#archespore

[pickleforstony]

In my defense, this is totally lore-accurate. Your honor.

caution nudity below

Everyone needs a hobby. Don't judge me.

[acrowamongsparrows]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 6 - Annoy/Holiday

Orange and yellow light flickered silent against cobbled walls around them as the four men rounded another corner of the labyrinth that lay beneath Jamurlak. The city was ancient, built who knew how many years before, and it could have been assumed that the city had been built on top of another entirely. There was an old joke about a king who built a castle three times. The first one sank, so he built another one. The second sank as well, so he built a third. It burned down. But the fourth one stayed up. Try and try again.

"And so that's how they go the Cintra's strongest castle," Janus chuckled as he ducked his head down to avoid what could only be assumed was moss on the ceiling. His hand was held in front of him with the lantern lighting the backsides of the men in front of him. No one else laughed with the bard. "Oh come on now, it's a funny story."

"No it's not," muttered Alfred, a long knife held in one hand as he crept along ahead of his brother. "It wasn't funny the first time and it's not funny now."

"Well 'Wally', I think we're all well aware of your sense of humor or lack thereof," Janus made a face at his brother's back as he stalked along. "Why am I in the back anyway?"

"Cause we all know how you do in a fight," the younger brother snarled quietly back at him, annoyance clear in his tone.

Janus could only make another face and mimic his brother with no real barb to throw back. He knew how was with swords or knives. Crossbow was his best bet, unless it was a full moon and they were crazy, it was best for him to handle the lantern. At least for some.

Ahead of Alfred in the line was Eld, his creaking step muffled by a wrapped cloak causing him some difficulty in his gait but at least kept him quiet. The cloak was the least of all their worries as the four of them were wrapped from head to toe with whatever clothing they had to keep their exposure to the minimum. As Eld had explained to them all, the sap of the spores was terribly corrosive to flesh as he made for them all to see by the black scarring along his neck. All it took was one bauble of the flowers and it would go downhill fast. To help with keeping the creature at bay they had doused all their clothing heavily in vinegar causing quiet a stench at first before they entered the sewer and were mildly grateful for the sour note that clung to them now.

The witcher did his best to ignore the men behind them, their banter back and forth reminding him why he always viewed them as the same boys who nearly burned down the west tower at Kaer Seren. Pushing each other's buttons as much as they could until one or the other broke. It was very clear who was still always the victor in the 'game'. There was a song pang in his heart for those years and a missing for Gregor and Mina Klaudin. He would have relished in seeing the boy's mother giving each a thrashing as Gregor would follow his wife's hand with a cuff of his own. Boys will be boys was not in the Vistani family's dynamic. Respect and responsibility was their way.

A bit of wet moss caught the older man's step as Eld felt his footing give to send him pitching forward onto the walkway they traveled above the thankfully dried out canal. Hands braced to catch himself Eld found the floor stopping it's approach as a strong arm caught him and propped him up. Duncan looked to him with his eerie glowing eyes, his face grim but also bearing concern for his friend. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, thank you. I just caught a bit of this overgrowth," Eld replied, keeping his voice to a whisper to hide his embarrassment. Duncan kept a steady gaze on him for a few moments longer before nodding and propping him back up on his feet. The vampire looked like a shadow of his usual self. The old robes he usually melted into were gone replaced by dark trousers, vest, and hood making the man look nothing like the monk he usually portrayed. Thin limbs and body belied a creature of supernatural grace and strength. Not to mention constitution as he walked barefoot now down these tunnels, advising he could keep a better grip without footwear as he lead them down into the depths. The three others had been shocked how little Duncan cared for himself but Eld knew in his heart there was hardly anything that could hurt the vampire down here.

Waycrest's concern was for his friends as always.

Naked steel shone shimmered in Duncan's left hand, a gladius that looked more ancient that the city they wandered the depths of. Eld had seen it a few times and had been curious of it's make but Waycrest never offered it for more than a brief inspection when he had it. One got the feeling that the vampire hated it being out and especially hated holding it. The past always complicating the present.

The travel was slow but the memories were swift as Eld kept a hand against the wall to steady himself as he kept a brave face. The people of Markhor had been whispering as they borrowed the cart from Cuthbert to head south for the initial journey. Candell on holiday. Holiday was a foreign word to the people of the village as the idea of going somewhere for no reason was a ludicrous notion, especially for the private smith just outside the village. Eld supposed they liked him enough but an odd one in a hamlet usually lead to a lonely life. The first years were fine as he lived in fear of the consequences of being found or his 'family' being found, but those later years just lead to far to much introspection. One could go mad in such a routine and maybe he had gone slightly.

"We're here," Duncan whispered over his shoulder and stepped into the antechamber that was the crossroad.

The room was wide and held more than just cobblestone as Janus widened the shutters and lifted the lantern higher to alight the room. It was built much like the tunnel they had been traveling from but opened into three other tunnels for what could only be the cardinal directions or the very least right and left tunnels. As much as the chamber was like the tunnel they had traveled the black tendrils of vines and still bodies of flowers above them reminded them of why they were really here.

The archespore were horrid in tales and even worse in person. Bulbous wide roots cork screwed from the walls and ceiling, the skin of the plants a deep mixture of the color of manure and the sick of a rotting dog. The smell matched as well from the fetid clouds that drifted from the heads of the dreadful plants. Crimson crowns opened and closed like the gasping breath of a sick child as bits of tendrils bearing the same amber baubles that Alfred had described of the fateful end of the patrons of the Silver Lady. Heavy was the head that bore the crown and the red maws did little to disguise the puckering bulb within as those same tendrils that hung their bells also licked the sickly air.

'Oh gods they're here Eld where do we go?'

"Uncle?" Alfred asked as he gently touched Eld on the elbow causing the witcher to snap back with more than just reality.

"What?"

