Hello everybody I am back and on schedule! I hope you enjoy the last chapter(And if you didn't, why are you here?)and its time to head straight back into the maw of the beast! Enough dilly-dallying and lets get back into the second chapter of The Wolven Maw!
Disclaimer: Don't own FT or the Witcher series, etc. etc.
Chapter Two: A Wolf in Orcs Clothing
Rain pattered down in buckets on the port town of Magnolia. Pools of the liquid lay still upon the roads, and every window was shut tight. Save the occasional thunderclap or lightning bolt; the only sound one could hear was the muted hum of the storm. Geralt, however, could hear clear as day. "Romeo! Get in here or you'll catch a cold!" A man yelled from the patio of a rundown guild building. Geralt couldn't help but steal a peak as he sauntered past atop Roach. Near the entrance of the guildhall was a small, and very run down sign that read:Fairy Tail. A boy was standing just outside of the main door, he looked to be fifteen at the most. Before his father pulled him back inside the boy noticed Geralt and gave him a nod. The brief moment the guild door was open Geralt picked up the sound of quite a few voices. "Gray I'm going to make you eat those words!" yelled one of the voices.
"You never learn, do you Natsu?!" Screamed the other. Geralt sighed, that sounded like a regular old bar fight. One that he'd love to take part in, earn some money, but he wasn't here for that. He was here for Twilight Ogre, Magnolia's town guild.
If Robin's directions were correct. The guildhall should be right... Geralt looked up from his map and stared down the main road. There. The building was much larger than he expected. It was constructed in layers, with the foundation chiseled out of marble. Twilight Ogre was written over the main entrance in stone letters. All in all the building looked professional, if not a little gaudy. Even though everybody was stuck inside because of the rain; Geralt could tell that the guild was heavily populated. It was the little things that tipped him off. The slight indentations in the mud and soil, the erosion of the stone roads, and the stench of the city.
"Are we going to go teach those Fairy Tail bugs a lesson today Thibault?" Geralt heard a man, presumably a mage, ask another as their group walked past Geralt. Embroidered upon their shoulders was some sort of green brand.
That must be their guild mark. He thought as he watched the group of mages pass from under his hood. To be honest Geralt thought the whole 'guild mark' idea was idiotic. For someone like him, any type of identification was something that could be used against him. But if he wanted to join a guild and start making some money; then he'd have to deal with it. When he finally arrived at the guildhall his nose was immediately assaulted by the stench of alcohol. These mages must love their drink. Geralt thought as he wrapped his hand around the handle of the large entrance door. With a rather loud creak the White Wolf entered the building. And what he saw was... unusual... to say the least. Junior's casino was the closest thing in memory he could compare Twilight Ogre's guildhall to. Everything was draped in a fine green leather; while the walls were plated with marble.
"Hey Master! Some old fart just walked in!" One of the mage's yelled. Geralt ignored the 'old' comment and kept walking. Eventually he came to the back of the guildhall; where the guild's master, Banaboster, was sat. The man didn't even spare him a glance.
"Who are you?" Banaboster asked him. "If you're here for the property taxes, they're on my desk." When Geralt didn't respond the guild master sighed and looked up at him. "Look if you're here to waste my time then..." Banaboster stopped mid-sentence when he saw the two swords.
"I heard that this is the place for those wishing to join a guild." Geralt said as he pulled up a chair. He had the man's attention now. Banaboster put down the bills he was looking over and leaned back into the couch he was sitting in. The young mage that called him old, and the rest of the members of Twilight Ogre, all looked over at him. Things were about to get interesting.
"You'd be correct but..." Banaboster said as he pulled out a cigarette. "We don't accept just anybody here at Twilight Ogre. You have to show me that you're worth it." The man then pointed his cigarette at one of the mages. "Johan, why don't you do the honors?"
"Yes, thank you master Banaboster." The mage said before turning to Geralt, weapons at the ready. After a brief flash of light a large white bow appeared in his hands. The man then summoned a magical arrow, nocked it, and aimed it at Geralt's head.
