[mission: hyrypia] and when our bottles and all we are fill’d with immortality

[onemind]

CHARACTERS: The Barithian Hunters (and anyone sneaking along)
WHERE: Hyrypia - The Finger Maze
WHEN: DAY :018
SUMMARY: The barithian hunt leads into the depths of the Finger Maze.
WARNINGS: Violence. Animal slaughter. Character death. Need a warning added? PM this account please!

THE FINGER MAZE
DAY :018
IN MORNING'S PRE-DAWN GRAY the camp is far more subdued than on preceding days. There's no music, breakfast is a quiet and simple affair, and the servants are hushed as they go about their duties. Before the sun has even fully risen, the members of the Envoys participating in the hunt make their way to their mounts. When they arrive they are given a speech that seems practiced - likely only a slight modification of something that the Elinmaster has said many times before. The group - just under forty hunters kitted out with all of the weapons and traps they have had time to learn in their days on the graze - is brought to the fenceline running parallel to the technomagical barrier which guards the mouth of the Finger Maze proper. In the fence is a plain gate. Once the hunting party is gathered there, it opens. A slash in the technomagical barrier disintegrates before them and the smell of ozone evaporates or is carried into the twisting depths of the Maze by the wind howling mournfully inward from off the Graze. The Elinmaster leads the hunting party through the gap.

Once on the other side, the party draws pauses until the technomagical barrier rises once more behind them. No crowds today. No onlookers (unless they're being especially industrious). Then the Elinmaster brings a familiar sounding horn to their lips. It's long, low wailing note echoes down into the maze and splinters down the endless twisting pathways. With that, the hunt begins.

INTO THE LABYRINTH
I. THE STAGING GROUND
HERE IS HOW YOU HUNT A BARITHIAN, explains the Elinmaster. First, a field of battle needs to be chosen - and it's always better to know the ground you're fighting on than to be caught unawares in unfamiliar territory. The hunting party will need to establish a fall back position inside the canyon that's advantageous to them, at which point it will be lain with all manner of traps. Memorize it. You'll want to know every nook and cranny when you return here under duress.

Plan your routes and lay your traps. You do remember how to set them, don't you?


II. BY THE TAIL
WITH THE STAGE SET, only the star is lacking - or the villain is. But the Finger Maze is a vast labyrinthine space that stretches on for miles. Finding the Barithian, even as large as it is, presents a challenge - perhaps the second greatest challenge of the hunt. It is time for the hunters to separate. Some go off alone, some travel in small groups. Each is equipped with a small version of the horn that had summoned them to this work in the first place. Their task is simple and herculean: to search the maze for signs of the beast and locate it, then to draw its attention and lure it back into the staging ground. Lastly, they must send out the call to summon the rest of the party to rendezvous meet them where the chase will end. However, only one route leads to the barithian. Perhaps--

a) There were signs - a bone, a tell-tale scrape on the canyon walls, a corridor of felled coral. It was difficult to tell from the back of the Elin, so it made sense in the moment to dismount and check more closely. --At least, it made sense right up until now when you suddenly hear something. Something-- big. Its footfalls shake the floor under your feet; its heavy breath snorts out of its multiple sets of nostrils with a wet visceral sound. You can’t go back the way you came - the trembling footfalls seem to come from that direction. Luckily, there's a narrow cave opening in the canyon wall right there.

Inside is dark. The cave goes very deep indeed - so deep that after a time you can smell the promise of fresh air again. Maybe there's another exit? Which is good, since the way you entered is no longer an option: the beast is there, it's massive forepaws clawing into the stone on either side of the cave entrance and its huge mutli-nostriled nose sucking in big, gulping breaths.

b) ((OOC NOTE: first come first serve)) You find the Barithian. Even with its great hulking back turned to you, it's awe-inspiring. Terrifying. The Elinmaster's assistants had described it on the way in, but their words failed to convey the details. It's disturbingly massive - mammothian, even -, its six legs coiled tight with muscle, and strong, sharp claws on each of the massive paws. You have to get it’s attention. How you do it is up to you, but you know that the moment it turns its massive head toward you with its beady eyes hidden behind a broad, triangular face plate and its multinostrils flaring with a horrible groaning noise that it's time to get a move on.

