#eltibald

[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

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

The Witcher savored the silence, save the crackling of the fire and the falling rain outside as he prepared their supper steadily, stirring the cooking pot he had set up over the fire, adding the ingredients of the stew. Working like this here in a cavern was nothing so new to him... but it felt surreal to be doing so on an island holding an eldritch cosmic entity, a cult and a lost city below. There was never a dull moment in the life of a Witcher, at least, however long one tread the Path. Destiny always found ways to pull the rug out from under him. Still, for the moment he felt relatively safe, their preparations made, as well as not having exposed himself to the corrupting power of many eldritch artifacts. When Sabrina squeezed his hand back and spoke up again, he stopped what he was doing and turned his viper eyes to her dark pair, surprised by what he heard. Something almost approaching regret. He couldn't say he was expecting that out of her. He was good at reading people though, with his experience and mutated senses, able to tell far more often than not when someone was lying... and knew her better than most. She didn't seem to be lying... especially in the state she was in, at present, vulnerable from the close brush with the Leviathan. He should have felt anger towards her... might again yet, but in that moment, their shared, complicated past felt thousands of miles away. At last, finding his words, his deep, grim voice returned to her just as honestly.

"Won't lie and pretend I haven't wanted to kill you. Deidre's blood is no less on your hands than it is on mine, with that Black Sun nonsense Eltibald and Stregobor cooked up... the Council you served enforcing it. Will pay them both a visit in Kovir, one day, loose ends I will tie up. It was all an excuse to grasp for the power of a Princess, destroy her life and drive her into insanity in pursuit of her magical mutations. Mages have always coveted mutations like the ones Alzur created, envious, why they destroyed our schools. And yet destiny bound you and me together all the same, no less than it did me to Deidre. A destiny I betrayed. When I heard Henselt put you to the fire and stake after your firestorm, I did not feel the relief and satisfaction I should have, only coldness. Yet all that is the past. Can't be undone, only learned from. I learn my lessons the same way as everyone else. The hard way. We have far bigger fish to fry anyways... of late. Saving the world, doing what a Witcher does best, is leagues more important to me than any hatred I feel for you. We're too old to waste vital time on the past, just now."

Eskel returned his attention gradually to his cooking in the wake of his words, before the crimson haired Sorceress pitched in to help with her magic, and as it had been with warding up the cavern, between them they cooked the meal in little time at all. Once it was prepared, he began to dig in, taking out his bottle of Mahakaman Spirit and White Gull as well, sipping it between bites, the welcome warmth burning in his throat and chest. For now they would eat and she would recuperate, and when they were ready they would wage war on the occupants of the island. Search out the answers they required. Likely he would have to kill most or all of them... the more he thought about it, the less likely it was there was anyone who lived on the island that hadn't been corrupted by the power of the Great Old Ones... the flesh of the Leviathan they had devoured. It would make things simpler if true, if not easier. Still, he was going to make damn sure that was the case, first. It was not a cat, bear or viper medallion hanging from his neck, last time he checked. He would hold on to his sanity and professionalism... all the more important now, considering the nature of what they were up against. When she spoke again, his eyes returned her way, jaw tightening a bit, and nodding his agreement. Speaking again between bites of his meal and sips of the hard drink. Thinking ahead, to their course of action when she was ready to move out.

"And make sure that damn cosmic octopus thing remains sleeping and imprisoned down there. Kill the Leviathan, if possible, or it will just keep trying to wake its master and father. We know it can be injured now, at least, back there with your portal. If we pull this off, would be best to magically reinforce whatever is holding Cthulhu and the Deep Ones in R'yleh. Alert the Arl of Skellige to make this island and the surrounding waters off limits to future visitors. As many precautions as possible. Even if we slay the cult here, and miraculously slay a Star-Spawn... you can bet there are others in the world, biding their time. We'll need to warn people, spread the word on these cults."

@fallesto

Sabrina took his words to heart, her eyes reflecting the flames in the fire as she nodded solemnly. They shared a quiet moment, the crackle of the fire and the patter of rain outside the only sounds in the vast cavern. She felt a warmth from his hand that seemed to chase away some of the chill that had settled into her bones. His grip was firm and comforting, a reminder of their shared history, of battles won and lost. In the quiet, she resolved to be more cautious, to listen to the wisdom that Eskel had gained over his long years fighting the darkness. She knew that she had been reckless, driven by her curiosity and desire to help, but she also knew that she could not change who she was entirely. Her nature was to seek knowledge, to push the boundaries of the known world, but she would do so with more thought for the consequences. Her hand tightened around his, a silent promise to be more mindful of the risks she took.

