White Orchard
Occupied Temeria
No matter who owns these land, tavern's will always be full of local people – farmers eager to drink after working on the field, retired soldiers bragging about their service to the now occupied country, travelers from all corners of the Northern Kingdoms, trader's offering their goods. All their speeches and conversations were deafening for new people, sometimes to the point when they can't hear their own thoughts. Barmaids were working double time just to serve beer to everybody in tavern while cook and his assistants prepared more and more meals. Today, despite the circumstances, everyone were in good mood – They heard the news about Nilfgaardian defeat under Vergen at the hands of the Dragon Slayer, and celebrated this occasion accordingly. "Soon" They said "Niflgaardian's will run, just like after Brenna".
Then, door opened again, and newcomer went in, causing whole tavern to went silent in an instant. Cook saw it and cursed, atmosphere ruined.
The newcomer was tall man with white hear and cat like eyes, wearing black cloak on his shoulders, but his two swords were clearly visible to the crowd. At this uncertain times, having a sword was an absolute necessity, but two were too much. Unless your profession is killing monsters.
Whole room followed the newcomer with distrust while he paid them little attention. He walked to the counter and sat down. Barman looked at him with little anger.
- What to serve?
- Beer. – Newcomer simply replied, and barman started opening new barrel.
- First Nilfgaard, now mutants. – One drunken farmer said to his colleagues. – This world is going in wrong direction I tell you.
- Shut up Mika. – Another farmer said. – You wish for him to hear us?
- He killed a gryphon, remember? – third farmer tried to argue.
- And fucking Blacks paid him to go away – Mika stated. – And here he is, again.
- And what do you expect us to do, throw him out?
- Entire tavern against one?
- No chance mate. – Drunken soldier joined the discussion. – Better to leave it.
- Scared of him Francis? – Farmer teased the soldier.
- Yes. – Soldier answered. – I saw how he fought in La'Vallette castle. – He took large gulp from his bottle. – These swords are not a show off, he will butcher you in seconds.
- No man can fight against fifty people alone. – Mika stated, and soldier grinned to him.
- You said it yourself, he is no man.
Witcher didn't even flinch hearing whole discussion behind him. Not the first time, and certainly not the last. He took large gulp from the mug, and put on the counter.
- Did someone new arrive here? – He asked the barman.
- Depends. – Barman said. – I have a lot of people coming here.
Few coins were put at the counter, which quickly disappeared in barman's pocket. – Who are you looking for?
- Woman with Raven hair, violet eyes. Dresses in black and white.
- There are many Imps passing by, also in black and white.
- She also smells like Lilac and Gooseberries, if it helps.
- Aye, she arrived earlier that day. – Bartender nodded, "finally" remembering. – She told me to await certain white-haired individual. – He grinned, now earning money two times today. – She is in the back, room seven.
- Thank you. – Witcher raised from his chair, and went to the guest rooms, still under watchful eye of the gathered people. One spit in his direction, but missed entirely.
Yennnefer read a book in her hands when witcher quietly opened the door.
- You certainly have odd taste for place to meet. – She said, not turning towards him.
- I missed you too – He grumbled, closing the door. – You came alone?
- Sadly, not. – She closed the book and stood up. – Whole squad wait nearby and observe us.
Geralt walked towards the window, looked directly into the eyes of young Nilfgaardian soldier, surprising him to the point of making him lose his balance. When he closed the window, he heard a sound of body hitting the ground. - Emhyr still doesn't trust you?
- He doesn't trust anyone, but your letter convinced him enough to send me. – Yennefer put some spell on the door, and then faced Geralt. – But straight to the point. Did you find her?
- Kinda.
- Explain.
- I met a man… or whatever he actually is, who claims that he knows where she is.
- And where is She?
- In different world. – He answered, but Yennefer shook her head.
- Geralt, you know that we can't reach her, right? – She said. – Unless you somehow found a way.
- I think I did. And that's why I came here.
Yennefer looked at the Witcher with surprise.
- He said she is in grave danger. – Geralt continued.
- Wild Hunt?
