With Vesemir and Cirilla in bed, the rest of the witchers could relax-- they no longer had to be on their best behavior, or what passed for it, with their mentor and a child around. They could talk about things that they'd never speak of in front of Vesemir or Ciri, swap stories about hunts gone awry that would make their former teacher want to give them remedial lessons and sordid brothel tales that even a girl with a Skelligan grandfather shouldn't hear. (The latter had something of a practical purpose, too-- it's good to know which brothels are willing to host a witcher, even if you aren't going on a three-day binge of debauchery.)
Jaskier, however, has an idea for a game. Or, anyway, knows of one that goes well with drinking, and the rules for it are simple enough. He starts off strong, of course, picking a question that he knows very well will get all four of his witcher companions to drink. There is some mild grumbling about such a low blow, but all of them drink. Eskel is next on the go-around, gestures at Jaskier with his handful of cards.
"You should be careful, bard. You're easy to target, too." He puts down a card that makes Lambert curse, and says, "Never have I ever played a lute."
That will obviously catch Jaskier, and surprisingly, Coën too. The Griffin only shrugs in response, and just says, "I didn't play it well."
It's the Griffin's turn next, and he thinks about his question for a moment, watching Lambert try to recover in his card game. "Never have I ever... been eaten by a selkiemore."
"Gods willing you never will," Geralt says, and takes a drink. "Fucking reeks."
Thankfully, there aren't very many contracts ever put out to deal with selkiemore, since they're rare and, technically, not even carnivorous. If they ever swallow a person, it's usually on on accident, the poor soul just getting swept up into its maw while it trawls the water for plankton. Makes its guts reek something foul, though.
Lambert's up next, and considering that his game of gwent's going poorly, getting Eskel drunk might be the only way that he wins. "Never have I ever fucked a succubus," he says, and Eskel's the only one that takes a drink.
"A succubus?" Geralt says, eyebrows rising towards his hairline. Eskel grins and shrugs, apparently perfectly willing to leave the story there and let everyone wonder about it. Though Geralt's sure that he could get it out of him later, once he's good and sloshed; Eskel never holds out on out him for long.
Then it's Geralt's turn. "Hm. I've never... taught at Oxenfurt."
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Jaskier, however, has an idea for a game. Or, anyway, knows of one that goes well with drinking, and the rules for it are simple enough. He starts off strong, of course, picking a question that he knows very well will get all four of his witcher companions to drink. There is some mild grumbling about such a low blow, but all of them drink. Eskel is next on the go-around, gestures at Jaskier with his handful of cards.
"You should be careful, bard. You're easy to target, too." He puts down a card that makes Lambert curse, and says, "Never have I ever played a lute."
That will obviously catch Jaskier, and surprisingly, Coën too. The Griffin only shrugs in response, and just says, "I didn't play it well."
It's the Griffin's turn next, and he thinks about his question for a moment, watching Lambert try to recover in his card game. "Never have I ever... been eaten by a selkiemore."
"Gods willing you never will," Geralt says, and takes a drink. "Fucking reeks."
Thankfully, there aren't very many contracts ever put out to deal with selkiemore, since they're rare and, technically, not even carnivorous. If they ever swallow a person, it's usually on on accident, the poor soul just getting swept up into its maw while it trawls the water for plankton. Makes its guts reek something foul, though.
Lambert's up next, and considering that his game of gwent's going poorly, getting Eskel drunk might be the only way that he wins. "Never have I ever fucked a succubus," he says, and Eskel's the only one that takes a drink.
"A succubus?" Geralt says, eyebrows rising towards his hairline. Eskel grins and shrugs, apparently perfectly willing to leave the story there and let everyone wonder about it. Though Geralt's sure that he could get it out of him later, once he's good and sloshed; Eskel never holds out on out him for long.
Then it's Geralt's turn. "Hm. I've never... taught at Oxenfurt."