You had been taking a few days off from the high sea and all its glory, to bury some of your recently acquired plunder in the Glaude Woods. Just as an insurance, least some misfortune beset you in the future so that you will not be entirely without funds. Of course as luck would have it one such event befalls you on this very endeavour, as you suddenly spot a Halfling hiding behind a tree.<br/><br/>Hoping that such a small and pathetic creature would give up when losing the advantage of surprise you call out to it, but it still fired on you with a sling shot, which you were able to avoid. However as you move to teach the scoundrel a lesson, a second Halfling and a strange black feathered humanoid whose arms resembled wings emerged from tress and drew their blades. Flanked, but confident of victory you dug your heels in, but your opponents proved to be better than you had anticipated. You cracked the Halfling jaw, but not before they could stab you in the lower ribs. Then a second stone flies out from the trees and strikes you on the crown of your head, staggering you. The pommel of the tengu’s sword then struck you in the back of the head, and all you saw was black.<br/><br/>Sometime later, you cannot be sure how long; you awaken on a bed of raw earth. Instinctively your hand goes to you money pouch that had hung from your belt, but it isn’t there and neither is the belt. You are dressed in a grey homespun gown with an open back, tied around your neck and reaching several inches below your waist. Here is a strange taste in your mouth, thick with the vaguest trace of honey. The wound to flank has been treated and indicates you were out for a few days at least. In your right hand you clench a shaft of twisted wood, ending in a hollow sphere with a metal plug punctuated with numerous, tiny holes. It rattled, and when you remove metal plug you find a single chip of wood had been placed inside it, the rough surface a lighter shade than the wood of the strange weapon. Looking around you find yourself in the dead end of corridor, the walls on your three sides formed of twisted wooden vines, all sprouting a generous array of thorns. The growth are many layered, enough that the light of the sun can barely penetrate, as the vines reach up and loop over, forming a ceiling just as solid as the walls. There is only one way to go, which travels in a straight line until the gloom swallows it up.<br/><br/>OOC: You have taken 4 points of lethal damage, as the stab wound hasn’t quite healed. The weapon you have operates as small light mace with the fragile quality.