#eltibald

[dukeofdogs]

Eltibald

Chest: “The day will come when the Black Sun will rise and darkness will cover the earth. And she that was, and is not, shall come from the East on a scarlet beast, and sixty women with golden crowns shall go before her, and shall fill the valleys of the rivers with blood. Their cruelty shall be without measure, and their wickedness shall be unrivaled. And the crying and wailing of the dying will be carried around the world until the darkest hour comes, the hour of the destruction of everything that lives, thoughts and feels. And afterthat a new dawn will come, red as the blood of an animal and just as hot, and in deathly silence the one who came out of the abyss will ascend to the throne, and on her forehead a whorish name is written - Lilit.” - Master Eltibald, Black Sun Prophecy

Scroll 1:  Eltibald touched his temples with his fingertips and closed his eyelids. He could feel the rhythmic pulsation of blood under his thin skin that was as dry as parchment. The interrogation lasted unexpectedly long and did not bring any results, and the weeping moans of Princess Bernika gave him a headache. The logs in the hearth had long since turned to ash, which caused a severe chill in the highest chamber of the tower. The servants had been ordered to stay away, but after all, Eltibald was a wizard. With just the wave of his hand the fire would burn again. But Eltibald was also very, very tired. Worse still, he was beginning to have doubts.

Scroll 2:  Princess Bernika, like all the girls selected for the research, was born shortly after the solar eclipse. She was a plump, sluggish, and spoiled brat who could not be made happy with any number of satin coats, cream puffs or piebald ponies. Her princely parents had two more daughters, so they were relieved by the news about the Curse of the Black Sun, which supposedly affected their firstborn, and eagerly handed over Bernika to Eltibald. In particular, recently the girl surpassed herself: the embroidery teacher even complained that the Princess, scolded for her lack of enthusiasm, stuck a needle under the teacher’s fingernail. According to the Council of Wizards, such behavior was inevitable proof of mutation and required final intervention for the sake of the lesser evil. According to Eltibald, it would be enough to beat the girl’s butt with a wet rod and see if it swells evenly.

Scroll 3:  How many months has he already spent knocking on the gates of all the castles, palaces and manors? How many girls has he forced to confess their pathetic offenses amidst screams and tears? And how many of them have proved to be really worthwhile from a scientific point of view? The Council of Wizards ignored Eltibald’s requests to return to his books and to further explore bobolak legends,  from which, he believed, he would be able to learn more about the Curse of the Black Sun than from the subsequent more or less fruitful dissections and vivisections of allegedly affected noblewomen. And though he shuddered to abandon his commitment, he was beginning to understand that he was wasting his time.

Scroll 4:  Eltibald reluctantly opened his eyes and gazed out the window at the snow-dusted Talgarian landscape. The view from the tower was not disturbed by a single plume of smoke from the human settlement. Not single gallows. Not a single rotten signpost. The wizard shifted his weary gaze to Bernika’s twisted face. He did not see in her fear or hatred, only the mindless resistance of an animal being led to slaughter. If he had noticed at least a spark of cunning in the cow’s eyes of the princess - he would have hesitated. Eltibald rose from his seat and left the chamber, locking the door behind him. In a slow pace, he walked down the steps on his way out of the prison, clutching the iron key in his clenched fist. When he got outside, he opened his hand. His hand was empty.

[catastrophe-coins]

The Children of the Dark Sun

[PT: The Children of the Dark Sun]

The Children of the Dark Sun is a subcategory of Wittheism, specifically dedicated to the demon goddess Lilit (also called Niya).

Members of this religion believe in Lilit and worship/work with her. They also believe in the existence of the Daughters of the Black Sun.

They may view Lilit as a maternal and protective figure, but it is not required. They may or may not believe in Eltibald's prophecy, or they may not.

Those who are in this religion do not have a moderator or leader, it is completely based on personal interpretation and experience.

