PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 026

PBEM Orlantia: Animal Companionship.

The group squinted slightly as they returned to the brightness of the sun's light and made their way back to the boulders. Many of them were not yet used to significant time underground, and Sefarlain, for one, was pleased to be out in the open air once again. Although the temple had been clean, he had found the darkness inside quite oppressive at times.

*Well, I'm just going to have to get used to it,* he thought. He, for one, knew that the group would return to the temple again.

Brambles had been waiting patiently for the group to return, and looked particularly overjoyed to see Bebe. She bounded up to the gnome and covered her with playful licks and the occasional nip at her legs. Sef smiled at the sight; he had missed the wolf's company alongside them more than he had noticed.

Most rangers had animal companions of one sort or another, but the Valantaúr were unusual in that few of their ranks formed such bonds. There were notable exceptions of course; the head of the order in Peric had a particular fondness for lizards, he recalled; but the majority of the order spent so much of their time traveling through their homeland or to other islands that having a permanent companion could be difficult. Looking after a wolf when stationed in Alderami would be 'difficult' at best. Instead, most of the Valantaúr formed less fixed associations with the animals in their territory, each coming and going as desired.

Having traveled for some time with Brambles, Sef had been thinking long and hard about this. He had enjoyed the companionship more than he had expected; perhaps an animal could accompany him on his travels as well? But if so, what animal would chose him? And what would his captain think if he returned to Tugath with a huge beast as a companion?

*Somehow I don't think a life in the woods would suit Brambles,* he mused.

He remembered his uncle talking about his magical studies and how some arcane masters took a cat or bird as a companion. Maybe he should speak to his uncle again when, or if, he ever returned to Peric. The mountainside home where he had spent the last year with his uncle seemed a long way off at the moment.

*A cat like Lucian might like the woods a bit too much,* he noted, * but a bird would be a lot freer to move around in the woods in the day.* He paused and then sighed. *No, that wouldn't work. One of the junior recruits had tried taking a hawk once, and all it did was squawk all night.*

But maybe there were other birds better suited to a life in the woods, day and night. They would have to be quiet, though. Maybe he would ask his uncle, after all. But first, there was the small matter of a nightmare to attend to.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: The Trek Back.

Afyanna wrapped journal in some cloth and stowed it securely in her pack. There was no time to study the item just then since, she knew, once she started she wouldn't want to stop.

She finished fastening the straps of her pack and stood up.

"I don't know why the scent lead us here, but the beast does not seem to be around." Afyanna's mouth twisted in thought a moment and she added, "unless it did come back here, but blinks out to heal. In which case, when it returns, it would probably just blink back in without warning."

She noted more than one furtive glance about as the party looked again into areas they had previously thought secure.

"In any event, since we do not know for sure, then we must get back to Joad. The nightmare habitually returns to the town, and I want to be certain we are there to greet it."

Afyanna took another long look around the temple. Even in its current state, it was a place of beauty.

"We will be returning here," she said. "Make no mistake about it."

The party gathered their things and set off back along the path cut through the thorns. Afyanna didn't see Brambles, but she knew to expect the wolf. She only hoped the first thing she heard charging through the underbrush at them was, in fact, Bebe's companion.

As they drew farther away from the temple site, Andrew could be seen looking at the entrance . . . or where he knew the entrance to be. The place had been right under his nose his whole life, and yet he had never seen it.

The sun was getting lower on the horizon, but there was plenty of time to reach Joad before nightfall. Valin, it seemed, had indeed returned earlier, for he was not outside when they emerged from the temple.

*At least someone follows directions,* Afyanna thought.

What Febriwyn had done in the temple was practically unfathomable to the holy warrior. When a decision is made, or orders given - you follow it. If you have reservations - you bring them up. But under no circumstances do you go off and do something completely contrary. Had this been the cavalry, there would be serious consequences.

*But this is not the Marching Alderami, though, is it?*

Whether she had chosen to be the leader or not, the fact remained that in the eyes of most of the party, she was just that - at least for the time being. So it was up to her to resolve this.

As they walked, Afy edged closer to the elven rogue. Febriwyn seemed more annoyed at her proximity to him than the prospects of listening to the impending questions she'd probably ask. The rest of the party seemed to know as well. Idle chatter subsided and the others moved a little farther away from the pair.

"Wyn," Afyanna began, "this is not a formal organization. I have no direct authority."

The rogue regarded her with his customary silence.

"Everyone here is free to leave at any time." Afyanna let that sit for a moment before continuing. "Only a few have really pledged to help me. The rest, as with you, joined for your own reasons."

"You, especially, seem to prefer to remain solitary," Afy added.

Febriwyn's face gave no hint to his thoughts, but his reaction to the statement said much.

"I certainly have no issue with that. I have worked with more than a few rogues while in service to the militia. They, too, enjoyed their solitude." Afy considered well before making her next statement. "But they knew when to work together, too."

He continued looking ahead as they walked, but Afy thought she noticed a hardening of his features.

She was not actually in charge of anything, so she chose her words carefully. "I would . . . appreciate it if you did not go contrary to the plans any of us come up with without at least discussing your reservations first."

