TOPIC | [GALA] Journey into Snowspire Caverns
[center][img]http://imgur.com/sigiZSL.gif[/img][br][img]http://i.imgur.com/Hna9Duz.png[/img][br]Patrat has been transferred to @Jetfeather's [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2078744#post_24698966]PC.[/url][/center]
Day 1 - Prologue
The wind howled through the mountains above them, and despite his fur, Rosehip shivered. They’d been traveling for three days now, braving the glacial peaks in an attempt to cross Frostpine pass before the winter storms snowed it in. The Great Blizzard, as it was known, was a fury of gale-force winds, hail and lightning, and it roared from Fortress of Ends every year without fail. It hailed the coming of the Gala, the festival of the iceborn. It was fierce and relentless, sweeping out across the whole of the tundra; it would not end until the warmth of the coast melted its frigid force. For those with the misfortune to be caught out in it… well. It was a mercy if they died frozen and cold, frosted corpses to be buried in the hard earth of the tundra. But predators lurked unseen in the blizzard, too, taking advantage of thick snows, and unwary travellers.
Up ahead, Rosehip could see Lush conversing in soft tones with their guide; an anxious, fluttery fae. If asked, Rosehip would opinion that, in the event of an emergency, the poor dear would be more likely to faint in shock that anything else. Rosehip considered him little better than a prayer to the Icewarden for safe passage. Between the two iceborn and himself walked Hotline – or, more accurately, the guardian did not walk, but, rather, he thundered. Giant as he was, each footfall set the ground a-quiver, puffs of powdered snow set dancing in his wake. And, much as this concerned and infuriated Rosehip (who did not take kindly to being bounced around like a bug, thank you very much!), he drew some small solace in the knowledge that, although the dark-scaled, pink-finned abyssal was practically a giant, luminescent beacon to every wolf and yeti for miles around, his bulk would equally deter those dangers from ambushing the party of four.
Rosehip hoped that was the case. Not that hope counted for much in the domain of the frozen god.
“Oh, Rosehip!”
Rosehip startled out his thoughts. He whipped around, faintly alarmed, but relaxed upon seeing the gentle visage of his boyfriend.
“Ah, Lush,” he smiled. He huffed as a white shape blocked his vision, and shook snowflakes from his mane, “I assume you’re here to tell me that we’re about to stop our weary trek. Perhaps at some nice warm shelter, no less?”
The other tundra winced, the band of dark blue upon his muzzle scrunching. He shook his head, and Rosehip visibly deflated. It wasn’t as if he had expected it to be the case, but, well. A buck could dream, couldn’t he?
“Rosehip… I’m afraid we may not make it through the pass. Harold fears the blizzard is blowing in early, and that the passage may close before we reach it. I, uh, thought it best to confer with you and Hotline before we decided on a plan of action.” Lush’s snow-pale eyes searched his own anxiously, and Rosehip felt a twinge of sympathy.
This trip was so important for Lush; it was the first time in twenty years that Lush had gone back to see the family that had all but disowned him. His family may have sent the invite, but both tundras knew that among certain branches of the trading company, Lush was still seen as spoilt, too wild for his own good, and not fit to inherit a shred of the Winterborn empire (such as it was). Rosehip thought that, for second-rate traders, they took the whole business far too seriously, but, alas, that seemed to be the flaw of all iceborn. That sort of carry on, he believed, should be reserved for nobility and the filthy rich; Lush’s family was neither, as much as they held aspirations to both.
But, whatever he thought of them, they meant something to his lover, and so Rosehip sent a private curse to them, the weather, and the Icewarden. His boyfriend deserved a smooth trip, a warm reception from his family,and a better partner.
Rosehip mulled his words over before he spoke. “I believe that… ah, that it might be best to press on. Surely there is some shelter in the area? A copse of trees, perhaps? Though I would be lying if I said I was not still holding out for that cozy cabin. I am ever the optimist, after all,” he winked, bumping his partner playfully. Rosehip was not a particularly useful dragon, but, if there was one thing he could do in the face of disaster, it was inject humour into a dire situation. Or attempt to.
Lush’s frown disappeared in a smile, a half-chuckle reverberating in his throat. Good.
“What’s so funny, huh?” A voice growled from above them, and both Lush and Rosehip swung their heads up in surprise.
“Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with, darling,” Rosehip smiled, sweet as honey. He was not terribly fond of the guardian, not in the slightest. Hotline had been pulled towards Lush, his Charge instinct eventually leading him towards his 'destiny'. Not that it mattered; what he had been drawn to guardahem was long gone; not that the abyssal cared. He wouldn’t’ve had done anything to keep the Charge cough intact cough, and, having confirmed his abject failure as a guardian, Hotline went happily back to being a two-bit thug.
Unfortunately, word had spread through the docks about their departure to the Southern Icefields, and for whatever reason, Hotline had decided to tag along. Lush had reasoned that, at least, despite his less-than-stellar performance when it came to guarding, Hotline had at least never failed in the department of fighting. Not to mention, he looked as vicious as a sixty-foot plague dragon should.
Said plague eyes were now being narrowed suspiciously at him. Lush, wise to the nature of their relationship, stepped in between them before either could throw an insult.
“Oh, Hotline," Lush coughed, nervous, "We have some bad news. The pass may… may close before we reach it. I wanted to consult with you before deciding on any plan of action.”
Rosehip rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Lush was too diplomatic for his own good. Who cared what muscles-for-brains thought? Assuming he could think.
“We go keep going,” Hotline rumbled, “Only weaklings turn tail and retreat.” He snorted derisively and swung his head away from the two tundras, dismissing them both as he continued forward. Lush sighed – clearly this was not what he had wanted to hear from either of them – but turned to follow the guardian.
Only to stop in his tracks as all three of them noticed their guide. He was a fair ways ahead, hovering above a small ridge, looking down at whatever was below him. Though he was normally a bundle of nerves, he seemed far more terrified than usual. His fins were frantic, fanning up and down in rippling motions that meant one thing, and one thing only.
Danger.
“Harold?” Lush called, taking a pace forward. Rosehip stayed rooted to the spot; the fur upon his spine quivered like the fae's fins. Something deep within his instincts screamed for him to turn tail and run, but he did not move. Above them, Hotline was also noticeably still.
“Master Lush, you might want to see this.” The fae turned back to look at them, his monotone call barely louder than a squeak. While it lacked in inflection, his panic was more than clear, his white eyes wide. Lush opened his mouth to ask what the matter was, but, alas, he never got the chance.
For a nochnyr lunged out from some unseen perch, and snatched the fae out of the air, fangs sinking into his throat.
And, quick as a flash, the pair disappeared below the ridge.
The three stood in a shocked silence for half a second, frozen. This was just enough time for Rosehip to think; well, heck.
They surged as one over the ridge, pelting headlong towards their guide.
The scene over the ridge was horrific. Rosehip didn’t have much time to take it all in, fast as he was going, but what he saw was more than enough. In front of them stretched a caravan, a mess of splintered wood and broken bodies. There was a tundra lying dead, tangled in bolts of bright cloth. An imp lay dead, giant antlers snapped, body bleeding from oh so many places. He saw flashes of crimson, blood and bodies and nochnyr all so bright and so terribly red. As chaos exploded around him, Rosehip charged.
It was not hard to spot his quarry, for the nochnyr, perhaps knowing it would be hunted, was dashing straight across the wreckage and away from him. Pinning his sights on the skeletal streak, Rosehip drew from his well of magic; his lips curled, revealing the formidable canines all tundras possessed. He lunged for the beast that had Harold in its jaws, claws unsheathed and outstretched, magic burning in his throat.
And he gasped as pain exploded in his side.
The tundra crashed into the snow, shoulder jarring painfully. He felt claws rake his sides, and twisted to protect his belly from the nochnyr who had tackled him mid-air. Snarling, he kicked out at it, hind paws slamming into its angular frame. It landed in the snow away from him, writhing. It didn’t get much further than righting itself, however, for a massive paw slammed down, breaking its bones into the snow. Suddenly, Hotline loomed before him.
“Thanks,” Rosehip coughed, his breath catching in his battered chest. Hotline’s eyes flicked briefly down to acknowledge him, before he hurled his massive frame forwards, jaws snapping shut on a second nochnyr. As Rosehip pushed himself to his feet below the belly of his massive ally, he heard a shriek, and a third and final crunch confirmed that the guardian had grabbed another beast in his teeth. Yet another beast threw itself towards Hotline, and Rosehip saw his pink markings glow as the beast sunk its jaws into the guardian's scales. It dropped to the ground, and Hotline turned, whipping his tail; the tip, thick as the nochnyr itself, slammed the creature away, sending it tumbling in a heap of bones. Rosehip could see the pale and dark blue spines on Hotline's tail rise, a dangerous medley of colour that the tundra knew ran along his back, neck, and head. Though he had never seen Hotline use them before in a fight, the nochnyr corpse proved their effectiveness.
Looking, Rosehip thought that, for all of Hotline's gaudiness, his lighter blue spines were a very pleasant colour... one he had seen before. Lush! The thought of his boyfriend leaped into the forefront of Rosehip’s mind, and a wave of panic crashed over him. How could he have forgotten, and left his side? Rosehip swung his head to and fro, dark eyes darting, searching, looking for that tell-tale snatch of blue.
There! In amongst a trio of snarling nochnyr, Lush fought.
Rosehip broke into a stumbling sprint; his shoulder screamed, burning agony, but he bit down the pain and forced his paws into a steady rhythm. As he passed out from under Hotline’s great shadow, he heard the guardian roar, the deep sound rattling his bones as it reverberated through the mountains. Lush and every nochnyr (that he could see, anyway) turned towards the sound, and Rosehip saw his lover's eyes widen in surprise as the chestnut tundra barrelled towards them. Antlers lowered, Rosehip charged into the nochnyr closest to Lush.
Rosehip and the beast rolled, every tumble a painful jolt, the nochnyr's sharp edges bruising what felt like every inch of Rosehip's body. They broke apart in a blinding spray of white, both thorwn headlong into the snow. Gods, he had to stop running headfirst into his problems, the tundra thought, as he shook his ringing head. It was only by Shadowbinder’s own luck that he caught the scrabble of the nochnyr’s bizarre legs as it recovered, and launched towards him. He braced for the attack.
But, for the second time that day, Rosehip was saved by another. Lush came streaking out of the snow, and there was ichor on his muzzle as he grabbed the beast in his teeth. Lush tossed his head, and the nochnyr thudded into the wall of a shredded caravan with a sickening crack. Turning on his heels, Lush’s jaws opened wide, and as it struggled to get to its feet, he spat a dozen ice shards at the creature. It dropped, and did not rise again.
Rosehip spotted their second assailant through the blinding cloud of white fluttering around them.
“Lush!” His scream rang out, fear lending his words a higher edge than he’d meant. If they weren't in a battle for life and death, he might even have spared the time to be embarrassed.
Lush swung his head, perhaps due to Rosehip’s shout, and his antlers flashed out, ivory tines scraping the sides of the second nochnyr as it rushed him. The thing chittered, thin frame managing to dance out of the brunt of the blow.
Chest heaving, Lush bared his fangs with a growl. The nochnyr hesitated; a fallen dragon was one thing, but Lush – with his fur puffed and hackling, tail lashing and wings flared above him – was far from an easy target. The rose-winged dragon didn’t know if the nochnyr understood what the wisps of steam rising from the corners of his boyfriend’s jaws were, but Rosehip did; it was Lush pulling the cold and moisture out of the air around them, intending to fuel another breath attack.
Not that an intimdating form deterred the creature for long; after all, these things were continuing to harry at Hotline, who Rosehip could dimly hear in the background as a dull but persistent growl. Rosehip got to his feet as the second nochnyr materialised out of the thinning snow cloud. He narrowed his eyes, and felt the familiar pressure build in his throat. If he could work up a half-decent spell, he could make a bolt or shroud and strike back at the nochnyr.
