Geralt
Geralt was sitting across from Vernon Roche at the Seven Cats Inn. "How's the princess doing?"
"Anaïs is doing well. She just turned six."
"Six already, huh?"
Roche nodded. "We could use a warrior such as you, Geralt. I know how much you despise politics, but for the good of the realm, please consider it. Nilfgaard will be unstoppable if they do not face continued opposition in Temeria."
"I'm one man," Geralt pointed out. "Monsters are my specialty, not men."
"Together we proved your innocence in the assassination of Foltest, yes? We rescued Anaïs as well, didn't we? And we killed Dethmold. I need your help, Geralt. Together, we can win this war."
"I'm sorry, Vernon," he said. "You're better off trying to court the loyalties of Temeria's lords. You and Jan Natalis will do far more for Anaïs than I ever could."
"What are you going to do then, Geralt?"
He shrugged. "I've been looking for work, the same as always," he said. "Thought I should keep low after what happened on Skellige. Had some ideas for how I could fill my time, but nothing's materialized yet."
"Skellige?" Roche sounded impressed. "What were you up to there?"
"After we parted in Loc Muinne, with the witch hunts starting, Yen decided she wanted to get away as fast as possible. We weren't going to find safety in Nilfgaard, or in Redenia, and she didn't want to involve herself in Temeria either. So we decided to go to Skellige, hoping maybe for some clues about the whereabouts of my ward, Ciri."
Roche was confused. "You never mentioned you had a ward."
"No… never mentioned that she was the rightful heir to the Cintran throne either. Crillia Elen Fiona Riannon of the House of Raven, granddaughter of Queen Calanthe- the real Ciri, not the feigned girl who Emperor Emhyr var Emreis married." Geralt sighed. "We parted ways a few years ago, haven't seen her since."
"And did you find her on the Isles?"
"No," Geralt admitted. "Not even the slightest trace."
"I see…"
"When we got to Kaer Trolde, King Bran had died."
"I had heard as much. But I take it you had some part in what followed?"
"I did. Crach an Craite requested that I help his children with the tasks they had taken on to prove their worthiness as the new ruler of Skellige. Cerys was attempting to lift the curse of Jarl Udalryk of Spikeroog, while Hjalmar was freeing the Isle of Undvik from an ice giant. Well, turns out the curse afflicting Jarl Udalryk was a hym, and I slew the ice giant with Hjalmar and his men."
"Quite the adventure, Geralt."
"That was only the beginning," he said with a chuckle. "After that, I took up a contract on a cursed lighthouse, which got me imprisoned by Madman Lugos Drummond due to what transpired afterward. I helped his son too, with his troubles, to pay my blood price, so we conquered the Cave of Dreams together." Geralt paused for a minute, reflecting on what he'd seen there. In the cave of Dreams, they were faced with their greatest fears. His had been a nightmare that had plagued him since he'd regained some of his memories with the Wild Hunt. Of Ciri having been seduced by the Wild Hunt, joining Eredin Bréacc Glas in his conquest of worlds, and the death, and destruction that would follow behind them.
"Is something wrong, Geralt?" Roche interrupted.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm fine. Just thinking back." He decided against mentioning how his adventures on Skellige had ended, with him having been invited by Crach to witness the choosing of the new ruler. Beserkers had attacked during the feast, and ultimately, he had chosen to go with Cerys to help her uncover the truth of the conspiracy, learning that King Bran's widow, Birna Bran had been behind it, in an effort to secure the throne for her son, Svanrige Tuirseach. The widow got her way- after a sense, as her son had married Cerys not long after the coronation, so that Cerys could secure support among those who had opposed her ascension, though Birna was not able to witness it from the world of the living.
"And your Yennefer? How is she?"
"I… lost track of her on Skellige," he confessed. "She had some business she wished to carry out with me. But I was busy finding contracts and repaying favors that I didn't have time for her. By the time I looked for her, she was already gone. I've not seen her since. Think I may have made her angry by not helping her with what it was she was planning."
