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Signs of Destiny (The Witcher SI)
Thread starterMassgamer Start dateJan 15, 2020
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Advance toward the Future
Feb 19, 2020
#451
"Go away! Bolt not come back! Bolt bad troll! Leave or Bolt get mad and start smashing things." The sound of a large rock troll in severe emotional distress was accompanied by sonorous sobs and what sounded like someone drinking an entire bathtub dry. Given how much a troll could pack away, the chance of him using a repurposed wooden tub as an ale mug was actually pretty good.
...so that's what the alderman was talking about earlier. Oops.
I guess the group of disgruntled locals being served their midday beer outside and actually giving me approving nods as I went in the inn should have been a good clue.
"Alright, alright. I'll go Bolt." the middle aged man said with a long sigh as he turned and left the troll to continue his sad drinking binge in the corner of the inn. As he walked over he finally spotted me and his tired look suddenly became one of worry and concern. He quickly walked up to me with a desperate look in his eye.
"Please, Master Witcher, don't hurt Bolt! Just give me more time to convince him to leave peacefully! I'll pay you double, triple what those whoresons are offering you to kill him! Bolt isn't bad he's just upset right now." He practically begged me, which caused me to raise both my eyebrows in surprise at that.
"Relax, beyond the alderman asking to look into things no one has hired me to kill any troll, or Bolt. What is the issue anyhow? It looks like he's drinking away the inn's whole stock of ale all on his own." I asked curiously. I knew trolls could get depressed and go on drinking binges just like humans but it was strange to see it in person, seeing such a powerful being just… seem so vulnerable.
"Well there's a story there. When my grandfather was a young man he came across Bolt living in a cave not far from my family's farm, and somehow befriended the big lug. My grandfather even offered him work doing various odd jobs around the farm, he can do the work of tens of men easily and for hours on end so he has been invaluable. Been with us ever since and has helped make my family one of the most successful farms in the region. My father grew up with him, I grew up with him, my children are growing up with him, and despite what many feel about nonhumans we consider Bolt like family. However, a few days ago he accidentally killed one of my prized bulls. After that he just left and has been drinking himself sick ever since. I tried to tell him I know it wasn't on purpose but he hates himself for it and refuses to listen to me. Everyone is afraid of him due to his size and strength, I was afraid they would send someone to get rid of him and… no offense, but you are a Witcher. But he's harmless! If something happens to him not only would I be ruined since I can't run the farm without him but I could also never forgive myself for losing a friend." He explained, seemingly at the end of his rope and not knowing what to do.
"Hmmm, he hasn't done anything bad yet, right? What if I talked to him on your behalf? Make him see reason and go home before anything goes wrong, from him or others?" I offered, feeling rather sympathetic at the moment and because just seeing the troll cry into his drink was so depressing. I could see the light in the farmer's eyes come back brightly at my offer.
"You… you would? Thank you! Bolt the Bull Carrier came by his name honestly and I would hate for him to hurt anyone or for them to hurt him. He's strong-willed and stubborn, though if you speak softly you should be able to convince him. I'll even reward you for your efforts if you can convince him. I'll be talking with the innkeeper to make sure everything is alright. Thank you again." he says before walking over to the presumed innkeeper.
"Aww, such a kind heart you have Markus." Ivar couldn't help but comment with a smile.
"Shut up, Ivar. Let me handle this since the big guy doesn't seem in most talkative mood right now. Take Dogmeat and find me the local bard that is supposed to hang out here. He wasn't outside so I assume he's in a room or something. We still have our mission of putting the specters to rest after all and you need to learn that song to make it so we can do it." I pointed out.
"Right away! I'm sure I can converse with this Bolt after you have calmed him anyhow." Ivar says as he picks up Dogmeat and walks off.
Alright then, time for diplomacy… but just in case I activate Quen again since the last thing I want is to be hit by a drunk rock troll.
Walking up to him Bolt certainly strikes an imposing figure, even hunched over slightly he is still easily over half my size in height alone to say nothing of his girth that is pure muscle. He was wearing an over-sized poncho that looked to be made from a whole tanned cowhide, but I guess for a troll doesn't feel uncomfortable at all, which I am thankful since I was in no mood to see troll junk. There were rocky growths all over his form with his back looking like half of a boulder in truth. Despite his large teeth sticking out of his mouth it was hard to see him as intimidating what with the fresh tears going down his face as he drank out of a wooden bucket, not the tub like I thought.
"Go away! Bolt no want talk with you!" Bolt demanded and waved one of his long arms towards me. It was a good thing I kept about five feet away so he didn't smack me by accident.
"Your boss wanted me to talk to you." I said to get his attention.
"Bossyman sent you? … Wait, you Witchyman, yes? Come to kill Bolt? Good, Bolt is bad troll and killsy he deserves. Bolt kill bull, Bolt bad." Bolt said while sobbing.
"That depends, why don't you tell me what happened and then I decide if you deserve it." I offered, trying to get the story from his point of view and see if I couldn't convince him to go home peacefully.
"Bolt work farm for Bossyman and small bossies. Dig ground, carry fings, all kinds. Bolt love carrying bulls most. Bolt make friends with bulls, would play lots. Bolt throw bull in air and catch, bull loves it most…. But one day Bolt throw bull up and not catch. Bull fall and hit head… bull now dead. Bolt kill friend, that why Bolt is bad. Bolt not want live, so Bolt drink lots to not think… it not work." Bolt said as he took another large drink of his bucket.
Damn, this is really hitting him hard. I always liked the trolls from the Witcher games, the ones that weren't hostile were always fun to talk to and were honest to a fault. You could almost always find some way to reason with them and deep down I felt they weren't bad, they just didn't always think things through. This was no different.
"It sounds like you loved bull a lot and didn't mean to hurt him. It was an accident Bolt. Your boss wants you home and drinking here doesn't solve anything."
"No! Bolt no go back! Bolt kill friend bull, and brothers and sisters bull will hate Bolt. Bolt too strong and not gentle, no want to kill more friends. No want to hurt Bossyman and little bossies, Bolt loves them. Bolt promised to always do best to be good… broke promise and now no get to be happy." Bolt refused a little angirly.
Okay, time to change tactics since this guy obviously is in no mood to forgive himself… guilt trip?
"Fine, doesn't matter to me one way or the other. Though you should know if you don't come back that your boss will lose the farm, little bossies will go hungry, and all bull's brothers and sisters will be separated. Do you want that, Bolt? Your family being broken up because of you?" I asked.
"Wha, no! Bolt no want that! Bolt love farm, warm and soft. Not like cave at all… but how Bolt go back? Bolt bad troll, bad troll no be happy." Bolt asked desperately.
"We all make mistakes, Bolt. The important thing is that we work hard to make up for those mistakes and do the best we can to be better. Your boss needs you and you need him and the farm. Dying won't fix anything, that is the worst way you can repay bull." I stated seriously. When it comes it trolls it was important to follow their logic and then use it against them so they understood.
"You… Witchyman right! Boss need Bolt, hows Boss to give bulls bath without Bolt? Bolt go back, for bull." Bolt nodded and then finally put down his bucket. I smiled and nodded back to him.
"I'm sure he will be happy to hear that."
As we walked over to the innkeeper and farmer together I was proven right.
"Bolt sorry, Bossyman. Bolt come back. Bolt being sad won't make bull not dead. Make bull sad and Bolt no want that." Bolt apologized to his employer.
"Oh, don't worry about it you big lug. I'm just happy you've seen reason. I know everyone will be happy to have you back." the farmer said as he actually went up and hugged the big troll, something which Bolt returned with a surprising amount of gentleness.
"Thanks Witcher, troll might have been a good customer but he was scaring off lots of my regulars. Business can finally go back to normal, though I will need to restock my cellar sooner than expected. I'm just happy the troll's keeper paid his tab." the husky innkeeper stated to me, but by the way he didn't look me in the eye I figured he wasn't totally happy to thank me.
Ehh, I would take what I could get.
"Thank you as well Witcher, here's 100 crowns for the trouble. It's well worth the price after getting my best worker and friend back." the farmer said as he handed me a coin purse, one which might require me to visit the bank when added to the tower reward later. "Come on Bolt, let's go home. The wife's sure to make the stew you like so much."
"Bolt coming. Bolt go home with Bossyman."
"Well, I'm sorry to say that no one is going anywhere right now." A new voice said and I turned towards the inn door to see over a dozen well armed and armored men walk through, all barring their weapons out at the ready. The looks on their faces and the way they stood told me everything, they were ready for a fight. In other words, trouble.
"What… what do you want?" the farmer asked in confusion and fear.
"Been hearing things about a troll disturbing the peace and thought it would be our civic duty to handle it since the guards and Order don't want to. Reward would be a nice touch as well and I know more than a few who would pay a lot of coin for troll bits." the leader of what I assumed to be mercenaries stated while idly picking at his warhammer. He had a large scar over one eye and was wearing a heavier set of medium looking armor, not totally unlike my own.
"But-but Bolt hasn't done anything! The guards and the Order only said they would get involved if he broke any laws! He's leaving peacefully now so there is no reason to do anything! I don't know what those assholes outside told you-" the farmer started to rant before the merc leader interrupted him.
"Oh, it's not just that. Seems like a rival of yours sees this as a great chance to remove some competition. It's a damn shame really… your pet troll kills you and the poor residents of this inn, we only came in time to put the mad beast down. Such a pity, isn't it?" he finished with a cruel smirk and around him his fellows chuckled as two stood by the door.
Oh, it's like that now, is it? Why would I expect anything else?
"You really don't want to do that. I assume you don't stay long in the mercenary game by being stupid, right? Do the smart thing and walk away." I warned.
"Is that so, Witcher? And why would I care about what a mutant freak like you thinks? Besides, we are doing your job for you since obviously you couldn't hack it by yourself." was the response.
"I'm not about to let you kill anyone here just cause your employer told you to." I growled, hating these kind of people who killed innocents for money.
"Oh yeah, and you plan to stop us?" he challenged.
"Yes, and I'm sure my new friend Bolt here would be very much against you hurting his boss." I stated.
On que Bolt banged his fists hard into the inn floor, causing it to splinter in the process.
"Mensy no hurt Bossyman! Leave or Bolt smash!" Bolt roared out.
At that the mercs actually paused for a moment, most looking towards their boss who had a thoughtful look on his face. He glanced at a heavy-set man who seemed to be his lieutenant. A conversation passed between them at a glance, then the leader looked back at me and Bolt.
"Well… it seems like we're at an impasse. Alright then, you win this round freak. Me and my lads will be on our merry way for now, but you should watch yourself in the future. Even Witchers need to sleep. Let's go!" the merc leader shouted to his men and I watched wearily as they all filed out of the inn one by one, throwing me and Bolt dirty looks all the way until the door finally shut.
"Jeez, what did I just step in?" I muttered to myself as I felt my muscles uncoil.
"Bolt and Witcheyman tellsa them!" Bolt happily stated.
"Yeah, we sure did. Any idea what that was about?" I directed my question towards Bolt's boss who seemed to be working to get his own breathing back under control. He could only give a sad shake of his head.
"Unfortunately, when you are the most successful farmer in the region and own some of the largest and best lands there are plenty who envy that fact. Wouldn't put it past a few of my rivals to find a way to kill Bolt since he's one of the biggest parts of why my family is so successful; killing me would be a bonus. Whoresons could have even gotten their coin together for that lot. If you don't mind Master Witcher, I want to get me and Bolt home as soon as possible, gonna let the town guard know before we leave though. Spending any more time here is not good for my nerves." he said with a lopsided grin.
"And I would like it if you all left and never came back to my inn, nothing personal but…" the innkeeper said while getting out from hiding beneath his counter.
"No, no, that's fair. No reason for me to come back if all goes well anyhow." I reassured him, not his fault mercs came in apparently quite willingly to kill him just as well.
"Markus! I am glad to report that!... Did I miss something?" Ivar said suddenly behind us, causing both the farmer and innkeeper to jump a bit.
"Bolt and Witcheyman talksa about bull and bossies, humsies comes to fightsa us, but wes makes thems fuckh off. Nows we'sal goes." Bolt happily informed the scholar, who cocked his head slightly to the side just like Dogmeat to process that.
"... I totally understand." Ivar said with a thumbs up.
Did he really? Not sure which is more worrying.
Honestly I was ready to just head back to the tower since dealing with mad wraiths was sadly becoming safer.
435
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Feb 19, 2020
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Advance toward the Future
Feb 28, 2020
#476
"Alright then, you sure you think you got the song down? It's only the afternoon and we can wait as late as the day after tomorrow to make sure you got this down." I asked.
