"We have heard stories of your tales, Witcher. Before the Great Purge, and after. You have accomplished things no other creature has. You should be killed for these actions, but you are of importance to us.

A small village two day's west from Vizima was sleeping safe and sound for the first time in years. A few days before, a rugged man and boy arrived in the village, and offered to take care of the monster problems, in exchange for a place to stay for a few days and some food. It didn't take long for the two to hunt down the multiple counts of harpies, a griffon, even a Spriggan. The town soon realized who the two were. Witchers. They let them stay in the barn on the outskirts of town, and fed them what they needed, but kept their distance. So some, Witchers are still compared to the monsters they are forced to kill.

Although the village is safe, it wasn't Rilden and his apprentice's real purpose to come to the town. The Grand King "asked" Rilden to do a certain task. Not only was he to help fight against this dark army that came out of the Second Conjunction, but also gather all the remaining Witchers, mages, and anyone else, and convince them to help as well... Witchers were known to be neutral, they weren't supposed to be involved with politics, but this was a whole new world. They didn't have a choice, and time wasn't anything they had.

Rilden knelt on the barn floor, meditating, and listening to the quietness around him. Rilden started a fake bounty in the town, and it spread across the Continent. A beast was eating crops, stealing from homes, and there was a strong magical presence. To a witcher that would mean a Sylvan was near.For a mage, it meant a beast capable of using that much magic should be looked into. Either way, it'll attract some people that are interested in the hunt...

It had been days since the bounty was sent, and in the meantime, Rilden continued Foltest's training. He was doing exceptionally well. He was quick, strong, willing to do what was necessary, but he had a lot to learn. He has a family, but if he goes through the Trials, he will have to leave that all behind. But until then, he was ordered to be a lookout, and practice until he saw signs of anyone suspicious entering the town.

A scream was heard from a distance, and Rilden immediately opened his cat-like eyes. He grabbed his freshly sharpened swords, and stood up. Silence again. What happened? Did someone encounter a Witcher? A Mage? Or maybe a new creature that appeared in the village? It was known for beats to appear as if out of nowhere nowadays. This new Conjunction has brought a lot of surprises, and evil, more intelligent creatures. He had to find Foltest, and make sure everything was alright.

Foltest never imagined he would one day gaze upon the mighty walls of Vizima, or even stand within the Throne Room while a Witcher had a personal hearing with the High King and his court. Of course, had anyone told him two years ago that he would wound up to become the learner of said Witcher, such discussion would only end with their fists behind Midcopse's local winesink. And yet here he was, sitting near the warm fire to cull the nightly cold wind from rattling his bones, dining with overcooked beans and drinking old vodka.

It wasn't like they didn't deserve such lavish meal, after all, these last days had been bone-breaking for the young hunter. Waking up with the rise of the sun, practicing the sword forms and then sparring with Rilden for three hours, before spending most of the mid-day with Contracts or studying Signs and the differences between Rotlfiends and Devourers, and then returning to swordsmanship until the sun hid behind the horizon, then they ate, meditated and back to sleep. And today wasn't any different, as Foltest was given the task of crafting Dimeritium Bombs or gathering bait for the Griffin while Rilden handled the execution of the creature they were after. When he dared to ask why he wouldn't track the Harpies down with his enhanced senses, the Wolf gave him a proper tongue lashing, claiming that when he was half his age he could trace a nekker nest in the middle of the Blue Mountains just by the spit of the buggers. No one as old as him was ever trained to become a hexer, but desperate times called for a bend of the doctrine.

He was repeating the Fast Style chain for the tenth time, his body was just recently getting used to the pirouettes and acrobatics when the sound of a shriek shot through his ears. Grabbing his steel longsword, Vosons instincts and training kicked in and rushed back to the barn. He was told by Rilden to never engage a beast on his own, at least not until he took the trials.

"What was that?" he asked his master as he saw him rushing out of his confines, blades in hand "We cleared out everything in the area, the Contract was supposed to be a fluke..."

"Waaz dis liquid? Drank nuttin' like dis befo'!" The commoner hap-hazardly placed a bottle, crafted from hollowed bamboo base wrapped with a leather piece with a cap on the counter top as a hand sniped the bottle and capped a cork firmly and hung it near the hilts of his blades.

"A mixture of rice... Allegro... A special formulae fermented over 4 days..." The red slit-eyed monater hunter whipped his onyx hair behind him. "Formulae's a secret. Witcher's secret." The same commoner pressed on.

"Come on master witcha! Tell us how wuz de secrit..." An expression of annoyance followed the witcher as he held his cheekbones, almost as though he felt the need to cover the straight scar across the lower part of his lale face and laid the same hand back on the table.

"On one condition." He specified, piercing the drunken man's eyes as he nodded.

"Wuts it?" He confidently asked.

"If I tell you the formulae, I'll have to kill you." Despite such an aggressive revelation; the drunk seemed to be incapacitated enough that it may have missed what he'd say. He stood from his seat and made his exit from the tavern; the man followed.

"Witcha... Wait... Ferghusss..." Then, screaming. Ferghus perked his face up as his ears acutely detected the soundwaves of a feminine voice that came from the Southeast. He adjusted his swords by his waist and pushed the man back into the tavern.

"Stay inside. You're too drunk. Bound to make trouble." He shut the door and made haste to the source of the voice.

