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Vandal undid the straps of his breastplate and slipped it free from his body. When he moved to undo the links keeping the chainmail taut over his arms and middle, the ladies of the house stepped in to help him rid himself of the armor. They giggled as they pulled the heavy mail off and let it fall to the floor, "Rest easy, sir knight. We'll handle everything."

Their wandering hands showed experience in the matter, having both the innate skill of disarming men and bewitching them into little more than docile sheep, attributes that could usually be found in sorceresses and succubi. Vandal stood mutely as a lamb before its shearers, so trusting and so naïve. Growing up, he'd never experienced the intimate side of the opposite sex as there were no opportunities left to be had. With half the population on his world claimed by the White Frost, and a third of the other half to the curse of undeath, the dwindling number of survivors mainly prioritized their self preservation. If there were any women left among them in Saggrel, Vandal never had the chance to meet any of them.

Even so, he had some semblance of an idea about what was about to happen. As the women stripped him bare, Vandal averted his gaze and stared into the floor shyly. The steam from the huge tub next to the fireplace chased away the chill in the air, though neither of the three seemed to mind the cold. There was plenty of heat to go around, and it showed in the appreciative expressions they wore.

"My my, what have you been hiding down there?" Sandy purred as she pressed close to the blushing knight. Her delicate hands touched his nether region, making his nose flare as his breath hitched. "Come now, don't tell me you've never been touched down there before." Vandal stared at her helplessly, giving the blonde all the answers she needed. The woman handled his member with care as she endeavored to make his first experience the best he could ever have.

"Oh, then I guess it's your lucky night, Sir Vandal." Serah whispered, tucking her fingers under the thin threads that held her dress in place and letting them fall slack over her shoulders. With a gentle sway of her slender body, she slipped free, stepping over the pile it made on the floor with two dainty skips. She put one arm over Vandal's broad shoulders and leaned on him, letting him gawk in astonishment at her impressive form.

Her breasts were large and perfectly shaped, her waist was slender with a wide curve of the hips to complement it. Her left thigh had a rose with black petals and a golden thorned stem that twirled in beautiful little curls as it encircled the thick girth of her thigh. But out of all of that, Vandal appreciated her face the most. It was always the face for him, with those spotless and full cheeks, the come-hither look she had in her green eyes. Vandal smiled nervously, and he leaned in to kiss those inviting lips.

Serah found the taste of him to her liking, as his kiss was not of a conqueror's but of a lover's. He didn't demand anything of her as other men would have done, with their brutish, slobbering and bruising mash of hairy lips. Vandal's kiss was testing, soft and gentle as a feather. The raven-haired woman kept him busy as Sandy likewise did away with her clothing, soon after pulling them both to join her in the bath.

As the water bubbled about between their legs, the women coaxed the man to sit down while they washed the grime and soot from his body. Vandal sighed as the rising heat from the freshly boiled water loosened the tension in his muscles, and he sat up straight to let his lovely companions rub and scrape the dirt with wet rag bundles. He yelped suddenly when a bucketful of hot water was poured on him and drenched him from head to shoulders.

"Oops, guess I should've warned you first." Sandy giggled in embarrassment. She worked her fingers through his hair as a form of apology, spreading sweet-smelling bubbles from the soap into his scalp. Afterwards, she moved to fetch another bucketful from the tub. "Alright, here it comes."

Vandal closed his eyes and let the water wash away the white clouds on his crown, then flipped back the damp hairs covering his face. He felt Serah's eager hands on him again, this time giving his shoulders a good rub. Sandy took this time to get herself washed, putting on a good show for Vandal as she dribbled a handful of water down her back. The blonde was small of frame, but was blessed with a firm ass and well defined breasts. Her smooth alabaster skin was covered with fine sprinkles of light red, and it gleamed in the warm glow of the fire.

Vandal thought she looked like a marble statue, sculpted by a mad genius' careful hands.

"Come here, lie down on me." Serah whispered, taking him into her arms as she pulled him to lean against her breasts. Vandal felt the soft cushion of those gentle mounds brace against his back, sending shivers up and down his spine as skin rubbed slick against skin. The woman hugged him close and folded one hand over his eyes as the other snaked down over his belly, creeping dangerously close to his loins.