He circled to the left a little, and the nochnyr moved with him. Now he was up and hackling too, they were moving far more cautiously. Lush’s wing brushed his side briefly, a gesture of support. Rosehip flicked his eyes to his lover... and that’s when he spotted it. Over Lush’s shoulder, he caught sight of a dark smudge in the distance. It was half-hidden by the wreckage of a caravan, but plenty dark against the snow around it. Was it a... cave?
“Lush,” he hissed, and his boyfriend furrowed his brows in confusion. Rosehip swung his head back to face their foes, but brushed his tail against his partner’s flank. He addressed them as much as Lush as he spoke.
“Follow my lead.”
Rosehip’s mouth opened, and he stalked towards the two nochnyr, black fog billowing from his jaws, trailing behind him like a set of silks. The nochnyr tensed, ready to pounce, and Rosehip smirked.
“Eat smog, you brutes,” he called, and blew them a kiss. Or, more accurately, he gathered the mist into a shroud, and, in the form of a blown smoke ring, enveloped the two nochnyr. They shrieked in fear, or tried to; the smoke muffled sound as much as it instilled terror and blinded foes.
“Run!” Rosehip called out to Lush, spinning around and sprinting for what he hoped was the cave. To his relief, he heard Lush’s footsteps behind him as he skidded around the caravan. He also heard a muffled shout of ‘Hotline!’ from Lush, and realised that the other tundra was alerting their guardian companion to their escape. Rosehip swore under his breath; if that hadn’t alerted everything still in the area, Hotline’s massive presence squeezing into a cave would. He hoped it wasn’t just a shallow cavern, or they had doomed themselves to a fight within even closer quarters.
As he neared the cave, he saw that it was a long slit in the mountain-side, a gaping, snaggletoothed thing. In any normal circumstance, it would not have have looked as inviting as it did. But, being chased by a pack of nochnyr could, and did, do wonders for caves. And, thank the Eleven, it looked deep.
Rosehip glanced back over his shoulder; Lush was ten paces behind him, with Hotline shadowing, and, crowding in behind them both, the whole horde of nochnyr. The guardian looked less than pleased to be ending the battle so early; Lush was eyeing jagged mouth of the cave.
Rosehip plunged into the cave with his companions, leaving the nochnyr, their guide, and a splintered sign that read ‘Don’t’ far, far behind.
Gods, this took. so. long. I got far too carried away with it, but, #worth. Hopefully each daily entry will be far, far shorter, and those I will post shortly (finger crossed!). But, golly, everyone has such fantastic enteries! And, hmm, I wonder what the stats at the end of this whole thing will be. Considering how massive the branching paths are gonna get, I will be curious to see whether every path was fulfilled, or if we missed several options. I hope not! This is all too interesting to miss a thing.
[Next]
The wind howled through the mountains above them, and despite his fur, Rosehip shivered. They’d been traveling for three days now, braving the glacial peaks in an attempt to cross Frostpine pass before the winter storms snowed it in. The Great Blizzard, as it was known, was a fury of gale-force winds, hail and lightning, and it roared from Fortress of Ends every year without fail. It hailed the coming of the Gala, the festival of the iceborn. It was fierce and relentless, sweeping out across the whole of the tundra; it would not end until the warmth of the coast melted its frigid force. For those with the misfortune to be caught out in it… well. It was a mercy if they died frozen and cold, frosted corpses to be buried in the hard earth of the tundra. But predators lurked unseen in the blizzard, too, taking advantage of thick snows, and unwary travellers.
Up ahead, Rosehip could see Lush conversing in soft tones with their guide; an anxious, fluttery fae. If asked, Rosehip would opinion that, in the event of an emergency, the poor dear would be more likely to faint in shock that anything else. Rosehip considered him little better than a prayer to the Icewarden for safe passage. Between the two iceborn and himself walked Hotline – or, more accurately, the guardian did not walk, but, rather, he thundered. Giant as he was, each footfall set the ground a-quiver, puffs of powdered snow set dancing in his wake. And, much as this concerned and infuriated Rosehip (who did not take kindly to being bounced around like a bug, thank you very much!), he drew some small solace in the knowledge that, although the dark-scaled, pink-finned abyssal was practically a giant, luminescent beacon to every wolf and yeti for miles around, his bulk would equally deter those dangers from ambushing the party of four.
Rosehip hoped that was the case. Not that hope counted for much in the domain of the frozen god.
“Oh, Rosehip!”
Rosehip startled out his thoughts. He whipped around, faintly alarmed, but relaxed upon seeing the gentle visage of his boyfriend.
“Ah, Lush,” he smiled. He huffed as a white shape blocked his vision, and shook snowflakes from his mane, “I assume you’re here to tell me that we’re about to stop our weary trek. Perhaps at some nice warm shelter, no less?”
The other tundra winced, the band of dark blue upon his muzzle scrunching. He shook his head, and Rosehip visibly deflated. It wasn’t as if he had expected it to be the case, but, well. A buck could dream, couldn’t he?
“Rosehip… I’m afraid we may not make it through the pass. Harold fears the blizzard is blowing in early, and that the passage may close before we reach it. I, uh, thought it best to confer with you and Hotline before we decided on a plan of action.” Lush’s snow-pale eyes searched his own anxiously, and Rosehip felt a twinge of sympathy.
This trip was so important for Lush; it was the first time in twenty years that Lush had gone back to see the family that had all but disowned him. His family may have sent the invite, but both tundras knew that among certain branches of the trading company, Lush was still seen as spoilt, too wild for his own good, and not fit to inherit a shred of the Winterborn empire (such as it was). Rosehip thought that, for second-rate traders, they took the whole business far too seriously, but, alas, that seemed to be the flaw of all iceborn. That sort of carry on, he believed, should be reserved for nobility and the filthy rich; Lush’s family was neither, as much as they held aspirations to both.
But, whatever he thought of them, they meant something to his lover, and so Rosehip sent a private curse to them, the weather, and the Icewarden. His boyfriend deserved a smooth trip, a warm reception from his family,
Rosehip mulled his words over before he spoke. “I believe that… ah, that it might be best to press on. Surely there is some shelter in the area? A copse of trees, perhaps? Though I would be lying if I said I was not still holding out for that cozy cabin. I am ever the optimist, after all,” he winked, bumping his partner playfully. Rosehip was not a particularly useful dragon, but, if there was one thing he could do in the face of disaster, it was inject humour into a dire situation. Or attempt to.
Lush’s frown disappeared in a smile, a half-chuckle reverberating in his throat. Good.
“What’s so funny, huh?” A voice growled from above them, and both Lush and Rosehip swung their heads up in surprise.
“Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with, darling,” Rosehip smiled, sweet as honey. He was not terribly fond of the guardian, not in the slightest. Hotline had been pulled towards Lush, his Charge instinct eventually leading him towards his 'destiny'. Not that it mattered; what he had been drawn to guard
Unfortunately, word had spread through the docks about their departure to the Southern Icefields, and for whatever reason, Hotline had decided to tag along. Lush had reasoned that, at least, despite his less-than-stellar performance when it came to guarding, Hotline had at least never failed in the department of fighting. Not to mention, he looked as vicious as a sixty-foot plague dragon should.
Said plague eyes were now being narrowed suspiciously at him. Lush, wise to the nature of their relationship, stepped in between them before either could throw an insult.
“Oh, Hotline," Lush coughed, nervous, "We have some bad news. The pass may… may close before we reach it. I wanted to consult with you before deciding on any plan of action.”
Rosehip rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Lush was too diplomatic for his own good. Who cared what muscles-for-brains thought? Assuming he could think.
“We go keep going,” Hotline rumbled, “Only weaklings turn tail and retreat.” He snorted derisively and swung his head away from the two tundras, dismissing them both as he continued forward. Lush sighed – clearly this was not what he had wanted to hear from either of them – but turned to follow the guardian.
Only to stop in his tracks as all three of them noticed their guide. He was a fair ways ahead, hovering above a small ridge, looking down at whatever was below him. Though he was normally a bundle of nerves, he seemed far more terrified than usual. His fins were frantic, fanning up and down in rippling motions that meant one thing, and one thing only.
Danger.
“Harold?” Lush called, taking a pace forward. Rosehip stayed rooted to the spot; the fur upon his spine quivered like the fae's fins. Something deep within his instincts screamed for him to turn tail and run, but he did not move. Above them, Hotline was also noticeably still.
“Master Lush, you might want to see this.” The fae turned back to look at them, his monotone call barely louder than a squeak. While it lacked in inflection, his panic was more than clear, his white eyes wide. Lush opened his mouth to ask what the matter was, but, alas, he never got the chance.
For a nochnyr lunged out from some unseen perch, and snatched the fae out of the air, fangs sinking into his throat.
And, quick as a flash, the pair disappeared below the ridge.
The three stood in a shocked silence for half a second, frozen. This was just enough time for Rosehip to think; well, heck.
They surged as one over the ridge, pelting headlong towards their guide.
The scene over the ridge was horrific. Rosehip didn’t have much time to take it all in, fast as he was going, but what he saw was more than enough. In front of them stretched a caravan, a mess of splintered wood and broken bodies. There was a tundra lying dead, tangled in bolts of bright cloth. An imp lay dead, giant antlers snapped, body bleeding from oh so many places. He saw flashes of crimson, blood and bodies and nochnyr all so bright and so terribly red. As chaos exploded around him, Rosehip charged.
It was not hard to spot his quarry, for the nochnyr, perhaps knowing it would be hunted, was dashing straight across the wreckage and away from him. Pinning his sights on the skeletal streak, Rosehip drew from his well of magic; his lips curled, revealing the formidable canines all tundras possessed. He lunged for the beast that had Harold in its jaws, claws unsheathed and outstretched, magic burning in his throat.
And he gasped as pain exploded in his side.
The tundra crashed into the snow, shoulder jarring painfully. He felt claws rake his sides, and twisted to protect his belly from the nochnyr who had tackled him mid-air. Snarling, he kicked out at it, hind paws slamming into its angular frame. It landed in the snow away from him, writhing. It didn’t get much further than righting itself, however, for a massive paw slammed down, breaking its bones into the snow. Suddenly, Hotline loomed before him.
“Thanks,” Rosehip coughed, his breath catching in his battered chest. Hotline’s eyes flicked briefly down to acknowledge him, before he hurled his massive frame forwards, jaws snapping shut on a second nochnyr. As Rosehip pushed himself to his feet below the belly of his massive ally, he heard a shriek, and a third and final crunch confirmed that the guardian had grabbed another beast in his teeth. Yet another beast threw itself towards Hotline, and Rosehip saw his pink markings glow as the beast sunk its jaws into the guardian's scales. It dropped to the ground, and Hotline turned, whipping his tail; the tip, thick as the nochnyr itself, slammed the creature away, sending it tumbling in a heap of bones. Rosehip could see the pale and dark blue spines on Hotline's tail rise, a dangerous medley of colour that the tundra knew ran along his back, neck, and head. Though he had never seen Hotline use them before in a fight, the nochnyr corpse proved their effectiveness.
Looking, Rosehip thought that, for all of Hotline's gaudiness, his lighter blue spines were a very pleasant colour... one he had seen before. Lush! The thought of his boyfriend leaped into the forefront of Rosehip’s mind, and a wave of panic crashed over him. How could he have forgotten, and left his side? Rosehip swung his head to and fro, dark eyes darting, searching, looking for that tell-tale snatch of blue.
There! In amongst a trio of snarling nochnyr, Lush fought.
Rosehip broke into a stumbling sprint; his shoulder screamed, burning agony, but he bit down the pain and forced his paws into a steady rhythm. As he passed out from under Hotline’s great shadow, he heard the guardian roar, the deep sound rattling his bones as it reverberated through the mountains. Lush and every nochnyr (that he could see, anyway) turned towards the sound, and Rosehip saw his lover's eyes widen in surprise as the chestnut tundra barrelled towards them. Antlers lowered, Rosehip charged into the nochnyr closest to Lush.
