(F/N) sat staring at his face in a puddle in the woods. He still couldn't get over it. His skin was grey beyond belief, and his hair was as white as Geralts. He looked like a 60 year old man with some form of the plague. His master had essentially told him to get over his appearance. As if he had gained a scar. He had expected as much. He wasn't much in terms of emotional advice, no witcher was.
Geralt was currently sitting with Dandelion, that Nilfgaardian who claimed he wasn't a Nilfgaardian, and the half-dryad they had met when Geralt had nearly gotten beaten to death by Vilgefortz. That was the company they were keeping. The young witcher sat a long distance away from the rest of the group. He didn't feel like being with them. (F/N) rubbed his hands together, he heard someone approaching. His new senses were good at sensing others, he turned his head, his red eyes picked up the crystal clear image of Regis. The last member of their party.
"Hey..."
The older vampire leaned against a tree, "Vanity is a sin. You're a smart lad. I'm surprised you'd violate that tenent so easily."
(F/N) laughed, "It's hard not to look at yourself when you look as I do."
Regis shrugged as he sat next to the young witcher, "I would disagree. I've looked at my reflection and seen only horror...internally and otherwise...if anything it's made it harder to look at myself."
The witcher remained silent, "Why are you here? Is it because I'm part vampire? You feel some connection to me? You feel the need to tell me how to be a true vampire?"
Regis laughed, he felt a connection to the teenager, just not for the reasons he assumed, "Oh, no, no, no. What is a true vampire? If I might ask."
"One that drinks blood. One that kills for sport. A monster...No offense."
"None taken. Is that either of us?"
(F/N) shook his head, "You're different, you're better...or at least try to be. And I haven't done anything...yet."
The older vampire gave him a look, "That doesn't mean you will do anything."
The pair sat in silence, neither having anything to say to the other. Until the witcher took a deep breath, he was so curious, he finally sat in front of a vampire. One that could answer his questions. He swallowed, "Is it normal? The thirst?"
Regis nodded, his expression grave, he knew of it, he felt it now, even as he spoke to the witcher. He felt a powerful urge to taste the sweet crimson liquid, "Yes...the consistent scratch in your throat. The dizziness. The feeling of pure bliss when just a drop of that forbidden substance touches your lips. Every individual like us feels the same urges. The same cumpulsions."
(F/N) shuddered, he could hear the blood rushing through the veins of his companions as they sat around the campfire. Even from this distance. It was disgusting, the urges he had. Ever since his trial. That's nearly all that consumed his thoughts. He hadn't drank any blood. At least none that he had recalled. His hand started to shake. He wanted more than anything to drink the one thing that all vampires wanted. But he couldn't he knew he couldn't, that was a line, he could never cross, never, "When does it stop?"
"It doesn't."
The witcher stood, his anger flared, his thirst fueling the fire in his stomach, "Then how do you conquer it? How do you lessen it? I must know."
Regis smiled slightly, not deterred in the slightest, "You learn to live with it. Very few do anything else other than indulge it...I knew of a man...someone like us...who struggled with many things."
"Blood?"
"Amoung other things. They called him the Fang. He was consumed with hatred...but he wasn't uncaring...quite the opposite. He would do anything for the people he loved. Anything. He sacrificed everything for someone he cared for. You remind me of him."
(F/N) sighed as he rubbed his face, "Where's your friend now?"
Regis stood, and patted his shoulder, "It isn't important. What matters is, you can learn to live with your vices. I let mine consume me, the way I lived was no way to live life...so I changed."
"And you never drank? Not even a drop."
"I never violate the principles I set for myself."
(F/N) laughed, a vampire that detested blood, truly he had heard everything. Regis smiled, "You're almost exactly like my old friend. All you need is a title."
The witcher sneered, and made a grand gesture, "A title? I'm (F/N) (L/N) of Lyria. A witcher. I would have been knighted by Queen Meave herself, if I had fought as bravely as Geralt."
The vampire clicked his tounge, "You are (F/N) (L/N), a simple witcher, yes. But even if you had the title, it wouldn't express who you really are."
