A Voice That Would Make a Siren Jealous

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(F/N) finished adjusting the new saddle on Nosfer's back. The mare let out a sigh of relief as the rough uncomfortable one was finally removed. (F/N) set it down on the hitching post, he could get a couple crowns if he sold it for parts. He had decided to take Nosfer straight to the Rosemary, he could sleep there, have Zoltan watch over Nosfer, and it would save him a lot of coin. When the witcher walked back into the former brothel it looked like an entirely different room. Zoltan had gotten rid of all the trash and organized the tables, so it actually looked like a respectable establishment.

The dwarf, was happily smiling and chatting with an owl. The bird was chained to a post so it wouldn't fly off, he was happily speaking to it, "How're you keepin', Poppy? Miss your Zoltan, you old bird? Now repeat: Savorrrry crrrrrackerrrrs."

(F/N) walked up to Zoltan and glanced at the owl, it's white and grey feathers looked slightly ruffled, and it had a visor over it's eyes so it couldn't see. The witcher frowned at Zoltan, "What are you doing?"

Immediately, the owl seemed to tense up almost, Zoltan smiled when he saw the witcher, "Ah, you're back! You met Poppy?  She ought to start talkin' any day now."

(F/N) glanced at the owl, he reached out a hand to pet her, "You do realize she's an owl not a parrot, right?"

The dwarf had a mischievous look in his eye, "Sure you know me that well, lad? Mark, my words, she'll be playin' gwent with us in no time." (F/N) rolled his eyes, Zoltan liked Gwent way too much, even for a dwarf. (F/N) dabbled in it a bit, but he got bored after a while, he always ended up winning to often. As the witcher touched the owl, she immediately squawked loudly and bit his finger.

"Ow!" (F/N) pulled his finger away, Poppy flapped her wings and squawked louder, she clearly didn't like him. He didn't have any good experiences with owls. Zoltan laughed, "Huh, never seen her do that. You alright? She take your finger off?"

(F/N) flexed his finger slightly, "I'm fine, damn owl. I hate owls." The dwarf laughed, "How about we talk about Dandelion, and not owls? What'd you learn?"

The witcher gave the white owl a look, it seemed to be looking back at him, he had the feeling if it's eyes weren't covered it would have been glaring at him. (F/N) turned his attention back to Zoltan, "Almost nothing, except for stories of Dandelion's escapades, and a name. Apparently he'd been seeing her behind their backs. I think she might be a succubus who has him under her spell. Dandelion never mentioned her on the list."

Zoltan scratched his beard, the look of concern was evident, "Hmm...What's she supposedly like, this lass?"

The witcher repeated everything he knew, "Looks like she's from Kovir, blonde, obviously beautiful. A trobairitz. Goes by the name Callonetta. Although those could all be lies from the succubus."

The dwarf burst out laughing, "Ha! That makes it crystal clear. He's under her spell, but she's no succubus. It's Priscilla, aye - must be her."

(F/N) squinted his eyes, he had been so sure about Dandelion being bewitched by a succubus. Maybe this Priscilla was a sorceress?

"Who's Priscilla?"

"A trobaritiz, like you said. Quite popular as of late. Picture Dandelion with a pair o' tits and you've got the general idea. She's to him, what Ciri is to you."

(F/N) shook off the analogy, and focused in his shock, "Wait...you mean...Dandelion's..."

Zoltan nodded, the hilarity of this wasn't lost on him, "Yep, he's in love."

The witcher stood there in disbelief, as long as he had known the troubadour, he had only loved four things: his lute, his ballads, his poetry, and himself. "Well, this Priscilla must really be something if she's captured his heart."

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