A rider was slowly moving down the road, her pretty great horse carrying her and a big wolf behind herself without any difficulty. The woman wore clothes made out of cotton, linen and furs. Her fur coat currently completely buttoned up, only from a small opening could the linen shirt underneath could be seen. Down across her stomach over her coat she wore a corset of sorts that kept the fur coat nicely closed and tight, while also providing decent protection for her stomach in the form of tempered and layered leather. She also wore a set of pants made out of fur and linen also. Finally to complete her image, she had very high leather boots, tightened above and under her knee with straps. Effectively making it so water would hardly enter them. The very last detail was a strange belts tied to some small steel chains to her corset. It was a log leather strip with steel and silver round plates across it on even intervals, adorned with the moon cycles.

On her forehead could be seen a braided band of leather strips. Her long raven hair softly flowed behind herself almost like a black silken cape and from underneath said cape only the metal on two handles of swords shone. The handles were curved and adorned with some kind of red wood. Aside the curious swords she carried, this woman appeared to be hailing from Skellige.

The woman threw a glance behind herself where she had strapped the dead wolf to the saddle. It was truly a great beast with beautiful gray fur. It's pack had made the mistake of attacking her 2 days back and she had taken it as a trophy. The wolf was clearly dead, from a great slash across it's neck. She had even wrapped the wound with cloth so it's blood doesn't dirty her horse and the rest of it's fur. From what she knew, there was a village not far from where she now stood... maybe half an hour slow ride until there. The wolf was starting to smell a little so she had no other choice, but go there. They should have leather workers or hunters to skin this beast. She liked it's fur and frankly it would make a fine set of new gloves at the very least, but she had other plans for the beautiful gray fur of this one. She was decent at sewing, but not so great at skinning thus she wanted a trained person to do it.

She had heard the rumors of a Sylvan praying on this village, but frankly wasn't as convinced. AS far as she was concerned, she was just here to get the wolf skinned and it's pelt prepared. Suddenly as she heard a distant scream coming from the village up ahead, her horse stopped in it's tracks, shacking head in disapproval and stopping in place.

“Eeasy... easy, Aslan.” The woman stated, caressing the horse's head.” When were you ever afraid from some screams?” She added, calming the horse down until it started to move again.” Let's go see if they have someone to take care of my wolf problem. Eitherway you get to not carry that heavy as hell wolf anymore once we arrive.” The rider whispered to the horse that finally calmed enough to move again. ' Maybe it's the bad grass and he feels restless. I should buy him some proper feed if they have at the village.' She thought, once more riding with confidence forward.

Near the outskirts of the village - a merchant' caravan was slowly arriving at the small village, carrying various goods to sell. Being pulled along by a strong and healthy black horse, bred for endurance and pulling heavy loads. The finely dressed merchant was holding the horses reins, guiding it towards the village. In the back sat a burly guard, whom was busy cleaning his poleaxe - while dropping looks at the woman sitting next to him. They had picked up the hooded gray-haired woman, about six days ago - namely she was asking them for a ride to nearby village near Vizima. Soon enough, when she was picked up - did they notice, her eyes were covered in several linen bandages, likely making her blind. Yet somehow, she was very adept at using her other senses - as she caught his hand, when he tried to grope her a few times. Namely having her senses better tuned than most other humans - and having been a soldier, before she lost her sight.

Despite her odd 'abilities', she seemed rather meek and sociable at that - always eager to talk and discuss, about the current politics of kings, the new monsters popping up, or the usual best locations for a good drink. She was a good distraction - namely cause on the road, you either had to deal with boredom or the occasional bandit - rarely a few of the monsters, in which those cases ended with a very quick and bumpy ride away from said monster. He didn't think much about that - namely whenever a woman came along long trips, there was always bound for a certain tension to develop. She was nice and average on the eyes - but a woman was a woman. As both of them got to know, about two days ago - during a longer stop near some mountains, when the boss was asleep and he had a bit of some vodka he brought on the road.

A rough bump, however soon brought him out of his daydreaming - signaling their arrival into the village. He jumped down and helped the former maiden down from the caravan. No need to have her, trip and brake something on that pretty face of her. "Mmm, thank you for the assistance," she spoke, giving him a warm smile.

"Anythin' fer a lady," he replied, kissing her hand. "Nee' any 'elp?"

"No need...I will find my way," she replied, soon disappearing into the village.

---

Yuna soon took a deep breathe, rotating her neck to get the kinks out of it. Sleeping in a merchant' caravan for five days, left one' body sore - no matter how inhuman they were, the old pain of bed-ache still haunted them. The trip had been a rather bumpy one - namely cause the one they took, didn't have well-paved roads and mostly was all rocky or muddy. The caravan guard had been rather...well, handsome on the eyes - if as gropy and pervy as most men of his age. But his performance wasn't lacking atleast.

She giggled at the thought, as she soon pulled on her hood and started walking through the village. Having slipped into her traveller persona, keeping her face hidden underneath the hood. With the night' darkness, it was much easier to hide it - namely cause many a person, would likely come and ask, if she was lost. Namely her initial appearance would make most people think - that she was blind. The numerous cloth bandages covering her eyes, made many commoner think she was wounded, lost or...vunerable.

