middaeg | ( CLOSED ) snail of the lake

(( DON'T MAKE WAVES; nighttime ))

[ There are a handful of reasons Geralt's taken this job. The only one he's willing to admit is that it's just what he does. Doesn't matter what strange world they're in; a contract is a contract. He asks around for more information (not a lot), a map (which he gets), and packs up his horse to set off.

The lake is quiet when he reaches it, sun sinking against the horizon. He leaves Roach tethered to a tree nearby. There's no blood on the grass that he can see; no bodies, either. As far as he knows, all the people have been marked as missing. Not killed. If no one's been dragged off and there's no sign of a struggle in the area, then there's only one reason for that.

To confirm his theory, Geralt takes a detour through the woods. When he emerges, it's with a small fox, freshly killed. He pushes it gently into the lake from shore and watches the carcass drift.

He keeps his distance, crouched behind a tree with sword in hand. At first, there's only a gentle splash from the rock. Then the water bubbles. The center of the lake becomes a whirlpool, water swirling with a faint glow until the surface breaks. The creature that rises out is luminescent in the night: not a drowned dead or an aeschna like he's suspected, but a...

What the fuck is that? The only way to describe it is a glowing mutated snail. With teeth. A lot of teeth. It devours the fox in no time and retreats back under the surface. Well. ]

That answers that. [ His horse snorts nearby. ] What do you think, Roach?

Edited 2020-07-18 01:43 (UTC)

[Roach might deign to give Geralt a response. Perhaps.

Of course, a mare with anywhere near the qualities needed to be a Witcher's horse, let alone actually being one, wouldn't be unnerved by something coming out of the woods unexpectedly. (~~Unfortunate mid-combat bucking incidents which may or may not have happened in the past aside~~.)

Perhaps the mare's response would be one to indicate the fact Geralt was now not alone. Animals had a strange sort of premonition, of course. A type of it which humans, maybe even augmented ones, didn't have.

Either way. As Cloud happens upon the clearing which a damn sight less grace, less planning, and less foresigt than Geralt had, perhaps Roach would hold her ears back briefly, at least for the fact that the man approaching- from a distance, scrawny. Unmounted, and holding a greatsword on his back that's almost the size of him lengthways- was not fully human himself. Never mind the fact that this man is staring at the pair of them with piercing, too blue eyes.

But regardless of what Roach does, or doesn't do:]

...Shit.

[Hell of an introduction.]

You doing the job?

[What can be said. He doesn't know Geralt. Not even close. But nothing about him seems civilian, and the sword on his back isn't even the half of it. Giving a warning about ...gigantic nails in the area seemed unneeded.]

[ There is a snort from Roach about the same time he hears footsteps in the vicinity. Geralt glances over his shoulder. The man approaching him is young, blond hair unusually spiked. More than that, his sword is what catches Geralt's eye. If it can be called a sword. Is that thing even practical?

Never mind.

Now that the creature has slunk back under the lake's surface, Geralt gets up. In the moonlight, his eyes glint with a yellow shine. ] I came for a relaxing swim.

[ He doesn't usually accept company anywhere, never mind on a hunt. He's also aware he doesn't know nearly as much about what's in that lake than he should nor about the monsters that roam this land. Despite commonalities, enough differences exist that Geralt knows not to rely solely on his old knowledge. So he doesn't tell the other man to go the fuck home like he might've otherwise. ]

You've seen the creature?

[Said snort is responded to with a flat Look. A horse, right. A while ago, he'd probably have stared longer. Where he's from doesn't have them, after all. But he's seen enough of them in Aefenglom to not find the creatures all that strange any more- and aforementioned Look, if anything, is more the fact the things are prey animals. His changes certainly make a few unsavory urges regarding predator/prey animals play at the back of his mind.

...But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. He's more human than creature when the moon's not full- and the human side of him knows damn well even trying it would be more trouble than what it was worth- certainly making things more complicated, whatever happened.]

