The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

The Beast of Beauclair

(F/N) took the steel sword from the blacksmith and examined it thoroughly, "And you swear to its caliber?" The blade had a golden handle in the form of a rapier. But the steel was thick and slightly short, it would work perfectly for now.

The blade master nodded as he watched the witcher twirl his blade and slice it through the air, "Aye, although my prices are high, so is me quality. I have some sacks in the back if you're interested in using it." The witcher shook his head as he sheathed the blade, "It's fine, but if you're trying to scam me, I'll be back." (F/N) set a sack of coins on the counter, "Will that work?" The smith picked up the small burlap sack and weighed it in his hands before opening it, "Aye, that should do, good luck on your hunt master witcher."

The tourney grounds were filled with people who were happily pouring into the stadium. (F/N) found Geralt in a crowd of people, there was an event going on apparently, everyone was talking about how it would top everything throughout the festival. The young witcher sheathed his new blade on his back right next to his silver one. He got his former masters attention, "Did you find Palmerin?"

Geralt nodded, "Yeah, did you get your new sword?" (F/N) smiled and patted the hilt, "It would be better if you let me use my claws, they don't need to be sharpened, they're weightless, and they're free." His old master gave him a look, "They'll also get you chased out of here."

(F/N) rolled his eyes as the pair approached the knight. His golden armor shined in the sun as he spoke to a group of children who were playing a simple game, "We need to speak to the duchess. Urgently," Geralt said with his classic tone.

Palmerin nodded, as he looked to the children, with a smile spread across his face, "All right, you scamps. Story's done. Go find your parents."

"But Sir Palmerin! What about the story of Riddick and the dragon?" one of the children cried out as the others whined in protest.

"That tales for another time. But take a look at the men who stand before you now. This is Geralt of Rivia, the master witcher who lent his valiant hand to the defeat of the giant Golyat. And his ward (F/N) (L/N), who doesn't live up to the honor his master has come to expect...but with a heart that is noble."

"Master witchers," a girl said, "is it true virtue always trumps villainy?"

Geralt frowned, but shrugged, "Uh, yeah. Virtue always wins."

(F/N) laughed just as the children were about to speak, "No, that's not true. The strongest wins. But it's worth being virtuous."

The kids seemed confused, one even asked, "Why?" so the young witcher added, "Would you rather be friends with someone who's villainous or virtuous?"

Palmerin laughed as the children started asking the witcher even more questions, "Now, that will have to do. Go find your parents." The children laughed as they went off to do just that, starting another game as they left. The knight smiled at the witchers, "Her Enlightened Highness has doubtless arrived at the tourney grounds to watch the battle in the arena. If we hurry, we'll be in time to speak to her before the tourney begins."

Gerealt nodded as he glanced at the massive stadium, "Lead the way." As they walked, (F/N) stared at the stadium, the logs that served as walls were massive, but they had steps around them so people could see inside, it wasn't designed to keep people out, but something in.

"Who's fighting? Nilfgaardian gladiators?" Geralt asked, his curiosity intrigued.

Palmerin chuckled, "Close, but not quite. As you will see soon," the knight pointed at a large cage.

(F/N)'s eyes widened when he saw it, inside was a Shaelmaar. The monster was struggling inside the cage while two men tried to tie a pair of bells around its tail. The young witcher sighed. The creatures large rocky shell had black and yellow painted on it to symbolize the colors of Nilfgaard. The giant monster had large claws, but they were designed for digging and smashing rocks, not killing or slicing. The Shaelmaar couldn't even see, they lived underground and used echolocation. Geralt shared (F/N)'s distaste, "Someone's gonna fight a Shaelmaar? With only some bells on its tail to confuse it, slow it down?"