"A shame," Roche said, "we could use her too."
"Heard anything from Triss?"
"No," Roche shook his head, "you?"
Geralt wished that he could say he'd heard anything from Triss. His one-time lover had fallen into the hands of Nilfgaardians not long after the death of King Foltest, and he and Yennefer had been powerless to save her. They'd been able to recover Princess Anaïs, but not Triss Merigold. Except as it turned out- Geralt had not needed to save Triss at all, as Letho the Kingslayer had rescued her without him. Geralt and Triss had reunited in the ruins of Loc Muinne, but after the chaos, they parted ways. He and Yen had gone on to their adventures in Skellige, Roche had taken his place within the Temerian resistance, and Triss had… well he hoped he could find out. "I've heard about things she's done recently," he admitted. "In Novigrad, it seems she's the second most important target to the witch hunters, only to Philippa Eilhart. That's part of why I can't agree to join your forces, Roche. I'm trying to find her."
"Mm," said the Temerian patriot. "And is there anything I could do that would help you in that?"
He shrugged. "I could use some leads, I suppose. I suspect Triss might be avoiding me, or even outright hiding from me. I could use someone else to try and reach her." In all honesty, he wasn't even particularly sure why he specifically felt compelled to search for Triss now. After he and Yen had been taken from the Isle of Avalon, it felt like adventures were just getting thrown at him. Now it had been some time since he actually felt any sort of direction to go in. "Just looking for work, at the very least."
"Ah," Roche said, nodding. "The last I heard of Triss was that the mage hunters were offering handsome rewards for her head in Novigrad. Whether or not she's actually there… I do not know."
"That's the last I've heard as well," Geralt concurred.
Well if you ever do change your mind… I will have plenty of opportunities to offer you."
"Thanks Vernon."
Geralt and Roche parted ways with a hand-shake. Then Roche went to the stables to gather his horse and rode off, while Geralt remained at the inn. He began to look over the noticeboard, and felt amused by what he saw.
Usually in wars, there were more opportunities for work. Both sides were always looking for soldiers of course, though Geralt chose to remain neutral, but invasions led to no shortage of people going missing and monsters too; usually necrophages like ghouls and grave hags or wraiths and other monsters born of improper burial practices. And it led to an increase in lords and other nobility now caring far more about some parts of their lands than they normally did, which drove awareness for some of the monsters that were plaguing them. In the past, Geralt had normally taken those opportunities, though things seemed different now.
During the Second Northern War, Geralt had spent his time focused on finding Ciri, and doing whatever he could to get her back. Now society seemed much more mistrustful of witchers, and searched for other alternatives, which was fueled by increased disdain for non-humans (which included mutated witchers) and the decline in the number of witchers still on the path. That, as well as the fact that the war had not even really begun yet.
The Temerian army had not stood in unity against the Nilfgaardians. There were the patriots who sought to rally behind Princess Anaïs, such as Vernon Roche, under the command of Constable Jan Natalis. And there were those who had seen Princess Adda as the rightful heir to Foltest, despite her previous history and bent the knee to her and by extension Nilfgaard as she gave her hand in marriage to Emperor Emhyr. Unable to form a unified front, the Nilfgaardians had been able to easily sweep through the kingdom of Temeria and make it their own, though the resistance from Temerian patriots had continued. It was only a matter of time before an invasion of Aedirn, Redenia, Lyria and Rivia began, but for now all sides were at a standstill.
A man stepped up to the notice board. His hair and beard were fashioned in ways typical of Redenian rogues, and Geralt knew that if they met on the road, he'd probably assume this was a bandit of some kind. He took out a piece of paper and began to hammer it in.
The witcher read the paper as it was still being put up.
Let it be known that Olgierd von Everec shall pay a generous reward in gold, jewels and movable goods (subject to negotiation) to any man who descends into the Oxenfurt sewers and kills the beast which has infested them and taken to murdering the innocent, with an especial predilection for young maids. The task is best suited for a battle-hardened individual…
"Looking for a witcher?" he asked the man.
