"Begin training exercise in three... two... one... start timer."
Rina laid prone on the floor of the somewhat abandoned target range located in a more obscure corner of Suna's training facility. The young teenager's desert patterned military-style uniform picked up small specks of loose dirt from the ground. In her hands was a large repeater-type weapon with a long range optic scope mounted on top; the weapon was designed with the role of a combat sniper in mind, it was a weapon Rina was familiar with, a weapon that she had trained with since early in the academy.
And a few hundred feet downrange from her were ten training dummies, simple mannequins designed to provide a semi-realistic target for a shinobi to practice their skills on. Ten dummies that were about to take a lot of damage.
Rina pressed the button for a small timer sitting next to her and started to take aim at the dummies. She was quick; a little over a second after triggering the timer Rina had fired her first shot and hit her first target. As she used her off-hand to operate the mechanism which re-drew the bowstring of the repeater and fed a new bolt into the firing barrel, she moved her focus onto the next target. The quick, methodical process repeated with the level of precision gained from thousands of repetitions. Target after target fell to the merciless bombardment of crossbow bolts, until all ten dummies had been struck with an arrow to the knee, thus ending all of their adventuring careers! face. Rina quickly hit the button to stop the timer and end the exercise.
Rina moved her face away from the repeater scope and took a moment to survey the damage she had caused; if this had been a real combat situation, an ambush, ten men would have most likely been killed before they could even comprehend what was happening to then (at least, that was the hopeful outcome... being discovered was a bit of a nuisance for a sniper). Satisfied with her marksmanship, Rina looked over to the timer. 'Fifteen-point-seven-seven seconds. An improvement. Good enough.' she thought as she looked back out to the punctured dummies out in the field.
WC: 358
Rina laid prone on the floor of the somewhat abandoned target range located in a more obscure corner of Suna's training facility. The young teenager's desert patterned military-style uniform picked up small specks of loose dirt from the ground. In her hands was a large repeater-type weapon with a long range optic scope mounted on top; the weapon was designed with the role of a combat sniper in mind, it was a weapon Rina was familiar with, a weapon that she had trained with since early in the academy.
And a few hundred feet downrange from her were ten training dummies, simple mannequins designed to provide a semi-realistic target for a shinobi to practice their skills on. Ten dummies that were about to take a lot of damage.
Rina pressed the button for a small timer sitting next to her and started to take aim at the dummies. She was quick; a little over a second after triggering the timer Rina had fired her first shot and hit her first target. As she used her off-hand to operate the mechanism which re-drew the bowstring of the repeater and fed a new bolt into the firing barrel, she moved her focus onto the next target. The quick, methodical process repeated with the level of precision gained from thousands of repetitions. Target after target fell to the merciless bombardment of crossbow bolts, until all ten dummies had been struck with an arrow to the knee, thus ending all of their adventuring careers! face. Rina quickly hit the button to stop the timer and end the exercise.
Rina moved her face away from the repeater scope and took a moment to survey the damage she had caused; if this had been a real combat situation, an ambush, ten men would have most likely been killed before they could even comprehend what was happening to then (at least, that was the hopeful outcome... being discovered was a bit of a nuisance for a sniper). Satisfied with her marksmanship, Rina looked over to the timer. 'Fifteen-point-seven-seven seconds. An improvement. Good enough.' she thought as she looked back out to the punctured dummies out in the field.
WC: 358