A cold wind slithered over the snow, between the trees that covered the sloped mountainside, carrying with it the smell of winter, of ice and of the everlasting green fir forest.

Carefully protected from the deadly breath of the Dragon Mountains, far in the north of the Northern Kingdoms, three little brown dots in the white snow were glued to each other beneath a giant rock. Like lost birds trying to survive winter, they were sharing their heat, motionless at the exception of their arms rubbing their sore bodies.

The two men and the woman were strangely equipped for travellers, wearing the heavy coats of the wise men of the regions, but not much more. No tent, no bag of food, no dry wood, not even their own bowl and fork. What they had, however, were weapons. The woman, whose red hair were falling over her head, wore a long dagger strapped at her tight. A massive crossbow, of nearly half a meter, was leaned against the rock beside her. Her eyes were seemingly lost on the horizon, towards the mountains surrounding them. She was like a statue, frozen in time, watching over the valleys below.

The man near her was much less still, and was rubbing his arms vigorously. He had no weapons but a knife he had strapped above his heart and a bag of mysterious content. He had the thin bear of a forgetful man, but the body of those who wander the roads. He often took a small book out of his bag to read it, to keep his mind off the cold. It didn't seem to work.

The tallest man was hiding his head in a warm cowl, rubbing his hands together to ward off the pain felt by men of his age. While in remarkable shape, his silver bear and wrinkles betrayed that his past was longer than his future. Yet the thin curved sword at his side showed that he wasn't just ready to fade yet.

He was the first to notice the sound of footstep in the snow just above them, immediately followed by a figure sliding at their side. Every hands closed to their weapons in an instant, only to stop when they recognized their yellow eyed guest. Sporting a leather armour and two swords on his back, Geralt of Rivia was returning from his scouting mission.

The woman spoke first.

"Did you find a trail?

-Yeah, interrupted the man with a book, preferably one that leads to a mead. This place is awful.

-The horses are still were we left them. Maybe you'd better run to them before you get us all killed, harshly replied the witcher.

-Roach certainly is better company.

-Please, intervened their cowled companion with a soft voice, this is not the time.

-Geralt, repeated the woman. did you find the fortress?

-I did, and it's like the townsfolk said. One road, no cover. The bandits are watching it too closely, we should wait for the night.

-My friend, I'm afraid the hostages will not have that long, said the old man.
-And neither will us, completed his younger companion, at night we'll all freeze to death.
-You shutting up? Smirked Geralt. Tempting.
-You sunava...

-Enough! Both of you!"

The authoritative voice of the red headed women interrupted the argument before it began. She looked them in the eyes without flinching and continued.

"We have a mission, rescue those people. But none of us is going to make it if we lose sight of what's important. Of why we're all here. The hostages. And they can't wait one more minute. Geralt, you told us that the castle was near a cliff. Did you confirmed it?

-It is. As expected the western side is unassailable. And don't even think about climbing, if the snow won't make you slip, the wind will snatch you off in an instant. However... there is probably a hidden passage. Those castles always have those.

-That'll have to do. Ezio?"

The aged man lifted his head.

"Go with Geralt, find another entrance. Infiltrate the castle and free the hostages if you can.

-Shepard... grumbled the witcher.

-Don't worry Geralt, said Ezio with a smile, I know how to make myself quiet. And who knows, perhaps we'll find a beautiful woman among the hostages. Or two."

As they went off in the snow, she turned to the last man beside her.

"Drake, you're coming with me. I want to see that entrance for myself, and if need be we'll provide a distraction.
-Am I being babysitted? Because that looks like babysitting. Said Drake, nonetheless glad to get up.

-Of course not, she replied with a snide smile, if we're captured, I need someone to talk them to death.

-Point taken..."

She grabbed her crossbow and followed, knee deep in the snow, the trail that Geralt had left from his reconnaissance. Behind her, Drake was looking at the giant walls of stone that even the forest couldn't completely hide. Even abandoned and in ruin, the Girth fortress stood like a slumbering titan, ready to crush any who would dare disturb his sleep. The poor man locked his hand on the strap of his bag and sighted.

"And here we go again..."