"My reasons are my own," the rogue said flatly.

*Well, at least he said something,* Afyanna thought. "Obviously," she said aloud.

"We did not know what lay hidden behind those doors," Wyn said. "There could have been a weapon, or there could have been ambushers."

"True," Afy said. "But with no tracks to the contrary, Brambles leading us to the entrance based on the scent Bebe tossed, and the single hall in the temple where a beast that big could hide, my concern was more that the nightmare was in the darkened, unexplored room."

"And by going off on your own," she continued, "you split the party across the temple AND opened them to whatever was behind those doors. If there were ambushers inside and the nightmare attacked, then we would have faced two fronts."

"By exploring just the large passage," Afyanna said, "we would have only faced the nightmare - had it been there. If there were ambushers, then they might have heard the commotion and might have joined in.

"But what you did took the 'possibility' out of it and made it certain that anything behind those doors would attack."

Afyanna could see Febriwyn's hands tighten on his weapon, but he said nothing.

"I know I am not always right," Afy said. "I made a bad call with the secret door. I know that. But somebody has to make the major decisions in the party, and for better or for worse, right now that's me. If you want the job when this is over - you can have it."

"In the mean time, when the decisions do get made - and barring any better ideas from others - the expectation is that they get carried out."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: A Quick Reading.

A large fire was burning several yards away from the tree line where Afyanna had chosen to make their stand. Valin was piling more timber onto it as they approached after returning from Moonstone Temple. It was less than two hours before nightfall.

"I figured we should make sure the beast sees us," Valin explained, before anyone had a chance to ask him what he was doing. "I take it it's still coming?" he asked.

Afyanna nodded, indicating they had not yet dealt with the beast since Valin had left.

"There's not much else to do," Valin said, "but wait until night then. When the nightmare sees this fire, it'll come and we must wound it, if not kill it. Otherwise it might seek out the townsfolk heading to Hooktar and finish them off before they can reach safety," the cleric of Hermes reminded everyone of the plan.

Afyanna glanced at the sky and could see Scepter's limb, a thin, growing silver crescent. On the morrow it would be one quarter full, a holy day for Corellon Larethian, and the statue of the Holy Warrior Of Wrath might finally do something. Then again, it might not. She was making some assumptions about it, she knew.

Standing before the fire, all eyes turned toward her, she said, "Then everybody get ready to fight the nightmare as well as you can and however you think best. Let everyone else know what your plans are and where you'll be situated. At least one of us must wound the hell horse," she told them. "Hopefully, we'll all survive the encounter," she added.

She might have attempted to micromanage the party member's endeavors more, but she really didn't have much more of a plan. Each of them had had years of training in how to best use their gifts, and now was not the time to second-guess them. All that she insisted upon was that they inform each other of their intentions so they wouldn't be tripping into each other when the battle broke out. Proper coordination often made the difference between success and failure.

"I, for one, intend to take the last hours of light and look at the Journal of Anlashok," she informed them all, whereupon she sat down next to Valin's fire and began to read the tome.

The volume was rife with religious symbolism and casual doodles in the margins - obviously by the hand of a priest of Larethian who sat in contemplation of what he was writing - and told a simple tale of Anlashok, a wandering ranger and priest of Corellon Larethian. The opening passages told of the elf's life - or rather, his final quest - to find his family's roots. Apparently a disaster had befallen them, though it did not say what, and Anlashok was orphaned when he was far too young to remember much of anything. His immediate family, however, was lost.

Though the journal didn't go into detail, it did explain why he had come to Joad in his latter years, for he was in search of other relatives. Afy gathered it had been an elven family who had resided in Joad that held part of Anlashok's past, and that's how he happened upon the place. And though he was too late to find his family - for they had moved on nearly 140 years prior to his arrival - what he did find gave him sufficient reasons to stay in Joad off and on for the next fifty years, from about 600 to 650 A.E., according to the journal entries.

Like her own party, Anlashok had stumbled upon a mystery in Joad, but there was absolutely no mention of any nightmare in his tale, so it seemed a different mystery - at least aspects of it. No mention of any nightmare disappointed Afyanna. Still, the tale was informative and interesting enough in other ways.

Amongst other things, the tale spoke of fertility spirits bound to the fields of Wrath through Larethian's blessings. High priests from times past had cast these extraordinary binding spells to ensure Wrath's abundance. The very land itself was thus enchanted. The spirits were difficult to detect, of course, but Anlashok had managed to find them. As long as a temple of Larethian remained, they would endure. This meant there had to be an active temple, though he could not find one at first. Local legend had indicated all three had been destroyed, yet apparently not. At least one of them must have survived.

Years went by while he searched for the temple he knew must still exist, but couldn't find, until one day, the journal said, Joree spoke to him and showed him the way.

Afy frowned at the surprising lack of detail about this event. Each time she thought she found some answers, the journal glossed over the details that she desperately sought. Besides, a lot of it was guesswork by Anlashok, for he, also, was putting together the puzzle long after the fact - it was just that he did it decades before Afyanna had even been born.