"I appreciate your concern Markus but I assure you that I am quite ready. I paid the bard to write down the lyrics and double checked them myself to make sure they lined up correctly. It is a relatively simple yet emotional ballad of a hero helping to defend the helpless against a mad horde only to be struck down in process, held in the arms of his lover as his daughter arrives too late to save him. Just reading it struck an emotional chord within me and I am ashamed I have only heard of it in truth now! If this does not stir the unearthly soul then nothing will!" Ivar said with conviction and no small amount of praise for the creator of said ballad. Dandelion certainly has fans all over the Continent I suppose.
Still, even back at the tower within the relative safety of the local Order of the Flaming Rose chapter (and doesn't thinking that still throw me in for a loop), those mercs had spooked me a bit. Not so much for who they were but what they could be… did I make a mistake in letting a obviously hostile group go just so they can possibly attack me later? Did I put myself, Ivar, Dogmeat, Bolt, the farmer, and even the innkeeper in unnecessary harm's way by doing nothing like that? I try not to do things that make me question myself and dislike violence when it can be avoided, but did I simply delay it?
On the other hand, what could I have done? This wasn't the games; while Game!Geralt might get away with massacring people by the dozens in Novigrad without blowback, even if I did manage to kill them all - not that I wanted to slaughter a dozen-plus people even if they asked for it- all it would do is cement the terrible reputation Witchers had in Blaviken due to Geralt's actions all those years ago on a new generation. And I didn't have the power to use Axii on the whole lot of them, while using it on just a few would have been noticed by the rest and no doubt lead to the very conflict I was trying to avoid. The best I could do was act tough and make it seem like I wasn't worth it.
Well, the giant drunk and formerly depressed rock troll may have helped. Maybe. (Hey, I had my pride!)
Enough wallowing, there were spectors that needed singing to.
"Alright, you know the drill. You come with me, you stay close and listen to exactly what I say. This is important business and sadly most of the spectors are not the talkative type. We go in, we do this, hope it works, and work from there. Got it?" I must have stated for the fifth time.
"Absolutely!" Ivar nodded, though he still had an excited glint in his eye. He could keep it as long as he followed through on his duties.
I had prepared him the best I could by dipping some of the ammo for his sling in specter oil and, in an emergency, I could Sign a Quen in a dome form large enough for both of us, though that wouldn't last long since it was stretching the limits of basic magic. It might stand up to a handful of blows, at most, but that would give Ivar an edge for survival he otherwise lacked. I even gave him a few Yrden discs to hold and even fling if needed, thankfully as long as I carved them I could activate the Sign whenever I was within a certain range.
"I wish you luck on this endeavor, should you succeed you will have done what the Order could not for many years and for that alone you will have earned my respect." Roland said to the side as his knights were unbarring door once more, hopefully for the second to last time.
"Gonna need it. Mind watching Dogmeat while we are in there?" I asked while gesturing to the puppy currently pissing on the side of the tower. Egh, not like anyone cares.
"I shall without issue, a hound is a valuable companion after all. I remember my younger years when I would hunt with my father and several of our own…" Roland started to say but I just walked past him when the doors were totally open, I've never been much of a people person. He noticed as well and quickly coughed in embarrassment as me and Ivar headed inside.
Darkness enveloped us as the doors closed behind us.
"Ah! Markus! I can't see!" Ivar shouted in alarm.
Oh yeah, I was using Cat and he wasn't. That was an oversight on my part.
--
"I must say, while the illusions are disturbing at least they give off a faint glow. Are you sure they are not specters themselves?" Ivar asked while holding his hand, leading him deeper into the tower. I didn't think to bring torches so I was reduced to making sure he didn't get lost.
"I'm sure, in fact none of the usual ones have showed up yet. Guess their boss is keeping her side of the bargain… or holding them back till we are in front of her to jump us if we don't deliver." I realized myself.
Walking past crumpling illusions and through dilapidated hallways found us quickly towards the laboratory where Renfri's corpse remained. There wasn't any activity when we entered and as we got closer to it Ivar could clearly see enough in the low-light to get excited about seeing the possible anchor point of this particular wraith. Before he could do anything stupid like pick at her bones the room lit up.
First came Renfri's band, all at once they appeared and surrounded us. Their spectral weapons were not drawn and the specters themselves stood in a relaxed posture so I didn't think we were in any danger… for now at least. With the light they provided from their very beings I saw Ivar contain himself at their sight, but also a little fear as well at their sudden appearance.
Good to see he hasn't totally lost his survival instincts at least.
"You return, Witcher. Where is my proof of the deaths of those who damned me?! And who is this?!" Renfri sneered as she made her appearance known right by her bones, looking no better physically or emotionally than when I first saw her.
"Ivar Holien of the University of Lan Exeter, at your service milady. I am your proof, or at least a medium by which to express it." Ivar said with a surprising amount of respect and decorum to someone from whom most would likely run screaming.
"And how is that, scholar? Do you carry their hearts among your books and quills? I fail to see how else you will give me reason to think them dead." Renfri said, doubt dripping from her tone.
"Because I carry ballads of historic events made by one of the finest bards of our era, a man who while might stretch the truth as all bards do but never omits it. Tell me, who do you wish to hear of first, milady?" Ivar said in total seriousness.
Okay, it was the moment of truth. Would she take it?
"I… want to hear of the man who damned me first and ruined my life with a few pretty words. I want to know what became of Stregobor." Renfri finally said, to which Ivar nodded and cleared his throat before he finally let loose.
"On the isle of Thanedd sorcerer and sorceress met,
only to find betrayal and death.
Brotherhood broken by the Sun and the North,
undoing faith and ending men's breath.
Magic flew through the air seeking to strike down all…"
And for the next few minutes it continued like that. Ivar's surprisingly dulcet tones retold the tale of how not long ago the Brotherhood of Sorcerers met together and turned on each other between two political factions. It must have been some battle with all the magic being flung around between powerful mages, the kinda shit that I'm sure should have sunk the island it was happening on. It was also a nice reminder not to be in a room that had more than a handful of mages in it if I could help it. (How did Terry Pratchett put it? The plural for 'wizard' is 'war'.)
Throughout it all Renfri was quiet, focused entirely on the song, and even the other wraiths seemed transfixed.
As the song came to an end, stating how it led to the creation of the Lodge of Sorceresses, Renfri had this… drained yet defiant look on her face.
"That… that proves nothing! It says nothing of Stregobor's fate or if he was even there!" Renfri denied, and she technically wasn't wrong. However, I wanted to shake that belief.
"Practically all the mages of note in the North were there when the coup happened and even you can't deny that Stregobor had influence enough to count among them. The battle that followed was so fierce that many mages, even some of the oldest and most powerful, lost their lives. There has been no news about Stregobor since the coup gracing the court of any noble or king, which he would need in order to keep up the expensive lifestyle nearly all mages have. I have heard nothing of him in his native Kovir and Poviss as well. All this evidence either points to Stregobor as either having gone to ground so completely he has erased himself from the world or he is dead. What do you think is more likely?" I asked.
Renfri paused… before a look of peace came over her features.
I watched transfixed as her body just changed.
The y-shaped incision on her chest sealed up, the missing parts of her body were restored, and in general she looked much more human in appearance than she had before. The only things that remained were the injuries that Geralt had inflicted, but compared to earlier, what stood before me was not a mutilated ghost but a semi-normal woman. She looked both me and Ivar straight in the eyes and I swear I saw tears despite that I knew for a fact that shouldn't be physically possible.
"He's… he's finally gone. After years of hunting me, hurting me, of telling everyone I was a monster that was going to destroy everything, driving everyone away from me, claiming his prize and humiliating me even more in death… he is finally gone. I hope he suffered and his soul burns in hell." Renfri finished.
I have to admit, I felt for her. While she was certainly a bad person willing to do bad things in life it was a product of her terrible upbringing from the day she was born. Being seen as a monster that was going to bring the end of days and simply wanting to take back something in a life she had little to no control over. That did not excuse her actions but it did make them understandable.
I honestly couldn't feel any pity for Stregebor anyhow, the man made the prophecy self-fulfilling with his actions in the end after all.
"I didn't know him personally, but I agree that it couldn't have happened to a better guy." I said simply.
"Indeed, if even half of what Markus told me of his deeds he casts shame on all scholars." Ivar said with restrained fury. Seems like a scholar abusing others for the sake of their research was his berserk button. "Would you like to hear the next ballad, milady?" he offered her.
"Yes, please." was her simple response. Ivar cleared his throat once more and began.
"Of the White Wolf you've heard,
Of his triumphs you know,
But in Rivia's lands,
At last his blood did flow.
From eyes filled with sheer hate,
And lips flowing with bile,
Against them he stood tall,
On his face was a smile.
His steel sword swung a-pace…"
And just like before the song continued for a bit. With aplomb, Ivar told the heroic tale of how Geralt of Rivia fell defending the innocent and friends alike from a mad mob seeking to slay all those they hated for the stupidest of reasons. How his lover tried to save him with her magic but could not and how Ciri, his daughter in all but blood, arrived too late to help. I was always curious personally how Geralt of all people fell against a mob of all things with his skill and his friends by his side.
There were likely tons of factors I wasn't aware of, like why didn't Quen protect him, or why he didn't use a potion, where were Yennefer, Triss, Zoltan, and even Dandelion in all this? Surely no mere mob could have gotten past all of them… It just sounds super fishy no matter how you look at it.
I either blame Destiny, some cabal of mages, Nilfgaard, or even the King of the Wild Hunt for some shady shit in all this honestly.
Focus on the ghost lady Markus, you can mentally rant later.
A series of expressions passed over Renfri's face, almost too fast for me to decipher. Almost. Satisfaction, confusion, rage… regret?
As all this happened I watched as, like with their boss, Geralt's killing strikes on Renfri's band disappeared before each one started to wink out of existence one by one until only the woman in question remained. I watched as her own did as well and if it wasn't for her glowly and translucent nature she would look like any other attractive woman. Her face also held none of the rage of before, all that was left as relief and exhaustion. The weight that bound her to the world lifted after so long.
"Such a surprise, he sounded much different than when I knew him in life. I could never imagine Geralt of all people going out to save strangers and have those mourning him when he passed. I always regretted we had to be enemies… but now I regret that I wanted him dead so badly when unlike Stregobor he never truly was a bad man. Now that they are both gone I feel relief, but also strangely hollow. I suppose that is to be expected, victory never truly being as sweet as people say." Renfri smiled a little sadly. "And I don't know what happens from here… do you Witcher, Markus?"
"Sorry, not even we Witchers really know what happens after death. I have theories… but no real proof that would satisfy. Just… try to think of it as the next great adventure, and hopefully it will be a better one than the last." I said kindly.
Renfri smirked, and for a moment I could see the spirited beauty that could have had a country at her feet. She might have even been a great ruler that her people loved and brought something amazing to the world. Hopefully she gets another chance somehow. "Sadly, that won't be a high bar to pass. But even so - thank you...Witcher…for everything."
At those last words the spirit of Renfri, a daughter of the Black Sun, finally passed from this world in a cloud of light that dispersed into nothingness.
Ivar and I just stood there for a couple of moments, really absorbing what we had accomplished that day. This honestly wasn't for Blaviken in the end, but something much more. The soul of a girl who could finally find peace when all her life she had none.
"Markus, I must say that what we did here this day was… Markus? Are you… crying?" Ivar said in surprise as I quickly turned away and wiped at the water leaking from my face.
"Naw, must be a side effect of being a Witcher, don't worry about it. Come on, we have bones to collect to give a proper burial, a tower to deem clean, and pay to collect. I've had enough excitement for one day." I quickly changed topics and focused on something else or I would start ugly crying like I am prone to do during really emotional moments.
I can't ruin the Witcher reputation that much after all, if I ran into any of them then they would never let me hear the end of it.
"Ha! Of course my friend, I believe I will have much to write about this day… and I promise to not go over too many details." Ivar said with a smirk as he followed me.
"You'd better." I muttered.
I was allowed to be immature sometimes, sue me.
--
Spoiler: A.N.
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Feb 28, 2020
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Advance toward the Future
Mar 7, 2020
#498
I watched as, after a couple hours waiting around within the Flaming Rose's little tent barracks next to the tower, the elderly priest and his escort of four knights finally exited the tower, checking over me and Ivar's work to make sure the specters were well and truly gone. I actually wasn't upset about them double checking since they have tried to remove Renfri and her gang for years and they always came back, then I stroll in and apparently get rid of them in a day? They wanted to cover their bases.
