WOT Adv 13

--- The Wheel Turns ---
You watch the man for a moment. He curses and draws a long, thin blade from a scabbard and manages to down one of the birds. "Ha! Take that!"

"Wetlander!" you shout from the tower doorway. "This tower is cursed, flee for your very life!" And you burst from the doorway making for the trees. You bend your hooded head against the rain and plunge towards the nearest tree line, some 100 paces away to your right. Three of the dark-eyed ravens break off their attack on the man and pursue you instead, but three remain to pester the retreating wetlander.

"By the Light," the man replies in some astonishment at seeing you bolt like a hare from the darkened doorway. "I believe you're right!" and he also heads to the nearest tree-line, but he moves cautiously, occassionally striking back at the birds, when such opportunity presents itself, but otherwise is trying to stay clear of their foul claws.

You manage to reach the tree-line, and you can see the ravens are right behind, although they haven't. You can either keep moving deeper into the trees hoping to lose the persistant birds or engage them here and gain some advantage fighting among the deeper foilage of the forest. You decide to turn and face the birds, you quickly ready your spear, just as the birds are upon you.

You can see the wetlander trying to make his way to the tree-line, and while he doesn't try to lose his cool you can see he's struggling as claws shred his face. Then you focus on your own battle and you lose sight of the wetlander. The three birds careen after you, although they move somewhat slower, having to navigate the tree branches and other foilage that offers you some bonus against their tearing claws. But they still come at you. One of them manages to claw your face, but you dodge the other two.

You strike with a quick jab back but cannot connect the quickly flying birds. And once more they come at you. Again, another claws your weapon hand, leaving a deep furrow. You whirl the butt end of your spear at another as it darts by, but again meet only air.

"Arrggg! The Dark One take you!" you hear the wetlander curse from somewhere else in the forest line. "I will not go down to mindless shadowspawn such as these!"

They close around you and feel yet another claw shred the front of your tunic, clawing deeply into your chest. But this time you concentrate and your whirling staff clubs one right on the head, smashing its tiny skull and it falls with a crumple to the wet forest floor. There are only two left, but you can feel yourself weakening.

The remaining two come at you with a furious flurry of black wings and beaks. But you manage to use the trunk of a large tree to your advantage while at the same time crumpling another. Only one left. It comes at you, and with a duck and a roll on the soaked forest floor, you come up behind him, as he darts past, and slam your spear's haft onto its back, dropping it.

You then move cautiosly to find the wetlander. You eventually follow the sound of moaning and see the thin wetlander man covered in blood, leaning heavily with his back against a large tree trunk. Between him are two slain birds. He's conscious, but only barely. His hood is torn from his head and his short cropped, black hair is matted with blood and rain to his head. He moans something about the the Pattern and how the tale must go on; you're not sure he's entirely lucid. He tries to focus on you when you approach, but he slides down to a sitting position with his back against the trunk.

"Who are you?" he questions in a weak, but somehow loud and annoying voice. "And have you come to torment me; you bring with you the pale shadows of clawed and feathered doom." He closes his eyes.

You can easily tell, that he's not in a condition weak to move quickly.

"I am Maer Loch."

"Mere luck, eh? Bad luck I call you," he smiles weakly and spits some blood. "But burn me, I hope you aren't here to kill me. But if you're a robber, take what you like, only leave me be. But if you be a kindlier soul, please stay with me through this darkening day; for I can feel my life ebbing from me."