Nevertheless, a remarkably similar account to Afyanna's own recent experience followed then about Anlashok's first encounter with the blue-white field within Moonstone Temple. After touching it, Anlashok had a vision.

610 A.E. 'I surmise,' the passage read, 'the holy warrior sacrificed herself upon the altar, providing the last elements of her entrapment spell. Furthermore, within the field, there no doubt lays the awful timber beast sent forth by the drow to destroy the elven temples. I guess it had succeeded in destroying the other two temples, but Moonstone and its holy altar remained, thanks to Joree's sacrifice. The land's irreplaceable enchantments have thus endured.'

There was a blank page then. Afyanna bit her lip, thinking the tale over, but it went on after that page.

614 A.E. 'The soul field could be dispelled easily enough,' Anlashok continued in his journal, 'by any successful Dispel Magic, or if any priest or holy warrior of Larethian touched it with a single drop of their own blood while actively imploring our Lord to release Joree's soul. I could easily do this, myself, but I'm alone and will not risk fighting the Timber by myself. I suspect it's already seriously wounded, thanks to Joree's battle, and time would not pass within the field, so it no doubt has remained so. Nevertheless, it's a fool's errand to fight such an enchanted creature alone. It's even likely it may have proof against any of mundane quarter, so I'm especially loath to make any such attempt alone. I leave this record for the next steward of Moonstone Temple so that they may attend to this problem.' 'Doubtless, my cousin, you will need a few of trust and stature to do this safely. Be well prepared if you undertake this task, and expect the worst. The townsfolk living here now would not be up to the challenge, so the temple must remain hidden even from them, lest they accidentally release the Timber and it complete its unholy mission.' 'In the interim, I fear my plans to reclaim this temple and rededicate it in His name must fall by the wayside for now. However, I must attend to the lands and repair what I can before degradation alone causes the land's spells to fail, or even releases the Timber.'

A blank page was next. There was nothing on that one, either, but more followed.

622 A.E. 'My expedition to the Crystal Mountains proved fruitless. Where the elves of Wrath journeyed after giving up this land, I still cannot discover. Yet I'm convinced they hold the roots of my past. I will not give up my quest to find them. It is the only thing remaining that I desire for myself in the time left to me.'

It was apparent Anlashok was periodically visiting Joad while continuing his search for his family elsewhere. The journal then continued with the more pertinent story.

'I had decided,' the journal went on, 'that Moonstone Temple must remain a secret until the Timber can be destroyed, and a new steward might take up this station. Working in secret is slow going, but I feel it is of utmost importance. The purchased scroll's Illusionary Facade will probably suffice for the temple's continued concealment, but I have spread the heather and planted more trees to add to its protection. This should discourage any who might accidentally stumble upon it.' 'After all my years of secrecy and effort to ensure things remain viable until the next steward comes along, I wonder if it might have been better to have sought out mercenaries and open the field in order to finish the Timber myself, but my personal quest wouldn't allow me to stay here and defend the temple afterwards. Such mercenaries would almost certainly talk, and probably could not be trusted, anyway.' 'Without a priest here, and probably a high priest at that, widespread knowledge of an undefended temple could too easily bring life's vermin forth to plunder it. Despite there being little of sheer value here they could cart away, the curious and the ignorant would still descend en masse and likely disrupt the land's spells or defile the unprotected holy temple. This must not happen. These blessings are vitally important to the people of Joad, even if the current inhabitants are wholly ignorant of their existence.'

Another blank page followed. It seemed Anlashok left a blank page each instance appreciable time had passed for him. Exactly what occupied his time for so many years was unclear.

640 A.E. 'The vault of iniquities is intact. I had hoped a temple this size would not have one, yet apparently it does. I'm embarrassed, in fact, to have missed it all these years. Good work though. Dwarven, it seems.' 'The catacombs have taken up so much of my time and held my interest for so long, lately, that I hadn't even considered the possibility an iniquities vault might be here in a temple so small. When it occurred to me it might have one, however unlikely, I did think it best to search for it, though, and unluckily, I found it.' 'I, myself, my cousin, will not break the vault's seal. Without records of its contents, it is too dangerous to breach alone. But I'm sure you know that. Only foul, terrible, or harmful items are placed in such vaults to keep them from the wicked. Nothing good would come of entering the vault. Of course, for all I know, it may be empty, too. Yet the seals are intact. In my vision, the priest had been killed along with Joree, and no one would have been on hand to empty the vault, so if it did contain anything, it's probably still there. If you are a high priest, my cousin, I defer to your judgment on this matter. For myself, I will not touch it!' 'By the way, here's a curious discovery, my cousin. Contact with the soul field may imbue one with vigor and energy. If wounded, it even promotes divine healing. No doubt an effect of Joree's soul and the power of her love. Be warned, though, for however romantic a notion it may be to believe in love's infinite capacity, it is almost certainly limited. Such contact, if too frequent or rapid, might deplete the field and cause it to fail, thus releasing the Timber. Exercise caution, my cousin.'

Another blank page.

