EVENT #15: THE NETHER - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #15 - The Nether

OOC event plotting | settings info

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After a Conclave vote earlier this month, you're prepared to accept the formal request from the Nether for your assistance. By now, you'll know who the delegates are and that the dragons have suffered an illness from the rifts that opened this summer, due to the unfortunate actions of one of your fellow Summoned. Whether or not you agree with your Conclave's majority rule, the decision has been made.

The expedition will begin on October 16 and last 10 days. If you need to return home sooner, you can activate your portal stone at any point during the trip, but there's no going back once you do.

Though mysterious, the Draconae - or daemons, as others call them - are not elusive like the Fey. Anyone who's been to Nocwich will have seen a handful of them amongst the population, and some reside in the Free Cities or the outskirts of Thorne. The only nation they aren't found in is Solvunn.

Into the Heart

Your arrival to the Nether is a frosty one. The northern island is barren, save for a thick layer of snow, a few birds, and some hardy insects. Massive skeletal remains can be seen as you walk over the ice. Every few minutes, the ground trembles. The Draconae warriors greet you at the base of the volcano, including Orion, The Warden herself. Though they appear intimidating, they're grateful you're here and will clap you heartily on the back.

Entering the Obsidian Heart requires nerves of steel, but appearances aside, the narrow walkway is sturdy. As long as you're brave, you'll make it down without a problem. The less sure-footed are encouraged to ask for a hand. If they do, they'll be assigned a Draconum warrior who will cheerfully carry them down the winding path. You can also help each other, of course! Any Summoned who are capable can carry their friends, too.

As you venture down, the oppressive heat intensifies...until suddenly it stops. The moment you reach the fiery gates, the smell of brimstone fades from the air and the temperature eases into that of a pleasant summer's day. If asked, the Draconae will tell you this is how it is - a blessing from the two remaining dragons. Without them, the air would suffocate all life within.

Although the main purpose is to aid the dragons, the Draconae will invite characters to take breaks, participate in recreational activities, and explore the Nether. They want their guests to be comfortable, especially as the Summoned have arrived to help.

Around the City

At the center of the volcano lies the Obsidian Heart, where the Draconae reside. Made of stacking homes and stone bridges that spiral downward, it's a wonder how anyone finds their way. There are no maps, signage, or any form of direction. Their ability to navigate appears inherent. The most dangerous beasts lurk beneath the lava, so unless you intend to go swimming, you're unlikely to run into anything aggressive.

Doors and furniture are heavy and are made of iron, bronze, or steel. You might need to push or pull furnishings and doors with both hands and extra effort. Luckily, citizens are happy to help - as long as you ask. If you don't, they won't interfere out of respect for your autonomy. In fact, if they see you huffing and puffing, they might stop to watch and will sincerely cheer for you should you accomplish your objective by yourself.

Watch your sticky fingers. While petty theft is a minor offence in other places, the Draconae are highly protective of their belongings and treasures. Hands and heads have been lost over stolen trinkets.

The Hieran Wing

As a guest, you'll be invited to stay at the Hieran Wing. Named after Hierus, the oldest living dragon, the Hieran Wing is located in the eastern section of the Citadel. The rest of the Citadel is under heavy guard and inaccessible.

◎ The rooms are carved into the stone itself. Bedding is comfortable, if simple, with room to store your belongings. A curved stairwell grants you privacy even though many rooms have curtains rather than doors. The few rooms that have doors contain no locks. Your safety is assured, but if you're nervous, you can ask for a guard to watch you at night.

◎ The dining area consists of open-fire grills, pots, and raw ingredients - including spices and fiery hot peppers. As great believers in self-sufficiency, the Draconae will leave you to make meals to your taste and liking. You can hunt and fish your meat, as well. There are numerous lava pools where one can net jumbo shrimp, crabs, and flaming fish. For larger game, you can go after the Erymaes Boar or Petran Bison. Feel free to share your catch with your friends or offer to cook for the culinarily challenged.

◎ The library contains only fiction. You'll recognize several titles from your faction or Nocwich, suggesting they've brought back their favorite stories to read. Other titles are new, written by the Draconae. Novels and poetry span all genres, but the most common ones seem to be adventure, horror, and erotic romance - some of which contain surprisingly detailed illustrations.

Magma Pools

Outside the Hieran Wing, unusual cerulean magma pools are provided for bathing. Despite how they look, temperatures are equivalent to that of a steaming hot spring. The magma bubbles naturally from within the volcano and provides soothing effects. No soap or cleaning agents are required. These magma pools contain tiny frogs that leap and jump around. The Draconae consider them a tasty live snack. Don't be surprised if you see a local munching on them.

The Foundry

The Foundry has expanded over the past two centuries. A marketplace now circles the ancient forge. Observing the tradespeople inside and their secrets are off-limits. However, you can browse a selection of tools, clothes, accessories, and potions. Healing potions are common due to the Draconae's lack of healing magic.

