The Tale of the Witcher Schrödinger
Chapter 1: Faith's Fetters
Death is something that, at some level, exists in each and every human's existence. We all die, at some point in our lives. This is no different for witchers, or even sorcerers; a witcher too, ages and dies. And although a sorcerer may enchant their lives to nigh-immortal status, they would still see others wither and perish as they live on, if not to fall victim to some kind of accident themselves. This is what Schrödinger would tell himself if he ever felt troubled by the slaying of another human being, for he was a witcher of the school of the Cat, and outright murder was never out of a question – until recently. Schrödinger was currently the victim of a curse, and a powerful one at that. He had recently been given a contract to kill a former priest of the Eternal Fire, who had spoken out against the very faith he preached, well, formerly. The priest had declared that the entire faith was a farce, and had convinced his followers to bring this truth to the people to end the witch hunts and pogroms. He no longer wanted to see the power that faith gives men misused for selfish ends. And as such, the church had to silence him, and who better to ask than a godless witcher? A mutant created only to kill? Schrödinger had to admit, he liked the job as soon as he heard it, for he too, knew all too well what faith could do to a man and those who followed him.
Unfortunately, when it came time for the priest to die, he had the intelligence to curse Schrödinger with his dying breath. Knowing he was a witcher, the priest spoke in koviri as he lay dying on his altar, burning, to make it seem as though it was divine punishment, and as soon as his final words reached a shrieking pitch as the flames engulfed him, Schrödinger could feel a powerful magic take hold of him. What it was, he had no clue, as he did not speak koviri, but his heart stopped beating, his vision started getting blurry, and he fell to the floor, feeling the heat from the flame as his own left his body.
When Schrödinger awoke, he was lying in a pile of corpses, completely naked. He felt a tugging on his boot and realised he was in the middle of being looted of all his gear, as two peasants covered in filth held his swords, clothes and one was reaching for his cat medallion. Schrödinger's anger bubbled and rose to a boil in a flash and he grabbed the peasant's wrist, twisting it and flipping him over and into the other peasant, and they both went down with a crash. He could feel his medallion vibrating constantly against his bare chest. He grabbed the closest peasant by the neck and began to squeeze, hard, watching him claw at his throat and Schrödinger's hands. The other peasant fumbled and drew one of the witcher's swords, running for a thrust with a pointless yell. Schrödinger moved his arm and watched as the sword plunged through the first peasant's chest, spraying him with hot blood. At the sight of it, Schrödinger's eyes went wide, and he dropped the now limp corpse in front of him and screamed in pain, as he felt what he first thought to be a sword wound penetrate his own chest. But as he looked down at his chest, he saw only the peasant's blood on him. The other peasant, at seeing his comrade killed and the screaming witcher, dropped everything and ran as fast as he could away from him. Schrödinger slowly stood, and watched as his skin went from a deathly pale, back to the normal hue he was used to seeing. He could feel his heart explode in his chest once again as it began to beat. His vision slowly returned to normal, but before he could process all this, he was suddenly overcome with a strange feeling, one of guilt. The renewed beating of his heart brought with it a pain that he had ended a life. Never before in his life had he felt this feeling before and it brought him to his knees, screaming with a new kind of pain.