The Grey Tower

Pushing the door open to her room, Dianlinn made her way inside and kicked it closed behind her. She was still getting used to having a door, as back n her hold she had a beaded curtain, as it kept the flies out, but let the cooler air flow through the hold. Not to mention that wood was scarce and precious in the Three-fold Land, and there were more important things that wood could be used for. Including the Clan Chief's chair. And that was only used on rare occasions, and always oiled and rubbed with wax to be kept in the best of conditions. Once the door was closed, she began to strip out of her clothes and began to have a wash with the water and soap in her basin. This was also something strange, and she longed for a good sweat tent, though she had to admit the baths were nice, and washing in water could be refreshing. But still, part of her felt weak at liking such things, but she had to, otherwise she may never be chosen to Bond and Protect an Aes Sedai or an Asha'man. And then what would her purpose be?

Once she was clean, she dressed back into her fresh uniform, and after picking her bow up from the rack on the wall, she made her way out of her room, once again remembering to close the door behind her. She had been for a run that morning, and with the weather becoming cooler, she was having to run further and faster to get a good sweat on. It left her muscles loose and ready for the day. With her unstrung horn bow, she made her way to the archery grounds as she was to be taught how to shoot that day. It made her smirk, that she needed to be taught, but the Mistress of Training claimed she needed to be evaluated. Most Aiel were taught to shoot, whether they went into one of the Societies or not. But she would go through the process, as it were.

Once at the ground, she noticed she was the first, and was not surprised. Most here seemed to find excuses to stop and flirt, like they were dogs in heat. It made her feel sick, and wonder how they did not all owe their teachers toh by now. She began to string her bow with lizard gut, it was what she had with her when she had arrived. It sat in a waxy cloth, and the gut itself was stretched and waxed too. She had her quiver on her hip, with arrows from this land, as her own were gone. She crouched by the fence as she waited to see who arrived next, tutor or student.

She had signed up for the archery class when she heard that it was available. She wasn't sure she was going to be any good at it, or even able to use the bow she had, it certainly hadn't been strung in a long time...mostly because she didn't know how to do it after someone had unstrung it for her to relax the gut. It was clutched tight to her chest, knuckles nearly white around the handle of the shortbow. Athilin stepped into the yards where the Archery lesson was to take place, and only saw one other person there. Although to be fair she was early.

Her white skirts swished as she stepped to the side, setting the bow on the fence so that it wouldn't get dirty or damaged. She knew it was sturdy, he had always taken care of his things, but still... there were very few of his things that she had been allowed to keep, and she wanted to preserve them as much as possible. Then she was strapping on a quiver belt that was much too big for her slighter frame, and the quiver, while caught on one hip, sat very low on her opposite leg. She lovingly pet one of the fletches, and then looked at the bow, sneaking a glance at the other student who was already here with their bow strung.

She didn't want to ask for help, but perhaps she needed it... She wasn't going to figure this out on her own. "Excuse me... But could you assist me please?" She asked, with that small polite smile on her face as she turned. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail to let herself not have to worry about the hair being in her face while she participated in this lesson.

Dianlinn watched as a Novice came over to the shooting area, an unstrung bow in her hands. She watched her, noticed the way her Novice dress gleamed in the sunlight, perfect and clean, and she had no idea how she managed to keep it so clean. Dianlinn was not used to having to keep anything clean, and it also seemed if you were a Drin with a clean uniform, one of the Training Officers would think they were shirking and have them do extra work. And it was usually pointless work too, so she seemed that some things were the same this side of the Spine of the World as the other.

When the girl spoke to her, Dianlinn paused only a moment, before she nodded her head. She stood, and ran a hand over her blonde hair, before she moved to the girl. "Do you have a string?" She asked, "It will be waxed gut. If you do not I have some that should fit your bow." She offered, their bows were about the same size, and she was sure she could make it work.

"I am Dianlinn, of the Jagged Spire Sept of the Taardad Aiel. May you find shade this day." She told her, wondering if she would understand the greeting, and not having any idea where the girl was from.

Athilin held out her waxed gut to the Aiel who stepped up to her. She was hesitant to let the woman string her bow just in case something went wrong and his bow was ruined... but she needed to get it strung before the lesson started. She held the bow out as well before she watched very carefully to what Dianlinn did. She turned her warm brown eyes to Dianlinn's face and put on her polite and small smile.

"I am Athilin Mansarn, daughter of Ralan and Ysmay Mansarn, from Ravinda in Kandor. May you find shade this day." Athilin replied but she didn't truly understand the greeting. But it sounded right, given the other woman's race. But this was a chance to learn and understand others, so perhaps she should ask instead of just regurgitating what was said to her. "Ah, please forgive me, but I can not say with confidence that I truly understand the greeting I just gave. Would you mind explaining it to me? And perhaps explain how to properly string the bow?" She folded her hands behind her back, discreetly holding her quiver belt in place so that it wouldn't fall.