The younger Klaudin looked as if he'd been struck by the tone the older man had given in his sudden response. Eyes downcast with a cough the mustachioed man would do his best to face the yellow gaze of Eldridge. "I was just asking, which way should we go?"

Eld stood quiet a moment, feeling the release of the venom of his voice and regretting it instantly. The eyes of his other companions could be felt just the same for his harsh word to Alfred as he grimaced hard deciding as ever to push onward. "Right was the way to the hag. We go that way first."

"Together?"

Eld was already limping his way toward the right tunnel, his hands flexing and releasing as at his sides. The Klaudins looked to Duncan, hoping for some kind of guidance or advice with the way their godfather was behaving. The vampire could only shake his head softly as he followed up to reach the witcher as they delved back into the pit of the catalyst.

"I got a bad feeling about this," Janus murmured softly as he looked up at the flowers in the ceiling undulating in their fixed positions.

Alfred frowned as well but motioned with his knife toward the tunnel. "Take up after them, I'll be right behind you."

"Don't trust them," the bard quipped as he motioned up to the ceiling.

"Do you?"

Janus smiled sardonically before he shrugged and jogged after the older companions. Alfred gave a final looked up above and followed into a darker memory.

@daily-writing-challenge

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 128

In place of August Sixteenth, Promptapalooza 9/ Most people immediately assume Geralt would be annoyed by human ailments. Find them distracting, or burdensome. They assume that if Jaskier gets sick, the Witcher wakes him up at dawn and forces them to travel onward any ways. They spread rumors that Jaskier sews his own wounds when caught in a hunt. The people speak of the heartless witcher yelling at the bard for getting sick. Of course, it's all false. Couldn't be more false, actually. Jaskier woke up with a sniffle. Just a tiny sniffle. No big deal! And yet, Geralt noticed. Of course he noticed. Notices everything with those damn supersenses of his. "Geralt, the contract-" "Fuck the contract." "That archespore hasn't even taken me on a date yet." "Jaskier, lay down!" "I can sit up-" "LAY DOWN!" Jaskier has been stuck in a witcher-enforced bedrest for two days. Even if the sniffles became sneezes, and his throat began to get scratchy and sore. So what if he had a fever? So what if he felt like shit? He shouldn't be slowing Geralt down! But Geralt won't let him do anything but slow him down! "Not gonna tackle me to the bed?" "No, walking is good for you, in spurts." "How nice." "No, keep moving. Ten more minutes of walking." "In the room?" "You can lap the inn if you'd like." "Well, alri-" "No wait- It rained recently- Too cold and damp for you." "Says who?" "Says me. And your fever." "Geralt, it's been two days of nothing but laying!" "I thought you liked being in bed." "Yes! To fuck! To sleep! Not to lay and stare at you!" "I like staring at you." "FineI'llpacethefuckingroom-"

[secretprincesskitty]

post game Ciri passing a field with archespores, the locals say they can't pay her and the land's lord had refused to call a witcher

she goes to the lord to negotiate, of course he truly is one of those assholes who refuse to pay, the peasants will have to deal (they can't, some already died)

so she kills the archespores for free, gathers the seeds, breaks into the lord's garden at night and plants the next gen archespores

months later, the approximate time it takes for the spores to grow, she comes back, agrees to kill the monster for three times the price

that's how she gets rich by fucking with the dickheads 👍

[foggypeacestrawberry]

Dragonfish Reloaded

I continue the story of the WaterFireGod, for part 1 click here

(1) Remember the gate, where the humanoid aliens came through?:

(2) It changed a lot after them humanoids arived -

(3) The second invasion started at dawn. It all happened very fast:

Some very mighty guards came through the gate...

(4) ...and them tiny fragile blossoms, that arrived earlier with the humanoids, grew within seconds into all kinds of - plants?! :

(5) At the same time, a second gate opened…

(6) … spitting out some more "visitors"…

(7) … all kinds of pretty agressive fellas!

(8) The whole garden of our little unnamed sim changed into a nightmare.

Well, he called them, and they came, right?

(9) They forced him to sit down and stay put on an alienesh-crystal-stone-stool-thingy…

(10) …and startet talking…

(11) … to their GOD! The WaterFireGod. Our well known dragonfish.

(12) Then they told our little unnamed sim, that they will return to their home planet through that portal, together with their god...

(13) … right after they solved this kind-a-tricky problem, that they just learned about from the little fish - sry, your highness, of course -

(14) Turns out, unfortunatly they can not just kill the sim, and leave with their god, as they intended…

(15) … because their god can not survive without our little unnamed sim, due to the bond that exists between them. This bond must be broken of course. Or else!

(16) (Moment of akward silence)

(17) They startet negotiating. Meanwhile it was bright daylight.

(18) They discussed during the whole day…

(19) …and also the whole next night.

(20) It turned out, there is more to the good old dragonfish than we ever imagined:

When he spits fire unterwater, while living with a sim that he has a very special bond with, the fire sinks down on the ground, and turnes into gold.

And you know what they say about dragons… they protect treasure.

Next time I will tell you:

What kind of bond the sim + the dragonfish do have,

what the sim is doing with all this gold?!,

and what the "Fisch des Grauens*" has to do with all that

ITS YOUR TURN NOW!

I want you to have the option to influence the story. You can choose 1 of these 3 options, what you want me to put into the story next:

No 1 - Someone will die

OR

No 2 - No one will die

OR

No 3 - Something will happen that has to do with owls.

Just write it into the comments until the End of April, then we will wrap it up and count the voices for 1/2/3!

* Please someone tell me how this fish is called in English, I couldn´t figure that out! (the dark-greenish fella living in the ponds of graveyards, killing all other fishes, and that can be used for prolonging live) - Or maybe I´ll just make up a new name for it :-D , you can recognize it anyway by the pictures I will take then.

