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stillness138 · 3 months

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Since there won't be any more expansions (and i'm a chronic procrastinator), i updated my personal top 10 Gwent card arts into a top 20, including the few sets that came since then and shuffling things around a bit.

It's a long one, hence the cut.

Personal top 20 Gwent card arts:

20: Bone Talisman by Bogna Gawrońska It's still the most festive looking thing i like. My beloved blue-and-bright red fidget spinner. I really can't explain my weird attachment to it any other way; i generally tend to like the item arts, maybe it's the collector brain, maybe it's because after Homecoming and most of the expansion sets since later 2019 onwards, these base set trinket adjacent arts became more prominent to me among a lot of new, more dramatic and bleak character and scenery art.

19: Ceremonial Dagger by Katarzyna Bekus The entire set of strategem arts from Merchants of Ofir is honestly packed, but the dagger is the one i found myself putting in my in-game profile the most. Maybe it's the item hoarder brain again, maybe it's the color scheme i find relatable if that makes sense, most likely it's the premium helping a bunch to make that choice too. The background weirdly fascinates me. Does it have anything to do with The Spiral? I have never attempted to really assign any logical meaning to the strategem arts, they're clearly more symbolic than anything, but it still makes you wonder.

18: Ard Gaeth by Katarzyna Bekus Somewhat related, here's another piece of wonky multiverse lore. And once again, it's the color that first grabs attention; the contrast of teal and this dusty red. Then one starts realizing the implied size and scope, the birds help with that, apart from being a cute composition detail. The shattery effect makes it look volatile, unstable, dangerous. Ominous. Which ultimately makes it fit with the rest of the Wild Hunt archetype in more than just lore.

17: Coup de Grâce by Lorenzo Mastroianni There are two wolves in me, one loves bright colors, the other actually enjoys a lot of the bleaker scenes. Although to be fair, Lorenzo Mastroianni is a big contributor to that. And it's no wonder, when he casually drops stuff like this. It's almost symbolic, lot less than strategems but certainly more than other, straightforward "war sucks" Gwent art. How do you visually represent something sad in a way that makes it hard to look away not just because of the tragedy but because of the beauty put into making that image? You ask Lorenzo Mastroianni, the modern classical artist, to do it.

16: Viper Witcher by Valeriy Vegera I once described Valeriy's art as "where Lorenzo uses a tight color palette, he uses every pencil in the case". This one is perhaps not as obvious an example, the whole piece has a very unified atmosphere especially from afar, but still, there are so many colors especially in textiles and skin. They're harder to register sometimes but it's how Valeriy does texture and shading. And somehow, he bridges the bleak and the colorful world too. Admittedly, this card also had to be here because mr. Viper is my son, and the voicelines are done by an actor with the nicest, smoothest bass i've heard since Peter Steele.

15: Naglfar's Crew by Anton Nazarenko I was surprised by how much i ended up liking this one. It's the implications, i think; enchanted to laboriously upkeep this monster of a ship, this 'and if you see it emerge from a breach in the sky, you know you're fucked' symbol of death and decay. It's dark in a way i find compelling, i guess.

14: Serpent Trap by Marta Dettlaff Back to the bright ones, i liked this art ever since i discovered it as Nature's Gift in post-Midwinter beta. The card saw play in Scoia'tael spell decks, and to me it became linked to Francesca Findabair for their shared spectral snake thing. But that all aside, the art is just so pretty. Vibrant, yet not oversaturated. And like the item arts, needed to balance out the cool and badass and the dramatic and tragic. Looking at it now, another point comes to mind; it's still grounded? The way Gwent art at large is grounded compared to other card games. Like it's not trying so hard (both this piece and the game's art in general). That's refreshing.

13: Chort by Bartłomiej Gaweł It reminds me of the first game's main menu. The Witcher 1 main menu is, to me, one of the most accurate representations of this universe, its atmosphere. Even if the "you kill cows, you get ambushed by the fucking baphomet" is a meme game mechanic, something about it is...witchery. Superstition, folk legends, and ultimately, monsters. Or that's my takeaway, anyway. But the Chort art, beside being on the more rare side in-game, has always weirdly drawn me in.

12. Oneiromancy by Lorenzo Mastroianni This was the Novigrad expansion key art before they turned it into a card, and i sure am glad they did. Lorenzo can get a bit weird, as a treat, someone said. Are they Condwiramurs and Corinne? Possibly! But i'll abstain from the schizo theories now. It's a gorgeous, well composed and executed surrealist piece. Inception if it had strong palpable atmosphere.

Denis Villeneuve > Christopher Nolan. but Lorenzo beats both

11: Funeral Boat by, you guessed it, Lorenzo Mastroianni One final yippee for the last card set. And my god it's beautiful. Tight composition can get surprisingly hard to coordinate and make decisions for, but this is so well-balanced. The left end of the boat is closer to the frame, but right side has the most noticeable color, the character's face, and of course the bird to even it out. As if to defend the title i gave him earlier, Lorenzo references Isle of the Dead in a way that, even if symbolic, fits into the universe perfectly. Someone stop me before i start rambling about similar concepts in different mythologies.

10: Dana Méadbh (now the token spawned by Call of Harmony) by Anna Podedworna The most famous Gwent artist enters the list. With a piece made around two, when you think about it very bold choices. The goddess of nature and life, glowing with inhuman light in a black and barren forest. Obscured by thin, bare tree trunks. But to make her emerge and stand out, that was necessary. And it's working wonders. A lot of the Scoia'tael faction is obviously green, all kinds of green, but even a simple choice like making it pop out of black makes the card art stand out among others.

9: Circle of Life by Oleksandr Kozachenko It has everything i usually look for in Gwent art; nature, color, atmosphere. A certain tranquility, perhaps. A little bit of story - the orange badge is the Kerack coat of arms. It's that environmental storytelling thing gamers keep talking about, complementing the character and faction drama of the rest of its card set.

There's a slightly changed, extended version, too, and somehow it's even better.

8: Gezras of Leyda by Bogdan Rezunenko As much as i tend to dunk on Bogdan for having played Blasphemous once and making it his entire personality, Gezras is easily the best school founder card art of the set. Once again, the choice to have these prominent arts on the more symbolic side paid off, and the result is a stalking nocturnal animal out for revenge, backed by a giant image of what simultaneously did him irrepairable harm and gave him the means to defend himself. The premium doesn't disappoint either.

