NOTICE: So about that one chapter every other week... I was suddenly hit with an urge to write. Fate has smiled on me. While on the road, I came across a cart full of writing supplies (and the body of its owner next to it). It seems that I no longer have reason to visit the farm I mentioned in my last posting. Alas, as much as the tales of two-legged livestock intrigued me, the Pearl of the North –Novigrad beckons me. Though first I must cross the Pontar. Let's hope the Redanians don't give me much grief.
"_"- Speech
'_'- Inner thoughts
[_] – Tier Spells/ Skills/ Martial Arts
{_} – Signs and Magic
2nd HUNT: The Wolf, The Viper and The Raven Black
"We may have just seen a legend∙∙∙ The Dark Warrior∙∙∙ No, the Dark Hero∙∙∙"
attributed to a cemetery guard from E-Rantel
The quickest way to get to Crow's Perch from the swamp was the road passing through the village of Lindenvale. However, the witcher had decided on a different path. The Crones' words had left an easy feeling within Geralt. 'Blood will flow once more.´ Just to be sure the monster-slayer was currently heading down the road to Downwarren. Instead of cutting through the small forest standing between the two neighboring villages like the one leading to Lindenvale, it swung around the woods. Ultimately, both connected with the path to the Baron's castle.
Geralt knew time was of the essence but he couldn't shake the feeling that whatever it was he had released from the tree wouldn't just leave the village alone. Hopefully his worries were unfounded and this detour would prove to have been unwarranted. Just a memory to laugh at with Ciri, once he had found her. The witcher wondered what stories from her travels she would have to share. Yet, it was not meant to be.
The first sign of trouble was a nervous neigh from Roach. The animal had stopped and refused to go any further. The second was the green glow that hung in the sky above the village. The third and final one – the smell of blood and smoke that wafted on the wind.
Geralt got off his horse and began rummaging through his saddlebags. After a bit, he pulled out several bottles. Without a sound the witcher popped two open, drew his silver sword and poured one's contents down the length of the blade. He then took a swing from the other. Specter oil and Petri's Philter. Geralt returned the empty bottles to his saddlebags and secured the remaining four to his belt. Their red color betraying the potion's identity – Swallow. After a quick cast of {Quen}, the witcher raced for Downwarren.
The sight that greeted him was a grim one. The only thing that remained from the once quaint huts was charred ruins. The corpses of villagers littered the ground. Wraiths danced in the air, their otherworldly glow painting the charnel pit in a sickly hue of green. Bone-chilling cries alerted the witcher that the monsters had noticed his presence.
The first two specters rushed at Geralt, their swords flailing around wildly. The witcher managed to dodge a strike from one but the second proved too fast and broke through his guard. Thankfully, the sign held and the wraith's blade bounced off the monster-slayer harmlessly. In turn Geralt responded with a flurry of strikes, killing both. Just as the witcher was about to move forward to meet the rest head-on, a wraith suddenly appeared behind him. Caught off-guard, Geralt could do naught but grit his teeth as the ghost's sword drew blood. A brutal backhand from the witcher sent it back and away from him, the silver spikes on Geralt's gloves further adding to the strike.
Before the monster could collect its bearing, the White Wolf was upon it, bisecting the specter with his blade. The witcher threw a glance at his back. The cut didn't look too bad but it would slow him down. He took one of the Swallows from his belt and downed it, throwing the bottle away. The wound was still there and would be for a few days but at least the potion would staunch the bleeding.
Three wraiths remained. In order to prevent further attacks from the rear and even the odds, the now slowed witcher placed down a {Yrden} trap. It would prevent the spirits from teleporting and make their movements sluggish. That proved enough for the experienced witcher to deal with the remaining specters without any more problems.
As soon as the last wraith disappeared into a green mist, the area seemed to brighten. Still, Geralt refused to let his guard down as he surveyed his surroundings. Only once he had made sure that nothing else was lurking nearby did the witcher finally sheath his silver sword.