The truth was, she coul easily see through them - a simple enchantment, gotten from a mage, whom had visited her School many years ago. Namely she had been taught in the Manticore School - which many assumed was as average as the other handful of Witcher schools in the world. In some ways it was true, they taught people like her to fight monsters, track them and prepare special potions to counter them. But they were taught to approach the subject in a different fashion. Out East - they were taught to utilize more of the beasts they slew; since if they were taught many ways to kill them, why not teach how to make use of the kills. Hunting such creatures themselves was an experience - why go after the money, if you weren't planning to save it, and used it to hunt more monsters later. It was a dead circle - one filled with nothing, but dead beast and disgruntled villagers.

Manticores were taught also to be more self-sufficient - namely cause not every town or village would be happy to have Witchers over. In addition, those that did have monster issues and were looking for people to help them, weren't always the most able to pay the coin. If there was one thing, that the Manticores were different from the others - is that they could understand. Namely, they were more 'street-smart' - having prestige or a 'reputation' was bad for their line-of-work. Since people remembred the bad more than the good - and in their work, it was better that people knew less about them. A willingness to hire help, didn't always translate to an ableness to pay - she had encountered many villagers whom couldn't pay the bounty. Unlike others, whom would demand coin - she was more willing to work around it - food, shelter, transportation even a good tavern song, suited her. Since, their pay and work was ultimately in the hands of regular men. Not many of them could afford, to travel the world and slay for a living. It also helped overall, when one left the village with a better mood - than the one they had before her arrival.

Their teaching also reflected upon Yuna - as she wore something of a sellsword appearance. A steel sword at her hip, and a hood drawn over head - not the appearance of a Witcher, whom carried an aura of fear and cold to them. Her tools were hidden, her varius bombs attached to her belt and unseen - several knives of silver and steel make, poisoned a few were hidden at her ankles and inside sleeves. While the silver blade, a telltale give-away was a short-blade of her and kept inside her coat. Dressing like a cold mercenary prompted people to treat you as one - as Yuna had learned over the years. Instead it was better to approach them from a position of aid or of meekness. After all - whom would suspect, the blind mercenary girl walking down the streets to be a Witcheress? In cases, that she did explain her job description - the lack of cat eyes, put some humans at ease. If she looked human, then she was likely human in their eyes.

Her thoughts, were soon interrupted when she heard a scream - her senses being tuned as they were, while over the years - her hearing had become much better too. As she soon turned and started in a half-jog to head over to the location. Not too fast, and not too slowly - always better to blend in than to stick out; as many other villagers likely would also go to check out the location of the scream.

In the tavern he sat, a corner booth in the far end of the place near the kitchen door. He eyed up the patrons from within. Currently, two of his clients and two of his targets were side by side, each wanting the other dead. It was something about a feud relating to land and missing cattle, to which he cared for neither. He was to be simply a means to an end. He told each one to meet the other in the tavern, claim to the other that one wishes to end the feud with a drink and a fresh start. The poor sods. Too stupid to realize that they would end each other off by the same poison given to them by the same witcher. Behind the mask he couldn't help but smirk as he watched them both clank the mugs together and took a sip of the tainted liquid. As they did he stood up and made his way over to them and reached into the one's pocket for his coin.

"Oi wadderya do-do....du"
"Did is fer mah lahnd and cahttle yew stole from meh...wait a tick...I dun feel so well."

"This one said payment is to be half up front, half when the job is completed. A man does not remember nor shall he again." The other soon begun to feel the poison take effect and shortly collapsed onto the ground, spilling the rest of the drink. Distant eyes met his lifeless ones as the client/target's last breath was drawn. With the contracts completed he left the tavern, only becoming a moment in its ever growing history.

Valter strolled through the streets of Vizima quite casually, despite being surrounded by so many humans who would have his head if they had the means, had they known his true nature. This, of course, they did not. Not even a Witcher's pendant would give him away, such was the nature of his species. As it was, he walked as a mortal in appearance, though his clothing was closer to that of the Nilfgaardian Nobility than the peasantry which surrounded him.

The blood in the throngs that pressed against him and around him seemed almost to beat communally, as if the city's populace was all one massive goblet running over with his sanguine tempter. Luckily for him (and perhaps more so for the civilians around him) Valter had gorged himself in the palace dungeons the previous night, forcing his bestial urges down with copious blood from the murderers and rapists of the city. At the moment, the thought of a draft of blood made him slightly queasy.

And so, he moved toward the meeting spot described in the notice for a Witcher. He of course, was not a Witcher, but the notice reeked of foul play. Firstly, if there had been a spell-slinging Sylvan in his territory, he'd almost certainly have known. Valter made it a point to introduce himself (a polite way of saying threaten) to any creatures who entered his territory which may disrupt the delicate balance of his ecosystem. That was not the only trouble he had found with the situation, either. He had noticed at least two Witchers in the city, very likely here pursuing the same contract that he was investigating.

Valter felt as if a greater force was at work here, and couldn't help but consider the implications of such things in relation to the recent Second Conjunction Of The Spheres. Was this a trap? After the Legendary Geralt of Rivia's various successes against Eredin and his cronies, most non-human creatures had held a newfound respect and fear of Witchers. So, was it possible that some intelligent non-human creature had set all of this up, in an effort to make the Witchers in the area show themselves? Valter smirked. Of course it was possible. He had just thought of it, so certainly some more malicious entity could do the same.

