The ice worm surged out of the ground, and with it came a searing shot of pain all down the bison's side - she shuffled back a few feet, trying desperately to keep her balance while something raked through her skin. One of the beast's spines had caught, the jagged edge tearing a disastrous line through Virgil's hide.

She gave a keening call, eyes immediately darting to the spray of red red red that'smyred across the snow. The rimeling's ears flickered back, but she shouldered on, stuttering through the snow because everyone else was moving on and why shouldn't she?

Virgil heaved softly (and would've clutched her side if she could) as she moved after Ivory, Wynter, and Shida; they'd gotten this far together, and she wasn't going to leave them to the frozen river. Knowing that they were all fairly large, though, she hung back somewhat. Better to spread their weight across the ice, right?

Virgil is heading out with the group going through the River.

His nose twitched as voices bounced off the canyon walls. As the weather turned cold, he barely risked going out, nearly freezing to death the first time he stepped foot in the snow he'd never seen before.

Would he have to get used to this? He hoped not. Curling up his lips ever so slightly, he pawed at the snow blocking the entrance to his and Mirage's little hovel, fear driving his heart to pound in his ears.

"Someone's out there." When he scrabbled through to find enough light- it'd been thick, since they could store food away in the cold- his shoved his nose through and sniffed at the air. What returned was biting cold, and, and-

"A lot of someones." His eyes shut tightly as he strained his ears. "I don't hear fighting. There's yelling- War- Warrior?" Quentin's head came back and he huffed, white stuck to his pelt. "Warrior's... Out there. With a lot of people." With wide eyes, he turned to his friend, fur puffing up in an alert confusion.

Whether Mirage protested or not, he turned his mind fully to the drift blocking them in, shoving out to burst from the ground. It took effort- as did so many things here in the cold- but soon his paws hit light for the first time in days. There should be room for the both of them to squirm out, but the walkable path was a little high for them.

He glanced back to Mirage, so grown up now that she'd stayed with him for all those cycles. His mouth flicked open, briefly, but snapped shut- what could he say? His tail was swaying with a vicious nervous energy. "C'mon, let's go find Warrior." Let's go find some answers.

It wasn't too hard to track his voice, with Quentin yipping back at his owl friend to lead her along the way. "Warrior! Warrior, where are-"

He froze. Like a deer in the headlights, his eyes went as round as saucers as he took in the sight of not one, but two, three- too many people, in his opinion. It... Frightened him.

"Warrior! Where'd these guys come from?" His voice was high and- he'd admit- a little frantic as he bounded closer, quivering as he took in the sight of a fox like him. "Are they hurt? How can I help- is there a way I can help?" He circled towards Hargrave, now, ears pushed as forward as they could as his muzzle twitched with every inhale.

Quentin is joining the group in the ravine.

Lyra glanced back just in time to see that sight - the horrible, terrible sight of the little gembound being ripped to pieces by the ice worm. She felt her stomach clench and she had to clamp her jaws shut to keep from throwing up. She couldn't believe that had just happened. If she'd been back there...

No, not the time to think about that. She took deep breaths to steady herself and just held tight to Virgil. She watched as they approached the river and she swallowed. Wait...Virgil was huge. A massive creature, weighing a ton. Wouldn't the ice...crack? Yeah, it definitely would! What was she thinking?! Lyra turned down to ask, but then again, what right did she have to tell Virgil where to go? She'd just been sitting on her back the whole time! Lyra stayed silent, hoping that Virgil knew what she was doing.

Staying with Virgil towards the river

The cold was only bearable because she had Quentin to snuggle with, but it left her sleepy. Her feathers had fleshed out, and now they were cozy and warm, but while her and Quentin were desert creatures built for cold nights, this was... beyond cold.

"What do you mean?" Mirage asked, blinking as her fox friend dug at the snow. She reached out, touching her magic gently, and blinked through the amber that shielded her vision. In an instant, dozens of little heartbeats filled the Crucible, and she scampered up to her feet. "There's so many!" She squeaked, hopping forward. "What are they doing out in the storm?"

