Chapter 3


'Heed my words, those whose eyes read this book. Take care when you deal with the witcher man for they are trixie and devilishly false. Try everything else before you hire a witcher man and be clear in your words. Many a fellow has been misled by a witcher man who thought they meant one thing, only for the witcher man to mean another and demand payment regardless. They will twist your words and make you doubt your sanity for they are the work of the devil, and their eyes can muddle your thinking.'

Extract from the book 'monsters are amongst us' penned by the scribe Randolf Guttenheim


"We shouldn't have done this, Sem…this was a terrible idea. Mother is going to kill us."

At first, the darkness of the forest hadn't seemed particularly frightening and was more of an inconvenience than anything to fear. It only seemed like a few minutes ago that Sem and Koen had decided to drop their tools in the wheat field and find something far more interesting to do. They had planned the adventure for the last few days, ever since their mother, Henna, had scolded them both for being lazy boys who wanted to do nothing more than sit around and play dice all day. Their mother had slapped them about a bit to try and motivate them, but all it had achieved was to make them even less interested in farming and spending hours in the cold sun. That night lying close to each other in bed, their hands aching with cuts and sores from the days toil pulling weeds, they listened to the quiet snoring of their mother occasionally interrupted with a soulful inhuman howl from the forest, and planned the escape.

Everyone in the village was terrified of the forest to the north, and they gave it all kinds of silly names. Old Fenna called it the red forest and Dika, the blacksmith, said it was called the pilgrims' shade. When pressed, Dika had once told them both a scary story over his blazing forge about a pilgrim visiting from the south. The pilgrim had believed there was an ancient shrine to Lebioda in the forest and that he could find a bone of the prophet in a golden box buried under the shrine. The pilgrim had ventured into the forests but had never returned, having died trying to find the box. He was so aggrieved at his failure he had never been able to find peace and move on from the world, so the shade of the pilgrim now haunted the forest, stalking victims and demanding they show him the shrine. When they inevitably failed to do so, he killed them and hung their husks from the trees while the souls of the murdered joined him in his impossible quest.

Dika had gone on to tell them, as they sat there quivering with fear, that there were now over thirty shades in the forest, many of them little children that had thought they knew better than their elders and had not listened to the warnings to stay away.

Koen shivered as he vividly remembered the way that the forge cast horrible light on the gnarled face of Dika, his thick black beard and deep sunken eyes giving him the impression of a devil reciting a tale from a terrible book. Lost, cold and frightened as the brothers now were, it didn't seem like Dika's tale was such a ghost story. It appeared that Dika was telling the truth.

"This was a terrible idea brother" Koen repeated.

"Yes, Koen!" Sem snapped. I know it was a bad idea! You don't need to keep telling me!"

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I thought the path back there was the same one we entered on" Sem replied, pointing back towards the barely visible track a few feet away. "But it's not. It's different, and I don't recognise it".

Koen looked up into the canopy of the forest and shivered. The tree cover was so thick that it was impossible to see the sun and judge in which direction they might be heading. He could barely make out the sky in between the leaves, and it was turning a horrible shade of black which meant that the evening had arrived and they had been lost for at least half a day. Everything in the forest felt like it was sucking him dry. He was thirsty, exhausted, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He knew his brother well enough to know that Sem was in the same condition, but would never admit it.

"We should go back to the track and follow it the other way I reckon" Sem snapped. "Wherever it leads has got to be better than here".

Koen yawned and nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"We can't go to sleep yet, brother!" Sem scolded him. He paced over the grabbed Koen by the shoulders, shaking him in an attempt to keep him awake. "We need to get home!"

Koen shrugged him off. "OK, let's go…"

The brothers slowly made their way down to the track, and Koen dutifully followed his elder brothers lead, keeping right behind him as they started to follow the path. He often found himself fading out and struggling to focus but the sight of Sem right in front of him, at touching distance, comforted him. It wasn't long before the surroundings became wholly black and Sem suddenly ground to a halt, causing his brother to collide into the back of him with a curse.

"That's it; I can't see anything, we can't go any further now."

"Let's find somewhere to rest out the night if we can."

Sem nodded and grabbed his brother by his arm so that he couldn't lose him. They stumbled their way off the track and into the cover of a large hollow oak tree where they both cuddled up and wrapped their thin clothing around themselves as best they could.

"I'm scared Sem" Koen mumbled after a few moments of utter darkness and silence.

"So am I" his brother replied weakly.

Sem looked out over what he believed to be the forest, but he could see nothing other than a pure black wall. He could make out no details at all, and everything simply seemed to have merged, creating an impenetrable barrier.

