Chapter 41

So many new people and smells! Dogmeat had to meet and sniff all of them!

Dogmeat was most surprised when Dogmeat and Loud One were taken away while Master was gone, Dogmeat bark a lot and bite them! They gave Dogmeat snacks after though so it turned out they were friends and Dogmeat licked them in return.

All the new ones smelt like earth, plants, sweat, blood and other stuff Dogmeat usually smell in green places. Dogmeat made sure that Dogmeat peed lots everywhere to let them all know Dogmeat was here and Dogmeat want to add Dogmeat's smell as well.

Some ignore Dogmeat, but some gave snacks and belly rubs! Dogmeat like those ones best!

The one who made weird sounds with stick talked to Master and Loud One lots. Dogmeat was very impressed, Dogmeat found many sticks but none that could make noise like that! Dogmeat howled a bunch to show Dogmeat appreciates sounds! Stick Sounder also gave best snacks and belly rubs, but only when no one looking or else would ignore Dogmeat.

Stick Sounder was weird, but Dogmeat could tell that Stick Sounder was good person who deserve licks.

Dogmeat, Master, and Loud One spend lots of time with new ones. About two bright warm yellow things run through sky, running away from pale round thing. Dogmeat knew it would get tired running one day and pale round thing will catch it!

Dogmeat was doing important business of chewing on thing one of shorter new ones put on feet when Stick Sounder started making lots of noises and new ones gathered together, Master and Loud One joining them.

It was pack business so Dogmeat also join, still chewing at same time because Dogmeat skilled in doing many things at once!

Dogmeat once chew and pee at same time! It was good day.

---

"Moril's disappeared," Iorveth said without preamble. "Mottle confirmed it this morning." He glared at me like it was my fault. Given what I suspected about the circumstances of her 'disappearance', I couldn't say that I blamed him.

"Considering what she was looking into I think we can guess where she has gone, and knowing Loredo I doubt he will be gentle. The only bright side is that she is probably still alive if only because he will want information out of her along with… other things." I said with disgust. "I don't want to say I told you so… but I did warn about getting her to move in too quickly. Loredo is many things, but an idiot is not one of them. So, what now?"

"Moril was able to confirm that the guard's patrol routine hadn't changed as of last night. Given her capture, we can't be sure that it won't change soon - and I don't want to leave an Aen Siedhe in Loredo's hands longer than I can help it. We attack tonight - and YOU are coming with us." Iorveth said to me in a tone that would broker no argument.

Ivar, sitting on a log near me, stared in shock. "You're making him come with you?!" he asked incredulously. "Are you trying to make Flotsam hate him?!"

"Even with the cave system allowing us to bypass most of Loredo's defenses it would still be unwise to assault the center of his power with that advantage alone." Iorveth's second in common, Ciaran, spoke up. "An assault group would have a much easier time if the guards were distracted. We have been raiding and causing trouble for Loredo since the end of the war, another attack on Flotsam's walls would not be out of place. That means, however, that we need as many skilled fighters with the assault team as possible." he stated diplomatically.

"Besides, no one in Flotsam will know if we kill all the witnesses who are not aligned to us." Iorveth stated, a little bloodthirsty. "Even you just covering our escape back out of the cave would be useful if you don't want to dirty your hands personally." He stated in a challenging tone.

Well, it wasn't like I didn't expect most of Loredo's people to die tonight… but I also had to be worried about messing with my perceived neutrality…

"You have any armor and weapons you can spare? I can hide my face pretty well and just pretend to be one of your troops. Besides, you don't need the perception of a Witcher helping out so much as just another skilled freedom fighter bringing down a corrupt human abusing their power." I suggested instead. If that one Viper School Kingslayer can do it why not me? Although I'm not sure the Kingslayers are people I want to find myself emulating on a regular basis...

"Heh, not bad thinking vatt'ghern. I'm sure we can gather up something for you to make you come across as presentable." Iorveth said with a smirk at the jape at my fashion sense. He was just jealous he didn't have superior grade armor. "Ciaran, you will lead most of the unit in a devisionary attack on the southeastern side of Flotsam to pull as many guards away as you can. Meanwhile I will lead the assault within to cut the head off this filthy snake in dh'oine shape."