Ficto Religions - https://www.tumblr.com/redacted-coiner/740639140473978880/ficto-religions

Wittheism - https://www.tumblr.com/catastrophe-coins/745278449489428480/wittheism?source=share

We do not support fults or cults.

Tagging - @ficto-religious-archive

[vesemirsexual]

"You can have your reservations about Eltibald's theories, about how the predictions were interpreted. But you can't challenge the fact that there have been horrendous mutations among girls born just after the eclipse."

"And why not? I've heard quite the opposite."

"I was present when they did an autopsy on one of them," said [Stregobor]. "Geralt, what we found inside the skull and marrow could not be described. Some sort of red sponge. The internal organs were all mixed up, some were missing completely. Everything was covered in moving cilia, bluish-pink shreds. The heart was six-chambered, with two chambers practically atrophied. What do you say to that?"

The Last Wish, page 96.

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

"Mmm. Won't turn away some assistance and a few comforts, company, but been looking out for myself for over a century, red. And as a monster hunter in a world usually out to kill my kind just for existing. Haven't lived in the luxury and security you Sorceresses have enjoyed most of your lives. Luxury tends to breed weakness over time, in my experience. A good sword must remain sharp, not hung up on the wall to collect dust, rust and grow dull."

The Witcher's deep, amused voice returned to the crimson haired Sorceress as he ate and drank idly of the breakfast she had summoned. There was no denying how good it tasted, that was for certain. Though her concern, controlling and self interested as it was, was nevertheless a welcome change of pace out of her. By her standards. To say nothing of the way she looked at him and doted on him. Not quite in the way Shani had, which had been more genuine and selfless in motivation, but even so. It could have been far worse. He listened silently, still eating away as she spoke, considering her beauty and the matters at hand she raised. Her troubles. Of course she was already planning the inevitable bloodshed and death against her enemies, for the evening... but at least this time she knew better than to try to involve him in her dirty work. At least for now. Perhaps she was learning. He would take an evening of monster hunting over hunting Witch Hunters any day. Unless they attacked him, he had no reason to fight them... his approach to to handling everyone he encountered. Though Eskel couldn't resist a slight, bitter chuckle that the shoe was now on the other foot for the mages like herself... once so all powerful in the Northern Realms, leading pogroms against the Witchers once they outlived their usefulness, among many other crimes... now on the receiving end of the campaign of dehumanization and violent persecutions. Fate was not without its jokes, this one particularly amusing to him... especially after Deidre. The Black Sun. At last, drinking deeply of his wine, his low, cool tone returned to her, marred visage twisting into a grim, ironic smirk. Shining, viper eyes looking back Sabrina's way as he spoke some more truth languidly.

"And here I thought nothing was forbidden knowledge to mages, from what I've seen. Imprisoning and dissecting young women alive for the crime of being born under the Black Sun wasn't beneath you, Eltibald or Stregobor. Sounds like they're behaving like those they hunt, then. I got no personal quarrel with the Witch Hunters. Wasn't them who printed and spread the Monstrum, or destroyed most of the Witcher schools out of envy... my own included. They're after Witches, not Witchers. Traded with them for Dimeritium as well, now and again. Got some good quality shackles from them. Might be zealous, but your kind gave them plenty of good reasons to be, with all the scheming, demon summoning, monster making, Necromancy, murder and power grabs, among other things. Brought them down on yourselves, now everyone suffers for the actions of mages, as ever. There's a reason Nilfgaard keeps mages on such short leashes by comparison... you Aretuza and Ban Ard types saw to that. You must have known folk wouldn't put up with it forever. Sounds like poetic justice, to me... destiny ain't without a sense of humor, learned that lesson well."

