Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works; all other characters and worlds belong to their respective owners. I'm just playing with them.
Betad by Marethyu, Priapus, Beans
The Celestial Farmer
Chapter 06: Departure
– Jorgen –
100cp granted, 100cp total.
Looking up from the dwemer automaton I've been working on, I take stock of my progress in these tunnels. Our looting of Alftand is finished, and my golems have begun collapsing and reinforcing the various entrances so that the only way in is through the tunnel system that I've made.
Obviously, security in the tunnels is important, as I don't want to give the Falmer a way into my farm or Frostflow Lighthouse. Fortunately, creating something akin to a vault door to allow me to properly seal the various tunnels is easy enough, and a clockwork alarm system is equally easy to craft and maintain. The Dwemer were true masters because their technology has barely suffered any loss of effectiveness even after so many years of abandonment. I've learnt a lot from studying their work.
Their use of soul gems as power sources was a bit of a setback, but between me and Ranni, that was easily fixed. The spirit ingredients we are growing here are bursting with energy, and fashioning a replacement energy source was relatively easy, even if our current prototype is inefficient and needs work. Ranni has been a gift from the Gods, in truth, because while Ciri has some magical studies, I do not. Ranni makes us both look like bumbling fools, even if I'm better with the more physical side of magic while she thrives on the theoretical.
She's currently devouring everything she can get her hands on from this world's magic. Her interest in studying at the college is clear, but she's learning as much as she can beforehand. Plus, her body is unique even by magical standards, so she's bound to draw a lot of attention to herself and, by extension, the farm.
Not that I mind. I don't expect her to hide away to make things a little bit more convenient for me. Besides, I don't have the patience for book learning, and Ranni has made it clear she intends to stay on the farm for the most part, so her learning more can only help us in the future.
I've sent a letter to the Jarl of Dawnstar letting him know that I'll be arriving as he requested fairly soon, I have business in Dawnstar anyway. Skald is gonna be a problem, I already know it, but I'm not gonna let him get in the way of my work. I've also told him about the situation at Frostflow and that Sudi has given me the deed. With a few golems set up there, the place runs itself. I've had them collect a bunch of Chaurus eggs and then smash the rest. Don't need them hatching under our feet.
I've set some mouse golems to explore and start mapping out the massive Blackreach caverns, and secured the field laboratory of an alchemist who had died down there. This Sinderion hadn't been the smartest when it came to self-preservation, but he knew his stuff when it came to alchemy.
I've had the golems start building fortifications around the area close to the Alftand entrance, and through some experimentation, I've gotten a few Dwemer Spheres working again to defend the place. Their crossbows were interesting, and I'm looking at making a type I can mount on the walls I'm building around the area I want to use for farming.
It isn't difficult to get them working and firing at anything that moves, the problem is getting them to just shoot the things I want them to shoot. Ain't much good if my own defences will swivel and put a bolt through my skull now, is it?
A knock on my workshop door makes me stretch, calling for them to come in as I finish my work for the day. I'm just tinkering at this point.
Turning to face Ciri as she enters, I notice how tense she looks and chuckle.
"Finally decided to stop delaying, then?" I ask, making her eyes widen before she lets out a laugh.
"Is it that obvious?" Ciri asks with a conflicted smile. "Tomorrow. I've done everything I can think of to prepare. You've supplied me with such good armour, a Chocobo and Ingrid. It's time I saw more than this little piece of Skyrim."
"Aye. Don't look so grim, Ciri. Like I said, the farm was here before we were born. It'll be here after we're gone. You were made for adventure, Ciri. You were restless by the end of the first weekend, and you've been here for what? A couple of months?" I ask, making her laugh with a nod.
"Longest time I've spent in one place in… a while. No Wild Hunt in sight. It's hard to believe," Ciri admits, leaning against my table as she looks over the Dwemer tech I've been fiddling with. "I guess I was worried they'd follow Caranthir here. I still am, to be honest."
