123
The warrior shrieks his death-cry and falls backwards, his arms outstretched and his fingers clawing blindly at the air. By chance they become tangled in the rope ladder and his body is lifted into the air as the giant black bird takes to the sky. A wave of panic engulfs you. In desperation you leap up and aim a blow at the small sack in an attempt to cut it loose. Your blow slices open the velvet and one of the two Lorestones tumbles into the graveyard below, coming to rest close to the door of the Sepulchre. Angry and crestfallen, you watch as the bird and its precious cargo rise above the trees and listen helplessly as the muffled flap of its wings fades into the distance.
