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Wet Cherry of Truth	By : uztre Category: +S through Z > Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Views: 96295 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own or claim ownership of or make any profit of any of the characters or other elements of The Witcher 3 contained within the story.

Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
Summary:
Triss is in Novigrad, trying to survive and to protect her friends and mages from the witch hunters' evil deeds. Therefore, the sexy redhead made a deal with Dijkstra and Francis Bedlam known as the King of the Beggars. What began as a successful partnership months ago, however, turns into a nightmare when Triss gets in default and the King of the Beggars cancels their protection deal. What happens next defines her fate and purpose on the continent forever...
Tags: blowjob, prostitution, voyeurism
Notes:
- Spell-checked on June 14, 2018
It was cold and raining in the last few days in Novigrad known to be free and as the mother of all cities on the continent. Protected and surrounded by heavy and massive walls, the city was accommodating nearly thirty thousand inhabitants and supposed to be one of the largest cities in the North, possessing one of the major ports and being home to all manner of craftsmen offering every ware and good that a businessman could be possibly looking for. According to the tales of the Church of Eternal Fire, the city was abandoned once and only guarded by a holy man sitting near a great bowl of fire. After new colonists came close to him, he disappeared and designated some men to keep an eye on the fire, and so the religion of Eternal Fire was officially born, and with it the city's big problems including King Radovid's witch hunt fantasies today.

Shaking her beautiful, perky butt while trudging through the mud, Triss Merigold was on her way to meet the King of the Beggars in the Putrid Grove. The red-haired sorceress broke up with Witcher Geralt six months ago and decided to help other mages, sorceresses and herbalists to flee from the war zone and Redanian Territory. To achieve this goal, Triss was chosen to be the leader and head of the underground organization and forced to seek the protection of Francis Bedlam to whom she paid eighty percent of her earnings whilst attempting to scramble up enough money to rent a ship heading for Lan Exeter.

"He's in the house at the end, my Lady Merigold," the bearded guard stated and enjoyed the view of the red-haired sorceress' luscious body and c-cup tits gleaming wetly through the deep V-neck cleavage of her tight, cream white swashbuckler’s shirt including a straightened collar and visible stitches. In addition to these things, she was also wearing a corset with a yellow-gold body and deep V-neck, tight at the waist, with a tall collar and embossed swirl pattern as well, and dark turquoise-green, sleeveless shrug short and quilted sleeves finished with pearls and simple knots on the arms trimmed with yellow-gold stitches. The upper part of her clothing was rounded off by long red fingerless gloves with a single stitch detail on top.

When his eyes fell down to her slim legs, the red-haired sorceress's tight, dark-brown, weathered leather pants and leather-heeled boots with folded chestnut cuffs caught his greedy eyes. To make her look perfect, Triss also had dark brown legwarmers on and a narrow green belt buckling her waist, decorated with metal eight-pointed stars, and a second brown leather belt with a huge buckle including a medium size purse with light brown stripes. In one word, Triss Merigold of Maribor and sorceress known as the "Fourteenth of the Hill" was a red-haired, hot bombshell on two legs every man would love to put his hands on, and bang her foxy and sore till doomsday.

"Thanks," she said simply and gave the guard a warm smile. As always and like bewitched, the bearded man tilted his head to have a better look at her heart and pear shaped butt and licked his lips with relish. His leering gaze didn't let go of her body just a second and Triss knew she had to tell him to stop doing this at the first go, but back then she was too hurt by Geralt and his rejection to move on with their relationship, and let it be. This guard's and many other men's intentions were just carnal desires acted from base motives, like to pound her roughly and suck her perky tits for instance, she thought, but in contrast to Geralt they were at least honest and straight, and she decided to let them have their fun and hard boner as long as they kept distance and their manners.

After Loc Muinne, she and the white-haired Witcher went back to Kaer Morhen first and lived there. It only lasted a week when Triss realized she couldn't do it anymore. Geralt constantly avoided her when she wanted to speak about their feelings and their future. Love. Family. But the White Wolf didn't want to settle for just anything. Having enough of being used as a fifth wheel and interim solution so he could go back to his dear darling Yennefer again, like he always did after he got bored with her, Triss drew the obvious conclusion and stopped the vain attempts to resuscitate the dead body of their complicated relationship once and for all.

If Geralt wasn't ready to move on with his life and to make a definite decision, then Triss knew she had to stop pretending and end this charade of so-called love by her own terms. And so, she left him at dawn without saying a word and went to Novigrad , which many mages like her believed to be a safe haven, and set up a shop in the city center shortly afterward. Unfortunately, the new start of her life and luck didn't last for long, as the Cult of the Eternal Fire in the city declared all mages to be witches and traitors and began arresting and murdering them.