The mods I used here for the first time:

Asparagus densiflorus, from alex_stanton1983

Lotus Lamp, from 4Sims

Floor-Lamp Skoll, from sim_man123

From @murfeelee :

TW3 Archespore Miniset

Skyrim Blackreach Giant Mushrooms as Outdoor Lights Miniset

AMR Small Plants Group

Junk Pile as Coin Pile

Deniisu_TS4 to TS3 RoM Rug Medallion as Floor Light

Thank you, @murfeelee! Love your stuff since I played the first time with the telvanni-village, and that was on my old computer (meanwhile, this computer I´m using now is pretty old).

I will also continue the 10-things-challange, weeks ago I already picked the items for the next round - but at the moment, I want to finish that alien-story first!

And yes, I still have to finish the sorting of my mod-collection. That has highest priority, not just because I want to continue playing, but also because of this 10-things-challange I started. For both I need a well-sorted, richly filled mod-folder (lol).

Well. The last weekend I spend downloading nearly everything that Murfeelee ever published :-D ! Just the sorting of this murfeelee-collection alone will take a week, or two, or whatever it takes :-D.

I started yesterday evening with the Letter A. Today I will do the B… like in "babysteps". Like in "Baby Yoda as Teddybear", that is the first mod beginning with a "B" in my murfeel-folder.

Just imagine, this green little fella, how well he would have fit in my alien-story, if I would have known this mod a week before.

You all have a good time :-)

Oh NO now I need to do the tagging. I still have NO clue how that really works here on tumblr, although I always watch you other simmers out there, and try to get it.

[wvrlock]

Autumn Equinox: Subquest prompts

This a list of prompts inspired by the subquests in the Autumn Equinox dash event! (Starts on the 9th!) Feel free to add context as wanted or needed. Muse A refers to the sender's muse, Muse B refers to the receiver's muse.

The SUCCESS and FAILURE prompts assume a roll from Muse A, while the ROLL prompts ask Muse B to make one! You can find the skill checks in the lovely doc for the event.

[PLANTS (SUCCESS)] Muse A attempts to persuade the flowers to behave

[PLANTS (FAILURE)] Muse A attempts to persuade the plants to behave

[PLANTS (ROLL)] Muse B attempts to persuade the plants to behave

[ARGUMENT] Our muses have an argument in Bloomridge Park

[ROMANCE] Our muses have a romantic, intimate moment in Bloomridge Park

[CHOMP] Muse A is bitten / attacked by a plant

[MUNCH] Muse B is bitten / attacked by a plant

[BLOOM] Flowers start to bloom around our muses

[ARCHESPORE] Our muses fight the Archespore

[DANCE (SUCCESS)] Muse A dances with Muse B

[DANCE (FAILURE)] Muse A dances with Muse B

[DANCE (ROLL)] Muse B is asked for a dance by Muse A

[DREAM] Muse B spots someone they love, who is alive

[CHIMERA] Muse B spots someone they love, who is dead

[NIGHTMARE] Muse B spots someone they hate, who is alive

[GHOST] Muse B spots someone they hate, who is dead

[ILLUSION] Muse B realizes the person they saw was an illusion

[UNICORN (SUCCESS)] Muse A attempts to approach the Black Unicorn

[UNICORN (FAILURE)] Muse A attempts to approach the Black Unicorn

[UNICORN (ROLL)] Muse B attempts to approach the Black Unicorn

[HUNTERS (SUCCESS)] Muse A attempts to persuade or deceive the Hunters

[HUNTERS (FAILURE)] Muse B attempts to persuade or deceive the Hunters

[HUNTERS (ROLL)] Our muses attempt to persuade or deceive the Hunters

[POINTY] Our muses fight the Black Unicorn

[HUNT] Our muses capture the Unicorn, or lead the Hunters to it.

[CHILDREN (SUCCESS)] Muse A attempts to locate the missing children

[CHILDREN (FAILURE)] Muse A attempts to locate the missing children

[CHILDREN (ROLL)] Muse B attempts to locate the missing children

[CHANGELINGS] Our muses fight the changelings

[OUT] Our muses are kicked out of somewhere, or get into a fight, while looking for the gems

[STEALTH] Our muses successfully sneak somewhere while looking for the gems

[RED] Our muses find the red gem (Are they taking anything else?)

[ORANGE] Our muses find the orange gem

[YELLOW] Our muses find the yellow gem

[GREEN] Our muses find the green gem (Robbing graves? Really? Again?)

[BLUE] Our muses find the blue gem

[INDIGO] Our muses find the indigo gem

[VIOLET] Our muses find the violet gem (Not the sewers…)

[PROFIT] Muse A suggests selling the completed crown

[WHY] Muse A tries on the completed crown (roll damage, probably)

[DARE] Muse B dares/encourages Muse B to try on the completed crown

[wyndford-dekarios-majima]

title; this isn't homosexuality pairing; fleeced wolf (lambert/anthelme) word count; 1047 content warnings; drinking, drunk characters, implied fistfight

summary; it's a russian taunt

---

Tonight was a night to drink. Anthelme had even decided to actively get drunk, rather than sit around buzzed while the other wolves were piss drunk, bringing down one of his own bottles. Geralt was very happy to have a glass, while the others stuck purely to their homebrew. The conversation shifted topics like ripples in water. At first, Eskel was talking about a fascinating hunt he’d had (and the autopsy he’d done on it), then the topic went to the worst monster to fight (Eskel was being boringly indecisive, while Lambert and Geralt argued about archespores and wraiths), then which women were the best (which was mostly taking the piss out of Geralt for his thing for elves).

“Might as well just, just plough a block of marble! It’d be as warm!” Lambert snickered. “Fuck off. You’re just…jealous.” “Jealous? As fucking if!”

Anthelme tuned out of the conversation, let the words wash over him as he focused on his wine glass, swirling the contents around a bit. He glanced up, blinked when he saw Lambert staring at him.