@fallesto

She nodded, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "As much as I'd love to lounge around with you all day, Eskel, I do have matters to attend to. The world doesn't stop because we decide to take a breather." She plucked a grape from the platter, popped it into her mouth, and chewed slowly, the sweetness of the fruit mingling with the tartness of the wine. Her gaze never left his, and there was something in her expression that was a little bit different than what he was used to seeing from her, softer, gentle, around him now as she would hum a little bit, she had things to do of course, erase all trace of herself here, remove her magic, and ensure no one ever knew she had ever been here in the first place.

She chuckled, setting the wine aside. "I will not take long to have things done here, and then I can come with you. You need the company, that much is clear. You have barely been looking after yourself, disgraceful." She reached for a piece of bread, tore it in half, and offered it to him, which he took with a smile.

Then, well she moved and leaned back against the pillows, her eyes flickering to the tray of food before returning to his. "Witch hunters are running around this area, a great many as well, might deal with them, depending, on how many wanted posters to have my face on it." She took a bite of the bread, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. "They have been killing for weeks now, and before you ask, I know your stance of humans, bandits, rogues, and villains, so don’t worry, not asking you to kill them, I’ll deal with them myself."

She shrugged, a playful smirk curling her lips. "Besides, this lot here has been causing me headaches. They're not just seeking power; they're seeking knowledge. Forbidden knowledge, from what I've heard." She picked up a piece of cheese, nibbling at it delicately. "They've been raiding ancient ruins, seeking artifacts and tomes, power and knowledge, and they destroy them once they have them within their stupid little hands."

It’s better to leave the witch hunters stationed here, dead and buried, to ensure they cannot and will not pester her going forward, but one thing at a time as she would relax on the pillows and pick at the food, breathing out softy, a good night, a better morning, and she was as relaxed and unwound as a kitten, as she continued to pick at the food and eat away at it.

[thirstyforred]

✦ thirsty's fav gwent cards (699/∞) Eltibald

" I won't limit myself to half-measures. "

[astaerion]

Have you ever heard of the curse of the Black Sun? First full eclipse in 1200 years. It marked the imminent return of Lilit, demon goddess of the night sent to exterminate the human race. According to the wise mage Eltibald, Lilit’s path was to be prepared by 60 women wearing gold crowns who’d fill the river valleys with blood.

THE WITCHER 1.01 • “The End’s Beginning”

[rhenawed]

Syanna @ Stregobor & Eltibald: Look, I just wanna talk 🔪🔪🔪🔪

[starwrittenfates]

Syanna couldn't help but laugh at his sentence about dragging Stregobor from his tower and hunting down Eltibald. The best part was-- she felt she could do so freely without being judged, now knowing where they were both coming from on the subject of the Black Sun, being in full agreement with their views and goals on it. This was probably the first time in a long time where Syanna could be herself. It was refreshing, and it was all because of Eskel.

"I think the stupid Knights need to take lessons from you on how to woe a woman, among many other things."

After managing to make herself breakfast, she sat down, eating it and welcoming the early morning light. For the first time in a long time, a sense of hope began to grow in Syanna. Soon, no girl born under a Black Sun would have to fear it or be persecuted for it. It would be nothing more than a rare moment in time. Maybe even a special occasion instead of a curse.

"Luckily, you have me. And it helps that I managed to grab a little something from my sister before I left in order to help us on our trip. A just in case---" she pulled out a paper with the Toussaint royal seal on it, smirking before putting it back away. "And besides, if any trouble happens, I have no doubt we can take care of ourselves."

"Mmm. Lucky us. Always welcome to have something good to look forward to on a journey. Aside from the no less welcome prospect of dragging Stregobor from his tower and hunting down Eltibald, of course. Sounds like a plan then, pretty lady."