You'll have the chance to request custom-made jewelry and purchase glass ornaments that are blown for you on the spot. Merchants won't sell the large weapons on display, but daggers and other small weapons are available. They'll also modify any pieces you own by adding jewels, altering the fit, or repairing nicks and faults...for a price. The Draconae deal in Abraxan currency if you have any, but they'll accept a vial or two of blood or saliva as payment.

Negotiations & Meetings (Rank 5+)

The first order of business is to present your Conclave's terms to the Inner Sanctum, the Draconae's governing body. If you've been voted as a delegate, you'll be greeted by the NPC meeting you (and your partner, if you have one). If you haven't been selected, you can still speak to some of the NPCs available.

A Place at the Table

Negotiations will take place in The Solar on the second day, a hall lit with a fiery orb of light. This is where the Inner Sanctum conducts all of its business. Tightly guarded, you're the first outsiders allowed inside in centuries. Here, you'll have the chance to present your terms and convince the Draconae to accept. You'll also have the first day of your arrival to gather a few details about the NPC you'll be meeting.

Only one meeting is required. The Nether will give you their final answer the following day.

Be sure to reply with the terms before starting the thread. Mods will approve or ask for revisions, so try to submit your points by OCTOBER 17.

Once approved, please TAG IN with your character under the correct faction heading.

Meeting the Inner Sanctum

Members of the Inner Sanctum who are not involved in diplomatic affairs are Aster, The Guardian and Anneth, The Flame. Additional descriptions about the two NPCs and where they can be found will be in their character comments below.

Characters who are Rank 5+ (negative or positive) and who are not acting as delegates can speak with one of the two NPCs above.

To do so, TAG IN with your character under the NPC you want to meet.

Runaway at Pyritean's Rack

Abraxan outsiders will whisper that Pyritean's Rack is a nefarious torture device created by the Draconae for their victims. This is true if the victim in question is delicious meat. The Rack, in other words, is a giant cooking area filled with grilling racks and pits. Shelves of ingredients and spices line the perimeter. Its most striking feature is the primary heat source, which uses magma rather than fire. Ingredients and meat unique to the Nether result in dishes and flavors not found elsewhere. Hot peppers are a popular feature.

The Draconae cook and share their food each night at the Rack. The station is always occupied. Locals take turns hunting and fishing, preparing ingredients, and cooking. Consequently, food is provided without cost. You only need to lend a hand.

Not everything goes smoothly, though. An escaped hatchling has infiltrated the Rack, and Khloris, the baby dragon, is eager to snatch and steal food throughout the week.

Earning the Torch

Impromptu competitions are frequent. They usually begin when one cook sees another outdoing them and makes a challenge. You can either issue a challenge or receive a challenge. Challenges can be between you and the natives, or you can face off with another Summoned. Judging is done by the crowd, which can be chaotic.

Not to worry! There's no downside to losing except your pride. Though the competition can grow fierce and heated in the moment - including vulgar insults and much jeering - once all is said and done, there are no grudges when the food hits the table. Sore losers are looked down on as being thin-skinned.

Winners will receive a jar of spice mix or marinating sauce from one of the many talented cooks. We won't be modding this aspect, so just be realistic with your character's cooking skills. Be sure to work things out with your thread partner if the competition involves another player character!

Escaped Hatchling

One young dragon has escaped its sanctuary at Dragon's Glass. Curious, it's drawn to the smell of food at Pyritean's Rack. As a result, it's disrupting competitions, breaking equipment, and stealing ingredients or even chunks of meat off people's plates. Desperate to get the dragon back before it causes more trouble - or worse, injures itself - the Draconae have asked you to catch the hatchling.

Of course, you'll need to contend with the dragon's unique abilities.

Khloris, the runaway in question, leaves behind small patches of grass. Its pollen dust coats nearly everything it goes near. When eaten or touched, the pollen causes flowers to sprout in your hair for a day or two. It can't fly far or very high, but it's prone to swooping down to snatch meat off the grill. The Flame informs you the dragon can be lured with gold trinkets or bright colors like red and yellow.

To see if your character can catch the dragon, submit for a roll HERE. Submissions will close October 18 at 11:59 ET. Results will be posted on October 19 so players can account for their success or failure.

Ailing Dragons

The two ailing dragons are Hierus, the Obsidian Drake, and Kruos, the Glass Serpent. Mated to each other, they're the only remaining adult dragons in the Nether and have been for decades. When you visit them at Dragon's Glass, their condition is worrisome. The dragons' scales have lost their luster and are grown over with painful white patches. They appear lethargic.

Those researching can offer the dragons healing potions or ointment to aid their symptoms while a cure is worked on. If you're not much of a healer or a scientist, you can feed them or simply spend time with them. The dragons are intelligent and appear capable of understanding you, though they can't communicate directly.

Characters have 3 avenues of participation, depending on their interests and strengths: gathering ingredients, researching the cure, and looking after the baby dragons and eggs. They'll have time to do all three throughout the 10-day excursion.

Finding a Cure

At first, you aren't sure where or how to start. The Draconae suggest the Ashlands may be a place to explore. It's dangerous, they warn, but they have a potion that'll help keep you safe. Due to the hazards, you're told not to go alone. As you travel through the deadened land, you notice an odd phenomenon: where you walk, the air around you clears, and the ground beneath your feet springs to life. You realize you don't need the potion to protect you.

