PBEM Orlantia

The Story So Far
Chapter 030

PBEM Orlantia: Another Fall.

The level of illumination in the temple had changed with the falling of the soul field, but not too much. Its intensity was still about the same - one could see as much or as well as before, at least above waist level - but its color had shifted from the iridescent blue-white of the soul-field to a lovely sun colored whitish yellow, though now there were far more shadows than before. Joree's Continual Light rock lay upon the altar, so the floor region was cast more in shadows.

Mystir's mind was an odd, convoluted place - most mage's minds were like that, though - and the wizard's thoughts toyed with an analysis of what he was seeing; even while almost frantically preparing for the fight of his life, he couldn't help but think about his craft.

*Old school, divine origins - much harder, or at least rarer these days,* he thought, noting Joree's Continual Light rock and how it differed from the more modern, familiar, cheaper, and therefore more widely available Continual Flame spells. He might have begun to think about how much more such a spell might have cost, in terms of material components, but current events recaptured his attention.

The muffled hoof beats from the darkness slowed, then stopped. Desperate seconds passed, uselessly eroding away the limited time some of the party's spells would last. The nightmare, if it were the nightmare, had stopped in the darkened corridor, perhaps sensing danger, or perhaps for some other reason.

Then Wyn, Ty, and Cosh - a waiting wall of opposition - saw flames appear and could finally discern the nightmare as its hooves seemed to catch on fire, finally illuminating the corridor. It was just at the bottom of the steps at the landing, standing there, peering ahead into the temple's chamber, maybe wondering about the new color of light. Could a nightmare see color? Probably. Just because they looked remarkably like an ordinary horse in most ways didn't mean it was much like a horse at all.

Then it came forward once more, this time the familiar hoof beats were gone. It was walking on air again. Why it sometimes did that and sometimes walked upon the ground itself, they weren't sure, but it apparently had that ability.

Bebe's spell complete, a shimmering figure, faintly transparent in places, appeared holding a sword - or so it seemed. It danced its way from where Mystir had been to a position in front of the approaching nightmare when it entered the chamber. The hell horse gave it a moment's consideration, but not much more than that. It wasn't exactly dismissing the Dancing Light apparition as unimportant, but rather its focused was drawn to the altar - or perhaps the now missing healing field.

Whatever the reason, the expression on the nightmare's face - if it could be likened to a human's reaction - reminded Wyn of both anger and rage, as well as . . . fear? Then it looked desperately around the room, absorbing it in in a second's breath, then burst upon them with terrible action, almost taking them by surprise by its sudden volatility. It rushed the waiting wall of opposition comprised of elven and dwarven flesh. Cosher received the brunt of it, unfortunately, and went down as both the hell horse's flaming front hooves slammed into the sea dwarf's chest, knocking him down.

A feeling of dread began to wash over the party members, the cheery, inspirational, comforting bardic chant of Cosher a fading memory, replaced by the wild scream of an angry nightmare.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Familiar Incantations.

The party had hoped to fight the nightmare later in the day. Unfortunately, without rest, the wizard was down to a scant few and comparatively weak spells. They were also hoping that the creature might be injured in some way. Mystir quickly eyed the beast from top to bottom, hoping to find that it was previously weakened or wounded, but was disappointed to see no injuries upon it.

Shaking his head, Mystir watched as the iniquitous equine charged. Jumping to his feet the wizard extended his hand towards the beast while familiar incantations escaped his lips. With his hand following the movement of the beast, Mystir released a Ray Of Frost and the warmth of the temple caused the spell's trail to dissipate rather quickly.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe Reacts To The Nightmare.

The Dancing Lights did not seem to noticeably affect the nightmare as much as Bebe had hoped. *Well, it was a long shot anyway,* she sighed.

Her mind raced as the fiery beast bore down on Cosher, so fast he hadn't the time to react.

"BRAMBLES, TRIP!" she called out, knowing the wolf's instincts would send it to the nightmare's rear for an attack.

*Sometimes, you just got to love pack mentality, unless you were on the receiving end, of course.*

Bebe remembered the effect the previous Flare spell had had on the creature and decided to try it again. She also remembered the discussion after the melee about casting such a spell. Tyrulf, Cosher, and Febriwyn were all well within the area it could affect, so she wanted to warn them, but could the nightmare speak common? Most likely from what was previously related about it. How about Elvish? Seeing Cosher struck down so suddenly made her mind up for her.

<Elvish>"BEWARE, FLARE SPELL!"</Elvish> she yelled at the top of her lungs. She was in almost the perfect position to deliver the spell right into the eyes of the beast.

"Fractal," the ancient word leapt from her lips, and a white burst of energy flashed near the eyes of the nightmare.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Chaos.

Chaos swept into the temple alongside the nightmare where the party was spread out all around the interior. Valin had opened the secret door and a way to safety, but could they reach it in time?

Afyanna surveyed the scene from her place behind the altar where she had taken up a defensive position in hopes of drawing the beast in and covering their retreat to the hidden stairwell. Instead, Tyrulf was next to the hell horse, Cosher was down, and the rest of the party was making moves to attack.

The unconscious sea dwarf troubled her. Cosh had taken the brunt of the attack, and if the history of this thing held true, the nightmare would attack again until it was sure its victim was dead.

"Get it away from Cosh!" she shouted. "Try to work it toward the stairway!" Of course if the nightmare could understand her former warning, it could certainly understand the latter orders as well.

Afyanna raced around the altar to her left and up to the nightmare. She thrust her sword at the beast, parried its supernaturally hard fangs, and dodged its feints, all the while trying to keep its attention from Ty, and more importantly, the still form of Cosh.

