Those are a few tales and short stories, set during the first couple of years, Gerd, as a young witcher, experienced while practicing his trade on the path.
.XXVII. The Path: .I. Worth of Iron.
The ship he boarded in the harbor of Kaer Trolde on Ard Skellig a mere four days ago, left him a couple of miles away from the southern shores of the Pontar, in the land of the Lilies, in Temeria. He and his mare, ventured further southwest, where they passed by the city of Cidaris, from where due to the barren notice boards, he continued south in search for work. Which came a day later, in a village northeast of Kerack, regarding a couple of drowners. And once the drowners were dealt with and the reward collected, from there he advanced east, along the northern shore of the Adalatte, flowing through the valley that bears the same name and the northern woods of Brokilon, rising in the Owl Hills. He and his mare Yyn, stopped in the town of Dorian, sitting a couple hundred miles west, from the Temerian capital, Vizima.
Where as he perused over the notice board, mostly occupied with requests such as: 'Help needed at the post office.', 'Bard wanted to perform at the Weary Inn...', 'Requirement of extra supplies of weapons, armor and helmets needed. The local armorers and blacksmiths willing to take the orders, are instructed to present themselves at the guard post...','Wild dogs roaming the woods southeast of Dorian. Hunter needed...'. Thus after a hefty amount of time he spent reading most of them, his eyes fell upon a witcher contract, regarding a cockatrice, that was mentioned in the notice to have a nest in the hills south of the town...
'Witcher !', shouted a man that got out of the Inn in front of which was the notice board. 'Are you considering on taking that contract ?', the man asked, seeing that the witcher took the sheet of paper from the board, nimbly approaching.
The witcher glanced over the sheet of paper, then looked at the man. 'Are you- Beaumont J. Yaalvond du Vengerberg ?', he asked, being sure of the man's answer. As he was dressed in a clean and elegant gambeson, trousers and boots, with a satchel dangling near his left hip, and a knife on his belt.
'I am, yes. Please, call me Beau. However, are you going to take that contract ?', he asked, excited to hear the witcher's response.
'I am.', answered the witcher.
'Tremendous !', shouted the man. 'Let's talk reward and details regarding the contract inside the Inn, please.', continued the man, as the witcher joined him inside.
They walked inside the Inn and as they were heading towards a table near a window looking out towards the board, a woman addressed Beau.
'I see someone had taken that contract of yours.', the woman said entering the Inn after them. 'Is that him ?', she asked nodding toward the witcher. She was dressed in a elegant yellow and black jacket and beneath it she wore a shirt with a low cut top that revealed most of her cleavage, black tights and boots with short heels. Had her blond hair cut short, and a subtle scar running from her left earlobe down her cheek and stopped near her lower lip.
'Indeed.', replied the employer. 'Where were you ? I remember telling you to stay close...'.
'I was investigating.'.
'And ?'.
'Nothing. If he and his brother committed fraud, they covered their tracks well thus far...'.
'They did commit fraud !', he insisted. 'Otherwise, there wouldn't be all those discrepancies in their books !'.
'I understand, but this far we have no proof of it.', she added sitting at the table, followed by Beau, and the witcher that sat on the other side of the table.
The man sighed then looked at the witcher. 'Anyway, witcher...How much do you want for the contract ?'.
'Don't ask him that you idiot !', she intervened, nudging his shoulder, then looked at the witcher. 'He'll give you twenty-seven orens.'.
'That's too low-', Beau mumbled, before being nudged again.
'Take it or leave it...', she continued staring at the witcher.
'I can't agree nor decline your offer, due to the lack of information regarding the draconid.', the witcher replied, leaning towards the table. 'Why don't you tell me more about it first ? Then, we can settle on the price.'.
'What's there to know ? You have to kill it not us...'.
'Edda.', said Beau, leaning his head right, towards her. 'Let me talk.'.
'Fine.', she replied, crossing her arms.
'Well...Ahem. As mentioned in the notice, she, has a nest south from here in the Owl Hills. I also suspect she could be feeding her fresh hatched chicks. As, a mere few days ago, she attacked a couple of folk traveling the road to Maribor.'.