- Something worse, but he didn't specify what exactly. Let's just say that the world's advertisement is not welcoming.
- And you wish to go? Into the unknown?
- If I must. – He shrugged his shoulders.
- What if this is a trap, or some kind of trick?
- Although I don't like him, I know he didn't lie.
- Your "witcher senses" or a lucky guess?
- He was scared Yen. – Geralt stated. – He tried to hide it, but his later actions only confirmed it. Whoever is after Ciri, is terrifying a man, who can stop time.
- Stop…? Nevermind. – Yennefer looked directly into his cat-like eyes. – So that's why you came? To say goodbye?
- Yes.
- How odd. From what I experienced, you always try to leave quietly.
- This time, I want to do it a right way.
- Then you can practice it later, because I am coming with you. – She stated, but Geralt was unmoved.
- No. – He simply said. – If something happens…
- And if something happens to both You and Ciri, while I enjoyed courtesy of the emperor, I would never forgive myself. – She interrupted him. – You know I won't accept "No" as an answer.
- But…
- "But" is also unacceptable.
Geralt sighed, sat on the bed and nodded in agreement. – And what about Emhyr?
- If this is about "his" daughter, He will accept whatever I do. – She said, sitting beside him. – And I also want to finally see Ours. Alive and well.
Smile appeared on Witcher's scarred face. – After all of that, I hope we will…
- …Make a house on the island?
- Away from politics and war.
- Away from plots and schemes. – Yennefer sat beside him and put her head on his arm. – Under a single tree. Only You, Me, and Ciri.
- I like the idea.
- Me too.
- I missed you.
- I missed you too.
'
- Private Arnim! Report about the witcher! – Impera sergeant came to the lying private.
- Sir, I report that… He is one ugly bastard – He saluted from the ground, causing few smirks from the rest of the squad.
- About the witcher AND agent idiot!
- I report that I heard that they spoke about Emperor's heir, but no further details. – Arnim said.
- So they know where she is! – Sergeant clapped his hands with victory. – Excellent work.
- I hereby ask for permission to lay here for few more minutes.
- Permission granted. – Sergeant said. – Corporal Henry, your turn.
- Right away Sir. – older veteran quickly run to the window and wanted to peek inside through the small hole in the wall, but suddenly stopped and started listening.
- What's the matter corporal? – Sergeant approached the tree, but Henry started laughing a bit. – What is going on? What are they doing up there!?
- Mother Nature in action from what I hear. – Henry said with a grin. – One day, you will also understand Sarg.
Unspecified location
He was kidnapped very often, once they captured him twice. But no one ever snatched in the middle of the street, in the bright daylight!
Stay calm Dandelion. He thought to himself. Wait for their demands and promise anything they wish. That usually works.
From what he felt, his kidnappers were in a hurry, and after hours of fast horse travel, Dandelion's back ached like crazy. What for this time? Vengeful rich lord, whose daughter he… met? Angered leader of yet another mercenary company? Are they sent because of his tax evasion?
Mere thought about the latter made his face pale.
- We got him Ataman. – He heard a voice through the sack. Moment of truth.
- Take it out of him. – He heard their "ataman" – I want him to talk freely.
When that stinky sack was finally taken off, he breathed a fresh air and used this moment to look around. But, as he expected. – dark basement with goons on each side.
- Eyes on me. – He heard from the front, and turned towards the young man with large scar across the face, probably earned from a duel, single crimson oseledets and short mustache of the same colour. He wore blue zhupan with red split-sleeve overcoat called "kontusz".
Clearly a noble, great.
- Noble Sire, if your daughter is truly hurt because of my behavior I assure you, I never intended to break her heart that…
- What the fuck? – Olgierd looked at him with surprised while his band started laughing.
- Oh, not that? – Dandelion said, and not giving him a chance he continued. – I will do everything to repay for my actions against your honor…
- The fuck? No… - Olgierd wanted to say, but Dandelion kept going.
- I promise, I would never sold anything of such personal value…
- Shut up… - Olgierd ordered, while whole room laughed even harder.
