abraxaslogs | WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

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WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

Welcome to The Free Cities! The portal exits outside the capital city of Cadens. The first impression of the city is its sheer size. It sprawls out across the landscape like a great hulking beast at rest. The wall that encircles it barely contains it, the buildings of Cadens practically bulging against its restraint.

The air here seems thicker somehow, tinged with a scent that’s acrid and smoky. Smog hangs high over the city, belched out by smokestacks that tower over the industrial district. The desert stretches out behind it, dotted with towers and dust clouds that disappear into the horizon. Multiple gates lead inside and each is staffed by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms that wave a steady stream of people through without appearing to pay much attention. People are coming and going almost all of the time, to and from the outposts and areas of activity around the city proper. It’s difficult to tell just what’s out there beyond the impression of tall metal structures and a great deal of labor. Wagons carrying travelers to Libertas and Aquila roll out from the Travel Post outside the city wall.

Anyone who can sense magic will notice a much lower concentration here. No one will be stopped or questioned at the gate, even if the soldiers seem to take note of the fugitives from Thorne.

The activity and sheer number of citizens can be overwhelming. It’s crowded and loud and feels constantly in motion with everyone talking and yelling over each other. It’s easy to get swept up in the ever-moving throng or find oneself ducking into the mouth of a narrow alley just to breathe.

Anyone who’s willing to make their way to the northern part of the city and Portham Hall will find Prime Minister Marlo Reiner available to receive them.

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[Louis sits next to the silver-haired human. He signals the bartender. Whiskey on the rocks, thank you.]

I'm not in the habit of relying on charity for my drinks.

[He takes a long drink of his whiskey, his ears pressed back.]

You were one of the humans who escaped from Thorne, correct?

[Underneath the smell of deer that radiates off him, there's the scent of trace blood and treated wood coming from his knee and leg. But if he's injured in any way, he doesn't let onto it.]

[ The prominent smell of a deer in the middle of a city should catch him by surprise; it doesn't, because the shadow of antlers sprawl across the table and there's an actual fucking deer speaking to him. So that answers that.

Geralt lets his gaze roam over said deer. His eyes shine gold in the torchlight. Is he going to ask why there's a deer making conversation? No. He isn't. Not relevant, for the moment. He just wants to drink. Though he's starting to wonder if sleep should've been the better route.

That's half-correct. He lets a few seconds tick by. ] I escaped. I'm not human. [ It's said simply, without explanation. There's a sense he won't give one, even if asked. His fingers rest on the handle of his stein. ] Why?

You're not? What are you, then?

[Louis didn't get anywhere by not asking obvious questions of people who probably won't answer him.

He's is getting a little sick of the human family calling themselves different species with the slightest differences between them. If a Labrador and a Yorkie can accept they're the same species, a human with round ears and a human with pointy ears should be able to do the same.

But he doesn't say so. He just sips at his whiskey.]

Do I need a reason? We're both in a strange place now, even if we came from different worlds. [Different worlds that they both probably want to go back to. Different worlds where things don't work like they do here, where they're strange people in a strange land--though Louis is more obviously strange than most others.] I like to keep track of people who share my interests, and I can't enter this so-called Horizon the others have spoken of.

Depends who you ask. [ Something. Nothing he imagines the deer would recognize, which is most of the reason he's little interest in getting into details. If it serves no purpose, he doesn't want to bother.

His attention leaves his uninvited company once he's sized him up. No reason, says the deer, except he does have a reason—brings up the Horizon in the next breath. Geralt makes a noise in the back of his throat. Right. The Horizon.

He picks up his mug. ] Once it's made, that connection can't be broken.