Rosehip and the beast rolled, every tumble a painful jolt, the nochnyr's sharp edges bruising what felt like every inch of Rosehip's body. They broke apart in a blinding spray of white, both thorwn headlong into the snow. Gods, he had to stop running headfirst into his problems, the tundra thought, as he shook his ringing head. It was only by Shadowbinder’s own luck that he caught the scrabble of the nochnyr’s bizarre legs as it recovered, and launched towards him. He braced for the attack.
But, for the second time that day, Rosehip was saved by another. Lush came streaking out of the snow, and there was ichor on his muzzle as he grabbed the beast in his teeth. Lush tossed his head, and the nochnyr thudded into the wall of a shredded caravan with a sickening crack. Turning on his heels, Lush’s jaws opened wide, and as it struggled to get to its feet, he spat a dozen ice shards at the creature. It dropped, and did not rise again.
Rosehip spotted their second assailant through the blinding cloud of white fluttering around them.
“Lush!” His scream rang out, fear lending his words a higher edge than he’d meant. If they weren't in a battle for life and death, he might even have spared the time to be embarrassed.
Lush swung his head, perhaps due to Rosehip’s shout, and his antlers flashed out, ivory tines scraping the sides of the second nochnyr as it rushed him. The thing chittered, thin frame managing to dance out of the brunt of the blow.
Chest heaving, Lush bared his fangs with a growl. The nochnyr hesitated; a fallen dragon was one thing, but Lush – with his fur puffed and hackling, tail lashing and wings flared above him – was far from an easy target. The rose-winged dragon didn’t know if the nochnyr understood what the wisps of steam rising from the corners of his boyfriend’s jaws were, but Rosehip did; it was Lush pulling the cold and moisture out of the air around them, intending to fuel another breath attack.
Not that an intimdating form deterred the creature for long; after all, these things were continuing to harry at Hotline, who Rosehip could dimly hear in the background as a dull but persistent growl. Rosehip got to his feet as the second nochnyr materialised out of the thinning snow cloud. He narrowed his eyes, and felt the familiar pressure build in his throat. If he could work up a half-decent spell, he could make a bolt or shroud and strike back at the nochnyr.
He circled to the left a little, and the nochnyr moved with him. Now he was up and hackling too, they were moving far more cautiously. Lush’s wing brushed his side briefly, a gesture of support. Rosehip flicked his eyes to his lover... and that’s when he spotted it. Over Lush’s shoulder, he caught sight of a dark smudge in the distance. It was half-hidden by the wreckage of a caravan, but plenty dark against the snow around it. Was it a... cave?
“Lush,” he hissed, and his boyfriend furrowed his brows in confusion. Rosehip swung his head back to face their foes, but brushed his tail against his partner’s flank. He addressed them as much as Lush as he spoke.
“Follow my lead.”
Rosehip’s mouth opened, and he stalked towards the two nochnyr, black fog billowing from his jaws, trailing behind him like a set of silks. The nochnyr tensed, ready to pounce, and Rosehip smirked.
“Eat smog, you brutes,” he called, and blew them a kiss. Or, more accurately, he gathered the mist into a shroud, and, in the form of a blown smoke ring, enveloped the two nochnyr. They shrieked in fear, or tried to; the smoke muffled sound as much as it instilled terror and blinded foes.
“Run!” Rosehip called out to Lush, spinning around and sprinting for what he hoped was the cave. To his relief, he heard Lush’s footsteps behind him as he skidded around the caravan. He also heard a muffled shout of ‘Hotline!’ from Lush, and realised that the other tundra was alerting their guardian companion to their escape. Rosehip swore under his breath; if that hadn’t alerted everything still in the area, Hotline’s massive presence squeezing into a cave would. He hoped it wasn’t just a shallow cavern, or they had doomed themselves to a fight within even closer quarters.
As he neared the cave, he saw that it was a long slit in the mountain-side, a gaping, snaggletoothed thing. In any normal circumstance, it would not have have looked as inviting as it did. But, being chased by a pack of nochnyr could, and did, do wonders for caves. And, thank the Eleven, it looked deep.
Rosehip glanced back over his shoulder; Lush was ten paces behind him, with Hotline shadowing, and, crowding in behind them both, the whole horde of nochnyr. The guardian looked less than pleased to be ending the battle so early; Lush was eyeing jagged mouth of the cave.
Rosehip plunged into the cave with his companions, leaving the nochnyr, their guide, and a splintered sign that read ‘Don’t’ far, far behind.
Gods, this took. so. long. I got far too carried away with it, but, #worth. Hopefully each daily entry will be far, far shorter, and those I will post shortly (finger crossed!). But, golly, everyone has such fantastic enteries! And, hmm, I wonder what the stats at the end of this whole thing will be. Considering how massive the branching paths are gonna get, I will be curious to see whether every path was fulfilled, or if we missed several options. I hope not! This is all too interesting to miss a thing.
[Next]
Day 1 - Prologue
The wind howled through the mountains above them, and despite his fur, Rosehip shivered. They’d been traveling for three days now, braving the glacial peaks in an attempt to cross Frostpine pass before the winter storms snowed it in. The Great Blizzard, as it was known, was a fury of gale-force winds, hail and lightning, and it roared from Fortress of Ends every year without fail. It hailed the coming of the Gala, the festival of the iceborn. It was fierce and relentless, sweeping out across the whole of the tundra; it would not end until the warmth of the coast melted its frigid force. For those with the misfortune to be caught out in it… well. It was a mercy if they died frozen and cold, frosted corpses to be buried in the hard earth of the tundra. But predators lurked unseen in the blizzard, too, taking advantage of thick snows, and unwary travellers.
Up ahead, Rosehip could see Lush conversing in soft tones with their guide; an anxious, fluttery fae. If asked, Rosehip would opinion that, in the event of an emergency, the poor dear would be more likely to faint in shock that anything else. Rosehip considered him little better than a prayer to the Icewarden for safe passage. Between the two iceborn and himself walked Hotline – or, more accurately, the guardian did not walk, but, rather, he thundered. Giant as he was, each footfall set the ground a-quiver, puffs of powdered snow set dancing in his wake. And, much as this concerned and infuriated Rosehip (who did not take kindly to being bounced around like a bug, thank you very much!), he drew some small solace in the knowledge that, although the dark-scaled, pink-finned abyssal was practically a giant, luminescent beacon to every wolf and yeti for miles around, his bulk would equally deter those dangers from ambushing the party of four.
Rosehip hoped that was the case. Not that hope counted for much in the domain of the frozen god.
“Oh, Rosehip!”
Rosehip startled out his thoughts. He whipped around, faintly alarmed, but relaxed upon seeing the gentle visage of his boyfriend.
“Ah, Lush,” he smiled. He huffed as a white shape blocked his vision, and shook snowflakes from his mane, “I assume you’re here to tell me that we’re about to stop our weary trek. Perhaps at some nice warm shelter, no less?”
The other tundra winced, the band of dark blue upon his muzzle scrunching. He shook his head, and Rosehip visibly deflated. It wasn’t as if he had expected it to be the case, but, well. A buck could dream, couldn’t he?
“Rosehip… I’m afraid we may not make it through the pass. Harold fears the blizzard is blowing in early, and that the passage may close before we reach it. I, uh, thought it best to confer with you and Hotline before we decided on a plan of action.” Lush’s snow-pale eyes searched his own anxiously, and Rosehip felt a twinge of sympathy.
This trip was so important for Lush; it was the first time in twenty years that Lush had gone back to see the family that had all but disowned him. His family may have sent the invite, but both tundras knew that among certain branches of the trading company, Lush was still seen as spoilt, too wild for his own good, and not fit to inherit a shred of the Winterborn empire (such as it was). Rosehip thought that, for second-rate traders, they took the whole business far too seriously, but, alas, that seemed to be the flaw of all iceborn. That sort of carry on, he believed, should be reserved for nobility and the filthy rich; Lush’s family was neither, as much as they held aspirations to both.
But, whatever he thought of them, they meant something to his lover, and so Rosehip sent a private curse to them, the weather, and the Icewarden. His boyfriend deserved a smooth trip, a warm reception from his family,and a better partner.
Rosehip mulled his words over before he spoke. “I believe that… ah, that it might be best to press on. Surely there is some shelter in the area? A copse of trees, perhaps? Though I would be lying if I said I was not still holding out for that cozy cabin. I am ever the optimist, after all,” he winked, bumping his partner playfully. Rosehip was not a particularly useful dragon, but, if there was one thing he could do in the face of disaster, it was inject humour into a dire situation. Or attempt to.
Lush’s frown disappeared in a smile, a half-chuckle reverberating in his throat. Good.
“What’s so funny, huh?” A voice growled from above them, and both Lush and Rosehip swung their heads up in surprise.
“Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with, darling,” Rosehip smiled, sweet as honey. He was not terribly fond of the guardian, not in the slightest. Hotline had been pulled towards Lush, his Charge instinct eventually leading him towards his 'destiny'. Not that it mattered; what he had been drawn to guardahem was long gone; not that the abyssal cared. He wouldn’t’ve had done anything to keep the Charge cough intact cough, and, having confirmed his abject failure as a guardian, Hotline went happily back to being a two-bit thug.
Unfortunately, word had spread through the docks about their departure to the Southern Icefields, and for whatever reason, Hotline had decided to tag along. Lush had reasoned that, at least, despite his less-than-stellar performance when it came to guarding, Hotline had at least never failed in the department of fighting. Not to mention, he looked as vicious as a sixty-foot plague dragon should.
Said plague eyes were now being narrowed suspiciously at him. Lush, wise to the nature of their relationship, stepped in between them before either could throw an insult.
“Oh, Hotline," Lush coughed, nervous, "We have some bad news. The pass may… may close before we reach it. I wanted to consult with you before deciding on any plan of action.”
Rosehip rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Lush was too diplomatic for his own good. Who cared what muscles-for-brains thought? Assuming he could think.
“We go keep going,” Hotline rumbled, “Only weaklings turn tail and retreat.” He snorted derisively and swung his head away from the two tundras, dismissing them both as he continued forward. Lush sighed – clearly this was not what he had wanted to hear from either of them – but turned to follow the guardian.
Only to stop in his tracks as all three of them noticed their guide. He was a fair ways ahead, hovering above a small ridge, looking down at whatever was below him. Though he was normally a bundle of nerves, he seemed far more terrified than usual. His fins were frantic, fanning up and down in rippling motions that meant one thing, and one thing only.
Danger.
“Harold?” Lush called, taking a pace forward. Rosehip stayed rooted to the spot; the fur upon his spine quivered like the fae's fins. Something deep within his instincts screamed for him to turn tail and run, but he did not move. Above them, Hotline was also noticeably still.
“Master Lush, you might want to see this.” The fae turned back to look at them, his monotone call barely louder than a squeak. While it lacked in inflection, his panic was more than clear, his white eyes wide. Lush opened his mouth to ask what the matter was, but, alas, he never got the chance.
For a nochnyr lunged out from some unseen perch, and snatched the fae out of the air, fangs sinking into his throat.
And, quick as a flash, the pair disappeared below the ridge.
The three stood in a shocked silence for half a second, frozen. This was just enough time for Rosehip to think; well, heck.
They surged as one over the ridge, pelting headlong towards their guide.
The scene over the ridge was horrific. Rosehip didn’t have much time to take it all in, fast as he was going, but what he saw was more than enough. In front of them stretched a caravan, a mess of splintered wood and broken bodies. There was a tundra lying dead, tangled in bolts of bright cloth. An imp lay dead, giant antlers snapped, body bleeding from oh so many places. He saw flashes of crimson, blood and bodies and nochnyr all so bright and so terribly red. As chaos exploded around him, Rosehip charged.
It was not hard to spot his quarry, for the nochnyr, perhaps knowing it would be hunted, was dashing straight across the wreckage and away from him. Pinning his sights on the skeletal streak, Rosehip drew from his well of magic; his lips curled, revealing the formidable canines all tundras possessed. He lunged for the beast that had Harold in its jaws, claws unsheathed and outstretched, magic burning in his throat.