His musings were interrupted abruptly by a distinctly feminine scream. He turned in the direction of the scream, his supernatural inhuman senses all focusing in that direction. The throngs of people around him began to rush pointedly in the direction opposite the noise, but not Valter. With so much going on in the city at the moment, he couldn't risk something of import unfolding without knowing what was happening. He began to move against the crowd, toward the scream, which would have been difficult if he wasn't subtly using his supernatural strength to force his way.

'Hmmm... this is curious.' The skellige warrior woman thought as she was slowly approaching the village. The scream was only single thing since she heard it, no other signs of chaos happened at least so far. Maybe they saw something scary like a … witcher? It wouldn't surprise her. There is a bounty on a bloody Sylvan after all. She'd better keep aside from any witchers that happen to be around, they could most certainly detect her magic with those amulets of theirs. She didn't want to be dragged into anything troublesome at the moment. Still most witchers she met so far didn't want to also cause themselves problems with tangling with her.

A memory suddenly rushed into her mind as she was directing her horse with great care...

~~~~

“Lady Scilla, don't be like that! If you leave now, I will be out of business by the end of the week! It will bankrupt me!” A rugged old man shouted while the woman was just about to leave his shop. The man had always tried to stay on the woman's good side. She regularly came to his leatherworks to order clothing and so many things he had no idea what she needed them for. This time she had come to request a set of most intricate leather boots. The warrior had even supplied best quality leathers, furs, gold, silver, ivory and a number of other supplies such as snake skin. He was a great artisan, but his shop was a small one and the price on all components was more gold than he had or made for a month. He figured she must be a woman of stature to order such things and this was his chance to impress her and her friends, maybe get more people to visit him. For his worst fears when he left the workshop for just a little while for a work issue, someone looking like him had arrived and his dumb apprentice had allowed him to take all the materials for the woman's boots. Now he found himself in debt as he was forced to pay the woman for the loss. If she left now like that he was done for, he'd never recover from this financial blow. “ Please, wait for just 3 more days, I will find the thief and return the materials! Will even craft the boots for half the monetary price!” The man stated, his apprentice still cowering at the corner. Scilla's reaction whe she flipped a table in anger when she learned had affected him hard.

“From the things I've heard of your apprentice... You have work with some kind of doppler.” The woman replied turning towards the craftsman.” You need a witcher for this job... lucky for you I hear one arrived in town just earlier this morning. My ship's going to stay for 4 days. You have until then to sort this out... If by the dawn of day four the materials aren't found, I'm leaving with this money. Hire the witcher, if he wants to be paid in advance, direct him to my tavern...” She replied leaving the workshop.

“Gods... how stupid can you be! Why would I want to take the materials and leave!?” Scilla heard the craftsman shout to his apprentice after she left the atelier. Later that night was one of the best she had had for a long years to come...

~~~~

She was torn away from her memory as a crow made an ugly sound from a nearby tree. She was getting close to the village. She was curious what caused the scream from earlier, but frankly she also wished it was just someone startling a helpless damsel and she screaming her lungs before calming down. She didn't wish any monster troubles today. A nice bottle of wine would be great though...

(In collaboration with @Kenaron & @Rekaigan)

The wind was nipping in the chill of the night and all was silent along the game trail. It was a thin trail with soft prints splattered across the ground running to and fro, and speckles of blood dotted it's edges like the soft pattering of a paintbrush from a bushy haired man. It was a peaceful night however as the moon was still new to the sky, the light was dim but growing gently with each passing hour. It was through this time that a fair few things had transpired and were working beneath the scenes of the world.

Howling and growling were muttering and clattering against the night, below the tree line this nose arose and yet it was instantly silenced. The world had been made quiet again, the sounds were fierce in their own right and now they were cold and silent. The nose to any ear of familiar trade would recognize the howls of wolves without mistake, but the real mystery is what silenced them all instantly. It was eerie to hear the howling of wolves, but to hear one be cut off without any noise at all.. was far more eerie.

This was what Koldar had heard, and it put him on alert almost as quick as the howls were silenced. Few things could quiet a wolf without a fight and fewer things could silence a pack entirely. However this almost begged a notion from Koldar's mind, for those howls were wolves, but how many wolves were in the area..because Koldar was already carrying three of the larger wolves in the area. They were genuine alpha material, stout fast, and powerful hunters, the wolves hadn't gone down without a fight. Koldar had hoped to kill them like a true hunter with his Crossbow, but after the first one went down with a bolt in it's head, the others weren't keen on the same treatment so they quickly closed the distance. However they took less of his axe before going down than they would have if they went against the Crossbow. This is why Koldar was out though, he had arrived just the day before and he had went out on a hunt. It was for him, his mind, and his relations with the townsfolk. A man who can provide food and safety, even as a Witcher, can still be seen as less of a monster. That is why Koldar always hunted food for the town he stayed in, he hunted meat and hide and he always gave back to those who housed him.

The night continued on much like any other night, the animals of the night roamed and others bedded down, all things either scurried or romped as the moon dragged across the sky like a silver Medallion. The world seemed peaceful in this small corner of the world, as it should be, as all of creation should be, but alas soon came the rise of the morning sun and with it came a new day. Normal people would not think of much of the Morning Sun, however to a man like Koldar the Morning Sun and the Rising Moon are everything.

