"A hunter?" Ciri asked as she stared down the stranger. Surely he did not look anything like a hunter in the traditional sense of the trade, nor did he wear the attire and insignia of the witchhunter's order of the church of the eternal fire. He looked more a Nilfgaardian noble than anything else, at least according to the way he was dressed. His eyes were still darting about the place, lingering briefly on seemingly random points in their environment.
He did not answer for a while, until his eyes landed first on the captain and his blue and yellow armour and secondly on Ciri herself, his sharp greys meeting her youthful greens.
"Um... what is your name?" She asked, a bit irritated by his extended silence. As a stranger it would be customary to introduce oneself, yet the man just looked around, his gaze now no longer fixed on her, but on a small bird that jumped across the ground at his feet.
"Are you alright?" She said as he didn't give an answer.
"I am..." He started and looked back up at her. "I am... unsure of my name. I apologize."
"Do you mean, you don't remember? Do you know where you came from?"
He continued to stare, but she noticed that he wasn't looking at her, but rather directly through her. Lost in thought. Surely this was as confusing to him as it was to her and everyone present.
"Yes." He finally answered. His gaze woke up again, fixated again on Ciri.
"I was... in a dream. I believe." He took a step forward.
"Say, are we awake now?"
Ciri raised an eyebrow at the odd question, but slowly nodded her head.
"Yes. As far as I know, this is not a dream. You are in Velen. This town is called Rhinzweig. To the south are the Mahakam mountains and to the north is the Pontar that flows westward towards Novigrad and the sea."
He listened to her explanation, seemingly without any reaction, but his eyes were still moving, now rapidly between her, the people and everything around them.
"Maybe he's a bit daft?" The captain whispered to Ciri.
"Don't know." She answered. "He obviously seems lost. I don't think he-"
"I come from Yharnam." The man suddenly said.
"A city far to the north, though I don't know if it exists here. I fear I don't know much from before."
His expression was apologetic, even though he stood upright with his back straight and his hands by his side. Whoever he was, his upbringing must have taught him formalities and stance similar to that of common courtly etiquette.
"Well, my name is Ciri and this is..." She gestured at the captain.
"Uhm... captain Hans Kerren. I oversee the local militia." He paused shortly.
"Are you feelin' well? Would you need medical attention?"
"...No." He said after another moment. He slowly turned his head around to the right, drawing air through his nose. Ciri recognized this motion. He was sniffing the air like a dog or a wolf.
"Well... maybe we should bring you inside then. It must be awfully cold out here for you, being as soaked as you are." Ciri said, watching the Hunter cautiously. The way he was acting was strange and even a bit intimidating, consciously or not.
"That would be a good idea. You have my gratitude." He said, without looking away from the direction he was facing.
She waved it off and after a meaningful exchange of glances with the captain, she and the rest of the people present made their way back home, or to Jürgen's inn. He followed wordlessly, water dripping silently from the front corner of his tricorn.
Jürgen was already waiting for them, as well as the sorcerer from before, with his elven companion. Apparently they had gathered medical supplies and even surgical tools and a few bits of clean cloth, should wounds need to be tended to.
One after another they entered. The captain and his men huffed in exasperation as they removed their helmets and weapons to put them aside. Ciri sent a quick smile at Jürgen to let him know that everything was alright. The sorcerer and the elven woman relaxed too, having been needed to expect anything from this night's unique situation.
Both were in the process of turning and gathering up their laid out supplies, when the sorcerer suddenly stopped and turned around. He came to face with the Hunter, standing in the doorway, slightly bowed to keep his head from colliding with the door frame. He looked to either side and stepped inside, keeping his back to the walls and moving out of the doorway.
"Morning friend. My name is Jürgen. Welcome to my establishment" Jürgen said as he approached him quickly, stopping before him and performing a slight bow.
The Hunter too bowed his head, while drawing one foot behind the other and motioning both of his arms slightly to the right. It was subtle and simple, not like the exaggerated Nilfgaardian stance that seemed to please their nobles so much.