And the hard fight for survival defined her own life ever since.

"You're late Merigold," Francis Bedlam said with an annoyed voice when Triss closed the door behind her and stepped in. After taking off the hood, she took out a blue gleaming crystal and handed it over to the sitting underworld boss. "The Witch Hunters have intensified their efforts lately. Had to take another way to come here."

Scrutinizing the magic crystal in the candlelight, the King of the Beggars refused to comment and kept silent. It wasn't Triss' first contract she got from Francis to fix some magic amulets, and she hoped honestly it wouldn't be the last. "Looks good to me. Here for you," he said and let a little bag fall to the table. Immediately, Triss opened and looked into it. "Forty crowns. Good. Better than nothing. You've already added the remaining one hundred and sixty crowns to the pot?"

"No," Francis threw in simply, and afterward looked up into her light hazel eyes in a serious manner. "Those forty crowns you got here are the entire sum of the contract. Didn't want to take my part from it, because you still have to eat and drink something in the future as well."

Triss' expression contorted with disappointment. "When I arrived here six months ago, I got eight times more than that. The risks we both take by such contracts don't justify forty crowns, Francis. You have to charge more..."

"I know, Merigold," he countered softly. "But I don't have to explain you your own situation here, right? And besides, as you said before, the Witch Hunters have intensified their daily efforts. Now they're even making house searches or bringing respectable people into bad repute. Citizens of Novigrad are scared and try to get rid of their magic stuff before they get accused of being collaborators and killed as well. And... on the other side, I had to put my head for you above the parapet much more often I actually like to, to be honest. Start to feel the hunters breath on my very own neck coming closer and closer every day."

The way Francis spoke to her sent cold shivers up and down her spine, as Triss asked reluctantly while crossing her arms, "What are you trying to say me, Francis? Have I and my people become such an unbearable liability now that you are NOT willing to undergo the risks anymore? Please don't tell me you're gonna throw me out now?"

Triss had always feared the day when Francis would finally decide to turn his back on her. At her very first day in Novigrad, he agreed to help her as long as she and the other mages were ready to do some work for him in return. And at the beginning, it even worked really well. She and her fellow mages had made good money by fixing crystals, selling potions or helping millers to keep their warehouses clear from rats. The first month was one of the most profitable and successful time ever, and Triss had accomplished to increase the number of members from ten to forty.

Everything went smoothly till Caleb Menge was elected the commander of the Temple Guard and leader of the Witch Hunters. Then, the repressive measures became a daily routine and the burning of so-called mutants and witches found its way into the city. The temple guards started to intimidate, clobber and force the citizen to reveal places and names of people related to magic in any way, turning the common folk up against them.

And it worked. Very easily.

During her second and third month, Triss lost twenty people to the burning stake at the marketplace, and in her desperation she agreed to pay protection money to Bedlam who delivered the coins to Dijkstra, better known as Sigi Reuven who in turn used the money to bribe officials and guards so they looked the other way. In the beginning, Dijkstra's portion of the revenue from finished contracts was five percent. Consistently and because of the Witch Hunter's extreme brutality, the original portion increased quickly to eighty percent. Unfortunately, at the same time, the number of contracts hit rock bottom and the income per each bargain decreased. And now, Triss was even in arrears with her payments and happy if she had enough crowns to live on in the free city of Novigrad at the end of the day.

Despair became her constant shadow and companion, and the liberating light at the end of the tunnel wasn't in sight.

"We've always kept an honest business relationship together, Merigold. So, the answer is yes. We will part ways from now on. You're in default for three weeks and my patience is exhausted. Have to-"

"You'll get your portion. I swear Francis. Just give me a week or more and I'll pay back in full measure plus interest. Just need more time, please-" Triss said with shaking voice, begging the way she had already done so many times before.

Francis' harsh strike on the table startled the redhead and shut her up. "For what? Do you and friends find a new secret investor and got independent from whatever is happening right now in this city. Hm? I thought so. I'm not the welfare club, Merigold. I am the King of the Beggars. Have my own people to protect and my own interests to pursue. You've to grow up, girl."

Getting angry by his last words, the urge of explaining herself became too strong and she uttered, "I AM NOT A GIRL, Francis! And besides, you know very well that the Witch Hunters won't just stop being a threat after they're done with us. I know there is no such thing as a free lunch. But in times like this, we have to stand together. If I get this damn ship to Exeter with all my people on it, you'll get your portion I owe you doubled back. And YOU KNOW I always stick to my word. Just keep paying Dijkstra and it'll be ok."

Triss' words didn't seem to silence his scruples, as Bedlam replied, "You don't understand, Merigold. There is no 'my portion' of the revenues. The last time I took my share of the money was two months ago."