"Someone get Sef and Cosh to the stairs!" Afy had no time to look around to see if anyone was taking up the task.

As she fought for an opening to strike, Afy did her best to ease backwards - towards the secret door and downward stairs leading to the vault of iniquities, where Valin stood, waiting. If they could only confine the nightmare's movements, they might even things out. Failing that, they might be able to get out of the fight altogether.

"Why did you come early!?!" she spat.

The opening Afyanna had worked for finally presented itself, and she put her weight behind the next swing.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: The Refuge.

The Rogue of Hermes looked on with disbelief from the corridor. The secret door had slid open silently below the din of battle while the nightmare's arrival created its usual carnage, this time inside the temple. Valin ran towards the party just in time to see Cosher fly backwards from a mighty blow the hell horse had scored, the dwarf's body landing in an unmoving heap of limbs, clothes, and blood.

For an instant he felt paralyzed. Too many needed his help. But one thing was obvious to Valin; now it was time to retreat. He couldn't face this beast on his own, so his duty now was to help save others until they were ready once more to confront the nightmare.

"RETREAT TO THE PASSAGE!" he shouted as he ran over to Sefarlain's body. Cosher was too far, but if the party was going to take refuge, no one could be left behind. They had seen the evidence of the nightmare's victims before - it would not leave wounded men alive.

He grabbed hold of the elf's shoulders and heaved, trying to drag his body across the floor to the passage. Speed was now essential.

- Justin (for Valin)

PBEM Orlantia: Flurry's Fury.

First Sef, then Cosher had fallen, and the second battle had virtually just begun. What's more, the horse from hell seemed more furious and hate filled than before, fighting this time with even greater ferocity. Afyanna could sense it - this time she knew the nightmare would not retreat. It was beyond pissed.

Just then, Mystir's Ray Of Frost laid its icy grip on the nightmare's left flank, clearly more an annoyance to the beast than anything else, the thin coating of ice quickly melting and running off the fiery creature's hide. Yet the young wizard didn't have much else he could do, and rushing straight past the nightmare to the secret stairway and possible safety would be risky. And there was Cosh, of course, lying there, apparently lifeless. Mystir still hoped, however, that life remained within the mortal dwarven vessel, but knew he had to act quickly if it were to be preserved.

Brambles rushed in, nipping at the rear legs of the nightmare, tangling herself in them while trying to bury her fangs into a succulent hindquarter. The nightmare faltered a bit, tripping on the wolf, definitely distracted from perhaps more important matters ahead of it where it would have rather attacked dwarf and elf. But Brambles' proximity demanded attention, and the nightmare took precious time to mitigate its lupine dilemma.

A quick sidestep and upward kick launched the rear quarters of the beast into the air, then a sharp, downward rear double kick extricated the nightmare of its wolfish adversary with a loud snap of bone followed by the high-pitched whine of intense, unexpected pain.

Bebe's Flare spell went off, though her animal companion's piercing cry of astonished agony almost caused her to falter in its completion. The brilliant flash of white light had some effect, but she couldn't say how much. When she opened her eyes - which she, as well as others who had heard her Elvish warning, had momentarily closed - she saw Brambles meekly crawling away toward Mystir, dragging both her hind legs uselessly behind her, whining with each effort to move away from the battle.

The wolf's distraction, though, and the gnome's subsequent spell, had both helped to give Mystir the time and necessary cover to reach Cosher and drag him, not toward the secret door, but toward the pantry. Thankfully the nightmare's attention went back to Tyrulf and Febriwyn.

Mystir had just made the corridor to the pantry with Cosher's body, and from there he might try to skirt the wall and make his way to the secret stairs, or he might disappear with Cosher into the darkness of the pantry, knowing the much longer, though safer trip would eventually bring him back to the other side. But he disliked that option, for it would probably take him out of the remainder of the battle. First things first, however.

As part of every so-called 'adventurer's' training, first aid, anatomy, and rudimentary healing skills under combat conditions were a must. Mystir was no different, and he took the time to stabilize Cosher, after first assuring himself life remained within the sea dwarf's still form.

Brambles crawled under a stone pew and vanished from site, her whimpering emanations only ceasing after she completely disappeared from sight.

Alana and Valin had, by that time, both managed to drag and carry Sef's unconscious form to the secret stairwell, and struggled to gently ease him down the stone stairs far enough so others might follow, yet not be blocked. Valin returned to the top of the stairs, while Alana remained momentarily, thinking about what she could yet do for the unconscious elf.

Afyanna, having circled the altar and passed the fallen Timber, confronted the nightmare where Ty and Wyn were both still vying for an opening in its defenses.

Wyn would have helped Cosher, but when he saw Mystir's intentions, he knew it would be better to keep to the right flank of the monster and hold its focus there, not to mention he dearly wanted to slice into its unnatural hide with his sword.

The hill dwarf, glowing of a purple hue, now had the nightmare's full attention. The beast probably didn't know what to make of the strange purple aura, or the heavy battleaxe the glowing dwarf was threatening it with, so it could scarcely afford not to keep its eyes on its stout adversary.

Wyn stepped forward and then followed with a quick lunge, striking at the hopefully softer underbelly of his freakish foe. Satisfaction followed as he felt the bite of his blade, but he couldn't afford to dwell on it and instead recovered his stance and withdrew a few extra yards, his quick, outward retreat the exact reverse of his inward path.

Ty slashed sideways with his mighty battleaxe, clipping the black brute, and then carried by his momentum he found himself next to a glowing swordsman - Bebe's Dancing Light spell. They were now to the rear of the nightmare, while Wyn and Afy were to the fore.

