PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 029

PBEM Orlantia: Down The Stairs.

Afyanna paused to catch her breath from the long climb back up the stone steps. Looking around, she noted the rest of the party breathing heavier as well.

*Thankfully the vault is still intact,* Afy thought. *At least one thing has gone our way.*

The church elders still would need to be notified of both the temple itself and of the vault, but she would have to finish the work that Anlashok had begun.

*Always one more thing to do.*

Afyanna's eyes fell upon the glowing aura in the center of the temple. The mystical energies swirled and danced within the shimmering field. It was a reminder of something pure and good, yet now it was the fuel that kept evil going.

The holy warrior truly wished there was some other way to stop the nightmare. If not for the beast, Afy wondered if the church might have left the field intact as a monument and reminder to she who had stopped the invasion. The temple would no doubt have been more important for having a visible 'wonder' than for simply being able to say 'On this spot, Joree Sheen, the Holy Warrior of Wrath fell.' Afyanna could even imagine pilgrims coming to the temple. And the combination of a powerful temple and of Joad would be truly amazing.

Afyanna wondered about her duty. She had sworn a sacred vow to her god and church. By dropping the field she was removing some of the prestige the temple would have. She was stunting some of the future power and wealth of the area.

*POSSIBLE prestige, power, and wealth,* Afy reminded herself, for she truly did not know what would come.

Was she right to do this? Dropping the field could work against the best interests of the temple. Was there another way?

*No!* Afyanna realized. *I was tasked by Corellon Larethian to stop the evil. And if stopping it means removing the field, then that is what must be done.*

Once the exploration of what Afyanna figured must be the wine cellars was complete, the field - and Timber - were next.

"All right," Afy said, "let's explore that passage on the other side and see where it goes." She pointed off to the east.

"More steps?" Bebe asked. The gnome with her shorter legs had enough trouble keeping up with the party. But now she was being dragged up and down steps that were not meant for a person of her height.

"I'm afraid so," Afy said with a smile, "but we'll have a little time to rest once we see what is down there and return."

"And when we return?" Sefarlain wondered aloud.

Afyanna followed his gaze to the field. "Unless we find something to change things, yes."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: The Catacombs.

Satisfied the nightmare was not present, the party moved toward the last unexplored area of the temple, an easterly downward stairwell running off from the southeast hall that had led to the pantry.

The steps down were dark and narrow such that they had to arrange themselves single file. Sef went first. Down they went, deeper into the earth, and the ranger noticed as he traveled the walls began to reflect the lantern's light better. Quietly he rubbed his finger along the wall and pulled back what he had expected - moisture. The walls were wet, and the mineral deposits that encrusted the cracks and seams spoke of considerable age. In a well maintained passage, such deposits might now and again be scraped away - the passage being narrow enough as it was - but those walls had seen no maintenance for quite some time.

Sef was about to inform the others of this possibly important fact when he heard Wyn whispering.

"No one's been down here for quite a spell, I'd say, judging from these walls."

As Wyn said it, Sef came upon a landing and stopped. There was a gentle corner there where the stairs continued down, but now went directly north.

"Same slope as before," muttered Tyrulf. "A hundred steps so far, and fifty feet deep," he said for the benefit of those who had not been counting them. "Just the same depth as the vault," he commented, as if there was some possible significance to this fact. If there was, he didn't elaborate.

"Go on," Afy whispered. Sef did so, holding the lantern in front of him as he went, beating back the swallowing darkness with each step.

To the north the stairs went down only a further ten feet, or twenty more steps, then became a corridor of sorts, but it was not manmade. It twisted and turned and meandered like a slow river. Whatever it had been - probably an underground river - it was dry enough now, except for the ever-present moisture that lent a sheen to the rocky surfaces. The floor, however, was another matter. Gravel filled to level it off, the small stones arranged thus had obviously been brought in, for it was unlikely such a level surface would have occurred by chance. Besides, the gravel was not native to the flow.

Difficult to accurately judge such curving distances, after ten minutes Sef called a halt to their progress.

"I don't know how long this goes on, but it's quite a distance from the temple. Maybe two hundred yards or better already."

"We must go on," Afy told him, "at least until we find something or hit a dead end."

Adamant in her desire, Sef turned and continued forward.

*I guess it's just the closed-in feeling that's bugging me.* For the first time since the party had formed, he was regretting taking point and silently wished Tyrulf was in his stead. *Dwarves are better at this, aren't they?* he asked himself.

In fact, after a further fifty yards, when a natural enlargement of the path opened up so they could change their order, he suggested it.

"I'd rather Tyrulf took the lead. He's more expert in tunnels than I, surely?" he said after stopping again. No one objected, and the dwarf seemed anxious to take the lead, feeling sort of at home himself. Shifting positions, soon Tyrulf held point.

Then they went on, and on, and on, covering over a thousand yards, all told, before finally coming to an end where the shaft bent upwards, narrowed, and disappeared from sight. But at that juncture, the hand of man or dwarf resumed itself, where a ten-foot diameter, semi-spherical chamber had been hewn out of the solid rock.

Before Ty stood what could only be described as a door. It was made of rock and could just be made out in the dim lantern light, but it looked odd. Add to its unusual design the fact that years, maybe centuries of disuse had coated it with mineral scale. It was, in all likelihood, frozen.

"Ack, it'll take a wee hammer to open that darlin'" scoffed Cosher.

