Blackberry's Gambit - Printable Version

The Collector swept to a halt just within the mouth of Hydra. The heat even here was blistering, the hot wind blowing sand to gather about along the hem of his cloak.

He took a deep breath, his crimson pinprick eyes searching the blinding landscape, then grimaced beneath the hood.

He'd never liked this place.

"Here we are," he began, one clawed hand emerging to gesture out at the dunes beyond. "And in the interests of your success--which I would like very much--I suggest you listen closely to what I have to say."

"The item that I need retrieved has been locked within this cave for longer than I care to admit. You will be seeking a specific creature: the golden Quillmouse. It will be shining, glowing, golden. The item itself is an eye-shaped amulet on a thin golden chain: the Chain of Many Eyes. It is enchanted to warn it of approaching danger, allowing its wearer to be supernaturally aware of approaching predators... toxic air... things of that nature," he went on, gesturing again, vaguely. "The drawback is that the wearer glows golden, at all times--making it easier for those predators to find. The golden Quillmouse, then, has been living a very long, very frantic life. I am a predator, and so it fears me, and due to the very nature of the chain--which it rather accidentally wound up tangling in its quills, the fool thing," he added dourly, "I cannot get near it. But you--perhaps you can."

"I have seen it, now and then--I know it is still alive, but I can't get close. Quillmice tend to wander in two regions... the Crucible, and the Dead Marsh. I will leave it up to you how to proceed, but here is what you need to know."

"You have, as far as I see it, two choices. You may aim for either that Crucible, or the Dead Marsh, first. The Crucible is a forbidding and dangerous series of canyons, full of toxic and hypnotic spiders--avoid looking at the blue ones, if you could--and very nasty, very large, very territorial Eyehook Vultures. The Quill Mouse likely hides in its shaded nooks and crannies, most of the time. To get to the Crucible, you must first traverse the Dunes: full of venomous scorpions, and great Sandworms that sense vibration above, and will erupt from beneath and drag you to your death."

The Collector looked to Blackberry, Rift all but forgotten. "The other route takes you first over the Salt Flats--vast, searing hot, with no shade or cover. It's much like the dunes in that regard, though the spiders and scorpions wander it freely. Beyond it lies the Dead Marsh, which is open, with very little cover. The Quillmice come there periodically in search of toxins to coat their spines--ahh, it's poisonous, by the way. The place is full of quicksand and hidden pockets of toxic gases, along with the occasional visit by a vulture. If you take this route, the Quill Mouse may be easier to spot, and you might be safer from predators; but you will have no cover and are at risk of the gases shifting with the breeze and killing you at any time."

The Collector shrugged, his palms spread out, as if to say that it was all Blackberry's choice from here.

"Tell me, now; if you perish, and you very well may, to whom shall I deliver the stones?"

Blackberry felt a little tired from the journey from Eridanus, but she'd been periodically sending healing magic through her body to keep her revitalized. She felt a lot better now then she had at the start of the journey, but the intense heat of Hydra was immediately putting her on edge. She gulped and looked out at the open desert, her claws sinking into the sand at her feet. This was going to be a lot harder then she thought. But it didn't matter. This was her only option. Live or die. Perish and serve her sentence in death or live and suffer the justice.

She took a deep breath to calm her heartbeat, listening carefully to what the Collector was saying to her. So it was a simple retrieval? It sounded simple enough but with the Collector's warnings of all the dangers awaiting her, she knew that it would be anything but easy. Finding the quillmouse was one thing, traversing all those dangers was another.

But she already decided what to do in her head. "I'll go to the Crucible," she whispered. "I'm much better at fighting then anything else. I think i'd have a better chance then." It didn't take her long to decide who she was going to give her stone to. "There's a cat called Wilder. You might know her, she seems to know everyone. I want her to have my stone...and Blueberry's if I die."

The hand slipped into the robe. It came out with a small, ceramic dish, one filled to the brim with water--and without spilling a drop, the cloaked figure knelt and placed it in the sand.

"I know the cat, yes; we have done business together, in fact. And now: from here on out..."

His eyes traveled over her. He'd been about to say that things were in her hands; but she had no hands, and "in your wings" didn't sound as amusing when all she had were tattered stubs. "In your webbed feet" had absolutely no ring to it.