Quentin scrambled out, and she followed with haste, spreading her wings and swooping down after him. He didn't need to make so much noise-- she wasn't that blind, and his heart was beating fast enough that she could track it upside down with her eyes closed. But he was calling out for Warrior, not her, and the big horse didn't have reliable seeking magic like she did.

As they approached, almost immediately she was struck with the smell of blood, and took stock of the injured. "This isn't good," she chirped, "We can help.. What can we do to help?"

She landed amongst the herd, having to focus on her magic as snow settled and froze on the jagged amber that shielded her eyes, making it harder and harder to see like she normally did.

Mirage is joining the group in the ravine.

bad mouth mustelid

Well, everything had gone to hell in a hand-basket, and now Fisher was sure he was bleeding from somewhere (maybe his paw pads? Or his shoulder?) but he still wasn't feeling much in the way of pain. Usually there was a sensation of hot, nasty, stickiness seeping into his fur, but with the cold, he felt frozen from whisker to tail.

He tagged along behind the hoofbeast-- well, one of them-- Warrior, and the other injured of the group. It seemed important to stick along with the key-holder (who's life he had saved! He was a hero as long as she lived.) and more importantly... He was anxious about the river. Drowning was probably a bad way to go, and drowning in ice-water seemed even worse.

Yeah, he was just going to stick along with the group. He tried to focus on reserving his strength for the next disaster. There wasn't much strength left to reserve, but his magic churned through his body, hopefully stitching together what bits of him could still be kept in one piece.

Fisher really shouldn't have been complaining though. Some of his companions looked, err, really messed up. His ears perked as Warrior's friends came charging down the hillside, and began to wag his tail. "Welcome to the party!" He barked, putting on a good face-- hey, if everyone started panicking, it wouldn't be good, would it?

It seemed that fate favored them this day. As they wound their way--threading through the ravine, or balancing precariously on the surface of the ice--only two of them met with danger.

Agate--still alone, with Desert Rose nearing but not yet near enough--found themselves falling, tumbling. The strike of rock was hard, and the ground was rushing up to meet them. It was enough, if they did not catch themselves in time, to snap their neck at the bottom, to crush their bones: to leave them dead for the rest to find. Or, if they were very unlucky, to drop them in the midst of the still-living, like some terrible, gruesome practical joke.

It was a quiet rumble above that sent warning of the falling curtain of snow: smothering, heavy, and full of large chunks of ice. This cascaded down in an abrupt torrent directly over Oleander, landing on and burying her completely, striking here and there with the boulder-like ice wrapped in the blanket of snow.

More distant, the ice worm churned just past Kalama, its immense breadth, thick white hide and bristles briefly visible as they breached the surface. And then it was gone... but lurking, the ominous rumbling and sense of being watched persistent.

____________

Oleander must free herself, or be freed, from the snow blanket to continue. A critical fail on her part will result in critical injury, but anyone else in the Ravine group (Hargrave, Warrior, Null, Fisher, Quentin or Mirage) may aid free of consequence.

Agate must roll to save themselves. Desert Rose will not yet be close enough to help. Failure will result in death.

No one else needs to post, but may do so if they wish--advancement is not possible this turn.

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five (Null, Quentin)
@Imp (Ivory, Warrior)
@Agate Two-Three-Six (Wynter, Fisher, Mirage)
@Virgil (Hargrave)
@Shida (Palefur, Lyra, Oleander)
@Kalama

Imp was angry, but he didn't dare start arguing with the Ice Worm roiling about. He waited until it had sank beneath the surface to start arguing, again.

In a rare concession to common sense, though, he kept his voice a harsh near-whisper as he dropped lower to the chicken.

"Coward?! You're just a chicken, you have no idea what I've faced!" Wait- Logic and memory assaulted him. Kalama had been there at the first trial.

She totally knew. Wait, did she actually come inside? He... couldn't remember.

Shit.

Imp went the middle road: insulting. That would cover all bases!