"The pleasure is mine." He answered, offering his hand. "Though I regret I come short of an introduction. Regrettably, I do not know my name, only that I am a Hunter."
"Of noble beasts I presume, judging from your dress." Jürgen said while leading the man further into the room. He did not take heed of the muttered 'You could say that.' from the Hunter.
"You must be exhausted. The captain's men say you appeared out of thin air. Like the ground spat you out." Jürgen continued. Ciri had fallen in line behind them as they walked over to the counter.
"Will you stay? To collect your senses?" The innkeeper asked, slipping behind the counter. The Hunter stopped before him, seemingly unsure of what to say for a while. A few moments passed before he spoke.
"I do not know where I am, sir. Neither do I know if the few coins that I have on me will be enough to pay you for a stay."
Jürgen laughed heartily, making the man raise an eyebrow and Ciri smile a little.
"We'll see to that somehow. Who would I be to deny shelter for a lost traveller? Let's get you to a room for now. You look like you haven't slept in ages."
The stranger nodded and said his thanks. Jürgen looked around, probably looking for one of his daughters to take the man up to a room. He quickly remembered that it hasn't been so long since a storm had shaken his house and they were proprobably around, or back in bed, catching up on sleep.
He beckoned the man to follow him and soon they were gone, Ciri and the rest of the people still downstairs, unsure what to do.
"Well..." The captain started. "Old Jürgen's always been quick to befriend other's."
"He sure is." Ciri concurred. "Well boy's. Night's been long. I guess I'll head off too. Take care."
"You too, miss witcher." The captain said.
The horses were nervous this morning.
/
Ciri awoke to the sound of laughter and steel on steel. Quickly, she got up from her bed, dressed light and pulled on her boots. The sounds from downstairs did not seem overly hostile, still she preferred her blade with her, so she grabbed the sheathed sword and left her room to move downstairs.
"Great!" She heard Lea, Jürgen's youngest, a girl of sixteen years shout after a particularly fast following of metallic clashes. She rounded the corner towards the back exit and saw a veritable crowd of people, probably from breakfast, surrounding the small backyard of the inn. Through the backs of people, she recognized Jürgen and his daughters, standing to the side, most of the people from the last night and a few newcomers.
In the middle of the courtyard, captain Hans Kerren circled around the Hunter, blunt practice blade in both hands and eyeing his opponent with intent. The Hunter just stood still, his own sword in a perfect ox, his body only following the captain's movements occasionally. Ciri slipped in next to Jürgen, Marie and Lea.
"What is going on?" She asked.
"Hans came by for breakfast this morn." He answered. "Sat with the guy. Said that a true man knows how to lead a blade. Challenged him to a friendly spar, after your Hunter-"
"My Hunter? If anything he's Hans' Hunter."
"Both 'o yourses Hunter said that he knew how to fight. Well Hans said he only believed it when he saw it."
"So they just started brawling, directly after breakfast?" She asked, just as Kerren lunged forward with a downward slash, that was nimbly deflected by the Hunter's own blade, making the captain's sword sail off to the side. Still he collected himself quick, assuming a defensive stance as the Hunter performed an impressive dash to the side, one of the kind Ciri hadn't even seen from Geralt. It seemed as if he only took a quick step, but the distance covered was easily the length of a grown man's height.
"Huh, you're nimble, I give you that." The captain said with a grin, while the Hunter stayed silent, his eyes never leaving those of Kerren.
"They've been doing this for fifteen minutes now." Jürgen said to Ciri, before adding, in a louder voice:
"'Bout time they finish this!"
Ciri grinned as several of the captain's men broke out in cheers and light provocation.
"Show him how it's done!" One yelled.
"Put him on his back!" A second one chimed in, yet Kerren stayed calm, as he and the silent man circled around each other.
"I'm waiting." He finally muttered, almost inaudible to the crowd, but Ciri saw the Hunter smirk behind his swordarm.
