The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

[muchalucha]

[ Quetzalcoatl nods in easy agreement, at least. She doesknow, since ritualistic offerings of life were a key part of her pantheon that was then passed down to her people. She was the most famous for it, even.

Her attention turns to the effigy as Voryn continues to speak, since she does wonder. She had briefly thought about doing something similar to this when they were still in their Springstar but had decided against it for the uncertainty. If she had been her fully divine self, she would have bled herself dry at the roots of Springstar’s great Tree, since then, she would have certainty that her life-giving blood could nourish its roots. As a Servant, she wasn’t sure, and now, with blood as thick and slow as sap…

When her hands are released, she stands again, though her hand does reach out to touch Voryn’s shoulder fondly as she goes, though lightly. ]

Mm, I can do that, yes. If I could offer my istli, I would.

[ The term goes with explanation, partially because she doesn’t think it’s worth explaining when it’s not something she can offer, nor would she expect anyone else to. After all, that precious istli that was the gift of life itself was stored in the heart. They didn't have to tools to make such a fine offering.

She places her hands on her hips as she turns her attention to John finally, since even if she’s still concerned about Voryn, she trusts him in this. They might not have talked about specifics, but she’s already decided that Voryn’s people aren’t as dissimilar from her Azteca as most. If he says he knows how to do a ritual like this, she trusts him. It’s as simple as that. ]

And hola, señor John, was it? I think I recognize your voice! We spoke when I asked about Silco, yes?

[hyperpotamous]

[ john also knows quite a bit about the potency of blood, so he also agrees with that statement. he's a little shakier on how their blood-turned-sap will perform in this instance, but he's still willing to try. ]

"Should any linger"...

[ he glances upward thoughtfully toward the tree above them, cursing silently for not finding a way to extract more useful information from it when he had the chance. would its passing mean there might be potentially more or less lingering spirits? ]

I suppose we'll know soon enough.

[ because clearly, he's in. he looks to quetzalcoatl when she says his name and the one nice thing about his eyes he has going for him is how no one can tell if his smile is genuine. ]

That's right. [ he at least makes an effort because it's not as if it's anyone's fault he can't keep his feelings buried deep where they belong. it does help to see her face more clearly, though — and her unmistakably green eyes. ] Maybe we can meet under better circumstances next time.

[ like when the world isn't possibly ending and they're about to ritualistically bleed to maybe talk to some ghosts. ]

[sharmat]

(while voryn marks their paths in the dirt, he comes upon a better stone. flatter and sharper—perfect for a cleaner cut. it's held in the sash around his waist until the time comes for them all to contribute to the ritual circle.

if only they had candles and offerings. gems, fire salts, a heart.

he does not speak during this time, concentrating. their introduction has long concluded when he finishes what he is doing; ten minutes has passed before he finally sits back on his knees.)

Quetzalcoatl, if you're contributing, then take a part of the circle—but do not disrupt its lines! I'm sure you are already aware of what you must do, (voryn instructs, producing the stone. flinching as it's drawn quickly against the heel of his hand, he begins to produce blood from the wound.

and it is as red as anyone else's.

after another short period, the stone is then offered out to whoever will take it, still red on one side.)

And John, if you intend to join us, then I shall have yours fill the second third of the circle. Be mindful of the glyphs; our precision matters. Everything matters.

cw for uhhh bloodletting from the tongue

[muchalucha]

Yes, I hope so. When things are done, we should all meet up and do something fun, sí?

[ She includes Voryn in that statement too! Though he’s almost certainly too busy to note it… Quetzalcoatl does watch Voryn work curiously, since even as much as sacrifice and bloodletting was part of her culture, to make sigils with it is more the work of mages. Maybe it would be worth asking him about his magic more for her own reasons, but that too can wait until later.

Patiently, she waits until he’s done, and she nods as she takes the rock. For the Trades of the Factions’ energy, she’s just been using her sharp teeth to cut a little puncture wound into a finger, but for something like this, it doesn’t seem right to her. There’s power in blood, that’s something they all understand, but to the Azteca, there’s also power in where it comes from. To bring life to humanity, she had cut four places to give them her blood. It seems right to at least pick one of those places.

Quetzalcoatl kneels before the spot that’s indicated, and after saying something softly in Nahuatl, extends her tongue and drives the sharp point through it to pierce it. There’s not a noise from her as she does so, since there’s a ritualistic element to this for her that asks for silence as a show of strength. She does withdraw the rock with a little sigh, then cups a hand to catch the thick blood that spills out. Once there’s enough, she pours it from her hand into the circle.

