I don't know much about it, of course, but it doesn't exactly feel dwarven. As much as it's told me, anyway.
[Which isn't much. And he certainly never spoke to any monolith on the Continent. It feels a bit more than coincidence they were pulled into another world using one. It's far too close. It only means the Continent is not the only one with such magicla technology.
For fuck's sake. He really is only a bard. And he still does not know why she chose him, except that is very talented at making those once hated, beloved.
He sets his mug back down, getting up to pace. There is one thing he did not get to yet through the story of the Seven -- the ending, with the storming of the Empress's keep. How it was possible.]
Of course, I think we should stay here. But I do believe you've always insisted that knowing one's enemy is important. [And feeling some misguided pity for the Red Riders, or for the elves, will not change his love for Ciri. He would do anything a bard could to protect her.
And if they should break a prophecy? All the better. That's rather exciting stuff.
Jaskier licks his lips, walking past Geralt. He pauses, then paces again.] There's one other thing. It's... it was the crux of this entire rebellion. Once the Seven discovered they could cross over to other spheres, they... they brought a monster's heart with them. [He stops, and he looks at Geralt, and there is a deep sadness there. The horrid part, he thinks, of what he learned. The worst. This echoing chamber that still holds the cries of children, stained with their splashes of blood and failures. Torn down and replaced with a gilded gold temple.
Jaskier wonders if he should even bring it up, but Geralt himself would say it was his past. Long past. A trial he survived.] They needed a monster to destroy a monster. So they... they made one.
[He sits back down.] From the Trial of the Grasses. And the monster's heart. This elf was the first of his kind. Of your kind.
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[Which isn't much. And he certainly never spoke to any monolith on the Continent. It feels a bit more than coincidence they were pulled into another world using one. It's far too close. It only means the Continent is not the only one with such magicla technology.
For fuck's sake. He really is only a bard. And he still does not know why she chose him, except that is very talented at making those once hated, beloved.
He sets his mug back down, getting up to pace. There is one thing he did not get to yet through the story of the Seven -- the ending, with the storming of the Empress's keep. How it was possible.]
Of course, I think we should stay here. But I do believe you've always insisted that knowing one's enemy is important. [And feeling some misguided pity for the Red Riders, or for the elves, will not change his love for Ciri. He would do anything a bard could to protect her.
And if they should break a prophecy? All the better. That's rather exciting stuff.
Jaskier licks his lips, walking past Geralt. He pauses, then paces again.] There's one other thing. It's... it was the crux of this entire rebellion. Once the Seven discovered they could cross over to other spheres, they... they brought a monster's heart with them. [He stops, and he looks at Geralt, and there is a deep sadness there. The horrid part, he thinks, of what he learned. The worst. This echoing chamber that still holds the cries of children, stained with their splashes of blood and failures. Torn down and replaced with a gilded gold temple.
Jaskier wonders if he should even bring it up, but Geralt himself would say it was his past. Long past. A trial he survived.] They needed a monster to destroy a monster. So they... they made one.
[He sits back down.] From the Trial of the Grasses. And the monster's heart. This elf was the first of his kind. Of your kind.