A/n: This isn't my first attempt at writing, but it is the first time anyone other than myself has read what I wrote. (Not counting my Muse who had to approve this before posting) I make absolutely NO claim to any part of The Witcher world. That world is the creation of the wonderful author, Andrzej Sapkowski.

Being a fan of the video game and the books, I found myself wanting more of Geralt's adventures. My Muse said the same and promptly pushed me to write something. After a few false starts, I was finally able to form an idea in my head. That idea was put into the story to follow.

For any not already familiar with The Witcher, Geralt, Dandelion or the rest, I envy the world waiting for your discovery in the works by Mr. Sapkowski. The originals are in polish, but the first two books have been translated to English. They are really great reads and I HIGHLY recommend them.

To those who are familiar, I hope you find my rendition of the characters to your liking.

In either case, I hope you enjoy!

Prologue

A Meeting at the Inn

The young gentleman strolled into the tavern, stopping just inside so his eyes could adjust to the gloom. While he waited those few seconds, he put the finishing touches on the perfection of his colorful clothing. He had an image to maintain and it wouldn't do for ladies to see him disheveled. Even with the color, his clothing was very tasteful. He tugged and straightened his cuff ruffles and neck scarf. Reaching up, he tilted his small hat, so it sat just right on his brown locks. Then, while brushing some unseen lint off the front of his coat, he glanced around the common room. Finally, Dandelion spotted his quarry.

Walking boldly up to the table, he dropped onto the stool opposite a brooding, white haired man dressed in dark leather. Signaling to the barmaid, he leaned casually against the nearby wall and grinned at the fellow.

The man's shockingly light eyes narrowed at Dandelion. Those eyes were gold flecked, with pupils that seemed cat-like but otherworldly. "You're later than expected," he remarked.

Dandelion's grin broadened. "It wasn't my fault, really," he explained. "The young lady just has no sense of responsibility."

"I see." He didn't sound very convinced.

"I told her I had a meeting to get to but she would have none of it."

"I am sure," the man paused and shook his head slightly, a wry smirk on his face. "That you tried very hard to convince her too."

Dandelion's grin dropped to be replaced with mock indignation. "Geralt, that hurts." Turning to the barmaid who had just reached their table, his face brightened. "A glass of Toussaint Red, my Sweet, and," he glanced at Geralt's nearly empty glass, "another of whatever my friend is drinking."

Geralt lifted his glass in a small toast to his partner, "Thank you. Your detained arrival is forgiven." He put some small emphasis on detained.

"Geralt, my friend," Dandelion chuckled. "You are just too easily bought."

"Let us hope you are one of the few to ever learn of that."

Geralt shifted a bit to get comfortable, his leathers creaking quietly.

Dandelion knew that Geralt's look, the cat like eyes, the long white hair, the lean and muscular body, stemmed from what he was. Geralt was a witcher, a monster slayer. Potions, spells and intense training made a witcher capable of killing the many beasts that prowled in and out of any number of cities and towns. Witchers were seldom, if ever, welcomed but people and places paid good money for the services Geralt and his like provided. If monsters threatened your town or loved ones, a witcher was who you turned to and you had better be ready to pay. Payment was not always in the form of coin, however, but it was preferred.

Dandelion eyed the hallmark of a witcher, two sword hilts rising at angles above each of Geralt's shoulders. "You know, of all the years I have known you, I don't believe I have ever seen you without those."

"You never will, either," Geralt replied.

"Oh?" he asked, his curiosity peaked. "Why not?"

"You aren't my type," he said with a slight smile on his face.

Dandelion's laugh carried across the common room.

As they spent the rest of the evening drinking and talking, their camaraderie was apparent to any who observed them.