First Kill
Circus Spectaculum 6
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Dale and Moz spend the next few days exploring the area and practicing with their bows. They fashion soft targets out of branches and leaves that won’t break their arrows.
Not finding much near the trading outpost they made wider and wider circles in their explorations. One day, from the edge of a tree line, they spotted a keep to the east. It was much too close to be a frontier castle, but it did lie in the opposite direction to the guidance. A castle, however, could be a source of work for pay. It was worth watching.
As it was getting late, they decided to camp nearby and watch the keep to see if it lit up at night. They fashioned nests in a tree where they could have a good view. But as darkness fell, the castle did not light up. It showed no life at all.
They were about to go to sleep when, under the bright moonlight the silhouette of a figure appeared from around the corner of the castle and started down the hill toward them. It moved slowly, haltingly, but travelled straight for them.
“What is that?” asked Moz.
“I don’t know,” answered Dale, “Looks like a guard.”
The closer it got the more details they could discern. The figure was wearing rags but carried a sword and wore some kind of breastplate.
Dale and Moz’s attention was utterly focused as the figure drew close. It was hideous to behold, filthy and skeletal. It closed in on the tree and appeared to start to climb. Moz grabbed his bow, notched it, and reached for an arrow. Dale, watching in panic, followed Moz’s lead.
Moz’s first shot, straight down the tree trunk, scored a perfect hit through one of the creature’s eye sockets. Dale got off a shot, piecing the ribcage for little effect. Moz shot again, this time though the mouth. Dale aimed at the head and pierced a temple, rocking the creature.
“That’s it,” said Moz excitedly, “Aim for the head!”
Moz shot again, hitting the creature on the bony forehead. It jerked back, lost its grip, and fell clumsily to the ground, breaking into pieces.
The two young men stared at the pile of bones, waiting for it to move. After an interminable period, Moz started to climb down the tree.
“Don’t shoot me by accident,” Moz said.
Dale eased up on his draw.
Near the ground, Moz rounded the tree and dropped down on the side away from the bones. He felt around for a good-sized rock and came around the tree. Dale leaped, touched a few branches on the way down and landed beside Moz.
"You're going to have to teach me that trick someday,” said Moz without looking.
“What are you going to do?” asked Dale breathlessly.
“Smash those bones and take the armor. Then bury the bones,” said Moz.
Dale searched for a rock and joined Moz. They pulverized the bones, dug a shallow grave with the sword and shin plates, and buried all the bone fragments. Moz covered the dig with branches and leaves.
“Let’s get away from here,” said Moz.
“Following you,” replied Dale.
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