And he gasped as pain exploded in his side.
The tundra crashed into the snow, shoulder jarring painfully. He felt claws rake his sides, and twisted to protect his belly from the nochnyr who had tackled him mid-air. Snarling, he kicked out at it, hind paws slamming into its angular frame. It landed in the snow away from him, writhing. It didn’t get much further than righting itself, however, for a massive paw slammed down, breaking its bones into the snow. Suddenly, Hotline loomed before him.
“Thanks,” Rosehip coughed, his breath catching in his battered chest. Hotline’s eyes flicked briefly down to acknowledge him, before he hurled his massive frame forwards, jaws snapping shut on a second nochnyr. As Rosehip pushed himself to his feet below the belly of his massive ally, he heard a shriek, and a third and final crunch confirmed that the guardian had grabbed another beast in his teeth. Yet another beast threw itself towards Hotline, and Rosehip saw his pink markings glow as the beast sunk its jaws into the guardian's scales. It dropped to the ground, and Hotline turned, whipping his tail; the tip, thick as the nochnyr itself, slammed the creature away, sending it tumbling in a heap of bones. Rosehip could see the pale and dark blue spines on Hotline's tail rise, a dangerous medley of colour that the tundra knew ran along his back, neck, and head. Though he had never seen Hotline use them before in a fight, the nochnyr corpse proved their effectiveness.
Looking, Rosehip thought that, for all of Hotline's gaudiness, his lighter blue spines were a very pleasant colour... one he had seen before. Lush! The thought of his boyfriend leaped into the forefront of Rosehip’s mind, and a wave of panic crashed over him. How could he have forgotten, and left his side? Rosehip swung his head to and fro, dark eyes darting, searching, looking for that tell-tale snatch of blue.
There! In amongst a trio of snarling nochnyr, Lush fought.
Rosehip broke into a stumbling sprint; his shoulder screamed, burning agony, but he bit down the pain and forced his paws into a steady rhythm. As he passed out from under Hotline’s great shadow, he heard the guardian roar, the deep sound rattling his bones as it reverberated through the mountains. Lush and every nochnyr (that he could see, anyway) turned towards the sound, and Rosehip saw his lover's eyes widen in surprise as the chestnut tundra barrelled towards them. Antlers lowered, Rosehip charged into the nochnyr closest to Lush.
Rosehip and the beast rolled, every tumble a painful jolt, the nochnyr's sharp edges bruising what felt like every inch of Rosehip's body. They broke apart in a blinding spray of white, both thorwn headlong into the snow. Gods, he had to stop running headfirst into his problems, the tundra thought, as he shook his ringing head. It was only by Shadowbinder’s own luck that he caught the scrabble of the nochnyr’s bizarre legs as it recovered, and launched towards him. He braced for the attack.
But, for the second time that day, Rosehip was saved by another. Lush came streaking out of the snow, and there was ichor on his muzzle as he grabbed the beast in his teeth. Lush tossed his head, and the nochnyr thudded into the wall of a shredded caravan with a sickening crack. Turning on his heels, Lush’s jaws opened wide, and as it struggled to get to its feet, he spat a dozen ice shards at the creature. It dropped, and did not rise again.
Rosehip spotted their second assailant through the blinding cloud of white fluttering around them.
“Lush!” His scream rang out, fear lending his words a higher edge than he’d meant. If they weren't in a battle for life and death, he might even have spared the time to be embarrassed.
Lush swung his head, perhaps due to Rosehip’s shout, and his antlers flashed out, ivory tines scraping the sides of the second nochnyr as it rushed him. The thing chittered, thin frame managing to dance out of the brunt of the blow.
Chest heaving, Lush bared his fangs with a growl. The nochnyr hesitated; a fallen dragon was one thing, but Lush – with his fur puffed and hackling, tail lashing and wings flared above him – was far from an easy target. The rose-winged dragon didn’t know if the nochnyr understood what the wisps of steam rising from the corners of his boyfriend’s jaws were, but Rosehip did; it was Lush pulling the cold and moisture out of the air around them, intending to fuel another breath attack.
Not that an intimdating form deterred the creature for long; after all, these things were continuing to harry at Hotline, who Rosehip could dimly hear in the background as a dull but persistent growl. Rosehip got to his feet as the second nochnyr materialised out of the thinning snow cloud. He narrowed his eyes, and felt the familiar pressure build in his throat. If he could work up a half-decent spell, he could make a bolt or shroud and strike back at the nochnyr.
He circled to the left a little, and the nochnyr moved with him. Now he was up and hackling too, they were moving far more cautiously. Lush’s wing brushed his side briefly, a gesture of support. Rosehip flicked his eyes to his lover... and that’s when he spotted it. Over Lush’s shoulder, he caught sight of a dark smudge in the distance. It was half-hidden by the wreckage of a caravan, but plenty dark against the snow around it. Was it a... cave?
“Lush,” he hissed, and his boyfriend furrowed his brows in confusion. Rosehip swung his head back to face their foes, but brushed his tail against his partner’s flank. He addressed them as much as Lush as he spoke.
“Follow my lead.”
Rosehip’s mouth opened, and he stalked towards the two nochnyr, black fog billowing from his jaws, trailing behind him like a set of silks. The nochnyr tensed, ready to pounce, and Rosehip smirked.
“Eat smog, you brutes,” he called, and blew them a kiss. Or, more accurately, he gathered the mist into a shroud, and, in the form of a blown smoke ring, enveloped the two nochnyr. They shrieked in fear, or tried to; the smoke muffled sound as much as it instilled terror and blinded foes.
“Run!” Rosehip called out to Lush, spinning around and sprinting for what he hoped was the cave. To his relief, he heard Lush’s footsteps behind him as he skidded around the caravan. He also heard a muffled shout of ‘Hotline!’ from Lush, and realised that the other tundra was alerting their guardian companion to their escape. Rosehip swore under his breath; if that hadn’t alerted everything still in the area, Hotline’s massive presence squeezing into a cave would. He hoped it wasn’t just a shallow cavern, or they had doomed themselves to a fight within even closer quarters.
As he neared the cave, he saw that it was a long slit in the mountain-side, a gaping, snaggletoothed thing. In any normal circumstance, it would not have have looked as inviting as it did. But, being chased by a pack of nochnyr could, and did, do wonders for caves. And, thank the Eleven, it looked deep.
Rosehip glanced back over his shoulder; Lush was ten paces behind him, with Hotline shadowing, and, crowding in behind them both, the whole horde of nochnyr. The guardian looked less than pleased to be ending the battle so early; Lush was eyeing jagged mouth of the cave.
Rosehip plunged into the cave with his companions, leaving the nochnyr, their guide, and a splintered sign that read ‘Don’t’ far, far behind.
Gods, this took. so. long. I got far too carried away with it, but, #worth. Hopefully each daily entry will be far, far shorter, and those I will post shortly (finger crossed!). But, golly, everyone has such fantastic enteries! And, hmm, I wonder what the stats at the end of this whole thing will be. Considering how massive the branching paths are gonna get, I will be curious to see whether every path was fulfilled, or if we missed several options. I hope not! This is all too interesting to miss a thing.
[Next]
The wind howled through the mountains above them, and despite his fur, Rosehip shivered. They’d been traveling for three days now, braving the glacial peaks in an attempt to cross Frostpine pass before the winter storms snowed it in. The Great Blizzard, as it was known, was a fury of gale-force winds, hail and lightning, and it roared from Fortress of Ends every year without fail. It hailed the coming of the Gala, the festival of the iceborn. It was fierce and relentless, sweeping out across the whole of the tundra; it would not end until the warmth of the coast melted its frigid force. For those with the misfortune to be caught out in it… well. It was a mercy if they died frozen and cold, frosted corpses to be buried in the hard earth of the tundra. But predators lurked unseen in the blizzard, too, taking advantage of thick snows, and unwary travellers.
Up ahead, Rosehip could see Lush conversing in soft tones with their guide; an anxious, fluttery fae. If asked, Rosehip would opinion that, in the event of an emergency, the poor dear would be more likely to faint in shock that anything else. Rosehip considered him little better than a prayer to the Icewarden for safe passage. Between the two iceborn and himself walked Hotline – or, more accurately, the guardian did not walk, but, rather, he thundered. Giant as he was, each footfall set the ground a-quiver, puffs of powdered snow set dancing in his wake. And, much as this concerned and infuriated Rosehip (who did not take kindly to being bounced around like a bug, thank you very much!), he drew some small solace in the knowledge that, although the dark-scaled, pink-finned abyssal was practically a giant, luminescent beacon to every wolf and yeti for miles around, his bulk would equally deter those dangers from ambushing the party of four.
Rosehip hoped that was the case. Not that hope counted for much in the domain of the frozen god.
“Oh, Rosehip!”
Rosehip startled out his thoughts. He whipped around, faintly alarmed, but relaxed upon seeing the gentle visage of his boyfriend.
“Ah, Lush,” he smiled. He huffed as a white shape blocked his vision, and shook snowflakes from his mane, “I assume you’re here to tell me that we’re about to stop our weary trek. Perhaps at some nice warm shelter, no less?”
The other tundra winced, the band of dark blue upon his muzzle scrunching. He shook his head, and Rosehip visibly deflated. It wasn’t as if he had expected it to be the case, but, well. A buck could dream, couldn’t he?
“Rosehip… I’m afraid we may not make it through the pass. Harold fears the blizzard is blowing in early, and that the passage may close before we reach it. I, uh, thought it best to confer with you and Hotline before we decided on a plan of action.” Lush’s snow-pale eyes searched his own anxiously, and Rosehip felt a twinge of sympathy.
This trip was so important for Lush; it was the first time in twenty years that Lush had gone back to see the family that had all but disowned him. His family may have sent the invite, but both tundras knew that among certain branches of the trading company, Lush was still seen as spoilt, too wild for his own good, and not fit to inherit a shred of the Winterborn empire (such as it was). Rosehip thought that, for second-rate traders, they took the whole business far too seriously, but, alas, that seemed to be the flaw of all iceborn. That sort of carry on, he believed, should be reserved for nobility and the filthy rich; Lush’s family was neither, as much as they held aspirations to both.
But, whatever he thought of them, they meant something to his lover, and so Rosehip sent a private curse to them, the weather, and the Icewarden. His boyfriend deserved a smooth trip, a warm reception from his family,
Rosehip mulled his words over before he spoke. “I believe that… ah, that it might be best to press on. Surely there is some shelter in the area? A copse of trees, perhaps? Though I would be lying if I said I was not still holding out for that cozy cabin. I am ever the optimist, after all,” he winked, bumping his partner playfully. Rosehip was not a particularly useful dragon, but, if there was one thing he could do in the face of disaster, it was inject humour into a dire situation. Or attempt to.
Lush’s frown disappeared in a smile, a half-chuckle reverberating in his throat. Good.
“What’s so funny, huh?” A voice growled from above them, and both Lush and Rosehip swung their heads up in surprise.
“Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with, darling,” Rosehip smiled, sweet as honey. He was not terribly fond of the guardian, not in the slightest. Hotline had been pulled towards Lush, his Charge instinct eventually leading him towards his 'destiny'. Not that it mattered; what he had been drawn to guard
Unfortunately, word had spread through the docks about their departure to the Southern Icefields, and for whatever reason, Hotline had decided to tag along. Lush had reasoned that, at least, despite his less-than-stellar performance when it came to guarding, Hotline had at least never failed in the department of fighting. Not to mention, he looked as vicious as a sixty-foot plague dragon should.
Said plague eyes were now being narrowed suspiciously at him. Lush, wise to the nature of their relationship, stepped in between them before either could throw an insult.
“Oh, Hotline," Lush coughed, nervous, "We have some bad news. The pass may… may close before we reach it. I wanted to consult with you before deciding on any plan of action.”
Rosehip rolled his eyes. Sometimes, Lush was too diplomatic for his own good. Who cared what muscles-for-brains thought? Assuming he could think.