Afyanna, too, struck inward, but her blade glided along the supernaturally hard hide of the spawn of hell. She would have cursed it, too, if she hadn't found herself uncomfortably close to the nightmare, so she instead swallowed hard. She was in grave danger.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: A Choice?

By the time Valin had reached the top of the secret passageway, his breath was labored - such was the difficulty in moving an unconscious body across the floor. It was actually much easier to move the dead - one didn't have to be so gentle, but Sef was very much alive so pains had to be taken to ensure no further harm came to him.

Valin had helped the unconscious elf down the stairs and had just returned to view the fighting; what he saw filled him with dread.

Afyanna stood seemingly alone before an enraged nightmare. The room was filled with malevolence from the creature, seemingly surrounding the holy warrior. She looked helpless.

Faced with such a situation, the rogue's hand automatically went to his boot, retrieving one of his throwing daggers. He wanted to do anything that might assist Afyanna in her battle, and it was the best he had. Taking aim, he let fly the poniard with piercing, practiced precision.

- Justin (For Valin)

PBEM Orlantia: Low On Options.

After pulling Cosher just inside the hallway, Mystir peered back into the room. The battle still raged and the group was running low on options; two of their best fighters were down, and the wolf was out of the battle. Retreat was the only real option at that time, he felt, but the halfelf and dwarf were cut off.

True, he could attempt to cross the room. But with the nightmare's targets dwindling, and dragging an unconscious body, it didn't look good. Unfortunately for the wizard, going around would take too long, and heading to the catacombs would leave him separated from the others.

*If I'm going to do this, now is the time,* he thought to himself.

Once again, gripping the dwarf by his clothing, the young boy dragged him across the room, sliding along the wall, Mystir pulled with all his might. He only made it as far as the altar when he relented and decided to pause briefly to get a better grip.

Yet, wanting to be of assistance in the battle, after the wizard released Cosher, Mystir unleashed the power of another Ray Of Frost. What effect it had, he no longer cared enough to wait and see, but instead returned to the task of dragging the motionless form of his companion toward safety.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Satisfaction.

A grin played across Febriwyn's lips as he danced back from the hell horse, his eyes watching the noticeable spurt of flaming blood leap from its underbelly before it seem to cauterize itself and stop. That was a strike to be proud of, following it up just as he'd been taught.

But Febriwyn wasn't quite sure if he should take a defensive stance or strike again, for surely the beast's attention would now focus on the only one to truly injure it. Reality, however, did not feel like waiting for the elven rogue to decide and, before he knew it, the hell horse was starting to turn. Febriwyn stepped forward and repeated his previous attack.

- Febriwyn (Brandon)

PBEM Orlantia: Silent Vow.

Afyanna had thrust her sword forward at the same moment the nightmare lunged. The movement had not been what Afy expected from dancing with the beast, and her blade had made only glancing contact. Now she found herself close to the hell horse. Too close.

The holy warrior considered a quick retreat, but for two things. The first was Wyn's full hit on the nightmare. It was hurt now. Maybe not much - but it was a start. The second was that even with her proximity to the beast, its attention seemed focused on Tyrulf. She didn't know why, but she didn't want to see what would happen to someone it was focused on.

Instead of retreating, Afyanna took a few small steps backwards to regain her footing, and then resumed her attack again.

*This time, when I hit - it will be solid!* she silently vowed to herself.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Their Plan.

Alana had struggled with Valin to move Sefarlain to safety. An excuse, she admitted, to not yet confront the hell horse again. But a good excuse. After all, what good would it have done to first save him, just to let him be trampled in the heat of the fight? It was funny how much heavier an unconscious man could be than one expected. Now she peered over Valin's shoulder to the fight where her companions bravely faced their enemy. The nightmare towered over them, as malicious as ever.

*And again - may the beast be damned back to the hell it came from - there is scarcely a thing I can do,* Alana inwardly raged. She knew her quarterstaff would hardly make an impression on the creature. But she still had some spells left. She turned to Valin.

"If you wish, I'll cast a Guidance spell for you," she said to the rogue. "I have no experience with bows, and even with the aid of my spell I might miss, but you could use the extra advantage to hit that abomination real hard."

"I discarded the crossbow earlier," Valin confessed. "I didn't think it would be of help against the Timber, and I didn't expect the nightmare so soon. The crossbow is resting somewhere on one of the pews," he explained to her as quickly as he could.

"You might use Sefarlain's bow," she suggested. The damned thing had been poking her continually during their struggle to move the ranger to safety. She only hoped it hadn't been damaged during the fight with the Timber.

"OK, might as well do something," he admitted. "But after you cast that spell, remain here with Sef and see if you can help him," he told her, thinking what they really needed in a fight wasn't rogue or druid, but Sef's fighting skills.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Have At It.

Tyrulf looked about and saw Valin had safely taken Sef to the secret entrance and could still see Mystir standing over Cosh.

*Not much to do,* thought Tyrulf. Even if Valin had Sef in the passageway, the nightmare would just go after Mystir and Cosh. On top of that, Tyrulf could never outrun the beast anyway.

"LET'S HAVE AT IT, BEAST!" screamed Tyrulf while swinging his axe with all the strength he could muster.

- MJA (Tyrulf)

PBEM Orlantia: A Grim Gnome.

Bebe quickly tallied the day's losses, and they weren't good. Her instinctive reaction was to run to her beloved Brambles and try to console her while healing the she-wolf's injuries, but deep down inside she knew that the only way out of this mess was through death. Either the nightmare died then and there, or the hapless group of adventurers would be fodder for those hellish hooves.

'Instinct is what the animal uses to survive on the earth, but the druid uses discipline and cunning to evoke the power of the earth. Are you no better than an animal?' she recalled the words of her ancient teacher, Quaramil, as the last of her indecisiveness fled her mind and the fear that momentarily gripped her shook from her body.

