PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 021

PBEM Orlantia: Thinking Ahead

"It seems," said Sefarlain in an austere tone, "that we have finally reached the critical point in our quest. We cannot leave the people of Joad to starve to death and there is nowhere else for them to go. Like it or not, it's probably time to face this creature once again."

His heart felt heavy at the thought. The nightmare had seemed to know at their last meeting that it would meet the elf somewhere else. Having been cheated of its intended prey by the river had only seemed to goad it, and Sefarlain knew their next meeting would not prove so harmless for either of them. His only hope lay in the people surrounding him; this time he would not be alone.

"Do you think we're ready for this creature tonight?" he asked Afyanna. Concern sounded in his voice.

The Holy Warrior did not answer him immediately. Was she still considering their next moves? Mystir's words had partly reassured them after the disappointing result of Alana's incantation, so hope had not yet been dispelled that the statue would somehow help them in the future.

"Not fully, Sef. I'd still like to have a quick look around the cave before night approaches and we can talk during that."

The group quietly explored the caves dotted along the cliff, examining them briefly for size and depth. As they walked back along the beach, the conversation turned once more towards the nightmare. Since the ranger was the only person in the group to have seen the creature at close quarters, it was he who began to explain some of his ideas about what the party could consider.

"I know how this thing has been moving such great distances," stated the ranger to some quizzical expressions. "Well, at least I think I know. When we were in Hooktar, this thing appeared out of nowhere. When it's here, it runs like any ordinary horse."

"What, you mean like on water?" exclaimed Tyrulf. "I'd like to see your horses."

"No, no, well okay. I mean it runs as fast as a horse. Except above the ground, it is like it's hovering. But when it was hit by the crossbow bolt on the riverbank, it just vanished - vanished, into thin air."

He continued as they approached the largest cave.

"Actually, it didn't just vanish. It sort of blinked. I was thinking that this creature might be able to travel along different planes or even someone else is able to move it. It at least explains the large distances this nightmare can cover so quickly. And then, when it appears here, it runs like anything else."

"My concern is that if it's here, how do we stop it vanishing again? If we're going to kill it, I think we'll need to concentrate all of our resources on it quickly. That will involve you, Mystir, as much as everyone else. If we can construct some sort of defense, then the support those with magical abilities can give us can be used with some means of defense as well. We should all think long and hard about what we can each do to kill this thing together. If we are to succeed, it's going to take all of us."

"Does anyone have any other ideas?"

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Revenge Is Near.

Bebe had been relatively quiet since Jahar's burial, keeping to herself for the most part. She helped Alana prepare meals and clean up, and she took care of Bopper and Brambles, and this consumed most of her time.

Earlier, when some of the group had decided to go look at the statue and search the hill, she quietly excused herself and went looking for Brambles. Bebe approached one of the nearby vineyards and blew the little whistle before starting down one of the rows, finally coming upon a windrow full of brush and discarded stones from the surrounding fields, where she knelt and began praying the familiar incantations she was taught by the venerable Quaramil. While she prayed and cleared her mind, she slowly constructed a small altar - really just a few local stones piled neatly with a couple twigs and some holly seeds.

Bebe prayed to Ehlonna to give her divine guidance and to help rid her of the feelings for revenge. Quaramil used to teach her that killing for emotional reasons was always wrong, and if the death of an entity was warranted then it should be for the greater natural balance, and not because of a personal vendetta. It was clear in Bebe's mind that the evil beast must be slain, but she couldn't help but feel guilty about the hatred she held inside after the death of a close companion. This was really the first time since his death that she was alone to begin the healing process.

When her mind cleared itself a bit more, she stood and lifted her cudgel high in the sky - for a gnome, anyway - and asked the gods above, "Ehlonna, Garl Glittergold, Corellon Larethian, hear my plea and grant unto me the strength in the coming hours allowing me defeat the foul beast plaguing this community, and grant me the wisdom to uncover the plot which threw it upon the earth, and to discover its master's hand behind it."

There was no answer, but Bebe had expected none. The gods rarely answered such pleas - at least not in overt ways, though it was commonly taken as fact the gods did hear such prayers. However, a black crow sitting atop a nearby branch cawed, looking directly at her, as if it understood her prayer. Then it flew away.

When Bebe was finished, she took a deep breath of the spring-like air and headed back to the caves to help the unfortunate villagers, gathering more berries along the way.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Preparations.

The light from Gimarian reddened and cooled in the early evening as the sun fell toward the horizon. In other circumstances the ranger could have enjoyed the beautiful sight, but that night for the first time, nature's offering to the elf was not appreciated. He had more pressing thoughts on his mind.

*Two hours until sunset and so little time.* The mood was somber as the party considered their options.

"Do you not think that mobility is our real problem?" asked Sefarlain. "This nightmare has attacked us without warning once before. It was on me before I could react, and we've seen how it fights unopposed."

Afyanna looked unimpressed. "So what are you proposing? We can't slow this thing down very easily."

"No, I see that," he answered. "But we can reduce its mobility once it has arrived. The beach here is very open and without cover. The nightmare has all the advantages. If we can form some sort of cover or protection from those stomping attacks, we may have a bit of the initiative."

An idea seemed to spark in Cosher's mind at this thought.

"Ah have a thought in me mind. Do ya think maybe some wooden stakes cannae be o' some use?"

Each looked to another. Stakes? Could they help? Afyanna seemed to think so from her reply. She, of all the party, had some experience with horses in a military sense and the idea for her seemed to carry some merit.

"Well, it will stop the charges and stamping for some of the party, at least," she began. "We might not all be able to hide behind them, but it could help some of us, I suppose."

She went on to describe how stake formations were taught in the Marching Alderami to resist cavalry charges, and various tactics to avoid them. As she spoke, the idea seemed to gain momentum and merit. Stakes in a small group, if well made and sunk deep into the ground, could certainly give some of the party some cover without hampering their own movements.

