[Closed]

[rollstoseduce]

Who: A metaphorical wolf, an actual wolf, a bard, a swordcat, a rat king, a poison king, a horse with wings, a horse with a bug fish name and a wyvern eta and now a second horse
Where: National Park
When: Some time during 4th wall
Summary: Sparring! Powers! Potions! Animals! Secrets revealed, oh my!
Rating: let's give it an R for naughty jokes and references in narration



So you want to fight a witcher?
>Yes
>No
>Gwent

Comments

[vrdantwind]

Mm - the hide is fairly thick on the body. Probably about as much as your wyverns, based on what you're saying. The problem is the wings. [Claude runs light fingers along the membrane of Mori's outstretched wing.] They're obviously a lot more fragile, and they're pretty easy to hit on a flying wyvern - even if they're constantly moving, they're usually in the way of the body or the rider in any case, and the movement is as likely to move a wing into the path of an arrow as out of it. And any damage to the wings, if it doesn't completely compromise the wing's function, takes awhile to heal, so a wyvern hit by an arrow is often laid up even if it and its rider survive.

Any damage to a wyvern's wings with any kind of weapon is dangerous, but obviously only arrows and magic can hit a wyvern when it's in the air - which it always should be in combat. Magic can hurt a wyvern regardless of its thick scales, and its rider too. But arrows tend to compromise the wings specifically. And since the wings are so much less robust than the rest of the animal, you really don't need as heavy a bow to do that damage. It does mean that a lighter arrow that doesn't hit the wings of a wyvern is going to be useless, though, unless it gets lucky enough to hit the rider. Or the wyvern's eye or something, but that's a once-in-a-dozen-lifetimes shot that most people couldn't even luck into making.

That said...I'm honestly no expert on pegasi, so I couldn't say if their resistance is because they have some magic of their own or if it's just a defensive adaptation that's got no bearing on any magic they do or don't have. [He shrugs.] Truth be told, in my world pegasi only ever really seem to tolerate women riders. So if you're a man, there's only limited utility in learning about them - it won't be information with any personal application to you. And my country had very little in the way of pegasi in any case, with my people - and their literature - holding a very low regard for them, so I was even more at a disadvantage for learning about them. I've done a bit of study since, but truth be told...well, there's so many subjects to study, and only so much time! They just kind of fell by the wayside as a subject.

[lovelybottom]

Hm. The tactic is probably more of use to you than me. Most wyvern that I encounter stay out of crossbow range until they dive, and you're more likely to be presented with the profile of the wing than the broadside when they do. Easier to aim for center mass than to try to hit a narrow target. It's a different story if you're in the air with them.

[Hence why the maneuverability of military wyvern would be so important. A witcher doesn't get to choose how a flying wyvern approaches them in combat; a mounted wyvern knight could.]

I haven't heard of a creature having such a strict sex preference outside of their own species.

[Not one that carried throughout the entire species, anyway. Certain individuals, of course, could have preferences based off of past experiences, but it's interesting that the species as a whole has such a bias towards women that it's made training men to ride them a rarity. He almost wishes that a pegasus rider had been brought here from their realm, though it would perhaps be cruel to wish for someone to be snatched from their home.]

I would have liked to know more, though I suppose it wouldn't make much sense for a prince to bother much about an enemy's mount, outside of its weaknesses and tactics.

[vrdantwind]

[Oh, Claude has to admire that little sleight of hand Geralt tried to pull on him. It's like an amateur poker player trying to bait out a card shark, but it's a subtler, trickier play than Claude might have given Geralt credit for. He can respect the slyness of it.

He laughs aloud, cocking an eyebrow at Geralt.] A prince? Is that what I seem like to you?

[It's an implied denial while not quite being one, although Claude could deny it on a technicality. (He's upgraded to king by now, after all.) But if Geralt wants to draw him out - and Claude's not entirely opposed to telling him the truth, especially if he's already come as far as guessing this close to it anyway, making any meaning to keeping secrets here moot - he'll have to try harder. Take a more direct approach. Claude's not going to be tricked into revealing things, much less let Geralt think he can be.]

[lovelybottom]

[Geralt is a little irritated that Claude, apparently, will not be prodded into revealing information on his own. He's almost entirely sure that he's correct in his assumptions, based off of what Claude himself had told him, likely when he thought that there would never be any inconvenient proof showing up on his doorstep. While it's annoying that Claude would have withheld information from him about wyvern solely to obfuscate his social status, it is at least consistent behavior. He can assume from here on out that when Claude tells him something, it's probably true, but not all of the truth.]