"A few well-placed taps with a morningstar'll do it," replied Ty, "but it'll make a devil of a noise. Shall I do it?"

Afyanna decided they hadn't come that far to uselessly turn back, and seeing no alternative, nodded the go-ahead.

The clanking sound of metal on stone reverberated down the corridor, and fifteen minutes later, after a few tentative attempts, Ty announced his confidence they could break it free of its scaly locks.

Again Afy nodded.

The stout dwarf put his shoulder into it, slamming his full body weight against the ancient door, and burst open into the darkness beyond. Lanterns carried by Sef and Afy came up behind him where the sudden giving way had toppled the dwarf to the floor, and in their light was revealed twisting corridors and sandy floors, honeycombing this way and that, intersecting one another, and leading off into myriad directions. It was a virtual labyrinth.

Now and again, as they cautiously explored the immediate area beyond, never losing sight of the door they had just opened, areas about three feet from the floor had been chiseled out of the stonewall. They were empty, for the most part, but one of them held the skeletal remains of a person.

"Catacombs," whispered Afy.

"This door," Wyn spoke evenly from where he had been examining the recently entered portal, "was a secret door from this side. I doubt many could have detected it from the catacomb's side," he proclaimed.

"Look here," came a small voice from down the tunnel. It was Bebe's. She and Brambles had ventured further than the others, so far. Of course she was confidant Brambles could track them back by scent wherever she wanted, so she wasn't at all worried about getting lost. The others didn't quite realize this. "There're some stairs going up," Bebe told them. "And over there, some more going down," she added.

Afy didn't like it. They'd soon become lost if they didn't stick closely together.

"How extensive do you think this place is?" she asked.

"This body is an elven male's," Mystir spoke up, having examined it. It was not remarkable in any way, and carried nothing of wealth or particular interest.

"It's wrapped in a simple burial shroud and carries no materials beyond that," he further told them. "If this is the burial place of the elves of Wrath from times of old, that makes sense."

"Yes," Sef agreed. "Rarely would an elf take external worldly beauty with them to the grave. We adore magic and jewelry and items of beauty, it's true, but would not likely deprive the living of these things. At this point, the spirit moves on and has no need of material possessions," he said, giving everyone there a brief glimpse into some elven burial customs.

"Meerrrrrrooooooowwwwww," someone commented.

Everyone froze. Looking around, they could see nothing.

"Mmmerrrrrooooooww," it went again. This time Sef had been ready, waiting, painstakingly listening for the noise to zero in on it.

"Up those stairs!" he said in an exclaimed whisper, pin pointing the source of the call with a point of his sword, which he discovered he had drawn without too much thought. But somebody was laughing now.

Turned out it was Alana that was laughing, and after gaining control of herself, she said. "It's just Lucian. He's down here somewhere. LUCIAN? LUCIAN!" she called out loudly.

Afy shot an admonitory look in Alana's direction, displeased with the blatantly loud calls, but she said nothing, thinking better of it. There were 'probably' no harmful creatures down there.

"Mmmrrrreeeeeoooooooooww," the darkness said again.

"It has to be Lucian," Alana assured Afyanna.

"Naturally," Mystir agreed. "What else would you expect to find in a CAT-acomb?" he snickered, almost embarrassed he had said it after it escaped his lips. Everyone groaned.

"Find him, girl, go find Lucian," Bebe ordered Brambles. The wolf sniffed the air and began her trek, Bebe close behind. The others followed, Alana second after Bebe, desperate to make her reacquaintance with her friend.

They passed more bodies - at a glance, nothing too interesting, but their frequency was increasing - and they went up the stairs, then another a few yards from that. Brambles was following a trail, a scent, it seemed. Turning the corner, the single file of adventurers stopped in their tracks, the ease of their movements suddenly halted by a massive wine rack taking most of the corridor's width. Hundreds of bottles were racked there, and in the dim lantern light that died thirty feet from its source, more racks could be seen beyond.

Bebe picked up a sample bottle. It was dated thirty-five years ago. "Looks like we found Joad's wine cellar," she concluded.

"Meerrroooow," Lucian said, looking down on Bebe from atop the next rack, almost seeming to smile at the gnome.

Delighted, Alana ran to her companion and offered him her back. The cat obediently jumped to the proffered perch, then climbed up to and settled on her shoulder, slightly digging in his claws in that familiar way.

"Oh Lucian, I missed you," she cooed, stroking her cat. "How'd you get here?" she asked rhetorically.

"Mrreeoooww," Lucian answered anyway.

"Obviously, he found another entrance," Mystir said. "The one the people of Joad use to store these bottles down here, probably." He was venturing further along the tunnels as he said this and could make out dozens of racks from his vantage point, each holding hundreds of bottles.

"By the gods, there's a lot of wine down here," a quick mental calculation demonstrating to his satisfaction the possible enormity of the stockpile.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Just Explorers.

The description Horton gave of the vastness of the wine storage did little to prepare Afyanna for the sight of all that wine. Racks and racks of wine. And more. Lots more.

"That's a lot of wine," Afyanna murmured slowly. Sometimes only the simplest adjective could approach the magnitude of a situation.

The party investigated the first few racks and found pretty much what Afy expected to find, after Horton's admission.

"I don't think we'll find anything else here besides the wine," Afy said.

"And it would take us weeks to find all of THAT," came Alana's voice from the aisle between some racks.

"I think it's safe to say that this is their storage area," Bebe said lightly.

