EVENT #10: AFFLICTION - IC POST

[abraxasmods]

Event #10 - Affliction

go to the OOC event info & plotting post

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With tensions heavy across Abraxas and all the destruction that's happened, it's no surprise that the dark shadows which sweep over the land go unnoticed...at first.

Winds initially stir in Solvunn, where the influence of the Old Gods remains the strongest. Slowly each Herald infects Thorne and the Free Cities, as well. The Summoned are the first to feel its effects and are the most heavily impacted.

Though no one will realize it until well afterwards, Nocwich remains unaffected. After all, the Summoned don't reside there.

NOTE: This event will deal with themes of death (people and animal) and horror imagery.

Emergence

It begins sometime in mid-October, around the 18th. Not everyone will experience it at the same time. You might even believe you're spared until days afterwards when you're visited by an unusually vivid dream.

The dream starts the same for everyone: you are going somewhere, anywhere, walking to your bedroom or enjoying a stroll on the beach. You might be driving down a familiar neighborhood. Wherever you're headed, you eventually come upon a stone tablet engraved with your Arcana. Laid on the tablet are three objects:

◎ A dead moth trapped inside a wilted rose, symbolizing Koth of Festering Lands
◎ A teacup inside which sits a single nightshade berry, symbolizing Adlewyrd of Poisoned Tongues
◎ An ornate cracked hand mirror that contains no reflection, symbolizing Sannleikr of Many Faces

Make a choice. Something inside your soul will be drawn towards one of the objects. Maybe you spend hours in the dream deliberating, but sooner or later, you'll pick one of the items up. The moment you do, the other objects vanish and the chosen Herald appears before you. Where one might expect a god to seek subservience, the strange figure instead extends a friendly hand towards you - as though it's greeting you as an equal.

Whispered around you, you hear its name. Then it fades and with it the dream. You awaken.

Affliction

You go about your day as usual. That's when you realize something isn't right. Creatures and people around you behave strangely. You begin to sense that you are the cause.

Depending on your chosen Herald, you'll experience at least one of its afflictions. The effects might start small, then grow. They might rush you all at once. You can't shake what haunts you, though you can try. Spells, potions, and willpower can help keep the afflictions at bay but you won't ever be completely free.

As the afflictions seep into your mind, you start to find shadows of it following you: a dead moth here, a nightshade bloom there, a cracked mirror elsewhere. You may even wonder if it's following you in the first place. What if instead, you are the one leaving these signs behind?

Corruption

The first time you inflict your ability on someone else, you don't mean to. It might be a stranger, some unsuspecting soul, or it might be another Summoned. Regardless, the afflictions that ail you seem to spread through you into another. Someone falls down as if in the throes of an invisible death or secrets spill. You brush by someone and they're suddenly upset and confused.

The more this happens, intentionally or not, the better you feel. You may grow full of life and energy, gain a renewed strength of heart, or radiate a charm that turns heads and garners compliments. The afflictions haunting you could even start to fade or completely vanish. And if you use your newfound power deliberately? You'll feel better even faster for longer. Of course, these boons are temporary, lasting at most an hour or so. When the feeling wanes, you might miss having it.

You are not possessed. You can't control this power that spreads through you, but how you respond or behave is up to you. You could be attracted to the allure of power, enjoy the boons you are granted, or realize you can gain relief from your afflictions if you choose a victim. Not everyone will fall headfirst into the pull. Some are not easily swayed by power, some struggle to overcome their dark impulses, and others would rather endure their suffering than inflict it on someone else. But others still might succumb to temptation and turn on those around them with purpose: once, twice, multiple times. The choice you make is yours alone.

Blight

With the call of the Herald at your fingertips, the world around you twists. No one knows whether this stems from you and your newly imbued afflictions, or if the Heralds are exerting power on their own. It's for sure easier to think of what occurs as the influence of something monstrous beyond your control. No matter the cause, the earth is changed all the same.

Omens

The omens arrive shortly after the initial Summoned receive their dreams, but they don't come to every faction at once. SOLVUNN is first, being home to the Old Gods' shrines, before THORNE and the FREE CITIES follow only days afterwards. Depending on where you are, the omens will affect things a bit differently.

Solvunn

In Solvunn, the ground stirs. A desiccated hand breaks through the grass, a cloven hoof. Human or animal, they crawl forth, animated against their will. Some might attack, but most do not. At the same time, crops around the settlements begin to fail. Some chickens lay rotten eggs while cows produce spoiled milk. Any livestock that perishes overnight will surface in the mornings with empty eye sockets - pecked out by crows or gnawed on by rats. From a distance, the ocean can be seen bubbling as leviathans beneath thrash.

