☆ Event: A Tale of Two Cities

[faileas]

Event Log: September, A Tale of Two Cities

I. THE TRIP OUT On Septeril 5th, those who've agreed to go as dignitaries to Dorchacht will meet with Nerissa Bell in the Coven's foyer. Given the group is a little large, and the boat they've procured for the voyage would be a little crowded with all of them on it, she suggests there be two groups: the first one will go now and will return around the middle of the month, while the second will depart a few days after the first group returns, just to give them some breathing room. a. DIGNITARY: THE SHIP Those joining Nessie are led to the docks, where an old ship is being scrapped down, barnacles removed and hull shined to perfection. Sailors call to and fro from on board, buckets of water thrown off the side away from the docks and there's a tingle of nervous excitement from the gathering crowds come to wish the dignitaries and ambassadors a bon voyage. She's of a medium size, able to hold her crew and half of the assigned dignitaries with little trouble, and from top to bottom the moose-like Faun of a captain calls her a seaborn miracle; short of a sea wyrm, she's never faltered nor fled the waves, but he'll admit that she's been more a fishing boat than anything the past couple years. Judging from the way his tuffed tail lashes in excitement, he's thrilled to be out on a real voyage again -- even if it's to those notoriously unfriendly blokes 'round the corner of the map, haven't been in decades time and they've always been up their own arses about this and that. While dignitaries are supposed to relax the best they can on the four day trip, the captain doesn't seem to mind offering work to those interested in learning the way of the sea or with the know-how already, eagerly asking the Mirrorbound about their experiences beyond the glass... much more than he is about talking about himself outside of his ship, who he loves a great deal and sings the praises of up and down the hour, through sea shanty and spoken word. His large antlers don't seem to get in the way of his work nor bar him from getting in and out his quarters, but watch out! They are large and they do hurt. All's not well going to and from Dorchacht, though, as while the waters are safer than the land by far, there's plenty of dangers within the deep: Infected Merrow swim in the shallows, singing sweetly from rocks that jut out at the shore, and some more adventurous ones try their luck closer to the boat too. The captain's Navigator, a Witch with just as rowdy an attitude if more polite a tone, can manage a deafening spell on the ship to keep any from falling seaward, but asks that those who can to rid the ship of those terrible pests, whether by cannon, magic, or something else similarly ranged. Oh, it'd be perfectly alright if they killed them, plenty of them out here in the sea and growing ever more, but if they simply want to scare them off then by all means! There's also all manner of sea beasts as well, from krakens on the smaller side to the mentioned sea wyrms earlier, though the captain'll say that they're just babies compared to the mother he'd faced last year -- still troublesome little bastards, best put down before they're drowned themselves, but nothing to turn tail at. Outside of these... troubles... there's disorderly sailors of Monster and Witch alike, the former being compromised primarily of Turnskin and Faun for heavy lifting, with a Harpy in the crow's nest to help with speed, and the latter being those specializing in Divination and Astrology for directions, as well as some elemental manipulation from the Evocation course. Unlike the proper Coven trained, they seem like they're a little more unconventional with their magics, using "shortcuts" and combining spells to great effect. When they're not on the clock as it were they enjoy a great deal of ale, howling stories and song, pushing each other around whilst the journey's bright and startlingly serious when things turn south. Be careful you don't get in a fight, or perhaps you'd like to show your stuff in a little competition: They're willing to do anything to pass the time. b. ESPIONAGE: THE DEVICE Upon hearing that there are some who would be interested in investigating the device that Mhairi mentioned, a young Witch opens up the room it's being stored in now to allow them a chance to check it out. They warn that it isn't particularly cooperative, but maybe those with some knowledge of magitech - or their world's equivalent - might be able to help? While not exactly the largest device around, it's one that stands out. Something resembling a Tesla coil stands atop the piece of tech, tall enough to almost reach the ceiling of the rather tall room, and various dials and knobs and gauges adorn the outside of it. Those who are perceptive to magic - training in detection spells, or who have a good sense for it, or even a sixth sense for something poised to happen - will be able to note that there's a sort of... presence in the room. It continues to build up, the more people that come in to investigate. Anyone that tinkers with it, has active magitech on their person, or even uses magic in it, only help to build the sensation. And then, when enough Mirrorbound of both the Witch and Monster persuasion are in the room - A whirring noise fills the room, as the device comes to life. There isn't any time to vacate the room, because whether it was an intentional thing to activate the teleporter or not, it's activated. The intention of using it for travel to Dorchacht remains embedded in it, and from one moment to the next, the group in the room find themselves not in the Coven, but in the midst of trees. All around you is the forest just beneath the cliffs outside of Dorchacht. In the distance, if one looks hard enough, they might be able to spot the Black City itself. Besides the storage room of the Coven vanishing in a flash of light and electricity, the device is absent, too. Some of its smaller parts can be found scattered in the craggy grass at your feet, in the roots of trees, as if it completely fell apart the moment that the magic was activated. Whatever you had on your person, when you left? It's all that you have, now. And there's no way back from here. (Notes: Some small reminders - the boats take 2 days to reach Dorchacht, meaning they take 2 days to come back as well, and the teleportation device used by the espionage team is a one-time use only. The espionage team will be able to return to Aefenglom at the end of the month courtesy of some inside help, using a similar device that managed to bring them there in the first place. The Watches can be used on the ship, but are prone to static and dropping calls. Communication is possible from Dorchacht, though voice and video both feel a little muffled.)