[ The implications, he leaves unspoken. His link to the Singularity had not been made willingly. It isn't one he'd have chosen. (What else is new?) He can feel it, even ported into another city-state altogether, and it leaves him uneasy. If not for it being his only connection to Yennefer, he'd have searched for a way out. As it is, he still doesn't trust it entirely. And he hasn't got any idea what it might mean for them if the Singularity were shattered, as those here want. If the Free Cities will eventually find reason to look at those tethered to the Horizon as an existing threat. ]

Very well, keep your secrets if you wish. [He's not so sure what there is to be cagey about when it comes to species, but if the man isn't going to be more clear about it, then Louis is just going to call him a human. Coming from a society like his, species is important to know to distinguish everyone. Minks, much to their chagrin, often have to explain they're not pine martens, leopards similarly get mistaken cheetahs, so on and so forth.

Louis would absolutely have an ulterior motive if he understood the Horizon and that others could bring him in, but he doesn't. He assumed that one had to go to the Singularity to go to the Horizon, and hasn't had the time to reconsider that assumption in between learning about the new world and trying to get a workable prosthetic leg.]

You say that as if it's an inconvenience. On the contrary, it seems quite convenient to me to have a covert way of talking with people across the world.

[Louis sips at the whiskey, arching his eyebrow at the not-human.]

Although I'm getting the impression you're not one for talking.

[ A quiet noise says what he thinks of that, but Geralt makes no effort to expand on his thoughts about the exact benefits of the Horizon. So far, he doesn't see much reason to. ]

Do you? [ The reply comes as flat as he always sounds. ] Can't imagine why.

[ He pauses. He really is here just to drink, undisturbed. Somehow, he's not surprised to find he's been disturbed. By a deer, no less. Which, frankly, is vaguely distracting. He's not supposed to scent a deer anywhere except in the woods or by a butcher's. In either case, he's neither in the mood for conversation nor is this one that currently enraptures him. It means his patience for chatter is minimal. ]

Why don't you tell me what you're after, so I can tell you I can't help, and we both be on our way?

[Ah, okay. So the not-human is that type. Louis finishes his whiskey, paying for it without looking at the not-human.] With an attitude like that, it's a wonder you drink alone.

He turns to face the not-human, folding his hands on the bar.] But very well. It's as I said. You have access to the Horizon, I don't, and I want someone around who can tell me what is happening in Solvunn and Thorne.

[Louis wants to keep his finger on the pulse of what all three factions are doing, because that's the only way to anticipate what they might do to respond to the rogue wildcards that have been introduced into their conflict. Spying is the wrong word, but if he can't access the Horizon, then he'll have someone on the payroll who can. For a given definition of payroll, that is.]

I never ask anything for free. I'm sure we can work something out.

[ That's what he wants? If Geralt's been impassive before, the faint amusement that flickers over his face now is noticeable. In all his decades, for all the ways that people have tried to buy him off, it has never been for reconnaissance. That requires a level of subtlety no one would look for in a Witcher, never mind one like him. ]

I'm not for hire. Not for that. [ His tone suggests this is not the first time he's had to tell someone coin will not get everything—not even most things—out of him. It strikes him, though, the deer hasn't asked to be taken into the Horizon. That he presumes his access isn't possible.

Geralt studies him for a moment. It isn't information he cares to withhold. The deer will find out one way or another, and who steps into the Horizon has no bearing on him. Damn place is already crowded; what's one more? ]

Entering only requires a connection with someone already tethered.

[The amused look annoys Louis, but he doesn't let on. He's good at not letting onto much in his face. It's a trait of deer--always masking things that could give a predator the inkling of weakness.

But his brow does arch in surprise.]

That's all?

[His brow smooths again. Okay. This is less complicated than he thought.]

Are you for hire to connect me, then?

[ His expression shifts, bordering on exasperation. He's all for negotiating a price, but that the deer is offering immediately over something...like this. It says a few things. ]

Last time we were pulled in, we lost ourselves. Didn't get out for two, three weeks. [ Will it happen again? Who knows. He's only heard that it's possible to connect another; he's never done it with anyone. He's been hesitant with Ciri, even if he knows he should at some point, but so much shit went on in the Horizon during his first trip, it's. Complicated.

