Authors notes. i have read some really good fan fiction on this site that has inspired me to give it a go.
i am by no means an expert writer so feedback is appreciated. i am a huge fan of the witcher universe and hope you enjoy the story.
so my first upload failed spectacularly -_- lets try again.
Chapter 1: That went well.
Most witchers never leave the path some take breaks trying to spend their time doing other hobbies from tavern owing to wine brewing. These are few and far between though and most witchers will meet their fate on the path as the saying goes no witchers ever died in his own bed.
Marden hadn't been on the path in five years, surprisingly the reason for leaving the path was not because of the occupational hazard of being killed by a monster but being killed by the people they were supposed to protect from the monsters. Having had more than few instances than he would like where the village had turned on him after they were rid of their affliction naturally.
The straw that finally broke the camels back however was an instance in the swamps of Velen where marden took a contract on a foglet or more accurately foglets that where taking children in the night, after the battle was over and marden dragged the three foglet heads out of the swamp half covered in the dirty mass of the swamp himself and very tired instead of being met by a thankful village (even a witcher can dream) he was met by the members of the witch hunters.
The witch hunters doubled the pay that they had paid the witcher in an effort to try and capture and kill the witcher it was an offer most starving peasants wouldn't have turned down.
Not being on the path however didn't limit marden from making money. Being a witcher he was more than capable at making a living with his hands more precisely the bare knuckle tournaments that where held around the region and the underground fighting circuit that was run by now the big two of Novigrad that being cleaver and the king of beggars.
This is where we find our witcher under the bath house in Novigrad now run by happen, After the passing of the count happen managed to sort out the books and keep the bath house operational whilst making a deal with the last two mob bosses of the city to run a few of their fight nights from there.
"Taking the last bets of the night ladies and gentlemen, last fight last bets."
The book makers cries echoed off the stone walls under the bath house where the cries of the punters sounded more like thunder as their voices roared through the tunnels of the free city. The stench of smoke, blood, sweat and ale of all variety's hung in the air like an ominous cloud on a sunny day thick and heavy, while the punters bade for blood.
"In the left corner, we have Marden of Metinna, and in the right corner we have Dodas from Oxenfurt."
Marden was sat leaning himself up against the wall with a bottle of dwarven spirit in his hand, the wraps on his hands that had previously been white and clean at the beginning of the night where now black with the crimson stains of blood, mardens face was bloody and bruised as the gentle stream of blood ran from over his right eyebrow down the side of his face and onto the cold stone floor.
"Damn skelligan pirates."
Marden spat the remaining blood in his mouth on to the floor and swallowed down a few gulps of the spirit to wash the copper taste of blood away.
"Master witcher, the round is about to start rise or you shall be disqualified".
"Come on you mutant freak ill smash you into the ground".
The slender challenger form oxenfurt voice broke as he goaded the arguably better fighter, even if slightly bruised.
As the witcher rose to turn towards the centre of the make shift ring that was formed by benches being laid on their side, stepping over the bench and into the light the witchers figure came to bare, standing at six foot with broad shoulders and solid frame similar to the dock workers of Novigrad, his torso was bare covered in scars as evidence of a life on the path, the most prominent scars were four parallel lines running diagonally from his left shoulder to his right hip, his hair was jet black and closely cut to his head.
As the round started the two challengers circled each other as the crowd growing anticipation filled the room like a swell on the tide.
Surprisingly to the crowd it was the oxenfurt challenger that threw the first punch straight to the witchers jaw, although one eye was shutting because of the blood flow from his eyebrow was now trickling into his eye.
Marden managed to slip to the left whilst firing back his own shot a right hand to the face, the distinct sound of bone breaking cracked like the sound of whip as the nose of the challenger was flooding out with blood. There was no time to react though as a left hook to the body came crashing into his ribs and was finished off by a right uppercut that lifted the challenger of the floor.
Gasps from the crowd turned into dead silence as the crowd tried to compartmentalise what they had seen, finally the challenger started to stir and the silence was broken by the cheer of mob boss cleaver.
"Bloody good show that witcher come see me after you've cleaned yourself up we have some business to discuss, right the rest of you clear out I don't care where you go but you cannot stay here".
Changing out of his blood stained Skellige breaches into his boots and black hunting pants before wiping the remainder of blood of his torso. Marden then donned his white under shirt, black gambeson and a chain mail jacket complete with another white cotton shirt and a dark green over tunic with a brown sleeveless leather vest. His entangled snake medallion was draped over his head and hung their proudly.