II. DORCHACHT It's déjà vu. While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Those from Aefenglom may recognize familiar faces, and they might find themselves looking twice at you, as if some part of them remembers you as well. Something seems... off, however. There are fewer Monsters in the streets than there were in the dream, though it isn't too hard to catch a glimpse of one here and there. The streets even seem a little more cleaned up than they once were, as one makes their way down them. At the heart of the city, dignitaries will be brought to the Coven. There, they're greeted by a slender and elegant woman, eyes bright and clever, but just as sharp as the red-lined smile that she offers her visitors. "Nerissa Bell," she begins, tone polite if clipped. There's the sense of a woman who won't waste words from her person, and she turns her eyes towards the dignitaries. "You must be the charges she spoke of. Mirrorbound, they call you?" A shallow inclination of her head, barely called respectful, as she smiles wider, in a way that would be kind if knives were made to be dull. "A pleasure. I am Morgana Drummond, head of the Coven here, and I welcome you to my city of Dorchacht, the safest haven against the Cwyld across all of our poor Geardagas." a. THE COVEN Morgana Drummond gives them a quick tour of their facilities, speaking lightly of the curriculum they have here that differs from Aefenglom's own (more of a focus in manipulation spells, be it the sort of commands that have become such a familiar sight to things such as perception and "paths" that can be seen through scrying, the other areas of practice more of "extra" than essentials) as well as allowing them to peek in on some lessons taking place. They won't be able to interact, but it is admittedly of a higher feel than what Aefenglom asks, though it's simply the seriousness of the atmosphere giving that impression. After showing them to where they'll be staying within the Coven's hospitality as well as mentioning the areas of their infirmary, library, and welcoming the Witches to try a hand at their lessons, she and Nerissa part from the characters as a whole to discuss the business of the month. There is a notable increase in guards, both around Morgana's person even within the Coven's walls, as well as the building itself. They seem to be in the business of keeping people on a kind of "railroaded" layout of the Coven building, but can be distracted for a quick peek -- the real help comes from those with triple stars hidden in plain sight, beneath the brims of hats and worn as idly jewelry and easily missed charms. These sympathizers will actively seek those out to speak with them, to let them know that even here there are those that would like to see change brought to Dorchacht, and assist in entering places that Mirrorbound otherwise would not be able to enter. Such as the library here, which contain higher level spells including the enchantments specific to the city walls. The history is just as muddled as it is in the later mentioned public library, the "when"s being vague and the like, but depicts Drummond's rise as the head of the Coven: She came to Dorchacht on a ship hailing from Aefenglom along with a number of other Witches and rose above the rest to become the esteemed leader she is now. Without her, many of the text will agree, Dorchacht would not be as it is now. Those with any notable signs of infection may be asked to step aside and allow Dorchacht's Witches to give them a check up -- better safe than sorry -- and this goes for Witches and Monsters alike. They'll be brought to the double doors that were so heavily secure within the dream, whether they'd like to be or not, and escorted inside. b. THE CITY Unlike the dream, things seem to be more... well-behaved. Auctions have been moved from the pavilion and in its place are genuine vendors to purchase from: Food, clothing, toys, trinkets, protective spell