After Geralt agrees to take him, Waver spends a while longer looking through his notes, making a few of his own. He excuses himself at some point to send a message to Iskandar that he'll be out late, a brief explanation of the research he's pursuing and assurance that he knows what he's doing. Geralt had better bring him back in one piece.
By the time they get out past the wall, it's dark-- and still the darkness of outside seems less than it was within the city, the air clearer, the stars above breaking through the deep autumn night even though the moon is just a sliver behind clouds. Waver hadn't realized exactly how oppressive it had felt inside Dorchacht, not in its full scope, not until now that he can finally take a full breath clear of the scent of lingering industrial smoke.
He doesn't know the way, but he can help those without decent vision in the darkness make sure not to trip, his own turnskin eyes shining in the dark. Occasionally, he might warn one of their companions of something coming up, or pick out obstacles in their way. He tries to remember the path. He tries not to look too long through the trees at the noises and unfamiliar, unpleasant scents further out in the nighttime wilderness beyond the wall. They make the fur on the back of his neck prickle, his claws twitch. This isn't what he's here to focus on.
Eventually, a few of the Resistance members lead him to the wall while others guard their backs, and Waver follows the harpy, leaning into the low light of one of the lanterns to examine the stretch of markings shown. Some of them are recognizable from Geralt's notes.
"Intricate... and overlapping spells." He'll point to a few runes he doesn't know, asking for explanations, jotting things down in a small notebook so he won't forget.
"Several wards. Protecting the wall from nature and attack, right? And the compulsion spell..." He's mumbling to himself. Or talking to the harpy, or whoever is around. Magic mumbojumbo, asking about the spells, what fuels them, what the Resistance has learned so far whatever's in that questions thread tbh let's just pretend he covers it all.
Hopefully, there's not too much trouble with whatever Geralt's dealing with.
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By the time they get out past the wall, it's dark-- and still the darkness of outside seems less than it was within the city, the air clearer, the stars above breaking through the deep autumn night even though the moon is just a sliver behind clouds. Waver hadn't realized exactly how oppressive it had felt inside Dorchacht, not in its full scope, not until now that he can finally take a full breath clear of the scent of lingering industrial smoke.
He doesn't know the way, but he can help those without decent vision in the darkness make sure not to trip, his own turnskin eyes shining in the dark. Occasionally, he might warn one of their companions of something coming up, or pick out obstacles in their way. He tries to remember the path. He tries not to look too long through the trees at the noises and unfamiliar, unpleasant scents further out in the nighttime wilderness beyond the wall. They make the fur on the back of his neck prickle, his claws twitch. This isn't what he's here to focus on.
Eventually, a few of the Resistance members lead him to the wall while others guard their backs, and Waver follows the harpy, leaning into the low light of one of the lanterns to examine the stretch of markings shown. Some of them are recognizable from Geralt's notes.
"Intricate... and overlapping spells." He'll point to a few runes he doesn't know, asking for explanations, jotting things down in a small notebook so he won't forget.
"Several wards. Protecting the wall from nature and attack, right? And the compulsion spell..." He's mumbling to himself. Or talking to the harpy, or whoever is around. Magic mumbojumbo, asking about the spells, what fuels them, what the Resistance has learned so far whatever's in that questions thread tbh let's just pretend he covers it all.
Hopefully, there's not too much trouble with whatever Geralt's dealing with.