ORIGIN - [Event] The Trial of Hydra

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TRIAL OF HYDRA - DARKNESS

ROUND 3 - CHOICES

The cave felt... empty. It held a hush, something unholy yet sacred, and it was as standing in a library: speaking, noise, felt wrong. The words of those offering advice or encouragement seemed to fall flat. The murmurs and whispers of the rest felt too loud. Every step across the sand crunched in their ears. And above it all, lacing the near-silence with disturbing unease, came Pumpkin's distressed twittering.

The shadows closed in tight around them, their small, moving pool of light unable to pierce any further outward, though Black's magic held the shadows just a little bit at bay. Icy air danced along their skin, prickling through Sora's raised bristles. The slivers of wisp-light flickered and danced across the sand, as though something were blocking it, here and there: unnatural shadows flickering through the group, the edges of the light ragged and uneven. Yet for a time, there was only cold, dark silence, the motes of dust drifting through Hydra's air. Gradually, the sand grew soggy underfoot: quiet crunching gave way to sucking squelches as they began to tread into the Dead Marsh.

It all felt so interminable that the sudden shift was all the more abrupt: the shadows dipped just a tad, and suddenly, Elyon and Rainstorm were swallowed by it. They would feel as though they were being dragged, suffocating, cold: as though ice were rapidly clawing over and through them. Yet there was nothing to see, or fight--and just as quickly, Fireheart and Black were able to rescue them. Elyon and Rainstorm would find themselves back in the safety of the light, among the rest--but scratched, bleeding... And in turn, Fireheart and Black would be swallowed by it, dragged back, suffocating, cold, torn... Mayngo was nearly taken, too, but Kin-yotl and Warrior would be able to drag him back just in time, with no wounds taken.

In a heartbeat, then, the trudging cold and silent darkness had given way to chaos: and just like that, Fireheart and Black were gone.

The Gembound were left with a sudden, stark choice: to press on with the wisp, to value survival above all else and leave the fallen behind to die; or to press back into the darkness in an attempt to retrieve Black and Fireheart before their deaths. Their Baubled items and magic might allow one mad rush to try for a rescue, but it was a dangerous risk.

_______________

Elyon and Rainstorm may post their attack and rescue by Fireheart and Black, respectively.
Mayngo may post his near-loss, and rescue by Warrior and Kin-yotl.
Fireheart and Black may post rescuing Elyon and Rainstorm, respectively, and then being dragged into the darkness. They are not yet dead, but will be knocked unconscious, and may die soon after, so their posts should be written as though it is their last.
Warrior and Kin-yotl may post rescuing Mayngo.

Everyone except Black/Fireheart then has a choice to make. They may choose to press on and stay with the wisp, or to attempt a rescue on Black and/or Fireheart. The former choice is a relatively safe one; the latter is dangerous. Gembound should note, after their posts, if they are:

- Pressing on
- Attempting to rescue Black (REQUIRES A ROLL ATTEMPT)
- Attempting to rescue Fireheart (REQUIRES A ROLL ATTEMPT)

@Pumpkin @Owlface @Orenstein @Rainstorm @Kini-yolotl @Simon @Styx (Mango, Hera) @Morganite @Charles @Puck (Usingizi, Quartz) @Nassir (Howl, Elyon) @Warrior (Black, Fireheart) @Sora @Ifrit @Anemoi

Warrior was near the back, trudging along with a quiet trotting. The flopping, walrus-like cat-creature addressed him--a good point about the Eyehooks. He glanced to her, and nodded, blinking. "That's a good point--hopefully, you're right. Just watch out for the, uh--the spiders, and the scorpions. The blue spiders--don't look at them," he advised. He was about to continue, but something about the unwelcoming silence suppressed him, and he fell quiet.

Once or twice he offered a quiet word of warning--as when they crossed into the Marshes, and he called out in a soft tone for others to watch their feet, and taste the air with caution--but when the attack (if it could be called that) came, it was so abrupt that he hardly had time to respond.

