Chapter 17: Witcher's Growth
[Morning – Qarth slums – 299 AC]
The air in the Qartheen slums was heavy with the smell of filth, desperation, and a strange, metallic tang. The sun, a raw, indifferent disk in the sky, beat down on the mud and straw huts. Adam walked through the narrow, twisting alleyways, his senses on high alert. He was here for a reason. He had heard rumors of a woman, a former sellsword, a survivor, a ghost. Her name was Myra.
He found her in a small, dilapidated shack, her back to him, her hands moving with a fluid grace as she cleaned a rusted sword. She was a small woman, but her movements spoke of a coiled power, a deadly grace.
"Myra," Adam said, his voice a low growl. "I'm Adam Stiels. The White Wolf. I have an offer for you."
She turned, her eyes a deep, unsettling green. They were the eyes of a survivor, the eyes of someone who had seen too much and was still standing. "I don't need charity," she said, her voice a low, gravelly whisper.
"It's not charity," Adam said. "It's a job. A life. My queen has conquered Qarth, but the city is still filled with snakes. We need to be a shield, a sword, a fortress. We need you."
She looked at him, her eyes searching his face, a look of suspicion in their depths. "You're building an army?" she said, her voice a low murmur.
"A family that fights," Adam said. "Welcome aboard." He held up his hand, a small, shimmering Quen sign blooming from his fingertips. "Can you do that?"
[SYSTEM ALERT: 10 STAMINA USED. 200 XP GAINED FOR "RECRUIT WITCHER".]
She looked at the sign, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. She shook her head. "No," she said.
"But you can learn," Adam said, his voice a low, encouraging murmur. "You have the blood. The will. The strength. You just need the Mutations."
She hesitated, her gaze flicking from the sign to his face. "What... what would you ask of me?"
"Loyalty," Adam said. "To the queen. To the cause. To the pack."
She looked at him, a long, assessing look. He knew she was weighing the risks, the rewards. He knew she was making a decision that would change her life forever. He saw a flicker of the old, familiar anger in her eyes, the anger of a woman who had been betrayed, used, and discarded. This was his chance. He lifted his hand, a small, subtle burst of Axii flowing from his fingertips.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 10 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
Suddenly, a loud, panicked cry echoed from the main thoroughfare. "I'm sorry, sister! I'm sorry for everything!" It was Viserys. He was running through the slums, his face a mask of shame and apology, his words echoing through the narrow alleyways. A crowd of freedmen, who had gathered to watch the strange, pathetic display, burst into laughter.
Myra, startled by the noise, turned to look at the prince's public humiliation. Adam just smiled, a cruel glint in his eyes. He had made his point.
"Four Witchers, one snake to bury. My team's growing." Adam's inner monologue was a grim, satisfied hum. "He's his own jester now," he muttered, loud enough for her to hear.
Myra looked at him, a strange, grim smile on her lips. "I'm in."
[Noon – Qarth garden – 299 AC]
The midday sun was a merciless hammer on the camp. The dragons, lethargic in the heat, were spread out, their bodies creating great, shifting pools of shadow. Adam and the Witcher team were training. Myra, her movements still a little stiff, was learning the ropes.
"The dragons are the most important thing," Adam said, his voice a low rumble. "They are the future. You are their protectors."
[SYSTEM ALERT: 100 XP GAINED.]
He paused by his alchemy kit, his fingers moving with practiced ease as he crafted a Swallow potion. It was a simple concoction, but it was essential, a quick boost of health in the middle of a fight. He pulled out the necessary herbs and a flask of water, mixing them with a few drops of his own blood. The system hummed its approval.
[SYSTEM ALERT: SWALLOW POTION CRAFTED. 100 GOLD USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
He saw Viserys, his face a grim mask, standing a few feet away, watching him. Adam had to be careful. The man was a snake, and snakes were best handled with caution. He used a bit of his Disguise skill, not to change his appearance, but to make himself seem like a fleeting wisp of smoke, a trick of the light. He moved a few feet to his right, and Viserys's eyes darted, confused.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 15 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
"My dragons rely on you," Daenerys said, her voice a calm balm in the tense air.