c) Your search has turned up nothing - but that's not surprising is it? The maze is huge. Not everyone could strike gold. Hell, not everyone would even want to. It’s almost a relief until you hear it: the low, moan of the signal horn echoing through the maze-like canyon. You need to get back to the staging ground and you need to go fast - or risk leaving the other hosts to face the beast alone.

III. THE BATTLE
THE HORN DOES ITS JOB. By the time the hosts unlucky enough to have the tiger by its tail come riding back into the staging ground, many members of the hunting party have already returned and are armed, if not ready, for when the creature comes barreling in behind them. It shakes the brittle bone coral with the weight of its galloping footfalls and makes a deep, low sonorous noises that echoes down the stone walls. With its ire raised, the barithian is even more fearsome than it had seemed from a distance. It’s size and strength are undeniable up close. The creature tears great mounds of earth up under its clawed feet and there's a mesmerizing, horrific quality to the flash of filtered canyon light off its sharp teeth.

The riders are now tasked with the last phase of the challenge - kill or be killed, using the weapons and techniques they have learned in their time here. And hey, maybe you have a few non-Hyrypian tricks up your sleeves you can play with some subtlety. Fighting fair seems less than ideal when one of those huge paws comes swiping right at you.


IV. THE FRUIT OF DIPLOMACY
'DON'T GET CLOSE TO THE HEAD,' had seemed like an easy to follow rule back on the Graze, but the reality of facing down with the barithian is far more complicated. And despite being slowed by the environment, the traps laid for it, countless spears jutting from its dense marbled hide, here in its last moments the great beast is at its most dangerous. Maybe someone gets over confidant. Maybe it's just general exhaustion. Maybe it seems like the barithian is staggering when really it's turning for one final, deadly snap of its ferocious jaws.

It bowls three riders from their Elin with one swipe from its massive paw - mechanics twisting and bursting with brilliant flares of released technomagical energy - then lunges for the felled hunters left in the wake of their ruined mounts. A Descendant throws up both arms in some lunatic, useless defense mechanism. Beside her, Lavellan drives the blunt end of his spear into the ground and braces the shaft across his knee. The Barithian drives itself down on the point of the spear, snaps down on his arm by reflex and then recoils - tossing him clear like a horrifying rag doll as the great animal thrashes.

There's an immediate, palpable, indescribable POP! A ship being hulled and all the air sucked out of into into the vacuum of space. A glass bauble splitting into a hundred thousand pieces on some distant stone floor. A seam splitting. A branch snapped across the knee. And then there's nothing left at all except the frothing barithian snapping out those nearest i to it.


V. THE RETURN
THE RIDE BACK TO THE CAMP seems to take twice as long as the one they took to the Finger Maze - though it hardly seems long enough, knowing what lies at the end. Certainly the other Hosts will have felt Lavellan's death, but you know what they say. Seeing is believing.

It doesn’t matter. The camp awaits their return regardless. As they ride through the gate again one of the massive technomagically driven wagons passes them, headed into the maze to retrieve their kill. Once they reach the edges of the encampment, the atmosphere there remains subdied. While the other Envoys and Hyrypian hosts might not know the nitty gritty details, the certainly seem to have considered the possibility of things going badly. There is food, drink, and eventually even some gentle, sober music, however the evening is quiet and many of the envoys retreat to their own tents rather than remain in the public spaces.

Some victories are not celebrated.

---

((OOC Notes: This log covers the barithian hunt and any relating events that take place on DAY :018. You can find information about the hunt and ask event specific questions HERE.

Have more generalized questions? Drop them on the MISSION: HYRYPIA OOC POST or get in touch with us on the Mod Contact page.))

