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- This player has won the following TBT Scummy Awards:
* Currently none.
- Firestar's nightmare is as good a place as any to begin, as he was surely one of the most legendary heroes there ever was, if not too perfect. His fire abolished darkness more times than I could count in a single night, and although I see protestation on the tongues of some of you ShadowClan kits, he did indeed save all the clans from total destruction not once, but thrice. Astronomical, he was, a gift from great StarClan themselves. But even if Firestar was a blessed wonder, not even he was safe from the treachery of his own mind. Now, his worst nightmare came as quite a shock to me. I never expected him to fear what he did; it was an unusual thing to be scared of, though I've no doubt the agony was unbearable. The dream came to him on a leaf-bare's night beside the Highrock, back in the old forest. It wasn't long after the battle with BloodClan, so it was expected that a cat who'd just gone through such a terrifying ordeal would have intensified dreams, but it unnerves me to think of this particular one. Firestar was, at first, simply relaxing in his den. He had become ThunderClan's leader very recently, so the bittersweet scent of the previous leader, poor Bluestar, still lingered in the musty air. Sometimes it made him feel quite sorrowful, remembering how the battered she-cat fell into a deep, maddened depression after her angry children denied her. Other times, it comforted him, as it felt like her energy was still near, coaching him as a mentor and protecting him as a warrior. Tonight he just felt nervous. He shifted awkwardly in his nest; the moss had recently been replaced and cushioned by the apprentices, but he still was unable to get comfortable. The way Spiderpaw and Shrewpaw had fitted the pieces of bedding didn't seem right, so he thought some tossing and turning might flatten it out to his taste. And so he did, for hours upon hours through the night... but that's a terribly boring part of the story, so I suppose I'll skip to the part you kits have been waiting for: When he finally stilled long enough to dream. Firestar was running through pitch blackness, colliding with objects completely invisible in the darkness. He was calling a she-cat's name. "Spottedleaf!" He gasped, leaping towards the beautifully dappled medicine cat, who stared at him with wide green eyes. She was far, far away, a smudge of tortoiseshell fur in the colorless distance; no matter how fast Firestar ran, Spottedleaf never came any closer. She was always tauntingly out of his reach. The faces of dead warriors flooded the darkness around Firestar, hundreds of horrified eyes, hundreds of shuddering bodies, and hundreds of gaping mouths crying out to him. Amidst their pleas, his possessed legs followed his love through the sinister shadows of this Stygian dimension. Come back, Firestar! Came the terrified mew of Bluestar, an anguished sound he'd heard in her final moments, as she plunged into the rushing water below. Firestar trembled visibly in his fur as Bluestar's bodiless head floated past his eyes. You'll never make it... don't abandon us to the blackness, my friend! screeched another voice, this time tarnished with the rust of many years, and it was a rasp he knew best on the tongue of Yellowfang. True to form, her scarred head was the next to follow Bluestar's. Go not to Spottedleaf, young leader. Whispered a voice so strong and wise it could only be that of Lionheart, the massive tom who was Firestar's idol prior to his heartbreaking death. What you find there will only hurt you. Several more pleading mews rang in his ears, and with each shriek, another bloody face flashed before his eyes. They called, and yet his legs refused to turn. At last, Spottedleaf grew closer as he ran. Firestar's pace slowed, and whatever entity had bewitched him into the wild chase seemed to have released it's icy grasp. His knees buckled under the sudden weight of his body, as the thrilling adrenaline he'd felt melted away like a snowflake upon a burning stone. Spottedleaf's green eyes blinked curiously as she stared at the exhausted Firestar, who now lay, panting, on his belly. "You've come a long way to find me." She said, her meow softer than a swan's feather. "I'd never let you go, Spottedleaf." Firestar said, shakily standing to his paws. He touched noses with the lovely medicine cat, relishing her flower-sweet scent. "Even if I had to run through all eternity, it would be no match for my love for you." The affectionate gesture lasted but a moment, when a sharp, scornful laugh rumbled in her throat. "Precious; but sadly a ridiculous sentiment." Spottedleaf said harshly. Firestar jerked his nose back in surprise at the cruel sounds, and he felt his heart beat with true fear when he saw the mocking in his sweetheart's gaze. "If you've really come so far in the name of love, then I'm afraid you've wasted your breath for nothing, you immature fool. I've found someone