[ CATCH-ALL ] i'm allied to the winter

[wiedzminka]

Who: Ciri, Geralt, Rinwell, Jaskier, and others
What: Catch-all for February plans
Where: Cadens, the desert on the road to Aquila, Horizon
When: throughout February
Warnings: will add as needed. probably violence. spoilers for season 2 of the witcher!

Closed headers below, but open for plotting! Hit me up if you'd like a starter. Feel free to PM Ciri's journal or catch me on Plurk at belleteyn

Comments

for rinwell; mid january.

[wiedzminka]

[ It's luck, mostly. But Ciri can't say she wasn't looking for a reason to leave too, to go somewhere far enough that it might help her clear her head, that maybe sleeping under the stars will chase away at least some of the nightmares. When one of her regular customers asks to hire her as muscle for his wagon on the way to Aquila, Ciri readily -- eagerly -- accepts.

After some thought, the night before she leaves, she decides to invite Rinwell along.

The girl has been antsy since the festival, and for good reason; with anti-mage sentiment simmering hotter since Eifstide and the ill-advised rallies around the prime minister's office pushing tensions higher, the city must feel stifling for someone as connected to magic as Rinwell. They could both use an escape. Besides, Ciri knows that Rinwell has been trying her hardest to earn her keep, and she respects that. She knows how to handle herself on a horse now too, more or less. The trip is on a main road, and Ciri is being hired more as an extra precaution to scare away bandits than because there is a great expectation for danger along the path.

I know you can handle it, Ciri had told Rinwell as they'd strapped their saddlebags onto the horses in the pre-dawn morning. She'd smiled encouragingly, placing a hand on Rinwell's shoulder. And then, she'd given Rinwell a dagger-- her own, the first one she'd bought in this city after escaping from Thorne, before Geralt had gifted her with the silver wolf's head blade that she never parts with now.

The trip out toward Aquila is uneventful the first couple of nights. The days are warm, but not blistering; the nights are cold, nearly freezing, but they huddle near the fire and sleep under warm blankets, and it's not so bad in Ciri's experience. Besides the merchant and his apprentice, it is just the two of them, along with a large wagon pulled by four mules, with two more tied behind hitched to an extra cart for additional merchandise. They are a slow and burdensome procession, but the merchant is an amicable fellow, rail-thin and wiry with a curled moustache so well-kept it's clearly his pride and joy. He's chatty enough to be pleasant, but not so much as to be a bother. The apprentice, a lanky teenager, keeps to himself. Plenty of food (and drink) is provided. All in all, it's a cushy way to earn some decent coin.

Ciri is settled by the fire one night with a bowl of stew and a mug of wine, about halfway to the city. A few more days until they get there, and then they'll likely stay about as long until the merchant's done with his business before heading back. She sips from her bowl, staring into the fire, aware of the familiar footsteps crunching behind her. ]

Do we have enough firewood?

[ She asks without looking back. The term firewood is a bit of a misnomer; there are some skinny trees out here, but most of their fodder comes from the myriad of dry, brittle bushes and shrubs that litter the landscape, making easy kindling for the thicker logs the merchant had brought along for that purpose. ]

[rinwell]

[ She'd been mulling over what Geralt had told her, light finally shed on the strange shift within the household that had taken her in and made her one of their own in short order. But the moment Ciri had extended an offer to join her, to leave the city, Rinwell hadn't had to think twice about it.

Last minute or not, evidently experience with time on the road hadn't been forgotten, as she's already packed and ready for inspection by the time the older girl is ready to herd her out the door. Away from the rising city tensions, and away from the ringleader. Hard to miss, even harder to resist dropping a lightning bolt on his head. (But that would only prove his point, wouldn't it?)

But it is a chance to show what she can do, beyond simply keeping house and keeping horse - though the latter is incredibly useful here, too. Ciri shows her how to tether horses in the open, allowing for grazing without risk of escape, staying in reach; tricks for handling tacking up quickly and securing saddlebags. In some respects, Rinwell is her apprentice, and the younger mage is pretty proud of her progress by the time night comes half way into the trip.

Her legs are beginning to feel the saddle soreness, though. No one warned her about that.

There's a soft warble before Hootle flaps slowly and takes up a perch on the log next to Ciri, resettling his feathers once on his seat. Behind them, there's a soft snort - human, not equine. ]

I think most of what's left of the grassland and scrub around here could be classified as that. I'd heard desert things were more inclined to grow in winter, but you'd never know it here.

