Damn it; the Book of Demons had cost him a whole bag of gold and so far all it had been good for was lots of late night reads and jerking off battle against the Tar'oth. Aaralon decided that this was a chance to put it to a better use and summon the Nightmare, besides, he really wanted to find out who had written the love letter.
Aaralon climbed back out of his bed and pulled off his pyjamas. It was cold and he could feel the goosebumps on his skin. Fortunately the components for the ritual were all fairly mundane - in fact, as Aaralon read, it was possible to summon a Nightmare by mistake - and he only had to lay a few bowls of water down around his bed and place suitable offerings for the demon horse between them. The mage then linked his magic through the offerings, completing the ritual and then crawled back into his bed.
Aaralon was fast asleep with in minutes.
Sleep. The restful embrace of sleep. It was a warm, comforting darkness and a darkness with the sound of hooves. Glowing red eyes regarded the sleeping mage. Aaralon, naked still, reached up and grabbed the Nightmare horse by the mane, "I am your master for the night." He jumped up and straddled the demon's back. Aaralon knew that this time his summoning had been successful and he knew that the demon was waiting for his first instructions.
He had a decision to make. Where should he ride the Nightmare to? |