650 A.E. 'I have done all that I may here in Joad. The catacombs are secure. Our long dead brethren are resting comfortably. The temple is well hidden by both nature and magic. All foreseeable potential defilements have been excised. Would that I had better resources and allies, things might have been resolved for you, my cousin, but efforts now lead me elsewhere. My personal quest continues. I do not think I shall be returning to Wrath in my lifetime. My prayers are, of course, with you.' 'I leave this record for you, my cousin, steward of Moonstone, and hope you find it before future degradations reclaim the lands or temple. After my efforts, I think several hundred years, perhaps even half a millennium, will not undo my labors, and I have deferred the problem until such time as you arrive. As an unknown voice from the past, perhaps my wishes will mean little to you, my cousin, but I wish you all the best.'

The journal ended there, except for his signature.

'- D'armus L'see Anlashok.'

Afyanna closed the journal in quiet contemplation. Looking up at the sky, she guessed there was but half an hour before dusk.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Preparations For The Night.

Well aware of the group's failings with the nightmare in their last encounter, Sef had been thinking about their next meeting ever since. His spear shattering so easily had been a hard, but valuable lesson all the same.

With this in mind, as soon as the group returned to Joad, he set off to find the sturdiest length of wood he thought appropriate, and in the light of the fire, tempered and trimmed the timber to a hard point.

"We were separated last time," he noted to the others, "so this time, everyone stay in range of each other. We need offensive and defensive spells ready and we all need to be able to bear arms, not just one or two of us."

And with that, he returned to his project, his face set in a determined expression.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Before The Nightmare Cometh.

"A time to play, a time to pray, and a time to slay," Bebe recalled absentmindedly, as one of the old proverbs her venerable druidic master Quaramil used to recite. He was one of the few people she knew that would not get temperamental with her unending spew of questions.

"What was that you said, Bebe?" asked Alana, as the pair quietly fixed a quick meal before nightfall.

"A time to play, a time to pray, and a time to slay," she answered. "It is a saying that has an origin lost in antiquity. My former master would recite it to me when he thought I was not focusing enough on my studies, right after he would whack me with a good stick for daydreaming, of course." They both laughed lightly as they thought about it.

*I wonder if Alana had as stern a teacher as I had?*

Bebe liked Alana. They had a lot in common, and between the two, they could whip up a reasonable snack out of about anything. She had dealt a lot with the local halfelves from a neighboring village near her home, so it seemed natural just to be around her. It also didn't hurt that they both had a love of the natural world. The more time she spent with her, the more she wanted to be around her. Being raised with no sisters kind of made Bebe a little tomboyish. She would rather fight and wrestle with her two brothers than play house like a good little gnomish girl, and her inquisitive nature would turn a lot of possible friends away when they didn't want to risk getting into trouble.

*Maybe I just miss Jahar,* She thought.

Everyone seemed quiet as they prepared for the night. Everyone had a good feel for what had to be done, and they were busily preparing themselves. Bebe had everything she needed ready for the night and was trying to help out where she could, but often time all she got was a harsh glare if and when she got under foot.

"Best let the big boys and girls play, Alana. Sooner or later they will get hungry and appreciate my diminutive contribution," Bebe snickered at the small pun she quipped.

Becoming more serious, she looked over at Alana and said, "I really want to rid the world of this foul, unnatural beast that has beset the land. I only hope that this ends here." More vehemently she swore, "Ehlonna, give me strength!"

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Lonely Are The Vanguard.

The gray day had finally ended, and the sky, which had been threatening the world below with ominous rumblings of thunder, at last broke. The winds from the southwest had driven the tempest to Wrath, and were of such strength, even despite the shielding afforded by the forest, it made it difficult to stand upright without leaning into the gale.

Lightning now flashed across the heavens, periodically painting the adventurers with a brief light of clarity, revealing what was otherwise cloaked within the gloomy night, each flash followed by the new report of thunder, like divine voices from above commenting on what they had just seen below.

Though the wind-driven rain didn't quite sting, it was bitterly cold. Valin's fire helped, but only just. Experimentally, Tyrulf stepped out into the open, and despite being built low to the ground as dwarves were, he was almost knocked over by a gust. He quickly returned under the lee of the forest.

Experience told them all they would be weak and stiff by morning if they endured nature's assault the entire night. Still, all of them desperately waited, standing their ground, hoping quite unnaturally they would soon be beset by a creature most foul, at last urgently fighting for their very lives. The way the warmth was being sucked from their bodies, anything would have been better - even that.

Alana stared out into the night, watching, waiting, wondering if they were doing the right thing. A flash of lightning illuminated the scene ahead of her, a stark, lonely tree that had years before leapt out beyond the tree line like the vanguard of an invading force. She mused upon the notion of the assault of an army of trees, generation after generation, storming the countryside like invading troops - only in slow motion. It could take centuries to capture a few hundred feet of territory, but the plants were relentless. Sadly, she knew, their foes were too, and many humans would chop away at the trees faster than they could grow. The forest was losing.

Her analogy amused her, but filled her with concern and trepidation as well. Humans did all too often disregard the natural balance and take things too far. Most often greed or ambition was at the heart of such squander. Her helplessness at convincing others to act more harmoniously with nature was frustrating to her, and her soul felt sick at the thought of it.

