Here they were.

Reign's golden eyes squinted against the howling wind, his crown glinting like lost treasure. If this blizzard were a beast, it would've been giant and unrelenting, with claws made of ice and a breath of snow. But monsters were far easier to fight than nature, and the storm itself wasn't even their true enemy-- it was the hivemind hiding behind it they were here to fight.

He could practically hear the war trumpets blare.

A shiver ran down Reign's lean form, and he gripped his fur pelt closer over his body. Also laying on the snow next to him was a simple wooden shield, a backup in case his normal shielding spell failed, the handle gently mutilated by his attempts to grasp it with teeth. The elf and the lizard, right? If he ever lived past this he reminded himself to thank them.

But right now was the time for preparation. What could he really prepare, right now? Most of the effort went in weeks before and now it was too late for any serious fortifications. Back up plans? His eyes surveyed the group. If, say, Tahi-Shei defected (unlikely, but not zero), he'd thunderclap to distract him, put up a shield and run past the barricades. If Vargas turned out to be some weird double agent, he'd just bolt. If one of Mother's minions burst out of the ground Reign will slow down it's heartbeat (do the Hive's minions even have hearts?) until it was a nonthreat. Plans upon plans, and yet he barely knew what was to come.

Small arcs of electricity zipped through his fur, making it stand on end as a warning to those who'd try to attack him. He took a deep breath and looked into the eye of the storm.

Cycles later and with nothing to show for it, Wyvern was coming to the unpleasant realization of just how big the caves really were. Bone had gone into Ursa, and though Wyvern could fly from the end of one tunnel to the mouth of the next easily enough, searching for someone within a cave was much, much harder. Let alone two, when you took Pegasus into account. (No way Bone would've gone into the cave beyond, right?)

Case in point: cycles later. An eternally fruitless search. Et cetera.

But Wyvern was determined not to give up. Bone was family, after all—hers by blood, even if she didn't know her all that well—and she was Carja's as well. Her niece had loved the white dragon, and Wyvern was determined to reunite them.. Today was supposed to have been another sweep of Ursa, but, well…

(Insert a gesture at the surrounding blizzard here.)

She had to admit; she was getting frustrated. Why had Bone just flown off and disappeared, toward Ursa of all places? She breathed fire. Fire dragons weren't supposed to like the cold, right? And there'd been a distinct something wrong with her that had seemed a lot like mind control. Wyvern hadn't learned the details (she'd been a little distracted, okay, and muddled memories of the word Hive didn't mean much to her), but Wyvern would never have left Carja behind if she'd been herself.

Wyvern shook herself out of her thoughts. It was a terrible thing to be caught in a blizzard in the middle of Ursa, though thankfully the temperature itself she could easily withstand. She needed to exit—and Pegasus was closer, so it was the obvious choice.

The bird-dragon struggled through the howling wind, blinking away lashing snowflakes and dry, cold eyes. Trudging through the snow was slow progress, but still preferable to flying in this weather…

Wyvern squinted through the snow. What the HECK are those?

They were massive silhouettes, many of them bigger than she was, and largely obscured by the swirling snow. In fact, she was quite a bit closer than she would have liked. Even their outlines were monstrous, though thankfully there seemed to be a few shorter figures among them. Those were harder to make out—were they friends or food of the giants?

The sounds of bellowed words, muffled by the howling wind. Wyvern stopped in her tracks and shifted nervously. The last time there'd been a large gathering of Gembound hadn't gone so well. What was going on here?

It was cold here.

Well, no shit. But it wasn't just the unrelenting blizzard clawing away at the feline. It was the whole cocktail of emotions, from embarrassment to anger to superiority that led to Twisted being here, practically knee-deep in icy snow, watching a crowd of fellow soldiers around her prepare to throw their lives away. At least, that's how she viewed it. Lambs running into the slaughterhouse.

She barely cared. She was the gembound equivalent of a trashcan for much of her waking hours, so if a fight was how she'll redeem herself, so be it.