(F/N) smiled at Regis, he already liked the vampire, quite a bit, "So what would you suggest? What should I call myself to show the world what I am?"
"A simple title, nothing more. How about...Bat?"
"I hate it."
———————————————————————————
Magnus had a look of shear terror on his face, "And I saw the beast wrap it's mouth around him and slowly pull him in." The crowd gasped as it listened to his every word, "The beast was as big as a barn. It was killing our cows for sport. That's why he came to us, the Black Bat."
The crowd's eyes widened as they questioned each other on who that was. "I heard he's a demon who became a witcher."
"I heard he was dropped into the Eternal Fire as an infant, and crawled out a man."
"I heard he slays dragons for fun."
Magnus whipped the sweat off his face, "I led the witcher to the mine, where the creature was nesting. I swear to you, he looked at me and said, 'this'll be easy.' Then that monster let out a mighty roar."
A woman in the corner fainted. Priscilla was watching in pure shock. Tears were threatening to fall. She couldn't believe (F/N) was dead. But this monster sounded fierce, far beyond what a simple witcher could handle. His master Geralt would be heartbroken.
A man in the large crowd, tapped Magnus' shoulder, "What happened then?"
Magnus slowly took a swig from the tankard of ale he had bought from the Rosemary and Thyme. Zoltan was sitting in a corner sharpening his axe. "The witcher...fought back as best he could...but the thing swallowed him...whole."
"That's incredible."
The entire crowd looked at the bard as he wrote down the details. Dandelion had barely stopped writing since he had been freed from the Temple Guards grasp. He hadn't touched a quill in weeks. Mangus looked at him shocked. The troubadour paused, "Sorry, keep going. (F/N) is almost as bad as Geralt when it comes to details."
Priscilla smacked Dandelion upside the head, "What's wrong with you? (F/N)'s dead."
The troubadour rolled his eyes, "No, he got eaten. There's a difference. He's fine."
Mangus looked at the poet angrily, "How dare you! I saw him with my..."
The door was kicked open, the entire room went silent. A horrid smell entered the room, followed by an even more horrid sight. (F/N) walked in, with a bored look in his eyes, he was covered in green and yellow slime. His entire body was smoking from the stomach acid that covered his armor. He was dripping the substance all over the floor. Dandelion smiled, "Told you."
The witcher was dragging a monsters head behind him. The entire crowd was either coughing and pinching their noses or staring in horror at the monster. Dandelion sighed, he would no doubt have to clean it. Priscilla almost ran up and hugged the witcher, but the smell was too awful. (F/N) set the head down right in front of Magnus, "Sorry for keeping you waiting. It was a venomous arachas. I had to get it from the inside."
Magnus stared at the beast in amazement, "My god. You cut your way out of the thing?"
(F/N) nodded, his hood and mask were stuck to his head and face. The viper on his medallion looked like a slug, "It was difficult. But the monster shouldn't bother you. I'll take my coin now."
Dandelion stood up, "The Black Bat has successfully slain another beast."
Magnus happily tossed (F/N) a full coin purse. The crowd cheered, they patted the monster slayer on the back in thanks. Happy to be rid of another pest. The witcher nodded in thanks and walked over to the counter, the crowd cheered as they celebrated. The Black Bat had more than lived up to the legend. He sat next to Zoltan. Even the dwarf had to cough, "Laddy, you stink like you got birthed five times over."
(F/N) shrugged as he dumped the coins on the counter, "You get used to monster guts."
Priscilla sat next to him as he counted the coins, relieved that he wasn't dead, "Well?"
"300. So that brings my total amount of coin to about 700."
The dwarf and the trobairitz groaned, "Damn it."
(F/N) sighed and wiped his eyes clean, "How am I supposed to look for Ciri if I can't even afford passage to Skellige?"
Dandelion walked behind the counter, and poured him some ale, "On the house. You earned it."
(F/N) nodded, as he took the ale, the troubadour leaned on the counter, "Well, I'd help you, but...I'm broke to."
