Public [Veridia] The Festival of Silk and Arrows: Archery Competition

[DM Player-Slayer]

// Anyone is welcome to join and roleplay. Please do not bring warships or private military squads. If needed, you may bring up to two NPC bodyguards. PVP is allowed as long as it stays small in scale and does not disrupt the festivities. Larger disturbances will be handled accordingly by NPCs I will write. This is a social event thread, so have fun.

The Festival of Silk and Arrows
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Location: Veridia: Jade Garden​

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On a small planet like Viridia, the Land of Flowers has no shortage of local events to mark the turning of the seasons, yet few draw a crowd quite like the Festival of Silk and Arrows.

Today the city streets are lined with food stalls, their awnings swaying in the breeze as savory scented steam curls up into the spring air. Skewers hiss over open heat, lacquered with glazes that cling to grilled chicken and river fish, sweet with soy catching the light before it drips into the coals below. Vendors ladle out hot bowls of ramen and udon rich with broth, topped with sliced scallion, soft egg, or tempura crisp and fresh from the oil.

There are octopus dumplings turned in their molds until golden and round, savory pancakes striped with sauce and a veil of bonito, rice balls wrapped in seaweed, and little bamboo trays of sushi as neat as ornaments.

Elsewhere, sweeter scents drift through the crowd: candied fruit gleaming beneath syrup shells, mochi soft beneath powdered sugar, taiyaki pressed in fish-shaped irons and filled with red bean or custard, dango brushed with glaze, sweet shaved ice in bright colors, and warm castella cakes cut into little squares for passing hands.

Beyond the food lanes, merchants display their finest wares beneath canopies of silk and paper lanterns. Some such wares are part of what the festival is famous for, boasting a wide variety of fine silks to choose from. Haori in soft spring shades hang beside darker, more formal pieces embroidered with cranes, plum blossoms, clouds, reeds, and curling streams worked in gold or silver thread. Kimono are folded and draped with care, some rich and ceremonial with long sleeves and layered collars, others lighter and easier in their wear, meant for strolling the festival grounds in grace and comfort. Yukata appear in brighter seasonal patterns, floral prints and flowing water motifs made for warmer weather, easy movement, and evening lanternlight. Hanfu-inspired garments bring another kind of elegance to the stalls: long, trailing sleeves, high-waisted skirts, gauzy outer robes, fine sashes, beadwork, and delicate fastenings that lend each piece a courtly air.

Handmade accessories and other artisanal crafts are also bountifully available. Hairpins, combs, kanzashi, ribbons, fans, perfume sachets, lacquered ornaments, carved jade trinkets, and painted masks fill the gaps between bolts of cloth, so that every stall seems to offer some smaller treasure waiting to be discovered as the perfect souvenir to take home.

Here and there, little games and minor tests of skill draw pockets of laughter from the younger crowd. Goldfish scooping remains a favorite, among children leaning over shallow basins with fragile paper scoops, trying to lift quick flashes of orange and white before the wet paper gives way. Ring toss stalls offer painted bottles, carved figurines, sweets, or charms for a steady hand. There are cork-gun galleries with tiny prizes arranged on shelves, shell-matching games, lucky draws, fan-toss challenges, and narrow target boards meant for beanbags or wooden darts.

Some of these booths test patience more than strength, while others reward a sharp eye, a delicate touch, or a bit of luck. Children dart between them with excitement, while older guests share in conversation with friends, sleeves gathered back as they try their hand and feign greater confidence than they possess.

Yet for all the delights spread through the streets, the main event that gathers the largest crowd is the archery competition. There, beneath banners and flowering boughs, skill is measured in poise, control, and the clean flight of an arrow.
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❀꧁༺༒❁༒⟡༼✿༽⟡༒❁༒༻꧂❀
Archery Tournament Instructions
​

Out of Character Instructions

• Each participant will fire three arrows in total.
• Before writing your IC post, please make your dice roll first. (Rolls must be done in this thread)
• Use 1d20 for each shot.
• Each arrow should be posted separately, with one post per shot.
• Please label each post clearly as Arrow One of Three, Arrow Two of Three, or Arrow Three of Three.
• Your post should include a short IC description of the shot being taken, along with the rolled result.
• After all three arrows have been fired, points from each shot will be added together for a final score.
• The highest total score wins.
• If there is a tie, tied contestants will roll one final 1d20 for a sudden-death shot.

