January Tier 2 Quest ✨ CLOSED

[soothsighs]

Who: Urianger and Thancred
When: Early January
Where: Nocwich
What: Dealing with contaminated remains post-island
Warnings: Death, dead bodies, grieving

Selfishly, Urianger wishes there were somewhere else that this work could be done. Nocwich has thus far been something of a safe haven away from his troubles: he looks forward to his monthly visits as a break from the politcs and intrigue of Thorne, and considers it somehow ... separate, he supposes, from his day to day dealing. He knows that compartmentalising in such a way isn't necessarily helpful in the long term — and it seems that now, in the aftermath of their trip to the island, he's finally being made to face the consequences.

His expression is one of calm stoicism as he approaches the tents that keep the dead and their effects. It's comforting to know that Thancred is by his side; it makes the whole process more bearable in a way he hadn't quite anticipated, if he's truly honest, and for all he'd felt himself falling back on the kneejerk of doing it alone?

Urianger is glad to know that he's here with someone that he trusts.

The pair are guided through to the tents to where the wagons are being loaded up with carefully wrapped bodies. The stench is stomach-churning — Urianger has yet to grow used to it in such concentration — and he presses his lips into a thin line as he looks on as the contaminated bodies are stacked one on top of the other. A frow creases his brow:

"It is unfortunate that Luna has not the resources to transport them in smaller numbers. I fear grouping them like this may invite a more catastrophic result, should aught go awry."

But his voice is low; it's just an observational comment for Thancred, nothing more.

Comments

[soothsighs]

Urianger chuckles at Thancred's expression as he plays along, lifting his hand in a calming gesture:

"Peace, Thancred. Thou art the first and foremost in my life, as always," he teases, pleased that they've managed to settle into their usual back and forth even in the face of their unpleasant task. "Geralt and Astarion, however, make for fine additions to mine ever-growing collection."

Urianger looks thoughtful for a moment.

"The former has been most kind in lending an ear to my insecurities. As I am certain thou art aware, at times it can be most constructive to hear from an impartial party on matters close to the heart."

[funbreaker]

Thancred responds with a firm nod. He very well should be first after all that they've been through, and to be honest, he could hardly imagine Urianger ever replacing him. Either way, it's all just some good-natured teasing.

"Astarion I don't believe I've met, but... Geralt was the one who helped you?"

Interesting. Thancred wouldn't have thought that Geralt would have the patience for that sort of thing, but then again, his blunt way of stating things as they are might have been helpful for someone like Urianger, who tends to overthink.

"And what did he tell you? If you're willing to share such matters of the heart."

The wagon continues to trundle along, and the two werewolves with them seem content to let them chat amongst themselves as they make the journey.

[soothsighs]

A private smile touches Urianger's lips as he lifts his gaze to the snowy landscape — not too dissimilar from the weather he'd experienced in Geralt's domain, actually. All of a sudden he finds himself acutely aware of the lack of roaring fire and warming ale that was offered to him in Kaer Morhen, and he tucks the blanket over his lap a little more tightly for it.

"In no uncertain terms, he told me to cease my wallowing and get over myself," he replies lightly, an amused quirk touching the corners of his lips. "'Twas a little difficult to hear at the time, but ... I understand why he said what he did."

Urianger nudges Thancred with an elbow.

"In many ways he is most like thee, wouldst thou not agree?"

And so their journey continues on, their amiable banter drawing only the occasional glance from their werewolf guides. All seems to be progressing well enough — or rather, it progresses well enough until their band reaches a massive blockage in the road. The wild winter weather has hurled all manner of debris into their path: normally Urianger might have hope of perseverance, but after counting more than two felled trees ...

"Might we circumvent this stretch of road by some other route?"

Xander turns back expectantly, as though he knows what Lucia is about to say, but she holds off for a moment as her expression turns grim.

"... We'll have to travel across the lake. It's frozen solid during this time of year, but obviously such a crossing wouldn't be without risk."

Urianger glances towards Thancred before offering a quick nod. If there's no other way, then there's no other way, and the Luna werewolves seem nothing if not eminently practical.

"By lake, then. May the Twelve protect us."

[funbreaker]

"I like to think I would have been a bit nicer about it than that," Thancred replies with a put-upon expression as Urianger nudges him. While he isn't above some tough love when the situation calls for it, he would like to think he's not quite so gruff and blunt as Geralt.

Still, it seems like for better or worse, Geralt's words were perhaps what Urianger needed to hear at the time. And it may have been easier to hear them from someone not quite so close to him as Thancred himself.

Their journey continues on until they hit a snag, and yet Thancred would frankly have been more shocked if it had all unfolded without incident. When they reach the blockage some thought is put to how long it might take to clear the path, but it quickly becomes apparent that it would add precious time to their journey, meaning that they would have little chance of staying ahead of nightfall.

When another option is offered, one that Xander and Lucia share with them uncertainly, Thancred meets Urianger's gaze. A frozen lake is not to be underestimated, though it seems all of them understand the risk.

"We'll aim to cross as quickly as we can, then, without putting ourselves at greater risk." The longer the weight of the wagon sits on the ice, the more likely that it will buckle under them, and so they will need to be swift.

With that, the wagon turns down a less traversed path, the snow hardly cleared from the trail, but the horses and the wagon wheels push through until they reach the lake. At a first glance it's rather eye-catching, the sun sparkling off of the loch's surface, frozen solid. Yet Thancred can not fully appreciate its beauty when he knows how dangerous this path might become.

He turns to Urianger once more. "Are you ready for this?"