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

[wolof]

[ She supposed she shouldn't be surprised, that he needed nothing from her. He had not seemed the type to hold such conflict within him, and Akua herself knew that his devotion to Zenith was strong. He seemed to assume people would choose it, as if it were the most logical. Ah, if only they had met years ago, when she'd fashioned herself a Dread Empress, and thought to overtake all of Praes through sheer will and destruction alone. They would have made for interesting companions -- his brawn and her brains -- she thought he would be a compliment to her magic.

But she knows that his offer is not altruism, because of that. She whetted her lips as he sat down in front of her, unwilling to go.

That alone, meant that this was outreach, perhaps? ]

Do you? [ She asked, her tone not ragged, but it lacked that teasing lilt that she normally used. As if she was bone tired from far too long trying to hold back, from hearing her worst fears reflected back at her. The voice of the person she'd thought would want her to choose Meridian the most questioning it. Her will was strong, it should have been nothing.

Her guilt, though, was used to plague upon her, even now. ]

How do you think you can help me? By still taking the Zenith from me? I'm sure you would not lack a suitable well for it.

[baltimores]

[ In a sense, she's prey. In another, she's someone he can genuinely help — and despite the circumstances of their time trapped in a dead tree, and likely means of their escape meaning it's better for him, for all of them, if she harmonizes with Zenith...

... That isn't what Yima would want. People join her of their own free will. It's better that way; for Amos, for Akua, for all of them. It fosters a stronger, far more genuine connection; it makes Akua all the more likely to understand, accept, embrace. That's the long-term goal.

Not that he's above a little manipulation in order to achieve it first, because her exhaustion is noted. Felt, considering how intense communion is in this space. And he knows he can provide relief for it, the same way he himself finally began to feel better, with Meridian out of his system. ]

Nah, I'm good there. [ Amos' tone is a casual one, unbothered by the situation as it stands, but there is kindness underneath the words. A genuine desire to help. ] You kinda seem like you're struggling, though. I can make that easier for you. You need more Zenith in your system? I can give it to you.

[ A beat, an accompanying head tilt. ]

Kinda getting the sense you'll feel a lot better if I do.

[ And really, if she accepts his fairly straightforward and logical proposal, then it isn't so much corruption as genuinely helping her, now is it?

And if she doesn't... Well, the short-term goal will have to take priority over the long-term one; the only actual choice she's being offered whether she wants to do this the easy or the hard way. ]

[wolof]

[ Her jaw tightened.

She had known that Amos was Zenith through and through, but to hear him say that so simply as if the Zenith in her system was something she needed, as if it were fact. That it would be so easy to simply give in, and her heart ached for how she knew that yet again she warred against her very nature because of a promise. Something that didn't matter to the dead.

How long are you going to pretend to be something you aren't, Akua? a voice whispers, something only she can hear. There is guilt, that radiates through the communion, something that she feels normally deep into her core, but she often pretended she did not feel, and yet... yet here, in this space, she feels it. Did she have the right to end all of those lives over again? To write them off?

If Calernia had been obliterated from Creation, or if the Elamael had truly been unleashed across all of creation, why is it that she is left to regret? Why is she the one who is left fighting, playing the villain when it would be so simple? It is not like she'd see Catherine's face again, feel her lips on hers again... Or feel her knife in her belly again... ]

It may.

[ She says, that age-old, weary despair in her voice, as she held out her hand to him.

She heard Catherine's chuckle, a sharp, derisive laugh in the back of her mind. I knew you were still the same, and Akua feels in that moment that she is still the same, to accept the offer. ]

[baltimores]

[ It is fact.

Amos doesn't need to hear what she hears, feel what she feels in order to know it — though the latter, that sensation of guilt and exhaustion permeating the air between them, helps fuel him. Explicitly tell him that he's right, even before she says anything out loud. Akua needs Zenith because it's where she belongs (where everyone should belong, as far as he's concerned — especially now, after having experienced Meridian's energy for himself). Maybe more than most, considering what he knows about her; how he'd unwittingly gotten her to turn once before.

Promises to the dead don't matter, after all. They're dead. She already knows that, but once she gets more Zenith in her? Harmonizes, good and proper? Then she should know that. Understand that.

So her verbal answer for him isn't entirely unexpected. Amos blinks, once, before his lips quirk slightly, an almost-smile. There's a brightness in his eyes, a genuine happiness as he hears, as he feels the surrender in her. As he blinks down at her hand before reaching out to take it with his own. ]

Don't worry. I've got you.

[ And he means it. And unlike those he's felt the need to attack, the Zenith energy flows out to her in a soft, lapping waves — no tsunamis, just water brushing up against, gently intruding on the shore.