I could even respect it if I wasn't constantly watching for them to stab me in the back at any moment because I knew who their leader was, which might be overly paranoid or just the right amount.
I was near certain the priest himself was a mage who believed his powers were god given or something along those lines since I doubt any regular priest not well-trained in dealing with spirits would know what to look for. The Order certainly wasn't against mages since their Grandmaster was one after all. Despite being a mage he was certainly old looking, something which might have been a choice, what with his long greying beard going down to his chest, the flowing red robes showing how he was part of the clergy of the Eternal Fire, and even walking with a slight hunch in his back. It also helped that when I was closer to him earlier my amulet was vibrating enough to confirm my suspicions.
I saw Roland go up to speak to him and I took that as my cue to get up from my game of chess with Ivar which the Order had on hand and walk over, him and Dogmeat following along shortly after.
Both Roland and the priest saw me coming and acknowledged my presence.
"Ah yes, the Witcher… Ser Roland, I have been able to confirm after extensive study and ceremonies that the tower has indeed been purified of the spectral presence that had infested it. May the troubled souls finally find peace in the embrace of the Eternal Fire." the priest paused to give a silent prayer, something which Roland followed along and I did as well. I may not be religious and I certainly don't respect the Eternal Fire, but I could pray that those souls would finally be given peace after so long.
"I must admit I was very skeptical when the mutant claimed he did what our Order could not… but it is a sin to not admit it has happened one way or another. The people of Blaviken will no longer have to fear this tower nor what is within it and that is all that matters in the end. I shall return later to recover the remains within so they might be properly cremated. For now, I must return to the temple and tend to my folk. I can only leave my acolytes in charge for so long."
"Of course, your holiness. Thank you for coming on such short notice." Roland thanked him with a bow.
"But of course, a knight of your standing could not simply trust the world of the unclean after all, no matter how… well meaning." the priest sneered at me before taking his leave with an escort of two knights back to his temple and his followers.
Yeah, there were good reasons why I didn't like the Eternal Fire even beyond what I knew was canon from the games.
"While I have decent respect for the gods as the next man I feel as if they could choose their voices better." Ivar couldn't help but quip.
I appreciate voicing the thought Ivar but maybe not in front of the heavily armed followers of said priest.
"His holiness is a good man, though I admit quite traditional in many things. Still, you have done good work this day Master Witcher, and that deserves praise and rewards in equal measure. I will accompany you personally to report to the alderman of your success… and since I have you here maybe even give you another task should you want it." Roland offered.
"Thanks, but I think I'm just going to wait on my ship till we sail out soon rather than take anymore jobs." I turned down politely.
"I understand, but in fact what I am offering you is directly related to your travel plans. You see, with the tower now successfully cleared of harmful spirits the main task of our chapter here is complete. We must report this success to our headquarters, the Castle of Barienmurg within the lands the Order directly holds, so that they can decide what our next orders are to be. After all, we cannot be content to rest on our laurels when there remains much work to be done in the world and we are no longer needed here in such numbers. Ivar here tells me that you are on a ship south that will stop by Roggeven, the castle-city next to the lands of the Order, and that is where you come in. You only need to hand the message off to our brothers there and they will deliver it the rest of the way. We could do it ourselves but it would take much too long by horse and yours is the only ship in harbor heading that way swiftly. It should be a very simple job for one of your skills after all." Roland explained.
Oooooh boy. I mean, I knew we would be stopping by port that was basically next to Order central, but I had planned to hide on ship the whole time to avoid trouble since I figured that would be safest. I could turn it down… but I feel like turning down such an easy job might bring more attention to me once the message does make it back to Order proper. Fucked if I do, fucked if I don't. It was just deciding how hard I would be fucked out of the options.
Aww hell, I was already on the Order's radar by being a Witcher and this event. I might as well go along with it but at the same time not overstay my welcome, gold was gold in the end as well.
Besides, I was from the Griffin School and they believe they can only get Witcher secrets from Kaer Morhen. From their eyes I was less useful than grabbing a Wolf Witcher like they did in canon, at least I hoped so.
"Well, assuming I am being paid I have no issue in taking up the job." I answered.
"But of course, 100 crowns now and another on completion of the delivery." Roland offered.
"Deal. Though I have to say that is a lot for being a messenger." I pointed out.
"You have done good service for the Order for exorcising the specters from this tower and are carrying an official correspondence, it is the least we can offer." Roland stated.
"Well, I can't say no to that. Will need to let the captain know of course since he will be carrying some important cargo but it shouldn't be an issue. Now, let's tell the Alderman that the tower is finally open for the next mage that wants to move in."
Roland nodded and we made our way back to the house with the woman who stuck a crossbow in my face.
I was going to use Quen beforehand just in case. I would leave it on all the time if I could.
--
"... so other than the decaying magical illusions the tower is clear of any lingering vengeful spirits. You can now sell it off to any mage or other person who wants it and no longer have to deal with morons getting themselves killed trying to sneak in to loot the place, not that there was much in there to begin with. All in all, I think I earned my pay." I finished my personal report as Roland backed up everything I said to the alderman.
"Thank the gods. I wasn't sure if you could really pull it off, but I guess you Witchers aren't known as monster slayers for nothing. I will go and collect your coin." the alderman said in gratitude before moving deeper into the house.
"Awww, I can see why you Witchers love your work so much! Not only do you get to travel far and encounter so many amazing creatures but you are praised and paid for your work! It must be quite the life." Ivar said with a smile.
'It is… if you like being hated for what you are, constantly diving in danger headfirst, and most of the time living day to day with what little you can earn. Most Witcher work is underpaid for the jobs involved and I've been lucky finding really good work. You'll see, as we travel more it gets a lot less rewarding." I said with a gruff tone.
"Nevertheless, your deeds will put this city and it's fine people at ease. That is a reward enough for a knight." Roland said.
"He ain't no knight. He's a Witcher." the voice lanced in anger said from the other side of the room. We turned to see Marilka glaring daggers at me, seemingly wishing she could kill me with a look. "They are nothing but cold-blooded emotionless killers who will butcher anyone just because they can. He's no different from the last one that visited this city and my fool of a husband should never have hired him on to do anything. We're lucky he didn't unleash the wraiths on us or some other terrible thing." she practically hissed.
Sigh, I was so not in the mood for this at all. I just wanted to… was it worth it? Was it? Probably not… but it would make me feel better since I've been bottling shit since I got here and I wanted to let at least a little of it out.
"Milady, I do not know of your grief with the Witcher but we-" Roland tried to say before I just held a hand up to him and walked forward to Marilka. She just stared up defiantly at me, as if daring me to take a swing at her or something. I did something way worse.
"I'm sorry, you must have been really scared that day. Having Renfri's band gather you and all the other people up in front of the tower and saying how she would kill all of you if that prick in there didn't come out, even worse when he said he had no intention to. Then a Witcher comes by and easily cut all them down with such speed and efficiency it just scared you even more. Seeing this white-haired cat-eyed man so effortlessly kill these battle-hardened men that despite their small size took so many people hostage.
You just wanted the source of all this fear to go away, so you and everyone else threw insults, rocks and all manner of things at him until he left. But he left too easily. You most likely though, 'why did this man leave with no argument, was he planning something, would he come back in the night to take me away like the stories say or worse?'" I said with as much kindness and empathy as I could muster.
I don't think she was expecting any of that, what with the way her mouth just opened and closed in shock. Nothing came out besides a few small uncertain sounds. I took that as my que to keep going.
"I get it, you were scared of this man you talked with with no fear at first. You wanted it, him, to go away and so clung onto the bad stories and rumors that just fed it. I wasn't there personally, but I'm pretty sure he wanted to save you from Renfri and her band. We Witchers aren't the most social types so when we are not wanted we tend just to move on rather than defend ourselves, makes it so it is very easy for people to make up things about us since we don't do anything to dissuade it most of the time.
I can't change your mind or anything, not trying to, but do you really want to live with that hate and fear forever? Even Renfri, the specter we removed from the tower if you didn't know, felt regret in the end regarding the Witcher you met and he was the one that killed her. If she could let go and move on I know you can. I'm not asking you to love Witchers, just give us a chance to do our job since we were literally made to make the lives of the common folk easier. That's all I wanted to say, you can take it or leave it." I finished.
I wasn't much to scream and yell even in my old life; I could only give my honest thoughts and let people do with it what they will. I couldn't alter people's minds, all I could do was try to convince them to expand their own a little.
Marilka gaped at me, an expression mirrored by Roland and Ivar, albeit for different reasons. Her mouth worked as she tried to think of a response; abruptly, she spun on her heel and marched out of the room, her back stiff.
"Huh. She reacted much better than I thought she would," said her husband, having apparently walked back in after I began my little speech, heavy coin pouch in hand.
I turned to look at the man. "Really?"
He nodded. "My wife's got a temper, in case you didn't notice. Reacting like that, tells me she's going to stop and think about what you said, but I didn't trust herself to react appropriately. How you knew all of that, I have no idea, but if it encourages her to ease up on her attitude towards Witchers who want to deal with things we can't, it'll be worth it."
"Shame that the next time a Witcher comes by will likely be awhile, we are an endangered species after all." I couldn't help but darkly joke.
--
After that we left the Alderman's house and made our way back to the docks, the day now nearing its end with the sun dipping past the horizon. Stars appeared in the sky in much greater numbers than back home.
It had been a very eventful day and I was actually looking forward to spending what few days on the ship being bored and relaxing since I was sure Destiny would not let me keep at it for long.
Despite being a city in its own right most folk were either home for the day or most likely at local taverns drinking their money away so the streets were pretty quiet all told. I just walked along in silence as Roland and Ivar conversed with each other, about their experience growing up apparently, while I held Dogmeat who seemed quite tired from walking around a lot today. Puppies needed rest just as much as exercise after all, which reminded me I should walk Griffin a bit when we get back as well.
I was broken out of my mental musings as Roland spoke up.
"That's odd, where are the gate guards? The sun may have waned but that is no excuse for no one being posted. I shall be having words with the watch captain over this." Roland noted gruffly as I followed his gaze.
He was right, the eastern gate out of the city was seemingly abandoned and locked up, which was weird since it led to docks which despite the time of day would still have sailors and other people coming in and out. It's as if the guards decided to quit en mass and just lock the door behind them.
Before I could respond to that, my Witcher hearing suddenly picked up the sounds of a lot of armored feet moving around us. "We got company." I said ominously as I put down a confused Dogmeat and drew my steel sword.
At my words all around us, from back alleys, side doors, and even the damned guardhouse sitting next to the gate came out well armed and armored people who did not look friendly at all. There were about two dozen of them, all wearing a mismatch of armor but not below chain mail at least and holding some basic steel weapons, I even saw a few with crossbows among them. They didn't move like soldiers, but certainly professional enough not to be common cutthroats which left…
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here boys. A scholar, a knight, a dog, and a mutt. Seems like the start of a really bad jest, and I don't know about you all but I'm not laughing." A familiar voice cut through the air and I watched as out of the guardhouse came the merc leader from earlier, looking much more confident than before.
"What is this? What do you brigands hope to achieve here against a knight of the Order of the Flaming Rose and it's official business?" Roland challenged as he drew his own sword, no doubt expecting a fight as well.
"Oh, I'm sorry 'Ser', we're just doing the work of purging filthy nonhumans you and yours are too stupid to do yourself. In fact, I say it's a might traitorous to be even talking with 'em. You see, the Witcher here done slighted me in front of my own men, made me look craven. As a honest mercenary I got a reputation to keep up so I can't really let that slide so I've gathered my boys here to teach a well-deserved lesson before we deal with our original contract involving that stupid troll later. This city is no friend to Witchers so I barely had to bribe the guards to 'take a break' while we covered their watch for 'em. I knew the freak would come through here at some point since I learned he came by boat and no inn was likely to take him.
Once we are through with you mutant I figure we can cut you up and sell your bits off to any one interested for some good coins, lots of people want to know how Witchers tick after all. After that we are paying that farm a visit to kill the troll and the whoreson and his family for befriending the beast, think we'd get extra out of it. As for the rest of you… well I'm sure ser knight's armor will find a good price to the right fence and the scholar will be fun to play with, and the dog will be a good snack." The merc leader gloated as around him his men shared his dark laughter and cruel smirk.
Oh this motherfucker.
"You done with your evil gloating you arshfaced simpleton who isn't even important enough in my mind to give a name?" I suddenly called out, causing the laughter to cut off and actually cause said idiot to look a little gobsmacked.
