kenoslogs | Toxic Love: The Exalt Oracle

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Toxic Love: The Exalt Oracle

NOTHING GOES OFF WITHOUT A HITCH

You feel it, the moment that the Exalt oracle opens its eyes, like something that rips through your body from head to toe, something that feel like fire, wild. It sears into your veins, like acid and fire, something that triggers something that makes you want to run, or perhaps turn and face something head on. Before you can find what sets you off – if you could find it. Bearers know what this sensation is, it is different but the same at its core. The emotions, the feelings it sparks are different – but in the end, you know it for what it is: An Oracle.

Kenos groans from the awakening, like a part of a whole sparks to life, and though you do not know what it is that they want yet, you understand and know their existence down to your core. That feeling to attack or defend, perhaps even flee, does not leave you, but instead it fills your veins, you feel it thrumming, pulsing, like the beat of a heart – if one has one. With the sense of awakening, bearers know the shape of what comes next, they will be asked to act, to do. You do not know how it will happen, or what the Exalt will ask of you, but the knowledge that it will happen is borne from experience, not from the Oracle itself.

As you begin to move, to… look, you are not long for this day, it clouds your mind, a hazy, drowsy feeling takes over, the encroaching dark that threatens to swarm, crowding from the sides, taking over your vision – until… it fully takes over, and Bearers are put into a deep slumber.

When bearers awaken, it’s difficult to make sense of what your sleepy eyes see. Structures begin to swim into view, and they like tall figures looking down upon you. It’s difficult to tell what they are at first, but as you wake up, you begin to see, they are not people, or creatures, but long spore-like stalks. Some have ribbed overgrowths that you can see, and some end in growths that ripple and hang over, but have no “cap”. They tower over the bearers, like towering spires and buildings, on all sides, as if they were trapped in a ring of them. As bearers look around them they will notice tall green spires around them as well, and it takes a moment for things to really settle in. Mushrooms. Blades of grass. The springy moss about them is almost as tall as they are, low to the ground. There are pebbles that appear as boulders, and the thunderous steps nearby indicate an insect or arachnid walking by, far larger than you. There is a stillness to this space, like a held breath, and as the bearers awake, and regard one another, and then to the center of the circle is – a small effigy in the center.

It is here, the Exalt Oracle, and you feel compelled to regard it, before you are given a pang down to your core. It compels you – pleads, asks, begs, and demands, all in one – for what it wishes for. Precious mementos and precious items that they are missing. They have been lost, and they are somewhere within the Liosachán. It beseeches the bearers to return its items, and begs they be returned here to the circle. There are no words, but there is a pleading sensation, a feeling that these items are treasured by this Oracle.

You feel at your sides, your pockets, and find one item on your person, a weapon, a companion, whatever it is you would bring with you to the conflict, shrunk down to a tiny size with you.

Stay steadfast, bearers, and capture the ~~flag~~ Oracle!

SURVIVAL OF THE SMALLEST ( DAYS 1 - 5 )

Unlike the still, stale apocalypse that had been the setting of the Iconoclast Oracle, the greenhouse is lush and vibrant with activity.

The Effigy present within yearns to be reunited with what belongs to it, fixated upon the five items lost within the greenhouse. The swell of its longing fills all Shardbearers, urging them to take action, claim the items and present all five to it to attain victory for that Faction.

Over a period of ten days, Shardbearers of both factions will have to navigate environmental dangers, and the normal procession of time, as the greenhouse is going about its daily routine. Workers plod around like towering goliaths, weeding and watering and pruning the greenhouse's contents. The Liosachán's native population of fae begin to take notice of the newcomers in their midst, emerging from grassy mounds hidden in the natural landscape to spy and pry about the newness surrounding them.