"You can't waste your life worrying about what might happen. You know the farm isn't defenceless, especially with Ranni here now. Write often, visit when you can. Don't let some weird elves control you," I grunt, making her smile. "We'll have a little celebration tonight, then you can set off tomorrow. I'll kick you out myself if I have to. Better than you wasting away worrying."
Ciri laughs at that, nudging me with her shoulder.
"If even a single elf that looks like they're not from this world shows up, send that creepy courier to find me," Ciri says seriously. "I mean it."
"You know I will," I reply as I get up, gesturing for her to follow me back to the main house. She'll need to know if they find her, so it wouldn't be a matter of Nord pride with me wanting to defend my own homestead. Of course, that's not gonna stop me from feeding any of this Wild Hunt who comes looking for Ciri to Barioth. I think he's getting a taste for elf blood, anyway.
"Are you going to be okay with Blackreach without me? I can stay and help clear out more-"
"You're making excuses, Ciri," I cut in, making her pause before she laughs. "You know the golems have already started the perimeter wall, and you cleared out the nearby Falmer and automatons already."
"Honestly, Ranni did more than me. That girl is scary powerful," Ciri admits with a chuckle.
Honestly, I'm hoping to get a new monster to start my livestock farm in Blackreach. Barioth is great but he doesn't like the Blackreach because it's too tight for him to get through the tunnels, and I think he doesn't like the smells down there. I don't blame him.
[Monster Hunter: Nerscylla] - 300cp, 0cp remaining. (200cp discount applied because fuck the Falmer)
Temnocerans that build nests of sticky webbing. They rend prey with their pincer-like jaws after weakening them with abnormal statuses and ensnaring them in webs. They will sometimes adorn themselves with the skin of morsels they have not completely finished eating.
Huh.
"What the fuck- Damn it, Jorgen. Warn a girl before you summon a giant demon spider," Ciri gasps, removing her hand from Ingrid as she throws a dirty look my way.
"Spiders have eight legs, Nerscylla has four and two claws," I reply, looking over the Barioth-sized arachnid-like creature, my eyes roaming over the purple spikes along its back. In the distance, I hear Sudi scream and a door slam shut. Should probably go and explain that it's a friend.
Its mandibles click together, many blueish purple eyes watching me as I move forward and stroke its chitinous back. Could make some good stuff from that. Guess I'll need to add her to the daily material extraction checklist.
Now, the real question. How do I get this baby down into the Blackreach? For Sudi's sake, if nothing else.
"I know that look. I was about to say I almost pity the Falmer, but I very much don't," Ciri says, a dark smirk on her face at the idea of what the blind elves in Blackreach are about to be dealing with.
"I'm sure Nerscylla will be as kind to the Blackreach as Barioth has been to the Winterhold," I say, making her stare at me for a moment before she snorts.
"I can't believe you managed to say that with a straight face," Ciri laughs, getting a smirk from me. Hey, Barioth hasn't hurt the Sabrecats that formed around him as his pack. As for the rest? Well, nobody is going to mourn trolls, ice wraiths and the occasional bandit.
– Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (Ciri) –
She really was going to miss this place, but Jorgen was right. She was wasting away here, her wanderlust unsatisfied with her occasional delve into Blackreach or the surrounding areas. She needed more than just adventure. She needed to be helping people, like the Witcher she'd always wanted to be. This world was dangerous, and she had the skills to help people.
The Companions were perfect for that.
This wasn't her final night at Chillbloom, because she'd be back when the path brought her back to Winterhold or when she wanted a break. After so many years on the run from the Wild Hunt, the idea of having somewhere to go back to was almost alien to her, but if her theories about Jorgen having this world's equivalent of the Elder Blood were true?
Ranni agreed it was possible. Jorgen was casually summoning people and creatures from another world. He was even gaining knowledge from worlds he'd never stepped foot on. If the Wild Hunt heard about him, he'd probably be a more valuable target than her, and that worried her.