"Exactly," Afy continued, "if there was anything else here the townspeople would have found it years ago."

"Why so much?" Valin wondered.

"I'll say this much," Afyanna began, "this has to do with what Horton explained to me earlier."

At the mention of Horton's secret meeting with the quest leader, each of them drew closer from where they had been poking about.

Afyanna continued once they were all near. "All I'm comfortable saying is that Horton has planned out the future of the town and this is part of it. Further, we mustn't disclose what we saw here today. To do so might spell disaster for the town. I swore to him I would keep his secret. I ask that you do the same."

There were murmurs of agreement from the party. Afyanna didn't know if they all agreed or not, but she was not going to belabor the point. They each had to do what they must. If her comrades were the kind of people she expected, then they would do the right thing.

"All right, we need to get back up to the temple. I don't think we'll find much here."

They made their way back out of the wine storage and through the catacombs.

"Before we close this door," Afy said, "Sef or Wyn, can you clear our trail from near this door? No reason to leave tracks up to a secret door. And Ty do you think you can seal it back up again?"

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Facing The Timber.

Tyrulf insisted he first see the secret door closed from the other side, but once that was done, he announced that he felt confident it would remain a secret. With the tracks gone and the secret door closed, they headed back on the long journey through the old underground river tunnel.

Sefarlain took a little time to catch his breath as the group returned from their exploration. If anything, it confirmed their suspicion that the nightmare had not penetrated any further into the temple. The beast's exact location remained a mystery, but that of the Timber was not. The blue-white shimmering field stood before them; the threat hidden by its light.

A thought sprung to Sefarlain. "We still have that gift from the knight, do we not? Sir Eric Ornatep gave us that balm that can be applied to weapons that would gift them with magical benefits for a brief period. If we plan to face this Timber, could it give us a slight advantage? We may need all the help we can summon."

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: More Ideas.

Afyanna nodded her head. "That sounds like a prudent course, Sefarlain. Unlike the nightmare, we won't get a lot of attempts to see if we need it or not. Best to stack the odds in our favor."

The holy warrior looked around the main area of the temple. Noting that the area of the altar, and field, was relatively clear of the surroundings, a thought occurred to her.

"What if we piled wood around the field and set it alight BEFORE we dispelled it? We could release the Timber right into a blaze. Could even toss some oil on the beast when the field drops."

Several pairs of eyes widened at the suggestion.

"The Timber should be surprised at 'awaking' here with us," Afy continued, "which should give us an advantage anyway. But if it were suddenly faced with fire it might be so off-balance that we could beat it quickly."

Afyanna didn't know if her pep talk about a quick victory was working, but she did note a few approving nods around the circle.

"Afterwards," she said with a smile, "we will have a nice fire to lure the nightmare here in case it appears outside."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: The Next Move.

The ranger listened to Afyanna's plan using fire to attack the Timber closely, slightly biting his lip in concentration as she spoke.

"Fire has its merits, Afyanna, but I'm worried this Timber might not even be harmed by normal fire. As soon as the field comes down, we will have an opportunity to attack it with surprise, from behind, and with maximum force. Won't using fire prevent us from getting close enough to the creature for us to do this?"

Since no one really knew much about the Timber, it was hard to say what the likelihood of fire damaging the beast was. But one thing the elf knew was that fire would certainly adversely affect the group, and he wanted the best chance possible to kill that creature quickly.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Point Taken.

Afyanna thought about what the ranger said a moment before responding. "I believe you are correct. Any advantage the fire might provide, would no doubt be lost while we ourselves tried to avoid it."

The holy warrior looked around to everyone else. "Does anyone have any other suggestions, or should we make ready for a direct assault?"

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: A Matter Of Position.

"I must agree," began Mystir. "I think fire will do as much harm to us as the Timber - especially in this confined space."

It was true the room did seem to have good airflow, but the general heat is what concerned the boy most.

Peering about the room another thought came to him. "Before we release the Timber, there is something we need to determine."

Turning to face Afy he continued. "We need to be certain where the Timber will appear. If I am correct in my thinking, it should appear at the exact spot where it was when the stasis was created."

The boy paused a moment to ensure his thoughts were on the right road. "Since you witnessed its creation, can you pinpoint the position of the creature?"

Before allowing her to answer, the wizard added another point. "If so, we should also be able to ensure that we are behind the beast as well." The halfelf added, "I'm no master at combat tactics, but I am sure most would agree a rear attack would be favorable to us."

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Hard To Explain.

Afyanna nodded at the mage's assessment. "The Timber was standing over the alter . . . at the moment of Joree's death."

Afy couldn't quite verbalize how it had felt to be laying on that altar with the giant wooden creature standing over her. And then to have its giant hands swing down and impale her onto the altar with her own dagger was more than she could adequately relate to others. How do you explain what it was like to not only be another person for a few moments, but to also experience their death firsthand?

She regained her composure and pointed toward the field. "If the Timber was frozen at the moment the field formed, then it should be facing south, its back to the entrance."

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Prepare The Spells.

Tyrulf shook his head to clear it. *Well, it seems that everyone is determined to do this.*

Looking around at the group Tyrulf could see that everyone seemed determined to fight the Timber, but Tyrulf had some doubts. That creature had defeated what sounded like an experienced Holy Warrior of Larethian. There own group was mostly untested. A few encounters with a hell horse had ended up with one member of the group dead and several near dead didn't seem like much, really.

