Unlike the rough, intimidating mercenaries and smugglers gathered outside the tavern, the attendants at this establishment were well-dressed and polite. After Geralt demonstrated a small fire-starting spell with his palm, the attendants respectfully welcomed him inside.
"Please, this way, honored guest." Another group of attendants awaited him inside.
The exterior of the tavern resembled other buildings in White Harbor, white and indistinct. But inside, Geralt noticed the floor was made of fine stone, smooth and gleaming. The corridor was grand, with every wall adorned with gilded sculptures, and the air was filled with the aromas of fine wine and delicious food.
What surprised Geralt even more was that the attendants were actually mages! They wore the kingdom's emblem representing mages on their chests.
"May I ask your name?" Geralt inquired.
The attendant bent slightly and gestured for Geralt to follow him. "Here, you may call me 'attendant'."
"You're a mage, but why are you working as an attendant?" Geralt asked the one guiding him.
The attendant answered as he walked, "Mages need to eat, so we seek positions as advisors to noble lords. There are only so many lords across the continent, and for those of us who graduated late, it's hard to find work."
"Don't you need to leave your weapons outside?" Geralt asked, noticing they had just passed a place where weapons were stored.
"Haha, does it matter if a mage carries weapons?" The attendant took a cup of wine from a nearby cart and handed it to Geralt, casually flicking his finger against the metal cup, causing the wine to steam.
A destruction mage! Geralt also noticed that though the attendant's gestures were polite, they seemed unnatural, indicating he was likely a commoner mage who had graduated from a magic academy.
Geralt sniffed the wine in the cup, and regardless of whether it was poisoned, he drank it down in one go. "Ah, pear wine from Tyrosh, truly strong!"
"Heh, I guessed from your accent that you'd enjoy pear wine from Tyrosh, so I chose it for you. It's complimentary," the attendant replied, cautiously assessing the unfamiliar mage in front of him. He noticed Geralt's hair roots didn't seem dyed, and from the known records, there was no young mage with all-silver hair.
They arrived in the lounge, where a large fireplace made the room warm. Luxurious red leather sofas were arranged tastefully, and nobles and mages were scattered around, resting and chatting. Occasionally, an attendant led a guest into one of three small doors.
"Would you like any special services, honored guest? I believe you've sensed that we offer something unique here," the attendant said with a smile that only men would understand. He hadn't asked Geralt's name.
"Heh." Geralt grasped the wolf-head necklace around his neck, infused it with magic, and deactivated the internal mechanism, stopping the necklace from vibrating.
Snap! The attendant snapped his fingers, and another attendant approached from a nearby counter, handing Geralt a beautifully crafted album.
Opening the album, each page contained a simple introduction and portrait of a woman, with the images being exceptionally detailed. Geralt immediately recognized the work of the famous Tyroshian painter Enheria.
Enheria was notorious for painting women without clothes and had reached a level where he could tell a woman's true physique with just a glance, no matter how thick her clothes were. He was a frequent guest at banquets of the Tyroshian nobility and one of Geralt's early mentors.
"This one's from Braavos, full of exotic charm!" The attendant made a fitting introduction.
Geralt wasn't interested in these women and flipped through the album until he reached the last section, where a stunning brunette caught his attention.
Geralt's eyes brightened. The description next to her stated that she was 1.9 meters tall, and under the 'race' category, it read: Coldharbour Vampire.
He flipped a few more pages, and all the women in the following introductions were vampires. After some consideration, he chose the first one.
The two attendants exchanged a few words in hushed tones before turning to Geralt. "You're in luck, honored guest. Lady Miranda is available right now."
Geralt wasn't here to find a woman; he was investigating the female vampires and the trafficking of gray ash. This involved someone secretly turning people into vampires in large numbers, and the situation was serious!
The attendant took the album back and stood. "Honored guest, the overnight fee is ten golden dragons."
"Here!" Geralt, deep in thought, instinctively pulled the money from his pouch.
In the end, he couldn't resist temptation, like any young man. The attendant accepted the golden dragons with a slight smile and led Geralt through a red door.
Inside was another large room, where several stronger mages were resting. A wide stone staircase led down to the second underground level.