"You think I'm afraid of your petty threats? I'm a gods be damned Witcher, I face down horrors that would make you shit your britches every other day. Just today I put to rest specters that haunted the tower in the center of the city for decades. Ser Roland here, I'm assuming, earned his knighthood through years of dedication from boyhood and climbed the ranks of his Order to point of leading a Chapterhouse here. Ivar is a regular human scholar that actively seeks out the most dangerous monsters this world knows just to study them and I've seen him kill men at dozens of paces with a simple rock to the head, and I don't see any of you wearing good helmets. You think you're tough shit cause you cut down defenseless people or fight against your 'equals' but your cruelty shows your true cowardice deep within you. You have the gall to threaten to eat a Witcher Hound who even at this age could easily rip out your throat if I gave the order.
So let me make one thing clear, you had the chance to walk away earlier cause I was being merciful. Now though… now you are not going to see the next sunrise and if the rest of your little band was smart they would throw themselves to Ser Roland's own mercy right now since this Witcher has none for you now." I called out with as much repressed and controlled rage as I could, growling all the way that put to mind more a wolf than a man.
Holy shit, where did that come from?
The entire street descended into silence at that, several of the mercs looking surprised and a little worried while looking to their boss who seemed to be super pissed.
"... Kill 'em all. KILL 'EM ALL!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as he drew his warhammer and charged, which his men followed suit in.
Before I could even cast my first Sign however something unexpected happened. Namely what I briefly saw as a flying barrel going overhead before it smashed into one very unlucky merc, breaking it's contents of fish and the merc himself to pieces before a new voice joined the battlefield.
"Leave Witchyman and friends alone! BOLT SMASH!" Bolt roared as I turned my head and saw the very angry troll burst through a cart moved to block the road behind us and charge into some very surprised mercs.
Huh, I guessed it did pay to be nice to those that deserved it. Now it was a much more even fight.
I just had to survive it.
Last edited: Mar 8, 2020
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Mar 17, 2020
#523
POV: Bolt the Bull Carrier
Bolt try always be good troll. Bolt make promise to Bossyman lots of time ago. Bolt not best at it always, but trying its best. Bolt think Bolt bad since Bolt kill bull, but Bolt was just sad not bad. Bolt still gots lots of importance works to do at farm for Bossyman, little bossies, and bull's brothers and sisters.
Witchyman remind Bolt this, this make Witchyman good and friend. Bolt like friends.
Bossyman worried when Bolt say he smell bad humies close to Witcheyman, wants to go back to farm where safe. But Bolt say how Bolt is "honored" to protect Witcheyman for helping Bolt. Bossyman just smile and nod head, saying to Bolt to come home later and "smash 'em good for me."
So Bolt throw big barrel at bad humies and smash one, for Bossyman, but now Bolt smash for Bolt and Witcheyman!
Bolt smashes wheel table to side hard, Bolt would have tried to move more gently before but was in hurry to smash and it was in way. He run up and grab one bad humie by leg before swinging him around to smash into other humie hard. They scream and yell but Bolt more focused on smashing.
"Ow! No poke Bolt with pointed stick!" Bolt yells while grabbing stick humie poked into his side, before wacking him back. It hurt but not so bad so Bolt only give small smack so humie fall down.
"Gods be damned, someone get the firebombs and hammers! We can't kill this thing with just swords and spears!" one of the humies yelled and Bolt snarled a bit. Bolt no like fire on him, fire only good when making stew.
Bolt saw some bigger humies come at him with bigger hammers that hit Bolt hard. Bolt tough but that hurt more than pointed sticks, so Bolt no like!
Bolt threw out a fist that knocked one of hammer humies away, but other one hit Bolt's arm! Bolt punch him too! Humies all around him and hitting Bolt.
Bolt tough but Bolt no like being hit and it starting to hurt more.
Then few humies get cut and Witcheyman was here!
"Bolt come to smash humies and help Witcheyman!" Bolt said with a smile as he smacked away another humie.
"Great! Glad to have you Bolt!" Witcheyman said as he held out hand and then fire happened! It cover humie who scream and yell while running off covered in fire. That why Bolt no like fire on him, only on stew and meat. Humies should know this too. "Bolt! Can you curl up into a ball for me?! It will help smash more of them at once!" Witcheyman said.
"Bolt curl and smash? Bolt become ball!" Bolt agree and bend over and tuck his body into himself. Bolt not see anything but ground but could hear and feel humies hit back, it didn't hurt as much but Bolt couldn't smash neither. Bolt wasn't sure how this would help smashing humies… oh, there is neat rock on ground.
"Hang on Bolt! This might hurt a little!" Witcheyman say and before Bolt can say back Bolt hear loud whoosh sound and was rolling! Bolt become ball in truth! Bolt get real dizzy but at same time hear and feel lots of wet meaty sounds like how he punch bad humies, then Bolt hit and break through something hard with loud crunch!
Bolt roll for little bit more before hit something else and stop. Bolt unroll and find world upside down now and Bolt see broken tree next to him and gate with big troll shaped hole in it. Troll gonna be in trouble for doing that!
But Bolt realize something else that day, he learned that roll-smashing fun!
--
POV: Ivar the Monster Scholar
Ivar was quite glad that Markus, Ser Roland, and now Bolt were drawing the vast majority of the mercenaries attention on them since, while he was no coward, Ivar could admit that since he was unarmored and armed only with a sling he was the weakest link in the party other than Dogmeat, who still was barking very much at the enemies around them.
Even now he could see Ser Roland in the thick of the fighting, his years of experience fighting in heavy armor and his sword and shield making it so the brigands were having poor luck getting past his defenses while he exploited their weaknesses ruthlessly. Markus meanwhile was much more mobile, prefering to avoid being hit and then striking quickly while using his magic to augment his attacks and defenses. Ivar had never seen so many men be set aflame, thrown through the air, reduced to near standstill, or even seemingly caught in a daze before his blade ended their lives. It was quite humbling seeing obvious warriors go up against such numbers and hold their own so well.
Bolt was a force of nature all his own! Troll constitution and strength forcing the enemy to gang up upon him and work hard to avoid his blows that could snap them apart at ease!
"Gods be damned, someone get the firebombs and hammers! We can't kill this thing with just swords and spears!" one of mercenaries screamed and Ivar's mind suddenly rushed. These mercs were not as foolish as they seemed, they knew that fire could get past and even slow a troll's endurance. That could not do at all!
"Markus, I do believe our large friend could do with assistance!" Ivar yelled to his comrade as he scanned around them and- there! Ivar wasted no time letting lose a lead shot at a mercenary raising a lit firebomb, looking like some crude device that was nothing more than a wine bottle with a rag in it, and much to his own surprise hit it dead on. He watched as the contents fell all over the mercenary and those unfortunate enough to be close by before they went up in flames as well, running around in pain and fear looking for some way to douse the flames.
Markus couldn't help but feel a little green around the gills for that, no man deserved being burned alive after all.
"On it! You stay alive and back up Roland!" Markus said as he quickly dashed off to assist Bolt.
Ivar only responded by letting lose another lead shot into the back of the knee of a mercenary seeking to strike Ser Roland from behind, dropping in pain as his leg was now bending in the wrong direction. Ivar repeated this as many times as he could, attempting to aim for heads and unarmored parts of foe when he could though body shots were somewhat hampered by their armor even if it did harm them and give them pause. Ivar was so caught up in his task he didn't notice the danger till Dogmeat alerted him to it.
"Ahh! Gods dammit! Get off me you mutt! Ahhh!" Ivar turned quickly to see a mercenary wielding a crossbow several paces from him try to shake off a very determined Dogmeat who was chewing quite thoroughly at his ankle. If Ivar's guess was wrong Dogmeat must have prevented the man from shooting either him or someone else in the back, good dog!
Before the man could do anything to hurt the brave pup Ivar was quick to aim a shot right at the man's shoulder, no doubt breaking it even through his leather armor, which sent him crashing to the ground with a yell. Dogmeat was still gripping onto his ankle so he was not likely to anywhere any time soon.
As Ivar was loading another shot however he was surprised once more when a mercenary with a sword charged right at him, and acting quickly Ivar used his sling in a manner which most did not expect a man to use it in. Namely as a flail with a bit more range that dropped the man like a sack when Ivar hit him square in the jaw, and most likely breaking it.
Battle was so fast and stressful! And unlike when studying monsters Ivar took no joy in this constant fear for his life. He most certainly pledged to avoid fights with people whenever he could since his heart couldn't take it, and because if he should die who would carry on his work!
--
POV: Ser Roland the Gallant
To fear God and maintain His Church.
Roland ducked a mercenary's wild swing with a warhammer, only to pop up and remove his arm with an upward slash of his blade. These blasphemous heathens! How dare they raise their hands against one who has served the Order of the Flaming Rose so well and so long!
To serve the liege lord in valor and faith.
The rock troll groaned as it wobbled to its feet, clearly dizzy after being hurled like a ball in a game of ninepins. Roland barely spared it a glance, focused as he was on the horde of foes before him. A cautious stab was deflected with his kite shield; for a moment, Roland could almost imagine the features of foes of old. Straight blades and warhammers turned to curved sabers, pale and beardless faces seemed dusky and bearded. It was like a memory, but not quite. Not the first time this had happened to him, but Roland had learned to ignore it when it happened and focus on the matter at hand.
To protect the weak and the defenseless.
The Witcher was hardly weak - even as he thought it, several mercenaries screamed as they flew over his head, tossed aside by an errant gesture from the cat-eyed man - but it was an affront to his honor to see a good man like Markus murdered for the 'crime' of sparing the life of another being, and granting peace to another. His thoughts were interrupted however when there was a sudden great pain in the back of his left shoulder, bypassing his armor, and as he turned he saw one of the crossbowmen holding an emptied weapon and wearing a smirk.
Never to turn the back on a foe.
Despite the pain Roland simply gritted his teeth and hardened his grip on his shield, the bolt in his shoulder might make using it harder now but he could not lose it. Adjusting his hold on his sword, he raised the reforged Durandal and plunged into the fray. Dying once had been...unpleasant. He'd rather not go through the experience again.
Slipping up to the Witcher's flank, Markus spared him a glance. Golden eyes widened as they took in his injury; even so, with superhuman grace and speed, the mutant easily hopped alongside to guard Roland's back. Their defenses secured, the two warriors resumed the battle.
Roland was glad to see that what had begun as a one-sided affair had become much more fair in the short time battle was joined. He could clearly see how most of the mercenaries were either dead or nursing such serious injuries they were no threat at all. Once what was over two dozen knaves had become half of that, and the number was swiftly falling as the brigands were losing their numerical advantage.
Only the weak and cowardly relied upon numbers to see them through battle, and their foes were quickly learning that lesson quite well.
To eschew unfairness, meanness, and deceit.
He'd sworn many oaths as a knight - once for his liege Charlemagne, and once again with the Flaming Rose. Despite the different settings, his responsibilities remained the same. It was a comforting thought that no matter how much things changed, some truths were never altered. Truth was truth, justice was justice, and honor was honor, no matter when and where you were. In this case, all were enforced at the point of a blade.
Fortunately for him, that was one skill of which he'd never had a shortage.
--
POV: Markus, the Golden Griffin and man terribly out of his comfort zone
Holy hell this was intense!
Everything about this fight had things I hated! I was under informed, under prepared, outnumbered, in a bad position, and the enemy was all there for me! I actively worked to avoid these kinds of situations and use diplomacy when I could since I did not like not being in control of violent situations since one slip could see me dead! If it wasn't for my Quen and Witcher skills I am sure I would be already!
Unlike Roland, who trained from youth to fight using armor, I focused on dodging and parrying strikes rather than actively hitting people while using my Signs to do lots of the work for me. Aard to toss people around hard, Igni to burn them, Yrden to slow them down, Quen to protect and explode in faces when it did go down, Axii to mess with their heads, Gal to get the jump on people by appearing elsewhere, and even some of my underused Veoth to give some killer headaches. If I were a better swordsman I'm sure I could fight that way, but I was more like a wizard who knew how to swing a sword without hitting myself so I stuck to what I was good at.
Didn't mean that using Signs so much didn't tire me out and made me hate the fact I didn't have a good time to down some Tawny Oil, or any potion really.
I worked hard to be clever like using Bolt as a big wrecking ball and making sure Ivar was not the main focus, but now I was stuck in place watching Roland's back since he had a freaking bolt sticking out of it now!
Sure we were winning but I wanted to end this now before anyone else got hurt or possibly died.
A quick look around showed me what mercs were still fighting us were being much more cautious now and their boss was looking pretty regretful at attacking but still standing his ground. It was time to break him and end this.