“I should have hired you in the past, to do more work for me, instead of everything that happened between us, I know deep down you hate me, and you would wish to kill me if not for fate, I understand it, but at the same time, I am who I am, and after all of this, maybe too much knowledge, is a bad thing, given how the northern lands have burned, witches are done in courts, and magic is not what people want anymore.”

She sighed as they sat there, the warmth from the fire began to dry their clothes, and the gentle scent of roasting meat filled the air. She would move her finger to bring forth the supplies, some rations to eat. The meal was simple, but it was hot and filling, a balm to their weary spirits. They ate in silence, their thoughts turning to the tasks that lay ahead. The cultists, the monsters, the very fabric of reality that seemed to be unraveling before their eyes. It was a heavy burden, but one they both knew they had to bear. As she nodded and would agree with him, Sabrina felt the weight of his words, and she knew that he was right. She had been too eager, too willing to dive into the abyss without considering the consequences. Her eyes never left the flickering flames, as if seeking answers in their dance. She had to be stronger, for herself, and for those who might still need her, which now was done to one person, him in a twisted way of fate being cruel. The warmth of his hand in hers was a reminder of the bond they shared, a bond forged in blood and magic.

"We'll face this together.” She said. "We're a good team, you and I. We need to keep it that way, we destroy the book, and all the cultsits."

[dukeofdogs]

Crimson Curse

Chest 1: Eltibald derived his prophecies not only from his observations of celestial bodies, but also from inscriptions found on sepulchers and menhirs of the Wozgor and Dauk peoples – human cultures considered among the Continent's most ancient and mysterious. Ultimately, he came to discover the Crimson Curse after examining sacrificial stone slabs of the Svalblod cult in Skellige. According to the isles' inhabitants, the cruel, deity-like being had already been vanquished once and for all. Alas, they could not have been further from the truth...

Chest 2: Of course, intelligent monsters had known of the Crimson Curse far earlier than humans. Higher vampires, knockers, sylvans... All sensed the red moon's approach—and all awaited it with eager anticipation. For they knew such an opportunity to settle their grudges against humankind may never again present itself.

Chest 3: Historians have long been fascinated by a particular conundrum: how is it that humans rule over the Continent, from the Dragon Mountains to the Great Sea, while monsters – whether werebbubb or godling, fiend or leshen – possess the greater strength? That humans to this day force these powerful beasts deeper into dense woodlands and mountain caves? Some scholars argue that the success of mankind lies in its capacity to build complex social structures, whereas monsters are blindly driven by their appetite for blood. Ever with the sharp intellect and loose tongue, Regis once mused over the question with his close friend, Dettlaff van der Eretein. Regis could not have known, however, how his words that fateful day would forever shift the course of history...

Scroll 1: Since the dawn of time, people have peered with curious eyes into the night sky. Among the stars, they've sought signs from the gods, even prophecies of the future. For some, it has worked—though often at the price of losing their minds.

Scroll 2: One such clairvoyant was a mage by the name of Eltibald, who foretold the impending arrival of the Black Sun. His next work was meant to herald an even graver misfortune... Alas, he passed away before the manuscript could be completed.

Scroll 3: Eltibald's unfinished manuscript bore the title "The Crimson Curse; or, Evil's Awakening." In this tome, he prophesied that once the moon turns a crimson hue, monsters – those previously hidden to humankind – would emerge to feast on flesh and blood.

Scroll 4: Eltibald's apprentices considered his latest treatise to be the ravings of a madman, and thus, in the interest of preserving the renowned mage's legacy, kept them hidden from public view. Only years later, as the Continent drowned in blood, did they understand the gravity of their mistake...

[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.

[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.

[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)

[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…”

[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.    