The changes are temporary, fading behind you as you walk. Curiously, the effect you exhibit is similar to what the Draconae claim their dragons are capable of - though to a much smaller degree. Still, you have to wonder if you and the dragons share a similar magical connection to the Singularity. You can't help but notice that those of you who regularly interact with the Horizon and have been doing so for a while seem to affect your environment more. Your aura may be a little larger and the vicinity restored around you lasts a bit longer rather than melting away immediately - maybe even up to a minute or two.

Restoration and Gathering

Your ability to restore the land has unlocked a vital element. Ingredients once thought lost can now be gathered by the Summoned such as yourself, and they may hold the key to curing the dragons. Bring back these ingredients to your peers waiting at Dragon's Glass. The more you gather, the more they'll be able to research and experiment, so don't be shy about making multiple trips.

There are three sections for you to explore. Each one has its dangers and a specific ingredient to collect.

Due to its circumstances, Aetherie is only available on Day 9 of the event, shortly before the cure is finalized. The Draconae will seal the area once more when they realize what's happening. Cinder's Core and Featherhive are open for the full duration of the event.

◎ Cinder's Core

Filled with petrified trees and fossilized bones, the area that restores around you demonstrates its previous life as a flourishing rainforest: the humidity grows, the grass turns lush, and tropical flowers sprout under your fingertips. Although its sulfuric air won't affect you, you'll need to brave dangerous heights to reach the tops of trees and dried-up waterfall cliffs to retrieve the kydros fruit. The fruit smells like citrus and is surprisingly light despite its size.

Vines brought back to life can help you climb, forming ropes for you to climb and bridges that weave beneath your feet. They'll wither once more behind you, so you'll want to move quickly to avoid losing your footing. Height isn't the only danger - the ground below is littered with sharp skeletal protrusions and jagged trees. Beware of dangerous thorn bushes that will come to life in your presence and try to crush you in their spiny embrace as you ascend.

◎ Featherhive

The air here is too toxic for the Draconae to breathe in for long. Luckily you're unaffected. Scattered across the ground are the remaining husks of birds' nests. A dragon's skeleton curls under a rocky overhang. Use your restorative ability to journey deep into Featherhive's heart. Pushing aside the thick overgrowth reveals a small clearing covered in bright crystals for you to harvest.

Although Featherhive poses no physical danger, the land is haunted by shadow birds, ethereal spirits connected to the dragons - and you. As you pass through, they flutter around you and parrot familiar lines to each other. Their movements are jerky and strange. Quickly, you realize the birds are mimicking your memories. They might replicate an entire scene or echo a phrase or two that's plagued you all your life. Or, if you're lucky, they're merely repeating your grocery list. Shooing them will cause them to dissipate into smoke, but they'll soon return.

◎ Aetherie

The loss of a dragon released a noxious gas through this village without warning. Escaping villagers were forced to leave behind those they could not save and seal the doors. The Oblivion is a painful moment in history for many, and none have set foot near the area since. Near the end of your stay, the Draconae request you use your ability to venture where they can't and gather Anoix pods, powerful healing seeds from a plant that only grew in Aetherie. They believe the abandoned huts will contain pouches of the pods on shelves and cabinets.

Entering the village, you expect a tragic scene of corpses. Instead, you find something far worse. The dead have mutated into grotesque arachnids, limbs fused to bulbous abdomens. They show no signs of recognition or awareness and attack you on sight. Hidden in the depths of the purple haze, rat-sized spiders scurry forth. Their venom causes painful sores that will fester and spread if left untreated. Multiple bites may result in temporary blindness or paralysis of a limb. Luckily, this will clear up within 24 hours to a few days, depending on the severity.

Grab the pods if you can or flee if you're overwhelmed. When word reaches The Warden, she'll rapidly send her people to reseal the abandoned village and come to aid any who need it. If you're injured, The Flame and her apprentices will tend to you at Dragon's Glass.

Research and Magic

Dragon's Glass is a glass-domed temple said to be forged from the fires of Kruos. It's located in the Spiral, which is outside the Obsidian Heart. Here, the two remaining dragons reside while ill, along with their clutch of eggs and a few precious hatchlings.

Anneth, The Flame, will invite you into the temple's alchemy labs, where you can apply your skills and knowledge to create the healing elixir that cures the dragons. Doing so requires you to experiment with key ingredients found in the Ashlands. You'll have access to basic alchemy books and apprentices at the temple. Use any additional tools, supplies, and knowledge you possess, and take advantage of the resources donated by the factions.

How you approach your research is up to you, but each ingredient comes with a set of risks - so be careful while you work!

◎ The kydros fruit contains seeds that will explode when heated, causing a chain reaction like popped popcorn. The explosions aren't large, but they might scorch your supplies. Crushing them in the open air results in a similar chemical reaction. However, soaking them in water makes them soften into mush, allowing you to turn the seeds into a paste that could be useful. The fruit is similar to grapefruit and is excellent for a sore throat.

