Observations on the first Witcher game through the eyes of someone who played the third game first and then years decided to play all of them.
Or how I'll call it from now on:
The Tales of Geralt of Amnesia.
#2 Fisstech.
So, who knows the scene of Geralt, Lambert and Eskel getting wasted in Kaer Morhen, loves it. I played it with all Dialoge options and reloaded and whatever, and sometimes just watch YouTube videos of that scene.
And while their drinking game is fun the ending is… odd.
It ends with Geralt ending the game with the words.
"Right, men, let's end on that. Or else I'll never be able to look you in the eyes again"
I mean, yeah, Fisstech is a drug and that’s not good but… from a Witcher who knocks back poisonous potions on a regular basis and at least in TW1 gets so often drunk that my husbandfrom just occasinally glancing at my screen remarked that I‘m drunk a lot.
So… taking Fisszech to keep out with the succubus? Morally dubious but given the circumstances….
But then I met Jethro in TW1. And they talk about Fisstech.
Jethro: "You're pretty green..." *sniff*
Geralt: "Not so green I don't know the best way to take Fisstech. Fold back your skin and rub..."
Jethro: "wehere?"
Geralt: "where you can fold back your skin, Jethro"
And I can only think of one body part where this wording is fitting. Which led me to the question how do women consume Fisstech, but.. my initial thought was „WTF Eskel! NOW I know why Geralt was worried. I couldn’t look him in the eyes after that either“
So, random late night thought. The Trials and mutagens obviously change things but don't necessarily magically "fix" everything. So imagine a Witcher with ADHD. Sensory overload would definitely be an even BIGGER issue.
I found myself thinking that treatment would likely be micro doses of Fisstech, as an equivalent medication. And that's an odd thought. Not only that, but a Witcher tolerance would mean higher than human doses. Would such a Witcher get a reputation of being a Fisstech addict, just to be able to function at something resembling "normal"?
Noodlepup/Ramenpup? *hopeful eyes, fluttering lashes* Early spring is cold, but Eskel is warm and warmth makes snakes active. Very active.
Eskel gets high with the School of Viper and he ends up wrapped in their coils...
CW: Drug use. Dubious consent due to being high as all hell.
Eskel stared at the ceiling and counted the cobwebs. He kept getting distracted by the shape of the cracks in the rafters and chuckling to himself about the absurdity of crack-spiders. Spiders that lived in cracks. Some of them were big enough for an Arachas. Now his brain had placed a mini-Arachas on the rafter. It was blinking at him. Did Arachas have eyes like that? He couldn’t remember. He’d killed enough of them. Maybe they did—hmm, could do with some food. Munchies. Munch-i-i-i-ies.
Oh, he was so fucking high.
It was his own fault. He met the Vipers just outside Cintra and they invited him back for a drink. The drink happened to include several lines of Fisstech. Maybe more than several lines. He wasn’t actually sure. At some point his clothes had all come off because Auckes wanted to do lines off him. Something about ‘built like a Skelligen beserker’ or—something. His armour was scattered around the room; he could see the red stripes of his gambeson near the window and his swords were propped up safely in the corner.
It was late autumn. Soon he’d be heading back to Kaer Morhen for the winter. The temperature outside had dropped but Eskel had taken up a position right in front of the fire, and his body hummed pleasantly with warmth. He’d been vaguely aware of their bodies against him as they huffed powder off the firm curves of his chest, and he could smell them as they fucked each other lazily on the bed, their sweat and pheromones hanging thickly in the room.
“He’s fucked,” said a familiar voice. Auckes.
“Yeah, and he’s hard,” said another. Serrit. “I can’t get over the fucking size of it. Hey, Letho. Letho.”
“What?” Letho grumbled from the bed; the heavy thump of his feet hitting the floor as he pushed himself to the very edge.
“He’s almost as hung as you,” Serrit drawled. “Fuck it, I want him.”
“I can hear you,” Eskel slurred at the ceiling. The imaginary Arachas—he was ninety percent sure it was imaginary—wobbled on the rafter and his chin twitched to the side. “It’s… rude to talk about someone as if they’re not here... there, here?”