Suddenly, he dove forward and turned his blade, but instead of delivering a strike, he transferred to an overhead guard at the last moment. The captain, apparently confused, tried to strike from his own guard, but the Hunter, prepared, parried easily, turned and locked the man's sword with his own crossguard. Kerren tumbled forward, dragged along by the Hunter's sword and lost footing. His blunt blade buried itself far into the soil and before he could get up from his knees, he felt the metallic ping of steel on the shoulder of his cuirass.
He glanced around to see the man standing above him, his hands having let go of his sword's hilt, and gripping the end of the blade, while the crossguard pointed straight at Kerren's neck.
"What a flashy move." Jürgen remarked with a whistle. "Don't see it's practicality, but he bested Hans for sure."
He looked at Ciri, who had a grim smile on her face.
"Impressed?"
"That's a mordhau." She answered.
"What?" He raised an eyebrow at the strange word.
"Means murder strike. Swordsmen use it against armoured opponents. Make the crossguard break through metal and get at the skin. Only seen Lambert do that once on a dummy and he was not convinced."
Jürgen looked back at the fighters. "So you mean..."
"Had this not been a duel, he might have opened the captain's artery. Yes."
Cheers and clapping erupted from the audience. The three captain's men rushed forward laughing and clapping him on the shoulders, as Kerren gripped the Hunter's offered hand to be pulled to his feet easily.
"Kerren a veteran?" Ciri asked.
"He is. Best fighter I know, aside from Geralt of course. Was a military combat advisor for a long time. Your eyes for that are better than mine. Was that a close match?"
She shook her head. "No. Kerren had a few angles, but I think the guy had it under control the whole time."
"You intrigued?" The innkeep glanced towards Lea, his younger daughter, who was thoroughly entranced by the Hunter's graceful movements.
"If so, might use the chance to talk to him. Otherwise he'll be under siege from every lass in town before you get to him."
The blonde laughed as she stepped forward. "Might be right there."
The Hunter looked at her as she approached and cocked his head sideways as she nodded towards the meadow that stretched behind the inn and towards the eastern treeline. Still, he seemed to understand, as he accepted Kerren's friendly congratulations and quietly followed behind her.
They walked for a few minutes, until the village was a fair distance away and Ciri stopped, leaning against a mighty oak tree. The Hunter had kept a few steps behind her until she stopped, only now coming closer, with his sparring sword still in his hand, reverse gripped and pointing towards the ground.
Ciri looked him up and down for a moment. Sure, she had previously seen that he was tall, but yesterday, he'd been covered in hat, coat and mask. Now he had forgone those and was lightly dressen in a white shirt, pants, boots and black gloves, which he pulled off to tuck them into a backpocket.
He seemed rather young. Maybe in his midtwenties, with short, dark brown hair and sharp eyes that seldom seemed to stand still. A short stubble covered his jaw, but he seemed to take good care of himself. He was slender in every regard, but Ciri recognized bodily strength and was experienced enough to know that lethality was not tied to someone's bodily appearance. She herself was one of the best examples for that.
"You seem pretty confident with that." She said and pointed at the sword in his hand.
"That's not just duelling prowess, is it?"
He looked down at the sword, before putting it against the stump of a broken down tree.
"I fought a lot." He answered.
"Saw that. A mordhau..." She crossed her arms. "That's a killing move. Where have you fought?"
"Yharnam." He said.
"Never heard of that place."
"It might not exist here." He sat down on the fallen tree, rubbing his hands together. Occasionally he threw her a glance.
"What does that mean?" She asked. "Is it real, or not?"
He chuckled darkly.
"It is. it might just be from a different plane. Another dimension or something. I don't know, but it feels different here. The moon is another. So strange..."
Both fell silent for a few moments. Birds and cicadas hollered across the open space, while the wind caressed the young blades of grass, swaying them to and fro. A few twigs fell from one of the trees, crashing lightly to the ground with shallow cracks.
"Do you want to know why I do not object to your story?" She finally asked, as she was staring across the artificial horizon of treetops.
