"I had no idea what it was we faced, at first. I struggled to recall old tomes that had talked of such creatures. Not having the liberty of time to ponder, and seeing a creature befitting a Reaper himself I had little choice but to call upon knowledge long-learned and saved against dire need. I called forth four eldritch glowing bolts of mixed immaterium and momentum. I could only happen that the secrets I had unravelled from the Dragon's corpse would render them strong enough to save us all as I sent two at each monster."
The first bolt from the wizard finishes the beast. But as if he can't stop himself, he rains down three more missiles just to make sure.
As the first hell mare falls, La Siréene moves ahead to the front of the party, , and waits for the hell mare to attack her, intent to give it a nasty suprise.
"By Abadar! A Nightmare! Just as Marcus described it in his Compendium Daemonica!"
Caromarc thinks for a second
"Let me see... It flies, has planar travel, you already know about the choking smoke. Supposed to be sentient - speaks Infernal and Abyssal."
"Hang on - we could question it!"
La Siréene looks to Caromarc.
"I was about to immobilize it. If I succeed, I could compell it. You'd have to tell me the words, though."
"I can translate"
That's right - a nightmare! Should have known that one. Perhaps it wasn't so wise to go undercover in that drug ring in Taldor.
"Master Caromarc, you forgot highly aggressive. Pray that La Sireene can immobolize this creature before I launch my next volley." The Zen Archer Monk grabs another 3 arrows from his quiver.
The remaining nightmare shoots the horse a menacing look, rises into the air, and gallops in a slow curve, hooves beating against air, as it crosses the stables to where Blackacre and La Siréene are standing and makes ready to attack.
As the beast draws close and spreads its foul smoke, La Siréene steels herself, and stands her ground in the visage of the hell mare.
As the Nightmare stands over her, La Siréene takes her chance and lashes out with her Dazing Touch power.
:
Blackacre gasps, retches, and doubles over, the noxious smoke too much for his acute senses to bear.
Quinn takes a 5 foot step to location AK-28 and shoots off a volley of arrows.
Flurry of Arrows #1: Crit miss, confirmation
Flurry of Arrows #2:
Flurry of Arrows #3:
Damage from Arrows 2 and 3
The Zen Archer releases a steady stream of arrows towards the new target. The first arrow misses it's target wide but the monk re-adjusts and hits with the last remaining 2 shots.
The girl reaches out to the nightmare's muzzle. From the tips of her fingers...a blinding flash!
Rays of light pinwheel before the monster, constricting its temples. The spell travels like an injection deep to its nerves. It can't gather its mind to move or even put up a struggle.
The nightmare winces as the arrows hit. Its eyes, blank without pupils, stare down the policeman and smolder in anger.
Blackacre, stumbling and woozy, shambles around the nightmare . Holding back breakfast, he calls on Ragathiel to help him strike down this foul creature , and raises his blade for another strike.
Blackacre's sword blossoms with what looks like a wax rose, the melted edges are like tentacles, with an indent in the middle resembling one great big eye. It absorbs into the blade.
The weapon heaves towards the nightmare, but in Blackacre's sickened state, it is not enough to damage it.
I want to reach the Palomino... but cannot ignore the immediate threat. Perhaps I will be less useless. Move around the choking cloud and by Ianez to flank the beast.
Round 2:
Perhaps it's Sandru's reassuring presence by his side that lifts his spirits, but Ianez' next blow is more accurate.
At the end, it's the half-orc and bard working in tandem; they close in on the foe, swinging their blades, and bring its intrusion on your plane to a bloody conclusion.
Quinn sees the NIghtmare go down and is pleased at everyone's performance. He pulls forth some more arrows and begins to spin, looking for another threat to reappear from nowhere.
La Siréene looks at the fallen hell mare. "Perhaps I wont compell it. That works, too."
All said and done, La Siréene walks over to the Palominio, healing it with a charge from her wand and checking up on its health, watching for anything irregular.
There appear to be no other threats in the stables.
The Palomino is wild and skittish because of the recent terror. After a few moments, it quits stomping around, receives the heal from the wand, and is soothed by the care. It nuzzles La Siréene with its nose and gives a friendly snort.
La Siréene makes a strange, guttural, inhuman but strangely calming sound, similar to a cat’s purr, as she soothes the Palomino. Then she leads the horse into an empty pen, never straying out of its line of sight. She gives it a friendly pat, and closes the pen around the calmed Palomino, returning to the group.
"The poor thing. It is evidently not safe as is. What can we do for it?"
The horse turns slowly in its pen, nudging bales of hay. It is ill-at-ease surrounded by all the dead horses. Its dark eyes have a look both eager and endearing.
Your party has done a good, selfless deed.
I know it is senseless, the horse will die anyway... I can feel something, a burning... water well up into my eyes. I blink it away. Must be that hell-smoke.
How much can they be in control if the creatures attack their places? I don't like it.
"Amazing" Caromarc mutters to himself "Marcus writes of seeing Nightmares hunting Lions. We took down two in seconds."
Shaking his head Arasmes continues
"You are right, Sandru. I fear they meddle in mysteries their minds do not understand, overconfident their instinctual arcana will allow them to succeed. They may well have called up that which they cannot put down."
"The best thing we can do is try to continue our mission quickly, Master Sandru." The manservant says, resting a hand on Sandru's shoulder and talking to him quietly. In an even quieter - and somehow more human - voice it continues.
"But perhaps if it is to die on this awful night, we let it die free? It is safer here than running free, but it is also trapped, helpless if attacked."
Quinn goes by the horse and rubs the side of its face. "I, for one, do not wish it to be caged like an animal. I think we should let it be free, away from this evil place. The further away, the better the chances at survival."
Quinn then goes by these two horses from hell and removes his durable arrows from the bodies and those that went far and wide.
Do you think the hell-hides are worth something... or can be used for something?
The bodies of the nightmares fade as they return to the plane of evil.
I move to Blackacre, offering him some water. Sit, here on this bail of hay. We will wait until you feel better.
"It may well be that the nightmares were called up as mounts, and were left to their own devices once their task was complete." Ianez quickly scans around the stable, looking for emblems of any sort on tack, carriages, and the like. "Earl Caromarc, I'm not familiar with the petty nobility of the city. Would you recognize any badges or coats of arms?"
Blackacre moves briefly to resist Sandru's suggestion, then slowly nods his head and lowers himself onto the bale.
Hareton returns to the stables. "Guys, is it weird that the house is so silent?"
"I'm reasonably confident I can, though it is difficult with the recent profusion of elevated nobility."
The Earl looks at Hareton
"Now that you mention it, Doctor, it is a bit surprising. I would have expected a victory party - or at least the sound of an ongoing magical defence."
The writhing tendrils swarm towards Caromarc, emitting a faint bubbling sound.
"That's a good point, Elspeth, but I'm just not sure you should"
More bubbling noises
"Very well - I'll ask our companions."
Caromarc turns to the group
"Elspeth has volunteered to scout out the house. She points out she's probably the best at infiltration at the moment, and should her shadow be killed we should be able to save her corporeal form from death long enough for her sentience to return. I'm not sure though - how valuable would advance intelligence on the situation at the house be?"
La Siréene considers this for a moment.
We know nothing. To know if we may enter, at least, would be valuable. I support no scouting beyond that.
As soon as Blackacre is OK, I go in... If Elspeth can stay ahead.
"Ok 'Pork Chop'. Just like before." The monk offers a playful wink at the half-orc.