Competition: Knife Throwing [2038 Seahold Summer Gather]

Even with the move to the South, Gathers are still a thing to look forward to, though in the Walled Hold they appear to be called Festivals instead. Either way, Gathers and Festivals are a time of fun to enjoy when they come around.
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Sat Jul 18, 2015 2:16 am

Knife Throwing
Sign up until 10:30
Competition Begins 11:00
Wish to step up to the challenge of testing your throwing skills at targets? Here is the competition for you then! Throw three knives at the target to weigh your skills against opponents. There will be 3 rounds and each round will be harder than the next. If any competitor misses hitting the target, they are disqualified from moving on to the next round. The winner will be the one to wrack up the most points with their allotted knives. If a tie should happen, the two competitors will shoot again and again, until one shoots the best shot.

The rules:
  • Knives provided must be used
  • You must stand at the marker and cannot move off of it
  • Only three throws, no more
  • Cheaters will be disqualified

The prizes:
  • 1st place: 100 marks
  • 2nd place: 60 marks
  • Participation: 10 marks

OC Note: Please sign up via role play. Please be sure to list any talents and abilities your character may have that pertain to weapon throwing. These will be taken into account. The participants will be randomized and whoever is last will be dropped from the competition. The last round will be done a little differently. Whoever makes it to the last round will have a d20 rolled to see who receives the highest number. They will be the Grand Champion. Again, any abilities will be taken into consideration.

Sat Jul 18, 2015 3:10 am

The past few months had been a blur for Drekar. To think, he was a dual handler now... raising Dresk had certainly been a different experience from Drekask. The little agate was a lot smarter than his blue counterpart, for example, and was speaking to Drekar in much more coherent sentences even though he was much smaller. There was also a surprisingly warmth between them - Drekar had not wanted to be a handler when he bonded his blue, and their relationship had gone off to a rocky start as a result. There was also the most obvious of all - Dresk wasn't blind. Having a wher that could see was a huge difference.

Still, he had enjoyed these months. Drekar loved Dresk, and he could tell Drekask did as well. For all his fears that there might be animosity between the two whers - and there was a little at first - Drekar could really see that the two considered one another family as well. It was heartening.

Drekask was watching Dresk now as well as some of the other wherlings, letting the smith handler attend the gather. In previous gathers he would have taken the ble with him, but Dresk was too little to come along and join in the fun, and the Agate would have been upset that his two bondmates were going without him. So Drekar was alone today, wandering through the booths and glancing around with keen interest.

It was only natural that he be drawn to the knife throwing competition. Drekar gave a pleased hum as he moved to sign up, excited despite himself. Knife throwing was something of a favorite of his, and while he spent more of his days making knives than throwing them, the chance of a competition would be delightful.
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Sat Jul 18, 2015 5:01 am

While her house arrest had ended with her graduation from weyrlinghood, it was not as if things had suddenly gotten better. Mansa knew she was still being watched and judged. She still had to answer to Adonis and the Justicar had shown their willingness to use her as they wished when they had sent her tracking down the kidnapped Carrot back when she had first gone missing.

Some days, though, Mansa knew freedom as it was supposed to be.

The signs for the competitions caught the southerners attention as she ambled around the Festival. Or, well, Gather, technically, but what did it matter? They were nearly the same thing, though there was a noticeable lack of dragon-based competitions. Most of the competitions, Mansa ignored. After all, how was she supposed to compete with strong men throwing bags of sand? Why would she want to compete by throwing bags of sand? Some she would return to watch, but, for now, Mansa stopped at one table in particular, eyeing its signboard and the set up just behind it. Now this could be interesting. And she could make a fair amount of pocket change.

“You aren't really-” Mali, walking along her sister's side began to ask, but she sighed and looked away as Mansa put her name in for the competition. “Small blades are what I learned to fight with,” Mansa responded after the adjudicator went over the rules of the competition with her. “I didn't even know you had been learning how to fight,” Mali muttered and the competitive light in her sister's eyes immediately extinguished under the weight of her guilt. Mali cursed herself, but did not know how to fix it.

“Lunch will be my treat if I win,” Mansa spoke into the strained silence that still sometimes fell between the two, “but your treat if I don't.” Mali looked back at her sister at that and smiled in approval. It was all about compromise between them now, finding the middle ground between truth and the lies Mali had always been fed. Maybe, Mali thought to herself, if things went well, she could discover why her sister had been trying to hide the haunted look in her eyes for the past season.

Participant: Mansa (Weapons Student – Small Blades)
Audience: Mali (NPC, Open to tags)

Mon Jul 20, 2015 12:21 am

Tazkerov and Minkelina, Dragon Candidates

Tag: Drekar, Mansa, Mali

Tazkerov was roaming around the Gather, trying to summon up some excitement in the wake of his most recent failure to Impress. He’d paused at the weapons, but he already had new knives, and he didn’t need a new bow or any more arrows yet. He paused at the furflitts, but he already had little Sasha, whom Zoay had found and given to him almost two months ago. Indeed, the little Snow was curled up at the moment, hiding in the sling that he had taken to wearing across his chest to give her a place to rest. He didn’t want to go buying another furflitt that might not like her and try to drive her away, especially given that the little kit was on the shy side of things. Shrugging, he walked on, noting the egg sellers as possible places to come back to later, depending.