◎ The crystals come in three colors: red, blue, and black. Extended contact will dye your skin that color. The stains are extraordinarily stubborn, so your clothes may not recover. These crystals resonate with a strange hum that suggests they respond well to magic spells. Combining them with a liquid will give off a foul-smelling smoke, so you may need to find ways to neutralize the stench before combining it into an elixir.

◎ The Anoix pods must be used sparingly, as no more can be gathered from Aetherie. They possess strong healing properties, but each pod is very delicate and must be split open with care so as not to damage the soft seeds inside. In addition to researching the cure, you can also attempt to help the Dracaone grow new Anoix plants using the preserved seeds.

The final cure will use all 3 key ingredients. Don't worry too much about continuity! As long as your character participated, you can assume they made a valuable contribution.

However, to assist with coordination, we've provided a RESEARCH DISCOVERY section where you can present any findings your character would share with others in-game.

Hatchlings and Eggs

While curing the adult dragons is a priority, the hatchlings and eggs aren't to be neglected. Baby dragons are active troublemakers, and without their parents to keep them in line, they've become especially unruly. The apprentices at the temple can only do so much. The Keeper has even made rare appearances in Dragon's Glass to lend his assistance.

Meanwhile, the eggs are beginning to show signs of affliction. The shells are beginning to weaken, and the feathery growths appearing on them will suffocate the hatchling inside if left untreated.

Babysitting the Dragons

If you have a spare moment, you can look after the baby dragons. Keep them out of trouble by reading their favorite stories, singing songs, and playing with them. They'll also need to be fed, watered, and their bedding changed or fluffed. The hatchlings are mischievous but friendly. They're eager to bond with the Summoned for reasons unexplained, as if they feel something resonating within you.

Many are attracted to shiny objects and bright colors and will attempt to steal them. Conversely, they might gift you a trinket that they've pilfered from someone else. The local Draconae would appreciate it if you returned any missing tools or jewels.

Hatchlings you'll encounter in Dragon's Glass are:

◎ Okenus spouts water instead of flame. Bearing fins instead of wings, this sea dragon is vital to bringing lakes and rivers back to the Nether. Currently, it can only make tiny puddles and rainclouds. Watch that your belongings don't get wet. Standing near the dragon might cause a small storm cloud to spawn over you and rain down on your head. A simple spell will make the cloud disappear, but if you don't have any magic, you might have to bring an umbrella.

◎ Epeius can form miniature gusts of wind beneath its wings, but it doesn't have firm control and frequently spawns them when excited. These small dust devils and whirlwinds will follow you around. Though they aren't powerful, they can be a nuisance, knocking over cups, blowing away hats, and sending papers flying. The other hatchlings will find your misfortune a source of amusement.

◎ Ledas can help salt deposits form in the shape of large salt crystals. Salt is important to the Draconae, which the hatchling is aware of and thus takes great pride in its abilities. The crystals can be eaten as is or crushed into granules. Ledas will strive to impress you with the largest crystals that it can make...which occasionally results in the structure collapsing, littering the ground with salt. You might find yourself sweeping often around this dragon, but at least you'll never be short on seasoning.

◎ Anthusa is a very special hatchling that creates bioluminescent algae. The algae grow on its scales, forming a symbiotic relationship. Unfortunately, without a proper habitat for this algae in the Nether, its glow has dimmed in recent years and the hatchling has become languid and sickly despite its youth. Nonetheless, Anthusa is friendly and curious even if it struggles to keep up with its siblings. You can help Anthusa play by lifting it to heights it can't reach, and carrying it back when the dragon is too tired to walk.

Weakened Eggs

As noted, the eggs demonstrate signs of suffering, too. Three eggs are waiting to be hatched. Whether all of the eggs survive is dependent on the decision that each faction Conclave made regarding resources found, as well as the help provided by you and your fellow Summoned.

The eggs can't be cured until the dragons are cured, but you can help slow the growths by gently scraping them off and wiping the eggs regularly with a clean cloth. They must also be kept heated, so check the magma frequently and refill any magma basins. The growths can be donated to those researching for additional study if you wish.

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Comments

[gynvael]

[ First Sam, then Nero, then Jaskier, now Dean. Why is it that every soul he befriends can invariably take flight?

He doesn't answer while he scales up the next ridge. Not because he's concentrating but because he needs a moment to absorb how they even got to the subject in the first place. It's probably (absolutely) Dean's fault. He's learning more about this...stick than he is about Rome. He's also learning several things about Dean in the process. ]

You realize I don't hail from a place with running water. [ They have running water here, in Cadens, and it's been a blessing he hadn't known he was missing. Not having to haul and heat water one bucket at a time used to be a privilege granted only to mages and those wealthy enough to pay someone to do the work.

He digs his fingers into a rocky crevice, but as he starts to pull himself up, a sharp pain shoots through his leg. He curses, grip loosening on instinct—and slips entirely. ]

[righteously]

( Why is it everybody he befriends can fly? Maybe Geralt just has a thing for angels. Dean can relate. But never mind about angels or butt sponges — although, it feels necessary to say that those two topics are completely unrelated.