However his symbolic two swords where nowhere to be seen instead he was sporting a boot knife on his right foot, a buck knife on his left shoulder and a tanto dagger on his right shoulder, aside from these he had the two large knifes that his brother Letho of Gulet had across his chest only marden preferred to carry his with one on his right hip and the other across the front of his left hip.
As the crowd slowly started to disperse marden turned to the book maker and made a B-line straight for him before he could make it out of the underground.
"That went well, now five fights for 500 crowns an opponent that's 2,500 crowns".
"Yes, well master witcher you see"
"Don't you ploughing dare think of short changing me after the night I've had."
The silence of the book maker was more than any word could say as his shaking hands presented a full coin pouch that was placed into the witchers satchel that he carried that was strapped across his body.
The cold night air of the city of Novigrad cooled the burning sweat of the witchers forehead as he made his way through the narrow dimly lit streets to the 'office' of one of the deadliest dwarfs in the city.
As marden stepped through the door of the make shift office clever was sat at his desk with only a few candles to light the room, sporting his trademark pelt jacket and a metal mace was propped up against the desk.
Counting out the coins that he made from the events of the night, cleavers focus didn't break from counting, the dim lights of the candles bounced of the golden amber coins casting shadows on every surface.
"Ah witcher."
The gruff dwarf spoke, after finishing the stack of coins that he had counted he leaned back and poured himself a drink.
"The names marden, what do you want cleaver I've had a long night."
The witchers response was equally as gruff and stoic.
"Well touch a nerve did I ha ha, very well marden I have a contract for you."
"I'm not interested."
"Don't be too hasty witcher it's not what you think, I'm not having you hunt down some drowners near the cove me and my boys can handle them."
Marden didn't know if it was blind curiosity that drove him to ask why or if the brawls of the night had knocked the sense right out of him he left the path for a reason after all, nevertheless the words left his mouth all the same.
As he sat forward massaging the muscle and knuckles in his hands he left out an exasperated tone.
"Fine what is it."
"A member of the scoia'tael came to me today turn out some spies have gone missing."
"That's not much to go on."
"I wasn't finished these spies where disguised as a circus troupe one female elf, two male elves and four skelligan security guards."
"Who took them and why would they take the skelligans."
"As it happens the witch hunters and because they saw them travelling the road haven't you noticed the hanging burned corpses and how most of the bits are empty the none humans are leaving and any human seen aiding non humans is judge with them."
"What makes you so safe cleaver."
"Money talks marden, so will you take the contract."
"What makes you so invested in this matter."
"Call it my humanitarian side."
Marden scoffed at the idea of this dwarf having any concern about anything other than money, but he knew that's all the answer he would get.
"Hmm how much are we talking tracking down a missing person is hard enough that's without the added danger of witch hunters, having to free the kidnapped this isn't going to be cheap, plus I don't even know what they did to get captured."
"These particular set of spies give me certain information about the Redanian army and I may or may not help the fight."
Marden ears perked up when he herd the fight, a rumour had been circulating that the so called rebel group where taking action against the witch hunters and order of the flaming rose. And if it's one thing marden loved more than fighting it was watching them slimy headed witch hunters who only followed the faith when it suited them get their comeuppance.
"Ten thousand crowns."
"ha ha you've got some fucking balls witcher, usually you'd be crawling out of here" cleaver was tapping his mace, made out of pure steel with lines and ridges forming his grip, the shaft of the mace was covered in ancient dwarf runes and the head of the solid ball of steel that had slight indentations around it which caught mardens eye.
"but under the circumstances and the value of this group we have a deal. Now let's have a drink I'd say you've earned it after the arse kicking you've handed out tonight."
As the hours ticked on by it was in the late evening when marden and cleaver parted ways.
"Tomorrow witcher, the contact will meet you past the forest just at the clearing near the lighthouse outside the city walls, he will be dressed as a hunter approach him and ask about the missing white stag."
"hmm inventive, what about my pay."
A loud bellow of a laugh came from the dwarf as he sat beside his stack of gold coins that had all been counted and piled up.
"Always with the eye on the prize, five tomorrow and the rest when you're back here, just find and release the troupe into the hands of the scoia'tael at the drop off the same place where you met the hunter, he will be there on your return understood?"
