• Closed • No Wolves Here

[Jinyel]

Someone was in Jinyel’s forest, and they weren’t supposed to be.

It wasn’t the first time, and Jinyel was beginning to suspect it wouldn’t be the last. Suspect, but not allow. Tracks had been left through the trees which did not vanish come waking and sleep again. He was no stranger to nightmares, nor to dream-deaths, but he hated how familiar these outsider-tracks were becoming.

Every invasion of his sleep only left Jinyel more incensed.

He was usually a beast of opposites in these shadowed woods, both predator and prey. But these past nights’ invasions had so often forced him into the role of prey, that now his canines were so long they hung past his lips. He could barely remember the smell of leaves or the taste of grass; he smelled only blood, heard only beating hearts, and his hooves were sharp for the fight instead of the flight.

He was a bull elk only at first glance, with four cloven hooves and antlers large enough to shadow half his back. A second glance would reveal the blood on the prongs, the long teeth, and the way his steps cut into the earth like the marks of a cleaver. He was a beast which ate meat, and tonight he was very, very hungry.

His fears and insecurities seethed in the corners of his psyche, equally unsettled by all the tracks walked amongst them. Hecrin called out to him from one direction; his horse whinnied in terror from another. Jinyel couldn’t find them when he looked, but there still came the dream-clouded sense of shepherdship. Even his most hateful nightmares belonged to him. Any slight against them was a slight against him. Any step through this forest was a step through him.

Someone was in Jinyel’s forest, and they weren’t supposed to be.

The elk circled the landscape of his dream at a fast trot that was just short of a canter. He sidled around the edges of his good and bad phantoms alike, ready to get in between them and whatever intruder had come to trespass. He kept his head low, antlers forward, and let out a keening sound in between the trumpet of an elk and the howl of a wolf ― a furious challenge to whatever had set foot here, and a warning that he would not suffer their presence quietly.

[Woe]

The voyage from Viden's shores went as smoothly and slowly as one might expect. The Frigid Main was not to be sailed lightly, yet Korm was a capable captain, and Shipley knew his business. Escur had joined them along the way and they'd purchased a ship as well as hiring a small crew to man her.

Thus a layer of deception was rendered unnecessary, they only needed to fool customs that what they were transporting was not toxins and drugs, but vital medicines for the relief effort in Almund. Korm and Shipley had handled that aspect of matters, as Woe was occupying the form of the wolf, posing as a pet of his companions, to evade getting spotted. And there was no law against taking the form of an animal, although Woe certainly wasn't licensed to use becoming magics in Videnese lands. Still, that level of deniability was important to maintain confidence.

As they sailed the Frigid Main, some distance from those shores, Woe snuggled up in his wolf form to some of the crew, to keep them warm. Thus he fell into sleep. Perhaps it was the movement of the ship, or else his distance from home. Woe found himself materializing aboard the Stellar Rain, his ship on the seas of Emea when he entered into the dreams, immediately crossing over beyond the Veil.

As he did so, his mind turned to the events occurring, even now, in the Empire. That was the great prey, the eventual behemoth that Woe wished to depose, as part of his tinkering in Scalvoris and Viden, and with Artere.

Artere was a laboratory for his meddling with the toxic experiments, to break a great being's sense of control over its subjects. If he could do that, he could bring that substance to Viden and destabilize it. From there, the Empire would be a relatively soft target, with its expansive size and territory. Not to mention the big moves they were making now.

It almost seemed too easy, to think of it in such terms. Yet Woe knew he had to be cautious, and that meant keeping eyes and ears active in all those locations. Kraig was a big question mark, as they'd parted ways sometime last Cycle. Whether Kraig had fallen back into Artere's fold or not was a mystery. He would visit him later. But then there was another wild card, one he'd encountered deep in the Sacred Forest. A stray hunter, who owed allegiance to no Empire, but lived within its borders.

It seemed a good opportunity, as he appeared capable as a case agent. Although granted that was a low bar, one only needed eyes and ears, and not to make too many waves, as well as be in a position to see and hear the right information. Still, Woe was curious.

He felt himself mooring his Stellar Rain parallel to this hunter's Dreamscape. Their association was weak at the moment. Woe had only ever encountered him once beyond their meeting as the Beast and Hunter. And that had been a useful encounter, leading to a reunion with Kraig. So the bond was slightly stronger than it otherwise would be. Enough that Woe could track him in the vastness of Emea, and find the sense of his location in that astral realm.

