Fetzen

𝖨𝖬𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖳𝖠𝖫 𝖮𝖣𝖸𝖤𝖲𝖲𝖤𝖸

Vekyzz' state could probably best be described as 'silently unhappy'. An unconscious Karlus in front of him, an abysmal abundance of sewage below him and more mages around him and it felt as if all of these things were just waiting for an opportunity to haunt him. This mission had gone completely out of control and part of him was even willing to just let it go and not to try and regain it. But what would the company say then ? They probably would already be quite unhappy when listening to his report so far. Once more it dawned upon the tiefling that he'd need a damn good line of defense when it came to this...

The horned man had sat down in a cross-legged fashion close to the rear end of the large boat, a position that would grant him a bit of an advance warning time for whatever would raise its ugly head in front of them. However it could not protect him against the stench... This just didn't feel like ordinary sewage, but something more odd. The entire place felt sick, but he couldn't pinpoint it down to a single source. Did the inhabitants above this cavern even know what was below their feet, their nice little houses and busy taverns ? Well that question was assuming that they even still were below the city. Vekyzz was no longer entirely sure about that after all. What he was sure about however was that any kind of organization had to be very desperate in order to pick a place like this as its base of operations.

The tiefling had managed to avoid an inadvertent bath in the disgusting mess below them, but only with luck. This delapidated dock clearly was in no shape to support him properly so it had been a dance around each and every supposed weak spot and a nail-biter as far as the rest was concerned. A glimpse of hope that the air might become less aggressive towards his nose and lungs had come up in the moments after they had passed the magic door (an extremely intriguing contraption indeed!), but once they had crossed paths with the next corridor he could only wonder why they had not thought about installing a second door right there. It seemed to smell even worse!

Then however he had spotted a disturbingly familiar sight, even through all that irritating stench and darkness. From then on Dantel's and Phideas's words had not had the same relevance for him as before. Quite frankly the most important thing that now that their explanation had ended was left in his mind was simply 'it only affects elven-kind'. Or, in other words, he could go in there!

"Personally I'd like to forget about rest and food for the moment, I just need an important bit of information: Can you tell me the identity of the individual with white hair and nipped ears that is lying in your little infirmary ?" Before walking in there he wanted to be sure... Vekyzz was back fully awake, various indications that he wanted to sleep vanishing rapidly.

Dantel's gaze rose for a moment to meet Vekyzz before falling again in thought. He murmured something to himself before looking back up. "Curious. You must mean the informant. She calls herself Tali; though I'd wager that isn't her birth name."

Phideas looked from the group over towards Dantel. "They must be the foreigners she spoke of."

"How fortuitous, indeed. I'd suggest you make haste if you seek her counsel," Dantel paused for a minute. His face contorted with a subtle wince before continuing. "The plague is upon her, quicker than with most we've treated."

"By Minerva's blessing we'll find a cure quickly," Horatz added.

"Preciously what we wanted to speak with you all about. You have my blessing to speak with your associate, and to get rest. I will discuss our plans in greater detail come nightfall."

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Hmmm... Choices, choices.

Every crazy doctor can nourish himself using the needlessly amputated limbs of others. Also if nobody prepares a watch there will be more injured people around once fecal matter makes a rendezvous with the air impeller, making the food job much easier in case things work out way too well and peacefully inside the castle.

Soo... Making camp is it!

How many of the ten companions of the bastard will remain outside?

hey

A fellow software engineer, and even almost in my time zone! Welcome!

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

So just as a heads up, the collab going on between me and Stormflyx can be posted as a retrospective as well so there is no need to wait for us @POOHEAD189 :)

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

"Liar!" Týfurkh's voice bellowed through what remained of the tower's base hall and probably well past the large hole in the roof that the falling bell had caused.

"One question, guard's captain..." he started to explain. "Why should anybody climb to the top of the belltower at late afternoon ? So he can ring the bells ? The ropes that need to be pulled to move them are down here, not way up there. Attack some poor, innocent cultists in the base hall and subsequently on the platform ? Possible, but this isn't exactly the most intuitive place for searching them. There would have been easier ways to find some cultists as, as Nieffar actually pointed out correctly, there have been confrontations on the open street."

Týfurkh paused, catching his breath before continuing.

"What if I said we, the people I belong to, had a reason to get to the top of the belltower that was not ringing the bells and that we found it to be vacant at first. Then Nieffar's men stormed the place and attacked us! All things considered this scenario doesn't pose fewer difficult questions than the other, but it also isn't less plausible!"

Nieffar would find himself confronted with pretty much the angriest stare Týfurkh could muster. The latter frantically searched his memory... Was there anything more he could say ? Maybe even anything to prove what he had already said ?

"So I left you, poor Nieffar, with this stump of a hand ? Well I think I have the right to defend myself with all means when being attacked while trying to escape! Guards... look around. I know this ground has been trampled upon very much, but there are chances you might find traces of steel scratching on stone or sand around the exit door giving indication that someone was dragged around. These traces end just where I am lying, so -- also considering how many people around here wear armor suitable to cause this kind of scratches -- how likely is it that this someone wasn't myself! And if it was myself why should I burden my own people with dragging me while I can still walk ? The only scenario that comes to my mind that makes sense and isn't extremely unlikely is that I have been dragged against my will... by him and back into the tower!"

Týfurkh pointed straight at the sightless.

