Geralt of Rivia - Written Fanfiction

Fanfiction by myself, based off the Witcher series. Usually post at 9pm and 9am GMT. Direct message me for queries. Click Here for a current list of all my works. I hope you enjoy, and please give me feedback! Follow for immediate updates.

[thealfanator]

Happy New Year Everybody!

I'm still here! I'm not working on anything since I'm working on University applications and plans, however surprisingly my follower count has done nothing but increase! I wasn't expecting all my awesome readers to stick around, and I'm forever guilty yet grateful.

Hope you had a brilliant 2018, and regardless, here's to the future!

[thealfanator]

I’ve reached 100 followers

I wanted to thank you for everyone’s support over the duration of this Tumblr, this message carrying weight especially to those who I’ve kept a healthy relationship with through private messages. You know who you are, and without you, I probably wouldn’t have had the motivation to keep the writing going. Nevertheless, everyone has contributed and it warms my heart to know 100 of you cared about the time that went into it.

I also wanted to apologise briefly because my fanfiction has taken a swift downfall. I remember busting out chapter after chapter, and remembering feeling great when I improved my writing. I had loads of time on my hands and it felt fantastic! Now, though, I’ve become absent, busy with other time-draining tasks in life, and am left with an unfinished series that I don’t have the time nor the motivation to complete. I have all the notes here in the palm of my hands, and hoped for it to be amazing! I just never had the courage to go back...

I wanted to be honest with you guys, not lie and tell you more content is coming when it has truly grinded to a halt. I’m over the moon with all your overwhelming support, and it has crushed me to abandon it like I have done. It meant I thought I owe it to all of you to write this post to express my sincere apology.

Perhaps one day I may come back to this, but it’s extremely unlikely. Though I have loved every second of this website and the connections I have made along the way, I have focused my time on more important matters; work, education, driving and generally ascending from a college student to feeling like I matter as an independent person. I wanted to branch away into work experience and, eventually, actual employment. And this, however, comes at this unfortunate cost.

However, I have finally found myself. Yes, I have destroyed over a year of hard work on the internet, but I feel more like myself. My career ambition is to be a website developer, not an author. I think cutting off such a draining part of my schedule has benefited incredibly. It’s just a shame I had to let so many others down in the process.

I won’t be cutting out completely! I will still come back from time to time to catch up with private messages and discussions. I’ve made some dear friends and I’m not planning on letting them go. It’s just that my work on my channel is... now dormant...

Thank you for everything, guys. I really mean it. I gave myself something to work towards, and I couldn’t have been happier with the result. Have a good year everybody!

Alfie.

[thealfanator]

Late Again

My uncle has been in hospital with severe health issues and so I’ve been incredibly upset recently and had to put this aside. Surprise, new content is late… again. I apologise but I really haven’t felt up to it right now.

Please unfollow if you feel I’m not satisfying my audience as well as I should.

[thealfanator]

Late Again

My uncle has been in hospital with severe health issues and so I’ve been incredibly upset recently and had to put this aside. Surprise, new content is late... again. I apologise but I really haven’t felt up to it right now.

Please unfollow if you feel I’m not satisfying my audience as well as I should.

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed

I really hope you enjoyed part 2 that a released a couple days ago! I’m now working on a third. Have a good week everyone!

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed ~ Part 2

Triss noticed the howling winds, the clattering wooden boards and the screaming metal latches of the doors. She sat, staring at herself blankly in the mirror. No, not at herself- at the blank wall in the reflection. She felt tired, so tired; like so many things had happened, but everything felt so empty at the same time. She gently picked up a dowsed brush and dabbed it over the side of a half-filled jar before rubbing it elegantly over her cheeks. Sighing, she glared at the note Geralt had left on her desk earlier. As she picked up the note, the winds shuddered the building.

The letters of the fragile paper explained a contract about a mother who had lost her son recently. Not dead… missing. Except there was no current reward for the investigation. Figured; Witchers don’t take contracts without pay. Triss depressed the page back onto the wooden corner of the desk and returned to the mirror, but she still managed to glare slowly to the lonely scroll, filled with the scribbled ink of a poor mother’s plea. It was like Triss’ fingers wanted to caress the scroll, as if she was comforting it like a baby. Poor mother, so poor she cannot even pay to help her own child…

Triss hardly got to ponder over the grabbing thoughts before the door downstairs shattered open wildly. The house shook once more. Great, she thought, the wind is bashing doors off their hinges! She retreated from her seat and walked carefully down the uneven steps.

“Bastard got away with it.” Geralt roared before collapsing into a table.