He shifted, Woe did, from the deck of the Stellar Rain, to the midst of a forest. It was immediately apparent that this was a Dreamscape, untouched by lucidity. The forest was convincing enough, but there was an oddness enough to it that Woe could sense the strong moorings in the Mindscapes, the images and shared experiences of mortalkind.

So as the mirror wolf, Woe stalked into the forest, seeking his prey. He would need them to be a dreamwalker, in order to be a decent source of information through Dreams. Although he could very well send messages through Pickle, it was far more reliable to send and receive them himself.

The mirror wolf stalked through the forest, taking on the coloration of his surroundings through his fur. As he did so, he picked up the scent of his quarry, and darted off to follow in its trail.

He would have to be careful, although confident of his ability to fight without weapons. Non-lucid manifestations could be as dangerous as any Emeyan being to an unprepared dreamwalker. It was part of the risk of initiating non-lucid dreamers, that prompted many not to bother.

But this was an opportunity to have an active set of ears and eyes. The Hollow Prince couldn't do without it.

[Jinyel]

There it was again, that violent frustration that something was walking within him. Jinyel kicked up his feet and sliced his antlers through the low-hanging canopy at the very thought of it, even when his challenger hadn’t yet found him. Again. Again an outling pressed at him, and his patience was already worn thin as ice in the spring.

Jinyel couldn’t see the wolf, but he could smell it. His nostrils flared and his ears pricked forward, both possessed of a predator’s senses. He caught the trail after doubling back to where his frantic circles had begun, and he spotted pawprints in the earth. He might have been an elk, but he was still Jinyel, and he was well acquainted with wolf tracks.

He reared onto his hind legs for a few steps, then slammed his front hooves down to shake the ground. His hide glittered with sweat, and his furious snort left an echo between the trees. Whatever hunted him, he hunted it right back, but with far less self-restraint. He had no lucidity to scheme or draw conclusions, not like the walker who was looking for him. In the liminal space between man and animal, the dreamer called Jinyel was frothing for the fight which had been denied to him these past three nights.

He knew vaguely when they were drawing closer to one another, by scent if not by sight. He should have been able to see it by now, he knew he should have, and that only infuriated him further. The fresher the scent became, the more he tore up the ground as he moved. He shook his antlers to strip the trees of their leaves, snorting and bellowing for the challenger to come out, damn it, to come out and fight like a challenger ought to.

[Woe]

Fortunately for Woe, the dreamscape he'd entered was filled with nightly shadows. As one might expect a dreamer who'd yet to achieve lucid realization, yet Woe had encountered a few who'd dreamt of daylight. This one clearly occupied a dark space, a forest. There was doubtless safety in that shade, especially for a hunter. It made sense to Woe, at least. Yet his nature as a hunter that used shadow as his ally would become the key to bringing down his dreaming manifestation.

From there, changes might happen to his inner world, or not. Woe only knew that he would have to shed that ethereal skin, and be born again as himself, only under the roof of his Dreamscape and the thin Veil that lay above and beyond them. Of course, Woe would be taking this hunter on as his student in Dreamwalking, it was part of the calculus certainly. He couldn't have a newly initiated Dreamwalker merely for the eyes and ears, but took on the responsibility for his safety and that of other dreamers. Ethics that needed to be imparted, ironically perhaps given his own intrusion, necessary though it seemed to the Hollow Prince. Survival skills that could be turned to the defense of his Dreamscape, against both Emeans, environmental pitfalls of his own psyche, as well as other invaders.

All of this occurred to him as his hidden eyes beheld the shadows on the other end of the Stag. He conjured illusions from those

shadows

, a row of gray and black wolves, emerging from the darkness. Their teeth flashed with red and white, as if glutted with some prey from his own dreamscape. This was intended to irritate and anger the dream manifestation, to turn his antlers toward them, so that Woe could make the blow that would strip the astral hide from the hunter's back.

He prompted those illusions to encroach further on the Stag, while Woe waited in mirrored darkness of the forest. He crouched down, venturing further, trying to draw the creature's anger with those false wolves.

Woe prompted some of those wolves to snap forward, barking and clacking their teeth furiously at the Stag's hooves. This might prompt the Stag to lower its neck, just enough, so it could impale the illusions with its massive antlers.

Then, and again if the stag repeated the motion Woe would slip into the clearing, and bite down on the jugular of the dream manifestation, tearing and ripping at the essence of the dreamer's self-mirage.

Yet he'd only spare this action if the Stag took the bait of those false wolves, snapping at his heels.