scrolls, all manners of things. There's still Monsters around, a little more tidy than before, but they hold the same stares they had in the dream, pinched expression and disinterested in conversation. There are signs that lead way to auctions if one is truly curious to see the extent of that terror, to gain insight on the situation there, but tailing someone might be hard within the twisting turns of the new bazaar. Another notable part of the city that can be accessed by those dealing in espionage include the barracks if they pose as hopefuls to join their ranks as handlers for their Monsters, which are collared in a familiar way to the dream, and seem reactionary to quick movements -- they're explained to be the essential frontline of what constitutes as a military force, very important, Mirrorbound Monsters beware you not suffer the same fate. The next place one might seek out is the library: While this is all deemed public knowledge, it offers insight into the kind of history and mindset that's been bred the past decade at minimum. Books regarding the dangers of Monsters, how to care and train them, practical spellbooks for those untrained by the Coven proper... The history books themselves are vague in regards to the "when" of things, and seem to be more contemporary in comparison to how old the city feels itself. There's a variety of more cultural knowledge such a cookbooks (including those dealing with monster parts) and floriography (more dour meanings compared to Aefenglom's flurous), but the relevant ones have been noted thusly. c. THE RESISTANCE Whether you're espionage or dignitary, those seeking the Resistance know what to look for: a trio of stars (some worn more openly than others), protests against the city's treatment of Monsters, and dispelling runes on the walls. Once proven that you're friend over foe, they're more than happy to have the assistance of any Mirrorbound in their company: A fight against the current practices is a fight they're for, after all. Riot! Disrupt the peace! The auctions, while a little more downplayed than in the dream, are still going, and the Resistance has good word on where they're being held in the grand city. Their goal? To cause a disturbance big enough to distract, but not big enough to catch Drummond's eye... that said, with her having to play the nice host to Aefenglom's associates within the main building, there's more to get away with. Free the Monsters! Whilst distracted, other members of the Resistance plan to dispel the runes in certain areas and smuggle off what Monsters they can, valuing quantity over quality. While the more mind-broken may resist heavily, it won't be hard to find Monsters of all kinds (save Dragons and Fae, which are notably absent from the auctions and city in general) accepting help to escape, eager to think for themselves once more. Find a way for them to escape the city safely, but know that the docks are heavily guarded in case of stowaways. Free the city! Kind of. A third party of Resistance members are looking to weaken the enchantment on the wall of Dorchacht itself, meaning they'll be looking for those brave enough to tread outside the city and into the Wilde just beyond its protective gates to take a look at and inscribe runes to hopefully diminish the compulsion in place right now. It won't be immediate, but it'll help in the future... just be careful, there's plenty of danger beyond the wall to contend with. As an interesting note, while the Resistances' bonded pairs are definitely unlike Dorchacht's compulsion-based ones, they're not exactly like Aefenglom's either: They call themselves comrades and partners, brothers/sisters in arms, giving it more of an equality forged from the same brass than something to do with convenience. (Notes: Those being willing, or unwilling, participants in the check-ups may reply to the top level there with how visibly infected they are for a special treat! Only for this month.)

