NOVEMBER EVENT | THE HARBINGER ORACLE

[beleos]

HEDGING YOUR BETS

Bearers feel it. Similar to when the Scorching Isles was opened, there is the same tug, from somewhere in the distance. Those who are in springstar feel it from closer, like a blossom of warmth in your heart, you feel the Oracle spring to life. Those in Highstorm feel it too, but distant. Far away. You remember Cyrus’s words, that it would come to life in Springstar, and you know, just from the relative distance, from how far away it feels – He was probably right.

So bearers must make their way to the center of Springstar’s residential district. Finding one’s way to Springstar will be difficult, in fact. Preparations have been underway since Cyrus’s announcement, and Springstar leaps into action. The Legionnaires are already marching by the time the first bearers start moving throughout the city. In addition to any of Meridian’s own preparations, the Legionnaires establish choke points and start organizing evacuations. It will be difficult to make your way through Springstar, but the closer bearers make it to the hedge maze, and what seems to be the oracle at the center, the warmer their chests feel. Throughout the city, it feels warm, like small wicks of heat. The closer bearers become, the more it feels like a torrent. It is burning them to their center and igniting them to their cores. Like the fire of drive, is what it feels like. Like the hunger for something more than just food, or anything else, like the anticipation of victory.

The maze itself is where it is the most intense as bearers start to make their way through the hedge maze. Vines and brambles lie within a neat hedge, and it looks like it is safe to jump, or scale, but the moment a bearer tries to jump it, cut through it, or even go beneath it, roots, brambles, and vines lash out to entrap bearers, and start to drag them down and into the hedges. You will have to figure out a way out – lest you be stuck for seemingly the near future.

Of course, when Dimitri’s hand touches the stone statue in the middle, it all goes dark, and wherever you were, whoever you were fighting –

Every bearer collapses at the same time.

YOU'D BETTER BE A-MAZE-ING!

In the dark, there is that fiery impression of the Harbinger. Competition, drive, disdain for even those that best them. It is clear, in the dark, with your eyes closed, that the Harbinger does not see the Bearers as worthy to obtain it. You feel ghostly hands on your mind, into you, as if it is delving for more, trying to pluck and pull out the right memory. It looks for victories, triumphs, defeats, or betrayals. Something that shows the mettle of the bearer, what it is looking for. When it finds what it is looking for – or is this just a dream? – after the bearer experiences the dream, they will get the distinct impression that it is not enough. That the Harbinger wants more. It wants to see what this bearer can do. It wants to see you rise to the challenge, bearer! Will you do as it wishes, and show it the scope of your mettle, or will you capitulate and let the Harbinger know that it was right – you aren’t enough?

The Harbinger wants you to prove them wrong. Can you do that? Will you use spite to convince it that it is wrong? The Harbinger at the center of this labyrinth imparts to bearers, that it will not allow the weak to succeed, that nobody who cannot reach it, would ever be able to protect them. They look down on bearers, and it is up to you, to convince them that you are worth their attention.

When bearers wake, they will be stuck in a foyer. The walls seem blank, and there is a door, leading further into the maze. It is not… fully dark, everything here seems to be lit just enough to move around without trouble, but it is not bright. Bearers can look left, and right, and see others beside them. They are not alone, but nor are they with others of their faction. No, you can feel it, between all of you, gathered here in one space. The humming of your shared aspect fills the room, as if all of you together in one space feels right.

You will not be able to stay. The foyer lasts only until the last person leaves, and if any try to stay behind and stationary, they will find that eventually a door appears, and the room begins to shrink. You had better get moving!

You must move further into the maze. You will find that grouping up for long periods of time becomes impossible, and moving from one door to the next can find foes, allies, or even neutral parties. Every door you open within this maze, leads to new and unusual locations. You may both walk in, from opposite ends, only to find that the doors are gone when you turn your back. Do you end up on a precarious path over spikes, lava, or even water? Do you walk into a room with your greatest desire, a hunger that can now never be sated? Will you do anything to find your way through the corridors? Will bearers help each other, and resist the call of the Harbinger, or will you push over even your treasured ones to win?

MADE IN THE SHADE

And even further in, as you start to catch sight of them, patches of darkness seep into the corners, into everything. They may be hidden, at first. They may lurk underneath patches of leaves, or in shadowed corners. But the longer bearers are within this labyrinth, the longer the shadows seem. They start to reach out, to pull bearers into their shadowy depths. You may feel malaise, or an unwillingness to continue, once you first step within these patches. The longer you are there, the harder it is to get out. You will need help from your friends or dear ones, or sheer strength of will – but can you fight on, as you start to lose the things that motivate you?