- His majesty is the only…
- Enough! – He yelled, shutting Dandelion up while his comrades cried in laughter. – I didn't take you here because you stole something or banged "my" daughter! I don't even have a daughter, just for you to know.
Dandelion looked around, and asked quietly – Then… Are you tax collectors? – he said, his face pale.
Hearing this, whole room spit collectively on the ground.
- Do not associate me with those barbarians. – Olgierd put his feet on the table. – We are decent people here.
- Decent enough to give me a one-way ride?
- Exactly.
- Then, who are you and what do you want for me? I will do anything.
- Nothing special, really. – Olgierd put his feet back on the ground and relaxed on his chair. – I just want to know something about your certain friend.
- Which one? I have many all across the North, you should be more specific.
- Then answer few of my questions about Geralt of Rivia, and you are free to go.
Dandelion looked at him with shock, but then looked sideways.
- I don't know about who are you talking about.
- Don't try to deny it, we already know that fact about you. You are his friend, and know him better than anyone else.
- Even if I somehow knew him, why would gossip about him to the bunch off… bandits!
- Bandits? We are no bandits, are we? – He looked at his group, armed to the teeth with sabers and axes, bearing numerous scars from their raids and fights.
- Yeaahh, I see. You are very friendly company. – Dandelion also looked at the group, and then looked back at Olgierd. – Friendly enough that I won't tell you anything, which will put him in danger.
- So you know him. – Olgierd pointed out, and Dandelion cursed under his nose. – We don't want anything bad! Quite the opposite actually.
- Oh yeah, what exactly?
- You see, Geralt of Rivia got himself into very big trouble. Not because of me! – He denied after seeing bard's accusatory look. – It is because of someone dear to him. Daughter, I presume?
- Ciri? – Bard asked. – How do you know?
- Because he made me his companion in mission to save her. – He answered. – Very dangerous one, just to add.
- And you want to save yourself by trading in my life?
- Hell no! I want to raise our chances of survival. – He leaned towards him. – You traveled a lot with him, meet a lot of people, powerful and strong. But, most importantly, you gained a lot off favors.
Dandelion pondered about those words while Olgierd patiently waited for the bard's answer.
- Tell me everything. – Dandelion demanded. – With every detail. Then, I maybe consider your words, but lie or miss important detail, and I will keep my mouth shut for the rest of this… "meeting."
- Not a bad perspective. – Olgierd said. – But we are running low on time, so I will make this quick. Understood? Good. So, It all started…
Kislev, Wyjchera
- Begin! – Kislevite "referee" yelled to them, starting their duel.
Kazimierz and Ciri circled around one another, trying to predict other's opening strike and carefully analyzing other's movements. Kazimierz quickly deduced her stance – flexible and swift, ideal for quick attacks and swordsmanship, while his well more rounded, allowed more powerful strikes at the cost of less speed.
He jumped the distance between them in one move, struck low while being mid-air, landed near her, she parried, moved back and struck high, aiming for his arm. Duelist dodged, parried next attack and pressed his own. Like a bear, he approached slowly, attacked with might, wanting to tire her, but she, like a panther, always two steps ahead, avoiding his strongest swings, counterattacking whenever possible.
- Yeah! You are doing great! – Witold cheered while the crowd watched the duel with growing astonishment.
She struck like a lightning, low, high, seemingly everywhere. Kazimierz couldn't believe his eyes, but knew he cannot lose his initiative. He faked attack at her abdomen, aiming for her leg instead. She parried that, and in single move her blade nearly met his face, he blocked the strike, weapons loudly clashed.
- You fight like an elf. – He said to her.
- Hit and run?
- Fast and deadly.
If he was playing around before, he stopped now. His strikes became even faster, attacking her legs, arms and head within seconds, seemingly overwhelming his adversary, forcing her into defense. But he continued his advance with caution, since she counterattacked whenever possible, and her attacks were always dangerous. Soon, he realized that she started to match his speed.