He did not look up as he inspected the ground beneath his shifting boots and answered. "Because you have seen something similar before?"
She looked at him. "Exactly. The Wild Hunt had me in pursuit for the longest time. Still might be, despite the blows we have inflicted on them."
He stopped his movement and looked back, one eyebrow raised. "The Wild Hunt? Like the stories the Germans and Welsh tell? Spectral riders in pursuit of a spirit?"
She smiled. "Don't know Germans or Welsh, but yes, pretty much."
"Right." He looked back at the ground. "Far from home, I forgot."
Silence again, but this time he spoke up.
"Yharnam is... was a dark place. The city had already fallen when I arrived. I only sought a remedy for the crippling sickness that almost cost me my life. The city was rumoured to possess a wondrous cure. One that heals all sicknesses."
"Let me guess, the cure's not that wondrous." She remarked with a bitter smirk.
He smiled darkly at that.
"Oh, it was. And certainly effective. Blood ministration always yields results, just not always like you want them to."
"Blood?" Ciri asked, immediately reminded of the stories Geralt told her, of vampires and necrophages, who swarmed out in the night for their regular harvests.
"Blood." He confirmed. He rummaged through one of his pockets and pulled from it a small, sturdy vial, with a syringe's needle at the bottom end. Inside, a vile looking, dark concoction swirled about, blackish red mixing reluctantly with dirty yellow.
"I was lucky. My bodily dispositions allowed me to accept this. Most others had no such fortune. They sought healing like myself and instead they found... something worse than death."
"Infection?" She asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes. Horrible transformations those were. The people became rabid, deformed. In some cases it was impossible to discern them from beasts. In even more rare cases, they became monsters of impossible scale. Monolithic and bloodthirsty."
Ciri eyed the man for a moment. It didn't seem like he was exaggerating his tale. He did not look at her as he spoke, nor did he gesture much. His gaze was fixed at a point in the treeline, only occasionally following a movement in the underbrush.
"I am sorry I brought it up." She said, making him look up at her.
"Don't be. It's what happened and that won't change. It's not that I have not profited from it. The sickness that devoured me is gone and I have shaken off the madness that has gripped most of the other Hunters that prowled the city."
He smiled. Earnestly and wholesome. His grey eyes shot over to Ciri and she recognized a strange lightness in his gaze, something hopeful, but awkward. Like he had no experience in feeling this way. She thought of asking him if he would go back. Maybe he had unfinished business, maybe he was like the many veterans she knew, addicted to war, the camaraderie.
"It's nice here." He started again, looking back at the forest. "Peaceful... it seems. Say, why was this 'wild hunt' pursuing you?"
She didn't speak, yet when he looked back at her, she felt something in the back of her head that warned her. Told her to be cautious, that this strange man was not at all ordinary, other world or not. She fell out of her thoughts when he spoke up again.
"Why are we here, miss?" He stood up, picking the training sword up by the blade.
She glanced at him, then at the blade, then back at him.
"I wish to spar." She smirked. "I want to fight the Hunter. See if I can't beat him."
He smiled and twitched with his wrist. The sword twirled for a split second, before the heft found itself in his sturdy grip.
"We'd need a second sparring sword." She said. He did not answer, but lowered the blade, nodding and following her as she lead him back to town. More than once she turned slightly to catch a glimpse of him, yet she didn't catch him ogling her. Instead, his eyes were twitching and roaming their surroundings, noting every detail, classifying them and casting a second glance at those things that coaxed his interest. There were a few other people she knew that did this. Geralt, of course, as well as his 'brothers' from Kaer Morhen. She thought Vesemir had been more subtle, but he too had been scanning, always. Always vigilant. She missed him.
They had just passed one of the stones that made up the towns borders, when she felt the Hunter's hand grip her shoulder and stopped. She looked back quickly to see him stare forward, one finger raised to his lips. She was about to ask 'what?', when she heard the scream of a girl further among the buildings.