He was at the rear, shepherding the group, when Elyon vanished from beside him. The white wolf streaked past from the flank, lightning-fast, so he had hardly an instant to react: and then he saw Mayngo, just ahead, a sudden ficker--a trick of the light--seeming to snatch him away.

Warrior bolted forward, eyes springing wide, his magic still active, Mayngo's red-traced outline still quite visible to his senses--and grabbed for him, long desert-stallion neck sweeping down, square teeth snagging for the fossa's pelt in an attempt to help drag him back into the light.

When all was said and done, he looked around with trembling limbs and flaring nostrils, breaths coming quick as widened eyes searched the group. His stallion instincts prompted him to run a quick count on the little would-be herd, and he snorted in alarm. "We're missing two," he said, his voice tight. "We're missing two! The black--creature?--and the wolf!"

Warrior turned, bolting back at a gallop for the missing pair.

horse stock: colourize-stock.deviantart.com

Warrior is attempting to rescue Black.

pumpkin followed the group, his breathing unsteady as they passed into the marsh and his twittering only barely quieted, things felt wrong.

he let out a shocked twitter as black and fireheart dashed into the darkness to save 2 others, worried about all of them, horribly terrified. he wanted to help. he was weak, and small, but he could try his best. with a deep breath, he flew back into the shadows.

he twittered as he followed the faint light fireheart gave off, squinting, but barely able to locate him, pulling at his ear "lets go, lets go" he whispered as well as he could

PUMPKIN is rolling to save fireheart

The Black Dog paced stoically along the outer edges of the group. He did not speak a word, for a time: did not complain, or advise (he knew nothing of Hydra to offer advice on). But he found, quickly enough, that the shadow seemed to snarl along at the edges of his magic. He'd attempted to keep it at bay as best he could, but it was difficult, and after awhile his rumbling voice broke the silence.

"The Void would consume," he offered, his words rasping and hollow, but offered no explanation for this. No; his mind was half-elsewhere, fighting off the myriad whispers that laced his footsteps. Though to anyone else they were unintelligible, to him they whispered promises and secrets, urged him toward conflicting actions, and warned him of dangers both real and imagined. It was difficult, constantly trying to pick the truth from malice, and he fought with this constantly.

It did not help that from time to time, true darkness engulfed his vision. Where the others trudged on, Black would see only Void, for a moment: it was difficult to remain in the light when it periodically seemed to extinguish.

He left a trail of blackened sand behind him: tainted, corrupted, its grains shifting with dark glints in his wake before settling into a scarred path. And it was along this that he looked back, when he felt the sudden surge of shadows: when he saw Elyon, at the rear, and Rainstorm, the little bird, both vanish. He lurched into motion with surprising speed: the pigeon was closer, and so he lunged for her, claws raking the sand as he leapt out, his magic briefly tearing the shadows from around him.

Furred fist closed around some part of the little bird, and then he'd hurled her back--thrown her bodily into the wisp-light... and then darkness closed around him.

His magic hissed out, the wisp-light--and the group--abruptly vanishing from his sight. He was alone, in the darkness: and though he had always felt that he was the darkness, and so did not fear, he found that he was... choking.

Unable to breathe, as some malign force sucked air from his lungs to replce it with what felt like ice; bitter cold clawed at him, tearing beneath the cloak, dragging him down.

The Black Dog staggered, halberd twisting in his hand, and he fought to drive the shadows away with his magic. Was this what the fortune-teller had meant-? That if he drew away the darkness, it would consume him, in turn-? But there was no more room, or time, for thought: that corruption that always lurked was rising up with the shadows, or so it felt, an all-consuming darkness dragging Black down, and away.

It felt as though he were drowning, and suddenly the pain felt distant; the ice-cold wounds numbed, and his consciousness began to fade.