Then the lightning flashed again and she felt even sicker, a sinking sensation filling the pit of her stomach, like when a creditor comes to collect a long overdue bill she knew she still couldn't pay.

There, by the lonely tree, she had seen the outline of a black horse. She had seen it, hadn't she? Peering into the night, she could detect no movement. Had it been her imagination? She held her breath, waiting for the next fork of lightning. It came.

The nightmare stood in the distance, under the lonely tree, watching them.

*Its hooves are not on fire,* Alana noted. *It must be able to control that,* she figured.

The druid wasn't sure what to do. The others hadn't seen it yet. The beast was just watching them, about seventy feet from the fire. If she shouted out, no doubt the nightmare would react. But how?

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Decisions, Decisions.

For the moment, all the beast was doing was watching, so Alana had a few seconds to think of a clever way to alert the others without it noticing her doing so. If she shouted out, the others would be warned, but if the nightmare reacted by an immediate attack, would they have time enough to prepare themselves for that?

She thought about surprising it by an attack of her own, but the hell spawn was too far away for her spells to have the effect she desired, and she didn't want to waste them in some futile attempt. Charging forward yelling at the top of her lungs would probably get the attention of everyone, including the accursed beast, but would also separate her from the others. As much as she wanted to free the world of the monstrosity, she still hoped to live and enjoy the result of her efforts when all was over. She briefly wondered how hard the choice had been for Joree.

*If there is no other way and I would be sure my sacrifice would have the result I desired, perhaps then it would be easier, but I'd rather not be trampled to death without even scratching the bloody beast,* Alana thought.

Seconds ticked by without the druid coming to a decision, and with each second the tension grew.

Alana started to slowly back away, trying desperately to remember the position of her companions without taking her eyes of the nightmare. She wanted to get as close as possible to someone with a bow, because at the right time she wanted to be able to cast her Guidance spell, which would hopefully aid the archer in seriously wounding the beast.

Alana could feel the nightmare watching her every move. Sweat trickled down her forehead. As soon as the beast would move towards them, the druid would scream a warning and then cast a Flare, which would, as Alana fervently hoped, distract the abomination long enough for the others to be ready for the attack. If it didn't attack, she would just quietly alert anyone close enough to hear her soft warnings.

Alana took another small step. So far so good. The tension was killing her. She didn't even dare blink for fear of wasting precious seconds reacting to the nightmare's actions.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: A Flare For Combat.

Alana took another step back toward Wyn and Cosher, quite prepared to whisper her intentions to the pair, but that last step was a step too far. The beast charged.

Kicking upwards, like a majestic leap over a high fence, the nightmare was airborne, but its arc did not begin a normal descent - as one might have expected for a normal horse - but continued up in a smooth climb, faster and faster, with unbelievable speed. It had covered half the ground between the lonely tree and the druid before she could react, but she shouted her warning before it was too late.

"IT'S HERE!" she screamed, pointing downwind of their position. She instantly began uttering some spell before others could even look or ask a question.

The nightmare hadn't reached a height of more than thirty feet at the midpoint before it began to dive, with a ton or more of horseflesh plummeting downwards with horrific force, aimed straight at the druid.

Almost immediately there was a blinding flash that illuminated the countryside, its epicenter fixed before the nightmare's face. A second or two later there followed a collision, though few saw it clearly for they had been briefly dazzled by the unexpected spell's brilliance. Thankfully, all but the nightmare were far enough away so the effect lasted only a scant second for them, but in that second, now flaming hooves met soft druidical flesh.

The instant Alana's Flare spell had been completed, she rolled back and to the left toward the safety of the trees. Her combat training to do so had saved her life. Instead of taking the brunt of two hooves squarely in the chest, only one flaming hoof clipped her with a glancing blow. Nevertheless, it left a burning gash in her right side.

Blinded by Alana's spell, the nightmare crashed to the ground between Wyn and Cosher. A blink or two later, everyone's adjusting eyes were then fixed on the nightmare as it quickly stood up, shaking its head and madly blinking its own eyes, trying to see what had happened to it.

It did not stand still, though, for it, too, like a well-trained combatant, kept moving and did not present anyone with a motionless target. Its sideways sauntering movement, however, took it straight toward Cosher.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: And So It Begins.

A flash of light, he would remember, started the fight. Not a natural light such as the lightning forks that surrounded them, but an unnatural hue accompanied by a scream from Alana. The nightmare had arrived at last.

Sefarlain turned towards the Flare, catching the last of its effects on his eyes. As he refocused, he saw the outline of the horse falling away from the fire. His mind flooded with thoughts and emotions, but above all he knew what had to be done.

He ran around the fire, coming at the beast from the rear quarter, and as he drew nearer, dropped his lance onto the ground and drew Alonwë. With hatred of the foul creature running through every fiber of his body, he threw an almighty arc, the steel cutting through the rain towards the nightmare's flank.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Confrontation At Last.

Bebe was startled out of her ruminations when a cry nearly as piercing as the wind itself broke the night air. She looked to the scream in time to see a blinding flash of light explode across the night sky, and a moment later the foul beast came crashing out of the light and straight into Alana.

