Iorveth was like a wall and you concluded for yourself that it was impossible to spend time with him. "Arrogant and proud turkey!" this is how your skirmishes and arguments with each other always ended, when in response he says with contempt, "Bloede dh'oine!" The Elven commander seemed to hate humans, but you of all of them the most. However, the members of the council and the residents of Vergen began to notice that if someone is in danger, then both of you will rush to help each other. Was there so much hate in it?

Tavern was a bustling place where dwarves and travelers liked to relax and drink. Yarpen Zigrin was laughing with the miners, his face was red from ale, men nearby stood in a circle to see who would win in fist fights and the waiter moved between tables with trays. Iorveth was smoking a pipe in the corner, sitting without heavy armor in a green shirt and pants, lazily watching everything around with his one eye.

He noticed how you were sitting at the same table with the bard Jaskier and passionately complained to him. How was it in your style, the elf thought and listened to their drunken conversation.

"Come on, you're acting like an old married couple with each other, but you both stubbornly deny it," Jaskier said with amusement and elbows you, chuckling. "However, I don't understand what you see in this old, rude and cold elf.