The red-haired sorceress' eyes gaped wide open. "What?"

"The eighty percent of all your income goes to Dijkstra, as a whole. I knew if I took my share too, you would never leave Novigrad in hundred years. And yes, I know you mages and sorceress could be useful one day, therefore kept giving you these stupid contracts, though I got no coin from it... But today, you cost me more than your potential could bring me in someday," Francis explained, eyes gleaming seriously.

"Then, then I should talk with Dijkstra and sort these things out. He's a swine but-" Triss tried to maintain her composure, never thought that Francis Bedlam would have done something like this to help her out, but got interrupted again.

"Dijkstra won't help you. Already spoke to him, Merigold."

"Why? He's literally rolling in coins, should have no problem to grant me a delay... HAS to," Triss countered in anger. Dijkstra was a cutthroat and managing a bathhouse with whores. All mobsters, gangs and even politicians were paying him money to keep things moving. By a way of pledge, Triss' seven thousand crowns were stashed away where only Dijkstra knew exactly.

"It's the gang war with Whoreson Junior. He's making a mess of Dijkstra's business, and mine too. The war with the Church is NOT the major problem anymore... You have to look for another business model, Merigold. And better now than later," Francis explained straightforward. "From now on, you and your people can't expect any protection or help at all. You're alone with your problems."

Triss took a deep sigh and looked down at the floor, always feared this day would come. The only question was: How she was going to explain this heavy setback her friends? During the last months, she was trying to sound and look positive, told them constantly that they were really close to renting the ship. 'Hope was the last thing to die', she uttered daily. But if they heard today that they came to a full stop, it would be a total disaster.

And the last thing she needed right now was pure panic, acrimony.

"Should I be concerned about my collected money now?" Triss asked while trying to digest the new reality.

"In Dijkstra's bunker? No. Before he gets robbed, Nilfgaard marches into Novigrad. Impossible. Your money is safe there, Merigold," Francis replied immediately. "Now bugger off and get your business together. And never come back again. You and your kind have to stay away from the Putrid Glove. For everyone's sake."

Frustrated and dashed at the same time, Triss only nodded her head and left the Putrid Glove, heading to the Kingfisher Inn in the pouring rain. It was the headquarter and hideout of all haunted mages, and they had a meeting today. An important one. She was asking herself whether she should spit out the truth about their newest, more dangerous situation, or just wait and see first. Perhaps, she had a new idea and solution for their problem in the next twenty-four hours and doesn't have to worry them to die for nothing.

She had failed with Geralt. She didn't want to fail with this too.

It had to work. There was no other option.

While stepping into one puddle after another, Triss passed some market stalls and merchants trying to sell their goods. The smell of pee mixed with vomit and fish was dominating the entire place as she crossed a little bridge. On each side and almost everywhere, prostitutes and drug dealers were doing their own business, giving the citizens of Novigrad affordable ways to cool off. No one would admit it but the war between the North and the Empire, and the constant threat of being dragged into it as well, gave people the creeps, although everybody knew that the Novigrad's walls were adamant.

As the heavy rain seemed to get worse, Triss decided to run for cover and turned right into an underpass filled with packages and goods. While waiting a moment before moving on again, more and more people came by, seeking for a place to stay dry. Triss was slowly pushed back into one of the little storage places as she made room for them. Quickly, her back was touching the cold wall when she suddenly heard constant slurping and glurking noises coming from near.

"Yeah baby, keep sucking my dick," the blond elven man groaned with his eyes closed in pleasure, head tilting back. The suitor seemed to be so deeply in his element that he hadn't noticed the red-haired sorceress yet. Triss, on the other side, was shocked, embarrassed and impressed at the same time and something in between. She wanted to look away, but the sight was too lewd and shameless to be ignored. Her eyebrows widened in amazement as the sexy prostitute deepthroated the entire length of the big cock incessantly. The whore's nostrils pressed against the elf' pubic hairs only for short time as the entire shaft slid out till its head rested on the very tip of her tongue. Then with one go, she hammered her face back against his pelvis over and over again.

It was impressive, and nasty.

Feeling her own pussy getting wetter every second, Triss had to keep her own hands under control before they ran riot and gave her aching pussy a good time. Since her first day in Novigrad, she hadn't had time once for herself, her needs. Six months. One hundred eighty days. Without having her fingers or something really big and thick inside her. Just for once. But there was no time. Too much survival. Far too little pleasure. She suddenly realized how much she had gotten neglected these days.

"Aaahh fuck... coming... bitch," the elf groaned and pulled the prostitute's hair forcefully who kept her lips tight around the meaty piston's base. Imagination running wild, Triss thought she could clearly hear the girl's swallowing of all the delicious cum that was spurting inside to her stomach. She licked her own lips, imagining she would have been the bitch who should have her mouth-full of the elf's dick and salty load.

