"Likewise."

The proprietor wants to see their guns. Lenora has a slim semi-auto and a beefy steel revolver. He fusses over Thorn's 'custom piece' a bit but accepts it, charges them a few shillings each for range time and for paper targets, sells Lenora some ammo, then hands them two pairs of almost comically large earmuffs. Lenora's hair, in a plain ponytail, is not much inconvenienced by this.

There's just two other shooters at the moment, and the range officer calls a stop so they can set up targets.

"What ranges should we set the targets at?" She asks loud enough to get through the ear protection.

"Let's start at seventy-five yards and push it out. See who's the first to miss."

Lenora whistles. "Seventy five yards to start, with pistols? You are confident. Bet I'll lose."

She sets the targets up at a jog. Seventy five, and then one every 25 yards all the way out to 200. There are lines painted in the dirt to mark the ranges.

"Ten shots at each range? Flip a coin for first shooter? ...I'm going to use the model 1906 for this. That six-iron isn't great at target shooting."

"Ten shots at each range, and I'll go first if you don't mind." She taps her fingers on the butt of her pistol, impatient to start shooting but with range safety far too ingrained to do anything stupid. 

Lenora looks at the strange gun carefully, trying to figure out its features.

Presently the targets are set up and the range officer goes over gun safety rules with them briefly, then gives them the all-clear to start shooting.

It's a magazine-fed semiautomatic comparable to a Beretta M9. It has a "decorative" runic tracery along the side of the barrel, which allows it to be keyed in to Thorn's tattoos, "locking" her arm relative to the gun to make a steadier shootung platform, as well as drawing on the mana reserves in her tattoos when she's shooting enchanted ammo - but Thorn wants this to be a contest of direct skill, so she doesn't key herself in. She takes up shooting stance, pistol held firmly in both hands before her, and the gun barks quietly. 

Her first grouping on the seventy-five yard target is about a handspan across. 

Lenora gives a low whistle, peering at the distant target with a little hand-telescope from her pocket.

"Damn. That's tight."

Lenora takes a similar stance, and her grouping is much wider but none actually miss the man-size target. She also has to reload after seven shots, so her last three are as bad as her first three.

She sets up and shoots at the hundred-yard target. 

None of her shots miss, but it's a close thing. She reloads after her second set, using ammo she brought with her.

Several of Lenora's miss. "Tch. Should I have brought my Remington?"

"I've brought what I'm most comfortable and familiar with shooting; I think that's most important, having the muscle memory. In a tight spot, you want to be able to just... let me demonstrate."

She flicks on the safety, and puts her gun back in its holster. 

She draws, flicking off the safety in the same motion, draws a steady bead on the 125-yard target, and fires a shot. It takes her about three seconds, a smooth, unhurried and surprisingly fast motion. 

She hits. 

The rest of her grouping is ragged. She misses four times out of ten. 

"I do tend to shoot a lot of variety... But no, really, that is seriously impressive. I doubt there's ten shooters in the Reach who can hit most of the time at that range with a pistol!"

She really takes her time, steady breathing and focus. Three hits, one right on the edge of the target.

"You're no slouch yourself. There's few who can put up such a good showing compared to me."

She hits three on the hundred-fifty yard target. 

Lenora doesn't get any hits. She fires her last four shots in the second magazine, and gets one.

"I wonder how you'd do at cannonry."

"Probably terrible. Different set of skills. I'm very, very good with this one particular gun; if we swapped it would probably kill my accuracy." 

She manages one hit on the hundred and seventy-five yard target, really taking her time now.

"I'm not even going to try at that range. Should we move the rest of the targets closer and swap, then?"

"That sounds like a lovely idea." 

She passes Lenora her gun.

She conscientiously asks about loading and clearing the chamber and where the safety is just to be sure. She's a fair bit worse with this gun than her own - lots of little things are different. Still a pretty good shot, though.

And then she hands over her gun for the same treatment.

She is still a good shot, but it's far more comparable between the two of them. The small magazine size in particular seems to throw her a bit.

Lenora tells a couple sky-stories about Lustrum, a remote frozen mountain covered in prospectors, between rounds of shooting.

And then she offers Thorn the revolver, praising its stopping power but lamenting the accuracy.

She frowns. "Er, how does the safety work on this piece?" 

"Oh, sorry, it's weird. Here." She stands close and reaches for Thorns hands, guiding them. "Pull the safety switch down, then pull the slide back, then pull the safety up, then pull the trigger."

Click. She steps back.

"And now it's up but not all the way, so safe. The weird safety is the number one complaint about that gun. But it's amazing in a lot of ways, there had to be a compromise somewhere, I guess."

She flushes, a little.

"I can just see that last step leading to some accidental discharges." 

She takes the safety off again, points downrange, and starts shooting. She's clumsier again, definitely worse than Lenora with this gun. "I've barely ever shot a revolver before," she explains. 

Lenora has revolver-related advice!

Not too long after that, the range officer tells them they have ten minutes left.

"Lenora, after this could I invite you back to my room at the inn? There's something important I want to discuss in private." 

"Oh? Sure, I've got time."

She thinks it's probably something to do with the plan to buy a locomotive, and is strangely looking forward to dispensing advice.