Worth noting is that many of the dead are concentrated around the shrines, especially the ones deep in the woods. They're too decayed to recognize, and some might not even move from the site, as though they are waiting for the earth to take them again...or as though they once chose to give up their life at this very spot.

Summoned can assist by helping to cast spells or place warding charms around shrines, farms, and gardens to protect crops and livestock. As a commune, the Solvunnites will share their resources as much as possible and would appreciate those who might lend a hand bringing supplies, herbs, and offerings to neighbors who are lacking. The Summoned can also brew a common herbal remedy to aid any animals who have fallen ill or to help purify the well water.

Free Cities

In Libertas, the dead buried under the rubble dig themselves out. More crawl forth from graves in Cadens' cemeteries. Beasts and bandits slain in the desert wilds rise, hungry or searching for the ones who killed them. At the same time, dead fish wash up onto the shores of Aquila while birds fall dead from their perch, dropping like flies from an unknown illness. Vultures and other scavengers begin to prey upon the eyes of the dead, leaving behind hollowed-out corpses.

Worth noting is that in the Badlands, a few very old and skeletal corpses rise with a metal plate or two screwed onto their bones, which are also oddly elongated. Only one or two make their way near the city. The army is quick to dispose of them before many can notice. They will not disclose any information about this and will claim these are just monsters like anything else.

Summoned can assist by going on patrol with the soldiers to put down any risen dead. Merchant caravans are also hiring escorts for their journeys. Additionally, they can help look through any received supplies and packages to make sure the food isn't rotting or worse, use a special dissolving compound to purify the waters, and donate staple food items to refugees and the less fortunate who can't afford the rising prices.

Thorne

In Thorne, the dead emerge only from the outskirts of the castle city. Thanks to information from one of their Summoned and their recent monitoring of the Singularity, Thorne was able to act swiftly and was able to ward any royal or otherwise significant burial sites. Graves and tombs of less importance, though, will not be protected in the same way. There are fewer encounters with eyeless corpses, though some animals might appear outside the castle in such a state. Normally extravagant dishes from the Castle's kitchens use simpler ingredients as they struggle to ration their food stores.

Worth noting is that a few unexpected corpses make their way up from deep under the castle in places beyond the dungeons. These are twisted and mangled, missing limbs, heads, fingers. The castle guards are quick to dispose of them before they get too far into the rest of the castle, but one or two may be spotted.

Summoned can assist by contributing to the wards around Castle Thorne and the city, using spells to put down the dead without mangling the corpse, and taking inventory of food stores. Further, in Nott the situation is more dire for anyone who is traveling there to continue assisting with repairs following the attack. Nott will welcome help with any problems caused by the omens. It'll be clear the kingdom has neglected the city somewhat. Thorne will claim the Castle takes priority, of course, due to King and Queen residing there along with the entire royal court.

Apprehensions

Across the factions, locals are beginning to catch on that something isn't right with you, the Summoned. No one will say it outright, but there's an air of caution and wariness around you where you go. Merchants might be quick to hand you your wares so you'll leave or locals give you a bit of space when they walk by. Chatty innkeepers are more reluctant to hold lengthy conversations.

Much of the time, it may not be conscious. The natives might simply sense something off that instinctually makes them want to put some distance between them and you. The only exception? If you've chosen Sannleikr of Many Faces, you'll continue to exude your charm towards people you encounter. At least for as long as you continue to inflict that ability you've been gifted.

Displacement

Everyone responds differently while in the Horizon. You might exert better willpower over your afflictions or you might feel its effects more strongly. It all depends on the individual and their mindset. Regardless, the Heralds are only one part of the equation. There's a much bigger disturbance going on.

It could happen as soon as you enter or it might be as you're stepping over the threshold into another's domain. Whatever the case, you are suddenly not where you're supposed to be. Instead, you're in one of two places depending: transported into a domain you never meant to go into or in a foreign setting altogether.

Visitation

Whether you're the one transported or someone teleports unexpectedly into your space, the Horizon becomes unpredictable for the next little while. Rooms normally locked to strangers, areas you yourself may not even realize exists - you and your fellow Summoned continue to pop in and out despite your intentions.

The effect isn't painful, just disorienting, like missing a step you didn't see or stumbling through a door into a too-bright room. The person whose domain you've inadvertently visited might sense an unwanted presence, whether they're inside the Horizon or not, or they may be completely oblivious. This will depend on the strength of their connection to the Singularity and the Horizon.

Not to worry. You won't be trapped or anything in these cases...unless the domain you land in happens to seal from the inside. You might stumble on secrets you weren't meant to find, though, locked away in someone else's mind.