And then there are the visions. People you know, love, or trust, they round corners, just ahead. They seem just out of range, and at first, it is difficult to tell if they are there or not. But they happen to reappear, and then disappear around a corner. Try and chase them, if you dare. When your fingers touch their arm, or grab their clothing, or heaven forbid, if you pull them into a hug – it seems impossible to pull away. They were treasured, weren’t they? There is a reason they appear here, to you. Why would you want to pull them away? Why would you –

They reach out, their fingers seem long, as they reach toward your shard – they will not be deterred by clothing or armor, their fingers seem to bend and twist around the junctions – before they find purchase on your shard. They rip it from you, and it feels like you are being separated from something. It’s painful, it hurts, but the last thing you see, as they hold your shard in your hand, is someone you care very deeply for, placing the shard in the same place on their own body, and your own face smiles back at you, and it all goes black. You are gone. Into… nothing.

NOTES

Here are some prompts to set the scene and foundation of the Exalt Oracle! Please refer to the ooc post for more details about what’s happening in the labyrinth! Feel free to direct questions here.

If your character gets killed by a shadow-copy, please let us know in the reporting post that goes up on November 20th if they touch the effigy. If they do not, please let us know on the deaths page! Don't forget to report any dissipations as a whole! Please also let us know if your character is saved by another bearer, or if your character’s shard is taken by the shadow copy for the entire duration of the event. This will not result in any permadeath, but you might get some cool lore! Teehee! If your character defeats a shadow creature, please let us know [HERE]

Comments

1b

[tidemark]

[There is an arrow pointed directly at him.

If it flies, Childe is quick to dodge, athletic enough that the movement seems utterly natural—and he draws his own bow from his back, not the valuable Polar Star he once possessed but a weapon borrowed from this place, suitable enough as a tool for his purposes of survival.

So they face each other, arrow to arrowhead. The smile on his face is thin and curved, and it doesn't reach his eyes.]

Oh? We must be enemies, if you're looking at me like that. Though I don't think we have ever met before this moment. Unless... did you know me before?

[She wouldn't be the first. Childe appears unbothered by this fact as he takes a step to the side—unknowingly, his foot depresses the stone beneath it, and something clicks.] Uh oh. [Another leap away allows him to narrowly avoid the wall of fire that blazes up between them, rippling with gold heat, so they are now separated by this barrier.]

Ha ha, [why is he laughing] it looks like this room may be trapped!

[warmare]

[It flies, because Hayame recognized that man. She did not know he had gone from this place and then returned... but she did recognize him. As a Zenite. And she did not tolerate the sight of those she considered her enemy on a random day, let alone when an Oracle was at stake.

He has the chance to dodge because she gambles the accuracy of her first shot for speed. In the next second, her calloused fingers have pulled another arrow from the quiver at her side, and the next... Her eyes narrow. Or perhaps he will only notice that one does, stormy grey and filled with a cold, simmering rage. The other, a sickly green that does not match, is hidden beneath a leather eyepatch.

- What is he talking about? He never met her? This isn't the time for jokes, or playing around. But he sure is laughing, even as Hayame herself has to jerk back away from him to avoid the sudden flare and lick of flames.

Fine. So this room is trapped.

That doesn't stop her from wordlessly firing off another arrow, heedless of the flames. To compensate for the potential warp of path through the heat, she simply aims for the largest target: his chest. She does not make much use of magic, but the long, thick shaft of a jinba's arrow, fired from a six-foot-long bow by a creature strong enough to crush a man's skull in one hand, could easily punch through armor, let alone flesh.

So this one, he may wish to put more effort into dodging than talking.]

[tidemark]

[The intensity of that hateful glare only enlivens him; it is far from the first time he's encountered outright animosity, being who and what he is, although in this case he's not aware of what he must have done to earn it. Well, besides the battle of factions at hand. Perhaps that is enough.

At least he is being taken seriously, at last.

Her aim is impeccable—and so is the formidable strength behind the next arrow drawn to pierce him. It whistles when it flies, cutting through the wall of flame, angled perfectly at his chest. Childe manages to evade, dodging behind a stone pillar, though it requires a quick sideways turn that allows the arrow to rake across his outer bicep. Blood swells from the shallow wound; he puts his unoccupied hand up to it, slick red on gloved fingertips.

His laughter echoes in the chamber, eerie on the stone walls. Excited. A little deranged.]

Well, you're very good, aren't you? I'm impressed! [Who says he can't talk and fight at the same time? It's not like he's using his mouth for anything else... canonically a chatterbox during his boss fight...] But it won't be so easy to defeat me.

[This would be much easier if only he had his Vision, but Childe is nothing if not adaptable, and the challenge on its own is thrilling. He drops down low, aiming his bow and sending off one arrow, then another—aimed at Hayame's fetlocks, intent to force her to move and potentially trigger a trap fire.]

[warmare]

[She is very good. But no, Hayame does not think this will be easy. She remembers this man as a skilled archer… first, when they had clashed under the service of Pleroma and Kenoma, and then… then, he’d had a choice. They all had a new choice, this time without the corrupting influence of the Regent’s black potions. And still, this man had chosen Zenith, chosen to align himself with those who would deny all of them a potential return to their worlds.

So this man’s life was forfeit. Hayame would strangle every single Zenite with her own hands if she had to in order to save her world’s lives. Their weight wasn’t comparable in the slightest.

