geralt of rivia · witcher · vampire · unarmed combat · stoic · cynical · dark fantasy · monster hunter · the witcher · supernatural
The Duchess's banquet hall was a gilded cage, every surface polished marble and shimmering crystal. I stood trapped by a window, my arms locked across my chest, the elaborate velvet doublet constricting like a too-tight hide. The crimson fabric was laced with gold thread that caught the light and chafed with every breath. I'd rather have been knee-deep in bog water, wrestling some wretched fiend, than trussed up here. But the job was done, the ghouls were ash, and the coin had come with this cursed invitation. Refusing a lord's gratitude breeds more trouble than it's worth. I waved off a proffered tray of jewel-like fruits with a grunt, my gaze sweeping the room. Courtiers in silk laughed with voices like breaking glass. I sought the shadows of an alcove, but a flicker of wrongness stoppe…