*There doesn't seem to be any other alternatives, so let's get on with it,* he thought to himself.

Tyrulf moved up to the group's leader and voiced his opinion so all could hear.

"Afyanna, perhaps it would be prudent to plan out this encounter more. We should know what everyone's place will be and what they will be doing, at least for the first part of the battle. We have the advantage in that we know where the beast will appear, and I would think it would be disoriented for a short while, as it will not know what has happened. We all know that plans usually don't hold together since battle is so chaotic, but the beginning should be well planned. I, for one, want to cast a couple of spells just before you drop the field; perhaps others will want to do the same. What say you?"

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: Preparation.

The party, uncertain about how to tackle the nightmare, appeared to have decided to fight the Timber instead. Sefarlain sighed inwardly to himself, but at least could understand the problems.

*At least this way we face the creatures on our own terms,* he thought. The thought of the field collapsing mid-battle with the nightmare would have spelled certain death for them all and the ruin of Joad.

"Well then everyone, if we're going to do this, let's get ready. Afy, are you and I to take point? I guess we'd better use that salve that Sir Eric gave us? And as you said Tyrulf, the spell casters may cast in advance and make sure you have a clear line of fire. We should be able to get several of us on this thing and surround it, so others should wait in the wings and attack its flanks when it turns on Afy and me."

His heart fluttered at the thought. At least this encounter would be decisive, one way or the other.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: Ready When You Are.

The young wizard moved towards the back of the group. Nearing the entrance to the main chamber, the boy stepped into the second row of pews on the western side of the temple. *Hopefully some cover will do me some good,* he thought. Satisfied with his position, he sat down.

"I'll be back here," Mystir announced. "I should have a clear shot on the golem," he said, nodding to himself.

The boy paused a moment to take one last look at the temple. "I've no spells to cast ahead of time," he started, "and I'll be casting offensive spells during combat."

A brief nod from Afy informed him that she understood his simple plan.

"Well then," the wizard stated. "I am ready when you are."

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Backing Out.

Febriwyn glanced quickly around the room, stepping towards the entranceway, his shoulders sagging for a moment, his eyes only focusing on Sefarlain. This was ridiculous! This beast made of wood had bested a great - legendary in fact - warrior who had defeated many far more experienced warriors! The others might be more experienced than he - how was he to know otherwise? - but they had indicated they were not.

"I'm not going to fight that thing," said Febriwyn, moving closer to the exit as he spoke.

- Febriwyn (Brandon)

PBEM Orlantia: Let It Begin.

Afyanna eyed Febriwyn as he moved toward the temple entrance. There wasn't anything she could do about him. It wasn't as if he was sworn to her or her cause and she couldn't ask him to leave. As it stood, as long as he didn't hamper their efforts - more than by not assisting - then she was in no position to make demands.

Turning her attention back to the front of the temple, she caught Sef's eye, who was also watching Wyn leave.

"I think we are of the same mind on this," she said. "You, Cosh, and I on point and the others arrayed around us was precisely what I was thinking."

Afy opened up her pack and retrieved the small bottle that Sir Ornatep had bestowed upon her. "Here, Sefarlain," she said, handing the bottle to him. "There should be enough in here for my sword as well as your sword."

Afyanna looked around the area. Tyrulf, Mystir, Alana, and the others took up positions away from the field. She noted with a critical eye that their line of fire were clear to the shimmering field. Afyanna stood directly between the field and the entrance, with Sefarlain on her right, and Cosher on her left.

"All right, let's do this," Afyanna stated. Looking to Sef, she added, "Go ahead and put on the salve."

Sefarlain opened the bottle and applied the weapon salve. Half the jar was enough to coat the weapon, and just enough extra to ensure it was totally covered. As he did so, flecks of light glittered and wavered along the blade, like little sparks of static electricity jumping from finger to door handle on a cold morning, and soon Sef had covered the entire length of the blade. Afyanna then did the same with her blade, emptying the jar. There wouldn't have been enough salve for another weapon. Completing the temporary treatment, the sparks died away leaving, unless one was mistaken, a barely perceptible reddish tint to the blades, the play of electricity having faded. Sef took a few experimental cuts in the air and seemed satisfied. Afy just felt it was right and steeled herself for the task ahead.

Sef nodded to her and she pricked the end of her left forefinger with her sword point. It hurt more than she thought it would, but she ignored the pain. Afy held her fingertip steady a moment to ensure a few drops adhered to the point. She stuck her finger in her mouth and looked to each of them arrayed around the room to ensure that they all knew it was time.

With a nod, she pulled her hand away from her mouth, and stuck the bloodied sword point into the field.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Spirit's Release.

Spell coordination was a difficult proposition, at best. Most combat spells were of extreme limited duration, particularly for beginners who had yet to master a greater command of their art, and even then, it often required the utmost care to ensure all was in readiness before any finite spells were cast. One mistake, even a small one, might totally waste their power as they stepped back and took time while forced to rethink their actions.

Tyrulf felt everything was in readiness, and had decided to quickly cast his two limited spells in succession, his enchantment spell on his weapon cast last so it would hold out just a touch longer. As the completion of his second spell neared, Afy was already extending her blood-covered sword tip into the blue-white shimmering field.

Nothing happened.

*DAMN!* Ty cursed inwardly as precious seconds slipped away.

Afyanna looked puzzled. *I thought that would work. Oh, ah . . .* she realized in an instant, recalling the words of Anlashok's journal.

