EVENT #19: OVERTHROW - IC EVENT LOG

[abraxasmods]

Event #19 - Overthrow

OOC Event Log ⦁ IC Exchanges ⦁ NPCs

It starts at midnight in Castle Thorne. The date is JUNE 16. You might be asleep, but if you're a night owl, you might not sense much. The air is calm in the North Wing. Deep behind closed doors, however, events are afoot.

The Prologue below will contain some narrative details to contextualize the event. A summary will be provided for players who want to quickly scan what's happening, but if you wish to experience the full narrative first, you can save the summary until afterward.

Prologue

Roughly 1000 years ago, the Galdwin family ascended to the throne in the Kingdom of Thorne after the fall of the Almach family. Since then, the Galdwins have ruled with little opposition. As the sole remaining heir, Ellya Galdwin inherited the kingdom from her father and married Brydan, who ruled alongside her. They have no heirs of their own.

Rudolph Sidwell married into the Galdwin family via Queen Ellya's aunt, though he retained his family name and naval rank for his title due to his military career. After his first wife passed away from illness, he remarried Lady Lia Sidwell. They have two young sons, the eldest of whom carries the royal bloodline from Rudolph's first marriage. A few rumors contend otherwise, but Rudolph is known to be close with Ellya, and thus many are reluctant to be too critical.

Last winter, Rudolph was promoted to Admiral. He's made more frequent appearances in Castle Thorne lately, the most recent of which occurred when the Summoned were taken to the Singularity's crater. Currently, his wife and children are temporarily residing in a manor in the city.

Queen Ellya's rule up to this point has not been without contention. Many of the original Summoned were imprisoned while under her rule. She was responsible for conducting secret experiments on one such prisoner, had another kidnapped and tortured, and decimated Libertas in the Free Cities, an act taken in haste and anger that has lent doubt to her stability as a ruler. However, she has successfully maintained the kingdom's strength and economy, as well as its naval force...the latter of which the Admiral would say is his doing.

Midnight, June 16 - Kingdom of Thorne

◎ East Wing, Garden Terrace

Nightly chats over tea are a favorite pastime of King Brydan Galdwin and the newly arrived Lady Lia Sidwell. Often taken on the garden terrace when the weather is pleasant, tonight, they're joined by a third guest. Though...now it's just two of them again.

"You had a heavy hand."

"Sorry, your Majesty." A hunting hound comes over to sniff the bloodied and motionless body on the ground. "I would have expected the king to be able to hold his drink."

Lady Sidwell inches her chair back to avoid staining her shoes as the blood trickles in her direction. She wears a critical frown and peers into the teacup at the third seat. A speck of red powder clings to the leaves at the bottom of the cup.

"I'll clean it up," continues the young mage. He meets Lady Sidwell's severe gaze for a second before turning to his hound. He holds out a piece of dried rabbit for it to eat.

"Oh, don't be silly. You'll have better things to do as the High Mage."

Mace Hemmett looks back up. He smiles, pleased with himself, then adds, "I could've gotten rid of Ambrose, too. He doesn't run very fast."

"Tch. And explain to the Duchess why her brother is in shreds? You know we can't afford all that discontent in Hayle." Lady Sidwell stands and steps over the former king. "Come along. I don't want to be caught in the fray."

◎ East Wing, the Queen's Chambers

Even in the darkest hours, Castle Thorne doesn't sleep. Servants work through the night. Guards make their rounds. The ruling class is beholden to no schedule save as suits them. No one takes note of Sidwell moving through the halls. He walks with a calm sense of purpose and nods in silent greeting to anyone he passes who warrants acknowledgment. Nothing seems amiss.

His destination is Queen Ellya's quarters. The guards allow him to pass without thought or question. The running of the kingdom is none of their concern.

Sidwell is not expected. The rooms are silent and shadowed, lit only with faint points of dim illumination. He reaches for the door with a shake of his head. There is work to be done. Any ruler worth their salt would be up and doing it. He considers how Ellya has been accomplishing that work so far, and supposes it makes no difference. It is a pity. She'd shown such promise once. Regrettably, she hasn't lived up to it.

There's no time left to hope she'll suddenly flourish as a wise and tempered leader. Measures must be taken for the good of the kingdom. There is no joy or pleasure in it. Sidwell would rather not be in this position but he puts those feelings aside. Some things are simply more important.

The Admiral slips into his niece's chamber without a sound, his hand already on the hilt of his blade. There's no need for any fanfare or long goodbyes. Indeed, one might question if Ellya realizes at all who betrayed her in her final hour as the knife sinks into her heart.

◎ South Wing, Ambrose's Office

The thick piece of parchment dissolves in a flash of violet flames and a weathered hand closes around the embers. Anatasia's handwriting stays burned on his inner eyelids as Ambrose closes his eyes tightly. Every fiber of his being is wound tight. He holds the tension until a misty aura surrounds him, blurring his appearance and compelling curious eyes elsewhere. A peasant's spell, truly. Unfortunately, any large burst of magic will alert the entire castle.

The slimy cur.

Muttering to himself, Ambrose grabs a small satchel and the most important artifact in his office: a heavy tome with its pages of insight and, most significantly, the summoning ritual. The seal - physical and magical - remains unbroken, but he won't leave its fate up to chance. He wraps it tightly into his robes, clutched to his chest like a breastplate.

Moving to the door, Ambrose pauses, looking back at the room that's been more like a home than even his chambers in the royal castle.

"A terrible waste on feeble minds..."

Just as he is about to grab the knob, he pauses again. Then he exhales sharply and snatches his pondering orb. He shoves it into a large pocket.

He slips through the castle uninhibited, forced to drop his illusion only when he enters the stable. The horses are too reactionary to a presence they can feel but cannot see. Ambrose chooses a steed with large hooves and deep eyes and affixes the saddle.

"Hey! You aren't supposed to be in here - "

Ambrose turns, surprised expression rapidly turning into a frosty glare that stops the stable boy in his tracks.

"H-High Mage?"

Before the boy can utter another word, Ambrose swiftly recites a practiced incantation and presses his thumb to the boy's head. The young lad instantly collapses, sound asleep with no memory of the last hour.

"I won't risk any witnesses. Not with the fate of Thorne and the entirety of Abraxas on the line."

With the saddle and reins secured, Ambrose pulls up his cloak and disappears into the night.

Midnight, June 16 - the Free Cities

◎ West Gate, Cadens

The summer heat is an oppressive weight over the desert west of Cadens. A busy merchant's stop on the roads that border the badlands shimmers like a mirage, a welcome reprieve from the brunt of the midday sun. Located only a short few miles away from a military outpost, it attracts as many soldiers as civilians. Pleasantries are exchanged under wide awnings. Visitors barter for last-minute supplies and find a moment's refuge inside tents.

As the day goes on, the stop gathers more and more patrons waiting out the heat. As temperatures cool come nightfall, travelers prepare to continue their journeys.

"Look out!"

A shout from a farrier. Peddlers turn to the west, rapidly packing their valuables to flee the usual bandit attack. Soldiers pull their weapons ready.

A reddish-brown plume rushes through the encampment, easily mistaken for a sudden dust storm if not for the immediate bloom of burning irritation that afflicts the eyes and nose. A few cover their mouths instinctively, while others cough and try to catch their breath. A convenient wind shifts the plume, blowing it toward the outpost...and straight through the gates of Cadens.

Through the chaos, only one soldier notices the figure standing collapsed in the sand where the plume originated. Although the clothes belong to that of a bandit, a smoldering tarot card clutched in the figure's hand signifies a mage - seldom found in the Free Cities, much less the Badlands.

Only a terrible wheeze comes out when she tries to speak. Blood splatters from her lips to the ground. An urgent hand lands on her shoulder.

"Shit...sergeant!"

A siren blares, echoing across the sands as it travels to the city gates and beyond. The last thing she sees before the painful blistering takes her sight are soldiers and civilians mounting horses and wagons, fleeing back to Cadens - and taking with them a lingering yellow-green powder that coats their hair and clothes.

How strange. Wasn't the plume red?

Summary

The Prologue details a coup in Thorne, which deposes the current King and Queen. At the same time, an insidious attack is unleashed on the Free Cities.

