valley o plenty? jury is still out

[evil_isevil]

WHO: Geralt of Rivia
WHEN: April 1st to 5th
WHAT: Daily shit
WHERE: Tavern/Inn, Vasari area, enroute to check out Roselake
WARNINGS: C'mon, this is Geralt we're talking about. Anything goes.
NOTE: Put a location in the header please!

Really, life hasn't been all that bad since arriving. Even if he didn't have either of his swords or a horse to travel around the area with, no one was treating him differently because of who he was and what he did. In fact, some even seemed more inquisitive than uncomfortable when he lingered somewhere where others congregated.

As the weeks move on slowly one into the next, Geralt finally earns enough for a pair of swords, silver and steel, as well as a new horse which, of course, is given the same name as all the other horses he's ever owned. There was even some gold left over for some new leather armour. Yes, the Witcher was feeling far better now about travelling beyond the city limits of Gazin.

When he's not studying his map over a cup of some strong alcohol down in the tavern of the Inn he has a room at, Geralt finds himself in situations where he's "helping". Be it a lady who needs her cart pulled out of a mud slew or an old man who is being pestered by a menacing group of wanderers for money and items of worth. He even found himself rescuing a cat from a tree that was surrounded by three dogs. Had it not been for the devastated girl pleading for his help, the Witcher would have let nature decide the fate of old fat tabby.

If it wasn't raining, Geralt was wandering the area, learning about the bestiary and advertising himself to the remote farms that dotted the countryside, keeping mostly to himself and quietly missing the companionship of a certain bard, though he'd not admit it.

Comments

[radishlobbyist]

Well. That... is an answer and one she can't even be annoyed with since it is polite enough, it is just not the answer she had been hoping for. Namely one which would tell her whether the man is a local or another hapless visitor from another place and time.

Maybe there are cues in his manner or dress or the make of his weapon but his and Jon's and that of the other people in town all just look equally foreign to her inexperienced eyes.

Well. Nothing to do but forge ahead. "So am I. I'm originally from Qishan. I've been hoping to run into someone who is familiar with this wider area, specifically with magical ruins. Do you know the area well?"

[evil_isevil]

Usually, the lack of politeness scares most off; his mood and deep gravelly voice not helping to dissuade this one like it normally does. But Geralt is reminding himself more and more that this place doesn't seem to have a problem with Witcher's or even know what they are. So far, he's finding that both a blessing and a curse.

Geralt says nothing after she speaks, yet sees a certain tenacity and finds himself curious in return (though it doesn't show) with her obvious interest.

Especially with magical ruins.

Without taking his gaze off her, Geralt pokes a finger at Gazin and then moves it to Roselake and then over to Vasari Forest before stopping on the town of Caerlias.

"What exactly are you looking for?"

[radishlobbyist]

She follows his finger on the map, wondering if he has actually seen these places he is pointing at. Nothing but his word for that even if she asks since she hasn't explored well beyond the town yet. A mistake, maybe, it occurs to her now, but not one easily remedied until she has either convinced Xue Yang or Jiang Cheng to accompany her, or become more proficient in wielding Zidian to fend off whatever dangers she may encounter by herself. Even then, cultivators are not suited to fighting alone, they were always meant to night hunt and travel in groups.

Her eyes find his again, taking in the color which strikes her as unusual, though maybe that is simply the eye color to go with his hair.

"I'm looking for magic the likes you can't find here in Gazin, something about," she hesitates, thinking how to put it into words when she's not even sure what she needs, "transportation. Across great distances." Across time and space and to other worlds, but she can't tell that to a stranger in a tavern, he would think her drunk.