"Beat Johan here and I'll think about letting you join us." Banaboster said before turning his attention back to his paperwork. Geralt rolled his eyes and took off his black cloak and swords. He didn't need his weapons, or magic for that matter, to beat this kid.
"He's quite cocky for a man his age. Take him down a peg or two Johan!" Yelled one of the onlooking mages. Geralt just stayed silent and stretched his arms. This would be over quickly.
"Okay, we'll fight on the count of three." The bow-wielding mage said as he pulled his arrow even further back. "One... two... three!" With reflexes as quick as a cheetah Geralt deflected the arrow and rushed towards the poor mage. The boy didn't even get the chance to scream before his gut was filled with the White Wolf's fist. Blood spurted forth from the mage's mouth as he collapsed to the ground; barely hanging onto life. The mage's comrades were quick to react, and hastened to bring their friend to the guild's infirmary. Banaboster and the rest of Twilight Ogre just stood there in silence. It was around this time that they noticed Geralt's eyes glowing from underneath his black hood.
"What magic does that to a person?" One of the sorceresses wondered out loud. Nobody could answer her question. And Geralt wasn't in the mood to give them the time to come up with one.
"Did I pass your test?" He asked Banaboster, who was just staring at him in shock. When the master of Twilight Ogre finally unfroze he leapt into the air. A powerful warrior just walked straight into his guild! If he played his cards right this could mark the beginning of his comeback against Sabertooth!
"Oh, of course you've passed!" Banaboster yelled in glee as he called for his guildhall's maid. "Get out the stamp! Twilight Ogre just got itself a new mage!" Cheers rumbled throughout the guildhall as Geralt found himself a spot to sit. By the time the maid returned with the stamp the mages were in full-on party mode.
"Where would you like your guild mark?" The maid asked him. Geralt stayed silent and rolled up his left sleeve.
"Just above the left bicep." He said, the maid nodded and proceeded to press the stamp onto his exposed flesh. It felt cold. When the process was finally over Geralt got up and turned to Banaboster. "Where's the job board?" He asked the man.
"Well aren't you impatient! Don't you want to greet your guild mates first?" Instead of answering him Geralt just walked up to the leather-bound job board and tore off a few pages. "You want those?!" Banaboster yelled when he saw what jobs Geralt had chosen. They were all monster hunting jobs. All of them exceedingly difficult, and all of them deadly.
"Is that a problem?" Geralt asked him. Banaboster shook his head. Before the master of Twilight Ogre could even begin to get a rebuttal in the White Wolf had left the building. "Roach!" Geralt yelled with an exceptionally loud whistle. His horse was quick to react, and within a matter of seconds he was off to his first job. My first client is... Geralt thought as he flipped through the papers. The Fioren military huh? Says here that they're having problems with vulcans. This world's monsters were certainly strange; they definitely gave mages some trouble, but they didn't seem too interested in killing humans. Are they just not fans of human flesh? That was a definite possibility, but it probably had to do with the amount of magic this world had. Monsters required less energy from food, so they hunted and killed less. At least that was his theory. Huh? What's this? Geralt lifted the paper up to his nose and sniffed it. The parchment smelled odd, whoever wrote the request definitely didn't use normal ink. In fact the moldy scent engraved on the paper smelt familiar. Just like... blood. Why was the job request written in blood? However, blood wasn't all he smelled. With a few more sniffs Geralt picked up traces of two other substances. Its extremely faint, but I can smell salt and rosemary. What in the world was going on?
Three Hours Later, Northwest Fiore...
The sprawling streets of Magnolia were now a distant memory in Geralt's mind. Ahead of him was a massive forest, at least forty to fifty miles across, that was crawling with wildlife. The blood-scented job request led him here, to this mysterious place. And even though he had yet to meet anyone from the Fioren military; he could already tell that something was horribly wrong. The scent of long-splattered blood encroached into his nostrils from the forest entrance. And he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was being watched. Where am I supposed to meet the client? He thought as he looked over the parchment. The northern grassland border? Now Geralt knew something was fishy. For the forest he was in had no such border; as bordering the forest to the north was a massive wall of ginormous mountains.