[Jinyel]

Jinyel was ready for a fight. He wanted it. He craved blood so badly that when the phantom wolves materialized to tempt him, not a single moment passed before he attacked. He spun on his hooves, spraying dirt and moss in an arc behind him, and plunged toward the gathering darkness.

The elk rushed forward with a cry tinged as much with joy as fury. With a low flick of his antlers, he scooped one of the wolves clean off the ground and hurled it into the trees. His charge carried him a dozen yards past the rest of the wolves until, with a razor-sharp spin, he doubled back and came charging again from the other direction. He kicked and slashed, cutting hooves and prongs into whichever phantom came closest.

And what Jinyel believed was real, his dreamscape made real for him.

He believed he’d scooped up one wolf and kicked another. Another set of phantoms materialized wherever he touched: dream-wolves, emerging from where he thought he’d kicked their illusive forebears. These new wolves had no obedience toward the elk or to the intruder. Jinyel knew how real wolves behaved, so these dream-wolves followed his internal logic.

Three dream-wolves emerged from his strikes, teeth bared and voices furious. They closed a full circle around Jinyel, cooperating with the fear-shades whenever possible, but more than happy to leave them behind in pursuit of their own hunt. If a fear-shade tried to stop them, they would have no qualms about fighting it in turn ― and because they followed Jinyel’s logic, wherever they made contact with something he believed should be a wolf, another dream-wolf would appear to justify that belief.

Despite the increasing number of wolves, Jinyel only felt thrill. Every new wolf was a target to crush, and an outlet for his three nights of rage. He had a lot of rage left to burn.

Specifics

The term "fear-shade" refers to wolves created by Woe. The term "dream-wolves" refers to wolves which are native to Jinyel's dreamscape, and which express the natural behavior of wolves on a hunt.

Whenever Jinyel makes physical contact with one of Woe's fear-shades, it creates a dream-wolf. This doesn't destroy Woe's illusion in any way, it just creates an additional dream-wolf that neither Woe nor Jinyel can control. The same will happen if a dream-wolf makes physical contact with a fear-shade. Both Jinyel and the dream-wolves assume that the fear-shades are also just regular dream-wolves.

There are currently three dream-wolves, but feel free to add more if you want. Jinyel is actively stomping whatever is in reach, so plenty of opportunity to create more.

Seeing the big gap in the "hunting circle," those three dream-wolves have closed up the circle by placing themselves between Woe and Jinyel, although they aren't hostile toward Woe yet. They currently believe he is one of them, just like they believe the fear-shades are also dream-wolves.

[Woe]

Thoughts raced through the invader's mind as he saw the illusory wolves get tossed on the antlers of the dreamer stag with more impact than they should've. They should've disappeared upon contact, dispelling the enchanted vision. That's how they tended to operate in Idalos. But in this Dreamscape, Woe witnessed something entirely new. It appeared his effigy had more than one consequence for the various powers. He had known he could summon Nightmares from beyond the Veil with but a taste of his fear abilities. But he didn't know that the Dreamer could simply render those shadow illusions into some semi-digested dream construct, and then fully formed as a being unto itself.

These dream wolves appeared more formiddable than his illusions, but of course they were. The illusions did no real harm on their own. But in the Dreamscape of this hunter, they appeared to take on a life of their own as soon as his ethereal antlers punctured their fading forms.

Woe had to think swiftly, to devise a plan for these devils. He thought it was only he and the dreamer here, and that would have been easy enough to finish and deal with. Yet, his fumbling with Kuvarakh's power had spawned this new dangerous pack of creatures. Woe could only guess what they were capable of.

The Dream stag seemed eager for the fight, and so Woe retreated just shy of tearing into his neck from below as he stalked under him. He scurried off into the rear of the dream wolves' lines instead.

Then he merged with his own

shadow

, forming the large, branching horns of the Kutzeldaur as well as its wings. Yet he remained a wolf even with this change. The Dream wolves did not yet pin him as a threat, as he made no offensive move against them.

His mind raced with the incredible potential for learning more of the Dreamscapes, through the use of his effigy. Yet he dared not leverage his ether for communication with the wolves. Yet perhaps... since the Dreamwolves were a part of him formerly, as shadows, perhaps they were merely shed from his own manifestation. Perhaps he could wrest control of them, to a point.

So he tried willing the wolves, communicating non-verbally with them, to command them to encircle the Stag. He didn't know if it'd work. By Cierel, he didn't even know if they'd take it as a hostile act. What he did know, is if he tried to initiate his hunter now, while the dream wolves still threatened him, it might endanger him.