Geralt and Ezio carefully scrutinized the side of the mountain, out of sight from the high walls of the derelict castle. The grey stone from which they were build were the same as the one they were observing, reinforcing the illusion that the construction had spurn out of the ground, mighty, invincible. But they were too old to be fooled by such grandeur. No man, no sane man, decides to invest the lives of a generation and the resources of years of work into a place like this without a good reason in mind.
Girth Castle, or Old Girth as some called it in the villages below, had been a retreat from the world, far from the commercial routes and away from the centre of the kingdom. While the kingdom of Povir and Koviss was renowned for the ore that made its fortune, there were very few mines in Velhad. Mountains too steep, winters too harsh and worse, monsters too free. The colossal castle had been build with the legendary wild monsters in mind, as well as the monstrosities of men.

It was a haven to protect whoever went in from one of the less hospitable climate and fauna of the Northern Kingdom. And so, it had to have some kind of secret passage in the mountains, in order for the inhabitants to flee is besieged, if only a few of them.

Ezio sighted.

"Any chance my friend?

-I would have told you.

-I believe we both know finding a secret passage will not be easy, let me entertain you with an alternative."

The witcher looked back at him. Throughout the months they spend together, Ezio had shown a tendency at being shifty, cunning, but never begrudging before a tiring task even if he could have used his age as an excuse. In fact, the man was quite stoic before them all, always keeping a friendly face, hiding a lifetime of experience. Geralt respected that, and that was why he listened to the proposition, silently encouraging Ezio to go on.

"I may not be good enough to climb the cliff, but I believe I'll sooner climb the walls than find a possible escape passage which, for all we know, link the fortress to the other side of the mountain.

-Climbing a wall in broad daylight is how stories ends.

-Only if they look at me. I may need your help but I know I can sneak us in that way."

If it was up to the white wolf, Geralt would have waited for the night, when the enemies were at their weakest, before attempting any form of rescue. Perhaps he wouldn't even have took the job in the first place, he was a hunter not a mercenary. Yet circumstances had forced him into this situation and he would see it through, no matter how bad it felt it was all going to end. He nodded, and they went back, hidden by the trees.

"Satisfied?"

Shepard wasn't at all, for the path was exactly as Geralt had described. From beneath a group of trees the wind had collapsed on each other, the two companions had a clear view of the road and the northern walls, where the only entrance was. The road itself was nigh a joke, more of a path amidst the dense forest leading to a castle whose walls were starting to crumble under the weight of the snow, and time. The harrow and the sturdy wooden door were intact however, and the men guarding it from behind the battlements were sharp and attentive. They even had cut the trees for 100 meters in front of the walls to prevent anyone from sneaking past their view.
From their equipment, their position and their movements, Shepard could already see that they were no ordinary bandits or highwaymen. Too coordinate, too well assorted and well equipped. Something was wrong.

"This place is very well guarded, a bit too well.

-Isn't that the point of a fortress?

-They're supposed to be bandits, kidnappers. Those people are trained."

Drake took a good look at them, he didn't like it either.

"After the Nilfgard tried to invade the northern kingdoms a few years back, started Drake, a lot of mercenaries lost their job and were send back to their farm or whatever they were doing. Some of them didn't like it.

-But why go all the way up here.

-I don't know. This kingdom is rich, and considering its neutrality in the conflict, their resources are still intact. But you're right, something is definitively up here."

Despite her military attitude that was kind of annoying, the man liked Shepard better than the other two. It had been at least a year and half since he had had the occasion to speak English, and not the local language. It reminded him of the warmth of his home, a nostalgic feeling he didn't want to feel yet. He wasn't old enough to be Sully.

"You think Lord Olrik is a trustworthy sort?

-What? No, nononono. Olrik is as bastard as bastard can be. He rigged my trial. I am innocent, if this needs to be said again.

-Drake, I'm letting you in my back with a knife in your hand. I think that's enough to show you my trust."

She smiled, although it was only partly true. She trusted the man, but she had been wrong before. And Shepard didn't want Drake to know that she was ready to kill him should he tried to betray them and escape. However it wasn't a knife she felt in her shoulder, but his hand tapping frantically.