Eredin wouldn't give up. Sooner or later, he'd brute-force his way to this world, even without Caranthir. If they followed the trace of her power, it would deposit them right at the farm. Right at Jorgen's doorstep. Which was why she'd talked to Ranni about it, who took her concerns more seriously than Jorgen did.
Ranni was a powerful mage, and that was coming from someone who'd grown up around Yennefer and the Lodge. She'd promised to make a spell that would allow her to send a message to Ciri, no matter the distance. If Ranni warned her the Hunt had found them, she'd use her gift to get back to Chillbloom in an instant. It was the only reason she was willing to actually leave.
Plus, with her Chocobo and the ability to fly with Ingrid, she could move damn fast and check up on the farm if she was even vaguely nearby.
She trusted that Jorgen could take care of himself, but this was her fight and that wasn't mentioning Sudi, who was no fighter. She couldn't live with herself if her new friend died because of her.
Sudi giggled as she boisterously gestured along to her tale of her time training at Kaer Morhen, a tankard of damn good mead in her hand. Somehow, she wasn't surprised that Jorgen had spent time trying to work out how to make spirit booze, so he wasn't stuck with just Dwarven Ale. The feast before them was far too much for four people, especially since Ranni barely ate (she didn't need to eat but could taste, honestly her 'doll' form was weird).
Not that anything would go to waste with Barioth currently drooling on the windows, his eyes on the steaks. Sudi kept sneaking him food, and it was just encouraging him. Of course, she wasn't brave enough to stand between a Barioth and its Popo steak.
As she enjoyed the quiet camaraderie, she smiled to herself as Ranni told one of her own stories of her time at Raya Lucaria. For someone who talked in such an archaic way, she was a surprisingly good orator.
A part of her wished Geralt, Yennefer and Triss were here. And Uncle Vesemir, of course. Maybe Dandelion. Maybe. But for now, the small group of Chillbloom inhabitants were company enough. Great food, amazing booze and better company.
She mentally promised herself that she wouldn't let anything befall her new home, chuckling to herself at how quickly that word had become reality for her. For all the places she'd stayed over her countless jumps, this not-so-little farmstead in a frozen waste somehow beat them all when it came to comfort.
– Ancano –
Someone was performing great magic at this… farm. It was absurd. No elven mage would reduce themselves to working the fields, or using their magic for something so utterly mundane, especially one of such great power.
Even from the college, he (and all proper mages) could feel the strange, alien magic in play since the caster was doing little to hide their actions as they reached out to Secunda and Masser. What they wanted with the two moons was anyone's guess, but it had made him take things far more seriously than he had wanted to. It insulted him to think that such great magic was being wasted on a backwater plot of frozen dirt. Who was this mage that was so calmly prodding and poking Aetherius? Surely not the farmer himself, that would be beyond insulting.
Somewhere, deep down, a voice reminded him that the magic they were doing was beyond great. It was beyond what he could do, beyond what any of the Justicars he'd brought with him could manage, as they slipped toward the farm in the later hours, under illusion magic to hide their presence.
Elenwen had made her decision; the residents of this place were to be captured for interrogation. She wanted to know why so many white-barked, red-leaved trees had grown around this hold, what the golems were, what the magic was and perhaps most of all, what that giant beast that roamed the mountains was.
It had been seen as far west as Dawnstar and as south as Windhelm, with many of the superstitious Nords believing it to be some kind of omen or divine beast due to its habit of occasionally slaughtering threats to travellers. He was not so naive, but he knew a deadly beast when he saw one. A deadly weapon as somehow, this Jorgen seemed to have it tamed.
He would have that power for the Aldmeri Dominion. Not just this overexaggerated sabercat, but the power to tame the many monsters of the world. In his mind, he could see the glory he would be given if he brought the knowledge on how to weaponise such creatures back to the Summerset Isles. It was doubly important with knowledge that a dragon of all things had destroyed Helgan. If he could be the one to bring such a creature under their control, Elenwen would be the one answering to him instead of him being her underling, sent to this frozen corner of Skyrim to watch a group of mages unworthy of the title.