"I've fought... LOTS of stuff! Hey, if you're so tough, why don't you fight Vargas?" he taunted.

Quietly.

Part of Warrior's reasoning for coming this way had been to check on his friend. Mirage he'd heard about, a great deal, but Quentin he'd met, and liked. He owed Quentin.

"Quentin--you must be Mirage?" he asked, coming up on them. It was a relieved tone, and then a friendly one, and he came up alongside the entrance to their den. "Hi. If you guys are safe you should definitely stay in there. It's really cold out here, and there's-..." Warrior glanced back, and shivered briefly (his equine metabolism still keeping him warm enough, in general). "...Some kind of giant ice worm. It's huge. It's trying to eat them. They're--they came here from the bone-place?" he added, brow knitted, looking them over. Half his group was gone--down the river, he supposed, others scattered off their own way. "They said this is some kind of trial. I think it's why it's cold but I don't know for sure." The first threads of real fear (the realization that his whole world was abruptly changed, and might never go back) trickled through him.

He took a breath, and looked back to Quentin. He was about to continue when there was a loud whoomph, and a snowdrift fell flat on Oleander's head.

The Arabian turned, brown coat flashing as he galloped the short distance to the snowdrift, crying out. "Oleander!" The name he'd been seeking, when first he met Quentin- "Help!" he cried, pawing at the snow with ineffectual hooves.

The Agate--Designation Two, three, six-- had brushed with death many a time. Felt panic, felt bones crush and snap, felt their life bleeding out before them. They had known betrayal.

They had never known what it was like to be let down by their own body. Beaten and battered, left as little more than a pulp, but always... Always, they fought.

Their wings surged out either side, and though they were tossed and tumbled down the ravine, bouncing off of the cliff face once, and then twice, they finally managed to slow their descent with the wind catching under wing. They lashed out a talon and managed to grab hold of a ledge, and actually stop falling, and with a click of their mandibles, they turned their beak upward.

They saw Desert Rose, swooping down to check on them. "That was close!" They crooned, head still spinning from the tumble, but they hauled themself up and flapped their wings, once, twice, and then lifted off into the air again.

"Maybe we should stick together! I don't remember this weird glow, do you?"

The paths--ravine and ice--eventually joined. At their center, deep within the Crucible, the faint blue glow flickered and died; but a soft, intermittent hum still sang a siren song for their destination.

The Gembound, upon investigating, will find a cave mouth recessed beneath an overhang, blocked by a strange stone door. This cave was not here prior, and those familiar with Hydra may realize this. There is a keyhole in this door's center, and four dark glyphs around the keyhole: a straight horizontal line, a curved line with its edges swept upward, a square, and a circle.

Four pillars, with faintly-glowing glyphs, stand before the door itself, which crackles with a dangerous-feeling energy. Each pillar is slightly different, and each bears a large stone bowl atop it.

The first pillar's glyph depicts a thick cluster of feathers with a line beneath.
The second pillar's, an upside-down bird, lying as if dead, droplets falling down into a curved line whose ends are tilted upward. The bowl on this pillar is very wide, and deep.
The third pillar's glyph appears to depict a staring eye, with the eyeball's root dangling beneath, and squared lines surrounding it.
The fourth pillar shows a claw-like tree, perhaps dead, with a single falling branch encased in a circle.

_________

Placements are no longer in effect, and all Gembound--with the exception of Kalama and Imp, who are still out in the Dunes far, far behind--may arrive at this location gradually this round. Imp and Kalama must still roll to survive the Dunes. Failure may result in becoming further lost, or being targetted by the circling Ice Worm.

Everyone else may make any rolls they wish in an attempt to solve the puzzle. Engaging in dangerous behavior--though it may be necessary to progress--will of course bring consequences on failures, while any crit fail may result in critical injury, depending upon the action being taken.

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five (Null, Quentin)
@Imp (Ivory, Warrior)
@Agate Two-Three-Six (Wynter, Fisher, Mirage)
@Virgil (Hargrave)
@Shida (Palefur, Lyra, Oleander)
@Kalama