1630, Sea Season, Disorder Week
Context
Irillo has gone to Boldhome, carrying a message. The party waits somewhere south of Jaldon’s Keep for his return. (See Session 6 Prax 23: Oracles and Messengers)
Events
A few days into waiting, Berra is mending a strap on her bracer when she stops to ask the camp in general, “Did anyone else get the idea that oracle was just making things up?”
The steady shick, shick of Varanis’ whetstone pauses as the Vingan looks up. “Yes? But I wondered if that was just because I didn’t like what she said to me.”
“I mean, you didn’t even ask a question. It just said something!” From her tone, Berra has been chewing on this for a while.
“I made the mistake of thinking out loud. Never do that around an oracle.”
“Shut up you,” Berra says to her iron sword. “I do think. But yeah, did it think that was the important thing you had to say?”
“That sort of thing rarely matters to oracles, in my experience. They decide what to tell you and you decide what to do with it.” Varanis shrugs and checks the edge of her knife.
“I was going to ask a question about Humakt,” Berra says. “But I can ask the god instead.”
“I’ve been wondering… was her question about loyalties for you or for Lord Raven?” The question is asked carefully, as if Varanis is aware that it might be uncomfortable.
Berra blinks, and then looks at Varanis. “Oh. Um, I dunno.” She glances down at her sword, and then sighs. “Me, I think. I din’t know you’d heard that one. But the eyes were looking at me.”
“The other bit was certainly for you,” Maalira murmurs.
Maalira gets a sympathetic look from Varanis. “There is an oracle in the Great Necropolis who answers questions with questions,” Varanis says in an attempt to shift the subject away from Berra’s emotional concerns. “But I had the impression that it’s unusual behaviour for this one.”
“White ladies shouldn’t stab,” Berra tells the leather in her hands. Her ears are a bit pink.
“Everything about that was wrong,” Maalira says. “Wrong day, wrong speech.”
“Were we the people it espected?” Berra looks up suddenly. “What if it got the wrong people?”
Shick, shick. Varanis continues to sharpen the blade.
“And what the hell did it ask Irillo?” Berra ties off her waxed thread with a scowl.
“It was a simple enough question, but why ask it?” Maalira observes.
“Yeah. I mean, that’s what I’m wondering. Was it about Telmori? Did he just make them all be kept outside? Or was it a warning?”
Varanis shrugs. “Oracles.”
Berra takes a deep breath. “You got your answer though right, Maalira?”
“Well, yes, though I’m not sure how useful it will be. I was expecting more of a named location.”
“So is it basically just bluffing? I mean, is it really any good at all?” The Humakti looks confused.
“Neither of you has a lot of experience with oracles, do you?” Varanis asks, pausing her work to look between them.
Berra looks to Varanis and shakes her head. No.
“A little, but nothing that helps with this one.”
“Oracles are reliably unreliable,” Varanis says. “They tell you useful things, if you know how to interpret it. In Esrolia, there are often people who know the oracles well who can help interpret. They care for their oracle, ensure the sacrifices are suitable, and such. This one feels more like a wild oracle. I’ve not seen one before, but I’ve heard about them before.”
“Wild oracle?” Berra echoes. “Wha’?”
“One without a priest.” Varanis frowns. “It’s the Esrolian term… I don’t know if there are other terms for such things.” She glances at Maalira to see if the White Lady is familiar with the idea.
Berra looks to Maalira as well.
Maalira shakes her head. “I guess oracles have to come from somewhere.”
“Wait, are they a species? Do they have parents?” Further confusion settles on Berra.
“That’s a scary thought.” Maalira pulls a face. “Toddler oracles.”
“Oracles that still like milk,” Berra agrees. “Oh gosh. Teenage oracles with something to prove!”
“Oracles with an attitude.” Maalira looks a bit wild around the eyes.
“But you’d get really Harmonious, kind oracles too, right?”
The Vingan watches the ideas bounce between Berra and Maalira with growing amusement until she can’t help it. She bursts out laughing.
Berra is still looking hopefully at Maalira.
Maalira looks at Varanis. “What??”
“You two…” She’s laughing so hard that she can’t manage words.
“Maybe a wild oracle got her,” Berra tells Maalira seriously. “She should be fine soon.”
Varanis laughs harder.
“It might not be a Harmonious one…” the Humakti muses.
Tears stream down Varanis’ face as she tries to catch her breath and fails.
Berra pauses in talking, and looks at Varanis, then back at Maalira. “Um?”