This place didn't feel ominous, and like the upstairs hall, it was adorned with luxurious decorations. Walking along the thick carpet, the attendant led Geralt to a door with "Miranda" written on it.
"Honored guest, please enter." The attendant opened the door.
Geralt stepped into the room, his keen sense of smell immediately detecting the fragrance of winter snow roses mixed with the unique scent of undead creatures.
"Tomorrow morning, a maid will bring breakfast. I wish you a pleasant night." As soon as Geralt entered the room, the servant immediately closed the door behind him.
The servant returned to the hall, where a few other attendants quickly gathered around. "My lord, is it really okay to take him directly to the vampire?"
The servant stood taller than before, clearly holding a higher position in the place. "The greedy mercenary Bronn has already sold me his information. Geralt, from Tyrosh."
"Ah! Geralt, the adopted son of the Archmage Wright? If he takes the news out, we're done for!" Several of the attendants were low-ranking mages.
"As long as he makes it through the night and enjoys the pleasures of the female vampire, he will be reluctant to leave." The servant was confident.
"What if he doesn't?" One attendant straightened a finger and then slowly bent it.
"Heh, do you think someone in this business would have no backing?" The servant took out paper and pen from the counter and began writing a letter. "Take this letter to the mermaid tavern near the docks. Show the owner this mark."
He finished speaking, removed the ruby embedded in his ring, pressed it into the seal wax, and placed the mark on the paper.
"I'll use invisibility and go. I'll be back soon!" A mage attendant took the letter and headed out, also observing the letter. This was his first time seeing this mark—a small bottle in the guard of a slightly curved dagger, which didn't match any family crest.
Only Geralt and the beautiful female vampire remained in the room.
The gauze curtain was pushed aside by a hand, and a woman, whose clothing seemed incredibly tempting to Geralt, slowly walked toward him. The dim light made her body appear even more mesmerizing, though in Geralt's altered eyes, it was as bright as daylight.
The female vampire walked with graceful steps and stood beside Geralt. "Why don't you take off your sword?"
Geralt noticed the vase on the table, which held a bouquet of winter snow roses. This flower was unique to the North, used as an alchemical material. Despite multiple attempts to transplant it, it only thrived in places like Winterfell, where hot springs kept the land warm.
Geralt was struck with shock. "Could my grandfather Eddard or my father Robb have frequented Miranda's place?"
Geralt dared not look at the female vampire's beautiful face, lowering his head as he repeatedly muttered to himself: I am a righteous mage, and I will not rest until these monsters are destroyed!
"You're quite interesting," the female vampire said as she reached out her hands and cupped Geralt's face.
Looking up at the woman, who was a head taller than him, Geralt felt her cold hands, and goosebumps ran down his body.
---
Not far from Geralt's room, Bronn, Sandor, and Jaqen crawled through a few sewers and arrived near a stone trapdoor.
Snow drifted in front of the three of them through the iron bars above. There was no fire, and the temperature was extremely low.
"We'll wait for him here!" Bronn was determined not to let go of Geralt, the golden fish in front of him.
Sandor and Jaqen crossed their arms and felt the cold.
---
About two hours later, Geralt was leaning against the head of the bed, a snow-white, slender arm wrapped around his waist.
The hand rubbed against the woman's silver neck collar. Geralt asked, "Miranda, why did you choose to become a vampire? You must know this is a path of no return!"
The woman, holding a lock of her brown hair, traced it on Geralt's body as a soft, sorrowful voice came from her lips:
"My father is a mason. He fell while repairing the city wall and has been paralyzed from the waist down. My mother fell ill while trying to support the family. I have three younger brothers and a sister, and they're still small. As the eldest, I can't watch them starve."
"That's a truly unfortunate family," Geralt said, patting her smooth back. "Have you considered saving enough money to return home?"
"I have, but I don't know how long it will take. The owner here takes a large cut," Miranda said, moved, as she tightly wrapped her arms around Geralt's waist.
With the beauty in his arms, Geralt felt quite pleased. "Perhaps I can help you."
Geralt raised his hand toward his clothes lying on the table, and with a flick of his fingers, a coin pouch flew out and into Geralt's palm, containing ten gold dragons.
