ＢΞＷＩＴＣＨΞＤ (discontinued)

Chapter Four: The Lesser Evil

"You should speak to master Irion, our wizard"
Geralt looked before his shoulder.

"He's willing to pay for odds and ends he needs for elixirs".

I was curious to see what a real wizard looked like. I was hoping for a full on Gandalf look. With a long white beard and big magic stick.

"I sold him our dogs when it died, added the girl, mysteriously"

I rolled my eyes. Not so mysteriously that's for sure, rat killer.

"Fine, take me to him"
Geralt set his horse free.

"I got 15 crowns for the yappy mut. That's enough to buy some new clothes. Just saying." She winked.

"Come on Roach" Grunted Geralt.

And off we go.

—————————-

When we arrived to the wizard's home, it was almost dark. Also the door had a weird upside down fish handle, because why not? 

Gerald tried to open the door, and a low-resonating hum could be heard from the fish. The air around us blurred and we entered the home. 

As soon as we came in, I was shocked by the view of numerous naked woman, fruit trees and the calling of exotic birds. Also a purple tree was floating in the middle of the hall.  Was this place even real? 

The sickly sweet scent of apples reminded me of that one time I was in a candy store during Boxing Day. It was full of sweaty people, and well, candy. 

I turned to Geralt. "Is this sorcerer in some kind of naked people cult ?"

Geralt opened his mouth to reply but he was cut off by the sorcerer.

"Greetings" 

The sorcerer's voice reverberated through the walls as he entered the hall. He was fully clothed.

"I am Stregobor" he continued.

"Cool stick" I muttered. The sorcerer was carrying an elaborate cane with a pink cristal trapped in its hilt. He narrowed his eyes at my comment, as though he had heard it but pretended he didn't.

"Master Stregobor. Sorcerer," he added after a pause.

I cleared my throat nervously. He might have looked like a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, but he was still supposed to wield powerful magic. I would be a fool to underestimate him. 

Geralt finally opened his mouth.

"I have a kikimora for Master Irion." He might have looked calm and composed, but I suspected he was beginning to lose his patience.

Stregobor sighed.

"Yes, well, forgive the confusion. Irion created this tower, but he's been dead 200 years."

Stregobor looked very much alive.

"So, in order to honor him, I've taken his name as my...personal sobriquet."