Zoissette watched the long line of archers as they lined up, took aim, and took their shots. Some of the shots found their mark; but not very many. Many more missed their mark, shots going wide. One of the trainees accidentally thwapped themselves with the bow string upon release, and fell to the ground in pain while their fellows gently chided them and helped them get back up to their feet.
Zoissette continued to watch quietly for a while as the trainees got themselves together and tried again.
“A good bowman is invaluable, however. The ability to attack at range provides essential support,” she said, looking down at her book and flipping through a few pages, looking up tactics that had been written for the bow for time immemorial.
“And I agree wholeheartedly! Critical to the defense of the realm. To say nothing of the fact that many of the finest of them go on to pick up an instrument as well, and provide critical moral support. But look again - bows are heirloom weapons. They are difficult to make in mass, and the very finest of them are passed down. And how many commoners do you see picking up such a difficult tool to use? Do not misunderstand. The bow has its use. It will never go away. I do not want it to! But I want to provide our fair nation with options.”
Zoissette looked up from her notes and watched as a third volley was loosed from the line of young recruits. The one who had injured themself earlier was more cautious now. Too cautious, in fact, and without correction, they would never be able to stand on the line in a real situation. They would be too slow, their aim too far behind the target they wanted.
“And so you’re asking me to try one of your firearms.”
“Of course. That’s all I’m asking. Someone as well known as you are becoming - I think it would mean a lot. And think of what it would mean for our nation! Firearms readily take to mass production. The aether manipulator a little less so, but I think we can handle a few of ours not having them while they get started. And I promise you - while it will absolutely reward mastery as much as a bow does, the starting requirements will be quite a bit less strident. Imagine if you will - if every person in Ishguard was able to provide for her defense! And what that would mean for the common person who lives here.”
Zoissette watched as the trainees started another volley. This times she was looking for specific faces among them, and found too many that she recognized. Nobles, or those who were directly sponsored by some noble house or another.
The roles of everyone in Ishgard were plain by stint of their birth. Nobles provided the military and reaped the honor. Commoners supplied the labor and logistics and reaped an all-too-often meagre living.
She had witnessed both sides of the equation.
And anyway, her own bow work was abysmal.
Also the devices promised to be, if nothing else, very interesting.
She turned to Stephanivian, and shrugged while smiling.
“Seems you won’t take no for an answer.”
Stephanivian clapped his hands together with a finger snap.
“You won’t regret this! Meet me at the Skysteel Manufactory!”
He walked off, a spring in his step. Zoissette crossed her arms and returned to watching the archers. Well, her ideas of being a bard had been dashed long ago.
If she could not pick up the bow, perhaps the firearm would do.
After lingering for a bit, she turned, and made her way to the manufactory.