Eskel's deep, calm voice returned to the dark haired noblewoman with a nod and faint smirk on his marred visage, enhanced senses picking up her quickened pulse at his flirtation. Silently pleased to have such an effect. Well, at least the interest seemed to be genuine and mutual. Time would tell where it would lead, but he had a fairly confident feeling which direction, by now. He was no more innocent than she was. The wink didn't hurt the odds either. For now, he willed himself to focus on the present, taking things one matter at a time. He went to fetch some leftovers from the other night's stew while she prepared herself a breakfast, taking the time to heat up his stew before he dug in, along with eating some bread and having some Mahakaman Ale. Perfect early morning breakfast for a Witcher. From her past experiences Sylvia Anna was used to roughing it at least... he seriously doubted her lavish younger sister could undertake a similar journey without luxuries. Between bites and sips, the Witcher looked outward to the mouth of the cavern, focusing his senses outside to the early morning light. Sensing the weather and movements of the wind and animals amid the trees, before nodding with satisfaction, viper eyes returning to her lovely sapphire pair and low tone speaking up again between bites.

"Weather seems like it will be on our side, at least. For the moment. Should make good progress today. Hopefully be around human civilization by nightfall. Of course that will present other challenges... but never been adverse to those. Survived this long facing them daily. Though I'll grant this is unfamiliar territory, unfamiliar folk. Get the feeling my Axii Sign is going to see a fair amount of usage, in Nilfgaardian territory."

@starwrittenfates

[captainheroism]

According to the wise mage Eltibald, Lilit's path was to be prepared by 60 women wearing gold crowns who'd fill the river valleys with blood.

[dukeofdogs]

Master post for Gwent lore pt 1

Base set:

Monsters

Arachas Queen

Eredin Bréacc Glas

Unseen Elder

Woodland Spirit

Scoiatel

Brouver Hoog

Eithné

Filavandrel aén Fidháil

Francesca Findabair

Northern Realms:

Princess Adda 

Demavend

King Foltest

King Henselt

Nilfgaard

Emhyr var Emreis 

Jan Calveit

Morvran Voorhis 

Usurper

Skellige

Bran Tuirseach

Crach an Craite 

Eist Tuirseach 

Harald the Cripple

Year of the Wild Boar:

Thronebreaker

Ardal aep Dahy

Arnjolf

Eldain

Gernichora

Meve

Crimson Curse

Anna Henrietta

Queen Calanthe

Dana Méadbh

Dettlaff van der Eretein

Svalblod

Novigrad

King of Beggars

Cleaver

Sigismund Djikstra

Gudrun Bjornsdottir   

Cyrus Engelkind Hemmelfart   

Whoreson Junior

Iron Judgment

Merchants of Ofir

Year of the Dire Rat

Master Mirror

Grand Master of the Flaming Rose (Jacques de Aldersberg)

Sparrowhawk (Eredin)

Wrath of Brokilon (Eithné)

The Cripple (Harald the Cripple)

Emperor of Nilfgaard (Usurper)

King of Kerack (Viraxas)

Way of the Witcher

Viy

Erland of Larvik

Arnaghad 

Gezras of Leyda

Ivar Evil-Eye

Fallen Rayla

Year of the Great Oak

Stalwart Leadership

Advanced Tactics

Price of Power

She Who Knows

Duchess of Dol Blathanna

Melusine

Leticia Charbonneau

The Witchfinder

Vilgeforz

Year of The Cursed Toad

Vial of Forbidden Knowledge

Mysterious Puzzle Box

Renfri

Eltibald

Boholt

Sove & Ulula

Dagon

Svalblod Bear

Part 2

[sunbentsky-archived]

for jess’ witcher verse, we’re flipping the script: she’s one of the girls born under the black sun and said to be cursed with madness and extraordinary cruelty. the peggies are a human black sun doomsday cult, looking to sacrifice girls like her to pave the way for lilit’s second coming and the end of all days. they kidnap her and her family, who end up killed, jess managing to escape. from that point on, she’s consumed by the need for revenge against the cultists and it becomes her only goal in life. naturally, this fits the prophecy just fine, only seving to highlight the girl’s unquenchable bloodthirst and monstruous nature, and therefore proving that she is indeed cursed. nature vs nurture at its finest. 

