[Quest] The Training Dungeon - Natural Caves

Clothes were not an entirely foreign concept to Richter. Though not overly common, some Gembounds did value fashion, donning such examples as capes, necklaces, or armbands. Garbed himself in a cloak, out of practicality more so than style, he certainly couldn't profess ignorance of the topic. Nevertheless, this didn't grant him instant recognition of the curious constructs he'd managed to discover within the water. Sniffing at them, eyes quizzical, he turned the sandals around in his paws. Then, in a spectacular misinterpretation of their purpose, he fitted them over the aforementioned appendages and experimentally smacked their soles together.

"Huh," he mumbled before catching Hrimfaxi's next question while clambering out of the drink and lumbering back to the point where the tunnel began branching. "Softer? It's, ah, it's a matter of perception. How something feels when you touch it."

Sandal still crammed onto a paw, Richter rubbed it against his head while puzzling over how best to explain further. "Y'see, soft means that it has give when you press against it. Could be pleasant, could be not, but what matters is that it doesn't resist too much against a push. So stone wouldn't be soft because you'd hurt yourself if you press too hard on it. Coincidentally, you call stone hard because of all that hurting potential. And, say, moss—that'd be soft because it doesn't stay firm when you poke it."

"You ever seen moss?" He remained conversational and unworried by the many routes to choose from up ahead. With all this vegetation, there was bound to be moss in many of them to show his chipper horse friend if they didn't understand what he referred to. "It's real squishy to the touch. Absorbs water well too, so it's always good to look for if you're thirsty and can't find anywhere to drink."

A candy-red glow catches her eye from between all of the lumps of algae, glittering and sharp against the darkness. The hooked claws of her free hand scrape away the slippery green coating tying the object down, and then jar it loose from the silt that's nearly overtaken it.

A few shakes get the worst of the waterbed's grasp off of it, and Ryoto blinks widely as she turns it over and over in her palm, watching the glow become dimmer and dimmer— then she holds it up to Yvan while he extracts his own special find, and blinks again as the glow flares back to full brilliance.

Her lips sprawl, then, into a cheeky underwater smile. A Yvan detector!

Tugging him toward the surface, she gasps for a breath of stale cave air to noiselessly giggle with, holding her new detector closer to him and watching the glow become brighter, and then dimmer as she pulls it back toward herself. Such a good new worry-thing, and a light for the path ahead.

The path ahead, which she steps onto without much thought for what direction to go into next as long as it's with Yvan (even if he takes his own charge of the direction they're headed for)— and only after first taking a pause to shake off a few gallons' worth of water next to him.

He's there for a while, squinting through the dark with the help of Ryoto's bauble; it's dark, but not too dark to not see anything, and brushing his hands through works anyway. The first cold, solid metal he came into contact with is his first pick and is tugged out with a cloud of dirt (and a fish, ah well) floating about dark metal. Darkness gleamed across it, enough to stun him for a moment while he paddled in place, only pulled out of the trance with Ryoto's nudging.

Yvan's lungs sung for air when he returned to the surface. "What'd you find?" She's persistent, showing him the trinket, and Yvan halfway tilted his head as he tried to figure out what she was doing. It's glowing because of him? Hm. Meanwhile he can't even properly see what he's holding other than it's... somewhat paddle-like, and not easy to swim with.

His first proper glimpse at it was when he was breaching the shore, holding on tight with both hands as he scrambled out. 'A stick?' No, it's pointy, bladed, like a fancy sword. Oh. Nails ran across the blind side and traced over filigree while Ryoto went on ahead, after unloading all that water and dripping a trail through the path. He didn't even flinch; the sword is simply too gorgeous.

He barely watched where he walked as he followed Ryoto. His heart was only set on his new prize, holding it close to his chest as his wings shuffled with excitement.

Vestyge surfaced with a beautiful find clutched tightly in his smaller arms, enjoying the sensation of the ice-cold surface. Incredible shape - he was tempted to revive it himself, if only for how fitting it'd be. He'd worked with bones for his entire life, and now he could start a new one. It was fanciful, and he was not ready to parent the result, but it was a nice idea.

Must be his boss putting these thoughts in his head.

It was going to be significantly harder to navigate the path ahead when the walls were flirting with him. Every open space called his name with an odd lilt to its stony voice. Vestyge recalled fuzzily that some creatures reproduced differently from Gembound, and that this old cycle carried over in a few as an ancient quirk. This was odd. There was no way, magical or physical, to reproduce with a cave.

So why???? Did it want him to??? Vestyge was a little scared. He did not want to know what the stone wanted from him. He didn't want to begin to imagine it.

Maybe talking to people was the better option here. The alternative was frightening him.

