The heat of Hydra swept into the mouth of Tunnel P in blasts of searing air and scouring sand. Here stood the Masked Merchant--black-cloaked and unmoved by the heat or wind--and behind him, hovering and leering, Master Vargas.

"It's about time," Vargas had muttered, but the Merchant was never one for words. Instead he stood stock-still, waiting for the arrival of the Gembounds. The call, of course, had gone out in weeks past. Word trickling here and there, spread by the servants of Chaos, of another trial with grand rewards and a chance to prove oneself. Warning came with it: do not risk what you are not willing to lose.

That was all clear--the caves had seen these Trials before. What was new, however, was the pile of carefully tied, variously sized satchels--worn cloth and leather--piled around the Merchant in disordered stacks. As each Gembound arrived, they were given a satchel to carry how they saw fit--one suited to their scale. Each of them would find the satchel to be a burden, but not so much so that they could not carry it. Within, they would find three things: a strangely vibrating stone disc (ranging from coin-sized to a massive barbell weight depending on the Gembound's size), two separate pouches of plant seeds, and a number of slender wooden stakes emitting a soft phosphorescent green glow. How strange.

"Take... this," the Merchant told each new arrival. And when they were all there--all gathered, and prepared--he took one eerie, rattling breath and explained. "You will enter... Hydra. You will cross... the Dunes. Spread your... stone discs... across the sands."

"Then move... to the Crucible... climb to its top. Plant the seeds... in the brown pouch. Spread them... widely. Lastly... to the Dead Marsh. The stakes... to mark safe passage... the seeds... in the green pouches... spread throughout."

Vargas cleared his throat, then, to explain where the Merchant had fallen silent. "This Trial is different from the rest! We will make future use of Hydra. To do this, it must be pacified! Should you succeed in these tasks, you will do just that, and be well rewarded. Finish among the first and be further rewarded. Should you prove too weak, you will die." There was indifference, a matter-of-fact emptiness, in his tone. "There are no other rules. Complete the challenges--and survive. But cooperate--sabotage--simply go alone; it is your decision. That is the nature of the Trial."

Another pause, and the Merchant rasped a last, single word: "Begin."

Ahead, the air shimmered with sweltering, oppressive heat; the light was blinding, the sands burning underfoot and dangerously vast to cross. And this was only the very first step...

---

Round One

• Gembounds have each been given a satchel that is heavy enough to add to the strain of Hydra, but not so heavy as to hinder their movement.

• Each must roll to safely traverse the Dunes, spreading the vibrating stone discs across its sands. Any form of roll may be used so long as it makes sense (magic sense to avoid danger, other or physical to avoid or dodge attack, etc.).

• Upon a successful roll (Barely +), please specify in bold text underneath your post/posting table, whether your character chooses to move ahead of those who fail, or remains behind with the pack. In future rolling rounds, Gembounds can help/be helped by, or sabotage/be sabotaged by, those in the same race position as they are; those who finish in the first three, however, garner additional rewards.

• Failing this roll puts one under attack by Sandworms, which sense vibration from beneath the sands.

The next round will begin on August 24th, around 2:00 p.m. EST.

Welcome to the fourth Trial of Hydra. This is a potentially deadly trial of your Gembounds' capabilities, with rewards equal to the risk. Please see this thread for more details, including rolling rules, round length, rewards and theme.

If you did not register in the signups, you may still join on one character. Please be sure to read the thread linked above for information on risks, rewards and rolling first.

@Wisperia (Hymn, Star) @Galleon (Fleas, Anselm) @Ruby-Beta (Glory, Sekith) @Whistle (K'cil, Duck Duck) @Ketur (Morpho, Aran) @Zhusha (Captain, Jim) @Conleth (Huntsman, One) @Reverend (Spinnaker, Kaizer) @Warrior (Corsair, Ivory. Maybe. I have to decide okay)

- IVORY-

It wasn't a wish for the rewards that'd brought her here, or a desire for glory, or to prove herself or any of that. It was just the knowledge that the horrors of the Trials were about to begin again--and that those who would partake, especially the young ones coming in blind, would be helpless against the dangers. She remembered the last one, and the ones who'd gone in unexpecting. Not everyone had come out alive.

She flashed a sidelong glare and a snort at the Merchant, and scuffed the ground with the kick of a hind hoof before lifting a satchel in her teeth. It took some jostling to get the damn thing up over her horns and around her neck and shoulders, but once it was settled there she flexed out her wings and stretched her legs.