"Why would anybody who is in a purely defensive position pull any fleeing attacker back to himself for the purpose of continuing the fight ? Tell me how this would make sense, where my theory about who was being dragged into which direction was wrong or simply don't believe stump-of-a-hand's words!"

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

I'd like to address a small side question concerning my character: How old does the average Aen Seide become, excluding those causes that in the time period of the RP might be the dominating factors shorting their lives (hunger and being killed) ?

@kassarock has already given me the hint that at least in the latest game there is a 600+ years old character, but either I'm just too stupid to find it or there is indeed no definitive answer on what the natural lifespan is. Can anybody help me out ?

Just wanna know if I'm indeed playing the elvish equivalent of a roughly 5 year old human infant or not (just kidding!)

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Nilfgaard... For the average Temerian crossing the Yaruga to the south would have been a quite dangerous endeavour these war-torn days, but Tyrvariél knew that he was anything but average. He had been pretty much of an outcast for the whole of his life, but this probably was one of those rare occasions when this might actually work to his advantage. He did not wear any kind of headgear or bandana so to blatantly expose his pointed ears to every soldier and Scoia'tael who'd happen to cross his path. He certainly did not want to be mistaken for one of the former by the latter and have to pay for this with a fight. Also rumors had it that the ruler of these lands had more belevolent intentions for his kind. Wasting those would have been a folly, too.

Tyrvariél felt a little afraid, maybe even a little more afraid than those who would have to fight any monsters. Unlike those he did not have the task of throwing himself into one live or death situation after the other, but what he most likely also would not have was the respect of the party or anyone to share his true thoughts with. There weren't that many Aen Seidhe around in the first place, but with the bias caused by a high ranking human being in charge of this party he had no reason to expect more than one elf among its members -- himself. Everything else would have been a surprise.

A surprise he could see early on wouldn't come true. There were some trees and quite a lot of bushes around, but a campfire and its smoke gave easy directions. Even before Tyrvariél reached the campsite his eyeballs had already detected plenty of those around. All humans, most importantly the bastard son who seemed to wait for everyone to arrive. Better not to challenge his patience too hard...

He gave his horse a gentle nudge for the final bunch of yards, but the steed was somewhat exhausted and, quite obviously, very heavily laden for such a long journey. Acquiring such a proud and much more capable beast like the one that had just been called 'Charlie' was an issue even if one had the coin. The last breeder Tyrvariél had tried it with had been some ignorant snot from a village near Toussant, the man's last mumbles before closing the door having been something like 'lack of knightliness and overall relevance!'. Well that guy had become pretty irrelevant for the elf's memory, too! Overall one could argue that Tyrvariél had become a very profound eradicator of memories when it came to those he didn't like or care about. Efficiency came with training one could say, even if it wasn't voluntary.

Not being cared about however wasn't anything anyone of those present at the campsite would have to worry about for the moment. For the Aen Seidhe they currently all were mysteries he, somehow, would have to deal with for an undetermined amount of time. It felt only natural for him to start gathering information about them immediately, even if that meant focusing in on the not so nondescript rear of the woman that was Avery. Was she a sorceress ? Well if she was then, at least from Tyrvariél's humble and magically uneducated point of view, she had already missed the most powerful act of magic any human could hope to achieve: Giving birth to such a nice set of shapes.

But who was he to get stuck on stuff like this ? At least one of the anonymous crowd around Balidvar had started to stare at his stare and it felt disturbing. How many of those men had the bastard brought with him ? Tyrvariél guessed roughly a dozen, but for the moment he decided to ingore them. There were more interesting individuals around. The witcher, for example. Or rather... one of the two witchers that seemed to be around here, easily identifiable by the exquisite pairs of swords they carried around. One was a hulking man, but Tyrvariél had come a little too late to find out about his Skellige accent. He sat close to his more slender, slightly taller 'colleague' if one even wanted to use that term, apparently trying to get some kind of conversation started with the other who was more focused on his weapon right now. Something told him that it might be the better option to leave them alone at the moment. Witchers could be unpredictable, even though he had only faced one or two of them as customers so far.

The next who came into the elf's view was Nadia. She looked like a fighter, but with a touch of her own and that was not the her more dark complexion or her height. Were it the many, but only light scars here arms were littered with that triggered the imagination of a whirlwind so fast and ferocious that her enemies simply couldn't do more than that to her ? He didn't know enough about the Naizairi region to identify them as as the markings they truly were, but even with that knowledge she still would have had that certain aura.

Having run out of people that immediately caught his attention Tyrvariél was forced to turn his focus back to himself. How long had he stood on the spot right now, just turning his head while the richely adorned edges of his armor had been looking as if burning in the upcoming sunlight ? He didn't know, but it definitely felt too long and embarrassing. Also he'd have to turn his attention to the remainder of the camp, including the tents, mules and supplies. He wouldn't be able to do his job properly without equipment and not all of that had been suitable for transport by himself.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

So as a heads up it seems I have fallen at least partly ill and might not attend to my daily routine as I am used to. Combined with the last weekend this likely implies that I won't be able to get my starter up until friday evening, which, I know, breaks the weekly posting precept.

Sorry :(

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

*le poof* a mage appears!

@Stormflyx

Apparently the collab disappeared with a *poof* as well :/

Now I can set up my post in a hurry in order to meet the weekly deadline since I've been waiting for said PM instead of doing anything.

The Witcher: Under the Shadow

Excellent!

If anyone would like to collab hit me up :)

@Stormflyx

I'd like to if it's allowed :)