Late autumn was never a pleasant time around Kaer Marten – the nights were cold, days were wet, and training was no easier that in the pleasant sunshine of summer.
"Wrong! The top third of the blade is your clearance area, do NOT use it to kill in battle. It will lock your blade halfway through the opponent's body and you'll be dead before you know it! Get close to the bastard, like I taught you two days ago." - Master Bastian's voice boomed over The Claws in front of the palace, as they continued into their second hour of their morning routine. The sun rose 20 minutes prior.
Seanna nodded as she returned to queen's guard to repeat the cut on a mannequin. The next attempt was on target, breaking the sack holding straw and digging into the wooden structure of the dummy. Master Bastian stood to the side, with his arms crossed on his chest.
"Good. Now off you go to the quartermaster to get this replaced." He turned to the rest of the group, looking for mistakes and errors. They were learning quickly, but there was still a very long way before he could comfortably drink in the palace bar as they took individual contracts.
The trial and modifications to their bodies improved both their speed and agility, already making them faster and better fighters than average humans – but a decent human fencer could still be a challenge to most of them. This worried Bastian… They should be able to kill any human in a fight as simply as they would trim shrubbery, even without the use of signs. His gaze halted as he reached Vatkyr. The adepts damaged knee didn't yet heal – old wounds take a while to heal fully, even with the help of surviving the trial. This made his movements rigid and he was not staying on the balls of his feet, understandable as this always puts strain on the knees. Bastian walked over, his hands on the belt holding his steel blade.
"Bend your body forwards, just a bit further than you find natural. It forces your knees to work harder, and your weight to move forwards"
"Yes Master. It hurts a bit though… My damaged knee hasn't quite recovered…"
"I know, that's why I'm making it hurt more. The mutagens in your body will make it heal with time, and you will recover fully. By training harder now, you show your body it is you who controls it – not the other way around." - His facial expression did not change, there was no time for compassion on understanding when training these Witchers.
Vatkyr did as Master Bastian ordered, the explanation making it easier for him to understand the reasoning. The other Claws continued, with their mentor giving each Witcher advice on what to change and how to improve. With many of the other fledgling Witchers already taking contracts, he knew he was walking a very thin line in his teachings. On one hand, he told them his objective is to see them in 60 years' time as Masters and for that, they must stay alive. On the other, they all saw their fellow adepts taking contracts. Bastian's hope was that the fact not all of them returned proved his point.
As training finished an hour later, the young Witchers went to breakfast.
"Fen, you get your food and come to the library – with your Alchemy notes."
"Of course", replied Fen and went towards the main entrance – to get his personal notes first.
Bastian went straight for the library, having eaten earlier. Fen took many notes on alchemy, which made sense when noting his slit throat during training. It was time to make sure there were adequate and useful.
Fen walked into the library wielding a notebook in one hand, and a plate in the other. He walked up to the small table by the window, sitting opposite Master Bastian – who closed the book he was reading and walked up to the shelf which he got it from.
""Vampiricus Omnibus", by Aegato Davon." He turned to Fen. "Great book to understand to behaviour of the Bruxa and the Alp. Almost useless for encounters with the Mula. When you decide to read it, ignore chapter 8." He sat down at the table.
By the time they finished reviewing Fen's notes, a third of the Witcher's book was edited.
"Never use two shots of Light Essence in Golden Oriole, you'll wake up two days later with a headache lasting 4 more days. And use the creature's left kidney to gather it, it tends to be purer for some reason."
Fen listened intensely and modified his notes, double checking his notes on Swallow and other vital potions. As they finished the session, both saw it was well past breakfast time.
"If you don't mind Master, I'll use the afternoon for some mannequin training." Said Fen, standing up.
Bastian nodded, also standing up and turning towards the window. He was pleased to see both Seanna and Bodil training in the field. He was just as pleased to see Master Elinor sitting in the window of her second-floor room, enjoying a glass of midday mead and watching them. She was smiling.
He left the library and headed downstairs, to get some food and join his adepts. As he entered the reception hall, he saw three Blue Stripes speaking to Justus. The sight of a familiar face stopped him.
"Alfur. Lost?"
Alfur turned to look at his former mentor.
"No, Master Bastian. How have you been?"
"Quite well. Aren't you supposed to be in Temerian barracks?"
"They wanted a familiar face with the unit coming here, so I joined them."
"Well, I'm sure you weren't the only one to volunteer. They chose well." – Bastian turned and walked towards the rear exit. "You did not."
The door closed behind him, as he walked onto the Southern Quad. Seanna and Bodil were well into their practice, and Bastian leaned over the stone barriers to watch. He then saw Enzo and Velwyn heading from the armoury to the gauntlet, with single handed blades in their hands. Two flights of stairs and a dozen steps later, he let his hand rest on the lever controlling the speed on the gauntlet.
The two Witchers stood on one side of the gauntlet, preparing for a bit of warm up prior to light sparring. It was not to be.
"Velwyn, stand on this side. Blade in hand. You'll walk towards each other avoiding the gauntlet's movements – and will spar between its swings."