"And we've got them covered," Adam replied, his gaze still on Viserys. He had a feeling the prince would try something stupid. He always did.
Lyra, standing at the edge of the Witcher circle, nodded. "We're ready, boss."
[Evening – Qarth streets – 299 AC]
The streets of Qarth, once filled with the shouts of slavers and the clinking of chains, now buzzed with the quiet energy of a city in transition. Adam was on patrol, his senses alert. He could feel the tension in the air, the quiet resentment of the old order, the fear of the newly freed. He was looking for spies, for the whispers of the Harpy's Sons. He found them in a quiet alley, two men in simple tunics, their eyes darting, their hands on the hilt of hidden daggers.
"Spies? Amateur hour," Adam said, his voice a low growl.
They turned, their faces contorted with surprise and fear. They drew their daggers, but Adam was faster. He slammed his hand into the ground, and a powerful Yrden sign, a shimmering circle of glowing energy, bloomed around him. The first man, caught in the trap, stumbled and fell. Adam was a blur of motion, his silver sword a gleaming line of death.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 15 STAMINA USED. 100 XP GAINED.]
The first man fell with a cry, his neck slit in a single, fluid motion. The second, a man with a wild, panicked look in his eyes, found himself disarmed and then run through the chest. They were amateurs. They weren't a threat. Not to him.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 100 XP GAINED. "KILL 10 ENEMIES" QUEST PROGRESS: 250/500.]
"Threaten her, and you're dust," Adam snarled, his voice a cold, hard promise. Daenerys, who had been on a patrol of her own, walked up behind him, her eyes wide with a strange, fierce pride.
"You're relentless," she said, her voice filled with a quiet awe.
He saw Viserys, who had been following them at a distance, a look of smug satisfaction on his face as he watched the skirmish. He had probably hoped to see Adam fall. Adam's lips curled into a smirk. He lifted his hand, a small, subtle burst of Aard flowing from his fingertips.
[SYSTEM ALERT: 10 STAMINA USED. 50 XP GAINED.]
Viserys, taking a sip of wine from a goblet he had been carrying, suddenly stumbled. The wine sloshed out, spilling all over his pristine tunic. He let out a shriek of indignation. "This is absurd!" he yelled.
Adam just looked at him, his face a mask of feigned innocence. The real game was just beginning.
[Night – Qarth inn – 299 AC]
The night was quiet, the air cool and calm. Adam sat with Daenerys, a map of Qarth spread out between them, their discussion a low murmur of strategy and planning.
"We need to find their leaders," Adam said, his voice a low growl. "The spies, the informants, the Harpy's Sons. We need to cut the head off the snake."
[SYSTEM ALERT: 100 XP GAINED.]
He pulled out his Monsters Book, the leather-bound tome a familiar weight in his hands. He flipped through the pages, a frown on his face. He found what he was looking for. A page on spies, on assassins, on those who worked in the shadows. He had never had a need to study them before, but now, he did. He made a mental note of their weaknesses, their tactics.
[SYSTEM ALERT: MONSTERS BOOK ENTRY FOR QARTHEEN SPIES UNLOCKED. 50 XP GAINED.]
"We're stronger every day," Daenerys said, her voice filled with a quiet confidence.
"With Witchers and dragons? Unstoppable," Adam replied, his gaze meeting hers. "We have to."
Myra, who had been watching them, her face a mask of grim determination, stepped forward. "I'm in for the long haul," she said, her voice a low, gravelly whisper.
"Good," Adam said, a grim smile on his face. "Because it's coming. And besides," he said with a wry smile, "someone has to make sure Viserys doesn't get himself killed. He's running out of dignity."
She let out a small, quiet laugh. The night was peaceful, a momentary reprieve from the storm they had unleashed. Adam looked at the city, the lights of a thousand campfires glowing like a constellation on the ground. The chains were broken. Now the real work began.
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