7: Rioghan the Undying by Daniel Valaisis To nobody's surprise, the atmosphere, once again, got me hooked. I love the cold color, the dramatic flow, the big imposing silhouette of a ship in the background. Poor boy is the picture of misery. It's pure melancholy (something not that common in the Skellige faction by the way, which is a point in favor of Funeral Boat too), that i, of course, am inevitably drawn to.

he's just like me fr...

6: Witches' Sabbath by Michal Lisowski Did i craft this card already or not? The realist's complaint towards near-greyscale card art. I share this sentiment, if only for the comedy of it, but with a few notable exceptions, and this piece is the main one. The Robert Eggers comparisons were made already i'm sure, but it really is a take on the last good Witcher 3 quest with a dramatic, more dreamy, or you could say cinematic quality ramped up to 11. Gone is the fanservice present in the game and the unnecessarily grotesque depictions of fatness of other parts of this card set, and what remains is a beautiful, ominous callback to folklore and classical art.

5: Tinboy by Valeriy Vegera This is a baroque painting. The drama. Tinboy doesn't take that scarf off, ever. And here this poor soul is, their last will to live dragging it off him. On purpose? On accident? Probably both. The pattern marking Tinboy as a gang member staining with blood of a victim, something something symbolism. All in Valeriy's signature 'which pencil should i pick up next' style. Underrated piece.

4: Lara Dorren by Toni Muntean They finally got our girl. And once again, despite heartbreak, it's gorgeous. Soft, sweet colors with a necessary hint of melancholy (the lighting suggests it's sunset?), and a pure, painted quality without the need for texture assets. A scene like this is better left a comparatively simple and laid back tribute. Beyond the technicalities, i also really, really applaud Toni for the outfit design. This is the Aen Elle princess, dressed well but for the weather. And the fact her mostly blue clothes with yellow sleeves mirror Cregennan's yellow jerkin with blue details, and her red brooch above the heart might, beside contrasting with the blue, very well reflect his fatal wounds... well. As much as death on card art isn't always done the best, Lara is represented together with that which mattered to her the most. Despite being categorized among the Wild Hunt, she remains herself.

3: Lydia van Bredervoort by Igor Klymenko The joy i felt when this was the art of Lydia they managed to get into the game. It's easily one of the best contest pieces and on par with the best Gwent has to offer - it has mood, and that ever present air of groundedness, realism, and in that, unfortunate tragedy. But similarly to Lara, it shows Lydia being her own person; doing what she loved and was good at without sight of Vilgefortz despite her being known as his ever loyal assistant. Likewise, it doesn't sensantionalize her condition, but references it in a subtle, tasteful, and even clever way. I also love her dress and the overall color palette. Igor understood.

2: Eldain by Anna Podedworna Couldn't help it, this asshole has me in chokehold and he's enjoying it. In my defense, this piece highlights everything Anna is known for, because she's damn good at it. Incredibly sharp main subject of the piece contrasted against a blurry background, which allows for insane details like the strings extending from the top of the lute. To add more fun to it, Eldain isn't even in the absolute foreground, but the piece is still composed smart, so he remains the main focus. His silly red collar on mostly green helps. On top of all that, the art tells a little story, something Anna often does too, and in this case it delightfully sums Eldain up. It's also the best premium in the game.

look at his little red ears from sitting against the sun aww

Honorable mention: Lake Guardian by Anton Nazarenko Like the following #1, this card has sentimental value to me as my second card reveal and artwork i made my best emote of. It was a perfect match, bird gals and all. It's a Sirin, bringing in a more obscure but not unwelcome mythology reference to the universe. And I love her vibrant, marble-like eyes.

1: Dol Blathanna Sentry by Lorenzo Mastroianni ...remains my favourite card art since that fateful day sometime in January 2018. I was just discovering what there was to know about Witcher, downloading Gwent in the first place out of need for more content as i was slowly reading through the first book. Gwent has done a lot to explore and build on this universe, and it has helped me contextualize a lot of things early on. I remember scrolling through the deckbuilder, seeing this art, and being struck by its mood, this aura of secret and wonder. "Oh, so this is what Dol Blathanna looks like..." It's quintessential older Lorenzo. Very much admitted brush work, fog, tight color palette. The little specks of blue in flowers and face paint work just right. Maybe it's a reference to Arthurian myth and Avalon, maybe to Greek myth and Hades, or maybe, as is often the case and was the case later (or earlier in this list), both. It spoke to me and my sense of wonder back then. It speaks to me when i search for comfort now.

now, time to tear Karol Bem to shreds in the top 20 least favourites xd

#shut up elis #the witcher #gwent: the witcher card game #fingers crossed tungle doesn't obliterate the links

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ladydeadrabbit · 10 months

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Bitter, Evil Hearts [Eskel]

Summary: "Unfortunately you are wrong, Ser dwarf. Tonight will be different. Tonight I shall sing a fresh new ballad about not Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, or even Cirilla, the princess of Cintra- but tonight, I shall tell you a story of Esmeray of Carsten and Eskel the Witcher- another couple bound by destiny and fate and heroic justice! Our story begins long before the Great War, decades before Geralt ever even met Yennefer or claimed his Child Surprise. In fact, this story begins long before Geralt is ever even contracted to save Princess Adda. And its title: 'Bitter, Evil Hearts.'"

Notes: Like all of my fic's that I publish on here- I originally had this fic published on Quotev. It's written to somewhat be in the format of a one-shot series, but each chapter is pretty much connected to the other. Unlike on Quotev, however, I will be combining a lot of the chapters together so they will be much longer than the og story. Basically, each chapter will either be based on a specific event from either the game series or the books- so if you are a Netflix-only witcher fan, this fic is definitely not for you.

Chapter 1

'Verily I say unto you, the era of the sword and axe is nigh, the era of the wolf's blizzard. The Time of the White Chill and the White Light is nigh, the Time of Madness and the Time of Contempt: Tedd Deirea'dh, the Time of End. The world will die amidst frost and be reborn with the new sun. It will be reborn of the Elder Blood, of Heh Ichaer, of the seed that has been sown. A seed which will not sprout but will burst into flame.

Ess'tuath esse! Thus it shall be! Watch for the sighs! What signs these shall be, I say unto you: first the earth will flow with the blood of Aen Seidre, the Blood of Elves...'

--Aen Ithlinnespeath, Ithlinne Aegliaep Aevemien's prophecy

"Master Dandelion, Master Dandelion! You promised us a ballad!" A little girl with bright red hair chirped excitedly upon seeing the famed poet getting up from his seat- where he previously was playing a game of dice with a coupe of dwarves. The little girl, somehow keeping up with the poet's long strides, looked up at him expectantly.