'Is that all ?', the witcher asked after a few moments, while the man nodded. 'Alright then...Fifty orens.'.
'What !?', Edda burst, hitting the table. 'Thirty !'.
'Edda...', he began. 'Allow me.', Beau said, then looked back at the witcher. 'Let's shake on it.', he continued extending his right hand over the table.
'You idiot...', Edda mumbled shifting her gaze to her right, looking out the window.
'Now let's talk further details...', Beau added, while Gerd pricked his ears, taking his eyes off Edda, back to her companion. 'Edda and I want to accompany you to the nest-'.
'I'd rather go alone.', the witcher replied.
'I understand, but we won't interfere with your work. We'll watch from afar, and once the beast is put down, we'll approach.'.
'Why ?', asked Gerd, placing his forearms on the table.
'Does it matter ?', Edda replied, setting her cold gaze upon the witcher. 'We pay you to kill it. What does it matter to you, what we do or want after all ? It's none of your business.', she continued, then elegantly reverted her head right, and with a squint of her eyes she continued to look out the window.
The sunlight that fell through the small window, to her right, settled mostly on her face and chest. Highlighting her small breasts and smooth skin, that due to the warmth in the last couple of days, took a reddish nuance. Her long neck, jawline, small thin nose, delicate cheekbones and rosy lips, while her blueish almost grey eyes glittered alike a cold fresh mountain spring.
It would be quite an understatement saying that Gerd, fancied her. His eyes glued to her the moment she entered the inn and addressed Beau. And couldn't maintain his attention away from her figure since they sat at the table.
'So be it.', Gerd replied. 'Should we leave for the nest, then ?'.
'Of course.', Beau responded, raising from the bench. 'Are there certain preparations you have to make ?'.
'No.'.
'Then let's go.', added Beau, as both he and Edda raised and stood near the side of the table. Then closely followed by the witcher they got out of the inn, and headed on foot down the road, south, where among the hills was the cockatrice and her nest. After a couple of minutes they spent on the road to the location of the nest, they took a right off the main road, between the scarce woods that covered the base of the hill, which they soon began to ascend.
'The nest is very easy to spot from this side of the hill.', Beau added, gasping. 'I've been- watching her for a couple of days now, and through these days I've come to the conclusion that her chicks must've hatched at least three days ago. Thus why she- enlarged her hunting area. It must be due to the- sparse wildlife in those hills. I recall reading about the fauna found in these hills, and that it was the most affected- in the last three centuries, mostly by human activity. So- I'd say that, if, this particular cockatrice took some human lives, it is an unfortunate incident, which- happens to be mostly something of our own doing. Don't- you agree ?'.
'Maybe I do. But, who else accompanied you here ?', asked Gerd, carefully scanning the ground.
'Just Edda, once. Why ?'.
'There are many tracks leading uphill. Some as fresh as this morning.'.
'Well isn't that weird...', he said turning to Edda. 'I haven't been here, since yesterday at noon.'.
'Someone has. There are four sets of tracks leading to the northwestern side of the hill.'.
'That's where the nest is.', added Beau.
'I'll follow the tracks, you two-'.
'We'll watch from afar, we know...', interrupted Edda.
'Good.'.
'What if the cockatrice isn't there ?'. asked Beau.
'I'll place a bait, and wait for her to show up.'.
'Good luck then.', replied Beau, as Edda went a couple of steps ahead to the eastern side of the hill.
'Are you comin' ?', she asked turning.
'I am.', Beau answered, going after her. 'We'll see you once you slayed the beast.'.
The witcher replied with a nod, then turned and focused on the fresh tracks leading to the other side of the hill. As he advanced up the hill, among the fresh sets of tracks, he noticed some old sets as well. Not really knowing what to make of them, he continued uphill, where the sets of tracks fresh and old, began to explain themselves. As next to the nest, were two bodies with their hands and legs tied. Males, naked and had been dead by about five to eight hours. Untouched by the chicks who were too small to reach them. They were meant for their mother.