Normally he would assume this was a prank; some harmless wild goose chase. But that wasn't the case. After all, that wouldn't explain why the request was penned in blood. As if on cue the sun began to dip over the canopy of the trees. Causing a wave of shadow to rush over the White Wolf. The crickets in the area began to chirp, and the flies went silent. That was when everything started to get colder. In a matter of minutes the temperature unnaturally dropped well below freezing. On instinct Geralt drew his silver sword and hastily cast Quen. The invisible magical shield acted as a blanket, and helped to ward off the now-freezing chill of the forest's shadow. Geralt's eyes narrowed when he noticed a sheet of thin ice encroach slowly from the entrance of the forest. The icy sheen drew closer and closer; like a beast sneaking up on its prey, before finally reaching the clearing where Geralt was stood. Roach had already scampered off. Which was a good thing, as the animal would have surely frozen to death. Looks like the white frost. Geralt thought as he waded through the frozen brush, the iced-greenery cracking and crunching underneath his heavy footsteps.
But he knew this wasn't the white frost. For starters, it wasn't cold enough; secondly, the encroachment was much slower than the flash-freeze of the white frost. Nay, this was something created by man. One proficiently skilled in ice magic. Where are you little fox? Geralt closed his eyes and focused his senses. Immediately he was at one with the environment. The witcher could hear the crunch of flies landing on soft snow, the sweet scent of frozen roses, and the slightest changes in temperature. In this state it didn't take him long to discover his prey. Judging by the smell it was a man, just over twenty five, who hadn't bathed in a while. However, that wasn't all. The Butcher of Blavakin could also detect the subtle breaths of four other mages; each one hiding near the first. Bodyguards? Geralt closed his eyes and focused on the muted scent of the four other mages. Strawberries and soot... and the light scent of animal marrow. He opened his eyes, Geralt knew who these five people were. Assassins maybe? No... dark mages. He could tell from his position that these five were exceedingly strong mages. And judging by the state of the now-frozen forest; they prepared for his arrival in advance.
Also, it was strange how far away the rouge mages set up camp. Geralt's eyes widened when he realized what the dark mages were preparing for. Robin told him about famous mages called 'slayers'. These mages commanded magic that artificially altered their body to decimate certain creatures. Apparently these slayers, according to Robin, had superhuman senses. And judging by the way the five dark mages were situated; namely far away from him, their apparent target, they must have been preparing for a person with said superhuman senses. It was the little things that tipped Geralt off. The fact that they were downwind, the nearly undetectable scent of modified wolfsbane, which could be used to hide body odors, and the freezing of the forest. For people like slayers who, at their peak, had senses on the level of dragons. Preparations like this would have completely hidden the five dark mages. Honestly, it was a very good plan. They would wait till their target grew tired from the cold, and then ambush them. That explains why the job request was penned in scented blood. Geralt thought as he quietly cocked his crossbow. For whatever reason these five mages needed a slayer; so they tried to lure one in via a tasty-smelling job request. It was the exact same strategy used when trying to lure a bloodhound into a trap. Granted he had no idea why the dark mages needed such a mage; but he would have plenty of time to ask them once he was finished.
For even though these five were powerful mages; Geralt knew that nobody was immune to sharpened steel. With a muffled click Geralt raised his crossbow up into the air. And once he knew for certain that he was on target. Geralt pulled the trigger.
"How's our little slayer doing?" One of the dark sorceresses asked her comrade as she stared into their holographic lacrima. Displayed upon the tiny screen was a hooded man. The sorceress smiled, that idiot didn't even know what he walked into.
"Is the cold affecting him much?" The leader of their little band asked. Printed onto his, and the rest of the group's, hand was a simple stamp in the shape of a circle. It was their dark guild mark. The leader shuffled up to her and the other members of the guild and gazed into the lacrima. "Tch... he looks unfazed." The man growled as his feet crunched into the cold earth.
"This weather magic was specifically designed to zap magicians and slayers of their magical strength. How is he still standing?" The sorceress controlling the lacrima wondered out loud. One of their comrades shrugged and crushed a beetle in between his fingers.
