Corvin rips the arrow from his chest, tosses it to the side, and begins to stagger in the direction of the shooter, bellowing incoherently.
As Corvin staggers forward another arrows fly from a different location than the last one and passess over his shoulder.
At this point, Corvin is more than a little disoriented. He shouts hoarsely;
"Take cover! There's a whole damn army of 'em! Stay down, I'll finish 'em!"
"We are surrounded, by Kord. Don't fall back to the waterfall. Its probably a trap." Thinking of all the bones that are by the entrance. Moves to the middle of the party where his spell will do the most good. "Kord grant us your blessing and give us strenght to defeat our foes."
Dohrlok tries to actually see where the attackers are.
Anarath peers out from the cave – to witness a scene of action and confusion outside. The two dwarves and Corvin have scattered, apparently under attack from some unseen source. An arrow lies on the bank near where Corvin had been standing, and looking frantically around Anarath can see the warrior crouched behind one of the headstones at the other side of the clearing, clutching at another arrow embedded through his armour.
As the fog of confusion clears, a sudden thought comes to him. “The architect…” he whispers to himself. Then, half emerging from the cave, he cups his hands around his mouth and yells out “Segwin! We are friends!”
He looks around and sees the dwarves, who are closer to him than Corvin is. “Dohrlok, it may be the architect! Don’t let Corvin kill him!”
He looks frantically around, into the trees, trying to spot the hidden attacker.
Perhaps I should give a technical description of the clearing. The clearing is about 35 ft in diameter. The cave and waterfall are at the Western edge of the clearing and the last arrow came from the Southern edge. Corvin is in the middle of the clearing.
Dohlrok; You vagueley spot a tall humanoid figure about thirty feet from where the last arrow came from, on the Eastern side of the clearing.
Channeling Greis...
He dives for cover into the cave and begins to load a bolt into his crossbow while mentally reviewing his list of spells.
The last arrow came from the South edge of the clearing, about forty feet away, directly in front of you.
Corvin has become more and more confused the more the sniper has been shooting at the adventuring party. He still has no idea who is shooting at him, and he doesn't have the sense to listen to what anyone else is saying. He finally lets the 'fog of war' get to him. Corvin kneels in the middle of the clearing, two broken arrowshafts protruding from his gut, yelling out to the skies,
"I can't take it anymore! Just stop shooting at me! It's not my fault, whatever it is! Just stop!"
As Anarath draws attention to himself via his shout an arrow flys from the Southern edge of the clearing and strikes him.
Anarath yells loudly as the arrow pierces his thigh, and stumbles back into the cave. “Godsdamnit!” He hisses. “Ah Greis, I’m hit. I think there’s at least two of them out there, one from the south. Maybe my architect theory was wrong.”
Cursing himself for not being more careful, Anarath prepares himself to cast his Mage Armor spell.
“Midnight,” he says, switching to Draconic. “I want you to fly out of here, towards the copse of trees to the south. Look carefully, and send me what you see. Come back at once if anyone tries to fire an arrow at you.” The large bird caws, flaps its powerful wings, and flies up and out of the cave. As soon as he is able, Anarath heads back towards the cave entrance and carefully sticks his head out to re-asses the situation.
"Stand up man. Your life is on the line. Dohrlok, take the left side. I will take the right and lets see if we can flush something out."
Moves over into the cover of the trees and starts heading south to where the shots where comeing from.
"I see someone!" Dohrlok charges the figure he can see in the trees to the east, and while his blow connects (I assume!) it is only glancing.
Behind the cover of the trees is a tall elf with grey hair and a scarred face. His eyes are merciless wells of insanity and bitter anger. His downturned mouth is twisted into an expression of deep and utter hatred. He drops his elegant longbow and draws a shortsword and a longsword. He lets out a feral snarl of somethig in the elven tonuge and prepares to swing his swords at Dohlrok.
Channeling Greis...
He trains his crossbow on the spot where Dohlrok entered the woods, ready to shoot an emerging foe.