"Some sort of monster slayer, aye," the Redenian man said. "A witcher'll do."
"What kind of monster are we dealing with here?" Geralt wondered.
The man frowned. "Big, bad, ugly. Squats in the sewers. If you're interested, drop by the Garin Estate, ask for Olgierd von Everec. He's the one who ordered this to be posted."
Geralt stepped forward and took the notice before the man had finished posting it. Well well. Finally some work, he thought to himself as he read the full notice. "I'll be stopping soon," he promised the man.
He folded up the notice and put it in a pocket in his armor. Then Geralt retreated back into the inn.
Why not? he thought to himself. I need work somewhere. He sat in the Seven Cats in for a while. He reread the notice a few times, looking for any details he could find, until he felt as though he had sufficiently exhausted the paper.
Geralt felt a little bad about not telling Roche everything. In truth, he'd given some serious thought to joining the Temerian army. It wasn't a thought he would readily admit to with everyone, but it was one he gave a little more pause to than he ever would before. 'You claim to be neutral, Geralt, but you rarely are,' Yen had chided him, after Foltest's death. 'You've lifted curses on royals, aided in coups, even took the rightful heir of Cintra as your ward. And let's not get into all your royal… affairs.'
'What affairs?' he'd responded. 'I'm not…'
'Don't make me laugh, Geralt. It's not only royalty that I'm speaking of. All those sorceress you've-'
Geralt had tuned out after that. But one line still stuck with him after all that time. What good is neutrality if you're always forced to choose?
Still, he just simply wanted to return to what he'd always done. Fighting monsters was his trade, and even if he did end up helping one side more than the other, he would be doing what he was meant to do. I'll take the job, he finally decided. He didn't have any doubt in his mind.
Geralt remained at the Seven Cats Inn for the rest of the evening. There was much to reflect on in his time since he'd returned to the Continent, stuff that he still had yet to fully process. But he didn't think he'd ever get through it alone.
He spent the night with a quite lovely young woman. She was the daughter of the innkeeper, who took an interest in Geralt after supper. Though he could feel the innkeeper's disapproving gaze, he hadn't stopped them when she took him to bed.
When he woke up the next morning, he had no choice but to leave her before she'd woken up. Geralt knew where Lord Garin's mansion was, but it meant a long day's ride. He gave the innkeeper's daughter a kiss, then set off on his horse, Roach.
The Seven Cats Inn was on the southern outskirts of Novigrad, just outside the city walls, while the Garin Estate was almost a day's ride into Temeria. Geralt knew a little bit about the history of their house even. The Garins had been among the most powerful houses in the now partitioned kingdom of Emblonia, which were now the Riverside region in Redania and Pontaria in Temeria. The House of Garin had been among the most prominent houses to fall from grace at the time, owing to their location, and their estate had been auctioned several times. Yen had brought it up not so long ago, with it facing auction again and was considering making an effort, but he'd finally talked her out of it. But it seemed that this Olgierd von Everec had won the auction. That or he had claimed squatters rights.
Geralt was also fairly certain that he'd heard of the von Everecs before, though he knew considerably less about them than he did the Garins. Just from the name alone, he could deduce they were of Redenian nobility, and he suspected that if Olgierd had either bought the property or taken it, he might have been close to the king even. Since the events at Loc Muinne, King Radovid had been aiming to consolidate power as much as possible; claiming Hengsfors League as part of Redania, sponsoring the witch hunts let by the Church of the Eternal Fire and the Order of the Flaming Rose and taking Hierarch Hammelfart's sole daughter to wife in the hopes of gaining Novigrad's fealty. Now the young King of Redania- nicknamed, 'the Stern,' stood alone as the greatest power in the north, greater than Jan Natalis, Vernon Roche and the Temerian resistance, Fracesca and her elven city in Dol Blathanna, Saskia the Dragonslayer's resistance in Upper Aedirn, or even King Esterad Thyssen in Kovir. Based on that, he had no trouble imagining that Radovid had wanted to have his nobility expand their influence in less secure parts of his kingdom as a means to ensure its loyalty.