*This could really work,* thought Sef, *but if we don't start now, we'll not get anything ready.* His final comment was nothing, if not practical.

"What about the villagers? Can they help us?"

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Walls Of Spears.

No one else seemed to have any better ideas regarding preparation, and whatever the case, most felt some cover would be helpful.

Horton, at the party's behest, organized a workforce of the fittest remaining men, armed with ax and saw from their farms, and Bebe marched them into the nearby wood, showing them what to look for - long, strong branches that could be harvested without killing whole trees. Hurriedly, a hundred or so villagers harvested the sorts of branches that would work, sped homeward with their charges under their arms or on carts, and set to work again whittling away at the wooden limbs. They were hammered into place along the beach, several little clusters that each rose up like a semicircle shaped wall of spears, set in double tiers to span the length of an average horse's leap - a good 20 to 25 feet. Palisades of pointed sticks rose up to deter a charging beast. Anyone could stand within such a defensive arrangement or run away in the opposite direction to another structure facing the other way if the charge came from that quarter. Also, a single pike was left mobile so it could be moved and set to receive a leaping horse's charge at that last instant. Granted, all that work probably wouldn't do much to a nightmare, but the opening volley of damage in a battle was often enough to demoralize many foes, and an intelligent beast might also be susceptible.

Sadly, there were too few of these palisades - perhaps only a dozen clusters or so, set in opposing pairs with several yards between them so no matter the direction of the nightmare's approach, a person could use one of each pair to defend a 180 degree field of fire.

"And some are close to the water, too," Sef pointed out, "so if nothing else, you can run into the lake. That kept the nightmare off my back last time. It's a weakness it has, I guess," he told everyone.

Honestly, against a lone horseman, it looked like a brilliant arrangement for archers or crossbowmen. The trouble was, unfortunately, they couldn't guarantee the nightmare would approach them. It was not a stupid horse, after all. It was an intelligent nightmare.

*This isn't really a defensive game,* thought Sef, as they were finishing the walls of spears. *If that beast is intelligent, it may well know all it has to do is keep starving them out. We may have arrived too late to use a purely defensive strategy. Damn! If I were the beast, I'd make the people bring the battle to me or just wait them out.*

The ranger's thoughts troubled him. Despite the most experience with fighting the thing of any there, he really had no idea what it might do yet. And now the sun was touching the horizon.

*At least the townsfolk did a marvelous job in the time they had,* he thought.

"I've got an crossbow here," offered one of the townsmen. "I mean, if any of you wish to use it."

Sef looked at it. It was quite old and not well maintained, but serviceable. And it was a heavy crossbow - not one of those light ones that many carried around with them. He preferred his own bow, of course, but thought maybe one of his comrades might be able to use it.

"Anybody want a heavy crossbow?" he asked.

Half of the sun's disc was already below the horizon.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe Has An Idea.

After Bebe returned with the villagers from her stake foray, she went to Sefarlain and said, "Hey Seffy, I hear you have a little trouble tracking this little horsy hellion of yours unless it is standing over you on a lake or water." Bebe snickered to herself at the lighthearted jest. She knew it would probably rub the elf the wrong way after his still recent encounter with it, but being a gnome, she just couldn't resist.

"What if we took a little of my original 'Essence of Bebe' perfume to splatter on it? That way if it pops out, Brambles could pick up the beast's scent and perhaps lead us to its lair." Bebe thought a bit more and then continued. "It has to be holed up fairly close if it's using this village as a base of operations. I think that perhaps the man in purple is either a priest of Dionysus or a disciple of His. Who knows, it may even be the God himself looking into the secret of the sweet, high quality wine. From the description given to us, it could be."

Bebe saw all of the villagers nearby shudder at the thought of a divine entity so close, and it dawned on her that she should have been a little bit more sympathetic to the easily frightened villagers and should not have blurted that out so loudly, but it certainly got everyone's attention.

The gnome decided to be more careful when she continued.

"Dionysus is of course the God of Wine, and as such may have come across the superior quality issuing from this region. If that was the case, then he may be very, very interested in the cause. Who knows, there could be an ancient and powerful dweomer over the valley that mere mortals cannot detect, and the knowledge has been lost to antiquity. He may even believe that the secret is still being hidden by the villagers and has sent the nightmare forth to punish them and help find the answer."

"Mystir," Bebe called, "what do you think? Could this valley be powerfully endowed? What do you think?"

Mystir frowned deeply as he considered the possibility. "It could be, of course, but I don't know . . ." he trailed off, returning to his deeper thoughts.

Bebe then turned her attention to Horton. "If there is anything you or anyone else knows about this, you better come clean now because chasing down the nightmare may not even touch the surface of the greater problem your community has. If we succeed in destroying the beast tonight, we may find ourselves on an even more interesting path than stumbling onto a company of distraught drow with deranged squirrels up their robes." Bebe had a slight guffaw at the hilarious vision of squirrels harvesting in a most uncomfortable area, at least for men.

"By the way," Bebe asked Horton as an afterthought, "has anyone gone insane since the 'purple man' came visiting?"

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Taken Aback.

The villagers seemed more than a little shocked at Bebe's recent behavior. She had been so quiet, so helpful, and so . . . so . . . well, small. Suddenly she seemed almost exuberant and larger than life, almost even reckless. Was she badmouthing a god?

"Umm, I don't think Dionysus would do that," said Horton, looking upwards. It wasn't clear if he really thought that, or if he wanted to make it clear he wouldn't say that and thus should not be held accountable for Bebe's claims.

Accusing a god of such a crime was . . . well, dangerous, in most people's minds. It might not even matter if the accusations were true. One didn't bandy about a greater god's name in anything but the most respectful manner, lest they draw unwanted attention and divine ire.

