Of Mice and Mandrakes - Part One

[rubyrubyruby]

Attained through pattern-walk, led by Rubes when beyond Amber's no-fun radius, the earth underfoot has been replaced by hard rock. Vegetation has shifted to scrub and hardy lichen. Gravity is stronger, the air is thinner. The uphill climb will become more challenging. At the top, it's a precarious vista to feast upon. It's calamitous. The scope might be difficult to take in all at once, but beyond is the world's tectonic plates shoved so dramatically that they tilt at 45 degree angles. They crisscross in half-shattered collections, between which occasionally fall boulders the size of villages and lakes of lava that could drown such. The earth groans and grumbles in torment.'.

Battered but not broken Chase arrives, his mighty wings setting him on a craggy perch, he strikes his most majestic pose, frills flexing wings rustle as he tucks them in gingerly.

Micah isn't greatly out of great, or really at all out of breath at all, by the time they reach the top. Then again, he's flying so that might be a good reason. He lands next to Chase, settling down hind feet first, wings flaring until his front feet settle to the ground. Not quite as magestic as Chase, he's long and lanky, built a lot like an oriental dragon. "Tell me again why you didn't fly with us?" The question is asked of Ruby. He looks out over the vista and nods. "Kinda like this when aloft," he notes.

Wynter walks along side Ruby durring their travels even though she could take to the air if she wished. This palce in all it's titanic distruction entrances her. The makes the walk a part of the experience, laughing at her out od breathness as they climb. And when they reach the top she's laughing still.
Micah's question cause her to look in his direction and then to Ruby. A wide grin and she answers. "Because Ruby power is supperior form of locomotion then all other forms save perhaps sailing."

Ruby huffs and puffs when the environment taxes her, increasing the leaden feeling in her legs. The fact that there are two drakes here has an effect. Despite the efforts to de-sensitize, there's still something about the sight or smell that has her break out in gooseflesh or act like she's got rickets. She opens her mouth, and Wynter fills in an answer tha's less wargarble and more eloquent. Ruby adds, "...I still don't know enough about you drakes. Thought you moight 'ave 'ollow bones or somethin, loike birbs. Dunno 'ow 'ard it'll be tah stay aloft when you 'it pockets 'o worseness. This cliff though...I can stand...Roight..." She greets them all with a nod, despite having traveled together already. "This place a real gash...Where are them others..."

Approaching the top the cliff from near the lip are a number of odd folk. Dressed in minimal attire because of the heat, these ebony-skinned folk all possess a backpack and respirator. Looking like a cross between a bagpipe and a face-hugger, it obscures only enough to cover mouth and nose, helping them breathe the atmosphere. Artistic license has been applied to these masks to make them look like mythological creatures: Roc, Wyvern, Phoenix. Their forms are generally lithe and sinewy, somewhat of a paradox given how the gravity is a real slog. In their hands are long spears with hallow chambers. Giant steel needles that are barbed. They look equally good at harpooning whales as they would charging calvary.
The tips of the projectiles are varied. As befitting an experiment, there are few different methods deployed. There are barbs and hooks to try to find purchase in scale. Blunt warheads with tacky residue that adheres worse than tar and worse than a greasy-spoons grease trap. The hollow spears are loaded upon ballista and hefted by hand.

"Ruby does not like to fly...she can shift shadows aloft...can't you" Chase offers a dagger toothed grin to Ruby. "Why are we here again?" He eyes the weapons, "You are not shooting me." he grumbles "I mean it..."

More than likely it's the sight, because the two dragons don't smell alike. Micah smells of cinnamon and fire and burning things. Micah tilts his head and looks at Ruby strangely. "Hollow bones. I don't think so." He stares at the woman thoughtfully. "Worseness? Please explain." As the others approach, he eyes them warily, and his wings unfold from his side, half mantling there. The movement doesn't seem to be one that's entirely conscious. He glances sidelong at Chase. "I can shift shadows aloft too," he points out. "I was wondering the same thing. Why are we here? And you're not shooting me either." He looks at Ruby and bares his teeth briefly, wings mantling a bit more.

Wynter chuckles, a hand covering her mouth as the two declare themselves not targeting practice. She looks to Ruby and says, "Of course you didn't bring them here to be target practice." Then she considers her words and hmms softly. "Right?"