She knew what must be done.

She did not believe the Gods led them to that place to die. *Are we not acting out the grand scheme the Gods have designed for us?* she mused.

"Corellon Larethian, guide our hands as we set forth to cleanse your temple of the befoulment that has been wrought upon it! Ehlonna, help me cleanse the earth that has been befouled by this unholiest of abominations! Garl Glittergold, help protect your unworthy servant from this foulest of beast!" Bebe prayed not only for the guidance of the Gods, but also, in a slightly more morbid fashion, her last rights, just in case that grand foyer would be her final resting place.

Not willing to commit fully to armed confrontation with the nightmare at that time, Bebe focused her mind on casting another Ray Of Frost spell.

Bebe raised her hand and pointed at the hellish beast. "FRZZT FRUTAK FRIZZLE!" she yelled as the power of the earth built up around her and an icy blue streak rushed outward. "FREEZE FOUL FOAL!"

There was the beginning or the end. Either they avenge their fallen comrades, or they would ride with them again in the Happy Hunting Grounds.

"For Jahar, for Brambles, for all the others who have run afoul of this beast," she quietly whispered as a tear ran down her cheek.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Attrition's Race.

Valin's aim may have been true, but it didn't help. His well-balanced throwing dagger simply bounced off the hell horse's hide. Alana, by then, had completed her Guidance spell on Sef's bow and handed it forward to Valin.

"Keep trying," she urged him. Then she retired back down the stairs to Sef's waiting form, her mind dancing over her limited magical options.

Back in the temple, Mystir's Ray Of Frost hit the creature again, another minor amount of damage - almost negligible against such a huge, unnaturally tough creature. It finally dawned upon him that the thing was, he knew, properly called a monster. He had never liked the term 'monster' before, but now he had a new appreciation for it.

Of course Mystir didn't see all this, having immediately returned to dragging Cosher's body toward the secret door. He had gotten another third of the way there when he passed Alana's flaming cocktail. She had left it there when she had carried Sef away. It was still burning.

*I could toss that,* he thought, *or cast another frost spell.* Either way, his fingers ached and he had to rest a second or two before going on. Dwarves were surprisingly heavy.

Wyn lunge forward again just as the nightmare was distracted by another splash of cold from the south. *Keep on him, mage,* Wyn thought. *Together we'll kill this thing,* he hoped. But his optimism was misplaced, and this time he almost stumbled in his forward lunge. He recovered, but he had missed his chance again. How many more chances would he have? He could ill-afford to lose any!

Afy, having first stepped back, also lunged forward, striking with all her might at the evil equine. Frustration ran the entire length of her body as she missed, and badly at that. She normally couldn't pierce its damnable hide, but this time she had missed it entirely. A curse flew from her lips as she retreated, preparing to try again, never wishing to surrender - knowing she couldn't even if she wanted to. It was do or die.

Ty's battleaxe made another mighty chop for the nightmare's rear quarter - a cry of angered pain followed, plastering a grin on the hill dwarf's face. Flame spurted from the hindquarter, only to immediately stop as the flaming blood coagulated instantly upon contact with the air. Then the dwarf's grin vanished with the fading of his purple aura of protection. Suddenly he felt naked. Time was running out. With the failure of his first spell, only seconds remained for the battle enchantment on his axe.

Then another Ray Of Frost came streaking at the nightmare, hitting it, causing it to yip in startled annoyance. Bebe took a moment to glance toward the pews, but knew she could not afford to leave the battle. There was no doubt they were hurting it, mostly by bits and pieces. But how much could it take?

Wildly the nightmare kicked back with one leg, hitting Tyrulf so hard everyone could hear the air escape from his lungs and could see the grimace of pain on his face. Then unexpectedly, it kicked forward, pushing off from Ty's stout body, and whipped it snout at Afyanna, clipping her with one of its fangs, dragging it along her left arm and leaving a red trail of blood. This thing was brutal and unrelenting.

"MMMRRREEEEOOOOOOWWWWWWWWW!" came a feline scream. Lucian had jumped onto the back of the nightmare, but he was quickly bucked off. Yet telltale fiery scratches remained on the beast's back for a second before vanishing. Minor as they were, it was something. Having been thrown off, the feline landed on its feet with grace, then the odd cat disappeared under the pew where Brambles had vanished.

With Ty behind it and Wyn and Afy in front of it, the nightmare wasn't certain what to do next. It seemed to react rather than initiate attack, but that was likely just a coincidence. If they gave it time, it would doubtless press its advantage. A growing fear they could not outlast the beast began to more firmly set in everyone's minds. Was this their last day on Orlantia?

Whatever the case, the nightmare again screamed wildly, flailing its legs in the air, threatening the entire room and all its occupants.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: The Grim Gnome II

*Damn! What kind of swordsmen have I hooked up with?* Bebe thought in frustration as she watched the ineffectiveness of her companions' recent attacks.

She looked at Mick, her shillelagh, with doubt. *Hmmm, I guess I could club it in the shins,* the thought of which gave her morbid amusement as the picture of her being trampled to gnomish goo flashed before her eyes. Then again, she had had a lot of training fighting larger creatures, probably more than the others. After all, when you're only three feet tall, everything you meet is bigger than you. Most human-size races usually trained at fighting with creatures their own size. It was an advantage, if only a slight one.

But the thought of rushing under that meat-grinding beast from hell did not appeal to her stomach. She quickly decided to cast another Ray Of Frost spell instead. *At least they seem to be working to some extent,* she figured, *and every bit helps.*

She began to draw the earth's energy into herself, preparing her mind to cast the spell, hoping with all her might to whittle down the beast so someone could deal the critical deathblow.

