{ pfsb } The Isle of Mists

[bialy_wilk]

He'd had to force himself to slow down, to take their time as they traveled. First to Novigrad, to speak with Zoltan and Roche; then to board a ship to Skellige, where Ermion agreed to assist without hesitation and where Queen Cerys offered the aid of her finest knight – her brother, Hjalmar. He gets a message to Triss, does his best to do the same for Keira and Letho, somewhere in the wilderness.

Geralt sends them all to Kaer Morhen, and knows it won't be enough.

Lan Wangji is a quiet, reserved traveling companion. Geralt feels a pang at separating him from his husband, but it's not enough to make him want to send the cultivator back. Selfishly, he wants the man here, in case Ciri is in trouble. In case he needs to send her with her friend while he himself holds the path behind them.

They rise early, travel all the day, and camp at dark. On the ship to Skellige, Geralt meditates, his only other option to prowl the decks like the wolf of his name. And once they've reached the islands and found their allies, Cerys gives them a small sailing dinghy and sets them on their way.

Geralt steers them to the very edge of the archipelago, past looming, jagged rocks and endless tracts of gray, wavering sea, until they reach a place where the mists curl ethereal fingers along the edge of Lan Wangji's robes. The witcher heaves the little boat to, then reaches for the bottle he's stored in the qiankun bag Lan Wangji had gifted him what feels like a lifetime ago. "This had better work," he mutters, and uncorks the glass bottle to free the firefly spirit which Avallac'h had conjured. It flutters into the air, then describes a slightly wobbling path into the gray, hazy depths of the mists which stretch before them.

Comments

[bialy_wilk]

He nods, and turns to look along the shoreline. "Looks like a watchtower over there," he says, and points. "That'd be my guess for where he'd go."

[lightamidchaos]

"If not the highest place on this island, it might let us spot what is," he agrees. "If the mist allows. Still, it is a place to begin."

Bichen flashes back into its sheath, and Lan Wangji falls in beside Geralt once more.

[bialy_wilk]

The lighthouse is old and derelict and unlit, but at least it isn't infested with wraiths or harpies. The witcher leads the way up the path to it, grimly focused. There's no one on the bottom floor; he tips his head to the ladder and starts climbing.

Midway up, he pauses. "Do you hear... snoring?"

[lightamidchaos]

He nods, eyes narrow. The snore breaks, followed by some muttered words, then another loud snore.

"He does not seem affrighted," he observes, dry as dust.

[bialy_wilk]

Geralt sighs, and keeps climbing.

The second dwarf is slouched against the inner wall of the lighthouse, snoring loudly and muttering in his sleep. The witcher crouches in front of him. "Hey," he orders. "Wake up."

"Shoo..." mumbles the dwarf. "Back t'bed, Nibbles."

[lightamidchaos]

He truly, truly does not wish to know who or what 'Nibbles' is.

"Wake up," he repeats, firm and clear. The dwarf jerks awake with a start.

"What's happening? Who are you?" he demands, looking at Geralt.

[bialy_wilk]

"I'm Geralt."

At least the dwarf is awake, now. "Your friends asked me to find you, Ivo, and Ferenc."

The dwarf looks solemn. "I'm afeared they're dead," he murmurs. "Some horrors swarmed Ivo. Saw it with my own eyes. And Ferenc... I heard him. A blood-curdling cry, then the roar of a beast."

[lightamidchaos]

"Ivo lives," Lan Wangji assures him. "We will seek Ferenc."

[bialy_wilk]

"Let's get back to the hut," Geralt tells him. "We'll protect you along the way."

The dwarf brightens and pushes to his feet. "Shame about Ferenc," he observes. "But what can ye do? Come on. But I should warn you, I suffer from narcolepsy... ooh – "

He sways on his feet and Geralt sighs. "I know what it means. Don't worry, we'll keep you awake."

The dwarf yawns, jaw-crackingly wide, and moves toward the ladder. "Off we go, then."

[lightamidchaos]

He descends the tower in silence, the dwarf between them, musing on what he has just heard.

Why under heaven would his friends have left him to wander alone if he is so at risk of falling asleep anywhere at any moment? It makes no sense to him, none whatsoever.

Lan Wangji shakes his head at the foolishness of some people and starts back with Geralt to escort Gaspard safely to the hut.

[bialy_wilk]

The dwarf yawns as they climb down the ladder and again when they get out of the lighthouse, and, incredibly, even as a bank of fog swirls in and coalesces into the form of foglets.

"Foglets," Geralt shouts to Lan Wangji. "Hit them when they're corporeal."

