Inequivalent Exchange affects your roll. Your roll a 20 (required 10). Critical success‼
 
You step in to rescue Rocket Rush. With a quick spin around, you throw a powerful kick aimed right at the beast’s head, hoping to daze it long enough for her to escape.
 
As magic begins to trail from your hooves, you feel a sudden surge of power course through your entire body. The impact sends a blinding flash bursting forth, blasting your foe with an explosion of bright red magic.
 
The nightcrawler is obliterated on the spot, its entire corporeal form dispersed like smoke in the wind, and its glass teeth scattered harmlessly on the ground.
 
A pause. Then, slowly realizing that you are victorious, your party hurries to Rocket Rush’s side to check on her.
 
Rocket Rush: “I’m all good! Thanks to you. Whew! Did you just dispatch a nightcrawler? Just like that?”
 
You admit that you didn’t expect your technique to be so effective, and that were lucky it even worked at all. Then, as you help her up, you decide to ask how come she and Justice know about these nightcrawlers.
 
Justice: “They’re the same monsters who plague Midgard at night, hence the name. I was surprised to come across one of them out here, at first. But now, the more that I think about it… hm.”
 
Rocket Rush: “What, you think it followed us all the way here without us noticing?”
 
Justice: “No. More likely, they made it to Midgard from here. And as much as I don’t like the implications of that, I’m starting to suspect there’s a lot more not to like about this whole situation…”
 
The rest of your travel is thankfully uneventful. After roughly another hour’s walk southward, you begin to see flashing lights on the horizon.
 
Rocket Rush: “Well, that’s new. Is that where we’re going?”
 
Justice: “Let’s hope so. I don’t expect a place called the Banished Lands to have a welcome sign.”
 
As you get closer, you start hearing what sounds like a raging thunderstorm. Red lightning bolts streak erratically across the sky above hundreds of floating islands, each shackled to another or to the ground by gigantic metal chains.
 
In the islands’ shadow, a wide rugged fissure leads down to vast expanse of stormy waters. Among a few rocky stacks is what appears to be a ship made of stone, unmoving against the crashing waves.
 
Moonflower: “Ooh! Look over there! Is that the statue we’re lookin’ for?”
 
On the stone ship’s deck, you spy the immobile silhouette of a rearing pony. There seems to be no obvious way down the crags, about two dozen hooves deep, nor across the tumultuous waters below — let alone a way back up.