III. AEFENGLOM Preparations for Meán Fómhair begin before Nerissa and the dignitaries head off on the 5th, but they seem a little quick even for the ever-festive people of Aefenglom: Apples begin the appear in great quantities to be used for later, some yellowed versus the red ripeness one thinks of when they're ready, there's hay bales tucked safely away for the days of, and there's little conversation to be made save for how things might be going in Dorchacht, though if any of the Mirrorbound try to join in they'll change the subject to Meán Fómhair in a split second, smiles thrown wider than the weeks before. Seems all is not quite as well as they'd like to appear. a. MARKET UP With the Parliament tense and looking westward, there starts to be gradual, but steady, increases in new appearances from some interesting individuals about the city. At face value they're no different than the vendors already found in great quantities, human and Monster alike, but one look at their wares proves different. The goblin market, as it's familiarly called, is somewhat accepted by the Parliament as something allowed to exist as part of their mercantile culture with Coven-approved medicines, alchemical practices, enchantments, so on and so forth, and only somewhat thanks to these known wares. Beneath these, with a dropped word or a curious eye, one can find things that are more than likely not sanctioned by either branch, things the vendors say can sate Monster and Witch alike without need of a Bond, though they decline to include the fact that such things are only temporary and that, like all hits, they'll need to come back for a greater quantity to get the satisfaction they need. Overpriced as they are (due to their private nature, it's high risk, surely they understand), they sell Monster parts of most kinds, Witch's Blood that may or may not be genuine, and what they call "extra strength" potions to mimic the feeling of a temporary bond without needing a second person to partake -- of course, you're welcome to share it, the more the merrier. However, this market hides a darker side, known more to those living among the aristocracy or who have the money and means to it, and characters are more likely to find themselves led there one way or another -- be it kidnapped or tricked, the black market isn't picky about how they drag their targets in. While Aefenglom prides itself in its fairness and equality, as in example with the goblin market not all is what it promises. Nowhere else is this more true than with the black market itself, using techniques familiar in Dorchacht to control their living wares, emboldened by the absence and turned heads of the government while remaining as discreet as they can be, they've ascended from the tunnels beneath Aefenglom to turn old houses into private auctions and the more deserted streets into bazaar-like adventures. Not all of these are unwilling wares, characters may find, and drawn by necessity for their own well-being or for their family's, but it's clear that a greater number are those from the Outer City. b. PROPAVANDALS Unbeknownst to Aefenglom's higher ups, Dorchacht has sympathizers of its own within this city's walls. While Bonds haven't been specifically dissuaded against, given that there's alternatives to the more permanent tethers, not all are in favor of changing completely. It's been ten years since Miss Bell gained her seating, such citizens'll say, and there's been decades prior where they hadn't needed that. That Monsterkind and Witches could be, and sometimes were better off, apart. Home remedies and extra practice, or finding a substitute, was all that was needed. More privately and growing in whispered popularity, that there ought to be more restrictions on the two in general. Once these words have started, both conversations planted as well as encouraged for thoughts already leaning a certain way, small attacks on those Bonded being to occur. They target the main populace and those with connections to the Coven itself, especially the Mirrorbound given Nerissa's alleged responsibility to them, and it seems they're well-practiced in hiding their activities because all investigations done towards the perpetrators, whether done by the Mirrorbound or officials themselves, will lead to only dead-ends outside the City. The culprits are hard to catch on foot, using the environment they'd grown up with to their advantage in escaping any manner of way -- it isn't just humans, but Monsters causing trouble as well -- but it isn't impossible... Just that they refuse anything but their right of silence on the accusations, claiming they'd had no part in anything, regardless of what proof might be found. The attacks and vandalism itself range from harmful messages appearing with magic on walls and doors, vaguely threatening letters written in ink that evaporates in sunlight, to fruit thrown and possessions left in tatters after breaking and entering. They don't stop at residential houses either, aiming for businesses held by those with any connection to the Coven, held by those with Bonds, and seek to cause any number of annoyance and distaste to those they attack. If it weren't for their Bonds, their Coven connections, they wouldn't be treated this way. That's the message they seek to send. c. UNEASY FESTIVITIES Come Septeril 21st, and lasting til the 23rd, Meán Fómhair is tentatively in full swing. The residents of Aefenglom are more on edge than during previous festivals save the red-hued Lithia, even once the first dignitary group has returned and the second left. There's barrels of apples decorating the street corners, but they don't seem as plentiful as they should. The games have a forced cheerfulness about them too, the unaffected being children who gleefully take part in each race, each competition, as well as the doctors with their cure-alls and promises of something to promote the harvest's delight, peddling medicine and medical advice to all who lend an ear with earnest grins and a profit to be made. The medicines are largely placebos with some possible side-effects for those that aren't, such as voice changes and intense cravings for various foods, but they seem to be very popular this year -- there's at least a couple merchants talking up the good fortune Dorchacht's stress has brought this year to one another, quieting down when they catch outsiders eavesdropping. With the continued attacks on those Bonded and Coven-affiliated, with one of their Speakers across the continent and the other sorely wrapped in Parlimentary business dealing with the attacks, the city holds its breath and tries to endure. Tries to be bright and cheerful while keeping obvious supplies behind their counters, to keep fright from their expressions and mind lest it invite the Cwyld to their midst, and ultimately drawing apart from one another in a time where unity is more than needed: Time will tell what actions might sew shut the new wound struck across Aefenglom.