Koldar was present in the Tavern the next morning, it was here that he found himself most outside of his work and his personal interests, and it was here that he also enjoyed the nature of life. He was taller than all those around him and certainly bulkier too. Many made remarks both kind and not and yet Koldar never dropped his smile. His right hand held a mug fit for a giant and yet it seemed to empty out quicker than any glass. In his left hand was nothing but to the trained eye one could see that the supposedly empty hand was holding something, it was holding him back. His left hand was clenched in a fist, for the town was no Vizima, but it was still Temerian and the racism Koldar heard about the back corners of the tavern were beginning to grate on his patience. While he wasn't one for holding back he was certain going off on townsfolk before work would always be the worst choice. This made him swallow the worst flavor in the bar.. his pride and with his pride came the distasteful nature of having to find something else to occupy his time.

---

Cenkos kept her place atop the trees, munching on some piece of meat absentmindedly. She had already been briefed on how the situation would have to go down, but things were really out of proportion when she first got to the town. The original plan was to hope for some Witcher or Sorcerer to be out of the water regarding the town, as for him to belive that a Sylvan was around, and then try and convince them to join the effort, just to go look elswhere when they had one or two around.

Not counting the other Witcher who was in charge of the whole thing and his apprentice or something like that, they had other four interesting people that came around town for this thing. Four. That was three more than they were expecting. She had no idea what was the plan regarding the situation now, and she had only arived yesterday, so she decided to play spy.

The town was almost like any other town that she had seen for the moment, with its usual people doing usual stuff and being unnaturally boring. But she also wasn't paying that much attention to anything in particular, she was just looking at the town in general to see if anything weird came around. Weird in deed came around, as she could see every day.

Yesterday alone she had seen that apprentice or something boy and the Witcher chief of operations strolling throught the outskirts of town and carrying some slain monster or another, a couple of other Witchers she had been able to spot, besides a Vampire that had come in the dead of night.

The day that was winding down was more of the same, the people were going about as usual, minding their own buissineses, the boy and the chief kept to their training, the vampire came strolling towards the notice of the Sylvan, there were only two things worth a mention: the arrival of a caravan, a caravan carrying a blind mercenary, who didn't look in the slightest suspicious and who had Cenkos' full attention for the moment; and the arrival of yet another Witcher, carrying no less than three wolves behind him. Those two were surprises.

That was, at least, until she heard a piercing scream in the middle of the day, right to her right. She turned just in time to see a panicking girl, trembling under the gaze of a Barghest hound. That was something that she was not prepared for, as she leapt from her branch and unsheathed her silver, preparing to strike the foe in the middle of its neck.

She came right in time, as she saw the monster drawing itself back and the girl cowering behind her flimsy arms, trying to get some amount of cover. Cenkos landed right besides the monster, plunging her sword at the base of the fiend's neck. The corpse burst into flames as the victim opened her eyes and breathed irregularly. Go back to town! Cenkos had her back turned to the forest, but heard a growl and immediately turned with her right arm up, and another Barghest charged right into it. It bit down on her arm, but luckily she had the right amount of armor as to just be injured and keeping her arm.

From her knelt position, she laid on her back and kicked at the beast, sending it reeling back a little ways. But even as she stood up, she heard another low growl from the forest, and knew things were taking a turn for the worst. She saw that it really wasn't one Barghest, the things always traveled in packs, and this ones were no different, being three right there, one already gone and the other two looking at their new prey.

---

In all her years of travelling, Elanil found that small villages had taverns that were almost as busy as the ones that appeared in some towns. At first it was a surprise, but it soon became something she took into stride without a second thought. There was no point in wondering about the reasons why, nor was there a point in disbelief. She had been in this town for a few days already and the locals loved her. Or at least, she liked to think that they did. The tavern patrons often greeted her with smiles and sometimes a perverse look from some of the older looking men. Such things didn't bother the young Sorceress, because she knew that she was in no danger. Townsfolk posed no threat to her at all.

Even in the morning, the tavern was lively. The travelling bard that showed up in town was a popular one, his music was melodic and well composed. Elanil was seated at one of the tables, enjoying the music, feeling the urge to dance to it. Much to her surprise, one of the tavern regulars called out to her, "C'mon Ela! Let's see a nice jig from ya!"

She promptly got up from her seat, a cheerful smile of her face as she approached the bard. A small crowd seemed to gather around the two performers, the patrons giving Elanil a small circle of space around the bard to dance. And dance she did. Her body leapt into action, a series of flowing movements and spins that captivated her small audience, her body moving in sync with the melodic tunes of the bard's voice and lute. At some points, she would flick her hand causing a string on the lute to be plucked gently adding more depth to the song, however such a movement would only be seen as part of the performance. To another sorceress or perhaps a Witcher, the use of magic would be quite apparent.

Speaking of Witchers, Elanil had noticed a large presence of them in this one small town. Something that was very out of the ordinary, but she mostly paid no real attention to it. Witchers did their thing, and she did hers.