He then walked to one of the corpses in order to examine it. He recognized the man as the one who had pointed out the ealdorman for him. His throat had been slit. A trail of blood led Geralt to the man's murderer, a woman. Clutching a blood-stained knife, she had an axe sticking out of her back. 'They slaughtered each other.' That was the conclusion the witcher came to.
Yet the last time he had come through, nothing had seemed out of the ordinary. There could be no explanation for the massacre…none, except for one. The spirit in the tree. 'Blood will flow once more.´ The Crones' words had proven true. And he was responsible for it. Geralt suddenly felt his strength leave him. It seemed to him like all the corpses were looking at him, glaring. The body of a small child caught his eye. Her head had been smashed in with a hammer. Clutched in her hands was a straw doll. Similar scenes could be seen all over the village.
"I am sorry." Was all the witcher could say. As if it would change anything. All he could do now was burn the bodies, lest they attract necrophages. 'Blood will flow once more.' repeating in his head as he set to doing his grim task.
"This world doesn't need a hero, it needs a professional."
There was no grand ritual, no pyres or rites. The witcher had hastily amassed the bodies into piles and set fire to them with {Igni}. At first he had considered making a small pyre but with him being pressed for time, the idea had been rejected. Still, gathering all the corpses had taken a bit of time. By the time he was finished, the sun had passed its zenith. By Geralt's estimates it was the early afternoon. Time he was off.
After checking his map, the witcher took note of something he had missed when originally planning his route. The path he wanted to take passed straight through an abandoned manor. "Reardon Manor huh…" No matter. He was behind schedule as it was. Worst case scenario and a monster lived there, he would simply calm Roach down with {Axii} and gallop away.
The abandoned manor soon came into view. At a first glance it there was nothing out of the ordinary. At a first glance. With his superior sense of hearing Geralt pick up on an unusual sound. The sound of clashing steel. 'What now?!' The sound of battle was coming from the other side of what looked like a stable. The moment the witcher turned the core, he was greeted with a bizarre scene.
A nilfgaardian knight was fighting with – "Letho?!" There was no mistaking the bald witcher. 'Who did he piss off THIS time?'
Geralt wasted no time in jumping off of Roach, drawing his steel and charging at the Black One. However, before he could reach his target he was hit with the smell of ozone. Widening his eyes, the witcher dodged back. And not a moment too soon as a bolt of lightning passed a meter or so in front of him. Exactly where he would have been had he continued his charge. Turning in the direction the bolt had come from Geralt spotted a cloaked woman, standing next to a pile of… disarmed traps? What was more concerning was the electricity running down her outstretched arm. 'Why is it sorceresses every time…'
"Not another step wor-"
Whatever it was she was about to say was cut off by a sudden blast. It seemed Letho had grown tired of fighting fair and had jumped straight to using bombs. The explosion had kicked up a dust cloud, making it impossible to see what exactly had happened but Geralt was confident in Letho's abilities. So one could imagine his surprise when the aforementioned witcher came flying out of the cloud, crashed into the doors of the stable, proceeded to go through them and disappeared into the structure.
The reason for the Viper's impromptu flight soon became clear. The dust settled just in time for Geralt to see the knight lower his foot. 'A kick…did that!?' Now that he got a better look at the armored man he realized he was giant. Geralt considered himself to be fairly tall but this man put him to shame. He was more akin to a mountain of black metal.
And what armor it was. Geralt had seen his fair share of armors, even having had the privilege to see the ones of several knights-errant during his time in Toussaint, but this one put them all to shame. This was not the armor of some no-name knight. The first thing that came to mind was 'exquisite'. The suit's various pieces ended in jagged edges covered in gold, contrasting nicely with the black plates. Its large pauldrons and bulky elbow guards setting it apart from anything Geralt had seen before. From the knight's shoulders hung a long cape the color of fresh blood. The man wore a visored helm, revealing nothing as to his identity. Truly, it was more similar to a work of art than a piece of protective of equipment. Yet, judging by the lack of damage from the bomb on it, it did its job splendidly.