Ensnared

The less fortunate will be pulled into a space that they've never encountered before. The bizarreness of it resembles the glitchy visions that flashed through a few months ago, but rather than an image flickering by, you are now inside the space itself.

Trapped between minutes to hours, you can't use the Horizon's creation magic as normal. Attempts will falter or go sideways: trying to fly out might cause you to tumble, tools and objects are broken or not quite right, wounds don't vanish or heal completely, etc. More significantly, you can't seem to send or receive messages through your connection. Anything that manages to come through will be garbled and distorted. It's as though the place you are in is just out of the reach of your control.

Luckily, you may not be alone. Someone else may have gotten lost alongside you. They might already be there when you stumble through or they might arrive after you do. They might even fade out sooner than you, unintentionally leaving you behind.

Eventually, you'll be released back into the Horizon proper, spat out in a random place in the Horizon. While you're stuck, though, you can try to survive, explore, sit and wait it out, or make friends with your fellow trapped partner. Each area has its challenges and quirks that you'll need to deal with.

Scenes to Explore

JUSTICE ◎
FULL IMAGE

High in the clouds, these snowy peaks are as cold as they look. Giant marble hands reach out, though their sheer scale means you might not recognize them as hands from up close. You can scale the mountain, but if you try to go down, the hands will flip the mountain, which sends you tumbling to the top again.

It's up to you whether you can be injured when you fall. Maybe the snow will feel like marshmallows, or you'll break a bone on the jagged rocks. No two experiences are the same. If you have a partner, they could end up faring better than you despite being in the same place.

Conjure some warm clothes or a log cabin even if you wish - they might not manifest perfectly, but it'll be better than nothing. At least the view's fairly nice...while the sun is up. A blizzard will come through by nightfall. With it arrives a strange hovering light that entices you or your friend to follow it into the frozen darkness. What draws you out depends on you. It could be a familiar voice, an image, or a simple compulsion. If you're lucky, the person with you is unaffected and can try to stop you. Or maybe you're the one desperately chasing after the other person?

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THE CHARIOT ◎
FULL IMAGE

From a distance, it's hard to tell if they're shipping containers or houses stacked atop each other. A gooey mess covers the ground below. Oddly, the smell isn't as unpleasant as the goo looks. It smells like bubblegum or cotton candy, artificial and sweet. When you first fall in, you might land inside one of the homes, on top of the stacked structure, or the ground. You can try to reach anyone else who's there with you, but be careful: the ooze is spreading. Climb if you must or move from room to room. If you don't keep moving, you risk getting sucked into its sticky mass.

Each block of a home is different. Some are furnished, whereas others are empty or filled with strange knickknacks. Some might even have subconscious creations spawned by you. Keep ahead of the gloopy substance, and you'll be fine, probably. Or you can try to fight it back or block its path by sealing yourself in a room or otherwise, which can slow it down significantly. Mostly, you'll have to hope you fade out before the pink mass completely consumes the landscape.

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THE WORLD ◎
FULL IMAGE

The hazy neon glow obscures a nothingness that seems to extend forever. In the middle of the wet ground are several stacked television sets with wires plugged into nothing. Inexplicably, there's also a cat. At first, it appears perfectly normal, but keen observers will notice that its behavior is on a loop where it will walk a certain path, pause at specific intervals to lick its paws, and meow at set points. It does not acknowledge any of its intruders. You can break its loop by picking it up, at which point it'll go limp as a ragdoll. As soon as you set it down, it'll resume its actions as before.

While you can see the same images as someone else on the screens, it's also possible you'll each see something different despite being in the room together. What you see is up to you. It could be an old fuzzy movie, home videos of your childhood, trivia questions you have to answer correctly, or even a memory or vision you wouldn't want to share. Words or faces taunting you could appear between staticky flickers, or maybe your very thoughts are projected onto the screens for anyone with you to read.

Break the televisions if you want, but given a few short minutes, they'll reform between one blink and the next. Looks like you'll have to keep watching until you're released.

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THE FOOL ◎
FULL IMAGE

Sprawling and massive, you're unlikely to recognize at first that you're trapped in a labyrinth. Stone walls rise around you, and your surroundings are pitchblack. Manifest a torch or a flashlight if you can, though these will be prone to going out at inopportune times. Escaping over the walls will only send you into another section in the maze.

As you navigate the twisting corridors, you'll encounter any variety of trials and troubles: gaps in the ground, spiked traps, haunting whispers, monsters, decaying corpses. Some of these might've formed from your mind, others might've spawned from anyone else who's trapped with you.