No, he would not let Elenwen profit from his discovery.
Spotting the massive beast pressing itself against the window of the main building, he mentally admitted that he may have given the tales too little credit. He nodded to the mage, who recast the spells to hide them from both the beast's eyes and ears, feeling a shiver of fear which he got under control.
They were the Thalmor's best, three Altmer mages with nearly a dozen soldiers. They could handle that creature, especially when it was so oblivious to their slow approach.
It wasn't like this mudpit had any other great monsters, after all-
As he tried to move, his foot remained stuck to the ground, and his eyes widened. Looking down, he felt a cold shard stab into his heart as he saw the webbing his foot was stuck in, failing to break free with his strength alone.
That's when the screaming started.
– Jorgen –
"What's wrong?" Ciri asks, noticing my expression change.
"Elves. Not yours, don't worry," I grumble, [Jichinsai] keeping me informed of the fools who trespassed on my property. "Thalmor, I think. Damn near two dozen of them bastards."
"...do we need to help?" Ciri asks, looking over at where her shirt has been tossed aside. I pause, my eyes moving down to her bare chest, my hand on her waist as I brush my fingers against one of her small scars.
"Nah," I rumble, feeling the lives end one by one as Nerscylla explains my policy on midnight visitors. Ciri pauses for a moment before she snorts, kissing me again. Sudi is in bed, fast asleep, the lightweight, and Ranni wandered off at some point talking about the stars.
As a very amateurish mage who doesn't understand the more theoretical side of things? I haven't got a clue what she's talking about. Something about the stars being windows to something. She seems to be having fun, at least? I sure as fuck am.
As my tunic is tossed away, Ciri takes my hand with an impish smile as she leads me toward my bedroom.
Feat Achieved: Kill Ancano, 100cp. 100cp total.
Who?
Pushing me back onto my bed, Ciri pauses as she hooks her fingers into her skin-tight trousers, the hesitation making me raise an eyebrow. She started this, and she was rather clear about her intentions.
"This is just some fun, alright? I'm still leaving in the morning," Ciri says, making me nod. "I like you, a lot, but I'm not the type of girl to get tied down."
"I know," I respond simply, well aware of Ciri's personality by now. She's a good friend, and I won't deny that I am definitely looking forward to this, but I don't expect her to settle down over a night of admittedly somewhat drunken fun.
At my response, Ciri grins and slowly peels off the leather pants, revealing her long, toned legs and a rose tattoo on her upper thigh. What it doesn't reveal is any underwear, making me suspect she had this planned since long before she took her first drink. Her womanhood is on display, even neatly shaven, telling me that yes, she came prepared.
Pulling down my own smallclothes, I watch as her eyes widen slightly before a hungry smile crosses her lips. This isn't my first time, and I've been reliably informed that I'm well-endowed for my size.
And I'm a big guy to begin with.
She's got a littering of small scars on her body, signs of her dangerous life. I have a couple of my own, but those come from working in the mines, and Ciri's are obviously from more serious dangers than a falling rock. Doesn't detract from her beauty at all as she prowls toward the bed.
Moving onto the bed, Ciri grins at me as she kisses me roughly, her hands exploring my bare chest before moving down to grasp my cock. Her lips taste of the new mead we've both been downing, and the spices from the meal.
Lining herself up, she drops herself onto my shaft with zero hesitation. I've been around a little, mostly with women from Dawnstar, but Ciri is certainly the most beautiful and by far the tightest as her inner muscles, from her very active life, begin to squeeze and milk my cock. Within seconds, she's set a fast, rough pace with my hands on her ass and a grin on her face.
"I've been thinking about this for a while. I do like my men… beefy," Ciri moans, her hands on my chest as she rides me. "And by the gods, I love watching you work the fields and the forge."
I laugh at that, proud to hear it. Some of the female miners got in trouble because they were too busy watching me work to do anything themselves. Beitild had no patience for idiots too busy gawking to work.
