Chapter 10: Warlock's Wrath
Warlock Assault – Qarth outskirts, dawn The sun was a searing, white-hot coin in a vast, blue sky. It beat down upon the ivory walls of Qarth, a city built on trade and secrets, on deceit and splendor. The air, once cool and crisp, was now thick with the scent of saltwater, exotic spices, and the perfume of a thousand hidden lies. Adam, Daenerys, and their small entourage, a blend of loyal Dothraki, the quiet, watchful Lyra, and a collection of weary but hopeful freedmen, stood before the city gates. The gates themselves were a monumental feat of architecture, two massive, bronze figures, intertwined and locked in a silent, eternal embrace. Guards in ornate, silk tunics and jeweled swords stood at attention, their faces blank masks of indifference. They were judging them. They were judging the queen who had arrived with no army, no crown, and no wealth, only a trio of strange, fossilized eggs and a quiet, watchful man with a face like chiseled granite.
"Inner monologue: This city is a viper's nest. Every smile is a knife. Every gift is a trap. They see a girl with no army. They see a target. They see a prize. They don't see me. Not yet. They don't see the wolf in the shadows. I'll make them see. I'll show them what happens when you underestimate a Witcher. I'll make them remember me."
One of the guards, a man with a thin, predatory smile, stepped forward. "You seek entry, princess?" he asked, his voice a mocking, honeyed coo. "Qarth is a city of magic and wealth. We have no place for beggars."
Adam's lips curled into a small, grim smile. He took a step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He didn't need to draw it. He just needed to show them he was a man who knew how to use one. He used Quen, a shimmering, ethereal shield of pure magic, a faint blue glow that pulsed around his body. The guards' eyes went wide, their blank masks of indifference replaced by a mixture of shock and fear.
QUEN SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: PROVE STRENGTH, 50 XP.
Adam's voice was a low, gravelly hum, a melody of steel and shadows. "I'm not a beggar," he said, his voice a cold, lethal whisper. "I'm the guy who keeps queens safe. And she's not a princess. She's a queen. The Mother of Dragons. And she has come to claim what is hers." He looked at the guards, his eyes burning with a cold, predatory light. "Now, are you going to let us in, or are you going to die?"
The guards scrambled back, their bravado gone, their fear a palpable thing. The man with the thin, predatory smile was now a trembling, whimpering mess. He pointed a trembling finger at the gates. "Enter," he stammered, his voice a high-pitched shriek. "Enter and be welcome."
Adam grinned. He had won. He had won with a single glance. A single display of power. He turned to Daenerys, his face a mask of quiet confidence. "See?" he said. "It's all about the show."
A sudden, high-pitched wail of pain, of surprise, of utter humiliation, came from behind them. Viserys had stumbled, his foot caught in a pile of rocks, and he had faceplanted, his face a grotesque mask of mud and pain. The guards, their fear gone, their faces a mixture of confusion and disbelief, were staring at the whimpering king. Adam 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.
"Qarth is… generous!" Viserys shrieked, his voice a frantic, forced confession. "So… so generous!" Adam gave him a small, mocking smile. "Snakes belong in the dirt," he muttered under his breath.
Dragon Safety – Qarth garden, morning The sun was high in the sky, a blazing inferno. The air was thick with dust and the smell of sweat. Adam, Daenerys, and their small entourage, a blend of loyal Dothraki, the quiet, watchful Lyra, and a new recruit, Tomas, were standing by a small, tranquil pond, the three dragon eggs nestled between them. They pulsed with a faint, internal heat, a quiet, slumbering power. Adam was studying them. He was a Witcher. He was a man of science and magic. He knew the secrets of alchemy, of signs, of spells. He knew how to harness power. He knew how to awaken it. He knew how to make it his own.
"Inner monologue: The eggs are her destiny. Her future. Her legacy. I'll make sure they hatch. I'll make sure she's a queen. A dragon queen. I'll make sure her brother is a memory. A pathetic, whimpering memory. A footnote in history. 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."
"My dragons trust you," Daenerys said, her voice a whisper, her eyes soft.
Adam nodded slowly. "And I trust my Witchers," he said, his voice a low, firm promise. He had crafted a Swallow potion, a small, lethal concoction, a cocktail of healing power and dark magic. He had it hidden in his bag. A little insurance.
ALCHEMY LEVEL 6, 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. "We've got your back," he said, his voice a breathless whisper. Adam gave him a small, grim smile. "I know," he said.
Qartheen Council – 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 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: 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.
Night Bonds – Qarth inn, night The inn was a warm, cozy place, a welcome respite from the chaos of the streets. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and sweet wine. Adam and Daenerys were sitting in a small, private room, a small fire crackling in the hearth. They were discussing the day's events. The attack. The ambush. The threats. 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: 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.
[ 41: Recruit Kael – Qarth slums, morning]
The Qartheen sun was already a relentless furnace, baking the narrow, winding streets of the city's underbelly. The air, thick with the cloying scent of exotic spices and the sour stink of refuse, felt heavy and oppressive. Adam, his senses a low, humming vibration, moved through the labyrinth of sun-bleached hovels and makeshift stalls. He was searching for Kael, a name whispered on the wind, a young man who had once fought a pack of wild dogs with nothing but a broken stick and a savage fury in his eyes. Adam's Witcher senses, sharpened by the Dragon Blood trait, picked up on Kael's unique emotional signature—a blend of raw survival instinct, buried resentment, and a fierce, untamed loyalty. The system's passive quest tracker had already tagged him as a potential recruit.