Are you going to try to tell me that white wyvern are common in your realm? [Direct confrontation it is. Geralt's always been better at that form of attack, anyway.] You can't sell me a lie that big. So you're a royal of some sort, by your own admission.

[Prince, king, whatever. Claude could proclaim himself the Queen of Zerrikania for all Geralt cares.]

Why bother with the subterfuge? No one here knows of your kingdom but your own friends, and you must know that I wouldn't pay deference to your title.

[vrdantwind]

No, I won't try to tell you that. [Claude says it almost absently, eyes on Mori as he strokes his neck with a gloved hand.] White wyverns are bred exclusively for the kings of Almyra. I was crowned about two weeks before I wound up here.

[He glances at Geralt.] The subterfuge is...really just a habit by now, I guess. Dimitri and the others didn't even know I was Almyran when we arrived here, much less that I was royalty. I had to tell them back when we had the talk about us all dating each other...it wouldn't have felt right to keep it from them going forward, at that point. But the thing is, they never knew it when we were back home.

[He shrugs, with a slight smile.] See, my mother was the daughter of the duke of the Leicester Alliance - a country in Fodlan. Fodlan is where Dimitri and the others are from. Then my mother ran away from Fodlan and married my father - the king of Almyra - and had me. The problem is, Duke Riegan didn't have any heirs...so when I went to visit Fodlan as a teenager, I found him in ailing health ringed by a bunch of nobles who were jockeying for a controlling say in the country, most of them self-serving idiots, and he begged me to become his heir, for his sake and the Alliance's. The problem is, Fodlan and Almyra hate each other...never mind the political confusion of the prince of one country serving as the duke of another. So I had to hide my background to do it.

I agreed, partially for the novelty but also for the experience - I'd gone to Fodlan to learn about the land of my mother, after all, and putting in time as the heir of the Alliance's highest-ranking noble opened a lot of doors that would've otherwise been shut. I knew it wouldn't be forever, but I figured if I could get the Alliance to a position of stability, it'd both satisfy my grandfather and give me solid footing for becoming king back home. Long story short, I more or less managed it, although not exactly in a fashion anyone would've predicted.

[He's still petting Mori, which seems to be more idle displacement activity right now than anything.] So, like I said, I've gotten used to hiding that sort of thing. And with you...well, you're right that I didn't think you'd care what my title was. But that cuts both ways, really. If you weren't likely to care, what was the point of talking about it? I thought if I just randomly brought it up, you'd think maybe I wanted deference from you...and I figured that perception would be a fast track to your liking me even less.

[lovelybottom]

[Claude's life, apparently, has been one giant tangle of subterfuge and intrigue. The prince of one nation, the grandson of the duke of another, serving in one but allowing no one to know his true origins, lest they undoubtedly think it some kind of powerplay. So he has learned to lie as easily as he breathes, out of necessity.]

[It makes sense, or at least it does if he's among his Fodlan peers. People to whom all of those political machinations would matter to, not a witcher who isn't even from the same world as him, and doesn't care about the intrigue between Almyra and the Fodlan nations.]

It's true, I don't care much for nobles. For the most part, I find them to be vain, deceitful, and generally more trouble than they're worth.

[A scathing review, truly. One of the few good things about nobles is that they have to money to pay well, though they are far more stubborn in parting with their wealth, so even that's a paltry virtue.]

Felix is a duke, and Dimitri is a king. Jaskier is a viscount. I regard them well enough. [Thanks, Geralt, for that understatement.] Knowing that you're a king as well changes little about how I regard you, though it perhaps gives me a better understanding of you.

[Claude will withhold information from him if it's convenient for him. This is valuable to know; it means that Geralt can temper his expectations of the truth accordingly.]

[vrdantwind]

Well, you've never regarded me well. [Claude says this with a faint, wry smile.] And certainly nothing I've ever done has improved matters. The best I can really do is try to avoid anything that could make things worse...but hey, if I'm playing into your view of deceitful nobles, then even that's backfired, right? I'd probably be better off not even trying at this point.

Except you matter to Jaskier, and to Dimitri and Felix, and they matter to me; I want to get along with you for their sakes. And, more than that, I respect everything I know of you, so you're someone I'd honestly like to have as a friend. That makes it pretty hard to just give up on caring what you think of me.

[lovelybottom]

I would regard you better if I could trust you.