But that wasn't what drew Geralt's attention. No, it was the knight's choice of weapons that stuck out. In his hands was a pair of swords the same color as his plate, similar to those used by executioners, only these ones were the size of claymores. The strength needed to wield even one of the blades, let alone two at the same time, was mind boggling. For a brief moment the witcher wondered if there wasn't a rock troll under the armor.
The witcher's train of thought was interrupted by another lightning bolt courtesy of the cloaked sorceress. Dodging to the side, he threw out an {Axii} to confuse the woman. To his surprise the sign seemed to do nothing. The sound of heavy footsteps behind him alerted Geralt to the incoming threat. Rolling out of the way just in time as a black greatsword slammed into the spot he had been a moment ago.
Getting to his feet the witcher felt his gaze meet the dark knight's through his visor. There was an almost imperceptible shift in the armored man's posture. He recognized the witcher.
"Wait, you ar-"But that was as far as he got. The ground beneath their feet began shaking. The sudden quake seemed to have caught the knight unprepared as he lost his balance. For a moment it seemed like he would recover but an {Aard} from Geralt sent him down on his back. The witcher noted that the moment the force wave had connected with the Black One, his companion had dispelled the electricity and rushed to the fallen man's side. It had bought him but a spare moment, as he could already see the armor getting back to its feet, but that was all he needed.
Geralt rushed into the stable Letho had been kicked in and slammed shut the now broken doors. There was a massive hole from where his fellow witcher had crashed through but they would have to do. A quick {Quen} to lock them in place and he was off to check on the Viper.
He found the former assassin sprawled out in some hay. It seemed the impact with the doors had knocked him out but otherwise he looked relatively fine. A few pushes and prods were all it took to wake him up.
"Must have pissed off someone up there if you are what greets me in the afterlife." Murmured Letho.
"Rest assured you too ain't exactly my first pick." Immediately came Geralt's reply.
"It's good to see you Wolf."
"Same. But I feel like you owe me an explanation. Why are there a golem-like knight and a sorceress after you?"
"Come on Geralt, I am an uncomfortable witness to several high profile assassinations, you really think the emperor would just let me live?"
"How did they even know where you were? This place isn't exactly common knowledge, hell I only happened across it by chance."
"Seems I was sold out."
"Care to elaborate?"
"No."
For a few seconds there was silence between the two witchers. Then Geralt asked "Are there any other ways out of the stables? "
"A window up top but I doubt the lightning cunt would let us leave through it."
"It would still give us a better picture of what is happening outside than sitting here on our hands."
"Fine, help me up."
Not long after the two had relocated to the window. Their bodies hidden from view but positioned in such a way they could clearly see the goings on outside. It looked like they weren't the only ones having a little team meeting. The nilfgaardian and the sorceress had huddled a ways from the stable and seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.
Suddenly the knight pulled out a white sheet from…somewhere and began making his way over to the stable. Though the witchers could easily jump down on him with their steel drawn, the woman's cold glare promised only pain and suffering should they choose that course of action. Even from far away the duo could feel its frigidness. The knight stopped a couple of meters away from the witchers' hiding place. From beneath his helm came a deep, noble voice.
"I wish to talk. I believe there has been a misunderstanding. I mean you no harm."
"Funny way to show that, given you and your friend nearly killed us." Responded Geralt. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Letho preparing a dimeritium bomb to throw at the sorceress if things went south. Having rushed into battle, Geralt had only the Swallows on him but the Viper had shared some of his stashed Thunderbolt potions with him. The two hoped that, hopped-up on potions, they could take down the knight should the situation escalate.
"Believe me if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be here speaking. Besides, this whole fight could have been avoided had your friend not attacked unprovoked."
"Don't waste your breath nilfgaardian. What other reason could you have coming here, other than to collect my head for Emhyr? Spare us the bullshit." Came Letho's biting remark.
"Nilfgaardian?" For a moment it seemed the knight had no clue what they were talking about. Then, after looking down at his jet-black suit of armor, he seemed to have an epiphany. "Ah, I see how my gear might have caused some confusion but I assure you I am no imperial. Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Momon."