"Would the great god, Dionysus, God of Wine, look so unfavorably upon our humble vineyards? No! We have no secrets from the gods," Horton proclaimed loudly. "How could mere mortals keep secrets from the gods?" he intoned toward the heavens, raising his hands upwards.

It was clear Bebe had upset him and made him nervous. But there was something else, too. Horton seemed angry. Why? Of course, Bebe hadn't just accused the gods - and who knew what they did, anyway? - but she had also accused Horton and the others of holding back information vital to their struggle.

He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and then bust out, "YOU, Why, How dare, What good . . . " Horton was struggling to say something coherent, but eventually he must have thought better of it, and instead defiantly marched back into the caves and away from the gnome, turning his back on her in a huff.

Andrew watched him go. Up until then, Horton had always been the cool, collected one, while Andrew seemed at a perpetual simmer. Now Andrew merely looked confused.

"Insane? Why insane? No, by the way, no one has gone insane, recently, or as far as I know, ever. Why insane?" he asked Bebe calmly.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: The Call Of The Wild.

One by one the stars began appearing in the darkening sky to the east, the hazy, western glow growing dimmer by the minute as the sun dipped lower below the horizon.

All the villagers had huddled into the caves as they had done many nights before, except this time they emptied the one closest to where the party prepared to confront the nightmare. That cave they left open, its iron grate unlocked and ready to accept the travelers if they were forced to flee. But should they fail, should the hell horse gain entry after them, no one else would be at risk. The townsfolk had done all they could, or at least all they had the nerve to do. It was up to the others now - up to the Holy Warrior of Wrath, many said.

Horton and Andrew stood at the next cave's mouth, ready to swing the grate shut at a moment's notice. Andrew's question to Bebe had gone unanswered - for now - since he had been called away to organize the move. Though he was toying with the idea of going over and asking the gnome again, he decided it could wait. He had seen that creature and what it could do, and the way it could appear seemingly out of nowhere. It was not the time to satisfy his curiosity.

Valin guarded the first grate, ready to swing it shut as the last of them piled in, should it come to that. Afyanna, Sefarlain, and Cosher - all warriors - patrolled up and down along the beach, each staying close to one of the palisades. Closer to the cave and the remaining palisades were the spellcasters, Alana, Bebe, Mystir, and Tyrulf. Brambles stayed close to Bebe, frequently looking at her with a questioning expression on her features. There was still no sign of Lucian. Finally, Febriwyn had climbed up to the top of the rock formation above the caves, seeking the highest vantage point he could. From there he could see more, perhaps use some missile or spell, and if necessary, quickly repel down the side on the rope he had set there for that purpose.

The roguish elf looked around, scanning the horizon for signs of movement. The lake stretched into the night to the south and all could hear the waves lapping at the shore, driven by a moderate wind.

Above them all, Scepter was a growing sliver of silver and would be one quarter full two nights hence. Pholar, on the other hand, was nearly full and would be on the morrow, its light casting a silvery glaze across the landscape, making things stand out to elven eyes quite handily. But no movement could be detected.

The night grew darker and the wind increased, the terrible waiting gnawing at everyone. Eyes were pealed, each new or strange sound quickly commanding immediate attention until its source was discerned and dismissed as nothing. Brambles whined at Pholar.

"Shhhhhhhhh," Bebe told her, but the she wolf whined again, her eerie call into the night ringing out. When she howled a third time, Bebe was getting upset and was thinking of a way to stop her, but suddenly her howl ceased mid call, the wolf's neck suddenly craning around and looking toward Sefarlain - or rather, somewhat to the right of him.

Sef had been momentarily distracted by the wolf, but when he turned to look westward he saw the shadowing figure appear some fifty feet or so away. It stood there, almost majestically, looking at him with a well-remembered malicious grin on its long, horsy face, a pair of short fangs jutting downwards from its upper jaw. Its hooves were ablaze and the ranger could see the beast did not stand upon the sandy beach, but hovered just above it.

"Phlblblblbblbb," it snorted wildly.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Engaged.

The black beast eerily hovered there, just inches above the sand, its metal shod flaming hooves setting small twigs, leaves, and bits of splintered driftwood ablaze as it trod over them while slowly approaching Sefarlain. Puffs of smoke rose and quickly died with each step, a tiny death knell for each piece of debris that littered the beach and unfortunately lay along the nightmare's path.

Then the nightmare halted just shy of 50 feet from Sef's palisade and appeared to cautiously look over the beach's defenses. It seemed . . . wary. The palisades seemed to confuse it.

Mystir, too, was as distant as Sef, but he waited to see what would happen next, daring not to draw the beast's attention too soon and bring it down on his virtually defenseless position. Besides, it was out of his range for the Ray of Frost spell he wanted to cast, and he hoped to keep his longer range Magic Missile spell in reserve a while longer. It was within sling range, but Mystir felt that would be desperate just then. Frustrated, Mystir cast Detect Magic. If he couldn't attack it yet, he could damn well look at it. The thing definitely held a magical aura about its whole body.

Sef drew his bow and nocked an arrow, taking careful aim. Seconds passed.

Afyanna, heavy crossbow in both hands, walked forward toward the nightmare, coming up from behind Sef's position. It was in range, but she half suspected she'd only get one free shot with that thing since it took so long to reload. She spit on the crossbow bolt, hoping to impart some minor blessing on the projectile, and then the holy warrior's finger rested on the trigger, just starting to squeeze it, waiting for Sef's move.

Tyrulf muttered his Light spell, casting it upon a small stone he had found for that purpose, concealing the light within a dark pouch he carried. The spell's illumination would last 10 minutes, he knew, and now that the nightmare was there, it was time to cast it. It might prove, he thought, a useful distraction later on. The dwarf also began to move forward, battleaxe now in hand, having snatched it up from where it rested after his spell was cast.