Dandelion, like most poets, was tall, lanky, and pale- adorned with only the finest silks and extravagant embroidery.

"Yes, yes! Of battles and brave warriors!" Another child called this time a little boy, from a table over.

"-Of sorceresses and magic!" The same little red-headed girl chimed in as the poet reached the far end of the tavern that had a small stage next to a hearth alight with flame.

"-Of unrequited love!" Dandelion added upon reaching said stage and swiveling around on the heels of his boots to face the small crowd that had begun to gather.

"Silence, brats! You've not been in this world for long, so it is no surprise your heads are hollow," a bald dwarf with a beard that reached his knickers yelled at the children. Dandelion did not know said dwarf, but had just finished playing a round of dice with him and found him rather pleasing to be around- most dwarves usually were, anyhow. "This is Dandelion, friend and companion of Geralt of Rivia! Who might he sing of if not the famed witcher..."

"Unfortunately you are wrong, Sir dwarf. Tonight will be different. Tonight I shall sing a fresh new ballad about not Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, or even Cirilla, the princess of Cintra- but tonight, I shall tell you a story of Esmeray of Carsten and Eskel the witcher- another couple bound by destiny and fate and heroic justice! Our story begins long before the Great War, decades before Geralt ever dreamed he would be famous- no, this story happens before Geralt ever even met Yennefer, or claimed his Child Surprise. In fact, this story begins long before Geralt is ever even contracted to save Princess Adda. And its title is: 'Bitter, Evil Hearts.'

"In the fall of 1232, our beloved Witcher Geralt decided to return early to Kaer Morhen, fearing the quick advent of winter," the poet went on. "The Witcher was angry. The final stretch through northern Kaedwen was usually calm. But not this time...he was twice ambushed by bandits. Then one night wolves attacked and killed his horse- only being added at the last minute by the sorceress Esmeray of Carsten, who Geralt had learned to be Eskel's lover on her way up to Kaer Morhen herself.

"And although the help and company of the sorceress were appreciated, Geralt had grown accustomed to the kindly grey mare he had traditionally christened Roach, and it was because of that fact that the Witcher remained bitter and silent for the rest of their travel up to Kaer Morhen. And to make matters worse, at the foot of Kaer Morhen the two encountered a camp.

"Like all witchers, he believed the fingers of one hand would suffice to count the people who knew the way to the witchers' fortress- Esmeray being an exception. Geralt guessed Eskel had decided this winter, of all winters, to introduce his lover to the rest of the family. And oh, what a time to introduce her to the rest...."

000

It came as no surprise to Geralt that Eskel found Esmeray attractive. She was tall, almost as tall as Geralt himself, and thin- but a healthy sort of thin; with long, straight auburn-red hair that went into a braid down her back. Matched up with milky-white skin and hazel-green eyes. Geralt would've been lying to himself if he said he didn't like the way the shadows of the early morning sun ran down smoothly over her high cheekbones and the hollowness of her jaw- or the way her dark, narrow eyebrows raised or pinched together to convey her emotions as she talked-

But Geralt refused even her pleasant company to lighten his sour mood. Oh no, the witcher was dead set on being bitter. Call him petty, but he had just lost his mare.

"Is that a camp?" Esmeray's voice broke through the witcher's train of thoughts like a needle in a haystack- no wait, that analogy didn't make any sense-

"Huh?" Geralt dumbly questioned before following Esmeray's outstretched finger with his eyes- and sure enough, there was a rather large camp of what looked to be Kaedwen Soldiers camped out near the bank of the river the two found themselves traveling along. "What the hell?" Geralt muttered as his yellow gaze bored into the heads of the soldiers going to and fo.

"Listen," Esmeray reached over and grabbed Geralt by his forearm. "Those are Kaedweny soldiers, and I'm not sure what they want, but I think you should tell them to leave. This forest is private property, no?" Geralt only grunted in response before trudging his way up to the camp- Esmeray lingering some ways behind him with her mare, Elara; who was a beautiful dirty-grey horse in a lavish saddle.

"Perhaps we should return to Caingorn. I have no desire to perish in this wilderness forsaken by the gods..."

Geralt heard a man curse and complain- 'Glad I'm not the only one in a bad mood'- and looked to see a young nobleman dressed by a woman adorned in a tight dress and heavy makeup.

Geralt felt his medallion vibrate, and seeing how far away Esmeray was, he knew it wasn't because of her. The woman with heavy makeup next to the nobleman must've been a sorceress herself.

"Silence, Merwin. They are but wolves," the sorceress scolded the nobleman, now known as 'Merwin.'

"Wolves that fearlessly attack an encampment thick with campfires. I ask your forgiveness, mistress, but these are 'but' wolves like I am but an elven showgirl," a heavy-set dwarf grunted from beside the sorceress; and Geralt, indeed, heard wolves in the distance. Probably the same little bastards who killed Roach-

"Did anyone ask for your opinion, mister Bringgs? No? Then start doing what you are being paid for, and keep your hopelessly cowardly opinions to yourself. We would all be safe if your boys manned their stations instead of constantly playing dice while bathing in drink. Now take away this corpse before its stench fills my tent," the sorceress bitched.

"Cane I ask what happened?" Geralt finally spoke up from the sidelines, startling the group. They must've not known he was there, blasted witcher foot-falls-

"Wolves killed the boy...Nothing unusual about it happening in the camp...It's commonly known that wolves, the cursed beasts, love flames so much they'd bathe in them if they could," the dwarf, Bringgs, answered.

"Enough, Bringgs. Who are you, sir?" Merwin glared at Geralt, crossing his thin arms over his doublet.

"Geralt of Rivia, Witcher."

"And that?" Merwin nodded in the direction behind Geralt and said witcher turned to find Esmeray coming up with Elara in tow.

"Is that? It is! That's Esmeray of Carsten!" The sorceress squawked in a tune far too early in the morning to be using. "But- Ewww! What is she wearing?" The sorceress crinkled her powdered nose as Esmeray finally came to light.

It was still too early in the morning for there to be good lighting- the sun only just now peaking over the mountainside shading the group.

"-In any case!" Merwin cut in. "I am prince Merwin Ademegn of Aard Carriagh. Kind of you to visit, finally. We've been awaiting your response all day."