"Can't say it hasn't crossed my- fuck, you're tight. Crossed my mind," I admit, gritting my teeth as she rolls her hips in a certain way that sends a wave of pleasure through me. She just giggles drunkenly as she kisses me again.
We're both going to be paying for our… considerable indulgence in the various boozes, so we'd better make the most of it before the hangover hits us like a troll.
Flipping us over, she yelps in surprise as I pin her down beneath me and begin to thrust. I've never been good at lying around.
– Ranni the Witch –
As the moans escaped the house, Ranni hummed to herself and adjusted the telescope she'd had Jorgen make for her. His skill in the art of crafting put Iji to shame, and she'd barely had to explain what she wanted before he'd planned it all out, calling on his otherworldly knowledge.
She'd seen this coming. She could claim to have foresight and the ability to read people, but in truth, she was just surprised they'd lasted this long. The pair lusted for each other's bodies daily, and Jorgen was simply too serious to be the one to make the first move. With the addition of alcohol, their coupling was all but inevitable, hence why she'd decided to make herself scarce.
Her doll body didn't require sleep in the same way that a mortal form did, especially empowered by her bond to the Celestial power that lived within Jorgen, and it was a nice night. The stars were bright, the skies clear.
In truth, she feared her doll body would become a hindrance now that she was away from her homeland. She'd chosen this form to free herself from the control of the Greater Will, as her very body had bound her to them as an Empyrean. She would achieve godhood, but on her own terms, not under the thrall of the Greater Will.
And yet, here? There was no Greater Will; the many gods taking a more subtle approach to their divinity than those of her home. In this world, her doll body was more of a hindrance than a boon. Seluvis may have been a twisted fool, but his talent in the maintenance and creation of puppets had bought him his life. He planned to betray her, of course, hoping to make her into one of his puppets, but he would die long before he would achieve that goal.
And yet, she did not fear. This realm was one of true power and potential. One only needed to look up to the stars to see that. Her mother would love to study them, but for now, Ranni worked alone.
As Cirilla's pleas for more reached her ears, she chuckled to herself. It had been many a year since she had felt the desires of flesh, but she remembered them all the same. For all their power, Jorgen and Cirilla were barely adults.
And yet, they both wielded such great power and potential. Jorgen's power seemed bottomless, calling out into the greater multiverse and calling forth power and knowledge that would make the greatest students of Raya Lucaria green with envy. Cirilla, however, was her main focus. She had not given up her ambition to bring about an Age of Stars and free her world from the tyranny of the Greater Will, and Cirilla proved her best way of getting home.
Jorgen had no desire for grand adventures or lofty ambitions, but she knew that he was a friend, loyal and true. If someone dear to him required his great power, he would not hesitate to wield it. She did not intend to manipulate him, but to become one such person.
But to reach her home, she needed to study Cirilla's power more and remove the threat to the young traveller of worlds so she could use it freely. This Wild Hunt stood between her and her ambition. A foolish place to be.
It was a position they shared with another group of elves as she looked over into the distance where the mighty Nerscylla was feasting. These… Thalmor would not leave Jorgen alone. Power attracted vultures, those who would wish to see it extinguished or shackled, and the Thalmor seemed the jealous types from what little he knew about them and what she had learned in her studies.
A problematic sort, but this showing was a pathetic one. The Thalmor were alien to this land, and hated by both the Imperial loyalists and the Stormcloak rebels, yet they acted with such undeserved assurance. Should they continue to pose a threat, they would die. This would hardly be a scheme on the scale of the Night of Black Knives.
And yet, while his ambitions were focused only on his farm, she knew the world would not permit such simple goals. Excellence attracted those who wished to either attach themselves to it or abuse it for their own ends. Doubly so in a time of war. Had this farm sat in her lands during the Shattering, each of the factions would have tried to enlist him into their numbers. This world was not so different, as he already knew. The Imperials, the Stormcloaks, they would come for him with gilded words and promises at first, but when defied?