"Hunker down! I'm cutting the head off this snake!" I alerted Roland and before he could respond I Signed out Gal and found space bending around me briefly so I was right up in the not so smug now bastard's face. Credit where credit was due he did put up guard and blocked my overhead strike with his own sword, his instincts and experience keeping him alive… for about a second.
What came next was me kicking his knee inwards with all my strength and watching him kneel backwards in terrible pain before I ended it with a cut through his neck. I don't play fair, sue me.
With his headless corpse decorating the street, the fight quickly left the few mercenaries still standing unscathed, or at least not injured enough to be nearly dead. Most who could turn tail the second they saw what happened, a few tried to pick up their friends and drag them off to safety. I didn't bother trying to stop them since I had my own injured companions to worry about.
"Roland! Are you- well, not alright, but you don't think you're about to die on me, do you?" I asked the knight who despite the likely very painful piece of wood and metal in his shoulder stood standing.
"It is- is certainly not pleasant, but I am no stranger to being injured in battle and thank the Eternal Fire it did not hit someplace more vital. I will have to be tended to, of course, but I do believe I am at no risk of dying just yet." Roland assured me and I just signed in relief at that.
Not only would it suck if a man as nice as him kicked the bucket but out of all of us he was only one who can explain shit and likely be listened to.
"Friends! Are you alrig- Ser Roland, are you aware that you have a bolt sticking out the back of your shoulder? It looks like it hurts." Ivar stated as he came over to us and looked at Roland's injury.
"Thanks for stating the obvious Ivar, what would we do without your powers of observation?" I couldn't help but sarcastically comment.
"Bolt was ball! Witchyman and friends good?" Bolt asked as he too as well came up to us before spotting Roland. "Metal humie has pointed stick in him! Bolt take out." Bolt tried to do just that before I stepped in.
"No! Leave it! Removing it could do more harm than good right now." I said and the troll just looked confused.
"But pointed sticks hurt. When Bolt takes out feel better. Not same for humie?"
"Technically yes… but just trust me on this one big guy."
"Bolt trust Witchyman, even if sound dumb."
"Thanks Bolt…" I grumbled.
"Ah! The guards arrive at last!" Ivar said and turned to see he was right, a group of at least eight guards were coming our way through the very broken gate. Finally, we can get this sorted out and-
"Freeze! All of you stay where you are or so help me I'll add to this body pile myself!" the lead guard said as the rest pointed their spears at all of us.
Oh come the fuck on!
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Mar 22, 2020
#544
"... and you have my personal promise that the men who turned their backs on their duty will be stripped of their ranks and be punished most thoroughly, mi'lord." The guard captain sucked up the best he could to Roland, who had been able to get out of his armor, his wound treated, and had done his level best to grind the man down with words alone regarding the failings of his underlings.
Ivar and I meanwhile were making sure all of our belongings were accounted for and that the guards who had arrested us didn't take anything off the top in the short time we were locked up in the main guard barracks.
"What a total waste of time and what coin this town spends on making sure it's law enforcement actually does its job. At least we only had a little under an hour in the stinking cell together along with a pickpocket and a fisstech junkie." I muttered to myself as I requipped my swords to my back and Ivar stuffed his notes in his travel bag.
"It wasn't all bad, said junkie had some rather deep ideas about monsters I should explore at a later date. Such as if ghouls could be made docile if fed the rotten bodies of farm animals as opposed to people. 'Dead meat is dead meat' as he put it." Ivar, ever positive, pointed out.
"He also kept counting the number of bricks in the cell and lost count every ten seconds, being spaced out on drugs doesn't turn you into a sage." I countered as we rejoined Roland. Dogmeat was by the knight's side and was apparently a hit with the local guards and planned to keep her till we were cleared of the charges against us. Thank whatever power that was listening that self-defense claimed by a knight of a major knightly order carried a lot of weight.
"However… I will have to ask that the Witcher leave town as soon as possible. Even with your word mi'lord most will not take news of a Witcher cutting down over a dozen men well since the last one years ago." The captain sounded actually apologetic, though more to Roland than me.
"Was already planning to leave tomorrow, nearly today really, since I've done my good deed for this town and have learned the lesson slower than I should've that I should have just stayed away in the first place." I grumbled. After this experience I was going to work harder to keep my head down when needed, though I had doubts on whether I could follow through on that.
"Very well, it shames me that I must leave you in such a fashion but I must return to my men since I have been gone longer than expected. Please pass on the message you are delivering to your ship captain and its importance."
"I will. It was an honor to meet a knight such as yourself, Ser Roland." I said honestly.
"And it was an honor fighting alongside you, Master Markus. I hope we can do so again in the future."
We grabbed one another's forearms at that.
"And I hope your research goes well, Master Ivar. The world always needs bright minds with good hearts to guide it."
"That's the plan!" Ivar cheerfully said as he also bid farewell to Roland.
There was just one last person to say bye to.
--
"Witchyman out now? Alls is goods?" Bolt asked from his seated spot outside the barracks as the guards were given orders to let him go as well. Not that they could have held him if I hadn't asked Bolt to cooperate and wait patiently since they couldn't fit him in a cell.
"All good, and we are heading off so you best be going back to your boss and doing the same." I told the troll.
"Bolt do that. Bossyman said would sit on gate home, not big enough to do that though. Bolt go back to farm to carry bulls, more gently now. Bolt keep eyes open for anymore bad humies, will learn to even when sleeps!" Bolt said with determination.
"I'm sure they've learned their lesson, but it never hurts to be safe." I agreed.
"Bolt not sure will see Witchyman again. Bolt wish you safe over big water that taste bad. Bolt hopes sees you again, along with small doggo and talkyman."
"Who is talkyman?" Ivar asked and I had to keep myself from laughing at the weird look Bolt gave him.
"I hope we do as well Bolt." I said earnestly and we parted ways with the troll and headed back to the docks, this time without issue.
--
The Wave Rider left Blaviken less than 24 hours later and continued its journey down the western coast of the Continent.
Other than informing the captain of my newest parcel and exercising Griffin a bit I refused to do anything else and slept most of the day after being mentally exhausted. Felt like I spent weeks in town as opposed to the few days it really was. It was also a lesson in the future not to let my nerdish endanger my life in entering an area I knew was likely going to be trouble for me and dump me into more danger than I could deal with.
And yet… I didn't regret most of my actions even if they were stupid and dangerous since at least the results were things I could agree with. Still, I really needed to rethink things and I obviously could not totally trust my overly biased mind so as I rested I came to a conclusion that I needed another person to go over my decisions to at least offer some other insight. That would be Ivar, and it also meant that I needed to provide context which meant… I had to tell the whole truth.
"Hey Ivar, you got a couple minutes?" I asked the scholar from his own hammock or looked over in confusion.
"Oh? Actively coming to me about something? Should I be worried?" Ivar joked.
"Yes, since what I am about to say will possibly give you an existential crisis but is important since I need a second opinion about how I do things going forward. I won't sugarcoat things, so you up for it?"
"Huh, let me get another journal ready." Ivar turned over to reach into his bag and brought out a new blank journal and quill at the ready. "Where do we start?"
"From when I woke up in a body not my own.
--
About 30 minutes later.*
"...and that is how we are here." I finished.
I think at some point Ivar fell out of his hammock in shock and was now just staring at me blankly.
"I… have… so many QUESTIONS!!!" was his predictable response.
I sighed. "I figured, and I am not going anywhere so feel free to go nuts. Though I guess to give some background we have this idea back home of the many-worlds interpretation/multiverse theory which you know as fact here due to the Conjunction of the Spheres…" I began.
It went without saying that me and Ivar spent lots of time in the hold till we finally reached Roggeven.
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"Here's the plan. I stay here and you go give the message to the nearest member of the Order you can, it shouldn't be hard since this place is full of them, and the wax seal on it should prove its legitimacy to them. I care more about doing Roland a solid and staying away from the center of their power than pay so just say no reward needed or something. They are unlikely to give you trouble at all compared to me after all."
"Because the current Grandmaster is a madman who wants to kidnap Witchers to unlock the secrets of your creation to raise a mutant army to combat the coming apocalypse, I totally understand." Ivar nods.
"Yeah, got to say you are taking a potentially highly dangerous situation well on top of everything else on you." I noted.
"Why wouldn't I? You have opened up literally infinite possibilities in this universe and beyond! You my friend have opened my eyes more than all the learned men in the world combined! And for that I will always be thankful!" Ivar declared with stars in his eyes.
Well… better than him becoming a nihilist or thinking I was totally mad. I think Ivar was the kinda guy who was much more open to the impossible than most people. I won't complain. Still…
"Just get it done quickly and come back just as much. We don't need to stay here longer than needed and just cause you aren't a Witcher doesn't mean you should unduly risk yourself. It would be a shame to lose you just after I expanded your worldview."
"Indeed it would! I promise to all the gods watching I shall return within the hour or not at all!" Ivar declared as he climbed up the stairs to the top deck.
"Try not to do that last one!" I yelled after him before sighing and turning to Dogmeat. "I seriously have no idea where that guy gets all his energy about seemingly everything."
Dogmeat just let out a cute little bark in response.
"I concede to your wise words, truly there is no arguing with you. Now, who wants belly rubs?" I asked playfully.
I got a lot more excited barks in response to that.
--
I was in the middle of my potion experiments when Ivar returned. I was working on a potion that would hopefully up my resistance to cold by increasing my blood flow higher than average for a short time, and I was glad that he seemed unharmed and in good spirits.
"I take it things went well?" I asked as I turned slightly from my work but still focusing on it enough to make sure mixtures didn't go off course. I would still be glad to be in a proper lab one day.
"There was no trouble at all! I did make a pit stop to stock up on ink and parchment since I have many more notes to take, but I quickly found a high ranking Order armsmen who assured me he could take the missive directly to their leadership. I assume he thought me a highly paid courier, the type that delivers messages between nobles and such, so he did not question me much. With that we have done our due to Ser Roland and can move on with nothing weighing us down."
"Good to hear. In a few days we are shoving off again and our last stop on this ship will be Novigrad. From there we will get on a riverboat and go up Pontar a ways before going the rest of the way by foot through Kaedwen to the School of the Wolf's home keep. Should be late fall around then so most likely we will spend winter there if all goes well."
"Sounds lovely! While not my field of study I am sure studying the aspects of a Witcher School would make for a lovely side project while stuck inside for a good while."
"Best work on getting on the Grandmaster's good side then since he can be a bit rightly paranoid about non-Witcher guests who haven't earned his trust. I'll vouch for you but the best way you can get him to like you is to get on his good side by working hard on things they have trouble with. I hope my own skills in alchemy will interest him a great deal and can be of use in dealing with upcoming threats." I grimaced as I thought about what would happen in the next couple years.
"Yes, the Order's mad plans, the Kingslayers, and of course the end of the world as we know it. That is a lot for only two men to handle… will you tell the Wolf Witchers what you told me?" Ivar asked curiously.
"Maybe? I'm worried that the more people know the less controllable things will become, especially if unfriendly people hear of it. Speaking of which we need to get you a dimeritium cap like me to hopefully defend against passive mind reading from mages. There are a few good ones like Triss and Yennifier, but even they have their own agendas at times and we don't have the benefit of being the White Wolf."
"'Women, especially Sorceresses, are dangerous creatures that must be treated with equal parts respect and wariness.' Considering what you told me of the Lodge I must say that saying has more truth to it than I originally expected. It is a shame your "metaknowledge" can not tell us of any mages besides them we could call upon to assist us."
"Yeah, you're telling me." I grumbled as the mixture finally boiled just right and I quickly poured it into a bottle to test the effects later.
"Still, given everything we know is to come to pass your plan does seem the most logical to find allies among the "main characters" of this world. I still find it fascinating how events here can be spawned in the minds of others in an entirely different world. Do our imaginations create new worlds, or do other minds sense these happenings and put them to paper? Are our realms more closely connected than we can possibly imagine or is there some other greater force at play? Oh how I hope this Ciri does not mind a scholar's curiosity and can entertain my thoughts."
"She's a bit less grumpy than her dad so maybe. Just don't go too far since she was trained by Witchers and has learned not to take shit lying down." I warned.
"I will be every part a gentleman… though I do worry our actions in preventing terrible future events will instead bring new ones we can't predict. The future can be a clouded and dangerous thing after all."
"Don't I know it." I sighed to myself as I collected my alchemical things and prepared to meditate the day away with only breaks to play with Dogmeat, talk with Ivar, eat and drink, and maybe play with my Signs.
It seemed like even with a plan in mind I was still finding myself wrestling with the infinite "what ifs" way out there.
