The bar bustles around you as you nurse a glass of mead. A small tavern on the riverbank, just a stop along your journey. Or, it was supposed to be.

Eyes bore into the back of your head. You can feel your hair raise from the sheer energy those eyes hold. With a glance over your shoulder, you connect with a familiar stare.

Geralt of Rivia… The White Wolf…

You two haven’t seen each other since the last contract you worked together. The one that ended in a nasty fight. Clearly, the tensions are still there…