Vandal whimpered as she grasped his member.

"Shhh...let me take care of you." She whispered, flicking her tongue against his earlobe. Then, she started to stroke.

Sandy saw what her friend was doing to him, and unwilling to be left out of the fun, she went down on all fours and kissed the young knight. She moaned into his lips as her tongue explored the warm and wet cavern of his mouth. There was beauty in this world. Vandal fumbled around in search for a means to escape the horrors of the world he had left, and he found them in the unlikeliest of places.

They took their time with him, leaving not a single spot untouched as their roaming hands caressed and groped his skin. Later, Serah whispered to both of them after the warmth had left the waters. "Come, let us leave while there is yet warmth in our bones."

Vandal struggled to leave the drunken haze they had dragged him into with their ministrations and climbed out of the tub still dripping with bathwater. He snatched the towel hanging on the chair nearby and dried himself down. As the women stepped out of the waters, Vandal, ever the gentleman, fetched towels on their behalf so they could cover up. Serah and Sandy, appreciating the man's thoughtfulness, were of the same mind as they proceeded with the night's plan.

They led Vandal upstairs into their bedroom, bent on ravishing the knight thoroughly till morning comes.

The bedroom, much like the house itself, was no king's bedchamber but it offered a modest existence. There was a double-bed with a soft cushion covered with clean white sheets and thick warm furs. A dressing table with a cracked mirror nearby stood with a matching chair, holding a single candle to cast its dim light throughout the room.

The ladies did away with their towels and climbed on top of the furs like dune cats on the prowl, looking back at Vandal as they beckoned for him to follow.

"Come, sir knight." They invited, "There's a beast in our loins this night, and we have need of your sword."

Vandal did as they asked and crawled in after them, letting Serah guide him down to lie between them. She practically pounced on him, seizing the knight tightly beneath her legs as she straddled his hips. Sandy reminded her to go gently on the young man since it was to be his first lay with a woman. That reminder was soon forgotten as the two rode the knight as they would a horse, furiously and seemingly without end.

His inexperience did not bother them as much, for his eagerness to please more than made up for his shortcomings. Once the raven-haired vixen had her fill of him, she moved to let her golden-tressed friend have her turn. And when Sandy was done, the insatiable Serah would mount him again. This went on for hours, with both women passing Vandal around like a water-pipe from Zerrikania.

Hour after hour passed, the candle burned itself out and even then, the noise of a squeaking bedframe could be heard through the windows of the second floor. Poor Vandal, exhausted to the point of collapse, had to suffer Serah's claws as her fingers dug deep into his back. The nails left some pretty painful trails wherever they passed, but no amount of pained expressions could stop her from doing so. From head to toe, he was drenched in a heavy sheet of sweat. The heat in his chest returned as he neared his end, with that peculiar glow starting to fill the darkness of the room. It was easy to ignore, as Vandal was completely given over to instinct.

Sandy was already asleep and had her back turned to the pair. Serah's head was turned sidewards and away from her lover, her eyes were tightly shut in the throes of ecstasy, otherwise she would've easily spotted the glow emanating from Vandal's chest. Fortunately, the glow faded as soon as he leaped off the edge. Vandal groaned as he supported himself on shaky elbows, taking a moment to catch his breath before rolling off the woman.

"Have I pleased you, my lady?" Vandal asked quietly as he admired the beautiful wench laying beside him on his left.

Serah smiled and twisted her body to rest her leg over his thigh, offering her tattoo for him to see before sleep took them both. Her fingers danced across his face as she gave him a satisfied look, even in the darkness of the room with nothing but the moonlight to guide him he could see her smile. "The beast hasn't been slain, it slumbers." She scooted over to plant a peck on his cheek, "But I am pleased."


Above the skies of the Continent, a ghostly shadow loomed among the stars.

A heavenly body, long dead and black like the void, defied the rule of the sun as it shared orbit with the larger world. This dead world was Saggrel, and in its final moments it wandered the heavens in a manner shared by the undead that walked its frozen face. Without a core to hold everything together, it was just an orb of ice floating without a tether, and when it felt the pull of gravity it just fell to pieces.