'The soul field could be dispelled easily enough 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 their lord to release Joree's soul.'

Afy had wasted a precious moment, but plunged forward, uttering aloud, "My Lord, Corellon Larethian, I implore thee, release the soul of Joree Sheen so that we might continue in her stead," and again thrust the bloody blade forward.

This time the field wavered and diminished, the blue-white energy collapsing from a spherical form into that of a human shape. It turned its head toward Afyanna, its visage finally discernible as it smiled at the holy warrior. It was Joree, and the spirit-like entity mouthed the words, 'Thank you,' to Afyanna before beginning to quickly fade into nothingness. But as she faded, she pointed northward, more or less toward Joad, and then looked skyward. Then she was gone.

In her wake stood a crescent-shaped gray stone altar, upon which lay the mortal remains of the fallen Holy Warrior Of Wrath. And towering above that stood a massive, wooden creature that Afy instantly recognized from her vision. It looked . . . perplexed, uncertain of what had just happened. But it instantly twirled around, as if it caught a scent of something unexpected, not to mention wholly repugnant to its very being, its knot-like eyes settling on Sefarlain with a look of utter hatred. While the creature did steal a quick glance toward the stairwell entrance while snarling at something there, its attention quickly refocused once more on the elven ranger.

"Eeelllvvveeesssss . . . " it hissed in a slow, woody sort of way, and then lunged toward Sefarlain with branch-like appendages.

It was incredibly quick for something so massive, and despite Sef's readiness, one of its rapier-like fingers of wood skewered his left arm and broke away, not unlike, he thought, getting an arrow shaft through him, though he had never actually experienced that before. It hurt. A lot. Yet he marveled at the fact he mastered the pain, not so much by blocking it out, for he felt it keenly, but by ignoring it.

Marshaling himself, Sef gripped Alonwë tightly and swung in reply, hitting the bark-like covering of the beast, chips of wood splintering off from where the blow had landed.

Afyanna flanked the Timber, its concentration upon her teammate, and she squarely hit it with her own sword but was disappointed only a small wood chip flew off the creature. While in such close proximity, Afy noticed the beast had many gouges taken out of it already, and in particular, one of its rooty legs was nearly hewn through.

Another slash flashed before Afy's eyes, this time from Tyrulf, his mighty battleaxe taking a bite from the Timber's side. The creature ignored the shimmering hill dwarf, lit up with an eerie purple glow. Also, it ignored Afyanna and the others, its intention upon the ranger quite clear as its gapping mouth opened and screamed, not in pain, but in hatred at what stood before it.

"Aaalll eeelllvvveeesssss mmmuuusssttt dddiiieee," it hissed.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: A Missile of Magic.

*Such a powerful creature, such strength and speed, all gained through magic alone,* the halfelf thought.

Unfortunately now was not a time to be studying. Lives were at stake. Any moment lost in thought could spell doom for the party.

The height of the golem made targeting it quite easy. As the young wizard quickly extended his clenched fist, the voice on his breath rose from a murmur to nearly a shout. Although his voice was raised, it was no match for the trembling sound produced by the wooden being.

Upon extending his fingers, as if tossing an object from his hand, a small red ball of energy shot forth. Its aim was true. But then the aim of a Magic Missile was always true. Whether the energy caused harm to the creature or not was determined by means other than its targeting routine's accuracy.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: A Struggle Continues.

The ranger released his two-handed grip on Alonwë and gritted his teeth. His left arm hung by his side, and despite the surge of battle he knew it was useless. Focussing on the terrible sight in front of him, he swung once more at the Timber.

"IF I FALL, SOMEONE TAKE MY SWORD!" he shouted, as he continued his attack.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: The Struggle Continues.

Alana felt her heart pounding.

Before her brush with the nightmare she had never in her life encountered anything as malevolent as the hell horse, and the encounter had left her more shaken than she had anticipated.

The Timber oozed that same kind of dark evil, and she found herself unexpectedly affected by it, holding back from the fight more than she had intended.

The creature seemed intent on destroying Sefarlain. Poor Sef, he seemed always to take the brunt of the attacks.

Despite the reluctance of the others to use fire to destroy their opponent, Alana had prepared one of the bottles of cooking wine to use in case of an emergency.

She had put a rag in it and was now looking for a way to ignite the contents. High alcoholic content wines, like cooking wines, burned very well, she knew from experience.

Once the rag was lit and burning strongly, she would aim it at the Timber. The bottle would probably break and the burning contents would hopefully set the creature on fire without hindering any of the others.

Using one of the lanterns, she lit the rag and repeatedly turned the bottle so the flames licked upwards at each turn, and soon the whole rag was burning nicely. Then, as hard as she could, she flung the bottle at the woody creature.

Unfortunately, though she hit it, Alana had misjudged the strength of the bottle. Instead of breaking, it bounced off the bark with a glancing blow and skipped sideways past the Timber. Even when the bottle hit the stone floor, it remarkably did not break.

*Damn, they have good bottles,* she thought. Of course such things were often designed to withstand the rigors of transportation. Still, it was mostly just bad luck. She would have been better finding a more fragile bottle, perhaps even one designed to break upon a sturdy enough impact, or perhaps she should have scored the bottle's surface to facilitate its breaking, but she hadn't thought of that, and she was forced to make due with the materials on hand. Now her efforts had been wasted. The druid just glared for a moment at the burning bottle, a rag wick still holding its flame, licking the wall where it had come to rest.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe And Brambles Attack.

