[center] [h1]Down Range[/h1] [img]https://i.imgur.com/iFF3wjv.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/MWVvCWo.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/mWuoSub.png[/img] [img]https://i.imgur.com/Lc7fYW7.png[/img] [h2][color=E3891A]Regies[/color] | [color=8dc73f]Rose-Marie[/color] [color=skyblue]Gabe[/color] | [color=9dca9c]Arden[/color] [/h2] [color=silver]𝓝𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓶𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝟖𝓽𝓱, 𝟏𝟑𝟐𝟕 / / 𝓐𝓾𝓼𝓯𝓮𝓵𝓭 / / 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷'𝓼 𝓔𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓽𝓮 / / 𝓜𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰[/color] [sub]Collab with [@Diggerton] [@GreenGoat] [@January] [@RedDusk][/sub][/center] Rose-Marie had no problems with waking up early. What she did have a problem with was the treatment they were getting. This certainly wasn't something she was expecting when they spoke about training. In fact, this seemed to be normal drills one would do to train their troops; nothing wrong with that, but it seemed highly unsuitable for training people such as her. Each of them had their own abilities to hone. If they needed troops, then by her father's sword she could and would take a hundred men and train them to be real soldiers. But this sort of training certainly was unsuited for their needs in her opinion. But in any case, at least Regis could be trained to shoot a musket. She knew he had never truly had need to train in fighting, considering that wasn't his job and certainly nothing he was expected to do at a regular basis, but at the very least, not fumbling when trying to fill the pan with gunpowder would be an improvement. [color=8dc73f]"Hmm, perhaps this training is for the benefit of the others"[/color] She sighed, as she looked towards Regis. [color=8dc73f]"Perhaps it would do you some good to learn as well."[/color] Regies grimaced, [color=E3891A]“Oh. Oh geez.”[/color] he said abruptly, clearly not very happy at the suggestion, but he let out a quick cough, [color=E3891A]“I mean, uh, if you see fit m’lady. I can… put… an effort into that.”[/color] indeed, he had never been much of a fighter. In that aspect his aspirations outshone his ambition, [color=E3891A]“I… uh… suppose that learning such a skill might come in useful, if we’re going to keep up with this whole bond business."[/color] [color=E3891A]“Although…”[/color] Regies had certainly tried shooting in the past to little avail, a fact that he had no doubt Rose-Marie was well aware of. [color=E3891A]“Well, I hope this goes better than last time.”[/color] he said, directing a nervous smile at her. Meanwhile, Gabe kept a respectful distance from the well-dressed lady and her servant, glancing curiously at the muskets they were going to practice shooting. He had seen them before; many noblemen prefered them over simple bows and arrows in their hunting trips. But he had never touched them or even seen one up close. They had always been too expensive for people from his social class. [color=fff200]"Welcome to the shooting range,"[/color] Dinn Lemare announced as he approached the group he was assigned to train. The man had shed much of yesterday's formal attire, dressed down instead for the occasion in simpler trousers, a belt with various cases and compartments, and a fitted tunic. Much of his clothes, however, remained subtly embroidered with the fine stitching of class and wealth, a reminder that he was still their superior. [color=fff200]"It may look shabby compared to the rest of the place, but that's because we anticipate a lot of accidents. We won't be wasting the more refined locations until you lot have a better grasp of your powers."[/color] One of his Hounds carefully handed the man a long, sleek rifle polished to a shine along its gleaming, steel barrel and black wood stock. [color=fff200]"Some of you may have seen these before, but this is a gun. Specifically, a rifle. These longer types are for ranged attacks but regardless of their category they are all dangerous. If you've handled a crossbow before, you'll know what a trigger is. If you haven't, this is the trigger."[/color] He grasped the barrel and the stock of the gun, holding it up horizontally so the small lever was visible. After a moment of panning the view back and forth, Lemare flipped the gun upright so the stock rested against the ground. [color=fff200]"Now, before you can even attempt to fire this, you need to master the art of loading it. It's a task in its own right. Pay attention."