"Inner monologue: Another wolf to the pack. He's got the look. The hungry eyes. The restless energy. A perfect fit. We need more than just brute force. We need a family that fights. A family that protects the queen. A family that will bury her brother. Slowly. Painfully. One step at a time. The more Witchers, the stronger the pack. The stronger our defense. The stronger our resolve. Viserys thinks he's a king. I'll make him a footnote. A pathetic, whimpering footnote."
Adam 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. A scrawny boy with a shock of dark hair and calloused hands. He looked up as Adam entered, his eyes, dark and sharp, assessing him in a single, searching glance.
"You're the... 'White Wolf'," Kael said, his voice a low, respectful hum, the local slang for Adam's pale hair and unnerving presence. "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. He took a step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He didn't need to draw it. He just needed to show them he was a man who knew how to use one. He used Yrden, a shimmering, ethereal symbol, to trap a stray dog in an intricate web of shimmering blue light. The dog was immobilized, frozen in place. It whimpered, confused. Adam watched Kael. He 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.
YRDEN SIGN USED. STAMINA: 15/100. QUEST: RECRUIT WITCHER, 200 XP.
"That… that's not a trick I've seen," Kael said, his voice a low, firm promise. He was impressed. He was ready to learn.
Adam's lips curled into a small, grim smile. "Legends don't just train heroes. They train Witchers," he said. "You've got the fire. I'll teach you how to use it. I'll make you a weapon."
"You're building an army?" Kael asked, his voice a low, hushed whisper.
"A family that fights," Adam corrected, his voice a low, growl. "A family that fights for the right queen."
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 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.
"I'm a coward!" Viserys shrieked, his voice a frantic, forced confession. "I'm nothing! Nothing at all!"
"He's his own joke," Adam muttered under his breath, turning back to Kael. The boy's eyes, once filled with quiet desperation, now held a spark of something new. A spark of hope. "You're in," Adam said, his voice a low, firm promise. "We have a lot of work to do."
[ 42: Dragon Guard – Qarth garden, 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, Kael, 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: The dragons are her future. Her legacy. Her power. I have to protect them. My life is dedicated to this. To her. They are her strength. Her future. The fire in the darkness. I am the shadow that protects them. My Witchers are their shield. And Viserys is their greatest threat. He'll get what's coming to him."
Daenerys, her face a mask of quiet resolve, watched as Adam knelt by the dragon eggs. They pulsed with a faint, internal heat, a quiet, slumbering power. She ran a hand over the scaly surface of the black egg, her fingers tracing the faint, shimmering patterns. "My dragons need you," she said, her voice a whisper, her eyes distant.
Adam nodded slowly. He had crafted a Swallow potion, a small, lethal concoction, a cocktail of healing power and dark magic. He had it hidden in his bag. A little insurance.
ALCHEMY LEVEL 6, SWALLOW POTION CRAFTED. 100 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 a passing merchant. 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.
Lyra, who had been listening from a distance, came closer, her face a mask of awe. "They're growing stronger," she said, her voice a breathless whisper.
"And they've got me," Adam said, his voice a low hum. "And they've got you. And Tomas. And Kael. We're their shield. We're their family." He looked at the three eggs, his eyes a cold, unwavering light. He would protect them. With his life.
[ 43: Qartheen Market – Qarth, 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, Kael, 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. Spies. 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.
"Spies 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 Quen, a shimmering, ethereal shield of pure magic, a faint blue glow that pulsed around his body. The daggers, the swords, all bounced off his shield. 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.
QUEN SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: PROTECT DAENERYS, 100 XP. KILL 10 ENEMIES (300/500 XP).
Daenerys stared, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and awe. "You're relentless," she said, her voice a whisper, her eyes soft. "You're always one step ahead."
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 absurd!" Viserys shrieked, his voice a muffled cry. Adam gave him a small, mocking smile. "He's his own punishment," Adam muttered under his breath. "A walking joke."
[ 44: Night Plans – Qarth inn, night]
The inn was a warm, cozy place, a welcome respite from the chaos of the streets. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and sweet wine. Adam and Daenerys were sitting in a small, private room, a small fire crackling in the hearth. They were discussing the day's events. The attack. The ambush. The threats. 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: The snake's out of tricks. He's pathetic. A child throwing a tantrum. But a child with a crown can still cause damage. I need to make sure he's a memory. A footnote. I'll make him a ghost. A whisper. A ghost in a haunted house. And I'll make sure Daenerys is safe. We're a team now. A family. She has dragons, and I have Witchers. Together, we're unstoppable."
"We're stronger together," Daenerys said, her voice a whisper, her eyes soft. "With you, I feel… safe."
Adam nodded slowly. He had just finished crafting another Grapeshot bomb, a small, lethal device, a cocktail of explosive power and sharp steel. A little insurance. He had also unlocked a new skill, Flame Ward, a powerful defensive spell taught to him by the Red Priests of Qarth in exchange for his services.
FLAME WARD UNLOCKED. RED PRIESTS TRAIT GAINED. 15 STAMINA, 50 XP GAINED.
"And getting stronger," Adam said, his voice a low, firm promise. "We have Flame Ward now. No one's burning us."
Kael, who had been listening from a distance, came closer, his face a mask of awe. "I'm in for the fight," he said, his voice a breathless whisper. "For the queen."
Adam gave him a small, grim smile. "We're more than a team," he said. "We're a family. We fight for each other." He looked at Daenerys, his eyes a cold, unwavering light. "The snake's out of tricks," he said. "He's a cornered animal. And cornered animals get put down."
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