[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

[wanderingwolfwitcher]

Eskel's viper eyes looked back steadily at the blonde young woman's blue pair, considering her and her question silently as they remained by the warmth of the crackling fire. His cheek scars began to itch again, at the memories of the distant past stirring again, as if they had only happened yesterday... to him the past was always near, however long he had lived or might end up living yet. It was not a matter he had really spoke about since it had happened, many decades ago... not even to the few that had known the whole truth about it. Deidre, the Curse of the Black Sun, Stregobor, Eltibald, Sabrina and the Council of Mages. Complicated... and he had little desire to overwhelm her with every detail of an especially long tale in one evening... there was no sense in telling all of it, but she deserved by now to hear some of it, enough to know the Witcher carried the weight and burden of his past and decisions no less than she did. That she wasn't alone in that fact... alone with whatever it was that had inspired Anri to take up her sword and the quest she was on, no matter how dangerous it was, with the odds against her. She was not a Witcher, but taking up a cause like them all the same, not doing it for coin either but entirely for her purpose. At last his deep, calm voice spoke up again, gradually explaining some of it to the lady knight as his roughened hand continued holding her smooth one, fingers intertwining through hers, jaw tightening grimly.

"Turned my back on a particular destiny, not the Path. Never the Path. Seen enough Witchers give up on being Witchers eventually... I have not. If I believe in anything it is being what I am. That choice and belief of mine has cost myself and many others a great deal. There is a custom where I come from called the Law of Surprise. It is what got me Scorpion... it also got me a daughter, long ago. A Child of Surprise. Though given my failure and inaction, what I eventually did... it would be an insult to call her such, or imply I was a father. If you save one's life you can declare the law, and will receive that which the debtor possesses but doesn't know he has. Destiny decides what that is. The knight didn't know his horse at home had foaled... and a Prince I saved in some woods while out hunting as a young Witcher did not know his royal wife had given birth, yet. It is a long, grim tale... for another time, perhaps... but suffice it to say, I failed her, and carry the price of neutrality and a constant reminder of said failure right here on my face."

@swordluck

"Isn't a matter of courage or choice to me, but of destiny. Turned my back on it before, learned the hard way not to again. I am a Witcher, was born to be one, and a Witcher hunts monsters. There is little shortage of those, of late... but at least this time around I won't have to deal with them on my own. Appreciate all the help I can get. Always been few and far between, on the Path."

Eskel's deep, calm voice returned to Anri, squeezing her gloved hand again reassuringly, keeping their fingers joined together securely. He could only imagine what horrors she had seen and experienced in regards to Aldrich, to be undertaking such a quest with the odds stacked firmly against her. It must have been deeply personal to her... but he wasn't about to pry into it more than needed. She would speak on her own time, about what she needed to. He would be with her if she ever felt comfortable enough to do so. All that mattered most was the progress they were making against their enemies... and compared to where they had started, things could have been going much worse. Even if it seemed like the tidal waves of monsters was unending, he knew they were making headway. And every one of them they killed guaranteed the safety of innocents. At the blonde lady knight's question, a welcome diversion from the grim subjects that usually intruded upon their time together, the Witcher's marred features smiled deeper, looking between her and the black horse not grazing far away from their camp. He had wondered since they had met why a knight like herself had lacked a horse, while he should have one. Perhaps she'd had one but it had fallen, as so many others had in this wasteland. With a slight chuckle under his breath, viper eyes meeting her sapphire pair once more, his low tone spoke up again steadily, confirming the name with a nod.

"Scorpion. Earned him from a knight in repayment for helping him, was lost in some woods and set upon by a bunch of wolves. Fortunately I happened to be in the area at the time. Heh. Reckon that's not far off from you and me here, now that I think about it. Destiny does enjoy its little jokes... least it's not a cruel one, this time."

@swordluck

[sindri42]

What I hated most about the netflix adaptation though would have to be that they gave Renfri's line about the lesser evil and gave it to Geralt like wow what a slap to the face for her character that was

I said “damnit Renfri you’re better than this” out loud four times during that story.