“What?” He then noticed everyone staring at him. “C’mon, what’s your type?” Eskel goaded. He raised a brow, then his glass, taking a sip. “I thought I made it obvious enough with my personal aesthetic and mannerisms.” “Huh?” “I’m not into women. Rather proudly so, matter of fact.” “...Okay, then what’s your type of man?” Geralt shrugged.

Anthelme chokes a bit on his next sip of wine, not anticipating the question. What was his type? He made a bit of a face and shrugged, prompting a chorus of annoyed groans. “You’re dodging the damn question!” Lambert bitched. “I don’t know! Ugh, let me think…” He stares into his glass. “I like men with dark hair.” “Really? That’s it? Dark hair? That’s the bar?” “Shut the fuck up. I don’t go whorehunting like you do.” “I’ll show you whorehunting-”

With that declaration of war, Lambert clambered over the table, and Anthelme tried to abscond before he could pin him down. Geralt got up and swapped table sides, while Eskel just sat back, genuinely curious as to where this was going.

“Should…we stop them?” Geralt haltingly asked, trying not to throw up after moving so much. “Not like they’ll kill each other…” Eskel stared into his mug, just now realising he’d been taking sips of air for the past minute.

Geralt went to grab Anthelme’s bottle, then realised it wasn’t there. Lambert must have knocked it down in his attack. He made a shockingly soft sound of dismay. “The wine…”

Geralt and Eskel both paused in what they were doing as they realised the sounds of combat had…changed. They looked at each other, then leaned over the table to look at the other side at the same time.

Lambert was on top of Anthelme still, having kept him pinned with his weight the whole fight. Anthelme had his hand buried in Lambert’s hair, clenched but not tugging him off. There was a spattering of blood on Lambert’s knuckles, but not enough to indicate anything serious had happened. Lambert was still shifting to keep Anthelme under him, rather roughly, but Anthelme’s legs were wrapped around his middle. It finally dawned on them what was going on as Lambert’s attentions moved from Anthelme’s mouth to his neck.

“...They’re making out,” Geralt managed to spit out first. “Holy shit,” Eskel concurred.

They both sat back down, in varying states of clouded surprise. Eskel’s brow furrowed as he considered it more. He’d said he liked dark haired men. But, he thought…

“...Not that…surprising, actually,” Eskel concluded. Geralt looked over at him, an unspoken question in his brow. “It’s been weeks since Lambert got any. Anthelme’s kinda…” He gestures vaguely with his hands, in a way that is decisively unhelpful or indicative of what he means. Geralt scoffs quietly in disbelief, and Eskel groans softly, tossing up the unhelpful hand in a ‘whatever’ gesture. “You know what I mean.” “Waifish?” “Yeah.” “...I guess. The facial hair kinda…kinda detracts, though.” “Ignoring the face. Long hair, tends to pad out his hips…” “Wait, what?” “He asked me to help him with his armour a while ago, when he was hung over. Wears extra leathers on his hips. Asked me not to tell.” “So you told me.” “...Not like he’s gonna know.”

Geralt leaned over the table again, furrowed his brow.

“If you two are gonna undress, take it…somewhere else.” They finally seemed to come back to reality, with Lambert struggling off and attempting to get to his feet first. Anthelme sat up, moustache thoroughly mussed, still a bit dazed. “Ah…quoi?” “Fucking hell.” Geralt sat back again. “Get a room.”

Lambert and Anthelme split, and Eskel and Geralt only stayed for a couple more minutes before deciding to turn in themselves. The next morning was a blur of hungover fumbling, which culminated in the boys sitting at the table nursing coffees as Vesemir begrudgingly made and assembled breakfast.

“...So, about last night,” Geralt started, making Anthelme bury his nose deeper into his mug as Lambert sat up, suddenly on the defensive. “What about last night.” “The, uh…fighting.” “There was a fight?” Vesemir came around with some plates, placing them down indistinctly. Geralt nodded, dragging one over to himself before anyone else could get theirs. “Yeah, Lambert launched himself over the table,” Eskel chimed in. Anthelme grabbed his plate, declining to contribute to the conversation as Lambert scoffed. “I just climbed over it, I didn’t launch anywhere!” “What was it about?” Vesemir sat down with his own plate. “Anthelme implied we go whorehunting,” Geralt supplied through a mouthful of chicken. Vesemir raised a brow in Anthelme’s direction, and when he did nothing to defend himself, he shook his head with a sigh. “That’s not the problem, though.” Eskel leaned forward a bit. “What was with the making out?” “It wasn’t-!” “No, you guys were making out.” “Not on purpose!” Geralt snorted. “Not on purpose?” “I- I’m not, gay or anything, it just- we were both drunk, the mood struck-” “The mood struck?” “Yeah!” “You don’t have any better arguments?” “Fuck off.”

Anthelme snickered quietly into his coffee, and Lambert quickly glanced over, his pupils dilating just a bit. Everybody decided commenting would be more trouble than it was worth.

[dthclws]

archespores in the witcher 3 were created to put anybody that chose the death march difficulty into their own neverending personal hell

[acrowamongsparrows]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 4 - Salty/Euphoria

A break in the rain this time of year was a blessing as well quite an omen in Jamurlak, for the three men who stood under the hanging sign of the Bat it was marked as a blessing. High above them the clouds had shifted to reveal a short break in the veil of clouds that swallowed the city showing the shining stars and a bright moon beside brightening the cobbled streets as if it's opposite in the day. The creak of the brace echoed the quiet alleys as they gathered to conspire nearby under an old awning, the dull choir of drunks and peasants following them to the drone of the hurdy gurdy.

"I can't believe you came," Alfred murmured again as he began to fish out his pipe and pack it. There was a mild frown on the witcher's face as he watched his nephew fill and draw with far to much absent skill. Eld wasn't sure if it was the fact of smoking or that the boy was now more of a man than he'd been when last they'd talked three years ago. Time waits for no one.