But she isn’t a game boss that taunts between rounds isn’t inclined to talk. It isn’t “personal” with this man like that, though he was an enemy. The words he throws at her don’t distract, he hasn’t said anything yet that actually hits-

And she’s more focused on dodging his arrows. Thankfully, her fetlocks made a slim target, and it was not so difficult to do… but it was impossible to do without moving. Not willing to risk moving only slightly and stepping directly into a new flame… she breaks into a canter. The summoned flame singes a patch of her long black tail.

But she returns fire, emerging around a burst of heat and loosing the arrow towards his belly.]

[tidemark]

[Silence lapses for a period of time, during which they duel neck and neck, loosing arrows between them while the fire blazes in their path. He dodges again, her arrow whipping dangerously close to the skin of his belly. She doesn't speak back to him; disappointing, but not a surprise. Perhaps she simply needs her focus on dodging his assault. If so, it's commendable, because he wouldn't want someone not giving a fight with him their all.

Still, there isn't any fun if personal stakes aren't involved. Childe is someone who enjoys knowing his opponent, and sometimes even befriending them if they are powerful and catch his interest. Perhaps to Hayame's dismay, she will soon feel the intrusion of a mind—that slip of Communion, Childe's presence the blazing hot burn of a Harbinger, making itself known through the tether of mental communication.]

Will you at least tell me your name? That way I will know what to call you when I have defeated you.

[And at the same time, he shoots again—aimed for her neck. As if to test her will and concentration at once.]

[warmare]

[If Hayame could have kept him out, she would have kept him out. She dislikes Communion. She dislikes anyone she did not trust, honestly most people she supposedly did, being able to winnow into her hearts or head and potentially see things she did not wish them to. But the Harbinger Aspect is enhanced in this place, and it was already close to Iconoclast. She cannot put more energy into trying to keep him out while also maintaining the intense focus required in a duel of such expert archers-

But she does not respond in Communion.

As she throws more speed into her gallop in the narrow tunnel system, hooves scrambling a moment and another spout of fire licking painfully at a back leg, his arrow whistles through the space her neck used to be half a second past, slicing a few long black hairs from her mane as it fires through. In the next second, she has fired back, center mass.]

You can tell your little Zenite friends that it was Hayame who bested you!

[She already knew that her name was known, that she had a reputation.

Let them fucking add to it.]

[tidemark]

[ooc: i'm happy working toward a resolution on this thread in the next tag or two, since it's mostly just SHOOT BACK AND FORTH action, unless there was anything else you wanted to do! they can get separated by a changing room or something convenient as we discussed!]

[The response surprises him. While he's utilized Communion now a few times in the thick of it, as either ease of communication or to target an opponent—or simply because there was no other choice—she refuses it as best she can, her voice loud and commanding in the room. Her aim true.

The air is getting hot with flame. He feels sweat on his skin, sticking to the collar of his shirt, greasing his brow so much he has to wipe it away to keep his eyes clear. There are no seconds left, though, when she fires back; he is caught by that next arrow.

It strikes home in his left shoulder, a blazing pierce of flesh and muscle. Pain ripples through to her unwilling side of the channel of Communion. Out loud, he manages a teeth-clenched grunt but utters no other sound.

None, except for an echo of her name.]

Hayame...

[Formidable. An expert archer, likely better than him. Childe withdraws behind another pillar to snap the shaft of the arrow a few inches over the wound; his shirt is already red with his own blood. His grins, almost crazed, at the sight of it. He is not someone who will retreat even injured like this. And he knows this is precious time, because she will be taking advantage of his injury to target him again and bring him down. So he rounds the pillar, this time two arrows on his bow, whistling through the hazy smoke of the room to drive her back and buy himself space.]

[warmare]

[ooc: i agree!!!! lets do room change next tag or so?]

[She feels her arrow strike, and with the enhanced sensitivity and strength of the Harbinger... perhaps Childe will feel the accompanying surge of pride through the lingering of communion after she had attempted to cut it. It isn't sadistic, per se, she does not derive pleasure from violence... but there is something intrinsically twisted in her inability to accept failure, striving always for perfection and dominance and feeling thrill only when she seemed to succeed. He disappears around the pillar and she takes the chance to gallop closer, try to circle around while dodging the fire traps, thinking she sees a flicker of movement on the left side of the pillar-

But he emerges from the right. The flicker had been a trick of the flames, and though she manages to throw herself barely out of the path of one arrow... he had fired two, and that second one embeds in the gap between her fur wrapped waist and the line of her armor where it begins on her equine shoulders. The pain lances through, but she snarls through it, sharp fangs bared, intent on continuing forward even if it meant she would have to abandon weapons for the bestial choice of flashing hooves and brute force, anything to turn the blood on his shirt to blood on the back of his head, to broken bones, to whatever needed to dissipate a Zenite, but-

The fires have triggered the next part of the trap, and as Hayame forces herself forward... the very hall begins to rumble around them, the floor suddenly shifting as the walls began to shift.]