He loped on in silence, large snowshoe-paws carrying him easily enough across the shifting sands, and then into the muck of the marsh. Rounded ears rotated, catching every eerie sound, every drifting echo that felt as though it did not belong. And as his flameglow eyes searched the edges of the shadows, he found himself thankful that Hydra was cold, this night. Thick fur coats were not good for desert heat. He wondered how Nassir was faring; a glance over at the leopard showed his form, sleek onyx, its dappled rosettes barely-visible in the wisp-light. The leopard's muscles showed beneath the pelt, and Fireheart opened his jaws to ask if anyone needed warmth--Nassir in mind, of course.

There was a sudden scattering of chaos, then--a vanishing figure here, and there, hard to keep track of but the flurry of movement had his adrenaline spiking, his head rising and turning. He spotted Elyon just as the shadows swallowed her, and he darted back, slender legs and solid muscles propelling his canine form in a lightning streak through--and into--the darkness.

"HERE!" he bellowed, fiery eyes bright in the shadows, Baubled chain bright around his neck. He attempted to seize Elyon's arm in his teeth, jaws clamping firmly, in an attempt to swing her around him in one sharp motion back toward the group. She was larger than him--so much larger, too heavy and too strong to move but perhaps if he could simply show her the way--

He felt himself dragged back, and down, abruptly. Elyon was gone. The group was gone. The light blinked out, his Baubled chain and ember eyes suppressed abruptly, as if a blanket of pure darkness had been thrown over them both. And then there was no air in his lungs, a bitter cold encompassing him, tearing at his flesh...

The white wolf barked, hackles already in a waving carpet along his back, fangs clacking at the air as he roared a challenge, as he roared defiance--but he felt, then, as though he were falling.

As though everything were suddenly very far away; and for a moment, Fireheart could not remember where he was, or why it mattered at all.

It was like a horror movie.

Morgan had looked around to see everyone present, their heart heavy with nervousness, and on their second look, two of them were gone. They'd gasped and watched as two of the bravest shot out to go save them, and hunched a bit to protect Simon, the hairs on the back of their neck bristling. Then... Pumpkin flew out.

"PUMPKIN- NO!" they shouted, taking a step forward, only to remember the others.

Should they go out and save Pumpkin? Or save what they had left?

They clenched their teeth and pressed their face into Simon's coils, hoping to whatever kind deity was out there that their Pumpkin would return. She cared not if they failed, so long as their wings were strong enough to fly back. Please.

"No one else go out," Morgan said, nearly begging the others to stay put.

One life was already too many.

MORGANITE presses on.

Talking, like Kini had planned, began to feel... difficult, for whatever reason. Not physically blocked, just inexplicably incorrect, gut-wrenchingly wrong. So against its better judgement, Kini would stop. Luckily they still had Orenstein and Charles, who might not have been so susceptible to such a feeling; they were loud and talkative, and always positive. Perhaps they would be fine, keep talking, keep telling everyone where to be.

The darkness twisted tighter, and Kini swore it could feel its heart pulsing madly beneath bone, muscle, and skin. Its herbivore instincts began to kick in, its eyes darting around the perimeter of the wisp's light madly until it could find something overtly wrong. Unfortunately for Kini, its eyes were that of an ocelot's, better for finding the prey than the predator. But fortunately for Kini, luck was on its side; at least, for now.

It caught, by chance, the few plucks at the wandering morsels that the darkness had made. Those sudden absences made Kini want to scream, but something told it not to. By one glance, one chance, Kini managed to catch the darkness aiming for another just in time. A white horse, the one advising them like a tour guide, was there as well. Kini would also reach out to drag the fossa back down. It seemed they would succeed.