A bit of straw in a low lamp was burning bright as Alfred dipped into the clay bowl, slowly drifting smoke rising about his face as he got it well on it's way. The embers finally lit red and orange there was a quick wave and soft hiss as the straw was dropped into the wet stone below. Alfred sucked on it a moment or two before offering it to the two older men. Both politely raised hands to refuse, glad for the cover of darkness to hide their looks of discomfort.

Despite the dark, Alfred could feel it as he coughed a bit and took a step back to give some room from the smoke. "Sorry, it's kind of a nervous habit."

"Since when did you take to being nervous?" Duncan peered after the younger man, his eyes bright and shining in the moonlight. Night or day mattered little to the vampire's gaze.

"Since I sent you that message," Klaudin replied as he chewed on his pipe. "I didn't want to, but Janus thought it better we try to involve Uncle here."

"You didn't think I'd come?"

Eld and Alfred both looked to the vampire with the same incredulous look.

"Oh to hell with you both," the vampire snapped with a certain level of salt that would have sent Janus howling if he wasn't so busy inside. A shared smile between the warriors was enough as they let the situation's dire circumstances sink in again.

"What's been happening?" Eld finally spoke up as he adjusted his hip, feeling a soft release of tension in his leg as he folded his arms over his chest.

Alfred took a long pull on his pipe before blowing it away from the group and turning back to them. "I wish I had more to report than what you likely already know."

The two watched him for a moment as he stood smoking looking back at them.

Duncan let out a sigh as he rubbed his jaw. "Pretend we know nothing, boy. What have you been doing?"

"Oh sorry, well we arrived here about three months or so ago. Things were not great but they definitely were not shutting down parts of the city from it," Alfred began into his tale feeling a bit sheepish in assuming they knew more. "There were rumors of things going upside down in the south quarter but nothing more than whispers at the time. We came in just fine through the quarter, they were fairly pleased to hear a bard had landed. I guess they haven't had any new entertainment in some time."

Alfred slowly crouched down into a comfortable squat as he continued with his report. "We hit a new tavern every night for the first week. Janus was in high demand as he'd do a show in one spot and the next morning we'd have invitation to another room. We haven't had this much work in some time or least of all this welcoming."

"As they'd let us in we'd notice the downtrodden nature of the peasants and the clearing out of the streets come dark," Alfred continued. "Don't get me wrong, I'm used to towns shutting down at dusk but this was a mad rush. The streets would empty and doors locked up. Taverns full of more hearty men then the usual mixture of women or even families in the early hour time. They'd sulk and stew, asking for less bawdy songs and more of what you saw in there."

Alfred would thumb back to the Bat as he chewed on his pipe a moment. "So Janus would do his thing and I would work the crowd. Usually setting him up for a bit of a laugh to get people interested."

"I saw," Duncan nodded making a slight motion with his hand as if throwing a bottle.

Klaudin let out a half-hearted laugh as he shrugged. "Drama and comedy make coins drop just as easy."

"As I worked the crowd I'd ask here and there about what was going on, where everyone was and the like. I'd get mentions of darklings or kobolds causing trouble which seemed the basic answer for superstitious folk but this didn't feel right. Till I spied Rufial."

Alfred sucked on his pipe again blowing out a stream of smoke down to the cobblestone. "The man looked like hell when he wandered in. Sweating and sickly as he stumbled about to the barman for a drink. He caught my eyes as he didn't order that swill I was drinking. He just wanted water."

"Water?" Duncan piped in appropriately and curiously.

"Yah, water with starch. A lot of it."

Eld's face darkened more than just by night and shadow. "Then what happened."

"I moved up to stand nearby him, watching him guzzle this water down like he was a fish. Dropping big clumps of the stuff into the water and not even waiting for it to break down at all. Barman was perplexed by it but he was charging him for drinks that should be free in water and gaining twice that. I was as well, until he began to shake."

"It was horrible," Alfred spoke softer now. "The whole bar came to a halt and there was silence watching him shiver. He never spoke a word before suddenly he grabbed onto his shirt and began to pull with all his might. It wasn't exactly good quality as it tore like a sheaf of paper and revealed something terrible."

The young man would stand up and pull his pipe out of his motioning with the stem from his midsection to his throat. "Vines. Black and bleeding growing from his navel up to around his throat. Thorns big as nails digging into his flesh and all these little baubles hanging off like bells jingling as he thrashed about. Watching him thrash it was only a moment to really notice the vines moving tighter about his neck."

"Damn thing was strangling him."

There was a moments pause to let the imagery sink in for the three of them. Janus may be the storyteller and bard of the duo, but both were keen to the power of a tale.

"Go on," Eld whispered as he watched his nephew still.

"Right. So the bar starts to empty and they start calling for a guard. Rufial has already hit the floor, his hands flailing as he tries to pull them off his neck. Men rush forward to try and help with knives drawn to cut him free, but no one can get it loosened enough without getting stabbed by these thorns."

"What were you doing?"

"Staying out of the way," Alfred nodded. "I know where my sword is needed and when six is far to big a crowd to be trying to save one man like this. So I keep my eyes on the situation and for Janus."

"Where was Janus?" Duncan asked, hoping for confirmation or perhaps a way to gather some more to the story.

"My brother was detained at the time," Alfred grumbled as he chewed on his pipe, a knowing nod sent to them as they both returned it. Alfred's brother had a way of finding himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. Especially if it happened to be someone else's bed. "So I was 'alone' when all this was going on."

"As the men are trying to cut him free, one of them lets out a cry and jumps back from Rufial," the young man holds up his arm and taps it with his pipe. "The baubles. They had come loose in the struggle and began to fall like leaves or in hindsight now, seeds."

"And they started planting," Eld spoke softly.

"Aye," Alfred confirmed as he bit his pipe. "Sliding into any open skin they could find and latching like a leech. Pulsing and burning them as those grabbed them started to flail about trying to be free of them. Screaming of burning and bites."