Cosher silently cursed to himself, the slightly buried 50 foot stretch of rope he had hope to use to trip the creature up had half counted on it appearing from the other direction, from town. It had come from the opposite end of the beach and the sea dwarf wondered why things never worked out like he planned them to. Irritated, he abandoned the rope and moved toward the beastie, Sliobhann in hand.

Bebe considered casting a Resistance spell on Brambles and sending her into battle, but at the last moment she decided not to do that yet. Instead, she began casting Summon Nature's Ally and concentrated upon the form of a dog. Her incantations mingled with Tyrulf's, the sound of spellcasting raising the tension level of all around, and then a dog appeared.

"Attack!" Bebe commanded the canine ally, pointing at the nightmare. The spell would not last long, of course, so she had to act quickly. The pup burst into a fast run and closed the distance in short order, barking madly, as if its master's enemy was its most hated own. Brambles stared after it, thinking to follow it, but looking back at her gnomish mistress, she held her ground and waited.

Febriwyn had the best view, but he chose to look around for something else, sparing scant seconds to scan the horizon for other movement, seeking the nightmare's controller, if such a person was there. He could see no one. Disappointed, he scampered across the rocky would-be escarpment and, having reached the edge, took aim with the borrowed light crossbow.

Alana was angry, the fury boiling within her soul, and the years of monastic self-control threatened to melt away now that see saw the murderous monster that had ended the Lovejoy's lives. She advanced, ready to draw back if need be, but she wanted to get closer. She needed to get closer. She was damn well going to get closer.

Then it all began in earnest and was quite difficult to follow, the townsfolk would later say.

First, Sef let loose his arrow. A clean miss, the disappointment ate at him, deflating any hopes for an easy victory in one shot.

Afy gave the trigger a final squeeze and felt the incredible pent up power release. It hit the creature, but glanced off.

*That thing's black hide must be tough as plate armor,* she concluded. Even so, crossbows could penetrate armor with a more direct hit, and had done so before. She desperately began to crank the weapon's drawstring back to prepare for another shot, hoping to her lord she'd have enough time.

Wyn's shot also raced down, another glancing miss. They could hit it, apparently, but its hide was unnaturally tough.

Having reached it, the yapping dog snapped at the hell horse, but one couldn't clearly see if it did any good. As it darted back in for another nip, a flaming hoof caught it in its middle and effortlessly kicked the very life out of it with one movement. There was only half a yip, then nothing but silence as the form rolled along the beach and came to a dead stop, a thin trail of smoke rising upwards from its corpse. Then it disappeared. Bebe shuddered, horrified at the thought that might just as easily have been Brambles.

The pup's death seemed to delight the nightmare, and it snorted a cloud of thick smoke that belched forth some 15 feet, though its sulfurous smell carried much further.

Then, as if it were done judging the opposition as harmless, it playfully danced sideways out over the water. Sef wondered why as he nocked another arrow, but then concluded it would have a better run at the palisades from the water since the spikes were not pointing in that direction.

Sef's second arrow missed, lost somewhere out in the black lake. Afy cranked the crossbow back and loaded it. Wyn fired again, doing no better than before. It began to look hopeless.

Mystir continued to stare at the nightmare, keeping it within range of his enhanced vision, discerning new levels of details the longer he looked at it. Its hooves held an aura all their own, though their magic was less than the overall creature's dweomer, which was considerably stronger. He suddenly realized he stood pretty close to Sef's palisade and had been unconsciously walking forward to keep the creature in sight.

Wyn cursed, the beast having moved out of his effective range. If he were to hit it, it would be dumb luck at that distance, and his bolts were limited in number, so he waited.

Finally, the nightmare charged straight at Sef. The palisade would do no good, but he might set the spear, with luck. He fired one more arrow and tossed down his bow, drawing Alonwë in one hand and the spear in the other. The fact the beast screamed as the arrow hit him was almost lost in the confusion.

Wyn also fired as the hell horse closed near Sef's palisade, scoring his third clear miss. Afy let loose her second shot and was delighted to see the beast wince in pain. She couldn't be sure, but it looked like the bolt buried itself in the horse's chest. Terrifyingly, it still came at them without so much as slowing down.

Mystir retreated, but cast while doing so, his Ray of Frost emanating forth from his outstretched digit. Hitting the thing seemed easy enough for most, but penetrating its thick hide seemed nigh impossible. Thankfully, that spell didn't require actual penetration. A bluish splash of light fanned out in a circular pattern against the nightmare's chest and neck, and it shrieked in surprise, but its momentum would not allow it time for pain. It charged on.

At the last instant, Sef set the pike to take the charge, trying desperately to guide it home. It hit, but simply snapped in two as the creature plowed into the ranger, hitting him with tremendous force and throwing him back with a flip of its fanged muzzle. Much like the dog, the ranger lay still, motionless in the sand.

Tyrulf and Cosher, having advanced, fell upon the beast with vicious chops of axe and sword. The dwarven axe bit into the beast, but Sliobhann merely slid along its armor-like hide.

Suddenly, a couple of gallons of cool, pure water rained down on the hell horse, its flame sizzling for a moment, though they regained their earlier strength seconds later. Alana's Create Water spell above the beast seemed to have no appreciable lasting effect, though the beast did appear angrier than before.

The nightmare whirled and turned on Tyrulf, glaring at the axe that bit it, then reared up with both hooves before coming down hard on the dwarf. A single hoof hit a glancing blow to the dwarf's head, the other hoof missing by a fraction of an inch, and Tyrulf was sent reeling back, his beard heavily singed and smoking from the flaming hoof. He felt near death, the pain was beyond description, but he found he could still think. He was still conscious and breathing hard, trying to regain his footing. Ty looked over to Sef but couldn't say as much for his friend who had still not moved.