Welcome to September's event log! The questions thread is split into two this time: one for Dorchacht, which can be found HERE, and one for Aefenglom, which can be found HERE. Please keep questions to their respective cities! This'll help both us and your fellow players in sorting information. Additionally, this event is a little special - we've prepare an OOC post to go along with it. Check it out over HERE - don't forget about it, as it'll help us see how things'll progress in the cities!

Comments

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Good, an escort. Berserker, too, is ready to fight the witch, but backs down after a moment. Any excitement or enthusiasm from before is long gone, replaced by a comfortable apathy. ]

You, too, then? [ It's not a joke for the dragon, however. Causing chaos and killing are truly what he's good at, to the point it's become a boring routine. The slaughter of hundreds of enemies? Nothing more than paperwork to him. ] You can call me Berserker, by the way.

[ Introducing himself is a formality, at this point. He knows Geralt has seen through the disguise magic already, but he's not about to reveal the entire truth out loud until they're in a safer area. He keeps his head down as they make their way out of the bazaar, trying to not draw attention to himself for once. ]

[niespodzianka]

[ Geralt is nothing special, in the grand scheme of things. Not a conqueror or a soldier, he's just a professional solver-of-problems. (Dreary, nightmarish problems.)

Berserker? Alright, sure. Currently, he's not sure who or what this guy is - he thought he had a handle on it, but his ability to ignore the command compulsion and odd smell don't add up right, so he figures he's missing something. But whether he's from Aefenglom or a part of the Resistance in Dorchacht, he's on the same side of the conflict. ]

Geralt, [ he offers. It's crowded, and tension runs through people amassed in the bazaar, having overheard the commotion and seen guards rush in while others rushed out. He's keeping half an eye on the monsters scattering and scurrying, trying to watch for anyone who might impede them. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker, in truth, shouldn't exist. He's a corruption of a Heroic Spirit, an impossibility. This is partially why he's so broken, so ruthless, and his violence is so dispassionate. His existence is pretty depressing.

He's willing to expand on exactly what he is and where he's from later, when they're not trying to avoid detection from local law enforcement. Berserker, too, is on edge, minding their charges and making sure they don't stray too far. They're outsiders and the people in the bazaar notice that. Suspicion is fine, whispers are fine -- no one seems to be rushing to rat them out.

There's no verbal response to the name given, just a nod. Berserker's too focused on their task of just getting out of here. It's so close and yet so far to the rest of the city, still separated by a good amount of distance. ]

We should hurry.

[ Their luck may be running out and he doesn't want to risk it. ]

[niespodzianka]

Yep.

[ But bolting isn't going to make them look particularly innocent, and the commotion might draw aggressive attention. Geralt swerves to one side and through a stall instead of the aisle proper, trying to break up the appearance of a line of people all hurrying one way. He'd rather get busted than a monster, be they local or from Aefenglom - he's confident in his ability to bullshit his way out of it, given various bits of cover story woven into his act here, lent to him by Dorchacht residents. The freed monsters will just end up in some dark pit.

A salesperson offers him a collar for his servants, missing the uptake entirely. That's.. good? Bad? Geralt glowers and swiftly moves on to the next one, trying to navigate in his head based on the last glimpse he had of the witch leading the way. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker also makes a detour to peek at the wares offered, occasionally casting a glance over towards their leader. The less suspicion drawn to the free monsters, the better. Unlike Geralt, however, no one seems interested in trying to sell the disguised dragon anything; his natural aura is enough to put them off.

Hm. Maybe he should just stick close to the other monsters, if this is the reaction he's getting.