"Alright then Momon, say we believe you, that still doesn't explain why a knight such as yourself would be creeping around old abandoned manors."
"An old woman in Lindenvale asked me to clear the monsters that had taken over her old manor. Yet when we arrived there were none here and the place was full of traps. Then your friend jumped down and attacked."
Geralt threw a glance at the other witcher. It was clear Letho wasn't buying it.
"You can't expect us to believe that malarkey. Now if we are done with conversations, let's-"
"I can vouch for him." Geralt said.
"What?"
"You can?"
It seemed his sudden words had caught both witcher and knight off-guard. Geralt had indeed met such a woman in Lindenvale but sadly had refused the job. Still better safe than sorry. He decided to test the fake nilfgaardian.
"Before I do that, first I want to check something with Sir Momon. What was the woman's name?"
For a brief moment there was silence. The knight's black armor stood completely still in the afternoon sun. Just as the witchers were starting to get antsy, the man spoke.
"If I remember correctly, it was Delores."
"It's alright Letho. His story checks out."
A sudden weight lifted off the witchers shoulders. The two of them stepped out from their hiding spot and proceeded to jump down. They were still suspicious of the strange duo and would keep their guard up but at least it seemed a fight wasn't likely to break out at any moment.
"Guess we should introduce ourselves too. Geralt of Rivia, witcher."
"Letho of Gulet."
"As I said I am Momon," the man placed a hand on his chest plate "and my companion here is called Nabe." He then indicated to the sorceress who had begun approaching the group. "I hope there won't be any more surprises today, those fire traps nearly singed my mounts fur." The last part was addressed towards the Viper.
"Sorry about that. Guess I was little jumpy. Speaking of which where did that thing you rode in on get off to?" Letho apologizing, the world really had gone crazy. But another bit of the conversation stood out to the Wolf.
"Thing?" The topic had peaked Geralt's interest but before he could ask any more questions, he picked up on an unusual sound coming from east of the manor. It appeared Letho had also noticed it. The sound of horses' hooves. A lot of them.
"A group of riders approach fast from the east. We should get ready for them." But despite the prospect of facing many possible enemies at the same time, the knight and the sorceress showed no reaction. Then Momon spoke calmly as if he hadn't just been told they would soon be outnumbered.
"From the east you say? Then I wouldn't worry about them. My… mount…," the word seemed to cause physical pain to the man," will deal with them."
'What would a horse do in this situation?' Just as Geralt was about to protest he noticed something. The words had seemed to convince Letho. There was more to this "mount" than first met the eye.
It wasn't long before the clatter of horses gave way to something much more disturbing. The screams of men. The witcher could also distinguish a 'whooshing' sound, like something long was moving fast through the air. As abruptly as they had begun, the cries stopped.
"It seems Hamsuke has taken care of our uninvited guests. Nabe, call her over."
"Yes, mister Momon."
The sorceress then hastily left in the direction of the screams. For a few brief moments she disappeared between two ruined buildings and then returned to her place next to the knight's large frame. Soon heavy footfalls could be heard approaching the manor. Geralt wondered what sort of beast would show up. 'A griffin or maybe a fiend?' With how weird this whole encounter was he wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to be a draconid. Yet life is often stranger than any fiction.
Nothing could have prepared the witcher for what slowly lumbered into the manor's courtyard. It resembled a mouse, if said rodent was the size of a barn. Its coat was a silverish-white. A long snake-like tail added several times to the beast's total length. Large round black eyes stared back at the witcher from a massive head. As if its size wasn't impressive enough it also seemed quite intelligent. However Geralt's observations couldn't prepare him for what came next. The giant rodent spoke.
"Master, disposed of the intruders this one has. Your humble servant, Hamsuke, awaits her next order."
Monsters were a witcher's bread and butter but Geralt had never heard of, let alone seen, such a beast. Had Vesemir been here, he was sure the old witcher would have already been taking notes to add to the bestiary.
