[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]The Maw- The Depths[/center]
[center]Lvl 7 (82/70) -> Lvl 8 (83/70) [/center]
[center]Word Count: 304 words[/center]

Link's decision to chow down on some carrots that he'd hidden in his boot got a small sigh from the child Witcher. He wasn't sure how wise his reluctance to eat at this point was. While he recognized that that was most likely his stomach talking, he couldn't help but wonder. His hunger was unnatural, obviously a means to force him into eating the cursed food, but it was also crippling him. In his current state, he'd be hard pressed to give more than a good throw or two of the nail he was wielding.

Getting another look at the kitchen arrayed before them, Geralt was reassured that choosing stealth, at least for now, was a good plan. His body probably wouldn't be able to support him for an extended run, unfortunately, and that meant that even if shit hit the fan, he'd need to either rely on the others to help him along, or hope that more backup came along in the nick of time. 

Link's plan to distract the chefs was sound, as was the addendum of potentially sowing the seeds of discord among them by framing one for causing a mess. With how high-strung these guys seemed to be, it wasn't a bad plan. Geralt nodded along. "That could certainly work. The stairs will be a chore, or climbing might even be more so, but I should be able to manage, albeit slowly. Some basic Witcher training and a light body make for a good climber." He wasn't exactly looking forward to climbing a rope made out of sausage links, but he would do what he had to to get the girls out. His anger was still there, but it was simmering rather than flaring up. When he had the chance to unleash it, there would be [i]hell[/i] to pay.