Dianlinn accepted the gut from the girl who had asked for help, and she slipped her spare back into her belt pouch. She was pleased to see the girl was ready if nothing else, and she wondered if they were to be the only two. Would the others be as kind to the girl, she did not think so, from her own experience anyway. The Wetlanders were cruel and flapped their lips too much, their words were just wind after all. But this girl seemed willing to learn, and she smiled nicely. And she had no demanded.

When the girl introduced herself, and wished her shade, Dianlinn nodded her head as she took the bow from her. It was a nice bow, too ornate for her tastes, as her bow was horn and plain. The Aiel did not decorate their weapons as the Wetlanders seemed to do. They were tools after all, nothing more. "I see you, Athilin Mansarn." She told her, and then knelt, looking up as the woman asked if she could explained her greeting and how to set the bowstring. "In the Three-fold land, both Water and Shade are rare, and hard to find. If you wish someone to find them, then you wish them to survive a little longer, to find the things we need there to survive." She told the girl, unsure if she was explaining correctly. "I know there are plenty of both here in the Wetlands, but the meaning is still the same to me."

She motioned for Athilin to kneel with her. "Most gut has been waxed, so prevent moisture making it stretch, and you slip one end loop over here," she spoke as she did, the loop setting over one end of the bow, "and the other goes over the other end. But you have to bend the bow to get it set." Dianlinn leaned on it, pushing the bow down a little so she could slip the end of the gut over the top of the bow. "Just remember if it rains, then you should unstring your bow, if you are not expecting trouble," she told the other woman.

"Want to have a go?"

Athilin nodded as she was educated on how to properly string her bow and the meaning behind the greeting. It was always good to learn something new from another culture... at leas that's what her mother had always said. They hadn't had too many interactions with the Aiel, but that wasn't to say that since Athilin had been gone that they hadn't had some. "So it would be like wishing someone well until you meet again... That is rather poetic." She knelt next to the other woman, letting the end of her quiver rest on her skirts instead of the ground. She had never let his things get dirty. She had cared for them very well, sometimes better then her own things.

"I would very much like to. But are we allow to start without the Warder that's supposed to be teaching us?" She asked, gently running her thumb over one of the fletches on her arrows. She had made sure they were all strimmed evenly, and properly cared for. He would have wanted at least that much. "The bow is not mine... or well it is mine now, but it was given to me from an unfortunate happening of the man who this belonged to before. I am...unsure if I am able to draw it properly as I have not really used it much." She gently look the bow from Dianlinn with a soft smile. "But I hope that I can, and I am sure with your help it shall not be a problem."

"It does indeed mean something like that." She told the other girl, still surprised that someone had asked her about the greeting, and indeed the meaning behind it. She did not mind explaining the ways of the Aiel to those who asked, but it was those who assumed their ways and got them wrong that annoyed her greatly. It was those who ended up owing her toh, and she had to grind her teeth that they did not even seem to know it. She showed the woman how to string the bow, and asked her if she wanted to have a go herself, and the girl then asked if they should before the teacher got there. "We shall be ready for their arrival if we do." She said simply, seeing that as a bonus. She listened a little more as it was explained that the bow was hers, though it had not always been. "I will help you if you need it." She added, not thinking that she would.

It was then that their tutor arrived, a large Shinarian if his top-knot was anything to go by, and he carried a bow across his shoulders. “Are you all here?” Sarkaska asked, as the bell rang out overhead and swinging the staff down from over his shoulder, he held it out for the class’ inspecting eyes. “Believe it or not,” he said, one dark brow quirked over a dark-chocolate eye, “this is a bow.” Dianlinn raised an eyebrow at him, bit stayed silent.

“One does not store a bow strung, nor do you keep it strung longer than you have need in moist weather. Unless you want the string to rot, anyway. It takes only seconds to string a bow.” She felt like she wanted to say she knew that, but again she stayed silent. “Bows, they come in several varieties. This is a shortbow. There are also longbows, as tall as a man when unstrung, and near damn as tall strung,” - Sarkaska continued on – “and horsebows, better known as crossbows in several parts of the world. I’m not teaching horsebows because I don’t want you lot to shoot horses, and until you have a competence and a steady hand, I don’t know a damn fool in this organization who will. If that’s your goal, you’ve got a long road and I am the end of it.” Dianlinn wrinkled her nose at the thought of riding at all, and hoped that was not part of the lesson.