The slight push Letho gave him tipped him off to the fact he had been staring a little too long. Clearing his throat the witcher addressed Momon.
"Where did you manage to find this creature? Asking from professional interest."
The knight seemed taken aback by the question. But it was not he answered but rather the monster.
"This one comes from the Great Forest of Tob. This one was once called Wise King o-"A punch from the glaring sorceress silenced it." Who gave you permission to speak?!" Somehow her icy tone had gotten even colder.
'Great Forest of Tob huh…' The witcher couldn't say he was familiar with it but perhaps he just knew it under a different name. Still, he had a more pressings issue to deal with. The treatment of the monster made his blood boil.
"The creature is sentient. You shouldn't hurt it like that." Harshly stated the witcher. As soon as those words had left his mouth, the temperature dropped.
"And who do you think you are to give me orders maggot?"
Just as it seemed that another fight was about to break out, Momon's voice echoed in the air.
"Nabe, that's enough."
"But my lord-"
"I said that's enough. Don't you dare tarnish our reputation further!"
"Undersood. I am very sorry!" It was like the woman's attitude had done a complete 180 turn. Seeming satisfied the knight turned his attention to the witcher.
"Mr. Geralt – was it. I hope you will forgive my companion's rash outburst. However, I would have to ask you to not ask any questions in regards to Hamsuke's origins. I can assure you she is well taken care of and all her needs are met. If my words aren't enough, you can ask her yourself."
Hearing those words, Geralt turned his questioning gaze towards the rodent. It turned its head left and right, as if to make sure he was really asking it. Once that became clear, the monster opened its mouth, made as if to speak, then closed it again. It did this a couple more times before words finally left its lips.
"It is this one's great honor to serve as Master's pet. Master is the bestest master ever. And this one would never hold mistress Nabe's cold attitude against her."
"There you have it." Momon said, bringing an end to the matter.
The physical punishment still bothered the witcher but if Hamsuke said everything was fine, he wouldn't press the issue.
It was in this moment Letho chose to finally break his silence. He turned to Geralt and spoke.
"Well, the way I see it that group of horsemen heading here wasn't doing some old woman a favor. Seems like I was sold out after all. And there is only one person who knew I would be here. Name's Louise. He's encamped nearby. I'll pay him a visit, have a little chat. You wanna tag along?"
Geralt knew he should refuse the Viper's invitation. He needed to get to Crow's Perch…But at the same time he couldn't just leave the other witcher in his time of need. 'Damn it' He cursed in his mind.
"Sure. Would love to see that."
In that moment Momon let out a small cough, drawing the witchers' attention.
"Excuse me, would it be alright if we joined you."
The question had come out of nowhere. What could the knight possibly gain from helping them? Sensing the monster-slayers' confusion Momon elaborated.
"Despite the fact we were attacked first, part of the blame lies with me. I could have disarmed the situation much earlier yet chose not to. Think of this as me apologizing for my actions."
Besides I despise traitors." He then added darkly.
"Hmph…"
Letho weighed the pros and cons of taking the unusual duo and their pet along for the ride in his mind. In the end he decided 'What the hell! Why not?!'
"The more the merrier."
"This world doesn't need a hero, it needs a professional."
Ainz Ooal Gown, the Supreme One, Ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Last of the Supreme Beings or to his NPCs simply Lord Ainz, was confused. Now this might surprise you but this was actually how he felt most of the time. Back on topic, the Overlord kept hearing of this being by the name of Ainz, which had everything meticulously planned and was apparently smarter than the Tomb's assortment of geniuses. It would be nice if that Ainz could show up and take charge for a bit. Yet it appeared he much rather preferred to act at the most random of times.
"To think you took that request so that it would place us closer to our target of observation. You even positioned Hamsuke in such a way to deal with their enemies so they would trust us more readily. I stand in awe of your brilliance my lord." Narberal's praise only further added to the Overlord's mental exhaustion. The two were riding together on top of Hamsuke. Up ahead the two witchers could be seen conversing while on horseback.
"As your Master and the Ruler of Nazarick it is my duty to take into account all possibilities."