“We go keep going,” Hotline rumbled, “Only weaklings turn tail and retreat.” He snorted derisively and swung his head away from the two tundras, dismissing them both as he continued forward. Lush sighed – clearly this was not what he had wanted to hear from either of them – but turned to follow the guardian.
Only to stop in his tracks as all three of them noticed their guide. He was a fair ways ahead, hovering above a small ridge, looking down at whatever was below him. Though he was normally a bundle of nerves, he seemed far more terrified than usual. His fins were frantic, fanning up and down in rippling motions that meant one thing, and one thing only.
Danger.
“Harold?” Lush called, taking a pace forward. Rosehip stayed rooted to the spot; the fur upon his spine quivered like the fae's fins. Something deep within his instincts screamed for him to turn tail and run, but he did not move. Above them, Hotline was also noticeably still.
“Master Lush, you might want to see this.” The fae turned back to look at them, his monotone call barely louder than a squeak. While it lacked in inflection, his panic was more than clear, his white eyes wide. Lush opened his mouth to ask what the matter was, but, alas, he never got the chance.
For a nochnyr lunged out from some unseen perch, and snatched the fae out of the air, fangs sinking into his throat.
And, quick as a flash, the pair disappeared below the ridge.
The three stood in a shocked silence for half a second, frozen. This was just enough time for Rosehip to think; well, heck.
They surged as one over the ridge, pelting headlong towards their guide.
The scene over the ridge was horrific. Rosehip didn’t have much time to take it all in, fast as he was going, but what he saw was more than enough. In front of them stretched a caravan, a mess of splintered wood and broken bodies. There was a tundra lying dead, tangled in bolts of bright cloth. An imp lay dead, giant antlers snapped, body bleeding from oh so many places. He saw flashes of crimson, blood and bodies and nochnyr all so bright and so terribly red. As chaos exploded around him, Rosehip charged.
It was not hard to spot his quarry, for the nochnyr, perhaps knowing it would be hunted, was dashing straight across the wreckage and away from him. Pinning his sights on the skeletal streak, Rosehip drew from his well of magic; his lips curled, revealing the formidable canines all tundras possessed. He lunged for the beast that had Harold in its jaws, claws unsheathed and outstretched, magic burning in his throat.
And he gasped as pain exploded in his side.
The tundra crashed into the snow, shoulder jarring painfully. He felt claws rake his sides, and twisted to protect his belly from the nochnyr who had tackled him mid-air. Snarling, he kicked out at it, hind paws slamming into its angular frame. It landed in the snow away from him, writhing. It didn’t get much further than righting itself, however, for a massive paw slammed down, breaking its bones into the snow. Suddenly, Hotline loomed before him.
“Thanks,” Rosehip coughed, his breath catching in his battered chest. Hotline’s eyes flicked briefly down to acknowledge him, before he hurled his massive frame forwards, jaws snapping shut on a second nochnyr. As Rosehip pushed himself to his feet below the belly of his massive ally, he heard a shriek, and a third and final crunch confirmed that the guardian had grabbed another beast in his teeth. Yet another beast threw itself towards Hotline, and Rosehip saw his pink markings glow as the beast sunk its jaws into the guardian's scales. It dropped to the ground, and Hotline turned, whipping his tail; the tip, thick as the nochnyr itself, slammed the creature away, sending it tumbling in a heap of bones. Rosehip could see the pale and dark blue spines on Hotline's tail rise, a dangerous medley of colour that the tundra knew ran along his back, neck, and head. Though he had never seen Hotline use them before in a fight, the nochnyr corpse proved their effectiveness.
Looking, Rosehip thought that, for all of Hotline's gaudiness, his lighter blue spines were a very pleasant colour... one he had seen before. Lush! The thought of his boyfriend leaped into the forefront of Rosehip’s mind, and a wave of panic crashed over him. How could he have forgotten, and left his side? Rosehip swung his head to and fro, dark eyes darting, searching, looking for that tell-tale snatch of blue.
There! In amongst a trio of snarling nochnyr, Lush fought.
Rosehip broke into a stumbling sprint; his shoulder screamed, burning agony, but he bit down the pain and forced his paws into a steady rhythm. As he passed out from under Hotline’s great shadow, he heard the guardian roar, the deep sound rattling his bones as it reverberated through the mountains. Lush and every nochnyr (that he could see, anyway) turned towards the sound, and Rosehip saw his lover's eyes widen in surprise as the chestnut tundra barrelled towards them. Antlers lowered, Rosehip charged into the nochnyr closest to Lush.
Rosehip and the beast rolled, every tumble a painful jolt, the nochnyr's sharp edges bruising what felt like every inch of Rosehip's body. They broke apart in a blinding spray of white, both thorwn headlong into the snow. Gods, he had to stop running headfirst into his problems, the tundra thought, as he shook his ringing head. It was only by Shadowbinder’s own luck that he caught the scrabble of the nochnyr’s bizarre legs as it recovered, and launched towards him. He braced for the attack.
But, for the second time that day, Rosehip was saved by another. Lush came streaking out of the snow, and there was ichor on his muzzle as he grabbed the beast in his teeth. Lush tossed his head, and the nochnyr thudded into the wall of a shredded caravan with a sickening crack. Turning on his heels, Lush’s jaws opened wide, and as it struggled to get to its feet, he spat a dozen ice shards at the creature. It dropped, and did not rise again.
Rosehip spotted their second assailant through the blinding cloud of white fluttering around them.
“Lush!” His scream rang out, fear lending his words a higher edge than he’d meant. If they weren't in a battle for life and death, he might even have spared the time to be embarrassed.
Lush swung his head, perhaps due to Rosehip’s shout, and his antlers flashed out, ivory tines scraping the sides of the second nochnyr as it rushed him. The thing chittered, thin frame managing to dance out of the brunt of the blow.
Chest heaving, Lush bared his fangs with a growl. The nochnyr hesitated; a fallen dragon was one thing, but Lush – with his fur puffed and hackling, tail lashing and wings flared above him – was far from an easy target. The rose-winged dragon didn’t know if the nochnyr understood what the wisps of steam rising from the corners of his boyfriend’s jaws were, but Rosehip did; it was Lush pulling the cold and moisture out of the air around them, intending to fuel another breath attack.
Not that an intimdating form deterred the creature for long; after all, these things were continuing to harry at Hotline, who Rosehip could dimly hear in the background as a dull but persistent growl. Rosehip got to his feet as the second nochnyr materialised out of the thinning snow cloud. He narrowed his eyes, and felt the familiar pressure build in his throat. If he could work up a half-decent spell, he could make a bolt or shroud and strike back at the nochnyr.
He circled to the left a little, and the nochnyr moved with him. Now he was up and hackling too, they were moving far more cautiously. Lush’s wing brushed his side briefly, a gesture of support. Rosehip flicked his eyes to his lover... and that’s when he spotted it. Over Lush’s shoulder, he caught sight of a dark smudge in the distance. It was half-hidden by the wreckage of a caravan, but plenty dark against the snow around it. Was it a... cave?
“Lush,” he hissed, and his boyfriend furrowed his brows in confusion. Rosehip swung his head back to face their foes, but brushed his tail against his partner’s flank. He addressed them as much as Lush as he spoke.
“Follow my lead.”
Rosehip’s mouth opened, and he stalked towards the two nochnyr, black fog billowing from his jaws, trailing behind him like a set of silks. The nochnyr tensed, ready to pounce, and Rosehip smirked.
“Eat smog, you brutes,” he called, and blew them a kiss. Or, more accurately, he gathered the mist into a shroud, and, in the form of a blown smoke ring, enveloped the two nochnyr. They shrieked in fear, or tried to; the smoke muffled sound as much as it instilled terror and blinded foes.
“Run!” Rosehip called out to Lush, spinning around and sprinting for what he hoped was the cave. To his relief, he heard Lush’s footsteps behind him as he skidded around the caravan. He also heard a muffled shout of ‘Hotline!’ from Lush, and realised that the other tundra was alerting their guardian companion to their escape. Rosehip swore under his breath; if that hadn’t alerted everything still in the area, Hotline’s massive presence squeezing into a cave would. He hoped it wasn’t just a shallow cavern, or they had doomed themselves to a fight within even closer quarters.
As he neared the cave, he saw that it was a long slit in the mountain-side, a gaping, snaggletoothed thing. In any normal circumstance, it would not have have looked as inviting as it did. But, being chased by a pack of nochnyr could, and did, do wonders for caves. And, thank the Eleven, it looked deep.
Rosehip glanced back over his shoulder; Lush was ten paces behind him, with Hotline shadowing, and, crowding in behind them both, the whole horde of nochnyr. The guardian looked less than pleased to be ending the battle so early; Lush was eyeing jagged mouth of the cave.
Rosehip plunged into the cave with his companions, leaving the nochnyr, their guide, and a splintered sign that read ‘Don’t’ far, far behind.
Gods, this took. so. long. I got far too carried away with it, but, #worth. Hopefully each daily entry will be far, far shorter, and those I will post shortly (finger crossed!). But, golly, everyone has such fantastic enteries! And, hmm, I wonder what the stats at the end of this whole thing will be. Considering how massive the branching paths are gonna get, I will be curious to see whether every path was fulfilled, or if we missed several options. I hope not! This is all too interesting to miss a thing.
[Next]
Sooo… I was one of the ‘incredibly unlucky’ ones who lost my first aider Augustine on the first rockfall to clipping her wing on sharp rocks, but I think she’s slowly healing?
My glorious golden tank knight in shining armour-skin Mnemeth did the heavy lifting, and Ifrit roasted some serpent like it was nothing. I know I lost Augustine too damn quick, but I’m loving my team of tough guys. I can just imagine them in these rp stories, a lot of work has gone into writing these obviously and it has paid off!!! :D
My group: three fight-oriented, from memory, found the snake- perhaps fight-orientation over flight, as a proportion 2/3 or greater, determined whether the groups found the snake? Just a theory, and I'd love to know if anyone had a chemist to identify the powder too!
My glorious golden tank knight in shining armour-skin Mnemeth did the heavy lifting, and Ifrit roasted some serpent like it was nothing. I know I lost Augustine too damn quick, but I’m loving my team of tough guys. I can just imagine them in these rp stories, a lot of work has gone into writing these obviously and it has paid off!!! :D
My group: three fight-oriented, from memory, found the snake- perhaps fight-orientation over flight, as a proportion 2/3 or greater, determined whether the groups found the snake? Just a theory, and I'd love to know if anyone had a chemist to identify the powder too!
Quote:
We awoke to darkness and an eerie sense of silence. The only sounds were the distant drip of water and the occasional flutter of bat wings. Uncertain of whether it was day or night, but feeling rested enough, we figured this was as good a time as any to pack up and continue our journey. Augustine awoke feeling bruised and battered, but at the very least better than the day before. Unfortunately, with a bit of a limp and a distracting headache, she would be unable to help quite as well as she had been able to before.
Amidst the piles of rock and rubble that filled this area of the trench, we noticed a dark grey vine poking out between a couple of boulders. Looking closer, it became clear that there were a number of flora-filled passages that had become blocked in a recent rockfall.
Thinking that these side passages might be the key to our success, Mnemeth turned to the group and asked if he ought to attempt to move the rubble and clear the passages. With a resounding nod of approval, he lifted the boulders one by one, clearing out each passageway enough for us to pass.
Faced with a web of newly-opened tunnels, we decided to take down their locations and spend a bit of time walking along the main trench before following any of the side passages.
As we progressed through the trench, collecting samples from its walls and carefully plotting out its dimensions, Ifrit stopped to investigate a peculiar set of tracks within the earth below us. Large and serpentine, snaking through the tunnel and still warm from the creature's belly, the tracks surely belonged to a formidable foe.
Of course, we were not the type to back down from our expedition simply because a large slithering beast had recently passed through the area. We continued on, confident that if we did encounter such a creature, we could take care of it (so to speak).
