Chapter 6: A Night in Novigrad

The bustling city of Novigrad greeted the Witchers with a cacophony of sounds and a kaleidoscope of colors. Streets were lined with vendors selling their wares, while performers entertained passersby with acrobatics and music. It was a city of contradictions, where beauty and danger coexisted in perfect harmony.

Geralt, Eryk, and Bjorn made their way through the crowded streets, their senses alert to the myriad of scents and sights that surrounded them. Novigrad was a place of opportunity, where they could find lucrative contracts and perhaps some respite from their relentless journey.

As night fell, the city took on a different allure—the glow of lanterns illuminated the alleys, and the atmosphere became charged with a sense of excitement and intrigue. The Witchers found themselves drawn to the Passiflora, a luxurious brothel rumored to be frequented by both nobility and criminals alike.

Inside, the Passiflora was a haven of opulence and indulgence. Elaborate tapestries adorned the walls, and the air was filled with the scent of incense. The madame, a woman of striking beauty and cunning, welcomed them with a knowing smile.

"Ah, Witchers," she purred, "We don't often get your kind here. But rest assured, we cater to all desires."

Geralt smirked. "We're not here for pleasure, but information. Rumors say this place attracts a diverse crowd."

The madame's smile widened. "Indeed it does. We have ears everywhere. What kind of information are you seeking?"

"We're interested in any unusual happenings or whispers of magical artifacts," Eryk chimed in.

The madame leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "There have been rumors of a powerful sorceress frequenting the city—a woman with a dark agenda. Some say she's seeking a powerful artifact—a relic of immense power. It is said to be hidden in the catacombs beneath the city."

Bjorn's eyes narrowed. "Do you know anything else about this sorceress? Her name, perhaps?"

The madame hesitated, then shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know her name, but she's said to be cunning and dangerous. Be careful if you decide to pursue her."

Geralt nodded, thanking the madame for the information. As they made their way out of the Passiflora, the Witchers discussed their next move.

"We should investigate the catacombs," Eryk suggested. "If this sorceress is searching for a powerful artifact, it could be a threat to the entire region."

Bjorn agreed. "We can't let her get her hands on something that dangerous."

Geralt weighed the options, his mind racing with possibilities. "Alright, but we need more information. We'll have to gather intel and plan our approach carefully."

The Witchers spent the night gathering information from various sources, subtly inquiring about the mysterious sorceress and the catacombs. It seemed that she was elusive, leaving few traces of her movements.

As dawn broke, they decided to head to the local temple—an ancient place of worship that held the secrets of the city's past. The temple's priests were known for their knowledge of the catacombs and the history they held.

Upon reaching the temple, they were greeted by an elderly priest with kind eyes and a warm demeanor. Geralt approached him, explaining their quest for information.

"Ah, the catacombs," the priest said, stroking his long beard. "They are a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers, dating back centuries. But they are also dangerous—many have gotten lost within their depths, never to be seen again."

"We're prepared for the risks," Bjorn replied. "We need to find someone, a powerful sorceress, who may be seeking an artifact hidden there."

The priest's eyes widened. "A sorceress, you say? This complicates matters. She may possess magic that could prove to be a formidable challenge."

"We'll face whatever comes our way," Eryk assured him.

The priest nodded, providing them with a rough map of the catacombs and a few cryptic clues about the artifact's location. Armed with this information, the Witchers set out into the depths of the catacombs, their hearts brimming with determination and caution.

As they descended further into the underground labyrinth, the air grew cold and the walls seemed to close in around them. The catacombs were a maze of dark passages and forgotten chambers, filled with the bones of the city's past inhabitants.

It was not long before they encountered their first obstacle—an ancient riddle carved into the stone wall.

"To seek the power that lies ahead, answer me this riddle," Bjorn read aloud. "What can be cracked, made, told, and played?"

The Witchers exchanged puzzled glances, pondering the riddle's meaning. They considered various possibilities, but none seemed to fit all four parts of the riddle.

Suddenly, Eryk's eyes lit up with realization. "It's a code," he said. "Each word corresponds to a letter in the alphabet—C for cracked, M for made, T for told, and P for played. We need to decipher it."

Using their combined knowledge and wit, they quickly decoded the riddle, revealing a hidden lever that unlocked a secret door. Beyond lay a chamber of ancient texts and artifacts, a treasure trove of knowledge and history.

As they perused the ancient tomes, they came across a passage detailing a powerful relic—a talisman of immense magic, said to have the ability to control minds and bend reality to its wielder's will.

"This must be what the sorceress is after," Geralt surmised. "It's no wonder she's gone to such lengths to find it."

But their search was interrupted by the sound of footsteps echoing through the chamber. The Witchers drew their swords, preparing for an encounter.

To their surprise, it was not the sorceress they encountered, but an unexpected ally—an elderly mage with a long, flowing beard and a kind face.

"I am Corwin," the mage said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I've been searching for the relic as well, to keep it from falling into the wrong hands."

The Witchers eyed Corwin warily, their instincts honed by years of experience. But something in the mage's demeanor seemed genuine, and they decided to hear him out.