If you aren't alone, do your best to locate your fellow Summoned. Voices do carry and echo over the walls, and there could be landmarks that help you find each other. Finding the exit, however, is another matter. Walk and climb all you want. A way out is impossible until the Horizon chooses to set you free.

Players can pick any scenario that interests them from the four choices above. Unlike the visions from before, characters can accidentally be trapped in as many of the scenes as you want, as many times as you want. Another option is that they can stay trapped in only one scene while a variety of characters fade in and out to join them, or some combination of the two. Choose what works best for your plans.

Each scene will once again carry an associated Arcana etched somewhere inside it, which can change from person to person or instance to instance. It might be on a wall, a table, or on the ground. Characters with a stronger connection to the Horizon are likely to be trapped for longer but the extent of this is your choice and it won't ever exceed a few hours. It's also your choice whether the afflictions continue to haunt them or not. If you want characters to deal with both problems while stuck together, you're welcome to!

Generally speaking, there are no restrictions other than that they won't be able to communicate with anyone outside the area, they can't escape it until the Horizon chooses to release them, and their creation magic will go wrong just enough that it'll make things tricky.

Comments

OTA: horizon

[gynvael]

I. Guests
(( cw: gore, violence, trauma of all kinds, childhood horrors, other usual witcher stuff ))

[ Normally, Geralt gives little thought to the few times he can sense someone in his domain. The tug of that cord that stretches. In part, he prefers to ignore that constant connection. For another, he simply doesn't give a fuck. If anyone's looking for him urgently, they can send a damn message.

This time, it's different. Uncomfortable. Like someone digging under his nails, inside his head. Maybe it's just his imagination. Maybe it's the fact that he's been feeling off since that fucking dream that wasn't a dream. A prickling over his skin, deep in his blood, that drags old memories and wounds to the surface he's long thought buried.

If you're unlucky enough to land unexpectedly in his domain, you're bound to run into the twisted oddities that've taken over Geralt's place.

1. the exterior: a blizzard blows through the open yard. The winds are biting, harsh. Dark red stains bloom over the snow where the skeletons lay buried. There's no trail. It's everywhere, as though carnage has freshly swept through the place.
   
   Typically calm and watchful, the white wolf that prowls his mountain has grown erratic. In the past few days, it can often be seen feasting on a messy kill, muzzle stained in blood. A deer, probably. Or if you look closely, you might glimpse the familiar shape of a human limb. If you're a stranger—especially one that looks like a threat—the wolf will pounce.
   
   Around the walls of Kaer Morhen and along the snowy ground, vine-like tendrils creep and trail. The creature it belongs to is rare if impossible to spot, but its reaching branches make itself known as it slithers. Walk too close or pay too little attention, and you're liable to be grabbed: snatching at your hair, wrapping around your limbs, or even binding you in place.



2. the interior: the halls of Kaer Morhen are locked, but anyone has a chance to slip past those locks by transporting straight inside. The fires are lit, but the corridors are devoid of warmth. The place looks far more dilapidated than usual: broken benches, spilled bowls, blood staining the floors.
   
   The medallion tree remains standing, though barely. The sealed split up the middle has splintered, a fissure that threatens to tear it in half once more. The vines can be found inside the walls, too. They curl around chairs, braziers, torches, twitching and shifting.
   
   And if you walk by a set of stairs leading down, a muffled echo of screams drift from deep beneath the bowls of the keep. Don't go down. If you try, Geralt will appear to stop you, and he will not be polite about it.

II. Visiting

[ Geralt an also be found walking into the domains around the Horizon. Not wander—walk. He'll go right in and it'll seem he's searching for something, someone. If you ask, he might explain. Or he might not.

Now and again, he might just pop into yours like everyone's been doing. It's fucking annoying, which his expression will demonstrate clearly, and he'll search for a quick exit. Unless something about your domain makes it so he can't. ]

1. Domain Exterior

[philancer]

[ At first, Sylvain thinks he's teleported into the courtyard at the Monastery because the thick snowfall and biting wind blur everything except the faintest glimpse of stone walls, large gate, and the snow-covered forms of training equipment. But he's no sooner wondered why there's a blizzard in the Monastery before he realizes this is not the castle he's so deeply familiar with.

...The blizzard makes a little more sense then. Although he really hopes he hasn't somehow landed himself in someone else's Faerghus. That's the last thing he needs.

For some reason, it takes him a few tries to manage to manifest a cloak warm enough to block out the worst of the biting wind. Almost as if the Horizon isn't working quite right. Then again, he has no idea where he is so that assumption isn't a long shot. And he spends a moment to be mildly annoyed that the cloak that does finally appear looks far too much like Dimitri's which is something else he doesn't want to think about right now.

