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H37 - Hedge - Sky - Scudder's Melee

High above the dense and black-green walls of foliage below, the earth no more than a smudgy blur with the occasional upthrust stony peak, clouds scud about the sky in ever-changing war. The space between is never regular, never flat, trods never quite the same, but landmarks tend to have similar characteristics: a particular cloudbank is always densest in a certain spot, or there is always some form of thunderstorm a short distance away, or perhaps a particular updraft always shoots flighted figures high, high up above the level of the trod they -want- to travel.

Navigation is not as simple when a path can travel in all three dimensions.

The fluffy, puffy mists conceal terrible dangers, acidic drifting beasts which feed on those who fly through them, sharp winds which cut you to the bone, pummeling storms which whip in out of nowhere if you dare to go off-trod.

If you cannot FLY, you cannot navigate these rooms, and will fall down/go off the trod.

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