The witcher sighed as he pulled his mask down, yellow slime dripped onto the counter making Dandelion cringe. He slowly drowned his sorrows away, "Well, I have a few favors I need to take care of, Roche said he needed my help and so did Triss, I'll worry about getting to Skellige once I've dealt with them."
Dandelion bit his lip, "I also need some help around here if you wouldn't mind...if I turn a reasonable profit I could loan you some coin."
Priscilla gave him a look, "Or you could give it to him for saving your life."
"I could also do that."
Zoltan laughed as he looked at the couple argue, "It's times like this I'm glad my engagement fell through."
(F/N) nodded and pulled his mask up, "I'm gonna go help Roche and then go to Triss."
Dandelion saw his friend stand up, the slime was dripping all over the floor, "Wait, first you need a good wash."
———————————————————————————
(F/N) sat in the small wooden tub, it was so small, he had to dangle his pale legs out. Dandelion dumped a bucket of water over him, causing him to roar out, "Dammit Dandelion! That's cold!"
The water had turned snot green, the bard had taken off his purple bonnet and elegant purple shirt. His eyes watered from the smell, "Well I can hardly rub two coppers together, so having bath water is a luxury."
The witcher growled as he ran his fingers through his white hair, it was falling out even quicker. He gave the troubadour a look, "I'd have paid for it to be warm."
The poet sat behind the witcher and pulled up his sleeves, he casually grabbed a rag and started cleaning in between the wrinkles in his back, "We're friends, right (F/N)?"
"No."
"Oh so you let mere acquaintances scrub you down when your naked?"
"Only if there women."
Dandelion ignored the statement, and had a disgusted look on his face, as he was finding things in his wrinkly skin that shouldn't be there, "So...acquaintance to friend...while I was...away...Did Priscilla talk about me?"
"Yes."
"She did!? I mean....she did?"
(F/N) glanced at the troubadour, "Yes, she seemed incredibly worried about you. I also asked about how you two meet...I think she likes you."
Dandelion stopped scrubbing and smiled, he rested his hand under his chin, "I really love her you know. Whenever I see her my heart melts and even the most beautiful words can't express how I feel. Is that how you felt around Ciri?"
The witcher paused, and thought back to their time together. Those memeories were some of the most pure and genuine of his life, "Yes...Dandelion?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you believe in Destiny?"
The troubadour laughed, as he finished scrubbing the slime off the witcher's head, "What kind of question is that? Of course I do."
(F/N) sighed, and looked at his reflection in the murky water, "So you believe that some things are just meant to happen or not?"
Dandelion laughed, as he stood up and set the rag aside, "Of course I do."
The witcher's expression hardened, "That's what I thought." He wanted to be with Ciri, badly. He loved her, he was certain of that. As soon as he saw the mirror image of Ciri in Dudu, he had realized that. But he knew deep down inside, that they were destined for something else. He had known for a while. All these years he had known. That was the one truth he couldn't escape from. The one truth that he hated.
———————————————————————————
(F/N) walked into the Temerian camp, he still smelled slightly, but it was a vast improvement over how he had looked a couple hours ago. The soldier led, (F/N) to a table where Roche was planning some sort of attack on some nearby Nilfgaardian forces. The soldier that had led him spoke, "Commander, I found the witcher prowling outside the camp. He said you wished to speak with him."
The Commander turned around, his hardened expression softened when he saw the witcher, "(F/N) (L/N). Safe and Sound."
He looked at the soldier, "Dismissed." The soldier gave a salute and respectfully walked off. (F/N) smiled at Roche, the Temerian looked him over, "So what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I owe you a favor."
The man smiled, and folded his arms, "Indeed you do. I need you and your sword."
(F/N) nodded, "You have them."
Roche sighed in relief, "It's Ves. She took a couple of the lads across the river. Plans to hit the Black Ones at Mulbrydale. The villagers there assisted us and the Nilfgaardians are punishing them for it."
"And you want me to assist her?"
The soldiers look hardened, how that was possible, he had no idea, "No. I ordered her to stay at camp. Indefinitely."
