SHIELDMAIDEN

             her feet ached from being stood the duration of the night. the feast roared around her. tankards clinked and conversation grew loud and unruly. the fire burned brightly and warmly in the great hearth and the braziers that hung low from the high ceilings. condensation coated the inside of glass windows. her watch duty would be finished soon - nothing too eventful had happened during the evenings celebrations, she doubted it would now - most were too drunk to stand. She grasped a tankard on her way to the balcony. once outside the cold air washed over her skin, she lifts the tankard to her lips and takes a swig, filling her cheeks.

       she leans back against the cold frosted stone. her gaze scans across the horizon.  the milky blue waves and the moonlight reflected in them. it seems so peaceful out there, worlds away from the hot sticky loud room behind her. she glances to her right as another figure joins her on the balcony. 

      ‘’  Don’t stand too close to the edge.’’

        she crinkles her nose as she sniffs at the thick ripe caps of the blowball the jarl had asked her to collect. she places it down on the table besides the other herbs and ingredients from the list the Witcher had requested. ‘’   what do yer need all this stuff for ? ’’ she furrows her brows, fingertips hovering over the various vials and jars he had brought with him. 

            ‘’    they’re just ghouls can’t yer just.. craczh’’ she makes a noise with her throat as she gestures a stab in the throat. 

sciathmaidin‌:

despite his would-be guide’s insistence, istredd packed light. he wasn’t a fan of pyromancy (or much fire for that matter), but he knew a few clever tricks to keep himself warm without being weighed down. a harmless little stone encouraged to hold heat would do well enough. it could serve to use his chaos as a warning should something sneak up on them as well. his concerns were far more considerable than bandits and brigands but the stone would alert him to those as well.

istredd wasted little time eating a meal before his meeting at the stables. an apple, a heel of bread, and a flagon of ale. he made sure the two bags he brought with him were full of the most necessary supplies and little else. by habit he was a light packer anyway. it did pleasantly surprise him to find that his guide hadn’t been all bluster and was, in fact, waiting for him at the stables.

istredd listened to her warnings and attempted to hide his amusement. while he understood she was likely doing her job, he was already several times over her age and could do a thing few others could without being consumed by madness. a mage - a battle mage at that - scarcely needed a woman with a sword to protect him. that being said, he was sure she was skilled enough to dispatch anything that came their way without his help.

“istredd,” he replied, taking her hand and shaking it. “please don’t mistake my academia for weakness. just as you are skilled with your weapons, i’m skilled with mine. shall we begin, then?”

              and there it was, that unfathomable arrogance that befell every mage she had come across - the only exception being Ermion, but he had far descended into his eccentricity to care what people thought about him. ‘’Aye well. I dont care to find out.’’ she purses her lips and takes a bite from her apple. with her heels she nudges her horse into a light trot. the horses on skellige were not perhaps the fine horses at court he was used to. they were hardy - muscular and stocky with strong legs and wide hooves. They were used for everything from farm work to working in mines to treks and hunts. Joryas horse was as black as her own hair, its long mane was neatly brushes and braided to avoid knots and matting.  ODIN. she had named him.

      ‘’   the crypt is about a days ride into the mountains if we make good time. we wont be able to take the horses the whole way, the entrance is underwater so... yer best be able to swim.’’ she says between bites of apple. she didnt like strangers. she’d much rather be doing well.. anything. hunting.. culling the sirens.. even watching ermion talk to trees. 

     ‘’   So what is it yer lookin’ for?’’ she looks over her shoulder to Istredd. the cool breeze blowing wisps of dark hair into the air.