"We seek the sorceress who seeks this relic," Bjorn said, his grip on his sword relaxing slightly. "She poses a great threat to the region."

Corwin nodded, understanding their concerns. "I too have heard of her dark intentions. She seeks to control the minds of others, using the relic to bend them to her will."

"Then we share a common goal," Eryk spoke, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "But why should we trust you, mage?"

Corwin smiled gently. "I understand your caution. You have no reason to trust me blindly. But I can offer you information that may aid your quest."

He proceeded to share what he knew of the sorceress—a powerful practitioner of dark magic named Morwenna. She had once been a respected member of the magical community, but her thirst for power led her down a treacherous path.

"She has amassed a following of fanatics who worship her as a goddess," Corwin explained. "They seek to spread her influence throughout the land, and she uses them as her eyes and ears to gather information and resources."

The Witchers listened intently, absorbing every detail. They knew that facing a sorceress of Morwenna's caliber would be a daunting task, but they were determined to prevent her from obtaining the relic.

"Can you help us find her?" Geralt asked, intrigued by the prospect of working with an ally.

Corwin nodded. "I can guide you to her lair, but be warned—she is cunning and powerful. And she will not take kindly to intruders."

The Witchers exchanged glances, weighing their options. The risks were great, but the reward—the potential to prevent the relic from falling into the wrong hands—was even greater.

"Lead the way," Bjorn said, his voice steady. "We'll take whatever risks are necessary to stop her."

And so, with Corwin as their guide, the Witchers continued deeper into the catacombs, their senses alert for any sign of danger. The underground labyrinth seemed to twist and turn endlessly, each chamber more foreboding than the last.

Finally, they reached a massive chamber with an ominous aura—a place that felt imbued with dark magic. The walls were adorned with symbols and runes, a testament to the sorceress's power.

"Morwenna's lair," Corwin whispered, his voice tinged with caution. "Be prepared for anything."

As they entered the chamber, they were met with an unsettling sight. Morwenna stood at the center, surrounded by her fanatical followers who looked at her with reverence. Her eyes gleamed with a malevolent light, and a sinister smile played on her lips.

"Ah, Witchers," Morwenna spoke, her voice a chilling melody. "I've been expecting you."

Geralt stepped forward, his silver sword at the ready. "We're here to stop you, Morwenna. Your dark plans end here."

Morwenna chuckled, her gaze flickering between the Witchers and Corwin. "Ah, the mage. I see you've brought company. How unexpected."

Corwin's face remained impassive, but the Witchers noticed a flicker of unease in his eyes. They knew that dealing with a sorceress of Morwenna's caliber was fraught with risks, and they had to be cautious.

"We have no quarrel with you, Morwenna," Bjorn spoke, trying to keep the situation calm. "But we cannot allow you to obtain the relic."

Morwenna's smile widened, her demeanor shifting from amusement to malice. "Oh, but you see, I must have the relic. It holds the key to unlocking the true extent of my power. With it, I can reshape this world to my liking."

Eryk felt a surge of anger. "You seek to control and manipulate others. That's not true power."

Morwenna's eyes narrowed, her patience waning. "You speak of ideals and principles, but you don't understand the depth of power the relic holds. Once I have it, I will be unstoppable."

Before anyone could react, Morwenna raised her hands, summoning dark energy that crackled around her fingertips. Corwin stepped forward, attempting to reason with her.

"Morwenna, please reconsider," he pleaded. "You're on a path that will lead to destruction and chaos. There are other ways to gain power without resorting to darkness."

But Morwenna's resolve remained unyielding. "There is no turning back," she declared. "My destiny is set, and nothing will stand in my way."

With a flick of her wrist, Morwenna unleashed a powerful wave of dark energy, sending the Witchers and Corwin sprawling. The chamber trembled, and the air crackled with raw power.

The Witchers rose to their feet, their determination renewed. They knew that they had to stop Morwenna, no matter the cost.

As the battle raged on, the chamber became a battlefield of magic and steel. Morwenna's fanatical followers joined the fray, their loyalty to her unwavering. The odds were stacked against the Witchers, but they fought with a determination born of their shared purpose—to protect the world from darkness.

Bjorn engaged the fanatics head-on, his massive strength and skill with a blade allowing him to hold his own against their numbers. Eryk weaved through the chaos, using his agility and wit to disable their adversaries. Geralt faced Morwenna directly, his silver sword clashing against her powerful spells.

But Morwenna's mastery of dark magic proved formidable. With each strike, she seemed to grow stronger, her dark energy surging with every attack. The Witchers knew that they couldn't defeat her with brute force alone.

Eryk's mind raced as he assessed the situation. He noticed an ancient artifact on the chamber's wall—a talisman with symbols that seemed to counteract Morwenna's dark magic.

"Bjorn, Geralt, distract her," Eryk called out, his voice carrying over the cacophony of battle. "I have a plan."

As Bjorn and Geralt engaged Morwenna, Eryk focused his energy on the artifact. With a surge of magical power, he activated its counteracting properties, creating a barrier that weakened Morwenna's dark spells.

Morwenna's eyes widened with surprise and frustration. "