[He doesn't think that Claude is ill-intentioned, exactly, but trustworthiness and ill-intentions aren't exactly the same thing. A man can mean well but still not be someone that Geralt trusts.]

Do you not think that those you would regard as friends are owed the truth, even if it's difficult for you? You lied by omission over something that you knew wouldn't matter to me, because it was easier for you that way. What basis do I have to think that you wouldn't do the same over something that does matter?

[vrdantwind]

Ah, yes, because you've warmed to me so well the times when I've been nothing but honest with you.

[Claude's words have a brittle quality, like cracked ice with edges sharp enough to cut oneself on.]

Geralt, I don't know how to say this politely so I'm not even going to try - nothing I've done, for all my best efforts, has led to you liking me better, so excuse my skepticism that there's anything I could do to make that happen at this point. You'll also excuse my saying that my trying to befriend you, despite your almost active hostility to that, does not actually make us friends. What my friends may or may not deserve doesn't apply to you. And I've never seen the first indication from you that you want to be my friend in the first place. You want whatever interesting animal lore I might have to share, and you want me to shut up. That's been about the extent of it, right? So the idea that you are entitled to my trusting you, someone who very obviously does not like me at all, enough to expose my biggest vulnerabilities to you in order to earn your trust? When you've given me nothing? That's actually pretty wild in the entitlement department.

[Claude sweeps a hand toward Dimitri and the others, standing off a little ways and no doubt wondering at the look on Claude's face right now. Claude has perhaps...never gone off on someone like this. At least, not that anyone here has seen.] Do you see Dimitri and Felix and Sylvain over there? Have you ever even met Annette and Lysithea and Ashe? Friends of mine from home. And I will never know if I'd have those friends if I'd been honest. I sure as hell didn't have any friends before I was able to lie! And the reason I'll never know isn't because I neglected to test if they'd have given me a chance or not, being Almyran; I never even would have gotten that far. I'd never have been allowed to attend the Officer's Academy where I met any of them in the first place. Whether or not I tell people these things about myself literally determined whether or not I even had the chance to make the only friends I've ever had.

Exactly one person not related to me by blood, in my entire life, has known the truth about me from the beginning and not wanted me dead for it. And believe me, some of the people related to me by blood want me dead, too. So do you think honesty on this subject - the most dangerous subject to me - is something I can, or should, give easily to people? To people who don't like me, for instance?

[Claude steps forward, practically chest to chest with Geralt. The fact that he's signficantly smaller than Geralt means nothing to him in this moment; his green eyes are blazing.] Your best justification that I should've trusted you with information that's always been dangerous to me, that frightens me to trust anyone with, is that you don't give enough of a damn about me and my world to even care about it, much less use it against me. That's not a comfort, you know. That's just your treating something incredibly personal to me as meaningless to you. Thank you, by the way.

I could live with that, though, if it stopped there. You've got no reason to care about my world's politics. But you also obviously don't care how hard it was to share this, or why it's not something I readily share - not even when it's explained. Your only concern is whether or not I have any right to hide things from you. What I want to know is what right you have to expect such massive concessions from me in exchange for a chance at the barest civility from you. You're a good man whose friendship I'd like to have, Geralt, but there's a limit to how much I'm prepared to bow and scrape for your favor in exchange for scraps. No, not even that - for just a chance of perhaps being given scraps.

You were never entitled to this, Geralt. And when I've just been honest with you about something that I've just explained has every reason to terrify me, I have to think that just about the lowest thing a man could do in that moment is use that as justification to complain about my dishonesty and blame my very reasonable disinclination to have trusted you more on your not liking me better. To turn my vulnerability into a chance to judge my character as lacking some more. You don't give a damn about anything I just told you or what it means to me, do you? You clearly didn't pay any attention to it. You're fully focused on yourself and what you don't like about how I relate to you. Which really makes me wonder why I should have told you at all! Seems like I've just spent a few minutes distracting you with some nonsense you don't care about anyway, so why are you bothered I didn't tell you sooner exactly? What would it have changed? Why in Sothis' name do you care?

[He huffs pure simmering rage through his nose.] ...and for the record, my friends cared about what I told them, and why I'd held it back. They cared about how it made me feel. None of them complained they were entitled to better when I opened myself up to them, somehow. So that you think you can preach to me about how much better my friends deserve, and act like you can count yourself among them...like I said, it's wild.