Last edited: Mar 24, 2020
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Standing on the top deck with Ivar and Dogmeat we took in Novigrad as the Wave Rider slowly made its way into the expansive docks. It had taken months of travel, but at last I was in some kind of familiar territory. The journey from Roggeven had been most uneventful beyond some testy weather that the ship and crew handled fine, though I was looking forward to being off the ship and at least for a short time in one of the biggest cities in the Northern Kingdoms.
Obviously though the city-state was much more impressive looking in person than through a game engine.
It was a sprawling behemoth of a city - at least by local standards. Back on Earth, it would be considered mid-sized at best, with a population that according to game lore was around 30,000. Robust walls encircled the landward side of the city, while the harbor utilized a combination of levees, sea walls, and fortified towers providing cover against any would-be attackers. From my position aboard the ship, I could make out ballistas, catapults, and - were those fire tubes? Well, suffice to say it was becoming clear why Emrys had such a hard time taking it during The Witcher 3. That plus the local criminal syndicate's threat to burn the ships to the waterline and the warehouses to ash. Not much point taking the city if all of the resources you needed from it are destroyed, after all.
The city had expanded beyond the obvious original perimeter, with a sprawling network of homes and businesses reaching out past the sturdy walls. Within, the city was divided into clear districts - banks and classy shops at the square, the Church of the Eternal Fire on an isolated island north of the city proper, apartments mostly on the east and south, the harbor and warehouse district to the west and north, and farms on the extreme south and east sides, reaching out towards the Pontar River. It even smelled like a traditional medieval city - ammonia from the tanners, steam and coal dust from the blacksmiths, food and flowers in the business area, street vendors selling everything from pierogies and sauerkraut to grilled chicken and lamb skewers. At least, I hoped they were lamb skewers.
And the best part was that the city hadn't yet drunk a tub of Radovid's kool-aid yet! Sure the Eternal Fire cult was still going strong in the city in general but they weren't leading any witch hunts yet for mage and nonhuman population so that was nice. Still, I wouldn't give any of the candle zealots much reason to look my way if possible and for all that it would be great to explore the city in its prime there was honestly no reason to stay longer than needed before moving on.
"Look at all those ships in port, I read about Novigrad's fleet before but it is certainly humbling to see it up close." Ivar said as he pointed out all of the military ships in their docks. We passed several on general patrol outside of the city but the vast majority of the fleet likely rarely left unless confronted with an invasion. Even Nilfgaard didn't want to directly fight it in game without risking a pyrrhic victory at best.
I guess being one of the largest and richest cities in the North along with being a major religious center allowed even a single city the ability to make even the largest nation in the known world pause a bit.
"Yup, with the amount of money this place rakes in through trade taxes alone likely pays for most of it. That is what happens when you are a port city and next to the exit of the Pontar." I idly said as the Wave Rinder's captain and crew worked to dock their vessel into one of the many open docks to unload their goods, and us. It likely required lots of precise coordination and sailing skill to do so with all the other ships coming in and out of port constantly.
Now it was a matter of finding a different kind of boat to take them on the next leg of their journey. But first there were important errands to run.
--
"I shall miss our talks with Captain Pisapia, he had such interesting stories to tell and insights into my own research." Ivar said as he rode his horse through Novigrad's streets alongside my own Griffin, who seemed very happy to not be cooped up on a boat anymore for at least a little bit.
"He was alright, I wished he asked me less about monsters I killed. I couldn't tell him much anyhow."
"Yes, I imagine it would be hard to entertain him when you have no knowledge of the original Markus' memories… if he wasn't entirely made up in the first give what you told me of this "CYOA" before you came here. The concept certainly sounds fun at least."
"Yup, and look where it got me." I muttered as I directed our horses through Harborside, passing by various merchants, sailors and other people who worked the district alongside it's many warehouses. We'd have to hitch them up somewhere though since apparently the city had a law against bringing them into more inhabited areas in order to cut down on horse shit getting everywhere. Couldn't blame them and at least they had a basic sewer system in place to cut down on smells.
Which is why I directed us towards the Golden Sturgeon and promptly did just that before turning to a dismounting Ivar and Dogmeat who was sitting in his bag.
"Alright, we'll meet up back here later as we do our own errands around the city. Hopefully once we are done we can find a river barge captain in this place to take us up the Pontar at least until the Termerian border. Don't get in any trouble and try not to get mugged or something. You take Dogmeat with you so you will subconsciously try to avoid any possible danger."
"That's not how that… I mean… huh, you might actually be on to something there." Ivar mused as he gripped his chin and Dogmeat stood up a bit to lick his hand.
"I know. I'm going to head by bank, blacksmith and alchemist to restock on supplies while you do the same for whatever scholarly things you might want. I also have to do a special stop over to handle something I have been neglecting for far too long…" I said ominously.
"What could that be?" Ivar asked curiously.
I rubbed my face in response.
--
As I opened the door and stepped into the shop I heard a tiny bell go off from where it was attached to said door.
"Welcome to Master Barbarous' Barber Shop, how might I help you today?" a well dressed secretary manning the counter asked as behind him I saw what was identical to a high class old timey barber shop. Well-crafted chairs for patrons to sit in, masterfully made barber tools and other items to tend to requests of customers, and in general a very stuffy atmosphere surrounded the place. There were a few clearly noble or at least high class merchant patrons having their hair done by several people, though none seems like the man in charge himself.
Speaking of which…
"...The man in charge of a barber shop is named Barbarous?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Indeed, you are not the first to comment on it. Though the Master prefers if you do not bring it up since it annoys him." the man said with an air of one who had explained it many, many times before. I decided not to ask and make his job a bit easier.
"I'm here for a shave please."
"Do you have an appointment?" he asked as he opened what was likely an appointment book.
"No, just got in today and as you can tell I haven't had proper grooming done in awhile." I said as I scratched my face a bit which was sporting a decent-looking blond beard. I never liked them back home, too uncomfortable and looked awful, but without a razor I could never do it since I got here.
"Ah, I see. Sadly the Master and his apprentices are fully booked with appointments made months in advance so-" I interrupted by dropping a heavy coin purse on his desk.
"I really need a shave and I'll be leaving soon so I don't really have time to wait. Consider that a drop-in fee and I'm sure someone had to cancel." I stated.
The secretary merely stared at me before opening the coin purse and his eyes widened a bit at the amount. Making a stop by Vivaldi's beforehand to deposit the coin weighing me down and exchanging it for local currency for the various regions I was to pass through was just good sense, not to mention spending money for shopping. This was my last stop before going back to the Sturgeon and I intended to get it down before flies started living in my face.
"Well then, we actually did have a cancellation today and Master Barbarous is likely to grace you personally given your obvious need. Please sit for a moment while I inform him." the secretary said as he got up and walked into the back of the shop and I sat in one of the waiting chairs.
I likely overpaid by a lot but this was Hierarch Square, you were practically required to over pay on stupid shit and I really wanted a shave.
I didn't wait long before a greying Nilfgaardian man in expensive clothing walked up to me from a back office with the secretary trailing behind. Despite his apparent age the man stood tall with ease and gave me a very considering look. I had to admit, his own hair was damn impressive.
Not on his head, but his mustache! I knew Nilfgaardians disliked beards but I guess even they realized the high culture that was a well-groomed lip caterpillar.
"Hmmm, the Gentleman will follow me to a chair. The assistant here will place your belongings safely in the backroom. Please remove your armor, it will otherwise impede the process." the man said with so much stiff politeness and professionalism that all I could do was nod respectfully.
I quickly removed all my weapons and tools and even removed the outer layer of my Griffin School armor and handed it to the secretary who clearly struggled with the weight of it. He likely never had to carry much more than someone's purse or something for safe keeping, though credit where credit was due he powered through it and went to store my equipment safely away. In a place this high class I had no worries about anything being stolen.
I then followed Master Barbarous to a chair near the back and in front of a large expensive mirror and took the offered seat. Picking up a white cloth, he shook it out and draped it around my neck, covering my entire upper body.
A maidservant walked into the room, carrying a steaming bucket of hot water. Placing it down next to a nearby basin, she quickly trotted back out, leaving Master Barbarous and I alone. Barbarous took a linen towel and placed it in the water, letting it soak while stirring a white powder with water to make a fluffy shaving cream. He then took the now-steaming towel and placed it over my face for a few minutes, making sure to cover my entire face while making a tiny hole over my nose so that I didn't suffocate or something like that. He repeated this a couple times, washing my face and getting my beard clean in the process, before taking a badger hair brush, dipping it in the lather, and covering my beard with it. He then took out a gleaming straight razor and whetted it against what looked like a leather belt before carefully going over my face and, well, shaving me clean.
While all this was happening I noticed the front bell door going off again. My eyes were naturally drawn there, and what I saw made me freeze. Because the person that came in was arguably the most dangerous person in the whole city and likely one of the most dangerous in all the North.
At first glance he didn't seem very threatening, what with his forgettable features, bright colors, flamboyant dress, and pudgy looking appearance. But even without metaknowledge the look in this man's eyes was clearly one to be feared, especially as he scanned the room and his eyes landed on me. I also didn't miss the two well dressed men that followed him in and took seats near the front who I was certain were bodyguards with hidden weapons.
He turned to the secretary and I heard him speak.
"The usual." he stated and the man simply nodded. "And give me the seat next to the Witcher." That caused the man to start a bit before nodding once more.
I then watched the man walk over to me with a slight limp before taking the seat next to mine as another man came over to prepare for his own request. With his near seven feet in height he was taller than me even while sitting down.
Through it all Barbarous did not stray away at all at his job. Props man.
"I don't have the greatest experience with Witchers, so when one walks into my city I take notice and want to check in myself. I'm sure you get that often given your line of work." the man stated as easily as if talking about the weather.
"Hmmm, I guess you would know that given your position as one of the Big Four." I said back with as much control and confidence as I could. At least I still had my Signs if things went to shit.
"You're well informed." he stated.
"We never met, but I know of you through a… lets just call him a mutual acquaintance. A pleasure to meet you Sigi, my name is Markus." I said to Sigismund Dijkstra, former head of Rediania Intelligence, current crime lord, and all around scary scary man.
"Can't say the feeling is mutual." he muttered as the barber placed a towel around his neck..
Well… here is hoping I don't do anything to get myself stabbed in some back alley before being dumped in the Pontar.
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"If the Gentleman would please turn his head to the side?" Barbarous asked politely and I complied. The man certainly had passion for his art, I'll give him that. He took the straight razor and began scraping my left cheek.
Next to me, Sigi was going through a similar process as I was at the beginning, with the barber toweling his face and head and preparing the lather.
"To head off your likely most immediate question I have no plans in Novigrad and honestly am only getting some errands done before I leave the city." I started.
Sigi grunted in acknowledgment. "Plans, while helpful, are largely irrelevant where Witchers are concerned. Trouble finds your kind well enough without having to plan for it."
I watched as Sigi's barber not only spread shaving cream on his face but also his head. I guess he wasn't naturally bald after all.
"In my defense Geralt is the exception and not the norm for most Witchers. I doubt you have heard many songs about Vesemir, Lambert, or Eskel after all. Besides, I figure you would be happy about him being dead and all since pretty sure most of the North knows at this point."
"You're jumping to a lot of conclusions about my concerns and what's important to me. Makes me wonder just how much you know about me and mine - and why. I know Witchers aren't mind-readers, and even if you were I'd have noticed you moving your hands under that sheet. No, it's your nature that concerns me. People with your skills, your knowledge - people want to use it, to take advantage of it. You can work for whoever you want - until it runs into my business." I know I should be more intimidated by Djikstra, but it's hard to take a threat seriously when it comes from under a mask of shaving cream. Even as I watched, Djikstra paused to blow away a plume of cream that threatened to fall in his mouth.
"What do you want me to do? Sign a legally binding contract to leave the city within the next couple of hours and take no jobs? Enter some dark magic blood pact deal?" I asked a bit incredulously.
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm here to take your measure and find out what you want, nothing more. Acting so jumpy, though, makes me curious. I know of you, although we've not met before. 'The Golden Griffin.' That's what they call you up further north. Thing is, you've never left Kovir before - until now. It's an anomaly, and I don't like leaving those unsolved. Troubles my sleep, they do." Despite his tone, Sigi's posture was perfectly relaxed. He paused speaking for a bit as the barber began working on his chin and lower lip.
I just sighed heavily as Barbarous worked on shaving my sideburns, realizing that Sigi was not going to let up until I gave him something important.
