{ 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 feels the heat of Lan Wangji's Igni bloom at his side. The other hag lashes at him with her tongue; her grabs it in one gauntleted fist and slices through it with the sword, then cleaves her head off with a heavy backswing.

[lightamidchaos]

The hag recoils from the flame, and as she does Lan Wangji lets it dissipate as he lunges forward with a precise strike. Bichen splits her head in two through her mouth, and she collapses to the ground.

He turns to Geralt, sees that the other is dealt with, and offers an apologetic small bow. "Too much. I did not singe you, did I?"

[bialy_wilk]

The witcher shakes his head. "It was a good trial run," he says, gruff, and looks up at one of the stone pillars where a dwarf is excitedly waving his arms. "Men! Hah! Am I ever pleased to see you!" he calls.

"We talked to your friends," Geralt tells him. "Come down."

"Right! I'm comin'." The dwarf bustles over to the edge of the rock and begins seeking a handhold. "You lucky devil, you," he compliments himself. Apparently in a chatty mood, he keeps talking as he begins the climb down. "You know, I've one regret. That – ah, ah, ahhh – !"

One slip of a foot, and his shriek follows him as he plummets to the ground.

[lightamidchaos]

The dwarf does not appear to be paying attention to what he is doing, Lan Wangji notices, as he takes a step or two to the side to watch him descend. He sees him slip and throws himself forward, using Bichen to yank himself into a speed that would otherwise be impossible.

It is not enough to catch the dwarf completely, but it is, barely, enough. Bichen spears through the back of the dwarf's tunic as he plummets, and then Lan Wangji's hand is on his arm in a hard grip as he slews him sideways into a hard tumble to the ground.

[bialy_wilk]

The dwarf groans as he rolls and staggers to his feet, but he's alive. Geralt jogs over, casting an unimpressed glance at him. "You're lucky Lan Wangji was here," he says. "I wouldn't have been able to catch you."

"Ah," groans the dwarf – Ivo. "Aha. Yes, thank you, master. Saw me life flash before me eyes, I did."

"Let's not make a habit of it," Geralt says, dry. "Come on. We've got two more of your mates to find."

[lightamidchaos]

"Be more careful," he says, with a level look. "Can you make your way back safely on your own, or do you wish to come with us?"

[bialy_wilk]

"'Tisn't far," the dwarf says. "I'll head back, tell the boys you found me."

Geralt looks as skeptical as he feels, but he keeps his doubts to himself. "Fine," he says. "Right up the path. Don't stop for anything. And avoid any of the thick patches of fog."

[lightamidchaos]

He turns to Geralt as Ivo heads back, moving quickly. Hopefully nothing has moved in to replace the harpies.

"To the height next?" he suggests, as he tries to visualize where the two remaining dwarves are likely to be in relation to each other.

[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."