The foglet flickers around Bichen's blade, then slumps to the ground. Geralt spins and slices his silver blade across the other foglet as it solidifies. The creature shrieks and dies, leaving them in the mist's muffled silence.

... Almost. "You've got to be kidding me," Geralt mutters, and strides over to where the dwarf is curled, fast asleep and snoring, on the path. "Hey!" He nudges the dwarf with the toe of his boot. "Wake up!"