Crowd watched the fight in silent shock. Both combatants swords became impossible to track, leaving only trail of steel and sparks after each hit. They all knew Kazimierz for his long service and near-legendary swordsmanship. For them, he was a man, who outdueled Druchii witches, forced Northman champion to the standoff, and cut off heads of three orcs with one swing, fulfilling the oath he made years ago. Ciri surviving that long would be impressive, but, by Ursun, she started to turn the fight around.
Kazimierz struck faster and faster, always on the offense because he knew that if he stop, even for one moment, no, breath even, she will take control. His strikes started to become less and less precise, desperate even, but he couldn't deal a finishing blow. At one moment, he finally understood. – He never had control.
Her stance, her parries, her counterattacks – all led to this moment. He performed strikes, made the stance SHE wanted him to make. Too late he caught the trick he successfully performed on his many foes.
Seven strikes left until he find himself in the point of no return.
Four left, he needs to do something!
He took defensive stand, hoping, counting on that maybe, maybe she will do a mistake he will exploit and win. But there was no use, he already knew that he lost, and quickly reflected the entire fight, looking for the moment he made a mistake.
Although he fell for her trap, he didn't make a mistake during the fight, his strikes were, as always, very well. He just… couldn't win. Couldn't deal a finishing blow.
Flash of steel right before his eyes, a miss? No, he felt salty taste in his mouth. He checked his nose, it was here, small cut, not even painful, but blood was there.
- First blood…- Referee stated in shock, and entire crowd felt silent, comprehending what just happened.
- By Ursun… - Kazimierz muttered, not sure what to say or do.
'
Little drop of salt here… Changeling emptied a vial. Sacrificial blood of tortured human. He dumped a small bottle full of blood. He looked at his circle with satisfaction And now, the prayer.
He started his speech in language forgotten by even the elves, and blood on the altar raised to the air. For few minutes, the portal to the real space remained while Changeling continued his chants far away from the village, since he couldn't even allow small risk of being discovered. Soon, the portal glowed purple, and hideous being emerged.
Having attributes of both man and woman, with hands as delicate as silk, yet sharp as steel, herald of Slannesh gladly answered the call of Dark Prince's follower. It already thought about the ways of spreading corruption through lands of the bear, and how she will achieve limitless attention from his Master, after she make Kislev scream in pleasure or agony. Or both at the same time.
- I, Herynnannien, Handmaiden of the Dark Prince, accept your gift, acolyte. Raise now, we have much to do.
- Oh yes, we have much to do. – Human looked at her, grinning unnaturally, and said something forgotten, which made daemon shiver. He blinked few times, comprehending what just happened.
- Stand straight. – "Acolyte" demanded, and herald stood like imperial soldiers during the inspection. – Slap yourself. – He ordered, and her hand struck her own, beautiful face, to the acolyte laughter. – Never gets old.
- What have you… - Herald wanted to ask, but simple gesture shut him up.
- Did I allowed you to speak? – He said, and thought on it. – Actually, I never forbade you from speaking. – Shapeshifter shrugged his borrowed arms. – Oh well, since you ask nicely. – That is your true name.
- How…?
- Do not overstep this privilege please. – Changeling said again. – I know a lot of names, that's why many daemons avoid me entirely. But that's fine, I always preferred humans. But enough chitty-chat, I have task just for you.
- And you will let me go? – Daemon pleaded
- Hmmmmm… Maybe? Or maybe not? Depends how dutifully will you perform your part.
- What do you wish then, master?
- Nothing special really. I want you to kill a certain female.
- That's it? – Daemon looked at his captor with surprise. – Single human?
- Yep.
- No catch?
- She is surrounded by humans, but what you kill is yours.
Daemon's eyes shined, and unnaturally wide mouth showed all its shark teeth. – Very well, I…
- Tsk,tsk,tsk. – Changeling hushed the daemon, keeping it in place. – You need a disguise first.
- For what?
- For fun! And because your true appearance might spoil it.
- I can't shapeshift, not in those lands, I need a…
- A host? – Changeling pointed right after his foot. – Here it is.
Herynnannien took a good look, and horrified expression soon followed the realization.
- Please, no…
- Sorry darling. – Changeling's form smiled like a maniac. – But you must make yourself a new home. Don't worry, it will hurt. A lot.