But with that taken care of, he turns to try and trudge through the snow toward the looming castle he can see across the courtyard. Only to promptly trip over a covered body and go sprawling into snow he now realizes is completely stained with blood. He freezes, his eyes wide with shock as he gives a low curse and glances around at the carnage. ]

Shit. What in the hells happened here?

[gynvael]

[ When Geralt appears, it is not from inside the keep. Instead, he rides up from behind on Roach, the white of his hair nearly vanishing into the thick snow. Despite the frozen air, Geralt is dressed in little more than a thin cloak, dusted in snow.

Yeah. The blizzard. Can't do anything about it. He's tried to fix the weather, and all that happened was the winds howled louder. In some ways, it isn't the worst. Keeps most people out which is ideal given...circumstances. ]

Accident with a rock troll. [ Deadpan. A hand is thrust into the stranger's face: an offer to help him up. ]

It isn't real. [ The blood he means. Nor anything in this damn place. He can't tell if the Horizon is shifting on its own through the Singularity or if he's doing it. Both, perhaps. ] Though I don't suggest you linger.

[ Kaer Morhen is rarely welcoming for strangers. Right now, it especially is not. Admittedly, the path down the mountain is difficult to see at the moment. ]

[philancer]

A... rock troll.

[ Does he want to know what that is? Probably not. It sounds terrible.

But he does accept the hand held out to him, staggering to his feet in the snow. The blizzard seems to actually be howling with even more fury around them now and he tugs his cloak a little tighter around him. The cold doesn't often bother him, but he's been in the desert for weeks now. The change is abrupt, to say the least. ]

I wasn't planning on being here at all, let alone lingering, but I have no idea where I am. .... Or how to stop being here, for that matter.

Wait. Is the rock thing still here? [ He casts a suspicious eye at those stone walls again. ]

[gynvael]

[ There's a moment where he eyes the man. In theory, it is the Horizon. One can leave any time. But...

Nothing's quite right lately. He sighs. Brings his horse to the stable. She may not be real, but she's real enough. He tries not to think about it, the strangeness of the Horizon, its creations. It is what it is.

The creak of branches and groaning trees slithers into the air. His brows knit together. Is the rock troll still here? Was it ever here? (It was not.) These are questions that go unanswered, ignored as they so often are by Geralt.

Instead, he turns towards the stone arch. Whatever that sound was, it seems to have unsettled him. ] Come inside.

[philancer]

[ Usually one can leave at any time. Then again, usually one lands precisely where they intended to land and it's clear nothing is usual right now. On the plus side, your castle isn't currently on fire so your Domain is having a way better day than Sylvain's right now.

He follows the man to the stables, leaning against the edge of one of the stalls, and glances around the interior. A place he feels more at home in than most, if he's honest. ]

Want a hand or anything? [ He offers - out of politeness, at least. Well, that and this is at least something he's familiar with. Better than buildings that stretch a hundred floors up to pierce the sky and ships that sail in the stars.

But he picks up the tension in the other man all the same, unable to help glancing over his shoulder at the creak and letting his gaze search the white landscape beyond. Everything looks deceptively still, but he knows better than to trust appearances. But it also means that he doesn't offer a protest when the man invites him inside. ]

Thank you. Once I figure out what this place is doing, I'll try and get out of your hair. Or the snow lets up. Whichever happens first. [ Although if this place is anything like Faerghus, he's going to bet on the former. ]

domain interior!

[satanicpanics]

[ This isn’t the first strange domain that Eddie has been dropped into. For awhile, it had been a nice reprieve from the whispers nagging at him and prodding at his guilt. The voices are quieter in the Horizon. Sometimes he can’t hear them at all, but the constant scene changes are beginning to weigh on him so heavily, he thinks he’d rather be back in Solvunn dealing with disgrace.

At least there’s been a slight stroke of luck here. He’s been dropped inside the halls of Kaer Morhen rather than outside, bypassing the blizzard, the wolf, and the grabby tendrils. The castle is far from welcoming, however, and Eddie wonders if it isn’t the same castle Steve described as “kind of boring” and “really cold”. It’s certainly cold, but “boring” isn’t the right word. It’s terrifying and if not for the lit braziers, he would assume the place had been abandoned after some sort of duel.

He gives a little yelp and shudders as he narrowly manages to tiptoe around a particularly large blood stain on the floor, and calls out hesitantly: ]

Hey, uh…If anyone’s around? I’m not trespassing in your big, creepy castle. I mean, I guess I am, but…sort of by accident?

