Chapter 7: Witcher's Dawn
Recruit Tomas – Qarth slums, morning The sun was a pale, watery light, barely peeking over the horizon. The air was cool, the dust settled. The slums of Qarth, a winding, chaotic labyrinth of narrow alleys and crumbling hovels, were filled with the scent of unwashed bodies, rotting garbage, and the perfume of a thousand broken dreams. Adam and Lyra were walking, a silent, watchful duo. They were looking for a new recruit. They were looking for a new Witcher. They were looking for Tomas. A young man, barely a man, but with a fire in his eyes. He was a survivor. He was a fighter. He had the instincts of a Witcher. He just didn't know it yet.
"Inner monologue: Two Witchers, one snake to crush. We're building fast. This isn't a small operation. This is an army. An army of Witchers. An army of monster hunters. An army that will protect her. An army that will get her to the Iron Throne. An army that will end Viserys. Slowly. Painfully. One step at a time. This city is a viper's nest. But I'm a snake charmer. I'll get her to the Iron Throne. And I'll make sure everyone who stands in our way pays a price. A bloody, agonizing price. Starting with this city of thieves and liars."
They found him in a small, cramped hovel, his face a mask of quiet contemplation. He was sharpening a rusty sword, his movements fluid and easy. He was a fighter. He just didn't know it yet.
"You're a legend already," Tomas said, his voice a low, respectful hum. "I've heard the whispers. The Fire-Walker. The man who walks through fire. The man who protects the queen."
Adam gave him a small, grim smile. "Legends train Witchers," he said. "Let's go." He used Aard, a subtle, telekinetic push, to test him. Tomas didn't flinch. He stood his ground, his body a coiled spring, a statue of pure defiance. He was good. He was right about him.
AARD SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: RECRUIT WITCHER, 200 XP.
Adam's lips curled into a small, grim smile. "You've got fire," he said. "I'll make you a Witcher. A hunter of monsters. A guardian of the weak. I'll make you a weapon."
A sudden, high-pitched wail of pain, of surprise, of utter humiliation, came from behind them. Viserys had stumbled, his foot caught in a small puddle, and he had faceplanted, his face a grotesque mask of mud and pain. The guards around them erupted into laughter. Adam grinned. He had used Axii. A subtle, mental compulsion. He had made him confess to the guards, to the world, what he truly was.
AXII SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: HUMILIATE VISERYS, 50 XP.
"Spare me, please!" Viserys shrieked, his voice a frantic, forced confession. "I'm nothing! I'm a joke!" Adam's lips curled into a small, humorless smile. "He's a broken crown now," he muttered under his breath.
Daenerys's Strategy – Qarth palace, noon The palace of the Thirteen was a monument to opulence and excess. The walls were made of polished lapis lazuli, the floors were a shimmering mosaic of mother-of-pearl, and the air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the perfume of a thousand hidden lies. Adam, Daenerys, and their small entourage, a blend of loyal Dothraki, the quiet, watchful Lyra, and now, a new recruit, Tomas, stood before the council of the Thirteen. They were discussing the journey to Qarth. The danger. The rumors. The possibilities. Adam was the one who was guiding the conversation. He was the one who had a plan. A strategy. A purpose. He was the one who had a Witcher's instincts. He felt it on the back of his neck. The prickle of danger. The scent of blood. The sound of a whispered ambush. Assassins. Of course. Viserys's doing. The fool.
"Inner monologue: She's becoming a queen. I'm her shadow. Her strength. She's learning to trust my judgment. The journey to Qarth is dangerous. A nest of vipers. But I'm a snake charmer. And I'll show them who's in charge. I'll make sure she's safe. And I'll get rid of her brother. Slowly. Painfully. One step at a time."
"The eggs need fire," Daenerys said, her voice a whisper, her eyes distant.
Adam's lips curled into a small, grim smile. "And I've got the potions for it," he said, his voice a low hum. "We'll be safe. I'll make sure of it." He had crafted a Black Blood potion, a small, lethal concoction, a cocktail of dark magic and deadly poison. He had it hidden in his bag. A little insurance.
ALCHEMY LEVEL 4, BLACK BLOOD POTION CRAFTED. 150 GOLD USED. 50 XP GAINED.
He used Disguise again, a subtle spell, to make himself blend in with the shadows. He had overheard Viserys's frantic, desperate pleas to Illyrio. He was trying to find a way to get rid of Daenerys. To get his army. His crown. The fool.
DISGUISE SIGN USED. STAMINA: 15/100. QUEST: HUMILIATE VISERYS, 50 XP.
Tomas, who had been listening from a distance, came closer, his face a mask of awe. "You're unstoppable," he said, his voice a breathless whisper. Adam gave him a small, grim smile. "Just getting started," he said.