An hour passed and our team, bundled up in our winter gear, noticed a particularly cold breeze coming from above. As we looked up, our eyes were met with the eyes of a snow-white serpent nearing twice the length of the longest imperial. The creatured flicked its tongue and let out a slow hiss.
As the serpent approached, our team readied for the inevitable combat.
Ifrit, dodging the strikes of the terrible snake, whispered a few words under his breath. Moments later, a cone of fire burst out of his mouth, roasting the serpent like some kind of high-quality steak. As the fire burned into the creature's flesh, it flailed in desperation before collapsing into a pile of ash. (You may have overcooked it.)
Worn out from our fight with the serpent, we only walked for another couple of hours before choosing a rocky side passageway to rest in for the night. After making our camp and eating our meal, we logged our activities and slept.
Amidst the piles of rock and rubble that filled this area of the trench, we noticed a dark grey vine poking out between a couple of boulders. Looking closer, it became clear that there were a number of flora-filled passages that had become blocked in a recent rockfall.
Thinking that these side passages might be the key to our success, Mnemeth turned to the group and asked if he ought to attempt to move the rubble and clear the passages. With a resounding nod of approval, he lifted the boulders one by one, clearing out each passageway enough for us to pass.
Faced with a web of newly-opened tunnels, we decided to take down their locations and spend a bit of time walking along the main trench before following any of the side passages.
As we progressed through the trench, collecting samples from its walls and carefully plotting out its dimensions, Ifrit stopped to investigate a peculiar set of tracks within the earth below us. Large and serpentine, snaking through the tunnel and still warm from the creature's belly, the tracks surely belonged to a formidable foe.
Of course, we were not the type to back down from our expedition simply because a large slithering beast had recently passed through the area. We continued on, confident that if we did encounter such a creature, we could take care of it (so to speak).
An hour passed and our team, bundled up in our winter gear, noticed a particularly cold breeze coming from above. As we looked up, our eyes were met with the eyes of a snow-white serpent nearing twice the length of the longest imperial. The creatured flicked its tongue and let out a slow hiss.
As the serpent approached, our team readied for the inevitable combat.
Ifrit, dodging the strikes of the terrible snake, whispered a few words under his breath. Moments later, a cone of fire burst out of his mouth, roasting the serpent like some kind of high-quality steak. As the fire burned into the creature's flesh, it flailed in desperation before collapsing into a pile of ash. (You may have overcooked it.)
Worn out from our fight with the serpent, we only walked for another couple of hours before choosing a rocky side passageway to rest in for the night. After making our camp and eating our meal, we logged our activities and slept.
Sooo… I was one of the ‘incredibly unlucky’ ones who lost my first aider Augustine on the first rockfall to clipping her wing on sharp rocks, but I think she’s slowly healing?
My glorious golden tank knight in shining armour-skin Mnemeth did the heavy lifting, and Ifrit roasted some serpent like it was nothing. I know I lost Augustine too damn quick, but I’m loving my team of tough guys. I can just imagine them in these rp stories, a lot of work has gone into writing these obviously and it has paid off!!! :D
My group: three fight-oriented, from memory, found the snake- perhaps fight-orientation over flight, as a proportion 2/3 or greater, determined whether the groups found the snake? Just a theory, and I'd love to know if anyone had a chemist to identify the powder too!
My glorious golden tank knight in shining armour-skin Mnemeth did the heavy lifting, and Ifrit roasted some serpent like it was nothing. I know I lost Augustine too damn quick, but I’m loving my team of tough guys. I can just imagine them in these rp stories, a lot of work has gone into writing these obviously and it has paid off!!! :D
My group: three fight-oriented, from memory, found the snake- perhaps fight-orientation over flight, as a proportion 2/3 or greater, determined whether the groups found the snake? Just a theory, and I'd love to know if anyone had a chemist to identify the powder too!
Quote:
We awoke to darkness and an eerie sense of silence. The only sounds were the distant drip of water and the occasional flutter of bat wings. Uncertain of whether it was day or night, but feeling rested enough, we figured this was as good a time as any to pack up and continue our journey. Augustine awoke feeling bruised and battered, but at the very least better than the day before. Unfortunately, with a bit of a limp and a distracting headache, she would be unable to help quite as well as she had been able to before.
Amidst the piles of rock and rubble that filled this area of the trench, we noticed a dark grey vine poking out between a couple of boulders. Looking closer, it became clear that there were a number of flora-filled passages that had become blocked in a recent rockfall.
Thinking that these side passages might be the key to our success, Mnemeth turned to the group and asked if he ought to attempt to move the rubble and clear the passages. With a resounding nod of approval, he lifted the boulders one by one, clearing out each passageway enough for us to pass.
Faced with a web of newly-opened tunnels, we decided to take down their locations and spend a bit of time walking along the main trench before following any of the side passages.
As we progressed through the trench, collecting samples from its walls and carefully plotting out its dimensions, Ifrit stopped to investigate a peculiar set of tracks within the earth below us. Large and serpentine, snaking through the tunnel and still warm from the creature's belly, the tracks surely belonged to a formidable foe.
Of course, we were not the type to back down from our expedition simply because a large slithering beast had recently passed through the area. We continued on, confident that if we did encounter such a creature, we could take care of it (so to speak).
An hour passed and our team, bundled up in our winter gear, noticed a particularly cold breeze coming from above. As we looked up, our eyes were met with the eyes of a snow-white serpent nearing twice the length of the longest imperial. The creatured flicked its tongue and let out a slow hiss.
As the serpent approached, our team readied for the inevitable combat.
Ifrit, dodging the strikes of the terrible snake, whispered a few words under his breath. Moments later, a cone of fire burst out of his mouth, roasting the serpent like some kind of high-quality steak. As the fire burned into the creature's flesh, it flailed in desperation before collapsing into a pile of ash. (You may have overcooked it.)
Worn out from our fight with the serpent, we only walked for another couple of hours before choosing a rocky side passageway to rest in for the night. After making our camp and eating our meal, we logged our activities and slept.
Amidst the piles of rock and rubble that filled this area of the trench, we noticed a dark grey vine poking out between a couple of boulders. Looking closer, it became clear that there were a number of flora-filled passages that had become blocked in a recent rockfall.
Thinking that these side passages might be the key to our success, Mnemeth turned to the group and asked if he ought to attempt to move the rubble and clear the passages. With a resounding nod of approval, he lifted the boulders one by one, clearing out each passageway enough for us to pass.
Faced with a web of newly-opened tunnels, we decided to take down their locations and spend a bit of time walking along the main trench before following any of the side passages.
As we progressed through the trench, collecting samples from its walls and carefully plotting out its dimensions, Ifrit stopped to investigate a peculiar set of tracks within the earth below us. Large and serpentine, snaking through the tunnel and still warm from the creature's belly, the tracks surely belonged to a formidable foe.
Of course, we were not the type to back down from our expedition simply because a large slithering beast had recently passed through the area. We continued on, confident that if we did encounter such a creature, we could take care of it (so to speak).
An hour passed and our team, bundled up in our winter gear, noticed a particularly cold breeze coming from above. As we looked up, our eyes were met with the eyes of a snow-white serpent nearing twice the length of the longest imperial. The creatured flicked its tongue and let out a slow hiss.
As the serpent approached, our team readied for the inevitable combat.
Ifrit, dodging the strikes of the terrible snake, whispered a few words under his breath. Moments later, a cone of fire burst out of his mouth, roasting the serpent like some kind of high-quality steak. As the fire burned into the creature's flesh, it flailed in desperation before collapsing into a pile of ash. (You may have overcooked it.)
Worn out from our fight with the serpent, we only walked for another couple of hours before choosing a rocky side passageway to rest in for the night. After making our camp and eating our meal, we logged our activities and slept.
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Team Pumice woke up well rested, if a little cold and stiff. A bit of wandering around to reconfirm their surroundings quickly fixed that problem though. They decided on a path that lead them down many winding and branching passageways, each covered with diverse species of plant and fungus.
"Look at these, I think these are subterranean clover. You don't see these a lot at home." Matte jotted down a note about the plant and collected a small sample.
"I thought your thing was rocks, not plants," Charlie commented.
"Ok one: I'm an herbivore and have probably seen more plants than you, and two: I don't see anyone else stepping up to be the Resident Scientist so I'm gonna grab all the junk I can." Matte poked a mushroom and sneezed at the glowing spores it released. The group continued to walk, collecting samples of the various subterranean plant life, when Matte suddenly realized she had to blink a lot to keep her eyes open and breathing felt kind of funny. "Hey, does the air feel kind of heavy to anyone else?" As she asked this her eyes closed again and she nearly tripped over herself.
"The plants are so pretty," Alcor said in a distant voice, "So many colors. Oh look, they're moving."
Charlie bumped into Matte as the Tundra stumbled, snapping her out of her own stupor. She looked around the cave, aware that her own vision was starting to swim too. She didn't know much about plants, but there were a lot of fungi here and she knew that fungi released spores. "Oh sh-!" she muttered a curse under her breath and started to fumble with her bag. "Guys stop breathing it in!" the alarm in her voice was apparent. Charlie rummaged through her bag and quickly pulled out three pieces of spare cloth. She tied one piece around her own face then quickly went to the others. "Alcor, stop moving."
"Oh-kay," the Mirror said drowsily, slumping to the floor. Charlie tied a mask on him then did the same for Matte.
"We have to go back," she said holding her mask closer to her face. The other two were already more alert after breathing the filtered air for a minute. They all agreed that staying in that tunnel would be dangerous, so they backtracked to find a new path. On their way Matte still stopped plenty of times to pick up rocks.
"Ooh! Shiny!" she exclaimed for the tenth time, pouncing on a patch of ground. The others watched as she unearthed her treasure and chipped off a small sample.
Charlie sighed, "It's just nickel again."
"Hey, it still has its uses," Matte reassured her. She tucked the sample into her bag along with a clawful of "interesting" pebbles. "Okay fine, I promise no more stopping unless it's something really unusual." Just as she said that the group came to the entrance of a massive icy tunnel. They all stopped for a moment to take in the impressive sight. "Oh woah," Matte's breath fogged in the suddenly colder atmosphere the ice created.
"Well adventure awaits!" Charlie stepped forward and looked back at her teammates. "Shall we?" They took to the ice tunnel, claws clicking on the slick floor. Matte wondered what could have made the structure. An old underground river perhaps? Mmm, maybe but not likely. Charlie played with the icy walls, digging her claws in and drawing patterns as they walked, and Alcor followed at a distance behind. Something bothered him, but he couldn't put a talon on it. He pulled his mask down. They were safe anyway and having it in the corner of his vision distracted him. He looked all around at the tunnel walls trying to figure out what it was. Switching to heat vision revealed the cause of his uncertainty. The walls were ice but they were not as cold as old ice should be, and looking back he could see the trail of something massive quickly cooling on the floor.
"Uhh...guys?" he called out to the girls up ahead. Matte and Charlie turned to face him. "This tunnel... It appears to have been recently dug out. And whatever dug it, seems to have gone that way." He pointed to where they had come from. This was it, the first big mystery. They had to know what was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. Team Pumice turned around, steeled themselves for whatever awaited, and followed the path of the tunnel-borer.
"Look at these, I think these are subterranean clover. You don't see these a lot at home." Matte jotted down a note about the plant and collected a small sample.
"I thought your thing was rocks, not plants," Charlie commented.
"Ok one: I'm an herbivore and have probably seen more plants than you, and two: I don't see anyone else stepping up to be the Resident Scientist so I'm gonna grab all the junk I can." Matte poked a mushroom and sneezed at the glowing spores it released. The group continued to walk, collecting samples of the various subterranean plant life, when Matte suddenly realized she had to blink a lot to keep her eyes open and breathing felt kind of funny. "Hey, does the air feel kind of heavy to anyone else?" As she asked this her eyes closed again and she nearly tripped over herself.
"The plants are so pretty," Alcor said in a distant voice, "So many colors. Oh look, they're moving."