"This shit's deadly," she warned the rest, voice strong and soft both. "I'm not here to compete for prizes. Anyone needs help? You ask me." Another narrow-eyed glare was flashed at the Merchant. She'd hoped to find no one here, no lives in danger... but it was what it was, and she couldn't have more dead on her conscience knowing she could've come and helped.

When the word was given to begin, she lurched out in a slow but steady trot. The last time she'd been here it'd been bitterly cold and coated with snowdrifts; this, on the other hand, featured a brutal heat that left her jaws parted and eyes squinting against the light. Ears were soon loose, head low, as she scuffed her way across the flat of the start of the Salt Flats and up into the Dunes.

Screw this place, she thought, seeking a lonesome spot to place her disc. She didn't go far from the others--in case they needed help--but she sought to draw a disc from her satchel with her teeth, and hammer it firmly into the sand with great kicks of her back hooves.

Thud. Thud. Thud. As the others started placing theirs, her loud hammering (and the resultant vibrations) drew unwanted attention.

Ivory froze at the sound of rushing sand. "Oh sh-" she managed, before an enormous, lamprey-fanged, hook-jawed maw twice her body's size erupted from beneath her.

Hydra was where Warrior had grown up, though he hadn't been here in many cycles. He'd wandered some, hibernated a little, and when word went out, he'd returned for much the same reason Ivory was attending: to serve as guide and guardian to others attempting the Trial. He saw it less as a trick (it was his home, after all) than a slightly unfair challenge. But when Ivory spoke, he nodded. "I used to live here. I'll help, too."

Previous trials had seen his coat change from copper-blood dappled bay, to dirty white, and now to a strange and phosphorescent-eyed gray. And while his hide twitched in shivering fear at the memories of the darkness, this trial seemed at least to be the bright heat he remembered. His satchel was heavy, and as he struck out in a confident trot across the sands, he felt a rush of pleasant nostalgia. The scents of sand and salt and distant water; the heat brushing in faint breezes across a sweat-slicked hide... he was home.

"Best to try and move with the sand," he suggested to the others, angling up the dune rather than plodding straight up it. Less displacement. Less vibration.

A keening twist of magic sent red images through his mind: distant shapes far beneath the ground, faint and lying in wait. "There's one that way," he warned, adjusting his angle to avoid it. A few moments later he'd set his disc in the sand, wondering at the strange hum that it gave off. He looked around, then, to see who might need help.

Warrior remains with the group.

The black bird, with his vibrant red face, arrived with a confident strut. His crest was high, his eyes darting around in challenge. "This will be my greatest victory," he had informed no one in particular, but then... more Gembound had begun to arrive.

And still more.

By the time the trial started, Corsair's crest was flat, his head was low and he was crouched off to one side. He'd never been near a crowd this damn big and it was scary.

He mustered up his courage once the trial started, and took wing--his little satchel around his chest. "Can I ride someone?" he asked bluntly. The heat was already making his head pound, seeming to sear its way through his jet feathers. He'd never known heat like this.

He didn't know much about the dangers of Hydra, but his eyes picked the sand below nonetheless for any signs of danger. He was just about to land when he saw the suspicious shifting of sand grains below--and a quick dodge and flap had him winging away from a near thing. The worm did not emerge, though, and he landed on the peak of the next sand dune, oblivious. Here he took out his small stone disc--wincing at the weird vibrations running through his beak--and set it in the sand.

Then he was in flight again, confident in his impending victory.

Corsair is moving ahead.

The raging wind and desert sand isn't the most pleasant, but he's willing to brave it to make this place somewhat nicer. Though this might be a bit more than Reverend bargained for...

"Let us go, then," he nods, before picking up the awkwardly heavy satchel. Not too bad, but it is still unpleasant to bear. Shifting it, he stalks out into the desert sands, ears pinpricking. He doesn't hear much over the other milling gembounds and howling winds.

He thinks too himself, Well, no time like the present. Beating his wings, he takes off into the air. He tries to use his magic to assist him, but it peters out almost immediately, and he can't correct himself against the sandstorm. It veers off course, before plowing headfirst down into a sand dune and getting stuck. It's resultant rampant flailing causes the sand to shift, before giving away into a massive toothed maw bigger than the poor dragon-dog.

This is Not Good.

Ugh... it's too hot. But Kaizer wants to help. Especially since his father loves gardening so much. Wouldn't it be great if Sprig had a new place to tend some plants?

So many gembounds, it thinks, looking over the gathering crowd. It's a lot more than he's used to. But he picks up his satchel, and trots out in the desert sands with everyone else.