"Response?" Esmeray cocked one of her beautifully dark eyebrows as she came to a halt beside Geralt- her fingers still gripping the reins.

"Well hello to you too," the sorceress smiled wickedly as Esmeray's eyes widened.

"Sabrina-?!"

'Sabrina,' as Esmeray had called her, laughed before waving away Esmeray's shock at seeing her.

"Friend of yours?" Geralt turned to the ginger sorceress.

"Go on now, Esmeray, introduce us," Sabrina's perfect smile widened.

"Oh- right. Geralt, this is Sabrina Glevissig, sorceress and adviser to King Henselt....we actually went to school together, for a time," Esmeray explained. "But never mind that, what are you doing here, Sabrina?"

"I could ask you the same. Shouldn't you be in Tretogor running errands for Philippa?"

Geralt felt tension grow between the sorceresses, and one glance at Merwin told him he felt the same.

"-But anyhow...Come see me at my tent..." Sabrina's brow eyes trailed over to the bald prince. "Merwin, I assume you won't mind my handling this matter?"

"No, though I will want to know what you agree," the prince answered.

Sabrina nodded to the prince before turning on her heel and rounding into her tent, but before Geralt could follow, Esmeray drew the witcher off to the side.

"Geralt- I'm not sure what Sabrina wants or is doing here, but whatever the case- be on guard. Sabrina is not to be trusted."

"Are you not coming with?" Geralt furrowed his brows at the sorceress.

"No," Esmeray clenched her jaw; shooting a glare at the large blue tent Sabrina had gone into. "I came here to visit Eskel and to take a vacation away from work- Sabrina is clearly here to stick her nose where it doesn't belong. Find out what she wants and then meet me up at Kaer Morhen."

"Do the others know you're coming?"

"Eskel invited me, I'd sure hope he'd at least told Vesemer," Esmeray shrugged before glancing over to Geralt. With a quick goodbye, the two parted ways temporarily.

As soon as Geralt had disappeared from Esmeray's field of vision, the sorceress continued along the bank of the river until the massive fortress came into view.

Kaer Morhen was unlike anything the mage had seen before. Like a stacked cake, the stone fortress wall's loomed and layered over each other until they seemingly touched the skies above. The sun had now fully risen and for a long time, Esmeray just stood there slack-jawed at the sight before her.

At least, until she was rudely interrupted.

"Welcome to Mistress Sabrina's tent," a flamboyant blonde-headed man greeted Geralt as the Witcher stepped inside the seemingly modern tent- only to see that it was much larger on the side. The inside of that tent held a room that looked like it had been cut out of a castle- with stone walls, marble flooring, and even a stained glass window.

"In case you're wondering, this is an illusion," Sabrina called from her place at a vanity mirror.

Unlike Esmeray, Sabrina had brown locks of hair cropped just below her ears- which she held back with a headband similar to the one Geralt usually wore. The sorceress wore a tight, short red dress with black pin-stripes and a pair of long gloves to match her belt.

"Everything here's an illusion?" Geralt raised a brow.

"Yes. But, my dear Witcher, it's an illusion of rare quality. In fact, it barely differs from reality."

"If that's the case, then I wished Esmeray would've conjured something like this up when we camped out together last night."

"Yes, well...Esmeray is a different breed of the sorceress," Sabrina seemed to scowl as she spoke this statement. "No matter. I assume you're returning to Kaer MOrhen for the winter? And what of Esmeray? Is she, too, returning with you this winter? I didn't know witchers took on lovers, y'know, with you not being able to feel emotions and all...."

"You're only half correct. I and Esmeray are returning to Kaer Morhen for the winter, though, we're not a couple."

'Though I wished we were,' Geralt almost muttered.

Sabrina smiled at this statement and stood from her place in the mirror before making her way over to the witcher.

Once more, Geralt found himself enthralled by the gaze of another beautiful sorceress- not that he planned on sleeping with either. Although, if he had his way...

"Right, enough small talk, we have important business to discuss," Sabrina snapped Geralt from his daydream. "You've heard of the Curse of the Black Sun, witcher?"

"The curse of the mad mage Eltibald. I believe he started the whole mess that led to several dozen nobly born women being murdered or imprisoned in towers," Geralt nodded, his thoughts traveling to his first love...

"Eltibald was no madman, and there is no doubt the 'women' were not entirely normal," Sabrina defended haughtily.

"Madness, normality- it's a path steeped in reality. Tell me something specific."

"Autopsies were performed. The mutations witchers undergo are but a minor, clinical operation compared to those caused by the Curse of the Black Sun. The skulls and spines of these girls contained red sponges of some kind. Their internal organs were in disarray, some missing altogether. Everything was covered in moving cilia and pink and blue meat scraps. What say you to that?"

"Nothing. I've seen humans with eagle talons instead of hands, with wolf fangs and eyes. People with additional joints. All products of mages fumbling with magic. It's no proof of a curse. We digress. Why are you here?" Geralt was suddenly feeling very jealous of Esmeray right now. At the moment, she's probably already at Kaer Morhen unpacking her things, getting ready for a hot bath.....while Geralt had to stand around talking to some lunatic with too much makeup.

"A girl affected by the Curse of the Black Sun is inside Kaer Morhen. Princess Deidre Ademeyn, elder sister of Merwin."

"What do I have to do with this?"

"Don't play the fool. That girl is a serious threat to you. Surrender her to me and no one will get hurt," the sorceress demanded with her hands on her hips.

"I'll think about it," Geralt muttered before exiting the tent- only to be immediately stopped by prince Merwin.

"I see you have spoken to miss Sabrina. However, I head this expedition, remember that," the prince taunted.

"I will," Geralt rolled his eyes.

"Are you able to read?"

"I am."

"Then read this scroll," the prince then pulled a parchment from the inside of his blue doublet and handed it over to Geralt.

"To my barons, vassals, and all free subjects..." Geralt looked up from the paper and glared at the prince.

"Go on, go on," the prince urged.

"Let it be known far, wide and by all, that I hereby declare Merwin of Caingorn to be our loyal and trusted servant, and to be loved by us, this rendering all who cause him grief liable to incur our Royal wrath. Henselt, King of Kaedwen."

"Good enough. Understood?"

"Indeed, though 'grief' is spelled differently," Geralt said smugly as he kept his eyes on the paper.

"I see you are quick. So you accept that if the witchers wish to travel freely and unmolested about Kaedwen, they should not cause me grief, no matter how the term is spelled," the prince snatched the paper out of Geralt's gloved fingers.

