Perhaps Duck would be light enough to avoid most of the threats underneath her paws, and small enough to duck under the blanket of choking fog. The sounds of struggle drifted toward her ears - the strangled cries of those lost in the putrid gas, and the sound of... Combat? Above and ahead of her, a vulture descended upon the gembound in the lead [the noisy one the insect seemed to take issue with].

It was not especially fond of Hymn, but it was not invested enough to hold any ill will. What it did see was an opportunity; And if the creature was to die here, who was the cat to interfere? She charged forward to claim her rightful position in the lead.

Duck Duck is moving forward.

Star did not want to admit that her strength was flagging. But no matter how she tried to hide it, she felt that she was going at a slower pace. Connie seemed to notice, and she felt worried that she was holding him back. She would feel horrible if she was the reason they stayed longer in this place than they needed to. "I'm okay. We go, we go!" his gentle headbutts seemed to renew her energy, and it wasn't long before they arrived at the marsh.

She was afraid of what this might entail. Her wing only served to block the jerboa from vultures, but did nothing to find them a safe path. She could go first. Star stepped forward with cautious movements, trying to find a clear path for Connie to follow. With every few steps, she would call back to her friend with a "safe!" or "clear!".

Star is moving forward

@Conleth

Fleas was nothing if not a trooper. The vulture incident had nearly scared her hair off her hide, and the bush she got stuck in actually had taken patches of it. The sensation of wind against bare skin grated on her. She was still going. The trial had been terrifying and exhausting, evident in the way the corners of her mouth foamed. But she was still going.

She tapped heavy paws against the boggy sand as she went, suspicious of the nefarious purposes of the bog. Everything else here wanted to kill them, so why should this seemingly empty bog be any different? She avoided any ground that seemed of dubious stability, or sunk when she put a fraction of her weight on it. Hell, sometimes she even avoided a patch because it gave her bad vibes. But, luckily for Fleas, her paranoia paid off. Fleas stepped lightly, avoiding trouble, placing stakes and seeds in the safe areas she'd crossed over.

Fleas is moving forward

graphic themes

They were nearly at the end. Anselm could feel it. Her foot twinged from her fall, but this was the last location she remembered having to visit. The dead marsh, its entropic violence hidden beneath placid-looking bogs. She could only hope that it slowed down her enemies, rather than her. It would suit her just fine if others were to fall behind. She was annoyed that there were so many up here with her-- she deserved the win. Her alone. For Kethri. For Arquia. She would not fall.

Nevermind, actually. The hare would fall. As she bent to press a stake into the ground, her front paws pressed too hard into the earth. Gasses bubbled up, releasing beneath her with a limp splatter of sand. And she had breathed it in. The pain was instant. Her eyes, nose, and throat burned as if she'd laid her own smolder step against them. She coughed and wheezed helplessly as the toxic gasses began to carve their way through her.

Round Nine

The toxic gas claimed the majority of victims... as it so often did. Colorless (or nearly so), odorless until you were already breathing it in... Even creatures the size of Captain were pitching and choking. Never mind the smaller ones, like the cormorant or that black hare, faltering behind. Ah, and the mud pits, those water pools, the quicksand... The Masked Merchant, watching now from atop a canyon ridge, took note of the grey horse again floundering in the same type of trap he'd nearly succumbed to once before. Some Gembound learned nothing, it seemed. And the little one, the brown one, also choking, drowning. Perhaps the Merchant would be claiming a few gemstones after all. Pinching their brilliant shines between his fingers, pressing down until nothing was left but dust: a dust to join the sands of Hydra. And here he'd thought there would be no deaths this Trial.

Hmm.

Ahh-... and here, the Eyehooks were closing in. Few, now, but their black and circling shadows marked those likely to die; Hymn, with beak and talons tearing at him, would know this threat quite well in just a few seconds.

Even so... enough stakes were up, now, to mark the way. And enough seeds spread about that, given time, the toxic gases would be-... Not manageable, no. But certainly less prevalent than now.

One thing that the Merchant and Vargas both took note of, and not for the first time? These creatures cooperated far more than the monsters of ages past. Perhaps future trials would need to be modified to take it into account; this whole 'friendship' thing was proving far more tenacious than either had expected.

The Dead Marsh - Part 2

Captain, Warrior, Spinnaker, Hymn, Anselm and Fiver are in immediate mortal danger. These characters must post to save themselves or may be saved by anyone in the same Placement as they.