Leaping upwards and back, further than ever before, no longer running just above the ground but now, for the first time, actually flying, the nightmare rose backwards. For but a second it stood there, looking down on the party, assessing the situation. It was wounded. They were wounded. A few lucky shots might tell the tale. But not today, thank you.

The nightmare turned midair and began galloping at incredible speed away and across the sky. Bebe chucked her scented grenade at it just as it turned to leave, the liquid shower spraying a mist of droplets in the creature's direction.

As the nightmare flew off, higher and higher still, Mystir cast one more spell, a Magic Missile, praying it was still within range. A small, marble sized ball of red energy streaked forth and clipped the nightmare, its scream a joyous report of the wizard's success. The creature wavered slightly, but regained its even climb upwards. Then it began to flicker, in and out, there and gone, and in a final flash, it could no longer be seen.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Aftermath.

Tyrulf shook his head as he got up. Brandishing his axe toward the sky, he shouted, "NEXT TIME YOU DIE, FOUL CREATURE!"

Feeling a grim satisfaction over the nightmare's hasty retreat, Tyrulf turned towards Sef. Realizing that he may not live if he worried about his own wound first, Tyrulf dropped his axe on the beach, which was not normally something he would do, but almost getting killed by a horse wasn't really normal either.

Dragging himself over to Sef, he knelt down to find out if there was still life in the ranger's body.

*Just barely alive. It is fortunate that I was this close,* he thought.

Just before he started his incantation, Tyrulf turned to the others and shouted, "HE LIVES!" making sure everyone could hear.

The look of relief on the faces of the nearby members was easily seen, but the grim realization that the scene would have to be played out again slowed their jubilation. Shaking his own dizziness away, Tyrulf started the incantation of a Cure Light Wounds spell. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the blood stop flowing from the open wound and it begin to mend. Unfortunately, this time the spell did not do as much as Ty had hoped, even if it was enough to wake Sef up.

"Ugh, what happened?" Sef asked weakly.

"We have to get him inside. Cosher, help me support him. Mystir, could you grab my axe and Sef's sword? That thing may attack again. It is cunning and may try to get one more attack while we are distracted," he cautioned them all.

Cosher, Tyrulf, and Sefarlain all managed to stagger back to the first cave before collapsing on the sand strewn floor. Taking a minute to catch his breath, Ty began another spell.

The next incantation of the Cure Light Wounds spell made Ty feel stronger. He could feel the wound on his head close up and the slight dizziness he felt disappeared altogether.

*Well, at least I still have a couple of Cure Minor Wounds left if my last Cure Light Wounds is not enough to heal Sef,* he figured. Feeling stronger, he stood up and motioned to Cosher.

"Go on Cosh, I am feeling much better now," he told the sea dwarf, who had been waiting to return to the beach.

A few seconds later, Ty reexamined Sef's remaining wound, and he noticed that his initial assessment was correct; the wound had not healed as much as he had hoped.

Casting his last spell, Tyrulf could feel the power of the spell coursing through him with more strength. He could sense the bones mending themselves as they were imbued with divine healing. Another smile crossed Ty's face.

*The power of magic will always amaze me. Even if it is unpredictable at times,* he reminded himself.

Looking down, he saw that Sef's outer wound had nearly disappeared, and not even a scar remained. Only a thin pink bruise, and he knew from experience that would quickly fade in the next day or two.

"Sef, are you feeling all right?"

"Yes, thank you, Tyrulf. I owe you my life," Sef replied. It was plain to Ty's eyes that Sef seemed ashamed at having lost to the beast again.

Tyrulf shook his head. "Sef, you owe me nothing. We all use our talents to further the group's goals."

Tyrulf reached down and patted Sef on the shoulder. "Do not worry my friend. This foul beast will not survive another fight with us, and I am sure Alonwë will be its undoing."

The comforting words that Tyrulf said made little difference. Sef seemed to be hanging his head in shame.

*Two times he faced this powerful beast, and both times he does not defeat it. I am sure he feels like he failed even if he does not deserve to.*

"Well Afyanna, what do you suggest we do now?" he asked the quest leader.

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: What Now?

Cosher had struggled under the weight of Sefarlain and Tyrulf since he needed to help support them both as they crossed the beach, each of his wounded companions with an arm draped over the sea dwarf's shoulders. Tyrulf had been trying to help, but he was in almost as bad a state as the elf, and was proving not much help at all. Thankfully, Ty had partially healed the elven ranger, and with Cosher's assistance all managed to stagger across the beach into the first cave where Cosh eased them down to sitting positions.

The young dwarf felt destroyed. He'd been in scrapes before and Sliobhann had never let him down in the past, so the events of just a few moments ago hit his confidence particularly hard. The way his blade slid across the nightmare's flesh was unreal, like it might glide across smooth stone. It unnerved him.

The fact that two of his companions had been left close to death, and that he had escaped unscathed, added to his misery. He had been there, side-by-side with Tyrulf and toe-to-toe - or toe-to-hoof perhaps? - with the beastie, yet Tyrulf was the one who almost got killed. Not Cosher.

"Curse me useless bones," he softly grumbled, allowing himself full blame for not hurting the nightmare. He was still confident in the qualities of Sliobhann as a weapon, though he questioned his own sword arm, yet he vowed to put these wrongs right and avenge himself on the nightmare.

Confident in Tyrulf's healing magic to mend his injured companions, Cosher turned and made his way back onto the beach, seeking Afy and the others immediately, wishing to formulate a new plan, while yet wary that the beast might return any minute.

"WE MUST BE READY!" Cosher shouted at Afyanna as she approached the cave. "The beastie might return any minute! Ah'm jus' goin' tae retrieve me rope an' me laibh. Maybe there's something we can do with the rope, like lasso the damn fiend or somethin? If ye think it's a good idea, maybe Ah could try?"

With that, he set off along the beach, back to where his rope lay buried.