"You don't seem like anyone's causing you grief," Geralt crossed his well-built arms over each other. A reminder that he was a skilled warrior where the prince was....well...a prince.

"Not you, no, but that may change. And my patience has its limits."

"Riiight, well I'll be going then," not wasting another second, Geralt turned his back to the prince and made his way up to Kaer Morhen. Maybe if he spoke to Vesemir he could get more insight as to what was going on exactly...

'Verily, there is nothing so hideous as the monsters, so contrary to nature, known as witchers for they are the offspring of foul sorcery and devilry. They are rogues without virtue, conscience, or scruple, true diabolic creations, fit only for killing. There is no place amidst honest men for such as they.

And Kaer Morhen, where these infamous beings nestle, where they perform their foul practices, must be wiped from the surface of this earth, and all trace of it strewn with salt and saltpeter.'

--Anonymous, Monstrum, or Description of the Witcher

Esmeray was pissed- no, inraged- no, pissed; and all because of the stupid witcher in front of her.

The redhead sheathed at the man who would not let her cross the river.

"I said beat it," the young witcher, who Esmeray assumed through context clues to be Lambert.

"Didn't you hear me the first time! I'm a guest! I was invited here by Eskel!" The sorceress continued to pout.

After Geralt had gone into the tent to speak to Sabrina, Esmeray and her steed, Elara, attempted to make their way up to Kaer Morhen....only to be stopped before she could even cross the bridge by (who she now assumed) Lambert.

Esmeray had heard plentiful stories of the youngest witcher from Eskel, and in almost all of them, he was immature, quick to anger, and mouthy. All three are a combination of things Esmeray hated in a man.

Although supposedly young, Lambert didn't look much of it. Sure, his face was like that of a toddler, but his dark hair seemed to already be receding into that of a widow's peak. On top of that, he held the gaze of a lame duck.

"Lambert, quit being an ass and let her pass," came the familiar voice of Geralt, and Esmeray turned to find said witcher approaching.

'Geralt's already done talking to Sabrina? Damn. How long have I been standing here arguing with Lambert?'

"Hey, wolf," Lambert greeted with a quick change of attitude. "You know this wench?"

"Yes, now quit being an ass and let her pass."

At Geralt's demand, the now-confirmed Lambert sidestepped and allowed the sorceress to pass- of course, not before she turned back to Geralt.

"Thank you, Geralt. Please come speak to me once you're done here. I wish to know what Sabrina had to say."

Geralt gave a nod to the sorceress as he watched her and her mare trudge through the shallow river and across to the other side.

"So, who else are we to expect for this winter?" Lambert asked, turning back to face the other wolf school witcher.

"I was just about to ask the same."

"From what I know, Vesemir and Eskel...plus a few others...." Lambert's yellow cat-like gaze slid over from Geralt to glare at the campsite set up a few hundred yards from them.

"I know. I've been to their camp. What are you doing here, though?"

"Making sure those bastards stay out of Kaer Morhen- thought that wench that came through here was one of them, trying to make an excuse to get to our base."

"Have any of them tried to make excuses to get through here like that before?"

"A couple of pompous pricks showed up with an escort of dwarf mercenaries. Obviously, I couldn't let them pass- but other than that, no, they haven't tried something as elaborate as that yet, but you can never be too careful. Especially around those sorceress types. Are you sure we can trust her?"

"She aided me against a pack of wolves, and on top of that, she showed me a letter addressed to her from Eskel inviting her here. I think I know my own brother's handwriting. In any case, you are aware that those 'pompous pricks' are carrying a letter of safe conduct from King Henselt?"

"Not interested," Lambert shrugged. "This is Kaer Morhen, royal edicts mean nothing here."

"I hope that's not how you put it to him."

"Didn't have a chance to. The archespores sprouted first, quite a few seem to have planted roots over the summer, I always thought they grew on the graves of the murdered. Some bad wind must've carried the spores to the valley. It's full of them now."

"Damnit, Lambert!" Geralt raised his voice. "I wish you would've told me that before I let Esmeray cross! What if she runs into them before she reaches Kaer Morhen? You know if she gets hurt Eskel will have our heads!"

"Calm down wolf," Lembert raised his arms up in defense. "She's a big girl, I'm sure she'll be fine," Lambert laughed but Geralt didn't hear- he was already storming his way through the water and onto the other side.

Although Kaer Morhen was visible from where he stood- the witcher still needed to go through a small patch of wood to reach the Keep. He could only hope that the kind sorceress hadn't run into too much trouble on her way up there.

000

When Geralt finally got up to Kaer Morhen, the wolf was greeted by the oldest known witcher (and to whom he saw a father) Vesemir.

"Greetings, Geralt. Good thing you're here," the old witcher said.

Vesemir, like many of the other witchers, was tall and well-built- although worn from age, the Witcher didn't have any visible scars on his face. Though, what he did have on his face was a ridiculous handlebar mustache that encased his entire upper lip.

"Greetings," Geralt said in turn.

"How's the path?" Vesemir attempted to make light conversation- Witchers were never known for being conversationalists.

"Tolerable, nothing groundbreaking. What is going on here, Vesemir? And have you seen Esmeray?"

Vesemir let out a long drawn-out sigh.

"We've got a bit of a problem. The princess of Caingorn arrived two days ago claiming her envious brother and an evil sorceress were pursuing her. She's asked for our protection- as for Esmeray, she's up in the tower setting up her room."

"Good. I was worried that she'd run into trouble on her way up here. But this princess....she's got her castles all wrong. No knights in shining armor here."

"She was in bad shape, hungry, cold. We didn't have the heart to drive her off."

'Typical. Vesemir's heart has always been too big for his own good...Now, look what we're dealing with!' Geralt thought with a roll of his eyes.

"And Eskel has been acting strange..." Vesemir continued, entirely oblivious to Geralt's sass. "I made him contact Esmeray, see if she could...oh, I don't know, help in some way? The princess fell asleep with her pack of dogs in the courtyard. Tried to get her a bed but she said she preferred to sleep outside. Before she went to bed she said one more thing- that one cannot flee one's fate."

Geralt listened attentively to the old man's words as he continued.

"Later, Eskel told me a story. Some 20 years ago he saved the prince of Caingorn's life. He called the Law of Surprise, and as they say, destiny proved fortunate- unbeknownst to the prince, his wife was with child....."

"I'm not sure that was entirely fortunate...." Geralt muttered.