Nope. Only just got here.

[A peer around. What could be said? If he'd known of even half of the techniques Geralt employed to get here, he'd be amazed. Him getting here? Dumb luck, mostly. And following the slime. And if it wasn't for the fact Geralt was here, he'd have walked on by without even realizing what was at the bottom of the pond.

But even then, there is something he's adept in. Getting paid. And since Geralt is here...]

...Could probably charge 'em double, considering both of us got the job. That way, no-one's cutting into anyone's margins. Sound good?

[ So much for finding out if there's any information he's missed. Glimpsing the creature for few seconds doesn't tell him much. He wants a closer look, without risking his limbs being eaten. It changes things, depending on if that thing just prefers to be in water or if it actually can't survive outside of it.

He's still turning all this over in his mind when the other man speaks up again. Geralt glances over. Mm. That tells him everything, that that's the priority. It's not a judgment: payment is a language he knows well. And he'd rather be with someone here for a profit than some other motive.

There's just one problem: ] They can hardly pay one.

[ The notice hadn't offered compensation upfront. They'd wanted volunteers and after his conversation with Ciarán about what happened here (about what he's started to think of as Ciarán's Geralt had done), he gets it. Dorchacht is a city rebuilding and only starting to get by. He's certain what they've offered him, that's all they've scraped together.

He has his own reasons for being here. The money's just an easy excuse. So it isn't a long deliberation before he simply says, ] You take the coin. I keep the creature. [ Rare giant snail and a city full of witches and monsters. Yeah, he doesn't doubt he'll find someone to buy its parts.

He tips his head towards the lake. ] And you bait it out first. I want to see if it comes on land.

(( NORTHERN OUTPOST; 07/18; dusk ))
[ Lately, the sweltering weather has been getting to him. It isn't just it's a hotter summer than he's used to—he's spent time far south of the Continent, despite preferring to remain north—but that he feels hotter than usual. As if his body itself is running heated.

The last time his temperature ran hot, he was throwing up blood on the stone floors. So he's trying not to think about it too much. Whatever the fuck is going on, he takes the first opportunity he can to go where it's promised to be colder.

Much colder, he learns as soon as he steps foot through the portal (damn portals). The snow is thick. Knowing the weather, he's left Roach behind, carrying with him only a pack and his sword, and a cloak. He's less here for a job than he is to just make himself as familiar as he can with this new world. But after some time traveling, the chill grows more bitter, the wind sharper. There's so much snow coming down he can hardly see a fucking thing.

Geralt knows better than to press on. It'll be dark soon, anyway. He checks his map, searching for the nearest cabin and makes his way there. He can hear a heartbeat inside when he approaches. Geralt is gracious enough to knock once before he pushes open the door. He shuts it before the snow can pile its way in.

Not a bad little cabin. If there's someone there, Geralt doesn't acknowledge him beyond a glance. He sets his bag down, shaking snow out of his hair. ]

Edited 2020-07-21 05:28 (UTC)

[ It had also been curiosity that had brought Zack to the Northern Outpost, especially when he heard talk of some place called the Underground. He doesn't know much except that it only recently became accessible to the Mirrorbound (and the rest of the population here, from the sound of it), though his plans to see for himself had quickly been derailed.

Some of the Wilders let him know that plenty of Mirrorbound had already traveled to the Underground to help with their problems there, but that they needed people to make the trek to some nearby ruins as well. Some sort of moss that would help with the current predicament only grew there, apparently. It's the exact sort of job Zack had envisioned himself doing when he'd talked grandly of becoming a mercenary, and so he lends his blade to the cause.

Except the trip out to the ruins soon becomes so treacherous that he has to take shelter in a roadside cabin. He got here not too long ago himself and is still busy trying to dry off from all the snow that soaked into his clothes when he hears someone else approaching.