Qartheen Skirmish – Qarth streets, evening The sun was setting, painting the sky in a fiery, orange hue. The streets of Qarth, a winding, chaotic labyrinth, were filled with the sound of music, laughter, and the low murmur of conversation. Adam, Daenerys, and their small entourage, a blend of loyal Dothraki, the quiet, watchful Lyra, and a new recruit, Tomas, were walking, a small, silent party. They felt it on the back of their necks. The prickle of danger. The scent of blood. The sound of a whispered ambush. Warlocks. Of course. Viserys's doing. The fool.
"Inner monologue: They're getting desperate. They're getting stupid. They're a pathetic, whimpering mess. I'll show them. I'll make them regret the day they were born. For threatening her. For trying to hurt her. For trying to take what isn't theirs. I'll show them what happens when you cross a queen and her Witcher. I'll make them an example. A lesson in pain. A lesson in fear."
They came out of the shadows, a group of three, their faces a grotesque mask of rage. They were armed with daggers and rusty swords. They were looking for a prize. They were looking for a queen. They had found death.
"Warlocks don't scare me," Adam said, his voice a low, gravelly hum, a promise of violence. He didn't even draw his sword. He used Yrden, a subtle, lethal spell, to trap them in an intricate web of shimmering blue light. They were immobilized, frozen in place. They were at his mercy.
YRDEN SIGN USED. STAMINA: 15/100. 100 XP GAINED.
Adam didn't hesitate. He used his sword, a cold, lethal blur, to cut them down. Their bodies crumpled to the floor, blood blooming on the stone floor. The scent of death, the scent of fear, filled the air. Daenerys stared, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. "You're a beast!" Lyra said, her voice a breathless whisper. "I'm just a guy who knows how to fight monsters," Adam said.
A sudden, high-pitched wail of pain, of surprise, of utter humiliation, came from behind them. Viserys had stumbled, his foot caught in a small pile of rocks, and he had faceplanted, his face a grotesque mask of mud and pain. The guards around them erupted into laughter. Adam grinned. He had used Aard. A simple, telekinetic push.
AARD SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: HUMILIATE VISERYS, 50 XP.
"This is outrageous!" Viserys shrieked, his voice a muffled cry. Adam gave him a small, mocking smile. "Snakes belong in the dirt," he muttered under his breath.
Ritual Preparations – Qarth outskirts, night The night sky was a vast, inky expanse, dotted with a million pinpricks of light. The air was cool, the wind a gentle caress. Adam and Daenerys were sitting in a small, private tent, a map of the world spread between them. They were planning the journey to Qarth. The defenses. The strategy. The future. Adam was the one who had a plan. A strategy. A purpose. He was the one who had a Witcher's instincts. He felt it on the back of his neck. The prickle of danger. The scent of blood. The sound of a whispered ambush. Assassins. Of course. Viserys's doing. The fool.
"Inner monologue: They're getting desperate. They're getting stupid. They're a pathetic, whimpering mess. I'll show them. I'll make them regret the day they were born. For threatening her. For trying to hurt her. For trying to take what isn't theirs. I'll show them what happens when you cross a queen and her Witcher. I'll make them an example. A lesson in pain. A lesson in fear."
They came out of the shadows, a group of two, their faces hidden behind masks, their eyes a predatory gleam. They were armed with daggers and rusty swords. They were looking for a prize. They were looking for a queen. They had found death.
"Warlocks don't scare me," Adam said, his voice a low, gravelly hum, a promise of violence. He didn't even draw his sword. He used Yrden, a subtle, lethal spell, to trap them in an intricate web of shimmering blue light. They were immobilized, frozen in place. They were at his mercy.
YRDEN SIGN USED. STAMINA: 15/100. 100 XP GAINED.
Adam didn't hesitate. He used his sword, a cold, lethal blur, to cut them down. Their bodies crumpled to the floor, blood blooming on the stone floor. The scent of death, the scent of fear, filled the air. Daenerys stared, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. "You're a beast!" Lyra said, her voice a breathless whisper. "I'm just a guy who knows how to fight monsters," Adam said.
A sudden, high-pitched wail of pain, of surprise, of utter humiliation, came from behind them. Viserys had stumbled, his foot caught in a small puddle, and he had faceplanted, his face a grotesque mask of mud and pain. The guards around them erupted into laughter. Adam grinned. He had used Aard. A simple, telekinetic push.
AARD SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: HUMILIATE VISERYS, 50 XP.
"This is outrageous!" Viserys shrieked, his voice a muffled cry. Adam gave him a small, mocking smile. "Snakes belong in the dirt," he muttered under his breath.
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