Ведьмак: Кровь эльфов

           Thecampersleapedupand,despitehiswarning,performednumerousagitatedmovements.Mostofthem,hesawatonce,weredwarves.Thisreassuredhimsomewhat–dwarves,althoughextremelyirascible,usuallyaskedquestionsfirstinsituationssuchastheseandonlythenaimedtheircrossbows.

           "Who’sthat?"shoutedoneofthedwarveshoarselyandwithaswift,energeticmove,prisedanaxefromastumpbythecampfire."Whogoesthere?"

           "Afriend."Thewitcherdismounted.

           "Iwonderwhose,"growledthedwarf."Comecloser.Holdyourhandsoutsowecanseethem."

           Geraltapproached,holdinghishandsoutsotheycouldbeseenevenbysomeoneafflictedwithconjunctivitisornightblindness.

           "Closer."

           Heobeyed.Thedwarfloweredhisaxeandtiltedhisheadalittle.

           "Eithermyeyesdeceiveme,"hesaid,"orit’sthewitcherGeraltofRivia.Orsomeonewholooksdamnlikehim."

           Thefiresuddenlyshotupintoflames,burstingintoagoldenbrightnesswhichdrewfacesandfiguresfromthedark.

           "YarpenZigrin,"declaredGeralt,astonished."NoneotherthanYarpenZigrininperson,completewithbeard!"

           "Ha!"Thedwarfwavedhisaxeasifitwereanosiertwig.Thebladewhirredintheairandcutintoastumpwithadullthud.