- Johnny (Cosher)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe On Guard

Bebe had stared after the flaming beast until it disappeared. In disgust she said, "If we could only clip its wings and make it stand for a fair fight, the beast would be a smoldering mass of horse manure."

Bebe concentrated on the position of the stars, moons, and the surrounding terrain, using her natural sense to try to keep track of the direction of the nightmare's lair.

*I don't know if the scent potion worked or not, but if it did, I want Brambles to have the best chance possible of picking up the trail. I wonder if it even lives on the ground?* she thought as an afterthought.

Upon hearing that everyone was going to be okay, Bebe climbed up onto the large rock outside the cave entrance with Brambles and sighed deeply. "Well Brambles," she said, "I guess my meager spell-work had little effect on the nasty horsy. I only hope the poor hound distracted the beast long enough to save one of our companions. I mustn't dwell on it too long. At least you're still with me."

While rubbing Brambles' scruff, Bebe set herself into the best position to keep the area under close scrutiny, figuring that she might as well take the first watch while the others licked their wounds. She was kind of hoping for the beast to return to be finished off like a proper competitor.

"I guess the real world doesn't play by the rules, does it Brambles?" she sighed. "Tomorrow will be our turn to hunt."

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Little Has Changed.

Afyanna sat near the cave entrance for several minutes, watching for any sign of the beast's return. Bebe sat nearby, doing much the same, so Afy let her focus waver and began to consider their situation.

*Nothing much has changed,* she realized. *The townspeople are still starving, the nightmare is still alive, and the Holy Day is still two days off.*

Afyanna sighed deeply. *Time is of the essence. We must kill this thing soon.*

The halfelf looked at the night's sky and the stars. *Still half the night left,* she concluded. *But we are hurt and our magic is depleted.*

*If Bebe's 'perfume' worked and we could discover its lair, we could send the townspeople ahead.*

Afy edged over to where the gnome sat with Brambles.

"Bebe?"

Two sets of eyes turned in her direction.

"It looked to me like your tracking scent hit the beast," Afyanna said.

"Thank goodness for that!" replied Bebe. "Maybe we can track it tomorrow."

Afyanna hesitated a moment before answering, visions of a smoking - thankfully summoned - puppy flashed in her mind. "Actually, I was hoping Brambles could track it tonight."

The look on the gnome's face told her that she, too, hadn't shaken that sight.

"I do not mean for us or Brambles to attack it," Afy added quickly. "Just that she find it."

Afyanna knew that Bebe wanted the creature dead just as much as the rest of them. Risking her own life was one thing, but asking Brambles to go out alone was another.

"If we knew where its lair was, we could get close during the day tomorrow and attack while IT sleeps," Afyanna said. "We might even be able to lay a trap for it, and spring it on the beast when it came out for the night. That would allow the townspeople to leave tomorrow for safety."

Afy continued, "And if this unnatural thing has no lair, it would be better to know that tonight instead of wasting our time tomorrow trying to find it."

Bebe was hugging the wolf closer as they spoke, unconsciously showing her reluctance.

"Only Brambles has the speed and stealth to find it tonight," Afyanna said. "Can she find it?"

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Tracking The Beast.

Bebe considered Afyanna's words carefully before answering. "I doubt if Brambles could find the trail without my help. Sure, I could send her hunting the horsy, and after a couple days of roaming around she may find the lair, but she would just as likely attack the horsy on sight as come back to us."

Afyanna's shoulders sagged in disappointment when the realization of their plight began to set in.

Bebe thought on the subject some more and then continued, "You see, Afy, it takes a little more intelligence to seek out something, then come back and then lead us to it. And, although Brambles is smart in her own right, she still is just an animal that I have taught a few useful tricks."

Brambles, sensing that the conversation was about her, rolled over on her back and tried to coax the gnome into rubbing her belly. Bebe smiled and buried her hands in the thick fur.

"I have been on hunts with my uncles and you would be amazed at the things hounds will do, but in the end, success is measured by the amount of training the animal has and the intelligence of the handler to direct the animal," Bebe lectured on, thankful for the conversation to keep her mind off of the death of Jahar. "No, in the end, I would have to be with her if she had a chance to lead us to its lair. Anyway, it is sort of a horse. Maybe it doesn't even live in a cave or stable. Perhaps it just grazes in some desolate meadow, never staying in one place too long before searching out another. We just don't know."

Bebe sighed as she absently rubbed the wolf's belly. "Who knows? It may even eat buttercups. We're just assuming that it has one place to go rest. Also, don't forget Alana's story about the attack during the day. Just because the hellion is rampaging at night, doesn't mean that daylight will make it any less dangerous. I think we have two courses of action. One: we all go together and hunt the beast down, hoping we can surprise it. Or two: stay here on the beach for another night in the hope that it returns, knowing that it will probably be a lot more wary, and thusly, a lot more dangerous."

"Personally, I'm for hunting it down. We won't know if we hit it with the scent bomb or not until we start out, and frankly, I am too tired from today's exertions to try chasing it down much before breakfast in the morning," Bebe said while stretching her arms and yawning. She then continued, "I have a pretty good idea which direction it went. Cosher is pretty good with people. Maybe he could ask them about any caves, stables, ruins or secluded meadows in that direction. It seemed to come from and retreat to the same direction."

Bebe gave Afyanna a wiry grin. "I would ask them myself, but I already have one foot stuck in my mouth, and I couldn't very well walk with the other one in there with it."

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Facing The Truth.

Afyanna understood what Bebe said, but winced at the gnome's mention of breakfast.

"I see what you mean, and I thank you for clearing that up for me. It is unfortunate, I suppose, but it is the way of things."

Bebe started to say something, but Afy continued. "Though I don't think it would be wise to mention food right now."

The diminutive druid's face wrinkled up as she tried to understand Afy's words.