[lovelybottom]

[Claude's anger appears to have attracted some amount of attention from the rest of the group-- Jaskier is out of sight, but the others still can see their fellow's anger. Judging from their faces, it's rare to see him make such a display of anger, and perhaps for that anger to have come on so quickly. Just a few minutes ago, after all, they were talking without hostility at all. It must seem like a sudden change, something that's come out of nowhere, unless they've been listening in more closely than Geralt assumes from their distance.]

[Though now, with that hostility there and his eyes bright and furious, this may be the first time they've spoken where Claude has less of a chameleon's face. Perhaps it's not entirely gone-- perhaps Claude doesn't know how to let it go entirely-- but this is more than just words, words, words. Most of the time that they've spoken before this, it had just been moving air. He could have listened to Claude speak for hours and not come out of it knowing any more about what he thought of anything of import. It's a talent of diplomats and nobles, to be able to speak at length without saying anything at all. This has substance to it. Heft.]

[He speaks of entitlement, and there is perhaps something to that. Claude owes him nothing, neither explanation nor trust. And it is true that he valued his knowledge about beasts and preferred him silent otherwise, as one of his dearest hobbies seemed to be prying into the witcher's personal business, something he himself was not entitled to. It wasn't his place to push and prod like he and Jaskier were game pieces, moving them about for his amusement. That he was doing so with good intentions only matters to a certain extent; Jaskier was not the only person involved. But, then again, as he'd asserted-- Claude owes him nothing.]

[There are a few questions within the monologue, but they are clearly rhetorical and don't require an actual answer. It is, again, a true assertion that Geralt has difficulty caring about the machinations of a world that he barely knows anything about, and Claude seems to have little care for Geralt's world, in turn. Or, at least, little care for any perspective that isn't Jaskier's, a one-sided view of it that's more to his liking.]

[You don't give a damn about anything I just told you or what it means to me, do you?]

[Geralt snorts; his face, up until this moment, has maintained the stoic neutrality that he's able to hold even when confronted with stones and an angry mob. Underneath wry annoyance, there is some spark of true anger that he won't allow to surface. Claude has always been good at getting under his skin, another demerit to his name.] There's something of a hypocrite in you, Claude.

[Geralt had given him information about secrets of his school that it had taken Jaskier years to get out of him, in order to correct a misconception before it got out of hand. And Claude had, brazen as you please, looked him in the face and told him that he didn't believe it, as though he would know more about witchers than Geralt. As though he would know more about the Trials and what they could do than a man who went through them more than once. He could have gone into more detail after that, tried to impress upon him the importance of what he'd been told, but after such audacity, what more did he owe him? More secrets that wouldn't be believed?]

[But, perhaps, there is one thing they can agree on, as Claude ends his speech.] You are right, at least in that. We're not friends.

[It might have been an insurmountable task; for all that Claude is like Jaskier, he's apparently not alike enough, or alike enough in the right ways, to recreate what the bard had done.]

We understand each other. If you're finished, I'll leave you to your mounts.

[vrdantwind]

[Claude's voice is cool when he responds. Not icy, anymore, but cool like breeze off the water.] No, I'm not. [He says it with the certainty of a man who's already considered this angle, because he has.] The only things you've ever shared with me that you could be referring to, I rejected because the conclusions didn't make sense from the evidence I've seen - and because I thought, and still think, that your believing that hurts you. I rejected what you said because I've paid attention to you, Geralt, and because I care about you and how you feel about yourself. I just happen to care more about what might be good or bad for you as a person than I do about blindly taking you at your word.

You don't have to like that - there's some arrogance in making myself that judge, I won't deny it, though I think I have good reason for not trusting your view of yourself any more than Jaskier does. But you also don't get to pretend that's the same as not caring about you or what you've shared with me.

[Mori, upon Claude's anger, had snaked his head up, and has been looking between Claude and Geralt ever since. There's something extremely calculating in the wyvern's eyes; he seems to be assessing threat and tone, moment by moment, in a way that displays a level of intellect in the animal that he hadn't yet demonstrated before. He's not making any kneejerk reactions, either, not lashing out at Geralt despite Claude's fire; this wyvern knows Claude on a level that clearly runs bone-deep. He sees hostility in his rider, but doesn't move to offer hostility himself - perhaps recognizing some wish of Claude's that hasn't been articulated, or knowing from past experience to let his rider deal with his own problems in certain areas. Either way, it's impressive discretion.

Wyvern, however, seems far less tolerant. He snorts angrily at Geralt, stamping a hoof, although he makes no other move. He doesn't seem to appreciate anyone his rider doesn't.