Scoring Guide​

• 1–4 = Miss (0 points)
• 5–8 = Outer edge (1 point)
• 9–12 = Solid hit (2 points)
• 13–16 = Strong shot, near center (3 points)
• 17–19 = Excellent shot (4 points)
• 20 = Bullseye (5 points)

Example Post Header​

Arrow One of Three
Rolled: 15
Score: 3 points

❀꧁༺༒❁༒⟡༼✿༽⟡༒❁༒༻꧂❀​

 

[Ko Vuto]

Location: Verida, Jade Garden

Ko didn’t think he’s spent enough time here to be representing the produce that had been cultivated in and around the estate that his friend was constructing. He’d given a few pointers on what he would do to create a highly productive farm but beyond that hadn’t done much of the work himself.

As if now he was at the festival with a decent sized stand to showcase and sell their produce. But before he had the Kel Dor had wanted to be able to provide something eye-catching. Expertly cultivated fruits and veggies were great on their own but they didn’t quite have the pizzazz that he felt was needed.

So the day before Ko had sought to exploit his skills and talents with The Force. With the help of plant surge he’d grown a bunch of oddly polygonal watermelons. Using the ability to shape them mostly into cubes but also into some other symmetrical shapes as well. It just came with one drawback…

Ko yawned from behind his mask as he dutifully maintained his role to oversee the produce stand. He was tired, exhausted even. Using a bit too much of his own energy to make such spectacular watermelons. His posture didn’t maintain its usual straightness and his leathery skin seemed a bit dull. Visually contrasting with his wares.

“Hey Valor, would you be willing to find us some local teas? I’m sure there’s some good blends here for us to try.” He asked his apprentice. “I can keep an eye on the melons for now.”

Valor the Forsaken ​

​

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Tags:

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Valor had initially been rather against going anywhere that promised large swaths of people, and he had been quite stubborn about being convinced to come along. Still, he did as Ko had asked, even helping move the Keldor's strange produce so they could set up the stall together. He was not at all certain anyone would buy oddly shaped fruit, and throughout the whole process he kept casting Ko concerned glances, plainly doubtful of the venture.

He was growing restless standing by the Keldor's side with very little to do, and truth be told, now that he was here, there were certainly plenty of interesting things catching the youth's attention… things he would have liked to inspect more closely. Of course, he was too stubborn and too shy to say as much. Valor was a quiet lad, one who did not speak often and more usually chose to stare and watch others instead.

"Oh… uh, sure… I'll go find us something nice, Master," Valor chirped, before immediately scampering off toward the vendor stalls where food and drinks were being served. How hard could it be to find some teas?

He wandered through the area, looking over the various treats on offer, and Valor certainly found himself wanting more than a few of them. But no… he had to focus on his mission. And his mission was to find some teas.

At last, he found a stall offering several fragrant blends and managed to exchange some local currency for a large gourd of tea, along with two small cups fashioned from dried fruit rinds, cured and polished into minor works of art. With the floral-scented tea in hand, he carefully made his way back toward the fruit stall, though not without casting one long, forlorn glance toward a serving of sweet sticky rice that smelled amazing. For a moment, he silently lamented that he did not quite have the funds to buy any for himself.

He should have been watching where he was going… but he was not, and for that he bumped into a much larger man with enough force to send himself stumbling back. He landed hard on his rear, dropping the gourd and spilling tea all over the street.

Turquoise eyes went wide as he immediately began sputtering apologies to whoever he had just crashed into, though his real panic was already turning toward the tea. He quickly gathered up the fallen gourd, but its contents had already spilled out, leaving a spreading mess across the road. He did not have enough to buy more… what was he supposed to do now?

He could hardly return to Ko Vuto carrying a ruined, empty gourd.

That would mean admitting failure over something that should have been such a simple, easy task.

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Valor the Forsaken , Ko Vuto

Kiba no Shimai​

Turquoise eyes went wide as he immediately began sputtering apologies to whoever he had just crashed into, though his real panic was already turning toward the tea. He quickly gathered up the fallen gourd, but its contents had already spilled out, leaving a spreading mess across the road.

"Ah, what the-"

Roten sputtered as somebody ran into him. He had come to this festival to try and take his mind off of that blasted slaver planet, but this festival wasn't doing it for him. Too crouded, to lively. Or maybe he was just too afraid to dive in and join all of that. Have fun. Whatever the case was, he wasn't having fun now. He turned to see a familiar face, sputtering apologies on the floor in a way that was unbefitting of their last encounter. The Bursantian let out a sigh.