"Who knows? Maybe that man isn't a slayer." The sorcerer said, but their leader wasn't having any of it.
"Impossible. The only way for someone to reach that part of the forest is via the blood-scent trail we left. A trail that only slayers can detect." The man said as he returned to his position behind a snow covered bush. "How's our prey doing?" He asked again. One of the sorceresses sighed and returned her vision to the lacrima.
"He's-" the sorceress didn't get the chance to finish before a crossbow bolt bore its way into her head; right between the eyes. Immediately the four other members of their dark guild shot up and activated their magic. None of them expected a surprise attack, after all, they should have been hidden by the wind. The leader of the guild took one second to glance back at the lacrima before another volley of bolts exploded forth from the forest.
"Get down!" He yelled, but it was already too late. One of their members managed to block the majority of the bolts; however, a few managed to get past. Normally this would have been fine; as the bolts only managed to scratch his comrade. But unluckily for him the tips of the bolts must have been lined with poison. And within a matter of seconds his comrade's veins began to turn black, and he collapsed to the ground dead.
"Where are we being attacked from?!" One of the sorceresses yelled as she shot an impressive volley of exploding fireballs into the forest. The sheer destruction caused by said fireballs was enough to give Natsu Dragneel himself a run for his money. However, all of that fancy and flashy magic didn't do anything to protect her. In the blink of an eye the sorceress's head was freed from her shoulders. And standing over corpse was a cloaked figure; they knew who it was, it was the man they were hunting.
"What are you idiots doing?!" The leader yelled to his comrades. "Hurry up and kill him!" His comrades nodded and immediately followed up with a volley of magic arrows. However, none of them managed to hit the man. As they were blocked by some sort of magical barrier. That doesn't look like slayer magic. The leader thought as he watched the magical shield shimmer before fading back into obscurity. In fact he'd never seen any magic like that before. There was no magic circles, no familiar buzz that told him that magic was being used, nothing.
"Hey man! I think we should fall back!" Yelled one of the archers, but it was too late. Yet again another one of them fell to the man's blades. Soon the only one left standing was the leader. The rest either had no head, or were filled full of crossbow bolts. The lonesome mage collapsed and tried to escape back into the forest; however, he found that he could not move.
"What?!" He screamed as he looked down to find a strange purple aura snagging at his feet. No matter how hard he pulled he could not escape. Every so often his eyes would dart back to the bag resting upon his belt. He could not afford to be stopped now, not when he was so close. But life was cruel.
"Does the contents of that bag really mean so much to you?" The leader of the dark guild turned to find the hooded man wander out of the brush. His steel blade still dripping with the fresh blood of his comrades. "Judging by your looks I doubt you're a warrior. An alchemist perhaps?" Instead of answering him the dark mage just tightened his grip around the bag. The hooded man then sighed and lifted up his crossbow. Since the leader's legs were bound he could not avoid the iron bolt. The metal tore through his left shoulder, causing it, and his precious bag to fall onto the frozen forest floor.
"Gah!" He screamed in pain as he crashed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His body was now completely enveloped in the purple aura, and his entire body felt immobile. The hooded man then proceeded to walk up to his disembodied arm and scooped up his bag. After a few moments of rummaging through the bag's contents, the man stopped. What he found was surprising...
A potion? Geralt wondered as he held the small glass vial up towards the sun. Sloshing inside of the glass container was a strange dark liquid. He then scanned over some of the documents that accompanied the potion, and his eyes went wide. This looks like... a mutagen. Granted, plenty of things were different from the ones he was familiar with; however, a multitude of aspects were definitely similar. He even recognized a few of the ingredients. Wolfsbane, a tablespoon of lye, a dash of sulfur, and... He cocked an eyebrow. Dragons blood? "What do you need dragons blood for?" He asked the dying leader of the dark guild. But the man stayed silent. Doesn't want to talk eh? A quick casting of Axii should solve that. "You're going to bleed out soon anyway. So tell me, what's with the potion? Why do you need dragons blood?" Geralt asked the man as he cast the glyph. The dark mage twitched in pani and confusion for a few moments, before finally falling under his spell.