"FRZZT FRUTAK FRIZZLE, FREEZE FOUL FOAL!" she intoned once again, the frigid ray shooting from her finger to their beastly adversary.

She only had one frost spell left, and then she would have no choice but to move into the grinder. Knowing that might be the case, Bebe cut the distance between her and the nightmare by half, hoping that when the time came, she was in a good position for an opening, if need be.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: A Blessed Shot

Valin grabbed the bow hastily from Alana's hands and drew an arrow from the fur-lined quiver. The bow felt lighter in his hands than he expected and had he the time, the rogue would have noted the harshness of the carving and bindings. An effective weapon perhaps, but not a beautiful one, as he had heard Sefarlain complain from time to time.

After Alana had incanted her spell over the arrow, Valin drew back and took aim at the beast. He barely flinched when it attacked his friends, such was his concentration on his aim.

*Now then, it has come to this. This is for Joree,* he thought.

Holding his breath, Valin released his hold, allowing the ranger's arrow to fly towards the fell creature.

- Justin (Valin)

PBEM Orlantia: To Safety.

With muscles aching, the wizard continued to drag the body across the floor. Mystir never focused on brute strength - his studies were usually that of mentality and reflexes.

The words of his teacher echoed in his mind; 'Be quick of the mind and quick of the body.' Mystir shook his head.

Mystir felt . . . useless. Here he was, an upcoming wizard, a prodigal student, and someone adept in both the arcane and divine arts. And what was he doing in this time of danger? Lobbing cantrips while his companions fell around him.

Leaving the burning bottle behind, Mystir dragged Cosher further across the room until he reached Valin. Breathing heavily, he turned to the nightmare and focused on the creature.

"I may not be able to do much," Mystir said, "but I haven't missed yet." Of course, unlike most of the others who had to actually breach the nightmare's unnaturally tough hide, Mystir's spell only had to touch it. He could miss, he knew, but he found his hand unusually steady.

The wizard released his third and final Ray of Frost spell before he returned to the task of ensuring Cosher's safety. Slowly, the pair moved past Valin towards the secret door.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Pressing On.

Afyanna bit off a cry as the nightmare tore into her arm. Her training kept her from the natural act of immediately checking her wound. Doing so would only provide her enemy with an opening. She pressed on.

But worry began to creep into Afyanna's mind as she continued her cycle of feinting and lunging with the nightmare. The damnable creature had clearly fought men before - it knew how to face a familiar foe.

*I haven't hit this thing yet,* she realized. Each attack had been ineffective.

*We have damaged it before,* she knew, *and we weren't even using Sir Eric's weapon salve.*

Thankfully Tyrulf had connected with a couple solid blows, and Wyn had hit it as well. For all the damage it was doing, the nightmare DID seem to be off-balance. If only they could keep it that way. As long as they stayed in front and behind the beast, maybe they could continue to confuse it and keep it from going on the offensive.

Afyanna continued her attack. She felt it was the only thing she could do.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: Telling Blows.

Sefarlain lay unceremoniously before her upon the stone steps, motionless, but for his shallow breathing, while the battle raged on up in the main temple chamber, and amid the grunts and groans of exertion, no victory cheers rose to lift Alana's spirits.

It really was a question of attrition, this battle. Whose resources would run out first - her party members' skills, magic, and fortitude, won through many hard years of training, or the nightmare's, acquired through whatever unholy means brought into existence such an abomination to nature? Who would be stronger this day - good or evil? Philosophically speaking, in the great scheme of things she knew it made little difference, but in her personal world she cared a great deal.

*Let it be good that carries this day,* she prayed. She began chanting a familiar litany, spontaneously sacrificing the power of her prepared Entangle spell, imploring her lords to heal the fallen ranger that lay before her.

With the words came a power that coursed through her - she keenly felt it tingle every part of her body - and then it concentrated in her chest before passing through her arms and into her hands, finally entering the waiting form of Sefarlain. A slight glow could be seen in the darkened stairwell, illuminating Sef's body, but then it vanished when she heard a soft moan.

"Uhhh, umm, oh, what happened?" asked Sef, sitting up. Alana quickly relayed the pertinent facts in a single, rushed sentence.

"Timber took you down, but it's dead with your sword stuck in its eye, and now the nightmare is here and fighting us with Cosh and Brambles out of action, plus I think we're losing," she said, the hurried words erupting from her mouth. And the look on her face told Sef even more.

Sef stood up, and though sore and stiff, he was quite mobile. His wounds, some of them, were still with him, but he ignored them in light of current demands. Luckily all his wounds were treated to some extent, as if he had had time to rest and heal for several days, though only scant seconds had passed. Once again the power of divine healing would mark that day and perhaps provide opportunity to alter its outcome.

As Sef quickly bolted up the stairs, leaving Alana behind, the druid became aware of a feeling, and when she turned toward what she sensed, she could see a soft, gentle light emanating from below. It was coming from the area of the door to the vault of iniquities.

Out in the main temple, Bebe aimed at the nightmare and concentrated, uttering the words of power, and pointing at the hell horse before a streak of blue light zipped across the room just as the beast did a quick sidestep dance to avoid Wyn's lunge. Bebe had missed! Her most certain chance of hitting it, and she had missed. She felt like crud, having let down her companions.

Wyn fared no better against the nightmare, his sword merely skimming its accursed hide while moderately loud curses in the Elvish tongue filled the room to its arches. Afyanna, too, failed to harm it, though she hit it, its unholy hide would not yield to her enhanced sword.

