Hi.
My name is Raysha, or Ghost Hand, as some people call me, and this is my story.

Imagine how much trouble pushing a man could cause. The wrong man.
I pushed the wrong man. And he died.
My name is Raysha, and I am a thief and a murderer. Or, more correctly, I was a thief and a murderer. More than that you don't need to know.

The trouble started a few months back. My mission to rob a wealthy merchant took a very different turn when he suddenly showed up during my 'investigations', interrupting my work. To avoid a big scene, so I thought, I pushed him out of the way so I could get the hell out of that tavern. The bastard just had to slip and fall over and die while he hit his head with the meeting of a table. Great, just great.
I did not double check on him, so I ran. Big mistake.
I was uncareful. The innkeeper got a look on my face, and hell was loose.

A day later, my face was all over the city on posters. No doubt in my mind. I had to get away, fast.
Leaving everything, and everyone I knew, I headed for the the safest place I could find. Or so I thought.
A cat Witcher School, Kaer Marter.
The school was build on neutral ground. The Witchers, muntants or monster slayers, were neutral. No law in Temeria would never think about looking for a simple thief there. Well, thief, assassin, murderer. I guess I have a few names.
Yet, they don't know my real name. They have a bad picture of my face, that's all. I am good at hiding, good at not being seen. They would never find me there. Also, why would they bother being there in the first place? Don't they have a war to fight or something?

I headed there with full speed. I was eager to get to safety, no matter what. If being a witcher could keep me away from the law, to hell with it. I'd be one.
I had to flee from my family in Novigrad, the best city in the world. With my face on a wanted poster, I could not stay. I could not put them in danger, by staying. So, I left without a word. They will understand. And when all this shit is over, I will come back to them, pick up my trails and continue my professions. A witcher or not, makes no difference.
It did not turn out that way. Not at all.
If any of my ol' uncles had seen me now, seen the patch on my gambeson. . . Oh, he would have chopped me in a thousand pieces and fed me to the pigs.

So, where do I begin?

I found the school, and they took me in together with all the other witcher adepts. I did not imagine so many people had a wish to become one of these 'things'.
I had no idea what I went to, but that did not matter. I wanted to live, that's all that matters to me.
A life with no law chasing my every step.
When I become a witcher, they have nothing on me. That was my goal. Get though the trials alive was my freedom. So, I thought.

The very first evening we gathered outside, I think we were nearly a hundred adepts on the courtyard of stone, listening to the Grandmaster. Astrid, was that her name?
Anyways, the training apparently started immediately. There was no room for slacking. Get down on your hands and do your pushups until they were pleased. I did not mind. Training is what keeps you going. It's what keeps you alive. I am used to yelling and cursing, so that seemed to be a normal thing over there. Fine, I thought. First impression is intimidating, but I don't mind, as long as I live.

Well, it did not last for long. Some wolf witchers and adepts came to visit the school. Which did not bother me at all. What DID bother me was that some Temerian Blue Stripes showed up as well, Special forces for the god damned king.
What the hell, I thought, and pull my hat further down to my face.
''What the hell are they doing here?'' I asked. I heard people mumble in confusion too, but no one could really provide me an answer.
I feared the worst. They are looking for me. I went closer to them, hiding behind people taller than me. I felt sort of hidden in the darkness of night, so I did not panic. I had to hear what they had to tell the Grandmaster.
We learned that they had a mage with them. Gildart, or something. I did not care. They could bring the King for all I cared, as long as they did not want me.
The fucking Temerians could not give me one day. Not even on neutral ground.

''They are now our guests'', Astrid said. ''And we should treat them so. ''
I was furious. We were divided into groups and led to the dining hall. Together with the Temerians!
No matter how suspicious it might have seen, I could not show them my face. I pulled my hood over my face and made sure to stay as far away from them as possible. Far away. Maybe they would just stay for a day, and then bugger off to mind their own business.
At least for a change, the food was great, but I felt obliged to interact with the adepts sitting next to me. They did not seem to like me much, but I did not care. I was not there to make friends, but I tried to chat with them non the less.
And then this mage appeared. Sat right next to me, too. I don't really know if I felt threatened, annoyed or honored, but there was something with his look. The staring, and that cheeky-not-to-be-trusted-smile following.
I quickly finished my food and followed Master Ylia, I think that was her name. It was time for our first group meeting of some sort. Still hiding under my cloak I accidentally got eye contact with one of the Blue Stripes. I cursed and ran off, hoping he did not recognize my face. Hoping they never saw my face on any of the posters, all over Novigrad.

The meeting with my group were held in the dark, at the top of the staircase. Suited me perfectly. I prefer the dark.
We had to present ourselves. Some told their whole birth story (boring), others, like myself kept it as short as possible. The less they know about me, the better.
To them I am now 'Ghost', and I am from Novigrad.
What more could I possibly tell? That I was sold into a family as a kid to be a thief, then later promoted to an assassin because of my skills to kill easy and silently? Come on, no.
Yet, my passion for it might have shown through the way I talk and act.
So my group were named 'Spirits'. I came with the suggestion of 'Blood' or 'Knife', but they did not like that . . . I don't understand why.
But Spirits were not too bad, so I accepted it. It's not important in the long run.

I don't really remember how I got to the tavern there after, or what I did there, I blame the drugs.
What I DO remember though is that the steward of the cat school came up to me and told me that the Master wanted to see me.
''The Master?'' I asked. ''Who? My Master?'
''Yes, yes. The Master wants to talk with you?' He said.
Already there I should been suspicious. I should have asked questions. But I was there to become a Witcher, so I had to listen and learn. And from who else than the masters?

Silently he led me to the courtyard, then disappeared at the doors. It was so silent. I can't ever remember such a quiet night. But there were no Master outside.
I managed to get one good look at the fountain, shining under the glittering stars before a brutal force pulled me backwards, a sack where pulled over my face together with a piece of clothing stuffed in my mouth.
''You are coming with us, murderer'', a voice said as a rope were tighten around my neck.
''Let's go for a walk''.