He can be gentle. He wants to be gentle. He will be gentle, and ease her back in to where she belongs. ]

[wolof]

[ Zenith feels like being swallowed in Night itself. Not just night, but Night -- a great and grand power, so seeped in seeking it that it lost its way, coupled with the cold of winter, and tempered by Catherine's own motivation to see it through, to make something Better for everyone. Not just villains, not just heroes, but for every orphan who called themselves Foundling, she had been motivated to upend the very structure of Calernia itself, and change it. Zenith was change, taking the old, pulling it apart, and shaping it into something more than what it had been.

Wasn't that what Catherine had wanted in the end?

Wasn't that what she wanted? To guide them? Nudge them toward the perfect line of Villainy, in between outright destruction, and a more subtle, less destructive path? Wasn't that what she had given her damned life for? She had not made it to see the end that the Wandering Bard had leveled across Calernia.

Even if she were to bring it back, what would be left, after the Ealamal rained destruction over Keter? They had killed Neshamah, but what good did that do, if his hordes of the dead still charged? Would she even have seen it? She was dying -- Scarred and disfigured by the Dead King's magics, and stabbed by Catherine's own blade. She'd felt it, accepted it, wanted it, the promise of becoming something more -- but what if her gambit had not worked?

What if she had willingly accepted a death, and the weight she had leveled at the Bard, had not been good enough? What if the powers of Above and Below had turned away, once they realized her heart had held a place in motivating her decision?

The flood of Zenith is...overwhelming. Comforting. It's Night and Darkness, it is everything that Akua had wrapped herself in for so long, that it feels a little bit like coming home.

A part of her would always want to accept it.

It feels like that part is winning. ]

[baltimores]

[ He catches impressions from her — a far-off world he has never, will never know; the idea of someone important; doubt. Uncertainty and what-ifs he cannot track, only understand on a surface level. That whatever it was that drew her to Meridian may not even be worth it; that Zenith can bring Akua both peace and purpose all at once.

So he continues to guide her in, almost absently tracing lines on her palm as he does so. Let him be her lighthouse in the midst of what she does not know. Let Zenith be the rising tide that lifts her boat. Let the two of them welcome her, together, to where she needs to be.

Amos catches that semblance of acceptance — that beginning of the end — and calls out to it, looks to nurture it. Let it grow into something good for her. Good for him. Good for the universe as they both now know it, speaking to her in soft and guiding whispers. Over here and This is where you belong and You'll feel better when you're home. The roots they're surrounded by and the dirt they're mired in are not home, the way their bodies have shifted to match it is not home — but with Zenith in his heart, it almost doesn't matter. Not nearly as much as it would.

He reaches for her with his other hand, callused but still fleshy fingertips brushing up against her as his eyes don't leave hers, inviting her in. Welcoming her.

You'll be home soon. ]

[wolof]

[ It is so close she can almost taste it. That familiarity, being home -- but it's --

It's cold. Accepting, yes, but cold. It's lonely, in this cold, in the dark. Like being in the Empire Ever Dark, or trapped within Catherine's own Mantle of Woe, like those years she had spent a prisoner, a shade, a specter only good enough to be kept a prisoner for her killer's use. She would be pulled out if needed, from the shadows, the dark, the loneliness.

She breathes in, she breathes out.

A memory of what she thinks of home is. Of a pain so biting, that it ached within her. She'd once told Catherine, that she'd fed her a poison so sweet she craved the taste of it, and that was what she thought of now. Home. A warm fire, friends, jokes, something she'd never had. Not the cold sterility of her mother's Halls, the control she'd held -- the fact that her father had taught her magic just so he could whisper that she was a dear one -- and the friend she'd been forced to murder, when she'd been just a child.

She remembers Catherine's sad eyes, when she'd asked her: "How long have you been pretending to be one of us, Akua?" She remembered the sad look in her eyes, when she'd asked. Akua had not answered, and now...

Now she wonders, if she let herself fall into this dark, would it be the same? Would she still have been pretending, all this time?

Could she accept, that she may have been deceiving not only herself, but everyone else? Was sacrificing her life for nothing? Had giving up Everything, from the potential to become Dread Empress, her people, the Age of Wonders, and herself nothing?

Had she given up everything just to watch it be destroyed in the end? Could she accept that? ]

No.

[ She said, through a throat that felt raw, and strained. She reached out, and grasped the wrist of the man before her, the one that had been stroking her hand, and she gripped it, hard. ] Take it from me, Amos Burton, before I force this torrent the other way.