Naturally curious, and equally dangerous, the fae of the Liosachán are Highstorm natives. They range in cool coloration, from soft violet-greys to deep stormy blues, and wear clothes fashioned from of goods pilfered from the pockets of workers, dropped on the ground or handcrafted from the environment itself. Wielding bits of copper tightly wound into blades and spears, they are a ferocious and cunning little people who seek to trick, trap and toy with Shardbearers. Direct violence is anathema to them, but violence that happens as a result of falling to one of their ploys is a badge of honor.

DAY ONE - THREE. The Effigy initially urges Shardbearers to build bases of operation for defense and practicality, as surviving ten days without supporting one another is a surefire way to meet a grisly, tiny little end. Resources must be gathered: gather food and water, prepare shelter, establish unity and organization and prepare to set off into the wilds soon.

For Shardbearers demonstrating particular selflessness, favoring the protection and defense of another, the Effigy responds warmly from the third day onward — rewarding them with a sign of their dutiful nature towards others in the form of fairy wings, the form of which are unique to the Shardbearer themselves.

DAY FOUR. The sudden thunderous sound of a storm begins. No, not a storm, the tumble and crash of water pouring down upon the greenhouse — the workers of the Liosachán perform their routines faithfully, after all. In watering the garden, the danger of the environment threatens to overtake Shardbearers and their work alike. Drops of water fall, their size equal or larger than even the tallest of characters, and trickles of water muddy the ground in the form of raging rapids.

The security of Meridian and Zenith's camps is even called into question, because as simple as the act of watering a garden is, it is a nightmarish situation for such itty bitty Bearers to be in!

DAY FIVE. By day five, the fae of the Liosachán no longer lurk and linger in the corner of one's eye. They make themselves known, having prepared a banquet below one of the mushrooms, within sight of the Effigy. A table draped in spider-silk lace awaits any Bearer who comes near enough, the sagging piece of driftwood polished to a gleam with golden sap, leaving it waterproofed and pretty to behold. A handful of corks serve as seating, with most of the fae draping themselves across scraps of cotton as though they are simply at a picnic.

They invitingly wave to Shardbearers, chattering brightly in their foreign, lilting tongue, waving tiny sandwiches and little clay pots full of jams and honeys, brandishing sugared berries that they bite into with gusto, staining their arms and faces in swathes of blue and red. They clearly are welcoming to whomever comes upon them, urging them to avail themselves to the bounty they have prepared. Perhaps some characters know better than to eat the food of the fae, recalling legends and lore about the mystical properties and implicit bargains made in becoming a guest. Perhaps some have no idea, and are simply hungry enough to dig in!

UNWILLING TEN-ANTS ( DAYS SIX - EIGHT )

The scuttling, scrabbling feet of ants crawling over surfaces, winding their way through this grassy playground, has become normal. Their feet thunder as they go about their business, and it seems to be a normal cadence to life here in the underbrush, in the greenhouse. It is normal, and it is has become nothing to really concern oneself with. They are ants, after all, what do they do, but work? Endlessly, continuously.

That is, until the heavy, loud sounds of their feet draw closer to whatever place that the bearers have found to camp in. Whether solitary or as a group, these workers are no longer content to simply ignore the bearers, but they are a curiosity, perhaps even a bother. You have disrupted their lifestyle. The sleepy pattern of obtain food, return ot the hive, and back out again now has obstacles. Now there are not simply the fairies, who live their own lives and existences, a part of the ecosystem, but now there are these tiny bearers. Fighting, working together, arguing and disagreeing.

You are disruptive to their way of life.

The ants have come to collect on this due, and some bearers that are vulnerable, or perhaps merely caught, are taken away, your weight so light compared to the rest of their burdens that they carry. The strength of these ants is overwhelming, incredible at this size, and try as you might, if you are caught in their strong mandibles, you cannot escape. An ant, after all, carries 1000 times their weight with those powerful jaws. You, bearer, are nothing to them.