She almost broke out into a sprint, one hand already at the hilt of her sword, but the Hunter's hand held her back. She locked eyes with him, angered, but he just nodded forwards, his own sword in hand, soundlessly as he prowled ahead of her.
She fell into step behind her, eager to strike as the screams grew louder and she recognized Lea's voice. She was in distress. Then, more voices joined her. Jürgen pleaded, Kerren snarled a vile threat and then someone else, a third, cackled away.
They crept up on one of the houses and rounded the corner silently, now crouching behind a dense rosebush. A crowd stood at the ready. Dwarfs, humans, elve and mage, staring down a group of seven men, among them someone so tall, that Ciri asked herself if he was just a very short giant.
All wielded weapons. Two bows, a mace and four swords of varying shape. The only identification on the mismatched clothing of the seven, were the emblems that were stitched crudely to their upper left arm. Three stars over a blue mountain range at day.
"Akhorn will hear of this!" Kerren spat out from where he knelt. His right arm hung slack from his side, the armor below his shoulder dented and pierced, with blood trickling down his hand. Obviously the handywork of the man with the mace.
"Won't!" One of the attacker's, a slender man with an unkempt full beard, yelled.
"Not if ya wanna see that bitch o' yours again." He pointed at the giant and Ciri's eyes snapped over. A shock of blonde hair was held in the man's hand and she recognized the whimper of Jürgen's youngest daughter. The thin man stepped forward, pointing at the innkeep.
"No worry. We'll be sure to bring 'er back when we done with 'er." Jürgen looked like he was about to tear the man's throat out with his bare hands, but he was restrained by his older daughter and the elven woman.
The men turned around and walked towards the woods. One of them used his sword to smash a trio of pots apart that stood to the side, scattering vegetables over the ground. Then, they turned around a corner and were gone.
The Hunter moved, each motion straight forward like a machine. He did not turn as the townspeople rushed towards him and Ciri, nor did he answer their pleads. Instead he strode forward, sword in hand and eyes narrow.
"Ciri!" It was Jürgen. He had sunk to the ground, to his knees, surrounded by one half of the captain's men. The other half was either tending to their officer, or had rushed off to arm themselves for pursuit.
"Jürgen." She walked up to his side and took a knee. "Who were they?"
"Some of Akhorn's men." The elf answered for him.
"He is supposed to keep this area safe, damn him! Not to press ransom."
"I know Akhorn." Ciri said. She remembered him from her travels with Geralt here. In employ of the duchy, the man was a mercenary, sure, but he seemed genuinely interested in keeping the people safe. She remembered his men as cordial, even though a bit reclusive at times. However, they had been professionals back then. To think they would fall so far.
"He wont stand for this!" Kerren moaned from the side. A woman was hurrying with bandages and little flasks in her arms, while one of the guards removed the armour on Kerren's arm.
"These men!" He gestured towards the way the attackers had vanished to. "They can't be working under his orders! He would not allow this."
"Sir!" One of the militiamen stopped from a sprint.
"The Hunter fellow has vanished after them into the woods. We are prepared to follow."
"Do it." Kerren pressed through his teeth. "But send a rider to Akhorn too. He needs to be informed of this."
The man nodded and ran off again. Ciri stood up and looked towards the woods, drawing her sword in a practiced motion. The Hunter had gone ahead, hopefully he left a trail that she could follow.
She slowed down when she reached the treeline. The seven men had produced a greatly visible trail in the wet grass and no doubt it would continue into the forest too. After entering, she needed a moment to pick up their track again, but the broken branches, pressed moss and grass lead her on. It took her by surprise a bit, but she was having trouble finding the Hunter's tracks. Sure, there was the occasional footprint, clearly distinguishable by it's form. He wore stable boots with a firm heel, while the shoes of the bandits had flat soles, but his tracks were few and far between. Obviously he was used to treading lightly, but since he was in pursuit, he seemed not to care too much for the concealment of his tracks. She crouched for a moment and took in her surroundings. Years of training had sharpened her senses to the human maximum. Calmly she scanned the spaces between the treetrunks, the light that fell between the leaves and bushes. She listened for anything out of the ordinary, sniffed the air for something, anything.