The witcher was a bit confused, "Okay. So she's insubordinate. You're her superior. How do I factor into this?"
Roche sighed, he was clearly upset this was what he was using his favor for, "I doubt Ves has entered the village yet. More likely she and the boys lie in wait in the woods nearby. We must find her before she attacks. And stop her. You were trained by the best tracker I know. Help me."
The witcher didn't see how this was any of his business, but Roche had helped him when he needed it, so he had earned his help, "Of course."
"Thank you, (F/N). We shall ride out." The witcher nodded and followed Roche to their horses. The soldier had a sense of urgency, he pondered if his relationship with Ves was merely professional. But that really wasn't his business. But based on how fast Roche rode his gelding he cared about Ves deeply.
When the pair finally made it to the village, the soldier turned to the witcher. Counting on the fact that he could use his sharp eye sight, "What do you see?"
(F/N) squinted through the darkness, he and Roche were kneeling by a large tree at an incredible distance from the village. "I see...figures in black armor."
"Nilfgaardians. What else?"
"There are people on their knees and stomachs. It looks like they're planning to execute the villagers. But I don't see Ves or any of your soldiers."
Roche shook his head, "She may be impetuous, but she's not stupid. She's waiting for her moment. It's already dark, so she'll probably wait until the Nilfgaardians..."
"Quiet."
"What now?"
The witcher was staring even farther away, he saw three blue dots in the sea of green grass, "A trio. Lightly equipped. Sneaking closer over there."
Suddenly he heard, Ves' voice in his ear, he could hear her shouting in the village, "Death to the Black Ones!"
Then he heard the soldiers shouting in defiance. He looked at Roche, "They're attacking."
Roche growled in anger, he drew his sword and charged towards the village, "Than we have to help! Follow me!"
(F/N) nodded and followed the soldier, he drew his own blade. The pair ran into the village, there was a small squad of Nilfgaardians. The invaders were wearing black and yellow armor, that was elegantly made. But hard to break or penetrate. (F/N) loved fighting Nilfgaardian soldiers, the witcher loathed the emperor with a passion. He had tried to take his life many years ago. Killing his soldiers made him feel as though he was getting back at him.
(F/N) and Roche caught the black ones off guard, they had already killed Roche's two men and had Ves cornered. Roche sent an arrow sailing into one of their eyes. While the witcher sliced one's head off, black and red mist was slowly ebbing off his body, he was moving so fast he was a blur in the night. The soldiers cried out in fear, as they were cut down by the mysterious figure. Ves cheered when she saw the two men appear and she shouted, "Temeria!"
Roche growled at Ves as he hacked the arm off of a Nilfgaardian, "Damn it Ves!"
The witcher shot forward, and impaled the last standing Nilfgaardian with his sword, right in the stomach. The soldier whimpered pathetically, as the witcher yelled loudly he lifted the soldier off the ground, blood was dripping all over the ground, the smell filled the air. (F/N) smiled under his mask, as he slammed the Nilfgaardian back to the ground. He pulled his bloody sword out of the man, he was breathing heavily, he wanted to lean down and drink from the puddle of blood that was slowly forming.
The witcher tried to fight the urges he felt and slowly bent over, but suddenly he heard Roche shout louder than he had ever heard him shout, "Gods dammit, Ves! Have you gone completley mental?! You ignore my orders. Go off on a suicide mission. And instead of donning a breastplate, you dash into battle, shirt open, navel and what not exposed!"
(F/N) slowly wiped his sword off and his sleeve and sheathed it, he noticed the villagers were quickly scurrying back into their homes, they were cowering from their saviors. Or butchers. It was all a matter of perspective. The witcher leaned against a fence made out of wet rotting wood. He could still hear a weak heartbeat out in the open.
Ves put her hands on her hips, her blonde hair was sprinkled with blood, "You're not my father, Roche. You've no right to tell me what to wear."
The soldier's fists started shaking, "But I am your commander, and you will obey me! Guerilla warfare. Warfare! It involves armies, for fucks sack."