[ He circles around the medallion tree, politely looking with his eyes and not his hands, and nearly trips over a vine when he hears the muffled scream from somewhere further in the keep. ]

Shit. Of course. Of course there's a freaky dungeon too. Why wouldn't there be?

[ He doesn’t want to, but those whispers keep nagging him for a lack of bravery, so he may as do something to shut them up, right? So after a long moment of hesitation, his teeth clenched, he begins to descend the stairs. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt has, for the most part, taken to his room for the duration of this bullshit. Lingering in Cadens in close proximity to others is a risk he'd rather not manage. And frankly, the soldiers can deal with the risen dead. They're hardly powerful monsters, and he's little desire to take up his sword when no one's paying him to protect the city walls. That's what the army is for.

So he does hear it, the instant the stranger entered the keep. He simply ignores it, waiting for whomever it may be to leave. He doesn't really want to explain the state of his domain. He's aware it's a problem.

They do not leave. He feels it, that spike that tells him when someone's wandered too close to the stairs.

It's difficult to say whether Geralt has walked or just appeared. His approach is near silent either way—until he speaks up from the edge of the steps above. ]

I don't recommend it.

[satanicpanics]

[ However Geralt managed to approach so quickly and so silently, it scares Eddie half to death. He jumps and utters a panicked “Jesus Christ!”, and nearly loses his footing on the stairs.

Part of him breathes a sigh of relief; no, he doesn’t recommend it either, and he certainly doesn’t believe he could outrun or overpower this man (who frankly may be the coolest looking human being he has ever seen in his life) but it’s hard to ignore when another scream drifts up from below. He glances between Geralt and the bottom of the stairs and back again, weighing his options.

In the end, he opts for a joke. ]

Pretty loud basement you’ve got there, man. You, uh, might wanna check for extraordinarily large vermin or something.

[gynvael]

[ His eyebrow lifts. Look, he isn't fond of folk nosing about, but he can tell the difference between someone looking for trouble and someone who's merely fucking lost.

Or about to shit themselves, apparently. ]

The large vermin live upstairs. [ Is he also joking? He is, but it might be difficult to tell.

He indicates for the man to come back up and follow him. The halls of Kaer Morhen are not at their best, but there's a concentrated effort from Geralt to clean it up as he moves through. Which mostly removes the blood and not much else. It's less for the comfort of his uninvited guest and more because he hasn't any desire to see it himself. ]

Let me guess. You woke up inside this place?

[ It's been happening. ]

[satanicpanics]

[ Eddie does accept it as a joke, and it eases his anxiety just a little bit. He snorts, and that “I can and will die right here if anyone raises their voice at me” expression on his face lifts a couple degrees. ]

Oh, shit, my mistake.

[ Despite the joke, he’s clearly nervous, his fingers twitching and his feet shuffling against the floor, ready to bolt if need be. Geralt is intimidating, but he doesn’t seem vengeful when it comes to intruders in his big creepy castle, so Eddie scampers after him. He’ll never say it, but he’s more than happy to leave those mysterious screams behind. ]

Uh, yeah, pretty much. Sorry, dude. You know, you might wanna consider hiring a maid—

[ He watches as the blood disappears, and his joke dies on his tongue. ]

Or not. Uh...I’m Eddie.

i-1

[aquaveiled]

[ Wandering the Horizon is something of a past-time, scouting out other's domains whether she's welcome in them or not. She recognizes Geralt's as soon as she arrives, though it wasn't her intention to end up here in the first place. Her crystal is...suspiciously absent. That is the first sign that something is amiss, snowy rampage aside.

A moth flutters into her view, directing her vision up towards the familiar keep. It looks as if the wilds have begun to reclaim stone as vines and roots take hold. She pauses to crouch next to one of the long, thick tendrils, gently placing her hand on it.

He wouldn't invite this change. His home is far from homey but this is clearly an invasion.

But from who? Or rather, what? ]

Geralt? Scruffy?

[ The second one is the Wolf, not Geralt. ]

[gynvael]

[ An invasion from himself is the real answer. Uninvited, but undeniably formed of thoughts and memories turned dark. He's tried to fix it. He can't. The only thing he can do is wait out the storm. Now and again, it dies down.

The literal white wolf does not appear, though its snarls can be heard through the wind. A wet sound like teeth crunching through bone. As for the other White Wolf—

He emerges with cautious steps. There's a sword in his hand, and a few loose vines fallen to the ground in pieces. Apparently, he's been...taming the vegetation.

Without warning, he reaches out, intending to grab her hand, snatching it away from the tendril she's touching. ]

Careful.