"By this point, Rufial has stopped squirming. His face a plum," Alfred spoke softer now as he remembered the death rattle of the gasping man. "The guards were starting to come in now spotting the body and the others crying in pain from the baubles attached to them. They clear us out and the bar empties."

"And then the real hero shows up!" Janus called as he stumbled out of the Bat with a jig and a laugh. Three sets of grim faces did not find amusement in his antics as he skipped to join the trio. "Oh come now, don't be such- Eld! By the gods above an below uncle! You came! HA ha! Now we got it! Shoulda never doubted ya Wal-"

"Janus," Alfred cut his brother off curtly. "Stop being you for just a few moments more."

'That' brother scowled a moment but did as he was bidden as he motioned with his hand for the pipe. 'This' brother sighed and handed it over as he looked back to Eld and Duncan. "Sorry."

"Continued on," the witcher urged.

"Right, so we were cleared out. Janus did show up then."

The bard made a bow behind his brother before puffing on his pipe again.

"But we waited there. Waited near two hours. No one came out. By then most people had cleared off and we deemed it best to stay in the wagon that night."

"The next day I came back to see about getting paid for the night before," Alfred spoke softly again.

"Which we did not," Janus muttered as he smoked.

Alfred sighed. "Which we did not as the place was boarded up. Door. Windows. All of it just locked down like it had been condemned in the time it took for a short sleep. Now lights or sound."

"So you broke in," Duncan frowned.

Janus chuckled softly with the pipe between his teeth as his brother sighed and nodded. "I know it's not my proudest thing to do, but it was all to strange. I found my way in and made my way into the common room. The sight was little to nothing new from the night before. But the smell."

"Rotted flowers and vinegar. I could barely make my way to the spot of Rufial's death before I saw the dried black stains on the floor," Alfred softly added. "It's where I found the yellow sack I sent you. I wrapped it up in my tobacco pouch and made my way out as quickly as I could."

"A few days later those signs started popping up about closing off the south quarter and the guards started blockading off the area of the city," Alfred slowly came to a close. "I remembered your stories Uncle."

Eld nodded.

"I remembered the stories," Janus corrected as he pulled the pipe from his mouth and poked his brother. "And it was I as well who discovered that those who did not leave before the quarantine were not allowed to leave thereafter."

The witcher's eyes blinked as he spoke up now. "What do you mean? There's still people in there?"

The elder brother sobered up hearing his uncle's question, his own voice grave for once as he spoke. "Only thing coming out of the south quarter these last few weeks has been smoke."

@daily-writing-challenge

[astaldis]

A most unusual plant

(Picture from The Official Witcher Wiki)

“Geralt, do you hear this?”

“A cow. You have heard cows moo before, haven’t you, Jaskier?” Geralt asks.

“I know it’s a cow. But it sounds scared. It might need help!”

“And how is that our problem? Since when do I look like a farmer to you?”

“Geralt, the poor animal might be in mortal danger! We cannot just ride past it and leave it to a most horrible fate. All kinds of monsters are lurking in the nearby swamps, you said so yourself just yesterday!”

“Hm. I might have exaggerated a bit,” Geralt admits. “Just to make sure you stay on the track and don’t run off flower picking or looking for berries. Remember the hirikka you thought was so cute? During the dragon hunt?”

“Before you left me alone on top of that mountain, you mean?” Jaskier asks, although he, of course, knows exactly what Geralt is talking about. “And the hirikka was cute - until Sir Eyck cut its head off, poor thing. Now, what about the cow? Are you going to rescue it, Witcher, or do I have to do it all by myself?”

Summary: Jaskier saves a cow! With a little help from Geralt 😉 (Set during the events of Baptism of Fire, more exactly after the Fish Soup and before the Battle on the Bridge. You don't need to have read the books though to enjoy the story.)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Relationship: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & The Hansa | Geralt's Company Members

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Maria Barring | Milva, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Jaskier | Dandelion

Words: 1759

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46668610

@witchermonstermayhem​

[call-me-myszko]

Today’s Journal Entry:

Killed an Archespore near Toussaint, got covered in its fluids.

Haven’t got paid, slept in the woods (again).

Met old friends on the road, drank an ale together. Or more than one. I don’t remember, may you be cursed Lambert.

Back on the Path with Shard.

[missgracieluu]

Here’s a messy Archespore sketch 🤡  👍🏻 

Now then, let’s give a few digital enhancements~ 

[akreon]

"Folklore claims they sprout from soil watered with the blood of the dying. Thus they flourish in grounds consecrated by pogroms, dark rituals or brutal murders."

[astrolunos]

i spent far too long on this joke

edit: the sequel

[quarkmaster]

Archespore - Gwent Card

"Folklore claims they sprout from soil watered with the blood of the dying. Thus they flourish in grounds consecrated by pogroms, dark rituals or brutal murders." © 2017 CD PROJEKT S.A.

Anna Podedworna

[acrowamongsparrows]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 7(Part 1) - Rage

"Janus to the side!" Eld cried as he planted his foot and turned his hand, teeth gritted as he felt the familiar pain of drawing out the energies into his hand. Thumb out, index in, middle out, ring off a few degrees, and cone with the fifth finger to curve his hand into a bowl of heat. Igni. That familiar burn started in his palm and worked it's way out in a jet of bright crimson flames rushed forth at his call to consume the bright flower hanging from above. Pustules burst like popped corn and one could swear they could hear the plant scream as the flames at away at it's pea soup flesh.

The bard was diving to the side as he covered his head watching the flames span up into the ceiling, gaping as his godfather unleashed the elemental forces of his sign. Fire crept and crawled along the vines that had swallowed the stone of the tunnel eating away at the hungry archespore the same ferocity the hellish cannibal plant had shown to many victims before. Watching the burn was almost beautiful as it sparkled and burned through the vegetation to create a starry sky of embers. The falling ran of flesh eating sap was another thing to worry about, as Janus grabbed his coat and tried to pull it over his head as quickly as he could to avoid ruining one of his best attributes.