No running water makes his mouth scrunch up in disgust, and he gives Geralt a scrutinizing once-over, as though re-assessing whether or not he's gross. It's the fact that he's playing attention right at that moment and not glancing around like a bored teenager that allows him to react in time, so in a way, those stupid sponges actually saved the day. Rome wins again. )

Oh, shit-

( And the fact that Geralt would be absolutely fine and could totally probably handle a fall like this with only maybe a broken bone or two doesn't cross his mind. He's in immediate Mom-mode, like when someone in the car in front of you slams the brakes too hard so you stretch an arm out to seat-belt your buddy in the passenger's seat.

He dives, a rapid-fire descent toward the ground that would normally make him piss himself, but his focus isn't on the swiftly approaching jagged rocks. It's on Geralt's forearm, which he clasps quickly and grips, wingspan spreading, to slow and then reverse their descent.

He doesn't so much set Geralt down as he inelegantly sends them both sprawling back onto the top of the cliff. Look, he's not a graceful flier, and this blonde son of a bitch is heavy. )

[gynvael]

[ Dean flaps into action so quickly, Geralt barely contemplates how he should roll to avoid snapping his ankle before he's thrown back up onto a cliff.

He slides to a stop with a grunt. The grass blooms around where they land. His shoulder aches faintly from being snatched in midair. Fuck. He sighs—a noise that carries more frustration than the situation warrants. ]

Thank you. [ Perhaps this is life telling him he should collect more friends with wings.

After a few seconds, he grabs a vine for leverage and stumbles back to his feet. He's steady, mostly; he's good at pushing past pain and it's already subsiding. But he's just a little off—and there's a sense he's trying to move on as though nothing happened. Like he didn't just fall out of nowhere when he's spent his whole fucking life climbing mountains far bigger than these cliffs. ]

[righteously]

( He takes a moment to catch his breath, one hand absently massaging his own shoulder from the sharp yank of Geralt's body weight. His you're welcome comes in the form of a nod and a half-hearted thumbs-up from his free hand.

A pained Old Man grunt later, he starts to haul himself to his feet. A couple seconds pass where he squints at Geralt, using his Brother Mode to get advantage on the Insight Check.

Yeah, something's weird. )

Okay cool, so we're just pretending like Superman didn't just get Kryptonite'd off a cliff? What happened to graceful Karate monk sex panther? You totally biffed it.

[gynvael]

[ A look comes Dean's way before Geralt assesses the path ahead. Is he surprised the hunter brought it up? Not exactly. They've known each other some time, and though he's never admitted it out loud, Dean knows him better than most.

And has always been too fucking observant. Even if those observations tend to involve phrases like sex panther. ]

I didn't— [ A pause before he decides to gloss over saying biff. ] It's nothing. I had an injury follow me.

[ Through his dreams, through the Singularity. Like the Mark had. He's long given up on determining how that's possible. The reality is undeniable. That Nadine's magic could sense something wrong means it isn't merely a phantom pain. It's real.

Hard to say if that makes it better or worse. He doesn't know how he feels about his body changing at the whim of an ancient relic. ]

[righteously]

( Dean's got, like, four and a half positive qualities. Looking after his people is one of the highest ones. Much to Geralt's eternal fatigue, he's been on that his people list for a long time now. Yeah, he's attentive to them. Perceptive to small changes, things that are off. He also... kind of lowkey thinks of Geralt like a weird, infallible badass batman type. Black Swan meets Jackie Chan. Falling down a relatively easy climb does not compute, nor does the stiffness in his walk after.

Not gonna lie, would've made him pretty friggin' happy to hear Geralt say biff, though. )

Follow you? From where? ( He's not keyed into the new dream shenanigans situation, and his mind doesn't go there immediately. It's only happened to him once, it's not frequent enough an occurrence to be top of mind. ) What injury?

( He's content to mindlessly follow the path Geralt leads for a few minutes while he conducts his interrogation. Probably not a bad idea, in case the guy totally biffs it again. )

[gynvael]

From home.

[ Geralt's lack of elaborating is a frequent and possibly irritating habit, though it isn't deliberate here. He's searching for what and how much he wishes to say. Besides Sam, he's said little to anybody. Nadine knows on a strictly medical basis. Jaskier spoke of it to Julie first, and he's grateful for that. He's not fond of attracting what feels like unnecessary attention over something that can't be helped. ]

I had more dreams. Or visions. Except they came with...changes. [ He glances over. ] They healed. Just bothersome on occasion.

[ Especially right now when he's climbing to get some damn fruit, and the dampness in the air keeps shifting with their magic. Perhaps the dry Cadens heat has been servicing him more than he anticipated. ]

[righteously]

( It feels incredibly obvious as soon as Geralt says it. From home; it's a phenomena that happens just often enough to forget that it's a thing, until it slaps you with a hyper-vivid dream in the middle of the night and suplexes you with consequences you never asked for. He grimaces, lips flattening into something pained and sympathetic.

It's alright that the details take a moment to come. Dean's patient when he needs to be, and in this case he knows Geralt well enough to give him a minute to elaborate.