The siamese shivered, trying to wrap her broken tail around herself to no effect. A melee fighter sent into the field, just to pull fungus out of others with magic she barely understood. How exciting. Twisted's green eyes scanned the area, her nose sniffing, looking to see if there was anything of notice. All the while her mind was running:

'Run, leap, and tackle. Claws across the underbelly for extra injury. Neck's a weak spot... shit. Do I even know if these things have necks? 'Just a dumb bruiser. Better just settle in here and wait for something interesting to happen. Maybe when this is all over I can take a break from all this gembound drama, just for a bit. Just for a bit...'

When the winds were this high, the obvious sensible decision was to tuck one's wings and walk. But what if there happened to be a trail of black, sinister-looking earth right in your path? What if you happened to not want to walk over that stuff?

What if you were Zhusha, and therefore had very little sense when it came to things like this?

Zhusha had grown since his first cycle, and he'd have liked to think that he was a good, strong flier. And perhaps he was right, but a juvenile crane could only take so much wind. He was buffeted from every direction by merciless air and snow, struggling to fly anywhere near where he wanted to be. It was not a good day to be traversing Ursa--he might have given up and gone back to Pegasus as soon as he'd seen the weather through the tunnel mouth, if only he hadn't been so prideful.

He still might have, despite his pride, if only he hadn't noticed the group of soldiers here.

Zhusha had learned his lesson about challenging powerful things unprepared, but he had to know what was going on and if they would be threats. There were monstrous beings among them, larger and more terrible to behold than the crane fly he'd fought. What good people would associate with those things? So he'd tried to investigate. Tried to approach their encampment and watch from a distance, to see what was going on.

Tried.

A powerful gust threw him into a glittering hill of snow, and a shrill cry of alarm burst involuntarily from his beak. So much for stealth, then. Sneaking was for cowards anyway, Zhusha decided. He squinted into the snow: where were they? Where was he?

Doug understood. Madhukar understood. Tahi-shei, James, Comet -- they all better understand, every last one of them. Madhukar had been in this since the dawn, unbeknownst to her. What would happen here would be life for some and death for many. They walked on white already haunted by red apparitions. Moments, how many moments, before ghosts of the future became ghosts of the past?

She was here, wind and lightning, buzzing thunder. So far from the garden of her dreams. A recalcitrant storm, but how many deaths could she deny? How many white lilies could she crush under her heel? She looked around the area they had made, recognized faces in the gathering crowd. One stood out to her, just this once, and why...?

Madhukar walked over to Twisted. She did not wear her mask, although a cloak of vines adorned her -- a poor excuse for warmth. Did Twisted look like how she might've, hunting that giant bird with the giant James beast? Why was Twisted here of all places, gathered among the many, ready to throw their lives away? What life had the Cat attained, what life did they have to give...?

Now was not the time to wonder about the past or the future, that was clear enough. Only in the present were they awake together, only now was Madhukar drawn in. Curiosity, its final act of destruction. "Cold." An echo of words that had been spoken to her. Would Madhukar mimic another movement of her previous hunting companion...? She attempted to come close, offer her body heat to Twisted. Cycles ago, they had wandered a similarly bluish white-ish storm of snow together, one after the other. Cycles ago, Madhukar had detested this Gembound, wanted nothing to do with "it".

But again, this was no time for a past or a future. In the present... she was sorry. Madhukar was just sorry. And she didn't know why.

@Twisted

The roar of the blizzard continued, swallowing away all but shouted words. The yellow stormlight cast its ominous glare, illuminating Ursa in an eerie glow. And at the edge of the encampment--apart from the rest, nearly lost to the white--stood the Merchant.

As the rest made their preparations, Sora's stare did not go ignored. The Merchant shifted--a slight turn of his head, down and back, and then he turned completely, the mask's holes seeming to stare straight at her. He did not otherwise move, nor did he address her: he simply stared, frosted black crystal in hands.