He said that but in reality he had no idea the seemingly simple request would turn into such a mess. How was he to know he would run into a wanted fugitive and the witcher Demiurge had taken an interest in, just as a bunch of bounty hunters tried to collect on the bounty? Furthermore, while Hamsuke guarding the eastern entrance had indeed been his idea, the fact the riders had come from there was sheer dumb luck. A coincidence.
As Ainz understood it, the fields eastward of the manor were choke-full of nekker nests. He had assumed it was them that had infested the manor and so positioning the hamster there had two goals: first, to block any monster that attempted to flee back to its nest and second, to intercept any reinforcements the goblin-like creature might send. 'Who in their right mind would pass through monster infested land, while there is a perfectly usable safe road nearby?!'
Speaking of Hamsuke, there was another thing bothering him. The way the so-called monster experts had looked at her. It gave him flashbacks to the time the Swords of Darkness had seen her. 'Here too… Why does everyone think so highly of her? Am I the weird one?! Is there something I am not seeing?!' Before his temper could get the better of him, his mental suppression triggered, calming the undead down.
He sighed in his head. This was supposed to be his vacation. A nice trip to see the Northern Realms in person. Sure, he had teleported here and there in order to meet with the Guardians and other people of interest, but those were just brief visits that didn't allow him to take in the sites.
Yet the excursion hadn't been easy to arrange. The chief setback had been the actions of Pandora's Actor or rather the result of said actions. For a brief time after the event he had dubbed 'the Second Shutdown' everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. During that time he had sent his creation out to gather information under the guise of Momon but had also made sure to keep a close eye on his adventures. Just as things had begun to look up, Ainz had taken his eyes off of the doppelganger in order to deal with some other issues and that had proven a fatal mistake. Not only had Pandora's Actor somehow managed to get knighted, he had also received a noble title and a vineyard. While the privileges were nice, they also brought a new problem – court obligation. The Overlord shuttered at the mere thought. He rarely attended in person, instead preferring to hoist the duty on the doppelganger.
The worst part was that with his flowery speeches and bombastic character, the shape-shifter seemed to be right at home amongst the other knights. However, it looked like not everyone was so-easily convinced, if the weird way the duchess had been acting around him was any indication. Her behavior reminded him of a certain magic caster he had met during the course of Operation Gehenna. He had caught the ruler staring at him on multiple occasions. Each time she would quickly avert her gaze and play it off as coincidence but Ainz was onto her.
Still, with the ruler he had pledged allegiance to (boy had that conversation with the NPCs gone well) being wary of him, he had decided to not push his luck and had postponed his trip. However, Ainz's explorer's nature soon proved too much to bear and the undead, with the help of Pandora's Actor, who was more versed in the quirks of the locals, had devised a bullshit story about a secret vow that forced him to venture to Kovir and Poviss. The lie had worked like a charm and Momon had departed from Toussaint with the blessing of the ducal palace.
At first their travels had been relatively uneventful. Passing through the lands controlled by Nilfgaard had been a cinch. The mere look of his armor ensured that they wouldn't be bothered. In fact the Overlord vividly remembered the time an entire garrison had mistaken him for an officer out on inspection. The sight of over fifty soldiers dropping everything they had been doing and saluting him out of the blue would forever remain engraved in his conscience.
The problems had begun once they had crossed into the more recently acquired imperial provinces. Jeers, thrown stones and general disdain. That was how the locals had greeted them. On several occasions the party had been jumped by 'patriots' who had had a little too much liquid courage. Still, the moment the disguised magic caster had stepped foot in Dol Blathanna he knew it had been worth it. The Valley of the Flowers had certainly lived up to its name. It had been quite an experience for Ainz who had been raised in the post-apocalyptic world of 2138.
The original plan had been to catch a boat and sail down the Pontar River to Novigrad, where they would find transport to Kovir and Poviss. Everything had been going splendidly until they reached Ban Glean. The party's ship had been caught in a particularly fierce nilfgaardian assault. As a result, the vessel had sadly sunk, forcing the party to continue the journey on foot.