Gerd glanced at the chicks, who were still too small and powerless to get out of the nest, situated beneath the shade of a couple of trees, within what seemed to be a cellar, probably, once used as a stash point. He didn't have to ask or wonder about who were those that used it as a stash, for the bodies that were placed next to it explained it rather well. Simply put, Gerd believed it to be tied with the underworld in Dorian.
'Using the cockatrice as a way to dispose of bodies...', Gerd murmured, crouched near the bodies. 'Those two had their windpipe severed...', he continued inspecting the corpses, then stood up. 'Their stench should do the trick. She should show up soon.'.
Then he looked inside the nest, to see if he could find remains of other human frames. 'Nothing.', he murmured, while the chicks were shrieking. 'Should burn the nest.', he continued, then casted Igni on a fluff of dried grass and threw it in the nest. 'This should also catch her attention...'.
And so it did, as soon as her chicks began to cry, Gerd heard from north a loud shriek followed by a rustle of the trees. And soon the cockatrice's figure appeared from beyond the northern tree tops, then dived towards the witcher, which stood ready with both hands on his silver sword. The cockatrice attempted to grab the witcher with her talons before landing, but Gerd rolled back and casted the sign of Aard, then charged toward the beast, managing a diagonal slash across her chest, then tried another, but had to move back and roll as the cockatrice swung her tail. Gerd then moved in a semi-circle, pushing the beast to move left, while popping the cork of his Petri's Philter potion, gulping down the contents. Then with a grunt casted the sign of Aard right before she attempted a beak lunge, that blew the cockatrice inside the burning cellar. Afterwards he grabbed his sword with both hand and as soon as the cockatrice's head popped out from the cellar he struck with all his strength the middle of her neck, cutting clean through it.
The head of the cockatrice flew off to the left side of the cellar while the rest of her body fell back into the burning cellar. And not long after Edda and Beau appeared from the eastern side of the hill.
'You've killed it !', said Beau satisfied. Then turned to Edda as soon as he saw the two corpses. 'And look what we have here...', he continued, pushing one of the corpses with his foot. 'Armin and Svarn. I told you to never doubt my instinct, didn't I ?'.
'You got lucky...'.
'This, has nothing to do with luck, my dear.'.
While the two talked over the corpses of the two bandits, Gerd collected the head, and then approached Edda and Beau.
'My work is done.', the witcher said, standing near the head of Svarn's corpse.
'Indeed it is.', Beau replied. 'Here is the sum of orens we've agreed upon. And...An extra of twenty orens, for the cockatrice head.'.
'What do we need the head for ?', asked Edda.
'I've got something particular in mind regarding it...', Beau answered, handing the witcher a pouch of coins.
'Well thanks. So long.', the witcher said, then left towards the slope of the hill.
'Where to ?', asked Beau.
'South.'.
'Good luck on the path, then. I hope we meet again !'.
'Farewell.', he replied without turning, as he walked down the hill.
He got back in Dorian, where he bought some food, and other necessary supplies. Then later, around noon he and his mare Yyn left the town of Dorian, heading south on the main road, towards the lands of Sodden.
In the early days of the first weeks of spring, beyond the hills and plains filled with flowers and grass with vibrant shades of green. Past many valleys and hills, upon which were laid cities, towns and fortresses, stood a great and rich mountainous formation. And amongst all the peaks stood highest and mighty of them all, alike a fang that pierced and cut through the clouds, the Mount Carbon.
Later in the evening, among the woods within the south-eastern valleys and hills of the Mahakam mountains. Amidst the trees not far from the road, near a crackling fire, a couple of rough laughs and shouts resonated through the dark woods...
'What's that crap you're sayin' ? We've been supplying their bloody wars and campaigns with high quality iron and steel for centuries ! I say we can take a fuckin' break once in a while...'.
'Sides' we're only a couple of months shy of the Ale Festival.', continued another, sitting closest to the fire. 'After all, this shipment of iron is due to arrive tomorrow at noon. Thus, there ain't no reason to fret...'.
'We get the same amount of orens whether we deliver it on time or early.', spoke another, sitting to the left of the one that spoke earlier, on a log, while the other two nodded their heads. 'The Temerians need their precious iron to kick those Lyrian and Rivian bastards back into their mothers wombs...'.
