Caleb comes running full tilt up to Fabrica. He stops, hands Fabrica his sword belt and then rests his hands on his knees, winded.
Caleb
"I knew the moment there was trouble, you'd be wantin' this, so I ran for it, first thing."
..."Hey, there's a guy on the floor."
The crow in the tree flaps and bounces amid the branches. Clearly there's something up there with him.
CORVUS-THE CROW
Aaak. Caawak-aw!
The feathered shape straightens and lengthens, wings sprouting fingers that seek out and grip to branches. In a moment, the enigmatic beak twists and curves into a smile somehow already familiar.
CORVUS
I said there's a bow up here. And a quiver, though that's empty.
[i]The naked Corvus tosses a bow down to Conner, who hands it off to the nearest magus on the ground.
The bow is of horn and sinew construction, and looks odd, since recurved bows aren't particularly common in the isles. However, it's clearly a bow meant for use on foot, not horse, being somewhere in between a long bow and a self bow in length.
Corvus then drops to the ground with the quiver and hands it to the nearest magus.[/i]
CORVUS
Here, you can tek this if ye like. It's as empty as a Quaesitor's promise, so it is.
The quiver is a slipshod affair, and could only hold a half-dozen arrows at most. It's made from 2 pieces of leather crudely stitched together.
CORVUS
I saw a figure up there, in the tree. He, for I think it was a man, was playing wit sometin. It was only on the second arrow that I saw what it was. He disappeared as the arrow became a swarm o'shafts.
"Never mind that." snaps Fabrica as he takes up the harness of three swords.
"Caleb, you shall be my shield Grog. Take up this blade, the Iron Wall." says Fabrica as he pulls out the middle sword and holds it aloft with all due ceremony. He presses it into Caleb's eager hand and gets close so he can whisper into Caleb's ear. The arcane malevolence of Fabrica's potent Gift makes Caleb feel like a beast's hot and rank breath is being wafted into his face. "Hold it tightly, but keep your arm limber, do not fight its motions. You shall find it seeks the enemy's blow to parry it. Stand in front of me, one step forward, one step to your left hand. Mind that I'm behind you, but mind more the enemies that are coming for me. Do not charge them, but meet their charge. I shall take care to keep one step behind and one step to the right. Here. Do me proud and keep me alive."
"Where is the Sergeant! Step forward! You should wield this, the Coup De Grace." Fabrica pats the ornate hilt of one of the remaining blades. "And where is the Covenant's champion? I have a blade for him as well."
"Certes," Rhiannon replies in between replacing her 'helpers' and intstructing them, "You may. I'd like to keep them around for longer than a moment, in case something else happens."
Steve
Azaelle gracefully stretches out her hand and a stone emerges from the earth. It glides neatly in its place onto the rock wall as if it was the duty of stones to do her will. She continues to help Rhiannon build; lost in concentration.
Caleb winces only the faintest bit at Fabrica's close proximity. He recovers quickly, taking the sword from Fabrica with a look that's half utter reverence and half dopey grin.
Caleb
"Aye, sir I'm honored"
Carhl, one of Mab's Gaurd's, steps forward. "I have the honour to be the covenant's champion this season," he says. Tall and Lithe, the Tuatha de has all the grace of a cat, and the sinewy strength. His amber eyes glare out from under his helm, looking for someone or something to do harm unto. "What should I do with this?" he asks, indicating the sword that is pressed into his hand.
Steve
Fabrica gives the man an appraising glance, such as when he judges the quality of raw materials, and then nods, handing the sword over carefully, minding the razor sharp edge. "This is the Superlative Blade. It can cause a wound with a touch." He grasps the spear tip dangling from his sleeve and holds it up as if he were to stab with it. "When you want to summon that power you must yell HAI!" and he suddenly stabs the air with a sharp excalamation. "See? HAI!" and he does so again. "Yell it firmly, bring it from the center of your chest. From there merely touch the target, be it man or beast, it can be from a strike or just a touch. It's best to do it at the same time, like when you exclaim as you make a telling blow. You can use this power a score of times in a day. Don't do it now!" Fabrica almost shouts as he sees the man raise the sword and take a breath.
"Now where is the Sergeant? The Coup de Grace works the same way, but the wound is more grievous, and will end almost any fight, but it only works twice a day. I trust the sergeant to be wise enough to use it well. Step forward and claim your weapon!"
"Our sargeant is currently injured, hurt while helping his family clear land for planting. I heard the boar was quite tasty." The weary voice is Diedre's. "We expect him back for the summer season. I would get moving before too long. I'll... stay here and deal with anything that may still be here."
A brief but exhaustive search of the area around the tree reveals nothing to the entire group, save some more of the greasy black feathers. Maybe not so much greasy, as ... rotting? The tree itself stands just outside the Aegis, and commands a wide view of the covenant, including the impromptu fortifications of Rhiannon and Azaelle, and several stone statues, all shaped like various warriors, standing around Feasthall.
Steve
If no-one wishes to question Corvus further (or at all...) he slips away taking a claw full of feathers with him.
CONNER
And why not tell 'em about the feathers?
CORVUS
You don't have to keep me quite so honest.
Corvus notices the disapproving look
CORVUS
There's this... friend o'mine. Well, I say friend... more a... well less, actually. Anyway. I want to check something out before I crow to them about these.
When out of sight, probably back at the cart where his filthy clothes fell, he casts Image of the Beast on the feathers (with a Penetration of 25 + aura).
As Corvus' incantation drifts away, words faltering as the magic brings images to him, Corvus looks up with sightless eyes...
CORVUS
Gaunt... Wings... But... No. Not him. Not him...
And then Corvus' face twists, like a sudden, powerful odour assaults him. His hand spasms open and he drops the feathers.
CORVUS
Aagh! Blood and smoke. Brimstone, I'd bet on. This creature, flesh and blood and hatred and little else. And something's... casting against me.
Conner looks on, concerned at what he's become involved in more than concerned for Corvus.
CONNER
Ye should tell the others o'this.
Corvus pauses, absent-mindedly rubbing the tips of his fingers against each other. He looks skyward as though seeking out the source of the magic he felt his Parma rebuff, considering his options...
CORVUS
Aye. Aye, yer right enough, Conner.
Corvus heads back to the tree to find firstly anyone who's still there, and secondly anyone who'll listen to his description of the gaunt man with raven wings, wreathed in smoke and with a feeling of blood surrounding him.
Mathius
Whilst the other magi are talking and looking around, Mathius walks up to the tree and casts an Intellego Herbam spell on it ("Converse with Plant and Tree
"). Strangely though, both parts of the conversation can be heard.
Mathius rattles off his series of questions, before the tree even begins to answer the first. The words are pitched low, and take the whole exchange takes minutes, but is clearly understandable by all present. "Patience, son of Adam," the tree responds. "A man-thing was the last thing to sit in my branches, sitting there no longer than a squirrel would sit in one place, watching something from them. It simply left, disappearing out of sight..."
Steve