They had eventually reached Velen, where they had hit on another setback. Every single river crossing was under redanian control. It seemed that King Radovid had issued an edict that forbids crossing the river without a permit. Sure, Ainz could have contacted Demiurge and had one delivered to him but where was the fun in that?
This trip was also meant to serve as Momon's introduction to the people of the Northern Realms. With how war-torn the land was, opportunities to spread his name around were plentiful. He had set to searching for a job that would net him a permit. He had briefly considered using those witches in order to stir a commotion but that had proven unnecessary. He had heard that a local baron's family was missing. It was the perfect job for Momon and he was sure the nobleman would have a spare pass to throw on top of the reward. Then Demiurge had contacted him to inform him of the witches' betrayal. Their fate had been sealed the moment they had gone against him and his. Still, the way he had been informed reminded him of how the incident with Shalltear had been conveyed to him. In order to distract himself from the unpleasant memories, the party had stopped at Lindenvale for a brief rest, where an old woman had approached them. And the rest was history.
It seemed that while he had gone on his little trip down memory lane, they had reached Louis' camp. It wasn't anything impressive but it served its purpose. A large man caring a mallet came forward to meet them. 'Guess that is Louis.'
"Leeethooo, greetings! Good to see you alive and well!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Course! We're old mates, ain't we…? Who are your frie-nds?" The man's eyes widened when they landed on Hamsuke massive form and Momon's armored frame.
"Geralt of Rivia." Came Geralt's curt reply. The trio simply chose to remain silent, though Nabe's glare had become particularly intense.
"So uhh… What's with the giant rat? And I though you and the nilfgaardians had a falling out. But perhaps you would like a drink before that…"
"I don't drink with traitors and rats." After a moment, Letho suddenly turned to look at Hamsuke and said "No offense."
"Who-ho! Let's be civil, now. Remember, you're on my turf."
"Arnout Vester's men knew about the manor. You were the only one told I would be there."
At those words the various cutthroats and bandits around them began to surround the group. Jumping down from Hamsuke's back, Momon unsheathed his greatswords. The sight seemed to discourage a few of the lowlifes, who dropped their weapons and ran for the hills. "Pitiful" muttured the dark warrior. Behind him, lightning was already dancing up and down Nabe's arm and Hamsuke had risen on her back legs showing off just how big she was. A few more took their comrades example and booked it.
Judging by the sweat gathering on his brow, Louis was getting nervous now that his numbers had been reduced substantially.
"T-they'd b-been nippin' at your heels for a wh-while – said so y-yourself. Perhaps they finally c-caught a whiff." The once cocky man had turned into a stuttering mess.
"Mhm. With your help." At those words, the Viper drew steel. His counter-part from the School of the Wolf fallowed a second latter. The two witchers seemed to become whirlwinds of death, cutting down the remaining bandits to a man so fast neither Momon nor Nabe could react. Hamsuke managed to get the two cutthroats furthest away from the fight with her tail. To call it a battle would have been a lie. The whole ordeal had taken less than a minute.
Louis was on the ground, bleeding heavily from a large wound on his side. It was painfully obvious to everyone he would bleed out soon. At least to everyone not named Louis it seemed. He man clutched at the wound as if it would stop the blood from flowing out of his body. Letho seemed to have picked up on that little tid bit.
"Tell me where Vester's men are. I'll give you something to stanch the bleeding."
"T-they're west of here. In Lindenvale."
"I'm curious – how much does the life of an "old mate" get you these days?" Asked Geralt. However it was not Louis that answered the question. Instead Momon darkly muttured "Not enough." Though it was barely louder than a whisper, everyone had heard the words.
"Good answer." Said Letho as he turned out leave the campsite.
"Hey! My medicine!"
"Gotta understand, Louis. You don't betray men like me. Have fun bleeding out. Come on, let's go see Vester."
With that the party left the injured traitor to his fate. As they were leaving they could hear Louis' screams as something came out of the woods, drawn to the smell of fresh blood.
