One day on Shadowmoor

The bonfire of a very tenuous light, as if the fog that raises slowly by the hill grasped to the dark, resisting to vanish. The few grass that grows in the hard soil seems to play with the shadows, deep and more and more dense, like being useful that the moon had still not left, making fun of her.

Of backs to the bonfire, like good watch, Bowen mounts guard. One of the first lessons that taught to their cadets was the one never to watch directly a light source, by more tempter than outside. They had to be able to distinguish the threats hidden between the shades, without being blinded by brilliance.

A scrub is shaken slightly. In silence, moving to the rate of the dancing shades, Bowen reacts and it is hidden to a side, being fused with the dark outside the light circle. Observing…

Just before the invader enters the clear one of the bonfire, Bowen perceives its strong scent: sweat, blood, rust, skin badly tanned. “Boggart”, thinks the soldier kithkin.

Confirming its suspicion, boggart approaches without the smaller precaution the bonfire, with the attention put in the tended unconscious figure to a side of the light source. Then, the wind changes, exactly in the direction of the intruder, who pauses and smells carely the air, with distrust.

With the element surprise lost, Bowen jumps quickly from the shades, with the unholstered sword. Boggart reacts before receiving the blow and it's thrown in direction of attack, to intercept it. Both they hit in the air and they fall in a confusion of roars and legs tamed.

- “Not ataakc me, Not ataakc me, Im baakc...”

Bowen is gotten up, containing the sword without never letting watch boggart.

- “You could have been a child of the twilight, that emerges from the shades, creating chaos until they demand them to the shades, " it says the kithkin, in superstitious tone.

- "Not ataakc me, Not ataakc me" boggart continues demanding, between whispers…

- "¿Did you find the woeleecher?" Bowen asks, with a glance of preoccupation towards where Mika lies, bathed in sweat in spite of dry it at night.

Boggart is becoming, without stopping watching Mika. With the head it makes a sign to indicate it left that it behind the trees. Between deliriums, Mika twists, although she does not have wounded. Bowen explains why he needs it. " One head senses the curse. The second lossens it form the soul. The third drinks it as an invigotating mist."

Boggart agrees again, stupidly, with an expression completely blank in the face.

Bowen breathes, deeply desperate to have to deal with somebody so different from himself. “Those that are different are not reliable, are unpredictable.” It was never possible to be too cautious.

Which makes him remember something about a dagger…

And it could always use an extra weapon…

- " Listen " says Bowen, " when we found that pair of Faeries… "

- " Paair of Faeres? " answers the boggart, very slowly.

- " The pair of Faeries with which us just found!"

- " Oh, oh! Paair of faeress"

- " In short, when we found them, they had a bone dagger and took it. Where is it? "

- " Daggeer…? "

" Yes. The one that you took. Where you have it? "

Then he remembers. When he gathered the dagger, the boggart had hung it on his belt. But this boggart not even wears trousers. After all, they are not as idiot as they seem.

When seeing itself shortage, the boggart takes an ignited branch from the bonfire and attacks with a military howl. He is not rival for a kithkin, who defeat he with a single slice. But around the unexpected camping there is now a circle of shining and cruel eyes.

the Boggarts attacks. With the reflex of a veteran, Bowen kills both first, with a pair of quick and elegant movements of his sword. But they continued approaching.

Three more put him away from Mika. Bowen recognizes the dagger in the claws of one of them, the boggart that originally helped him to carry Mika. That is the problem with boggarts. All see equals. Another one brings an extraordinary mallet. Perhaps he is the leader.

The leader of the band of boggarts brandishes his mallet in circles on his head, to take impulse, but he fails the blow directed to the kithkin. It cannot stop its movement in time and, very carefreely, he strikes in the chest its companion whom he had to the left. Surprised and out of breath, boggart falls to the bonfire, scattering live coals and intensifying the fire with its dry clothes. In the light of the new brilliance, Bowen sees impotent how average dozen of boggarts falls on Mika, whom without complaining at least, disappears of his seen. Luckyly the noises of the battle that continues almost manage to drown the sound of boggart chewing and nibbling bones. Trying to turn aside his attention and trying to close itself to the last vestiges of the mental bow that unite still him with Mika, it reaches to cutthroat to most reckless of boggart with a blow of left to right. Without stopping the sword, he now grasps with the two hands, giving him a greater impulse and dividing another boggart of the collarbone to the other side of the chest. It does not have time to recover the breath, because four more boggarts arrives.

He gives the back to the bonfire, using it to cover his rear. Error. One Boggart, with the eyes injected of blood and blinded to danger, jumps on flames. Bowen reaches to see him and, in a flowed movement, loose his sword and turns on himself, holding the boggart from the ears, being useful his same impulse. It continues with his turn, giving a complete circle return of right to left, maintaining to ray the others attackers. When giving the complete circle, throw the boggart on the bonfire, using the momentum of the turn to leave projected in the opposed direction, hitting with the head a boggart very surprised by all the movement and listening with satisfaction the crunch when breaking the nose and the jaw of the boggart. Well. four left.

Suddenly, a tremor feels, that causes the boggarts falls to the ground. Bowen as soon as he was rising, so he manages to take advantage of the disagreement of his adversaries to rob a shield of one of the bodies. Although it's not possible to be fitted to his arm, he puts between him and his adversaries while he touches with the other hand the ground, in search of a weapon. his fingers close around the grip of a boggart sword. With lightening, he raises around his eyes, defying his enemies to approach. he listens to theirs laughter, mocking. Bowen notices he picked up a broken sword a handspan by above of the grip. It does not matter. The important thing is that he still alive and that still has an opportunity. The leader of boggarts, smiling voraciously, returns to brandish his mallet and signals to the others that they advance on kithkin.

The ground becomes to shake again, now being shaken as if outside a boat catched between two currents. Bowen loses the balance and, not to fall, he subjects of a shrub with the hand that grasped the robbed shield. That distraction make two boggarts to take advantage of to jump infuriated, using the bodies of two of the fallen ones to reach a greater height and to have the advantage on Bowen. The Kithkin, with the experience of one hundred battles, receives the one of the right with the broken sword, making him lose the impulse and the head, while loose the shrub and turns to the other side to receive his new opponent with a solid punch… that does not reach to connect, because boggart stretches hopelessly trying to seize the initiative to him to the soldier. Instead of the solid blow that hoped, Bowen feels the jaws of boggart closing itself around the external part of his hand. A humid Crunch is listened when the sharpened eyeteeth clip two fingers to him. Of a pull, Bowen manages to shake it of above, while he is concentrated in not shouting. There will already be time to lament himself later.

Instead of take advantage of the situation, boggarts remains paralyzed, with a disagreement expression. Bowen, with a terrible chill crossing his back, turns around backwards of his shoulder…

… and it reaches to see, surprised of terror, something that seems a colossal hand that rises among the shades and, in a movement as inevitable as the landslide of a mountain, falls on the bonfire and everything what was around.

The giant extinguishes the annoying bonfire that he had in the back, while slowly he stretches and finishes squashing and shaking the annoying little creatures that were there, bothering him.

With a thought as slow as growing of the grass, the giant get ready to look for another village to drop himself envelope to sleep…