She runs her finger on the edge of the mug. Wind howls outside, throwing grains of sand against the windows. She should have left earlier, now she'll have to walk home in a dust storm. The innkeeper is wiping the counter while humming a tune. Apart from the innkeeper and the young woman, the inn is empty. A man enters the inn dusting himself off at the entrance and leaving a pile of sand behind him. The innkeeper frowns at the man. The man walks over to the young woman, rubbing his bald head. She doesn't lift her gaze from her mug. Her brown hair frames her beautiful face and a medallion, a head of a cat, hangs from her neck. The man sits across from her and she looks up and smiles to him. Her amber eyes sparkling, staring into his, but upon seeing his expression her smile fades. The two look at each other in silence as the fire crackles happily behind them.
"Letho… I… I didn't think I'd get to see you again." She says.
"I… I didn't know you were going to be here. Ilma… I'm sorry…"
The desperation in his voice is heartbreaking. She swallows her tears as she reaches for the two swords next to her, one steel and the other silver, and puts them on her back.
"Is she outside?" She asks, without looking at him.
"Yeah, with bunch of mercenaries. Nothing you can't handle."
She frowns and looks at him.
"She'll tear me to pieces!"
"She wants you alive." Letho gets up and looks at the young woman in the eyes. "Besides, I made the mistake of finding you, not going hand you over to her."
The witcheress walks towards the door, Letho follows close behind. She throws a few coins to the innkeeper and nods at him. The innkeeper nods back and ducks behind the counter, as the witchers step outside. The wind is getting stronger. Ilma puts up her hood to shield herself from the dust flying around. As they walk towards the square in front, she counts the dark figures. One… Two, three, fourth one over there and the fifth standing next to a woman in the middle. A magical shield is covering the whole square, protecting the woman and the mercenaries from the storm. The witchers step inside the dome.
"You've done your part, Letho."
The woman, Sabra Mallowburne, says and throws a small pouch at Letho. It lands on his feet, but the witcher doesn't pick it up.
"You don't want the coin? So be it…" She turns her attention to the young woman. "I've been looking everywhere for you."
"I know, I've been trying to avoid you." Ilma says.
"There is a better life for you than the life of a witcher. I didn't do all this so you could slay monsters for barely enough coin to survive!" The sorceress says.
"You made a witcher and you got a witcher."
"You are alive because of me! You'd be dead if I hadn't protected you!" The sorceress screams in rage. "I created you! You belong to me!"
She casts a spell, sending Letho flying to the edge of the square. Her mercenaries close in on Ilma, swords in their hands. Ilma pulls out her steel sword and with ease, cuts down two of the mercenaries. Letho joins her in the fight and together the remaining mercenaries are no match for them. The sorceress opens a portal and disappears into it. Without hesitation, Ilma jumps after her. She falls into darkness, landing harshly on cold ground.
"Fucking portals…" She says as Letho lands next to her.
"I thought cats always landed on their feet." He says.
"Very funny." She says and dusts herself off. "Come, I can hear her running!"
Footsteps echo in the cave and the witchers waste no time in following them. They catch a glimpse of the sorceress jumping into another portal. The portal explodes before the witchers can jump in.
"Dammit!" Ilma kicks a rock in frustration.
"What now?" Letho asks.
"I don't know. I have not even the slightest clue where she could have gone… I don't even know where we are."
"I hope this wasn't some trap." Letho says and looks around. "We should find a way out."
They wander in the cave, searching for the exit. In the distance they hear nekkers attacking a group of men. The witchers pull out their steel swords and sneak closer towards the fighting, their footsteps being so quiet they barely make a sound. The corridor finally leads to a balcony overlooking a big open area. A group of elves are desperately battling a bigger group of nekkers. The witchers jump down to help the elves. A few nekkers are not a problem for seasoned witchers, but as the creatures kept pouring in Ilma and Letho had their hands full.
"How many can there be?" The witcheress yells. "I've never seen this many nekkers before."