As she'd freed herself from the Greater Will, she would free Jorgen from their machinations.
– Sudi –
Biting her lip, she listened to the rhythmic thumping and moans coming from Jorgen's bedroom. She was not as drunk as she had acted, but she couldn't deny that more ale swam through her body than she'd ever drunk before.
Ciri's moans sounded so desperate, and Sudi had no delusions over what was happening in the next room. She didn't hold it against Ciri, how could she when the Witcher was her saviour? And yet, she knew she was, at least a little, pleased that Ciri was leaving.
Her face flushed, she wondered if she could have been the one moaning had she made her move first. Jorgen had been beyond good to her, and she knew her heart yearned for him in a way she had never felt for another before.
She'd tried to tell herself that she saw him as a father figure, given his stern, serious nature, but she couldn't lie to herself like that. What she felt for Jorgen was nothing paternal in nature.
But could she be blamed? He was a handsome young man who owned his own farm and had taken it from a frozen ruin to a flourishing farm in such a short amount of time. Jorgen was undeniably a high value man, and it wouldn't be long before others realised that. Sure, when Ciri left, her main rival would be gone as she didn't think Ranni was the type to care for such things, but Jorgen was bound to attract more women. She'd have to act fast if she wanted him.
But for tonight, she laid there and listened to the sounds of Ciri getting well and truly fucked by their handsome host, her hand slipping under her clothes as she stroked her virgin slit. She could blame the drink tomorrow, but for now…
– Jorgen – Next Morning –
Opening my eyes, I immediately regret my life as the light coming in through the window punishes me for my arrogance, tangled in the sheets as I stumble out of bed and fall flat on my face with a groan of pain as the sheets refuse to move and trip me.
"Mrhgfh," the figure huddled in my sheets, gripping them like a lifeline, mumbles as she pulls the sheet over her head to block out the sunlight, the ruffled sheets leaving her naked lower half on display. "Shuu it."
Stumbling over to the window, I close it and yank the curtains over it with a tired groan. How much did I drink last night?
"Too much," Ciri answers, telling me that I spoke out loud as she finally crawls from her cocoon. I think we kept drinking after round one. Round two and three as well. "What time is it?"
Peeking through the window, I curse myself for having eyes as I glance at where the sun is hanging.
"Midday, at least. Damn it all, I'm usually done with my chores before midday," I grumble, rubbing my eyes as I turn back and watch Ciri get out of bed, naked as the day she was born.
"Don't your golems do most of the work?" Ciri asks, making me nod after a moment. I have automated ninety-nine percent of the work. Sudi is up, and has fed the animals, and Nerscylla has… dragged the thalmor corpses into a nearby cave that she's claimed for now.
I'll move her to Blackreach today. I should be able to unsummon and resummon her. Gonna have to deal with the corpses as well. That's going to be a mess, but they weren't sneaking into my land in the dead of night for fun.
I don't (openly) worship Talos, so they don't have the right to barge in and act like they own the place. My great-grandparents built this farm and I won't have some fucking poncy high elves come and cause trouble for it. I might not be a Stormcloak, but this is my home, and I won't be bullied out of it.
"So much for leaving in the morning," Ciri grunts, stretching in a way that makes her breasts jiggle. Spotting my gaze, she grins at me. "Like what you see?"
"I think we established that last night," I counter, making her shrug (which also makes her small breasts do interesting things. "You packed yesterday, right?"
"Yeah, I figured I'd be a bit hungover this morning. My Elder Blood will see me right soon enough," Ciri says with a smile, a mixture of teasing and wistful. "I'll miss you."
"Then come back between jobs. Chocobo's are fast enough and Whiterun isn't that far away in the grand scheme of things," I point out with a shrug.
"I'm trying to be dramatic, stop being logical. You're such a man, sometimes," Ciri scolds with a laugh. "But you're right. This is far from goodbye. Are you going to be okay with those elves? There were some elves, right?"