Either way. He could ask for money. Or a deal. The thought crosses his mind, but somehow, he isn't certain he wants to make any kind of arrangement right now. Not with him. So he doesn't answer, yet, about exactly what he's willing to do. ]

[Louis' whole life has been about transactions. It's always been a fight to decide the terms of those transactions--to keep them in the realm of money and favors, and never in his own meat.]

You 'lost yourselves'? [That does make him pause as he narrows his eyes, leaning back thoughtfully.] What does that mean?

[And, he almost wants to ask, is anyone still lost. But one question at a time. It wouldn't hurt to get all the info he needs.]

No memories. No past.

[ Just a feeling. A lingering. It'd have been one thing if they were truly blank slates. They weren't. There were remnants; pieces. He can't say if it was the same for everyone else, but at least for him, the whole thing left him too fucking raw. They hadn't been there long, but it feels as though he lived a whole damn life in there. A life that isn't his, will never be his, but now lingers in the edges of his mind.

Something other people had seen. People he's largely avoided.

Maybe that'll change, now that the Horizon is populated with others. If the deer is set on entering, perhaps knowing minimizes the risk. The damage. He doesn't care either way; he's telling, but not necessarily warning. ]

I see... [He considers what it would mean to have no memories. He actually has no idea who he'd be without memories. His earliest life experiences defined his personality in a very distinct way, and he doesn't know who he would've been without that.]

Has anyone lost their memories permanently?

[Because that would be a step too far for him. Seeing who he is without memories--yes, he thinks he can endure that. Not the worst he's ever had to deal with. But losing everything he is?]

[ A look flickers on his face, like the question is one he hasn't considered before. He hadn't, actually. He and Jaskier had both returned with their memories; so would it appear with most others. There have been no whispers of anyone who lost themselves beyond that period of time. But he realizes now that that's a possibility. Now that they won't all be gathered into a singular space. ]

Not that I'm aware. [ Hm. One more thing to keep an eye out for. He thinks it over for awhile. These are not dealings he makes. He kills monsters for money. That's it. He also realizes he isn't home, that the world here is different. That there is room, maybe, for someone largely detached from those around them beyond how much coin is on the table. It isn't necessarily the sort of person he trusts. But it is the sort of person he understands.

Besides. He's hesitated on whether or not to take Cirilla in. He hasn't been certain what the effects would be, how it might go, now that they're outside of Thorne's influence. Thorne had been steeped in the Singularity's magic; the Cities are pulling away from it. He wouldn't experiment with just anyone to test it, but, mm. The deer doesn't provoke much by way of concern or protective instincts from Geralt. So. Seems like a good time to find out. ]

I'll take you. In exchange for a bottle. [ He doesn't care what kind; if it's liquor, it's good enough. ] You're on your own inside. I'll watch your body in this world until sundown. No more, no less.

Edited 2021-09-10 18:18 (UTC)

[Louis' ear twitches, but his face remains even in his default serious and even somewhat regal expression. It's one thing deer are good at--masking.

He's not so sure he likes how cheaply the not-human is offering his services, and how suddenly he seems to have come around to the idea. He especially doesn't like the idea of being watched over by a stranger when he's incapacitated. But who else is there? It's not like there's anyone he trusts around here. The only people who he would have trusted to watch over him are dead or in another world.

But also... he has to consider the benefit of having a hub of communication he can contact from anywhere in this world. More information, more resources, more understanding of the greater world around him. That's worth the risk, isn't it?

He folds his hands on the bar, leaning his elbow against it as he looks at the not-human intently.]

Very well. Then I have two questions: is it dangerous inside, and how would you recommend I prepare?

[He's guessing he won't be able to take a weapon in there.]

[ If he's turned down, he won't be shocked. Someone putting themselves into his hands is the last thing he expects—but though the deer might smell like a deer, Geralt can tell he doesn't make him skittish. So the odds are a flip of a coin.

It lands in his favour. ]

Only inasmuch as you make it. [ His time there had been quiet, though he wasn't oblivious to the rumblings of territorial spats now and again. That was when they were all there, at the same time. Doubtful it's the case now. Should be all right, as long as the deer doesn't go looking to start anything. And if he does, that isn't Geralt's problem.