They squirrel away the bearers within their hill, a complicated network of tunnels, junctions, and large spaces. Down within, where the air becomes stifling, and stale. The ants guard their pray, and you get the distinct sense that they see you not as people, not even as enemies, but as prey. You will be food – perhaps to the eggs that are gathered within this room, where you can see the stirring of new life, just beneath the surface. You may not have very long to live, if these little larvae get their mouths on you.

Or perhaps, your friends will save you? Once it is discovered that bearers are missing, the trail of ant prints on the ground is apparent – they are not stealthy creatures – and the feet lead from the locations of several kidnapped bearers toward the grainy ant hill that lies not far away. The hill itself swarms with life, with worker ants all over the surface, scuttling about, looking for the next meal for te colony. Or perhaps for more bearers to bring back for their young.

It will be dangerous, bearers, to save your friends. Should you choose to do so, you will be kicking the anthill, and the ants will protect what is theirs. Even if they just took it. Those bearers belong to them, now! Rescuers will find not only your average worker ant, ready to defend, but winged male ants will attack from above, and deeper, within the nest, near where the bearers are kept, lies the strongest ant in the colony: The Queen. Staggeringly large, strong, and vicious, when her subjects begin dying. She will do everything in her power to protect her colony, and that includes killing bearers, if need be. Or trying, at least.

Good luck rescuing your friends, bearers!

IN SMALL PACKAGES ( DAYS NINE - TEN )

The day after the ant-pocalypse brings with it the brush of recognition — the Effigy has foreseen the likely victors, and calls to them to approach it once they have suitably recovered. It judges them the ones whom are most devoted to what binds them, loyal to memory and remembrance, and begins to clamor for them to restore to it what belongs rightfully. Thus begins a full day of resting, locating last-minute items, shoring up defenses and preparing for the sprint to the finish line.

Certainly your rivals will not allow you to simply walk to the Effigy unassailed and unchallenged.

Eat, rest, ensure your fellows are close and bolstered, for tomorrow begins the final rally.

On the morning of the tenth day, Meridian Shardbearers approach the Effigy with its five items in hand. In the midst of the mushroom ring, the Effigy stands as it had in the beginning — arms outstretched and back bowed skyward, gnarled fingers seeking contact with that which has been lost to it. It awaits, it strains, and even as it does, it requires one last test of ability. From the shadows of the towering mushrooms, the rasp of scale and soft hiss of a great beast descends upon the fae ring.

A gleaming garden snake, with glossy black and green stripes, blocks the way between approaching Shardbearers and the Effigy.

Between its bright eyes, pressed upon its brow is a scattering of brighter scales that appear to be in the shape of a delicate, three-leafed plant with spiraling patterns for leaves. It braces itself against the approach, and there is no doubt that to claim victory, the serpent must be subdued. Though Meridian approaches with victory in hand, they have not yet attained it — their rival faction and this beast remain in their way.

MISSING LINKS ( THROUGHOUT )

As the Effigy desires to be reunited with what belongs to it, the swell of its longing stirs something more within all present Shardbearers.

With that foreign longing arrives knowledge: beyond the five items prized by the Effigy itself, there are other lost things within the greenhouse. Like a compass, each Shardbearer's mind points them in direction after direction, urging them to seek and explore. Implicitly, the thrum of comprehension fills your mind: these are things that do not belong to you, per se, but seek to have your hands ferry them home.

Amidst tangled brush, hidden under doffed acorn cap, tucked away in the belly of a fae's glittering den, lost in the depths of a puddle of spilled water that seems an insurmountable lake now, folded secretly into the petals of a towering, skyscraper-like flower, there are three additional items hidden within the tumultuous landscape that each Shardbearer feels a draw towards. Things that belong to someone else, eager to be reunited with them, but subject to whim.

Upon locating and retrieving one, the Shardbearer is filled with a sense of information — they know who this item belongs to, and they will know that they have a choice. Bonds are fragile things after all, and they exist to be enforced or abused, in order to advance a goal or to deepen a connection. How will you treat someone's precious bond? How will they treat yours?

