Thanesel's face instantly turned ashen.
Of course, this wasn't entirely due to Lynn scaring him.
He was several centuries old himself and wouldn't be easily intimidated by a young witcher under twenty with just a few words. However, the threats Lynn had just spoken were indeed not unfounded.
He knew how much resentnt he stirred. His craftsmanship, far surpassing his peers, and his elven identity constantly drew him into trouble and hatred.
What was original sin?
Not being human was original sin. He knew very well that his counterparts in the Toussaint blacksmiths' guild wished for his untily demise on more than one occasion. He knew all this.
That's precisely why he usually kept a low profile and avoided trouble. At the sa ti, he diligently fostered good relations with the authorities.
This included, but was not limited to, giving the Duchy Guard maximum discounts when they ca to his armor shop to purchase armor. Damages within one month were replaced for free, and repairs within six months were free.
The Duchy Guard, having benefited from him, reciprocated with considerable goodwill and protection.
Because of this, his peers dared not act rashly. But if, as the witcher said, an elven assassin had indeed attacked Duchess Anna Henrietta, and if this news spread, it was imaginable that not only he but all non-humans in Beauclair and indeed Toussaint would face a bloody and terrifying massacre. At that point, the Duchy Guard wouldn't be able to protect him.
Thanesel's face was ashen. He couldn't understand. He didn't care about power or politics. He didn't care about the unjust treatnt elves or he himself received.
He simply loved swinging his hamr, loved the warmth of the armor shop... and was imrsed in his beloved craft. What had he done wrong? Why did it seem like everything he did was wrong?
Thanesel sighed. "Even if everything you say is true, how is the North any better? I hear non-humans in the North have an even harder ti."
Seeing the elven master blacksmith proactively bring up the North, the witcher smiled. "The North isn't a single entity. While there are indeed so places in the North where non-humans face unbearable oppression, not all places are the sa."
"Take Novigrad, for instance. It's a free city, belonging to no country, governed by its own city council."
"Novigrad's population is even larger than Beauclair's, with many people who can't afford housing within the city living outside its walls."
"How could such a prosperous city possibly implent racial discrimination?"
"Furthermore, Novigrad is located within the Kingdom of Redania."
"Redania's current ruler, King Vizimir, is known as 'the Just.'"
"He treats non-humans and humans equally, with no discrimination."
"Therefore, if you go to Novigrad, you needn't worry about your life."
Although King Vizimir would later be assassinated by an elven assassin, and his successor would implent brutal racial cleansing policies, there was no need for Thanesel to know this.
Besides, King Vizimir would live at least until the Second Northern War, which was still over a decade away. That was plenty of ti for Lynn to do many things.
"You're so eager for to go to Novigrad. Is there so benefit in this for you as well?" Thanesel, after all, was an elf who had lived for centuries.
While he didn't usually concern himself with politics, long life and extensive experience allowed him to infer many things. For example, he didn't believe Lynn's purpose in saying all this was simply to save his life.
"I hope to form a partnership with you. You are the finest master blacksmith on this continent, and your value is, naturally, self-evident."
"Of course, in exchange, I'll help you find a suitable location for a smithy in Novigrad, arrange for you to join Novigrad's blacksmiths' guild, and protect you from harassnt by thugs and ruffians."
Thanesel opened his mouth. He had too many questions for this confident witcher. For instance, how could a re witcher handle all this? But these questions were ultimately swallowed back by Thanesel.
"If what you say, you can truly accomplish all that, then fine. When you're ready to leave, let know in advance. I'll pack my things and leave with you."
He wasn't so easily swayed. It was more that Toussaint truly was no longer a viable place for him.
Unless he was willing to go further south into the Nilfgaardian Empire, he had no choice but to try his luck in the North.
Lynn's active performance in the sewers had significantly boosted Thanesel's impression of him. Coupled with the fact that this young and handso witcher was indeed different from the witchers of legend...
Therefore, Thanesel was willing to take a gamble and trust Lynn this one ti.
Successfully recruiting the continent's finest master blacksmith instantly put Lynn in a great mood. This not only ant that once he found the diagrams for Mastercrafted Witcher armors, he, Geralt, and their witcher brothers would imdiately be able to equip the best armor, significantly reducing witcher casualties.
More importantly, Thanesel was an elf; he could live for a very long ti, aning he could also train many apprentices for Lynn.
Recruiting the Letho trio, bringing in the elven master blacksmith Thanesel... This wasn't the end of it. Lynn had many more things to do in Toussaint. For example, the thod for secondary mutations. Or the diagrams for Mastercrafted gear from several lost witcher schools, scattered throughout Toussaint. And...
Lynn's lips curved upward. He had an idea. Why not start by visiting another high vampire residing in Toussaint, besides Orianna?
That high vampire, like Regis, also belonged to the abstainer faction. Although he played the role of a boss-like antagonist in The Witcher 3, he was actually a good person. If Lynn rembered correctly, he even ran a quiet toy shop in Beauclair.
"A high vampire, huh? Regis is one thing, but if I can bring him to my side too, damn! That's almost unimaginable."
Lynn certainly wasn't naive enough to believe he could freely command two high vampires and have them do his bidding. But if his territory had two high vampires safeguarding it, he wouldn't fear even a thousand pitchfork-wielding peasant mobs.
.....
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