Seeing Anarath go down under an arrow, and Corvin go mad from fear and pain, he hugs up his crossbow and levels a cool look at the necromancer.
"The time has come to end this. I have a plan."
The courage in his voice, the still and quiet of it, was entirely new. He steels himself a moment, as if watching for a clear spot to open for him, and then ducks down and runs his way toward the edge of the forest where Dohrlok has reported sighting one of their attackers. He moves as nimbly and quickly as possible--focusing on making himself a hard target to the exclusion of all else until he joins the dwarf in amidst the trees.
Greis' convoluted path keeps him safe and he reaches the edge of the forest without incident. He soon comes to the spot where the elven man and Dohlrok stand.
The tall elf swings his two swords towards Dohlrok with a furious snarl. The shortsword finds a weak spot in his defense and strikes a glancing blow.
Greis stumbles through the edge of the wood, pulling the leaves and branches from his hair when his eyes snap up to see a figure who must be Segwin. He lurches back as the blades come swinging around. Suddenly his eyes narrow and his fingers arch upward. He waves the his fingers towards himself in a complicated motion that is almost beckoning and forms magic words of enchantment on his lips--words designed to sap will and to transform hostile feelings to benign. As they spill forth Greis can feel the warmth and the power of them, accompanied by a giddy rush of accomplishment.
The tall elf swings his two swords towards Dohlrok with a furious snarl. The shortsword finds a weak spot in his defense and strikes a glancing blow.
Corvin's funk ends with a start, and he realizes (after some contemplation) that there was, in fact, only one attacker (having visual aids no doubt helps this realization). The fighter's pain evaporates, replaced by anger at being tricked, and he rises, cutting around behind the crazed elf and readying a brutal assault.
Channelign Gawlak...
Gawlak clears the treeline and comes to a stop about five feet away from the mad elf and stabs at the elf but the strike goes to high, jutting past the elf's shoulder.
Anarath had thought that at least one of the arrows had come from the tree line to the south, but he can hear his companions fighting someone – or something – in the forest to the east. Unsure whether they are dealing with two enemies or one very fast moving one, he mentally urges Midnight through their empathic link to fly below the treeline to the south, land in a tree, and see what he might see.
Meanwhile, Anarath runs across the clearing to where Dorhlok and the others battle, his hat flying from his head and landing on the grass.
As he breaks the tree line and stops a few paces from the fight, his eyes widen in surprise at seeing that his companions are battling an elf, and he calls out in his native tongue: “Toror’! Iest lle n’uma cron miatan! Tamip dagor iest miatan, synthra.” (Brother! We wish you no ill! Please, we do not wish to fight).
Dohrlok swings a fist at the elf's jaw, aiming to incapacitate rather than kill. Dohrlok hopes he can take down the elf before Corvin's rage does something more permanent - any intelligence about the manor would be lost if he were shredded.
The elf seems startled by the blow but is still on his feet.
The elf seems dazed for a moment but then shakes the effect off and even more rage fills his eyes. "Die!" he screams and swings at Greis with both of his swords. They flash in the afternoon sun but pass a few inches from Greis' face.
Corvin's timing couldn't have been worse. Just as he leaps at the crazed elf from behind, the elf lunges forward at Greis, causing Corvin to land sprawling in the dirt with a heavy clanking noise (and much swearing).
The elf glances at Corvin and a mocking smile spreads across his face. In a gravelly voice he says "Pathetic human." and turns back to the rest of the battle.
Midnight sees nothing but unbroken forest. The elf ignores your words, focused entirley on trying to kill your comrades.
Channeling Gawlak...
Gawlak swings a powerful blow with his morningstar. It smashes into the half-elf's side with a sickening thump and the crack of a broken rib. The elf doubles over in pain for a moment before straightening slightly, even anfrier than before.
Dohrlok aims a flurry of blows at the elfs head but misses widely, his evcitement at battle overcoming his judgement.