NOTES

Here are some prompts to set the scene and foundation of the Exalt Oracle! — The theme of this Oracle is a loose edition of capture the flag, where the Effigy's items can pass through multiple hands within the ten day allotment.

— For additional ideas and fun, it is known that several Shardbearers have concluded their efforts to fulfill the Greenwood Yards' sidequest request.

— All details of the Exalt Oracle can be found here, and questions for the mods can be submitted here.

CODING

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Yes, it is.

As she follows along with him, Midna doesn't say anything to begin with. He's not wholly wrong, of course. It takes all of her discipline not to smile. The irony at a ruler telling her, also a ruler, the responsibilities. He can't be blamed. He has no idea who or what she is.

It's. Just funny.]

I didn't say that they didn't, right? [Her restraint crumbles and she grins.] Like anything else, it's not a one way and one way only, Dimitri. Ruling is multifaceted, just like anything else someone does. My point was that if that's the part you don't care to have, that's the part I'll take.

[ Forgive him, Midna... he is very serious about this. It's like all he thinks about sometimes. ]

I suppose. Being spoiled has never been something I've relished.

[ He doesn't deserve it. ]

Colour me surprised. [That's sarcasm right there.] I seem to have a knack for attracting selfless do-gooders who bear the onerous weight of responsibility. But that's what I'm here for. As long as you and those like you are chomping at the bit to be good and fair, then I don't have to.

Do you think that you should try, though?

[ He gives her a curious glance. ]

Shouldn't we all?

[She catches that attention and for those breaths, she realises she feels... very aware of herself. Of her truth, as it were. The guilt that she has carried with her since she initially fled her people, never feeling like she can exactly make up for that. Her exterior is a tough one. It's had to be.

But something... Just sometimes, she can feel some of that begin to recede. Even in this place.

Pointedly, Midna glances away under the guise of lifting her hands to shift the way she hides beneath her cloak.]

Never said that I have not tried. Or that I wasn't trying.

Are you a ruler of some sort? The way you talk about it...

[ Dimitri trails off. ]

I shouldn't assume. Or judge.

[That's a weighted question.

Midna has, to the best of her ability, tried to present herself not necessarily as someone who lies, for she can't say she's outright lied to anyone. Little manipulations and deceits here and there are considerably not the same thing as lying. Misleading others is also not the same. She doesn't really want to lie to Dimitri or anyone else, but...]

I knew a princess back home. Closely. [Which is still true without really answering him. But the way she words it, Midna realises she can use Zelda's plight as a way of expressing her own.] And I watched how leadership took its toll on her. I watched her bear guilt for her people. Wanting to protect them. Failing to do so. The consequences for that failure. And I watched her carry it, as though it were heavier than all the stone in the land. She likely felt that she didn't try hard enough, but that is likely something meant for outside judgement.

[A ruler, most likely, will always be hardest on themselves.]

[ He knows the feeling that Midna describes; it's one that's burdened him in the past. It's one that dogs at his heels now. The guilt he feels for the people he's failed in his life... it sometimes threatens to be overwhelming, although lately he's been working on that. On being able to push through it, to understand that he can't save everyone - even if he wants to. ]

It is heavy. Heavier than anything else in the world.

[ His voice is soft. A part of him suspects that this princess is... at least partially a metaphor or a way for Midna to circle towards the point. ]

When your decisions mean life or death for people, it's hard not to feel guilty. When your people cannot eat or are without shelter... what else can you feel but sorrow? Especially if you can sit inside in warmth and fill your belly.

[She can't even argue any of that. As much as she might like to try. Her memories revisit the sight of Zant striking her people down. Just like that, they were gone. Those who stood at her defence, anyway. Those wise enough to even attempt running were simply warped and changed. She'd not been able to save all of them and it was unrealistic to assume she could have.