"Yes sir, Commander." Ciaran nodded and turned off to gather up the other members of the Scoia'tael around us who were already preparing to move out.

"Toruviel, get the Witcher some equipment to change into. Ele'yas, you're in charge of guarding the camp and keeping an eye on our other guests, be on standby to assist Ciaran if needed." Iorveth directed to the two other high ranking elves who responded with "Yes sir" before going off to do their own duties.

Ivar came up to me, and for once he didn't seem to be putting on the role of the jovial, absent-minded professor. "Markus, a moment, if you please?"

I turned to Iorveth who only shook his head in exasperation before nodding and walking off, shouting out orders all the while.

"What's up Ivar? I know that this whole situation isn't ideal but I promise that it's the best thing I can think of." I tried to reassure him.

"Markus, you know I'm your friend, right?" Ivar was looking at the ground as he said this.

"I would hope the fact I haven't abandoned you in the middle of the night would say that we are." I tried to joke.

"It's just that… Well. I'm from Kovir, you know. Scoia'tael don't have much of a presence there, but even we've heard all of the nasty stories spread. I've seen otherwise in our time here, but still. It's one thing to tip them off about Loredo - he's a monster par none, in my opinion. But… Markus, if we're not careful, this could turn into a bloodbath. Not just for the Commandant and his supporters, but between the townsfolk too. I heard some of the stuff people were saying in the inn. They really don't like non-humans here, Markus. And Iorveth killing Loredo, justified or not, might be all the motivation they need to launch a pogrom here. Markus - what if innocent people die?" Poor Ivar was on the verge of tears.

… He wasn't wrong. It sadly took very little for Nordlings to blame their problems on non-humans, even ones they lived alongside for generations, the second something extreme happened.

"And it's not just the townsfolk," Ivar continued. "If they see you helping the Scoia'tael, they're going to run us out of town, at best. It's one thing for me to risk my life against monsters, or those mercenaries who tried to kill you and Bolt. I'm not afraid of that. But this is so much bigger than some idiots trying to kill a rock troll. If word of this spreads, there might be a bounty on your head. There might be a bounty on my head! I don't want to die, Markus!" OK, now he was in tears. Manfully trying to suppress them, sniffing and wiping his eyes with his sleeve, but tears nonetheless.

"I get what you are saying Ivar, I really do, but I am taking as many precautions as I can to make sure it doesn't come out to the worst case scenario. It is highly doubtful any of this directly connects to me, and it will certainly not connect to you or Dogmeat. You have my word there. As for what comes after this attack… I will do what I can to limit the damage done even if it comes at my reputation, because just like I couldn't let Loredo keep doing what he is doing I can't leave people to be persecuted."

"It's not just you anymore Markus. After our time at Oxenfurt, my reputation is connected to yours. I'm no racist, but if the faculty at the University of Lan Exeter find out I was involved with helping a Scoia'tael commando unit - Iorveth's especially - I could be disbarred from the school, or lose my degree." He braced himself. "All I'm trying to say is, this will go far beyond you and I. This could have ramifications for years to come."

"What do you want me to do then Ivar?" I asked honestly.

He looked around nervously. "I'm not going to leave now. Even if I wanted to, I'm afraid they might kill me as a potential security leak. I'm absent-minded, not stupid - I know what the Vrihedd Brigade got up to during the war, and Iorveth was one of their most famous members. But I can't come with you on this one. Besides," he worked up a painful-looking smile, "someone has to take care of Dogmeat while you're off fighting the 'snake in human skin'."

"I'm sorry I dragged you into this Ivar. Had I known your worries I would have considered your feelings more since I do value you as a friend. However, I've reached a point where I can't turn around from this and I would not blame you if you wanted to wash your hands of me if you thought it was the best way to move forward in your life. I have to do this and I hope that whatever happens afterwards you'll still be there if you want to be."