Charlie bumped into Matte as the Tundra stumbled, snapping her out of her own stupor. She looked around the cave, aware that her own vision was starting to swim too. She didn't know much about plants, but there were a lot of fungi here and she knew that fungi released spores. "Oh sh-!" she muttered a curse under her breath and started to fumble with her bag. "Guys stop breathing it in!" the alarm in her voice was apparent. Charlie rummaged through her bag and quickly pulled out three pieces of spare cloth. She tied one piece around her own face then quickly went to the others. "Alcor, stop moving."
"Oh-kay," the Mirror said drowsily, slumping to the floor. Charlie tied a mask on him then did the same for Matte.
"We have to go back," she said holding her mask closer to her face. The other two were already more alert after breathing the filtered air for a minute. They all agreed that staying in that tunnel would be dangerous, so they backtracked to find a new path. On their way Matte still stopped plenty of times to pick up rocks.
"Ooh! Shiny!" she exclaimed for the tenth time, pouncing on a patch of ground. The others watched as she unearthed her treasure and chipped off a small sample.
Charlie sighed, "It's just nickel again."
"Hey, it still has its uses," Matte reassured her. She tucked the sample into her bag along with a clawful of "interesting" pebbles. "Okay fine, I promise no more stopping unless it's something really unusual." Just as she said that the group came to the entrance of a massive icy tunnel. They all stopped for a moment to take in the impressive sight. "Oh woah," Matte's breath fogged in the suddenly colder atmosphere the ice created.
"Well adventure awaits!" Charlie stepped forward and looked back at her teammates. "Shall we?" They took to the ice tunnel, claws clicking on the slick floor. Matte wondered what could have made the structure. An old underground river perhaps? Mmm, maybe but not likely. Charlie played with the icy walls, digging her claws in and drawing patterns as they walked, and Alcor followed at a distance behind. Something bothered him, but he couldn't put a talon on it. He pulled his mask down. They were safe anyway and having it in the corner of his vision distracted him. He looked all around at the tunnel walls trying to figure out what it was. Switching to heat vision revealed the cause of his uncertainty. The walls were ice but they were not as cold as old ice should be, and looking back he could see the trail of something massive quickly cooling on the floor.
"Uhh...guys?" he called out to the girls up ahead. Matte and Charlie turned to face him. "This tunnel... It appears to have been recently dug out. And whatever dug it, seems to have gone that way." He pointed to where they had come from. This was it, the first big mystery. They had to know what was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. Team Pumice turned around, steeled themselves for whatever awaited, and followed the path of the tunnel-borer.
[b]Log 2 - Snowspire Caverns[/b]
[size=2][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/forums/forga/2089268/61#post_25236320]First[/url] | Next[/size]
Your recently repaired sentry squawker lets out a raucous trill just in time to alert [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&tab=dragon&id=279801&did=29155748]you[/url] to the heavy [i]flap, flap[/i] of leaden wings quickly incoming. The [url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?p=lair&id=279801&tab=dragon&did=28949326]Death Seeker[/url] lands on your desk with an unceremonious thud. It doesn't even wait for its treat after you pull out the letter, the moment its letterholder is empty it's off. If you didn't know better, you might have thought it seemed... a lot more tired than usual.
The parchment unravels fairly easily, Nephele's blocky text greeting you first, alongside a small scribbly doodle of an odd-looking fungus and a dragon lying on its back beside it with x's over its eyes, and small z's clustered around their head.
[columns]
[quote=Nephele]
[i]MARU, WE ENDED UP ALMOST GETTING KNOCKED OUT BY PHEROMONE MUSHROOMS. MARI REALISED IT BEFORE IT GOT BAD. WE ARE OKAY NOW. IN STRANGE CAVE THAT DYS SAYS MIGHT HAVE BEEN MADE BY AN ODD TUNNEL-DIGGER. LOOKS LIKE ICE COATS THE SIDES OF THE TUNNELS. VERY NEAT. VERY STRAIGHT. THE OTHERS ARE RESTING. YOU SHOULD REST SOON TOO. SEND MY LOVE TO NERU AND MORT AND BORG. MY LOVE TO YOU ALSO.
-YOUR AUNT NEPH[/i] [/quote]
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[img]https://www1.flightrising.com/rendern/portraits/284327/28432640p.png[/img]
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then, in a hasty script,
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[quote=Dysme]
[i]Hey, it's your dad. Have you noticed that we're taking turns at explaining what's been up with us all this time? Despite still learning how to write in Draconic well, it looks like Nephele's done a pretty fair job at explaining it. Your return letter brings me some comfort, but I insist, remind Capade to keep an extra watch on the eastern front. I will mention, it is fortunate that Isra's death seeker bird can still find us here, but... it's not quite a comforting thought. death seekers. ominous birds, they are. I wonder how Isra acquired it? Don't go into her section of the lair to ask, though. If you can find her anywhere else, I would be glad for a reply.
If you worry for us, don't. It looks like whoever carved out this tunnel is long ahead of us, and won't turn back anytime soon. Your mother is already asleep, and it looks like Nephele's down for the count as well. It's cold in these tunnels, so we're sleeping all packed up together, here. Trust them to think that I'll obviously be the warmest just because I've got fur, so it looks like I'm delegated to the dragon in the middle. Anyways, I will close here. It's a little dark here, and our fire will go out soon without any more tinder added to it. If you notice that nights start looking too dark, too, then I've heard that Onyx's pearl glows in the dark. Onyx is strong enough to fight off any enemies, should they come. Stay safe, daughter of mine. Stay healthy. Stay alert.[/i]
[/quote]
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...the letter ends here.
Log 2 - Snowspire Caverns
First | Next
Your recently repaired sentry squawker lets out a raucous trill just in time to alert you to the heavy flap, flap of leaden wings quickly incoming. The Death Seeker lands on your desk with an unceremonious thud. It doesn't even wait for its treat after you pull out the letter, the moment its letterholder is empty it's off. If you didn't know better, you might have thought it seemed... a lot more tired than usual.
The parchment unravels fairly easily, Nephele's blocky text greeting you first, alongside a small scribbly doodle of an odd-looking fungus and a dragon lying on its back beside it with x's over its eyes, and small z's clustered around their head.
then, in a hasty script,
...the letter ends here.
First | Next
Your recently repaired sentry squawker lets out a raucous trill just in time to alert you to the heavy flap, flap of leaden wings quickly incoming. The Death Seeker lands on your desk with an unceremonious thud. It doesn't even wait for its treat after you pull out the letter, the moment its letterholder is empty it's off. If you didn't know better, you might have thought it seemed... a lot more tired than usual.
The parchment unravels fairly easily, Nephele's blocky text greeting you first, alongside a small scribbly doodle of an odd-looking fungus and a dragon lying on its back beside it with x's over its eyes, and small z's clustered around their head.
Nephele wrote:
MARU, WE ENDED UP ALMOST GETTING KNOCKED OUT BY PHEROMONE MUSHROOMS. MARI REALISED IT BEFORE IT GOT BAD. WE ARE OKAY NOW. IN STRANGE CAVE THAT DYS SAYS MIGHT HAVE BEEN MADE BY AN ODD TUNNEL-DIGGER. LOOKS LIKE ICE COATS THE SIDES OF THE TUNNELS. VERY NEAT. VERY STRAIGHT. THE OTHERS ARE RESTING. YOU SHOULD REST SOON TOO. SEND MY LOVE TO NERU AND MORT AND BORG. MY LOVE TO YOU ALSO.
-YOUR AUNT NEPH |
then, in a hasty script,
Dysme wrote:
Hey, it's your dad. Have you noticed that we're taking turns at explaining what's been up with us all this time? Despite still learning how to write in Draconic well, it looks like Nephele's done a pretty fair job at explaining it. Your return letter brings me some comfort, but I insist, remind Capade to keep an extra watch on the eastern front. I will mention, it is fortunate that Isra's death seeker bird can still find us here, but... it's not quite a comforting thought. death seekers. ominous birds, they are. I wonder how Isra acquired it? Don't go into her section of the lair to ask, though. If you can find her anywhere else, I would be glad for a reply.
If you worry for us, don't. It looks like whoever carved out this tunnel is long ahead of us, and won't turn back anytime soon. Your mother is already asleep, and it looks like Nephele's down for the count as well. It's cold in these tunnels, so we're sleeping all packed up together, here. Trust them to think that I'll obviously be the warmest just because I've got fur, so it looks like I'm delegated to the dragon in the middle. Anyways, I will close here. It's a little dark here, and our fire will go out soon without any more tinder added to it. If you notice that nights start looking too dark, too, then I've heard that Onyx's pearl glows in the dark. Onyx is strong enough to fight off any enemies, should they come. Stay safe, daughter of mine. Stay healthy. Stay alert. |
...the letter ends here.
[b]Icecream Adventure Crew[/b]
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The Crew gets druged by the local plants but Arien, who continues to be Most Valuable Dragon on the team saves them all with magic. Saniel has still do to anything other than taking samples of everything he comes across.
[s]i suspect he writes the journal logs and doesn't want to mention himself too often :D[/s]
[br]
[quote name="Log Day 2 - Unusual Botany"]As we continued to walk, collecting samples of the plantlife around us, when we noticed that we had started... *yawn* to grow.... *yawn* quite sleepy... That's funny... oooooh look at those colors..... spinningggggggg.....[/quote]
Saniel, being the curious dragon that he is, had to take samples of the local plant life and accidentaly dusted up some Fungus Spores.
[br]
[quote name="Log Day 2 - Unusual Botany"]Spinning colors is never a good sign, so Arien paused for a moment and cast a protection spell on the group. Fortunately, this seemed to be effective. Having regained our wits, we wondered if maybe, just maybe, this was a bad idea.[/quote]
At least someone managed to notice that something was wrong when the whole group began walking around like being tipsy. Arien cast a little spell and everything was fine. Even though nothing bad happend, they decide to never speak of this again... Especially Mydaiel, our proud warrior, is slightly embarrased for having chased after imaginary color swirls.
[br]
[quote name="Log Day 2 - Unusual Botany"]
We eventually came to a large, open cavern with very little in the way of plants. The air was clear to breathe again, and this place contained a number of interesting samples for us to collect. After helping ourselves to some fascinating rocks and gemstones, we set up our camp for the night, ate our meal, logged our activities, and slept.[/quote]
Large open cavern with clear air sounds like a good place to rest for the night. At least no plants that could drug you... And Saniel continues to take samples... this cave will be empty by the time he leaves.
[br]
[quote name="Loot Day 2"][item=subterranean clover][item=nickel ore][item=ancient fungus spores][/quote]
Saniel just takes Samples of everything. His bags must be so heavy by now. It's a miracle the others even allow him to take any more samples after the plant incident.
[br]
[br]
-----
My dragons are almost too good prepared for this! So far they have managed to avoid every nasty bit this cave as thrown at them. I wonder if they can keep this up! And wil Saniel eventually dig up something valuable? We shall see! :D
Icecream Adventure Crew
The Crew gets druged by the local plants but Arien, who continues to be Most Valuable Dragon on the team saves them all with magic. Saniel has still do to anything other than taking samples of everything he comes across.
i suspect he writes the journal logs and doesn't want to mention himself too often :D
Saniel, being the curious dragon that he is, had to take samples of the local plant life and accidentaly dusted up some Fungus Spores.
At least someone managed to notice that something was wrong when the whole group began walking around like being tipsy. Arien cast a little spell and everything was fine. Even though nothing bad happend, they decide to never speak of this again... Especially Mydaiel, our proud warrior, is slightly embarrased for having chased after imaginary color swirls.
Large open cavern with clear air sounds like a good place to rest for the night. At least no plants that could drug you... And Saniel continues to take samples... this cave will be empty by the time he leaves.
Saniel just takes Samples of everything. His bags must be so heavy by now. It's a miracle the others even allow him to take any more samples after the plant incident.