Geralt grabbed Miranda's hand and placed the gold coins into her palm. "Send the money to your family. As for your vampire identity, if you need help, you can always find me. I'm Geralt! Geralt from Tyrosh!"
"You're really too handsome! Have you rested enough?" Miranda leaned in to kiss Geralt.
---
"How much longer do we have to wait?" Sandor's mustache was covered with ice.
"A little longer. Geralt... Geralt is a powerful mage. He must have noticed the clues and is investigating!" Bronn's speech was slurred as he shivered, unable to control his teeth from chattering.
Jaqen leaned against the wall, his knees covered in snow, his teeth chattering from the cold.
The adopted son of the kingdom's wealthiest duke, Bronn didn't want to miss the business opportunity. "This is a big deal!"
---
Late that night, Geralt pushed Miranda's hands off him, got up, and began to dress.
"Are you leaving now, little brother?"
"I still have a mission of justice to complete!" Geralt spoke with pride, hoping to save her from this pit of fire.
"Hehe, the righteous hero!"
"By the way, how did you become a vampire?" Geralt asked casually.
"Become a vampire?" Miranda began to recall.
"Ah~~!" A cry escaped her lips, and she shrank back, burying her head in the pillow.
For years, Miranda had been trying to forget that terrifying figure, but it still occasionally appeared in her mind. When it did, her body would involuntarily tremble.
"What's wrong?" Geralt finished putting on his armor.
"Nothing. I don't know when I'll see you again. Will you come find me?" Miranda curled up in bed, looking like a kitten about to be abandoned.
Geralt, now fully dressed, strapped two longswords to his back and approached the bed. He leaned in close to Miranda, his eyes gazing at her with a touch of sadness in his tone.
"I've been playing in open colleges since I was young, trying to guide others to turn their lives around, but I've never succeeded."
Miranda was shocked; she hadn't realized this mage wasn't a newcomer to such matters. "Then why did you give me money?"
"Maybe because I can't hear your heartbeat, I can't tell if you're lying. So, I'll just assume you're the first woman to listen to my advice." Geralt embraced Miranda and kissed her gently on the forehead.
"Fight to live!" After leaving those words, Geralt stood tall and walked out of the room.
"I really am Miranda, from the Dreadfort!"
Upon hearing the voice coming from the room, Geralt smiled, walking down the hallway alone. "it seems I get a useful information after all."
Touching the empty pouch at his waist, Geralt muttered to himself. As he noticed flower vases lined along the corridor, he glanced around, ensuring no one was watching. After casting a silent spell, he kicked one of the vases to pieces.
He moved the flowers into another vase, tucked the broken ceramic shards into his pouch, and gave it a small shake, producing a strange sound.
"As long as it doesn't make noise, no one should catch on," Geralt thought, his pouch now bulging again.
Behind the red door, there was a female vampire. The yellow door was for humans. So the blue door was likely where they sold vampire dust.
"How much stock do you have?" In the now quiet hall, with only a few non-magical night guards remaining, Geralt called over one of the attendants.
"I'm not sure what you mean, Ser," the attendant feigned ignorance.
Geralt pressed his palm to the coffee table, and a small magic circle spread out from his hand onto the surface of the table. "You work here, you should know what kind of magic circle this is."
The attendant nodded. "Yes, it's a basic alchemy material purification magic circle."
"I'm short on materials," Geralt said, tapping his bulging pouch.
"Please wait a moment." The attendant nodded and pulled a rope behind the counter.
Soon after, the blue door opened, and a groggy mage walked out, grumbling, "Who would be awake at this hour buying things?"
The attendant pointed toward Geralt. The mage turned and froze when he saw Geralt's white hair. Panic began to rise within him.
"Ser, all the materials are sold out for today. Please come back tomorrow."
Geralt walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, and smiled widely. "No, I need several kinds of materials. You have them here."
Before the wizard could protest, Geralt, with his strength, threw him toward the blue door.
The wizard's hand dropped, and he waved it subtly toward the attendant. The attendant understood and, after the blue door closed, rushed out of the hall to send a distress signal to the other mages.