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To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
[ Geralt, meanwhile, is merely picking out a loaf of bread (the Feywilds do not seem to have much by way of baked goods and cheese) when he sees John's scrawled text.
Ah. He does so often forget the man is less used to his constant wandering. ]
I'm in Nocwich, safe and sound. I promise.
I thought you might enjoy a less...
Fey-touched breakfast.
Ah. He does so often forget the man is less used to his constant wandering. ]
I'm in Nocwich, safe and sound. I promise.
I thought you might enjoy a less...
Fey-touched breakfast.
[Geralt’s reply, when it comes so quickly, is both a relief and an exasperation. One, that he had not thought to simply message Geralt in the first and save himself the headache. And secondly, that Geralt had not simply let him know where he was going and saved them both this conversation overall…
John takes a moment to collect himself before his reply. There may be something of a tone of him pinching the bridge of his nose in the scrawl of his words, because that is exactly what’s happening.]
It is true that I would, and I thank you for thinking of me.
But could you not have at least left a note? For the sake of my sanity, if nothing else.
John takes a moment to collect himself before his reply. There may be something of a tone of him pinching the bridge of his nose in the scrawl of his words, because that is exactly what’s happening.]
It is true that I would, and I thank you for thinking of me.
But could you not have at least left a note? For the sake of my sanity, if nothing else.
Whether or not it's true, Oliver believes himself a descendent of one of the gods. Apparently he can survive being in the realm of the Singularity, like us. He may be looking into ways to ascend. I wouldn't be surprised if we run afoul of him eventually.
[“Overly much”? Wow, excuse you!]
Need I remind you that I have a twenty-year-old son whose true father is none other than James Fraser himself.
[Has he shared that before? Well he’s doing so now, oops.]
You and I both are lucky I survived his teenage years. I will have you know I have learned to fuss just enough as is warranted. Through experience.
In other words, please do, yes.
Need I remind you that I have a twenty-year-old son whose true father is none other than James Fraser himself.
[Has he shared that before? Well he’s doing so now, oops.]
You and I both are lucky I survived his teenage years. I will have you know I have learned to fuss just enough as is warranted. Through experience.
In other words, please do, yes.
No, you are not, and I am sufficiently grateful for both facts. Though the pair of you certainly do have enough in common to keep me en grade.
[Grumble, grumble. Now that he knows you are safe, the worry is drying up and leaving him snippy.]
For such an effort of traveling so far afield for your ingredients, I am now expecting something particularly delicious, I will have you know.
[Well. Not too snippy that he cannot still flirt from afar.]
[Grumble, grumble. Now that he knows you are safe, the worry is drying up and leaving him snippy.]
For such an effort of traveling so far afield for your ingredients, I am now expecting something particularly delicious, I will have you know.
[Well. Not too snippy that he cannot still flirt from afar.]
I don't actually know what he looks like. Do you have a physical description?
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