"Nerscylla killed them all, and I'll get rid of the bodies in Blackreach today. Good for fertilising the mushrooms," I say with a shrug, making her snort.
"And if more come?" Ciri asks.
"Got a lot of fields that could use some fertilising," I reply. "I made a bunch of food for the road yesterday, stuff that won't spoil on your adventures. Packed some Dwarven Brew in your bag of holding as well."
"I can't tell if you don't want me to go or if you can't wait to get rid of me," Ciri laughs, making me snort.
"You'll just keep brooding if you stay, and it's distracting. Plus, you're a shit farmer," I tease.
"Guilty as charged," Ciri agrees with a grin. "What should I do when people ask about all the different stuff I have?"
"Tell them the truth, or tell them to fuck off. You're a big girl, make your own decisions," I deadpan, going for my clothes so I can start my chores for the day.
Before I can pull them on, Ciri grabs me and pulls me back onto the bed with a grin.
"Not just yet, the farm will still be there in an hour or two," Ciri purrs, and despite the growing chores, I pause before I grin, pinning her down.
– Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (Ciri) –
As she watched the farm grow smaller in the distance, she felt herself smile. As comfortable as life on the farm was, the path just felt right to her. Beneath her, her chocobo let out a kwah of excitement as she sped up, running toward Frostflow Lighthouse.
From there, Dawnstar and then south to Whiterun. Her Barioth armour gleamed in the snow, and her bag of holding carried more than enough supplies because Jorgen really was far too generous for a business owner.
She wondered if he was planning to use her as free advertising or whether he just hadn't wanted her to go unprepared. Either way, she'd make sure to spread word of his talents to every Hold she found herself in.
With the Wild Hunt delayed- though she doubted it would hold- Ciri felt herself grin at the adventure before her. No matter how many worlds she found herself in, this never got old and this world was so similar to her own in a lot of ways, only the monster hunters weren't spat on or hated. Everyone she'd talked to made the Companions out to be a group to be respected and appreciated.
One day, when the threat of the Hunt was behind, maybe she'd bring Geralt here to a world where he'd actually be appreciated for all the work he did to protect people. But then, she hadn't seen how good-looking the sorceresses were yet, so maybe he wouldn't like it as much as she did.
As she went over the hill and the last view of the farm faded, she felt herself frown for just a moment. Damn it all, she already missed them. If it wasn't for the bloody Wild Hunt, she could teleport back whenever she wanted…
She had left so many friends behind over the years, and honestly? She was fucking sick of it. Her frown turned to a serious scowl, her conversation with Ranni crossing her mind. She was sick of running, she'd slip up eventually. No, she needed to get stronger, gather allies and put a stop to those who'd haunted her every step.
Eredin had to die.
– Jorgen –
Watching Ciri leave, a thought occurs.
This place needs better paths. The 'path' to both Winterhold and Frostflow is barely worthy of the name at all, and it isn't like I lack resources. Sure, I may not technically own the paths but it isn't like anyone is going to complain about me laying down some proper stone roads to connect myself to the nearby locations better.
"Do you think she'll be okay?" Sudi asks, making me laugh.
"I'm more worried for the rest of Skyrim. Ciri is a beautiful woman travelling alone, she's bound to attract unwanted attention. I also pity the poor bastards," I chuckle as I ruffle Sudi's hair. "Ciri will be perfectly fine, and she'll be back."
Sudi smiles at that, though it is a complex expression as we get to work harvesting the Mosswine mushrooms. I'm going to cultivate them in the Blackreach, since they grow fairly slowly on the back of the Mosswine.
Feat Achieved: Fuck Ciri (100cp). 200cp total
Huh?
As my mind goes back to last night, I pause before I nod with a grunt of amusement. Surviving a night with Ciri probably is a feat, given her libido. By Dibella, I hope she's back sooner rather than later because the Dawnstar girls don't compare.
[God's Secret Hot Spring] - 200cp, 0cp remaining
Source: Akame ga Kill!