My dragons are almost too good prepared for this! So far they have managed to avoid every nasty bit this cave as thrown at them. I wonder if they can keep this up! And wil Saniel eventually dig up something valuable? We shall see! :D
|
|
|
Log Day 2 - Unusual Botany wrote:
As we continued to walk, collecting samples of the plantlife around us, when we noticed that we had started... *yawn* to grow.... *yawn* quite sleepy... That's funny... oooooh look at those colors..... spinningggggggg.....
Log Day 2 - Unusual Botany wrote:
Spinning colors is never a good sign, so Arien paused for a moment and cast a protection spell on the group. Fortunately, this seemed to be effective. Having regained our wits, we wondered if maybe, just maybe, this was a bad idea.
Log Day 2 - Unusual Botany wrote:
We eventually came to a large, open cavern with very little in the way of plants. The air was clear to breathe again, and this place contained a number of interesting samples for us to collect. After helping ourselves to some fascinating rocks and gemstones, we set up our camp for the night, ate our meal, logged our activities, and slept.
Loot Day 2 wrote:
My dragons are almost too good prepared for this! So far they have managed to avoid every nasty bit this cave as thrown at them. I wonder if they can keep this up! And wil Saniel eventually dig up something valuable? We shall see! :D
So, after quite a good start, I guess we're less lucky this time.
Dang it. Should've sent a botanist with Team Deepsea after all.
Thank you Elijah, I'm really impressed with you in this event so far. Also Soul my sweet baby please be okay.
Quote:
As we continued to walk, collecting samples of the plantlife around us, when we noticed that we had started... *yawn* to grow.... *yawn* quite sleepy... That's funny... oooooh look at those colors..... spinningggggggg.....
Quote:
The world around us began to spin and fade to black. None of us remember much of what happened after that, but we woke up an indeterminate number of hours later in an unknown place with a raging headache. There weren't any plants around in this place, but we had absolutely no idea where we had just come from. Additionally, Soul seemed to be fairing much worse than the rest of us.
Elijah tended to the headache, and was fortunately able to do well enough to leave Soul patched up and ready to continue on.
Elijah tended to the headache, and was fortunately able to do well enough to leave Soul patched up and ready to continue on.
So, after quite a good start, I guess we're less lucky this time.
Dang it. Should've sent a botanist with Team Deepsea after all.
Thank you Elijah, I'm really impressed with you in this event so far. Also Soul my sweet baby please be okay.
Quote:
As we continued to walk, collecting samples of the plantlife around us, when we noticed that we had started... *yawn* to grow.... *yawn* quite sleepy... That's funny... oooooh look at those colors..... spinningggggggg.....
Quote:
The world around us began to spin and fade to black. None of us remember much of what happened after that, but we woke up an indeterminate number of hours later in an unknown place with a raging headache. There weren't any plants around in this place, but we had absolutely no idea where we had just come from. Additionally, Soul seemed to be fairing much worse than the rest of us.
Elijah tended to the headache, and was fortunately able to do well enough to leave Soul patched up and ready to continue on.
Elijah tended to the headache, and was fortunately able to do well enough to leave Soul patched up and ready to continue on.
[quote=Solstice's Journal]We awoke to darkness and an eerie sense of silence. The only sounds were the distant drip of water and the occasional flutter of bat wings. Uncertain of whether it was day or night, but feeling rested enough, we figured this was as good a time as any to pack up and continue our journey.
We spent what seemed like hours wandering through the branching passageways, each coated in a number of different species of plant and fungus. It was almost uncanny how much life was growing down in these incredibly dark and phenomenally cold places.
In fact, it was too uncanny. Emmet, growing suspicious of the unusual lifeforms in the area, began to examine them in close detail. There was no good reason for them to be growing here so abundantly, with little source of nourishment, and something about them didn't seem quite right. After minutes of poking and prodding of leaves and mushrooms, Emmet turned to the group with an unexpected discovery: 'These plants... they seem to be feeding off of this strange and unidentifiable powder. Look, it's all over the walls, and even in the air. And do you see how twisted and misshapen they've grown? This can't possibly be good for our lungs.'
Despite our curiosity, we decided that it would be in our best interest to trust our gut and try to find an alternate passage - one that wasn't coated in unusual plantlife.
As we went to turn around, we realized that we had become slightly disoriented in our walk and weren't sure which direction we came from.
Fortunately, Solstice had been meticulously creating an incredibly detailed map of the caverns. With his cartography skills, we were easily able to retrace our steps back to an alternate, less-plant-filled series of caverns.
Having found a good number of fascinating samples along this new path, we were quite satisfied with our progress. After a few hours of following the small and winding tunnels, we eventually came to a massive, peculiarly straight tunnel with rough, ice-coated sides. It measured perhaps 100 meters in width and an equal number in height.
As we walked down this new and peculiar cavern, Umbra, came to a sudden realization and stopped, pointing in the direction we had just come from: 'This tunnel reminds me of the tunnels left by wood-boring insects... but it's much, much larger than anything I've ever seen. It looks to have been recently dug out, and whatever created it is headed in that direction.'
Knowing that a great and terrible secret was waiting for us in the direction of this mysterious tunnel-digger, we turned around and began to follow it. Hoping that, whatever challenges it may bring, we would be able to face them.
We followed the tunnel as far as we could, but we had begun to grow tired. We were well behind the tunneling creature, and there seemed to be very little chance of us catching up, so we decided to make our camp and rest. Curling up together to preserve our warmth in the bitter cold of the icy cavern, we logged our activities, ate our meal, and slept.[/quote]
Emmet: Solstice, you were writing in third person?
Solstice: ...Yes, why?
Umbra: IT'S...
Solstice: What is it, Umbra?
Umbra: IT'S...
Emmet: Get on with it, Umbra! What is it?
Solstice: ...
Emmet: ...
Umbra: IT'S AN
[img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ln22jjDqde1qbnirvo1_500.gif[/img]
Solstice's Journal wrote:
We awoke to darkness and an eerie sense of silence. The only sounds were the distant drip of water and the occasional flutter of bat wings. Uncertain of whether it was day or night, but feeling rested enough, we figured this was as good a time as any to pack up and continue our journey.
We spent what seemed like hours wandering through the branching passageways, each coated in a number of different species of plant and fungus. It was almost uncanny how much life was growing down in these incredibly dark and phenomenally cold places.
In fact, it was too uncanny. Emmet, growing suspicious of the unusual lifeforms in the area, began to examine them in close detail. There was no good reason for them to be growing here so abundantly, with little source of nourishment, and something about them didn't seem quite right. After minutes of poking and prodding of leaves and mushrooms, Emmet turned to the group with an unexpected discovery: 'These plants... they seem to be feeding off of this strange and unidentifiable powder. Look, it's all over the walls, and even in the air. And do you see how twisted and misshapen they've grown? This can't possibly be good for our lungs.'
Despite our curiosity, we decided that it would be in our best interest to trust our gut and try to find an alternate passage - one that wasn't coated in unusual plantlife.
As we went to turn around, we realized that we had become slightly disoriented in our walk and weren't sure which direction we came from.
Fortunately, Solstice had been meticulously creating an incredibly detailed map of the caverns. With his cartography skills, we were easily able to retrace our steps back to an alternate, less-plant-filled series of caverns.
Having found a good number of fascinating samples along this new path, we were quite satisfied with our progress. After a few hours of following the small and winding tunnels, we eventually came to a massive, peculiarly straight tunnel with rough, ice-coated sides. It measured perhaps 100 meters in width and an equal number in height.
As we walked down this new and peculiar cavern, Umbra, came to a sudden realization and stopped, pointing in the direction we had just come from: 'This tunnel reminds me of the tunnels left by wood-boring insects... but it's much, much larger than anything I've ever seen. It looks to have been recently dug out, and whatever created it is headed in that direction.'
Knowing that a great and terrible secret was waiting for us in the direction of this mysterious tunnel-digger, we turned around and began to follow it. Hoping that, whatever challenges it may bring, we would be able to face them.
We followed the tunnel as far as we could, but we had begun to grow tired. We were well behind the tunneling creature, and there seemed to be very little chance of us catching up, so we decided to make our camp and rest. Curling up together to preserve our warmth in the bitter cold of the icy cavern, we logged our activities, ate our meal, and slept.
We spent what seemed like hours wandering through the branching passageways, each coated in a number of different species of plant and fungus. It was almost uncanny how much life was growing down in these incredibly dark and phenomenally cold places.
In fact, it was too uncanny. Emmet, growing suspicious of the unusual lifeforms in the area, began to examine them in close detail. There was no good reason for them to be growing here so abundantly, with little source of nourishment, and something about them didn't seem quite right. After minutes of poking and prodding of leaves and mushrooms, Emmet turned to the group with an unexpected discovery: 'These plants... they seem to be feeding off of this strange and unidentifiable powder. Look, it's all over the walls, and even in the air. And do you see how twisted and misshapen they've grown? This can't possibly be good for our lungs.'
Despite our curiosity, we decided that it would be in our best interest to trust our gut and try to find an alternate passage - one that wasn't coated in unusual plantlife.
As we went to turn around, we realized that we had become slightly disoriented in our walk and weren't sure which direction we came from.
Fortunately, Solstice had been meticulously creating an incredibly detailed map of the caverns. With his cartography skills, we were easily able to retrace our steps back to an alternate, less-plant-filled series of caverns.
Having found a good number of fascinating samples along this new path, we were quite satisfied with our progress. After a few hours of following the small and winding tunnels, we eventually came to a massive, peculiarly straight tunnel with rough, ice-coated sides. It measured perhaps 100 meters in width and an equal number in height.
As we walked down this new and peculiar cavern, Umbra, came to a sudden realization and stopped, pointing in the direction we had just come from: 'This tunnel reminds me of the tunnels left by wood-boring insects... but it's much, much larger than anything I've ever seen. It looks to have been recently dug out, and whatever created it is headed in that direction.'
Knowing that a great and terrible secret was waiting for us in the direction of this mysterious tunnel-digger, we turned around and began to follow it. Hoping that, whatever challenges it may bring, we would be able to face them.
We followed the tunnel as far as we could, but we had begun to grow tired. We were well behind the tunneling creature, and there seemed to be very little chance of us catching up, so we decided to make our camp and rest. Curling up together to preserve our warmth in the bitter cold of the icy cavern, we logged our activities, ate our meal, and slept.
Emmet: Solstice, you were writing in third person?
Solstice: ...Yes, why?
Umbra: IT'S...
Solstice: What is it, Umbra?
Umbra: IT'S...
Emmet: Get on with it, Umbra! What is it?
Solstice: ...
Emmet: ...
Umbra: IT'S AN
[quote]This is Blumiose, writing today's log. We encountered some truly astounding plant life today. It didn't take me long time to realize that the way they grew was... concerning, so to say. The branches looked distorted, crooked and just plain [i]wrong[/i]. The strange powder they sustained on proved to be even worse, as it made us sleepy and dizzy. We would have all lost our consciousness if it wasn't for Sachiel who came to her senses somehow and improvised some masks out of spare cloth she had with her. We managed to get through the rest of the passage safely and found lots of samples to bring back to our clan. The cave proved to be much more dangerous than originally presumed, and I hope we'll get out of here safely and unharmed. Looking at Asha, who's just goofing off at the moment (again), I do have my doubts though.[/quote]
Finally, Sachiel did something, too! I'm so proud of her! And I already can't wait to see what happens next!
Quote:
This is Blumiose, writing today's log. We encountered some truly astounding plant life today. It didn't take me long time to realize that the way they grew was... concerning, so to say. The branches looked distorted, crooked and just plain wrong. The strange powder they sustained on proved to be even worse, as it made us sleepy and dizzy. We would have all lost our consciousness if it wasn't for Sachiel who came to her senses somehow and improvised some masks out of spare cloth she had with her. We managed to get through the rest of the passage safely and found lots of samples to bring back to our clan. The cave proved to be much more dangerous than originally presumed, and I hope we'll get out of here safely and unharmed. Looking at Asha, who's just goofing off at the moment (again), I do have my doubts though.
Finally, Sachiel did something, too! I'm so proud of her! And I already can't wait to see what happens next!