Even the rain in this land smells like piss!
A lonely inn in the swamps of Velen, the No Man's Land is where we find Geralt, the legendary witcher. After he turned in the head of some water hag he hunted, the White Wolf drank peacefully at a table in the inn before he would leave for parts unknown, always poor, always hunting. Nobody was there for him, with him… Ciri was in Nilfgaard, learning how to become an Empress, Yennefer left him and decided to go with Triss to Kovir to establish there a new Lodge of Sorceresses with the others… He was alone, with only the hunt, the coin and the drink after to keep his soul alive.
"Ploughing bastards! All of them! Reaping a man's hard work and giving it to fat lords and ladies! Fuck them!" Geralt watched silently as one of the drunkards from the inn had an outburst. He was drunk, but he was right. Temeria was a vassal of Nilfgaard and in order to rebuild everything the Black Ones destroyed, the Temerians took every resource, craftsman and specialist to Vizima or Maribor to rebuild the cities and their infrastructure and start a slow process of industrialization. Even though Geralt felt sorry for the peasants, he knew that sacrifices were to be made if the Silver Lilies were to bloom healthy and prosperously. He agreed with the new ruling council of the country, with Vernon Roche as the Governor, Thaler (who is currently using his real name of Bernard Dukat) as the spymaster and a young sorceress named Melanie Henry as the advisor. Melanie's election was weird because the position formerly held by Triss Merigold was desired by far more powerful sorceresses, but Vernon Roche considered that a young and not-so-prone to schemes and treachery lady should be on the council with Melanie proving herself to be intelligent, driven and really wanting to do good for the people of Temeria. Roche even proposed to name Geralt leader of the newly reestablished Blue Stripes, but the witcher hates everything related to politics and decided to continue his life on the road.
The drunken man calmed down and rain started to pour outside. The evening got chillier and Geralt decided to remain for the night.
"Excuse me, but it's raining outside. I want a room, for the night!" The witcher decided to be as polite as possible, not wanting another bloodbath as the one from the White Orchard inn.
"Yes, master witcher. It's the room upstairs, third door from the right. But please, be careful not to run into some unlikable sort. They don't like strangers!"
"Yeah, especially witchers." The innkeeper nodded and the White Wolf went upstairs, entering his room and, while sitting on his bed, started to ponder… He listened as the drunkards from below argued because of this and that, oblivious about the bigger problems of the world. Peasants were never happy, no matter who ruled them, either Nilfgaard or Temeria. But Geralt understood them, they were afraid, plagued by disease, monsters and invading armies, but the worst of them, they were plagued by fear. Geralt decided to sleep for a bit, to rest after a tough hunt.
Next morning, it was still raining. Geralt put his armor on and descended the stairs.
"Good morrow, witcher!" The innkeeper greeted him.
"Good morrow to you too."
"Tell me, master witcher, are you an important man?" This weird question made Geralt suspicious.
"Why, is there a bounty for my head and you decided to cash it in? Good luck on that!" The innkeeper laughed.
"No, sir! But a rider in the night arrived here from Vizima. You are summoned there! Here, a letter for you!" The last time he was summoned to Vizima by someone, the Emperor of Nilfgaard employed him to find Ciri. This time, there were no Nilfgaardians there, only his old friends.
"Thank you, my good man. I will ride there at once!"
"But it's raining like hell outside. You will catch a cold in this ploughing rain!"
"Not to worry! Thank you! Here's your payment!" Geralt handed the innkeeper a few orens (as they returned as the coin of Temeria) and left with his horse, Roach, riding towards Vizima.
Two days later, Geralt arrived in Vizima, riding to the Royal Palace. The last time he was there, the sun of Nilfgaard was everywhere. Now, the Silver Lilies are back where they belong. Even though Temeria is a vassal of Nilfgaard, they are quite independent so, as long as they don't try something against the empire and pay their taxes, which were very reasonable, now that Ciri was Empress, the Temerians can pretty much do whatever they want. The White Wolf was happy that Temeria still exists. However, Geralt's walk was interrupted by a voice that the witcher knew very well:
"Geralt of ploughing Rivia! So good to see you!"
"Thaler. You look good too!"
"Not Thaler, at least not in front of strangers! Now I'm Bernard! Bloody guards don't need to know that I'm fucking Thaler!"
"I'm sure they have their suspicions if they hear you swear like this. So, did you summon me to Vizima?"
"Not only me, but Roach and Henry too. It seems we found something important and we need you to investigate. Go and rest, Geralt. We will talk more after. Tell me… do you need some pure fucking Temerian girls to plough?"
"No, not now, thanks!"
"Well, if you refuse girls, there are some manwhores too at the Happy Rooster… if you want some…" Thaler started to laugh but Geralt was not impressed.
"Thanks, but no… Please, I want to rest."
"Fine, suit yourself. Gregory! Escort the witcher to his room!"
"Yes, Lord Dukat!" A young man, clad in armor, showed Geralt the way to his room. The room's beauty impressed even Geralt, who doesn't care very much about luxury.
Hmm, much better than the inn. And smells better.
Finally, he will sleep in a good bed, after many months of resting in barns, filthy inns and even sewers. However, Geralt couldn't help but wonder why he was called back here?