After Letho had gone upstairs with the lady, Roy stopped cheating as much. He knew he should lay low, so he lost a couple matches on purpose after winning a few. His opponent didn’t lose too much, and people didn’t think he won too much either. In reality though, he won quite some crowns. Twenty in an hour, but nobody realized he was cheating.
On the other hand, Roy noticed his opponent — a man in his thirties — cheat right under his nose. Gee, and I thought I was shameless enough. He could see how the man was cheating clearly, thanks to his seven points in Perception. It’s so dumb it’s laughable. He didn’t make a fuss right away though. He was only a weak child after Letho had gone upstairs. If he were to anger the locals, he’d have to disturb Letho’s fun time.
“You won a lot, boy. Why don’t you treat us to a drink?” The pasty, bearded man thought Roy was a gullible boy who couldn’t see through his cheating. He quickly took away ten crowns from Roy, much to the boy’s surprise. Roy watched on, dumbfounded, and the man scoffed at him.
Lucky, the bearded man thought. This is one easy prey. The kid’s a coward. Going to be a good day today. Once again, he tried to take from Roy, but this time, it was his deck — the Skellige deck everyone wanted.
Everyone looked on in curiosity, anger, fear, and delight, but none stood up for Roy.
“Poor boy. Sparrow Triad’s out for him.”
“He shouldn’t have stayed here alone. Should ask for the witcher’s help now.”
Then, Roy slammed something onto the table. All anyone saw was a flash in a blur, and next thing they knew, a dagger caked in dried blood had lodged itself into the Gwent deck, right between the bearded man’s fingers. If he’d gotten any closer to the deck, his hand would’ve been the thing that was stabbed.
“Goddammit!” The man pulled back his hand as fast as possible, his pasty face turning deathly pale in shock. “W-where did this dagger come from? I-I didn’t notice it.” And then he realized he’d embarrassed himself. He was an adult man, but a scrawny boy had managed to scare him. “Do you know who I am, you little bastard?” He flew into a rage. “You’re crossing the Sparrow Triad now, boy. Your days are numbered!”
Roy ignored the threat. He touched the crowns on the board with his left hand, and it disappeared without a trace. Then, he pulled his dagger out of the cards and blew on it gently. He’d changed after killing the bandits outside Aldersberg. Roy had killed animals, humans, and even monsters. The man before him was inexplicably funny despite his angry looks and threatening words.
“Oh, sorry.” Roy smiled mirthlessly. “I’d come across wild dogs, drowners, and ghouls the entire time I followed the witcher around. Gotten used to having a weapon with me just in case. Well, I have to cut the heads off those monsters, or else…” Roy squinted at the man, his face contorted with an eerie cruelty far beyond his age. “They’re going to kill me.”
The bearded man’s heart sank, and he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. For an instant, he saw a bunch of crimson tentacles coming for him, and the boy was the source of them, but when he looked at Roy again, the tentacles were nowhere to be found. Even so, he felt a chill creeping up on him. This kid’s weird. Better not fight him for now.
“Fine. You got guts, boy. You can live for a while longer, but only because I’m not armed today. You’d better watch out the next time you’re on the streets. The Sparrow Triad has its eyes on you,” he spat, and he backed off swiftly. When he was near the inn’s door, he felt something cold brushing across his head. The man reflexively touched the spot, and he met nothing but skin; his hair was gone.
The man gasped and turned around, only to see the dagger that had almost claimed his fingers embedding itself into the wall, its handle still quivering.
“You can leave after you give me back my sixteen crowns,” Roy said coldly.
After the bearded man left the crowns behind and escaped in fear, everyone had lost their gusto for Gwent, fearing the revenge of the Sparrow Triad. A moment later, they scurried away in every direction.
Roy rubbed his numb arms and retrieved the dagger. That took all I had. It almost flew out of control. “That was close. I almost shot him in the head. That would have caused trouble.”
Roy finally felt the side effects of the unbalanced development of his body. If his Dexterity was higher, he would have had better coordination, and the dagger throw wouldn’t have taken as much of a toll as it did.
When the innkeeper noticed Roy had his head down, he thought the boy was scared. “You’d better leave as soon as possible, my friend. You can’t take on a group of them no matter how good you are in combat.”
“Not to worry,” a rough, deep voice said, and Roy heard heavy footsteps coming from behind. “Allow me to introduce myself.” A dwarf in a beret and fitted cape came up to Roy. The dwarf’s shirt extended to his knees, and he was wearing a pair of pointed shoes paired with mid-calf socks. He was a bona fide dwarf.
Roy’s eyes widened in surprise. It was the first time he’d seen a non-human species after crossing over to the Witcher world. Or, to be more precise, an ancient species. The dwarf was barely five feet, and he was shorter than Roy, but he was tall compared to the average dwarf.
“I am Seville Hoger, a wine merchant living in Aldersberg.”
“Hello, Mr. Seville. I’m Roy. Let me guess…” Roy steepled his fingers under his chin. “You’re not here for me.”
Seville’s belly jiggled. “Yes.” He had a gruff, hard voice, as if he were pushing it down. “I received news of a witcher’s arrival in Aldersberg, and I’m here for him. May I ask what school he’s from? Of course, I’ll chase off that little sparrow for you no matter what.”
“He’s not from Cat School. Don’t worry.” Man, Cat School really knows how to antagonize everyone.
“I’ll take care of that little sparrow for you as a token of my friendship. Gro, put the guests’ bill on my tab,” he told the innkeeper before leaving without hesitation.
As Roy saw him off, the boy’s eyes turned starry for a moment. Whoa, that dwarf’s seventy? Not obvious at all! So dwarves do have long lives, just like the legends told me. Nothing spectacular about his stats though. However, Roy noticed three interesting abilities of his.
‘Resilience (Passive): Dwarves live long lives and possess powerful life forces. An adult dwarf has twenty more HP than humans.
Strong body (Passive): Dwarves are known for their proficiency with two-handed weapons and their great stamina. An adult dwarf has one more point in Strength and Constitution than humans do.
Stout (Passive): Their stout, fat bodies make them move slower than normal humans. Their looks are undesirable by every other race. Some even despise dwarves for their looks. Their Dexterity and Charisma are deducted by one point.’
Roy thought those skills could be called talents. And he wondered. If dwarves have talents, why don’t humans? No, we do have talents. Or else strong, long-living races like dwarves and elves wouldn’t be backed into a corner by humans.
Then the innkeeper broke his train of thought. “Lucky break, my friend. Mr. Seville came to check the accounts today. Since he’s going to intervene, there’s nothing to worry about now. The Sparrow Triad isn’t your problem anymore.”
“I thought he was just a wine merchant. Does the criminal underworld fear him?” Roy asked curiously.
“The wine industry is monopolized by the dwarves here since they are from an ancient race famous for their wine brewing and blacksmithing. As the nephew of Mahakam’s elder dwarf, Brovar Hoger, Mr. Seville is responsible for the wine business in Aldersberg. The Sparrow Triad have to respect him if they want to survive in the city.
“What’s his trouble then?”
“Mr. Seville…” Gro sighed. “He’s been haunted by a nightmare for months now. He thinks phantoms are the culprits.”