"Alright, I didn't want to say this since it makes me feel vulnerable even thinking about it but… a few months ago I took up a contract to kill a cyclops that was terrorizing this tiny village in the countryside. I don't know the details but I apparently took a hard knock to the skull and was barely alive when I got back with the monster's head in my hands. Few days of bedrest and care under a local healer got me back up physically… but I have lost a great deal of my personal memories from beforehand. I still know general things and muscle memory kept me from losing most of my skills but I had to be caught up on a lot, thankfully exposure to certain things helps bring back things in bits and pieces. That is why I'm on my way to the Wolf School since as far as I know they are the only active Witcher school that is still operating in order to get more back or at least retrain what I lost. How would you feel if one day you woke up with no idea who you are but what people told you?" I asked.
Sigi considered what I had just said. "Like shit. Shortly before being offed in my vulnerability."
"Exactly, so you can imagine why I want to go someplace among at least potential friends. Assuming you need proof to back it up I got this." I said as I slid back my head and cap back a bit to show off my scar. "And I'm traveling with a scholar who was with me before I even left the village so he can vouch for me. So that is why I'm so far from home, but the Path takes us where it takes us in the end. We just have to walk it."
Sigi hmm'ed a bit. "Fair enough, and the fresh scar on your head suggests you're telling the truth." SIlence filled the air as he pondered what I had told him, the only sound that of the scrap of the straight razors on our respective faces (and his scalp - I knew he wasn't naturally bald!)
He remained silent until the barbers were mostly finished, leaving me slightly confused and a little nervous. Was he going to say anything?
Finally, I opened my mouth to speak-
"You losing your memory does explain a few things," Sigi finally said. "Like your complete and utter ignorance of the political situation right now. You're heading towards Kaedwen, yes? I don't know the exact location of the Wolf School, besides the fact that it's in that country due to the fact that when winter nears those wearing their medallion are seen heading northeast. In which case, you should be aware that you have to walk through a warzone to reach it along your most likely route." As he spoke, the barber soaked the towel one last time in a fresh basin of steaming water and cleaned off Sigi's face before leaving it wrapped around his face and scalp. It had the side-effect of muffling his voice, which I found unintentionally hilarious. Not that I let my humor show in my voice or on my face. No sirree.
"What war? I'm pretty sure the Nilfgaardians were beaten earlier this year." I asked honestly since nothing came to mind.
Sigi snorted. "You really did lose your memory, if you think that Nilfgaard is the only cause for war in the Northern Kingdoms."
Our conversation was interrupted yet again by the barber, this time with a cup of something that smelled vaguely like spiced alcohol. Barbarous dabbed some on his hands before slapping it onto my cheeks, and-
ARGH! IT BURNS!
I couldn't help but wince quite a bit as what I assumed what was some kinda aftershave was applied to me. Beside me, Sigi hissed as the same was done to him on his face and head.
After our mutual torture had subsided, Barbarous turned to me. "Does the Gentleman desire the full treatment?"
Wait? It's not over? I don't think he means a haircut since I didn't ask for one and my hair wasn't all that long at the moment since it had to be cut back to treat my head wound. I decided just to say yes so as not to sound like an idiot and just assumed it was important.
Sigi stood from his chair, his massive frame towering over me. "We're not done with our conversation, but we should continue this elsewhere. If you really know what I am, you'll know where to find me." On that note, he limped out of the barbershop, his two guards quickly trailing behind.
As Barbarous busied himself with what I assumed were preparations for the 'full treatment', I considered what Sigi had told me. What did I know about 1268? Big things I know were that Nilfgaard was beaten back and Geralt died, but this had something to do with my travel route. Okay, I was going up the Pontar to stop over at Flotsam before likely taking the land route into Kaedwen and to Kaer Morhen. All I knew of the general region was what was shown in Witcher 2 and how the area was a warzone due to the local kingdoms fighting for control over Upper Pontar, but that wasn't till two years from now so… wait a minute…
Before I could finish that thought I noticed that Barbarous started by… washing my hair? OK. Maybe that's just a complimentary service. As he did so, I noticed a maid bring in a small ceramic pot full of some kind of green goop, which she placed by the fire. Five minutes, two shampooings, and three rinses later, Barbarous went over my head with a fluffy towel and thoroughly dried it. He then picked up what looked for all the world like a pair of q-tips and dipped them into the pot, covering the ends with what I guess was wax? What on earth was that-
OH GOD HE JUST RAMMED IT UP MY NOSE! WHY????
AND NOW THE SECOND ONE! MY LIFE IS PAIN!!!
I tried my very best not to fly from my seat and start punching people because there was hot wax in my nose! Seriously?! When has this been a thing in going to a barbershop?
My torment slowly declined as the wax cooled, despite the fact I now had no choice but to breathe solely through my mouth. About two minutes after having two Q-tips with hot wax stuck up my nostrils, Barbarous came back. One hand was gently placed on my forehead, while he made eye contact and nodded. I realized in horror what he was going to do and braced myself for the agony that was surely to come. He then reached up, seized the q-tip, and with a twist, yanked it out of my nostril. As I muffled a scream, he held up the q-tip for me to inspect. Ah. He just waxed my nostrils. Lovely. He repeated the process again, which elicited yet another muffled scream.
People paid for this?! It felt like my nostrils were on fire and…
Wait. Fire?
Oh no, I figured it out. There was a war for the same region two years ago, which was my now! A war that ended when a crazy sorceress summoned a firestorm that targeted both sides and left thousands dead, and later placed terrible curses on both King Henselt and the place that would create an eternal hellish battlefield for the souls that were lost there.
And I had to walk right through it to get to my destination.
Well, worst-case scenario, the rest of my body gets to commiserate with my nose with how it feels. Seriously, waxing nostrils? What asshole came up with that? And why? I'll admit, though, my breathing was a lot clearer now.
After that, talking with Sigi again only seemed like the second worst thing I'll have done today.
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Mar 29, 2020
#608
"As a person who regularly seeks out dangerous monsters to catalog and study I can say with confidence walking into the lair of a former spymaster turned crime lord does not seem like the best decision… though I must admit a bath sounds lovely right now." Ivar noted as I caught him up on events at the barber shop on the way to Sigi's Bathhouse.
"It's not exactly an invitation I can turn down right now, and given what we are likely to walk into up ahead I could do with more details I might not know about. I don't even know how long the war in that section of the Pontar Valley even lasts after all." I grumbled a bit as we made our way through the Gildorf district of the city on foot, passing by the local social elite even as I few either glared at me or made sure to get quickly out of my way. "I just hope that Sigi doesn't have a no pet policy, maybe pay for a private bath so you can give Dogmeat a little scrub down."
The puppy only tilted her head in confusion at my words. I hoped she was the type of dog that actually liked being bathed.
We soon found ourselves walking down some steps and up to the fancy entrance of the bathhouse. I knocked on the door and quickly found it answered by a pudgy and fat-necked man.
"Greetings, Mister Witcher. I'm Happen and my master is waiting in his office to meet with you, which I will guide you to shortly. He did not say anything about your guest however." Happen said as he looked towards Ivar.
"He's just here to get a bath while me and your boss talk. If I buy him a private one can he bring in the dog?" I asked while gesturing to Dogmeat.
"It… is normally against the rules to allow animals in. However, since the bath would be private and cleaned out afterwards there should be no issue. I do ask that you make sure the dog does not disturb any of our other patrons and bathe with dog hair at your own risk."
"Splendid! I prefer to clean myself in private anyhow. I'm not one to talk and wash. Come fetch me when you are done Markus and I hope your meeting goes well." Ivar said as he and Dogmeat walked into the dressing area.
I turned to Happen and then gestured towards him. "Lead on."
He nodded and then walked in the opposite direction away from the bathing area and instead towards Sigi's office I recall from the game. He opens the door for me and I walk in to see the man in question sitting at his desk and reading over something before he quickly covers it and looks up at me.
"Nice place you got here. I encourage any establishment that has people caring more about their hygiene in general. Looks pretty classy as well." I complimented and it wasn't even sarcastic since I was sure this place raked in lots of money.
"Thanks. Make sure not to get your nose dirty while kissing my ass - you just cleaned it, after all." Ah, Djikstra - as charming as ever, I see.
"Ha. Ha. Ha. You couldn't have warned me about the wax?"
"No."
OK.
"I figured out what you warned me about, Ivar gave me a few details but he doesn't know much about the political situation of countries outside of Kovir. Still, I'm kinda on a deadline to get to where I'm going before winter sets in so it looks like I will have to navigate myself through said dick waving contest. Was there something else you wanted to drop on me or did you want payment for the information? I got the coin in a bank account after all to spare if you got anything else you're willing to sell." I offered.
"No, you don't need to pay me. I wanted to get an idea of just how much you know and remember. Besides, telling you about how you're walking into a war zone is just common fucking courtesy." Sigi leaned back in his chair, taking me in. "I've known a Witcher or two in my time; one of them is why I walk with a knee brace. You're nothing like the ones I've met. That intrigues me."
"Maybe the blow to my head fixed whatever makes us the emotionless killing machines people say we are, your guess is as good as mine. Part of the reason I'm checking up with my sister guild to look me over since as far as I know the Griffin School is dissolved at this point even if a few members are on the Path out there in the world."
Sigi nodded. "I heard about the avalanche that took out your keep. Fuckin' tragedy is what it was. Your group is the reason people can walk the roads in Kovir without being mauled by griffins." He sighed before fixing his gaze on me. "So tell me what you figured out. I want to compare your knowledge to my own - if you missed anything, I can fill in the gaps."
So I did, I honestly said how I didn't know much other than the fact the conflict was just one of many over countless generations to control the Upper Pontar between the two kingdoms since it was a breadbasket region. I also shared how I was pretty sure that the two heroes were going to be leading the opposing armies, the Visitor Vandergrift for the Kaedweni and Seltkirk of Gulet for Aedirn. All in all it promised to be a bloody war in general if it wasn't fought quickly.
"And that is the sum of it. I can't tell you much else about details like history, nobles beyond kings, and stuff like that." I shrugged.
For the first time since I'd met him, Sigi seemed surprised. "I knew Seltkirk was there. But Vandergrift? I had no clue he was going to be leading Hensalt's army. Somebody's head is going to roll for missing that detail. He fucking hates Seltkirk and if he is there only one of them is going to leave the field alive, assuming either does at all." He muttered something under his breath about 'bloody useless field agents'. "This could change the entire balance of power in that region. Good to know." He glared at me. "How did you know he was going to be there?"
"It's like I said earlier, things come back in flashes when I see or hear certain things though I sometimes can't explain how things connect or the source of it. I didn't even recall the conflict until you brought it up and it suddenly came to me. Maybe I learned the details somehow from my time in Kovir since if anyone will bankroll anyone else in Northern Kingdoms it's Kovir." I bluffed.
Sigi frowned. "Convenient. Still, it helps me out. That's a bit of intel I didn't know. I don't like owing people anything, so here's something for you. Check out Oxenfurt if you have time. I used to study there, and their library and scholars might have something to help you better understand your condition. Maybe poking around will uncover a few memories if what you say about those sudden flashes is true."
Huh, that was… actually a good idea. I couldn't spend a whole lot of time there but since I only knew the Witcherverse only from the narrow lenses of books and games focused around Geralt it would be to my benefit to know more since I was actually here. If nothing else it would be important to know more about the political situation of the Northern Kingdoms in general so I knew what to watch out for beyond major events that could potentially change.
Also, maybe they had useful knowledge I could use later on… the professor who studied O'Dimm should be alive and any knowledge on how to avoid him was always useful. On the other hand, talking to the scholar might bring me to Gaunter's attention in the first place. Crap. Catch-22.
Either way, it wouldn't be the worst detour to take. Considering that I needed to travel up the Pontar in the first place, it didn't even count as that much of a detour, inasmuch as it was less time on a river barge.
"Now that you mention it that would be a good idea. Thanks for bringing it up, I'm sure Ivar would love to visit the university and mingle with his equals. Anything else before we part ways amicably and, no offense, hopefully never see each other again?"
He shook his head. "Nothing from me at this time. Feel free to take a bath before you leave. It's on the house." Sigi stood up and made for the door as if to leave.
"One thing," I said. Sigi paused. "Why are you helping me? You don't know me , and, if I may be honest, it's not like you have any real reason to love Witchers."
Sigi scoffed. "Who knows? Maybe I'm going soft in my old age. Maybe I'm a bleedin' romantic. Maybe I just want to get you out of my town without you carving through half the city. Take your pick." He finished as he left his office and I saw Happen standing in the doorway.
"Would you like to partake of our baths? The private one for your friend will be covered of course." he asked politely.
I wasn't much of a bath guy… but there was one thing I always wanted to try back home and this place might have it.
