Disclaimer: I own nothing except my doubtful skills.

A/N1: it's 'the English version' of my fic 'Przesłuchanie'


By your-biohazardous-friend

Vernon's lips curled downward into thin disgusted line. After raid set on the meeting place of temerian traders and Scoia'tael members, one of the merchants had been caught.

Said trader was as fat as pig thickset. His small, half-petrified, button-like eyes were almost entirely covered with reddened folds of fattened skin.

The man was reeking of fear and sweat spiced up with expensive perfumes, that rich-men of Temeria were pouring in buckets on themselves to mask the stench of money. The captive's skin was literally vaporizing the odour. In the small, stuffy cell, said smell was squeezing Captain's tears out. Like an onion which Vernon used to help his mother with as a child.

Surprisingly, the certain flash of the past of a small room at the trade quarter of Visima gave the man a feeling that he once met the trader, who was now wiggling at the chair as if he was forced to sit on a hedgehog.

"let's start anew" Roche finally began, sipping beer from his mug. The trader licked his dry lips as he followed the gesture with attention that only thirsty men were capable of "but this time be honest with me, lad. How long have you been helping the Squirrels?"

Before the merchant was able to compose a reply, the doors of the cell opened. Ves unceremoniously stepped in.

"Captain Roche" the woman began "King Foltest wish to speak with you"

Vernon nodded in response. The blond woman closed the heavy doors behind her.

Immediately, merchant's eyes winded with realization.

"Roche? Vernon Roche?" fat man mumbled half with surprise, half with hope, friendly smile appeared on his red face "It's me Hugo! Don't you recognize me? We used to be neighbours at the trade quarter of Visima! We used to play together as kids!"

Vernon sipped another sip of the beer, eyeing the man before him.

Hugo? THE Hugo?



A lump of mud hit a teenage boy right at his neck. Cold, smelly goo splattered at his short dark hair, the rest of the mud slowly made it's way along his back hidden under old, worn shirt.

"Hey WHORESON! Is your mother having GUESTS again?" thickset teenage boy with bulky arms shouted. Neither bending nor kneeling, the rich kid took another lump of mud with caution to not to solid his fancy, azure clothes.


"I remember you" Vernon smiled beastly, crossing his arms on his chest "I remember as if it was yesterday… Hugo"

Merchant's smile disappeared from his face even quicker than it appeared.

comments, advices, constructive criticism etc. are always welcomed and appreciated!