Bard up a Tree

Though not the best climber, Rifkin is up the thick trunked oak tree like a squirrel after hazelnuts.

Looking down, he's grateful that the hundreds of swarming rats had changed target after the Halfling Liga Burr and his dog crossed their paths.

He's about 150' from the main building and apparently safe for the moment. Catching his breath from the sprint and climb, the lightly elven touched Bard looks back along his path.

The rats seem to be behaving in a highly organised manner. The smaller ones holding formation with the much larger ones hanging back until the enemy are weakened. 

Also, though nearly out of earshot, those damn panpipes are still sounding through the dense mist surrounding the small island.