---

Koldar was still pesent in the Tavern before the scream was made, and it was during this grace period that he had found the entertainment of a dancer and a Bard. He watched the pair but his primal eyes were more affixed to the female than the bard. Especially when his meddalion gave off the faintest vibration underneath his belt. He could feel it shimmy every little bit when the woman would flick her wrist to the music. He wasn't one for assumptions but once he noticed the faint blue glow that shone from his belt with every vibration he was cetain. She was a mage, it was a simple as that, red would detect a monster and any Higher Breed monster capable of blending into society can by-pass a Medallion undetected.
Despite the Magi and her use Koldar felt no real threat and he quite enjoyed her dancing so he left her to do as she pleased for now. All the while he would watch and drink and occasionally turn to view a new arrival in the tavern. Koldar was enjoying the merriment quite hardily but it did not distract him from his thoughts.
The Contract was for a spell-slinging Slyvan, a rarity, and it had already drawn in an unuausal number of witchers. He had noticed their signs when he entered and the various tracks to and from the village. This is where he began to note many things to himself in thought.

"There are at least three wolves.. likely a Cat or two.. and myself included being the only Bear.. I have also noticed some interesting prints that head towards Vizima that seem to disappear as if they floated away into the sky. Few things can just disappear, hell even a Bruxae would leave a few subtle prints. Something is going on in this town, and I am beginning to believe less and less that a Sylvan.. a being who adopted humanities most ridiculous vices of laziness and glutton, would go around slinging spells and creating trouble. That would be far too much work for one of them. Someone is certainly not telling the.." His thoughts were immediately disrupted by a loud scream, and it pierced through the noise of the tavern with ease. Koldar reacted instinctively to the sound as the mountain of a man barreled through the tavern crowd and kicked open the tavern door.

The door wasn't locked or even latched that tightly and it caused the door to fling open and swing out to the side, it then impacted the wall and flung off the hinges, the sound was a slight burst fo wood as the hinges were forced from the doorframe and it went shuttering to the ground with a loud thud. Koldar cared not for the door or for personal ownership as leaped up and mounted himself atop one of the horses outside the tavern. The horse wasn't his own, and he had no real clue of who it belonged to in the first place, all he knew is that it needed to stride faster as he started to the outskirts of town. Overall it only took him a moment or two before he finally rode up on the scene, a Barghest had initiated another strike on the recoiling female who had already disposed of one and fought the other away.

This time however the female Witcher would not have to engage, as Koldar took his flail from his belt with his right hand and he lashed it back as the horse galloped quicker. Once he was in range his flail was slammed into the side of the Barghest and it immediately met the flail with an unholy howl into the day. The sound echoed through village and Koldar dropped from the horse with a shake to the dirt beneath him. His flail shook and fell to his side with Barghest blood dripping from the craftsmenship. The flail wasn't lit however, it was a weapon of silver destruction and he was ready for anything.

That was.. until the pair of Barghests untied a howl and the crippled Barghest retreated into the tree-line. Their howl combined formed a call.. a call to their master. It was then that Koldar and Cenkos laid eyes on one of the beings of the second Conjunction..

"Foolish Witchers!" An harrowing voice of cold came from the treeline and was followed by a mighty leap into the air. The shadowed figure they saw rise into the skyline was unholy and monstrous. It came barreling to the ground and landed on it's feet with a ground-shaking force, but it's form was covered with a pair of massive wings. They had small tattered holes in them but they covered the ten foot tall creature with ease, and it wasn't until those large wings were thrust open that Koldar and Cenkos laid eyes on their foe.



The enemy was in fact a fleder.. but it was larger, and it could speak. It showed clear signs of higher intelligence, and it featured wings large enough for flight. These wings sprouted from the spine up near the shoulders and they came out nearly six feet to each side, large, bony, finger-like digits stretched through the wings like a bats, and the wings came down to a tail-like extenstion off the end of the spine. It's grizzly maw ran with blood and it's fangs clicked together as it spoke. It's form lowered and it proved to be a monstrous and as terrifying as it's lesser form, but now it was even more so. It's words struck the Witcher's like blinding arrows, they were not expected and they roused a confused sensation of unknowing. This Fleder.. it was clearly a Higher Vampire. It was something never before seen, and now it hunted in the middle of the day!

Ferghus' controlled breaths and light footsteps was drowned by the white noise of an active village at this time of day. Soft whistles of wind and the clattering of branches followed by a sudden draft of cold and unnatural breeze caught the wolf's skin that urged him to follow the path he undertook. It wasn't long until a series od tracks presented itself tattered along the ground like footsteps of army men in battlefield; except the shape of its paws and depth, followed by claws that seemed to scoop the earth as it leapt forward indicated that this was no regular wolves hunting a prey. Among them he too found a single set of small human footsteps-- its intended victim it gave chase to. "A child's in danger." He concluded.

He followed the tracks as carefully as he could-- and upon hearing a frightened horse's neigh, a beast's painful whimper and the clashing of metal to flesh... The witcher's series of fingers formed to cast a protective ward around himself known as Quen as he proceeded to investigate the battle that was ensuing. He felt the adrenaline within enveloping his body as his hand reached the saya of his silver katana.

"Foolish Witchers!" The voice of a throaty pipe smoker was instilled in the mind of the Witcher. Surprisingly fitting for whatever creature that had gained the ability of speech. Many intelligent beasts had uttered the same two words and suffered the fate that befell them for underestimating a Witcher's abilities. This too applied for 'intelligent beasts' known as witchers. Ferghus remained silent and lightly footed in his approach.