Located on the Empire's borderlands, this hot spring is basically an excellent place of healing, made up of all different kinds of therapeutic and medicinal hot springs, with the property of greatly extending someone's lifespan if they had it decreased due to some external factors, such as diseases, usage of life-consuming abilities, extended usage of drugs, effects of potent toxins, among other possible factors. There are reports of people who were diagnosed with half a year left to live from some disease, going on to live for as much as another five years or even longer in some cases, and this is through only by being treated with its waters, so, if combined with other healing treatments, their lifespan could be extended far longer. Such a place is also perfect for treating someone's addiction, as its waters also heal the withdrawal effects they might suffer. You receive your own secret hot spring,
As my farm gets its latest expansion, the strangely exotic building in the hills, I pause for a moment. For just a moment, my Nordic pride was going to scoff at the very concept of needing a hot spring. I'm a true-blooded Nord, and the cold is no bother to me, magical waters or not.
Then I remember how cold the winters get, and how close we are to it, and shut my damn mouth before my power takes away the hot spring. All I know is this. Ciri is going to be so damn jealous that she left right before we got this.
— Bonus Scene — Danica Pure-Spring
She didn't go on a pilgrimage easily. With the war on, and Whiterun being in the dead centre of the chaos, she simply didn't have the time. People had complained about the state of the Gildergreen and that she should fix it for months, but when was she supposed to put things on hold to do so? Plus, the war meant that danger was at an all-time high, even for a travelling priestess.
And yet, when the letter from Keeper Carcette arrived, she'd had to reconsider.
Carcette was not prone to flights of fancy or over exaggeration. Despite being the head of an admittedly rather zealous group, Carcette was a reasonable and responsible woman. So, when that woman started talking about trees blessed by Kynareth, how could she ignore it?
She was a priestess of Kynareth first and foremost.
Carcette had even offered some Vigilants to escort her so she could help confirm that these were not the work of the daedra. With Carcette paying for a carriage, the lengthy journey to the coldest Hold was far faster than she had feared, and she felt herself pause as she reached the path that should lead to Chillbloom Farm.
You could tell where the main road separated from the side path because of the rapid change in the path's quality, but… wasn't the main road usually the better one?
The rough path to Winterhold separated, one similar path going south towards Windhelm and one turning off toward a mountain path. Her confusion rose as she turned onto the mountain path, looking at the neatly-paved stone path with a frown.
To make things more confusing, she looked at the finely-crafted metal pole with a softly glowing white orb in the centre, lighting the path with a gentle light. It was one of many, equally spaced along the road to the farm. This path was better than the paths in Solitude, and it was for a random farm in the middle of nowhere?
Carcette hadn't mentioned this, and it seemed like an odd detail to leave out. Something new?
That wasn't even mentioning the way the Northern chill seemed to fade, the very path they were walking on feeling warm to the touch as it melted the nearby snow. Some great magic was at work here.
But she was no mage, and understood nothing about how this had been achieved. Her goal was elsewhere as she spotted the first of the trees that Carcette had claimed Jorgen called Weirwood trees.
The white-bark and bright red leaves were unmistakable from Carcette's description and she broke away from the path toward it. Few trees could grow this far North, with its frozen ground and icy weather, but the Weirwood stood tall as she approached it.
Placing a single hand on the tree, she called upon her bond with Kynareth. She did not believe herself a particularly powerful priestess, and yet… in an instant, her mind expanded and she saw them. Planted all over the surrounding areas, she saw through the very trees, her mind moving from Weirwood to Weirwood as all were connected in a way far deeper than mere physical roots. Her bond with Kynareth sung, and her purpose was made clear.
Kynareth wanted Weirwoods spread throughout Skyrim, throughout Tamriel, and it had been her divine will that brought her this far north. Still, as much as she wanted to remain by the tree and study the divine will flowing through its roots more, she knew she had more work to do.
Rising, she turned and headed toward the farmstead in the distance, wondering what kind of man had been so clearly chosen by Kynareth.