Ilma screams as she raises her sword above her head and cuts down a nekker running towards her. Finally, all the nekkers are dead. Panting, she sheaths her sword and turns to the elves, they look around to see only two of them have perished. They thank the witchers for their help, but it is cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps. An elf, wearing a crimson headscarf covering half his face, appears from one of the corridors.
"What a pleasant surprise!" He says and walks towards Letho. "And here I thought I'd have to track you down, you waltz straight into my arms."
"Iorveth… I-" Letho sighs.
"Who are you?" Ilma asks the elf.
"Name's Iorveth, maybe you've heard of me?"
"Uhh…" She looks away into the distance. "Sorry, doesn't ring a bell."
"Have you been living under a rock?" He looks at the witcheress up and down, before turning to Letho. "What are you doing here?"
"Saving your men…" Letho says.
Iorveth looks around to see the corpses of several nekkers laying on the ground, some of them cut so badly their intestines have fallen out. Embarrassed, his men avoid looking at him.
"I suppose I'm to thank you for your help!" Iorveth says, looking at the witchers.
The elf is calm, but his voice does not conceal his anger and hatred.
"No need, just doing our jobs." Letho shrugs.
The elf orders his men out of the cave and walks behind them. The witchers follow. A lush forest surrounds them as they step out of the cave, the birds sing their songs and the light wind gently rustles the leaves. Iorveth walks over to the Scoia'tael camp near the cave and slumps down on a log.
"Why were your men in the cave?" Letho asks the elf.
"None of your business, vatt'ghern."
Letho crosses his arms and stands in front of the elf. Iorveth inhales deeply.
"Those idiots thought there was an old elven palace. Buried after thousands of years, containing vast amounts of gold and other riches. They planned to dig it out."
"Why would the Scoia'tael care about treasures?" Ilma asks, standing beside Letho.
"We need weapons, we need food! Roots and berries won't keep warriors standing for long." He stands and paces back and forth. "Ever since Emhyr took the north, he's been hunting us down, with success. It won't be long till I end up hanging too…"
"So, you've practically given up then?" Letho says.
"I won't just roll over and die!" Iorveth says. He pauses to calm down. "There is only one thing left to do and if I'm to be completely honest, I could use some help."
"What is it?" Ilma asks.
"Hold on! Why would you want our help?" Letho says.
"Well, you have experience on these sort of matters…" The elf says. "I'm going to kill the emperor!"
"…Of Nilfgaard?" Ilma asks.
Ilma and Letho exchange confused looks.
"Have you gone absolutely mad!" Letho says.
"Maybe he ate the wrong type of mushrooms?" Ilma says.
"Laugh at me all you want, but I'm doing this. Even if it's the last thing I'll do…" Iorveth looks up to the sky. "I don't have a choice."
"Well… Getting rid of the emperor would definitely benefit all of us." Ilma says.
"You're not considering joining the elf. It's suicide." Letho says.
"I'm tired of running. Nilfgaard is after both of our asses and finding Sabra would be a lot easier if we don't need to look behind our backs constantly." She says.
"Fine, we'll help." Letho says defeated. "What's your plan?"
A sly smile appears on Iorveth's face and the elf motions the witchers to follow him. He leads them to a table and lays out a very detailed map of the Nilfgaardian capital. Letho and Ilma stand on both sides of the elf and study the map.
"Where the hell did you get that?" Ilma asks.
"I've been working with the opposition. One of them gave me this." Iorveth says.
"Wasn't everybody involved with the opposition killed when Nilfgaard won the war?" Letho asks.
"The emperor has more enemies than shit has flies around it." Iorveth turns back to his map. "Now, this sewer entrance is unguarded and it goes under the palace. Whoever goes in would come out in the emperor's private bathhouse and would have to make their way to this corridor and exit here to the garden."