Marvels of the Second Conjunction; no doubt. He witnessed before him a large, undead creature with claws that rivalled a gryphon's talons, arms and legs that would even make a werewolf howl in jealousy. Triangular and horned appearance with teeth in dire need of some kind of maintenance and eyes that belonged to an Easterner. He is certain they were stung by bees. Wings adorned this pinkish beast, and it seemed to have learned the ability to take flight with those-- meaning that there was an absolute priority to either sever its wings off or to anchor it to the ground using Yrden. Both were equally difficult tasks thanks to its vampiric nature... They're damn fast.

He had never hoped for a vampire amongst villagers... Especially at this time of day where sunlight was aplenty. Normally this would've reduced vampire's ability to fight immensely enough that they retreat, but to have one brave enough to pick a fight with Witchers in daylight? He cursed himself for not preparing Black Blood or Vampire Oil.

He was also able to observe for three other individuals. The first was the prey identified to be a little girl, with its hunter dead on the ground slain by a fair-skinned beefy woman and a giant with a silver flail for weapon carefully observing the foe in front of them. "Where have I heard that before?" The witcher thought to himself. "May have found the Wraith of Haakland they keep talkin' about." He had hoped that the fleder was still distracted and took this opportunity to do what Witchers do best; improvise. Ferghus returned into a state of stealth and circled around the party in front of them in order to gain an advantage and perhaps ambush this vampire. He drew his silver katana quietly... And proceeded to carefully manuever himself to a position where he was able to overwhelm the vampire from behind or above.

The success of this ambush would depend on whether or not the witchers and little girl in front of him would give away his position by either shouting or looking obviously at Ferghus' position. Then again; if he was noticed by the little girl... That would've meant that he didn't pass his Trials after all.

He was in position and his blade ready. Once he found the perfect moment where the witchers have its attention, he would leap from his position and attempt to eviscerate the enemy in a single downward katana slice in its middle, creating two equal halves of a dead vampire.

Her nice reminiscing about the past was interrupted as she was now getting closer to the source of the scream from earlier. Scilla had fought many things in her time, it wasn't wrong to say that she probably fought a variety as any witcher would, though admittedly she also had more experience with sea creatures than many witchers due the fact she spend over 50 years sailign with Skellige ships. Granted now with the Second conjuring the rules had changed. New stuff was emerging and she soon found herself in the presence of one such creature.

Her trusty horse Aslan quickly got her to the place where there was currently a standoff between what appeared to be two witchers, a beefed up Fleder with wings and two Barghests. She made a mental conclusion the one who shouted "Foolish Witchers!" Earlier must have been the winged Fleder. A talking one of it's breed, now this was a new one. Wouldn't be wrong to call it a higher vampire now, granted it's ability to fly would be the most annoying thing about it, though up in the skies it would be probably slower than higher vampires on ground via simple fact flapping wings wasn't the same as using momentum on the ground. Maybe, she quickly made a mental note to be on guard. Still this was NOT her battle right now, the THREE witchers should have it bagged by the time she reaches the village that was not far now. This thing was hunting in plain daylight, it had some gall.

“Mind you all to hold any possible clashes until I pass?” She asked with rather calm, but still completely serious voice, as if completely not caring about the abomination that was present and it's hounds. She back was straight, her head held proudly as was her general body language. She gave the appearance of a strong proud warrior of Skellige.” I'm not really in the mood to fight right now and I doubt I will get paid for it any even if I do.” She added, her eyes locked mainly on the Fleder. Frankly she'd gladly kill the thing, but didn't really want to deal with it right now when there were others who'd do the same thing and she wouldn't be paid to aid in any way. Still the entire time her focus was set, ready to unleash her magic at the moment's notice.

As she danced, she could feel the watchful presence of someone.. Of course, all eyes were on her as she moved around the makeshift stage, but the gaze of a Witcher was always had a distinct feeling behind it, not that she'd be able to describe it at all. Despite the presence of the Witcher, Elanil continued to use her magic in the playful way she normally does. She was of no threat to the Witcher and her intentions should be clear to him; which they thankfully were.

Elanil heard a scream pierce the noise of the tavern, however her dance did not stop. Or at least, not for the moment. As though it was wonderfully timed, the bard's song drew to a close. She had noticed that the Witcher in the tavern had already left after brutally kicking the tavern door open. The wood splintered and cracked as it slammed against the wall. She couldn't help but flinch as the door was flung clean off it's hinges. Elanil didn't know if the scream was that urgent to respond to, but it was certainly interesting to her. A heroic Witcher, perhaps?

The young sorceress waited as the bard collected his tips from the crowd. As the patrons dispersed to buy more drink, the bard approached Elanil with a warm smile on his face. Her lifted her hand and gave it a light kiss. "That was a wonderful performance, perhaps you'd like to travel with me? Of course, I'll split the earnings with you." His voice was smooth like silk, making his offer quite tempting.

The dancer took half a step back as she brought out her parchment and quill, much to the Bard's confusion. She showed him the note that she wrote, "I'm sorry, but I am just a simple girl who enjoys dancing to good music. I wish you all the best!", she gave him a warm smile as she put away the parchment. The bard simply nodded in acknowledgement, resuming his seat after she had refused the money. She bid him farewell with a bow and a small wave. The patrons expressed their displeasure as Elanil bid them farewell with a slight curtsy.