[/color] Slowly, but with a practiced ease, he pulled a tightly rolled wax paper packet from one of the pouches on his belt, the thin cylinder filled with the main powder charged. Deft motions untwisted one end of the cylinder and poured the black powder down the gun's muzzle. Another tight packet revealed a small sphere of iron which he eased deep into the gun with a long, thin rod from the same Hound who had brought the gun. Once that was complete, he hefted the gun into a more natural position, cocking back the hammer and opening a small chamber on top, near the rifle's stock. Pointing to a piece of flint attached to the hammer, he stated the obvious. [color=fff200]"This is a piece of flint. It strike this frizzen here--"[/color] he tapped a small piece of steel directly ahead of the flint [color=fff200]"--which lights up the powder that I'm about to pour in the pan here--"[/color] the same finger pointed at the small opening right below the frizzen [color=fff200]"--and you'll hear a crack of unholy thunder before your target keels over dead. Assuming your aim is true."[/color] He pulled out one more packet of powder, tipping the opening into the pan before closing the small lid and wrapping a tiny cloth strip around the frizzen. [color=fff200]"No one's firing anything today, and I don't need any accidental discharges so before you even test the weight of your rifle I'll need you all to grab those torn cloth pieces from the bin near the guns and wrap it around here,"[/color] he instructed, pointing to the frizzen again. [color=fff200]"When you pull the trigger, this little flint piece strikes the steel bit here and sets off a spark. That spark turns into hellfire and thunder and you're not ready for that until I see you loading and cleaning like the lightning itself. So get to it. I'm here for any questions, but the final rule for today is to keep your finger off that trigger until you're ready to kill something. Or someone. If we make decent headway, you can practice holding it properly, like this."[/color] He knelt and rested the stock against his shoulder, face tight against it, and pointed the gun forward, one hand gripping the stock and the other stabilizing with a firm hold on the bottom of the barrel, where the wood casing had been made to accommodate. [color=fff200]"Practice shifting from a full load to this position. You'll need to do it as quickly as possible in combat. And remember: fingers off the trigger. Now pick a gun, wrap the cloth around the steel bit, and get to it."[/color] Basic instruction done, he relaxed his stance and stood back up, turning now to the trainees to watch their attempts. Marie would have answered Regis, had it not been for their intructor arriving just then. His teaching methods were interesting, but she had no doubt she could do better. In fact, she was confident she would be able to teach even a bunch of peasants how to shoot in a formation in just a matter of hours. It was the maneuverings and drills to instill dicipline that took longer. [color=8dc73f]"Well, Regis, didn't you hear him? Go on and use the gun."[/color] She didn't bother picking up one, considering it more for the benefit of her untrained companion, and those peasants there rather than anyone like her. What noble did not know how to use a gun? Once more she was convinced that these people were fools. Loading the rifle was in itself already a dangerous move. A piece of cloth over the pan? Why even bother with that and just remove the flint or leave it at half cock? In fact, why bother with any of that at all, and simply allow them to shoot under guidance? And she had certainly heard of paper cartridges for ease of use in the field, but she had never seen one that separated both the powder and the ball in different paper packets. Perhaps it was their way of doing such a thing. Marie was feeling rather smug by now, thinking of Roche's superiority in that field. [color=E3891A]"Right. Yes. Use the gun, will do."[/color] he went over and glanced at one of the rifles. He grabbed one of the cloth strips as instructed, wrapping it around the... frizzy? He shook his head, grabbing the weapon and holding it awkwardly, clearly highly unaccustomed to handling it and perhaps a little afraid of it. He gave a glance back to Rose-Marie, [color=E3891A]“Well, this sure is a gun.”[/color] he wryly commented. He stared at it for a moment, reciting the steps in his head. Powder, ball, rod… couldn’t be too hard, could it? Or was it ball, powder, rod? No, no, the powder must've gone in first. He nodded to himself, doing his best to replicate Lemare’s loading. Meanwhile, Gabe just stared on. The instructions were simple and the demonstration was clear and concise. He knew what to do. He understood. But still, Gabe edged around others, keeping his distance. Rifles were loud. Why rifles? Why not bows? He had seen soldiers using bows before. He glanced at Lemare, wondering if it was a clever thing to ask him. Probably not. So he complied, grabbing a rifle and fiddling with it. Loading the weapon wasn't too hard, and he managed after a few moments. [i]Incompetent buffoons[/i], came her thought as Rose-Marie sighed. She had no problem letting the peasants founder, but her servant being incompetent reflected badly upon her. Perhaps another demonstration would allow them to finally figure it out. [color=8dc73f]"Regis. Watch."