Cain stepped out of the inn, fully into the open square beyond the inn, the sound of the town crashing over him like a wave.
The port town had transformed into something halfway between a festival and a fishing town. Colorful banners bearing the golden lion of Cintra fluttered from rooftops and poles. Stands had been erected around a large packed arena, merchants were everywhere selling their goods. Cain could tell the town cleaned up real well.
Certain area's in the town moved their trash but the distinct scent's lingered somewhat. But the smell of ocean air was more alive then fish.
Merchants shouted over one another, hawking skewered meat, spiced wine, charms for luck, and cheap steel blades meant to look impressive rather than functional. The air smelled of salt from the sea, sweat, smoke, and anticipation.
Cain's Witcher senses catalogued everything automatically. The footsteps, smells and scents, the subtle tension humming through the crowd. This wasn't just a celebration. This was a opportunity a lot of people were gonna take advantage of.
He caught up to Callum and Calanthe, who he saw near the edge of the square, where a group of locals clustered around a man loudly explaining the tournament rules. As Cain approached, Calanthe flicked her gaze toward him, then immediately turned away, murmuring something to Callum before both of them stepped aside, leaving Cain momentarily standing alone.
Cain sighed inwardly and stepped closer anyway.
"So," he said, keeping his tone neutral, "what's going on?" Calanthe crossed her arms and spoke without looking at him. " A swordsmanship tournament. Apparently it's a open bracket. The Queen and some other nobles are in attendance."
Cain froze for half a heartbeat. Queen Calanthe will be here? I don't know if this is luck or divine intervention, but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth. His mind reeled. The Lioness of Cintra. One of the most powerful political figures in the North. Proud, ruthless, but pragmatic, and standing at the center of several future turning points he knew all too well.
"That saves us a lot of time," Cain muttered under his breath. Callum finally spoke, his voice flat but focused. "There's prize money to . First place gets five hundred ducats."
Cain turned sharply. "Five hundred! thats quite a fortune, I wonder how much that is in crowns?"
Callum nodded. "Roughly fifteen hundred crowns. Depending on the exchange rates when doing them."
Cain stared at him. "How do you know that so easily, what are you a mathematician?"
Callum looked at Cain with a confused expression. "What's a mathematician?"
Calanthe shrugged. "Callum's always been good with numbers. He helped our mother, and other villagers budget food, and costs. He even helped with trade disputes when merchants passed through Hillstead. Very surprisingly he has a unusual talent for these types of things."
Cain glanced at Callum again, seeing him in a new light. Another thing he never knew about. While Callum just stood there with a stoic expression.
Callum continued, unfazed. "Anyway. Second place gets two hundred and fifty ducats. Still worth entering. So even if you lose at the finals, it's still worth entering."
Cain exhaled slowly. That kind of money could fund gear, supplies, bribes, information months of freedom, or be good to add to the Kaer Morhen savings. "What do you say we enter?" Callum asked. Calanthe smirked and flicked her long red hair back. "Swords aren't my thing gentlemen. I'll leave that to you two Witchers." She paused, then added casually, "But you do have that letter of introduction Cain. You could try to meet the Queen directly."
Cain shook his head. " True but not like this." He gestured vaguely at himself. " Look at me. I'm Brown-skinned. Half-elf, and Witcher to. I've already been getting looks since we entered town. I doubt the Queen wants to see a no-name foreign looking mutant unless I prove myself first. But you are a sorceress, you could meet here offering to be a fulltime advisor. You don't have to do it, but I don't remember hearing if Cintra has a mage advisor."
Calanthe sighed, half-annoyed, half-resigned. "You sound just like Headmistress Vries. Funny enough, before I left she was asking me to replace a sorcerer named Stregobor. Apparently he advisor the kingdom every now and again, especially after the kings death, The Headmistress is picky about these things, And he wants a full time replacement so he can pursue his own studies."
Cain's stomach tightened and mind raised at the mention of the name. Stregobor. The man whose paranoia nearly drowned Blaviken in blood. He forgot that he was in Cintra before Mousesack came and took the role. He guessed this was another reminder that he had to move carefully, almost everything in this world in intertwined.
Calanthe continued, unaware of Cain's thoughts. "I can introduce myself. I know him, somewhat. I won't say we are on the greatest of terms, but there is a mutual respect." She gave a subtle nod toward Callum, something unspoken passing between them. Cain noticed it but didn't comment.
Then it happened. The world dimmed slightly at the edges of Cain's vision. A familiar blue interface slid into place before his eyes.
System Notification: Rare Quest Received
Objective: Enter the swordsmanship tournament and reach the finals and or win.
Optional Bonus: Fight without magic or Witcher Signs.
Display exceptional swordsmanship, discipline, and knightly conduct.
Impress Queen Calanthe and others.
Rewards: 1 Rare Chest. +1 Ability Point
[Accept / Decline]
Cain stared at the optional bonus. No magic or signs Signs, but Pure skill. A good test, he had felt he was getting to focused on magic anyway. He smiled faintly and selected Accept.
"Then we have a plan then. Let's go sign up," he said to Callum.