Now, it was time to follow after that Witcher. The young sorceress sensed the presences of other Witchers in the area as she drew near.. There was another with them? It wasn't a Witcher. Things were getting interesting. Elanil could see the small group surrounding what she recalled to be a Fleder.. Or was it a Fleder? What was it doing in daylight? How strange. The sorceress approached the group from a distance, sitting down on a rock not too far away from them, but far enough to show that she had no intention of participating. She simply decided to watch the conflict unfold. She came to the conclusion that the other woman was a sorceress. It was rare to see anyone other than Witchers and Sorcerers that acted with such disdain towards a massive Fleder.

Of course if it came after her, she wouldn't hesitate to kill it.

The Fleder hissed at the adversaries scowling at the number of attention it seemed to have attracted. "I thought your kind extinct long ago. Yet here you stand before I, Ameranth." The Fleder points towards the child-- who cowered behind the female witcher. "She is a willing sacrificial offering made by the village elders of Hergig. Unless you wish to have this village beset upon more calamities, hand me over the child." The wings of the Fleder began to spread-- clearly signing that it was willing to rip the child off their hands by force should diplomatic attempts fail.

@VKAllen

Yuna hadn't joined the fight yet - namely cause there already was about three or four Witchers engaging the beasts. Anymore and it might turn into a complete brawl at that - what was more interesting, was that namely they had so many Witchers in one place. Yuna had felt it with her medallion - there were too many Witchers in one position and location to be a coincidence.

She kept at the village edge - listening deep to what was going on there. If trouble got worse, than she might be upto charging in to help them - but if it got worse, in addition, to something that would appear to be done by a Witcher or Witchers - then Yuna wasn't much in the mood of getting caught between some angry villagers and professional Monster-hunters.

'Hmmm, interesting. As always the average men are as monstorous as the beasts they fear,' she thought - hearing the beast speak it's demand.

Moro the Muddler had arrived in the village in the early hours of the morning, having taken one of several contracts on monsters in the area around it. He'd heard the rumours about spell slinging Sylvans and overly aggressive Spriggans, but didn't put much stock in them - after all, rumours are as rumours do, and rarely does a rumour meet reality.

However, as it turned out something rather odd was happening.

A creature reminiscent of an Ekkimara, surrounded it seemed by a small score of other Witchers, was demanding its sacrifice. This would not normally have been terribly strange, for a Witcher - but Ekkimara are not capable of speech, and do not make demands. This was, instead, a Fleder.

And not once had the Muddler ever fought a higher vampire.

Briefly, he wondered if Axii might have an effect on them.

The answer was 'probably not, and don't try it.'

"And why does a higher vampire lust after the blood of children? Don't you know that adults have more of the stuff?" He questioned innocently, casually drawing his silver sword as he approached the site of the soon-to-be battle, and surreptitiously cast Quen on himself.

"Frankly I don't really give a damn about the village and it's fate." Scilla stated to the vampire with annoyed voice. This creature was getting on her nerves, she preferred these thigns when they were more mindless and quiet with their thought processes. There was also the other thing that it just stated... the village had sent the girl as a living sacrifice to this Fleder. If there was something she hated a lot in this world was this type of people." Look at the girl, she certainly doesn't seem like a WILLING sacrifice to me." She stated, noting the increased presences that were converging at this location. She sensed troubles brewing. So many people of their vocations gathered at one place by chance was an unnatural thing. Something else was indeed going on here.

"Bah..." She snarled as yet another person joined the fary. Looked like hte next obvious muscle bound witcher, especially judging by how he spoke. She pulled hte reigns of her horse slightly, making it go some steps backwards to move away from the upcoming fight. She vaguely considered bombarding the fleder with kinetic blasts from above, but decided against it at the very moment.

"Child, tell me, did you want to be sacrificed?" She asked, the girl. The only person's opinion everyone here seemed to be ignoring so far." This... thing here stated something, but I want to hear you opinion on the subject."

"Of the child can speak at all right now, you should not need to ask. Who in the world wants to be eaten by that thing?" Moro's eyebrow twitched, as his grip tightened on the sword.

"Really, she should be running. Not like half a dozen witchers can't deal with one of these - even if it is a higher one of these." He half growled at the Fleder, its refusal to answer irking him - and the other witcher's asinine insistence that the child should have her opinion heard adding to it.

The vampire's mouths contract a bellow perceivable as a hiss, as his patience grew thin. The ghostly presence of the barghests began to surround the area between the witchers and the fleder. "You do not care for the village but you insist upon protecting the sacrifice which ties into the fate of this village itself. Wondrous creatures are you, beings of this realm. I'm afraid I've seen through your deceit. Take her." Ameranth points his claw-like fingers at the girl yet again-- this time the Barghests swooped in unison, striking the mages and witchers at the same time.

Ferghus whom had waited for this opportune moment descended from the tree in which he shrouded himself with, silver katana racing down the Fleder at blinding speeds. Yet with an even faster retaliation was made by the Fleder who not only avoided Ferghus' ambush-- it managed to grip the sharp end of the silver katana with one of its hand. A quick hand sign was made and a thunderous force pushed against the fleder as Ferghus dislodged his weapon from the Fleder's hand and followed Newton's Third Law.

His boots scarred the earth, but as his stance began to form-- he saw the fair-skinned woman holding on to the child... A figure began to appear behind them as a wight unveils itself from its camouflage and ripped the child off the witcher's loose protection. It then began to attempt escape.