"So you've heard of the curse...In any case, on a day when the sky was dark as night at high moon, the princess gave birth to a girl," Vesemir crossed his arms and leaned his back against one of the stone pillars at the entrance of Kaer Morhen. "As far as I know, Eskel never returned to claim the child promised him by the prince. For some reason, ever since then he's always taken the long way around Caingorn. So, now we need to deal with the brother of Eskel's unexpected child, a group of mercenaries, and a sorceress bent on dissecting the woman she suspects of being a mutant. As if that's not enough, the brother carried a letter of safe conduct from King Henselt himself, so we can hardly just drive them all away."

"I know, so what do we do?"

"My advice? Talk to Eskel, she's his surprise. We'll meet back at the ford Lambert is guarding. Think it through, wolf, I'll want to hear your opinion."

"Fine," Geralt nodded. First and foremost, he decided in his mind, he was going to speak with Esmeray before going to Eskel.

When Geralt finally made it to the room in the tower, he found Esmeray in the midst of doing her makeup.

"Well Geralt," Esmeray said, applying dark red lipstick to her lips. "What is it exactly that Sabrina so eagerly wanted to speak to you about? Does it have something to do with that Deadra girl?" She turned around from her vanity to face Geralt.

"Yes. Deadra is the princess of Caingorn and, supposedly, she was born under the black sun. Sabrina wishes for us to hand her over to them so that they might dissect her-"

"And so Deadra thought to find refuge here with Eskel," Esmeray finished.

"So you already know Deadra is Eskel's child surprise, then?" The witcher raised a brow as he watched the sorceress take a stand from her place at the vanity mirror.

Esmeray, not bathed and clean, wearing a long, elegant dark green velvet dress with puffy red sleeves and collar. {Like this, only a dark green}

"Of course. I've known of Deadra for some time now. I am, after all, Eskel's lover. He confided in me many issues that have troubled him- including the surprise child he was afraid to claim."

"And what do you think of that? Of him not coming back for her?"

Esmeray simply shrugged.

"I thought nothing of it, of course. I am a sorceress, Geralt, but I'm not crazy. I don't believe in fate or destiny.....although, now that Deadra is here...I really should have pushed Eskel a bit harder in going back to Caingorn. Maybe then none of this would be happening," Esmeray's hazel eyes dropped to the floors before rising back up to meet Geralt's. "Speaking of which, have you seen Eskel?"

"No, I haven't, but if I know Eskel- he's avoiding the issue altogether and hiding out somewhere. I'll go ask Vesemire, you should probably go talk to this....'Deidre' girl. See what she's all about."

Esmeray nodded in agreement.

"Sounds like a plan."

'Intolerance and superstition has always been the domain of the more stupid amongst the common folk and, I conjecture, will never be uprooted, for they are as eternal as stupidity itself. There, where today seas surge, will one day be deserts. But stupidity will remain stupidity.'

--Nicodemus de Boot, Meditations on Life, Happiness and Prosperity

Deidre was a simple-looking girl with a wide face, square nose, and unplucked eyebrow; Esmeray initially took note of upon finding the girl asleep amongst a pile of hay near the horse stables. Next, she took note of the fact that the 'girl' was not much of a girl anymore. Despite her lack of curves, it was clear to Esmeray that Deidre had to have been somewhere close or around the age of 18 or 19.

Throwing the girl only one more glance, Esmeray decided she had had enough of the sight before her and cleared her throat- startling the girl in the hay out of her slumber.

"Oh! Greetings, Esmeray. I'm Deidre. Visemir spoke of you," Deidre said, shooting up and shaking the hay from her cropped blond hair- that did little justice to her wide face.

"I've heard a few things about you too...." Esmeray replied, putting on a bit of a classic sorceress air- which wasn't something she entirely liked to do, but if Deidre was going to be staying with them, Esmeray was sure going to teach her a thing or two about being a lady.

"If you mean from that lying shrew Glevissig-"

"Calm down," Esmeray raised a hand. "I don't intend to judge based on rumors."

"Then you are to interrogate me?" Deidra glared at the sorceress.

"Call it an interview, if it makes you feel better- but I'm just trying to figure out a way to resolve the situation. Believe me, I want Sabrina gone just as much as you do."

Deidra seemed to relax a little at this statement and waited patiently for the red-headed sorceress to continue.

"What do you want from Eskel?"

"Are you jealous?" The girl taunted with a smirk.

"Just answer the damn question," Esmeray was not amused by any of this. Not even five minutes with the girl and she was already getting on her nerves.

'How on Earth am I going to last a winter with this girl?' Esmeray thought to herself.

"I want him to stop fleeing from his destiny," Deidre answered plainly.

"And you think his destiny lies with you?" Esmeray raised a brow.

"As opposed to you, yes."

"Alright then....how did you find Kaer Morhen?"

"I always know where Eskel is, unlike you, apparently. I merely need to think about him."

Esmeray glared at the girl at this statement.

'Ohhh yeah, this is gonna be a looooong winter,' Esmeray continued to think bitterly to herself.

"Last question and I'll be out of your hair. Deidre, do you know what Sabrina and your brother want from you exactly? Geralt has told me a little, but I'm still confused about the whole ordeal."

"Obviously," Deidra rolled her eyes, "Sabrina wants to place my sweet little brother on the throne of Caingorn. My brother, who is entirely subservient to her, and who as the prince of Caingorn will have a vote on King Henselt-s council-"

"Enough politics, I want something else."

"Alright, then..." Deidre took a deep breath, and she spoke again, she seemed somewhat....younger. More innocent. More like a victim- which Esmeray had no doubt she was. "Sabrina believes me to be cursed, tainted in my mother's very womb. She believes me to be a monster."

Despite the clear rift between the two women, Esmeray reached out and placed a gentle hand on the shorter girl's upper arm.

"I want to hear your side of the story."

Deidre met Esmeray's eyes.

"I was 19 and happy when Sabrina showed up at the castle. My father, who always preferred Merwin, was old and ill by this time, so he could no longer bother me. My brother had been away at King Henselt's court and I could handle most of the courtiers. I was at a tender age and fell in love. His name was Roben. I even considered a morganite marriage....girlish fantasy...."

Esmeray listened carefully.

"Sabrina arrived with my brother, whom she already had on a short leash. She observed me, interrogated servants, and tested the situation. My father's company of Knights treated me like a daughter. I had always liked hunting and took part in manhunts for bandits. She needed proof, some spectacular way to defame me."

"And in your carelessness, you provided her with that proof," Esmeray put two and two together.