Claude, for his part, ignores both his mounts, running a hand through his hair. When he speaks again, his voice is far more even, measured.] In any case, nothing much has changed. I didn't mean anything to you before, and I don't now. I had no right to expect differently, any more than you had a right to feel entitled to the rights of someone who cares. I've said my piece, and that can be the end of it. As you said, we understand each other - so there's no point in anyone holding a grudge.

[And Claude closes his eyes and exhales, slowly. And Geralt can, likely quite literally, smell the anger leaving him. It had already been lessening as Claude spoke, but now it's simply breathed out like a mouthful of smoke.]

It's a nice day. It'd be silly to ruin it for each other, or anyone else, over absolutely nothing changing between us, right?

[When Claude opens his eyes again, they're clear, and he actually smiles at Geralt.]

[lovelybottom]

[There could, perhaps, be a continued argument over whether or not Claude has the right to determine what is or is not harmful to Geralt, as though he knows him, but at this point, it doesn't matter. Continuing to argue will get both of them nowhere, and the longer this is dragged on, the more likely it is that others will be drawn into it.]

[In his peripheral vision, Geralt sees Mori's head move, the tilt of his head as he watches the two of them. Sensitive to the emotions of his master, apparently, and waiting to see if he'll need to intervene. Geralt isn't concerned; he has no intention of hurting either of Claude's mounts, not when the reason for their hostility is simple loyalty. Nor does he plan on provoking them to attack. If they did, however, Geralt has no doubts that he could handle one below-average size wyvern and an irritated horse-- it would just be deeply inconvenient to have to do so.]

[Claude, meanwhile, reins in his temper quickly; remarkably so, for a human. He's had practice, more than what Geralt would expect even from politicians and diplomats. They're good at keeping their emotions out of their face, but not from wiping them out of their scents, too. The witcher doubts that he's doing it deliberately to quiet his scent-- humans can't even tell what they smell like-- but it is effective, regardless. The resolution that he proposes is extremely practical, especially considering the previous high tension, and Geralt isn't opposed to ending this before someone more high strung gets involved. Jaskier, namely, though Felix also has a temper and a sword, too.]

I see no reason to spoil the day when this can end here.

[No reason to make this any more of an issue than it already is, and, indeed, over nothing at all changing in their relationship. No love lost between them. Claude smiles at him, and his scent is... clear, at least. No traces of anger. He is still unsure as to whether this is because the other man is truly not angry, or if it's because he's particularly skilled at suppressing his emotional response. Geralt does not return his smile, but that's hardly unusual because Geralt rarely smiles at all. Who knows, his face might crack if he tries.]

I'd appreciate it if you'd calm your wyvern, as well, before he decides to try taking a bite of me.

[Because wouldn't that be a hell of a way to end this nightmare of a conversation-- with a wyvern trying to take a chunk out of him.]

[vrdantwind]

Nah, he won't bite you. Mori's never tried to hurt someone who hasn't been at least intending to hurt me first. Isn't that right? [He reaches out to rub Mori's neck, but the wyvern's head was already lowering before Claude even touches him. The wariness does indeed seem to have subsided along with the scent of Claude's being upset...hmm. That could be food for thought for Geralt - whether Claude might have learned to control even his scent through the response of the wyvern he, by his own admission, grew up alongside.

(Claude's done nothing of the sort, of course, and it's a stretch to even consider it. Having to suppress, even dismiss, his own emotions has been both required in his life and, frankly, a lot easier to achieve than controlling his smell would ever be. It's also got more concrete payoff. But, well, Geralt may be suspicious enough to believe Claude can conceal his scent over the possibility that how Claude smells is an honest representation of his feelings.)]

Whatever you might be, Geralt, you're no assassin. And you've never hurt me even when more short-tempered men might have felt I'd given them more than sufficient provocation. As long as that holds true, no animal of mine is going to hurt you.

I was actually thinking I'd offer to spar with you today, since I've got my Crest back for the moment and this is the least disadvantage I'm likely to ever be at with you. [He makes no bones about him still being at a distinct disadvantage.] But since these guys will be spectating, we'll definitely have to make some sort of impromptu arena area for it. They will defend me if they think I'm being attacked - even Wyvern's broken some assassin bones for me. And they may not discriminate between a lethal attack on me and a non-lethal one before they respond.

[He shrugs lightly.] But Almyra's got plenty of arenas, and they've grown up to understand those. They know they're not allowed to interfere in arena fighting unless I bring them in with me. So as long as we get that idea across, it'll keep them pacified.