As for the other question: ] Word has it you need only make physical contact with me. Less of a crowd than here would be preferable.

[Only inasmuch as you make it. Louis has a dreadful feeling that he's putting his trust in things he can't rely on--but what other choice is there?]

Very well. Then let us do it in my apartment.

[Louis doesn't like the idea of inviting a stranger into his temporary home, but he doesn't have any valuables to steal at this point after he's only been in the city for a short while. Plus, if the man holds his end of the bargain, Louis will be safest if he's incapacitated behind his own locked door.

He finishes off his drink, shaking himself out gently.]

[ Inviting him right in? Bold, but he supposes no one here's made a permanent home. Doesn't really matter if he knows who lives where.

Geralt gets up to follow the deer out the door. The city's crowded, the sun casting a hazy glow on the ground. He isn't unused to the crowd, but he isn't fond of it, either. People pressing up against him constantly is not his idea of a good time. He walks just a step behind, eyeing the district as it changes, as they move from one place to another.

In the time it takes to reach the rented rooms, Geralt's said not much more than a couple of words—if he's said anything at all—though he'll offer his name if the deer chooses to exchange his own first. Once they're at the door he waits, without comment, to be let inside. ]

[Geralt guesses right. The apartment is the sort of place that is leased for a month at a time, just habitable enough for someone to put up with while they're looking for something better.

Louis does offer his name after a fashion, and accepts Geralt's in turn. Otherwise, he doesn't try to strike up conversation. As they walk together, the smell of blood on Louis gets stronger. It's coming from him, but if he's injured, he's masterfully hiding it. Once he's at the door, he unlocks it carefully. If Geralt is paying close attention, he'll notice a strand of red deer hair falls to the ground from the latch as Louis unlocks it. He's rigged his own alert system, just in case someone breaks in when he's not there.

Inside, the apartment is small and minimalist. Barely a studio, but kept in as pristine condition a tenant can keep an apartment. No pictures, no art, nothing to give a hint as to the personality of the person there besides the tight hospital corners of his made bed and a Japanese-style low table with cushions on the ground. The only thing on the table is one cup and an electric tea kettle.]

Take off your shoes, [Louis says as invitation as he takes off his own shoes. As he does, he has to brace himself against the wall, his right leg twisting oddly. The cause is made clear fast as his shoe slips off, revealing a metal 'foot' underneath and flashing the start of a prosthetic leg at the ankle. It may explain why there's the smell of blood coming from just below his knee.

He pulls socks over his flesh foot and his prosthetic foot, refusing to acknowledge the prosthetic before walking to the low table, sitting down at a cushion and gesturing for Geralt to join him.]

[ The smell of blood, always, is the first thing Geralt notices. It can mean a lot of things, can tell him a lot. He knows it's fresh, that there's more of it as they continue on, and that the deer had smelled of it even before they'd gotten up to leave, but that it's only now that the scent grows prominent. He keeps it to himself. Louis seems unbothered; he isn't here to play nurse, and if something's wrong—really wrong—he'll find out sooner rather than later. All he does is walk, as though he senses nothing at all.

His gaze flicks towards the strand of hair, then the room itself. It's foreign in its layout and decor—at least to his eyes—and there's a quirk to his eyebrow when Louis tells him to remove his boots. He takes them off, since it makes no difference to him. And, like he's suspected: he does find out. About the blood. It's curious, but it isn't the missing foot that's caught his attention. Or. It has, it's obviously worth noting, but frankly limbs can go missing here and there for any number of reasons. What's truly caught his eye is that the deer does not possess hooves. In fact, much of Louis is more human than not. If they'd been on the Continent, he'd have considered him a cursed man, but Louis seems so unaffected by his appearance Geralt can't help wondering what's behind it. If that's simply how people in his sphere exist—like a sylvan might with their horns and goat-like ears. Perhaps Louis is a faun. A different type, and more deer than goat, but one nonetheless.

Interesting.