[aquaveiled]

[ He appears just in time, her fingers less than an ilm away from the vine's surface. Himeka blinks, eyes wide as she looks up at Geralt before they narrow in curiosity. But she does pull back from the plant, trusting his judgement that much.

Himeka straightens, taking in Geralt's stance as well as another once over of the keep. Or what hasn't been engulfed by root and vine. ]

You've done a few renovations.

[ An understatement. ]

Is everything alright?

[gynvael]

I had spare time.

[ Mm. He shifts his weight. Is it? At this point, he isn't certain what insisting that everything's all right would do. It's been laid open for everyone walking by to examine.

He sighs. ] Could be worse.

[ That's an honest answer, technically. He steps forward. This isn't the first time Himeka's arrived unannounced—and she's welcome in Kaer Morhen any time—but it is the first time she's appeared without her ever-present crystal. He glances over her shoulder through the thickening white as if he might be able to spot it hidden in the blizzard.

After a second, he looks back at her. ]

Come in. If you're staying. [ They shouldn't linger outside too long. ]

[aquaveiled]

[ Could be worse. Well, he's not saying it's fine so it's definitely not good, then. Just not dire. He also has his sword out and at the ready, doing a little trimming then or something else?

Himeka purses her lips but nods, accepting the invitation inside if it's offered. From the looks of things it will offer refuge from the cold but mayhaps not these creeping vines. ]

I never took you for a gardener. What is this?

1 • Exterior!

[soothsighs]

( Still, the Horizon refuses to let him go. Urianger has been wandering for what feels like days — though in truth, the passage of time has been far from a primary concern — in a strange back and forth between his own realm and those of his fellow Summoned. Some instances have been uneventful, leaving him to the perils of his own mind, but others?

Well.

Others have made themselves a problem. This time, however, Urianger finds himself alone in the snow-blased lands of what appears to be a large keep. There is nothing immediately concerning about the place — no blatant peril looming on the horizon — and so Urianger wraps his cloak around himself a little tighter against the cold as he begins to head towards shelter.

His first mistake, really, was in not recognising the vines.

It happens more quickly than he'd been prepared for — or perhaps it's simply a symptom of having not been prepared at all. The vines he'd thought to be natural shift just a little in his periphery, before snaking in close and coiling tight around one unfortunately bare ankle. His sandals provide little protection from either the cold or the thing, which roots him in place almost curiously as the crack and snap of bark herlads its arrival. )

By the Twelve ...

( Is all he manages as the creature surges forwards from the knot of trees, its faceless head focusing him down with the weight of an unseen gaze as further tendrils lash out to bind Urianger tight.

Whatever kind of Morbol this is, Urianger has never seen its like before! )

[gynvael]

[ If there's one thing Geralt has learned about the Horizon—at least when it comes to creations formed from his mind—it's that if he cannot will it away, he often can physically destroy it. Or force it back together.

In other words, he's been doing a bit of...trimming. Where the leshy is concerned. Part of him tries not to think about it too hard. Does not seek out the leshy itself, afraid it will not take shape of the monster but of the corrupted mutated face of one of his brothers. Instead, he hacks at the crawling vines, burns away the roots and tendrils with a torch. It isn't a solution, exactly. Hell, he can't even say why he's bothering. Just.

He's fucking tired of his head twisting up his damn place. This is not near the first time it's occurred.

Fortuitously for his guest, it means Geralt hears the lashing vines, the voice, immediately. He moves towards it. The sword, heated red, is probably easier to spot first through the thick snow than the man who wields it. It comes down on the first vine, then the next. They withdraw, falling in chunks against the snow—but the creature is already rearing for another strike.

Geralt grabs the man (elf, he realizes) by the arm. Real monsters can be slain. This one cannot. ] Move.

I.1

[warfed]

[An attempt to visit her own domain had brought her someplace that was almost the complete opposite- while her own was full of lush, tropical greenery and looked out upon the bluest ocean, she now found herself in a storm so bitter it rivaled some of the harsh winter weather she had experienced traveling through Faerghus. The cold bites sharply, cutting right to the bone, and as she recovers from the odd disorientation that comes with being displaced, she puts both arms around herself to try and ward off some of the chill- a futile effort, even if she had been dressed for the weather, which she certainly was not.

Her aim had been to see if the plants in her domain would wither in her presence like those without had; here, there is no way to tell, not immediately, but as she turns to survey her surroundings, she spies blood on the snow— fresh blood, with the scattered remains of what might have been a deer just beyond it.

She’s not alone.