Boy, what a sorry sight. Now he felt a little bad that he zapped the guy earlier. A little. He had still deserved it.

"Ah, quit your apologizing. Yappin won't fix it," Roten scolded Valor with a huff. "S'posed to be aware of your environment. A warrior caught unawares is a bastard that's as good as dead and gone..."

His tone was still a bit irritable, given their last encounter, but it softened when he noticed the dispare set in as the padawan looked over his lost tea. The furred young man let out a sigh and crouched down, assessing the fluid. Smelled like tea, something herbal.

"Alright..." he muttered, letting out a sigh. "Tell me where you got this from. I'll replace it. Consider it an apology for biting you last we met. I don't like collecting grudges... I'd rather we part today on better terms. I helped break it anyways."

And it gave him an excuse to spend money at this festival. He had still been sitting and saving the allowance that Matthew of Valendale had given him. Least he could do was decreas his potential enemies at the temple.

Or at least that was the excuse he spun up to ignore how soft he had gotten.

 

[Kivah]

Arrow One of Three
Rolled: 14
Score: Strong shot, near center (3 points)

It was a beautiful evening, fresh air scented with the festival food, sugary treats and cooking meat, the breeze carrying the entwining smells across the noise of the crowds and through the streets of this town woven through with nature. Despite the presence of a Jedi temple, she found the planet and its people as a whole rather pleasant in a way that reminded her of Ran Dom Kuun. Her tail flicked at the thought, but otherwise stayed loose, so she put such musings behind her. Home had been a long time in her ion trial. Here, she was a spacer, and dressed like one even among the traditional robes and yukata rental booths of the fair. A brown jacket over a tight black shirt tucked into a pair of high-waisted trousers, each leg with a dirty yellow stripe running down the seam to show she was a captain.

Discovering the archery contest was an open affair, she'd signed up with little hesitation, even returning to the little shuttle she lived out of to retrieve her beloved bow. The Miraraya was large, shaped to fit her strength and frame perfectly, a weapon she'd made to replace the hunting bow her father had taught her with stalking the jungles of Cathar before its breaking during her trials. That had been to put food on the table and sometimes act as wildlife management, keeping down dangerous predators or booming prey populations. This new one was a darker, uglier, thing made from alloys and plastids and meant to hunt down other beings with.

Stepping up to the line, Kivah drew one of her practice arrows and thumbed it onto the string while she felt the festival air move through the fur of her ears. She checked her stance and squared her shoulders, drew back on the string, relaxed, and drew again. Pulling the draw back to her cheekbone before letting the string slide free from her fingers as she completed the motion. Kivah watched the arrow loose from the bow, bending and flexing around the riser as it took flight. Half a breath later, and she lowered her arms and turned towards her next arrow. Her first stuck from the target not far from the central ring. It was a good warm up shot, but Kivah knew she could do better, expected herself to do better, even without drawing on the Force to improve her aim or guide her shots onto target.

 

[Iria]

Veridia
Tags: Kivah

Arrow 1 of 3
Roll: 17
Score: 4


Iria had been on Veridia for some time now, a blade with no allegiance but wherever she found food and a roof over her head. They way of a ronin was one she may have once considered to be unbefitting of her upbringing. Noble, venerated status did not mesh well with the unkempt ways of the wilds. Yet, even so, her forced exile from Smarteel had brought about such a necessity long ago. To keep those of ill-will from inheriting her house and re-ingraining it in the criminal underworld she had to stay far from that life of luxury. And what was the role Veridia was to play? A challenge? A cruel twist of fate? She was marooned here with no way to depart, and yet she found purpose here. It could mold her into a stronger warrior.

The arrival of a festival was a nice distraction from her training, though. Her dedication to her craft usually left little room for respite, so it was a welcome change of pace. Yet, even here of all places she could not escape the urge to hone her craft. Archery, a local tournament open to all willing to take aim. After having her fill of the local delicacies, ramen in this instance, she signed herself up for the tournament and gathered up a bow and quiver. Three shots.

Plenty to learn with.

She would step to the line beside where a cathar woman had taken her first shot. Of course, Iria had no connection to the Force, so she could not feel the nature of the stranger or their use of it's call to enhance her abilities. All she had was her eyes and her draw. She readied up a shot and let it fly, striking near perfect center, just off of the bullseye. A gentle exhale of frustration left her lips...

