Ymiden 83, Arc 717
Somewhere between Rharne and Scalvoris Town, Arlo had stopped and bought himself a pistol crossbow. He was a fair shot with a shortbow already, and he owned a good one that had brought down any number of good meals and hides over the past arc. And troublemakers too. But it had occurred to him that if he was to learn to handle a bow from the saddle while on the move, then a smaller, more compact weapon that could be fired with just one hand might be a better choice. He hadn't learned to fire the thing yet, but he figured he had a pretty good start already by virtue of his experience with a shortbow.
He'd developed a habit lately of removing one of his cart's wheels whenever he camped, then propping the thing up on a wooden block. Usually he stored the loose wheel out of sight, but this trial Arlo had decided to put it to use. He covered it with a scrap of hide that had come off a slain beast back in Desnind, stuffed it with loose straw and then suspended the makeshift target from a nearby tree with a length of rope. That left it dangling roughtly four feet off the ground. While he'd gotten his target ready, Peg grazed nearby, completely uninterested in what he was doing. And Lyova buzzed round the brim of his hat, firing off one question after another and generally getting in the way.
Sitting down on a log by the fire, he pulled the bow out of the wooden box that it had come stored in. The thing that had struck him when he'd first laid eyes on the thing, was that it had a great many more working parts than an ordinary bow. There was the stock and the stocking stirrup, the sight and the sight bridge and the latch, the trigger, the retention spring and the foregrip. Quiver, riser, barrel, the list went on. Then there were the bolts that were much smaller than what he was accustomed to firing. But they looked just as deadly. The man who'd sold him the thing had agreed when Arlo had remarked on it and had asked about the range. A better one than his shortbow seemed to have, was what he'd concluded. It was self cocking too, which would make things a little bit easier if he was in a hurry to fire.
After taking the bow out of the box and testing its weight and balance in his hand, Arlo found it lighter than his shortbow. With a bit of practice he could easily fire the thing with one hand and still count on hitting his target. Even on the move, firing from the saddle. Not yet though, walk before you run, Arlo thought. Taking up a position some distance from his target, he made sure that Peg was grazing out of the way and he shooed the curious Lyova who only he could see, out of his line of vision. She settled on the brim of his hat while he loaded a bolt and took aim. The proper stance while firing was much the same as when he handled his crossbow, the only real difference was the fact that he held and fired the bow with one hand rather than two.
His makeshift target was swinging and turning just a little due to a light breeze. But no so much that it ought make any difference. So using the sight to take aim, he squeezed the trigger and let the bolt fly. And he knew before he looked that his shot would have gone high. And it did, having clipped the tip of the target and then tumbled and fallen to the ground on its far side. The kick was a little more than Arlo had expected. There was recoil, just the same when he fired his shortbow. But he was accustomed to that, and firing with one hand made a difference too. "Aim lower then," he said to himself as he slid another bolt into the thing and took aim again. Lower, just a hair to the left of where he'd aimed before, and anticipate, therefore adjust to the inevitable kick.