[lightamidchaos]

He makes a sound of acknowledgement and keeps Gaspard between himself and Geralt as he fights. Speed and timing are essential, especially with the witcher's advice.

Fortunately, Lan Wangji is skilled at both. One of the foglets flashes into a physical form, reaching for the dwarf, and is met with the edge of Bichen's blade across its chest in a swift diagonal strike.

[bialy_wilk]

Silver sparks fly into the air as Geralt tosses a Moon Dust bomb, forcing the foglet he's fighting into corporeal form. It shrieks and lunges at him with curved claws; he lops off one of its hands and turns swiftly to avoid its charge.

[lightamidchaos]

Gaspard yells in fear and crouches on the ground, hands over his head. Lan Wangji spins as Geralt turns out of the path of the foglet's charge and slices over the dwarf and into the lunging creature.

[bialy_wilk]

The foglet flickers around Bichen's blade, then slumps to the ground. Geralt spins and slices his silver blade across the other foglet as it solidifies. The creature shrieks and dies, leaving them in the mist's muffled silence.

... Almost. "You've got to be kidding me," Geralt mutters, and strides over to where the dwarf is curled, fast asleep and snoring, on the path. "Hey!" He nudges the dwarf with the toe of his boot. "Wake up!"

[lightamidchaos]

"Right, right, just a wee bit longer," the dwarf mumbles.

"Unbelievable," Lan Wangji mutters. "How has he survived this long?"

[bialy_wilk]

"Makes you wonder how many of them there were in the beginning, doesn't it?" The witcher nudges the dwarf a little harder. "Come on, get up."

Gaspard yawns and blinks groggily, then climbs to his feet and staggers along with them until he wakes up a little more. "Know much about this isle?" he asks, apparently feeling as chatty as his friend.

"Almost nothing," Geralt tells him, leading the way along the path.

"You know it ain't on any map," the dwarf comments, and Geralt shakes his head. "A common characteristic of enchanted islands."

[lightamidchaos]

Gaspard gasps in wonder. "You think it's enchanted?"

"Mn," Lan Wangji observes, eyeing him.

[bialy_wilk]

"So what is it that brings you to this strange place?" the dwarf wants to know.

Geralt glances along the path that branches, then takes the left-hand path which leads them back up along the slope. "Looking for someone."

"Here?" Gaspard's tone shows how surprised he is at the thought.

"Just kind of turned out that way," Geralt points out, then nods ahead. "Hut's right up there."

[lightamidchaos]

Gaspard nods and stifles a yawn. "This place seems safe enough," he agrees. "Just be sure and come back - and make it quick, eh? Not that much to see here."

"We do not plan to linger," Lan Wangji informs him, very, very coolly.

[bialy_wilk]

The dwarf Ivo waves amiably to his compatriot, and Geralt turns back to Lan Wangji and the path.

"One more," he mutters, as they head back down towards the shoreline. "Not too excited about that roar Gaspard said he heard."

[lightamidchaos]

"I agree." Lan Wangji slants a sideways look at him, then returns to scanning the countryside through the mist. "If he is lucky it will not have eaten him. Yet."

[bialy_wilk]

"I wouldn't take bets on it," Geralt says, grim.

His expression only turns more sour as the path leads them down into a misty, swampy area. He holds up a hand to pause Lan Wangji, and kneels down to study an immense depression in the wet soil. "Fiend," he mutters, and takes out his bottle of relict oil to re-coat his blade.

"Relict oil, if you have it. And they hate loud sounds, so your guqin will come in handy. Don't let yourself look at its third eye; it can hypnotize hunters with it."

[lightamidchaos]

"I will remember," he says, as he reaches into his qiankun bag for the correct oil.

"If you secure its attention I could use the Chord Assassination technique."

[bialy_wilk]

"That won't be a problem," the witcher says, desert-dry, and nods to the swamp. "Let's go."

Maybe the only good thing about fiends is that their large size makes them easy to spot. Of course, it also makes them annoyingly difficult to kill, and gives them a real advantage when it comes to fighting. In this case, he hears the fiend and sees its immense shape materializing out of the gloom at almost the same time, then signals to Lan Wangji. "Watch out," he mutters. "They move faster than you'd think for such big creatures."

So saying, he shifts to the side, away from Lan Wangji, and raises his voice. "Hey! Over here!"

The fiend – right now looking more like a small hillock in the fog than a living creature, raises its head up... and up... and up. It towers over them, as tall as a hut, its many-branching horns like an old oak tree. Seeing the witcher, it bellows a challenge, paws angrily at the earth, and charges, each wickedly sharp prong aimed towards his gut.