After a long moment, the prostitute pushed herself away and started to clean the elf's cock by starting at the tip and then his balls. Paralyzed by her own hot feelings, Triss only looked down with wide eyes. As the whore seemed to be finished with sucking the elf's cock dry, she opened her eyes the first time and startled at the view of the horny sorceress' presence. Her little shriek gave her whoremonger a startle as well and Triss heard him uttering, "Who the fuck are YOU?!?"

Blushing with shame, the red-haired sorceress didn't know what to say and stood there, rooted to the spot. Just now she realized that all the other dwellers were already gone and she was actually alone in this little warehouse.

"That makes twenty for the blowjob and twenty for the swallowing, forty in total, sweetheart," the human whore said easily, wiped off the remaining cum from her lips before licking it off from her finger.

"Of course, darling. Here," the suitor stated and handed over a little bag with coins before turning his attention to the sorceress again. "And you. I've no coin left, bitch. Come to see me tomorrow again, and we'll see."

Triss should have made him very clear that she wasn't a common harlot at all, or how dare he could say and actually think something so insulting like she would be a cheap whore, but instead her eyes widened in shock as she heard about the forty crowns the woman just got for only giving the man a blowjob and swallowing his cum. Forty crowns for a work of maybe twenty minutes, and she - on the other side - had to fix a crystal which took her a whole week and demanded full attention. And not only that, her life was in constant danger and the risk of getting caught by the hunters always pervasive influence.

For what? Forty crowns equivalent to one blowjob and swallow.

The elven suitor fished his cock back into his trousers and both went on, leaving the redhead with gritting teeth behind. Triss was boiling with rage. To put it mildly, she felt so unjustly treated. "Has the whole world gone mad? Is this a joke?" She asked herself constantly in anger while moving on and heading back to the Kingfisher Inn again. The rain had stopped and the sky opened up beautifully, letting the sunshine through the grey clouds in the distance. She was still vexed with her own situation, as she saw a bunch of people heading towards the great marketplace, coming from all four directions.

The clicking of her heeled boots changed immediately when the muddy street turned into a stone-flagged one. Triss remembered her first day in Novigrad, the first time she saw the intense and beautiful architecture of this so-called city. The famous marketplace appeared to be so impressive, starting with the Vivaldis and the blacksmith on the left through the bookstore on the right, and the several market stalls in the middle of it. Here, she knew she could do anything she always wished and wanted to do. She was faced with so many opportunities she thought that it was almost impossible to choose one.

Today, Triss would have called herself lucky if she only had one really good idea hidden in her pocket.

Sighing softly and wallowing in memories, the red-haired sorceress proceeded to the Kingfisher Inn as she opened up the door and walked directly to the barkeeper Olivier. He was cleaning his desk and smiled warmly, his eyes telling her that the others were already here and downstairs in the basement. They always held their meetings there which was only accessible via the secret door in the next room. After looking around to make sure no witch hunter was there, she activated the door's lock by pulling down the torch. Immediately, the wooden wall rolled aside and Triss walked downstairs where people were already awaiting her.

"Is everybody here? Can we begin the meeting or..." the red-haired sorceress asked and looked around, seeing their depressive expressions gazing back. Gone through so much over the last while, she could literally read in people' eyes when someone got captured or killed by the Witch Hunters.

"Who?" Triss just asked with shaking voice, starring around while trying to look into someone's eyes, but everybody's face was pointing to the ground.

"Chrystoph. They got him a few hours ago," Berthold replied. He was an alchemist and married with Anisse. Both were the newest addition to their little family and Triss had promised them to get them out of this cursed town very soon. A dream, nothing more. It seemed so far.

"How?"

"We don't know exactly, but as far as we heard the hunters got him when he was attending to his newest contract at the Golden Sturgeon... Chrystoph had no chance. The hunters were already there. It was a trap," Pierre explained from behind. He had a long orange coat and with several signets like patterns engraved on it.

Triss' eyes closed in shock and self-reproach. It was actually one of her own contracts she gave him so she could go to the meeting with Francis Bedlam today. Chrystoph was always so polite and friendly to take over, and actually the only mage with enough experience to fix amulets like she did.

And she had sent him to death.

It should have been her and not him.

"Don't blame yourself, Triss. It's not your fault," Pierre added like he had read her mind and tried to give her a pat on the back as she stepped away, pouting in self-pity, thinking that she shouldn't have been the person getting cheered up after this. As the leader of this organization, she should have learned to see over such incidents and move on again. But after six months, deep within, she was still the naive damsel in distress she had always been with a little part of her having the honest wish to drop everything and walk away, or seeing Geralt coming downstairs and helping her out like he always did.

