The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

Searching for the Son of a Whore

(To whom it may concern: Gwent is the Best Card Game in all the land. And Nilfgaard is my deck of choice. Fight me.)

(F/N) pushed through the large crowd with a spring in his step. He carried himself happily. With purpose. He felt like he was more in touch with himself, in a good way, for once a side effect of his power wasn't creating a desire to drink blood. He was in love again, Triss Merigold, he had thought she just had a small crush on him. Now he knew it was more. Ciri would be just a distant memory. Triss was now. He couldn't get the enchantress out of his head, he imagined their future. Was he getting ahead of himself? Almost certainly, but he didn't care. He was in love. The witcher's smile remained as he walked up to the first spot Whoreson might be hiding out in, the casino. It was time for business. His smile fell under his mask. His eyes narrowed.

(F/N) decided to play it as smoothly as he could, the guards who were standing at the door, were dressed like jesters. They were Juniors men, no doubt about it. They gave him a disapproving look, "The fuck you doing here?"

The witcher folded his arms, "I heard this was the place to play cards and have a good time."

"Invite only! Shit out of luck!"

(F/N) smiled and reached into his jacket, "Oh, I do have an invitation. It's right here," the witcher pulled out his hand and made the Axii sign. The guard's eyes went glassy, a drunken smile appeared on one of their faces, "Thaaaat looks good to me." He stumbled over to the door and opened it, "Luck be with you at the tables, Master witcher."

(F/N) smiled as he walked in, the casino was filled with men, rolling dice, or playing Gwent, the best pass time in all the land. The witcher pulled out his deck of cards, he had just won the Tibor Eggebracht hero card so he knew he could win some rare cards. (F/N) sat down with his first opponent, an over cocky banker. He was playing Monsters, what a worthless deck, all he needed to do was use decoys and a Biting Frost card. His leader card made him unstoppable, before he knew it he had won two of the three rounds.

(F/N) cheered as he racked in coin, he didn't notice that some of the guards were giving him dirty looks. In the criminal underworld, a winning streak could only mean one thing, cheating. After the first round was over, the butterflies in the witchers stomach vanished. He was a tactician and cocky. That's all that was needed to be successful. He won game after game after game, he won coin, rare cards, even the hand in marriage to a nobleman's daughter, which he rejected.

The scowls he was getting increased, (F/N) completely forgot about finding Whoreson Junior, until he won his last game. The witcher laughed and grabbed the rare card he had won. His thoughts stopped when he saw the card, his smile faded. The card had a picture of Ciri on it, it was a rare neutral card. (F/N) felt the butterflies come back. What was he doing? He was here to fit the crime boss into the puzzle not gamble. Ciri needed his help. He couldn't lose sight of that.

(F/N) sighed and rubbed his face, as his opponent got up, cursed him out, and left. The witcher sat there, as he thought about what to do next, when another man sat across from him, "Getting good hands."

The witcher looked at the man, he was dressed in elegant robes, something was telling him, he wasn't dealing with another patron, he smiled under his own mask, "I'm just a damn good Gwent player."

The man smiled, "Hm...well we could use a damn good player. We've a room - for specially selected players, upstairs. Really big stakes there."

(F/N) paused for a bit, as if he was considering it, but he was listening to the man's heartbeat, it was nervous, erratic, he was afraid of him. The witcher smiled under his mask and spoke in a happy tone of voice, "Of course, I'd be mad to reject such an invitation."