Kalama's feathers raised in indignation. "I could too kill that thing! If that coward Imp could fight it I could too!"

Kalama went to gesture with her forelimb, but as she looked back she saw Imp impact the worm. She could barely hear the crunch from her vantage point, but a lance of fear speared her.

"Imp!" She cried. "You idiot!"

Imp soon disappeared into the snow, and the thrashing of the worm and spews of blood did nothing to help. She couldn't tell if Imp were dead, but Kalama hoped not. She needed her rival to survive. Not die. What was the point of having a rival if they just died? But no, Imp wasn't dead. Kalama refused to believe that. If she could survive the worm, her rival would be able to...right? But in any case, Kalama couldn't do anything for Imp. Not if Kalama didn't know where he was. She scanned the ledges below for him, spotting no other gembound amongst the cliffs.

She spotted a glimmer of grey and black fur. No Imp, but Kalama recognized that one. It was her key thief. Kalama couldn't save Imp, had no idea if he was even alive. But she could at least get her key back. And become a hero in the process. Oh, and save a fellow gembound from death. That was important too.

Kalama dragged herself off the cliff. She plummeted like a rock, mostly dead weight, but between her tail feathers and her wings Kalama was able to steer herself towards the small fox.

"Wheres my key, fox!" She shouted. Then realized it was freezing. Possibly close to death. Blood leaked from her wound. With no other option, Kalama huddled close to the fox, trying to give it some of her warmth. She pressed her beak against the wound, having no medical experience whatsoever, but trying atleast to stop the bleeding. She would get her key back once the fox was conscious again, she was sure.

think "speak"

cw for gore and death

Palefur did everything she could to save herself in the few seconds she was falling - she tried to grab the rocks, reaching as far as she could to grab at the stones, but she was too far, falling too fast, and those trying to save her...they had no hope of reaching her.

She wasn't thinking about death as she fell, she was only thinking about surviving. Getting out of here, proving to them all that she was more then they thought she was. She was strategy, strength, cunning intelligence. She'd gotten this far, ahead of everyone else, she'd proven that she could survive on her own but it seemed this last task would be the one that she could not pass.

She hit the ground hard, her body immediately breaking in too many places, bones shattering from the impact and impaling the organs they'd once sworn to protect. Her head hit the ground with a resounding crack, breaking open and sending a splatter of red across the ground. She lived, still, for only a moment, her body twisted and broken beyond belief as she clung desperately onto her life. Anger raged through her body as she tried to snarl, breaking, for once, her usually calm, neutral expression. She couldn't die here - she wasn't done yet! She had things to do, a purpose to create and nurture! She came to prove she was worth something to the Overseer, to the Sentinels - not to die!

But it wasn't to be and, despite all her fighting, her last flicker of determination to be more then she was was snuffed out as her body succumbed and her last breath rattled free, defiance still twisted on her face as she went still.

*exit RIP

Hydra always held its dangers. Perhaps foremost among them was the danger of leaving others behind; drawing farther and farther ahead, proving strength... until it failed, and none were left to save-...

"Palefur." The voice was cold, empty as the wind here, and the Merchant, as he strode into view, moved without haste. The black cloak swept through the snow, flakes drifting past forked antlers, the strange not-eyes bored into the mask seeing all, and nothing.

He knelt above the lifeless cream-hued fur, and then stood, lifting his hand. A ruby glinted in pale, thin fingers. Claws closed... and a fine, red dust drifted into the snow, taken by the wind.

Then he turned, turned to face the Ice Worm... and waited.

It dissolved, as they always did, but its oil slipped away, into cracks and crevices, into the snow, into the ice, and left behind a strange thing: a massive diamond, glinting and sparkling like purest ice.

The Merchant went to this--and then past it, and knelt, lifting instead a small blue Labradorite, which he lifted: and this fell away, too, into nothing but fine dust, taken by Hydra's wind, as so many had been before it. "Vinea."

He turned, then, and looked to the diamond. "This one has... proven worthy."

The diamond shattered, a dozen pieces scattering across the ice and snow.

The Masked Merchant turned away. "I await... the survivors..." he rasped, and then stepped forward, vanishing into the snow.

Far in the distance, increasingly visible past the faltering snow, the barrier shielding Hydra had fallen.