But this time it wasn't going to be that way. This time, she had to force her way.

Alone.

By herself.

"Chrystoph knew the risks... like we all do," Berthold threw in while all the others stepped closer. "Don't let it get you down, Miss Merigold."

Almost being on the verge to cry, Triss nodded her head shortly and beckoned them over to a place which was circled by pillows and a long carpet in the middle. In the beginning, they had chairs and a round table in the basement but were quickly forced to sell them to scramble up some crows for the pot. Now, they only used little pillows for a little bit of comfort and a lantern to not have to speak with each other in total darkness. It was miserable.

Putting up a book from a wooden barrel, Triss sat down at the top of the carpet and opened it. Her eyes widened in unpleasant surprise as she realized that their last coin added to the saving pot was three weeks ago. The entire organization was stony broke, and no one knew about it but her because she was treasurer of the organization and other members preferred to stay ignorant this way.

And instinctively, she expected not much of a progress today as well, as someone asked, "How did it go with Bedlam actually?" All thirty-eight pairs of eyes were locked at her as Triss looked up and didn't know what to tell them. After what happened to Chrystoph recently, she was sure they couldn't cope with another setback. Their sorrowful faces constantly gazed at her while Triss was struggling with herself. She had achieved to be honest with them so far, but this very first time she couldn't do it. Not anymore. It would break their motivation apart and they would have become exasperated with the situation at all.

And she needed them focused and up right now. More than ever.

Contorting her expression hardly to a smile, Triss replied with fake self-confidence, "With the King of the Beggars? Good. Very good actually. He granted us a delay of two weeks. And he paid me... two hundred crowns and added one hundred and sixty crowns directly to our saving pot." Triss' heart stopped pounding for a moment as a queasy feeling rushed over her body. Lying to people wasn't one of her best skills and she felt like she was getting sick too.

On the other side, her words had the effect on the people she hoped for as deep sighs resounded through the basement, and with them a strong wave of relief in advance.

"Berthold, could you please bring me the casket?" The red-haired sorceress told the blue-eyed alchemist, saw people's relieved faces changing into embarrassment. It was like the last three times when no one got money to spare for the project.

"So c'mon guys. I'm ready to accept payments. Who has something to add?" Triss asked while looking around but couldn't find someone returning the glimpse. An awkward silence fell all over the place and people were just taking sidelong looks at each other, but not at her.

Not one person.

"Seriously? Here we are nineteen talented mages, sorceresses and herbalists and no one, not a single person has money to share? This is a joke, right?" After what happened today and the last three times, Triss just couldn't hide her disappointment anymore, feeling like she had finally reached an impasse of her own life and future.

"Miss Merigold, really, it's not like we don't want to do our bit, but um... the economic and political situation in Novigrad..." Glenn tried to explain first as Pierre interrupted him and added, "What Glenn is trying to say to you, Triss, is that we all just earn enough money to live and pay rent these days. The Witch Hunters are intimidating people into employing and paying workers with only legitimate references... I-I lost my job at the docks because of that. And and... Annabelle here lost her job at the inn because the innkeeper couldn't afford her as a bar-maid anymore."

Everyone's gaze moved to the red-haired sorceress, eager to see what her response was going to be.

"I know the situation is bad and I know that you're trying to do whatever is in your power to survive and help each other. But..." Triss replied and closed the book loudly. "But we all - me included - have to come up with something and make money again. Otherwise, we'll never leave this place. We have already scraped up seven thousand crowns. There are only eight thousand crowns left. We can do this!"

"But there is a way to make easy money..." Glenn said but was cut off again, this time by Triss.

"No. We won't work for Whoreson Junior, Cleaver or Sigi Reuven. Just no. No prostitution, no drug dealing, no stealing and killing people. That was the deal. If we take this path, we'll never be free again... We have to come up with something less desperate and destructive. Alright?" The red-haired sorceress spoke, eyes starring as most people nodded in approval, except for Anisse.

"And what exactly? The Church of the Eternal Fire and its henchmen are putting pressure on the citizen, taking draconian measures to bring us all to bay. We have to adapt our strategy and be one step ahead again. If this means we have to soil our hands with fisstech or blood, we should not hesitate anymore and grab the chance. It's better than waiting for getting staggered in sleep," the young alumnus hissed in an undertone of despair. "Our high ideals won't save us from being burned at stake!"

All eyes moved to Triss again, who seemed to be tired of discussing all these things.

