Illyana watched Ivory and Lucien leave, their tires kicking up clouds of dust as they puttered away in the truck. Her fists were clenched at her sides and she sighed heavily, but knew everything that happened after today was inevitable. Once the truck had made its way over the curved of the horizon, she turned back to the remaining workers as they set up, and walked toward the center of the field to take over Lucien's duties while he was away.

-----------------------------------

The city was quiet as Lucien and Ivory moved through it; the men were working and the women were tending the children or the house. They moved through mostly quiet streets, better for them to avoid the gaze of passerby. The two of them were inconspicuous for the most part, but Lucien's golden eyes and Ivory's striking snow-white hair did often draw some attention in main thoroughfares. Illyana had handed over the address they needed before they left, which took them weaving through back streets for a few minutes before approaching the main facade of bowing wood. 

Geralt lived on the second-floor of a walk-up tenement building. Ivory's comment on the unlikelihood of a famous magician living there was absolutely correct. It was completely out of the way, dingy, small, and dank. The alleyway that the building stood in was small and cramped, and the building itself was taller than it was wide. In order to approach the door at all, the pair had to climb a fire-escape. Overall, it did not seem the place for someone of such high esteem.

And yet, it was.

The first, second, and third series of knocks were completely ignored by the apartment's inhabitant. But once the visitors at his door made it clear that they were not going to leave on their own, Geralt decided that it was time for him to intervene in their exit. He opened his eyes lazily and half-grunted, half-sighed as he extricated himself from the tangle of blankets and limbs on his bed.

[b]"Mmm..."[/b] A female voice moaned from within the pile and a pale hand reached out for him as he moved. 

[color=crimson]"Shh, meine schönheit, I'll be back soon."[/color] He whispered as he dodged her grasp. He sounded more annoyed than affectionate. The hand withdrew itself from whence it came as he stood and grabbed a pair of black pants from the back of a chair.

The apartment was a mess, cluttered, and nearly pitch black inside. Dusty light filtered through a window in the bedroom and cast long shadows across the wooden floor. There were books, papers, clothing, shoes, empty glass bottles, pillows, and even coins strewn about the floor and over the furniture. There was one lamp in the corner, currently switched off, with a red and purple scarf draped over it. It was balanced precariously on the edge of a stack of books on a side table next to a chair and looked capable of toppling at any moment.

A thin partition of wood and glass separated the bedroom from the sitting room at the front of the apartment and Geralt stepped through it as he fastened the button on his pants and pushed his dark hair back from his forehead. He was of average height and build, thin but well-defined, and not entirely graceless despite the mess around him. His long limbs and fingers moved with a fluid dexterity built of confidence boarding on arrogance. His face was incredibly handsome, with sharp features and keen eyes. His hair was long on the top, with a shaved back and sides, as typical of the age, and he clearly hadn't shaved in days. He stood out in the mess of the room, in and out of his element at the same time, as he reached for a white button-down that was draped over the arm of the couch.

Another knock caused his cheek to twitch in irritation, [color=crimson]"Coming!"[/color] He shouted in an attempt to stop the onslaught. The previous night's debauchery had left him with dark circles under his eyes and a pounding headache in his temples. One more knock, and he would have different words in mind when he opened the door. 

He let the shirt fall onto his shoulders and, leaving it unbuttoned, crossed the room to the door, waving his hand along the way to throw the latch back. He grasped the handle and pulled the door open on creaking hinges.

A shaft of light fell directly on his face as he peered outside, and he squinted in the face of the afternoon sun. He raised a hand to shield himself and he stared at the two blobs of person standing at his doorstep. [color=crimson]"Yes?" [/color] He said, the irritation clear in his voice. He would have had some other words, but he wouldn't be able to tell if it was the law or not until his vision clarified.