He waits at the bottom of the next rise as Geralt begins to ascend, his arms crossing absently over his chest. )

So what- what happened? In your visions? Did you snap a leg off or something?

[gynvael]

[ Dean's remark may or may not be facetious, but it isn't far off the mark. Geralt makes a face that seems to say, Well...

He digs his fingers into a crevice and hauls himself up. Dean will probably flap up to join him eventually. He does not comment on the way Dean seems to be waiting below in case he needs to catch a Witcher again. ]

Not quite off. I broke it. [ He's been reluctant to describe exactly what he sustained with others, and there's a sense he hesitates here, too. But Dean is different. Someone who's gone through just as much shit—if not more—and come out on the other side. ] And my back. Took a while to get on my feet again.

[ The point is, he is on his feet. He's climbing, he's hunting. He's fine. He's even done his due diligence and gone to see Nadine instead of working through it alone. ]

[righteously]

( Geralt assumes correctly — he very much is waiting to make sure he doesn't have to scoop a falling witcher, and very much does indeed flap up to join him once he's firmly settled on the next ledge. He might also faintly look a little annoyingly smug about it when he touches down, too. You know, because of who he is as a person. Unrepentantly obnoxious.

That smug look doesn't last long. )

You- you broke your back? As in- like, straight up your spine? How in the hell-

( -are you up and walking around right now, except he's assuming it has something to do with how Geralt's basically Wolverine, and even if he weren't, the singularity tends to do off-brand Diet versions of injuries sometimes, which is... nice, he guesses.

So he pivots the question halfway through asking it. )

-how'd you even manage that? What were you hunting, Godzilla?

[gynvael]

[ Dean's satisfied feathery descent is met with a sigh. At least they're at the top. Geralt brushes a vine aside, moving through the living jungle that awaits. ]

I wasn't. [ Hunting, he means. ] Ciri was...

[ Wanted by the entire Continent? Started a coup and a war with her mere existence? The story is so tangled, finding a place to begin is impossible. Nor does he think Dean requires the finer details. The Brotherhood, the elves, Nilfgaard—he's left that behind. Or so he wants to believe. He supposes the shadows never quite vanish. ]

There was a mage pursuing her. I let it get out of hand. It doesn't matter. [ It matters. ] Ciri and I found each other here.

[ Perhaps anyone else would say he couldn't have known, and in a way, he understands that to be true. It still feels like his fault. His responsibility. If it isn't on him to keep her safe, then who? But it's as he said—they're together here. And he doesn't wish to waste any more time dwelling on something he can't change. What he can do is make sure it doesn't happen again. ]

[righteously]

( As they begin to pick their way through the jungle, those wings fold up and disappear. They'll do him no good in crowded or dense forest, they'll only snag on damn near everything and hold him back. It's back to the normal human way of travel for him — and damn, when did he start thinking about it like that? It sits like a splinter under his skin.

Focus on the topic at hand. )

Who's the mage?

( His tone, after nearly two years, is likely familiar to Geralt. It's the low, businesslike one that he adopts when he's serious about something, when the dumb jokes and the references and the pretense dies. He's asking, because... for whatever reason, the factions tend to bring people like that here. They pulled through Lucifer, they pulled through Michael. The odds that they pull through whatever mage is a threat to Ciri are high enough to warrant consideration, and he doesn't want to get caught in the dark on the off-chance.

He'll be more than happy to put a bullet through them if he happens upon them in his periodic trips out to the barracks on New Summoned Day. )

[gynvael]

[ His lips press thin. He knows precisely why Dean is asking. A part of him wants to avoid answering; this isn't Dean's problem nor has it become a concern in this world. Not yet. It may never be one. But he's asked Dean to look after Ciri before, and he was the one who told Dean that he was right to trust him with his burdens—the Mark, Lucifer.

After everything, it would be foolish to insist Dean not be involved. ]

His name is Vilgefortz. Ciri tells me he eventually met his end.

[ Amongst other details. His future is no longer an unknown, now that Ciri has finally filled in the years. In any case, he's ready to move past the subject. They've lingered on his troubles long enough. ]

We've more pressing matters, besides. [ He parts of the dense brush that unfurls around them. Vines snake along the ground. ] I'm not sure some fruit will salvage their losses here.

[righteously]

Voldemort?

( Okay — look, he gets that they're not dwelling on the subject. Dude probably won't ever show up, and Geralt doesn't like having the spotlight on his issues for more than about forty-five and a half seconds or whatever. He gets it, he won't push, it's just... )

What kind of a stupid name is Vagiforts?

( Yes, he heard what Geralt actually said. He will literally never pronounce it correctly for as long as he lives. It's a conscious choice. )

Dude's got a name like a topical ointment for-

( You know what, let's just stop that gross ass thought right there and focus on the task at hand. He shakes his head slowly, still contributing basically nothing to this forward venture through the plant life, fully allowing Geralt to be the one to set the path and battle the foliage. )

Whatever. I'm still not sure how great of an idea this is, anyway. The last time I had a run-in with dragons back home, they were slaughtering virgins for sport. Why are we so sure the ones here are different?