He settled for a dramatic pause, instead, and a quiet, almost ominous tone.

"...It is all up to you."

Rift stood behind Blackberry, looking out at Hydra with an expression mixed with pity and fear. He'd heard that it was a desert, but he didn't imagine it to look quite like this. Bigger then any other cave he'd ever seen, stretching out farther then he could see. And it was all shimmering with heat, covered with sand and dangers and for the first time, Rift doubted that Blackberry would make it through.

Still, she didn't look like she was going to give up. To be honest, now that he was looking at it, perhaps this was a suitable punishment. It would be harsh and painful but not a needless torture. And it most likely held death as well.

He sighed and stepped back as the Collector spoke to the goose. He'd done what he said he would do, accompanied them here. Now that they were here, he could return. But he felt glued to the spot for now, almost unwilling to watch Blackberry go. He'd been her warden and protector for a number of cycles now and it felt strange knowing that he would never see her again. Even if she did survive, she wouldn't be the same goose. She would be a new life.

So what could he say now, that they were here and she was about to leave? He hated her, he never wouldn't hate her, not like she was now, but she wasn't the same. He had taken her under care and he still felt that instinct to protect. He needed to let go now. It's time to let go of many things. "Good luck," he rumbled, quietly. That was all he said.

Blackberry only nodded in reply. Of course Wilder knew the Collector. She wondered for a moment if she could trust this creature to return the stones in case she did die, or even trust him to hand over Blueberry's if she survived, but she guessed it didn't really matter now. She'd made her decision already.

When the Collector set the bowl down in front of her, she dipped her head forward, drinking the water as quickly as she dared, trying not to spill any of it in her haste. She had a feeling she wouldn't get the opportunity to drink water for a very long time. She wasn't hungry - Rift had grown along the way - so water was all she needed left. It took her a couple of minutes to finish the bowl but she stepped away, satisfied.

"Thank you," she whispered, although if it was about the water or the stones, it wasn't clear. Perhaps it was both. Either way, she took one last look at Rift and one more nod to the Collector, before she stepped forward and trotted off into the desert, heading towards the canyons in the distance.

The heat was immediately overwhelming, the light blindingly bright. Hydra was another world, a hell unto itself.

The first threats Blackberry would face would be the unseen: what lurked in the sands, beneath her light-blinded eyes. She would need to watch her step.

Blackberry must roll to not be caught unawares.

Blackberry stepped off into the desert, the hot sand beneath her feet burning the underside of her claws. She hissed at the intensity of the heat and fluffed out many of her feathers in an attempt to cool herself off, but it didn't do much, considering that there was a nonexistent breeze. Nothing but sand and heat and the hot lights above.

She stumbled through the desert, not caring for where she stepped, tripping on her own claws. The sand was harder to forge then she expected and she still wasn't up to full strength from the cycles in confinement. She felt herself loosening up more with every step, but already she was panting, stomping through sand, her mind focused on forging ahead instead of the dangers that lurked underneath

Time passed, as she struggled onward over burning sands.

The Collector watched until she'd fallen out of sight, in among the shimmering heat and the dunes.

Then it was just her: just the goose and the desert, her scarred body versus its unforgiving harshness.

Just, her, the desert-... and a scorpion, a golden form so easy to miss where it lurked, almost buried in the sand; so easy to overlook with the light so bright in one's eyes.

The tail whipped up, that deadly stinger poised, thrusting for her leg. And it wasn't a small creature, not startled and afraid, no; it was over a foot long, with hardened carapace and gnawing hunger. It was hunting.

Blackberry must roll to avoid being stung, and poisoned. A successful sting will result in sharp pain, and then numbness, followed by paralysis spreading from the wound site.

With the burning light and the scorpion's camouflage, Blackberry almost missed it. She was staring at the ground, at least, and caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. A tail whipping up out of nowhere, aiming straight for her leg, deadly stinger poised to sink into her skin.

But she wasn't fast enough to avoid it. In fact, she barely moved at all before the stinger sunk into the side of her leg. She yelped and struggled back, stumbling, falling into the sand, dislodging the stinger, but causing it to dough up the side of her foot. Pain was beginning to blossom across her whole leg, with terror following in its wake. She had no idea what the poison was going to do to her. Would it kill her quickly? A slow agonizing, unavoidable death? Paralysis? This wasn't good.