The Curse of the Black Sun was prophesied by the mage Eltibald, who predicted the return of Lilith, a mythical being who is to bring ruin upon the world. Lilith's second coming will be preceded by the appearance of "sixty maidens wearing gold crowns, who will fill the river valleys with blood," thus preparing the way.

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Eskel's viper eyes moved back to her rapidly at the unexpected confession, remaining silent where he sat with her, hand in hand. Memories stirring he could not repress, of all those years ago. Of the events beginning in Caingorn with the Black Sun rising as he had been making camp in the woods... and soon after his saving of Deidre's father the Prince Florian with his trusty dwarven axe, alongside his Skelligan warg wolf Beowulf from a gang of Werebbubbs and declaring the Law of Surprise afterwards, returning to Caingorn with him and glimpsing his unexpected newly born prize... vowing to return in seven years... and his worst mistake, not doing so. Knowing he would be laughed out of his school if he brought a girl there to be raised or trained. Convincing himself she was better off and safer raised as a Princess. Worsening in Kaer Morhen Valley decades later with his second worst decision... turning Deidre away from Kaer Morhen when she had been pursued by her usurper brother's royal forces and the Council of Mages with Sabrina as its representative, who had maddened her in the first place, coming to him for help, to stop fleeing his destiny... instead of taking her into their school or taking the crown of Caingorn with her. And her stabbing him in the gut and mutilating his face in response, making him pay the price of neutrality, along with Sabrina healing him and saving his life after. Taking what she wanted of him... but not getting from him what she wanted most... Deidre. He had made his decision by then about destiny, that it couldn't be ignored.

Two years later it had all ended in Ban Gleán with her blood on his silver sword and hands... many corpses from her army of rebels and bandits lying in the rain soaked streets around the city, all of the leadership and their best fighters. Enough for the remaining rebels to scatter into gangs of outlaws, to be hunted down by King Radowit's forces and picked off. A civil war she had been planning averted... the madness ceasing. He remembered the whispers and stories spreading and growing, folk thinking her a Werewolf bandit rebel leader he had slain, a crowned royal planning to take Kaedwen for herself and other monsters. He remembered taking custody of her hounds as her last request... and ignoring the reward coin all but thrown to him, taking her body out to the woods to be burned on a pyre, so Sabrina, Stregobor, Eltibald and the rest of the Council of Mages couldn't take her and do the autopsy they desperately wanted. The way her black wolves D'yaebl and Beann'shie had howled as their mistress had burned. He remembered taking her own medallion she had started wearing because of him, a brooch made of silver, but not enchanted and flat with a wolf's profile. A brooch he carried to this day. He remembered their connection from afar, how she could sense where he was and what he felt at any time she thought of him... a bond of destiny, the Black Sun, or both. He wasn't sure the source of Rhaena's knowledge and powers... perhaps she had been born under one of the previous generation recurring Black Suns, for all he knew. At last, returning from his reverie, his deep voice remaining calm yet grim, jaw tightening, he murmured to her again.

"I see. Never spoke of it since it happened... but you've already seen it. The Black Sun. Just another part of my life, one of my many mistakes when I was young. The biggest one, perhaps... one I made worse... but one out of my reach to repair. All I could was silence her madness, in the end. End the flowing blood stream of her many victims, and the many more her rebellion in Kaedwen would have created. Victims of my poor decision, as much as of her. And not allow the Council of Mages to get their blood stained hands on her. What was a bit more of the stuff on the hands of a Witcher?"

@rhaenaofmyr

@wanderingwolfwitcher [as discussed]

She clutches the cloak tighter about her frame, drawing the hood up over her head to at least try to keep the snow out of her eyes.

Rhaena had thought she would grow used to the chills that winters on The Continent brought. It had been near four years since she had fled from Westeros, where she had been condemned to a life of poverty in King’s Landing. She’d had no clue where she would end up when she stole away into the belly of a merchant ship, and it would seem that had the crew- she would later learn that their original destination had been Essos, but wild storms had sent them adrift and now here she was.