"We wanted a way to counteract the power of slayers." The man mumbled out in a daze. "The previous guild I belonged to was decimated by just a single slayer. I think his name was Dragneel, or something like that..." Geralt snapped his fingers in front of the man's face when he noticed that the man was beginning to lose consciousness. He'd lost too much blood.
"Get back on track. How was this potion supposed to help you do this?" Geralt asked the man as he tied a torn piece of cloth around the dark mage's bleeding wound; it wouldn't save him, but it would give him more time to answer his questions.
"The potion was meant to restructure our magical bodies..." The dark mage started as he hacked up buckets of blood. He must've been caught by one of his crossbow bolts. "...It would allow us to absorb elemental magic. Just like the slayers... but we ran into a problem..." He took a deep breath, in all likelihood it would be his last. "To complete the potion we needed something to act as a base. We needed the magical power of a pure-blooded original slayer, the blood of a dragon... but dragons are in low supply..."
"So you decided to try the blood of a dragon slayer?" Geralt said. The man nodded.
"For the potion to work at full power you would need actual dragon's blood. But for our purposes... a slayer's blood would work fine. Granted, a slayer's blood would only allow each of us to absorb just one type of magic; but that would be more than enough..." After that the man's eyes began to sag. "Such a pity... we were so close..." And the man died.
Geralt sighed as he closed the man's eyelids. He hated when things like this happened. There was so much more he wanted to ask. And the worst part was that he had nothing to show for it! Not a single jewel! I guess I should loot their corpses. Geralt turned around and began to walk back to the main clearing; however, he stopped when he saw something glint in the cool-sunlight. This must be the potion he was talking about. He thought as he lifted the small vial up into the air; he must've dropped it when he was interrogating the dark mage. I wonder... Geralt thought as he popped the vial's cork off and raised it to his nose. Immediately he recoiled back. Smells absolutely horrid... just like a witchers potion...
The familiar stench must have peaked his curiosity. As just a few minutes later the White Wolf was busy searching through his satchels and bags for a very special item. It took him a while, but he eventually found it. The faded glass was foggy and covered with dirt, but it's contents remained untouched. It was the blood of Saesenthessis, the dragon-turned sorceress who attacked the summit in Loc Muinne. Geralt didn't know why he kept the blood, in fact he considered selling it. However, now he was happy he didn't. As careful as a surgeon the Buther of Blavakin peeled off the top from the wax-sealed vial. When it was safely off he then poured the dragon's blood into the dark mage's potion. Almost immediately there were affects, the potion began to sizzle and churn; slowly changing colors until it finally transformed into a beautiful shade of gold. Vesemir would say that I'm being too reckless. Geralt thought as he raised the vial to his lips. It might have been reckless, but it wasn't deadly. He poured through the dark mage's notes multiple times. None of the major ingredients would be toxic to him. Welp... bottoms up. And he drank the liquid.
Geralt rubbed his eyes as he stared into the stars of the night sky. It was the exact same sky that he had looked at when he first arrived in this world. However, he was far from the same. Ever since he drunk that potion a few hours ago everything had changed. Or more accurately, his eating habits had changed. For a start absolutely everything now was edible. It started out small. Rocks, trees, dirt, hell, even the air. But as time went on he found that he could devour even more things. He discovered that he could even eat fire after finding one of the, now destroyed, dark guild's old torches. If it had a hint of magic in it, he could absorb it. And while he didn't gain any amazing abilities from absorbing said elements. His witcher properties had improved exponentially. Geralt found that he was stronger, faster, more capable now than he ever was before. How strange... He thought as he breathed in deeply.