Also I need to point out that the books were very careful to never say one way or their other whether she was actually mutated, even she honestly didn’t know, and there was no evidence she was anything other than a human girl. But the netflix rewrite apparently decided that the curse of the black sun was a real thing in spite of how every “monster” related to the event was produced by torture and the mage responsible for the “prophecy” is literally called “Mad Eltibald”

[oxenfurt-archives]

The Wozgor and the Dauk

“ According to Arnelius Grock's classification, the Wozgor and the Dauk are counted among the ancient human cultures that arrived here directly after the Conjunction of the Spheres. They settled the lands between the Dragon Mountains and the Gulf of Praxeda that forms the current territory of the Kingdom of Kovir and Poviss (specifically the duchies of Narok, Velhad, and Talgar) and the principalities of the Hengfors League (the lands of Caingorn, Malleore, Creyden, and Woefield), as well as those of northern Redania (the Gelibol region and the Nimnar Valley). Fragmentary information about these peoples is mainly based on the remains of their material culture.

The surviving writings found on the Dauk menhirs and tombstones found in Wozgor necropolises formed the basis of several prophecies and divinations (vide: 'The Prophecy of the Black Sun'), whoch remain questionable to this day (vide: 'The Mania of Mad Eltibald'). Some scholars stipulate that the Wazgor and Dauk beliefs remain alive in the form of the religion of Melitele and lesser cults (cf. Coram Agh Tera, Veyopatis). The events which led to the extinction of both peoples remain sharply disputed among scholars. “

Annanias Uldvikel, "Ancient Human Cultures and Their Relicts"

The Witcher Lore (15/∞)

[vicwritesbooks]

  “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.”

The Last Wish (The Witcher 0.5) by Andrzej Sapkowski

[elleinmotion]

...[the girls] 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.

Eltibald wasn't mad at all. He deciphered the writing on Dauk menhirs, on tombstones in the Wozgor necropolises, and examined the legends and traditions of weretots. All of them spoke of the eclipse in no uncertain terms. The Black Sun was to announce the imminent return of Lilit, still honoured in the east under the name of Niya, and the extermination of the human race. Lilit's path was to be prepared by "sixty women wearing gold crowns, who would fill the river valleys with blood". pg. 83, The Last Wish (UK edition)

Episode I: The End’s Beginning

icon: the black sun

[mariko-was-here]

Got the reward points for the Crimson Curse Story, so here we go!

Story 1

Since the dawn of time, people have peered with curious eyes into the night sky. Among the stars, they’ve sought signs from the gods, even prophecies of the future. For some, it has worked - though often at the price of losing their minds.

One such clairvoyant was a mage by the name of Eltibald, who foretold the impending arrival of the Black Sun. His next work was meant to herald an even graver misfortune... Alas, he passed away before the manuscript could be completed.

Elitbald’s unfinished manuscript bore the title “The Crimson Cure; or, Evil’s Awakening.” In this tome, the prophesied that once the moon turn a crimson hue, monsters - those previously hidden to humankind - would emerge to feast on flesh and blood.

Elitbald’s apprentices considered his latest treatise to be the ravings of a madman, and thus, in the interest of preserving the renowned mage’s legacy, kept them hidden from public view. Only years later, as the Continent drowned in blood, did they understand the gravity of their mistake...

Story 2

Eltibald derived his prophecies not only from his observations of celestial bodies, but also from inscriptions found on sepulchers and menhirs of the Wozgor and Dauk peoples - human cultures considered among the Continent’s most ancient and mysterious. Ultimately, he came to discover the Crimson Curse after examining sacrifical stone slabs of the Svalblod cult in Skellige. According to the isles’ inhabitants, the cruel, deity-like being had already been vanquished once and for all. Alas, they could not have been further from the truth...

Story 3

Of course, intelligent monsters had known the Crimson Curse far earlier than humans. Higher vampires, knockers, sylvans... All sensed the red moon’s approach - and all awaited it with eager anticipation. For they knew such an opportunity to settle their grudges against humankind may never again present itself.

Story 4

Historians have long been fascinated by a particular conundrum: how is it that humans rule over the Continent, from the Dragon Mountains to the Great Sea, while monsters - whether werebbubb or godling, fiend or leshen - possess the greater strength? That humans to this day force these powerful beasts deeper into dense woodlands and mountain caves? Some scholars argue that the success of mankind lies in its capacity to build complex social structures, whereas monsters are blindly driven by their appetite for blood. Ever with the sharp intellect and loose tongue, Regis once mused over the question with his close friend, Dettlaff van der Eretein. Regis could not have known, however, how his words that fateful day would forever shift the course of history...