She hates how this talk makes her chest feel tight. She hates how much truth she finds in his words. She hates how much she resonates with what he says. It's a conversation that makes her feel very human.

Soft. Vulnerable. Weak? It makes her want to scoff and brush it all beneath some proverbial rug.]

Something you've undoubtedly had to endure, it seems. No wonder you're so determined to play the role of the hero. You must be aching to make return to your world, to continue doing what you do best.

[And just like that, she hides herself behind levity. Which appears to be loving his people. As a good ruler ought to. She won't say it, but there's a part of her that feels that Dimitri must be very well loved by those who would call themselves his. He sounds like a very good leader. The kind of leader that Zelda likely would have liked a great deal.]

[ He doesn't quite know if Midna wants to (or needs to) hear what he's saying. Especially when she goes back to levity, to saying he enjoys playing hero. She confuses him a little - but he feels as if there's something more to it. He regards her for a long moment as he considers her words. ]

I do wish to return, yes. I'm responsible for them. The fact that I'm here doesn't change that.

[ The burden is great and he must carry it. But he doesn't mind it; he's strong, after all. ]

Do you have people at home waiting for you, Midna? [ His question is, once more, quiet. ]

Do you wish to see them again?

You're full of heavy questions, aren't you.

[Her smile stays, though it seems more practised. A little touch tighter, as if he's growing ever closer to a part of her that she has been determined to keep others from. But she decides she can humour him. Just a little. What does he really gain by learning that about her?]

I suppose I can part with a little information about myself. Yes, there are people waiting for me. I don't believe that the Twilight has been destroyed. If I'm right, then it is very likely that my absence is causing some concern. I'd like to rectify that as quickly as possible.

If I have offended, I apologize.

[ BUt he listens all the same. And watches. ]

Then we agree on that. There's quite a lot to be handled, here and at home. Where ever home is.

[ He hums softly. ]

What is the Twilight?

[Offended. No. She wouldn't say that. On the contrary, it's supposed to be somewhat flattering when one takes interest in another, no? By that token, Midna must be flattering most nearly everyone here.

She's thoughtful for a beat or two, wondering how to explain the Twilight to someone who isn't from Hyrule. Maybe the simplest way to put it.]

It's a realm where there is no light. There is only a calming, peaceful darkness. All-encompassing. All-embracing. Although I suppose some would mistake it for the night, and that is a different thing.

[After a moment's pause, she lifts a hand, palm up, and with some focus, she conjures a few blocks of twilight, dark and likely strange. If she were to press it, she could break her entire self down into them. Instead of doing such a thing, however, she refrains, and remains steady.]

I see. That sounds... well. I'm not sure how I would respond to it, but it sounds pleasant.

[ He offers a smile and then pauses as she starts to conjure a few blocks. After a moment, he hesitantly lifts a hand. ]

May I?

[She wears a smile. It's a hard thing to explain to someone who's never seen it. To someone who would never be able to thrive in it. Light and shadow are divided for a reason, after all.]

By all means, though I would advise caution. Light Dwellers do not belong in the Twilight. If you're just touching a piece, I can't imagine anything will come of it. It doesn't seem to have the same effect in this world. Somehow, it looks only like a beautiful piece of decor, rather than anything useful.

[ He touches it cautiously, a little awed by it. ]

Such things are usually beyond me... seeing it up close is interesting.

[It's not as solid as it appears to be. Or perhaps it's because it's just a manifestation of the Twilight. Of herself, in many ways. To him, it's quite possibly chilling where she would otherwise find warmth and comfort. There's an emptiness, a hollowness to the Twilight. Some would describe it as eerie and empty.

Yet she looks just a touch prideful that she can share something she loves so dearly with someone else. A Light Dweller who doesn't hold the same animosity for her and her kind that she remembers learning of in Hyrule.]

