NOTICE: Good folk, this is my first time writing so I can't say how well this will go but… To those who have decided to pick up this story from the board, I say thank you and I hope it won't disappoint. I have been mucking around with the idea for a while now and finally gathered the courage (and found the time, amidst these troubling times) to pen this. Do excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes as I am yet not fluent in the Common Speech of the Northern Realms. With this out of the way, let us begin this tale of the witcher, known as Geralt of Rivia and his encounters with a certain few newcomers to the Continent.

"_"- Speech

'_'- Inner thoughts

[_] – Tier Spells

{_} – Signs and Magic

PROLOGUE: Something Wicked This Ways Comes

"This land never flowed with milk and honey, and now it flows with blood…"

Senator Var Attre to Geralt of Rivia

To say that Geralt had become familiar with the swamps and bogs of Velen would be an understatement. The witcher had been running around the war-torn land in search of clues as to Ciri's whereabouts for days now. His leads had led him to Keira Metz and Phillip Strenger, the so-called Bloody Baron.

"Wind's howling…" Geralt murmured quietly, as Roach splashed through a particularly deep puddle. Having run into a dead end in his search for the Baron's wife, Anna, he had set off for the swamp to pursue his last lead, hoping to pick up the Ciri's trail again.

The witcher had heard of a Trail of Sweets that was supposed to lead him to the witches he was looking for, and so had headed for it. However, it seemed something didn't want him there. A storm had appeared out of nowhere throwing off his search for the so-called Crones.

Raindrops the size of peas pelted his cloak and ran down the sheaths of his twin swords in small rivers. To make matters worse his wolf's head medallion was going crazy. The storm was clearly magical in nature.

"Powerful magic at work… Crones might be the real deal after all". There were rumors about them and their power. Keira had dismissed them as mere poppycock but this spell painted a different picture. It was hard to navigate due to the downpour but a witcher's senses where nothing to scoff at either, and soon the Geralt and Roach found themselves in a clearing in the swamp with several huts.

"Strange, the huts look lived in but it appears nobody's here. Gotta look around."

Quickly hopping off the saddle, Geralt decided to take a closer look at the seemingly abandoned area. Now that he was closer to the ground he could tell there was a fight. The small mud circle in middle of the huts had become a ring for a titanic clash it seemed. 'Big, really big. Two sets of tracks…Both muddled by the rain…Tufts fur caked in blood. A fiend. But what fought it? '

Steeping closer to the one of the huts. Door was smashed in, as if someone had taken a battering ram to it, and there was a familiar stench wafting through the air. "Eugh…Rot. Maybe rotfiends… but the way the door is broken doesn't fit... "

The witcher unsheathed his silver sword and carefully made his way further in. He hadn't heard the usual vocalizations of feeding necrophages or sensed the smell of blood and that was making him nervous. To his relief the hut was empty. A cursory look revealed nothing. 'Odd… door was smashed by something big and the air smells of decay yet apart from that there appears to be nothing to suggest a monster rummaged around inside. Tracks outside are useless due to the rain.'

Stepping outside. Geralt was relieved to find the weather was clearing up. "Magic storm was intended to slow me down and wash away the evidence. Clever"

Just as he was about to head for another of the huts, he tensed up and swiftly pointed his sword at the trail he had come down. Just in time to see an old woman and group of children appear from behind some trees.

"Away with you! Begone!" Cried the woman.

"Calm down, I am not going to hurt you." Geralt said as he slowly sheathed his blade. "Can you tell me what happened here?"

"What happened!? What happened was that the Hunt came to take me kids! Ohh but the Ladies drove them away, ayy the Good Ladies."

But the witcher wasn't listening to her. The moment he had heard "Hunt" his mind trailed into dark thoughts. 'How are they always one step ahead of me and how far behind Ciri are they? No, now is not the time for such thoughts.' Taking a deep breath, Geralt look around once again. 'No signs of frost or temperature drops, strange, with the rain there should be snow if it was them.'

"Oi, are ye listening! I know what you think – she has gone barmy but I tells you it was them, skeletal and as big as a tree. " Continued the woman.

"Gran, Gran have the wraiths gone away? "Asked one of the children, who were currently hiding behind their guardians skirts.