These pieces broke away and hurtled through space, heading for the Continent as they passed through its skies. Their descent was slowed by the conflicting magical properties in the air, and had not gone unnoticed by the people on the world's surface. From every corner of the Continent with every eye that dared to gaze skyward, they saw the great shards of earth, rock and ice plummet into the ocean or hurl some of their stray pieces to scatter across the land. A great part of the seas went up in geysers and a powerful earthquake shook the coastlands leading to the tide pulling back, only to send perilous wave after wave to wash away whole towns and villages.

Ships away at sea were consumed by the waves, and when the mysterious cataclysm died down, new islands had formed at the Great Sea. Alien lands torn from the heart of Saggrel, now stood as rivals to the Continent. The weather turned mad, chaos magic bled into the realm as the winds grew cold with frost and the waters embraced the new arrivals as a thick mist wrapped the islands in thick layers of impenetrable fog.

The shards of earth that landed upon the mainland sown just as much confusion among the terrified masses as the ones that fell into the Great Sea. In their wake, the dead rose up from their graves to feed upon the living. Even before the sun returned to resume its reign in the sky, the land was already beset by terrors on all sides. From the Northlands to Nilfgaard, even until the desert land of Zerrikania, no place was left untouched by the cursed hand of Saggrel.

Many lifetimes ago, the Continent had once feared monsters and called upon powers beyond their control to combat the threat. The Witchers were no longer enough to help them, the people who feared them saw to that. And now, they faced monsters they have never heard or seen before, wielding powers that defied all thought and imagination.

Ruin had come to the Continent, a threat perhaps too great for any kingdom to stand alone.


A slight tremor shook the whole house for but a second, then all was still.

Vandal bolted upright, having gotten neither rest nor sleep the whole night as his cursed heart prevented him from getting either. Thankfully, restless as he was, he did not feel exhaustion nor fatigue as though his burning heart flared with a new flame. He looked to the bright rays of the early morning and reveled in the warmth of the sun streaming through the cracks of the bedroom window.

His eyes fell to the naked and peacefully slumbering forms tangled among the furs, and a proud smile stretched his lips from ear to ear.

Vandal gently set aside Serah's arm from where it lay across his belly and slipped away from the bed. He closed the door behind him quietly as to not disturb the sleeping beauties, and he descended the stairs to pick up his clothes and armor where they lay discarded on the floor next to the fireplace. The embers were still glowing in the hearth when he arrived, and the cold water was still where they'd left it in the tub.

Vandal got dressed, got rid of the water in the tub by dumping it into the sewer grating sitting behind the house, that he found after spending a great deal of time searching. Afterwards, he approached the fireplace and knelt before the embers.

After all he'd seen concerning his affliction, Vandal grew curious about the extent of his capabilities. He recalled the arcane properties of Ashseeker, the blade forged from the coiled sword that burned with the healing fires of the bonfire. He wondered if this was the reason for his increased regenerative nature, and why his heart burned like the smoldering coals on the hearth.

Vandal, out of impulse, drew his dagger and pushed the edge gently against the palm of his hand over the embers. He clenched his jaw tight and drew the blade across his skin, sending a glowing trickle of ichor to bleed from the wound and into the hearth.

The coals hissed as the blood dripped atop of them and caught flame.

Astonished, Vandal picked up a wooden block from the pile of firewood stacked next to the fireplace and added it to the black burning pile within. As the flames cracked and sputtered, catching light and growing into a decent fire, Vandal's smile grew.

"We came to that frozen sanctuary seeking the Vestige of Warmth..." He said as he watched the small wound in his palm flare like a fresh spark and close up. "...and I emerged into this world as one."

Vandal sheathed his dagger and went over to the pantry to fetch something to cook for the generous dames who showed him such a fine time the other night. He found, to his disappointment, that there were next to nothing left in the pantry but a small jar of butter and some cloves of garlic. Unbowed by this discovery, the knight took his purse and fished out a single gold coin so he could purchase something from the market.

