Corrie's plans of simply passing through town are thwarted when she's informed that there are other, possibly more dangerous monsters lurking about. Her curiosity about the redheaded ranger who found her is not the reason she extending her stay...or is it?

I hate that it took me so long to post. I long for the "life is life" that I had warned of when I posted my first chapter. I hope to post chapters sooner than I had this one but my life has taken a turn and each day's goal is to simply hang on by the skin of my teeth.

Chapter Text

Corrie darted out of the heavy rain and into the small, roadside inn. Despite the help of the healer and the time spent recuperating, she still felt a twinge of pain beneath the fresh, jagged scar. As the door of the inn swung open, the overwhelming smell of beer and cloistered bodies assailed her.

Though it wasn't intolerably cold, a fire burned in the hearth intensifying the malodorous odor. Pushing the door closed behind her, she received little more than a glance or two until she lifted the hood of the woolen cloak to shake away the rain. A wave of silence swept over the tightly packed tables with exception of the few who were belligerently unaware of her presence. Corrie took in the room through her periphery and continued toward the bar pretending to pay them no mind at all.

While she knew that the greater number of those who turned their glares toward her were simply dogmatists, some were merely surprised by her sex. Not only had she been one of the very few to endure the trial of the grasses so well, she was also the only woman. Her brethren certainly faced their moments of rancor, but the intolerance Corrie encountered was of a different nature. Men, and even women who felt the need to tell her just how revolting her company would be, to those who openly and aggressively wondered at the experience. At least the others, not having her gold eyes and white hair could blend in when needed.

"Heard you killed that damned bloedzuiger," the barkeep said with a low growl, thudding a mug of beer down in front of her. The warm suds splashed over the rim leaving a dark ring when Corrie accepted. She could see he was studying her intently as his eyes narrowed beneath the thick caterpillar of an eyebrow, but at least he was being cordial.

"You knew about it?" Corrie asked, then downed half the mug's bitter contents, happy to have been offered anything at all.

He scoffed as though he took some offense. "Most the town did. We all knew he was feeding it those missing townsfolk, but what were we supposed to do about it?"

"Aaaaah." Came a raspy reply and Corrie spun to see a squat, robust woman, thick strands of graying hair falling down from the large knot on top of her head. She smelled heavily of pipe tobacco and potatoes. Corrie thought it a strange mixture. "Tholmas wasn't feeding people to that beast." She added with a wave of her hand.

"How do you know?" Corrie asked while simultaneously chastising herself for asking. This was only meant to be a short stop as she passed through, and she had already delayed long enough.

"For one, it's been what, three days and still, both the Monsac's boys disappeared just yesterday and miss Baily said her husband didn't come home last night." The potato smelling barmaid paused and looked her over. "I thought there were only male witchers."

Corrie sighed and downed the rest of the beer before sliding the empty mug back across the bar. "How did you hear I killed the bloedzuiger?"

"Small town. Word gets around." The barkeep said, waving away her coin. "Beer's on the house."

"Gonna give the freak a free beer?" A rumbling voice broke the reviving din of the room. "She should be run out of town, not rewarded."

Corrie gave the man a sidelong glance but chose to ignore his insult. She'd not engage goading and his paltry slurs mattered little. He advanced toward her though she turned her attention back to the barkeep to thank him for the free beer.

"Did you not hear me, freak?" The man interrupted. Corrie still refrained from action until he reached out with a large dirty hand and clasped her wrist.

"Take your filthy hands off me." She said plainly, her eyes not yet leaving the barkeep's.

The barkeep turned toward the aggressor. "Not today, Jakul. I'll not hesitate to throw you out into the rain."

"So you're going to protect this damned freak?" Jakul twisted Corrie's wrist upward.

Fine. Corrie struck out with the heel of her free hand, driving it into the man's nose with an upward arc. The bones cracked on impact and blood exploded down his worn leather vest. Jakul's portly chest racked with choking coughs, and he stumbled back, yanking Corrie from the stool.

The barkeep made to round the worktop, but before he could intervene Corrie kicked out with her left leg and Jakul's knee bent in a way that should not have been possible. With an inhuman scream, he fell to the floor clutching his nose though it did little to prevent the blood from dripping through his fingers.

Free, Corrie stepped back and looked around. Men like Jakul were rarely alone, but no one else advanced. Every eye, however sober or not watched her, wide and silent. Only the heavy pouring of rain remained prevalent.

"You, bitch!" Jakul roared and lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Corrie's legs, and sent her tumbling into the barmaid. She fought to keep her balance with one hand grasping the bar and the other pulling free her sword. The room seemed to gasp as one, but instead of the blade Corrie brought down the pummel and bashed it into the back of Jakul's head. With one hit, he slumped to the floor, motionless. Her eyes flicked to the barkeep in apology. His single eyebrow rose.

"A free beer to anyone who'll haul his ass out of here." The barkeep called out artlessly, breaking the silence. For a moment no one moved but soon two men stumbled forward evading Corrie's eyes with their own as they lifted Jakul and dragged him toward the door. Slowly the room began to breath again as the patrons turned back to their drinks and meals and conversations.

Sheathing her sword, Corrie turned to again thank the man, more than ready to find a new mount and get out of town.

"You know one of them missing turned up near my house." The barmaid continued, wholly unaffected by the encounter. "The one in the crook of the road near the big lake. He's the only one too…to turn up that is. His neck was all torn up an he had large gashes all over his body but his stomach, that was left untouched."

Curiosity killed the cat. Corrie thought to herself and gave her a look to urge her on. Though she understood the implications, the woman was suggesting.

"You mean you don't get it? Some monster hunter you are. All of em but that one completely vanished, not a corpse to speak of. A bloedzuiger doesn't eat a whole person. It likes the middle." She added the last as she poked her round belly.

Corrie nodded but she wasn't sure if the woman caught on to her concurrence. "You think the one you found was a fluke?" She asked.

"Yea. I didn't find it though. That ranger who lives in the woods did."

Corrie's eyes narrowed. Was she speaking of the one who had found her?

"If not the bloedzuiger, then what do you think happened to the others?" The barkeep asked, rejoining the conversation after refilling a few mugs at the end of the bar.

"Hell if I know. That'd be her job, wouldn't it?" The woman said then hurried away, her dress swaying at her feet as she waddled.

"Not my job unless someone pays me for it." Corrie added with a sigh.

"If you find out, I'd wager Monsac would reward you plenty for the information. You can find that ranger north of the old witch's hut. The one that saved your skin. You'd be wise to take care with that ranger though. He's a mighty good archer and word is he detests witchers."

Corrie couldn't fight her curiosity. If it was the one that had found her, why would he take her to the healer if he hated her kind?

She shrugged gave a few taps on the bar with her thanks and made for the door. Maybe she would stay, at least long enough to see how much coin Monsac would offer.