else." "...What?" Firestar felt dread crawl over his fur and bite down hard. Spottedleaf tossed her head nonchalantly, impervious to the apparent dismay on her love's face. "Don't look so astounded, Firestar." She drawled scornfully. "What were you expecting? That I, Spottedleaf of ThunderClan, would let past love sway my choices now? I don't belong to you. I don't love you. I don't even care for you." She leaned in closely, as though to lick his ear, but only a chilling breath escaped her mouth as she uttered one savage word: "Kittypet." It was when Spottedleaf emitted the brutal sound that Firestar felt long, piercing fangs jab into his scruff. Fangs that felt hauntingly familiar in his skin, like they had been there before. Their jagged shape and deadly curve, Firestar realised, were unique to one cat, and one cat only... "Hello, Kittypet crowfood." She had found someone else. Dark red blood rushed through Firestar's head, washing away his thoughts and tormenting his mind with a breathtaking pain. He tried to pull away from the shadow warrior, but the razor-sharp teeth only burrowed further into his orange scruff. The snakelike agony pulsing through his veins was biting at every muscle, scraping every bone, cutting like Scourge's claws once did. Firestar managed a pitiful mewl before falling back, helpless. Tigerstar's purr was malevolent, maniacal. Deeper than Spottedleaf's, but just as nasty. "Never thought I'd see this day. The hero kittypet, trembling in my grasp like a newborn kit. And how appropriate that his precious Spottedleaf and all of ThunderClan are on my side." Somewhere in the foggy world, familiar voices jeered, Firestar's name as their object of scorn. Tigerstar chuckled with the laughing clan, the vibrations sending more flashes of pain through his captive. "Just face it, Firestar, you'll always be a laughingstock. Your bravery will always be remembered as defeat. And those you love will always walk with me in my paradise of darkness." His voice seemed closer than ever as he whispered his final words into Firestar's ears. "Why don't you just give in?" Firestar squirmed violently in the warrior's jaws, crying out feebly into the mist. "No! Spottedleaf! SPOTTEDLEAF!" That's right, kits. This is when the mighty ThunderClan leader woke up, as safe as safe can be. There is something to be learned from all this, little ones. Yes, I know it was scary, but it had a deeper meaning than just the fright. Huddle close, you all must hear.
- Nightmares is a fleet officer in the crew Anthrax and a member of the flag Outcast on the Sage Ocean. He will Swordfight pirates on the Sage Ocean. After temporarily leaving the ocean, he came back and joined Anthrax (previously known as New Wave) on the first day of his return. He quickly became a pirate, then he worked to be an officer, and was proud to become a fleet officer. Nightmares stopped playing Puzzle Pirates but now he's back with a new flag Notorious. He is currently a pirate, retraining to be an officer.
- Nightmares are the primary monsters the Oneiro Rangers have to face.
- The DVD was released by Anchor Bay Entertainment in 1999 and has since gone out-of-print.
- "Okay! We all know the plan right?!" "I-I don't know...doesn't this sound a little to edgy even for him?" "He suggested it!" "Yes but." "Trust me with this." "Alright then"
- Nightmares are the undead destrier mounts used by the Vampire Counts of Sylvania. Unlike most mounts, the nightmare is not a creature of mortal flesh and blood. The steeds of the Vampire aristocracy are unnatural destriers, some Nightmares are the carcasses of dead warhorses, brought back to life through necromantic magic. Though their flesh is withered and their skin pocked and rank, these mighty steeds are infused with Dark Magic and can easily bite or kick a soldier to death. Other Nightmares are sorcerous constructs of sinew, bone and metal, empowered by magic.[1a] The most impressive Nightmares are those born out of defiled flesh and bone, reared on fresh blood until they stand tall and proud. Their shadowy flanks shimmer with magical energy, their eyes glow like hot coals and their hooves burn with a coruscating magical flame. Smoke snorts from a Nightmare's flaring nostrils, carrying the stench of brimstone and decay. These beasts are often clad in heavy barding or wear caparisons of rusting chainmail, and spiked barding on their bodies to tear at the flesh of their foes. Some Nightmares, known as Hellsteeds, have been known to soar across the moon-light sky with wings of leather and bone.[1a]
- Nightmares are fiendish and dastardly creatures created by Sheit, the Cynos of Nightmares to terrorize the populace of your Patria. However, challenges do have their rewards, you may gain treasure from defeating such nightmares.
- Nightmares are enemies that first appear in level 7 of Sandman.
- Nightmares is the twenty-fifth episode of VR Troopers season 1.
- Nightmares is the fifth story in Warcraft: Legends Volume 5.
* Written by Richard A. Knaak.
* Art by Rob Ten Pas.