Castle Thorne, the Kingdom of Thorne

◎ Crowned: Admiral King Rudolph Sidwell, Lady Queen Lia Sidwell
◎ Deceased: King Brydan Galdwin III, Queen Ellya Galdwin
◎ Exiled: Ambrose Rhett (Nott)
◎ Promoted: Mace Hemmet (the Twelfth High Mage)

The coup is enacted by Rudolph Sidwell, the Queen's uncle. An unprecedented betrayal due to their reportedly close relationship, Ellya was killed by Rudolph's own hand in her chambers with a dagger through the heart. Meanwhile, King Brydan was poisoned during one of his frequent tea sessions with his old friend Lia Sidwell, served to him by Mace Hemmet...with Lia's full knowledge.

For this act of loyalty, Mace was promoted to High Mage. Ambrose Rhett, who has served as Thorne's Eleventh High Mage for the past twelve years, fled the castle, having received a secret warning from Hayle - where his sister serves as Duchess. He's now in exile in Nott.

Cadens, the Free Cities

Aware that the turmoil in Thorne might be exploited by the Free Cities, Rudolph Sidwell took steps to ensure the Free Cities and its military would be preoccupied with a crisis of their own: by sending a loyalist from Thorne to release a noxious yellow-red cloud just outside the gates of Cadens.

Sirens activate quickly across the Free Cities, but the winds - manipulated further by Thornean magic - carry the thick cloud into the city. Military outposts stationed near the gates are struck first. The effects of the cloud are not immediately apparent until after citizens are evacuated. Because the initial symptoms are that of a deadly choking gas, soldiers and officials react accordingly. However, the actual effect of the cloud, obscured by the alarming corrosiveness it inflicted, is a pollen-like residue that sticks to the skin and infects the body with a much slower-acting disease...one that saps the victim of both magic and life.

The Fall

This portion of the event will take place over one week. Characters should ideally all be at the site of action if they wish to participate. You can choose any reason to maneuver them to the right location, such as temporary repairs after the storms, visiting a friend, or similar.

Players can also use IC EXCHANGES throughout the entire event.

The First Night

The details won't be available to you when chaos first strikes. All you'll know is that the locals are frantic, an evacuation is taking place, and you are ushered along with very little time or room to seek answers. You can try to communicate with the other Summoned through the Network, but chances are, they won't know much, either. The best thing you can do is stay calm - and make sure those around you remain the same.

Thorne

The pounding on your door interrupts your night. Outside are Royal Guards who won't relent until you open up. They urge you to come with them. In the distance, the rumbles of magic and swords clashing echo. They seem to be coming from the East Wing, where you know the royals and court mages live. As you continue to look, you see smoke beginning to fill the hall. More and more of the castle staff come your direction: cooks, apprentices, students, gardeners. You might even recognize some faces. The guards that are with you are all Royal Guards. Members of the Royal Navy are nowhere to be found.

Regardless, the guards hustle you further down the hall, giving you very little chance to ask questions. Many seem as confused as you are. All they know is that the East Wing is under attack and that their job is to keep everyone in the castle safe. You're led down a winding set of stairs, going past the dungeons deep into the bowels of the castle. A heavy stone gate glows with magic and then opens. The staff don't hesitate, and if you ask, they will tell you that this is one of the castle's safe rooms.

As the last person comes through, the door seals tightly, locking everyone inside. For the ten minutes, quiet tension builds. Then a loud explosion shakes the room, sending debris falling from the ceiling. When a guard tries to go outside to see what happened, she discovers a problem: the door's warded locks will not release.

Free Cities

As Thorne's sitting monarchy crumbles, a blaring siren will sound across the Free Cities. Anyone outside late at night will see a cloud of spores blow through the skies above the city gates and into Cadens. You won't have time to contemplate: soldiers and city guards will react quickly, immediately evacuating all of Cadens. The Free Cities' well-trained army is practiced at keeping things orderly, but chaos and panic are inevitable. Several portals have been set up at the city square, each one granting entry to an underground bunker in Aquila.

As the Summoned, your well-being is prioritized whether you like it or not. You can go last if you want to help as many women, children, and other vulnerable citizens through first, but eventually, they will insist that you, too, must go through the portal. They will attempt to explain that they require you there to protect the evacuated citizens while the army focuses on defensive measures and diverting any remaining locals to the city of Aquila above-ground, the furthest point from the site of the attack.

Once underground, the bunker will be sealed off. Soldiers are under strict orders not to open it for any reason until granted the all-clear. You may be somewhat comforted at first by the amount of supplies stocked in the area, enough for a couple of weeks or more. Soon, however, it becomes apparent that the cloud unleashed is not the corrosive gas initially believed.

Solvunn

Solvunn is reliant on the Gods and guardians to protect it. Instead of sirens or guards, what wakes you in the night is some horrible shrieking. While you might've heard one of these unusual shrieking weeds scream when unearthed, now there are hundreds of them bellowing from underground. The vibrations shake the earth. A thick fog rolls in around the edges of each Settlement and the lakes turn red.

Neighbors, Elders, and members of the Council rouse everyone in the Primary Settlement. Locals know when the Gods are warning them and won't hesitate to take the signs seriously. Outside, the Council has already created a portal that leads to an underground ritual site, used for safety and prayer. You'll be one of the ones told to go through, along with the elderly and children. While not everyone can make it, the natives will refuse to let the Summoned give up their place. Accepting the sacrifice of any of the blessed will only test the temper of the Gods. They tell you that the most important thing you can do is go to the ritual site and perform the rites below.

The ritual warding cannot be broken once you're through. Going back out will risk compromising its protective force. The Council believes the Gods will send a sign when it's safe to leave, though they are unable to say when that'll be.

Sealed In

As hours drag into days, you begin to worry. Supplies aren't lacking for now, but with no indication of how long you'll be trapped, it's hard not to be concerned. Close quarters also lead to increased tensions, some have injuries or medical requirements, children need tending to, and many are separated from their families and loved ones. Doors will open by the end of the week, but you won't know that until then.

Each underground area has the following resources in common: a renewable supply of fresh water (refilled via magic in Thorne and Solvunn, and technology in the Free Cities), food and healing supplies that will require rationing, a limited number of beds but enough room on the ground to sleep on, and the same plumbing structure that each territory typically has. Essentially, you may assume that basic needs are met while characters are trapped.

Castle Safe Room

Castle Thorne's safe room is fairly large, able to accommodate up to 200-300 people. Made of heavily warded stone, it's an impressive piece of magical architecture designed to keep the castle's occupants safe during a siege. Floating orbs cast a dim and eerie glow, enough to see where you're going. The air is a bit chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. Guards will keep a close eye on rations. You'll have more access if you're a trusted Summoned, but everyone else will need to wait for distribution to receive what they need.

◎ Releasing the Warding: The sealed door is the biggest problem to contend with. Standard spells and physical force don't seem to work. Despite your initial suspicions, it's evident that this was an accident. Mages on the outside promise to look for help, but it's clear that the turmoil has disrupted much of the castle's ability to act effectively. You're better off trying to find solutions yourself. The more you work at it, the more the warding begins to crack.

Watch how forceful you're being. If you push too hard, you might shake the foundations, break containers holding precious supplies, or risk caving in the entire structure. Indeed, it's likely that efforts from apprentice mages and other Thorneans will cause unwanted rumbles or corrupt other spells maintaining the safe room. The room might plunge into darkness or temperatures might fluctuate - all things you'll have to work together to fix before returning to your attempts. You might also run into conflict with natives or other Summoned who disagree with your tactics.

◎ Foul Waters: A day or so in, someone notices that the barrels of fresh water have turned murky. Though the magic that allows the barrels to refill themselves works, the water itself is contaminated. As it turns out, the spell has corrupted along with the sealed warding. Luckily, one apprentice has fled the commotion with her box of alchemy supplies and asks for help to brew a purifying potion that will cleanse the drinking water. Because of her limited ingredients, the potion only has a shelf life of a few hours, meaning a regular supply needs to be kept up. You can follow her instructions and take turns with your fellow Summoned to create the potion. The ingredients are sensitive, though, so be careful not to waste them!