After the second stall refuses to even speak to him, he makes his way back towards the uneasy group. There's potential for trouble brewing when someone approaches Berserker, questioning him about the uncollared monsters. He doesn't have good people skills, to say the least, and he can't start a fight here. ]

Why are you risking them without collars?

[ The dragon glowers at her in an attempt to get her to leave, but she's undeterred. An excuse isn't coming readily and it's making the asker agitated and suspicious. Violence is quickly becoming the only solution he can think of and, again, it is definitely not an option right now. ]

You shouldn't let them walk around uncollared. At least buy these cheap ones if you can't afford anything else.

[ Just a seller hawking her wares, just a pushy one. Berserker still says nothing as he tries to shove past her, but to no avail. She's not taking his silent treatment for an answer and he's quickly losing sight of their resistance guide. ]

[niespodzianka]

[ Ugh, lady, we're trying to do something here. ]

Some people only like collars in the bedroom, [ Geralt says, suddenly behind her shoulder like an intrusive ghost. She startles, not expecting the nearness, and attempts to sputter a response through startled laughter. ]

Oh, well, if that's what you're shopping for--

Yeah, they won't do. No offense.

[ She's taking offense, but Geralt is ushering this train on the move regardless. Let them think they're kinky weirdos getting off on the illusion of wild monsters running around. How scandalous. Scoot, pals, let's go. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Oh, he likes this one. A brief look of relief washes over Berserker's face before the apathy settles back in. She was their last obstacle before the exit and they're out into the city streets scot-free. It will be considerably easier to take their charges back to a safehouse for the resistance from here.

As a dignitary (ostensibly, anyway), his temporary home is in the Coven and by all means, he should return there. He's more interested in talking to Geralt, though, and at least clearing up some of the confusion about just what he is. So he'll see this through to the end. ]

You're very capable. [ It's similar to his earlier praise, but different enough he doesn't feel like he's repeating himself. ] More capable than most I've met.

[niespodzianka]

Thanks, [ he grunts, now that they're walking along, casual-like. ] You were pretty good back there. Took the opportunity.

[ Geralt is neither a strategist nor someone to act on emotional impulse - but he's no stranger to pointedly instigating when inaction becomes an untenable situation. Which this has certainly been an example of. He has no idea what to do about the overall state of things; hopefully the 'dignitaries' are working out better solutions. Or any solution. Something besides 'burn the whole city to the ground and forget we were ever where'. ]

You come over on the boat?

[curruid_coinchenn]

It's what I'm good at.

[ Chaos and killing. At least this time no one died because of him -- he knows better than to be the direct cause of starting a war. He normally doesn't do much beyond what he's ordered to; he has no passion for much of anything, least of all killing because it's simply become so routine for him. If his particular talents can come in handy, though? He'll put them to use as long as it creates a mess. ]

Yes...Not much of a dignitary, am I?

[ A joke of sorts delivered in an apathetic tone. ]

[niespodzianka]

[ War would be an immensely bad move for Dorchacht, and the rest of the world. But Geralt has no faith in people not to be stupid. Especially humans high on their own self-important power. ]

I'd be surprised if more than one or two people who went over had any prior experience with politics, [ he says with a shrug. ] It's been obvious since the start that we weren't invited to negotiate anything. This is performative.

[ But he's not sure to what end, yet. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker has no faith in anyone -- it's easier to deal with the inevitable disappointment when you have no expectations whatsoever. ]

I came only because my Bonded came. After that dream, I wasn't in a hurry to return here... [ To become nothing more than a tool for a mage (or a witch) to use again isn't something that should have bothered him, but it did. Now that he'd found a purpose in Aefenglom, having that stripped from him and returned to being nothing more than a tool disturbed him deeply. ] You're right, though. We're here for show. Nothing will change aside from what we force. Words mean nothing without action to back them up.

[niespodzianka]

So you are a 'monster'? [ A hitch in the flow of conversation to pick at his curiosity. He can figure out an enchantment to make him appear less obvious, sure, but the compulsion dodge is still stumping him. And of course, audible ironic air quotes around monster, because that tends not to be a nice thing to call anyone.