"What the hell are they doing?"

Across the trees, they saw Geralt and Ezio slowly sneaking along the side of the mountains, toward the walls. As she feared, they hadn't found the secret entrance and were now trying to climb the obstacle. But with that much attention towards this side of the wall, they had no chance of succeeding. Shepard gave her crossbow to Drake.

"You know how to use that?

-Well, yes, but... I don't see the reload mechanism.

-There isn't one, so make it count. Don't unless it's necessary.

-Wait... where are you going?

-Distraction."

She got up and went down the scouting track before joining the road. Then, she took a deep breath and went up again, ready to face the fortress.

The lone woman stood, an ant in the snow, before the mighty doors of the Girth Fortress. She had been spotted as soon as she left the cover of the forest, and felt the eyes of the sentries, grasping at their bow. Yet none stopped her, or warned her. She was now but twenty meters away from the entrance when she lifted her head to the ones who observed her.

"Hey! Is there a warm place for a messenger?"

The walls stayed strangely silent to her call, the men only staring at her with intensity. She felt a shiver, but didn't budge an inch. Far to her left, Ezio and Geralt were waiting for an opening. She was going to give it to them.

"Aren't you going to open the doors at least? It'll be nightfall soon!

-Why are you here! Shouted one of the guards. There isn't anything for you here.

-I'm here in the name of Lord Olrik as a negotiator. He wishes to know what it'll take to have his people back."

The guards seemed to be muttering to themselves. When suddenly, in a loud crack, The harrow lifted itself and the doors began to open. Behind it, five men in arms were standing. She resisted the urge to look on her left to see if she had given the men the opportunity they needed. Drake, however, had all the he needed.

Whoever those people were, they knew that the weakest spot of their fortress was were it stood against the side of the mountain, giving any would be climber more holding. And it was there that Ezio and Geralt were trying to go. However, two guards had just placed themselves there as soon as Shepard arrived, blocking the way. He cursed under his breath, but quickly saw an opportunity. The other side, while having little to no cover either, had no more guards on its walls.

"Ho... Drake. What are doing? He muttered to himself while unpacking his bag and strapping the crossbow on his back. Why Drake, I'm about to do something stupid, what else did you expect?"

The doors had just began to open when he ran towards the other side. The sky was clear, but the snow was uneven. As long as everyone on the walls was focusing on Shepard and the mountainside, he shouldn't have any problem sneaking to the wall. After that, well, do or die. The hundred meters were an eternity. Risking a few looks above the snow, he could see the red headed woman talking to the five men surrounding her. It wasn't good for her, but none was looking in his direction.
When he got to the wall, the true fun began. His fingers took hold of any hollowed stone, of every crack, and he lifted himself. He was doing it as fast as possible, first because he was dreadfully exposed, climbing in plain daylight the walls of a manned fortress, but also because the cold had numbed his body. Burying his hands in the snow that accumulated on the walls, nearly made him lost sensation, but in a few instant and a great deal of effort, he was at the top.
Thankfully, crates had been moved on the walk, allowing him to hide. From above, he couldn't see Geralt and Ezio anymore, only Shepard, surrounded. On the other side of the wall, however, he saw that it was deserted. They had seven men on the wall, five outside the fort and one inside, beside a wheel probably linked to the harrow.

With no way of communicating with the rest of the team, he was a bit lost. Should he tried to infiltrate the fort? Free the hostages? Or create a diversion?

He couldn't see the hostages anywhere, but he hoped he wasn't too wrong when he made his choice. Quietly getting out of cover, he grabbed the heavy crossbow and directed its thick bolt to the lone guard at the wheel below. For an instant, he took aim, prepared his shot.

"Hey who is..."

The bolt snapped free of the crossbow and smashed through the chest of the guard, impaling him on the ground in a gory fashion.

"Bullseye! He exulted, just before realising that the archers were now aiming at his ass now. Ho crap!"