After what seemed like hours he finally spotted a sickly coloured haze appearing some distance away. The fog of green and yellow highlighted in blue slowly grew in clarity, and he watched as it weaved its way through through the forest. As it approached trees or bushes, they were gently lit in turn by in its horrible glow.

"Can you see that?" Koen squeaked.

"Yes. I can"

The boys began to shake even harder.

Now terrified, they watched as the apparition continued to grow in size as it approached. They could now clearly see the outline of a thin, pale man hovering above the ground, one of his skinny hands clutching a decrepit looking book and the other a damaged sword. The monster was searching slowly, and the boys could hear the low wailing that it made as it wove its way between the twisted, horrible trees and undergrowth.

Sem, the elder brother, who had always believed himself the bravest of the pair, finally wet himself in terror.


The first had gone well, very well indeed.

As he had predicted, the immediate response from the palace had been complete, and everything he had hoped. The fact that the head had managed to be placed so close to the king, under the very eyes of his guard's none the less, had spread panic and fear like wildfire amongst the council. The lockdown of the port had sowed confusion amongst the merchants, ships captains and traders and it had already started to cause rumours of everything from the plague to foul sorcery at work.

He crossed the room and spun his sumptuous dark grey cloak around his shoulders in one swift motion. As he readied himself to leave, he performed a final check in his mirror and lifted the cloak's hood, plunging his face into almost total shadow. A quick pat-down of his chest and belt confirmed that he had everything he needed and was ready to enact the second phase of his plan.

Finally satisfied, the figure moved to the large bay windows of his room and smiled as he saw that it had begun to snow slightly.

'Such a pretty night to sow terror' he thought to himself as he opened the windows, stepped on to the ledge outside and disappeared like a ghost into the night.


Mina woke with a start. Her head was pounding, and her mouth was dry, but her eyes had stopped dancing and wobbling as they had been hours before. The bitter and nauseous taste of bile and vomit in her mouth and nose made her gag.

After many attempts, she managed to slowly get to her feet and remain there. A quick look at the window told her that she had been asleep the entire day and it was now dark. She hoped that she had only been passed out for a few hours at most as it wouldn't have been the first time she had woken from a fisstech and cheap alcohol binge to find that she had 'lost' more.

Water. Food. She needed to drink and eat. She always felt better after that. Then she required customers for more coin. And more fisstech.

Mina stumbled over to her bed and slowly began to peel away the stained clothing she wore. Her legs were severely bruised, but she didn't remember how that had happened. It took some time as her coordination was still utterly shot, but she eventually managed to undress and wash with the pale of water she found outside of her room, courtesy of the landlady. She didn't own many sets of clothing, but she slipped into her most revealing short dress and, after a little fussing with her hair she picked up the belt pouch containing the coin she had managed to steal from the walrus and what remained of her batch of fisstech.

Very unsteadily, being as she was still half baked on drugs and vodka, Mina opened her room door and wobbled out into the world.


Every time his mare's hooves struck the ground was exquisite agony. His lower back felt like it was being hit with a blacksmiths hammer, sending pulses of blinding pain up his spine and into his eyes. He felt nauseous and dizzy, barely able to stay on the horse as he moaned quietly to himself, not wanting to let his fellow traveller know how much pain he was in.

Bram gazed over at the witcher sitting proudly on the back of his bay horse. Like Luuk has said, he was an imposing figure with his grey-white hair tied into a ponytail and short on the sides. Up close, the scars on his face were intimidating and his eyes…well…his eyes were terrifying. No human should ever have eyes like that.

The witcher realised that Bram was looking at him though he had no idea how the man hadn't taken his eyes from the road ahead.

"How is the arse?"

"Fine" Bram squeaked.

"Hmmm," Geralt replied. "How much further to the village?"

Bram raised his head slightly and managed to make out the large mound the villagers called vagabonds hill despite the darkness of the evening. That was a good sign as it meant they were only an hour or so away. "We are close witcher. That hill over yonder is called vagabonds hill, and if you head west from there we will come to the village within the hour, you may even be able to see if from the hill if they have a fire going in the village square."

The witcher grunted in response.

"I will show you the forest once we reach Margrat and you can set off from there."

Geralt turned his head slowly and stared coldly at Bram. "You misunderstand me boy. I won't be hunting tonight."

"But you promised to rescue them!"

"No, remember your words to me. I accepted your contract to kill whatever is in that forest that is haunting it. You told me that the children have been missing since midday. If that forest is as haunted as you say it is then trust me, they wouldn't have lasted more than a few hours at most. If they have survived this long alone, then they will survive till the morning. I will make the forest safe for you and your village folk to find your children and return them home".