Then Tahi-shei reached out with his magic: and the overwhelming roar of black swept over his mind and perception. Opening himself to the magic, he now felt truly what the others did not: and the Merchant's gaze swept to him, hands tightening around the black stone. It came over him in silence: as though the world had swept away, breathless and icy cold, and Ursa abruptly went black. Empty. Void. All around him loomed some hungry thing--some ravenous, impossibly-powerful sentience that clawed at the end of a magic leash, straining to escape, to reach him, and the rest--to consume. "Do not reach... for what lies... within the stone," the Merchant rasped, sharply, and Tahi was thrust back into reality, his mind freed from the clawing chaos in the stone. It had nearly pulled him in. It had nearly caught onto him, ripped claws into his fabric and torn himself into this plane. For a moment the Merchant stared at him: and then turned away, again, in silence. The entity in the stone had vastly eclipsed anything else that might lie within this cave--but if he'd managed to be attentive past the sudden horrific vision, he perhaps could have sensed nothing bar the magic cast by his compatriots, a dim glow in the background black. Only Tahi-shei will have seen this vision.

It was Giggle who would spot the shapes above, with her magic: two of them, circling high overhead, where even magic would not spot them without an attentive gaze. They were Ghostbirds, though likely none present would be familiar with the species. Their fungus-laced forms were struggling against the storm, the winds tossing even their soaring-adapted bodies to and fro. This was a weather they would land for, or fly too high to be touched by; but Mother had sent them, kept them circling, watching, and the storm was keeping them from their duties. They had, in fact, lost sight of the group completely; and once attention was called to them, their pale shapes might be picked out where they flailed against the winds above. The storm thrust them lower, within reach of magic, should others choose to try and pick them off.

Nemo would find flight much easier for himself: a smoother air current, holding back the worst of the battering winds. Certainly it would still be difficult--but any experienced flyer on his air current (so long as he could maintain it) could navigate the greatly-lessened gusts that buffeted their wings.

To Twisted, everything seemed perfectly safe.

And lastly Zhusha--blown away into the snow, lost in the blinding swirl of flakes and the icy cut of the wind--would need to attempt to find his way to the group, somehow. But nothing hunted him; nothing sprang from within the blizzard's cloak. He was left alone.

_____________________________________

Ahead, there lay three potential routes. The storm would certainly make navigation more difficult, but at times the possible destinations were briefly visible in short glimpses through the curtains of sweeping snow.

The Gembound could stick north, and head to the closer Drowned Forest by sticking near the northern cave wall.

Alternatively, the group may choose to head for the nearby mountains, Ursa Minor being the first that they would reach.

Lastly, they may choose to head out over open snow south of the mountains.

_____________________________________

The Ursa Assault Has Begun.

In order to keep the thread moving, it is suggested that Gembound choose a direction and begin travel in this round. It is asked that Tahi-Shei be allowed to post first, as leader (after Giggle is posted announcing Ghostbirds), but he may choose to ask opinions rather than decide a course; and others are free to refuse or follow, regardless. Participants may continue to roll for perception or detection checks, or continued preparation (or any other action they choose) as they travel.

New participants may still join and set out with the group this round.

The next GM post will occur in one week's time.

@Tahi-shei (Sora) @Madhukar @Twisted @Marshmallow @Nemo @Reign @Pride (Giggle, Nidhogg) @Draconua @Wyvern (Zhusha)

Giggle squinted upward, oblivious to the drama unfolding at the Merchant's hands (and Tahi's mind). "BIRDS, OVERHEAD," she called out, her rough voice nearing a shout to be heard over the winds. "INFECTED." And then the storm had thrust them down, their frantically-flailing wings in reach of magic. She didn't think any of her magic would reach them, up there--but she could try.

She reached out her mind, dark eyes narrowed against the bite of the winds, and did her best to impart a vision: the sudden sweep of dark wings overhead, the thud and predatory eye of a dragon or perhaps a giant bat: a threat above to shock the bird into a dive. With it she attempted to send terror, fear, a forced response to overcome any of the control that Mother might impart.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

Tahi-shei was blind and deaf to Marshmallow and to Vargas’s advice. If he’d been aware, he might have thanked the Master for his idea, and reassured Marshmallow that she’d be safe if only she stayed close to him. Having eyes could be helpful.

His own vacant stare snapped to the direction of the Masked Merchant and held there. He was stiff, paralyzed — the overwhelming black stole his breath.

Tahi knew what chaos felt like. He had been on the wrong end of a Valkhound’s spell on two occasions, and had borne the bruises and burns of the Creator’s fury. But this... this was not the internal, half-feral whispers of desire granted by a small taste of chaos.