Ivar swallowed. "No… no, I won't do that. But next time, we really need to talk about this stuff before getting kidnapped and dragged into a Scoia'tael camp. To say nothing about plotting the death of the duly-appointed ruler of a town."

"That is a very fair point and I promise to do that in the future. If it means anything I never expected you to fight with us, I'm pretty sure Iorveth didn't even consider it either since he thinks you just a weak scholar rather than a master with a sling."

Ivar glared. "Don't joke about this, Markus. I'm honestly more concerned about him dragging me along as a hostage to help ensure your compliance. I wouldn't put it past him."

"Iorveth has his own honor, even if it is rather… extreme at times. When this works out though he will at least respect us and likely let us go on our way. He is also pragmatic enough to know not to bring a hostage on a military mission. Just stay put and I promise we will be back in a few hours at most." I said.

Iorveth came towards us, a length of rope in his hands. "All right, give me your hands Ivar. I need a hostage to make sure the Witcher doesn't try betraying us at the last minute."

Our jaws dropped, and Ivar looked as if Death itself had come for him.

Iorveth burst out laughing. "You should see your faces!" He flashed a vulpine grin at us. "No, no hostages this time, but after listening to your talk, I couldn't resist the temptation."

"... You are terrible, and also don't seem to understand the meaning of private conversations." I said dryly.

"I'm a commando leader. Around me, there are no private conversations. Speaking of which, after we get done here, I need to talk to Ivar about playing with the heartstrings of some of my men."

I just looked at Ivar. "Really? After the whole conversation we just had you were flirting with your hostage takers?"

Ivar blushed. "Lies! Lies and slander!"

Iorveth shrugged. "All right. But these ears of mine aren't just for show, you know. We need to move out soon, everyone is nearly ready."

It was at that point that Toruviel returned and shoved a bundle into my arms.

"Strip and get changed." She ordered.

"... Can I use a tent?" I asked shyly.

"No." was her reply.

Drat. I should be charging her for this!

As Ivar wandered off to take care of Dogmeat, Iorveth leaned in. "Your pet scholar is wiser than he looks. He's absolutely correct - if he tried leaving now, I'd kill him in a heartbeat." He backed off, noting the murderous glint in my eye. "He'll be fine, but take his words to heart. Your bleeding heart is going to get you killed one day. But with luck, today won't be it."

---

"This armor was not meant for people my size." I said, straining a bit in the tight-feeling Scoia'tael armor, elven sword hanging off my side. The low hood and facemask combo hid most of my features from sight.

I had left most of my gear with Ivar and Dogmeat but at camp and now Iorveth, Toruviel, myself, and a dozen other Scoia'tael were moving back through the cave underneath Loredo's compound, waiting for Ciaran's attack as our signal to move topside.

"Dh'oine tend to be bulkier than Aen Seidhe, and most Witchers I've met are rather brawny to begin with," Iorveth whispered. "Now stop complaining, or you'll alert the entire compound."

"Judging from the great deal of rushing feet I'm hearing I'm pretty sure they already are and that Ciaran has begun his diversion." I pointed out.

Iorveth glared at me. I shut up.

He then gave hand signals to his people and started up the ladder first, opening it just a bit to look at his surroundings before giving the all clear and calling us up behind him.

Loredo's final hours on this earth had come.

---

'I wonder if I can't get the Witcher to give me the formula for more of this "Hanged Man's Venom" as he called it. It certainly lives up to the name.' Iorveth thought as he crept behind and then quickly slit the throat of a patrolling guard before dragging his body behind a bush and out of sight.

The Witcher, Markus, had given him and his team enough to rub on their blades and even dip in their arrows. Apparently it was quite poisonous against humans, elves, dwarves, and even gnomes. Something about how they all had similar physiologies.

He had even given them a few bombs that would explode on contact. Nothing fancy, just standard Samum and Grapeshot grenades, but still would be quite useful in close quarters.

Iorveth wasn't sure what to make of the man. Coming out of nowhere, and almost literally handing him the keys to Flotsam? Deliberately going out of his way to clear the obstacles that had protected Bernard Loredo for so long? And then not asking for a reward? It truly boggled the mind.

