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Spying Boro talking to Kuruharan at the bar, Shasta raised an eyebrow.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here. Excuse me just a moment, ladies, I've some... business to attend to."
Excusing himself from the now-defunct card game, Shasta went back to the corner he'd originally placed himself in. Checking under the table, he smiled to himself; his duffel bag was still there. And inside...
A gift from Brinniel a while back. Shasta hefted the folding hand-crossbow and drew an arrow from the bag at his feet, pulling back the slide of the bow and nocking the arrow, snapping the clip into place.
In one swift motion, he raised the weapon, took a split second to aim, and fired. Down went the bow, slack went the string, up folded the wings of the bow. By the time Boro's eyes focused on the arrow embedded and still-quivering in the bar inches from his torso, the crossbow was holstered under Shasta's long vest and he was innocently sitting next to Agan, watching the movie play on the laptop.
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Shasta– ... However, if he's innocent his famous clairvoyant powers must be taking the week off. Meanwhile, the Night-kills have been awfully effective– almost like we're dealing with a psychic wolf... - Nerwen, WW LXXV
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