"We WILL survive this difficult time and WILL walk tall. Even it means to die. Neither the Church nor the temple guards and the witch hunters WILL bring us to their knees, as long as we stick with the original plan," the red-haired sorceress growled, didn't let her blue-eyed opponent speak once by lifting a finger. "We are NO whores, NO assassins, NO thieves and NO dope dealers! WE ARE JUST MAGES, HERBALISTS AND SORCERESSES. PERIOD!"

Triss' outburst caused the walls of the basement to vibrate, as an awkward silence fell over the place. Anisse wasn't impressed or persuaded at all but didn't dare to disagree right in the front of all her friends. She shared the view - like many others in the organization and Triss knew this, of course - that they had to ally with the four major gangs of Novigrad to accelerate their departure. She also became rebellious and called her decisions into question more often she liked to. During the last weeks, Anisse even tried to argue people into taking sides, especially against her but failed. Her loyalty was out of the question, of course. Triss would have been just glad if she stopped provoking opposition.

"It's easy for you to say. You have Bedlam and his contracts, some work which allows you to avoid close contact with the enemy every day. We others have to work among them, face to face and with a stupid smile. Every day, we have to wipe their shitty bottom until they finally get to the truth and shackle us, and we get burned like chicken in the fire," Anisse countered aggressively, eyes locked at the redhead. "I say let's join forces with someone powerful and hunt these bastards down like rats they are. Stick the dimeritium right up their asses where no sunshine reaches."

The other members' eyes moved to Triss.

"It's enough, Anisse..." Berthold threw in to defuse the situation, as Triss countered angrily, "You want war, revenge. We are only nineteen people, against an entire army of soldiers and hunters. We are far better off if we move in the shadows and gather strength to leave this city undetected."

"Tell this to Chrystoph they're gonna burn tomorrow!"

A murmur of shock went through the crowd.

"Anisse that's enough!" Berthold uttered obtrusively, his glimpse telling his wife she was really gone too far.

Both sorceresses just looked at each other with a serious expression. After a while, as it looked like no one had to say anything, Triss uttered annoyed, "Who of you here has the same view like Anisse here? Who thinks we should change our strategy and 'join up with someone powerful' like she said? C'mon, guys. If this is really the consensus right now, I want to know that. Hands up!"

First, it looked like no one expect for Anisse was of her opinion, but after some long seconds, more and more people raised their hands and showed Triss how much the group was split over this topic. In the end, nine people were in the favor of Anisse' ideas and nine people not, with Triss' own voice turning the scale. The red-haired sorceress didn't expect such headwind. Even though she had the absolute majority, it was a tight victory, and severe defeat at the same time.

A deep sigh flipped over her lips.

As Triss wanted to say something, Olivier the innkeeper appeared, walking downstairs. His face was pale as snow and drenched in sweat, his way of walking shaky and nervous. All eyes in the basement were locked at his, gaping wide open and half-empty. It seemed like the old innkeeper would have seen a ghost, death. When he stopped two steps away before them, his lips didn't move and his jaw trembled incessantly.

Something happened. Something terrible.

"Olivier, were not done here? Is something wrong? Talk!" Triss uttered bluntly while asking herself why his hands were crossed behind his back, being tied up in knots.

Firstly, Olivier's empty gaze didn't change a bit. Then after a moment of silence, he looked down and muttered in a hushed tone, "They are here. You have to-"

"Who is here?" Anisse asked this time, getting worried by the innkeeper's creepy presence.

"RUUUUUUUNNNNN!!!!"

The innkeeper screamed his head off, as his arms relaxed and everyone could see what he was holding all the time; two grenades of dragonfire, bound in cloth to his hands, and their fuse already blazing.

Paralyzed. Shocked. Caught red-handed. Before one person had a chance to say or do something, a massive and deafening bang headed its way to them, and Olivier exploded into pieces. His body was torn apart like a melon crashing into a floor. The blast wave hit them hard first, as everyone flew through the air and dashed against the wall behind, with their blood and Olivier's internal organs in tow. People, especially male members at the bottom, had no chance and got killed outright, whereas most women got hit by the fire following next.

Screams of terror and despair echoed through the room.

The smell of burnt human flesh took over the air.

Instinctively and quick-witted, Triss raised her arm to counter the incineration, as a glowing stream came out front and got formed to a bubble containing all remaining people ahead. She was weak but could maintain the protective shield as long as possible, reflecting the wall of heat the way it got sidetracked to the wooden barrels, collided with them, which ignited the alcohol and caused them to explode.

Keeping her arm upright in pain, Triss used her remaining strength and averted next blow. The entire basement was engulfed in flames. After getting up, she grabbed the chance to look around and see what happened to the others. "Everyone has to get up. NOW!!!" She shouted, tugging at Anisse and Annabelle and helping them to rebound. Surprisingly, most women didn't look like they were badly injured, having just superficial burns on their arms and cheeks. The men, however, except for Berthold and Pierre, were shredded in thousand pieces, their legs and bones spread all over the place, burning like candles.

