Mottle and Nettle

Life Of A Witcher

"Strange he said she were, not normal looking that one. Ol alderman told her, the mottle haired witcher, he said "you clear Blackthorn of its beast and I'll pay ya good coin, huh, the stupid bitch took up the ol idiot on his offer though, she's out there now in the woods," the bald-headed villager laughed maliciously.

"Bet she's dead." a pockmarked grime-infested man piped up. "You get a good look at her? All skin and bone waving around that sword of hers like she's someone special. Can see why the old fool asked for back up! Never send a woman to do a man's job" a burst of raucous laughter erupted outside of Black Thorn Inn. three disgruntled men stood jabbering at the news of a witcher entering the village. A witcher was always cause for excitement.

"You all talk big but did you see her eyes? Red they were like the colour of blood. You'd do better than to speak ill of a witcher!" the two men laughed at their companion flashing their black teeth.

"I ain't afraid of no witcher." the burly one of the three declared proudly. "I ain't afraid no woman! Especially one of her kind. I don't even believe she is a witcher. I've never heard of a woman witcher, I think it's horse shit and her intentions were swindling us of coin!"

"Yer, if that bitch comes back we'll get back what's owed, eh boys?"

"Best start pockets" a toneless voice pierced the mid dawn air. Eyes all fell upon the person from whence it came. The woman jumped from the saddle, sodden and filthy. Thick crusty blood spattered across her pale features, a wound open on her face. All three men looked at the witcher dumbfounded.

Geralt rode into the town not long after He dismounted, amber eyes fixated on his strange companion and her illicit company.

"Where's the alderman?" the square had caught wind at the sighting of two witchers. Crowds grew around the woman and the rotting carcass lay on the back of her horse. The three men eyed the dead creature with eyes as wide as the moon.

"Is that it? The creature?"

"It really dead?" the repugnant one of the lot sneered as he came to inspect her kill.

"Take a look for yourself!" Geralt replied ripping the torn cloak of its corpse. The burly man jumped back as one the kikimore spindly legs twitched unexpectedly,

"I..its not dead, the fuckin thing is not dead!" he panicked causing a stir.

"It's very much dead." the woman replied eyeing Geralt sharply for testing off the cover on the beast. "Now get me the alderman. I did my job now. I want my coin and I'll be on my way!"

"You got a friend with ya?" one of the others questioned Geralt's presence. "Who are you?" Geralt remained unfazed by the bombarding questions. He was used to such things. Like her, he wanted his coin and to be gone.

"He's the other one," the nosy bald man declared. "The back up the alderman hired!"

"Seems like you got here too late witcher!" the burly man sneered at him. Geralt turned his face to look at the man who spoke.

"Send for the alderman. And we'll be on our way." the reply was short, flat, toneless.

.....

The witcher woman had been advised to meet with the alderman in a private room at Blackthorne inn. Geralt, on the other hand, had been instructed to wait patiently for her return assuring the silver-haired witcher that she would bring to him what he was owed. And that's what he did. Tucked away in the quietest corner of the inn Geralt of Rivia sat alone, gloved hand wrapped firmly around a tankard of ale. He heard the whispers, always did but paid no mind. Geralt's mind was on other things. Money and food at this point.