[center][h2]Geralt of Rivia [/h2]
Snowdin
Lvl 15 Geralt (201/140) -> (202/140) 170% OL Charged (Lvl 1)
Word count: 469 words [/center]


Taking the mug and the advice with a quiet word of thanks, Geralt slowly sipped at the coffee while mulling on what Grillby had told him. Their quarry was tattooed, reveled in a challenge, and immune to pain. The easiest way to find him would be to draw attention to yourself with lights and, presumably, some noise to accompany it. The other part of what he said also intrigued Geralt, that Snowdin was the safest place to be. Fighting was an integral part of the World of Light, so he understood, with sacrifices needed to fuel those Flame Clocks like the one they’d seen on Consul I’s ship by Mafia Town. Snowdin avoiding that was interesting. It could be a number of things, from hunting wildlife to surrounding areas hosting the Flame Clock, and thus Snowdin being a small hideaway spared the worst of the World of Light. 

Regardless, he filed away the information mentally and began sipping at his coffee as he thought of ideas. He didn’t have much in the way of methods to produce much of a light show, bonfires aside, though in a pinch he could fire off a Holy Lance to try and get some attention if he found a clear and high enough spot to do so. It was the mistletoe that he found his thoughts turning to. What exactly was the manner of weakness? Did he have to ingest it? Or would simply being near the toxins be enough? Would they need to coat their weapons in residue from the plant? Such vague advice they’d been given, but leave it to a Consul to help in the most impractical manner. 

Once he finished his drink, he gave Grillby a nod and emerged into the streets of Snowdin. He caught a glimpse of Sectonia being led around by a tall skeleton man, and decided not to join their little tour. He’d get more pertinent information later. Looking the other way, he saw Edward with a tremendous wagon, his chosen companion having run off to greet the two riders he could see on the edge of town. So, he approached the general with a nod, raising his hand to his ear to contact Sandalphon. 

“Sandalphon, this is Geralt. Just wanted to inform you that I’ve gathered some information about our Guardian. Invincible, tattooed man who revels in a challenge. Only thing he’s interested in, apparently. Easiest way to find him is to not be here in Snowdin, and to make one hell of a racket. Specifically, a light show. Figure if we find a high enough spot and make ourselves known, he’ll come right for us. But we’ll have to make [i]sure[/i] he sees us, and we’re ready for anybody else who comes to investigate. Not keen on getting us into a twenty-way fight.”