Of Swords and Dumplings

A witcher without a blade is like a potter without hands, and thus they are always on the lookout for skilled smiths to reforge or repair their deadly limbs. One day Geralt encountered a certain Hattori, a former master swordsmith who had transitioned into the premade edibles trade. He decided to convince the man to give up this dough business and return to his former practice. Little did he know this would be the start of a strange and toilsome adventure involving Skelligers, dumplings, shady ore dealers and, I kid you not, crafting supplies.

During this quest Geralt had to haggle like a fishwife, mix with mafiosos, draw with chalk in the dark and dive into a portside brawl. Most of all, he had to teach a lesson to the man who had squeezed Hattori out of sword making. All this so that Hattori would give up that infernal dumpling scrunching and return to forging blades. From then on our hero could make use of his services, and I sure hope he did so often, for otherwise all that effort was for naught.

To a witcher, a sword is like a lover. He must carress it, care for it, devote some time to it each night. But as with lovers, there are times one comes across a specimen so superior and not one's own that one cannot help but consider replacing the old with the new. Geralt was fully aware of these principles, so when he heard about the legendary swordsmith named Hattori, a tingle ran down his spine, butterflies took flight in his stomach, and he resolved to find the craftsman.