"Does this place have a sauna?" I asked hopefully.
"Indeed we do. You are, however, required to take a bath before visiting it. It is part of the process."
"Fair enough, guess that means I'll be joining Ivar and Dogmeat then." I said as I walked past him and Happen got a confused look on his face.
A quick pass through the dressing room to undress and put a towel around my waist, and I was ready to go. A young woman proceeded to lead me to Ivar and along the way I tried to keep my eye contact above the waist as I saw men walking around free-balling it, which given the culture makes sense - but even so! I still had my American sensibilities, darn it!
We made our way through the public bath area and I quickly pushed open the door to the private room to find Ivar and Dogmeat soaking in a stone bath set into the floor. Dogmeat looked like she was having the time of her life doing doggy paddles around the pool! So cute!
"Markus! I trust the meeting went well on account of neither of us being dead?" Ivar raised a dripping arm in greeting as I lowered myself into the bath, towel still on since I was self-conscious dammit! At least Dogmeat paddling over to me made it a little better. She nuzzled my arm, but refrained from licking me.
"Yeah, we can enjoy the bath for free and leave the city without worrying about being jumped… by Sigi's people at least. Hard to believe but he is not even the worst crime lord in this town, more like tied for second worst."
"Oh… that is lovely." Ivar responded a little nervously.
"But you'll be happy to know we will be making a little detour on our trip. Namely since I realize how narrow my knowledge really is of the world I think a week or so in Oxenfurt wouldn't be out of the question. How's that sound to you?" I asked as I laid my back against the bath wall.
"Excellent! I can turn in my latest papers for the Oxenfurt Quarterly and pick up my research stipend! So much for xenobiology being an 'insignificant field of study'," Ivar said in a mocking tone. He continued, "I even have a few colleagues there I can introduce you to if you are interested who are more open-minded!" He paused for a moment, a gleam entering his eyes.
Uh-oh…
"Say! How would you feel about providing a guest lecture or two while you're there? I'm sure you have a great deal to share on the topic of monsters, alchemy, and magic, barring Witcher secrets of course." He asked with puppy dog eyes. Where did he learn to do that?! Dogmeat, did you teach him your secrets?!
Then again… Vesemir did complain in the game how modern day scholars were producing hogwash about monsters compared to his day… And didn't Geralt moonlight as a guest lecturer a time or two?
"Alright, I guess there is nothing wrong sharing knowledge others can make good use of… but I reserve the right to punch in the face every scholar who asks to dissect me, to drink or eat things to prove a theory, to produce 'samples' for studies, or anything along those lines." I stated. Geralt had to deal with that shit way too much.
Ivar snickered. "Oh? In that case, I really do need to introduce you to a couple of my more obnoxious colleagues" he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
"Guess that settles it. Now, the lovely lady said that after I bathe I can enter the sauna and then repeat the process a few times for the best result. Wish me luck, I might have to hang out with some assholes with their dicks on display." I grumbled as I made my way out of the tub.
"Hmm? Do people not do that where you're from? It's quite the tradition here. Or did you think I wore a towel in the bath?" Ivar questioned. Unlike yourself, went unspoken.
"Lets just say where I grew up most people liked to make cleaning themselves a private thing. Also, I avoided looking down as much as possible."
"So innocent! Are all Witchers so sheltered?" Ivar jested.
"No, most are weirdly horndogs. They really get around." I said, recalling the, ahem, 'exploits' of Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, and even Vesemir as recounted in the series.
Old guy had game.
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Mar 30, 2020
#616
Heh, I never knew how oddly refreshing saunas could be. If it wasn't for sharing it with a bunch of other people I would have enjoyed it more. At least Ivar and Dogmeat were happy with their baths. The alternating between the heat of the sauna and the cold of the water in the pool next to it was bracing, to say the least.
With my business with Sigi done and errands taken care of, we went by the Sturgeon to pick up our horses and leave Novigrad before I attracted the attention of any more powerful and dangerous people. The absolute last thing I wanted or needed was to have to deal with the likes of Cleaver or Whoreson Junior. I wasn't sure I'd be able to restrain myself from killing the latter if I ever came across him. That scene where you found him in the game? Ugh. Nightmare and nausea-inducing, to say the least.
Honestly? If it wasn't for the fact he would be hard to find and I would likely have to cut through a small army I would have no issue hunting him down for things he will do and has already done with utterly no shame… then again if I let Destiny play out his criminal empire is taken over by Dudu and turned into some much less awful.
Either way, not worth the time right now. Still, I don't like thinking that Destiny is right in this situation.
Anyway, we made our way to the east side of the city and exited out the Gate of the Hierarch and into Farcorners. The Bits might have been the poorest and most cramped part of Novigrad but here it seemed like the city's unwalled ghetto where all the poor non-humans lived considering I saw most people living outside the walls of the city were dwarves, elves, and halflings. Still, while they didn't live in luxury they didn't seem that unhappy or in fear of their lives at least.
Weirdly enough they likely have Cleaver and his Crownsplitters to thank for that. The guy was really into coexistence among the various races. Even if it was enforced at the edge of an axe.
Anyhow, we rode through the district up northeast a bit until we came before the eastern bridge that would take us down the land route towards Oxenfurt, as was helpfully printed out on a nearby road sign.
We were about to cross it when something caught my eye in the river. It looked like… floating barrels? But they were just sitting in place and not going along with the current, which had to mean there was something keeping them in place.
Wait… no, it couldn't be… could it?
"Is something wrong Markus?" Ivar asked and even Dogmeat looked confused from where she walked along on the ground as I hopped off Griffin and handed him the reins.
"Ivar, go find a cart and pay whoever owns it enough to buy three more and come back. Something tells me it will be a worthwhile investment." I said with no further explanation as I reached for my Killer Whale and downed the potion in one go. I felt the burning feeling of the poison in my veins but I also felt as if I could breathe in deeper than before.
I walked up to the shore of the Pontar tributary, pulled off my boots, took off my swords, and most of my other gear other than my crossbow and placed them both on the riverbank - and dove into the river.
I wasn't sure if it was due to the Killer Whale or just Witcher eyes in general but other than being a bit more blurry it wasn't that hard to see in the water, barely bugged my eyes either. Also, as I swam towards the barrels sitting in the middle, I didn't even feel the need to breathe despite hard swimming for at least a few minutes.
Back in my old body I was lucky to hold my breath for 10 seconds while swimming, seeing as I wasn't the most active person, and assuming Witcher's were in peak human condition at least that meant they could beat the world record holder for it at 24 minutes. Add Killer Whale on top of that, and I might be able to hold my breath for almost an hour!
Dang. Witcher powers op, plz nerf.
Then again it made sense if they had to swim into a monster's lair or something, though honestly I would never want to face a monster in its preferred habitat if I could help it.
Geralt might be able to wrestle with kikimori in a swamp but drowners become a lot more scary in the water than on land.
Thankfully I didn't see any swimming around and as I got closer to the barrels I could confirm that they were being held in place by ropes that were tied to three large chests sitting at the bottom of the river. I knew it, a smuggler's cache in the same place as in the game.
I mean, it made sense I suppose, but then again anyone can see barrels from shore if they looked a bit more closely without Witcher eyes and maybe figure out something was weird… or maybe they just thought it was random barrels. I decided not to question it.
Instead I am going to do what any good murderhobo does, loot!
I cut the rope attaching a barrel to one of the chests and as it floated off with the tide I began the tiring process of dragging the heavy ass chest back to shore, and about 5 to 10 minutes later of fully abusing Witcher strength and not having to worry about breathing as much I was doing just that.
Ivar wasn't there but Dogmeat was stoically standing guard over my belongings which I just now realized that with Ivar gone I had left sitting there for any schmuck to be able to take. It's a good thing I had friends or else looting would be hard.
"Good girl. I'll give you a reward later, but in the meantime just keep doing what you are doing until Ivar comes back. Okay?" I said as I used the Xill Sign to transmit the message mentally as well.
'Guard smelly stuff!' was Dogmeat's reply. Heh, couldn't argue there, no such thing as laundromats here. Anyway, back to work.
Thirty minutes later, and I had finished dragging the third and last chest ashore. My chest pumped like a bellows as I struggled to catch my breath.
Having actually dragged the damned things up it finally occurred to me that since these were smuggled goods it likely meant I just messed up someone's criminal enterprise… shit. Maybe there was a way to find out?
I looked over the chests and quickly found an odd symbol. It looked like a demented smiling clown head which meant this was likely Junior's goods since his gang dressed up as clowns. If that was the case I had no issue stealing it for my own benefit.
If it belonged to Sigi or the other two I would have tossed them back in the river and hoped it didn't connect back to me.
The sound of wheels drew my attention back to the road to see Ivar on a cart being driven by our two horses.
"Markus! I paid about 50 crowns for this cart so I hope whatever you found was worth it."
"Well, let's see then." I said as I picked up a big rock and smashed it against the lock holding one chest closed, breaking it off in the process due to rust and my enhanced strength. At which point I opened up the chest and found myself grinning and Ivar gaping a bit at what was inside.
Funny how what was labeled 'junk' in game could still fetch a high price in the real world. Two ingots of silver, check. A full set of china dinnerware, check. Two pouches of florens and one of orens, check. Oh, and a box full of fisstech. Of course. The former was carefully repackaged and placed in the chest; the fisstech I pulled out, carried a respectable distance away, and incinerated with a blast of Igni while staying upwind from the fumes.
The other chests held similar valuable goods from gems, jewelry, some ingots of other metals I didn't recognize, some rare alchemical goods, coins of various types, some things nobles would love like silk, dinnerware, etc and of course more fisstech which I happily destroyed. All in all it was a good haul.
"I'd say it was worth it. Wouldn't you?" I couldn't help but smirk at Ivar. The academic could only nod dumbly in reply, still goggling at the treasure.
--
With our newly acquired wealth onboard our cart and the one it belonged to behind us we kept up our journey across the bridge, past the Seven Cats Inn whose namesakes hissed at me at we passed (I swear Witcherverse cats used the magic they passively took in to make themselves super cute to population in order to spread across the world unhindered), and crossed another bridge into the local countryside.
From there it was a mostly uneventful journey for most of the day as he traveled along the road besides the odd person or so we passed along the way. It was nearing dusk when we finally arrived at the village of Carsten, its windmill being the most eye-catching out of all the buildings there.
Seeing as it was still little less than half a day's journey to Oxenfurt we decided to spend the night in the village's small inn to rest up for the last leg of the trip tomorrow.
I might have been a little overly happy about our haul since in order to make locals feel at ease about the Witcher in their little village I bought an entire round for everyone who wanted it, quickly becoming everyone's best friend while I sat with Ivar sipping my cider.
I went to sleep that night feeling satisfied and pleased with myself.
--
Of course, that was when I was woken up to loud knocking on my door and me grunting in anger at my sleep being disturpted.
I swear if the Wild Hunt itself hadn't arrived I was gonna… do something.
"What do you want?" I asked in a snappy tone as I opened the door to a well dressed man with some receding hair and beard looked at me as if all his prayers had been answered.
"Oh thank the gods, the Eternal Fire, and whoever else was listening! I heard rumors a Witcher was in the village but you have no idea how glad I am that it's true! Master Witcher, I am in dire need of your services!" the man said in relief.
"Okay, first off my name is Markus. Second, who are you to wake me up so early in the morning. And third, what's the issue you are desperate for a Witcher to handle?" I grumbled.
"Ah, right. Introductions. I am Luc Vegelbud of the Vegelbub family who lives in the manor just a little bit aways from the Carsten. I'm actually a bit of a black sheep in the family due to my business of running local horse races, gods know Aunt Ingrid is an absolute bitch about it and I think her prayers to see me fail have finally been answered because just the other day one of my riders and their horse was attacked and dragged off by a monster! If it is not killed my patrons will lose faith in my business and I will go under! If Ingrid sees that she will have no trouble tossing me out without a coin to my name!" Luc explained a bit frantically.
"Hmm, you get a look at the beast when it attacked?" I asked curiously.
"We all did! It happened on the racing track right as the rider and his mount were about to cross the finish line! It was a gods be damned manticore!" Luc stated.
Oh, damn.
"And when you say manticore…" I asked hoping this was just a case of mistaken identity of another less terrible monster.
"Large as a full grown horse, bat wings twice as wide as it was long, goat horns sticking out of the head of a lion and a vicious scorpion's tail dripping with poison. I was near certain I would die from shock on the spot! Half flew half dragged its prey away into the nearby forest, no doubt feasting on both as we speak!"
Oh, Damnnnnnn…..