[/color] She picked up a rifle of her own, making sure it was unloaded. Signalling to the others to come close, Marie continued, [color=8dc73f]"You, peasants, come here. I'll only be so gracious so as to demonstrate this once."[/color] First she uncovered the pan at the bottom of the rifle after making sure the hammer was half cocked. Anyone even half knowledgable about guns would notice putting the hammer in that position would make the gun unable to fire. It was where the phrase 'going off half cocked' came from after all. [color=8dc73f]"Put some powder in the pan, inside here. Not too much, just enough to ignite the charge."[/color] Closing the frizzen over the pan, she poured a measure of powder inside the muzzle, and put a ball in. WIth one smooth movement, she took out the ramming rod from the rifle and rammed it down the muzzle. [color=8dc73f]"Now, Regis. Are you still listening? Pour some powder into the muzzle, then ram the ball in. Make sure the ball is flush against the powder charge in the bottom, or your rifle will explode instead of sending a ball downrange."[/color] With the rifle fully armed, she aimed down the barrel downrange, though she kept her fingers off the trigger. Once more came the overwhelming feeling she could be doing something much more productive with her time, as Marie sighed again. Regies watch attentively. There was this little game he liked to play where he tried to guess what Rose-Marie was thinking when she gave one of her lectures. Right now, probably something along the lines of… incompetent cretins? Regies is staggeringly incompetent and it’s embarrassing? Of course, he wasn’t bitter. He found his incompetence quite endearing. He nodded along as Rose-Marie spoke, giving the occasional chime of, [color=E3891A]”Yes, m’lady.”[/color] and a, [color=E3891A]”Still listening, m’lady.”[/color] and finally a, [color=E3891A]”I would certainly hope that the rifle doesn’t explode, m’lady.”[/color] all delivered entirely straight laced. He repeated the steps to himself again. Powder in the pan, but not too much. Powder in the muzzle, ram the ball in. Make sure it’s flush or you’re going to have a really bad day. To his credit, he was a lot better at remembering with Rose-Marie barking at him. [color=E3891A]”Thank you for the demonstration, m’lady.”[/color] he said with a wry smile, doing his best to replicate the process with his own rifle. He was a little slow, but he got the steps right – certainly he could speed up with a little more practice. Arden, meanwhile, picked up a similar rifle carefully and following the instructions, trying to remember his teenage lessons from days he had long left behind. He tested the noticeable weight of it in his hands and remembered faintly the feeling of a heavy kick and the ringing in his ears afterwards. He had never really liked the new weapons, but he couldn't deny their efficacy. Targets often dropped instantly, a hole pierced clean through their bodies. It took him several attempts to remember the rusty skills of loading and moving into position, but it came back quicker than expected, his mind beginning now to dredge up relevant information. [color=9dca9c][i]Are you worried?[/i][/color] he asked through their bond, the convenience of its use a blessing in these moments. Gabe didn't reply at first, far too occupied with their new weapons. But after a few moments, a response came through. [color=skyblue][i]Yes.[/i][/color] [color=9dca9c][i]It's very loud--the gun.[/i][/color] [color=skyblue][i]I know.[/i][/color] [color=9dca9c][i]They called it the new era of warfare. These things. They kill very quickly.[/i][/color] [color=skyblue][i]But loudly.[/i][/color] A flash of annoyance passed through their bond. [color=skyblue][i]Everything will run away after one shot.[/i][/color] [color=9dca9c][i]They were made to kill people better, even if the nobles use them more for sport and game. On the battlefield, it doesn't matter how far you run. The distances it can hit are...tremendous.[/i][/color] [color=skyblue][i]I'm not using it.[/i][/color] [color=9dca9c][i]You'll die out there if you don't master this.[/i][/color] A murky feeling filtered through their bond, but Arden quieted it before Gabe could identify. Still, the contents of the message was enough indication of what it was. Gabe looked up at Arden then, head slightly tilted. [color=skyblue][i]They aren't sending us to war, are they? Aren't we...important?[/i][/color] [color=9dca9c][i]They're training us for war, Gabe. And I would do anything to keep you alive.[/i][/color] Gabe just looked stunned for a few moments, before shaking his head and turning back to the rifle.