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TWL Chapter 263: Howling in the Shadows of Freya’s Garden
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 16:02:19 +0000 UTCLann looked at Donar and the high priestess before him. They were both kneeling, heads bowed, still as statues.
Lann, for his part, did not participate in the ceremony. Since that unfortunate incident in the Circle of Elements, he had sworn not to meditate or pray anywhere that might entail the slightest risk.
Seeing Lann's indifference, Gerd made no attempt to get involved either. Witchers were guided by conviction, not faith, especially not a witcher from the School of the Bear.
The high priestess showed no anger at the two men's lack of devotion. She simply turned her attention to Donar and continued with the ceremony.
The result was a curiously sober scene: no psalms, no chants, no trace of mysterious rituals. Just two devotees kneeling on the ground, silently praying for divine power.
A quarter of an hour passed, and Gerd was about to yawn. His patience was beginning to wear thin.
Lann, however, remained calm. He watched cautiously, waiting to see if the high priestess would truly succeed in summoning the power of her god.
He trusted King Bran and Donar as well.
An elderly Jarl, revered by all, would not be one to be carried away by religious delusions. This matter, concerning the succession to the throne of Skellige, would not be treated lightly.
In this patient waiting, another quarter of an hour passed.
Suddenly, Lann felt a gaze fixed on him.
It was a feeling similar to the one he had experienced before, when the young priestesses had watched him curiously along the way. Accustomed to being the object of stares, Lann was especially sensitive to them.
However, this time the look was not shy or furtive like that of the girls. It was… shamelessly direct.
This look was as if someone in the middle of the night had approached with a lit torch, so close that it risked setting his hair on fire.
If that level of intrusion was intensified a few more times, Lann would have thought the Mirror Master had returned from the astral plane to observe him.
Fortunately, the look didn't last long. After what seemed like a brief analysis, it disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.
At that very moment, the high priestess, who was still praying, suddenly convulsed. She gasped desperately for a breath of air.
Donar, alarmed by the priestess's movement, snapped out of his concentration and looked at her with a mixture of astonishment and... envy.
“I have received the revelation of the Goddess.” Said the High Priestess, first with a sigh of relief, but then her face took on an expression difficult to describe.
“The answer lies in Morkvarg.” She declared, her voice filled with suppressed anger.
Lann recognized that expression. It was the face of someone suppressing intense rage.
“Who is Morkvarg?” Gerd asked curiously.
“He was once a pirate, a blasphemer.” The priestess replied, taking a deep breath to calm herself. “Now he is a werewolf, a cursed beast that can never satisfy its hunger.”
...
"Lann, I have a question. Do you think that high priestess is using us for revenge? Did she give us a totally irrelevant mission just to fulfill her own goals?" Gerd asked skeptically.
He would never have imagined that, instead of investigating those responsible for the attack on the king, they would end up chasing a werewolf.
Lann shook his head. "I don't believe in gods, but I respect them. I also trust that a high priestess would not disobey divine commands for personal gain. In a situation like this, it is impossible for her to act out of revenge."
The high priestess had told them about Morkvarg, an infamous pirate known for his cruelty.
In the past, Morkvarg and his crew had wreaked havoc on the Skellige Archipelago. They stole, raped and murdered without anyone being able to stop them, not even the patrols organized by the jarls. Rumors began to spread that Morkvarg feared only one thing: the wrath of the gods. However, the arrogant and defiant pirate decided to prove the rumor false.
He sailed to the island of Hindarsfjall, where he laid waste to Freya's Garden, destroying everything in his path, defying both the deity and those who worshipped her.
That day became one of the darkest for Freya's temple. It was said that Morkvarg had captured the priestesses, slitting their throats as if it were a ritual sacrifice.
The high priestess of the time, Ulve, cast one last powerful curse before she died: she condemned Morkvarg to become a half-man, half-wolf creature.