She’d traversed her way through this strange new world, eventually settling in a small village close to the mountains of Kaedwen. Of course, without a coin to her name, she had had to find work quickly, but the village’s pleasure house had employed her the moment they had laid eyes upon her. It was not something she particularly enjoyed, but it earned her enough to purchase a small homestead on the outskirts of the village.

The storm had set in as she was returning home and quickly, she had lost her bearings in the blizzard. She’d ended up in the forest that circled the village, entirely blind to the true way home. She paused for a moment, dark eyes casting this way and that to look for something familiar. But so thick was the snow that she could scarcely see her hand in front of her face. And she did not see the creature until it had knocked her to the ground, sharp claws pressing into her chest as it pins her down. All she can see now is teeth, growing ever closer as it leans down to take the death bite-

Suddenly, she hears the swing of the sword through the icy air, the thud of the creatures head as it lands close to hers, and feels the warm spray of blood across her face. Eyes remain shut for several moments before she slowly opens them, gaze falling upon the man in the dark red cloak, who stands above her.

Eyes wide with fear, she scrambles to her feet. Beneath the hood, she can make out yellow eyes and a large scar that marrs his face. She’s seen him around the village from time to time- she cannot recall his name, but she knows he is one of the elusive Witchers who spend their winters nearby.

“Th-thank you, Ser…” she says with as much bravery as she can muster, words heavily accented. “Forgive me but…I have no coin for you…”

[old-deerstalker-hat]

“Geralt,” said Stregobor, “when we were listening to Eltibald, many of us had doubts. But we decided to accept the lesser evil. Now I ask you to make a similar choice.”

“Evil is evil, Stregobor,” said the witcher seriously as he got up. “Lesser, greater, middling, it’s all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I’m not a pious hermit. I haven’t done only good in my life. But if I’m to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all. Time for me to go. We’ll see each other tomorrow.”

(Andrzej Sapkowski, ‘The Last Wish’ - ‘The Lesser Evil’, Ch 2)

[treppenwitzzarc]

the    curse    of    the    black    sun    is    considered    a    myth.    few    are    those    who    truly    believe    it    --    at    least,    until    the    mage    eltibald    prophesies    the    end    of    human    civilization    in    the    hands    of    sixty    girls    born    during    the    black    sun.    he    thought    that    the    girls    would    turn    into    cruels    creatures    &    bring    about    the    return    of    the    goddess    lilit,    therefore    setting    forth    the    end    of    the    world.    

his    interpretation    lacks    precision    &    rigor.    what    he    prophesies    as    the    return    of    lilit-niya    is    in    fact    the    unprecedented    birth    of    a    dragon.    the    confusion    is    due    to    the    mythological    figure    of    lilit    as    the    bloodthirtsy    beast,    hungry    for    sheep,    that    appears    in    werebbubb    mythology.    he    reads    about    women    being    given    shelter    from    the    abuses    of    men    and    immediately    links    it    to    the    cult,    without    considering    one    instant    that    it    might    only    be    forecasts    of    what    is    about    to    come.    

still,    you    only    need    a    few    decades    and    some    badly-done    rewriting    of    the    story    for    the    fear    to    be    instilled    in    people's    hearts.    everywhere,    we    whisper    that    sixty    girls    bearing    gold    crowns    will    fill    the    river    valleys    with    blood    if    no    one    tries    to    stop    them.    

what    the    curse    really    entails,    no    one    would    be    able    to    tell.    ishtar    has    some    ideas,    and    the    elven    sage    who    taught    her    everything,    malborne,    had    some    as    well,    but    really,    no    one    has    ever    taken    the    time    to    study    it.    