"How will you know when they're free."
"Let's just say I have my ways, the contact will have your money."
And with that the meeting was at a close, marden rose and turned towards the door descending down the tunnel past the hench dwarfs who were gambling and drinking.
Walking through the empty cold streets to his pre-rented room at the passiflora in the secret room, marden felt the soft beat of the rain over his tunic hood.
"There he his that's the thief."
The voice came from the shadows of one of the side alleys that branched of the main streets, marden was pre occupied with the thought of what could lay in store for him with the contract he had just accepted, weighing up all the possibilities that could go wrong in the end he reconciled that after the five years he spent off the path that there would never be a right time to re-join the path and he had to accept the fact that whatever fate had in store for him he would face it like a witcher.
"Stop thief by order of the hierarch."
The men appeared form the shadows, the torches revealed their numbers four witch hunter all armed were approaching the witcher in the company of the bookmaker.
"Now gentlemen surely we can discuss this like civil people."
"Quiet freak." one of the guards spat as he drew his sword.
It was with this act of aggression that marden knew he wasn't going to be arrested or were they going to take the money that the bookmaker thought he was owed.
Marden took a step back placing his right leg behind his left in a ready stance, with his hands by his side and his right hand was twitching with the anticipation.
"Listen I didn't steal a thing I won the coin fair and square."
"We don't care freak we know your type, they lie and use tricks now get on your knees."
The leader of the group of witch hunters drew his sword and step forward placing the tip of the sword on the witchers chest.
Marden closed his eyes took a deep breath and imagining the set of moves that would get him past the hunters, it felt as if time had slowed down but only seconds passed.
The rain had intensified the heavy pounding was replaced by streams and streams of a shower getting whipped up by the wind.
"On your knees!"
The witchers eyes snapped open, in one fluid motion marden brought his left arm across his chest breaking the contact the steal sword had on his tunic simultaneously grabbing the knife from his right hip and driving the blade through witch hunter's eye and out the back of his skull jamming the blade there.
"Shit." There was a cry from the second witch hunter who was slow on the draw of his sword.
Marden turned towards the second witch hunter, he saw the panic set in as he hurried to draw his sword, marden pushed down the hunter's right hand as he drew his second knife from his left hip and drove it through the witch hunters throat, slamming to the ground clutching his throat as he dropped to his knees choking on his own blood.
Spinning to face the third hunter who was bringing his sword down overhead, marden grabbed him by the wrist and plunged his knife through the underside of his chin into his brain, feeling the warm flow of blood running down his hand and the front of the witch hunters tanned leather coat.
Marden let the hunter drop with his knife still stuck in his skull as he faced the final guard his amber eyes burning with fury and snarling in an animalistic rage, in sheer terror the guard swung his sword at the unarmed witcher.
Marden stepped to his right catching the witch hunters arm by the wrist under his own arm whilst interlocked his arms forming a figure four breaking the witch hunters arm at the elbow taking his sword and running him the chest.
As he stood there in the barely lit tunnel surrounded by the carnage he had just brought down he almost completely forgot about the one who instigated the attack, the book maker was crouched down hiding away from the witcher.
"That went well, get here you whoreson."
Gripping the bookmaker by the collar and dragging him up to eye level the witcher took the tanto from right shoulder and drove it through the bookmaker's hand pinning him to the wall whilst covering his mouth to muffle the scream.
Collecting his knifes and wiping the blood of the dead witch hunters off his blades marden checked their bodies for extra coin before going over to his piñata. Where he stood silently collecting his thoughts as the bookmaker had stopped squirming.
Walking over he drove three body hooks into the side of his new friend, before taking a deep breath and collecting his thoughts again as the rage drained out of his face.
"Pp-pp please master witcher I." the book maker face was white with terror as his sentence was cut short.
"Have you herd of the knife game mumble-peg." the witchers voice was now essentially a deep growl.
The piñata shook his head not saying anything still in shock at how he hadn't managed to pull the dagger from his hand and nearly passing out with shock.
"Never mind, it was just one of the many knifes games that where played when I was a lad".
Marden reached down to his boot dagger, flipping the blade over in his hand holding it blade first, marden threw the dagger it expertly landed inches away from his face, that was the last thing the book maker saw before passing out.
"hm just as I thought."
Collecting his boot dagger and cleaning the tanto of blood marden gathered the remainder of the book makers coin and set off towards the passiflora.