Then a splash of blue light crystallized on the nightmare's flank - an easy target for Mystir - but the mage was already on the move as he struggled to complete his minor quest, and he bore the fallen sea dwarf to safety by dragging him down the steps. Cosher's head was held high since Mystir muscled him down by his collar, the thick dwarvish boots clump clumping down the stairs with each pull, until at last he came to Alana sitting there in the darkened area, peering further down at some soft light with a questioning look on her face.

Tyrulf danced surprisingly well for a hill dwarf, skipping and stepping with the nightmare's threats, each wary of the other, each looking for the same opportunity - an opening - as they circled one another. But Ty was running out of time, and he desperately, and perhaps foolishly, wanted to make his spell count for something once more before it failed. So he tried a risky maneuver. A step, feint, then reverse spin as he swung the mighty battleaxe. It briefly exposed his back. But the creature from hell had fallen for it and dodged away from the initial feint, but also toward the real blow, its massive body and momentum unable to alter its path once it realized what Ty had done.

But it did not pulled back, like a normal creature - perhaps relying on its unholy hide to save it - and instead, knowing it was committed, threw itself into it to ensure it could reach Ty, taking the axe squarely upon its breast, but pummeling Ty with two outstretched flaming hooves in the bargain. If it had to take it, it was going to make sure its foe did not escape unscathed.

Flames spurted from the heaving beast's chest where the battleaxe had buried itself - but without dwarven hands to hold it, the battleaxe fell to the floor with the resounding familiar crash of heavy metal on stone.

Ty had fallen, and though he had badly wounded the nightmare once again, this time it had cost him dearly. The creature screamed in pain and rage and reared up to stomp on Ty again, just as it had mercilessly stomped poor Jahar to death a few days back. Ty had earned what he had coming to him, or so one might imagine the nightmare's thinking could be so.

"FOR HERMES!" Valin shouted, letting go the shaft from the temporarily enhanced bow. Sef had just appeared beside him, just in time to see the shot, and found himself . . . impressed.

The shaft cut through the air and found the nightmare's open, screaming mouth, burying itself in the back of its throat. Instead of the nightmare coming down hard on Ty, it gagged and staggered back, shaking its head wildly, trying to free itself of the wooden shaft lodged in its mouth.

The nightmare retreated several steps, giving Wyn an opportunity he never dreamed luck would bring. Afy might have capitalized on the moment, too, but she found herself trying to reach Ty and shield him with her body from blows that now would not come that moment.

Forward, Wyn stepped and stepped again and lunged, caring not for his own safety, trying desperately to ensure his blade hit dead center so it could not skim right, nor left, but had no other option but to pierce his foe. And it did, and deeply - maybe too deeply, for the blade was ripped from his hand as the nightmare pranced backwards with surprising speed just and Wyn retreated with successively quick back steps.

*Sure, keep a loose grip,* Wyn thought, both knowing its importance but cursing the fact he didn't have a better hold of his now lost weapon.

The nightmare flew upwards and, everyone's mouths agape, they watched it violently shake and turn a summersault midair, whipping its head to and fro, until wooden shaft and metal blade clattered downward and lost themselves amid the eastern most stone pews where Brambles was hiding- somewhere, dead or alive.

Seconds passed as the nightmare floated down and fixed itself once more barely above the floor, the entire party taking that opportunity to back up toward Valin.

Afyanna, in the style of Mystir, dragged Ty back with her, and Sef had met her halfway, his helping hands adding haste to the retreat.

The nightmare's breathing was now obviously labored - its raged filled eyes and flaring nostrils still holding the promise of death for all in its field of vision.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Binding Wounds.

The light coming from below was intriguing, but its lure was easily replaced by the urge to know what was happening to her comrades.

Cosher seemed stable. He was still unconscious, which wasn't good, but at least he didn't seem to be getting any worse.

Alana turned to watch Afy drag Tyrulf back to safety at the top of the stairs. The dwarf looked absolutely ghastly. And what was even worse, he was bleeding profusely, leaving read smears on the floor. Something would have to be done about that pretty soon or they were going to lose him.

Unfortunately, she had only two Flare spells left, so healing that way was rapidly becoming scarce. She hoped any of the others still had something left to give, but judging from the way they must have been hitting the nightmare, she hadn't much hope. Alana doubted if even sacrificing both her Flare spells would be enough to save Tyrulf. She even contemplated if they wouldn't do more good when cast as the spell was intended. A sharp, blinding light in the nightmare's face might give the others the opportunity to use its guise to hit the beast again and perhaps finally finish it off.

But she couldn't very well let Tyrulf bleed to death. If only she had more resources at her disposal.

Then the light she had seen coming from the direction of vault of iniquities came back to mind. The nightmare had used the field Joree had created to trap the Timber, to heal itself. Perhaps there was something in the vault she could use in the same way. The thing she had sensed hadn't felt evil. Surely it would do no harm so have a quick peek so see where the light was coming from. She wouldn't open the door, of course, but she probably wouldn't even be able to, yet she could go down to see if she could sense any more.

But fist she went to and examined Tyrulf, needing to see the extent of the wounds, and decided she could stem the bleeding in a non-magical, mundane manner. Quickly, she expertly bound his wounds. There. Ty was safe from immediate death by exsanguination, at least for now.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: A Difficult Choice.

His remaining wounds still aching, Sefarlain had rushed to the passage opening to see for himself the scene of battle. His mind was still struggling with the idea that the nightmare was even there.

*Didn't we fight the Timber to avoid this exact situation?* he thought to himself.

His eyes flew around the room, quickly assessing the way the battle had progressed. He quietly swore to himself; he had been needed there.