divination    mages    would    tell    you    that    a    solar    eclipse    tends    to    be    interpreted    as    a    warning    from    fate    that    things    might    get    more    complicated    than    intended    :    things    will    get    in    the    way    of    what    we    want    and    the    path    we    must    take    to    get    it.    this    is,    indeed,    what    happens    to    istar    :    she    becomes    an    obstacle    on    destiny's    path.    

the    girl    born    under    the    black    sun    does    not    belong    to    the    realm    of    possibilities.    she    has    almost    no    destiny    &    that    is    why    she    is    perceived    as    the    end.    she    escapes    the    schemes    and    machinations    of    men,    and    even    gods    would    have    trouble    predicting    what    she    might    or    might    no    do    in    the    future.    while    most    have    their    fate    set    in    stone,    each    choice    a    causal    reaction    to    past    actions,    ishtar    has    the    freedom    of    forever    reinventing    herself.    

this    freedom,    she    gains    it    from    being    part    of    fate    itself.    she    has    inner    insight    on    what    is    bound    to    happen,    frequent    glimpses    on    the    grand    scheme    of    things,    while    most    seers    can    only    hope    for    a    single    look,    once    every    blue    moon.    one    would    call    her    a    spy,    as    she    escapes    destiny's    scrutiny.    what    fate    sees    is    only    what    is    bound    to    happen    ;    one    choice    leading    to    another.    but    ishtar    __    being    given    the    right    to    see    beforehand    the    consequences    of    actions    she    has    yet    to    accomplish    __    has    the    luxury    of    not    making    a    choice    that    she    was    bound    to    make,    if    she    had    not    had    this    additional    insight    on    a    situation.

what    led    eltlibald    to    believe    that    the    girl    would    be    a    goddess-like    figure    is    that    each    prophecy    talks    of    power.    that    is    indeed    what    happens    to    ishtar    :    at    destiny's    source,    not    only    can    she    gain    prophecies,    but    power    as    well.    that    is    why    her    brand    of    magic    is    so    unique.    it    is    magic    itself,    wielded    by    hands    that    should    not    have    the    capacity    to    handle    it    :    those    with    too    much    hubris    that    have    tried    it    have    been    punished    by    fate,    their    minds    doomed    to    madness.    

magic    emerges    from    fate    itself    :    what    is    called    destiny    is    magic,    and    vice    versa.    two    people    are    linked    by    fate    because    a    magic    binding    has    occurred    between    them.    a    djinn    wish    is    an    excellent    example    of    that.    destiny    is    the    world    in    which    they    live    and    so    most    people,    sorcerers    and    sages    alike,    abide    by    its    rules.

that    is    why    most    elf    sages    are    also    experts    in    divination    :    in    order    to    fully    control    magic,    you    have    to    understand    its    source,    and    its    source    is    the    future,    in    which    all    possibilities    exist.    so    when    a    mage    invokes    fire,    they    do    not    create    it    out    of    thin    air,    they    actually    give    existence    to    something    that    may    happen.    

this    allows    mages    to    be    put    into    three    categories    :    

the    first    one    is    for    those    who    are    cursed,    destiny-chosen,    elf    sages    or    with    elder    blood.    they    do    not    follow    fate's    rules    :    they    can    invent    possibilities    out    of    thin    air    and    can    give    life    to    impossible    deeds.    this    is    what    allows    ciri    to    escape    the    confines    of    time    &    space    __    fate    does    not    work    on    her    as    it    does    on    others.    her    brand    of    magic    allows    her    to    change    the    rules    for    herself.    

the    second    one    is    for    the    elf    mages,    who    have    a    more    acute    understanding    of    fate,    that    they    see    as    a    welcoming    &    protective    deity,    making    it    easier    for    them    to    barter.    instead    of    paying    a    price,    they    exchange    :    by    protecting    fate's    realm    (the    forests,    the    creatures,    the    magic    sites),    fate    lends    them    enough    power    to    do    as    they    wish.    this    results    in    stronger    rituals    than    what    human    sorcerers    are    capable    of.    this    is    also    a    category    in    which    most    druids    can    fall,    even    if    human    druids    still    tend    to    imagine    magic    as    chaotic    &    malevolent,    tempering    its    effect    with    the    use    of    plants    and    potions.

