[Center][B][h2]The Girl in the Box[/h2]

[H3]An Adventure
in an
Ancient World
of
Magic, Monsters,
and
Mysteries[/h3]

[color=ed1c24]CLOSED[/color][/B][/center]


[url=https://i.imgur.com/xUI5Za7.png]Killian[/url] rose slowly and quietly from within the thick underbrush and aimed his notched arrow. He'd expected the buck to emerge from behind the big Fir tree beyond which it had been feeding at any second. And yet three or four minutes had passed with Killian seeing nothing more than the tips of the buck's big rack shaking about as he nibbled the grass. 

His arms were beginning to tremble, and he was about to return the bow to an idle state when suddenly his prey stepped forward and presented its neck. Killian let the arrow fly, watching it whiz over the underbrush, between the two big Firs, and – because of his trembling, exhausted arms – over the buck's neck and off into the forest.

The buck leapt upwards at the surprise and bolted away. Killian quickly snatched another arrow from the quiver hanging at his hip, notched it, and aimed for a second shot. He wouldn’t have the chance to get it, though. 

He stood and walked forward, beginning the search for his wayward arrow. He could have just let it go, but arrows didn't grow on trees.

He'd traveled through over two hundred feet of forest before he found the arrow stuck in an old rotting tree. He cocked his head at a new sound, listened for a moment, and realized it was the crashing of waves upon the seashore. 

Killian loved the sea but only from on the shore. He'd never been on a sea going boat, unlike his grandfather who’d been a merchant sailor all his life. Still, Killian enjoyed the sand and the smell of the salt in the air and even wading into the surf and feeling the waves slam into him. 

He continued onward, abandoning the hunt and emerged from the treeline to a very unexpected sight: the wreck of a merchant vessel on the reef just a couple of dozen yards off shore.

Just as interesting, though, was a large crate sitting in the surf, being battered by the waves. It appeared to have breathing holes along the top edge and was large enough to hold perhaps a dozen goat kids or other animals of such bulk. 

Killian looked for survivors of the shipwreck. He saw a half dozen bodies littering the beach in both directions but saw no one seemingly alive. Taking the animals while crew and/or owners were still alive was, of course, a crime. But if there were no survivors to speak of, such taking was considered legal salvage. 

Killian stripped off his quiver and pack, then hurried down to the crate to see what [I]treasures[/I] – living or otherwise – might be his. He checked for locks but found only clasps with pins through them. 

“So, who's inside here?” he joked softly to the animals as he unfastened the clasps and opened the gate just enough to peek inside. He added, “And will I be eating you tonight or milking you so that Stella can make cheese?”