Woe didn't want to be responsible for that. So he took a longer view of the situation, trying to communicate to the wolves as only he could, to encircle the stag and cut off any form of retreat.

The shadow wolves each in their turn were dispelled for their nuisance, only for a new dream wolf to take the shadow's place. Woe's glowing green eyes flared in annoyance.

Shit. Nothing for it. He growled, Encircle the prey! He tried to direct the wolves, becoming as their alpha.

The dreamwalker needed to know to what extent he could control these things. In the meantime, the Stag could damn well take care of itself with those razor antlers.

[Jinyel]

Jinyel killed one wolf, and two more took its place. He threw one into the trees, and two more came out of it. Though he didn’t fear the rising number of wolves, it did thoroughly irritate him, in the way he might be irritated to wash all his dishes only to turn around and find that not only had they all gotten dirty again, but somehow the pile of dirty dishes had doubled. Eventually the fear-shades disappeared and stopped creating duplicates, but that still left him with seventeen wolves. They had clear intent to harm him, but even clearer intent to stay alive and away from his sharp hooves and antlers. That was the difference between prey-fear and predator-fear: the fear of a predator was cautious. It had to kill well, and often, and couldn’t afford to walk away from any injury which might slow it down or fester to illness. The predator would always walk away from a fight if it thought the cost was too high.

The fear of prey, though, was absolute. The prey never thought in the long term, or about what injuries it might risk if it fought too hard. The prey would break its legs and neck for the chance to strike its hunters down, because it knew there was no long term. The predator’s choice was to fight or go hungry today. The prey’s choice was to fight or die today.

The dream-wolves expressed this natural behavior, staying too cautious of the furious elk to wander into striking distance. They paced, the glanced nervously amongst each other, but none of them braved a bite.

Until the intruder’s command.

The entire dreamscape paused. Because the wolves were products of Jinyel’s subconscious, the command passed through them to the entirety of Jinyel’s subconscious.

Encircle the prey!

The wolves stopped circling. Jinyel stopped raging. For a moment, they all looked at each other in confusion.

Then, as one, all of them turned to look at the intruder.

It wasn’t a challenging look. None of them took the command as a threat. He was the alpha, after all, and it was perfectly reasonable for a pack of wolves to have two alphas in form of their mother and father.

After a befuddled staredown, the dream-wolves shifted to accommodate this knowledge. Since this intruder was their alpha, that meant he was also their father, and antlers materialized from the night to decorate all of their heads. A few of them even began to sport wings.

Half the antlers mimicked the intruder, and the other half mimicked Jinyel.

Because the command passed through his entire subconscious, Jinyel was perhaps the most affected by it. He accepted the command, and although he was still very annoyed, he knew that his anger was a personal affair and that the survival of the pack was more important. The wolves arranged themselves as the intruder’s offspring, and Jinyel did the same, albeit taking the role of the eldest son and therefore the forwardmost point of the hunting party.

Jinyel turned, letting out a chuff to scold his younger siblings. They had spent too long wrestling; there was game to hunt.

The wolves fell into step, the elk at their head, the intruder at their rear. Because Jinyel did not see himself as prey, the command removed their ability to see him as the same. But they were all subject to the task of “Encircle prey,” and without any prey to encircle, they were now subject to the task of “Find prey.”

The dreamscape shifted again to accommodate them, and Jinyel picked up a scent quickly. He called out, ears forward, and picked up the pace to a gallop.

Specifics

There are now seventeen dream-wolves. All of them have antlers, and half of them have wings.

Jinyel remains in the form of an elk, but Woe's command has reprogrammed them all to percieve and treat Jinyel as the oldest sibling of the pack, second in command to the alpha.

They all recognize Woe as the pack alpha, and therefore assume he is their father. The youngest, silliest wolves will stick as close to Woe as possible, and perhaps obstruct him by attempting to play.

Jinyel has just picked up the scent of prey and is leading the pack into a swift run.

[Woe]

This... was an unexpected development. Yet not unwelcome. Woe dare not try to contend against this dreamer in his non-lucid state. He was obviously possessed with a powerful connection to the Mindscapes, and beyond that with a powerful imagination. Woe had not met a dreamer who could command such changes upon a moment. But clearly this hunter was not like most that Woe encountered in dreams.

Whatever the cause for his powerful command over his imagination, the hunter was on his side now, and Woe wasn't inclined to allow him to remain as the focal point of changes in the dream. They had a small army of wolves at their beck and call now, and it should remain so, if Woe only stabilized the dreamer. He needed to become lucid.