The ranger had already passed Cosher, one fallen dwarf, and then spotted the second downed dwarf, Tyrulf's body being dragged slowly back by Afyanna. He gave her a hand until someone took his place. The rest of the group was standing near the entrance to the corridor staring at the nightmare.

*Two down already? How many more hurt? And I'm not at full fitness. And Alonwë's not by my side.*

His own decision was hard, but pragmatic. The party was weak, the nightmare was hurt badly by the look of it. Did they really have to keep up the fight?

The ranger quickly took his bow from Valin, nocked an arrow, and began to fall back towards the corridor.

"FALL BACK TO THE PASSAGE!" he shouted.

- Justin (Sefarlain)

PBEM Orlantia: The Grim Gnome III

Bebe looked around and took stock of the party's situation. *Yuck,* came to mind.

The nightmare was out of range of her remaining Ray Of Frost spell, which was disappointing, and running full speed into that frothing snout with only a club was not very appealing, either.

*Double yuck!* was all she could think as the adrenaline in her system temporarily fled her body and left her drained during the moment's respite they had before the next hellish charge.

Bebe, exhausted and fatigued, retreated, following Ty's carried carcass. She even took hold of Ty's collar and spelled Sef, who had thankfully found his feet again somehow. Using what gnomish muscles she had, Afy and Bebe finished carrying Ty down the stairs.

She looked down at Tyrulf's bloody and mangled body and immediately fell to her knees beside the dwarf. Tyrulf was quickly becoming her closest friend in the party since the untimely demise of Jahar left a void for companionship.

Alana had fallen to work binding Ty's wounds. Good as she was at that, it wasn't as good as magic - almost any magical healing.

*I couldn't save Jahar and I may not be able to save you, but I will try my best,* she lamented as she stretched out her hand to Tyrulf to cast the only healing magic she had available - outside of a couple goodberries she was saving.

The dull white light gave one weak pulse from the palm of her hand and quickly dissipated over the blood-covered dwarf. The Cure Minor Wounds spell was not very powerful - being just a little piece of Ehlonna's love to the world - but it should be enough to stabilize further bleeding in case Alana missed anything.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Finishing The Job.

Febriwyn flung his cloak to the side and his right hand flew within it. The elven gaze now moved from pained beast to Sefarlain. His hands hit upon the familiar grip of his oldest blade - a short sword given to him many decades back by a friend of his father's - and closed tightly upon it.

"Sef, my sword's behind the pews. It's too late; we must finish it," said the elven rogue.

Febriwyn's feet carried him away from his ranger companion and, in one swift motion, revealed sharpened steel to the nightmare.

- Febriwyn (Brandon)

PBEM Orlantia: CHARGE!

Sefarlain's words rang true in Afy's ears.

*We must fall back,* she thought. *We are injured . . . badly,* she added as her eyes flowed over the scene around her.

Then her focus fell upon the body of Joree. The holy warrior had given her life in defense of that very temple. She alone had stood before the might of evil and sacrificed her immediate heavenward ascendance to achieve victory.

The sound action would be to fall back. But seeing Joree's body swept that idea from Afyanna's mind. No. This thing had to die. Today. Now.

Fixing her gaze once again on the furious beast, their eyes met. Afyanna hefted her sword into the air with both arms and charged headlong toward the beast, closing the distance rapidly. She had no intention of backing down now. Only one of them would survive.

"IN CORELLON'S NAME!"

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: A Single Bullet.

The struggle of bringing the motionless, yet stable, Cosher to safety had caused the wizard to start sweating - something that hadn't occurred in some time - and the young boy's wet hands fumbled as he reached into a pouch and produced his sling and a single bullet while running up the stairs. Having virtually ignored Alana and the strange light down there, his mind could focus only on battle and how to reenter the fray.

Breaking free of the stairway, the slightly cooler air in the main chamber felt icy-cold and sent pangs through the halfelf's body, but he ignored them and drove them out of his mind as reached his companions in time to see the nightmare shaking free of the weapons.

With the sight of the party advancing, Mystir loaded his bullet and fired at the nightmare. There was little else he felt he could do.

*This shall be the end of this monster,* the wizard assured himself to gain confidence. *Either that, or the end of us,* his more logical, realistic mind told him.

- Kevin (Mystir)

PBEM Orlantia: Narcissistic Nightmare.

Bebe and Alana had completed what little they could do for their morbid collection of fallen dwarves. Both Cosher and Ty were stable and unconscious. Both had received magical healing, in fact, however minor.

Wounds that would have killed ordinary men either outright or through complications and infections were arrested and held at bay by the divine magics. In particular, minor, internal injuries that might have eventually brought about their deaths or permanent disabilities were the first problems such magic addressed. Such power was truly miraculous, and to be wielded by mere mortals was, for most, an awe-inspiring, humbling experience.

But that's for most. For those who were granted such power from on high, they were perhaps used to it, and for those known as adventurers, it was almost a commonplace occurrence. So, instead of staring in wonderment and shock at what had been accomplished, they took it in stride and their minds focused on more immediate things.

For Bebe, that meant rushing back up the stairs. For Alana, she felt compelled to see what had been causing that strange light below. Only a quick look might be afforded, but she would pay that price, so the monastic druid rushed down the remaining steps to see what she could see, and there she witnessed one of the seals upon the door to the vault of iniquities was glowing ever so slightly - and its illumination was now fading. It was the one belonging to her own lords.

"I wonder what's that's all about," she whispered to herself as the glow lessened and vanished under her gaze. But it was all the time she could afford. Figuring that mystery out - if she could at all - might take days for all she knew, and she only had seconds. Quickly, she followed in Bebe's tracks, first passing then leaving the two dwarves resting within the stairwell.