"I could not abandon them. They helped us."
"It's a soldiers job to kill Ves, not save, not rescue. If that is not to your liking, join the Sisters of Melitele, study to be a healer. Fucking hell...Give me your weapon. You'll get it back when you wise up - if you wise up. Move out!" The woman slowly took her sword out and offered it to Roche. Her commander snatched it from her. Suddenly someone coughed and spit on the ground. The witcher turned and saw a Nilfgaardian soldier slowly crawling away, he was muttering obscenities.
(F/N) looked at the two Temerians, "Looks like you two got yourself a prisoner."
Roche had a grim look on his face, while Ves merely said, "We don't take prisoners," she looked at her commander, "you took my weapon, Roche...so I must manage with my bare hands."
Roche looked at the pathetic soldier, "Leave him alone. They're corpses enough here."
"What?!"
"You heard me."
"I did and I can't believe it! He came here to murder civilians. He's seen us. Will you have him return to his camp and report?!"
Roche walked over to the soldier, "Emhyr knows we can kill his men. Let him learn we can also show mercy."
The witcher stared at the soldier, he wanted to speak up and let him go, but he could hear his blood in his veins. The smell was so strong, he couldn't control himself, "Roche...I've got to side with Ves on this one. He's more trouble than he's worth."
The soldier sighed, "I don't like this...but so be it...you don't deserve to suffer because of this."
"Well said, (F/N). A good Black One's a dead Black One." The witcher smiled under his mask, his mouth was watering, he could imagine sinking his teeth into the soldier's neck and draining him. He was a Nilfgaardian, he deserved to die. All murderers deserved to be killed. That's what they were good for. They were bags of blood.
Roche pulled out a knife, "I'll take care of this."
(F/N) stepped up, "I'll do the honors. You said so yourself. You shouldn't be the one to do this, war takes a toll already."
The soldier sighed and looked at the blade, "I suppose there's wisdom in that, very well. I'll leave him to you."
Roche beckoned for Ves to come closer, "We should go before a patrol comes along. Thank you, (F/N)...I know you owed me...but...if you or Geralt...Ever need any help, you know where to find me."
The witcher nodded and the two men shared a respectful handshake and a nod. He watched as the Temerians left, before he walked over to the last soldier. He made sure none of the villagers were watching or listening. (F/N) knelled down, the Nilfgaardian started whimpering and begging him. The witcher shushed him, he let out a throaty chuckle, his eyes were watering. His eyes were completley red as he began speaking in Nilfgaardian, "Peace be with you." He slowly pulled his mask down, and smiled he spoke softly, "You get what you deserve."
The soldiers let out a slight yelp before everything went silent.
———————————————————————————
(F/N) walked up to Triss' temporary home and knocked on the door, the nasty looking man who owned the house opened the door, "Yes? Who you 'ere for?"
"Triss."
The man's fat wife walked up, "Told 'er from the start - no men, no pets! "Tis a decent house, for decent folk. And she's constantly bringing you here for a romp in the sheets."
The witcher sighed, he would kill for an opportunity like that, but unfortunately he had no such luck. The couple eventually let him in after he stood their long enough, and offered ten crowns. The witcher walked up the creaky stairs, he slowly made his way to the enchantress' room, she was trying to read, but he saw that she was nervously fidgeting and playing with her red hair. He stood their for a moment, observing the beauty that was Triss Merigold.
The witcher finally spoke up, "Triss."
The sorceress jumped slightly, when she looked at him, she looked exhausted, it was obvious she hadn't been expecting him, "(F/N)." She quickly tossed the book aside and smiled as she stood, "It's good to see you." The pair quickly hugged, but it was a bit awkward, the tension in the air was so thick.
The witcher smiled, "How's your hand doing? It looked bad when I saw it."
The enchantress raised her hand where the witch hunters had ripped her fingernails out, they were bright red, but the nails were back, "Magic did most of the healing, I'll take of the rest."
The witcher smiled, and nodded, "That's good...You wanted to speak with me?"