His hands glowed, and daemon's screaming essence was channeled towards the thing laying on the ground. After deed was done, Daemon of Tzeentch looked towards the place, where Wyjchera lies. Despite the distance, he felt their lives, their tasty souls, certain events taking place.
- Let the experiment begin. – He said, and jumped into the air, shapeshifting mid-air. Soon after, one finger of the laying block of ice and stone twitched.
Norsca
- My jarl. – Norscan champion walked into the tent. – Enemy host in sight.
Strybjorn raised from his throne made of bones and metal, walked towards the exit and went outside to see the enemy warband himself.
- More than my scouts reported.
- Scouts said that many tribes opposing us joined his ranks. – Knight-Ripper pointed out. – But they weren't specific.
- It looks like twice the size of what we previously thought. – Another champion added.
- Good. – Strybjorn grinned under his helmet. – More for the bloodletting. Sung the prayers, prepare the sacrifices. Battle will soon be upon us, and we should draw the gaze of the Hound here.
- At once, my Jarl. – Messenger run into the bulk of now forming up Skealings and their thralls. Today is the day many craved for. Today, many will seek and try to claim their glory. Today, many skulls and blood will be added to Khorne's domain, while Slannesh will weave a song out of the screams of pain and suffering.
But unlike his horde, Strybjorn wasn't exactly excited about killing his foes. At least, not the same way like years ago. For him, this bloody day will mean a start of the new chapter of his life. Today is just the beginning of something greater.
Prayers to both Gods flew into the air like wildfire, each promising glory, honor, death, worship and destruction. Thousands upon thousands of warriors sung a song of slaughter, hoping to attract their God, while Snake's warhost sung hosannas to their Most Beautiful Prince. Those, who serve the Hound's will for decades knew that, although Khorne didn't looked at them yet, he already listen, his minions watch carefully, and soon…
- She will demand their suffering. – Prince grinned, looking at the gathered Skealing host. There were many, yes, but his own warband only grew, even now, with numerous warriors gathered from the far North itself, coming to answer call of the Slayer, not only followers of the Dark Prince, also bringing forth many beasts of war. His Lord will be pleased, when this part of Norsca finally bow before the Three-Eyed king.
- Snake may demand whatever she wants. – Warrior in heavy chaos armor, bearing skulls of the bested foes, towered over the prince, took great look at the center of Skealing force, and pointed his sword at it. – But He is mine.
- Of course! I would never come between Challenger and his foe. But remember…
- Snake will get a beating heart. – Red-haired warrior reassured. – Just like Hound will add another skull to the Throne, Eagle will crystalize yet another dying breath and Crow will breed poxes with innards of the fallen.
Wulfrik grinned at the mere thought of the fight before him. After all, Gods sent him here with purpose he do not understand yet, but he was sure that his vision will appear clearer soon enough. But before that, Eternal Challenger looked forward to face the "Butcher of the Immortals" in person.
Tir na Lia
- My king. – Ge'els walked into the room. – All preparations are almost finished.
He stood in the middle of his personal armory covered by black, sturdy from the outside but comfortable from the inside, animal skin, while his staff started putting his armor on him.
At first, they put skeletal like armor on his legs, covering him from front, then linked it with armored plate behind, covering his leg entirely, copying the process on the second leg.
Then, they started putting more armor on his arms and elbows, and then they armored his fists in black steel. The next was torso, on it they put very heavy and thick ribcage like chest plate made from the very sturdy metal, which name they forgot thousands years ago. At last, they put his recognizable helmet with horns on his head, resembling a crown of death itself, and gave him his mask. With smile, he looked at the mask, resembling a skull, and put it on his face. He picked up his sword, Hav'caaren, and swinged it few times.
- Good. – Eredin's distorted voice said. – Let the Hunt begin.
'
- Form up! – Imlerith yelled to the soldiers – To the next ship! Double time!
He watched with proud how his warriors run on the next ship, soon filling it. After short work from the captain, smaller vessel started to make its way to the rest of armada gathered on the open sea near the harbor.