He took several stops on the way to eat. His mutations always had made his metabolism a fickle thing. While he could go for longer than a normal human without food in times of need, he was also hungry much more often and needed nourishment. So not only were the stops for Roach's sake, but for his own as well.
As it turned out, Geralt ended up riding too far north, and ultimately reached the village of Bowdon, which wasn't too far from the estate actually. From there, he was able to follow the signs that led to the Garin Estate, going along the road, until finally he could hear a small stream in the distance. Further on, that stream came up to the road, and then beyond that, eventually revealed to be a small moat that surrounded the land.
If it weren't for the signs though, Geralt probably would have missed the estate entirely. He had not been to many houses belonging to Redenian nobility, but they were usually larger than this. The wall around the estate was little more than a decorative brick fence, and the incredibly shallow moat offered little beyond decoration as well. Only a single lowered drawbridge offered an entrance to the land, though he certainly could have climbed over the wall if he had to, which led into a rather underwhelming inside.
There were some small gardens, but nothing particularly lavish, and the house itself looked much younger than he was expecting, in addition to being smaller. It had a simple charm to it, yes, though it was only two floors high, the first floor having stone constructed walls similar to the outer wall that surrounded the land, and a gable roof made of timber on top of that where the second floor would have been. He didn't detect anything underground with his witcher senses, which meant there likely wasn't a basement at all- perhaps a small cellar at most.
As he walked through the yard, he noticed a man standing on top of the deck. "Oi mate! Your mug's not familiar! Ah, what is it you want?" the man called down to him.
"Looking for Olgierd von Everec," Geralt responded, bluntly.
"Ah… that'd be inside."
Geralt walked the rest of the way through the yard and up the stone steps to the two-doored entrance. He could hear the revelries going on within already as he approached the door.
A man was knife throwing and had just managed a nearly perfect throw to hit the target when Geralt walked in, which caused a cheer from the dozen or so men and women gathered around. The target was a rather crude drawing of a monkey's face- one of many exotic creatures from the distant lands of Zerrikania- and the man turned and bowed to a woman who was sitting on a couch nearby.
Things got quieter as Geralt stepped into the middle of the room and the knife thrower took his seat beside the lady he'd just bowed to. Already, he could see that these people were nothing but trouble, but now he was too far in to back out. They looked both like nobility and outlaws, richly dressed but wearing things as was more typical of bandits around these lands. He thought at first he saw the man who'd posted the notice at the Seven Cats Inn, but realized there were two other men who looked exceedingly similar, and deduced they were probably brothers. He counted fourteen in total, nine men, five women.
"I'm looking for Olgierd von Everec," he announced to them.
"None here by that name," one of the men replied.
"Who are you?" Geralt wondered. "What are you doing here?"
"Who do you think we are?" the same man replied. He had a particularly thick and dark mustache, and hair that was shaved around the sides and grown out on the top, brushed to the left side of his face. "What's your guess?"
"By the looks of you," Geralt said, looking around, "you're cutthroats, or bandits. Probably took the estate, rather than buying it." Banditry if successful could lead to taking the possession of highborn things, he'd found in his experience, so he figured that was what they really were at their core.
"Well you're mistaken," the man said, laughing. "We're sons o' nobles, all."
One of the women let out a hearty laugh. "And daughters, too."
Alright, so maybe Olgierd von Everec really does keep company like you then. "So you gonna tell me who you are, precisely?"
"The Redanian Free Company. 'Wild Ones,' they call us- owing to the boar in our coat of arms," the woman responded.