- Ten months after the Fall of the Scorpion Clan Coup. . . Around her, the forest crackled and twisted, turning every step into a shout. Even the greatest hunters cannot be silent in Kitsune Mori - unless they are one of the spirits who live there. Branches creaked overhead, but their noise was no more than a greeting to the young samurai-ko that moved beneath them. Her footfalls caressed the dry branches, the crackling leaves, and yet the only sound that escaped was the soft sigh of the wind. Kitsune Mori was her home. "Follow your own path," Shinsei taught, "Or you will fall into the pitfalls left behind by others." The forest sounds grew thicker, heavier in the dusky twilight. There was not much time now, and soon the night would cover all paths and blur all ways. The forest would sleep - but the spirits of the kitsune who lived there, would awaken. The sword hung at her side, slung across her back by a thin cord of her own hair. It, too was sleeping. Her dark red-brown hair, a rarity in Rokugan, hung thickly about her face, pulled lightly back with a forgotten piece of twine. Once, it had been dyed black, but the walnut stain had lessened over her long journey, and hints of its true color gleamed through. Green-brown eyes, their color reflecting her heritage, shone under the knitted brows. Her fingers were slender, but calloused from use of the nagamaki she carried, and her sleeve bore the mon of the Fox. "Ryosei," the wind whispered, and the vines beneath her feet shivered. She took another step toward the ancient grove, and the trees shook again. "Ryosei..." This time, the voice was audible. The samurai-ko stopped, peering through the brush to her left, and saw a white flash. With a faint smile, the daughter of Kitsune Gohei, daimyo of the Fox, knelt on one knee in the forests of Kitsune Mori and awaited the spirit's message. It was small, as spirits go, darting from bush to bush in a near-frantic attempt to stay hidden and yet carry its message to her. "Stop, Ryosei," it snarled softly. Red ears pricked behind a thornbush, and the flash of a whitefurred breast shone through the vines beneath an ancient oak. "Stop." The kitsune spirit shivered in the shadow of a pine tree, leaping across a fallen branch in its excitement. Twilight deepened. "Greetings, honorable one," Ryosei nodded politely. "I salute you with blessings" She reached into a small bag tied at her waist in order to pull out one of the sweetened candies there. "Take this, and let your daughter pass" But the kitsune ignored her, staring to the west as if in fear. Its foxlike nose quivered once, then the too-bright green eyes of the spirit turned again to her. "Please... stop." A howl pierced the night, keen and clear, and the little kitsune leapt away, twisting its body in midair as if caught by a snare. Ryosei stared after it as another howl rang out, then a third. A fourth. The small one barked sharply, stared longingly at Ryosei as if to speak more, and then, as a fifth howl rang out only a few steps from their side, it fled into the forest with a broken sob. Fox feet scrambled at branches and leaves until the spirit vanished into the underbrush, lost to the forest and to its pursuers. Ryosei stared in shock as the forest moved around her. For an instant, she was frozen, and then her nagimaki was in her hand. Four more kitsune stepped from the brushes, one lifting its head in a long howl of remorse and woe. The eldest one, the largest, had patches of silver behind his graying ears, and one green eye was dulled with age. Seeing her, the others paused in their chase and the hair on their hackles raised in tension. Ryosei slowly lowered her weapon - these were spirits, after all - and carefully bowed to the kitsune. The spirits nodded, and the three younger foxes looked at each other with narrowed green eyes. "You are Ryosei-chan?" the elder barked gently, though he knew the answer. "Hai, Genkuro-sama. On a mission for my father... to complete my gempukku" Though she looked younger, Ryosei had seen sixteen winters, and the spirits of the forest had run with her from the day she was born. The old kitsune nodded. "Do not let us disturb you, child," he sniffed. "We hunt a traitor" "Traitor. . . ?" "Iye" The old fox refused her question. "This is not the business of mortals" The other kitsune began to sniff the air, catching scents as they passed in the wind. "You will not be allowed to interfere... indeed, as we are not allowed to interfere, ourselves." With that, one of the kitsune howled, catching the scent, and the pack moved. Genkuro, the gray kitsune spirit, paused. "Mark this day well, childling," he whispered before fading into the trees. "And remember... dreams are truths." With that, the path was silent again, and Ryosei knelt alone in the brush of a chilly evening, more aware than ever of the lack of sun through the trees. Shaking her head slightly at the strangeness of the evening and the enigmatic words of the ancient kitsune, Ryosei stood and placed her nagimaki back in its carrying sheath. Then, with a sigh, she leapt into a jog down the twisting forest path. Her father was waiting, and she must not