They both smiled, keen on the new exercise. As blades flew past them, they neared each other – their blunt blades ready. Eventually, one lone axe flew between them, and their swords clashed in parry versus attack – on either side. Their speed and focus on their timing impressed Bastian, but he did not break the concentration of his adepts with pointless compliments.
"Use low attacks, and DRAW your opponent! The fact that the axe is in the middle doesn't mean it's where you have to fight!" – Bastian decided to note.
This did not slow them down, but they responded to the advice. Unfortunately, both tried to draw the other. This only lasted for a few seconds, as Enzo moved forward to engage by the swinging saw in front of Velwyn. They now started to move, each attacker pushing through the swinging hazard and forcing the defender to retreat.
While attacking, Velwyn missed a step. A wooden pole struck her thigh, even though she forced Enzo deep into his half of the gauntlet. Bastian halted the hinges, locking the entire machine – and letting the two adepts step out. Velwyn massaged her thigh, as the swings were much faster than they were during the trial – when she was still just a human. Enzo stepped out and checked if she was ok, putting his arm on her shoulder. Their mentor looked at them.
"Well done, just focus on surroundings. We didn't practice strike accuracy nor open-field voids – but not bad. There is a much larger problem though… You two fight too well together. I understand you two know each other and work well together, and do not let go of that – but you WILL end up alone. Look at me and Master Elinor. We have been close friends and lovers for a… A very long time. And yet, we rarely train together. Do you not think I do not wish to train with her? She is the best Cat School fencer in existence, but I cannot allow myself to have my abilities tied to her. I try to sever my mind from her, and training together would only make it harder. So, Velwyn and Enzo, be very careful about what you are doing."
The two young Witchers both nodded in agreement, but there was a sense of reservation towards Master Bastian's advice. He turned to look at Elinor, still sitting in the room window. A smile and raised glass of mead proved to him that she also thinks The Claws are doing well. But perhaps that was an invitation? Or both? He decided to check.
An hour later, just after lunch had finished, Master Bastian (born of a dump in the mountains) entered the library to continue his private studies into ancient creatures. The perfect blend of frown followed by smile decorated his face as he saw Bodil sitting at the table, which was strewn with books. She was already rested after her fencing practice, but her hands were not – a mild shake made it difficult to turn the delicate pages of ancient tomes. Most of her chosen tomes focused on the Wyvern. She looked up.
"I took the contract, I have to fulfil it"
"And you will. Either by dying and entering Master Lennart's private notebook – or by bringing him the Wyvern's head. "My Favourite Wyvern Hunt" is fiction, don't read it" – he pointed at a green-leather-bound book on Bodil's table, by the window. "It will only make you lose focus, as it is mainly bollocks.", he added, while heading towards one of the shelves and picking up a book. "Forgotten Beasts", by Master Meinard of Metinna.
"What's that?" – asked Bodil, her natural curiosity getting the better of restraint before a Master Witcher fifty years her elder. Bastian turned around.
"A book by a friend and Master. It has some thoughts about battling creatures we may never face, but his observations tend to be accurate. His murder should not stop us from learning his craft." Bastian's face did not reveal any emotion, but that was enough to make Bodil understand she was alone in the library from now on. They sat opposite each other, in silence – the turning of pages and shifting of books were the only noises disturbing the silence of the room. Until the door flew open.
"Right, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you! Do you want to learn about hunting the Wyvern or not?!" – Master Algir's voice filled the room as perfectly as sweet Temerian wine fills a silver chalice. Bastian could not resist a smile.
"I do not. But I presume you do not mean me, Old Flower?" Said Bastian, letting his sudden good humour get the better of him.
"You are correct, Bastian. Thank you for joining in, always a delight to see you mid-conversation."
"I am ready, Master. Sorry, I was reading up on the Wyvern" – Bodil joined the exchange.
"Well, come on. I've prepared some of my notes and drawings – and you get to meet Troy."
Bodil raised an eyebrow. "Who's Troy?"
"He's a Wyvern Egg. My very own. Beautiful thing, but I worry the heat is not as good as I'd wish it to be for him to hatch one day…"
"An actual Wyvern Egg?" – Bodil asked, her eyes as wide as saucers. Bastian's smile widened – he was no longer reading.
"No, one made of bread and jelly… Of course a real one! What do you take me for? A theoretical professor? You've got the Temerian Beasts Academy for that!"
Bodil, as surprised as she was terrified, left the room with Master Algir – heading for the rooms of the palace which his experiments occupied. This included some of Master Meinards old rooms…
Bastian stayed in the library for an hour longer, continuing his studies into certain forgotten creatures. Eventually, however, he realised it is time to look outside. A quick gaze through the window was enough – Kit was diligently practicing with Master Elinor. It was time to join in and make sure his adept was doing well – Elinor had a tendency to be quite demanding of young Witchers. A feat Bastian always saw as one of her best.
Back outside, in the chilly afternoon sun, he neared the private lesson. It moved from mid-distance attack to engaged-blade shifts, so started heading into Bastian's favourite subject – using more than just the blade to defeat a human opponent.
"Shift the ball of your left foot outwards, you'll see your body aligns for an attack. Let go of the hilt, and hammerblow with your left hand. I said ball of the left foot… Good. Again."