Woe had prompted Seira to become lucid, by summoning a Nightmare from beyond the Veil. Thus he knew what he had to do, foolhardy though it may be. He let out the

terrifying breath

of Kuvarakh from his maw, engulfing Jinyel's dream form. Before the stag had a moment to react, it felt filled with the terror of the grave.

A great wolfen creature emerged from a breach in the Veil above the skies, landing down somewhere in the forest. It howled, sensing the ether of magi, it had come to hunt, and be hunted.

But Woe had no intention of risking the dreamer himself. He'd already overstepped the ethics of Dreamwalking several times over in this dreamscape. He began changing, reforming his flesh. Bones and sinew and ethereal flesh alike popped and crackled with unearthly ease in the Dreamscape. Fueled by the direct connection to Emea, the magic went faster than normal. Until he stood as Blanca, the white-haired biqaj woman that Woe had made a totem of in Yaralon.

The Duplicity suit provided a bit of clothing for her, a flowing robe with trousers that allowed free movement. She conjured weapons for herself a blade and a bullwhip, and the archer's implements for Jinyel, from the surrounding

shadows

if he needed.

Her own weapons were

imbued

with the poison of Kuvarakh.

"Dreamer! Wolves! Welcome. We must destroy this Nightmare beast." She took a deep breath, and frowned, "This is no ordinary nightmare or dream, what happens here will carry on in reality. Be careful, and let it come to me. Find a vantage point to take aim at it..."

This said, the wolfen creature suddenly sensed the expenditure of ether, and was drawn to it with voracious hunger as the wolves encircled Blanca to protect, and provide a slow-down against the colossal wolf.

Blanca waited, and watched. She would stand in defense of the dreamer, and draw off its ire. It was part of why she'd used the magic, but also because the wolf couldn't very well wield a whip as she could.

Specifications

A Nightmare beast has been drawn to Jinyel's Dreamscape. Oh NO!

This means that Jinyel loses his Stag form and becomes himself and instantly lucid. Congrats, you're basically a Dreamwalker, but the injuries suffered now are very real and have consequences. You can have Jinyel spawn with the equipment he carries if you wish, otherwise Woe will provide him with shadow weapons to his preference. Feel free to have Woe conjure those for him if you'd rather have those than Jinyel's own gear.

Since Jinyel is now lucid, his manifestation is no longer able to dictate or conjure alterations to the Dreamscape. It's more or less locked, but there's a dangerous beast here, and it can hurt them and their pet wolves (but no further emeyan beings/constructs will be conjured now that Jinyel's state has stabilized within the dream.)


The Nightmare beast is a moderate Emeyan, with the following features:

Skills: Strength: 76 (master), Combat: Unarmed: 76 (Master) That's it.

Abilities:

Minor abilities:

Bestial (Colossal Wolf)
The Emeyan has many of the characteristics and the appearance of a specific kind of beast. While it doesn’t have to be exactly like the beast it’s based upon, it takes many of the defining traits of said beast. An Emeyan based on a wolf may have the snout and fur, or be entirely wolf-like. Taking Bestial means that the beast has enough defining characteristics based on the animal that they are easily identified by it. The beast specifically resembles an uncannily large wolf with a thick furry hide.

Natural Weapons
Note: Razor sharp antlers, teeth, and claws.

Major Abilities:

Extreme Biology (Colossal Size)
An Emeyan possessing this trait possesses a biology that defies all reason. They may be entirely made up of stone, crystal or metal or even partially be composed of them, or have several of their organs replicated or replaced by others. Any other beast would not be able to survive with this type of biological make-up.

Supernatural Sense (Senses mages and ether)
Note: Does not possess “Keen Sense”.
This Emeyan possesses a sense of a supernatural kind, the likes of which is difficult to otherwise replicate. Whether it’s the ability to see the movements of Ether, see through invisibility, see through solid walls or objects temporarily or feel the subtlest of movements and tremors in the ground or air around them… The sense manifests in a dramatic and powerful way.

[Jinyel]

As the pack found their quarry, several things happened to Jinyel in quick succession.

First, a panic filled him the likes of which he hadn’t known since the first moment he was enslaved.

Second, the sky itself opened above the forest. There was a screech of imagination being torn in half, and then another wolf descended into the fray ― a canine bigger than any animal Jinyel had ever seen. It towered at the same height and length as most houses, to the point that Jinyel could have stood underneath, reached as far above his head as he possibly could, and only been able to brush its underbelly.