be late. The grove of Inari is one of the most sacred place in Fox land, a place where the ancient kitsune spirits first approached her ancestors, bringing words of peace and gratitude. The branches of the grove spread open before her as Ryosei stepped into the clearing, and the bitter smell of lantern-oil tinged the forest air. "Father?" She murmured, moving forward again. "Here, daughter" Gohei's voice was as brittle as pine, and his age covered his face with deep wrinkles and liver stains. He nodded his head politely as Ryosei knelt and formally bowed, and his dark eyes shone with anticipation. Two foxes turned toward her, startled, and fled through the trees. As she murmured words of respect, Ryosei caught a glimpse of their eyes. Brown. These were simple forest-beasts, nothing more. Not that she should have expected the spirits to be here - the kitsune had never been close to her father, for reasons Ryosei did not understand. "I have completed my task, father," She said proudly, as she had the night before in the audience hall of the Fox Clan. "I bring you the sword of our ancestors, so long lost beneath the mountains of Otosan Uchi, hidden in deep caverns and behind guarded paths" And, as he had asked, she had come tonight to present the weapon to him privately, a task set from father to daughter to honor the blood between them. Ryosei withdrew the weapon from its saya, laying it upon the ground in homage to the ancestors of the Fox. As she did, the wind began to whisper, and the trees shook with sudden fear. "Lost..." Kitsune Gohei murmured, kneeling to accept the blade. "For nine hundred years, hidden. Since the time of the First War against the Dark One, the ancestral blade of the Fox has remained hidden from the light. Taken by the Emperor, the Shining Prince, son of the first Hantei, to honor our path as Shinjo's children, it was reforged at the hands of Togashi Nyoko, and its hilt is bound with the silk woven from the Kami's own hair. And then, lost to us for nine hundred years." His hands shook as he ran the palms over the smooth black cords that wound around the hilt of the katana like a thick web of darkness. "Stolen by the Scorpion." Ryosei completed the tale bitterly. "They needed it." Gohei stood, carrying the blade as if it were a treasure greater than life. "And now, in this time of darkness, they need it even more." Ryosei looked up at her father with the question clearly written on her fine features, but he paid no attention. With a gentle hand, he placed the sword atop the carved white fox statue of Inari that served as a low ritual table for the grove. "The hilt, wound with the hair of a true Kami... where better, to hide their secrets?" Gohei's hands unwound the silk reverently, pausing as his old hands shook with the failing disease of an ancient man. "Where else...to protect their lies?" From her stance at the edge of the grove, Ryosei saw the silk fall away from the sword's hilt in soft patches, rotted with age but still gleaming and fine. Beneath the silk, the soft, carved wood frame of the tsuka began to show, and beneath that...The wind tugged at her clothing, and the earth's deep fastness shivered faintly beneath her feet. Ryosei squinted in surprise. Beneath the wooden tsuba of the katana's hilt, a scrap of black paper had been wedged. As Gohei began to slide the tsuka free, Ryosei could see the metal tang of the sword's blade, wrapped within a scroll of strange black paper. Paper made out of a sheet so thick it could have been taken from a man's own skin... "Father..." Ryosei said, standing as the wind began to whip the trees and tear at the earth beneath her. "Father what are you doing?" "Immortality, child," he laughed, holding aloft the scroll. "You have brought me immortality... and I am seizing it!" His howling cries echoed through the grove, and the ancient katana fell to the ground, its blade's sheen darkened by dirt... and by Gohei's own blood. "I call to you, Yogo Junzo... bearer of the Scorpion's honor... betrayer of the light... I call to you, Fu Leng...Ancient father..." he chanted, and Ryosei's screams were battered by a bloody wind. "Father, no!" She screamed, reaching for her nagimaki and staggering as the earth beneath Kitsune Mori shook the forest with a pounding blow. "You cannot do this!" The ground steadied, then bucked again, and her weapon flew to the ground as she fell. "And with your blood, daughter," the creature who had been her father turned toward her, but his brown eyes had become cavernous, hidden like cysts in a face of ruined tissue and swollen muscle. "I dedicate this sacrifice to the Dark Lord!" The sword of the Fox, a steel tooth with no hilt, shone in one hand as the scroll began to unroll upon the broken back of the white fox table. "Fu Leng. Make me your walking horror, to rule the night at your command. Give me immortality!" The last word was a high-pitched scream, swallowed by the night and the roar of wind. As the Fox Clan sword raised above her, the earth shuddered and rolled. Trapped on the lip of a tremendous chasm, Ryosei could not move, could not roll, could not escape the downward plunge of the