"Glah-!" Offswitch lunged forward, tackling the shadowy figure-- as he'd suspected, it was very much alive, and apparently Human, from the "What in the World--Hey! No!" it yelped in protest, as Offswitch body-slammed it against the far wall.

Mrrp? impacted the doorway like a tidal wave, shaking the tower and causing blocks to fall like rain around them, and crows to rise up squawking wildly into the darkness. The wodge of white fur trying to squeeze through the narrow doorway vanished as Mrrp? scrambled up the tower, trying to climb it as fast as it was falling. "OMF NOMF NOMF" boomed above the rumble of falling masonry, and many of the crow-cries were cut off abruptly.

"You're scaring the birds!" wailed the shadowy figure-- Offswitch could see now, by the light of a small lantern with purple glass in its windows, that his captive was a man at least twice his age, heavy and solid but not particularly strong, wearing an odd sort of fancy uniform. Dusty black velvet, with slashes of scarlet and buttons and braid of brass, it didn't look much like a dark necromancer's regalia-- no necromancer would be caught dead, or undead, in puffling pants and holey hose, for one thing.

"Good," snapped Offswitch, "They scared us first! Who the hell are you and what are you doing out here?" He brandished a garlic-smeared wooden stake under the man's plump nose.

"I--" the man started to speak, but Mrrp?'s paw went through one of the tower windows above them, knocking down a number of plants potted in old cans around them.

"Sorry!" called Trashscarf's familar cheerful tones. "Our furry friend is a little over-enthusiastic at times--" There was another crash above. Offswitch stepped back away from the terrified stranger as the Waywalker entered with a friendly wave, followed by Woodstrider with her axe ready, then Garbleday, trying to cock his small crossbow. The string twanged his fingers and he yelped.

"Look, I just look after the birds!" said the man. "I'm the Ravenmaster-- or, well, I was-- I still would be! Uh..."

Garbleday looked at him and quickly lowered his crossbow. "The Ravenmaster of Bridgetower?" he said, staring. "But weren't you banished or something? There was a reward--"

"A bounty?" the Woodstrider asked with interest. "For this old guy?"

"I caught him, I call dibs," Offswitch said automatically, but then turned the man loose. "You're the one who's been sending your birds to attack travelers?" he demanded.

The Ravenmaster looked wretched, but determined. Settling his puffy hat--it looked a bit like a fancy black cake on a plate- he gritted his soft jawline. "They're innocent animals," he retorted. "If they attacked you, you probably did something to deserve it!"

"NOOOoooommmmfff--" Mrrp? leapt off the tower in a desperate attempt to eat the fleeing crows. The launch caused the walls to shake and collapse a bit more around them. A distant crash in the forest marked the Catterpillow's landing.

"We did nothing but walk along the road, as every single being in the World has the absolute right to do, despite what laws and legislations legions may lay before us!" Trashscarf declaimed, with a flourish of his scarf. "And your clouds, and your birds--"

"The clouds scare the birds! I don't have any idea why, or where the clouds come from-- my birds and I just wanted to live peacefully!"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Let's get out from under this shockingly unstable tower," Trashscarf pointed out, as more masonry thumped down around them. "We can converse better where the walls are a bit thicker."

They bundled the Ravenmaster through the door and tumbled into the barracks as the last of the tower collapsed behind them with a great crashing and thudding. Trashscarf felt along one wall, and lights bloomed in small lantern sconces around them.

"The birds can't see in the dark," the Ravenmaster was fretting. "They'll be disoriented--"

"All the better then to stay quietly here and let them settle down," Trashscarf said soothingly. He looked around--"Nice place you have here!" he added.

It was, actually. The barracks room had been made into a sort of cozy cabin; the cooking fire had been banked up with stones to make a sort of oven and stove, and the warm coals glowed underneath a pot of what smelled like chowder. Rough cages and aviaries lined the walls, and stacks of supplies and even a fair number of books took up the space.

"Look, you're our prisoner until we decide otherwise," Offswitch said gruffly, giving the Ravenmaster a shove, but not too hard.

"Hey, food," said the Woodstrider, helping herself to the chowder with a wooden spoon.

Garbleday quickly scampered through the few other rooms on this level, with his uncocked crossbow held ready, and finally shouted "All clear!", but no one was paying attention to him by that point.

"I had to leave, I had to," the Ravenmaster was saying, in pleading tones. "You wouldn't believe what the Mayor was asking--"

"Come on, out with the exposition," Trashscarf sighed, making encouraging gestures.

"The Ravens of Bridgetower are ancient tradition," the Ravenmaster said, his eyes wide with emotion. "The legend says that if they ever leave the Mainspan, it means the city is in terrible danger."

"So you've stolen them all to make the city fall!" Trashscarf said triumphantly, pointing an accusing finger, which the Ravenmaster flinched away from.

"No! I've taken care of them for all my life, just like Ravenmasters before me! I was happy, I had a place, a calling! And the birds--they've lived in the city for generations, they're not like wild crows any more! They're very intelligent and sensitive! I call them 'cravens', actually because they're a very interesting natural hybrid of---" The Ravenmaster was clearly about to go into Educational Lecture mode, and only a glance at the party's expression knocked him out of it.

He quickly jumped ahead a few pages. "They're magic, I think-- they do know when something's about to happen. The last time they all left the mainspan, it was right before the Great Flood-- and the time before that, it was pirates-- Bridgetower would have been worse off without their warning!"

"They still attacked us," Offswitch said firmly.

"They do that," the Ravenmaster admitted weakly. "I wish they wouldn't, but ever since the clouds started--"

"So if these birds are so great, why are you and them all out here?" the Woodstrider asked, poking through the chowder for the big lumps. Garbleday came sheepishly back into the room, holstering his crossbow.

"The new Mayor said," the Ravenmaster explained, his elderly eyes brimming at the memory, "-that if they were really magical, then we could keep Bridgetower safe, by making sure the birds could never leave the Mainspan."

"So, cages?" Offswitch said, frowning.

"Worse," sniffled the Ravenmaster. "They can get out of cages, bless their feathery souls! He wanted me to cut their wings; full pinioning, not just a feather-clip!"

"But that's totally cheating! If they can't fly away, how are they supposed to--" Garbleday's keen sense of justice and logic were of little use to him in Trashscarf's World, but nevertheless he tried to use them.

"Exactly!" said the Ravenmaster. "I refused, the Mayor said he'd have someone else do it-- so I took the Elder Ones-- the oldest birds, the wisest, my friends-- with me and ran, and they all followed me. And dragged up a lot of others from the wilds, too," he admitted. "They feel safer in numbers, you see."

"And you've been out here ever since?" Offswitch asked.

"Yes," sighed the Ravenmaster. "It's not right, it's not what we're supposed to do. I could have argued with the Mayor-- there's legal precedent--but Sohvail the Arcanificer doesn't like them either..."

"...and when a powerful wizard doesn't like you, your best option is to shove right off," Trashscarf sighed. "This Sohvail person is not endearing herself to me, I'll tell you that much."

"Question is," the Woodstrider put in, "What are we gonna do about this guy?"