◎ General Acts: As one of the Summoned, you hold some sway and trust with the locals, many of whom are regular citizens. Some might be familiar to you: perhaps you attended some magic classes with them, shared a meal in the dining hall, or lent them a hand with the horses. With Castle Thorne in disarray, the guards with you are as confused as anyone and have no way of receiving orders from their superiors. They'll do their best to keep things orderly, but they'll need your help to make sure everyone gets along. You can break up fights, mediate arguments, distribute supplies, and keep people calm. A few were also injured during the rush. Sprains, contusions, and more serious (but non-fatal) wounds will all need to be looked after.

Aquila Bunker

Aquila's underground bunker is one of the newest and largest, able to accommodate up to 2000 people comfortably - twice that with a tight squeeze. Made of stone featuring mosaics and murals, it was designed through the efforts of the Free Cities' finest engineers and one Summoned well-known for his architectural projects. The stocked pantry and medical areas can only be accessed by doctors and soldiers. As the Summoned, you'll be allowed in without too many questions, but everyone else will need to wait for distribution to receive what they need. One recreational area has been stocked with reading materials and basic writing and art supplies; however, the other is being used as a sealed armory that will be guarded by soldiers. The greenhouse contains limited crops that aren't ready for harvest, and one kitchen is currently operational. While dorm-like rooms were planned, only the medical bay has any beds right now. If you're in one of the standard dorm rooms, you'll have to sleep on the floor.

◎ Infection & Quarantine: Several hours in, a few of the natives exhibit signs of infection. Rashes form in patches over their bodies. By the next morning, the most severe cases contain lesions that split open the skin. While the abrasions heal surprisingly quickly, the scabbing leaves a permanent layer of thickened skin that itches, and then splits open again. The process repeats until the patch of skin resembles the bark of a tree. Malaise commonly accompanies the infected. Doctors in the bunker identify the thickened skin as confirmation of Heartwood Syndrome, an incurable and sometimes fatal disease that's left Fomalhaut in tight quarantine for decades.

While the infected aren't yet contagious, they will be within a matter of weeks. Soldiers will lock down a section of the medical bay, a contentious decision for anyone who's separated from friends and family. Further, the initial symptoms are difficult to distinguish from a common rash or simple fatigue, causing small bursts of disorder and unwarranted accusations. Not everyone will agree to regular testing, either. The Summoned, however, seem to be immune, which the doctors will be curious about. You can offer more of your blood for testing, keep things calm, and break up any conflict.

◎ Wandering Pigeon: A young assistant named Alice snatched Nikolai, Aleksander Klingel's beloved pet pigeon in the evacuation. Alice has grown irrationally anxious about the bird and will ask anyone who listens to search for the bird when it flaps away, make sure it has enough food, or keep an eye on it. In reality, Nikolai is perfectly independent and quite safe in the bunker, but the soldiers will - with some exasperation - request you do as she says if you have the time to keep Alice from agitating the other civilians. If you talk to Alice, she will admit that she left behind an old dog on the surface. Evidently, it's not really about the pigeon. You can help her with the pigeon, spend some time with Alice to distract her from worrying about her pets, or both.

◎ General Acts: As one of the Summoned, you hold some sway and trust with the locals, many of whom are civilians. Some might be familiar to you: shopkeepers, blacksmiths, orphans, and more. With so many people in one space, not only will soldiers need your help to keep things orderly, but you might also find yourself intervening if any of the guards or soldiers get too aggressive. After all, tensions are high for everyone. You can break up fights, mediate arguments, distribute supplies, and keep people calm. A few were also injured during the rush. Sprains, contusions, and more serious (but non-fatal) wounds will all need to be looked after. Finally, Portam Hall wasn't able to stress test the bunker before the emergency struck - meaning repairs and construction upgrades are required. If you're handy with a hammer, you can get to work.

Settlement Ritual Site

Solvunn's underground ritual site is surprisingly large, able to accommodate a sizeable portion of the Primary Settlement. How far underground the site is located is difficult to tell, but the dirt walls smell old and earthy. One large room with a comfortably high ceiling acts as the main shelter. The floor is decorated in intricate patterns of laid stone dug into the earth and there are few places to sit. Smaller rooms connect to the main chamber on all sides, the largest adjacent of which is a cold storage that remains half-full after the passing of winter and early spring. Food and medicine are freely accessible. In Solvunn, the commune polices itself...and the eyes of your neighbors are a greater deterrent against selfish acts than any set of rules or laws.

◎ Seeing Eyes: There is one task the Elders believe only the Summoned can help with: a scrying ritual that connects the commune to what they call the Seeing Eyes. These Seeing Eyes are members of the commune who have long established their roots abroad in Thorne and the Free Cities. They directly serve the Gods and, by proxy, the Council. The scrying circle is located in a small warded room. Here, you'll be asked to etch your Arcana Sign onto the back of a sigil-carved bone charm and add it to the circle. Upon doing so, you will borrow one of the Seeing Eyes' sight and glimpse either the situation on the outskirts of Castle Thorne or in Nott, or briefly view one of the bunkers in Cadens and Libertas. The ritual is physically taxing and the vision you receive is blurry and disjointed, lasting only a minute or two. You may suffer a headache afterward.

For Thorne, the outskirts and Nott can carry chatter that confirms Rudolph Sidwell's ascension to the throne and that Ambrose Rhett has fled to Nott - no word on who's replaced him. For the Free Cities, viewing the bunkers in Cadens and Libertas will inform you that there are cases of infection there, too, but will also serve to reassure you (and others) that the Aquila bunker is not the only shelter available. These bunkers are much older than Aquila's, where the Free Cities Summoned are, but still effective.

◎ Burrowers: Solvunnites aren't the only ones who have retreated underground. Large worms are drawn to valuable food stores. The worms are easily provoked into a defensive state due to their lack of sight. When they bite, their saliva contains an irritant that causes rashes and itching. In children and the elderly, this effect can be more severe, resulting in many scratching off their skin. What's worse, a nearby colony of mole rats has decided that the ritual site would make a perfect new colony. Both threats will need to be dealt with. However, as they are part of the natural ecosystem, the Elders believe that the animals should be contained rather than harmed where possible to avoid further upsetting the balance of the commune.

◎ General Acts: As one of the Summoned, you hold some sway and trust with the locals, many of whom revere you as chosen by the gods. Some might be familiar to you: farmers, traders, children, and more. With the settlements and surrounding townships and villages being so spread out, more than the Elders will need your help providing comfort and faith. People might come to you looking for reassurance that the Gods are watching over them while others fear disfavor that will blight the land. The Primary Settlement is the foremost location for education, so there are collections of children of all ages who will need watching over or instruction. If not Solvunn or the Gods, they are eager to learn about you and your fellow Summoned.

Exiles In Nott

A few of the Summoned with close ties to the Crown received a hasty warning before the coup took place. Under the cover of night, and joined by the former High Mage Ambrose Rhett, they will flee the castle and journey to Nott, where Lyle Vela will offer them safe refuge.

This section applies only to players who received an event plot from us for their extended involvement with Thorne's fallen monarchy.

◎ The Escape

While Castle Thorne is in turmoil, you'll meet Ambrose Rhett at the designated gathering point in the woods. The stablehand will be mysteriously missing from the stables, allowing you to each take one horse of your choosing. Thornean horses are sturdy and bred for the mountain terrain.

Ambrose will be all business. He'll take off as soon as you arrive and will lead the way. The path will likely be unfamiliar to you. The roads are also not well-maintained since many castle residents and the city's wealthy population tend to use portals for travel. Fallen branches and other debris from the storms not yet cleaned up remain a hazard...and you'll probably want to stay off the main roads as much as possible.

The journey will take you one week on horseback. If you hunt for food, take care to cover your tracks and other signs of movement. Ambrose will have rations and potions on him for any wounds or injuries sustained. It won't be a lot, so be careful you don't overextend yourself. You might run into some dangerous wildlife, though nothing exceptionally challenging. Stay on guard and avoid entering the Horizon too frequently.

You can use the Network to check in on your friends back at Castle Thorne. While you're traveling, they'll be trapped in the safe room. By the time they're released, you'll have reached Nott.