"These people have no food," Afyanna said. "And haven't had anything substantial for days."

The holy warrior stood suddenly and faced Bebe. "I, too, would rather wait and plan and attack on our terms," she said, stabbing her fingers to her breastplate. "But these people are out of time!"

Afy knew deep down that Bebe understood all too well what they were facing, and had probably chosen her words as a way of marking the morning more than wanting food. But that didn't make the situation any easier.

The halfelf lessened her tone since there was no reason to take her frustrations out on anyone else. "We need that creature dead, or at least get the people to safety."

"Can't we just escort them to town?" Bebe asked.

Afyanna stopped her pacing a moment and cocked her head. "Yes . . . that may be our - and their - only option."

Bebe shrugged. "Horton did say that they were considering that as we arrived anyway. At least this way they might have some protection."

"If we can get close to Hooktar," Afy thought out loud, "then maybe their guard can help. We don't have to escort them to the town square."

Bebe sat petting Brambles and listening to the rambling thoughts of the kin-der.

"The creature is hurt and is probably in hiding. If we started now, we just might make Hooktar by nightfall. And if we could send someone ahead to have the city guard meet us - all the better."

Afyanna paused a moment to rub her eyes before continuing. "I don't think the sheriff would be happy to see us again. No doubt we WOULD this time lure the nightmare into town."

The holy warrior resumed her pacing. "And it would be a hard march. If we leave in the morning, it will be well after dark when we arrive in Hooktar. If we leave now, while the creature is hurt, we just might make it during the day. And that assumes a good pace, which I doubt many of these people can maintain."

Afy snapped her eyes wide, as if seeing for the first time in several minutes. She saw Bebe and Brambles still sitting there on the rock watching her.

"This is not my decision to make," Afyanna said to the pair.

She stood in front of the cave a moment as if to prepare herself. Then the holy warrior purposefully strode inside to find Horton and to seek his council.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: The People's Gambit.

As soon as Afy approached the second cave's entrance, she could overhear a loud but whispered argument. Horton's voice was recognized, though the others were not. Surreptitiously, Afy decided to eavesdrop just outside to learn what the heated exchange was about.

"It's too risky," a man said. "We'll never make it. You are asking too much of us. And of them," he added.

"It may be out best chance, you fool," Horton replied. "We are out of food and are only getting weaker by the hour. And we all know that, that . . . thing is hate driven. And it's centered on our town for who knows what ungodly reason? But we can finally use that to our advantage, for once! If the travelers stayed and made their presence in town obvious, the hell horse would be infuriated at any who would openly defy it like that. You've seen how it goes mad and attacks anyone out in the open inside the town. It's like it's a, a . . . a priority for that thing. And besides, they just kicked its ass!" he added.

"I didn't see that. It gave better than it got," the man chided Horton's analysis. "It's evil, sure as shit, but it's wily. It's no dumb brute, so it chose to fight another day. And next time it'll know more about what it's up against."

"Exactly!" Horton raised his voice. "To fight 'another' day. Not 'this' day. It's hurt, however badly or however minor it may be. It won't be back until tomorrow night, if experience has taught us anything. It'll be unscathed again by then, damn it to hell, for it seems to take the day to recuperate when it's hurt. If most of us high tail it out of here right now, and if we leave the travelers behind, we might get to Hooktar or Merlot before it'll bother to look for us. We could be safe inside those other towns by then, and have food."

"Safe?" the man asked incredulously. "You mean because it'll stay and murder the strangers instead of us, don't you? You'd use them as bait, as a distraction? You'd sacrifice all their lives like that?"

"Me? No. She's the Holy Warrior of Wrath reborn. Risk and sacrifice are bread and water to her, and her friends are probably no different. They know what they're doing better than we do, probably. You saw them use the magicks. You saw them stand and fight and not run away against that evil. They'd welcome the chance to stand and fight tomorrow night. They came here to fight it, after all. Didn't they? Do you think them lowly cowards who would cut and run now? We aren't using them. No, not at all. If anything, we are in their way here. We'd be helping them by relieving them of our burdensome presence," Horton explained.

"Uh huh, and you're going to explain that to them, are you? And what about the wine? Are you going to explain that, too?" a second man asked.

"What does that have to do with escaping? They don't need to know about the wine. It has nothing to do with the nightmare. Nothing!" Horton hissed. "But yeah, I'll tell them our plan and our hopes. I'm sure slayers such as they would understand and agree. Weak as we are, though, it'll take two days to get to Hooktar and not just one. Yes, Hooktar is better than Merlot. Hooktar has soldiers. But the slayers will have to defy it and live for two days. Then we'll be safe."

"No one can stand against that beast for two days and live. You'd be sacrificing them needlessly the first night, and then we'd be out in the open with no protection. We'll be killed. Unless maybe they send two or three slayers with us for protection."

"Absolutely not," insisted Horton. "If we weaken their numbers here, then it will be a slaughter and it'll come after us double quick for sure. It's our town, and for whatever reason, it's our problem. If we must accept some risk, as leader, I say we should accept it with grace. Besides, the risk seems minimal. Even if they fail tomorrow night, do you honestly think it'll emerge unscathed? No. It'll be wounded again. That's a whole other day for us before it'll come looking, and by then we'll be safe."

"It's still a risk," said the first man.

"And the wine?" the second man asked.

"Andrew and I will remain behind. The rest of you should make haste with Larethian's blessing. He has sent His warrior to us. If she agrees, what more could you possibly ask for beyond that?" Horton demanded.

There was a long pause then, and then the first man said, "As long as you explain it all to them and they agree, then I guess it's ok."

"Except about the wine," the second man said. "You know our livelihood depends on keeping the secret?" he asked Horton.

"Who better than I?" Horton replied, and Afy could hear the tone of obvious knowledge shared between them flowing in that sentence, though Afy did not share in it, whatever it was.