"According to the current High Priestess's information, Morkvarg not only has the appearance of a werewolf, but is also immortal and tormented by an insatiable hunger." Gerd commented thoughtfully. Then he added: "However, I have a question. How is it possible that Freya's temple, a sacred and protected place, was so easily taken by a group of pirates? And after so much looting and murder, the only punishment he received was a curse? It seems disproportionate to me."
Lann didn't answer the question, but he couldn't help but notice something in Gerd's tone. "Are you interested in law?"
Gerd shook his head. "I just do what I'm paid to do, nothing more. But working with those in power, you notice certain things. Let's just say I've developed a set of moral values… albeit simple ones."
Lann patted him on the shoulder. "Then you can start thinking about how to judge Morkvarg in your own way."
As he said that, Lann looked at his system panel. After the high priestess made the request, Lann received the system notification.
[New Quest: In Wolf's Clothing
Freya's Garden, a sacred place in the Skellige Archipelago, has been reduced to ruins. Although Morkvarg paid with his humanity, that is not enough. The priestesses of the goddess yearn for revenge, but their faith prevents them from acting directly. Now they have the perfect excuse. Moreover, this objective is linked to your current quest. Helping them is also helping yourself.]
Lann sighed. Ever since he had arrived on the archipelago, quests had been appearing too frequently.
Gerd, thinking, asked: "Lann, I have another question."
Lann raised his eyebrows. "Why, do you need my advice on the law?"
"No... not exactly." Gerd looked down, hesitating. "I heard that... your image was included in the Gwent card game, and that they're even going to release an improved version of your card. I want to know how you managed it."
Then Gerd raised his head with determination. "I want my image to appear in Gwent too!"
Lann stopped dead in his tracks and, turning around, sighed, then said sincerely: "To be honest, I don't know why I was included in the Gwent cards. So I can't teach you anything about it…"
Gerd was visibly disappointed. "So… do you at least have your letter? I'd like to see it."
"I don't collect those things...but my servant seems to have it, and his card skills should be good. You can have a good exchange with him later."
…
In front of them was Freya's Garden, now a place of ruins.
Ruins and withered trees littered the area, while rays of sunlight filtered through the cracks, dimly illuminating the surroundings. Amidst the chaos, apple and cherry trees could be seen, once tended to, now growing wild.
Lann touched a vine-covered holly tree. Its cracked trunk exuded a yellowish liquid, as if silently cursing the world.
"How will we find Morkvarg?" Gerd asked as he thought out loud. "Werewolves can be lured, but this one seems special. Maybe we should use a deer as bait and…"
"It won't work." Lann interrupted. "If we do that, the deer will be eaten before the werewolf arrives."
As they were talking, the howling of wolves rang out in the abandoned garden.
Powerful werewolves have the ability to command wolves. Morkvarg has an immortal body and is the product of a curse. Obviously, he is powerful enough.
Gerd nodded, admitting that he hadn't thought it through. His right hand had already reached his back and grabbed the hilt of the steel sword.
But Lann was faster.
As the shadows began to move and a pack of wolves emerged from the rubble, Lann struck the ground, and a giant purple magic circle enveloped them.
Gerd reacted instinctively to cast a Quen Sign, but he quickly noticed that his movement was not slowed in the slightest. Inside the circle, only the wolves had been trapped in slow, clumsy movement.
Gerd's expression filled with excitement. "Lann, I have to admit! Fighting alongside you is incredibly exciting!"
His blood began to boil. He unsheathed his longsword and leapt forcefully towards a wolf that was being slowed by the Yrden Sign.
However, in the next instant, a bright purple lightning bolt pierced the wolf, sending it flying into the air.
With a crash, Gerd's sword stabbed deep into the ground, tearing through the grass and leaving a huge scar in the earth.
The attack, which had gathered all its strength, ended up hitting the void. Just before releasing the peak of his emotion, it was suddenly suppressed. Gerd felt something worse than losing ten consecutive Gwent card games.
Turning around, he saw that the wolf was already lying on the ground, convulsing, unable to get up. He would probably die within seconds.
The other wolves were in a similar state.
These creatures no longer had the ability to force Lann to draw his sword. The Yrden Sign's automatic magic attack was enough to take care of everything.