[ She can feel it, that burgeoning burst of something, and she starts to push against it, rail against it. She cannot. Will not allow it to undo the sacrifices she's made, for herself -- and for others. She'd taken hundreds of thousands of souls, she will do no more. ]

[baltimores]

[ It's a smooth process, as gentle a corruption — if it can even be called that — as he can offer. Bringing someone back into the fold, into what he knows is right.

There are red flags he doesn't catch — what is loneliness, anyway; Amos could get by just fine with nobody else around him for years, decades, and be thoroughly unaffected — and some he gets glimpses of. A cold that's actively unpleasant, rather than just existing. A hint of childhood trauma he catches a fleeting notion of, but not the whole story. They're easy enough to continue overlooking, attribute to as blips and nothing more, in the midst of properly converting her...

The No is an active disruption, and Amos looks up sharply to meet Akua's eyes as she grabs at his wrist. Digs into it with everything she has. It doesn't hurt; it just means he needs to pay attention, so, he is.

At least until she orders him to take Zenith away from her, and eyes slightly widened from surprise instantly narrow. ]

Fuck are you doing? [ The question is muttered, half asking her, half asking himself. ] You know where you're supposed to be. Just gotta get you over the hump.

[ He glances down at her hand gripping his wrist, bringing his other hand down to grip at hers — and with that the flow of Zenith from him to her becomes less gentle, more encroaching. A suddenly aggressive invasion in hopes of overwhelming the opposition. Of making shit go by quick so it's done and over with sooner rather than later, so things don't end up fucked. ]

[wolof]

[ Akua was not an immutable person, was the thing. She was no stalwart pinnacle of true evil, though at one point, she would have said that she was. If she was immutable, she would have chosen Zenith the moment she arrived. She was not a good person, she was no Hero of shining armor and virtue. She was a Villain of the highest order. She had committed the gravest of genocides, murdered an entire city just to use the people she had once been Governess of.

In her madness, she had wanted to resurrect the age of Wonders, to become the next Triumphant -- may she never return -- but she had been little more than a small annotation in the histories. More for her sorcerous achievements than herself. They would not know her name. They would not know Akua Sahelian.

But they would know the name of the Calamity. Her Name. ]

You do not determine where I belong. I am Calamity, the guide to which all villainy will find its path. What good is evil in your perfect world? I am a Villain, and I have decided my path.

[ It's ironic, the flutter of light in the dark. It is not the gentle light that some associate with Meridian. It is hot, and burning, like the surface of the sun, as it blossoms, and burns, the chill of Zenith's touch starting to burn like paper put to flame. ]

[baltimores]

[ Amos stares at her, baffled and with a slow burning hostility. He starts to bare his teeth at that first sign of oppressive heat, as she works to burn away the Zenith he had been offering, now forcing. He redoubles his efforts, never once breaking eye contact and doing his best to flood her veins with ice.

Because he knows he tends to see things in black and white terms, but... ]

So you're just going to be evil? That's it, that's the end of things? [ Amid the aggression in his voice, there's derision. A challenge. ] Ain't nobody saying there can't be a place for you too. 'cept you, apparently. That doesn't mean you can't figure things out along the way.

[ Because that's what he's been doing all his life. What he'll need to continue to do. If she tosses it aside so easily, what hope is there for him?

Nah. He's not letting her give up like that. If he's gotta force her over, then so be it. They can figure it out after. ]

[wolof]

[ Against his redoubled efforts, Akua can feel that attempt to pull her back under, into the dark -- the Night -- yet again. But she knows, knows that her promise, her guilt and her payment to the universe for her truly heinous deed... it cannot be paid back with Zenith. She cannot -- will not -- allow herself to commit this mistake again. She had already once done the unforgivable, and had suffered the consequences.

What would it be, to do so again? What would it be, to suffer this path again, to ignore the growth, and the discoveries she made along the way?

She laughed, in his face. ]

Just evil? Oh, do not doubt my conviction, I am evil, I was born evil, and my pursuit of power is a benediction toward the gods below, even now.

I died to become Calamity, to promise to never destroy as I have done so before, and to help usher an age of order by eliminating those villains who would try to commit atrocities as I have.

Do you think I do not know what it is to commit genocide? That is what Zenith asks of me. To do this again, something that I have promised to never do again, and to keep others from doing it. Simply because this is a new world, is my promise, is my eternal path toward redemption invalid? Should I give it up simply because it is not my world?

[ That ever-blazing sun in Akua's communion is like heat -- a hot desert, parched land, the sun over Praes beating down on a tower that burns in the distance. The creeping darkness of twilight in the horizon, but the sun does not waver, it does not set. In this moment, it is Blazing. ]

I will not yield.