◎ First Days

Once in Nott, Ambrose will tell you to go to the Stormy Gull, a tavern famous for its fish pies. He'll give you each a small pouch of money, enough to get by for a couple of days. Then he'll wish you luck and leave.

At the Stormy Gull, you'll stay the night among the salted fish barrels in the cellar. While not ideal, you'll have some cots to sleep on and you'll be offered a room with a bath to freshen up in the next morning. The innkeeper will also give you a free meal, but if you want a drink or something other than fish pie, you'll have to pay up.

From here, you're on your own...sort of. Although Lyle Vela will not meet you directly, it seems his influence has extended subtly throughout Nott: food stalls lower their prices a little or throw in an extra loaf of bread, the local charity house mysteriously has extra clothes or potions on hand, and inns will allow you to stay in their rooms as long as you wash the dishes or repair something or other. Your first few days in Nott won't be as comfortable as the castle, but you are away from the kingdom's watchful eyes - and the sudden chaos unleashed.

Be sure to keep your head down. Lyle has some leverage due to the new monarchy's tentative hold on power, but that leverage only goes so far.

Recovery

At the end of the first week, you'll be able to leave the underground area. Residents of Castle Thorne will face a new regime, the Free Cities must contend with the potential infectious spread of Heartwood Syndrome, and Solvunn must expel lingering signs of the Gods' warnings before they seep too far into the land.

For Choosing a Path, you must SUBMIT THE DECISION your character has made if you want your choice to count towards the outcome. The choice with the most support will "win." There is no formal in-game vote or discussion, however.

Votes close June 29 @ 11:59 ET

Aftermath

The abrupt emergency in each territory has caused a ripple effect throughout the land: confused civilians, disorder, broken-down infrastructure, and more. Of course, the natives aren't the only thing you need to worry about. You probably have concerns of your own: friends in other territories, questions about what the future holds, and what this means for the nation you reside in.

Thorne

Castle Thorne is the least in disarray. The takeover was carefully planned and carried out. Other than some hiccups - the corrupted warding, for one - everything appears to have proceeded smoothly for those who picked the right side. For anyone who didn't, they've either been cut down where they stood, were forced to flee, or are now imprisoned in the dungeons awaiting judgment.

◎ The former monarchy's most loyal guards and personal servants have been executed, which you'll only know if you ask around. The newly crowned King Rudolph Sidwell is disinterested in gauche displays of power and thus sees no reason to hang the bodies of his enemies or make any grand statements. A military man, he is especially respectful of soldiers who proved their loyalty to the end even if they were on opposing sides. As a result, the dead are all being quietly prepared so that they can be returned to their families for a proper burial.

◎ As the Summoned, you'll be allowed to return to your room and continue life in the castle as usual. How well you're able to do that depends, but the guards won't interfere with you as long as you don't cause trouble or poke your nose where it doesn't belong. You can help the kitchens take inventory of the pantry, tend to the horses, or fill in gaps where some staff members are now absent. There aren't that many apprentice mages, for example, and the fires have scorched some valuable books and scrolls that need restoration.

◎ If you know the exiled Summoned in Nott, you can visit them, but try to do it early in the mornings away from the prying eyes of guards, and don't overstay your welcome. Although you won't always have to be this careful, it's a good idea for now while things are unstable. Likely, the exiled Summoned will be busy trying to settle down or searching for a job. Locals in Nott will treat them like any other citizen and avoid drawing attention to the Summoned.

◎ The general population outside the castle is largely accepting of the new monarchy in that they don't care who's in charge. Commoners don't expect their lives to be any better or worse under King Rudolph. They're wary but willing to wait and see how things go. It helps that Queen Lia made herself useful to the town during the storms. Some even consider a military man to be more "down to earth." Borrel is supportive, believing that the new King will prioritize naval advancements, while Nott sees it as an opportunity to assert itself while the kingdom regains its footing.

Free Cities

The Free Cities' vast population means disorder is unavoidable. Hasty evacuations and unplanned quarantines have left every city with the usual problems that accompany such instances, from looting to protests to long lineups outside Portam Hall as people try to obtain paperwork and information. Tempers run hot, orphans and other disenfranchised individuals are lost in the system, and hospitals are overwhelmed, leaving those who would take advantage to fill in the gaps with snake oil and dangerous treatments.

◎ The government's main priority is to find and quarantine all those infected. Fortunately, the infection isn't contagious until the bark skin forms and buds begin to sprout, making it very obvious who's taken ill. Heartwood Syndrome spreads when the pollen bursts from the buds. This won't happen for at least 2-3 weeks, meaning you won't see those symptoms in the early days. The pollen's pathogen lifespan is extremely short and it does not live very well once released into the air. Indeed, the Free Cities' dense population is the main reason Heartwood is an effective weapon here, a fact that strongly suggests it was specifically tailored to attack the Cities.

◎ As the Summoned, you'll be allowed to return home and continue life as usual. How well you're able to do that depends, but soldiers and guards won't interfere with you as long as you don't cause trouble or poke your nose where it doesn't belong. You can help deliver medical supplies, work with people struggling to fill out paperwork, assist with quarantine efforts, and guard borders or shops from bandits and thieves. Civilians who do not report an infected person or who attempt to hide one are at risk of being arrested or fined.

◎ The Cadens barracks nearest to the Badlands were struck the hardest. The entire area is now locked down and sealed off, and many soldiers have been taken by Heartwood Syndrome. The reality is that they, along with others afflicted, will have to be moved into permanent quarantine in Fomalhaut to live out the rest of their lives, a task that Portam Hall means to accomplish within two weeks - before it becomes contagious. Those afflicted with Heartwood Syndrome can survive many years with treatment, but can never interact with the general population again. They are slowly drained of life and magic as the bark-like effect takes over internally. Eventually, the growths affect their connective tissue, stiffening the limbs. At its most aggressive, the disease takes over the organs. Death arrives quickly once this happens.

◎ Since the Summoned are determined to be immune to Heartwood Syndrome, you'll be able to travel freely throughout the Free Cities. The rest of the population is locked down, with many from Cadens and Libertas trapped in Aquila and separated from friends and family. You'll have the unique advantage of being able to relay messages, transport supplies, and deliver vital resources to isolated communities.

Solvunn

The situation in Solvunn is less hectic, but by no means normal. Signs from the Gods have left their marks across the land, which must be rectified. The Council has undertaken several private meetings. What they're discussing is unknown, but even the most trusted Elders weren't invited. The main settlements are also seeing an influx of commune citizens who normally live in small isolated pockets deep in the woods. Fears of what what be going on near Borrel and the Badlands have driven them inward.

◎ Although the Gods' warnings are meant to aid, they've also caused some unusual disruptions that must be put right. In particular, the goats have stopped eating. Each night, they wander the settlement in small herds of four or five. They walk upright on two legs and make no noise. At each door, they knock on it with their hooves until the person inside answers and acknowledges their "message." They do the same to each home until sunrise whereupon they go to sleep. Though their lack of nutrition doesn't seem to be causing them harm, residents are eager to get their goats back so that they can once again be used for milk and other tasks on the farms. You can paint runes on the goats using a mixture of chicken blood, garlic, and herbs, which seems to cure them of their stupor. There are a lot of goats, so getting each one will take a while.

◎ As the Summoned, you'll be allowed to return to the settlements and continue life as usual. How well you're able to do that depends, especially since the locals frequently seek your blessing and aid around the commune. You can help deliver potions, mind the children, tend to shrines, and assist with chores and other duties. You can also make or serve meals for the many community dinners hosted nightly to bring everyone together in a time of strife. The communal meals are extra important due to the arrival of villagers from their woodland communities.

◎ The lakes and ponds now stained red require cleansing. This is especially important for the fishermen who rely on freshwater fish as much as saltwater. Vimorskas, the Guardian of Preserved Lands, has arrived to ensure the land is put right after such a disruption. His presence will take the form of tiny mushrooms that sprout and hop at your feet when you approach the red waters. You can harvest the mushrooms, dry them in the sun, then grind them into a powder that you must scatter over the waters. Each time you do this, the waters grow slightly clearer until they eventually return to normal.