Blood.
It was faint, but that she, with her unaltered human senses could smell it, meant it was close. She stood up and concentrated on the air, the direction of the light breeze and started forward. She was getting closer, the coppery scent becoming stronger, her hand rolled across the hilt of her sword.
There, behind a large root, was one of the men. He was bald, with leathery skin and a scar across his chin. He made the impression of a hardy individual, but apparently that hadn't helped him. The blunt training blade that the Hunter had brought with him, was broken in half. One part, the lower, stuck out of the man's mouth and had penetrated all the way through his spine, severing it. The tip was still burrowed into the man's ribs. Ciri was unsure about the angle, but she thought it possible that the blunt blade had also penetrated the heart. The man's sword was missing.
"Thorough he is." She muttered as she pulled her gaze from the corpse. Around her were signs of a short struggle, but obviously it had concluded quickly. When she picked the trail back up, she noticed that it had become much easier to follow. The tracks were chaotic, no doubt caused by the remaining six being spooked by their pursuer. They had managed to gain another fifty paces before the next fell.
One of the bowmen was propped against a tree, the bow split in half and a clean cut through his throat, which exposed his airpipe and had severed the bloodvessels in his neck. The man was almost completely painted in crimson. Ciri did not stay long. She had heard a noise further ahead and made haste to follow.
Bounding through the woods, dodging branches and jumping over roots and underbrush, she was fast in her search. The remaining few had cut a deep scar into the forest, one which she was too thankful for.
She heard the subdued clang of steel on steel, followed by a scream, short and ending abruptly. Soon she passed a third man, laying on his side with a horizontal slash across both of his eyes that went so deep that it must've almost halved his head. The scream she had heard could have been him, realising that his end had come, before his brain had been cut apart.
Then, before her, a flash of white among the trees. The man she knew as Hunter, walked steadily forwards. He did not run, but kept his strides long and even, his gaze fixed on a point further ahead, where Ciri had seen a hint of golden blonde. It took her the lesser part of a minute to catch up to him.
"Should we not hurry?" She said out loud when he did not acknowledge her. "They will outrun us."
He looked at her with his grey eyes, but where they had conveyed nothing but confusion yesterday, now they had a sinister glimmer in them. Something dark was lurking behind the visage of this man and he was using it to pursue these men right now.
"They won't." He stated while walking straight ahead. His feet made barely a noise as he seemed to float across the forest ground.
"The large one is severely out of breath already and their leader has twisted his ankle while running." There was something in his voice that she did not like, aside from the lack of remorse after having killed three people. They broke through the bushes and found themselves on a broad path that lead through the forest northbound. To their sides, the path was rimmed with all kinds of local shrubbery, obstructing their view of their surroundings, while the light played in the leaves and needles of the trees. It was perfectly silent.
Ciri felt strangely out of place with the Hunter to her side. He continued forward without pause, now following the pathway, his shadow unnaturally long in the sunlight from above.
"They're up ahead." He stated and stopped walking. He pointed in a direction to their side, where Ciri could, when she strained her ears, make out a small whimpering and an angry, male voice. She remembered this place. They were near an old mining site which had once been home to a particularly nasty tribe of nekkers. It had taken her and Geralt a few weeks to get rid of them completely, but eventually they couldn't find any more. The mine, as well as the adjacent camp, had subsequently been empty. Until now it seems.
She informed him of that and he nodded. His eyes only briefly lingered on her as she spoke. Then, he went back to scan the trees.
"I will come through the underbrush and try to surprise them. Do you think you can hold them off long enough for me to free Lea?"
He smiled grimly, then nodded, before taking the pathway further north, which Ciri knew, led back around towards the mining camp.
