Chapter 1: No luck on the path
A busy night as always at Crippled Laura's. Burly men drooling over the girls. Redanian farmers spending money on the finest women of Novigrad, drunken Skelligers singing along, lustful laughter all around. Except for a dark corner, where the joy dies down. A witcher drinks in silence and stares at his swords on the table next to his coin.
"Hey handsome" said Igrid.
The witcher breaks his brooding and gives her a coy smile.
"So, will you stop drinking or will I have to carry you home again?"
"I'm fine" said the witcher.
"You usually aren't when you're in that disconnected pensive state."
The witcher takes a sip emptying the bottle, "That's twelve."
"This is your twelfth bottle? Man, you're insane, how do you even breathe?"
"Well, you see I am trained."
"Yeah I'm sure you had lots of practice, most of it here actually, let me bring you some water."
Igrid goes to the bar and bends over the counter to grab a bucket of water. A Skelliger slaps her ass and leaves it there. Igrid hides her displeasure and looks at him with an unenthusiastic smile.
"At least buy me a drink first."
"Oy wench, fetch us some mead will'ya?"
"I'll be right back with your mead." Igrid responded as she turned her head and rolled her eyes.
She brings the water to the table only to see that the witcher has fallen asleep. She tries to wake him but to no avail. She grabs the bucket of water and unloads it on him as he jumps up, awake as ever.
"That's really cold Igrid," he says out of breath.
"A little fresh water always helps," she says laughing.
"Well, maybe a hot bath is in order after your refreshing intervention, the usual?".
"You definitely need a bath, but no sex tonight. I'll keep you company though so you don't drown."
"Thank you Igrid, I'll pay you all the same."
Igrid smiled and caressed his cheek "You'll do no such thing, not everything is about coin, witcher."
The rude Skelliger throws an empty bottle, missing Igrid's head by a hair, the glass smashing on the wall, right on the side of the witcher's face.
He approaches them shouting "Where's our ploughing mead you harlot?"
The witcher stands up only to collapse as his head spins. He barely manages to stand back up.
"I would suggest you being a little more polite," said calmly the witcher.
"Mind your own matters freak or I'll part your head from your body," says the Skelliger and grabs her by the arm pulling her towards him.
She grabs a bottle and smashes it on his head. His two comrades try to restrain him but he furiously resists. He headbutts the first breaking his teeth, then bites the ear off the second one and knocks him out with a punch. He draws his axe and turns his attention to Igrid. He swings his axe to her but is met by the witcher's steel sword. The witcher uses Aard knocking the warrior on his back.
"Last chance Skelliger, walk away, your pride isn't worth your life."
The Skelliger smirks with a sardonic grin "That's where you're wrong foreigner."
He charges swinging his axe howling. The witcher swings back at him, missing his neck by a hair, stumbling and falling on the ground again in his drunken stupor while successfully dodging the axe. The Skelliger is now near Igrid, he sees her disgust in her eyes. In a few short seconds his demeanor changes from anger, to confusion to sadness, to desperation. Misty eyed he turns right back to wrath and chops her head off. The tears don't even make it to his cheeks as the witcher parts the Skelliger's head from his body. The witcher heartbroken stares at the limp body of Igrid. He falls on his knees lifelessly and holds Igrid's hand on his forehead, mourning silently her loss. His whole body shivers as the woe creeps up on him. Before he can even shed a tear, the brothels owner Laura points at him and the guards knock him out.
The witcher opens his eyes after hours still in a semi-passed out state and overhear the guards and a group of Skelligers negotiating.
"We will take him back to Skellige to face trial before the Jarl". "You can have the ploughing vagrant, as long as we keep his loot."
"You can have his coin, but his tools are of no use to you."
"We can always sell them."
The young Skelliger frowns, clearly frustrated with the Redanian guards. "We will compensate you for his gear but that's all you're gonna get."
The Redanians think of the offer and nod in agreement.
"Better to not have the mutant, be careful, I heards stories, they are fiendish. Even known to cast spells to control the mind and be freed from their cage."
The Skelliger thanks them for their warning and the two groups part ways.