Bram remained quiet while he pondered the witchers words.

"It is almost midnight, and that is the worst time to hunt anything dead. When we get to the village, I will rest for a few hours, and I will begin the hunt at dawn, just as the light is cresting the horizon. I will track down the source of the disappearances and, if possible, kill it."

"And the children?"

"If I encounter them alive, I will show them the way back to the village. If they are dead, I will mark the location of the bodies. You will be able to collect them after I finish. Either way, they will be returned to you."

"And if you fail?"

Geralt smiled a wolfish grin. "It's an occupational hazard…"


Knowing roughly where they were heading had helped speed up the patrol, cutting down what could have been a week's worth of false leads and sighting to an almost precise location. Captain Reinard didn't recognise the name of the village that Triss had provided but one of the patrols knights, a man whose parents lived in New Hallow, knew the rough location of the village they called Magrat. Under her insistence, the patrol had stopped a few hours before in a small hamlet so that Triss could use hydromancy on the water lifted from the little well. She had managed to locate Geralt's rough position but was very confused by the reading. According to the locations that she saw in the reflections Geralt had visited a sizeable solitary oak tree, then moved to a well-fortified village and finally doubled back on his logical direction of travel towards Magrat, to which they were now heading.

"M'lady, we must stop at some point to rest the mounts, eat and refresh ourselves. It is almost midnight" Reinard stated as he pulled up beside her on his horse. "We are but a few hours away from the village of Old Hallow, but I will not jeopardise the horses."

"I understand, captain" Triss replied. "Where do you suggest?"

"My scout has reported a couple of houses not far ahead. We can overnight there and carry on at daybreak?"

"Good plan. I concur."

The captain nodded, wheeled his horse around deftly to take up the lead and Triss found herself again surrounded by the other knights that might as well have been mutes. She felt safe amongst them but also incredibly bored and not for the first time since they set off she promised herself that she needed to ride Snowdrop more. Her back was aching furiously.

They carried on in silence for some time, and Triss was forced to pull her cloak tighter as it began to softly snow. She shivered slightly and raised her heating spell some more with a quick flick of her fingers and was glad that the benefit was immediate.

"Not long now gentleman" she added, trying to lift the mood. "I am sure this will pass shortly."

"M'lady, with respect, this is Kovir. The snow never passes shortly" one of the knights to her right grunted.

Triss smiled at his pessimism. "And may I add that I am glad to be out on this cold, dark, snowy night with such excellent and positive company to keep me entertained…" she responded sarcastically.

The knight mumbled under his breath. Triss didn't care to listen to what he was saying, but she guessed it was about her and that it wasn't pleasant.

From the head of the patrol, she could hear Reinard laughing.


They reached the village in less than an hour, as Bram had predicted, and even though it was now past midnight, many of the townsfolk were awake and watching the road. Someone must have alerted the village elders because Geralt was met by a large, portly woman with incredibly deep wrinkles. He had seen smaller fissures on a stone trolls backside than the ones she wore on her face, and it was clear to the witcher that age and weather had not been at all kind to her.

"Welcome to Margrat witcher man."

Geralt nodded slowly and stayed mounted while Bram all but fell from his horse and hit the ground with a wet thump and a curse. "You will need to see to him. He nearly killed his horse catching up to me and, judging by the groans he has been making on the way here, and I doubt he will be able to sit on anything for a while".

"I'm fine!" Bram grunted as he tried to stand up. "My back is just a bit sore."

"There is a reason we have saddles, lad" Geralt joked at the boy's expense.

Fenna pointed to Bram, and a couple of the townsman dutifully dragged him away to be cared for. He protested his health until he was shoved into a nearby house.

Geralt observed the small village. It looked exactly like everyone he had ridden through in the last five days, being as it was small, dirty and entirely geared towards farming. The mines were in the mountains, and every village near the mines supplied them with the workforce. The lands around the capitals were tasked with one thing and one thing only, food production. Someone needed to feed the miners, and this was how it was done.

He dismounted slowly and stroked Roach's mane. She was tired after a full day ride but, as always, was patient with him.

"I see you have your coin witcher," the old woman said as she noticed the coin pouch hanging from his belt. "And I assume Bram has explained our predicament."

"I have…and he has."

"And you are to set off now?"

"No, first I will eat, then rest and I will hunt at daybreak."

Fenna nodded slowly in response. "As you wish. I am the village elder here, and you may call me Fenna. Follow me to the tavern please and I will find you something to eat. You may sleep in the stable with your horse".

"Thank you."