While he doesn't grab for Organics when the door opens, he is on guard to see who it is, an ingrained instinct that won't be leaving him any time soon. The man who steps in isn't immediately hostile. If anything, he barely seems to notice that Zack is there. Weird.

As snow falls from the man's hair, Zack can see that it is, in fact, white. There are a strangely large number of people with white hair here, and he's just going to have to get used to that. He can't help but wonder what Sephiroth thinks of it, but it's not exactly the sort of thing you ask someone out of the blue. Especially when things are still complicated between them. ]

Hey. Heck of a storm out there, huh? I was gonna see if I could get a fire going. Were you also headed for the ruins?

[ In truth, Geralt would've been content to ignore someone for the duration of his stay. But he's also not surprised when he's spoken to. He glances over his shoulder. There's nothing too unusual about his companion. At least, not until he catches a better look at his eyes on the dimming light of day: there's a faint glow to them, one he knows he's seen before. At the lake, not too long back. Geralt makes little effort to be discreet about what he's studying.

Hmm. Maybe it's a trait of the changes that take place here. Geralt pulls out a chair. ] I heard the crumbling rocks were an attraction.

[ He sets his sword aside. Just the two of them? Makes him wonder who else came by the area but haven't made it into shelter. He's aware of what's going on on the tunnels, knows about the moss at the ruins that others have been coming to gather.

He digs through his pack and tosses the other man a packet of matches without comment: a convenient discovery he's made now that his signs don't work here. Better than going in with flint and steel. If they can get a fire going, it'll help keep the draft out. The cabin's not poorly constructed, but a cabin's a cabin. It only does so much in a blizzard. ]

[ As soon as the stranger scrutinizes him, Zack meets his eyes and returns the favor. That shade of gold in his irises certainly isn't natural, but given the sorts of monsters Zack's seen around in his short time on this world, it doesn't throw him off too much. A strange eye color doesn't really hold a handle to horns, wings, and a tail, does it? In any case, it doesn't seem worth commenting on directly, at least not right now.

The dry comment earns a quick bark of a laugh from Zack. At least his new friend has some kind of sense of humor, and there's something vaguely familiar about it too.

Naturally, Zack can't help but glance over the sword that the man sets aside as well. He'd like to get a closer look, but he knows all too well how protective people will get over their weapons. So, he'll admire from afar for now.

After catching the matches, Zack nods and turns back to the hearth which is inset further into the room. At that point, Geralt will be able to see the large sword strapped to his back. He kneels down in front of the hearth, relieved to see that there are still some old wood pieces that are hopefully dry enough to catch fire. Striking a match, he adds it to the wood pile and repeats the process a number of times, hoping for the best. ]

At this rate, we may not be able to set out again until tomorrow. Hopefully no one's stuck out in that blizzard...

[ If the eyes hadn't caught his attention, an impractically large sword would've. He has no idea who even would make a weapon like that. Though it does look sufficient for cracking someone on the head, which is sometimes all you need. ]

Tomorrow's optimistic. [ Storm like this, it's already gone on longer than it should've. He's just hoping the snow doesn't cave in the roof. It's happened before.

Geralt watches the flame spark and sputter. After a couple tries, it's clear the wood's not lighting. Damp, probably. The cabin's drafty and who the hell knows how long this place has sat empty. He gets up to start searching through the cabin for something to use as kindling. ]

I didn't sense anyone nearby. [ A peek into a drawer reveals an old dusty book. He stuffs some of the pages into the fireplace. Thin and dry, the paper catches the flame. He has a feeling there's at least one or two who're stuck further out in this weather. There always is. He decides not to bring it up, though. ] You've been up here before?

[ Well, Zack at least hopes it's tomorrow. He's a pretty friendly guy, but even he's apprehensive at the thought of being cooped up in this small cabin with someone he's only just met. The stranger doesn't seem like a bad guy from a very first impression, but...

There come a few more clues that he's probably a monster, rather than a witch. First, that he searches for extra kindling for the fire rather than just using a spell. Zack nods approvingly as the old pages catch flame, relieved that they won't be freezing their butts off in here.

