Player Plot: The Salvation of Geardagas, Part 1

[faileas]

Event Log: January, The Salvation of Geardagas: Part 1

The Evergreen Circle Something is happening in Aefenglom. A rash of disappearances has finally caught the attention of the authorities, but only thanks to a strange twist: a handful of the missing individuals are starting to turn up again, and not as they should be. It began with a harpy. After a week of nothing she returned, fully transformed into a Shade and too far gone to save. The same happened with a trader the next day. And the next with a witch. All three were infected, albeit to varying degrees, and only one of them was able to be brought back from the brink. Naturally, this is a huge cause for concern. There's little sign that the Bright Wall is damaged and none of the victims were known to have left the city. Questioning the survivor, Owain, doesn't produce any leads either as he can't remember anything before his disappearance. It's only after he's had some time to recover that he notices something off. As the blackening of the Cwyld fades, a small tattoo on his palm that wasn't there before becomes visible. To the concern of the Coven, it's a symbol that's familiar to them as the emblem of a rising spiritual movement favoured by the wealthy called the Evergreen Circle, led by a witch called Cillian Alder. Their purpose, he claims, is to provide hope through interrogating the Cwyld from a scholarly and philosophical perspective. In spite of this, Alder has developed more of a cult-like following than anything. Mirrorbound of standing (business owners, members of parliament, public figures, etc) might have already received one of their pamphlets. Naturally, it's an incredibly sensitive subject. The Evergreen Circle has been entirely peaceful up until now, and with such influential and powerful figures among its numbers, the Coven is reluctant to make any outright accusations. Instead, the task of investigating them has been covertly passed to the Mirrorbound. As outsiders, they stand less of a chance of causing political unrest. However, they explicitly warn against taking any hostile actions for the time being: this is an information-gathering request, nothing more. They can provide basic information about the Evergreen Circle meetings but that's about it. a. Preaching to the Choir (Every Friday Evening, Mid-Ieneuer to Early Feoveuer) Cillian Alder Art by Rachel The hall is buzzing. Though there aren't even enough people here to fill the place, everyone seems to be bubbling with excitement, exchanging loud greetings and introductions. They're particularly friendly to newcomers and are quick to offer up their experiences with the group: "Cillian is a truly free thinker!" "I haven't felt so positive about our future for a long time." "There’s a real sense of hope and community here in the Circle." The meeting convenes at 8 o’clock sharp and silence descends upon the room as a figure takes the stage. With his commanding presence and charismatic smile there's no doubt about who this is: Cillian Alder. A man in his late fifties with greying hair, he speaks with an accent crisp as cut glass and a strong voice, no doubt amplified by some kind of spell to reach around the room. He's hypnotising, those cool blue eyes of his impossible to look away from and piercing in their intensity. "How wonderful to see you all tonight, both familiar and unfamiliar faces alike! You are all welcome. I have only one request." He brings his hands together with a smile. "That you keep your hearts open. How else might our minds grow Evergreen?" Alder's speech is nothing if not passionate. He paces and proselytises, responding to the audience's interruptions and cheers with enormous enthusiasm. Throughout, his message is clear. "Who are we to immediately decry the Cwyld as a curse? Fear of the unknown, of what we have yet to control, can only hold us back! We must instead seek to understand it and be at peace with its presence! This is a test of our conviction! Our will to survive!" It goes on for the better part of an hour and, afterwards, he descends into the audience to receive their praise and questions with the gracious smile of a beloved king. He might even turn that magnanimous presence on you, affording you a few crucial moments of conversation (limited to 2 RNG characters). Will you stick around to find out more or try and slip backstage while everyone is distracted? For such a warm, welcoming atmosphere, there seems to be a lot of security around the doors leading back there so it might take some quick thinking to get through without conflict. Those who are caught will have to face the consequences, but the results might be… unfavorable. b. Spirited Away (late-Ieneuer to mid Feoveuer) Those less inclined to subterfuge won't have any problems finding trouble to get into either. As the month goes on, more and more people disappear, and that might even include Mirrorbound. Whether you're intercepting a kidnapping or fighting off your own, you're more likely to get caught up in it the longer the month goes on. It's easy enough to fight off the attackers but nigh impossible to actually catch or identify one: each is dressed in black and smells of the tell-tale decay of the Cwyld. But even assuming you do manage to apprehend one, they will refuse to talk in anything but vague, confusing comments about salvation and new beginnings. c. Cast Out (mid-Ieneuer to early Feoveuer) Likewise, the number of locals who have been abducted and released continues to rise. The victims, anywhere from badly infected to fully transformed into Shades, require subduing, healing and, in the most dire of circumstances, permanently dealt with before they can hurt anyone. Without exception, they're aggressive, reacting violently to attempts to heal as well as harm them and there are no discernable patterns when it comes to victims. However, the eagle-eyed might spot the Evergreen Circle's symbol on some of their palms if they're not too heavily corrupted.

