They'd made excellent progress. All the wraiths had been taken care of, and all that remained were two of the nightmares. Farish heard the request Jerakea made behind him, turning and seeing through the bushes bits and pieces of his demonic form. He was about to respond when the sound of thundering hoofs came up upon him. The boy hadn't time to turn around again. The instant he felt the drop in air signaling an oncoming assault he reacted on instinct, bringing up a small barrier on all sides to protect himself and the sprite resting on his shoulders. The barrier protected him from the blunt force of the impact, but the hell-born creature resisted the natural backlash of the spell and kept pushing. For once, the special quality of his favorite spell worked against him. The magic had to reverse the impact, or else it would have to be dealt to him, so as the nightmare's attack was pushed back onto it, without it budging, it was Farish who was sent reeling back.<br/><br/>He made impact against the trunk of a nearby tree. His barrier remained intact, but momentum still had him take some damage. Small tears welled in his eyes as his head thumped against the wood. Pain. How long had it been since he'd felt that unfriendly sensation? He didn't like it. Actually, the injustice of being injured, when he'd gone to lengths to avoid hurting others made him... mad.<br/><br/>A small barrier at his feet, so when he kicked the ground it kicked back. An unnatural jump placing him above the offending creature. A small barrier, in surface area, pushed out to protect from farther away. And an unsuspecting nightmare being forced a foot and a half into the dirt, its cervical vertebrae shattered. How's that for blunt force trauma? Chizu yipped excitedly as the flesh melted unnaturally fast from its body.<br/><br/>"Go ahead and heal him, Chizu," he muttered in common, sending the Sprite to answer Jerakea's request.<br/><br/>--------------------<br/><br/>Morgana loved travelers. She loved the lonely roads they walked and the precious things they carried with them. She loved them as some of the greatest prey a thief could ask for. Today, and for the two prior, she was searching for her fortune in the Goblin forest near Methodin. Granted, she was not so much looking for living travelers as for dead ones. She expected several had thought themselves strong enough to travel these woods, only to perish, leaving those shiny bobbles simply lying on their corpses. Well it wasn't of any use like that, now, was it? The demoness thought it would be perfectly fair to confiscate them.<br/><br/>Also, though, she enjoyed scavenging in less populated areas. She could make a quick and easy silver in cities, but the pressure was always there to maintain her human form. Also, she took more pleasure in fighting (from a safe and entertaining distance) for her gold. That being said, she was in a natural half-state, common among demons who used their human forms often. Her horns and wings were showing, her eyes were orange with slitted pupils, here tail was showing, and her fingernails were long and sharp and claw-like--but the majority of her physical structure was human enough. She would never be mistaken for one like this, but it didn't send them running as quickly. They stuck around plenty long enough to be robbed of their lives and valuables.<br/><br/>Now, as she searched for her quarry, the scent of death wafted to her nostrils, and she breathed it deeply. She smiled to show her dainty fangs and turned in the direction of the scent. Her confusion began when she was close enough to hear the sounds of battle, and she crept stealthily forward to observe. The smell of death had not come from travelers, but from the rotting and skeletal presence of nightmares. Her luck had not run so dry, though. For the nightmares were being engaged by travelers.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FF0000">"I'll take them out while they're distracted by another foe,"</span></span>she whispered, crouching in a tree and pulling her drawstring to her cheek. She loosed the arrow, aiming first for the fair-haired human with the blades. He looked to be a ranger, so it was better to get rid of him before she was noticed.<br/><br/>As she loosed the arrow--a straight and true shot-- the final nightmare moved in to attack the same target, and her one-chance surprise attack planted itself firmly into the abomination's posterior. The ebony equus lost focus, and turned to determine the source of the insurgent insulting it. Her only probable ally in this situation had just become a sitting duck. Morgana cursed vigorously under her breath and pondered whether she could take this group on now that her presence was known. But perhaps she could manage another sneak attack, if they thought she'd meant to help them...