____________

Survivors thus far have a choice. They may collect a piece of the Ice Worm's diamond for later revival, and/or aid other Gembound present, before departing; or they may choose to race to the exit. Gembound with injuries that impede their movement will not be fast enough to race, and MAY NOT roll for final placements, even if they choose to head for the exit.

Those racing for the final placements may not aid others, and may not pause to collect a part of the gemstone.

All Gembound WITHOUT movement-impeding injury should roll this round, but it should be clarified beneath their post whether they are racing for the exit, or choosing Ice Worm diamond shard rewards instead. Places will be filled by those racing, or if there are not enough, by higher rollers from the Diamond-taking group.

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

She watched the cat fall and hit the ground - she could hear the crack as her body broke and she turned away. Shit...she messed up and now someone was dead because of it. She watched the Merchant stride forward to collect...no, destroy her gemstone, as well as the one that had died to the iceworm, before watching with a neutral expression as the diamond shattered.

But fuck that. She wasn't interested. She could see, in the distance, that the barrier was down. If it was time to leave now, then she was getting the hell out of Hydra. Without waiting to see what the others decided, she leaped forward, racing across the snow-covered ground, determined to be the first one past the exit.

Lyra is racing

He sniffled, pretended nothing was wrong, and winced the moment he flicked his tail. Yeah, that shit hurted. Whatever; he had worse, and he angled his wings as the worm gave its final death throes.

He looked to it for a second. That was what all the fuss was about, and- Ah, shit, his antler! His body paused for a second as he mulled over the consequences. Well, he would't miss it. He gave a noncommital shrug and launched to the air, angling himself to the well-known destination that was sanctuary.


... Except when he angled entirely the wrong way. Was he really a champion of Hydra if he got this lost in it? Apparently so, as he'd zoned out during the cold and the winds, realizing he had to dip a completely different direction to find the entrance.

Blame it on the faulty rudder of a tail.

Kalama...she had done it! She won the trial! She looked towards the exit. Then Null. Then the giant diamond beneath. Kalama decided quickly. She already had survivor of the Trial under her belt, along with the savior of one gembound. Null would be fine, probably. Who needs a key? She could have a giant hunk of gemstone instead. Imagine the look on her dad's fuck dumb stupid face when she came back with a giant hunk of diamond. And two words he'd never taught her.

Yeah, that'd be cool She'd be able to share it with everyone in the caves. Everyone would know of her exploits. She flopped forward, searching amongst the shards for something she could use. The biggest, most prettiest gemstone ever. She rifled her beak and tail through the shards, finding one almost as large as her leg. Yeah that'd do. Kalama gripped the diamond shard with her beak, and tucked it under a wing.

"Hey! Can anyone help me? I got my ass stuck down here!"


think "speak"

Kalama is claiming a piece of gemstone

Ivory shook herself, a little--and stared, aghast, as the Merchant came, as he took the stones-... the cat--the cat was dead?

She blinked in horror.

And even the worm-... She turned away with a shudder.

"If anyone needs help... I'll carry you if I can," she offered softly. She was certainly large enough to. "You okay, sis?" she called to Shida, and then--to Virgil--"How 'bout you?"

She offered her back to Kalama, with nudges and kneeling; she could carry the chicken home, if no one else did so.

Ivory took her time. She eventually took, too, a single piece of diamond, lodging it in her cheek--though who knew if she'd ever use it. She offered flank and back to whoever needed it and--once she was certain that everyone would get out safely--she began the long trundle back to Tunnel P.

Ivory will take anyone who needs help and do her best to support those who need it. She is NOT racing for the exit.

He was, truth be told, just a little concussed. But a brief check with his magic told him where Kalama was; he wanted to call out to her, but all he managed was a muffled something that reminded him, harshly, that his jaw was fucking shattered.

Adrenaline swam in him, endorphins carrying him in a horrible, pleasant, terrifying, peaceful haze. He could not see the Merchant, or the dead bodies. He saw, with red thumps, the life forces of the others present.

He assumed they'd made it. He assumed they'd continue to do so.