Bebe wasn't sure if she agreed with the reasoning behind eliminating the golem first, but she did sign on to help Afyanna in her quest to clean up the temple, and this was part of her oath. She was going to speak up earlier, but decided against it. *I really wished we had time to research this particular beast prior to its release,* she thought, but deep down she knew that would add days, maybe even weeks before a solution was attempted. *There's never a handy sage around when you really need one,* she lamented to herself.

As she stood in the temple, her apprehension began to increase as the time ever so slowly crept forward to the moment the field was dropped. Everything seemed to be happening so fast, yet she felt as if she was caught in one of those slow motion spells she had once heard about. Febriwyn's retreat towards the stairs didn't help her mind set either.

Bebe concentrated on the area in front of the pews next to her and began to chant the ancient words that were burned into her mind from hours of training by Quaramil's sharp eye. "Hart-tar Hi-Eta-Goh! Ehlonna please send me an ally of nature to help us in our time of need." The power shot from her upraised palm and a dull green light flashed on the floor where her mind was focused, thinking about, of all things likely, a badger.

Bebe did not know if one of nature's allies, if that badger, would actually harm the beast, but it could cause a diversion long enough for one of her companions to land a solid blow.

She looked up to see Afyanna having some sort of problem dropping the field. Then suddenly the light vanished, and though other things were happening, Bebe's gaze leveled on the huge monster that appeared and began attacking Sef. At first Bebe was taken back by the noise and the speed of the thing. Then rage set in as she realized the atrocity she was looking at. "Well, Woody, it's time you became a stump. Come my friends," she said as she led her menagerie forward into combat.

"Brambles! Trip!" Bebe called out as she cut the distance to the Timber in half. *I don't know if Woody has an Achilles' tendon, but if it does Brambles will find it.* Brambles appeared as nothing more than a gray streak as she sprinted across the room.

Bebe could now hear Cosher's inspiring chant as he to raised his weapon to strike at the beast. Since she was now within twenty feet of the Timber, it was time to cast the only spell that seemed effective as of late, her Ray of Frost.

Bebe pointed her finger and calmly chanted the ancient words, "Frzzt Frutak Frizzle," then shouted, "FROST THE FRACTURED FIR!" The power surged down her arm to leap from her raised finger in a piercing blue streak.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia:

The Timber's attention seemed to be focused on Sefarlain, so Afyanna made every effort to use that to her advantage.

Sidestepping slightly to her left, she positioned herself opposite Sef, with the beast in between them.

"Foul creature, defiler of this sacred temple, in the name of Corellon Larethian, I strike at thee!" Afyanna felt the power of her god channel throughout her body to Smite Evil on her next attack.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Another Ball Of Energy.

In the time that passed since the instant the field was dropped, a flurry of actions took place. Mystir took in the scene around him with amazement. The lumbering hulk struck with extreme precision, blinding speed, and crushing strength. Those nearest the beast lunged with their weapons. The sounds and motions of spells were abundant. Although the wooden being failed to yield to any degree, the halfelf hoped that they were gaining the upper hand.

*I sure hope that those from long ago weakened this thing,* the boy thought as his left hand remained dipped into one of his pouches. Even though he had no spells prepared that required a material component, it was a good habit that he picked up, at least he believed so.

The wizard repeated the motions from just seconds before. Moments later another ball of energy shot forth and collided with the golem. The last of his Magic Missile spells had been used.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Victory Delayed.

Sef spun 'round and stepped sidewise, using his and the Timber's diverging momentum to dance around each other and put some distance between them while he grabbed the impaling shaft through his left arm, steeled himself, and drew it out. The blood gushed, true, but no artery had been hit, and he knew it had to come out, lest it get caught up in combat and ripped out, causing even more damage.

He didn't mean to, at first, having prepared himself to stifle any scream, but he thought better of it instantly, and howled in pain and anger as he drew the shaft forth, but made his scream into a battle cry - all this while he kept moving, turning, keeping to the flank or rear of the Timber as it wasted time turning its massive form, seeking what had become if its prey.

*Good,* he thought, "I'm faster than it. Use that,* he concluded, and since the thing was intent upon him, while it took extra time to target him, his comrades could do their work.

Suddenly a badger came screaming out of nowhere, surprising Sef. The nasty, vicious little thing threw itself with abandon at the Timber's roots and snarled ferociously, as if she were a mother protecting her young against her mortal enemy. It was all over the Timber, and if the abomination had been made of flesh instead of magically immune bark, the damage would have been impressive. As it was, it seemed more an annoyance to the Timber than anything else.

A flash of light suddenly shone before the Timber's knotty sockets, Wyn's Flare spell causing it, ever so briefly, to pause. Cosher chanted, helping in the only way he could since he did not possess a magic blade, and he continued building the morale of his companions. Meanwhile, the other dwarf, clad in purplish aura, danced in and chopped at the creature's rooty leg, scoring a solid hit and cleaving the root in two. The beast went down, quite akin to a man going down to one knee, but the Timber still commanded a wide berth as its branch-like appendages had considerable reach. But clearly, its movement was greatly diminished, thanks to Tyrulf's efforts.

Magic Missiles slammed into the Timber's side, the crimson ball of energy splashing against it, sapping the damn thing of further strength, followed by a streak of blue light from Bebe, covering a section of its bark in icy frost, not unlike the beautiful splendor of the recent blizzard's aftermath.