◎ Overall, the locals are concerned but calm. They trust in the Council and believe the warnings are a sign that the Gods are watching over them. Edda Hagen becomes a prominent presence while the Council is occupied with its duties behind closed doors. She frequently goes from settlement to settlement, where she tends to all livestock behaving unusually. If you're good with animals, she'll accept your help with common responsibilities such as giving medicine, checking the animal's weight, and the occasional birth of a calf or a lamb.

Choosing a Path

As you continue to deal with the fallout, you'll also be faced with a choice. Your decision will have a direct impact and far-reaching effects you can't predict. You can abstain if you want, but chances are, you'll be compelled to do something.

Thorne

No regime change is complete without a coronation. The Kingdom of Thorne will hold a ceremony honoring their new King and Queen on JUNE 30, an all-day affair. At the same time, however, Lyle Vela of Nott is requesting extra aid to reinforce the wards around the city, concerned about retaliation from the Free Cities. Your choice will have an immediate reflection upon you...and may also influence a future decision that the King and Queen make.

When selecting one of the two options below, you should account for the impact on you and what it might mean for your friends. Attempting to do both will dissatisfy each side and disqualify your "vote," as Nott will not receive your full assistance, and the King and Queen will not receive your full support.

1. Attend the coronation
The main coronation will take place in Castle Thorne in the throne room with the King and Queen and their children, but there will also be concurrent celebrations in Borrel and Nott. The royals will not be present in the latter two cities. If you're one of the exiles in Nott, you may attend the celebration there to support the new monarchy. All the necessary formalities will take place. While King Rudolph dislikes excess, he realizes the need to please the people. As a result, the coronation and related celebrations will feature plenty of wine, food, and entertainment...though for anyone who's been in Castle Thorne for a while, you might notice some restraint here or there: less wasted food, a plainer outfit for he and his wife, and simpler decorations. Nott's celebration will have the sparsest attendance but there will still be those who show up out of curiosity or because they believe the new King might be better than the old one.

2. Decline attendance and/or assist Nott
You can distance yourself from the new King and Queen by declining to attend and/or forgoing attendance to assist Nott as requested. On the surface, Lyle Vela states that he doesn't wish to disrupt the coronation and he's only asking for assistance should the Summoned be available. However, he emphasizes that the last time there was an attack on the Free Cities, Nott suffered the harshest consequences. They could use a hand shoring up their defenses should that happen again. To help Nott, you must inscribe a series of runes along the city's walls and gates. The task is simple but may take some time to complete.

Free Cities

Unrest in the Free Cities has led to multiple cases of arson. Most of the anger stems from the perceived failure of the military to protect them from Thorne, and the subsequent quarantine measures that have split families apart. The city is hard at work quelling the discontent, but resources are limited. When two separate mobs target two facilities located on opposite ends of Cadens, the army has no choice but to divide their already thin forces in half. One is a family compound; the other is a military medical facility. The attack occurs in the middle of the night while everyone is asleep.

You don't have to help, but the army would be grateful if you did. You won't have time to do both, so you'll have to choose one of the locations below. Regardless of your skills, each area can equally use you.

1. Defend the military family compound
Located far north of Cadens, the compound is occupied by spouses, children, elderly parents, and other members of the army's family. Taking advantage of the army's reduced forces and split attention, a crowd stormed the compound. Whispers suggest that one of the soldiers inside - equally disillusioned - has let them in, though nothing is confirmed. By the time you arrive on the scene, most of the mob has been arrested or neutralized, but it's much too late to stop the fire, which is rapidly growing in the desert heat. Many could use your help evacuating them from the burning building. The Free Cities pump also needs repairs before it can be used to put out the fire.

2. Defend the military medical facility
To the south of Cadens is the medical facility, which primarily treats wounded soldiers, including patients who are there for long-term care. The building also has field nurses, doctors, and administrative personnel. The mob that rushed the facility believes that Portam Hall is hiding a cure for Heartwood Syndrome and is reserving it for military use. They've disrupted most of the hospital's New Magic infrastructure in retaliation, shutting down vital equipment. By the time you arrive on scene, the instigators have been dealt with but the hospital could use your help moving patients to the one still-functioning east wing of the facility. The equipment also requires repairs to get them back up and running again before they start losing patients.

Solvunn

In Solvunn, the Council is determined to keep the commune safe. After conferring for several days, two members of the Council - Isar Hart and Winifred Bordeaux - along with three trusted Elders travel to The Nether. Word has it that Luna, to secure its foothold after the incident with Ikorr, has swayed the Nether to let Solvunn consult with the shrine negotiated last year. Back in Solvunn, Rowan March will abruptly gather you and your friends after sunset. Having successfully received a sign from the shrine, Rowan explains that the God wishes to see the Summoned's dedication to the commune and its citizens. You're asked to bestow your blessing towards one of the following: the open waters shared with Thorne's naval force or the forest to the east, home to many revered shrines, ritual sites, and ancient villages.

The God does not possess endless patience. It wants a demonstration before sunrise. The Tertiary Settlement would be grateful for your protection...but so would the woodland villagers, who have temporarily evacuated and hope to return home soon. The Council explains that it's best to devote yourself to just one of the areas. Though the God did not say so, the Council and Elders worry that splitting your focus will affect how the God perceives the commune's resolve.

1. Protect the waters
Solvunn shares its waters with Thorne, which is a cause for concern. Firstly, the treaty negotiated two years ago was with the old monarchy. They fear it won't be honored under Thorne's new reign. Secondly, Solvunn is no longer perceived to be as neutral as they were. Their Summoned population has grown to nearly match that of Thorne's, and the Gods have demonstrated their considerable power. If the new King strikes Solvunn from Borrel, it would be devastating to the Tertiary Settlement and Solvunn's reliance on its fishing economy. If you believe Solvunn is most vulnerable by the water, demonstrate your dedication to its protection by joining the others and weaving seashells into some netting that spans the length of the shore. The more shells by sunrise, the better.

2. Shelter the forest
The Badlands have been contested territory between Thorne and the Free Cities for many years. Due to the release of Heartwood, The Council is worried another widespread attack could strike much closer to Solvunn's forests. Not only do the forests contain important shrines, but they're also home to ancient ritual sites that could unleash a dark power if disturbed. In addition, its small and well-protected villages retain some of Solvunn's most ancient traditions and forest guardians who preserve Solvunn's vital ecology. All of these are at risk if conflict breaks out in the Badlands. If you believe Solvunn is most vulnerable by the forests, demonstrate your dedication to its protection by joining the others and tying animal bones to a series of hanging vines that cover a swath of trees. The more bones by sunrise, the better.

---

Comments

one final sneak

[cointosser]

[The damage is done, but Geralt can definitely hear Jaskier whisper into the new wall in front of his face: "I'm going to make sure every pierogi you eat for the rest of your life is only half-filled."]

[judgmentbolts]

Nice to — right then. [ Never mind that.

In the span of what feels like a few seconds, Cid goes from silently working on a wall (with the aid of Geralt's equally silent companionship) to being flung into the storm that is Jaskier and his baby gryphon. Were he anyone else, Cid might be taken aback, but after spending over a decade raising Midadol Telamon there's very little in the way of interpersonal chaos that can phase him.

He continues working on the wall while Geralt gets chewed out, barely even looking up from what he's doing. When it seems like Jaskier has finally wound down, Cid gives him a little consolation pat on the shoulder and then just. Moves him a little to the left. He can continue threatening the wall when he's not in the way. ]

No discipline, that one. You could try spanking him. [ He scrapes away some extra mortar. ] Geralt of course, not little Mog.

[cointosser]

[It was less than 60 seconds, to be sure.

Because he's polite (to people who aren't Geralt,) Jaskier does move out of the way, setting Mog down, who appears to be winded by being squeezed against his chest during that whole thing. However, he also seems less inclined to run off or chew a boot, so there may be some intelligence in that rattling cat brain.

See? Cid gets him. It's almost enough to make Jaskier laugh.]

Oh, I have. It only makes him more surly. He prefers a gentle hand, despite the [He gestures at all of Geralt] look of him. [While Jaskier's said hands are dirty, they're not for building walls, so he doesn't offer to help.] Well, if neither of you are in the mood for wine and breakfast, I can see who else wants it.