Deidre nodded and continued.

"Sabrina decided to provoke me. She seduced Roben using magic so powerful that his mind became confused. He suddenly developed an intense fear of animals, especially of the dogs he bred...I wanted to help him....it was then I discovered that mages found it hard to cast spells in my presence, and that spells previously cast gradually subsided if I was near. I went to the small chamber Roben inhabited just above the kennel....and I found Sabrina there...I admit I was enraged, haunted to tear her apart, but she was too quick. The hag flew out the window on a broom...Roben was left drooling, whimpering like a child.

"Within an hour he had ceased gibbering, and within two he understood what the witch had done to him. I thought all was in order and I could leave him. I wished to settle the score with her and entered the castle. I know not what happened, but the spell grasped Roben once more as soon as I was gone. He began feverishly seeking Sabrina. In his wildness, he entered a pen occupied by a very aggressive hunting hound."

"Did he survive?"

"Yes, though mentally he became a two-year-old child, a child that feared animals intensely...Sabrina blamed the accident on me. I swore then that I would kill her. I carry a blade, lest I get the opportunity to use it."

"I understand, thank you for sharing this info with me, Deidra, and....you're more than welcome to stay with me once we get this situation sorted out. I have a cozy place in Oxenfurt."

For the first time since their meeting, Deidra smiled at the older woman, and Esmeray saw not an ugly girl- but a brave young woman.

Once Esmeray was done speaking to Deidra, she only briefly spoke with Geralt in regard to where Eskel was. And it was there at the mouth of Kaer Morhen that it was decided that and agreed upon for Esmeray to teleport to the cave in which Eskel hid in [she briefly passed it on her way up to Kaer Morhen, so she knew where it was located] to speak to him while Geralt would go and deal with Sabrina and Deidre's brother, see if they could come to an understanding.

000

Bones of some sort greeted Esmeray's heeled feet at the mouth of the cave. She took a shape breath at the sight but continued along the old miner tracks that ran into the dark damp place.

From what Esmeray knew of the place, the mine near Kaer Morhen was at least as old as the fortress. Once, probably, a rich source of iron, ore, and what-have-you now a ruin. Esmeray seemed to have briefly recalled a memory of Eskel telling her that the witchers sometimes used the tunnels to gather ingredients for their witcher potions- of course, when pressed as to what ingredients they found down there, Eskel would change the subject.

Eskel was not afraid to shed light on his life as a witcher and did so openly with Esmeray, but when it came to the secrets of the witchers potions- it was his duty as a witcher to keep those to himself, not even with his own lover would he peep.

It did not, thankfully, take Esmeray long to find Eskel once in the cave. Her lover must've heard or smelled her coming, for she found him waiting expectantly near a small campfire.

"Esmeray," he called her over, and once she was near, he did not hesitate to pull her into a kiss.

Esmeray's lover, Eskel, had to have been around 6'foot something, for he stood at least a few inches taller than Esmeray herself [who was already quite a tall woman]. The sorceress rested her filed nails on Eskel's wide chest before dragging them along his broad shoulders and into his dark locks. Of course, Eskel was as pale as the other witchers, but unlike them, he had a sort of natural rose-tone to his found nose and cheeks.

Eskel wore, on this fine evening, a black jerkin with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a pair of matching trousers, and boots that almost reached his knees.

"Eskel, my darling, this is fantastic- and I'm always happy to see you, but we need to talk about Deidre," Esmeray said upon breaking the kiss.

"Can it wait? I haven't seen you in three months," Eskel grunted into the fabric of Esmeray's collar.

"Well....I....suppose Geralt can wait-" Esmeray was pulled into another intimate kiss.

Despite his depressive mood, Eskel's kiss is sweet but greedy, in hot pursuit of a distraction. And a distraction Esmeray was all the willing to give. A moment later, the witcher is in the process of pulling the strings of her corset, one of the many useful tips he had learned over the course of their relationship, and in another moment, Esmeray found the expensive fabric of her dress on the cave floor.

Rather than annoyance or anger, relief floods the sorceress when Eskel's calloused hands start kneading her breasts- but it's not enough, and so she shakes the witcher's hands off and begins pulling off his jerkin.

Their feverish kisses continue until they're both completely stripped of their clothing and lying on a makeshift bed of said clothes next to the fire. And despite the chilled air of the cave, and the cold hard ground, Esmeray revel's in every moment of it.

000

"Care to tell me something about Deidre now?" Esmeray's voice echoed along the cave walls.

"Ugh....it was about 20 years ago. I rescued Deidre's father from a gang of bobolaks. I must've heard too many of Vesemir's stories about the eternal Law of Surprise...." Eskel's voice trailed off as he nuzzled his nose into the shoulder blades of Esmeray's bareback. Currently, the couple was still in the nude hiding out in the mining tunnel next to the fire.

They've made love for hours and from the entrance of the cave, Esmeray could see the sun setting. They really should get back to Kaer Morhen soon, Esmeray thought.

"The prince, spattered with bobolak blood, looked at me and said: 'you saved my life, witcher. As I am a debtor, say what you wish in return,'' Eskel continued with hesitation. "All I could think of was the famous line: 'you will give me that which you know not that you have! I shall return to Caingorn 6 years from now to see if destiny acted in my favor.' I never went back to caingorn, as you know, but then rumors started circulating about the Curse of the Black Sun, and there was confusion."

"And what do you know about the Curse of the Black Sun?" Esmeray turned over on her side to look at Eskel. Said witcher sitting up from his spot and Esmeray watched with mild fascination as he began to dress.

"I did take an interest in it and even bribed a certain wizard to let me look at documents drafted for the council of mages."

"You know you could've asked for my help, all mages know each other."

Eskel shook his head.

"It was years back before we even met. In any case, it seems the mages screwed up as usual. Which is why Sabrina Glevissig was chosen to examine the princess of Caingorn. It was hatred at first sight, or so I've heard. Something about a guy....."

"Yes, I seem to recall Deidre mentioning a lover..."

"It only got worse. Sabrina concluded she had enough proof to consider Deidre a cursed mutant and to subject her to 'real studies.' As I'm sure you've guessed, Deidre had no intention of being examined, not least because she was a princess. She persuaded several of the prince's warriors to get rid of Sabrina. All hell broke loose at the castle in caingorn. Many died, and there was some priestess among the corpses."

"And that is note-worthy because....?"

"It's not. From what I know, she landed in the wrong place at the wrong time. After it was all over, Deidre fled the castle."