[gynvael]

[ It is for that reason that Geralt, much as with his own name, chooses not to correct Dean, who's just. Like that. He'll acknowledge it'd be helpful to catch someone he prefers dead early in their arrival. As far as he can tell, they all spend their first week or so significantly weakened.

Also—what? ] That's remarkably specific.

[ Why would a dragon...? Perhaps he shouldn't ask. Regardless, the dragons he knows are not interested in so-called pure maidens, and he suspects the Netherfolk are not hiding a taste for unsullied flesh. The only thing he's observed them do is bite the heads off of hapless frogs. Their hatchlings resemble wily kittens, and he's almost positive they're intelligent enough to understand what they're told and defiantly do the exact opposite.

Villentretenmerth might've liked them. ]

Have you seen something that concerns you?

[righteously]

( If Geralt asked, he wouldn't get a helpful answer anyway. It'd be something along the lines of, what do you mean why? that's just what they do. Much in the same way dogs do that spin around in a circle thing before they lay down, or bears hibernate for winter — it's just nature where he's from. Most monsters have a set pattern of behavior. Dragons eat virgins. That's just their nature.

Although... yeah, okay, so far he hasn't found anything that indicates that's their nature here. )

...Not yet.

( He concedes, with a faintly unhappy frown on his features. )

But I don't know if that means there's nothing to find, or if I'm just not looking hard enough.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt has a habit of not looking back when he's speaking, so Dean may or may not sense the arch of his eyebrow from the back of his head through sheer intuition.

He steps around a rapidly forming bog before he gets sucked into its depths. ]

I have no doubt, if you search, you will find the stains you're looking for. But I'm not sure we should let the wolf who mauled a shepherd consign its pack to the same grave.

[ Considering the similarities that've started to arise between the dragons and the Summoned, a part of him thinks they have more in common with each other than they do with the rest of human natives. Connected to the land and the world's magic in a way most others are not, with abilities that too many might seek for their own gain. The Draconae have never stated, clearly, whether the dragons can shape the earth beyond the Nether itself—and he imagines that's for a reason. ]

[righteously]

( Dean, focused as he is on the back of Geralt's head, does not notice the bog until he's already almost ankle-deep in it. He curses, tugging his boot out with a gross squelch. A few long seconds are spent unhappily muttering under his breath at how gross this place is, shaking his ankle off into the rapidly-reborn underbrush.

Stupid dragon swamp.

Some annoyance lingers faintly in his tone when he finally gets around to answering. It fades out into a little more theatrical, good-natured mocking by the time he gets to reciting the verse itself. )

That's some real pretty poetry there, Robert Frost. You pen that yourself? The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

( Feels like a pretty apt one for the moment, considering how balls deep they are in the jungle. Or maybe the Road Not Taken would be better.

Don't judge him. He reads, okay.

Time to throw out a carefully neutral observation: )

You seem pretty optimistic about them.

[gynvael]

[ He has the good graces to wait for Dean to free himself, though he mostly just. Stands there with his arms folded. He'd help if the man were sinking, but he's not. A slight curl to his lips suggests he is notably entertained after all the flapping ahead of him Dean's been doing.

He gives a quiet huff once Dean's foot comes loose and continues on. It probably could be something he penned himself, though they're both sitting in glass houses here where poetry is concerned. He'd be surprised Dean's reciting from heart, but. He's heard the man recite multiple songs the same way. (With more enthusiasm.) ]

Something Nenneke said, when I told her I didn't see why we should give a shit about saving humans after they killed most of my kind. I'm not optimistic. [ He finally glances over his shoulder at Dean. ] And I don't believe you were optimistic, either, when you chose to befriend a Witcher. I think you saw something you don't always let yourself see.

[ He's no longer certain whether Dean is referring to the Netherfolk or the dragons, but to Geralt, the apparent symbiotic relationship Anneth hinted at makes them one and the same. He knows what it is to look at your people and realize none of you will outlast the century. That when you and your yours are gone, the world will say you had it coming—if they remember you at all. ]

[righteously]

( I didn't see why we should give a shit about saving humans after they killed most of my kind.

That prompts a quietness to fall over him, the teasing slipping away and his countenance becoming a little more contemplative. He sometimes forgets — or maybe forgetting isn't the right word for it. He doesn't think about it, maybe, is the more correct way of saying it — the horror of Geralt's past. The things that humanity has done to him. That people are responsible for.

He's learned a lot, over the last ten or fifteen years. Grown a lot, from the man his father raised him to be. Some mindsets are so ingrained they're hard to completely shake, even though he's tried and has proven himself willing to understand. It's not a conscious choice for his first instinct to be wariness, to think of humanity as a potential victim first and foremost.

He knows better rationally and logically, he does, he really does know. It's just- difficult. It takes constant deliberate thought to battle that mindset, and it doesn't always occur to him immediately to try. He's better than he was, but not as good as he should be. It's hard not to feel knee-jerk defensive about that, hard to swallow it down and just let himself acknowledge the ways in which he's wrong.

