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"It seems that Zhengyi's book will protect itself," Mariabro
"Protect itself while it does what?" Wingham asked, his teeth chattering from the jolt.
All four exchanged concerned glances.
"I think it is time for me to ride to the Vaasan Gate," Mariabro
"Past time," Arrayan agreed.
Mariabro
"My horse is stabled in the city," Mariabro
"Just follow," he instructed. "To all our benefit."
When they arrived at Wingham's wagon, the old half-orc rushed inside, returning almost immediately with a small pouch.
"An obsidian steed," he explained, reaching into the leather bag and pulling forth a small obsidian figurine depicting an almost skeletal horse with wide, flaring nostrils. "It summons a nightmare that will run tirelessly—well, at least until the magic runs out, but that should be long after the beast has taken you to the Vaasan Gate."
"A nightmare?" came the cautious response. "A creature of the lower planes?"
"Yes, yes, of course, but one controlled by the magic of the stone. You will be safe enough, mighty ranger."
Mariabro
"Just say 'Blackfire, " Wingham told him.
"Blackfi—" Mariabro
"Speak it not while you hold the stone, unless you are ready to be ridden yourself," the half-orc said with a chuckle. "And please, do not summon the hellish mount here in my camp. I do so hate when it chases the buyers away."
"And eats more than a few, I am sure."
"Temperamental beast," Wingham confirmed.
Mariabro
"Discretion, I beg," the old half-orc pleaded.
Mariabro
"She began it," Wingham said, and he glanced back toward the city as if Arrayan was still in sight. "Perhaps she is feeding it with her very life-force. The good of all might weigh darkly on the poor girl, and she is without fault in this."
Again Mariabro
"And the cost of our own souls for making that sacrifice," said Wingham.
Mariabro
Wingham glanced back to the north again, as if expecting to see a gigantic castle looming over the northern wall of the city.
"That would be wise," he whispered.
Just south of Wingham's wagon circle, Mariabro
The flames flared higher. Mariabro
They leaped to greater proportions, whipping about in the evening breeze, and gradually taking the form of a horse, a life-sized replica of the figurine. Then the fires blew away, lifting into the air in a great ball that puffed out to nothingness, leaving behind what seemed to be a smoking horse. The indistinct edges of wispy smoke dissipated, and a more solid creature stood before the ranger, its red eyes glaring at him with hate, puffs of acrid smoke erupting from its flared nostrils, and gouts of black flame exploding from its hooves as it pawed at the ground.
"Blackfire," Mariabro
He reminded himself of the urgency of his mission, and he moved slowly and deliberately, fully on guard and with his hand on the pommel of Bayurel, his renowned bastard sword, a solid, thick blade enchanted with a special hatred for giantkin.
Mariabro
Soon he was galloping the fiery steed hard to the south, the shadows of the Galenas bordering him on his left, the city of Palishchuk and the Great Glacier fast receding behind him. It was normally a five-day journey, but the nightmare didn't need to rest, didn't let up galloping at all. Miles rolled out behind the ranger. He took no heed of threats off to the side of the trail—a goblin campfire or the rumble of a tundra yeti—but just put his head down and let the nightmare speed him past.
After several hours, Mariabro
He found that Wingham's estimation was a bit optimistic, however, for he felt the weakening of the magic in his mount as the eastern sky began to brighten with the onset of dawn. No stranger to the wilderness, Mariabro
Mariabro
The ranger reco
He awoke soon after mid-day and immediately went to the figurine. It was not yet fully recovered, he recognized, but he understood implicitly that he could indeed summon the nightmare if he so desired. He stepped back and surveyed the area more carefully under the full light of day. He glanced both north and south, measuring his progress. He had covered nearly half the ground to the Vaasan gate in a single night's ride—thrice the distance he could have expected with a living horse on the difficult broken ground, even if he had been riding during the daylight hours.
Mariabro
He made the great fortress, again without incident, just before the next dawn.
Recognized and always applauded by the guards of the Army of Bloodstone, Mariabro