It did not take long for Ciri to reach the cave. For a few agonizing moments, she could only hear the sweet girl cry out in fear, but not see her, though Ciri let out a breath of relive when she saw the girl sitting on a log next to the cave. Safe for a few minor cuts and bruises, she seemed unharmed. The giant of a man, with a sword of similar dimensions on his shoulder, paced around in front of her, muttering something incomprehensible. She was just about to ask herself what took the Hunter so long, when she heard the yells from her left, where the entrance to the camp was.
"Morten! Morten!" An unpleasant voice called out. That of the group's leader. "That fuck from the forest is here. He says he wants to parlay."
The giant called Morten grunted and turned. "Parlay?" He might've never heard the word before.
"He wants to talk. Would you be so kind as to tell him to leave?"
"Leave?"
The leader frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Kill him. We need you to kill him."
The giant called Morten seemed unsure. He looked at his leader and then Lea. The poor girl shrunk away from his gaze. She had run out of tears for now.
"You can have your fun later. Now, we need you to work. Come on."
Morten nodded and moved. Soon, Ciri could only hear his stomping and the clanking of his armour. The leader was still there.
"Now it's just us." He said and smiled a disgusting smile. He flexed his hands as he stepped forward. Slowly, Ciri sheathed her blade, careful to avoid any noise. Her hand wandered to her belt, where her knife was fastened. With practiced motions, she climbed out of her hiding spot and closed in on the man.
"I know, we might have gotten off on the wrong foot. But trust me, we're going to have lots of fun together."
Ciri almost gagged, but there was no time for antics. Behind her, the sounds of a struggle were to be heard. She sent out a short prayer that he would be okay. She closed in on the leader, just as he took hold of Lea's dress. His hand had just reached her shoulder, when Ciri came up behind him, the blade at his throat.
"Whow, whow." He raised his hand. A scream was audible from behind them. The Hunter had claimed another life.
"Talk, scum!" Ciri spat. "Why are you doing this? The duke is paying you to keep these people safe!"
She turned him around. He was even more unsightly from up close. With a bit of care and a few visits to a barber and a dentist, he could no doubt become a respectable person again. Now, he looked like a ruin of a man. He grinned, showing blackened teeth.
"We're what? Ha! You think that a few crowns every week is enough for us sticking out our necks every day for people like you!? Or her!?" He pointed at Lea, who had crawled from her seat, back behind a crate of unknown contents.
"And also, we're all men. We've needs too, y'know. And since there's not a brothel in sight for the next one hundred miles in any direction, I think it is only fair if we-"
He didn't get to finish. Ciri had punched forward with her knife and opened the man's throat. He looked at her with a surprised expression, while he tried to shut the bleeding down with his hand. It did not work. Blood was flowing freely from between his fingers and down to the ground. He tried to sit down where Lea had been sitting down before, but he stumbled and fell backwards like a bug, struggling.
"Ciri?" Lea whispered from her cover and Ciri looked at her. She was quick to wipe her hands off of the blood on the back of her shirt, so she wouldn't dirty Lea's clothes, even though these were ruined already.
"Lea. It's fine." She said in the most soothing tone she could muster. "Me and the Hunter are here to save you."
Lea ran forward, stumbling a bit but she reached Ciri's arms. She would give the girl a moment, but she needed to check on him.
"Where is he?" Lea asked, as if she had shared her thoughts. The sound of steel on steel was still ringing over from the camps entrance.
"Let's hurry." Ciri said, grabbing Lea by the hand. The way to tue entrance was short, but blocked from view by several collapsed tents and ruined carts. When Ciri rounded the corner and laid her eyes on what was happening, she was quick to push Lea back behind a large broken down stagecoach. Ciri made a quick count in her head. Three dead in the forest. One she took herself. Left the giant and two others.
Just a few steps from them, one of the three survivors stood nervously, his mace in hand. He was looking over to the Hunter and Morten. The latter was mercilessly clobbering the ground with his sword in futile attempts to hit the former. Apparently, the man with the mace was waiting for a chance to jump in and end the fight. Ciri was about to make him unable to do so, when suddenly, an arrow burrowed itself into the door of the stagecoach, mere centimetres from Lea's face. Lea fell to the ground, staring at the projectile, but Ciri was on the move already.