"Which leads the pursuit here and now," Esmeray concluded, standing up from her spot and slipping on her now dirty dress. Normally, she wore light-colored clothes, but she did not regret her decision in wearing the dark green velvet fabric tonight. "We need to start heading back, I sort of left Geralt to deal with the problem. But we still need to decide what to do with Deidre. I believe she's an innocent girl- but she can't hide out here forever, none of you can continue to guard Kaer Morhen."

"I don't know," Eskel sighed. "I understand Vesemir's viewpoint, but I'm not keen on surrendering her to the sorceress. I know she'd meet an unpleasant end."

"She is your child's surprise, Eskel. Even though she's all grown, this is still your call."

"I know, though at this point the matter concerns you as well, we are.....y'know...together."

"I love it when you get all flushed. Fine. I'll consider it, but let's be going now."

Eskel nodded, somewhat relieved he wouldn't be dealing with this entirely on his own, and put out the small campfire before guiding the sorceress out of the dark tunnels.

000

When Esmeray and Eskel finally emerged from the cavern, they found the rest of the witchers by the river bay, and when they approached, Geralt was the first to speak.

"Okay, we're all here, I think it's time we decided on what to do."

"We need to figure out what to do with Deidre and her brother. Eskel wants everyone to say their piece. This concerns our safety and Kaer Morhen. A mistake could cost a great deal," Esmeray was the next to speak.

"I'll start," Vesemir announced. "I think we should stay out of this, meaning we can no longer shelter the girl. The reason is simple: if we meddle and Sabrina informs Henselt, Kaedwen will be off limits to us for decades."

"I don't really care for Deidre," Lambert stated next. "But I detest the fact that some blue blood who rules three coal hills comes here demanding obedience. This is Kaer Morhen, royal authority doesn't extend here. I think we need to drive away the noble and the sorceress."

"What about you Esmeray?" Geralt asked, turning to the red-headed woman.

"Deidre is a grown woman, she can take care of her own- not that I don't feel any sympathy for her, but I think she should come down here and sort matters on her own with her brother. How about you Eskel?"

"I'm torn," the golden-eyed witcher admitted. "I understand Vesemir....on the other hand, I owe the girl, I feel some kind of bond...I'm incapable of being objective. I'd like to hear your opinion, wolf," Eskel turned his gaze to his brother.

"We can't let the sorceress get her hands on the girl. It wouldn't be right," Geralt admitted.

"So what do we do about Sabrina and the nobleman?" Vesemir prompted.

"Deidre must give up her claims. That should satisfy Merwin. And the sorceress, well, she'll have to live with our decision..." Geralt answered.

"Either that or I'll turn her lovely little head into something to place on the mantle," Lambert muttered.

"Lambert, save your morbid lines for later. Let's try to resolve this peacefully," Geralt scolded.

"Alright. Eskel, Geralt, go see our princess. We'll wait for you here," Vesemir ordered.

000

"We've decided to help you," Geralt announced upon finding Deidre pacing back and forth along the path just outside of the Keep.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me," Deidre ceased her pacing and lowered her gaze as the witchers stopped just before her.

"We need to settle things with your brother. You have to go to the camp with us and tell him that you relinquish your claims to the throne and estate," Eskel explained.

"Thus stripping Sabrina of support," Geralt added.

"A high price, but I see no other choice," Deidre nodded, lifting her gaze to meet with Eskel's for the first time.

"That's settled then," Geralt sighed, happy that it was almost all over.

"I'm glad, Deidre, really," Eskel said earnestly.

It did not take nearly as long to get back down the river as before, and when they did, the Witchers and ladies set off immediately to the Kaedweni camp. The soldiers of the camp noticed their approach almost immediately, having been watching them across the river for some time, so by the time they crossed the bank- Merwin and Sabrina were already awaiting them.

"To what do we owe this procession?" The Weasley-looking prince grinned smugly.

"Prince Merwin, there's a way to resolve this peacefully," Esmeray stepped forward. Naturally, as a sorceress, she was used to dealing with royal brats.

"To feed the wolves while saving the sheep," Deidre stepped up next.

"Very well. I shall hear you out," Merwin agreed, gesturing for them to continue.

"Forgetting anyone?" Sabrina emerged from her tent, a furious expression on her face.

"No. This is strictly Merwin's business. We will speak with you too, Sabrina. Later," Geralt, also came to stand next to Esmeray.

"Merwin, I am prepared to relinquish my claim to the throne and the lands of caingorn, I am ready to give up my title as the princess," Deidre explained.

"Unconditionally?" Deidre's brother raised a brow.

"No, but I have only one. You will strike me from your mind. You will cease pursuing me and return home, taking this witch with you."

"Silence, woman!" Sabrina snapped. "Merwin, you must see through this. This is a trick."

"We will draft the necessary documents here and now, witnesses present. All will be clarified," Esmeray defended.

"Merwin, don't believe them. Remember how Roben ended?" Sabrina persisted.

"That was your doing, Glevissig, and your magic!" Deidre bared her teeth at the brunette.

"Merwin, order Bringgs to arrest Deidre. Only then will your title be safe! Without that, you will live in fear, always."

"I shall kill you witch!" Deidre shouted as she drew her blade. The next few moments were all a blur. One moment Esmeray was standing next to Deidre, and the next she found herself cradling Eskel's head on her lap- blood gushing from his face and staining her dress. Her healing magic is basically useless in the presence of Deidre.

000

The entire tavern fell silent. Everyone ceases their movement and chatter to watch and listen to the bard's tale.

Dandelion, knowing full well that all attention was on him, continued- though, with a lot more of a solemn tone than before.

"Eskel's unexpected child, Princess Deidre Ademeyn, born in destiny's shadow....she could have changed her own fate. Abandoned vengeance in favor of forgiveness, demonstrated kindness and humanity...The mercenaries were massacred in the fight at the camp. Was it worth it? Were the death of Nerton Bringgs and his mercenaries truly the lesser evil? No one can know that...In any case, Merwin and Deidre ruled jointly, leading caingorn during the best time in its history. Several years later a large crow arrived at Kaer Morhen carrying a letter bearing the seal of the princess of Caingorn. Eskel threw it into the fire without reading it. And not long after that, the relationship between Eskel and the sorceress, Esmeray of Carsten, fell apart. It wasn't until the arrival of Ciri at Kaer Morhen did Esmeray and Eskel see each other again- but that is a story for another time."

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