A "Trivial" Contract

The golden dawn pierced the night, striking the ancient temple steps like a spotlight. There, in the center of the beam, sat the "Lord of the Abyss"—the very terror of the village.

"Ready the sack, Dandelion." Geralt stared at the eyes glowing against the light and sighed deeply. He felt his career as a witcher had finally hit rock bottom.

"Perhaps the ealdorman was right. Maybe it really can sterilize cows," Dandelion whispered, unable to hide his amusement. "Look at that posture. More arrogant than a Nilfgaardian ambassador."

"That bounty pays for our stew, a hot bath, and a haystack, Dandelion," the Witcher said. "If we botch this, we'll be boiling your old boots for dinner."