[Completely ignoring that's not why he came over here in the first place...]

sorry sneaking one more in

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid doesn't truly have a chocobo in this race, he just likes to be contrary when it comes to Geralt and petty arguments, and he's easily swayed by pirogi. He huffs, almost a laugh at Jaskier's assertion about Geralt's particular preferences. ]

Breakfast? Just a tick, you could have opened with that — [ He reaches for Jaskier's arm to stop him wandering off, only now catching sight of the state of it. He hadn't really noticed before, in all of the commotion. That's a nasty scar for a bard to be carrying. Cid frowns, brow furrowing, but he doesn't comment on it as yet. ] I suppose we'll all be wanting to get washed up, eh? It'll be faster if we're all in there at once, but I'm happy to wait while you two love birds make up. Gently.

thank u for this food friends.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt quietly smooths out the mortar on his side, content to let Cid and Jaskier take turns poking at each other (and him). He neither confirms nor denies the allegations about his bedroom preferences.

He is, however, intrigued by the prospect of breakfast.

He reappears around the corner, stepping over a pile of leftover stone bricks. Dirt and dust cover his hands. His normally black shirt has turned a pale grey to match his hair. Expression unmoved, he finally speaks: ]

You'd be waiting a while. I'm not that easily won.

[ He tips his head for Cid to follow. He already knows Jaskier will. ]

breakfast is still comin

[cointosser]

Well, I could have, but I had other matters to address. [And, honestly, the bit of bitching gave him a little burst of energy. Perhaps it's good for the soul. He doesn't even feel bad about it; that was nice compared to what Geralt may have heard in the past. While his arms and back still hurt like a bitch... that is a good idea. He could use a good soak, dirtiness aside.] Anyway, Geralt's finished the work in half the time.

[Out of annoyance, obviously. Jaskier doesn't give much credence to whatever makes his expression change; honestly, the man's so handsy that Jaskier barely has any complaints, and maybe Cid was really dedicated to smoothing over that hole.

Well. Plenty of other holes, apparently.]

Don't listen to Geralt, he falls for every pretty face. [Jaskier gives Geralt a slap on the ass as encouragement towards the bathing room, and because it's his fault for playing into the game.

You know what -- he gives Cid a smack too, just to keep it even.] Come on, men. The baths won't stay hot forever.

[Well, they will, because of the magic, but neither of them know that. Jaskier leads the way; his time working in this bunker for months has imprinted its layout onto even his unconscious mind.] And I am quite eager to see both of you in it. Now what sort of wine are we feeling? Sweet? A hint of the bitter?

[gynvael]

[ True. That was nice, comparatively. He was not in a jail cell this time when Jaskier unleashed his displeasure upon him. Not that Geralt would ever claim innocence on his part. It's possible Jaskier's endless bemoaning has contributed to Geralt's continued neglect to "support his back legs" when he tucks the gryphon under his arm like one might a helmet. Also because he does not think a creature bred from a predator that's tried to eat him multiple times requires coddling.

His brows draw together slightly as Jaskier's hand connects with his backside, then Cid's. It is the latter which draws his attention more. Hm.

(Have Cid and Jaskier...?)

Wordlessly, he falls into step with Jaskier. He has few preferences when it comes to wine, so he lets Cid take up the mantle of answering. He sheds his shirt the moment they near the baths. Another may regret the lack of a change in clothes, but Geralt exists in one (1) outfit even on his best days, so this is par for the course. ]

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid doesn't need any further invitation than Geralt's nod. Though they carry on like they've been married for decades, Jaskier had described them as old friends, and Cid assumes that all of this means he isn't intruding -- or if he is, they aren't bothered with it.

In truth, the camaraderie is nice in and of itself. As the months have stretched on, it's occurred to him that he's not been away from the Hideaway this long since they'd first cobbled it together in that dingy hole in the ground. Though he'd never admit it aloud, he misses even his own nearly-married bickering with Otto.

He falls into step with the two of them, Jaskier settled between him and Geralt. It's perhaps his own mistake for putting himself in such easy reach. He hears the smack that follows that remark more than he sees it. ]

Does he? Well, that explains the two of -- [ Cid cuts off when Jaskier catches him too, his expression almost comically scandalized. He can't remember the last time anyone had the audacity, though he's not at all angry -- if anything, he takes it an invitation to reach over and pinch Jaskier's ass in return.

He tilts his head to catch Geralt's eye and raise an eyebrow. Whether he's silently asking about their current arrangement or the wine selection is anyone's guess. ]

Well, if the two of you haven't got any preference... Sharing something with a bit of bite to it suits me just fine.

[cointosser]

[(They haven't. But Jaskier is hardly opposed, as he's making himself well known. It's the spirit of camaraderie!)

Jaskier appears completely unrepentant, and his smile towards Cid exemplifies the complete lack of it. Now there's a man who deserves a bit more physical appreciation, if you ask him. (And Jaskier finally feels the spirit to be the one appreciating. He's barely been existing for weeks before this catastrophe, and while being stuck in this bloody castle underground is not spectacularly thrilling for him, he can admit his night with Geralt and having so much purpose here has righted a few wrongs he couldn't let go of.)

Cid's pinch back only serves to make him back. See? He has no reason to repent. The man's just as childish as he is.]

A bite, is it? Oh, I can make something with a bite. [He's never less thankful they thought to add the baths (and kitchen) first. There's other trapped fools in there already, but modesty is a quality disposed to those who had the chance to earn it. Jaskier strips quickly enough, revealing both the full length of his scarred arm and the ones across his chest, but sinks into the water with a sigh. It's not exactly a hot spring, but it's not nothing when he's dirty.

Mog sits dutifully by the edge. It's clear this isn't his first time accompanying his owner to the baths. Unfortunately, Jaskier doesn't have the spoils to give him a sandbath on the side, which is Mog's favorite.

What he does manage, with chaos glowing at his fingertips, is the heroes' feast: a basket of steaming pierogi, sweet buns, cinnamon rolls and two bottles of sour wine appear on the edge of the baths, as if left there for picnic. Jaskier plucks the wine out, popping the cork with a pull. He offers the first swig to Cid. As long as he remembers to sleep, his magic remains relatively easy to grasp.

He's already popping the cork from the second bottle for a swig of his own.] To getting the hell out of this place eventually.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt's answer to Cid's unasked question is a half-shrug—appropriate whether applied to the matter of wine or his arrangement. What is their arrangement? There isn't one, frankly. Jaskier is his friend. Sometimes they fuck. They didn't always fuck, but now they do. It's simple, which is how Geralt prefers things.

His trousers land on the floor beside his shirt. He sinks into the water alongside Jaskier, the steam rising around them. For a hidden shelter, it's startlingly well-equipped. One can almost believe there wasn't a fucking war about to start above ground.

He takes the wine straight from Jaskier's hands and drinks. ]

Eventually.

[ One would hope. He eyes Cid and Jaskier, still curious about what has been spoken between them. It is not normally something he'd care about, but he's been trapped down here for days and it's wearing on him. Restlessness in Geralt manifests in quiet ways—like a subtle tendency to start poking where he usually would not. ]

How did you two come across each other?

[judgmentbolts]

[ This all works well enough for him. Cid has never been particularly fussed about the form his friendships might take, so long as everyone is on the same page.

He strips without a fuss, baring scarred skin and a patchwork of stone that follows his left arm all the way up to his shoulder. He's becoming more accustomed to Abraxas and the lack of concern that people have when it comes to waving around all sorts of unusual magic -- case and point, Jaskier's little trick. When he eases into the water, he accepts the bottle of wine with a grateful nod. ] I'll drink to that.

[ Somehow, he isn't surprised when Geralt takes the other bottle out of Jaskier's hands. Neither of them look like they've had easy lives, though he'd expected it more with Geralt than Jaskier. If they want to flirt by annoying each other, he can't say that he minds.