Iria knew she could do better.

 

[Takeo Goemon]

Arrow 1 of 3
Roll:
Score:

Takeo wanted to watch the competitors, curious to see who would claim the title of champion, yet he found himself drifting toward the practice grounds. Small and slight for his age, he looked almost swallowed by the bow in his hands. Though he had once been born son and heir to a once proud samurai family, there was no honor left in that name now, only the shadow of disgrace and the blood-soaked memory of Demon's Hall Massacre , where his clan had been wiped away and left him the lone survivor.

He set his feet shoulder width apart as he had seen the others do and tried to draw. The string fought him at once, his young arms trembling with the effort as he struggled to steady the arrow. For a breath he held fast, jaw set with quiet stubborn pride, then loosed… only for the arrow to sail past the target in a useless hiss. Takeo lowered the bow without complaint, small fingers still tight around the grip, as if refusing to let even this failure pry it from his hands.

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Tags: Roten Ko Vuto ​

Roten was the last person Valor could have possibly wanted to run into, even in a less literal sense. He watched with growing concern as he took in the damage from the spilled tea. The small Echani didn’t know what to make of the tall Bursantian, either… His offer to help seemed far too good to be true.

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Valor the Forsaken

Kiba no Shimai​

"...Yo. Hey. Hello?" Roten responded to the silence, "You're ears not work or something? Or you take that dumb Jedi vow of silence and ain't allowed to talk?"

Roten let out an exhale, his fur bristling a little. He wasn't fond of being ignored. Just keep it cool, be nice. Good vibes.

"Talking exclusively through charades?"

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Tags: Roten

​

"I can hear you just fine," Valor started, though the initial desire to spew venom stalled when he recalled, quite clearly, how much Ko Vuto disliked such antics.

"I don't understand your desire to be useful to me…" Valor stated. He certainly had an odd choice of words, though that would be expected by anyone who understood his secluded upbringing. It showed how little he seemed to grasp why or how people wanted to be helpful… yet it also hinted that he saw value in being useful. But to what degree would the strange purple Padawan find his favor worth pursuing?

Valor didn't think to debate it further, looking flustered and upset despite the offer of help.

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Valor the Forsaken

Kiba no Shimai​

"I don't understand your desire to be useful to me…"

"That's it, huh?" Roten muttered. "Look, get your nose out of your tunnel for like, five seconds, yeah? If you don't stop thinking through things in that lense your just gonna wind up back where you started. Why does something someone does have to be useful? It's a callous way to view other people, boiling them down to momentary value and all."

Roten sighed, offering a shrug.

"Besides, sometimes chit don't need to be done for a useful reason," he added. "Gods-forbid someone just feels in a good mood and doesn't want to be a raging ass-hole."

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Tags: Roten ​

Valor stared at him through the lecture, irritation settling plain across his face as the other boy went on about loosening up and learning to accept kindness without suspicion.

"Wow… tell me how you really feel, huh?" Valor muttered in a mildly sarcastic manner, brushing dirt from the gourd's spout with careful fingers. He let out a quiet sigh, looking more worn down by the purple Padawan's endless chatter than soothed by it. "Maybe I don't want your help?" The question came sharp, edged with the kind of look that asked, have you even considered that?

He was proud, and shy in ways that often came out sideways, but he wasn't blind. Accepting the help would have been the easiest answer to his current predicament. That alone made him resist it. Valor wanted to handle this on his own. He wanted to prove, if only to himself, that he could manage one small task without fumbling it into disaster. If he accepted help now… didn't that cheapen whatever worth he had?

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Valor the Forsaken

Kiba no Shimai​

"Maybe I don't want your help?"

"Than say no," Roten told him, rather bluntly at that.

He didn't mind that he was telling Valor exactly how he felt. Roten had no ffiltr, even though this was definitely him being nice. He offered another shrug.

"Look, dude, I get it. You got pride and chit or whatever. I ain't gonna step on your toes," he stated. "But when I tried to take the high road last I got burnt. All it did was make a fool of me. So, I dunno, maybe you could give it a try. Even if you don't want my help."

Maybe that wasn't super convincing. Roten definitely was new to this sort of talk. Worth a shot at least.

If only to say that he tried.