"FALL BACK, I SAID!" Sef screamed, while letting his arrow fly. He watched it hit a glancing, useless blow on the nightmare's hide. The beast just snorted at him, keeping its distance, waiting, obviously more concerned with the pair charging its position, bringing the battle to it and out in the open.

Sef cursed aloud, then thought, *Fools,* inwardly chastising his comrades. A large animal like that nightmare fought best out in the open, where it had room, and the fact that damnable creature could fly and turn on a button only made it that much more dangerous when it had room to maneuver. They could still fight it, he knew, but should be falling back to the narrow, more confining space of the corridor. His comrade's inexperience at combat was showing, and it angered him so much that he softly cursed them again under his breath for ignoring him.

Valin had run out and snatched up the crossbow that had been sitting on the pews. Unloaded, too. How stupid was that? The Rogue of Hermes busied himself loading the contraption as he retreated back to the corridor where Sef was again imploring all to join him.

Bebe, too, waited, daring not to venture forth once Sef's gaze fixed her in her place. And when Alana finally arrived, she also remained, waiting for instructions or ideas.

A bit more arrogant, though he wouldn't have thought so, Mystir ignored Sef's dirty look and quickly walked along the wall toward Alana's still burning cocktail, readying his sling, and looking for a shot. There! A few quick successive swings round and round over his head and then he let the sling bullet fly. Not even close. Picking up the bottle, he retreated to the corridor.

Brandishing his father's short sword, Wyn stepped up to the creature and stabbed at it. Turning the blade, the creature's hide remained unbreached. Disappointed and angry, he stared at it in wonderment how anything living could be so nearly impervious to hard, cold steel, but perhaps he looked too long. Pain shuddered through his body as he felt a hot hoof of the nightmare bludgeoning his left hip, knocking him back where he fell over the fallen Timber. In all his 141 years, nothing had ever hurt quite like that. It felt almost like it had broken his hip, and each new movement cried out and screamed at him to keep still.

The nightmare might have followed up on Wyn and stomped him again, but Afy's charge blocked it. Her momentum behind her swing, the enhanced blade landed on steel-like hide and glanced off.

*Oh great!* she thought, just before the nightmare's other hoof clobbered her in the left leg.

Dancing back in gleeful rapture while avoiding any possible counter stroke, the nightmare uttered a kind of snorting laughter. It was winning, and it knew it. Then it lazily drifted backwards and upwards, turning midair, surveying the cowering puny things beneath its own majestic magnificence. As wounded as it was, it was taking great joy in almost playing with them now - increasing their fear and suffering - almost feeding off it.

Then it began a new approach, closing ranks with those who remained standing. If its looks could kill, it would have already been over.

- JimGM.

PBEM Orlantia: Flare.

Alana took in the dramatic events. She had heard Sefarlain's warning and thought it was a sound one. The accursed creature appeared to be enjoying itself. Well, she still had something left to spoil its feast, even if it was just a little thing.

<Elvish>"BE WARNED," Alana shouted "FLARE." </Elvish> She fervently hoped the spell would be as effective as last time.

Perhaps Afy and Wyn could use it to retreat or they could use it to land another attack. Just as long as it ruined nightmare's plans, Alana would be satisfied.

- Wilma (Alana)

PBEM Orlantia: Bebe's Last Spell.

Bebe momentarily cringed at Sefarlain's burning glance. *I guess we should try to stay closer together and try for an orderly retreat if need be,* she thought, *but I only have one spell left, and then I will be down to biting its shins.*

Perhaps encouraged by Mystir's initiative, risking it, despite the insistence in Sef's glaring look, Bebe quickly moved out of the passage once more and took cover behind the pews to her left. It wasn't too far, so a quick sprint back to the stairway could still easily be managed. Thanks to her diminutive size, she had decent protection and would not be impeded, but hopefully due to the monster's size, it would be.

*At least it can't charge me here,* she hoped. Then she thought, *but there's too much hoping in my reckoning,* and chastised herself. *I'll end up as a horse d'oeuvre for sure if I don't rein in my horseplay and use a little more horse sense. I wonder what this hoofed hellion eats, anyway?* she thought, as her mind turned to her gnomish sense of humor to help assuage her fears.

Once she had secured a place behind the pews, she prayed. *May Ehlonna help me strike true,* and then she let fly her last Ray Of Frost spell. The piercing blue ray streaked from her outstretched finger towards the nightmare as the familiar words of power rolled off her tongue.

- Shelly (Bebe)

PBEM Orlantia: Fall Back.

Afyanna watched the nightmare dance away out of reach, its blurry form retreating from her as her head spun and her vision was so starred from the beast's attack that she had to shake her head to clear the cobwebs.

Her intention had been to charge the creature and put an end to it for good. Fate, it seemed, had other plans and it had escaped her. That it was unharmed from their charge only fueled her anger.

"We are nothing but targets now, Wyn," Afy gasped through pain-clinched teeth. "Fall back to the hall!"

With that, she hastily retreated to the cover of the smaller corridor, keeping the hell horse within her view at all times.

- Rick (Afyanna)

PBEM Orlantia: A Bitter Lesson.

Sefarlain watched the ongoing battle with a mixture of pain and anger. Could they not see the futility of this? They would die here and leave this beast unchecked for no real reason.

Afyanna was the first to appreciate their predicament. She called out to fall back as Sef had also done.

The elf took aim with his bow once again and retreated towards the secret entrance. If only he had Alonwë, maybe things would be different, but armed only with a small bow he had to be practical. The others would need him later.

He kept a close eye on the nightmare, anticipating a charge, and retreated as quickly as possible.

- Justin (Sefarlain)