He jumped from the wall inside the court, narrowly dodging several projectiles who shattered against the stone. Below him, the flight of stair leading to the wall broke his fall and made him hurtling down like a rag doll. Disoriented, feeling like run over by a mob, but burning with adrenaline, he stood up almost immediately, kissing the wall in order to escape the archers. On the other side, he heard the screaming of battle, and of death, as men were being undoubtedly cut down. He rushed to the door, hoping to be of assistance.
As he got to the entrance, it was already over. Shepard, her short sword in hand, was covered in blood, the five men lying dead at her feet as she carved her way beneath the gate. Following just behind her, Geralt, his sword drawn, fast as a panther. She threw away her bloody dagger and grabbed the crossbow from Drake's hand. By sheer strength alone, she cocked a bolt in the weapon and ran toward the centre of the courtyard.

"Take care of the archers! Drake, come with me, we must not let them harm the hostages!"

Without much thinking, the young man ran after her as the white wolf engaged the fighters trying to get down the stairs. By the time, he got to the door to the inside of the castle, he could have sworn none of the bandits were left alive. It was terrifying, exhilarating, and stupidly dangerous. It had been a while since he got himself in such a situation.

Despite the sudden rush, the battle was over long before they all calmed down. Shepard was searching with the utmost urgency for any other bandits, but in vain for the group that had welcomed them obviously were the only ones here.
Then, they separated in order to find the hostages faster. The castle had truly been abandoned for a long time. The ground was uneven, many floors had collapsed along with most of the roofs. The bandits had made their nest in the caves below, that were either the dungeon or the cellar at first, but shown clear mark of further digging. There was no way of telling how far the tunnels went, especially since some of them had collapsed too. It wasn't men that destroyed this place, but time, neglect, and the unforgiving sky of Velhad.

Geralt was the first to find the hostages, poor sods locked up deep underground, far from both the cold and the sun. But when the other gathered at his call, they all knew it was not going to be as simple as they thought.

"They look... Empty", said Ezio both in awe and disgust.

They were all sitting on the ground, with torn clothes and bowls of food in front of them. They were at least fifteen, but none even acknowledge the presence of the company, the smell of blood on their clothes or the heat of Ezio's torches. They were slowly rocking back and force, occasionnaly turning the head away from the light, if the torch passed to close to them. They didn't speak, not even a whisper. It was as if they were already dead.

"They've been here a while, observed Geralt. Their skin is paled, their eyes are functional in the dark. They have food, and judging by the smell of the latrine pit further down, they eat it.

-What do you mean? How long? Pressed Shepard.

-Weeks, perhaps months.

-Well... I guess it explains this. Completed Ezio, giving Geralt a bloodied piece of paper.

-Mercenaries of the White Foot, read Geralt out loud, a company of three men and a woman is approaching the fortress. You are to interrogate them and then kill them. Who send them, why are they here, does they have anything to do with the curse. Bring me the head of the one called Nathan Drake. You'll be rewarded accordingly to your success..."

He put the paper down, and said with a monochord voice.

"Lord Edoluk Olrik.

-There's no mistake? Asked the red headed woman.

-It even has his seal. This was a trap, I knew it was a mistake.

-It was the price for saving Drake's head.

-By the way, why does he wants you dead so bad?

-I think I now understand why...," he answered.

While all had gathered around the note, Nathan had took a closer look at the empty men and women. He had now taken a few notes on the dusty ground, forming symbols with his fingers. Ezio was taken aback.

"Magic?

-Yeah. Well, not me, he added quickly, but they all have that mark below the ear. I've seen it before

-I know part of that sign, said Geralt, the curve below is suppose to link the mind to the spell. It's some sort of charm.

-I need the books I left outside, I may be able to see what it's about.

-You know of magic signs? Asked Ezio visibly suspicious. So the trial wasn't completely rigged after all.

-It's... it's complicated ok?

-There isn't much more to do then," concluded Shepard.

She took Ezio's torch and put it on a holder nearby.

"There's no way we can bring them all back to Gorneum before the night. I suggest we clean up above, bring the horses in the stables, then pass the night here. That'll give you all the time to explain your complicated story Drake.

-I want to hear that too, added Geralt. Lords don't send witchers to their death without a damn good reason or a death wish. And I want to know more about that curse."

Nathan suddenly felt like he was on trial all over again. But this time, maybe he'll get to say his side of the story.