[ ooc: More information about the event can be found on the plotting post along with comments for questions, and RNG sign-ups for directly interacting with Alder! ]

Comments

[killuwatt]

...oh.

[ Well. That tracks.

He stifles a sigh, looking away, but it doesn't look like he's about to run off or try to change the subject. His voice is flat, matter-of-fact. It's not a brag. ]

Then you must be really strong, after all. There aren't a lot of people who can tell me about it after I try to kill them.

[ A pause, the air between them tense. Killua swallows, fists clenched inside his pockets. ]

Was there anyone else there? Or was it just me?

[gynvael]

I imagine not.

[ There's no judgment from him either. He doesn't begrudge him the attempted murder; Killua obviously hadn't been himself. That fight could've gone any direction -- and Geralt knows the boy's distraction had been part of the outcome.

Because no. Killua hadn't been alone. Not at all. The lingering presence is one he hasn't forgotten. ]

A shadow. Never saw its face, but you seemed to hear it.

[killuwatt]

...brother.

[ The word escapes him, barely louder than a breath, like an involuntary reaction more than a response. His heart rate speeds up, anxious and angry. Killua wets his lips, swallows again uncomfortably.

After a too-long beat of silence, he remembers Geralt is waiting. ]

It wasn't real. It was a dream.

Didn't mean to try to kill you, old man. No hard feelings.

[gynvael]

[ His gaze rests on Killua. The boy's thundering heart tells him not to ask further about his brother. So that was who it was. His brother. ]

I know. [ He answers simply. It's not that Killua tried to kill him that weighs on his mind; it's that Killua hadn't recognized him at all. Like he'd been lost in something else entirely.

It's a feeling Geralt understands too well now. ]

On my first full moon, I attacked someone. My bonded. Hardly remember it, either.

[killuwatt]

That sucks. [ Killua replies, sincerely.

It sounds flippant, but he... gets it. And he doesn't even have the moons to excuse him. Just years of programming from his own family doing their very best to make him into the most efficient and obedient little killing machine he could be. ]

If it's just instinct, sometimes you just... act.

[ He clears his throat. Change of subject, before he gets carried away. It's clear in just that much that he knows exactly how that goes, acting on a killer instinct when you snap. He lets out a breath, and some of the tension in his shoulders, glancing over at Geralt again. ]

So, your Bonded. The brown-haired guy who loves hearing himself talk? Seems he's still in one piece.

He mentioned you, so that's how I know.

[gynvael]

[ Killua gets a hum in reply, less out of a desire to respond and more because there's not much else to say to that. It's not an understanding he wishes on anyone, but here they are.

The change of topic is welcome. His eyebrow raises. Mm. So he's met Jaskier. ]

I don't doubt he did. [ Jaskier has made his career off of Geralt's so-called adventures back home, and it appears the bard is determined to make an equal name for himself here. ] Did he sing to you, too?