(F/N) hoped that she would tell him, that she loved him, that she felt the same way he did. But Triss smiled awkwardly, "I got a strange message. I don't know quite what to think."
The witcher's spirits fell, he tried to pretend as though he wasn't disappointed, "Oh...Who was it from?"
"Ingrid Vegelbud's servant."
Why did that name sound familiar? He slowly realized why it did. That's where General Voorhis had taken him to the races, and he had almost killed that poor horse.
"Why her?"
Triss smiled slightly, "Apparently Lady Vegelbud's prepared to donate a tidy sum. She wants to help mages escape from Novigrad."
(F/N) rubbed his mask, "And I'm guessing that amount of coin comes with a price."
The magician's smile faded, "You guessed right - and that's my problem. Vegelbud needs a favor, from me...no details in the letter, unfortunately. I'm supposed to meet the servant at the fish market. Says he needs to explain everything face to face, but these days I can't be sure meeting him's a good idea."
"For the record that is a terrible idea, which is why your resident witcher is here to help you with the problem for a price of course."
Triss could tell he was smirking, "And that price being?"
"A simple kiss would suffice."
The enchantress rolled her eyes, "A shame, I'm fresh out of those to give. I'll just go myself."
As she walked to the stairs the witcher laughed, "Fair enough, I'll help you free of charge."
"Thank you."
"How were you supposed to contact the servant?"
"Said I'd recognize him, he's supposed to be wearing a blue tunic, and have a load of keys on his belt. I'm supposed to ask him the price for his trout."
"Really? What next are you supposed to do a secret handshake? Maybe go with a red rose?"
Triss smiled sweetly, and looked at the witcher biting her lip, "He doesn't mention flowers, but I won't refuse if you feel like giving me some."
(F/N) smiled, and laughed a bit, "Remember at Kaer Mohren...I brought you that flower from the mountains?"
The enchantress laughed, "How could I forget? You were so charming back then, you've slacked off."
The witcher's eyes widened, "I volunteered to meet that servant for you, to make sure it's safe. I've not slacked off."
Triss smiled, "And I appreciate that, but he's expecting me."
"You can wait nearby and I can wave once I know everything's fine and safe. Then you come in."
The magician smiled and put a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you. I really appreciate it. I'll be watching."
The witcher nodded, he saw her smile slightly, he felt good knowing that he was able to help her while she was in this situation.
———————————————————————————
(F/N) walked through the fish market, the smell was revolting, especially with his enhanced sense of smell. There were a surprising amount of men with blue trousers and keys, many of whom thought he was a prostitute of some kind for asking about the price of their trout. A couple were upset when he said that wasn't the case.
(F/N) finally walked up to a man and asked, "What's the price for your trout?"
The man looked the witcher up and down, making (F/N) believe he was about to offer him five crowns to get on his knees, but instead he said, "It wasn't you who was to meet me, sir."
(F/N) let out a sigh of relief, and waved his hand in the air, "She wanted me to make sure everything was safe."
"Caution would adv..."
"Caution would advise that you do as I say."
The servant nodded, he stared at the sword on the man's back, "Seems I've got no choice. Come with me."
The servant looked around and started walking, he seemed incredibly nervous, even though there appeared to be no one there. As they walked through a crowd, the witcher heard the sound of something being pulled out of his sheath. (F/N) heard someone's heart beating faster than normal in the crowd. The next few seconds happened in slow motion, he reached for his sword, only for someone to grab his hood forcefully. The witcher turned around, in one Swift motion his blade whistled through the air and sliced off the bandit's hand that was grasping the dagger. The man shirked and fell to the ground grasping at his hand. The witcher turned back to the servant who he had been following.
Another bandit was running towards the man with a mace, ready to bash someone's head in. The witcher pulled back his sword and threw it. The blade flew through the air and hit the man right in the throat, his blood sprayed all over the crowd causing them to gasp and scream. Through the chaos, (F/N) grabbed the servant by the collar and spoke through his teeth, "Follow me," he hissed.