[ A deeper fire pit is essential, for sure; the risk of flames leaping from the burning pile that trigger a more dangerous blaze is the last thing any of them need. But they are at least prepared if they need to restart the fire: Rinwell very carefully places her burden on the diminished pile the apprentice had started after they'd first stopped for the night.

She runs her thumb over the leather wrapped hilt of the dagger she's inherited, before moving to join Ciri at the fire. ]

All clear, otherwise. The only other tracks I could find around the camp are several days old. If there are any zeugles nearby, they're quite a distance away.

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri gives Rinwell a bit of an askance look. Zeugles, to her knowledge, live in filthy water and among garbage, as long as there's moisture. Not exactly the kind of creature she expects to encounter in the desert. ]

More worried about basilisks than zeugles. But I think we're safe in that regard as well, unless some wander far from their nests.

[ She'd kept an eye out earlier and done a thorough sweep before they made camp. Basilisks don't usually nest so close to the road, in any case.

She nods to the pot on the fire, already moving to grab Rinwell a bowl even as she asks. ]

Hungry? I'll ladle you some.

[rinwell]

[ The askance look gets one in return. A zeugle is a zeugle is a zeugle - she'll have to remember the catch-all term for the man-made monstrosities isn't one shared off of Dahna. ]

It's been pretty quiet on this trip so far. I think we can count our blessings on that one for sure. And yes please!

[ Are teenagers ever not hungry? Well, perhaps she's not as voraciously hungry as some boys she could think of, but Rinwell knows better than to turn down a meal. She's had an empty stomach more often in life than she cares to count, and once she's happy that her firewood is secured and unlikely to be lit up by a stray spark from the main fire pit, she parks herself next to Ciri eagerly. ]

So how many more days travel, do you think?

[wiedzminka]

Hey, don't invite trouble with talk like that.

[ Ciri chides, though it's mostly in jest. She doesn't actually follow any superstition like that-- it's just that trouble tends to find her regardless. By the time Rinwell settles down beside her, Ciri's got a full bowl for her. She hands it over, along with a crust of bread. ]

Hm. Four, by my most optimistic estimate. If we keep moving at this clip. Longer if they want to stop anywhere on the way.

[ There are a few supply outposts and tiny villages (if they can be called that) set up along this main road, since the distance between the actual cities is great and people often travel between them. Someone has to run the inns and taverns, provide lodgings and food for the horses and oxen. ]

Though I think he plans to sell more stock on the way back, after picking up whatever it is he wants from Aquila.

[ Having finished her stew, Ciri sets the bowl aside and leans back, propped against the bags piled behind her. She drinks, then hands the mug to Rinwell in a wordless offer. ]

So. Enjoying the trip so far?

[rinwell]

Not even a little trouble?

[ There's a happy sigh as Rinwell sinks down and accepts the food with an eagerness only born from travel on the road. The bread is immediately torn in half, one part dipped in to enjoy the drippings, while the other half is saved for mopping up when she's done. ]

That's not too bad. The last time I looked at the map, it looked like it might take longer. And it makes sense he'd want to sell on the return journey. I bet a lot of people out this way don't get to see a lot of town goods.

[ It's not long before she's digging into the stew proper, and there's a hasty slurp and nod in response to that latter question.

She's missed this, if she's honest. Something Rinwell never thought she'd feel, and while it's not the family from home who she'd begun to bond with, both Ciri and their escort npcs charges have treated her like an adult who knows what she's doing - and she's needed that. Rinwell hadn't realised how much the knowing smirks of 'adults who knew better' had gotten her feeling down, never mind the shift in attitudes lately towards magic. ]

Yeah. [she swallows her mouthful, then nods enthusiastically.] I'd gotten so used to Cadens, I'd almost forgotten this place is known as the Free Cities for a reason.

[wiedzminka]

[ Ciri laughs, watching her with unmistakable fondness. She settles back, tugging a blanket over her lap and lifting a corner, a wordless invitation if Rinwell wants to scoot closer and get under it too. The temperatures drop quickly in the desert at night. ]

Cadens by itself is so big, it's easy to forget.

I still haven't even been to Libertas. Maybe we should go sometime. If you're not sick of me by then.

[ She teases, nudging Rinwell with her leg. Ciri's never had a sister, but maybe it would feel a little bit like this. ]