And it occurred to Afyanna, if she were to openly ask them about something so secret, she didn't know how the townsfolk would react. Maybe quite badly.

"Let's go ask her," Horton said.

"I'm coming with you," the first man told Horton.

Afyanna quickly drew back, retracing her steps. As Horton and probably the owner of the first man's voice emerged, Afy strode up to them, retracing and thus covering her recent tracks in case any were so clever as to examine the sandy soil in the dark. The holy warrior appeared to have arrived just as Horton came out of the second cave.

"Ah, Afyanna. We have decided upon a grave course of action, and we hope you'll agree."

Horton spent the next few minutes explaining the plan of how all but Andrew and he would immediately depart for Hooktar, while the strangers remained. He claimed it was 'their' best shot, given the food, or lack, thereof, and the strong probability the horse would ignore them in lieu of a more openly defiant target, the party. He sort of glossed over the part about how they'd get two days' travel even if her comrades died.

Pretty much everything was explained exactly as Afy had overheard it, and the other man nodded from time to time and seemed satisfied she was being told all she 'needed' to know. There was no mention of the wine, however, but this did not surprise the holy warrior.

"So, Holy Warrior of Corellon Larethian, do you accept our plan?" Horton asked her. "You must decide immediately in order to give my people the most time possible and the best fighting chance at survival. What do you say?" he asked her.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Mission Accepted.

"Actually, Horton," Afyanna said, once the two men took a breath from their explanation, "I was just on my way in to seek your council on much the same thing."

"Oh?" asked Horton.

Afyanna stood in the dim light coming from the cave, watching the two men as she spoke. She stood comfortably, her right hand on her hip and left on her sword pommel. Where before she might have just laid out her intentions, now she carefully gauged each of their expressions.

*What other secrets are you hiding here?* she wondered, but she did not openly ask them.

"For all the same reasons you give, I was going to propose you all leave immediately as well," Afy said. "The only real difference being that we would escort you."

The second man moved to speak, but Horton held out his arm, barring his path. Horton spoke instead.

"Surely you don't think you few can keep that beast off everyone?" he said. "The train to Hooktar will be a long one - you cannot possibly protect us all."

"I understand that, sir," the halfelf replied. "That is why I needed to confer with you first."

No one spoke for a few moments while the holy warrior considered their proposition. Finally she spoke.

"Has the nightmare ever come back after it has been wounded?"

"Unfortunately the only times I have seen it hurt was when the brothers fought it and when part of a wall fell on it," Horton replied. "But no, it did not return on those same nights. This, however, is the first time I've seen it, umm, take flight, literally and figuratively."

Afyanna tapped her lip a few times thinking. "Hmm, then perhaps there is time. While I do not relish the idea of leaving your people unprotected, your plan does indeed seem to offer the best chance of saving the most."

"Come," Horton said, turning to the other man, "let us get everyone up. We haven't a minute to spare."

Before they could depart, Afy had one more thing to say. "I suppose even if we fail, we'll keep the creature occupied for one more night."

The other man flicked a glance to the town spokesman.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: A Slow Recovery

Sefarlain rested his head back against the cool wall of the cave and let out a long, soft sigh. He rubbed his fingers thoughtfully over his chest, tracing the outline of the dent imprinted in his armor. One of the studs had been driven into the leather by the force of the impact, he noted, but otherwise it seemed in pretty good shape, which was more than could be said of the ranger.

Sefarlain shook his head slightly. What had happened out there? He could remember the nightmare approaching and its animal intelligence sensing something was amiss, the beast going out over the water, and then its charge. After then, he could only recall the beast's eyes, flames, and that smell of sulfur just before he was thrown back into blackness.

Sefarlain paled at the thought of that blow. The sickening crunch of the impact with the nightmare and the shock of the force running through his body still remained with him, even if the physical damage had disappeared. The blow had been so quick, he couldn't even remember any pain before losing consciousness. And as to how he got to the cave, well that all seemed a bit of a blur.

He looked into the sand and saw traces of blood leading to where he had fallen. He had been very badly hurt, more so than at any time in his long life. Even Lefty hadn't hurt him that badly.

*Tyrulf really did save my life,* he pondered. The full impact of how close to death he had come had not yet been realized, but he still knew his debt to the dwarf.

*I must find the others. They still may need my help.*

He got carefully to his feet, surprised at how free of pain he felt. Magical healing obviously had more advantages than just speed. Apart from a dull ache in his chest, Sefarlain felt unaffected by his ordeal and he was able to walk out of the cave at his normal pace. He picked up Alonwë on his way out as she lay on the sand and cleaned her blade from the grains that had collected on the curving edge.

Outside the cave he met Alana, who was walking back from the beach. By her manner, Sef guessed that the fight was finished, at least for the moment. She seemed surprised and delighted that the elf looked back to full health.

"I thought you'd been killed by that 'thing'. You didn't move for a very long time afterwards, anyway."

"I'm afraid I can't remember very much after being charged either." Sefarlain looked around the empty beach. "Where is everyone? Did we kill the nightmare?"

Alana explained the rest of the short fight after Sefarlain had been struck. She even described how he had managed to lance the beast, and though he squarely hit its chest, how the lance had simply broken. No one could be held accountable for the unnatural toughness to that thing's hide. There was no blame.

"You didn't really miss much," she added as an afterthought. "It was over so quickly."

The ranger was not so sure. He had come closer to death than he cared to think, and their opponent had just skipped off when things looked less than favorable. His mind filled with anger and resentment for a brief moment, but cooled as Sefarlain realized what they were all up against.

"I think we had all better talk with Afyanna," he muttered somewhat gruffly. "Do you know where she is, Alana?"

"I think she went off to talk to Horton. I'll come with you, if you like."

The elf nodded and the two set off to find the holy warrior and hopefully some answers.

- Justin (Sefarlain)