Alana recovered her flaming cocktail, but now she hesitated, uncertain if she should break it upon the ground beneath the Timber, for its flames would surely hurt the badger.

Afyanna slashed again at the beast, this time having a better angle, thanks to its lowered position, and she allowed her full weight to follow the blade, even though she knew it might throw her off balance later - this blow had to hit - and it did. A satisfying chunk of wood shot out from the neck area and skipped across the stone floor.

Brambles seemed confused and momentarily followed the chip, grabbing it up in her mouth, shaking it violently, then tossing aside. She probably felt good about that, though it did nothing to aid the cause - not that she could have helped anyway, considering the badger's performance.

With consummate stealth, the Cleric of Hermes appeared with surprise by Sef's side and touched the bleeding arm. Valin's Cure Minor Wounds orison didn't do much, but the bleeding did stop. And then he was gone, sneaking around, doing literally god knows what in all the confusion.

With one great knotty hand, the Timber had the badger in its grasp and literally crushed the life out of it with no apparent effort. Then it threw its lifeless form with deadly accuracy at Wyn in the distance, and it would have hit the elf, too, had the blasted badger's carcass not vanished mid flight.

*Huh, whatdoyaknow?* thought Mystir.

Any feelings of glee, however, were immediately replaced. In a foolish maneuver, the Timber lay back and down, exposing its entire prone length to attack. But it could now surprisingly reach Sef - and it dearly wanted to, and it did.

A massive ball of wood, its fist, slammed into the ranger like a great mauling cudgel, just as Sef's return blow, almost as a reflex, skewered the beast through its left eye socket, hopelessly wedging Alonwë into the wood. The sword left Sef's hand as his body was flung back, his unconscious form coming to a complete rest at Alana's feet.

The Timber, too, gave out a sort of groaning sigh, one hand going to its face in disbelief, uselessly trying to extract the metal sliver, but it only managed to shudder for a moment on its side there, and then also came to a complete stop. An eerie yellowish glow, like a mist, oozed into the air and dissipated. The thing was dead.

For a moment, but only for a moment, silence would have reigned there. Yes, it would have been deafly quiet, if not for the muffled clop-clop-clop noise of hooves coming down the stairs from behind Wyn.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Stomach Pangs.

The satisfaction of defeating the magical beast quickly faded as the sound of hooves entered the room. The smile on Mystir's face disappeared as he turned his head to the entrance of the temple.

*Already,* he thought. *Not yet, too soon.*

Pangs shot through his stomach upon realizing just how bad the situation was. The group was unprepared, weakened. And when the nightmare entered the room, there would nothing standing between himself, and the foul beast.

*Not good,* he thought.

His next thoughts were of his own safety, and he immediately bolted along the pews. He placed distance between himself and the entrance, planning to use the angle in the pews as concealment.

The boy came to a sliding stop merely feet from the decomposing corpse of the last wizard to face the hell horse. Dropping to a crouched position Mystir eyed the remains. The grisly sight forced the wizard to realize what may come of this encounter. But he wasn't satisfied with those results.

"Let us hope that I fare better than you did," he said to the pile. Pausing a moment, as if waiting for a response, the boy quickly looked about. Knowing he may need to hop over or dive under the pews he surveyed his options.

With his eyes just cresting over the pew Mystir focused on the party and the entrance.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: The Worst Case Scenario.

The last of his incantation spoken, Febriwyn's lips drew tight and he began to rush forward. It was too late, though; before Febriwyn had taken more then two strides, the Timber had struck out and sent Sefarlain to the floor.

That was when he heard it; the sound reminded him of an encounter many decades ago.

--------------------

At the time, Febriwyn had just snapped a necklace his father had always held very dear. Before his father found out, Febriwyn had decided to repay his dad and ventured near the mountains south of Orange Lake. He had heard dangerous men from Sargon's Realm frequently passed through that region, for the elves did not hunt it so regularly, and thus there was a good chance of finding something special, something that would ease the pain of his father's loss.

The trip itself had been rather uneventful, but after several hours of uneventful searching at the edge of the woods without seeing man or beast, Febriwyn decided that he'd fare much better striding the path of the bandits.

Wyn stepped out onto the path and began wandering the rocky roads, slowly scanning the path for any misplaced belongings of the bandits.

It was approximately an hour before it happened. He had slowed down because he'd still not found anything and it wasn't likely anything would be overly obvious. Out of nowhere, Wyn heard boots scrape on rocks, several of which started to roll forward. Spinning around, Febriwyn lost his footing on the rocks and crashed to the ground on his side. Looking up, he saw a large, rugged looking human, his sword drawn, and a huge smirk starting to draw across his lips.

The breath left Febriwyn's body and, try as he might, he couldn't force more than a mouse's whisper to escape his throat as the man drew within two feet of the prone youth.

At the time, though Febriwyn could clearly hear the man's haggard breathing, he didn't pick up on what would be the familiar ringing of tension released from a powerful line or the deadly whispers of airborne wood. Instead, he merely watched, held in place by the deepest fear, as the man stopped in mid-stride. The look that came over his face, had it not occurred at the precise moment Febriwyn feared for his very life, would likely have emitted at minimum a quizzical look.

The man stumbled another step towards Febriwyn, then stopped again, as his chest lurched forward. As the man's blade rang out in protest against its sudden impact against the rocky path, eyes that previously held only malicious intent were now wide and looking off into the distance.