It was a total massacre.

With the keen smoke choking them, Triss tried to clothe a thought in words, as Anisse asked while putting her arms around Berthold, whose face was drenched in his and his friends' blood, "Is everyone alright?! And why don't they attack?"

A good question.

"Doesn't matter. We have to flee through the sewer tunnels bef-" Triss barked, the blistering heat and dark smoke giving her a hard fight, as two ebony-green balls slowly bounced downstairs and landed before them. The red-haired sorceress' light hazel eyes gaped wide open as they recognized what they were; Dimeritium Bombs.

"Everybody to the tunnels. QUICK!!!"

Before anyone could react further, the grenades detonated and sprayed particle of dimeritium around, flooding the sorceresses and mages lungs and veins with it. Once in their nerve system, the dimeritium prevented the use of magic for several hours. It was a common procedure of the Witch Hunters before the main hold-up started.

Coughing up and trying to cover her mouth, Triss and her fellow mages had somehow accomplished to reach the grille behind the burning crates. Even as they opened the lattice door, witch hunters with masks jumped through the dark clouds of smoke and attacked them with drawn steel. Pushing Annabelle aside, Triss dodged the first blow by falling backward onto the floor. As the hunter hauled off for another strike, Aliénor next to her picked up a piece of wood and pushed that burning thing into the man's face, who immediately cried out in massive pain and backed off. The other stout hunter was incapacitated by coming off shelves and barrels.

"Go go gooooo!!!" Triss barked at the top of her lungs. Confused and disoriented, she tried to get up and then slipped on the gallons of blood. Panic-stricken to the core, the others rushed through the grille downstairs to the sewer tunnels and left her bind. Catching after something to stabilize, she got attacked by another hunter, who grabbed her carrot-red hair and tried to drag her back across the room until another explosion concurred, catapulted him through the basement and Triss right into the sewer tunnel, headfirst.

Agonizing pain shattered through her bones.

After dashing against each flight of stairs, Triss landed on the ankle-deep, underwater tunnel. Her body shed bitter tears. Her heart was diving in grief and anger. How the hell did the Witch Hunters find them? All at once, she had lost half her people, and by a hair's breadth almost everyone including herself. It was pure luck they survived. Nothing more. Just luck and reflex. Fortunately, except for few bruises, she was hale and hearty. A wonder.

Forcing herself up once more, Triss gazed back up at the entrance spitting fire. It seemed that the hunters had problems as well find a way through the black smoke and extensive fire, thanks to the hundred barrels of vodka and hard liquor stacked over each other. But she didn't want to push her luck too much, turned around and trotted into the unknown darkness. The sewer system was spacious and contorted, without any plan or idea an endless labyrinth. But going back was no option either.

While feeling her way through the tiled walls and complete darkness, Triss was trying to locate her friends' steps but could hear nothing more than a constant dripping and depressing silence, and her own erratic breathing. The dark ambiance was creepy, and the stench to go barmy. Several times, she even had to slosh through shitty mud and climb over a dank wall to reach the upper level until found herself standing behind a corner and unfamiliar voices reaching her ears.

"Where the fuck are we, man? And how the heck should we find that red-haired bitch here? Can't even see my hands before my nose," the one said who was holding a torch.

"Menge said we have to go into the sewer tunnels and cut them off. That's all I have to know," the other witch hunter replied, having a much more juvenile voice than the other. "The other freaks are already captured. It's just that whore left. She can't have gotten far."

The news about her friends hit Triss like lightning, making her shaky on the pins.

"Spotted, not captured. These abortions are like little rats and scattered in all directions. Won't be easy to force them to come out of their shitty holes in this darkness."

"It doesn't matter, man. We will find them and this fucking Triss Merigold. Then gangrape her roughly before giving the last oiling and burning her to hell where she and her freaks came from. All temple guards and priests are informed and helping us. The state of emergency Commander Menge has declared a few hours ago is officially in force. This time, they're fucked. They can't hide anymore."

"Sounds good to me. Just gotta piss like a racehorse first. Wait here, I'll be right back," the one with the torch threw in and headed directly to the corner Triss was hiding desperately.

"We are in the sewers, idiot. You can piss everywhere."

"Yes, but I don't want to show off my ten-inch tool in front of you. You could get into mischief..." the witch hunter chuckled stupidly.

"Fuck you, man," the other one countered and chuckled too.

Eyes widening in panic, the red-haired sorceress moved quickly backward, trying to create distance, as her heeled boots flipped and she landed ruggedly on her tasty ass. The high-pitched yell of pain resounded through the tunnels, which not only gave both witch hunters a nasty shock but other creatures living there too.