The other clue is what he said. That he didn't sense anyone.

At the question, Zack clears his throat and straightens to his feet, shaking his head. The fire seems to be growing just fine on its own, so he busies himself with removing Organics and leaning it up against the wall near the hearth. They'll be here for a while, so it's time to get comfortable. ]

Nope. I was gonna head down to the underground to see what that was all about, but it sounded like they needed people to make this trek. Don't think they could have predicted a storm this bad, though...

[ He sighs to himself. Hopefully the need for the moss isn't so dire that a day or two will make a difference. ]

How about you?

[ While the man busies with his sword, Geralt watches. He doesn't make it a secret that he is, either, his gaze roaming a little casually. It's not unusual to see a man armed. Most are to some degree, both here and back home, but something about the way he carries himself suggests he's more than a civilian. ]

Same way. [ He'd been hoping he'd have found someone more familiar with the area; Geralt's asked around before heading out, but the information's murky at best. His main concern is that the blizzard won't let up. Between the reports coming from the Underground and the sudden shift up here, he can't say with certainty it's just a case of some odd weather.

Not much to do about it now, though. He slips off his cloak to dry and sits down by the fire. His head tips towards the sword next to his own, indicating it. ] Does that thing even balance?

[ While this may turn into a case of the blind leading the blind, Zack isn't too concerned. The blizzard is a setback, sure, but it'll have to ease up eventually and then they can be on their way. Sooner rather than later, if they're lucky. The way he sees it, two heads are better than one even if this is a first for both of them.

When the stranger takes a seat by the fire, Zack settles down to join him, sitting crosslegged in front of the slowly growing flames. It'll be a few more minutes before the heat really settles in, so he he leans back against his palms to wait.

Funny -- he's usually the one jumping to ask questions about people's swords. He can sense some judgment in the man's tone, but isn't particularly bothered by it. Angeal probably would have taken offense at the implication that there was something wrong with this style of sword, but it isn't the buster sword, so does it really matter?

In response, Zack only shrugs. ]

I know it's not typical, but my mentor used swords like this, so it's how I learned. They're too heavy for most people to use effectively, but I've got a bit of a leg up, so it works for me.

[ After a pause, he leans forward to hold his hand out. ]

I'm Zack, by the way.

[ There's some curiosity as he regards the other man. ] A leg up.

[ He doesn't press beyond that. It's interesting, that's all: the way it's said, the implication is that he's...what. Stronger than average? Before even arriving here. Said so casually, too. He considers those matching glowing eyes and thinks maybe it isn't to do with the changes here, after all.

Geralt takes the offered hand. A healing scar sits in the center of his palm that might be felt even amongst its general roughness: where he'd grabbed his silver medallion and burned a damn hole in it. (A different, decidedly not silver one now hang around his neck.) ]

Geralt.

[ The handshake is quick, but not so quick that Zack doesn't register his palm running over smooth, raised skin that indicates scar tissue. He knows the feeling well, having drawn fingers over the own x-shaped scar on his cheek. While he notices, though, he doesn't say anything. It's a strange place to be wounded, but it's already pretty clear that this guy is a fighter of some sort. ]

Nice to meet you, Geralt.

[ Zack leans back again, watching the flames for a few seconds. Geralt hadn't directly ask a question, but there's also no real reason to hide what he is, as it's not like it had been a secret back home either. ]

I went through some treatments back home. I was exposed to an energy source called mako, and in small doses, it makes a person stronger and faster than average. [ Among other things, but he doesn't think he needs to go into the long version with someone he's just met. After a pause, Zack quirks a smile. ] So don't worry, I won't slow us down once we're able to get on the road again.

[ He's already decided they'll be traveling out to the ruins together. Why wouldn't they? It seems natural to team up. ]

♞ cloud strife

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♞ zack fair

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♞ jaskier

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