Bebe couldn't see what happened to Alana, but felt that the hit might have been enough to kill Alana. Rage built inside Bebe, and as the initial surprise fled it was replaced with anger.

*Twice now this foul beast has wrought destruction on my closest friends. Ehlonna give me the strength to rid this world of this hell spawn!* she silently vowed as she drew into herself the life force of the forest around her.

The ancient words slipped from her mind to her lips as she began to close on the beast, pointing one small delicate finger at the unearthly defilement.

"Frrzzt Frutak Frizzle! Freeze Foul Foal!" she uttered, as life's energies used her as a conduit and flew from the tip of that outstretched finger towards the nightmare as a piercing blue, frosty ray of light.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Up Close.

Nature always fascinated Wyn in its less than pristine moments. The southwest wind screamed past them, cracking the thick cloak against his cloth covered legs while the forest occasionally sent branches crashing to the ground. The clouds above sprinted past, as if in as great a hurry as the villagers had been to leave Joad. Storms didn't usually aid those in need of haste.

The elven eyes settled on a figure not more than fifty feet to the northwest, illuminated briefly by yet another mighty strike of lightning, the resulting chuckle barely noticeable past the wind's chaos. The bird he saw there certainly wasn't going anywhere fast in that wind. Though the white thing flapped as quickly as it could, and though it was a small target, the wind was far stronger than its tiny muscles, forcing it further and further northeast despite its efforts.

Febriwyn's thoughts were interrupted by a new noise upon the screaming currents, high pitched and scared. Twisting his head about to look, he was greeted by a blinding flash of light. Backpedaling from the unseen assailant, Febriwyn swung the crossbow through the air before him, sand spraying across his face. The crossbow dropped to the sandy soil and the now empty hands went to work clearing elven eyes just to see . . . the nightmare - not five feet from him and circling towards his companions, one of whom, Alana, Febriwyn spotted rolling past him.

Acting more on instinct than training, the elf's right arm shot inside his cloak and pulled forth gleaming steel, his feet already propelling him to meet the demonic creature. Perhaps its hind legs would fair less well against sharpened steel than other targets.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Tendrils Of Frost.

The clamor had certainly startled the halfelf, however he was sure that no one was truly surprised. They had been waiting for it, after all. Now that it had arrived, the flurry of motion astonished the young boy. The nightmare may have gotten in the first strike, but this fight was far from over.

*Nice,* he thought. *Good choice in that Flare spell,* the wizard thought since he had contemplated using the same spell.

Although he didn't have it prepared, he knew he could sacrifice the power of multiple prepared spells to spontaneously cast it, if he really wanted to. But that was costly, and foresight was a much more effective weapon, he knew.

Motion surrounded the boy. The nightmare itself was a great deal of it, its movement hardly faltering as it leapt from one target to the next. But the nightmare itself was only a fraction of the equation. The entire party was in motion, some attempting to gain tactical advantage, others in the middle of casting, while a few rushed straight at the creature.

Mystir was in movement, too, sidestepping his current location by no more than a few feet in order to ensure a clear line of sight to his target. Stretching his right hand before him, Mystir clenched his fingers into a fist. Taking only a second to make certain that no comrades were in the way of his icy spell, and raising a single finger, Mystir pointed at the nightmare. With a few archaic words that were lost in the howl of the wind, the wizard completed the complicated intonations.

A bluish light streaked forth from his finger. The wind reached for the light, trying to pull it from its course, yet only snagged at its wake - causing tendrils of frost to pour from the beam.

As the Ray of Frost neared its target, Mystir caught another streak of light from the corner of his eye.

*Excellent,* he thought. *Let's bring this thing down together.*

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Shield Of Faith.

The brief look that Tyrulf took before casting his Shield Of Faith spell showed him that the rest of the group was not really affected by the flash of light, which Tyrulf assumed had come from Alana since she was the one to call the warning.

Without hesitation, Tyrulf moved directly in Alana's direction after his spell was completed.

*I think it may be best to save my healing spells for later. Alana seems to be safe, for now.*

The dwarf then ran twenty feet ending up about eight feet from the fire, smiling, as he gently placed his crossbow on the ground facing away from the nightmare.

*I'll have a surprise for you if you try to fly away, beast," thought Tyrulf, as he prepared to cast another spell.

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Into Battle!

Afyanna had been surveying the territory to the rear when Alana's warning rang out. Luckily for her vision, the bright flash of the druid's spell was diminishing when Afy's head snapped around.

The kin-der cursed under her breath. The beast was not only close, but in their midst already, and Alana had been knocked aside and appeared to be hurt badly. Thankfully she was getting back to her feet.

One of the most important facets of their plan had already failed. Only the druid, it seemed, had been able to get off an attack before it closed.

The holy warrior leveled the heavy crossbow, and instantly realized it would not work. The beast had come right into their position, and it was surrounded by her comrades. Though it might be ok, she decided not to risk it.

The nightmare was a scant fifteen feet directly in front of her.