He dragged the servant to a nearby alley, where he could speak to him in private. The servant obviously hadn't hired the hunters, he was breathing wildly, and looking around for others, they had tried to kill him as well. But he was still angry, "Why did those bandits attack?"
The servant whipped his forehead, he slowly calmed down, "I've no idea! First time I've laid eyes on 'em. Maybe...well, recently someone's been tryin' to question our messengers...'bout the young count...Hold on. I was supposed to tell all this to Miss Merigold."
"Right here."
Triss suddenly walked up to (F/N), her hair and face were covered with her hood, she smiled in thanks to the witcher. The servant frowned, "You were to come alone, miss!"
The magician gave him a hard look, "If not for him, they would have dragged you in for questioning. The one who's now missing a hand was Valdo Muris, worked for the witch hunters."
The servant wiped his sweaty forehead again, "Aye, you're surely right, miss. I...it just weren't what I expected, since Lady Vegelbud..."
The witcher interrupted, "Wait. So what do you want from Miss Merigold exactly?"
The servant looked around the alley, "Lady Vegelbud's son - he's the...problem. Master Albert's taken an interest in alchemy...Temple Guard's gotten wind."
The witcher and the enchantress shared a look, Triss rubbed her face, "Wouldn't worry about the guard, but since the mage hunters tried to grab you, I'd say Albert's in serious trouble."
"Anyone who does anything that's slightly odd is."
The servant nodded and ran his hands together nervously, "Aye. Lady Vegelbud bought off the guardsmen, but since the hunters pay for every mage revealed to 'em..."
(F/N) sighed, as he looked at Triss, "They took the coin and told the hunters anyway. Seems Albert needs to disappear as soon as possible."
Triss nodded as she quickly thought of something, "I can arrange that. Think young Vegelbud can slip out of the house unnoticed?"
"Tain't that simple, sadly. Master Albert's in hiding - at the Vegelbuds' country estate. Lady Ingrid's got the notion she can get 'im out quietley - wants to throw a lavish masquerade ball."
The magician raised her eyebrow, "Am I suppose to attend, help him escape?"
"Aye, we'll not manage without you, miss. Lady Vegelbud fears the help's bein' watched."
The witcher scoffed, "Which they are. But...a lavish ball if that doesn't distract the hunters nothing will."
Triss smiled at the witcher and placed a hand delicately on his arm, "Especially if even half of what I've heard about the Vegelbuds' balls are true. Word is at the last one they served a hundred different desserts, and the fireworks boomed from dusk till dawn."
The servant smiled, "What with the war and all, m'lady's ordained but 85 desserts this time."
"Only 85? How will you survive?"
Triss punched him, "Don't listen to him. I'd love to see it all."
The witcher smiled, it had been a while since he had entertained himself aside from drinking and a game of cards, "Well, I suppose that we'll have to be discreet." He slowly intertwined his fingers with the sorceresses', she smiled, "You're coming with me?"
He tried to mask his true intentions, "Of course. I'm not about to give up a night of exquisite food, fireworks, and time with my favorite sorceress. Someone has to make sure you don't just gorge yourself on all those deserts."
"(F/N), please." The enchantress blushed and giggled a bit, "How do we get to the residence?"
The servant smiled, and pulled out a slip of paper, "Your invitation - take it," he handed the paper to her, "Guard at the gate'll have instructions for you. You're to wear a fox mask, all right? Good luck to you."
The witcher nodded as the servant scurried out of the alley. Triss smiled at him, "You can let go of my hand now."
The witcher looked down and then back at her, "I certainly could."
The sorceress smiled, "You have to let go eventually. We have to change our clothes. Buy our masks."
The witcher groaned, and released her hand, "I'll go buy some clothes and the masks. I know a tailor who should have everything. I might have to shave my head though."
Triss frowned, and bit her lip as if debating something in her mind, "Actually...don't worry about that...just buy your clothes and our masks. Then come back."
The witcher nodded and walked out of the alley, "Alright, see you tonight Triss."
As the witcher walked further and further away, he smiled to himself, he had a date with the most beautiful sorceress in all the land.