Three, by seeing that, by knowing that, the threads of unconsciousness were pulled from his eyes. He blinked, and he understood. He blinked, and he was awake without waking.

He had become lucid.

Four, he was no longer an elk. He was a wiry young man, wrapped in scuffed and torn leathers, knife at his hip and bow and arrows at his back.

Five, there were seventeen real, actual wolves still surrounding him. They balked at the enormous Nightmare, and the younger ones looked to Jinyel for guidance on what to do.

“Dreamer! Wolves! Welcome. We must destroy this Nightmare beast.”

“Oh. Well. Fuck me, I guess.” Jinyel was surprised to find his voice clear, and although his tongue was still long and mutated, it didn’t hinder him.

That bit of knowledge was set atop the enormous pile of Things To Deal With Later.

For now Jinyel drew his bow, and found it already strung. He reached for his arrows, and found his quiver full. He didn’t know how effective they would be against an animal ― a whatever it was ― of that size, but at least he wasn’t running naked at the thing.

Woman. Stranger. She possessed a whip and a blade, which also didn’t seem like they would be especially effective against whatever this was, but at least she had something.

Hadn’t Jinyel seen a whip like that before?

Nope, onto the pile of Deal With It Later.

They were surrounded by forest. The beast’s shoulder stood as tall as plenty of the trees. Wait, didn’t Jinyel know this forest? Didn’t he know that outcropping, and that stream, and that deer path?

Was this the Sacred Forest?

With slavering maw, the beast loomed closer to the woman. She stood her ground, and Jinyel could not fathom how she possibly intended to defend herself with a whip. He listened to her words, in the same way he listened to the wolves and scanned the ground, but standing there seemed the most foolish thing for her to do.

Jinyel stood a ways from the left side of the beast. He put an arrow to his bow, waited for the Nightmare to take its next step, and shot into the thing’s right foreleg, the opposite leg from where Jinyel himself stood. It was a truly enormous target, nearly as broad across as a whole deer. It probably wouldn’t be slowed by a singular arrow, but it would surely give a sharp bite.

As the Nightmare looked to its right side in search of what had harmed its right foreleg, Jinyel circled back around behind the woman.

“That way!” he called out, pointing deeper into the forest. “The Headquarters ― the Imperial… the castle. I think there’s a castle that way. Move!”

[Woe]

Woe stood foolishly indeed before the apparition, yet this was the role she'd chosen for their battle. To draw the beast's attention from Jinyel, in order that he might destroy the source of danger in his own Dreamscape. Woe wasn't sure if she even could kill the beast as a product of Jinyel's imagination in part, but knew that she could distract and wound it enough to make it vulnerable.

She dodged to the side, her boots finding purchase on a large tree root vaulting onto a hillock with a leap. As she did this, her hand snapped in a gesture toward Jinyel, summoning her

shadowy wings

as a body part,

solidifying

them, and then

sending

them toward the dreamer to catch him in midstride.

As he felt the wings attach to his back, the contact made communication that much simpler. Woe sent the concepts in short bursts. "Flee, castle or vantage for a shot. Both? I provoke wolf."

As she leapt over the hillock, the creature's teeth snapped after her, but the wolves were not idle in this. Woe communicated her need to them, and had them sent against the danger of the creature's jaws. She only had seventeen of the beasts, and their loyalty wasn't all but assured even in this. But she had to forestall any harm to herself or Jinyel. If the sacrifice took the seventeen constructs, then so be it. They'd make their stand at the castle, as Jinyel said.


The wolves shrieked and howled and bayed at the threat, one snapping at its hind quarters, another catching on its head, bravely being impaled by its antlers and immediately dispatched, reduced to nothing but ethereal flesh for the Nightmare to feed upon. The other worried at the colossal wolf's front paw, halting its progression as Woe made distance between herself and the beast. Heading roughly toward the south, but trying to keep the shot open for Jinyel to send arrows.

Yet their attacks were short lived as the Nightmare shook them off, abandoning those small wolves for a greater prize, the mage that had just fled. It's jaws snapped forward, as it came after her.

Woe spun low to the ground, sending the whip's lash back at the creature's neck, finding purchase there and radiating with sharp force to flay the hide. It shrieked horribly, and howled in pain, yet its jaws catch on the whip, tore it out of Woe's hand and destroyed it.

It would take a moment to conjure a new one, or repurpose the sword in her hand. But for then she took the pause to gain more momentum back toward the Castle.