blade. She saw her father's maggot-infested hand shake once more, and then he screamed again. This was not a scream of triumph, but of rage. He turned, grasping at his back, and Ryosei saw the reason her life had been saved. A small kitsune with a gleaming white breast, hung by its teeth from the side of Kitsune Gohei's throat. Blood poured from the wound, and a savage blow of lighting reflected in the green eyes of the spirit creature. "Run..." Ryosei heard it yelp, as her father's sword tore into its side and threw the kitsune to the ground. "Run!" Another lurch of the earth threw Ryosei to her knees on the far side of a rapidly widening cleft. Her father screamed in outrage, lifting the sword again, and again, stabbing into the heart of the kitsune at his feet. Knowing she could not win the battle, the daughter of Gohei fled into the woods, reaching for the ancient oaks to give her shelter from the blood and the storm. Morning parted the clouds, and a ray of light spilled onto Ryosei's face as she sat suddenly up from her sleeping fouton. The palace of the Kitsune seemed strangely quiet after the night's festivities, and Ryosei remembered the gay laughter of her gempukku ceremony. Images flashed through her mind as reality... kneeling before the court, seeing her father's proud congratulations. Could it have been a dream? Her muscles began to relax in relief, as she turned to look at the ornate sword-stand on the low table. It was empty. Beneath it, in a small and bloody pile, lay the skinned pelt of a white-breasted fox. "Dreams are truths" The ancient kitsune's voice rang in her head. "And we are not allowed to interfere." Ryosei knelt before the bloody pelt on the floor with reverence, bowing her head to the kitsune's courage. "I know that you cannot interfere in my destiny without penalty, my kitsune brothers," Ryosei swore, "But I can seize the future... and change it to my own" "One day, I will find you, father... I swear that I will."
- Nightmares are an evil force that seeks to exterminate all of the Dreamkeepers. Although so far their motivation for doing so is still unknown, their methods are brutal and insidious.
- The statistics for a Nightmare are the same as those of an Animate Dream with the following changes. Nightmares possess the evility Dream Hunt, meaning that 1/2 of the damage dealt to sleeping targets is healed to the Nightmare as hit points, They also possess the evility Mind Shackle, meaning technique slots used around Nightmares are doubled. Nightmares possess the technique Drain DC:19 usable 3 times per day, Chaos Swarm DC: 21 usable once per day, and a Nightmare that reaches 18 hit dice or more gains Nightmare usable once per day.
- "Nightmares" is the tenth episode of the first season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and is the tenth episode overall. It was directed by Bruce Seth Green and written by Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. The episode originally broadcasted on May 12, 1997. The residents of Sunnydale are in a dilemma when their nightmares start to come to life.
- A nightmare is an unpleasant dream. It usually manifests with feelings of fear or horror, but can also manifest despair, anxiety or sadness. A person having a nightmare will usually awaken even from a deep sleep and will often suffer a bout of insomnia as a result. In the vast majority of cases, nightmares do not indicate any pathology and are perfectly normal. They may manifest themselves with minor pathologies such as uncomfortable sleep positions, fever, stress or anxiety. They can also be the result of digestive problems, particularly having a large meal before sleep. Frequent or recurring nightmares can cause ongoing insomnia and may require medical help to deal with the underlying cause, which is frequently psychological. However, they can be the result of both physical illness and difficult to treat mental illnesses such as post-traumatic stress disorder. Treatment can focus on dealing with underlying disorders, or teaching the patient techniques to deal with the nightmare, including psychotherapy and desensitization. See also night terror Nightmare at Wikipedia.
- Nightmares are midnight-black horses with flaming eyes and hooves. Sightings of nightmares are rare. The largest number of them seen in any one place are the keep of Rabindrinath in the Dream Realm, where he keeps a couple in his stables. They are all hostile. The only sight of one in the waking world are in the Mountains of Freedom, where one is kept as a pet (possibly by the mad sorcerer Lorthondo). The nightmare is described as a 'treasure and daemon in one,' and also as male (indicating that either not all nightmares are mares, or that the writer of that particular letter knows nothing of equine anatomy).
- Nightmares are four different types of NPC during the Treehouse of Horror XXVI Event in autumn 2015 that give event and crafting currency to get prizes once tapped. Those are "Zombies", "Snakes", "Bunnies", and "Skeletons." They appear on the streets of the Player's Springfield and their Neighbors' Springfields.
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