Hecate came up not gasping, instead blinking and awkwardly exhaling water. That was--strange. She did cough, and then took a few moments to attach the bangle to her leg.

A glance around at the others showed various Gembounds in various state of looting. It was when Vestyge's skull--the back of it--started winking at her and... gyrating??? Suggestively? that she hurriedly moved on. Definitely hallucinating. I hope. Skulls should not have eyes in the back. Or gyrate. Not while the owner was still alive, anyway.

"I will try this direction," she informed the others, taking flight down a dark and twisted passageway--one far too thick with thorny vines, really.

She did her best to summon a light before her--a little wisp to send ahead, so if there was any danger, she might be forewarned.

It was easy enough, just time-consuming, for the Gembounds to coordinate navigation. Most would find dead-ends, and circle back to encounter others in the group; eventually, most would find their way to a ramp that led downward.

Except for Vestyge.

Vestyge turned a corner and found a web of vines underfoot that had no actual stone beneath; one misstep and suddenly he was plummeting, betrayed by the very cave that he perceived as flirting with him. Maybe it was playing hard-to-get. Either way, he fell, and fell, and fell, through open air, down into-

SPLASH.

...A huge cavern, filled with the sound of roaring sea and a lagoon deep enough to stop someone from dying when they fell in through a hole in the ceiling. Everyone else could walk in, down a carved path that circled the side of the room.

Bones littered this place. The surf crashed in, hissing, not dangerous but loud; seafoam churned below. Vestyge would need to pull himself up and out, but ahead--the way out was blocked. An exit, bright and visible, lay at the end of their carved path. But before that? The bones. Skeletons and broken weapons, shattered armor. And beyond that? Between the dead and the open gap in the wall?

Treasure.

A nest, with two ENORMOUS speckled grey eggs. Gold--in piles--and gemstones, as if something had decided that anything shiny was a great nesting material. Armor and weapons had been pried from the dead and lined the nest's edges.

It was only after everyone had entered--not that they'd necessarily rushed toward the giant nest and eggs, but still--that the creature turned up.

A Squallfang's head emerged from the surf. At first it didn't notice them, instead swimming with surprising agility and speed--given that it was basically t-rex with anglerfish fins and lights--toward the nest. It paused as it reached a shallow point, pulling itself to a completely abnormal height of almost twenty-five feet, and shook itself like a dog before freezing.

It stared at the gathering of would-be adventurers--and then it roared.

Boss Fight!

A Giant Squallfang is about to attack! Gembounds may take whatever action they desire, and must roll to do so.

Any characters who didn't post last round should double-post to catch up; failures from last round will be hit a glancing blow by the stone bricks, or take a more serious injury (but nothing fatal) on a critical fail.

Catch-Up Loot: Soh-Ling does not find any treasure--but it found a gemstone that had once belonged to someone of this element. Its Oilstone was jagged, huge, and still seethed with corruptive energy: enough that any non-Corrupted beast that held it would become twisted, just that little bit. This gemstone would no doubt be easily revivable.

The next post will take place on July 5th in the afternoon/evening GMT.

Ok. This was it. This was where his thousands of cycles of... What can be charitably referred to as life, ended. Down a swirling, seductive pit, shattered into thousands of pieces on the floor. It's time to practice radical acceptance.

Instead of death, Vestyge found water at the bottom - the lagoon swallowed him up, and seeped into shocked lungs. Bubbles escaped his open jaws as he rushed to surface, overtaken with several different kinds of panic at once.

But thank goodness he hadn't died there. That would have been deeply embarrassing.

Vestyge scrabbled up the sandy shore like a half-drowned bat, all long, flailing legs and sodden fur. He coughed harshly, his body shaking with the movement. The way his pelt clung to his frame served to make him look even worse for wear. A sickly Victorian orphan of a Valkhound.

Once he was breathing clearly, his eyes fell on the nest in front of him. Those were big eggs. Fresh, too. And then there was a Squallfang next to him - which was now turning to look at the group. But, let's be honest, mostly Vestyge.

It winked at him.

A braver Gembound would seize the moment to strike. That Gembound was not Vestyge. He scrambled back towards the group, desperate to create some space between him and the massive apex predator.

Oh that was a big creatures, his eyes widenings lightly until you could see the milky whites of his eyes. He was in shock for a moment, unsure what to do. However, he knew he needed to help, somehow, though he wasn't really sure how.

So for the most part, he just aimed to run around it, nipping or swatting at it and not really doing any damage, but trying to keep it moving, keep its attention on him instead of anyone else.

He had no damaging abilities, and he didn't really know how to fight either, but at least he could try and keep it occupied while others damaged it, right?