Legends of Belariath
Oak the Fisherman
The Night of Raven's Daughters
As told by Oak The Fisherman
The sky was blacker than night, covered with thier leather wings. Dozens of them fell on the town like the sea crashing over rocks. Each one was twelve feet tall, with steel talons and stone fangs, and faces that would make Daron Half-man too good for them. *Pauses for laughter to die down and ducks under Daron's hurled cloak.* And the smell would take the bark off of the trees. If you don't beleive me, go look for yourself. There's a copse just outside of the town with naked trunks! There I was, just heading out of the arena, and they swooped down, screaming like the Raven himself, raking at the group with thier talons. I pulled out my hammer while a wolven rended at them with his bare claws, a catgirl threw rocks, and a healer was whipping her skirts at them. The battle was glorious. With one hurl, I crushed one of the cursed monster's skulls. As it fell, one of its friends was coming after me, and my hammer was lying in a pool of Harpy blood. All I could do was set myself to grab it when it reached me, and it was just about on me when it crashed to the ground. That crazy wolven bastard had jumped on its back and slammed it into the ground, tearing it apart. When I went to pick up my hammer, I found this ring, a trophy. It took only minutes to kill them all, but it took the guards hours to clean up the mess.