"Yes child… The Ladies have protected us"

"I wouldn't be so sure… " Interjected the witcher. "Whatever attacked you might come back. You are all still in danger. I'll escort you and the children to the nearest village but before that I need to know have you seen an ashen haired girl?"

"The Ladies will protect us, as they always have, as they always will! Begone now! Kids are already scared enough, don't want ye bandit types around here, ya hear me!" Protested Gran.

Suddenly one of the children spoke up "But Gran, Johnny saw her!"

"Who's Johnny?" Inquired the monster-slayer. It seemed like the lad would continue but at that moment…

"Nobody! Johnny isn't real! Now, aways with you cutthroat!" Once again cried the old woman while shooing away the witcher before ushering the child inside the hut. The rest of the children running off to play in the newly made mud.

'Gotta talk to that child' Resolved the witcher. Unbeknownst to him, he was being observed by two different forces – one, from the nearby woods, and the other, from the comfort of its throne.

When the White Frost comes, don't eat the yellow snow.

Getting to the child had proven more difficult than just walking right in after he was kick out (that method usually worked). However, if nothing else, Geralt was pragmatic. Even so after being forced to play, frankly, a rather easy game of hide and seek with the kids in order to get them to distract Gran and then having to help Johnnie, who ,turns out, was a godling, to get his voice back from a harpies nest, the witcher's patience was running rather thin. The only thing keeping him in check was the fact he had learned that Ciri was here. Only problem was that he needed to speak with the Crones.

With the help of the godling, securing an audience proved rather easy. Soon Geralt found himself following the old woman into the largest structure in the clearing. The moment he passed through the door, he felt sick to his stomach. As if he had just taken the vilest mixture of witcher potions. Taking a second to compose himself, the White Wolf walked into the Witches' Den.

Before him and Gran stood a large tapestry, depicting three beautiful women. There was something off about its texture but the witcher decided to remain silent.

Then Gran began singing:

"Ladies lovely, with power o'er all,"

Beseech I thee, answer my call,

Before you a worm crawls, wretched and small.

As she finished the final verse, she placed her hand on the tapestry and for a moment there was a chill. Then the old woman spoke in a voice, not her own. "How dare you disturb our meeting woman! Now we might incur His wrath!"

"They speak through you?" Asked Geralt. Now that he had gotten a better look at the tapestry it seemed to be made out of human hair.

Another voice boomed from the frail woman: "Though he is good looking, he isn't very clever. Interrupting the messenger like that? Speak quickly!"

There was fear in the voice. As if it was a peasant, who was locked in a room with a hungry ghoul. But these were the famed Crones, what could possibly make them afraid? It sent chills down his spine. "What messenger and what was with the magic storm?" Quickly asked the witcher. "If whatever you fended off of this place is making you this afraid I can deal with it, if you tell me what you know abo-…"

As soon as those words left his mouth, the candles, placed next to the tapestry all went out. A cacophony of shouts came from the old woman, as if three voices were trying to speak at the same time." Foo-…Incomprehensibl-… Idiot. It is suicide."

"Why? You managed to drive it away so it mus-" But the witcher was interrupted again.

"We could do nothing. The Master simply called its Dog off once his… concerns… were made clear. He is always watching. If we move against him, we die"

"Has this "master"placed a curse on you? Is that why you are in the tapestry?"

The voice switched to another. " It is futile to fight the Darkness…but perhaps you can be of another use to us."

"As long as you tell me what happened to the ashen haired girl…We have a deal. Now what must I do?" As soon as those words left his mouth, he regretted them. However, Ciri was more important. Even if he had to live-up to his namesake from Blaviken.

"The Master is powerful… Too powerful to waste his time squashing every little mosquito. One such annoyance has taken root near Downwarren… Get rid of it and we shall tell you. Show the ealdorman this dagger and he will now what to do. Return only once you have completed the task."

Next thing the witcher new, he was being handed the dagger by Gran, who had snapped out of her trance. They left the hut in silence. The old woman didn't even look at him as she hid away in one of the other huts. A quick whistle and Roach was at the witcher's side. Still as he rode away from the clearing, he couldn't stop himself from thinking that he had, somehow, stepped into a giant mess without Dandelion being the reason. So deep in thought was he that he missed the small creature that merged with his shadow.