Fenna turned and began to lead Geralt through the village, towards the tavern. She was aware of eyes watching her and the witcher from every door and window. "I may know something, but much of it is rumour and myth. In the meantime, I will feed you, and I will let you sleep, but there is one other thing I must ask of you…"

"I'm listening."

"We are a pious and close-knit village, and your kind have…reputation"

"Fear not elder" Geralt replied flatly. "I have no intent on ploughing your women, killing your men, curdling your milk or cursing your livestock".

"Good. And if you would be so kind witcher, when you have finished here…"

"Get the fuck out of your village?"

"You took the words right out of my mouth…"


Mina almost fell over twice within a few steps of making it on to the street, but she managed to somehow grab hold of something to steady herself and regain balance each time.

"Fucking hell" he growled angrily to herself. "I'm not doing this ever again".

Staggering into what she felt was something akin to walking, but would have looked like a lurch to anyone watching, she made her way slowly down the alleys and eventually into the pits. As she stepped out from the overhanging cover of the tightly packed buildings, she became suddenly aware of the soft snow covering the cobbles.

"Great, because I wasn't already struggling" she moaned to herself. As she walked through the snow, she immediately regretted her choice of clothing and attire. The snow soaked her thin shoes, and it wasn't long before her toes and lower legs, entirely unprotected, were freezing. She soldiered on, keeping to the cover of the buildings and doing her best to avoid any more snow patches.

After what seemed like an age she managed to make it to copper street, the street that marked the outskirts of the pits from the north, and she stopped to try and regain her composure. The pits were not somewhere you went if you didn't have your wits about you. Once she felt slightly more confident, she headed to the square.

Despite the curfew Mina was comforted to see that the pits were, as usual, sticking a middle finger up to the law. Around the square, numerous stores were still open, despite the late hour, and it didn't take long for her to purchase a small loaf of hard bread, a few nibbles of sharp cheese and a bottle of weak, bitter ale. She managed to find a sheltered spot amongst the stalls and devoured her food as fast as she could stomach.

"Hey girl, I've not seen you around here for a while."

Mina stopped munching and smiled at the she-elf who approached her. "I'm glad to see you too, Sinda".

"You're back on the game?"

Mina nodded slowly. "Turns out I'm not suited for working indoors."

Sinda chuckled and sat next to her on an overturned barrel. Mina felt the jealousy she felt for Sinda rise again but managed to force it out of her mind. Sinda was an elf, beautifully proportioned and graceful in a way she could never have hoped to achieve. While she was slim and reasonably pretty, she simply paled in comparison to Sinda and to try and compare herself to the elf was like trying to compare a candle to the sun. Sinda had a figure to die for, and despite working the streets like any other prostitute, she remained aloof and a step apart from the humans. While not every man would be interested in the taste of elf flesh, there were still plenty out there that had worked through the vast selection of fetishes available to them on the streets of Kovir and eventually found themselves on top of or under Sinda. For this reason, the elf could command a price that was simply eye-watering, but the clientele always managed to find the coin.

"Eat up, child," Sinda told her. "I will work with you tonight and split the profits. Call it a birthday present".

"It's not my birthday" Minda replied confused.

"Let's just say it's your hoars birthday then, the day you were born to the streets again."

Mina grimaced but thanked Sinda regardless. She would take home far more than Mina could for a nights work and her offer to split the profits was exceptionally kind. It was too good an offer to turn down.

"Where are you working from tonight?"

"Green alley. I've had a lot of success there over the last few weeks".

Mina downed the last of the bitter ale and threw the bottle away into the dark. "Let's go" she sighed.


As promised, the sun was just threatening to rise when Geralt met Fenna and a small group of villagers at the door to the tavern. He noticed how they all looked tense and on edge, clearly frustrated by his presence and the fact that he hadn't already started the task hed been paid for. A large, stocky man, taller by half a head than himself, who sported a thick black beard and muscled forearms stepped forward as he approached. He was carrying a vicious looking pitchfork and an ugly shortsword secured by his belt. The other men were similarly armed.

"My name is Dika, the village…"

"Blacksmith" Geralt finished his sentence for him.

"Indeed" Dika responded menacingly. "I will show you the way to the forest now."

Geralt nodded and mounted Roach. "And your friends?" he gestured towards the small group.

"They will be accompanying us. We will wait on the edge of the forest until you come back out. If you succeed in your task, we will collect the children, dead or alive."

"Very well, Dika. Let us make haste. I am eager to begin."

The blacksmith stepped around Roach and began to walk ahead of Geralt who urged Roach to follow the man.

"I ask you kindly to keep your pitchforks at a respectable distance."