NAVIGATION • GAME CALENDAR • MISSION: HYRYPIA • FAQ
• MOD CONTACT • GLOSSARY

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

Comments

[wrackful]

You know none of them know what they're looking for, either.

[Reports from the Rabadoceans Murphy had hassled about just what the hell a Barithian was had been varied and vague. A big scary monster had been the only real conclusion, good enough to match to Misato and Gildor's encounter the other night, but even that hadn't exactly netted them a decent description.]

The thing could turn invisible or something. We don't know.

[And maybe they shouldn't have let the others go in without knowing.]

[skaikru]

( hunting a gigantic, possibly incredibly dangerous, maybe even invisible alien space creature on an alien space planet surrounded by other possibly dangerous, technically "invisible" enemy alien space creatures... well, if that's not terrifying and deeply disconcerting, what is?

clarke takes a moments pause from staring intently through her binoculars to give murphy a look that screams no, like she's decided that's awful so it can't be the case. then she's picking up and moving even further down along the cliff edge. they are high, high above the ground, but despite the little flip-flop of vertigo in her stomach, clarke sticks as close to the ledge as safely possible. all the action is so far away, and for the first time she's kicking herself for not participating, at least as a means to know exactly what was going on within the mazes depths. up here clarke can't even rightly tell which elin-mounted speck below is which.

but she can convince herself — )

I think that might be Lexa.

( — and thus feel a little better in being able to keep tabs on one of those close to her. )

[calhar]

[ The connection between Clarke and Lexa is reassuring, somehow; easier to understand than the link forged by the symbiotes, pre-dating that particular interference. Even when it's underscored by Clarke's anxious desperation, like it is now. Mat risks stepping a bit closer to the ledge, following their more reckless example as he squints down at the fast-moving specks.

He has no idea if that's Lexa. There's a brief urge to say it's pointless trying to tell, but he passes it over in favor of letting Clarke dream. ]

Say something does happen— can you really speak to them from this far off?

[wrackful]

[Murphy looks more amused at the sharp look from Clarke than anything, his attention turning from the group below to her as she edges further out - maybe a little too far - on the edge. He doesn't bother checking to see if she's right about Lexa. They're too high to tell. But not that high, the sharp spike of dry amusement that comes at Mat's question.]

Yeah, this isn't far. [They're still within sight, after all.] Try walking straight out [he points a thumb out at the horizon] about three hours, then you might get out of range. Probably not with your brood.

[Not that he'd deliberately tested it. Being stuck in an underground jail had been enough experience. Either way, this was nothing, but the longer they stood here talking, the further away the group was getting. He looks out over the clifftops, the direction the party seemed to be moving.]

There's a turn. If we move there, we might get ahead of them.

[skaikru]

( well, huh. mark that down as something to try out, how far away one has to run to be completely alone in their own head. but now is not the time to see if they can press into the thoughts of those so far below. clarke had been appropriately stricken at the possibility of distracting the riders during the messenger race, an arguably less dangerous and intense tournament than the one down below, and isn't going to risk reaching out to lexa or bellamy just to reassure herself that the pair of them are okay. not when it meant they might be too occupied to realize they were about to run into the mouth of some giant, mysterious, maybe invisible monster. )

Let's not test it right now, ( clarke breezes, not deigning to tear her eyes from the riders down below until murphy points out a better viewing vantage. then she's only quickly tracking his line of vision, and spotting the particular outcropping of rock around the bend that he means before pressing the binoculars back to her face to try to track lexa again.

but turns out, trying to edge along the dropoff of a cliff, looking down but not necessarily looking at her feet, is a terrible idea. clarke's confident in her balance, not even remotely scared of heights, and considers herself careful enough not to end up walking blindly over the side of the cliff. she doesn't, however, account for loose pieces of coral pebbles rolling beneath her next step and clattering down into the canyon below.

or her foot skating over the ledge to follow them. )

soRRY 2 slow

[calhar]