- Isn't it exciting? – He asked Nithral, who stood beside him. – We already have sixty ships! And Naglfar is still docked, which means more will join.
- I am glad you are happy. – Nithral answered, and Imlerith turned his face to him.
- I see your lack excitement disturbing. – Imlerith shook his head.
- Hunt like a hunt. – Nithral shook his shoulders. – Those Dh'oine don't offer anything special.
- That's not how I remember our first meeting. Where is this warrior, who couldn't wait for another challenge?
- They can't pose any challenge to me anymore.
Hearing this, Imlerith scoffed in annoyance, silently wishing to slap him. – I never thought that I will say it, but I hope Dh'oine will prove you otherwise.
- King is coming! – One of the Aen Elle yelled, and Imlerith looked at incoming King of the Hunt.
- Finally. – he said quietly to himself.
Crew of the Naglfar formation split in two, allowing the King and his guards to pass to the ship. They saluted their Lord, some even bowing before him as a sign of respect. When Eredin got close, Imlerth and Nithral bowed their heads as well.
- Imlerith. – Eredin said in his distorted by mask voice. – Report.
- Ship is ready, crew is eager. – Imlerith said. – Only awaiting you, Sire.
Eredin looked at his soldiers, and all turned towards him. He saw brave Elves, with which he fought side by side for years now. He saw many civilians, gathered near the harbor, waving and cheering for their warriors, wishing them luck and spoils. But Eredin's command was heard, despite the loud cheers.
- Set sail. – He said and walked across the ramp, and his crew followed. He looked at Caranthir, who without a word, raised anchors with magic when entire crew were in their positions on the ship.
The mighty ship, pride of Alder Folk, sailed across the clear like crystal water with grace, which human's will never understand or manage to copy. While it sailed past the gates of the harbor, gathered Alder's through flowers on them and waved to them. Soon, Naglfar found itself at the front of the entire armada, transporting thousands of the elven warriors and beasts. Eredin looked at the other ships, on which his warriors stood ready. Almost like the old times, when the gate was still operational.
- Begin. – He ordered, and Caranthir obliged.
Normally, ways between worlds appear periodically, and differ both in size and stability. However, thanks to the experienced and powerful navigators, Aen Elle could pass in small quantities. Stronger the navigator, better the results. And by far, Caranthir was one of the strongest. But even he could use some help from time to time.
Magic flowed around them like a hurricane, other navigators bending it to their will, like a tendril of the ancient Kraken, and sent it directly to Caranthir, multiplying his potential with each tendril reaching him. This allowed the Golden Child to create enormous gateway, but after doing so, he kneeled due to exhaustion. Done wrong by inexperience mage, this ritual could cause severe damage to the caster and gathered people, and even done right, it easily sapped all power from Caranthir's muscles. Yet, the task is done, and glowing portal opened far and wide.
Ships set sail through the portal, ready to teach this new, bountiful world the meaning of fear.
Altdorf
Emperor's palace
- My Emperor, someone wants speak with you. – Chamberlain walked into the Throne room.
There, Prince of the Reikland and current ruler of the Empire of Man, stood with his commanders and advisors near the table, examining the map of the entire realm, discussing the current state of the borders with Sylvania. With one gesture of his hand, whole room went silent.
- Many wants to speak with me, how important this one is?
- He said… - Chamberlain cleared his throat. – "The friend of the Emperor Magnus wants to speak with his friend."
Karl Franz gave a look to his advisors, and with respectful bow they started to leave the vast room. Soon, the guards followed, for if this was truly him, this was rather special occasion.
- Hail the Prince and the Emperor. – Karl smiled, hearing a familiar voice.
- Hail Friend of the Humanity and Friend of the Pious. – He answered, and turned towards the Loremaster Teclis. – How are matters at the Phoenix Court?
- As always, lots of politics and lack of decisions. And how is your empire?
- As always, lots of politics and shady deals behind my back. But you didn't arrive here to share pleasantries, did you?
- Indeed. - Teclis came closer. – I came to both ask and warn you.