Everyone else may optionally post to sabotage, react, or aid anyone who shares their placement. However, a Critical Fail rolled at any point will inflict an injury that will cause the character to fall back by one placement.

A character may post once to roll to defend against each sabotage attempt made against them in addition to posting their own action.

Ruby-Beta, Glory, Huntsman, Conleth and One must be rolled for late: one for an initial attempt to traverse, and again (if they fail and wish to survive) to try and save themselves. Ruby-Beta and Glory have permission to use a placeholder post for the time being.

---

Placement:

First: Hymn, Corsair, Wisperia, Duck Duck, Fleas

Second: Anselm, Huntsman

Third: Spinnaker, One, Whistle

Fourth: Captain, Galleon, K'cil, Star

Fifth: Kaizer, Conleth, Ivory, Glory, Ruby-Beta, Reverend, Aran

Sixth: Warrior, Jim, Zhusha, Fiver

The next post will take place on September 26th.

@Wisperia (Hymn, Star) @Galleon (Fleas, Anselm) @Ruby-Beta (Glory) @Whistle (K'cil, Duck Duck) @Aran @Zhusha (Captain, Jim) @Conleth (Huntsman, One) @Reverend (Spinnaker, Kaizer) @Warrior (Corsair, Ivory) @Fiver

Panic. Panic. Panic. Glossy wild horse eyes, rolling in terror, hooves scraping at the crumbling edges of the sand-

No, no, NO, NO, NO-

He could not calm his mind enough to think, only pawing at the ground and sliding backward over and over and over. But he knew--he remembered--that Hydra was home. Or it had been, long ago--he had not lived here in many cycles but nonetheless it was where he had grown up. It wasn't swathed in shadows, right now. This was where he'd learned magic, and learned to survive.

It was as if thinking of his native magic--his own element, the little bursts of earthen power he'd learned to thrust about as a mere foal--summoned it. Warrior went still as he recognized the soft, barely noticeable shuddering envelop him: the slow but steady quaking barely moving the sand all around. Oh! A few sharp snorts, and he'd calmed, focusing on dragging himself up... bit... by... bit... as the sand caved in beneath him. His hind hooves tamped it down, pushing it into the muck; his forelimbs dragged at the edges, until at last he flopped suddenly and heavily out onto 'dry' land.

He rolled upright, heaving, and looked around himself in a daze.

I'm alive, he thought, and this was somehow... surprising.

This felt strangely similar to all the times Huntsman had attacked him, and one would think that he would be experienced in dodging aerial attacks by now. But he was tired, and eyehook vultures were HUGE. Their wings cast enormous shadows around him, which only grew bigger as they neared. Hymn twisted out of the way- a close call. He didn't even want to imagine what could have happened if it had gotten to him. He forced more strength into his wings, hoping that they would be able to hold up a bit longer. He couldn't fail now. He was close, so close.

Once they made it to the Marshes, Beta paused. Its nose crinkled from the stench of the foul water and toxins floating in the air. It remembered hearing about this place from stories as a child. Of course they'd be passing through.

Well, Beta would be putting that knowledge to good use. It wondered how many of the others would just go charging blindly through when it knew that any step could swallow it whole.

With all its senses alight to avoid the smog and dangers lurking closeby, it began to carefully make its way through the swamp, testing each pawstep before fully committing. Yeah, it could do this, fine.

Ruby-Beta is staying with the group.

The foul swamps were an evil Glory had yet the pleasure of experiencing. He clacked his beak, lifting one of his front talons and examining the foul mud that clung to the scaled skin. Disgusting. Yeah, this was going to be another part of this Trial that he would not be walking through.

Opening his wings again, he lifted himself up and immediately felt the heavy air invading his nostrils. A brief moment of panic had him stopping his ascent, but then a flick of magic sent a stream of wind forward, blowing the poison away in favor of a tunnel of clean air. He glided into it and let it carry him through the swamp, still keeping with and watching over the others.

Glory is staying with the group

The dead march stretched ahead, and the first step into it felt.. wrong. The ground was squishy, nearly soup-y, trying to devour his feet and maybe the whole of him, too. He fell into line behind Star, leaving a trail of his little seeds and glowing markers like something out of Hansel and Gretel.

This was the last thing they had to do, and then everything would be fine. No biggie, right?

Nothing bad happened- not to them, anyways. The path Star marked out was safe, and Connie managed not to misstep.

They would live, surely.

[Connie is moving ahead, sticking with Star]