The most jarring change, besides the ability to eat almost anything magical, was the unbelievable enhancement to his senses. He could smell even the slightest variants of scents among the blowing wind. He could hear around him for miles and miles. And most crucially, he could almost feel the presence of living creatures. He had this ability before, fittingly dubbed 'witcher sense', but now it was amplified up a thousand fold. As he trotted closer and closer towards Magnolia this actually became somewhat annoying. He could hear flies buzzing through the city streets on the other end of town; and could smell the stench of the gutter from miles off. This is going to take some getting used to. Geralt thought as Roach finally made it to the edge of the cliff overlooking Magnolia. Immediately he noticed the plumes of smoke coming from Twilight Ogre's guildhall. From here the guildhall looked like a desolate war zone, but he didn't hear any battle cries. Looks like I missed the party. Geralt thought as he rushed to get to the guildhall. The onlooking citizens and the flashy shop signs became a blur as the White Wolf rocketed past the crowds. He arrived at the guildhall in just under fifteen minutes. I'll need to thank Robin somehow for that horse. He thought as he forced open the guildhall doors. The interior was absolutely trashed, injured guild members filled the tables of the hall. Each one wrapped head to toe in bandages. Seems like nobody died. He then turned to the back of the guildhall, where master Banaboster was sat. "What in the world happened here? Did one of your mages finally blow the place up?" Geralt asked the man.
"Who dare-" Banaboster started before realizing it was Geralt. "Oh. It's you. Well how did your first job as a Twilight Ogre mage go?" The man said as he blew out some smoke from his nose.
"Turned out to be a wild goose chase. The client even admitted it." Geralt lied as he pulled up a seat next to the distraught guild master. The man just sighed angrily and slammed the mug of alcohol he was drinking down onto the table.
"That's just great! First those barbaric fairies come and attack us in our own guild! Now we're getting fabricated job requests. Today's just not my day..." Banaboster mumbled as he flipped through a sky-high stack of repair bills.
"You couldn't handle some fairies? Just squash them. It's not that hard." Geralt said as he looked over the damaged guildhall. Banaboster just scoffed and tossed the bills aside.
"You sound like you talk from experience. And trust me, I wish I could. Those bastards have been at my throat ever since their prominent guild members suddenly came back from the dead." Banaboster sighed as he placed a hand on his forehead, he could feel a migraine coming on. "And now of all times, when we're just weeks away from the Grand Magic Games..." Geralt didn't know, nor care to know, what he meant by the 'Grand Magic Games', but the people who attacked the guild definitely raised his suspicions.
"These 'fairies' who attacked the guild, any idea where they're from?" Geralt asked Banaboster, who then looked at him like he was an entirely different person.
"Since when did you care about our guild's pride? You walked out of here for that job before you could even introduce yourself." Banaboster said as he glared at Geralt. The witcher then pointed to the stack of bills and turned back to Banaboster.
"Attacks like this lowers the guild's standing, which means less people will come here to post jobs, which means less coin in my pocket." Geralt said as he flipped through the massive stack of bills. Eventually he came to a familiar name... "Fairy Tail?" He mumbled.
"That's the guild that attacked us today. They have this crappy little shack on the edge of town. They're a small guild but they have some very powerful members." Banaboster gritted his teeth as he stared at Fairy Tail's guild symbol. "I've wanted to go and crush them, once in for all. But all of my most prominent wizards and sorceresses have already been defeated." The guild master then pinched the bridge of his nose and stared up at the ceiling. "God... if this continues then we really will be out of business." Banaboster mumbled as Geralt got up from his seat. "And just where do you think you're going? You need to help us rebuild!" He yelled, but Geralt paid him no heed. He had a date with fairies.
Author's Note
A tiny bit late but its here! I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! This one definitely was a pain to write. It's just one of those set up chapters that takes a while to get a grasp on; but I got it eventually. Geralt is on his way to talk to Fairy Tail. And he got a fancy new Dragon-Slayer esc power up!
For those of you wondering why I added that in is because; to do what I want to do with this story, Geralt needed an extra edge. So I gave him that edge. Plus, I really wanted to do something with that dragon he killed in the witcher 2(Granted he didn't HAVE to kill the dragon, that depends on the player's choices, but I'm rolling with it none the less.)Next chapter should be out during the first week of next month. Or earlier, it depends on where I am with my other stories.
But at the most, the next chapter will come out on the first week of November. Until then peace! And I wish you all a very spooky Halloween!
Please review! It means a lot! And rate as well... but mainly review(I love seeing that number go up :)).