The Witcher: Geralt and the Gwent Tournament (part 2) - Sex Stories

The Witcher: Geralt and the Gwent Tournament (part 2)

Chapter 5: The Grand Tournament

Geralt awoke to the soft rays of dawn filtering through the window, illuminating a space where Sasha had been the night before. The faint scent of her perfume still hung in the air, a lingering reminder of their passionate encounter. As he reached for his armor, his fingers brushed against a note left on the nightstand. Unfolding it, he read Sasha's elegant ***********, her words teasing him with promises of another rendezvous after the tournament.

He walked to the washroom, the sound of running water a soothing backdrop to the thoughts that raced through his mind. With deliberate movements, he washed away the remnants of his night with Sasha, the cool water offering a respite from the heat that still burned within him. As he dressed, the familiar weight of his armor settled around him, a comforting reminder of the life he led outside the realm of pleasure and desire.

With each buckle fastened, he felt a sense of purpose return, his mind focusing on the upcoming tournament. He adjusted the straps of his swords, the familiar weight of the weapons a reassuring presence at his side. He took a deep breath, the scent of leather and steel mingling with the faint fragrance of Sasha that still clung to him

As he glanced around the room, his eyes landed on his notebook and bestiary, an odd sensation prickling at the back of his mind as he realized they were slightly out of place. With a furrowed brow, he took a moment to ensure nothing had ...

... been taken, his keen senses attuned to any signs of disturbance. Satisfied that all was in order, he shook off the feeling, determined to focus on the battles that awaited him in the day ahead. With his mind centered and his resolve steeled, he left the room, ready to face the challenges that awaited him in the grand tournament of Gwent.

As the first round commenced, the tension in the room heightened, and the subtle exchange of glances between the players hinted at a deeper game beyond the cards. He was pitted against the halfling, Bernard Tulle, in his first match.

Bernard’s gameplay was reckless. His careless approach to the game, both his lack of strategy and risky gambles made Geralt suspicious; he seemed more interested in chatting than in winning the game.

"So, a witcher has joined the tournament, eh?" Bernard's voice carried a light, friendly tone as he regarded Geralt with a curious glint in his eyes. At the same time he played a low-numbered card, a typical tactic to draw out a player's hand."What brings you to the tournament?" he inquired, a hint of genuine interest underlying his words.

Geralt's response was measured, his focus unwavering as he met Bernard's gaze. "The money and sport, just like everyone else," he replied, countering Bernard’s move, determined not to be swayed by the halfling's amiable demeanor.

"Not everyone, Witcher. For instance, that woman you were talking with earlier," Bernard continued, his voice laced with a subtle warning. ...