Geralt of Rivia

@whitehairedbutcher​

“Oooooo. That looks painful. Want some help?”

They nodded and soon settled themselves on the floor, their cloak shifted as they removed the sword at their hip so they could sit down. But it was placed at their side, their hand resting around the grip.

It’s sheathe was dark leather, tipped in a painted metal, they signs of someone who looked to conceal themselves. Their clothes were simple, plain pants, a cotten shirt, leather boots and leather gloves. All black, they were light on their feet that much was a given considering how close they had come to him.

While it wasn’t obvious, they bound their chest in bandages for practicality. They chuckled at his sarcasm, they had a friend who often kept themselves in a appearance like him; devoid of emotion but sarcastic beyond belief. “Do not underestimate what I offer you Geralt.” They said, reaching into their coat before pulling out a rather hefty looking coin pouch. They tossed it to him, “For simply accepting my offer.” They informed.

They looked thoughtful for a moment as they chose their words, eyes gazing into the flickering dance of the fire, “I require names of as many beasts as you are willing to tell me, habitats and usual patterns. How to differentiate sexes if any, preferred foods and such… How dangerous they are, and the best methods to deal with them.” They smirked.

“No I do not wish for you to recall it all, that would be too much time for you and myself. But I will pay for each and every monster you provide information for.” They said smirking slightly, their fangs ever so slightly sharper than usual.

Geralt weighed the coin bag in one hand, though he didn’t look inside. He could tell simply from the weight and sound that there was enough inside for him and Roach to remain well fed for the next few months, at least. However, he was also wary that this was some sort of trap. He placed the coin purse on the log beside him before resting one hand on his chest, atop the belt that fastened the scabbard to his back. He was prepared to draw the sword at a moment's notice in an action known to be far faster than the human eye could easily follow. Just because he’d accepted this man’s offer didn’t mean he was prepared to let his guard down.

It was his real name. Not that it meant much. A bastard son of a mage he was,he had taken his mother’s name as his father’s was a mystery. It had not stopped Knox though, he was a full fledged mage. He had been for decades. His life was his own and he was to live it. “Indeed.” he replied calmly. This man, pale white hair, gruff demeanor of course, he had a reputation. Blood, death, he was a butcher, a murderer  a hunter. Knox could not judge. Magecraft was not without its darker intentions. “Knox.” he corrected then sighed. For one who didn’t ask questions, he was asking far too many for his liking. “Rumors mostly.” he replied. He couldn’t tip his hand so quickly. He had seen this monster through the flames. “But I found them to be true and here we are.” he chuckled. “As I have mentioned before, I have dealt with beings from the Plane of Fire but nothing this mature or this strong. My elemental magics are strong but this being requires more might than I am able to provide.” “Does that answer your question Witcher? Perhaps I can ask why are you in this region of the Continent? The pickings are slim.”

Geralt’s usual grunt accompanied the mage’s explanation. Indeed, he had already asked the spellcaster why he couldn’t manage the ifrit on his own, but he was also well aware he was being given an explanation that was far from the entire truth. He understood why Knox might play his cards close to his chest upon their initial meeting. But, now that the witcher had agreed to accompany him on this rather daredevil mission, he’d hoped that the magician might be a bit more willing to share his hand.

It was a normal day. Well, as normal one could be as she had to make her second daily trek through the woods near the small village. Her first trek, in the early morning is usually the easiest going into the village. But her night one? Not so much. She had to take extra precautions. You see, there is a Warg pack that had made the forest their new home.

Walking along the path in her basic clothing and older cloak, she held her basket close to herself as she was as quiet as possible. Hearing a sudden voice in the air she stopped dead in her tracks, not even taking a breath as she looked around. Letting the air out slowly she licked her lips before whispering. “I am just heading home. It is not wise to be here sir.” She said taking a few hesitant steps until she saw the large figure of a man in front of her. “A pack of Wargs lives here now.” She finished looking around as best she could.

Geralt dilated his pupils slightly so as to have a better look at the woman in front of him. She seemed timid enough, and after a once-over he was sufficiently convinced she wasn’t a threat. His stance took on a less threatening air, his sword arm relaxing and the tip of the blade resting against the ground.