He raises his bottle in Geralt's direction and takes a swallow. After a few days of working hard and sleeping rough, he doesn't think he can be blamed for the entirely-too-please sigh that follows. It's good wine, and it does something to ease the minor aches. ]

Jaskier was out and about trying to feed all of Cadens with fresh bread, so I tagged on. [ He sets the wine down on the edge of the bath and sinks a bit lower into the warm water. It might not be a hot spring, but Cid has no problem leaning his head against the edge of the bath and closing his eyes. It's big enough that there wasn't anyone loitering about waiting for a turn, so he supposes he might as well enjoy it.

He cracks an eye open to glance at Jaskier. ] Did you manage to brush the dirt from that one loaf before you passed it on to Geralt? Not that he'd notice, I'm sure.

[cointosser]

[Impossible for Jaskier (or anyone with eyes, to be honest) to miss the host of scars around his new friend, but more importantly, what looks like bloody rock. Did he imagine it? It's sunk behind the water and he's at least the mind not to ask (though have him even a year ago, and he wouldn't have even had that much ability to hold himself back.) He studies them with the same fascination he's had with Geralt's -- not so much that they exist, but crafting stories in his head from where they've come from.

Perhaps the way Jaskier lets the drink go with ease shows how used to it he's become.]

You made the mistake of offering to help. Though I can hardly blame you for wanting to stop for both my pretty face, unwavering attention and my fresh bread. [Which Jaskier doesn't turn down once he needs it. And besides, Cid ended up getting free bread out of it and the best of companions, so surely there's no complaint.

Jaskier coaxes Mog closer to rub a bit of dirt from his paw, and though the gryphon complains with nips on his hand, Jaskier is adamant.] Geralt's eaten worse than a bit of dusty bread. [And not because of him.] If you want more than the wine, feel free to partake. It'll be some time before I can make another.

[All right, he's held onto his self-control too long.] I'm sure a man as genial as you is more willing to give me a little tale behind one of those scars. You could say it's a bit of a hobby of mine.

[He doesn't, at least, ask about the stone.]

[gynvael]

[ The affliction that marks Cid's arm provokes a slight tilt to Geralt's head. He's seen it before on Dion—but, curiously, not Cid. He doesn't hide that he's looking, though nor does he stare—and his eyes soon snap back to Jaskier, regardless.

His. What?

Geralt frowns. It's not that the dusty bread offends him; it's the implication that Jaskier appears to have made a threat of it to Cid, which can only mean one thing: they were talking about him. Which. Also does not offend him, exactly, but a man is allowed to be a little suspect of what his best friend might've said to a stranger newly met.

He drinks more wine before returning the bottle to Jaskier. It's evident Geralt considers the bath as an opportunity to soak rather than do any sort of scrubbing. He leans back, fingers dipped idly in the water as the other two bandy back and forth. ]

Careful. You might inspire a song out of him.

[judgmentbolts]

Mm. I'm but a man; didn't have the strength to resist. [ Cid's voice is a mixture of sarcasm and warm amusement.

In truth, he knows that he ought to put more in his belly than just the wine, but the exhaustion and endless work have seen to it that his appetite is a dwindling thing even despite the enticing smell of food. ] Useful trick, that. I appreciate it. Let me get the muck off and I'll have something before it cools.

[ With some care he sits up again, and sets himself to properly cleaning up his hands where plaster has stuck to them, a few shades darker than the stone further up. Though he isn't looking at either of them at the moment, he's aware of their gazes on him.

Geralt's curiosity is quiet, like an invitation that waits to be read. Jaskier's every thought is given voice with barely any hesitation. They're a fair match. At Geralt's words Cid huffs, one of those not-quite laughs. ] I doubt that.

[ Hands suitably clean, Cid reaches for a pirogi, meeting Jaskier's gaze as he does. ] Alright, let's have a trade — [ He shifts to Geralt. ] The three of us. Show me yours, and I'll show you about mine, eh?

[cointosser]

Few do. [Except his response is with a laugh, and is not sarcastic. With that, Jaskier ducks his head under the water, scrubbing vigorously. More sweat than dirt -- he's hardly been working on repairs himself -- but he's found that although he has accepted the new addition of feathers among his hair and down his back, they itch like a bastard when he gets hot.

He scratches his back with the edge of the bath, giving a little sigh. Whew. Now he understands why Mog likes being scratched on his feathered half so godsdamn much. If only he had some of that rosemary soap of his... he should have thought to stock it here.]

You doubt it? Well, dear friend, I have found over the years that every person has a story to tell. And I can make the most boring one sound like an epic. [Now he's alight, as if that was a challenge. If Cid is anything like Geralt -- and he's seeing similarities -- he's downplaying his interesting stories for the sake of avoiding talk.

A shame.]

A bit unfair when I know the stories behind all of Geralt's, and you both have me beaten in numbers... but I hardly turn down a challenge. This one, I expect, is the only interesting one. [He moves from the side of the bath to Cid's side, offering out his left arm. The scars catch even the low light here, shiny.] When I first came here, I was practising magic. Attempted something far beyond my ken, and it backfired. Rather explosively. [He smiles. Ciri's fault, really, but he's the one who encouraged it. Now it's almost fond, the memory.] I've been told it was akin to being struck by lightning, if lightning blew a man's skin off. Suppose it looks a bit like it. [What with the zigzag of scars.] Almost bled to death. Not the most fun weekend I've spent in Cadens, I'll be honest.

[gynvael]

[ He's tempted to let Jaskier explain whatever scar of the Witcher's he wants, too. Instead, he listens to Jaskier's story and contemplates.

Feels like a lifetime ago. They still lived in their little upstairs room then. He'd shown up at Sam's door with Jaskier bleeding and Ciri frantic. Only by sheer luck did they have the healing vial stolen all the way from Thorne. He knows Ciri still feels responsible. It remains near impossible to convince her to return to training her magic, and Geralt cannot wholly blame her. The most he's managed to teach her are his Signs. Anything more, she's reluctant to attempt.

When Jaskier's gaze lands on him, he cracks open his eyes. His turn, is it?

Geralt sighs. A storyteller, he is not. But he is, despite himself, willing to indulge this proposal. Between the marks on his chest and arms, and the multitude that litter his back—no shortage to choose from.

He gestures to an old one: the claws that rake over his throat and shoulder, faded to a light pink. Healing that one had been a shit time. ]

A princess. She was condemned a monster.

[ ...

That's his tale. Yes. It's actually more detail than he's given in the past. ]

[judgmentbolts]

You can tell some of Geralt's if you run short. He's got enough for the two of us. [ Cid finishes a pirogi in a couple of bites while Jaskier speaks. For all his lack of appetite, it's sublime... and even more strange to think that Jaskier had just conjured it out of thin air, with no apparent cost.

He licks a bit of potato from his fingers and then dips his hands into the water again, before he takes a hold of Jaskier's wrist — gently enough that he can easily shift his hand away. He silently amends his previous thought. The magic has no current cost. Perhaps the cost of Abraxas' magic is more to do with learning how to wield it. ] It does look like that. A lesson not soon forgotten, I'd wager. Here — [ He shifts his other hand over, holding Jaskier's forearm, and presses his thumb against the scar tissue, massaging over it, up toward his hand. If Jaskier tries to shift away, Cid will easily let him go. ] A friend of mine is a healer. If you massage it often, the skin won't feel as tight. Perhaps you know already, but if not — might be a useful thing for a bard.

[ It doesn't stop him from looking over at Geralt as he tells his own tale — what little of it there is. Even the placement of the scar is its own story. What little there is that must get under Geralt's not inconsiderable guard. ] And you earned it after telling the poor girl a bedtime story six words long?

[ He's not sure that Geralt will tell him the rest of it, but it's worth trying. Everything the man says just leads him to more questions. Of course, he has to find his own sorry tale to tell now... ]

Most of mine, I don't rightly remember. Wolves and wyverns, the wrong end of a blade, that sort of thing. [ He releases Jaskier's hand long enough to tap a jagged scar on the left side of his chest. The very edge of it is just starting to be consumed by a patch of stone. ] Thought I'd do a little trespassing, have a look about a crystal mine — the dragon they'd set to guard it, he didn't much like that. Put me through a wall. So much for hospitality, eh?

[cointosser]

[He's going to have to, the shit way Geralt tells his stories. As he continues the trend now, embarrassing Jaskier further in front of his sexy new friend.

