Two worlds collide

Chapter 2. Introductions.

Hamilton sat at her kitchen table. Her hand wrapped around a large mug of now hot coffee. A packet of digestive biscuits lay on the table, next to her drink. Her guest intrigued her. She was no stranger to weird or strange things, she had seen some messed up stuff in her line of work. but a man wearing medieval armour, armed to the teeth with swords, stepping from a strange vortex to fall unconscious at her feet topped her list of weird shit. This had complicated things a little. Protocol dictated she report this event to her bosses, most people would think to report a strange portal opening up and a man in medieval Armour coming out it. But Hamilton wasn't most people. Besides, she knew what would happen to him. He'd be taken to a secure facility, observed and have tests run on him, questioned, and treated like a lab rat. He was probably very confused as it was, let alone having to go through that. Hamilton sighed. Ok, she needed to wake up, but not like this. She was running on pure adrenaline and knew she was going to crash soon. She could feel the exhaustion of being awake for over twenty four hours, but her brain wouldn't let her. She pulled her phone from her pocket and watched a video, then another, and another. She rested her head on her hand, and sipped the coffee. Finally her brain began to still, her head drooped. Lower and lower until she succumbed to sleep.

Geralt awoke with a start, on instinct he reached for his weapon, but his hand did not fall upon the familiar hilt of his Sword, it fell on to something soft. He opened his eyes. This place was strange. The decor was unfamiliar. He hoisted himself up to a seating position and winced. The pain in his side, however, was very familiar, dulled slightly but most definitely there. He run a hand down over his ribs.

Bandages, did he do this? No, he didn't recall tending to any injuries prior to the portal opening. Wherever he was, his wound had been treated. He looked down, the thing that covered him was strange, it was like a giant fluffy blanket. It was thick and compressed under the weight of his hand. He lifted it, watching as the fibres of the thick duvet expanded. This thing felt light, but it was warm, he took in the room around him. What caught his attention was the strange black window on the wall opposite the bed. Well, window was the closest thing he could think of it. It was a black glass rectangle he could see reflections in it but couldn't see through it. He continued to take in his surroundings. This place clearly belonged to someone with money and power he decided. This bedroom was large. He shifted, the bed he lay in could easily fit three people and still have enough room to not touch each other. The mattress felt soft, yet dense under his weight. The pillows quite firm. A small unit stood next to each side of the bed, a tall glass of clear liquid rested upon the unit to his left. A small but wide cylindrical grey tube upon the unit to his right. He ignored them both.

Yes, definitely a rich person lived here. Now Geralt was fully awake, he noticed several doors in this room. One was slightly open, he could see a white tiled floor and a strange looking drape. everything else hidden by the door. One door stood open. His catlike eyes easily made out the details of clothes and boxes. A couple of pairs of strange looking shoes lay on the floor along with a pair of black leather boots. Soft lipid light filtered into the room from an arched window. The dull light falling upon a table with a series of oval mirrors, the reflections cast elliptical shaped spots onto the carpeted floor. The window draped with a heavy light grey curtain. The walls were devoid of pictures, just a couple of leafy vines that trailed up the corner of the room from a large pot on a low table. The whole Room was painted in shades of black grey and white. The wooden beams that held up the ceiling could be clearly seen and had been painted in black.
Curious, Geralt threw back the duvet and grunted in surprise as his feet sank into something soft. He looked down. It was a grey rug. A fluffy, grey rug. He stood and grimaced, placing a hand to his chest. Nothing broken he deduced. Painful, but He would heal soon enough. That door with the tiled floor had piqued his curiosity. He walked over to it and pushed it open. It was a bathroom. The bath itself looked different to what he was used to, but it was a bath nonetheless. A basin with ... taps? Geralt stared, this room was strange. A mirror was fixed to the wall above the sink. Geralt glanced at his reflection to see a strange white dressing above his left eye. He reached up and touched it, then shrugged. Someone had clearly taken the time to clean his injuries, he also noticed his face had been cleaned.