This was a predator, Tahi-shei realized. Or perhaps not, not consciously, half-feral himself with the paralyzing fear of it — he was looking a hunting lion in the eyes, a hunting monster, and every muscle in his body locked. He was afraid that if he moved, it would take him.

Do not reach for what lies within the stone.

Abruptly, he snapped back to himself. Breathed in the sharp, cold air of Ursa and realized, with a sinking dread, that this was what had tinged the Master’s voice with fear.

I’m okay, he thought, reassuring himself and James. I hope you didn’t feel that, too.

Marshmallow’s weight was negligible to Tahi-shei, so he did not yet notice her — luckily, he didn’t particularly mind her hitching a ride. His ears twitched towards Giggle as his heart settled down; he focused himself and noticed them, too. The stone-creature had hid them from his perception. At least Giggle has my back, he thought with a tinge of half-hysterical amusement.

However, he did not have time to dwell on fear. He could have nightmares about that thing later. For now, he was the Fungal Prince.

He took a heartbeat to strategize. If they left the Ghostbirds and moved quietly, they might miss them altogether. However, they could also fail to miss the creatures and have a tail the whole time. If they took a moment to fight them, it would expose their position, but Mother might be unable to send more spies if they moved fast enough. However, Dontacael had the home field advantage, and Tahi-shei would have been a fool to assume otherwise.

He angled his head slightly to be heard better. ”MELEE TAKE THE LEAD, RANGED TAKE THE TAIL. HEALERS, WITH ME IN THE MIDDLE. TAKE OUT THE BIRDS IF YOU CAN.” He didn’t want to reveal them to Mother, not if he could avoid it, but he had no way to alert the crowd other than shouting.

Might as well take a risk.

The lightning didn’t come, but he didn’t beat himself up about it. It was par for the course with him and new magic.

Mother would know where they were going eventually regardless. ”TO THE MOUNTAINS,” he declared, against his better judgement. How else was he meant to tell them, really. ”STAY CLOSE.”

Antlered head swivelled up at the call, and he struggled to make out the birds high above. Could he reach them from here-? He thought so, at least. After a long moment's focus--calculation, concentration--he snatched out for one with his magic; he'd aim to smash one into the other. Maybe, with luck, he could bring them both down lower--or even to the ground--for the others to finish off.

Regardless, he'd follow Tahi-shei afterwards: wary, setting out into the snow, delicate steps dropping him near chest-deep in the drifts. It was bitterly cold; the wind shoved against him, biting through his coat, as though blades of ice were pressed to his flesh.

"If anyone has magic to keep their senses open--especially for fungus, but not only for that... it may be useful," he suggested, calling out to be heard above the howls of the wind.

BIRDS. OVERHEAD. INFECTED.

Madhukar's head twisted up fast. She scooted away from Twisted, forgetting for a moment the gesture she had offered. Sure enough, there they were -- birds. Big freaking birds. She that... she knew. Or had seen before, at least. Tahi-shei was directing them to the mountains, ranged in the back -- guess that's where she was going. Another stag, the white one, said to keep watch for mushrooms if possible. Madhukar wasn't sure she could do that, but she was pretty certain she could take down the birds.

Something must have been pulling them lower, Madhukar didn't know what. Regardless, she was grateful. It'd make them easier to hit. Mother would make them fly in a storm? Did Mother even know who it was up against? It was almost silly how stupid its plan was looking. Madhukar wanted to make it see the consequences of that unforeseen stupidity.

She aimed. The birds were easy enough to keep her eyes on, once spotted. She held out a hand like a guiding sight, and...

Fire.

Two bolts, two whips, latching and freaking on the birds as they came closer and closer to the ground. Madhukar was unwavering. She had seen this enough times before to know not to falter. To focus entirely, completely.

They were staring at certain doom, for one party or the other, and yet Madhukar felt calm. Some kind of tranquility she could not escape. And it was good, of course, because she had to stay calm. She couldn't let her mind wander. Her focus had to be as concrete as the lightning she unspun. Multiple Gembounds here knew the consequences of her failure.

Madhukar wasn't sure what compelled her to be calm, however. It wasn't a threat, pounded into her side with a mallet. The opposite, actually...

"BIRDS DOWN." She was pretty certain. "LOOK OUT."