[ Mat watches Murphy gesture to the horizon and his mood tangibly sours across the link. Three hours is bad enough. The fact that it only gets a maybe is worse, and the idea of Clarke and the others being stuck in his head for even longer distances than that—

Is nothing new, actually. He never managed to shake Rand, and maybe it's a small blessing that this connection doesn't bring headaches and disorientation with it. He hadn't been able to shake him until coming here, at least; he hasn't felt Rand since. The implications of that are a downward spiral he's been intent on ignoring, but this time Clarke saves him the trouble of finding his own distraction by nearly falling off a cliff. ]

Light— [ He's only close enough to catch her arm because he'd been taking her reckless lead (last time he's doing that, clearly). He gets hold of her sleeve before he realizes he hasn't got much to brace against, and it's the best he can do to hope she hasn't overbalanced enough to drag them both down. ]

even slower...

[wrackful]

[It's a sharp spike of immediate panic, and in the split second where Murphy's looking back at the two of them he's already hissing out a swearword, moving. Reaching to grab Mat's arm and hauling backwards before gravity can do any more damage the other way.]

[skaikru]

( it's a precarious moment, drawn out as if in slow motion: that suspended moment where she expects solid rock beneath her heel, the heartbeat in which she's half standing on air. then the lurch in her stomach, both arms instinctively reaching out to catch something, anything, that isn't there to grab onto. the alarm, the panic that she inevitably projects across the link like a distress beacon long before any semblance of a scream works its way up her throat.

then there's the tug on her sleeve, an anchoring weight. mat's grabbed at her arm and for a precarious few moments, they teeter on the edge of falling over together. then a sharper tug, murphy grappling with the weight of both of them, and the combined effort of hauling her back from death.

adrenaline plays tricks on the body after close calls. both feet are firmly planted on solid ground now and they've collectively stumbled back a meter or two from the edge, and yet clarke's legs shake like the rocks beneath them aren't even there. she's got both hands tight on mat's arm like his wrist is her only anchor to the world, and her heart is playing a frantic rhythm up in her ears. it takes a while to collect words. )

I'm sorry. ( for being reckless, walking too close to the edge, almost falling and taking one or both of them with her. apologies come easily to clarke's lips, but there's something else that warrants saying between shallow, quick breaths. )

Thank you. ( and she takes it in turn to look at each covered face so murphy and mat can both feel the weight of it. then commences uncurling her clammy gloved hands from around mat's forearms. ) We should stay a few feet from the edge.

v slow race. also are we gonna watch lavellan die in this thread

[calhar]

[ The sharp fear, the unsteady relief and the regret in her apology — it all registers, and Mat feels plenty of sympathy for it. That doesn't change the fact that his first response to her final comment is a spike of amusement that nearly makes it into a full-formed laugh.

His relief's tangible, amusement aside. ]

You're welcome.

[ He takes a pointed step away from the ledge as soon as she's standing on her own, canting a grateful look towards Murphy before he looks back towards the maze below. For a moment there's nothing, then a small figure darts out of the tangle of coral — good luck figuring out who it is, though. After a pensive pause: ]

Maybe we ought to head down.

[ It doesn't feel like they'll do much good, honestly, and the idea of falling off a cliff for nothing isn't really appealing. ]

iirc that was the plan

[wrackful]

[The loss of weight against momentum has Murphy staggered back a few steps as soon as Clarke's up and Mat's steady again. It isn't a distance he bridges, either, to check either of them are alright. In the moments of her catching her breath, Mat's responding, he's just staring at them. Not shaken by what had almost happened. Shaken that his bug hadn't gone off, hadn't warned, made him pull Clarke back before she'd even stumbled. Wasn't that how it was meant to work? Wasn't that what Cathaway had wanted him down here for?

He pushes the questions aside. Forces himself to catch up on the conversation, lagging behind.]

Right, just waste all the time we took getting up here. [It isn't as dry as it maybe should be. He looks off, over the way they'd been supposed to be heading, before Clarke's trip.] We should stick with it until the hunt's finished.