A bunch of wild pigs, huh? Geralt thought he might have seen a notice or two mentioning the Wild Ones, maybe even a contract on them, though he wasn't certain. He could handle outlaws, particularly in smaller groups, but he was surrounded here and however crude or honed their skills were, their numbers would be too much. He decided it best to avoid offending them. "Someone told me I'd find Olgierd here," he said.
"Well then someone's made an arse of you," the mustached man replied.
"So maybe you can fix that and help me, brother," Geralt said, figuring it might be worth a shot to portray himself as not unlike them. He saw a few smiles around the room from people who were trying not to laugh.
"Somethin' tells me that you and me got different mams," the man answered.
A roar of hearty laughter rose from the Wild Ones.
When it quieted down, a bearded man who looked like one of the brothers who'd put up the contract stood up. "Alright Ungus, you've had your fun. I'm Olgierd. Tell me- what brings you here?"
Then another one of the Wild Ones stood up. "No, no. I'm Olgierd."
One of the prettier women stood up after that. "You? Not likely. I'm Olgierd."
They all laughed again.
Geralt hid his annoyance deep. "You folk are a hoot and all, and I'd love to stay for more laughs, but time's short. Here about the contract in the sewers of Oxenfurt, which Olgierd put up a bounty on. Need to talk to him about it."
"Whoa, shit just got serious," a third man said.
The bearded man waved away the remark. "Shit's always serious when dealing with a witcher, innit?"
"Why's that?" Geralt wondered. In truth, he did usually prefer his contracts be done with formality and honesty rather than veiled courtesy or unprofessionalism. But that didn't make shit always serious when dealing with witchers.
"They purge you lot of emotion, don't they?" Asked a fourth man, who'd been the second to claim to be Olgierd. "It's why you're always so stiff. Heh! You'd think they'd shoved a long stick up your arse."
Another wave of hearty laughter came.
"That's enough now," the bearded man said, "fun's up. I'll take you to see Olgierd now."
You were saying that just a minute ago too. The bearded Wild One began to go up the stairs, inviting Geralt to follow.
"A bit of advice, witcher," the man began to say as they were walking up the stairs, "once you meet Olgierd, try to pique his interest somehow."
Who does this Olgierd think he is, exactly? Geralt had dealt with plenty of contract-givers, who'd done plenty of things that annoyed him. Oh, there were contract-givers who wanted proof of his abilities in some way, or men like King Foltest who'd been difficult to know the true feelings of at times, but never had he been forced to earn the interest of a contract-giver. "I have to pique his interest? He's the one who put the contract out."
"Aye, but he don't need you to do it," the Wild One insisted, then pointed to a door as they stopped, "so you want the job- you gotta grab his attention. And he's one to be bored mighty quick."
Geralt rolled his eyes, then opened the door to the room which the bearded man gestured to. He stepped in, where a man was standing in front of the naked statue of a woman.
"Ataman, sir," the Wild One said, "you've a guest."
The man stepped away, and closed the door, leaving Geralt and this Olgierd alone. He noticed that Olgierd's attire was much more intricate and detailed than the others. Even if all of those down below were of nobility, they were not all of equal levels, it seemed. Olgierd had light red hair on his head, cut in the same way as most of the others wore it, shaved on the sides and grown out on top- brushed to the side. He had several silver rings on his fingers, wore golden earrings and had particularly thick hair on his arms as well, that was visible up until his arms were covered by his sleeves. This Olgierd von Everec did not turn around to face Geralt, but instead remained fixed on the statue.
"Do you know what kind of sculptures fetch the best prices?" He started with. "Statues of deities, busts of kings… and nudes. What have we here? The statue of a naked wench. What do you think of her?"
"Looks like an elven wench," he pointed out, having noticed the pointed ears of the woman. "Must say I prefer the works of Pax Gurnst though."
"Ah… the Koviri school. Are you an Oxenfurt man, then?"
"No. But I know some people who graduated from there though." Jaskier always had something or another to say about the arts, even when Geralt wasn't interested in hearing about it.