Eventually, he found himself near signs announcing various competitions. He noted the archery competition, decided to sign himself up for that later, if possible, especially since they were providing bows, so he wouldn’t have to try and hitch a ride to the Weyr and back to get his bow. Throwing bags of sand around… Tazkerov knew his strengths, and brute force, absolute raw power, had never been one of them. He had no intention of competing in a thing that he knew he was not going to do at least decent at. The next stand though…

Walking up to the stand, Tazkerov was found himself in the company of a couple women who looked native born southern, and the smith, Drekar, who’d fixed his knives. He nodded acknowledgement of their presence and slipped up to the booth to enter his name.

“Guess we’ll see how good I am,” Tazkerov commented to the smith, smiling slightly. Not but a moment later, Minkelina turned up as well, having found her own way to these stands.

“Here for the competition?” she asked everyone present, grinning briefly at her brother after she signed in.
Tazkerov: Weapons Master (knives/short blades as first weapon), experience
Minkelina: Lessa's Gaze (if that counts...), experience
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Sun Jul 26, 2015 4:29 am

Drekar = 15 points
Minkelina = 12 points
Mansa = 10 points
Tazkerov = 7 points

Sorry Tazkerov, you've been disqualified from the competition. The next round will occur in a few days. Players may roleplay out the results of their first round before the second round.

Wed Jul 29, 2015 4:04 am

Tag: Tazkerov

As the competition began, Drekar stepped over to the line, not bothering with socializing much with any of the arrivals. He did see Tazkerov though, holding the knives Drekar had forged for him, and the albino gave a small nod of greeting. "I hope they serve you well." he nodded to the small daggers, before lapsing back into silence. The conversation they had had in the forge had been a rarity, Drekar was not a social sort. He would respond vaguely to any further attempts at small talk after that, but not in great enthusiasm. No, now the man was clearing his mind, focusing his thoughts on the competition ahead.

As luck would have it, Drekar was the first to step up to the line. He paused a moment to inhale deeply before flicking the provided knife at the target with a casual toss at the target. It embedded itself near to the center, but not as close as he would have liked. Drekar gave a displeased frown as his score was read off, but stepped back nevertheless, glancing towards his opponents to see how they might do.

It came as quite a surprise that Drekar found himself on top for this round. He had to resist from giving a small pleased smile, but Drekask and Dresk made up for it by showering him in feelings of pride. Neither quite grasped the concept of what was going on, but they were pleased that their human was succeeding at the first round, at least. Now to see what the next would bring.
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Thu Jul 30, 2015 3:45 am

During the time of her house arrest, Mansa had been under strict regulations. Weapons were, of course, forbidden, so she had not touched them outside of the few self-defense lessons given in weyrlinghood. When her first knife landed off-mark, therefore, Mansa frowned in disappointment at the drop in her skills and started to toss another between her hands, becoming comfortable with the size and heft of it. Perhaps she should pick up practice once again in the sparring grounds. Surely she could find someone who used any other weapon that might be willing to work with her. She would stick to knives, of course. Her poisoned needles were a secret for her alone and risked far too many secrets being revealed. Those were not meant for battle in the first place.

The second knife landed much better and, as the first round continued, Mansa could feel her body becoming accustomed to the feel of the small blades once again.

By the end of the round, however, Mansa barely squeaked by elimination and as the targets were put in place for the second round she continued to toss the knives into the air and twirl them in her hands, a thoughtful frown on her face. Yes, she would definitely need to start practicing once again.

Sun Aug 09, 2015 10:53 am

Sorta tag Drekar

For whatever reason, Tazkerov could not clear his mind, could not focus, as the time for the start of the competition drew closer. He kept getting distracted by movements, the shifting and shuffling of the crowd as they eddied and swirled down the lane. In truth, he scarcely noticed Drekar’s reply, save to acknowledge it with a brief flash of a smile, before returning his mind to his attempts to focus. Attempts only, for it quickly became evident, as the knives started flying, that he hadn’t succeeded at all.

“Blast it all to sharded between,” Tazkerov muttered, staring at the target. Last place. Fourth, out of four people. Absolutely pathetic. What was wrong with him?! Hissing at himself, Tazkerov returned the provided knives and settled in to watch his sister.

“You might want to start practicing a little more, bro,” Mink teased, flashing a grin over her shoulder at her brother. She really couldn’t help it, it was so rare for her to do better than her brother in weapons skill that she felt flush with accomplishment merely from having done so.
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Thu Aug 13, 2015 3:01 am

(Apologies for the long pause between rounds, the competitions are continuing once more.)
Drekar = 13 Points
Mansa = 10 Points
Minkelina = 7 Points

Sorry Minkelina, you have been disqualified from the competition. The next round will be the final round deciding the 1st place winner. Good luck!
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Sat Aug 15, 2015 11:56 am

Tag: Drekar

The next round ended with the same number of points, though rather than a few good throws mixed in among the bad, Mansa's aim proved to settle around an average. If she could fine tune it from here, she could even stand a chance to win, though the man as white as snow had dominated the first two rounds. Mansa was simply lucky the young girl – younger than even Mali – had faltered this time around.

Speaking of her sister, Mansa turned to look at the young woman and sent her a comfortable smile, hoping it would loosen Mali's clenched fists and wash away the concern evident in her gaze and the way she bit at her lip.

Knowing the truth of her crimes had been passed around the Weyr, even if Mansa did not know if this man who now stood between her and victory was aware of it, the bluerider had little compulsion to hide behind a facade of innocence anymore. “I wonder if your aim would be as sure if it were a person and not a target before us,” Mansa bespoke the albino with a confident smirk as she attempted to shake him up before the final round.