Ruby adopts a wounded expression. "Me? Not me." Her hands flutter to her upper chest, daintily. She then makes the worst introductions possible, merely gesturing at the strangers. "Did you know tha there are places where you drakes are revered? I know, strange but true...These folks do. You're loike...gods."
In response, those that have joined you give very slow solemn nods and keep their heads bowed. Their equipment would probably make a worse mumble than Ruby's unhampered lips, but they're silent regardless.
"I ain't shootin at you, they are...with tha utmost respect. You play war-games back in Amber roight? This tha same. Non-fatal, Truth. Wha's tha worse tha 'appen? Only wound would be tah pride if one manages a one-in-million shot with a blunt shaft."
Ruby gestures to the ruined landscape. "These poor bastards 'ave a celebration once in a zillion gajillion years. Obstacle course. They ride these big bats. But...Well...apocalypse. Nothin flies 'ere no more. They've lost all 'ope. Then I gots this idea, we could 'elp them celebrate loife at tha edge 'o losin everythin, an 'elp me perfect projectiles for ancient drakes."

And no one should be able to survive here, and yet there are telltale lights of habitation attached like barnacles to distant locations. There are watchtowers and clusters of scaffolding that lean out over the numerous gulfs. Distant figures can be seen to those with keen eyes.

Micah rumbles, the sound as soft as one with lungs the size of a dragon's lungs can make. He turns his head a bit toward Chase and nods. "Agreed," he says. "'course, there's plenty of fire down there for me to manipulate.." He winks at the other drake. He turns his head to eye Ruby again. "Only if the projectiles are blunted," he states. "Because if one gets me with something that's actually sharp, I cannot guarantee I'm not going to burn the offending wielder to a crisp." His eyes on Ruby still, flames dance to life at his maw. Despite this, his eyes are sparkling and he's clearly and obviously intrigued by the notion. He considers. "So.. it'd be me and one of their riders, pitted against Chase with one of their riders?" His wings fold in against his sides again.

Chase lets a low rumble his wings flexing, "What are the rules" his voice pure dragon now, "how far are we flyin?" he adds, offering the other drake a nod as they seem to haver a plan between them.

Ruby balks at the sight of the flames licking around Micah's maw. She pulls her attention away and licks her dry lips. She nods hurriedly and looks like she's trying to think of happy thoughts. "Course. I mean, you could even say you're pitted against tha environment as well...an each othah. What's an obstacle course without a prize at tha end?"

The immediate drop off this cliff is what slaloming professionals would find somewhat familiar. It widens into a wide rough trench that curves down and towards a ramp-like protrusion. And before that, one of the worst obstacle courses ever. Sudden belches of molten rock from below and falling debris from above (the titling plates of earth) add some peril. Occasionally a shelf of rock will detach from a continental shelf, ranging from mere house size to the length of Amber's longest street. Pockets of gas and heat haze create mirages and false corridors. Where the two meet is an unhelpful explosion.

Ruby turns back to regard the drakes, grimacing, "If someone can do something dramatic, magical or signal-worthy...beacons will loight. Smash'm...slice'm...slash'm...kiss'm when you pass. They 'ug close tah tha terrain, so you can't fly up 'igh and swoop tah finish loine. I seen 'ow you loike tah target enemy leaders in armies...tha ain't possible 'ere. There's worse things up in tha atmosphere tha melt tha skin or scales from you loike buttah on a grill."

Wynter moves over and peers down to see what Ruby is talking about. A brow rises up as a section of rock detaches and falls into lava. She slowly turns her head to Ruby and points down into the chasm. "My love. Are you really sugjesting they travel through that? It's quite dangerous looking. And then on top of that they get to dodge other things as well as spears and what not?"

RPG: Micah declares that he has the Friend to Fire (FIR-FR) gift.
RPG: Micah declares that he has the Fire Mastery (FIR-MA) gift.
RPG: Chase declares that he has the Ice Warrior (ICE-WR) gift.
RPG: Chase declares that he has the Ice Warrior Master (ICE-WM) gift.
RPG: Chase declares that he has the Ice Mastery (ICE-MA) gift.

Micah's front talons flex, digging furrows into the rock as he fidgets from foot to foot. Excitement is starting to radiate off him. The flames disappear now. "I like that idea." He eyes the course and grins toothily. The lava shooting up isn't likely to be a problem for him, but the falling rocks? Those most certainly will be. He tilts his head and nods. "I can," he says. He concentrates and a fireworks display, colorful and very bright and sparkly, goes off overhead. "That good enough for ya?" He grins toothily again. "So.. we need to touch the beacons as we pass them as part of the course?"