Chapter 9: Blade and Brew
Qarth's gardens bloomed under a violet dawn, their flowers glowing like jewels, the air thick with jasmine, dew, and the distant screech of Daenerys' dragons, their wings casting fleeting shadows. The city's marble walls shimmered, its streets stirring with early vendors, their carts creaking. Adam Stiels leaned against a fountain, its water glinting, his black cloak loose, his HUD blazing: [SYSTEM: LEVEL 2 ACHIEVED. ENHANCED SIGNS UNLOCKED, IGNI/AXII STRONGER, 100/100 USES.] His hazel eyes gleamed, his fingers snapping, testing enhanced Igni, a flame bursting brighter, hotter, the air shimmering with heat. Level 2's a thrill, but warlocks don't quit, he thought, his smirk cautious, his boots scuffing the stone, their soles gritty with garden dirt, the dawn's light warm on his face.
A warlock's ritual site, hidden in a garden grove, pulsed with dark energy, its sigils glowing blood-red, targeting Daenerys' dragons with a spell to bind them. Adam snapped his fingers, casting enhanced Igni, flames roaring to consume the sigils, their ash scattering like snow, the air acrid with burned magic. [SYSTEM: IGNI (ENHANCED), 1 MINUTE, 1/1,000 USES.] Daenerys, her silver hair catching the dawn, stood nearby, her violet eyes wide, her voice firm but soft. "You're indispensable, Adam." He tossed a coin, its silver flashing, his grin wide. "Aard's fun, Dany. Like shooing bad vibes." Her smile was rare, her hand brushing her dagger, the dragons cooing in their pen, their scales glinting.
Adam sent Tomas, a new recruit with a 90% success rate, through the Witcher portal, his stocky frame steady, his eyes fierce with ambition. "Bring back some magic, kid," Adam said, the portal's blue hum vibrating, Tomas' nod firm. [SYSTEM: TOMAS IN TRAINING, RETURNS IN 10 DAYS.] At a Qartheen forge, Adam crafted a silver sword, its blade gleaming under the smith's hammer, the air thick with coal and sparks, his HUD updating: [SYSTEM: ALCHEMY, SILVER SWORD CRAFTED, 1/5 CRAFTS.] He pranked Viserys, casting enhanced Axii to make him recite love poetry to a horse, the crowd laughing, Viserys' face red, his crown slipping. [SYSTEM: AXII (ENHANCED), 1 MINUTE, 2/1,000 USES.] "Poetry, Viserys? The horse is unimpressed," Adam said, smirking, the horse's snort echoing, the crowd's laughter swelling.
Adam played Gwent with a system NPC in a garden stall, his Ciri card outwitting the NPC's Monsters deck, winning a Yennefer card, its edges glowing faintly. [SYSTEM: GWENT WIN, YENNEFER CARD, 4/10 MATCHES.] "My deck's got more charm than Viserys," he teased, the trader's laugh warm, his hands shuffling cards. Adam explored the gardens, finding rare herbs—lotus, nightshade—their scents sharp, his cloak heavy with bundles, the air cool with dew. He bonded with Daenerys, teaching her a simple Aard trick, her laugh bright as she pushed a leaf, its flutter slow, her hand warm in his, the fountain's gurgle soft. "You're a quick study, Khaleesi," he said, her violet eyes sparkling, the dawn's light soft.
Adam bantered with the Qartheen smith, joking about swords: "Make it shiny, friend, I've got a reputation." The smith's grin was grudging, his hammer steady. Adam planned a group prank with Lyra, targeting a noble's feast, plotting to use Axii to swap wine with juice, Lyra's eyes gleaming with mischief. He reflected on warlock retaliation, pacing the gardens, the air sweet with flowers, his HUD pinging: [SYSTEM: WATCH YOUR BACK, HERO.]Influence is nice, but warlocks are a pain, he thought, the dragons' screeches distant, his empire a growing spark.
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