But he doesn't have a problem with pride, or with ego, and so he does, after a beat. He can make room in his mind for both concern and openness, even if he doesn't relish the internal conflict. His ability to do that is probably why Geralt can stand to be friends with him at all. )

It's different. ( He says, and it's not an argument exactly. He doesn't sound like he's altogether carrying too much conviction about the assertion. It's just- ) I've never seen a Witcher eat people. Besides, I got a pretty good idea of what you're capable of. These things? Who knows what they could do if they decided they had a bone to pick with us. They could level a city. I'm still not sure I wanna be held responsible for that.

[gynvael]

[ He can usually sense when Dean's thoughts are brewing, and Geralt lets him take his time. He's not planning to change Dean's mind. Dean is right that if he thought he had to, he wouldn't be here in the first place. But the natural hesitance is something he can understand; he remembers Istredd asking, Is that when your dislike of mages began?, and he cannot deny that his first instinct is to be wary of the sorcerers and sorceresses who wander the Continent and its courts. It's too ingrained in his history.

He doesn't note that it makes no difference whether it's by teeth or sword; someone winds up dead, and every Witcher has his share of bodies. That isn't the point. This isn't the first time Dean's mentioned being held responsible, and the more he's come to know his friend, the more he begins to grasp the root of that fear.

He supposes the world feels different when your name has been etched in prophecies. ]

They could, [ he replies mildly. So could many people. Thorne actually has levelled a city. ] And if that happens, it'll fall on my shoulders as much as yours. [ They've all made the choice to be here. He reaches deep into the brush, emerging with one of the rounded melons. ] Until then, we came to save a few lives. Not to look for a reason to take them.

[righteously]

( It probably shouldn't make that much of a difference, but strangely, it does; Geralt saying it'll fall on my shoulders as much as yours. The thought of sharing that responsibility, should it come to it, does something for him. Helps the imagined weight of it feel a little less heavy, even though it's purely hypothetical, even though it doesn't really mean anything or change anything, strangely, the sentiment is enough to get him to relax. Geralt has strong shoulders. Dean's are tired. If it has to be carried, it's easier with two.

And so, after a beat, he nods, lips pressed together in something akin to resignation. )

Yeah, yeah, I hear you. I'm here, aren't I?

( Despite his reservations and concerns, despite voicing them now, he's already doing it. Some part of him already had the instinct that this was the right call, or else he wouldn't be here climbing the jungle shrubs and hunting down magic dragon cure nuts or whatever the hell it is they're looking for.

And then, after a beat, apropos of entirely nothing and with sudden enthusiasm: )

Hey, did your boyfriend tell you he bird-attacked me in the desert the other day? Totally dive-bombed me like a freakin' feathered lunatic.

[gynvael]

[ The noise he makes is one of acknowledgement. Dean is here; Geralt understands that, too. The open reluctance, yet being there, anyhow. Jaskier had seen that in him a long time ago, and he's been around enough people akin to himself that he gets that it means more than what's actually said.

Speaking of Jaskier. He glances over, a wrinkle between his forehead. Then he gives a huff. ]

His birds are the size of grapes. [ All right, slightly larger, but his point stands. He assumes Dean didn't sustain any significant damage from the attack. ] Did you insult his music?

[ Or was this a long-born grudge from further back? A lot has happened since Dean's turn as a demon. It's not quite where his mind leaps. As far he knows, he encouraged Nadine several weeks ago to tell Jaskier what actually occurred between them, then decided that was as far as he was going to interfere and asked no more about it. ]

[righteously]

( He pulls a face at the size of grapes. It takes real, actual self-control not to go on a tangent about grape size, and how either Geralt's world has deeply absurd grapes, or Geralt's sense of proportion is way less flattering than it rightfully should be on a very personal level. Thankfully, that entire uncomfortable train of thought is promptly derailed by the question. )

Hell no. First of all, I'm not suicidal. ( And Jaskier would probably apparate into his bedchamber in the middle of the night to slit his throat while he slept if Dean dared openly bash his livelihood. ) Second of all, why would I? His music slaps. You know, for like... medieval hipster folk rock.

( He stops Geralt with a sudden hand on his arm, and points threateningly. )

Never, ever tell Sam I said that.

( But anyway. Back on track. His hand falls away, and they carry on trudging forth. He absently plucks up a dragon papaya, shoving it in his bag thoughtlessly. )

No, it was over Nadine, actually.

[gynvael]

[ The reality is, Geralt has an unflattering sense of proportion when it comes to Jaskier, specifically—in particular when Jaskier has transformed into one of his ridiculously tiny birds.

His lips twitch. ] I'll pass it on immediately.

[ But. Mm. Nadine. He grows quieter at that. It's been some months, but wounds of that nature take a long time to heal. But he also knows Jaskier well. He's let go of things that have taken Geralt much longer to do so. ]

He'll forgive you. [ He carries his one dragon fruit, lifting a thicket of jungle leaves for Dean to pluck another. ] He and Yen were at each other's throats once. After she threatened to kill him.

[ Now they're drinking wine and gossiping. And bedding each other, apparently, but they hadn't needed to like one another for that to take place. ]