- You may ask whatever you want friend. – Karl nodded. – But I presume this warning is about incoming Storm?
- Yes. Even now, I feel Chaos is preparing its next move.
- So, The End Times are truly upon us? Chaos gathers its hordes to crush our world?
- No. – Teclis looked Karl directly into his eyes. – The End Times should start with coronation of the next Everchosen, and with Comet flying through the sky.
- My Astromancers still await it.
- Exactly.
Karl scratched his chin, and the terrifying thought entered his mind.
- Do you want to say that…
- Comet should arrive month ago. – Teclis confirmed his worries.
- But, what does it mean friend? Does Chaos prepares something worse than the end of the world?
- My visions are… blurred. Incomplete. But something is wrong, and the current path is almost broken. That's why I am here.
Karl Franz sighed heavily, the tiredness of the past weeks finally showing itself. - Take a look. – He pointed at the map, and Teclis came closer. On it, he saw all Electoral Provinces with precisely pointed current conflicts and crises.
- As you see. – Karl pointed at Middenheim. – Those vile beast are making their moves, attacking more frequently, and more importantly, they are far more coordinated than ever before. Here. – He pointed at the Sylvania. – Vampires dwell, and although they can't leave that accursed province now, their agents still sow discord in neighboring provinces. Here. – He pointed at provinces of Ostland and Ostemark. – bands of Orcs from the mountains ravage the countryside, and chaotic beasts leave their lairs to pray on undefended villages. And finally. – He pointed at the Ubersreik. – Foul Rat-man made their move, slaughtered local garrison, and are probably are closing on Helmgrat by now, if they didn't already took it. Add to that Marienburg's greedy merchants plotting to crush the economy of the State and Chaos cults filling capitals with their lies. – He shook his head. – I wish to help you, but you must understand that my options are limited.
- I do. – Teclis nodded in agreement. – I only know that something will come from the North, which would at first look almost insignificant, in the grand matter of things, like a swallow on the wind, but, depending on who claims it first, will either save, or doom us.
- Something from the North… The agent of Chaos?
- Not likely. But as I said, I don't know yet.
- Then for what do you ask friend?
- Your Agents, the "Witch-hunters", as you call them. – Teclis put his finger on the map, just at the northern border of the Empire. – How many you have at your disposal?
- Many, but their quality differ. They fulfill many tasks all cross the Empire currently.
- How many you could send to the North?
- Enough to cover major cities, but for exactly what? To look for anything suspicious?
- Exactly.
- Very well. – Karl nodded. – But they will struggle, if they don't know for what they should look.
- Better to have them in place when this happened.
- What will happen? – Karl raised his eyebrows.
- Something, which made the Dark Gods to withheld their plans. – Teclis walked away from the table. – Look for the signs friend, somethings brews inside the Realms as we speak, and soon… – He turned to face Karl one last time before his departure. – It will reveal itself.
Undisclosed location
- …And that's the whole story. – Olgierd ended.
- Unbelievable. – Dandelion muttered.
- Yep, that was…
- Unbelievable that Geralt didn't tell me about it! How could he? – Dandelion scoffed. – I don't understand, he always avoid me while he find himself in trouble.
- I wonder why…
- I will help. – Dandelion stated. – Under one condition.
- Which is? – Olgierd feared the worst.
- You take me with you.
- Of course. – Olgierd sighed heavily. – If I must.
- Great, so, I have two weeks huh? To reach them and return to…?
- Temple of Lilivani.
- Right, so I need a fast horse. Very fast.
- Mila! – Olgierd called his companion across the room. – Give him Lightning.
- Of course, my Ataman. – She said, and grabbed Dandelion's arm – This way peacock.
- You sure this is a right choice Ataman? – One of Olgierd's man whispered while Dandelion left the basement. – Don't you think he will double-cross you?
- He is obnoxious, annoying and probably has shit instead of brain. – Olgierd nodded. – But from what I heard, he is loyal friend to the witcher. And, most importantly, prospect of seeing entirely new world tempts him like a moth. We should be fine.
- Witcher won't be happy with that.
- He may thank me later, after we return.