Kit was listening intently, he wasn't a Witcher of many words – but he did as Elinor told him to. He was improving steadily, clearly having some experience of hand to hand fights in his previous life.
"Some hope for him, do you reckon Elinor?"
"Not yet. We will see. He has skills, but a long way to go"
Kit used the opportunity to grab a sip of water from his tankard, and was soon back to continue the exercises. Bastian gave him a pat on the shoulder as he got into stance again.
"Not bad." – Bastian added, while starting to walk towards the lake. He know this was a sure place to find Corin training sign-use. The noise of a falling mannequin proved him right.
Corin was working on pure technique, drawing the signs in mid-air with increasing accuracy. But they remained too curved, a typical problem for new Witchers. It weakens the sign and lowers its accuracy.
"Don't just draw the damn thing Corin…"
This startled the young man, who turned to see Master Bastian approach.
"Master?"
"Imagine it, like Master Dirk said. You have to see it in your mind before you draw it. Look."
He turned towards the mannequins and drew an Aard, setting it free once it was perfectly focused. A blue haze appeared around his left hand as the sign flew, dissipating quickly. One of the training mannequins flew 20 yards back, smashing into a tree and breaking into pieces.
"Remind me to apologise to Justus for that." Bastian turned back to Corin. "You aren't drawing the sign when you cast it, you are tracing a shape you have already drawn with your mind. That's what makes it powerful"
Corin nodded and turned towards the two remaining dummies, one already on the ground. He drew an Aard and let it go – a smaller haze surrounded his sign and a mannequin flew back around 5 yards, falling onto the deep grass by the tree-line. Corin smiled, impressed with his own abilities.
"See? Now go pick it up, bring it back, and let's try again." The lesson lasted about an hour, after which Master Bastian decided to call it time and see how some of his other adepts are doing. After a brief thank you from Corin, they parted ways – the trainee remaining by the dummies to continue his practice.
Bastian walked past other young Witchers trying out new and novel exercises – ignoring them all. He barely knew the names of a tenth of them. They were not Claws, and thus were not his responsibility. Some running past him, others going back into the palace to read up on subject they needed to improve on. The School teemed with life, even though the night was slowly coming – the first stars were just coming out.
The figure of Runar drew the Master Witchers attention. He was standing by a freshly lit fire, still breathing heavily from his afternoon exercises. The fire was to the palace's South-West, and was always a sight to remember – wood stacked as tall as an upright man. Bastian approached him.
"Everything ok, Runar?"
The Jarl's son turned. "Yes Master, just catching my breath."
For the next few minutes, as the both of them sat down, only the crackling of the fire and occasional clang of steel weapons from the fields could be heard.
Finally, Bastian broke the contemplation "They're not your family anymore. His sending you here meant he lost his son."
Runar nodded slowly. "I know. I wonder if there will be a chance for me to show him that what he wanted to prove, worked. But at a price he didn't see."
"You'll get your chance. Ard Skellige is becoming more dangerous by the month, and soon we will have to head that way to make a few extra coin. Then, you'll seek him out and say the compulsory hello."
"How long though? Not that I want to run that way tomorrow, but not knowing makes it harder to look ahead."
"Then don't. Get a contract, a simple one – fuck, I can go with you for support in the beginning. Get it done and sink your Skellige teeth into this new life you have. Being a monster can be quite a bit of fun, you know" Bastian smiled. Runar smiled back.
They both turned to the tree line as steps could be heard from a lone person. Bipedal, heavy, controlled. Fast, but heavy breathing - clearly carrying something. They frowned and focused their eyes to see what was it that has heading their way. Runar reached for an axe by his side, Bastian scratched his nose. They saw Aubert, with a freshly killed deer on his shoulders.
He walked up to the fire and dropped his prey.
"You do know we have a quite functional kitchen inside?" Asked Bastian, looking at the deer.
"Yes, but I wanted to go for a hunt"
"Master Toril would be quite proud… Nice shot. A bit of a wasted afternoon of training, but each to their own I suppose…"
"On the field, or past it?" Runar joined the conversation.
"Just past, it was grazing on the treeline."
"Nicely done, I like that spot"
"Hold it, you two. You're supposed to train and prepare for actual contracts, NOT against deer."
Aubert looked up at Master Bastian. "So you don't want a piece?"
"Shut up and skin it. Done anything else today?"
"Sure, had some time to spar this morning. Got me into the mood."
"Fair enough, not a wasted day then." Bastian turned back to the fire, as Aubert started skinning the catch.
A little while later, they got servants to bring all that was necessary to start making the meat over the fire.
"Well, looks like training is done for the day?" – Seanna's voice appeared out of the darkness, a couple bottles of drink in her hands. She was closely followed by Master's Elinor and Dirk, each with drinks of their own.
As further faces appeared out of the darkness, the night had begun. After an hour, Grand Master Treysse even saw this was an event worth joining. With 30 Witchers, 10 of whom Masters and one Grand Master, around a fire – it was the both the safest and most dangerous place to be in the surrounding hundred miles. One thing was sure though. No alghoul would cut this party short.