But no drops burned his coat as he peeked back up to find Eld now standing over him, the true power of Eldridge coming to bear from his years at study. A broken boy could not learn as other members of his school so the magi had turned to other ways of weaponizing even the hurt. Eld's other hand was outstretched as he turned his flame to face the wall blasting it to curve the flames beyond, his other hand already twisting.

Thumb in. Sign of three. Fifth in. Quen.

Droplets of sap sputtered and burned away as they struck the invisible shield above them. Never even taking a moment even bead off it as the heat of the witcher's flames burned off any of deadly moisture that threatened the pair of them. Yellow eyes could not break concentration as he directed the shield and began to move, but his voice hoped it would break to the younger man at his feet. "Janus, up! We need to go! Now!"

Janus Klaudin did not need any more coercion as he scrambled up to his feet, grabbing hold of the crossbow and lantern in his hands before running down the tunnel they had come originally come from. The witcher continued on, turning his body and hands to deflect the awful sap with his left hand while he slowly closed off his right. A weariness flooded his arm as he ended the first sign but continued to keep his other sign going to protect himself and Janus as they ran from the smoldering rain of death.

"Alfred!" Janus called as he ran already spotting ahead where his brother and the vampire were doing their fine work.

The mustachioed brother quickly side stepped a thrashing tentacle as he swiped his mother's rapier through the air to wound the creature, lopping off the squirming appendage down into the murky depths of the sewer canal. Alfred's body held loose and at the fencer's stance continued to dodge the wild swipes of the newest flower creature, the flow of them never seeming to cease as they crawled from the ceiling and the depths. He'd complained initially as they came down into the sewers about the amount of clothing he'd had to wear and how hot he was but after the first spray of sap that had struck his layered chest he'd make sure to thank his godfather for the warning.

A strong parry worked both in and out of Klaudin's favor as the tentacle vine clipped itself. Whipping about it sprayed it's clear acid like blood about the murky stones before a heavy swipe from behind sent the deadly blossom spinning back into the canal followed by it's limp 'body'. Duncan breathed heavily from his nose as he flipped his gladius about in one hand to turn to face the next monster that would come to them.

Alfred was a dancer with his sword, flitting from space to space as he dodge relying on his speed and accuracy to deal death to those who came close to his blade. Duncan was the complete opposite. He was a soldier. Fighting was not about flare or showmanship, it was about killing. And the vampire knew his business.

Hundreds of years ago, Waycrest had found creatures of all manner from the dark. Wicker beasts of red leafed forests. Bone and flesh monsters formed of comrades in search of means of bolstering their own armies. Even the very earth had risen against his people to slay them in the name of a corrupt god who had taken route in their island. Massacres were an understatement as the war waged on. But Duncan fought, killed, and survived.

Until he didn't.

But today was not to be his day to repeat that fateful day of his curse. Today was a day of solving problems and protecting those he called friends. As the short wide blade hacked through another flower, his bare hand caught a tentacle and ripped hard to bring the archespore close before clipping another bulb. Dull pain blossomed in his palm and on his feet, but it all was superficial to a creature such as him. To the vampire, the flesh need not be strong only everlasting.

Janus reached his brother just as Duncan had finished off the one they faced, keeping his hands well away from the fighter as he knew 'this' brother's business. "Alfred, we're here but there more coming."

"Funny you should mention that," the younger Klaudin motioned ahead of them toward the cross room they were striving to reach. Ahead another pair of the spores were squirming along the ceiling along the track of vines that gripped it. Janus stared up with a look of dismay.

"Tymora for fuck's sake, how many of these things are there?" Janus tried his best not to whine but failed as he looked back to find his godfather limping up behind them at a hurried pace.

"Too many," Eld grumbled, his face ashen as he put a hand to the wall to steady himself. "Duncan?"

The vampire nodded and motioned to Alfred. "Come, Klaudin. Day is not over yet. Janus, help your uncle we're almost there."

The swordsmen went back to weeding as the four inched onward through the pruning.

~

The right tunnel had been a mistake.

There had been nothing but the memories of some forty years prior in the former den of the Hag of the South Quarter.

The quartet had crept their way through the sewer without incident, the vines above and on the walls laying dormant as they passed beneath their gaze. Duncan had reached the room first, his soft glowing eyes peering easily through the dark as he motioned for the three to follow inside with relative safety. With the blooms above, safety was always questionable.

Eld had followed in next, his yellow eyes peering about the room as he looked to the rotten hovel that housed the creature. He could still feel her there. The Hag had been here for years, stewing and simmering with rage at the former who king who had ruled Jamurlak with such a cruel hand. There had a been a moment where the witcher had felt a slight pang of guilt for her when she began to tell him her story.

Born in the wrong place and definitely the wrong time, the Hag had been part of a loving family of forest folk who lived for the most part a quiet life in wilds beyond the burgeoning city. A chance time to bring in trade to the city had lead to a mugging and murder of her father followed by the kidnapping of a mother and sibling. She'd been left on the street to scrounge and survive amongst the downtrodden. It was a funny thing to imagine a new city already struggling with the homeless and downtrodden at such an infancy stage of it's building blocks. Such was civilization.

Despite being but a child she was still a child of the wilds and knew things that could just as easily aid her as hinder her. With a secular king upon the throne the hindrance was all to clear to follow. The cruelty of the powerful was rampant in those days and the Hag learned first hand what it was to be the weaker of those sides. She dared not speak of what happened to her in those times or the years spent as a prisoner for her skill as much as her body. The nightmare only ended when she finally escaped and prayed for a true end to her life in the undercity of Jamurlak.

But her rage would not let her die. Nor would the wild.

Festering and growing like a rotted apple the girl would live. The woman would grow and learn. The elder would plot. The Hag would plant.