[killuwatt]

[ Thank goodness Geralt goes for the subject change... maybe another time, they can share their sad family stories. But probably not.

Jaskier is a much easier topic.

Killua blinks, then lets out a snort-laugh of surprise. ]

Sing? Does he just do that randomly at strangers?

[gynvael]

[ He glances over, his boots crunching into fresh snow. ] He's a bard.

[ Geralt says this as if it explains everything, which it does to him. Jaskier has selected a few locales around the city, and it's not hard to find him performing at one of those places.

Though it seems Killua has escaped that experience this time.

His expression is mildly curious as he regards the boy. ] What thrilling conversation did you share, then?

[ About him, that is. Look, Jaskier talks a lot. Geralt knows better than to presume that if his name came up, nothing insignificant was revealed. ]

[killuwatt]

That's like a musician, right?

[ The term sounds weird and outdated to him, but he has a vague idea.

When Geralt inevitably asks about himself, Killua smirks. Of course he would. It's only natural. ]

He was just complaining about how you complain about him... or something.

[ Killua thinks about it a moment, then suddenly snaps his fingers as he remembers something and his grin widens, eyes sparkling mischievously. It had gotten such a good reaction out of Jaskier. Maybe Geralt will make a funny expression too. ]

Oh, yeah. He also said you're his boyfriend!

[gynvael]

[ Killua gets confirmation in the form of a vague sound. Seeing as Killua has flying ships, bards must be known as something else in his world. Maybe they also fly.

That Jaskier complained about Geralt complaining is typical; it doesn't even draw a glance -- until he hears the mischief in Killua's voice.

He looks over with his eyebrows raised. It's clear a number of gears are grinding in his head. His what? Jaskier has called him many things -- his muse, his best friend, his biggest fan -- the truth of which is often stretched tighter than a bowstring. But that one's new. What the fuck does it even...?

Geralt takes a few moments to piece the term together from context. Whether he understands it entirely correctly is up in the air. His expression turns wry. ]

If you're suggesting a courtship, I've neither been informed nor received a single rose.

[ In fairness, what they are is mostly undefined. Like his relationship with Yennefer, it simply is. They're important to him, and that's about all that matters to put into words. ]

[killuwatt]

[ A 'courtship'?? How old and stuffy can Geralt get? Killua snorts again, shaking his head in mock disappointment. ]

My, word! What a right degenerate. Every proper courtship needs roses!

[ He exclaims in a stupid mimicry of Geralt's accent, trying to sound 'fancy' and appropriately elderly. They had their real moment of heart to heart; Killua's back to being a little shit. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt does not quite tell Killua to fuck off in so many words, but the look he gives is a clear suggestion. ]

We're not boyfriends. [ The quotes can be nearly heard around the word. Tempting to let the boy carry on believing what he will, but Geralt's not interested in having to explain himself to others if Killua ever decides to announce it to everyone he meets that the Witcher and the bard are...courting.

Okay, mostly he just doesn't want it to come around to Yennefer. He'll never fucking live it down if she catches wind of that rumor. ]

And how's your friend? [ He switches tracks before Killua can ask exactly what Jaskier is, banking on the boy being easily distracted. ] Back as he was?

[killuwatt]

[ He's not exactly distracted, but the transition seems apt. In an embarrassing way. Killua lets the teasing go. His voice warms slightly when he's talking about Gon. ]

When he came back, his body was human again. So he's had to go through the whole rigmarole all over. But he's okay otherwise.

It won't keep him down for long, especially since he knows what to expect now.

[gynvael]

[ Hm. Not surprising, considering the same happened to him. Something about this land. Killua sounds fond of his friend, and Geralt's simply glad he has him here. If only so he doesn't have to drag him out of the woods again.

He shifts his bag to his other shoulder as they near the Haven. The paths split down along the homes. ]

Don't let me keep you from bothering him.