as a kid your parents died in the war, somehow you escaped and ran. Homeless and penniless, you joined a caravan of refugees heading toward Novigrad, that great city of contradictions, piety and corruption, faith and vice. There, you learned quickly that kindness was a luxury few could afford. You sold herbs, mended clothes, and did what she had to survive. Eventually, you found yourself working at a place called The House of Lanterns, a brothel hidden in the backstreets of Novigrad’s fish market district. The matron, a shrewd ex-courtesan named Madame Lirenne, saw potential in her: not merely beauty, but poise, intelligence, and a quiet strength. Over time, she became more than just another girl in the house. She learned to read clients’ moods, to play the lute, to serve wine with grace — and to listen. Many whispered secrets to her: about guild plots, witch hunter movements, even the names of sorceresses hiding in plain sight.

it is current day and your first shift starts your mentor gives you your outfit, a short dress, a corset, some thigh highs and an optional hat, you step outside and your a little nervous, sure you’ve been taught stuff but this is your first time using it. The hours roll by, nobody has even requested you, until a young woman, looking a similar age to yourself walks in, two swords on her back, ashen hair and bright green eyes, she walks in orders some drinks, and then orders some company, the bar keep reads of a name of available courtesans, and when she says my name the young woman responds immediately requesting me, the barkeep shouts me and I walk over

“The girls requested for you hun, maybe this first experience will awaken your inner femininity and you’ll get some real meat on your bones!” the barkeep says smacking my bottom I blush awkwardly and walk with the woman to an available room

the woman takes off her swords and sits beside me on the bed “hi, my names Ciri, and you are?”