Iorveth explains the rest of the plan as Letho and Ilma listen carefully. After Iorveth has explained his plan, he leans against the table and closes his eyes, enjoying the light breeze on his skin as the witchers argue over who should be the one to enter the palace. They finally settle after a round of rock-paper-scissors, that Ilma is the one to go in. Iorveth and his unit and Letho will hide around the city, and in case the witcheress gets spotted, they'll be ready to help. The trio shake hands and the plan is to be set in motion as soon the next day.
"How long does it take to ride to the capital?" Ilma asks.
Iorveth slumps down next to a fire and the witchers follow suit.
"Half a day, if we don't stop." The elf says while poking the fire.
Ilma turns to Letho and lowers her voice.
"The cave… Do you think it was a trap set by the Sabra? She guessed I'd follow her through the portal and get killed by the nekkers."
"Sounds like her." Letho says.
"Who are you talking about?" Iorveth lifts his gaze from the fire.
"It's a… I'm hunted by a sorceress. Been on the run since I became a witcher." Ilma sighs.
"Well, this sounds like a good story." The elf says.
Ilma chuckles. She tells how the sorceress, Sabra, conducted cruel experiments on young girls at Kaer Coram, the school of the cat. Her goal was to create the first female witcher, the ultimate assassin in her mind. Sabra finally succeeded one day and Ilma became the first female witcher, but she didn't want to be an assassin or anybody else to go through what she had, so she burnt down the lab and escaped.
"So… after a while, she hired Letho to hunt me down." Ilma says.
"Yeah, I tracked you down in… Where was it again? Hengfors?" Letho looks at Ilma.
"Yeah, just outside Hengfors. Was one my way as far north as I could get." She smiles.
"You put up a real tough fight. Thought it would have been an easy job." He chuckles. "I mean, a girl that size… But you were fierce, almost cut off Serrit's ear. And Auckes… Oh boy… "
Both witchers burst out laughing. Iorveth pulls out a bottle of mead and takes a long sip as the witchers are still laughing. Ilma asks about Serrit and Auckes and an awkward silence falls upon them. The laughter has stopped.
"They're dead… because of me." Letho says quietly.
"I-But… How?" She asks.
"It's a long story… I can't go into it now."
Letho looks Ilma straight into the eyes. A tear rolls down her cheek and he swipes it away with his thumb. He pulls her in closer and wraps his arms around her.
"I'm so sorry…" He whispers.
"Well… That was an… Emotional." Iorveth says and clears his throat.
Ilma pulls away from Letho, maintaining eye contact. She clears her throat as she turns away. Iorveth pulls a bottle of mead and the trio drink around the fire, telling stories of their past adventures. The elf is the first to pass out, Ilma and Letho laugh at the elf's loud snoring. Ilma nudges the elf and he turns to sleep on his side. After a while, Ilma drifts to sleep.
The witcheress flutters her eyes open. She looks around, the elves are busy packing everything up, Iorveth is bent over his map and Letho is sitting on a rock, sharpening his swords.
"We'll be leaving soon." Letho says. "The elves have been running around like headless chickens all morning."
"Is Iorveth going to provide us with horses or are we walking?" Ilma asks.
"Went out earlier…"
Letho puts away his things and jumps off the rock. He motions Ilma to follow him and leads her to the edge of the camp. Two wild horses, a black stallion and a gray mare, are tied to a tree.
"…And got us these."
"I'll take the stallion!" Ilma says and goes over to the horse and gently strokes its neck.
"What are you going to name it?" Letho asks.
"Kaspar. He looks like a 'Kaspar', doesn't he?" She smiles back at Letho. "What about yours?"
Ilma nods towards the mare next to Kaspar. Letho looks at the horse, his gaze shifts to the ground as he thinks for a name.
"I was thinking… Sirei."
"Is there a story behind that name?"
"Yeah, but that's for another time."
"It's time to go!" Iorveth shouts from the camp.
