[center][h2]Geralt of Rivia [/h2]
Frozen Highlands- The Midnight Walk
Lvl 15 Geralt (207/140) +7 Collab XP +40 Tale Reward XP -> (255/140) 280% OL Charged (Lvl 1)
Word count: 744 words [/center]



The promise of food served to stir Geralt’s form far sooner than any other offer might have. He still took a good while to rise, but he did so eventually, recovering mostly by the time they reached the stagecoach. Pulling himself into the carriage, he collapsed into the bench seating with a heavy sigh, leaning against the wall. 

He was off his game today. Hunting the Reindrix had gone quite smooth, but after that, he felt as if he’d done very little in the way of productivity. He hunted a few mutated wolves to keep them from ambushing the group from behind, and then he promptly got eaten alive by an oversized lizard. Once that was over, he got his ass handed to him tactically and physically by the self-proclaimed ‘Puppeteer of Death’ (though he’d gotten his own hand up on her). 

Nonetheless, he took a healthy (if bordering on greedy) portion of stew from the pot, hungrily chowing down. He thought back on the fights with Tom and Markiona, and each time his undoing had come from rushing in blindly without properly assessing the situation, which was rather unlike him typically. The influence of the Spirits he’d fused with was likely the cause, though it was hard to pinpoint any one. The Orphan made him more prone to fits of rage, while Ishmael helped temper his attitude. Karen Tarvers had likely made him more rigid and perhaps a bit desperate to achieve his goals, so it was a fair guess that it was the cause of at least some of his issues. Flynn and Tartaglia had been absorbed at the same time, so he couldn’t pin any real personality changes to either, but he’d felt more optimistic since then, and more comfortable if reckless in a fight. 

As he ate, Sandalphon revealed that her investigation had shown that it was a combination of disease and the elixir that had caused the animals in the zoo to transform. “Hmm. Matches with what Eryk said, at least. He got worse only [i]after[/i] consuming the so-called miracle cure. Hopefully he remembers to stay away from the stuff now.” The request to gather everybody’s collected Ergo came as a surprise to the Witcher, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. “Why do you need the Ergo?”

Sandalphon's pupils betrayed nothing. "In Markiona's penthouse laboratory, I found some research material suggesting that ergo has some sort of spiritual power that may be used to enhance our abilities," she answered truthfully. "Thus, I believe it has more worth in its current material state than it has in monetary value." After a brief pause, her pupils became dollar signs. "If you desire recompense, I regret that I cannot compensate you currently, but I will memorize the amount owed so that I can reimburse you as soon as I'm able. If my word is an insufficient guarantor...I understand, and you need not comply with my request."

Geralt nodded, his own pupils staring into Sandalphon’s. She was, when she wanted to be, utterly inscrutable. In some ways, she reminded him of Yennefer. In others, they were polar opposites. “Sure.” He said, rising partially to reach across the stagecoach and hand her the bag he’d been given, replete with Ergo crystals. “Don’t worry too much about paying me back. If we can use that for other purposes, I don’t mind spending on the cause. We’re all better off if we can [i]all[/i] benefit from it.” He had no designs on Markiona’s spirit either, so her request for it went quietly unchallenged.

As the stagecoach traveled through the valley, they passed through a standoff between two groups, each seeming to create strange creatures via the use of impossible devices that materialized them from coal. As some of the others went to investigate, Geralt remained within the stagecoach, sitting in meditative silence. He contemplated how they would make use of the mistletoe on Baldur. Would it be as simple as smashing the berries onto his skin? Did they have to force-feed the immortal, which would prove as much a challenge as battle? They could make a tincture and apply it to their weapons akin to his blade oils, hoping to envenomate the Guardian.

He supposed they could try each of the methods, depending on how much they managed to grow in those strange devices that Roxas and Ganondorf had found. When they had the plant in hand they could broach the topic further, as well.