"I used to like the work of Votticelli. The life he could breathe into a chunk of cold stone… but look at it now. It seems just like a rock. Perfectly portioned, smoothed to not have a flaw on its surface. Painfully perfect." Olgierd stepped forward and briefly caressed the statue's hair. "Lifeless and boring like a boulder on the roadside," he said, shoving it to the ground. On impact, the statue broke in several spots. Now the Redanian nobleman turned to look at it. "Looks a little more interesting now. Come now, let's go join the others for some refreshment."
Geralt followed Olgierd out of the room again, and onto the balcony that peered over the area where the Wild Ones were frolicking. "Long live the ataman!" One of them called when he noticed the two men walking above.
"Long live the ataman!" Another called out. "Long live ataman Olgierd!"
"Long live the ataman! Long live the ataman!" The Wild Ones cheered in unison.
"Join us, Ataman Olgierd," one of them said once the cheering finally stopped.
Olgierd turned to Geralt. "Well, we can hardly refuse them now, can we?"
Well you could… "Lead the way."
The two men went downstairs again, where Olgierd took a particularly fancy couch for his own, which was a little distance from the others. "Fetch us some wine, dear, and a nibble or too," he said along the way to a young lady in a green dress who did not look like one of the Wild Ones at all.
Geralt decided he wanted to get this done as quickly as he could. "Monster in the sewers, know anything more?"
"I've no clue what it is," Olgierd said, studying Geralt, "only that it's deadly. I'd not have bothered were it not for it killing my cook. The way she prepared game… she had no equal."
Sounds like a load of shit. "That why she was in the sewers? To fetch game?"
Olgierd was taken aback. "Nay… she went to a fair with a sister or cousin- doesn't matter. Daft wench convinced her that a prince had transformed into a toad down in the sewers. And you know women- each craves a prince and will wad knee deep in shite to get him. Vissy was no different in that respect. Down she went- never to return. Wasn't the first either- it seems."
The young lady with the green dress came back with a platter of drinks and some snacks, then set them down on the table. One of the Wild Ones who Geralt hadn't seen before was standing behind her, and with a grin decided to slap her ass.
Geralt was surprised by what Olgierd did next. "Hey! Leave her be!" he told the man, who cautiously stepped away. "Is that any way to treat the lord of the manor's daughter?" Then the ginger outlaw returned his attention to Geralt. "So, the contract. Will you take it?"
"Consider the beast gone."
"Confident," Olgierd said, smiling, "bring me its head and the reward shall be yours. In the meantime, it grows late, and it's a full day from here to Oxenfurt. Why don't you stay the night? Herodore can tend to your horse as punishment for harassing dear Emilith."
Geralt sat down. Redania was safer to travel than Temeria was, but that still didn't make travel at night while alone the safest either. He decided that he would stay.
"Perhaps you should know my mates a little better?" Olgierd suggested. "How many do you know?"
"I know the name of one," he said, pointing to the man with the mustache. "That one's name is Ungus. Suppose I now know the name of Herodore too."
"Ah…"
"What's the name of the man who showed me upstairs?" Geralt wondered.
"That would be Helmut Mercidolt. Not sure where his mother got the name from, but he's got two brothers, Roxo and Rudi. Roxo's the one who you met when you took the contract."
"So you were expecting me?" Geralt said.
"I was. Didn't know you'd be here so soon though."
"What about the others?"
"Adela over there in red is certain that it was in fact Adela who was Falka's daughter, and recently lost her man. She might have a job for you once you complete this one- finding and killing the men who killed him."
"Not interested," Geralt said, bluntly. "I don't take contracts on humans."
"Fine, fine. The two ladies over there, cuddling up to each other are Stephanie Mebalt and Lanne. Don't have any delusions of getting in bed with either one of them," Olgierd said, pointing. "Yasmin and Gorvet are siblings, come from up north. City called Blaviken, sure you've heard of it."
"Very funny."
