“Death Tae Any And All New Factions!”

Once the semi-final match is completed, there’s a slight disruption to the competition, as the Gwent protestors have managed to break through the Count’s guards, and are yelling relatively tame obscenities (for dwarves) from the opposite end of the veranda. You can answer their demands to stop using the Skellige Clans deck in any way you wish. It seems the dwarves think Gwent is an ancient pastime with rules set ages ago; there should be four (and only four) factions. It’s tradition! In fact, the leader of the dwarves feels so strongly about these convictions he’s ready to “break heids” in defense of it. In fact, he’s about to prove it!

A bout of fisticuffs then breaks out, with you up against three dwarves, each with mucky mouths and fast fists. Pummel them and keep moving in this relatively confined area. Whether you beat them into submission or not, the conversation continues, and takes a less violent turn when you mention Zoltan Chivay. They know all about that rascal, and ask how he is. Answer as you wish. When alcohol is introduced into the conversation, the Gwent purists soften their tone a bit, and Yaki Rafiberg declares himself a participant in the tournament; he’ll play the victor, if only to see whether this Skellige faction’s worth—to use his vernacular—a “flamin’ bag o’ shite,” or not.