Even though the holy warrior knew that her next action would leave her open for attack for a moment afterwards, she also knew that their best chance to hurt the creature was to strike fast and hard.

With sword raised, Afyanna d'Enthril charged the evil beast.

"In Corellon Larethian's name!" she shouted, closing the distance.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Recuperate.

Alana was momentarily dazed. The beast moved so fast, and it had nearly been upon her before she had been able to call out. Now her right side hurt like hell, but she guessed she should be thankful to have survived at all. She could see the others moving towards it, but it was hard to discern exactly what was going on with the pain distracting her.

The druid tried to get up using her left arm to push herself off the ground, and a deep groan escaped her lips. Damn, it had caught her good. Any plans she might have had of joining the attack evaporated the moment a fresh stab of pain seared through her.

Alana saw the figure of Tyrulf moving towards her. "I'll be all right," she croaked, her voice sounding hoarse in her own ears. "At least I will be in a moment," she muttered.

Alana moved towards the tree line out of the line of combat. In her condition, she wasn't going to be any help to anyone, but she could heal herself, and then she intended to pay the beast back with interest.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Have At Ye!

Even in the hard wind and rain, the nightmare seemed dazed to Cosher, and as it staggered toward him, he realized his options were few. He would be hit if he stood his ground, and he felt pretty certain the hell horse's momentum would knock him over and land him under flaming hooves. Rather than draw his saber to take the cut, he planted the pike and set it to receive the horse's flank, planning to skip backwards the instant contact was made. He prayed momentum would do its work.

Indeed, the massive beast's momentum was great, for when the nightmare did stagger into the fire-hardened spear, it simply broke. The branch had been nearly three quarter inches in diameter, and it just broke. It would have skewered any normal beast.

"Ye gods, ya beastie!" Cosh stammered while backpedaling. "Yer hide's as thick as iron," he cursed.

Almost simultaneously, two blue beams of light struck the nightmare from different angles - one from Mystir, the other from Bebe, though Bebe's had hit first. Both splashed the horse with light that instantly erupted into clouds of frosty mist, with thick coatings of ice adhering to, cracking, and then melting off the black hide of the enraged beast. They had both hurt it! Unlike blades of steel that had to pierce its hide, their spells merely needed to make contact, and both of them had done so quite handily - this time.

As the splashes of particulate ice dissipated, Sef sank to one knee and swung low with both hands, gripping his sword, putting his full weight and strength behind the strike and hitting the creature in the hindquarter. The steel blade slid along the beast's hide, but Sef could detect no bite to it. It had simply turned his blade.

Febriwyn slid in from the other side, also coming in low and from behind, trying for the vulnerable rear legs. The strike was true, but the nightmare's legs tangled the blade and, with the force of a lever and fulcrum, ripped it out of the elf's hands. The force had been tremendous, but the subsequent though inadvertent action of his cold steel against the creature's hide proved satisfying as a spurt of blood erupted from where the blade had sliced into horseflesh. Blood gushed forth, but immediately burst into yellowish white flame, searing the wound closed and leaving a nasty scab.

Blood loss would not be much of a problem for this creature of fire. Nevertheless, Wyn had wounded it. What's more, his sword lay only ten feet west of him near the tree line and within easy reach.

Afyanna charged, building her momentum, regardless of the dangers of the loss of control while racing directly toward the nightmare, and the beast fixed its attention upon her. Her blade crashed down on its flank, a good, solid hit, but the creature just shook its head back and accepted the insult. She had hurt it, but not nearly enough to stop it or even give it pause.

As the holy warrior's speed carried her past the demonic quadruped, it whipped it fangs out at her with a rapid twist of its neck and tagged Larethian's own. A hot pain shot along her right arm as a fiery fang cut a long but shallow groove along the limb.

As Afy veered off, she discovered the nightmare had spun about, almost turning 180 degrees without any lateral movement, and it was now following her in hot pursuit, its eyes red with rage, clearly determined to end her existence.

Alana could only look on helplessly from the trees as the combat ensued. Her self-healing support spell, she knew, was vitally important - as vital as any offensive spell might have been. By casting it, she remained a viable and potential threat to her enemy, as well as an aid to her comrades.

Tyrulf, too, had completed his intonations and felt the protection that now surrounded him. At last, he was ready, and he made his way toward the creature.

Lost amid the shuffle, a single crossbow bolt had missed its mark, and the rogue of Hermes cursed the unholy equine.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe Unleashes Brambles.

Bebe was satisfied the Ray Of Frost she had used struck true and was not surprised to see that another one hit about the same time. *Finally, we begin the end of this beast,* she thought.

The gnomish druid quickly surveyed the scene as she continued to the north of her current position, getting ever closer to the center of the fray that was unfolding. A momentary jolt of joy coursed through her as she saw Alana rise in the tree line, relatively unscathed.

*Thank Ehlonna she is all right,* she prayed.

Seeing that Afyanna was hard pressed by the nightmare, Bebe looked over her shoulder and yelled, "BRAMBLES, PROTECT AFYANNA!" as she pointed towards the holy warrior.