How she had lived for so many years in the sewers like this was only a testament to her hatred. She would never give up. She didn't care who died or why they died in her path, only that the city would fall and with it the memory of old king Abrad. It could man or woman or child, as long as Jamurlak suffered she would smile. As long the city moaned and cried out in terror at how her pretty flowers grew in a row, she would cackle.

And so she burned. It all burned.

The Archefire.

Eld's fingers gently traced the blackened stone where she had stood, her silhouette forever burned into the wall from where had set her to blaze. His head bowed softly as he let his hand drop as he heard something softly on the wind.

'Mush-aring dumb-a do duma-da, Whack fall the daddy-o, whack fall the daddy-o.'

The witcher's head shot up hearing the song as he whipped about to look at his milling companions. Alfred on watch with a nervous hand at his sword hilt, Duncan inspecting some rotten book shelves, and Janus.

"What are you singing?" Eld asked quietly.

"What?" Janus replied arching a brow at his godfather. "I'm not singing."

"You're not?"

Janus shook his head looking confused and worried, which did not suit his usual grinning handsome face. "No, why would I sing down here? This."

He waved his hand about the room with a sad sigh, his green eyes coming to rest on the older man again. "This is terrible."

'There's whiskey.'

Eld's eyes widened as he heard it.

'There's whiskey in the jar.'

"We need to go. Now!" Eld yelled as he reached down to tighten his brace with a crank and twist, his limping run already propelling him past the startled bard and toward Alfred at the entrance way.

No one had a chance to ask why before the walls came to life with floundering hell.

~

Eld leaned on the wall again as they finally reached the crossroads of the sewer system, the familiar layout and walls almost clear as Alfred and Duncan continued to met out death to the vegetation. The witcher was getting tired. Age and work at the smithy had kept up his bodily strength, but the vigor required to pull on magic this way was taxing in a much different way. His spirit ached. Eld was out of practice and at this point a worry was setting in that maybe he was not ready for such a task like this. The witcher closed his eyes as he tried to steady his breath.

"Janus," Eld called out as the bard came back up to him.

"Ya?" Janus asked as he leaned down before looking back over the shoulder of the witcher at the still burning tunnel they had come out of. Flames were not the only thing stirring back that way.

The witcher took in a deep breath and stood up straight again. His hand slipping to his belt and drawing out a trio of vials, blue, purple and green. Popping the top of the purple one and letting the cork fall away as he drank deeply of the Tawny. The familiar burn felt like the fire he expelled racing down his gullet and into his belly, eyes closing as he felt the numbness begin to leave him as he shook his head to squaring his shoulders better. "We need to go down the left hall. I need you with me."

"Me? Why me?" Janus asked as he looked back down the hall and to his brother who had finished off his dance with the last archespore in a flurry of cuts. "I'm no good in a fight."

"Exactly."

Janus frowned. "Thanks."

Eld smiled slightly as he clapped his nephew on the shoulder. "I need you with me because you have skills I have taught you already. Skills I hope you've not forgotten."

The bard frowned more before flexing his hand into a fist and uncurling it. "I'm not that great at it."

"Better than Al still?"

That caused the older brother to turn his frown upside down as he shrugged. "He's got swords and I got my fingers."

There was a hard squeeze as he nodded to Janus. "Get the bow and the lantern. I'm gonna see if I can hold this for them while we move on ahead."

Klaudin looked like he was going to say something but shook his head as he ran off to gather as he was instructed. Eld turned back to the hall they had escape, seeing clearly the movements in the shadows as well. Sighing he eyed the other vials and nodded, everything was about to hurt. Tipping back green first he could feel the fire in his belly grow as he felt the weariness leave his bones even more and an energy of a weeks rest fill him. Invigorating was an understatement.

The blue bottle was the real worry though. It would be his last to be able to use in this. Looking over his shoulder, Eld regarding his friends and looked back to the bottle. He trusted them. The philter bit hard as it swam down his throat and caused his teeth to itch. His eyes widened and his hands loosened more as he smiled forgetting how much he secretly enjoyed this swarm of intensity to flood him. He felt cocky despite the sloshing in his stomach and itch through his veins.

Lifting his hands he began to the motions for an old Griffin trick that was taught a long time ago. Thumb in. Sign of Three. Fifth in. Quen. The power flooded out of him in the familiar invisible shield as he raised his left hand and spread his fingers. Fold the middle. Part the sea. Trace the horizon. Vorg.

The portal to the tunnel shimmered softly as the shield extended and filled the space that he traced with his left hand. A grim smile came to his face as he nodded to the magical shield, the boundary strong as he could for them. Turning Eld would stalk back to his companions, his fingers flex and cracking from the expenditure of power.

"How are you doing?" The witcher asked as he looked between Duncan and Alfred. Alfred flicked his sword and shrugged softly, doing his best to keep his heaving chest in check while Duncan stood with dripping blade still.

"It's been quite a dance, uncle." Alfred commented as he looked back toward the tunnel they had come down. "Are we clear?"

Eld shook his head. "I've given you a bit of time to recover, I don't know how long the boundary will hold but it is something for you."

Duncan would nod softly as he marched toward the tunnel. "I'm guessing you're going to the left then."

"We are."

Duncan nodded again. "Very good. Tides be with you, my friend."

Eld would tilt his head. "Tides?"

The vampire would shrug offering a coy smile. "You're not the only one who's living a memory."

A soldier's salute as Duncan motioned to Alfred. "Come, Klaudin. Our work is not yet done."

Alfred would hesitate a moment as he looked after Duncan before looking to Eld and then Janus. As much as the youngest member of their party would try for bravado there had always been a serious and grim mindset to the duelist. Especially when it came to protecting his older brother.

"Go on, Wally. I'm with the witcher, I'm a lot safer than you." Janus could see the worry in his brother's green eyes and despite the laugh he gave with a flippant wave of his hand, the older brother couldn't hide his own trepidation of leaving Alfred behind. All he could do was lift the lantern and start for the left hall. "Shall we?"

@daily-writing-challenge