Steadying herself, she reaches for her bow, just in case, but lets it hang at her side as she advances, kneeling down in the snow when she reaches what little remains there are to investigate. There’s evidence of teeth having been used, the shape and size of which are familiar enough, thanks to all her years of hunting and tracking.]

A wolf, perhaps…? I hope he is being sated, if so.

[Though even if it has had enough to eat, that doesn’t necessarily mean the danger is passed— and if nothing else, she is a trespasser here.]

sorry for the hella delay ;-;

[gynvael]

[ A wolf indeed. It appears out of the blizzard, thick white coat blending with the swirling snow. There's blood on its buzzle, staining its paws, and when it bares its teeth, the canines are almost bigger than a wolf's should be.

Its body is tense—but before it can pounce, another figure arrives. Geralt reaches down, snatching up the large wolf like an errant pup and setting it aside. ]

Sorry. [ He sounds a little more irked than apologetic. ] He's been...protective as of late.

[ To say the least. Maybe it senses his mood. He isn't certain, but frankly, although Geralt does not really give a damn how inviting Kaer Morhen is, neither is he interested in people getting chewed up in his front yard by a wayward wolf. ]

How'd you get here? [ She didn't trek up the mountain path through the storm, he hopes. ]

I am even later! feel free to ignore this if it's too old, life and health have been insane

[warfed]

[She's quick to raise her bow, a reflex when the wolf itself comes into view and bares its teeth, its maw stained with blood, but she lowers it just as quickly when another human appears, scruffing the wolf as it if were nothing and sending it on its way.]

He is a guardian, then.

[Of sorts, she assumes. She exhales, her bow remaining lowered but still in hand as she draws back up to her full height, lips pursed slightly as she furrows her brow and gives a shake of her head in response.]

I am not knowing how I came here, however— I was in my own domain, and then just as suddenly, I was not.

ensnared (justice)

[lightkeeping]

[Whether this is actually someone's Domain or not doesn't materially matter to Aloy--something is going on with the Singularity, and she's stuck here either way. Efforts to literally will herself out of this snowy mountainscape prove fruitless, and trying to descend the mountain itself only sends her careening back towards the top. Brute forcing gets nowhere fast, so in the interest of not standing around to freeze, she decides she's going to find the edge of this place. It can't possibly go on forever, can it?

She's starting to think that might be the case before she catches a glimpse of a human shape some distance away.]

Hey!

[He's the first person she's seen since arriving here, and despite the fact that in ordinary circumstances, she might want to try and tackle this alone, Aloy is quickly running out of options and isn't about to pass this up. Her clawstrider mount is functioning properly (for now), and though deep snow is not necessarily optimal conditions for such a machine, it's better than nothing. She quickly closes the distance.]

Is this place yours?

[If yes, she would like to have a Word.]

[gynvael]

[ At the edge is where Geralt stands, peering over it into the nothingness of the cold sky below. The blue tumbles downward into an unending abyss. Same as before. He's wearing a thin cloak, but the cold otherwise seems not to bother him.

He's turning even before she calls out to him—attention caught by the sound of heavy crunching on the snow: an odd metallic clunk belonging to a raptor-like monster that has him nearly drawing his sword until he sees the woman atop it. He stares at the...creature, then back at her.

That's new. ]

Wish it were. [ Then he would not be trapped here. Again. He shoulders his sword once more, tucked in its leather case. Last time, it shattered so he isn't certain how long it'll last, but. He'd rather have it than nothing at all. ] You came with a friend.

[lightkeeping]

[Well, there goes that idea. She might be more troubled by the fact that they seem to be held captive in a place that belongs to neither of them if she weren’t so focused on what she can do to get out. Perhaps, hopefully, there will be time to unpack this later.

For now, Geralt has a weapon and that’s better than nothing. She’s not about to take anything for granted, right now.]

We’ll see how long it lasts. Want a ride? There’s room.

[If she’s going to find the edge of this thing, it will be faster on the back of a machine.]

Trying to get down just dumps you back at the top. You probably know that already.

[gynvael]

[ His expression carries some caution as he looks upon the...thing. He's ridden atop of machines. He's ridden atop of animals. But he has never ridden atop of a machine shaped to look like a beast. Does it bite? Has it got a mind of its own?

All that said, he could use a mount. Trudging through the snow loses its appeal after a time. ]

Unfortunately. Not a soft landing.

[ A pause. Then he approaches. If she provides no further instruction, he'll simply grasp the nearest hold and swing himself atop the giant metal. Chicken. He shifts uncertainly until he's settled. It isn't as uncomfortable as he's expecting. It is, however, a rare thing for him to be a passenger. ]

Did you build this creature?