He hadn't come here to win--he'd come to prove himself. But now that it was, apparently, over--now that the ice worm was dead--he found that he couldn't yet crow victory. Not least because his jaw was broken. Fuck it, he thought, not-very-clearly, past the dizzying, sickening haze of concussed confusion. I'll show them-... Heat, like fever, crossed that thought out before he'd quite gotten to whoever "them" might be (it was, in fact, Vargas and Nemean, but he didn't get that far in the thought process).

Imp rose up, taking a breath and then powering with sweeps of his wings for the exit of Hydra--as best he could navigate it blind, at least.

Through his haze he flapped, cold and hot combining, confusion and determination twinning. He kept the signatures of the sand worms to his right, and he flew, and flew, and flew... until at last the heartbeats of Vargas, of Orthoclase, of the Merchant, came into sight in the distance.

Imp is flying for the EXIT.

Oleander

Melt all your art and drink the paint

Oleander looked back at the diamond as it shattered, enthralled by the shards as they drifted into the sky. More more enthralled by the survivors, those that had fought tooth and nail to defeat the iceworm. To save her.

At first, her thoughts went to Warrior, who had saved and helped as many as he could. He was a good friend, yes, but her eyes drifted to the one he'd saved. They'd rallied them before the fight, survived, forged ahead...strong...noble...ah, as she kept looking their way, she couldn't help but feel a warmth crawling deep in her chest, an urge to be near them, to stay near them, to never let them out of her sight again. She didn't even know their name but...oh, what did it matter! They'd saved her and she loved them.

But to get close? Oh, oh that was a matter she wasn't ready to face. What if she embarrassed herself? What if she said the wrong thing? What...what if she messed up and her first impression made them hate her? No, she couldn't let that happen she couldn't risk it.

...But she found her feet heading that way anyways, to say something to him, to say...to say...what, exactly?

It came out as she approached Gatto, blushing deeply, heart pounding heavily in her chest. "Y-y-you....you fought w-w-well. Th-thank you..." Oh, it was too much! She had to turn away before this feeling overwhelmed her. She had to cover it up. Stop. She turned and saw the massive crystal. Oh, a good cover. She reached down and grabbed a shard in her mouth and moved away, glancing back at Gatto as she left for the exit of Hydra.

Oleander is taking a piece of the diamond and not racing

Warrior was in horror at all of this.

aghast at the Merchant, at the gemstones being turned to nothing more than threads of colored sand. At the dead cat, lying in the snow. Even the worm-... The poor beast had, he felt, been tormented: an unnatural, pained thing, howling in agony at the end.

He took a shard: not because of greed, but out of pity. Like Ivory, it was tucked into his cheek to be carried. He would pray for it, for now, for what that was worth: not to any god, but a sad and whispered wish on dark nights that the creature had at last found peace.

And what the hell was wrong with these bone-people..? Even Oleander-... She passed him, she stammered to the cockatrice, and then she left, without a word his way. Walked up to him, and away, without a word his direction. He blinked. He'd lost her-... and he'd found her, and he'd saved her life in this trial, again and again and--she had no word for him. He did not love her, he did not want love from her nor did he feel he deserved it, but something about her turning away, not even asking if he was all right, stabbed at him.

...What did the bone-cave do to Gembound?

Warrior looked around at the carnage again, near crying at the horror of it all, wide-eyed. Blood, and gore; shattered stones; and yet they took it all in stride. "What is wrong with you all..?" he whispered.

At length, he shook himself free of his thoughts.

His gaze sought out Quentin, and Mirage, and he nodded to them each. "I'm glad you're okay," he told them solemnly, worry lacing his features. Ivory was offering to take others--that was the least he could do, too. He was still, somehow, uninjured. "I'll help you all get back. Back to your... bones. I'll carry whoever needs it, too," he added, and then added a silent prayer that they never returned. "Quentin? If you're staying--with Mirage--I'll come back. I'm not leaving with them--they're crazy," he added, in an undertone. "But if you want to stay with the group, I can carry you, again. I'd be happy to."

Other than that, Warrior simply stuck with the group: a careful guiding word here, support for whoever needed it, and an eventual, reluctant return to Tunnel P: a barrier he was more and more convinced that he should never cross.

Warrior is taking a piece of the diamond and NOT RACING; he, like Ivory, will help anyone who wants.