Letho and Ilma saddle up their horses and ride with the elves towards the capital. They arrive earlier than they expected, having had no trouble on their way. The group stops in a wooded area on the outskirts of the city. Two of the elves are going to stay behind and look after the horses and supplies. Iorveth wishes Ilma good luck and waits for Letho as the witcher pulls Ilma into a hug.
"Be safe, kid." He says.
"You know me." She smiles. "I can do this."
Ilma runs off to find the sewer entrance. She pushes the iron gate open and covers her mouth and nose with her arm as she steps in. The stench of rot and shit is strong, but she pushes forward. Two drowners are feasting on a dead body and they notice the witcheress approaching. Ilma sets the other one on fire with igni and it flails its arms around, screaming. She turns and cuts the other one's head clean off and then stabs the one on fire, ending its suffering. After what seemed like too long, she locates the bathhouse. She creeps in and makes her way to the exit. Two women are loudly gossiping about a man, their voices echoing in the otherwise silent bathhouse. The witcheress rounds the corner and opens the door to the outside. The air feels fresh and light again, flowers are in full bloom and the sweet smell is a welcome change to the stench in the sewers. Ilma, however doesn't get to enjoy the moment for long, as the palace guards had been waiting for her. She stretches her neck and knocks the guards down with aard. A fight ensues, the young witcheress fights back hard, butchering many of the guards. More keep pouring in and she struggles to fight them all, eventually the guards manage to overpower her and capture her alive. They tie her hands behind her back and escort her outside, to the front of the palace.
The corpses of Iorveth's men lie on the streets, covered in blood. Ilma watches in despair as a handful of the elves are being hanged. The guards escort her on to a platform. Iorveth is already standing on the platform. Ilma is placed next to the elf and a noose is placed around her neck. Side by side, the elf and the witcheress await for their deaths. She turns to look at the elf, he is calm, even his breath is steady and relaxed. He holds his chin up, like he is proud to die for his cause. She turns to face the crowd who are wildly cheering. A rotten tomato flies through the air and hits Iorveth in the chest. More produce start flying towards the two, Ilma is hit in the face with a potato. Enraged, she gathers all her strength and breaks the rope binding her hands. Her eyes change color from amber to red and in a blink of an eye, she removes the noose from her neck and grabs a nearby guard. She takes his sword and puts the noose around the guard's neck. She cuts down Iorveth and kicks the lever, opening the hatch under the guard, hanging him. The crowd panics and chaos ensues as the civilians try to flee. Ilma cuts the rope binding Iorveth. They stand together on the platform, with guards surrounding them. Ilma pulls Iorveth close to her and kisses him. The elf resists at first, but gives in. The guards advance towards the two, readying their swords for a strike. One of them is just about to cut of the elf's head, when a magic barrier blocks it. The guards pound on the bubble surrounding Ilma and Iorveth, but they cannot penetrate it.
"You can continue when we've gotten out of here!" Letho shouts as he rides Sirei through a line of guards.
The elf and the witcheress pull apart from each other. The shield explodes, knocking any nearby guard off their feet. Letho throws Iorveth a sword and he and Ilma join the fight.
"We need to finish what we came to do!" Ilma shouts.
Together they push their way into the palace, slaughtering anybody that comes in their way. At the end of a corridor a lone guard stands in front of a door. Letho kicks him in the chest and the guard crashes through a door. Inside, the emperor jumps from his chair. The guard crawls on the floor towards the emperor, extending his hand towards him. Ilma thrusts her sword into the guard's back. The emperor composes himself, returning his expression to normal.
"Well then, I suppose this is it... Get it over with!" He says proudly.
Ilma nods at Iorveth. He raises his bow and shoots Emhyr in the right shoulder, pinning him on the wall behind him. He shoots again, this time hitting the left shoulder. The emperor stays silent as Iorveth draws for the third time. He takes his time aiming, finally shooting the emperor in the right eye, ending his suffering. The trio turn to walk out of the palace, leaving Nilfgaard without an emperor.