Where did he get this information? Why was he helping them? Was his goal really just helping because he could? In Iorveth's experience people like that did not exist… but he also knew enough about dh'oine to know that Markus wasn't lying either. Frankly, the vatt'ghern was a horrible liar; he wore his heart on his sleeve and his emotions on his face - which in itself was disconcerting. Usually Witchers were a byword for stoicism and stunted emotional development, be it from childhood trauma or the mutation process that made them what they were - or both. Iorveth was old enough to have known several Witchers during their heyday, and Markus was not like them. He had the equipment, the skills, and the knowledge, but utterly lacked their attitude and perspective. It was the damndest thing, and Iorveth didn't like mysteries.

But that was an issue to be resolved another day. Spotting a guard up on the wall overlooking the edge of Loredo's compound, he pointed towards him. A commando drew their bow and sent an arrow through the guard's neck; he fell off the wall without more than a choked gasp.

With Ciaran drawing most of the guards away from the compound it was child's play for them to slay what few were around before coming to Loredo's den itself. The fighting would be more brutal in close quarters but nothing he wasn't experienced with. They were to split off to strike at different floors before meeting up after they were cleared out.

To Iorveth's right, Markus slinked up behind another guard and slid a knife between their ribs on the left side. From the angle, it looked like he was trying to get their lungs and heart at one go, but he misjudged the angle and simply punctured the lung. His other hand had reached up to cover the guard's mouth, muffling his yelp of pain. The guard lingered a bit, drowning in his own blood; Markus, for his part, looked horrified. Iorveth quickly stepped over and slit the guard's throat, finishing him quickly.

He was certainly no assassin. "End them quickly, or not at all, dh'oine," Iorveth hissed. "Don't start something you can't finish." A double-layered message.

"So-sorry. I've killed people before, but not like this." As if to prove his point, the next guard they encountered walked around the corner; Markus, despite his inexperience, was quick to silence him with a stab to the throat. The execution was still sloppy but at least he aimed for a surer place to kill the man quickly and with the usual enhanced ability Witchers possessed that even Iorveth had to acknowledge.

He didn't waste the words on that though. With the guards outside disposed of it was time to hit the tower.

---

Toruviel glared at the old woman sitting in the middle of the basement surrounded by equipment that wouldn't be out of place in an alchemist's lab, but she knew for a fact was not being used to brew potions. Lines of fisstech were laid out on a wooden table, and the woman had been in the process of wrapping them in small strips of paper when Toruviel and her fellow Scoia'tael had entered the room.

"What?! Who the hell are all you?! No knife-ears or walking beards in my basement! Get out, or my boy'll give you a hiding you'll never forget!" the old woman spat at them. The crown of flowers she wore did nothing to hide her physical and inner ugliness.

"Where is Moril? Don't make me ask again." Toruviel didn't waste anymore words on the filthy human before her that both peddled and partook in poison.

"Oh, deary me, what is this world coming to? Elves and dwarves, acting like they own the place. Bastards and brigands, the lot of them…" she muttered as she turned towards the table.

"Enough - where is-!" The old woman, with speed that belied her age, swept her arm across the table and sent a cloud of fisstech in Toruviel's face. She jolted backwards, but not before getting a hefty whiff of the stuff. The room immediately became fuzzy as vertigo took her. A shriek of hatred warned her of danger, but the fisstech kept her from focusing on anything.

"Lieutenant! Look out!" one of her subordinates exclaimed. One of the dwarves grabbed her by the belt and yanked her back, and in doing so saved her life. Acting on instinct she took her blade and swung high at the fuzzy outline in front of her; a pitiful wail and the spray of blood told her that she'd stopped her attacker.

She fell backwards onto the ground, alternately coughing and sneezing as she tried to get the fisstech out of her sinuses and mouth. One of the elves took their canteen and poured water over her face, giving her a mouthful with which to rinse out her mouth.

"Damned old dh'oine, didn't expect her to toss a whole cloud of fisstech at us. I suppose it's true what they say about a cornered rat." One of the other elves muttered.

