The girl, Recette Lemongrass, lived on her own because her father had gone adventuring and not returned.
The fairy, Tear, worked for the Terme Finance company, and Recette’s father’s debts were about to come due.
Reasoning that getting the money back was better than taking Recette’s house and auctioning it at a loss, Tear helped Recette set up a small item shop on the main street of the town. Just the sort of thing to cater to locals, and the hordes of hopeful adventurers and treasure-seekers needing supplies.
Working off your debt retailing doesn’t sound very exciting, but Recette and Tear’s adventure is only just beginning.
The world of The Witcher, created by Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski, has been widely translated into numerous languages and adapted, into film, television, graphic novels, and a video game. It’s the video game that concerns us here.
Something I rummage through periodically are the search results that people use to get to this site. A lot of people come here through the site appearing in amongst this or that search result. Some of them are obvious, some of them are weird.
A few are lurid, and then there’s one commonly recurring set that is particularly lame.
After what seems like a significant fraction of forever 2007 video game, Mass Effect has finally got an update which allows it to run on nvidia/geforce systems without requiring an increasingly archaic and unsupported version of the video drivers to prevent the game from crashing (or from crashing your whole system).
I’m crouching in the dark. I have a flashlight, but I dare not turn it on. I’m trying to keep quiet, and huddle close to my inadequate cover. I can hear the creature growl softly as it gets closer. Will it see me? I don’t dare look, because I know I’ll panic and it will be on me in an instant. I steal quick glances at it, then huddle behind the crate to calm down, like a kid hiding under a blanket from the monster under the bed.
Is it a dog? It’s might be some kind of a dog. I dare not face it. Maybe it was a dog … once. I don’t know what it is now.
I don’t dare move. The sound of its feet stops. It sniffs the air and growls softly, a bit like a dog, but something is very… wrong about the sound. It snuffles and I think I hear it move away. I steal a terrified glance. It’s moving away from me now. I creep as fast as I dare into a cross tunnel, and head for where I think the store-rooms are. Anywhere is better than here, right?