Geralt's not leading them anywhere particular. He's in between safe houses and rented rooms, at the moment, and knows he'll have to return underground (quite literally) the next time he needs proper rest. Fortunately he can go for a while, as he's not exactly in love with the sewers. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker can't exactly return to the Coven looking as he does now -- a disguised monster would certainly arouse suspicion. Not to mention the blood on his clothing...Oh well. He'll be fine. ]

Yes...I'm a dragon. You can figure out why I needed to hide myself. [ Not just a monster, but a rarity around here -- he couldn't remember seeing any other dragon that wasn't a mirrorbound. ] If you're wondering about the compulsion...Caster tattooed a rune on me to defend against that. My Bonded charged it for me. It only lasts for so long, though, so I have to be careful when I use it.

[niespodzianka]

Huh.

[ Interesting, all of it. The rune tattoo, particularly. A great idea, and if it's got a limited shelf life, he doesn't feel like too much of a moron for having attempted to counter an order shouted at Berserker. Nothing can be assumed to be fail-safe on a playing field they're mostly blind to. ]

Morgana's Bonded is the only dragon I've heard of in town, [ he says quietly. ] And I haven't heard anything about him. You know as-- a person.

[ Which is not great. Morgana's dragon, a leashed animal, a pet and a weapon, not a sentient being. Which it is. Geralt slows their progress near the door to a shop selling pastries, which is tidy and charmingly skewed to aesthetic sensibilities despite the dreariness. ]

Want to take a detour?

[curruid_coinchenn]

I don't think his life has much value outside of his use to that witch.

[ Berserker seems troubled by that. He's used to being identified only as his utility to a mage -- always someone's Servant. This didn't used to bother him, he was fine as being a tool for a mage to use with no identity or use beyond that. Now that he has a mortal body and a life of his own beyond a Grail War or his use in restoring the foundation of humanity, being nothing more than a tool isn't good enough.

He realizes he's been stewing in silence for a bit too long when Geralt asks his question. ]

I have nowhere to be right now...Why not?

[niespodzianka]

[ Geralt doesn't think so either. A sincere bummer. He's still very much not used to being on the 'higher' end of things, socially, and it leaves him feeling a bit lost. Witchers are outcasts, freaks, mutants - it's not unusual for him to be literally spit on at home, for people to desperately need his help and then run him out of town after. He is already literally part monster, mutagens from dozens spliced into his DNA, and yet ... Not here.

And then there's this city, really fucking with everything.

Anyway. He nods, and then turns to lead the way - kind of a convoluted journey through secret passageways guarded by enchantments and sympathetic Resistance members, but they end up, quite literally, underground. ]

Figured you'll have to put yourself together before you rejoin the Coven, [ he says, feeling like they can speak more freely down here. The sewers are a catacomb labyrinth, and pretty gross, despite their over-use by monsters and open-minded others. ] And you should probably do so from the other side of town.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker stays silent as he follows behind. Lots of things weigh heavily on his mind and he's not exactly one to give voice to his troubles, especially not to a relative stranger.

He does react to their surroundings, then again it's hard to find anything that will get a strong reaction out of him. This isn't the worst he's come through, by far. ]

Can you dispel magic? [ Geralt's right here -- it keeps him from having to find a resistance member to do it for him. The path of least resistance is the one most followed by him. ] I was going to take the longest path back. Away from the bazaar. I'm not stupid enough to make an appearance back there.

[ Not just for his undisguised appearance, but also because he knows better than to make a return to the scene of the crime so close to when it happened. ]

[niespodzianka]

Uhh. [ Can he dispel magic? On walls, sure, but he doesn't have what one would call a light touch. ] In theory, sure.

[ Uncomfortable with the idea of becoming a sorcerer, Geralt has practiced the bare minimum to keep himself from becoming ill, focusing on a few spells he can apply directly in combat and little else. He imagines he can give it a go, but they might end up needing to find him a local witch anyway. Fortunately, that shouldn't be too hard down here in the shadowy underbelly where all the rebels lurk. ]

Yeah. I've been kind of going back and forth since I've been here. It's weird-- I thought it would be harder for people to believe me about having roots in the city, but none of them seem to remember that far back.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ That seems good enough for him, even if he replies with a barbed joke. ]

In theory, you can dispel my disguise, then.