"On the plus side the lieutenant's aim is still as good as ever." Another dwarf stated while pointing out the now headless old woman and the growing pool of blood by her neck while her head rolled off slightly.

Toruviel ignored them as she started shivering and shaking, the overdose hitting her full-force. Dammit! Now she would be out of the rest of the fight and would have to be dragged back to camp!

But as her heart started pounding in her chest like it was going to explode, she realized sitting out the fight might be the least of her problems.

---

Iorveth, Markus and the rest of the Scoia'tael quickly cleared the first and second levels of the tower, catching what guards that remained off guard their quick assault.

Iorveth watched as a dwarf brought his axe down onto a man's sword arm before following the strike through to his chest while an elf took aim and hit another in the shoulder with an arrow, giving his comrade a chance to end him with their own blade. Iorveth and Markus quickly took out most of the guards themselves with a mix of skill and experience, the guards so used to being little more than paid bullies that they had little chance to react when faced with actual opposition. So it was that when they reached the third and final floor that there was no resistance to their coming.

So it was no surprise to Iorveth at all that when they found Loredo it was with Moril in front of them while he held a knife to her neck.

Moril looked terrible; her eyes were bruised, her mouth swollen from repeated blows. Several of her fingers were bleeding from where she'd had nails torn out from the root; her exposed arms and legs showed numerous burns. Yet her eyes were fierce and defiant.

"Iorveth, you knife-eared whoreson, how did you get in here?!" Loredo demanded. The fat bald bastard was desperate for any form of control he could get.

"Dead men don't need to know anything. It's over Loredo, your men are busy elsewhere and what few remained are already slain. Question now is how you choose to die. As a coward, or as the soldier you claim to be?" Iorveth challenged.

Loredo glared at Iorveth and his companions hatefully; falling on Markus, he seemed to pass him over before noticing his cat-like eyes. His own widened in shock.

"You want to let the elf girl go." Markus spoke up suddenly, his hand outstretched and moving in strange patterns. Loredo blinked and shook his head, but his hands slipped down momentarily; Moril took the opportunity to headbutt Loredo and leap across the room, almost tackling the Witcher to the floor in the process.

With him dazed from whatever sorcery the Witcher did and Moril's own blow Iorveth went in for the kill. Loredo recovered just in time to attempt to deflect Iorveth's thrust with his knife; unfortunately for him, his disorientation kept it from being an effective parry and the Scoia'tael commander was able to run Loredo through the gut on his sword.

"Coward it is." Iorveth said before twisting his blade and slicing upwards, ending the man's worthless life once and for all.

As the eviscerated corpse hit the floor, Iorveth didn't smile, but he did feel satisfaction at seeing one less evil man in the world.

"Moril, are you alright?" Iorveth turned to see Markus lifting the elf woman up and his troops having entered into the room, which Iorveth now realized must have been Loredo's innterrogation room/sex dungeon judging by the shackles on the wall and equipment littered around.

To say nothing of the smell. Vile dh'oine.

"I'll live, more than I can say for the former Commandant. He wanted information about my spying more than he wanted a toy… I know what he did with those." a dark look crossed her face. "I fed him false information, things he wanted to hear. Nothing about the attack though."

"Good. Thank you for putting your safety on the line. We'll tend to your wounds once we are back at camp. We must move out before Ciaran pulls back the diversion and people realize what has happened." Iorveth stated.

"One more thing before we do that." Markus spoke up. "There will be blowback from this attack, but I know a way to make the most out of it."

Iorveth merely raised a brow. "Yes? Explain on our way out. But what do you have in mind?" The group started making their way towards the stairs, Moril being gently carried in the arms of one of the commandos.

"Loredo's cousin is the royal burgomaster and with him dead will likely be in charge of Flotsam. He was no doubt entangled with Loredo's illegal dealings and there should be proof of that in Loredo's office. We grab that and we own his ass. How does owning a government official sound to you, Iorveth?" Markus asked.

The elf in question gave a very toothy grin. "I like the sound of that very much."