“Everyone’s string on? Line up and show me.” DIanlinn moved to stand before him, and held her bowat the leather wrapped grip for him to inspect. “So you understand the staff and the string. A bow has more parts, though: this wide section in the staff is called the guide, or the arrow guide. An arrow will lay here. This widening of the string is called the nock, and you will fit the slotted end of an arrow in it. Speaking of arrows,” he said, drawing from the quiver on his thigh, “here’s one. It’s a simple affair - tip, shaft, fletchings. Everyone take one, and practice fitting the arrow to the bow. Later,” he drawled, amused, “I suspect you might even get to fire one.”

Athilin smiled politely in thanks to the other woman, and she was about to open her mouth to continue her conversation to ask about her culture further when the teacher approached. He was familiar looking... but it was familiar in the sense that he was another Borderlander, just like she was. She listened with attentiveness, his manner of speaking familiar and she enjoyed the lesson as he spoke of all the different types of bows. With his information she was able to identify that her bow was a short bow. It was comforting to know.

But his mention of horsebow fighting was fascinating. She was actually considering it as an option, and she was going to apply herself heavily here. Horsebow sounded like an appropriate task to aim for. She knew about not storing the bow strung, because of the way the gut would be useless if you did, but she listened to him with attention anyway.

Athilin stood next to Dianlinn and held her bow up for inspection and approval. Once she got it, she pulled out one of the arrows from the quiver on her hip. She gazed for a moment at the fletcing, running her thumb over the edge of the feathers before running her thumb nail over the groove for the arrow. She rested the arrow on the guide before she carefully fitted the notch in place, the leading fletch facing the wrong way.

Once her bow was given the nod, as that was all the large Borderlander was doing to those he found acceptable, though he did seem to like to chew out those who had messed up. She watched as the large man then told them to get an arrow out of their quivers, and try to fit them to their bows.

“Right,” he called out. “Focus,” he bellowed, seeming to plant his feet and raising his voice. “We are going to discuss stance and pull, two essential lessons in archery. To begin with, the classical shooter’s stance,” he said, bringing his left foot forward, kneeling back on his bent right knee. “From the classical lunge, your frame is steady and your hands are, too. Steady hands are vital to archery.” Straightening, he continued. “There are other stances, but you will all first try the classic one. Spread out,” he directed, “no more than two to any one goal. Put a few hands between yourselves,” he said, separating pairs. “Good, good. Now, practice your stance. No,” he said, to one flabbergasted blonde, “I could care less what your skirts are going to look like. Tie ‘em up, just make sure you have your knees in that...mud...” he said, glancing down at the once-dry, soft earth.

It took a while, but soon everyone was doing it, including Dianlinn, but she was finding this dull. It was like being a child again, and learning how to walk. But she moved so that she shared a target with Athilin.

“Right,” Sarkaska Gaidin said, stalking up and down the row of kneeling pupils. “Now, we discuss pull and load your bows - remember, the arrow fits over the guide and onto the nock,” he said, pausing to right a few wrong impressions, “and then, the complicated bit. Bend your first and second fingers over and under the arrow nock - that slot in the back - and, holding the arrow between your knuckles, pull the string back. First, though,” he said, “make sure the bow is aimed at the target, or at least, pointed that way. Practice drawing several times, and when it feels as though it is something you could do in a single smooth motion, let go at the end of it. Fire your entire quiver of arrows. Do not go forward to retrieve them until you hear my whistle. That bit’s important,” he said.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sarkaska asked. ”Sunshine?”

Dianlin did as she was told, and once she was told to shoot, she did so, letting the arrow sail smoothly towards the target and hitting the inner ring, though not dead centre. She did not need to show off to this bunch of students.

Athilin was relieved when Dialinn moved to stand next to her, making sure that they would share the same target. Once she saw the pose, and heard what the instructions were, she put her bow over her shoulders and girded her skirt, before she knelt in the mud, disregarding her cleaniness for the sake of the lesson. Once again, she listened before she nocked her first arrow and practiced drawing the bow.

Her eyes tossed glanced at Dianlinn to see what the Drin was doing, but she was much more confidnet at the excercise then Athilin was. So she did her best, taking a couple minutes to draw and relax the bow until it felt natural. Then it was drawing the bow with an arrow nocked and then it was to do the full draw.

Inhale, nock arrow. Hold and aim. Exhale, and when devoid of breath, release. And it sailed through the air... piercing the mud in front of the target. She did the same thing again, and adjusted the elevation a bit, and then plunked the arrow into the bottom of the target. Then it was adjusting the elevation higher, and having her arrow sail over the target to hit the hay beyond. Every adjustment missed the target after that first success, and Athilin frowned, lowering her bow with a sigh. It wasn't as good as she had hoped for, but at least that first one had hit.