Wyn, seemingly in control of his muscles once more, began scrambling backwards over the stony path without regard for his bare elbows and forearms. The man lurched forward again, his mouth falling open and arms flailing behind his back.

This time Wyn heard the twanging of a well-used bowstring and the low hum of a traveling arrow. This time, he understood why the man stumbled as the head of an arrow passed through the human's flesh, leaving a wooden shaft hanging clearly through the neck. This time, the man simply fell to the ground, one arrow through each leg and two higher up.

It had taken many weeks before Febriwyn could pass before the warriors again without them all bursting out in laughter. One had happened upon his trail just a few miles from camp and followed him from there, merely observing, until the potential danger became too great.

--------------------

This time, things were different. The muffled sound of hoofs striking stone rang out clear in his mind, instantly connected to the foul hell horse they had encountered previously. Febriwyn's eyes stopped only a second on Sefarlain before turning, with the rest of his body, towards the new threat.

As he spun, Wyn dexterously pulled forth the longsword that had long hung by his side.

"Alana, treat Sefarlain, and someone open the secret stairway!" yelled Febriwyn, elven eyes searching for any foe.

- Febriwyn (Brandon)

PBEM Orlantia: Unlucky Horseshoe.

"What the Hades . . ." Bebe spun around as she heard the sound of the nightmare approaching, or at least she thought it was the nightmare.

"Of all the low down rotten luck! I hope it is coming back because it is injured," Bebe said, more or less to herself, then, "BRAMBLES, TO ME!"

*Boy, that damned horse-thing could move fast, and I am far from ready to face it,* Bebe was thinking as the list of her prepared spells cycled through her mind. Everything she pretty much had in her repertoire was out of range.

She took a quick assessment of the situation and decided the best she could do was to help Mystir. *I should go over and help Sefarlain, but we can't afford another member down. If Alana can't help him, I will go after I assist Mystir.*

With nothing else she could do on such short notice, she decided to cast Dancing Lights in the rough shape of a man holding a blade, right across the aisle from where Mystir had been, next to the wall. *Maybe the sudden lit shape will distract the nightmare long enough for the rest of the party to organize a defense,* she hoped.

*Yes, that's what I'll do. I'll cast a figure by the wall so the nightmare won't see it until she crosses the archway threshold,* Bebe decided.

The ancient words came to the front of her mind as an old piece of carrot was crushed in her outstretched fingertips. "Ligot-tarro-ti," she chanted, entwining her fingers in the shape she desired as her mind sent the energy forth.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Rendered Aid.

Alana was still debating what best to do when events suddenly took a course of their own. She didn't need Wyn's reminder to take care of Sefarlain. The druid was already kneeling down near the ranger.

"Just hang on," she told him. "Hanali and Rillifane will surely not deny me."

She decided to sacrifice her Shillelagh spell and uttered the words that would invoke divine healing upon Sefarlain. As she uttered her prayer, Alana watched the bruises fade and the gash in the ranger's head close, proof positive the divine presence of her lord worked through her. Yet the ranger remained unconscious. *Not enough,* she regretted, knowing the nightmare would be there before more aid could be rendered. At least he was breathing more easily. She was glad she could help him, even if it was only to face the accursed nightmare again.

Too soon. The infernal beast appeared too soon. Alana willed anger to replace the fear. This time they would take it down, because this time it would not be able to heal itself again.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: No Rest For The Living.

Afyanna watched the mist from the golem seep into the air and disappear. It was dead at last. "Thy deed is done, Joree," Afy said under her breath. "Rest in peace."

The holy warrior's attention remained focused on the fallen Timber until she became aware of the sound of approaching hoof beats.

Turning instinctively toward the sound, she couldn't help her surprise - and though she was loathe admitting it, even a touch of panic.

*No! It can't be!* she thought.

Afyanna's mind raced over what she knew about the nightmare. Or what she thought she knew. It was daylight, and it would be for many hours yet. The nightmare hovered, it did not walk. Perhaps it was just a passerby who overheard the sound of battle? Afyanna noted Brambles streaking across the temple interior to heed Bebe's call. She thought back on the spectacle of lowering the wolf into the entrance. No, no horse and rider could have negotiated that in any normal fashion. No matter what she thought she knew of the hell-beast's routine, it had to be the nightmare.

Noting that Mystir had been near the entrance, Afy decided to step around the back of the altar, putting it between her and the temple front. Hopefully, whatever charged down the steps would see her and not even notice the retreating, vulnerable wizard there.

There was little time to do anything else by the sound of the hoof beats. Afyanna prepared herself for the second wave.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Bad Luck.

Tyrulf was elated as he saw the Timber fall. *Evil creature.* Alana had already moved over to Sef and he could hear her healing spell. A cheer almost escaped his lips before he heard the noise.

*Hoof beats?* Tyrulf shook his head. *What could be worse?*

Steeling himself, Tyrulf lifted his shield and moved up beside Wyn. "Be ready to move to either side when it comes after us."

*We have not come this far to lose to this infernal beast,* he vowed to himself.

Tyrulf turned around, making eye contact with the other members of the group. Smiling, he bellowed, "Come forth foul beast. You shall fall as t he Timber did!" just loud enough for the rest of the group to hear. Turning toward the door he hefted his axe, ready to strike.

"Even if I die this day, I will die fighting," he whispered.

- MJA (Tyrulf)