#torsten.01

The Warrior’s Guild was a serious Guild that placed a great deal of weight upon the shoulders of those who had been welcome to its membership. The guild was filled with determined warriors, ready to fight together against overwhelming odds. They were a group of warrior’s like no other, they were also the worst of gossips. Camaraderie was included in the Warrior’s Oath, so more often than not, there were members of the Guild that kept an ear on the ground to figure out if a fellow warrior needed aid on a contract or two. It made it easy for Mikhael to pick up jobs, since it let him know who would be willing to partner on a hunt and who wouldn’t.

Frustratingly, it also kept him aware of the Kingsguard’s Witcher, despite Mikhael’s clear attempts to steer clear of him and his kind. 

Despite the fact that he was growing ever so slowly growing more willing to use his infernal form when taking jobs partly to his group’s non-reaction when hunting beasts, Mikhael still greatly disliked the idea of being a known quantity among the Witchers. Iskaldrik had fallen, but he would rather not be remembered by those who would see it their duty to hunt him down if Iskaldrik raised once more. Not that his fellow warriors’ realized it. 

No. Instead, because they were both part of the Ikaran refugee wave and had been seen leaving Athena’s Hand one after the other, people have begun assuming that they were — at the very least —  friendly enough. 

Which is how he had learned — quite against his will, mind you — that there were rumors of Torsten having stayed in the care of the Healers of Ceres. And, once again almost against his will, he had been concerned about the man. Everyone knows that Witchers and magic do not mix, so that he had been left in the care of witches meant that his situation had been dire. 

Frankly, Mikhael had expected him to be down for the count for months, so seeing him in the Guild hall as he left the training area was a surprise. Enough of one that he had found himself walking closer to see if there were any visible wounds. 

“I see you are back on your feet,” he comments with a quick nod of acknowledgement. “Here to pick up a contract?”