Drawing from her powers was dangerous. While she and her friends delivered a painful blow to the wild hunt, they were still out there, waiting for another chance. As such, long distance travel was better done on foot or by horse. Short distances however were a different thing.
She vanished in a flash of blue, just as the bowman drew the string of his bow. Skittering, she stopped behind him, throwing up pebbles and dust with her feet. Her hand was quick on her blade and with a powerful swing, before the bowman had a chance to face her completely, she struck him across the side, opening him up. He screamed and dropped his bow, but he did not fall. Instead he pulled a long messer from a sheath on his beld and struck out himself. With his other hand, he held his side. A deep cut, that must have injured something important.
Ciri parried, turned and struck again. Her blade slid down the messer and hit the nail on the crossguard, bouncing off. She immediately disengaged, finding space. The man before her was sluggish, slow, but he was still skilled. She would need to end this soon before Lea was discovered.
She glaced down and found a small wooden crate, just as the bowman yelled in his desperate charge, messer overhead. She hooked her foot around the crate and flung it forward. The thing crashed against his knees, shattering and brought him off balance. He tripped and stumbled, just enough time for Ciri to dash forward and attack.
With a precise swing, she struck across his chest, cutting apart his left arm in the process. She drew her blade back quickly and thrusted, driving it deep into his chest. The bowman fell backwards to the ground, dead, but the man with the mace had noticed them and was coming for her. Closer and closer, soon he would stumble across Lea. Ciri was about to shout out, but suddenly, the maceman was ripped apart by the gargantuan blade of the giant.
The monster swung wildly, blood dripping from numerous cuts across his whole body. He was angry, snarling and desperate to finally hit the Hunter. Again the giant struck and the Hunter jumped back, but now the giant was next to Lea, who had no where to go.
He stretched out his arm to grab her with hands as large as cooking pans, but howled out in pain, when said hand sailed off into the air. The Hunter held his sword high, his shirt stained all over with deep crimson.
"I am your opponent." He snarled. The giant screamed obscenities and charged off again, his sword coming down hard where the Hunter was. Was.
He had twisted to the side and brought his blade down again. Blood sprayed him and the ground, as the giant's other arm came apart at his biceps. But the blade had not cut it off completely. The Hunter pulled, but it seemed stuck. Ciri was about to jump in as the giant pulled, impossibly, his sword from the ground, even with his arm almost hacked in two, but she stopped when she sae something she had not expected.
The hunter vanished into grey silvery dust and reappeared behind the giant's back. He drew his arm back, his hand flat and his fingers together and then drove it forward. Cloth, metal armor, skin and muscle, his arm tore through it all. Blood fell in buckets to the floor as he closed his fist inside the giant's gut and pulled. Violently, no restraint, like a beast.
The giant coughed and fell face first into the dirt, shaking the ground around him. The earth around him could not soak up the blood fast enough that poured from his body and ran down towards Lea's feet in a small stream.
No one said anything. Ciri stared, Lea looked like she was in shock and the Hunter...
The Hunter walked over to his looted blade and pulled it free from the dead man's bone. He looked it over, brushed his finger along the edge and frowned as he stuck it into ground. His front and large part of his back amd right shoulder was soaked in blood, his shirt sticking to his skin, as well as his hair on his head.
He looked up when he saw Ciri stepping up to him, blade still in hand and her grip tight. His eyes were the only spot where his face was not crimson red.
"What are you?" She asked. He would have smiled but he realised the weight in her voice.
"I am a Hunter." He answered.
"That explains nothing." She hissed back and added, while gesturing to the dead body next to them:
"No man could do this. So what are you?"
He stared into her, his eyes narrow. A drop of blood fell to the floor and shattered.
"I am no man, I am a Hunter."