Immediately, she turned back to the beast and words began to flow from her mind as nature's energy coursed through her body once again, filling her with exhilaration. She was much closer and had a better shot at the beast's hindquarters. Her pointing finger shifted slightly towards the beast and as the words slipped from her lips, her second icy Ray Of Frost jumped from the outstretched finger and raced to its target.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Come On Then!

Cosher swallowed hard, fighting down the rising terror that threatened to engulf his stout, dwarven heart. The pike had been hopeless, or rather the nightmare appeared indestructible, but this only succeeded though in simply making the bard ever more determined.

"Right, ye beast!" Cosher growled as he whipped Sliobhann out of her scabbard and drew her back to strike. "Let's see how ye like a wee bit of Fiadharainn steel, eh?"

With the laugh of someone who was teetering on the edge of mad courage and sheer terror, Cosher began to break into his most inspiring war chant.

His booming dwarven baritone lifted into the air in moments, and the strains of The Last March of Finn MacCuillaog set the space around the heroes crackling with an almost magical aura.

- Johnny (Cosher)

PBEM Orlantia: From Long To Short.

Words would not pass the locked elven lips, though they held a certain satisfaction absent just moments before the spout of flaming blood left the beast's legs. But even as the blade struck true, the near leg moved forward, trapping the blade behind the far leg and wresting the elven steel from Febriwyn's hands. His eyes grew wide in surprise as the blade not only came free from his hands but also sailed at least ten feet to the edge of the woods near the previously wounded druid. Out of reflex, Febriwyn's right hand shot behind him and under his thick cloak, now whipping about in the wind.

Locking eyes with his companion as he noticed her much better looking complexion, Febriwyn gave a last look at his long sword, then turned back to the beast, his short sword slicing through the air as he drew it from its sheath.

Closing in further on the nightmare, Febriwyn swung again.

- Brandon (Febriwyn)

PBEM Orlantia: Face-to-Face With The Beast.

The nightmare had been hit by weapon and magic several times already, but still it came. It was hurt - far more than any of them could have taken - but it wasn't even slowing the beast down.

Afyanna had succeeded in garnering the evil steed's attention. Her comrades were safe for the next few moments, but now it was her own life that was in danger. Noting that the foul creature was fixated on her for the moment, Afy sidestepped a couple feet to her left. She hoped that the nightmare would continue to come at her and not notice Sefarlain slipping in directly behind it.

"IT ENDS HERE!" she yelled, striking again at the nightmare.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Quick Decision.

Tyrulf watched as several of his companions attacked the nightmare to no avail, and quickly decided to cast one more spell before rushing in.

*Last time I hit it with the aid of this spell. I hope it proves as effective this time.*

The Magic Weapon spell seemed to take forever while the rest of the group dealt with the nightmare, but as soon as it was completed, Tyrulf moved toward the beast with a determined grin.

*This is your last day, evil creature.*

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Alonwë's Bite.

The scream of the wind and the driving rain had seemed to abate while Sefarlain closed on the nightmare. Time slowed to a crawl as they battled against the seemingly invulnerable creature. Its hide had barely registered when Sefarlain had struck before, but this time he swore to make amends.

He gritted his teeth and held the blade even more tightly in his hands. Running after the beast, he screamed an oath as he swung once more at the nightmare's rear quarter.

This time, he hoped, the horse would finally taste some of his hatred.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Charge!

Her healing had worked. Despite some small discomfort, Alana felt whole again. Her eyes locked briefly with Wyn's and she followed his gaze to the place where a faint glimmering on the ground indicated his weapons must have landed. Alana thought about retrieving it, but not for long. Her attention was quickly diverted to Afyanna being pursued by the nightmare. The beast seemed intent on destroying the holy warrior. Alana felt fear rising up inside her. The offhand way in which the horror had knocked her aside had left more bruises than just on her body.

"AFY, HERE!" the druid cried. Perhaps the trees could give the holy warrior some shelter. But she knew, even as the words left her mouth, that that would not be enough.

There was no other choice, for she knew if she failed to do something now, she would never forgive herself. Despite the fear twisting her insides in a knot, Alana took a firm grip on her quarterstaff, finding some small comfort in the solid feel of the wood, and then charged. In a flash she noticed that Afyanna apparently also had decided to stand her ground.

*Good. Perhaps this time we can teach the beast some fear, too,* she thought.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: One For The Price Of Two.

Mystir had always planned on using his talents in a less combative situation. Because of this, he had opted to keep a wide array of spells on hand. Unfortunately, combat is where he currently found himself, and right now he needed to do some damage.

Raising his hand yet again in the direction of the nightmare, Mystir repeated the motions of the Ray of Frost spell. Allowing the stored energy of his two remaining cantrips to meld into one, the boy focused on the pages of his spellbook. The images and words on the page containing the Ray of Frost cantrip flooded his mind. In releasing the pent up energy, the apprentice was able to spontaneously cast a spell he had not prepared, at a cost.

The cost was great, indeed. His ability to cast multiple spells was greatly diminished, yet he felt it was worth the price. Now would be the time for them to overcome the beast. Now would be the time for the halfelf to hit the nightmare with everything he could.

- Kevin (Mystir)