Sorcery is a talent to my people. It governs the Twili. Who I am, what I am. It's defined by it. Would that I could demonstrate its full ability. There is nothing here quite like it. And in the way that Light beckons me toward it, there is a certain allure to the darkness.

At home, I don't have much talent for sorcery... here I have access to it. And seeing what others can do with it is wonder-inducing.

[ He offers a smile. ]

...although I have to admit, I wasn't sure about darkness. When I think about my worst days, I tend to think of them as "dark". But maybe that's the wrong way to approach it. Darkness isn't necessarily bad, after all.

Darkness is like power, Dimitri. Whether it's good or bad isn't determined by that it is, but rather what one intends to do with it. But I doubt I need to say that to someone like you. I don't know fully your experiences, but given what you've shared with me today, I can suspect that you are already familiar with what power entails.

[And likely how it can corrupt someone who doesn't have the resolve to wield it. Sometimes she wonders if Zant had a different sort of power, if he might have turned out differently, or if the darkness in his heart, the jealousy, the ambition ensured that he would always turn out as he did.

It's unlikely she'll ever know the truth of things.]

Besides, if I'm a wielder of a magic that is what many would consider to be darkness, then it would be a safe assumption to say that I'm bad. And yet, how good I've been to the people here already.

I am.

[ His smile is a bit sad now, but he meets her gaze with a firm nod. ]

Even at home, I had a power... and a darkness, some would say. Not just political, of course, but physical. The crest I bear...

[ He sighs. It's a lot to explain off the cuff. ]

The point is, I know what that means. That power can be used or abused depending on the wielder. And so far, you do not strike me as one to abuse it. [ Well. Maybe not in a very big way, anyway. ]

And I like to think I am a decent judge of character.

[With a tilt of her head as she listens intently, she does pause for just a moment. It's the first time she's hearing anything about a 'crest' anything. At least, to her knowledge. She can't recall Yuri making mention of anything like that either. Although she's intrigued enough to ask further, he carefully puts aside.

It must be something important. Worthy of her digging for it later. All things with time and patience, though Midna is hardly the most patient individual.

Instead, Dimitri continues his line of thought, all to arrive at his assessment of her person. He perceives her kindly. Maybe more kinder than she deserves, in fact, but isn't that generally the way of it.]

I would like to think that I would wield power responsibly, but I'm aware that much to my dismay, I'm not perfect. It's possible there's a scenario in which I might be driven by ambition. But perhaps the same could be said for all of us. Regardless, I'll take that as a compliment, considering I don't feel I've made the most diplomatic first impression to most here.

[Mostly because she's a brat and she knows it.]

You've seemed alright to me.

[ Dimitri responds without a hint of deception or unkindness in his voice. Sure, she's a little demanding, but that's... not the worst trait for anyone to have. ]

You haven't been all that difficult. Or at least I don't think so.

[ He does like to see the best in people, of course. ]

What a high compliment.

[She utters out a shameless laugh, perhaps a little surprised by his evaluation. He thinks of her entirely too kindly, she thinks. She doesn't hate that either. There's the sliver of temptation to take advantage of that, but in this world, in this circumstance, she doesn't think that's either necessary or practical.]

Although say it like that and it almost sounds like a challenge. Perhaps you just haven't thought me insufferable yet. Many wouldn't stand for my antics without giving me a piece of their mind.

To be fair, I have friends who get up to... antics as you might say. I can handle them, in all honesty.

[ If nothing else, he has a lot of patience. ]

You're not as bad as all that.

See, that's just solidifying it. You're going to invite trouble, Dimitri. I love getting under the skin of others. When I can. Something about the reaction just gets to me. But even if you're immune to that sort of thing, I hope you'll be willing to humour me. Otherwise, you're going to make me put in considerably more effort than I usually like to put in.

[But she's laughing, so it must not bother her too much. Maybe she just sees him as a challenge. It's an intriguing adventure when she finds those who would rather embrace her for who she is than otherwise chide her for being herself.]

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