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abraxaslogs2021-08-28 09:41 pm
abraxasmods) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-08-28 09:41 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- !npc,
- alina starkov; the hanged man,
- amos burton; the lovers,
- cirilla of cintra; the devil,
- coraline finch; the tower,
- estinien wyrmblood; the hermit,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- gideon nav; strength,
- hector; the magician,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- jaskier; the sun,
- jon sims; the high priestess,
- jon snow; the emperor,
- kiryu kazuma; the tower,
- sam wilson; justice
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.
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.
no subject
[He couldn't help but smirk, well aware of how this sounded. He dismissed it too, until he was forced to confront it at the Wall. He had to wonder if it was a relief to face simple monsters, not something like...whatever the Others were. They weren't snarks or grumperkins, but more dangerous. Like death walking.]
They're the final battle between life and death. [Again, an insane notion, but one that he knows is true and won't be shaken from that.] I saw their full force at Hardhome, a Freefolk village. Thousands of dead threw themselves from a cliff and got to their feet and charged at the men, women and children. Those killed were raised effortlessly, doubling the Night King's army. Nothing could stop them, nothing slowed them. They are death and bring death.
no subject
[ Too many tales that don't mean anything, obscuring reality. And to Geralt, stripped of its language of prophecy and doom, what Jon describes simply sounds like reanimation on a vast scale. Not monsters, exactly, but magic. Something close to what Hector is capable of. It's necromancy but not in the way of raising the dead back into life. Rather, it's turning them into another beast altogether.
He hums, thoughtful. Witchers do not take contracts upon entire armies of the magically animated undead. That's past the scope of what he does. ] You'd need a mage or two to counteract magic that powerful.
[ However mages and druids might operate in Jon's world. It's all distant theory, anyhow. Jon's here, so walking corpses and Night Kings, much like Nilfgaard's marching army, will have to wait. They have more immediate concerns. ]
no subject
[His fault, something else that didn't sit well with him. Now the enemy had one too and they were more outnumbered than before.] The further south they go, the more numbers they collect. [He rubbed his eyes, aging before Geralt's eyes. This had taxed on him for so long, he felt as old as Maester Aemon.]
It does me no good being here. The war is coming and I'm here. My family, my home...they're facing destruction and the mages brought me here.
no subject
[ At least in his world, they're rare and sentient creatures who keep to themselves. Hunted nearly to extinction for little more than fear and greed. Perhaps they're different in Jon's world. He does recall the one he saw circling over Jon's domain, back before. It's gone now, he's noticed, much in the same way Geralt's log cabin is gone.
His eyes linger on Jon for a moment. He's not unsympathetic. War is equally marching over the Continent. But then, isn't it always, someplace, somewhere? ] War's coming here, too.
[ That much, he knows. Maybe not now, maybe not in a year, maybe neither of them will even be here to witness it. But all this, the Singularity, the brewing tensions—he's seen the signs too often to ignore them. ]
no subject
[It's not easy to talk about Daenerys. He doesn't say her name for the mere fact that it would sting his heart. He can only reference her in passing, mitigating some of the misery. But even still in these vague terms, he can't hide how much he admires the woman.]
Yours too? Magical?
[It felt odd to say it that way, but what else could he say? Magic was now a key component in the war to come.]