Ciri makes plan to rescue Yen

Bloodmoss, blowball, mandrake root, wolfsbane, bitterbark. Most of the ingredients had been easy to find in the surrounding forest, the rest Ciri had bought from the small but well-stocked apothecary in a nearby town with the coin she had taken from the bandits.

The bandits were no longer a problem. She had killed their leader and half of them before the other half even knew what was happening. The rest followed suit with little issue. Their deaths were quick and easy and maybe better than they deserved, but she had more pressing matters at hand.

Ciri put the bitterbark to the side, gathered the rest and dumped them into the boiling pot of **** and waited. She sat cross-legged, watching the think purple liquid bubble and turn in the small cast iron pot.

For the first time in months her mind was clear. She could remember it all. Every man, every woman, every monster. She shifted slightly, there had been lingering effects, as much as it disgusted her she still warmed at the thought of those memories. Memories of being held down and taken, of being used. The effect of the succubus was a potent thing and she knew it would take time to fully recover. But her mind was clear and for now and that was good enough.

The mixture in front of her began to smoke, the once smooth liquid quickly turning viscous and oily. She pulled the pot from the fire and added more **** to it to help it cool.

Ciri picked up the bitterbark, hesitantly bringing the dark brown flaky wood chips to her face. She couldn’t help but wince and pull back at the mere smell of it. It lived up to its name, so bitter it made her nostrils burn. So potent she could taste the smell of it.

Tossing it to the ground she drained the pot into a copper cup, took a breath then downed the liquid she had just brewed. She held back a gag, then coughed, her vision spun for a moment. It was tasteless but it burnt going down like too pure booze. It was thick and muddy and coated her tongue and teeth and throat but she swallowed anyway, forcing down another gulp full until there was nothing left.

Her stomach rolled, and she heaved slightly but kept the vile feeling concoction down. Satisfied she grabbed the bitterbark and shoved it into her mouth.

It was dry and brittle and fell apart on her tongue but it tasted of nothing, smelt of nothing. The old witcher's decoction hadn’t killed her, and it better yet it had worked. She could not smell, or taste anything. And in theory it should nullify the effects of the succubus' toxin.

The only thing left to do would be to test it.