"Man over there in green is Zorin. There's Ellen, Floris, Roman… Baldur over there is from Skellige, not Redania- took a good deal of convincing to let him in. And Robbert."
"That all of you?"
"Some of us have died," Olgierd said, only sounding a little saddened by the fact. "Got a couple off doing something else."
There was one woman who Olgierd had not told him the name of, who walked over to him. "And my name is-"
"-Olgierd von Everec, I remember," he interrupted. "That's what you told me."
The real Olgierd let out a small chuckle. "That's Elli," he said as the young woman sat down in Geralt's lap. "Think she wants you to entertain her for the night. I'll leave you to it."
Olgierd von Everec stood and walked away, leaving Geralt with Elli still sitting in his lap. "Your ataman order you to do this?" Geralt asked.
"No," she said, looking almost offended. "Never had a witcher before. Wanted to know what it's like." He decided she was the prettiest of the ladies he'd seen among Olgierd's company. She only wore a single pendant necklace and earrings for jewelry, to go with her plain white blouse that had a low neckline. "I want you to entertain me for the night."
"And how's that? You want me to take you upstairs and-"
"-shag me till midmorning? Later, witcher. First, let's have fun."
"What's the celebration about?" He asked, looking at her blue-grey eyes. "Something important going on?"
"Ataman Olgierd's new saber arrived," Elli answered, "but it's not too much more than the usual round here. I figured it was more worth celebrating you, the brave witcher who'll slay the beast that prowls the sewers."
"Uh huh. So…"
"First we drink," Elli said, standing up from Geralt's lap and getting two mugs of beer. She gave one to Geralt, and kept the other for herself. "Cheers!"
"Cheers," he said, considerably less enthused. He drank the Redanian brew, which was meant to taste better, even if it wasn't as strong as other beers, taking it all in with just a few gulps. When he set the mug down, completely empty, Elli looked impressed.
"Well well," she said, smiling. She invited Geralt over to a table. "Come on, let's play poker?"
"Not looking to lose money," Geralt informed her. "Would prefer to keep it, in fact."
"Then don't lose," Elli retorted.
They played poker with the two siblings from Blaviken, Yasmin and Govert. Luckily, Geralt was dealt some lucky hands early, which won him enough coin to play cautiously the rest of the night without losing any, while the man Govert almost immediately lost all of his coin and was ultimately replaced by Roman Ertalop, who Geralt still couldn't have said anything about by the end of the night.
After that, Elli invited him to a knife throwing competition. Unfortunately, knife throwing was not a skill he'd honed often enough and he finished third out of five, behind Baldur Darce, the Skelliger and Elli herself.
The rest of the night was less distinguishable. He proved to be a champion of arm-wrestling, and they got to see some tricks put on by Ellen Auvoff. It was past midnight when they all finally started to go to bed, as the festivities moved outside in respect of those who were taking their leave of the night.
He retreated to Elli Fetalen's bedchamber that night, where she showed him a splendid time. When it was done, his naked lover for the night was laying next to Geralt, whose urges had been satisfied.
"Perhaps you could take me with you to Oxenfurt," Elli suggested. "I can help you fight the monster in the sewers."
"No," Geralt said, bluntly shaking their head. "What happened tonight between us will stay here. You cannot help me fight the monster in the sewers." Oddly, he found himself thinking back to what he had told King Foltest after he insisted on going with Geralt to attempt to lift Princess Adda's curse. "In the sewers, I cannot have my focus break, even for a second. That can be the difference between life or death. I must work alone in this."
Elli Fetalen stared at him with disappointment. "Well maybe you can return to me once it's done?"
"I'll give it thought," he promised, though he doubted it would come to pass. After he was done with this monster, he wanted to never see Olgierd von Everec and his Wild Ones again.
Geralt didn't feel nervous about the Toad Prince. This was what he'd been trained for, what he'd been designed to do. All his life he'd carried out work like this. But nothing could have prepared him for what he faced in the coming days.