"That's the sorceress bitch! Catch her!!!"

Before Triss had a chance to get up, both witch hunters surrounded her by holding her arms and legs tight, trying to shackle them with dimeritium. "Fucking whore keep still or we'll break all your bones right here!" One hunter shouted and regardless of her cursing and whirling even accomplished to put an ankle bracelet around her left feet, having a diameter of one inch. "Nooo stop. Please!" The red-haired sorceress screamed in despair as she the awful clicking noise of the bolt went right through her, and forced her lips to close, feeling a magic-stifling substance crawling up her legs and spreading all over her body.

"Shackle her hands too, so we can bring that living cumdumpster to Commander Menge and get rewarded!" The other ugly hunter ordered with a broad smirk while moving his hands up and down Triss' thighs in eager anticipation.

"Keep your hands off me, bastards!" She yelled but got silenced by a harsh smack across the face.

"Shut up, cunt! You'll get your deserved punishment later... Hey man why are you looking at me? Shackle that whore now! Can't stay here like idiots all day long!"

The other witch hunter' eyes were gaping wide open in disbelief by sight of whatever was towering in the lurking shadows behind. His jaw started trembling when is finger raised and pointed to the ten feet monster soaring with growling noises and dark pupils. The man couldn't bring out one word, like Triss laying on the cold floor in fear, paralyzed by the creature' long ears, sharp claws and falling beard.

'SHIT!' was the only word the witch hunter uttered before his head was brutally separated from his broad shoulders and fell to the red-haired sorceress' thighs, who hadn't realized yet what just happened there right in front.

"FUUUCK!" the other man yelled, tried to turn around and flee in terror. His unlucky attempt failed as the evil-smelling monster shifted around and rammed his long claws with a deafening growl into the hunter's belly, cutting through his heavy armor like butter. The hunter was dead before the body hit the ground.

Triss' whole life flashed before her eyes and she was ready to face her own death. Not moving a bit, she watched how the creature came closer in slow-motion, then tilted his dreadful face down to hers. As she closed her eyes and made herself ready for the inevitable end, the creature first sniffed at her carefully and then licked her face few times, which caused her almost to fly off the handle.

"Mhm... a sweet little thing father has chosen here. Yes. Can smell the sweetness right through her panties," the beast stated with an abyssal voice of death, dangling beard tickling her belly. "I understand now. Go, my little lucky one. Go. Father's word is law and his wish my bond. Go little one and fulfill your purpose. When the time has come, he will reveal his plan, and with it, share his toy as it should be with his family."

After his strange babbling, and to Triss' utmost surprise, the monster just departed and took the blood-leaking corpses with him, including head whose awful expression was going to hunt her in dreams for a long time she was sure. Triss didn't dare to move, even as her newest rescuer was already gone around the next corner. Scared stiff, she didn't know what to make of all this.

"A speaking monster killed all people and spared my life... Geralt would love this story," Triss suddenly sighed with relief while shaking her head at the thought how much luck she had. Then, feeling her trembling limbs winning their old strengths back, she slowly pushed herself up and made sure every inch of her body was alright, fondling herself until her hands touched the uncomfortable dimeritium ankle bracelet, as a paralyzing fear rushed through her like a blazing bolt.

"Stupid shit!" Triss tried to remove the U-shaped piece of metal secured with a heavy bolt from her left ankle, to no avail. After tugging at it several times and stroking it against the wall, Triss threw in the towel and just pulled the dark brown cotton legwarmer over, decided to leave it be this way and better move on.

At least for now.

Tottering on high heeled boots from one dark tunnel to another, it lasted hours till Triss finally made it to an exit. Fortunately, the massive door wasn't locked, as she gave herself a moment to gather her thoughts and then pushed the doorknob down, finding herself in the moist and eerie darkness of Novigrad Docks as a cold breeze of air rushed through her body.

The red-haired Magician didn't know where her friends were, nor who was trustworthy yet, as she chose to visit the last man she wanted to meet right now, but on the other side he was also supposed to be her only hope and chance to gain a foothold again; Sigismund Dijkstra, the former head of Redanian Intelligence and major gang leader in Novigrad. He was the only person who could provide refuge for her and her friends, so the situation would cool off a bit before they decided to do what came next.

The only problem was that an entire army of temple guards and witch hunters were between her and Dijkstra's bathhouse south of St. Gregory's Bridge, in the Gildorf District. But there was no alternative. Without the seven thousand crowns stashed away there, the chance of surviving this whole lunacy was virtually impossible. Therefore, Triss knew she had to take these risks and headed off immediately...

Unaware that the situation was literally going to push herself to the limit.

And change her life as a sorceress forever.
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Wet Cherry of Truth