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Tags: Roten

​

"I don't want your money. I didn't earn it. You're right, as much as it pains me to say so plainly… I should have been paying attention.... the fault is my own." Valor's fingers curled more firmly around the gourd, thumb dragging once along its neck as though he could smooth the whole mess away with that alone. He hated the taste of the admission even more than the truth of it. The words had came stiffly, as though each one had to be dragged loose. Valor looked down at the gourd in his hands rather than at him, shoulders drawn tight with embarrassment he would sooner bite back than name.

"That said, I don't trust you to help me out of the goodness of your heart." His pale eyes narrowed, not quite meeting the other Padawan's for long before slipping aside again. Suspicion came easier than gratitude; suspicion was safer. "Pride isn't a wound that heals so easily."
There was no heat in his tone now, only wariness. For someone like Valor, usefulness was proof that he had any value at all. To accept help so freely felt too close to admitting the opposite.

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Valor the Forsaken

Kiba no Shimai​

"Pride isn't a wound that heals so easily."

"Better then being dead," Roten huffed as he stood back up. "But alright. You don't trust my help, fine. Figure it out on your own. Sell something and fix it yourself... but I'm gonna make myself clear-"

Roten's eyes squinted as he looked Valor dead in the eyes. Not that it would be easy to tell, lacking pupils of any kind, but the intensity was there.

"Cut any corners and we ain't chill," he stated bluntly. "I'm tryin' to take my responsibilities to the public seriously. Steal even a single credit and I'll hang you from a light post in your skivvies. You got that, pal?"

He wasn't about to let his padawan learner peers stoop to any lows.

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

Tags: Roten Ko Vuto

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A snowy white brow lifted.

“How noble,” he murmured. “From replacing tea to policing the poor in a single breath. You do move quickly.”
He adjusted his grip on the gourd, chin tilting just enough to make the gesture feel like defiance, or judgment.

“Keep your credits, your lectures, and your fleas to yourself.” He huffed turning away and padding off from the purple padawan... Stealing some tea would be pretty easy.... He thought considering the task.... it wouldn't be missed would it? It shouldn't be missed if he swiped some tea from the vendor he reasoned. He looked ta the gourd in his hands and frowned as his brows furrowed.

The truth of it sat ugly in his chest: he had failed in his task.

Once, he had known exactly what failure meant. The memory of it clung like an old bruise. But Ko Vuto was not Ace… nor the thing that wore Lady Kyoteru Seraphine's body as it's vessel.

That difference made this worse somehow.

In the end, Valor turned back and made his way toward the Kel Dor. By the time he reached him, he looked thoroughly flustered, shoulders tight, gaze skittering anywhere but the dark sheen of Ko's mask.

"I… um…" he started in a small, strained squeak. "I dropped the tea." he squeaked.

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Kiba no Shimai​

Roten only scoffed an let him walk off. For one quick to weaponize poverty he sure dressed nice. And, of course, he had no concern for the financial woes of who Roten was looking out for. But he let it go. He probably hadn't helped much in that situation. His gaze remained fixed on Valor as he dipped out of sight before he found himself a bench and sat down with a heavy exhale.

"Message recieved," he muttered to himself. "Don't become a motivational speaker..."

All he could really think back on now was how much he had totally sucked in that interaction. How do you even earn someone's trust who doesn't want to trust others?

Probably not be a loser.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

Roten
Matthew suppressed the chuckle that threatened to rise, having watched the small mishap unfold between the two.

“Is that the one you and Jackie had a scuffle with?” Matthew asked, curious; he wasn’t familiar with this particular Echani.

 

[Roten]

Veridia
Tags: Matthew of Valendale

Kiba no Shimai​

"Yeah," Roten huffed.

The padawan smoothed out the bristled tufts of fur on his shoulders, trying to compose himself.

"I'm trying to understand the guy, really, but it just seems like he can't stop feeling sorry for himself or something," he admitted. "Probably doesn't help I just... say what I think. I think that rubs people the wrong way. He already has a chip on his shoulder..."

Roten let out a sigh.

"Maybe at least he went back to whoever he was getting that tea for and told the truth. That would be something, I guess."

Not that it would feel like a success on his end.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

Roten


Matthew watched the smaller figure disappear, then turned his attention back to Roten.

“Ah… perhaps…” he trailed off, considering it a moment. “What exactly is your goal with that one? Also… forgive me, do you know his name?” Matthew asked, curiosity settling plainly into his tone.

Perhaps he might offer Roten some perspective, if he understood what sort of effect the young man was trying to have. Better to ask plainly than build an opinion atop assumption.