A quiet chuckle and then the sound of three sets of shuffling feet, one set slightly heavier than the others. They crouched around his naked form and he blinked slowly—really slowly, he wasn’t sure his eyes would open again for a second there—and gazed up into Auckes’ angular face. The firelight flickered across the dome of his shaven head; his yellow eyes bright with the pupils blown wide. “We’re sorry, puppy dog. We didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Yeah,” Serrit leaned over Eskel’s thick chest, his lips hovering above warm skin to breathe in the scent of him. When he made contact, it was to run his tongue through a smattering of white powder just above Eskel’s nipple. With a body as fine as their puppy dog’s, it would’ve been a crime not to huff drugs off his tits, and he seemed quite content to stay sprawled on the patchy fur rug as they did. “Hmm. Maybe we should’ve done some off his cock.”
“Mm,” Letho pushed Eskel’s legs apart and sank down between them; Eskel could feel his breath on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and then his sac as his mouth grew closer. When he finally did lave a long, indulgent lick across his balls, Eskel’s mind watched the sensation flutter by and contemplated the scope of the tongue that could cover that much skin in one and – then he did it again and Eskel moaned, brain finally catching up with the rest of his nerve endings. His tongue was big. So big. So warm. And wet. Why were tongues wet? What was the purpose of a wet tongue?
“Oh, fuck,” Eskel tried to clamp his legs together against the sudden flood of overwhelming sensation, but Letho pinned his thighs open as he continued to lick and kiss gently. It met the ripples of pleasure passing down his chest as Serrit continued to suck at his nipples, his dark brown hair tickling over Eskel’s suddenly very sensitive skin. “Ahh, ahh.”
Auckes grinned down at Eskel’s hazy expression, long fingers petting through soft, black hair. “Oh, puppy dog, you’re so pretty. And you’re feelin’ so good, aren’t you? We’re going to play with you. You like that, don’t you? You like it when we play with you.”
“Yeah,” Eskel breathed, legs spreading a little further as he felt Letho’s thick fingers tickle down his taint to his hole. “Want to play. Play with me.” His thoughts were an incoherent spatter across his mind; he couldn’t hold onto one long enough to form a coherent opinion and was happy to go along with someone who seemed to at least know which way was up. Auckes’ smile was all teeth; broad, and feral, and full of promise.
Letho’s mouth descended over his cock, sucking loudly—wetly, so fucking wet—and Eskel bucked up into the heat of it only to have bruising fingers hold him still again. A pair of warm lips pressed to his mouth, tongue diving across his, and Eskel fell into a warm haze of blissful euphoria. Hot, sweaty skin slid over his as something slick teased into the lax muscles of his hole, moving slowly in and out with the natural cadence of his hips as they were finally allowed to wiggle again.
He couldn’t get a hold of them; they seemed to slither out of his grasp as soon as he managed to get his hands or arms on them. Their skin was soon slick with sweat, the Fisstech in their system playing havoc with their internal temperature gauges. Eskel growled and managed to flip over onto his front, catching someone – fluffy brown hair, Serrit – by the ankle to drag him underneath his chest. Muscular thighs clamped around his hips and the snake squirmed, grinding his toned stomach up against the hard shaft of Eskel’s cock. “Yeah, go on, puppy, I’m all wet for you, all ready, go on, take it, take what you want, go on—hnngh!”
Eskel bit the arch of Serrit’s throat—teeth leaving deep crescent moons—as he thrust into his willing hole, splitting him open roughly on his thick cock as he buried to the hilt, balls pressing the slick cleft spread for him. He bent his legs up, splaying them for leverage as he writhed, snarling and moaning as Serrit’s body gripped him just perfectly. Two sets of hands were gliding over the flexing muscles of his back, squeezing his ass, kneading at his thighs. Serrit groaned wantonly, gripping a fistful of Eskel’s hair and pulling when his fervour became too strong. The prickling sting mixed with the pleasure coiling up Eskel’s spine in a dizzying cacophony of sensation.