Who is... oh. He swallows. Jaskier, distinctively, does not shift away. You know how rare it is to meet a man who isn't shy about intimate touches in a bath? Gods, its' a million to one.] Oh. That's lovely.

[Yes, keep doing that.] Never forgotten, from what I recall.

[Not in the future-not-future, to be sure. He'd been careful with his magic even then -- and its consequences. It's why he never took a human life, and in some cases, purposefully saved them.

Jaskier rolls his eyes at Geralt's retelling, if one can even call it that.] you're lucky you got six words. He failed to mention she was, technically, a monster. At the time. But she got better because Geralt took that wound.

[The sort of thing a proper knight would do, though there is not a chance in hell Geralt would see it that way.

He's quiet for Cid's story (still biting his lip over the warm pleasure of a gentle massage, and mourning it when it's gone), but his eyes light up at that word. Dragon. To this day, he's never seen a proper one.] You ran into a fucking dragon? And you didn't think I'd want to sing about you? Are you insane? How on earth did you survive that?

[gynvael]

[ His lips quirk at Cid's remark, but he adds nothing further. Jaskier is his bard for a reason, and all stories to be told are gathered in the poet's repertoire. The details are far from accurate, but Geralt has long ceased taking exception to it. As if his grumbling has ever stopped Jaskier.

There is no song about Princess Adda, however. Jaskier did not write one and Geralt is not surprised that is so. It is not the sort of tale made for banquets and taverns audiences to sing along to. In truth, he doesn't know if she got better. After Triss sent her to the temple in Ellander...he didn't ask. It seemed kinder to close that chapter. He fulfilled his contract. He got paid. He moved on. (He likes to think she's living the life she should've had, but a part of him knows it's rarely that easy.)

He hums, hanging onto the bottle of wine while Jaskier's hands are occupied with Cid's. ] I didn't take you for a treasure hunter.

[ The spark of interest as he look at Cid belies his casual remark. He is, like Jaskier, forever intrigued by dragons in other spheres. They're practically extinct on the Continent, but in others...in others, they seem abundant. He wonders whether that's true of Cid's world, as well. He knows of the wyvern's Dion spoke of, but wyverns are not dragons. There's a difference. ]

[judgmentbolts]

[ Some might argue that Cid has never been shy about anything. He's had a lifetime spent in close quarters amongst soldiers, and then people for whom privacy was low on the list of immediate concerns. What's new for him is how easily and openly Jaskier responds. To say that Cid's keen interest is at all scholarly would be a lie. He would definitely like to hear Jaskier sing.

Of course, he's got no intention of doing anything foolish in a public bath.

He does keep on, working his way up Jaskier's arm with no apparent urgency. If there's any gardening grit still stuck to the skin, he washes it off before he continues.

The details of the story leave him with more questions than even Geralt's retelling. That Geralt had taken a wound to help her doesn't surprise him in the least, nor does the fact that Geralt had neglected to mention that specific detail. How many of those marks were a price he paid for someone else? Cid glances at him. ]

I wasn't interested in taking anything. I was just having a look. 'Dragon's the one who started making assumptions about it. [ He flashes another cheeky little grin, then turns back to Jaskier. ] He showed me the door, so I left. Not much more to it.

[ Cid has now moved all the way up to Jaskier's hand, working over his wrist an the heel of his palm. He raises his eyebrows. ] And anyway, am I supposed to be following this story about the princess? Him, I expect. You've got a reputation — or so I'm told. You're not distracted, are you? I can stop.

[cointosser]

[In Jaskier's estimation, being human again is "getting better", but in fairness, he doesn't know much more of the story beyond what Geralt told him and from what he could piece together himself.

But if you ask him now, he's getting far too distracted to remember those details he did piece together. Legends of striga, tales of a kingdom once tormented by a monster. The things that stick in the vocal histories more than the written ones -- usually tales of horror, considering the Continent.

Jaskier lets out a stilted breath. It feels like all the parts of his arm he's forgotten to recall feeling in are lighting up like flames.]

I'm getting a bit distracted, to be honest. But if you stop, I may have to kill you. [And he's enjoying it far too much.] We call them striga. Someone cursed to be born a monster. And so she was one. When I was a lad, I'd heard nothing about curing them, only killing them. We deal with most problems on the Continent in that way. But my illustrious muse here found his way, because there's certainly a princess that came out of it when there was only a monster previously.

[Perhaps that even Jaskier lacks details himself may indicate how there is a limit to the questioning, or his retelling. That Geralt chose that story says more of what he thinks of Cid than anything else.] You know, you can't swindle a storyteller. I'm certain there's portions to your dragon story you're not letting us onto, either. Did it at least tell you to fuck off?

[gynvael]

[ It seems the way to get Geralt to talk is to begin speaking of the monsters themselves than anything about Geralt. ]

Every curse can be lifted. It's only a matter of what it takes.

[ That's the tenet by which he was taught. For each curse, there's a cure. What that may require is a different question entirely. For some, it might be a price so high that it isn't much of a cure at all. And for one released from the hold of a striga, there's always a chance of reverting. Though he suspects the temple must've found precautions for that. ]

Strigas are always female, and rare. Princess Adda was the first I encountered who was cursed before she was born. After her mother died with child, it gestated inside her.

[ Until she finally emerged, feasting on the full moon. Little wonder the villagers mistook it for a vukodlak.

Geralt does not elaborate on the role he played nor what happened to him afterwards. He took care of the problem. Then he left. The rest of it—Renfri, Triss, the ruinous poison of jealous men—what difference does it make to the tale? (A lot. He supposes he knows that, technically, but he still has no desire to delve into it.)

He's more intrigued by Cid's own truncated story. As Jaskier said—there must be more to it than having a look. ]

[judgmentbolts]

[ Cid's only response to the threat is to flash him an utterly unrepentant grin that might as well be an invitation. He doesn't stop, though he does drop the pretense, helping himself to Jaskier's other hand to continue on.

Jaskier's description gives him the broad strokes of the story, and Geralt, surprisingly, is the one who fills in the details of the girl-turned-beast. He doesn't seem to mind speaking of his area of expertise. ]

Princess Adda, eh? I hope she's still managing alright, poor lass. [ He glances at Geralt. ] You're just as soft as before, even without your fuzzy coat.

[ Despite the teasing, Cid's expression is fond in the brief moment before he turns away again, pretending that he needs to see what he's doing with Jaskier's hand. ]

Can't be sure that this dragon knows how to swear, he's wound so tight. [ Cid pauses. ] He's alright, despite the love tap he left me with. He wants to do right, I think -- just hasn't quite found his way as yet.

At any rate, a bit of mystery is good for you. If you want the rest of it, you'll have to finish this interrogation somewhere less public. And speaking of swindlers... it's your turn next, isn't it?

[cointosser]

[Oh, thank god. Geralt finally spoke up. Gave the details that Jaskier wasn't quite sure of... or the ones he didn't want to. He doesn't need to know every single detail to know that this one got personal.

Though Geralt is known to take things personally. Especially injustice; the bastard would never admit it.

Cid sees it, though. He can't help it; it makes Jaskier fonder of him already. As if he wasn't from the expert hand massage, the handsome face, and his fondness for orphans. Gods, he's a sucker.

He snorts.] I've never met a dragon with a human moral code. Though, thanks to the Witcher, I've never seen a bloody dragon. Oh, I know -- I can tell you of our dragon hunt, and how Geralt left me to go see the creature without me. You know, me. His bard. Not even one of the fucking dwarfs woke me up, and when I arrived, I was tripping over a bunch of charred bodies. Which I think is fair, when one's trying to kill a dragon... or steal its egg.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt squints at Cid. Something about his answer...it speaks of an unexpected familiarity for a dragon he supposedly met once in a cave and fled from. His look lasts for a good several seconds, though no question comes of it. For now.

(Dion, he thinks, had quite the fondness for dragons, too.)

He sighs instead, closing his eyes both in exasperation and to rest. ]

You met Villentretenmerth. We spent days with him. He just wasn't shaped like a dragon.

[ He doesn't bring up what happened afterwards. That's. Complicated. And that is personal, actually. ]