"And why would that be witcher?" one of the men responded as he caught up. "Not afraid of a farming tool, are you?"

"It's a long story…"

The small group reached the edge of the forests in a quarter of an hour and Geralt dismounted at a safe distance. The forests were far more extensive than he had anticipated and rose out of the well-tended fields like a fortress palisade. The forest was dense, incredibly so, and the light seemed to be simply smothered by it, and he could not see further than a few paces into the gloom. It appeared from the outside that the forest was a mixture of deciduous trees and Geralt could spot oak, pine and maple amongst them, but they were…wrong. No tree he had ever seen looked so sick and was still living.

If he had any doubts before about the nature of the threat he faced, he now dismissed them. The forest was definitely haunted.

"Well, what do you think witcher?" Dika asked as he stood patiently at the edge of the forest.

Geralt cast his eyes over the trees again and then at Dika. "This is an old forest. An ancient forest. I have seen it like in many places in the world, and powerful and grave monsters haunted all of them. I expect this one is no different. We may already be too late, and the odds are not good that the children are still alive. I want you to know that before I enter."

"We understand" the blacksmith responded, gripping the shaft of his pitchfork tighter and spitting on the ground.

"Good. I will leave my horse here as I can't take her into the forest with me. Roach will be happy for you to leave her alone and she will need no tending while I am gone. I shall return before sunset and let you know the outcome of the hunt. If you value your life, do not enter the forest until I return."

"Very well. We will do as you wish."

The group watched as the witcher opened one of the small pouches he wore on the leather strap that crossed his chest and removed a thin glass vial of green liquid. He popped the cork and swallowed it in a single gulp. A moment later, he shook violently and gasped for breath before quickly regaining control. When he looked at them again, they were shocked to see his eyes were entirely onyx black and they all, subconsciously, took a step back as he swiftly drew a silver sword from the scabbard over his shoulder with a speed that should be impossible.

"And one other thing" Geralt warned as he started towards the forest. "If I get back and find that Roach or any of my equipment is missing. You will all be my next hunt".

Dika liked to think himself brave and that a lifetime of forging metal and fighting in the king's army had hardened him both body and soul. He had seen things on the battlefield that would destroy the courage of any man, and he had never succumbed to them. But now, seeing the white-haired witcher with eyes of black and a sword of pure silver striding into the forest of demons without an ounce of hesitation, he knew what fear was, and he couldn't help but shudder.

"Lebiodas balls" one of the other men spurted as the witcher disappeared into the gloom. "Like I would ever touch his horse. I don't know who I am more afraid of, the forest or that demon in human skin we have paid to aid us".

"Aint that the truth" one of the others replied.

Dika slowly sat down on a tree stump and withdrew his sword, laying it flat across his lap. The sun was now peeking over the horizon, bathing everything in an orange hue and he took a moment to steady himself. After a moment of reflection, he decided to take a long draw of his water sack he had thankfully filled with wine to steady his nerves.

"Aint that the truth" he whispered to himself.


Triss was riding at the head of the patrol alongside Reinard as their scout returned with an update. The patrol had set off only an hour ago having overnighted at the small group of houses, too small even to refer to as a hamlet. She mused to herself how excellent the shortstop had been and how even though they were thoroughly surprised at first as a fully armoured patrol of the kings own guard suddenly turned up and requested a roof over their heads, the homeowners had been nothing but helpful and respectful. The headman of the houses had once been a guard in the palace and therefore couldn't have been more courteous and gracious if had tried. Reinard had taken to the man immediately, and they shared a few stories before he finally fell asleep in the stable with his men. Triss was happy to do the same, having slept many times in her life is far less comfortable situations, but the headman and his wife had insisted on her taking the bed of their daughter who was away at the time. Triss couldn't refuse, and the thought of a warm bed after a full day's ride in the cold was too good to resist.

In the morning, they had parted ways, but she ensured that the families that had supported their short stay were well compensated in coin. As a token of goodwill Reinard even gifted the headman with a steel sword, he carried as a spare on the back of his horse. The man was so grateful he nearly cried, and his wife did shed tears of joy when Triss spent a few moments casting a healing spell on her arthritic legs to help soothe them.

All in all, an excellent memory to add to the collection.

"Magrat is up ahead captain. Shouldn't be more than an hours ride now."

"Thank you, Johannes" Reinard replied.

"I must say I am looking forward to meeting this witcher of yours" he added when the scout had left earshot.

"I fear the feeling won't be reciprocated captain" Triss sighed back. "Geralt can be quite…unwelcoming at times."

"We shall see."

"We shall see" she replied.