Calanthe adjusted her hair and turned away. " Then I'll go and speak with the nobility. Try not to embarrass yourselves." She paused, then added to Callum alone, "Good luck." With that, she walked off toward the elevated stands being prepared for the Queen's arrival.
Cain watched her go, then exhaled slowly. One step at a time Cain, for you a lot has happened, but for them it was basically yesterday.
The registration area was cordoned off near the arena's eastern gate. A long table sat beneath a canopy, flanked by guards in Cintran armor. A knight stood behind the desk, arms crossed, his expression sour as he watched the crowd. He had the look of not wanting to be there.
As Cain and Callum approached, the knight's eyes narrowed. "Witchers and ones a halfbreed?" he scoffed. "Here for the tournament? Let me guess, coin."
Cain and Callum said nothing. Their expressions remained unreadable. "Well, mutants," the knight continued, "unless either of you plan on becoming knights, which I doubt will happen, you're wasting your time. Lord Eist won't take your kind as squires. Only commons, nobles and Skelligan warriors"
Cain new he needed to try a different approach, so he stepped forward slightly, his golden eyes catching the light of the sun in them.
His voice was calm, almost pleasant and charismatic. "Friend," he said, which surprised Callum and the knight. "I think that decision belongs to your Lord, not you. We're new Witchers making our way in the world. We'd like to redeem our reputation, and show that we a more then monster killers, if you don't mind."
The knight paused for a moment processing the words, Cain gave, then he spat to the side. "Listen here, you mutant half-breed...."
"Knight Dred." The words cut through the air like a blade. Everyone froze. A rugged man stepped forward, broad-shouldered, sun-kissed skin, wearing noble robes and authority like it was his skin. His presence alone quieted the noise around the table.
It was Eist Tuirseach. Behind him walked a tall, lean, and handsome looking red-haired man. A knight in Cintran armor, posture sharp and his eyes were attentive. And beside them. Cain's breath caught, was an elven woman.
Dark gold hair fell down her shoulders, and shined like spun metal. Her pointed ears were unmistakable, her beauty ageless and refined. Blue eyes sharp and piercing into his being. She wore a green dress traced with gold thread, and a elegant design of nobility. Cain's and Callums Witcher Medallion vibrated from her presence.
The knight at the desk stood up, and snapped to sharp attention. "Lord Eist! Knight Tristan! How can I help you?"
"You've helped enough with everything I saw," Eist said flatly. "You treat prospective entrants like this?"
"But my lord they are Witcher's, and a half breed..."
Eist got close to the knight. " That is no excuses." Eist's gaze hardened. "I don't care if they're Witchers, elves, or godsdamned dragons. You show all participants respect. Understood, and?"
"Yes, sir." Then the redhaired man stood close to the knight. "Let me hear one more word about, elves, and half breeds, and you will answer to me. Understood Sir Dred?" The knight gulp and looked nervous, but stayed composed. "Yes ser Tristen,"
Eist turned to Cain and Callum. "Apologies for that poor display. He will be disciplined later, but I must say. I never imagined Witchers joining this tournament. May I ask why?"
Cain nodded. "My lord me and my fellow Witcher just happened to be passing by this town. We thought it would be some good money, help us with another one of our goals."
Tristan smiled faintly. "Why is that Callum? Tristan said walking towards Callum. Cain then noticed small features in their faces that matched. The nose, cheekbones. While Tristan's was a deep blue and Callum's were emerald green. Plus their hair color were different shades. Tristans was a darker red like Meressa's.
They could be related he thought, a cousin or uncle maybe. Callum inclined his head. "Good to see you, Uncle."
The knight's face went pale.
"Is that all the greeting I get? I haven't seen you in nearly a decade. But I'm glad you survived the Witchers mutations. Your damn father, if only I was a knight then, I would have taken you away from that place, and made you my squire."
Callum gave a small smile. "It's fine Uncle. I learned a lot of things being a Witcher, not to mention I met Cain who..." Callum paused the words stuck on his tongue. "Cain is someone I can trust to have my back in any situation."
Tristan nodded, and noticed the small tension in Callum's words. "Aye then nephew we will have much to talk about after the tournament. There will be a big feast, I believe the queen will welcome you two as my guest.
Cain blinked not expecting that. Eist laughed once, sharp and amused. "So this is Callum, he looks like he could be your younger brother or son. I guess strong blood does run in your family."
Then the elven woman stepped closer, her gaze lingering on Cain with intense curiosity. A voice suddenly whispered in his mind. I have never seen one like him before, those eyes, that hair, his skin this magical presence. And a Half-breed… maybe Aen Seidhe?
Cain stiffened. Is this the woman? is she trying to communicate or am I just hearing her thoughts? Who is she? Cain then focused instead on the present as Eist handed them wooden badges.
" There you go. You both have been entered. Write your names on this parchment and head inside."
Cain nodded. "Thank you." Eist waved it off and turned away with Tristan and the elven woman.
The two signed their names and passed through the gate. Inside, the staging area buzzed with tension. Young and older men gripping swords too tightly. Veterans stretching scarred arms. Peasants whispering insults.
"Damn mutants, and non humans" someone muttered. Callum leaned closer. "Ignore them." Cain nodded, eyes forward. He had a tournament to win. And some important people were watching.