Early as it was, the market was not to open until later, but he found that the bakery had just opened shop.

He selected the softest, fluffiest pastries he could find to spoil the ladies and left with some coppers for change, returning quickly to the house with warm breakfast to start the morning. He found Sandy, dressed in a lowcut robe that parted obscenely down the middle to expose the valley between her breasts to the soft skin of her belly, still sleepy as she went downstairs to search for the knight that so quickly vanished from her side.

"Good morning, my lady." Vandal greeted as he closed the door behind him, "Slept well, I hope?"

"I feel as though I am still asleep." She sighed as she pulled up a chair to sit at the table. Her elbows propped her chin as she placed it on top of her palms, her closed fingers bunching up her cheeks as she gazed at him dreamily. "And I am having the most wonderful dream, which I do not wish to end."

Vandal smiled and set the table. When he was done, he took a seat opposite of Sandy and pulled up another chair for Serah to sit on later. "I had the most wonderful night with you, and I am forever grateful for having known the warmth of your bed."

As they ate, Sandy asked. "Will you leave soon?"

Vandal nodded, "Perhaps. I shall join the mercenaries from last night, and if what they say is true, we will begin work immediately."

"Do you have to?"

"I am a knight without a lord to call my own, and I must have something to fight for lest my honor rusts as an unused blade. If I am without purpose, I am useless. If I can find that purpose in killing monsters or hunting down cutthroats to keep people like you safe, then so be it."

"You're so brave, Vandal. But the thought of you being torn apart by those vile creatures scares me."

"The danger is part of the job, my lady." Vandal replied, "You needn't concern yourself with my welfare, for I am of sterner stock."

"Come now, Sandy, don't burden the man with your attachments." Serah chided as she overheard their conversation on the way down. Unlike Sandy, who had the decency to cover herself, the raven-haired woman descended the stairs naked, clearly proud of her endowments and unashamed of flaunting them at every chance she got. Vandal blushed and modestly averted his gaze, smiling nervously as the woman boldly strutted his way. "Well, good morning to you, sir knight."

"Breakfast, my lady?" Vandal offered.

"Still the gentleman, I see." Serah remarked, impressed that the man had not changed his tune.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting wail cut through the serenity of the early morning. Vandal jumped to his feet and immediately headed for the door to investigate. When he emerged into the street and saw the source of the commotion, the knight-errant entered the house with his face aghast and pale as a sheet.

The town was under attack, the streets beyond the house were filled with walking corpses that bore rusted weapons of every kind. The town watchmen had already begun repelling the attack as best as they could, but it looked like they were losing. Looking at them sent nightmarish visions rushing back into Vandal's mind as he recognized what exactly was attacking Amendale.

"Vandal, what's wrong? What is that sound?" Serah gathered the discarded clothing she left on the floor last night and rushed to get dressed.

Vandal could not answer as he refused to acknowledge the truth. The undead of Saggrel had come to this place, he had no idea how, but they were here!

He sprung to action. Vandal quickly gathered his things in the sack, and prepared for the upcoming battle. Spurred on with concern for the safety of the women, he commanded them to lock the windows and bar the door behind him the moment he stepped out. "Stay indoors and make not a sound, no matter what happens. They will not come for you if they think that the house is empty. They will come only for me and those who fight back."

Sandy was still coming to grips, but Serah listened well and did as he asked. "What are you going to do?"

"What a knight is supposed to do." Vandal replied as he shut the door, holding it in place until he heard the satisfying rattle of locking chains and latches being slipped into place. He pushed and shoved against the door a few times to make sure it was sturdy enough to hold, then turned to walk away from the thick of the fight to fetch a proper weapon.

The blacksmith's workshop was close by, just about to open for market day.

The attack had not gone unnoticed by the smiths, and they quickly made their stocks available for the impromptu militia to take advantage of. Vandal slapped a few of his crowns into the waiting hands of the head blacksmith and selected a fine work of steel to replace his weapon while he had yet to reforge the shards collected from its demise.

A flanged mace, the perfect weapon to crush armor and turn flesh within to paste.

He would get to the bottom of how the undead got there later. Right now, he would settle for killing them first.

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