And then apparently two more were gone. Kini did not like that, not one bit, and as it tried to find a way back to Morganite's side, it heard Morganite shout about-- about Pumpkin. No. No. NO. NO!!! NINE, NINE TO PROTECT, NEVER LESS!! "PUMPKIN GET BACK HERE IMMEDIATELY!!" Swiveling around wildly, Kini was able to catch Pumpkin, that feisty, foolish bird, deliberately leaving for the screams in the dark. "PUMPKIN WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP!" Kini loved Pumpkin, it did, with all its heart. That's why, despite the silence trying to suffocate Kini's screams, its voice erupted still. And that's also why it could never let Pumpkin do all the crazy, reckless things he wanted to do. Pumpkin was overestimating his abilities, especially now, when he was going up against an enemy he couldn't see or stop! All Kini wanted him to do was learn his limits, fall back, survive. They all needed him to survive.

And now Kini had a choice. Morganite was going onward, keeping the others safe. Pumpkin, the beloved fool, must be going for someone out there. If Kini helped him... could that save him? Would Pumpkin be alright? Could Kini trust the abilities of everyone else to save him? But it wasn't a matter of saving Pumpkin; it was a matter of saving the taken one. Would Kini-- should Kini try? And risk losing everyone else to a darkness they couldn't stop?! But Morganite was here... but-- fine. If Pumpkin was in any peril whatsoever, if that darkness thought it could harm Pumpkin at all, then it had another thing coming.

When it was needed, Kini would be there. But for now, it had to make sure-- it just had to make sure.

KINI is pressing on.

It wasn't long before Rainstorm felt themselves being pushed into the shadows. By what, the bird didn't know. What they did know, though, is that the shadows were pulling them in, and there was nothing. Nothing in sight, no air. Nothing to breathe. Just as they felt themselves getting closer, a paw moved forward and shoved them out of the darkness, the blue bird skidded across the sand and back into the light the wisp provided. Right wing scratched and bleeding, the bird looked around.

Only to see the one that saved them get shoved into the darkness too.

Rainstorm would have helped. They would have. But something felt wrong with that stuff. Something really did. They couldn't bring themselves to try and help the canine - instead forcing themselves to move and carry on with the wisp.

Rainstorm is Pressing On

The silence was nearly suffocating, yet every sound felt like they were just begging to be caught. His gaze flickered left and right, trying to keep track of everyone within the shifting herd crammed under one small light. He was tense the whole time, waiting for whatever bad thing was about to happen to happen.

And when it happened, oh boy did it happen.

Chaos all around them as two, nearly three of the others were dragged into the shadows. His head whipped around, trying to keep track of everything yet simply getting overwhelmed by it all. It was all he could do to keep moving.

Who's caught who's safe Is that blood? Who's attacking is it the darkness? I can't see anything I wish I could see better.

Kini and Morganite shouting through the chaos was what he was able to focus on.

Pumpkin? Where is he I can't find him. Wait is he in the dark? oh no oh no oh no.

They whipped their head around, looking for their bird sibling and seeing nothing.

I gotta find them I gotta find them I gotta find them

He'd reach out for his magic again, attempting to sense the surrounding magic like they had before, hoping they'd be able to find Pumpkin or the creatures attacking him.

OWLFACE is pressing on

It felt like they were in danger of being swallowed at any second—and then some of them were. His ears flipped forward and he gasped, stopping, almost taking a step forward but others were faster. It all happened so fast. The baubles came back but some were lost in their place.

Pumpkin flew out—and Ifrit immediately felt himself lunging after, stretching a long neck and—

"As a group!!" he urged, a quick glance back to his family—his family, of all creatures!—as they pressed onward. "As a group!! If we save them as a grou—"

But he had gone too far, and he felt his voice catch in the cold. Again, he tried to swell his magic within him, grasping onto its fading warmth.

"It we go together..." he whispered into the chill, seeking Pumpkin's glow and finding Fireheart there. The eyes... the eyes, like his. This was who they belonged to. Without much more thought, he craned his neck around the wolf and tried to pull him back into the group.

Attempting to rescue Fireheart (and Pumpkin??)

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