It doesn't take long for Geralt to come to his senses, even as much as he hates the feeling of being teleported somewhere else. Last he remembered, he was alone in a strange desert land, and had been for some time, though it was impossible to tell how long. And now here he suddenly is, in a cozy little firelit room standing in front of a desk.
It also doesn't take long for Geralt to draw his sword in paranoia.
Some sort of elven magic, it must be - one of the Aen Elle? No, this does not look as airy and elegant as Tir ná Lia. A powerful sorcerer could pull such a working, and fashion such a place for himself. The plate on the desk says Hakan Caesar. "Name doesn't ring a bell," Geralt mutters to himself, almost as a confirmation of the fact in his portal-weary mind. Given that this being has Ciri's level of talent with the art, it's a little disturbing even if he doesn't recognize either name.
... the only other things he can think of that has Ciri's knack for teleportation are the Travelers' mysterious hosts. That can't be good, if they're suddenly taking an interest in him again.
"Show yourself," Geralt states to the room at large, turning slowly in a circle in front of the fire, both his catlike eyes and superhuman ears searching for a phantom attacker or an ambush.
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It also doesn't take long for Geralt to draw his sword in paranoia.
Some sort of elven magic, it must be - one of the Aen Elle? No, this does not look as airy and elegant as Tir ná Lia. A powerful sorcerer could pull such a working, and fashion such a place for himself. The plate on the desk says Hakan Caesar. "Name doesn't ring a bell," Geralt mutters to himself, almost as a confirmation of the fact in his portal-weary mind. Given that this being has Ciri's level of talent with the art, it's a little disturbing even if he doesn't recognize either name.
... the only other things he can think of that has Ciri's knack for teleportation are the Travelers' mysterious hosts. That can't be good, if they're suddenly taking an interest in him again.
"Show yourself," Geralt states to the room at large, turning slowly in a circle in front of the fire, both his catlike eyes and superhuman ears searching for a phantom attacker or an ambush.
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"Greetings, Geralt of Rivia. I am the Emperor, numbered fourth among the Arcana, and this is my Conversation Space."