Geralt moves inside. He's neither made himself at home nor is he ill at ease—someone who's used to entering strangers' homes on uncertain terms. He moves the cushion aside, folding his legs under him on the flat ground instead. It's just what he's used to kneeling on. If Louis is keen to observe, he'll notice that Geralt has distinctly positioned his back both away from the door and any windows. ]

When I'm in, you'll know. A touch should do. [ He pauses. What else? ] You may need concentration of your own. That part's for you to find out. And don't interrupt.

[ As in: if Louis has any further questions, he should ask them now. ]

[Louis is always observing, especially when it comes to carnivores. And this man definitely reads as a carnivore to him--no fangs, but carrying himself with the gait of someone who's been stronger than others long enough for it to seep into his being. It's the same kind of gait that any large carnivore back home would have, no matter how comfortable or uncomfortable they were with their own strength. The knowledge that you can protect yourself comes with a lot of inherent confidence.

The fact that Geralt sits so his back faces a wall doesn't escape Louis' notice, but he can hardly blame the not-human. Louis would do the same if he were coming to a stranger's house.]

What do you mean, I may need concentration? On what?

[Considering he's injured and his poorly fitted temporary prosthetic has been irritating his leg all day, he holds himself with a lot of poise.]

[ On what is not the question Geralt expected, though perhaps he should've. Geralt pauses, studying Louis. He doesn't seem a man prone towards a lack of focus. Might not be that difficult for him to pick up on it.

Still, Geralt learned from a young age. Frankly, he hasn't any concept of how hard it is for someone to attempt for the first time, without practice or experience. So far, he's noticed a few have entered the Horizon who he wouldn't expect to -- even Jaskier's made it in -- which suggests it isn't that hard. Maybe the natural connection they already have helps. ]

How skilled are deer at meditation?

Meditation? [He arches a brow.] Depends on the deer. I can't say I've ever tried it myself, but I'm confident in my ability to learn.

[Louis is confident in his ability to learn anything if he wants it enough. It wouldn't be the first time an essential skill presented itself that he'd never even touched before, and he just fought tooth and nail to gain it. He's had to do it with reading, writing, even just speaking or walking.

Not all deer can say that. In fact, most can't. Most people can't say that. But he can.]

You'll need it to return the next time.

[ That part, Louis is on his own for. It's less learning, more doing, because the only wisdom about the process Geralt can impart is stop thinking about so fucking much. Which seems to have helped Alucard, mildly, so who knows. Maybe it is worth something.

He appears to be done taking questions, in any case. His eyes fall shut. Entering takes not long for him; there's a thread, a path, one he still isn't entirely sure what it means. It leads him in. He lands where he always does: at the front of his domain, the snow crunching beneath his boots. His appearance is virtually unchanged, save for the silver wolf head medallion that now hangs around his neck.

Being here has never felt comfortable. It's a necessity, not a place to relax. He plans on leaving as soon as Louis is in -- who he looks for now, waiting patiently for the deer to appear. Time to find out if this even works as intended. ]

Edited 2021-09-28 18:29 (UTC)

[It takes a moment for Louis to touch Geralt, to actually dive into the strange world that offers so much opportunity--but he does it.

And then it's like plunging into deep, dark water.

What comes out in the Horizon doesn't have a distinct form at first. It's like smoke, trying to pull itself together into something. First it's death with antlers, it's head a fanged deer skull. Then that image melts away again, replaced by a small faun with terribly wide eyes and a knife clutched in its hands, all the different venison cuts marked in dotted lines across his skin.

And then that image melts away too, the smoke coming together and finally relaxing into form. It settles into the flickering image of a deer in silhouetted watercolor, only his eyes distinct. He has two legs, his right leg somehow glowing with hints of bluish gray mixed up in the purples of his image.

Despite having no distinct symbol on him, he radiates Death arcana.]

Oh.

[That's all he says at first, looking at Geralt without any recognition, but without any alarm or malice either.]

Are you a wolf?

[It's asked almost impassively. For someone who just appeared without any memories, he seems pretty at ease.]

WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

Drinks

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