From the woods, left of the dwarves sitting near the fire, a tall, clean shaven, auburn short haired individual approached. Dressed in a rugged, washed up green tunic, above which dangled by his neck, a medallion shaped alike the head of a bear. As lower, trousers of the same color as the tunic, yet unlike the rest of his outfit, he wore a new pair of boots. He took off his swords and placed them near a boulder, on which he later sat.
'Fed the horses.', he said, as he unfolded a piece of cloth, that contained a couple slices of dried meat.
The dwarves looked at him and smiled, as later one of them turned to a barrel to his left and poured in a tankard. 'Here you go, lad...That right there is the best ale you're ever gonna taste !', the dwarf continued handing him the tankard.
'Don't eat that shite ! Come here !', said one of the three dwarves sitting near the fire, moving aside, to make space on the log he sat. 'We've got plenty of food, for us and for you !', he continued, grinning at the sight of those slices of meat, so thin, one could see through. He wore a red gambeson covered in chainmail, had a short hair, and a long beard that began to turn gray. The oldest among the three dwarves, his name was Levi Arlvort.
'So, young witcher...What's your say on this war, eh ?', asked Yoran Craggs as he took a hefty bite from a chicken leg then drank from his tankard. Bald, wore an auburn tunic, and had a short dark braided beard. He was sitting across the fire near another dwarf.
'All that I know is that, war, is a lucrative business.', the witcher replied as he sat down next to Levi.
'Ain't that true...', murmured Levi.
'Might wanna consider heading there after this.', said the red bearded dwarf sitting right of Yoran, Admir Viggis, puffing smoke from his pipe. 'We were lucky you showed up...'.
'...And he saved our skin from those fuckin' winged whores...', added Yoren.
'Thanks to the others. They asked me to look for you three...', the witcher added looking at Yoren's fresh scar above the left eye.
'It was as if they planned to ambush us...', Admir said, puffing smoke.
'Or maybe if you would've checked the damned wheels before we left the mine-'.
'It ain't my bloody fault the road was filled with more potholes than a slice of cheese...', Admir replied. 'They flew down the hill after Nigel and the others descended into the valley and entered the woods.'.
'From the looks of the kills, they didn't eat for days...', the witcher added.
'Damned whores thought we look tasty...'.
'Where did Nigel and the others run into you ?', asked Admir.
'At the crossroads with the path that comes from the western hills of Sodden.', the witcher replied.
'Sodden, eh ?', asked Yoran, murmuring, then looked at Levi. 'Did those cunts join the temerians, yet ?'.
'From what I heard, they prefer to stay neutral.'.
'And why you think that is, lad ?', asked Levi, turning towards the witcher. 'I heard rumors, that before this conflict between Temeria, Lyria and Rivia...King Robbin of Sodden had sent an offer of marriage to one of the two sides fighting against the Lilies...Thus, why his highness has decided to maintain neutrality in this, even though King Cedric of Temeria, and his advisors arranged a marriage proposal, for princess Sophia to his son, prince Griffin...Yet, King Robbin, declined the offer, and stated his neutrality in this conflict anyway...'.
'What about you witcher ? How would you solve this-', said Yoren before being interrupted.
'Witchers don't meddle in politics...', he added.
'Ah, I forgot you lot prefer neutrality as well...', Yoran continued, grinning.
'Alike your kind, here in Mahakam...', the witcher added. 'Stating your neutrality by accepting orders of weapons from Temeria, Lyria and Rivia.'.
'And what are we to do ? Decline the coin they offer ?', Yoran responded, laughing, while the other two smiled.
'Where were you heading before running into Nigel ?', asked Admir, puffing smoke.
'The southern hills of Rivia, maybe Toussaint.'.
'Toussaint. Been there a couple of years back...', said Levi. 'You wouldn't want to lose a high stakes game of cards in those parts, lad. They strip you bare of coin...'.
'You lost ?', asked the witcher.
Levi chuckled. 'Nay. I was the one that won.', he replied beating his chest.