[ Aside from his borderline (and actually) criminal activities, Berserker hasn't talked to many people around here for any length of time. Not talking to people and keeping them at bay is kind of key to how he's been working, after all. ]

Strange...This city looks like it's existed at least as long as Aefenglom. How far back do their memories go, do you know?

[niespodzianka]

[ Geralt shrugs at him, indicating his willingness to at least give it a go once they find an alcove down here. Berserker seems like the sort who can tolerate the sensation of getting punched in the face without much of a hassle - which is about as gracefully as Geralt expects to be able to handle the request. He wouldn't try it on someone like, say, Waver. ]

No one I've talked to can give any concrete answers about life here before Morgana showed up. [ He shakes his head. ] And nobody else who hopped over unexpectedly has reported anything different, as far as I'm aware.

[ There's not exactly been an effort to consolidate notes, but he's chatted up who he can when opportunities have arisen. (Almost like somebody should get on that.. maybe even Geralt, if he knew how to fucking use the watch network! Oh well.) ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker would love to see him try it on Waver, though. While they get along well enough and are Bonded to the same person, he makes it so easy to bully him. ]

So nothing's right here and it all seems to surround her. [ Berserker doesn't really know or particularly care enough to look more into it. Just point him at the problem and he'll take care of it. The only problem he can see, of course, is Morgana herself. ] Killing her would create chaos and probably won't fix anything, unfortunately...but it would be satisfying.

[ He steps off into an alcove -- he's tired of this disguise business already. With a slight tilt of his head, he looks to Geralt. ]

Let's see if you can take care of this now.

[niespodzianka]

[ Geralt'll have to teach Waver how to handle a punch someday, seeing as he's teaching lil doggo how to fight. Something for Geralt and Berserker to chat about, assuming neither of them explode during this procedure. ]

Dunno, she might be a lynchpin for whatever spell is fucking up the population's memory. It'd be as likely as anything else.

[ But... okay. He comes to a halt and takes a look at Berserker, trying to get a feel with that seventh sense he recognizes as magic about how the glamour is affixed on him. Remembering the feel of the slips of charmed paper, he reaches out-- and pauses. ]

If I knock us both back, just know I didn't do it on purpose, alright?

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He's a good boy, even if Berserker wants to throttle him on occasion. ]

If someone murders her, as nice as that would be, it'll probably be used against the monsters here.

[ A sobering dose of reality and, honestly, one of the reasons he didn't target her. His loathing of her runs deep and he'd love nothing more than to throw her to monsters she's likely at fault for subjugating, but not at the cost of those that live here.

Berserker's face remains indifferent as Geralt reaches out for him. ]

You're smart to give me the warning. [ Otherwise, he may have gotten violent in response. You know, the usual. ] I asked you to do this, so if it fails and backfires, that's my mistake.

[niespodzianka]

[ Sometimes, people gotta die. Killing Radovid back home had ended the official efforts to purge witches and non-humans in Redanian-controlled territories, but there hadn't been a strange spell over the place and looming, apocalyptic plague. (Just a normal, makes-you-type plague. But also war. The north is very tired.) ]

Mm. [ That's a dramatic statement, but Geralt's used to dramatic people. Alright. Here we go.

He raises his hand again and finds his focus. This, at least, he can do. He lets his vision glaze over, looking inward and elsewhere, finding the edges of magic cast by someone else. It doesn't feel like it did at home, the easy forms of his loyal signs, but he thinks he's got it, if he can just get his proverbial grip and pull--

The disguise splits and peels off Berserker like a giant, forceful banana, an inexplicable shimmering shockwave rippling over them both, scattering sewage and dust. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ That feels weird. That feels very weird. It takes a lot of willpower for him to not pull away and fight it --he did ask for this. Once the dust (and sewage, ew) settles, Berserker's left looking considerably less human. Black horns curve back over his head, black scales that glint crimson peek out of his shirt collar. Large black wings with red veins, and a matching long, spiny tail complete the inhuman appearance. It feels much better to be back in this form and not have to be as mindful of his extra appendages. ]

...That's better. [ Minus the sewage. ] Have more confidence in your abilities.