finally,    human    sorcerers.    their    understanding    of    fate    is    very    dependent    on    their    age    :    most    learn    magic    in    an    academy    that    calls    it    chaos    &    therefore,    turns    it    into    a    foreign,    dangerous    force.    this    makes    it    harder    for    them    to    barter,    and    so    has    been    created    the    idea    of    balance    :    you    cannot    create    without    sacrifice.    each    spell    has    a    price    that    you    have    to    pay.    this    is    why,    for    a    thunderbolt    to    fall,    a    flower    has    to    wilt.    very    old    human    sorcerers    sometimes    gain    sufficient    knowledge    to    escape    the    confines    of    their    education,    but    it    is    rare        __    the    idea    too    ingrained,    and    that    is    why    human    mages    tend    to    be    less    powerful    than    elf    sages.    

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

“Something like that. It's a long story. All of mine are."

Eskel's low, languid voice returned tersely, studying her blue eyes closely and remembering a pair not dissimilar, on a royal blonde young woman long ago. When she had lived... the rage and betrayal that had shone in them at Kaer Morhen when he turned her away, before her blade had lashed out... and her final moments two years later at his blade... looking at him with shock and betrayal writ large on her visage as she bled out in the rain. All of it had been his fault... no less than hers, Sabrina's, Stregobor's, Eltibald's, the Council of Mages and her parents. But... only one person remained who felt no guilt or complicity in it all, hiding away in his tower... a world of his own. Returning from his reverie at her chuckle and words, his viper eyes looked between Syanna and over to their surroundings in the great hall of the Beauclair Palace. He saw some of the onlookers, pretending to mind their business, guards, nobles and servants alike. The Witcher could not do business like this, out in the open... especially not with what their particular business was liable to entail. Necessity took hold, and returning his attention her way, he nodded, scarred features smiling faintly. Leaning in a bit closer and speaking more quietly, making sure she alone could hear him.

“So it would seem. Ought to be interesting. Reckon I'll have to make preparations for a departure north, then. Better iron out the details first, though... how we'll be getting there... by land, sea or both... and how you'll be getting out of this palace. Out of your sister's reach. If there is somewhere more private than this hall to discuss matters, I'd sooner not do so with this many eyes and ears around."

@starwrittenfates​

@wanderingwolfwitcher continued from X

An amused, but also shocked smile graced her lips, listening to him speak of what he wished to do to the mastermind behind all the "Curse of the Black Sun" nonsense. And with it, Syanna started to feel herself relaxing ever more slightly with this witcher. Maybe...just maybe she could trust him as she had come to trust Geralt?

"You speak of it as if you almost have some connection with the curse," she lightly teased. "But I guess as a Witcher that would only make sense. You have probably come across one of these girls in your line of work..." she tried to remain calm, but her heart slightly raced in fear from the thought of one of the girls being taken down like a monster by the witcher, picturing herself among them.

No... it's okay, you're safe now. You can trust him. He is a friend of Geralt. You have no reason to fear.

Syanna gave a slight chuckle, trying to ease herself. "I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who wants to have a 'talk' with Stregobor," she smiled. "I think I'll enjoy your company after all, Eskel. We already have something in common."

[phoenixkaptain]

If You Haven't Read the Witcher Books, You Should

"Have you heard of the Curse of the Black Sun?"

"But of course. Except that it was called the Mania of Mad Eltibald after the wizard who started the lark and caused dozens of girls from good, even noble, families to be murdered or imprisoned in towers. They were supposed to have been possessed by demons, cursed, contaminated by the Black Sun, because that's what, in your pompous jargon, you called the most ordinary eclipse in the world."

-The Witcher, The Last Wish, Stregobor and Geralt