The sand in the wind stings its eyes, and it squints as it staggers over the desert sands. As he continues, he reaches in the pouch with his tail, pulling out a disc every few dunes and throwing it into the sand. They're heavier than he thought, but it's still able to throw them far enough away that the wyrms don't come after him directly.

Kaizer is remaining with the group.

Hymn was here for inspiration. The kind that couldn't be found elsewhere. No other cave had sandy winds or giant worms that burst out from the ground to eat you! And something about it all seemed quite poetic. He listened to the instructions and picked up a pouch for himself. It was carried snugly between his wings, yet added a rather noticeable weight.

The wind made a rather pleasing sound as it passed through his emerald, which although could only form a C note, provided some sort of theme song for the party. His first idea for how to pass was to simply fly over it all. However that could not be done without ignoring the disks. Hm. He would definitely have to land when placing them.

Hymn flew low over the sands, burdened by the weight of the pouch. Then they quickly landed, tossed a disk, and got out of there. He wasn't staying for longer than was needed! He continued to make noise/music for the gembounds even if it was hard to hear over the wind.

Hymn is moving ahead.

Star had returned once more to Hydra. The cave where she had hatched, had lived for a brief time, then abruptly left along with Connie. That said, she had not seen Connie in a long time. Connie was the only gembound who knew how to do the bounce. She hoped to see them again sometime.

The Kori Bustard collected a pouch. She was not scared of Hydra. After all, in her short time living there, Star had never encountered any threats. And even if there were any, this would be fun! There was bouncing to be done! Star bounced her way across the sand dunes, flapping her wings every time she jumped for extra height.

It had probably not been a smart idea to treat this like a game. Not that she was. That's just how she did things. It was rather easy to detect her vibrations as a result, sandworm bursting through the ground to try and eat her.

She had stayed near the back of the group, not wanting to draw attention to herself. This had been rather difficult considering she was not the size of a normal gecko. Her eyes darted from side to side, investigating each gembound and noting down their characteristics in her mind. Wisperia was here to gather data, and also for the possible reward that may lie at the end. She wanted to win.

Wisperia collected her pouch, but waited to formulate a plan in her head. Warrior's words of advice were helpful. Move with the sand. She would try to rid herself of the disk as soon as possible before getting out of there. Slow movements were needed, and so were minimal vibrations. This was hard due to the disk of course.

Her large size had meant an even larger disk, and it made sense that she had drawn a sandworm towards her. No amount of planning could have accounted for that. The sandworm burst out of the ground in front of her.

Here Fiver was: A neurological, twitching mess. He was frankly overwhelmed by the amount of other creatures here, in so many colors and sizes and shapes that seemed impossible to his limited worldview. By all accounts he shouldn't have made it at all: his father tracked his every move, and it was only be some miracle that he had happened to hear about the Hydra challenge at all.

The ultimate game, with the ultimate prize. Wouldn't Anubis be proud of him, if he succeeded? Wouldn't he see that he could indeed venture to caves even further beyond?

Never-mind that Fiver had gone through the forbidden cave of Canis-- filled with Mother's spores and spies-- to reach this place. He dare not think too deeply about his father; how much of a panic he must have stirred with his sudden and frankly unusual rebellion. Regardless of whether Anubis knew it or not, however, Fiver had been becoming more and more aware of a deep wrongness inside of him.

With no worldly experience, a stumble to his gait that was getting worse by the day, and his own mind slipping further away from him; the young gembound-- only freshly turned adult-- had no business coming to the deadliest cavern in the entire world for some mysterious prize and glory.

From the outside, it must have looked like a suicide mission.

Do not risk what you are not willing to lose.

Was it apt to say that Fiver had nothing to lose? As he stood, staring out at the blinding desert sands ahead of him, accepting his satchel of strange oddities, he felt more certain of something else. He had everything to gain.

Freedom from his failing body, in one way or another.

Freedom from those who sheltered him from the truth of the world.

Freedom from his own ignorance.

Fiver moved with the group, his own stumbling, irregular rhythm perhaps not enough to attract the attention of the monsters that lived under the sands. He was lucky for another reason: his own form was suited to the desert, the heat energizing him for now rather than overwhelming him.

He found his way along with the group, and paused for a moment to dig out the vibrating disk from his satchel. It buzzed between his teeth in a way that aggravated his already addled mind, but that made him all the more grateful to find a place for it, spaced out from the others. Once half-buried in the sand, he rushed back toward the others, fur prickling as the sands began to shift from something unseen below.

Fiver is staying with the group.