It only intensified when Letho’s fingers returned; entranced by the athletic roll of Eskel’s hips, the way he could still see Eskel’s perfectly tight little hole every time he drew back and his spine arched just so. It begged for attention, to be stretched open and filled. Letho slipped a well-oiled finger inside as his other hand wet his cock until it was dripping; he let Eskel spear himself, adding a second and a third when his body was ready for it. The wolf moaned into Serrit’s bruised throat, nails biting into the rough-hewn wood of the panelled flooring at the edge of the bearskin rug.
He was drowning in the scent of them, the feel of them. His Fisstech-addled brain was latching onto every sensation now and amplifying it, skin aflame with every touch and lave of the tongue. He took Auckes’ cock into his mouth as the viper settled over his brother’s face, growling happily when he lapped over the back of his balls to his hole just as his puppy dog swallowed him down. Letho lined his cock up with Eskel’s hole and moved his hips in small little rolls, allowing his wolf to fuck himself back as deep as he could handle; his wolf cried and whimpered as his body gaped wide to take the monstrous cock it wanted so desperately.
Their wolf was graceful even when high off his tits. Really, really nice fucking tits though. His muscular body rippled with each deep thrust as he plundered Serrit’s body and impaled himself with every time he drew back. Auckes admired the soft, plump lips as they stretched around his shaft, throat gulping hungrily at his head. Letho knew they were lucky to have such a lovely play thing, one that was so loyal, that came back to them time and again to be teased and toyed with beyond his limits.
Eskel seized as his orgasm washed through him, hips thrusting forward to pump Serrit full. No sooner had his cock stopped twitching was he thrown onto his back. Letho snagged his ankles and folded his legs up to present his ass and thrust back inside, allowing Eskel’s calves to brace over his chest as Serrit and Auckes slithered against his warm skin, touching with hands, tongues, lips and cocks. Eskel licked, kissed and stroked whatever was placed within his reach; obedient, needy, desperate to please.
Auckes left briefly to grab the remaining Fisstech. He dipped his finger into the soft white powder and then slid it slowly into Eskel’s mouth, gliding across an eager, lolling tongue. “Good puppy dog, just a little top up,” he grinned as Eskel suckled, eyes flickering, pupils blowing wide again in those honey-rich eyes. When he drew his finger back he painted his lips with another helping before diving down for a kiss.
Eskel lost track of time and space. His sense of where he was, who he was, faded into a kaleidoscope of colour and pleasure as the vipers slithered over him, plundering his body as they wanted. He was never empty. Even when Letho’s cock withdrew, it was replaced by another, squelching loudly through the come pouring from his gaping hole. They kept his mouth busy with kisses, pricks or teasing fingers; Serrit pinned his arms back at one point and ploughed into his throat with gusto, spilling with a loud, punched out moan and a stream of praise for Eskel’s gods-blessed tongue. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry to come; pricks slipping in and out of him as they savoured the rest, not allowing him to gain anchor on anything. Free falling, but in the best way.
They fucked him until he was dry and then wound around him—arms and legs binding him close—reptilian mutagens drawn by his apparently endless supply of body heat. Their familiar weight was a comfort as he came down from his high and the dull throb of reality settled in. The sharp edges of sobriety were blunted by the odd but intensely genuine brand of affection his collection of vipers had for him. They were completely unhinged, definitely bad influences, but he trusted them to carry him safely through everything they explored together. At home, he was the sensible one—the golden child—he couldn’t get high. Couldn’t let the side down. The vipers didn’t judge him for his duplicity either. There was an understanding that what they shared had to stay… separate from the rest of Eskel’s life. They didn’t care—saw it as an opportunity almost—just meant it could become as fucking decadent as they wanted it to.
Eskel tilted his head and found himself staring into Letho’s craggy face. The viper’s yellow, reptilian eyes were oddly soft in the fading light of the fire. “Don’t worry, wolf. It’s safe to sleep in our nest.”
“ Elves call the stuff White Death. Most prevalent drug in the world, and lemme tell ya, nothin’ ya wanna get involved with. A fisstech addict’s a scary thing—not an ounce of fear or dignity when the cravings catch ‘em. "
Another milestone, another meme. Thank you all so much for helping me get 800 followers! Here’s a little something I made a few months back for Facebook.
