TEST DRIVE MEME #3

[fairyfoes]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Considering apping to EACHDRAIDH? Why not give the setting a test run here! OPTIONAL SCENARIOS 01. ARRIVING IN THE DRABWURLD. The Seelie and Unseelie courts welcome you with mirthful revelry and hearty food. After you have been briefed on your purpose here, you will find an endless feast and a night filled with entertainment to placate your concerns. Mingle with new arrivals, sneak down the castle halls and make sure your eyes are always on your glass; fairies and imps have no bias when it comes to tricks! 02. THE STATION. Looking for a little slice of home? The Station gives you all that and more. Take advantage of the wifi, have a cup of fairy-brewed coffee (the one they didn't spit in) or sit back and relax on the patio. You can even move your things into one of the available rooms! 03. WILDCARD. Your own scenario! Explore the Drabwurld or simply take advantage of your Locket!

Comments

Re: Geralt of Rivia | The Witcher | Unseelie

[avisionofwar]

[ Like a cat drawn to movement, the elf flows towards the low hum. His half-plate has been cleaned to a silver gleam, a ready contrast to the fine wheat-gold of his long hair, which has been pulled up into a neat knot. To his shoulders is pinned a rich purple cape emblazoned with the same symbol found all about the great hall: the king's emblem.

They are almost shoulder-to-shoulder when the statement is spoken; and in reply, there's first a quiet, purring laugh. Celegorm's bare hands each hold a goblet of wine; but one, he offers to Geralt. ]

The food and drink is only that. The matter that will keep you here is far more grave.

[destinysword]

[ An elf, far more richly attired than any elf Geralt has ever seen, offering him a drink? He takes the goblet, though he doesn't partake just yet. Even if the food and drink is okay, he's suspicious of anyone offering him a cup.

He's got a lot of enemies, is all. A lot of people who'd like to see him dead. ]

I take no sides in fights political or military. [ Technically. It's never stopped him from having opinions, or helping people where he sees fit. But technically true. ]

[avisionofwar]

[ The elf's thin mouth twisted a little, and he sipped soundlessly at the drink he held, pale eyes flitting to watch the rest of the feast. ]

You may find you have little choice. The Seelie will kill you, if offered a chance. For your shard, if not for pleasure.

[ There's a dull, memory-laden tone to the words. The tone old soldiers get, when despite themselves they remember the too-close-calls and slogging through the mire made by mud and the blood of their comrades. Slowly, he shakes his head. ]

But the Queen is gracious, and does not begrudge those among her chosen who elect instead of serving to carve their own path through the world, despite the peril.

[destinysword]

I'm used to people wanting to kill me. People, and worse things. I've survived this long.

[ More or less. Except for that farmer with the pitchfork in Rivia, but that was a lucky shot. ]

So she'll just let us go, no catch? [ That sounds too good to be true. ]

[avisionofwar]

[ Celegorm was a courtier as much as a knight, and he dipped his sharp chin in a gracious, shallow nod. His wheat-gold hair barely rustled with the movement. ]

None; though many of us have banded together beneath her banners despite that freedom, to honour her graciousness and protection, some to advance their own causes, others as a means to protect those of the court who have little skill in arms. It happened not long ago that a number of those from the far court broached the walls, and cut their way through many to thieve a treasure of the Queen's.

[destinysword]

So she's gracious for forcing us all here to fight her battles, is she?

[ Geralt has never liked presumptuous monarchs. The last one he served ended up dead, and he wrongfully took the blame for it. NEVER AGAIN. ]

[avisionofwar]

[ Celegorm did an alarmed double-take. ]

Didn't they tell you what was at stake?

[destinysword]

The stakes are always high. And I am sworn to take no part.

[avisionofwar]

Fair. [ Celegorm was hardly going to argue against the terms of an oath. ] What do you intend for yourself, then?

[destinysword]

[ Geralt shrugs, glancing around at the revelry that surrounds him. He's used to standing apart, but he doesn't stand out nearly as much in this crowd as he's used to, even with his unnatural white hair and yellow eyes. ]

Find work, I suppose. Until I can find some way back to my own world. I have pressing business there.

[avisionofwar]

[ Celegorm's lips pressed together, thinning almost bloodlessly. ]

If you're earnest about finding a way, seek out Lord El-Melloi II. I'd stake my life that he knows more than most of us put together.

As for work, if you're willing to make your wages by the sword, [ And he has the look of one who does. ] Ganondorf is fair to his men. More than fair, even. Otherwise, you may find good employment as a guard to those determined to travel.

[destinysword]

I've been a bodyguard once before. It didn't turn out well.

I'm a monster hunter by trade. A witcher, though somehow I doubt that means anything here.

[ Where he's from, it means a great deal - a great deal of fear and suspicion follows him around, that is. And he doesn't usually have to tell people what he is - one look at his eyes and the pendant he wears says everything. ]

[avisionofwar]

[ Nope, no bells rung. But at 'monster hunter', the elf's expression goes a little more cold, his slow blink slightly serpentine, the mask of charm lowered for a barely perceptible beat. But his warning is silk-smooth, the smile returned swiftly. ]

I wouldn't speak the words 'monster hunter' overloud, stranger. By the standards of mortal men, a great many of us here would be known by the title of monster.

[destinysword]

I don't kill sentient beings without cause or thought. [ The witcher code forbids it, and Geralt's own personal code as well. ]

Trust me, in my world, many think me a monster as well.

[avisionofwar]

[ That revelation begs the obvious question, ]

...Forgive the impertinence, but... Why?

[destinysword]

[ Geralt raises an eyebrow, almost curiously, as though to say 'isn't it obvious?' Then he waves a hand vaguely at his own face. ]

Witchers are mutants. The training process we undergo changes us. I'm no longer fully human, by most standards.

[avisionofwar]

[ Changed, he says, and Celegorm's lips part; a little in horror, a little in fascination. ]

As many of the Eldar were re-fashioned under the weight of the mind of Morgoth Bauglir, perhaps...

[ The words are so soft that he's clearly speaking to himself; and adds, louder, ]

In what manner were you... changed? And of what nature, the process?

[destinysword]

[ Geralt's eyebrows quirk again, at the strange words, but he doesn't ask. Doesn't pry. ]

Alchemical, mostly, and some magical. For heightened senses, a stronger constitution. I can drink potions that would kill most humans. I've been trained from a young age for one purpose.