Wordlessly, but with a smile all the same, she offers the rock to John next. ]

[hyperpotamous]

[ john moves to the remaining position, carefully avoiding what voryn has already laid down. ]

I suppose post-ritual drinks couldn't hurt.

[ wishful thinking, as even a potentially uncomfortable night out is preferable to being trapped down here. plus, he has drunk toasts to worse things. for now, he gets serious and observes. true magic is a mystery to him beyond what little he's read about locally or had encountered working with akua, perhaps, so there is plenty to wonder about.

when it's his turn to take the rock, he hesitates momentarily at the sight of quetzalcoatl bleeding out of her tongue and into her hand. it's not like he's remotely squeamish about something like this; it's just that a power move like that is a little intimidating. he would know — having fully embraced all the most grotesque aspects of necromancy — shock value can go a long way toward catching your enemies off guard.

however, he doubts shock value is her intention, and after gawking for a few seconds he takes the bloody rock. these little things keep him making mental comparisons even though he'd prefer not to. for his part, john favours a place similar to voryn, frowning as he makes the cut. he's never had to do this in such a crude fashion before, but he has no problem carving deep enough to get the blood flowing anyway to work on completing his third of the circle. ]

[sharmat]

(unexpected is the piercing of quetzalcoatl's tongue by her own hand. he mirrors john's surprise almost exactly, not uncertain or put off but impressed by her dedication and her lack of reaction. by choosing to risk the muscle's swelling to perform her duty, she has made a sacrifice that voryn readily honours with a bow of his head.

uttered nahuatl provides an ancient backdrop for their bloodletting. voryn watches john cut himself as the third and last addition, approving of their obedience with a small smile.)

I would like that very much.

(friends in low places.)

... It is now that I would introduce music. I am without Sixth House ceremonial bells, and so I shall vocalize the summoning spell. My power is gone, so it should not affect you, (says voryn, suggesting that it might in any other circumstance. there has always been power in music as perhaps one of the most ancient forms of magic. and house dagoth's song has been described as poisonous to ill-prepared listeners.) Come, this is neither stringent nor specific... we must appeal to the dead. I urge you to converse with them in the way you think is appropriate.

Join me, if you like. I encourage it.

(adrenaline acts as a numbing agent for the pain in his palm. voryn's fingers still shake, however, as he begins to hum for the effigy. immediately, what is able to be noticed is that the song is dissonant, almost off-key until it rises from the depths of his chest into a higher tone. the tension breaks for a quivering note, held, and his eyes close.)

[muchalucha]

[ If there’s one thing to be grateful for with this strange, thick blood, she won’t complain for its slower flow now. Piercing the body with precision is something that she knows, so the wound on her tongue won’t be much more than a stinging presence on her tongue once the bleeding does stop, but blood is still thick in her mouth and on her teeth. She spits a mouthful to the side, but her expression does light up with interest as Voryn mentions music. It’s another little similarity between their people, but she’ll speak with him about that another time.

A poem does come to mind, though she does almost laugh as she considers it. It’s… a bit odd for her to be the one saying it, since the flower songs were something she considered very mortal (and beautiful in that), but Nezahualcoyotl’s words work well for what Voryn suggests.

Quetzalcoatl gives Voryn a look of appreciation that goes unseen as he hums out his song, but then closes her eyes to half speak, half sing an ancient poem in Nahuatl to join Voryn, though their meters are certainly different. Still, if they have a sharp ear, they might catch a familiar name a few times in the poem as she mentions, well. Herself. It’s a poem she remembers because it praises her in part, though other gods are also included. ]

[hyperpotamous]

[ john startles a little at the mention of the Sixth House and has to remind himself that it's really not that surprising that other places might also have at least six notable Houses-with-a-capital-H. it's not like he dug deep for creativity on that one. he'd built his society up from the Resurrection and in remembrance of what was lost, which is to say that in terms of useful material for appealing to the dead, he has plenty to work with.

he kneels and clasps his hands behind him, digging his thumb into the gash at his wrist, partly to staunch the bleeding and partly to keep his head clear. he has a tendency to drift as it is, and the way Communion feels right now has not helped in that area. he looks like he's ready for a firing squad more than a ritual.

john doesn't sing — he doesn't even try because he knows better — but recites each line clearly. quetzalcoatl won't be the only one to invoke herself here, at least. ]