Keep reading

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed ~ Part 2

Triss noticed the howling winds, the clattering wooden boards and the screaming metal latches of the doors. She sat, staring at herself blankly in the mirror. No, not at herself- at the blank wall in the reflection. She felt tired, so tired; like so many things had happened, but everything felt so empty at the same time. She gently picked up a dowsed brush and dabbed it over the side of a half-filled jar before rubbing it elegantly over her cheeks. Sighing, she glared at the note Geralt had left on her desk earlier. As she picked up the note, the winds shuddered the building.

The letters of the fragile paper explained a contract about a mother who had lost her son recently. Not dead… missing. Except there was no current reward for the investigation. Figured; Witchers don’t take contracts without pay. Triss depressed the page back onto the wooden corner of the desk and returned to the mirror, but she still managed to glare slowly to the lonely scroll, filled with the scribbled ink of a poor mother’s plea. It was like Triss’ fingers wanted to caress the scroll, as if she was comforting it like a baby. Poor mother, so poor she cannot even pay to help her own child…

Triss hardly got to ponder over the grabbing thoughts before the door downstairs shattered open wildly. The house shook once more. Great, she thought, the wind is bashing doors off their hinges! She retreated from her seat and walked carefully down the uneven steps.

“Bastard got away with it.” Geralt roared before collapsing into a table.

“Ow.”

“Keep still.”

“It stings!”

“Of course it stings!”

“Try it gently.”

“It doesn’t matter whether I tap you with it or hit you with it, it will still hurt a ton.” Triss noisily picked the cloth up again and dabbed the graze at the back of Geralt’s head with the soaked oil. Geralt, sighing miserably, glared at the floor. “Alright, tell me again - slower this time.”

Geralt closed his eyes and thought back to the slithers of memories he remembered. Yes, a Witcher. There was another Witcher… two swords; the lot. Geralt swept his forehead as he remembered the figure frolicking away with the trophy he himself had earned. He told Triss – slowly, this time.

“That’s pretty frustrating.”

“Frustrating is an understatement!” Geralt roared. Triss blankly continued, impossibly showing calmness, aggravating Geralt more. Then he stopped and recollected his thoughts. What’s happening? I’m never angry; I’m never this angry. Glaring at the dents he made to Triss’ table, he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

But he couldn’t stop replaying the moment. Geralt never let a kill go. He never failed a contract, but he had let himself down. He had done something he wish he’d never done. Imagine what Vesemir would’ve said. He had failed.

“It’s alright.” As Triss pulled Geralt from his wandering thoughts, he winced as he remembered the pain. It triggered a thought.

“I need to get back. Maybe the contractor, Vorva; maybe he knows something.” Geralt hastily stood. He realised he had never sounded so depressive, so withdrawn. It was as if he had stepped out of his body into another. He felt different…

“No, you stay here.” Triss readjusted to the Witcher’s movements, but it was to no use. He was already at the stairs. “G-“ she sighed, jogging to her table and stuffing the drenched cloth she was holding into a random drawer before prancing down the stairs to catch him by the scruff of his arm. “You can’t, I’m not finished.”

“I need to.” Geralt complied and stopped briefly. Triss noticed Geralt’s broad posture and thought that, if unaccompanied, he would get into more trouble than he needed to. Carefully, she spoke.

“Then let me come with you, alright?”

*

The tavern stank of piss and the last scrapes of bottoms of tankards, and to Geralt’s static prediction, it smelt identical to almost all of Novigrad. As the door slammed open, he snarled as Triss followed. His head still throbbed immensely, but he didn’t have the time to waste. However, he did notice the room was almost empty. It was the middle of the day, after all! He still saw the man he wanted though. In the same spot as when the Witcher left him, as if he hadn’t moved an inch. Figures, he thought; why work when you’re living on a mountain of gold?

“Ah-ha! Gggeralt!” Vorva slurred in a condescending tone. He waved his arms wildly and he thought about the angles he required in order to swipe them off with his steel sword.

“Bald, School of the Griffin, reckless, worn armour, about six foot. Know anyone like that?” Geralt slammed his knuckles on the table whilst Triss perched on the bench quietly. The Witcher was amazed at how much he suddenly remembered. At first, he was like a blurred painting, but now, as if magnified, he saw refined details about the trophy thief.

“Woah, Geralt – calm down! I see you haven’t brought the trophy I asked for. You’re slacking.”

“Answer his question.” Triss pitched, and she reflected his annoyed gaze. He tried to spit words, and Triss reminded him that she was female.

“I’m sorry…” he said, “for my manners.” Clearing his throat, he returned to Geralt. “That’s Dranzen, a Witcher as you have already managed to figure out. I’ve bumped into him many times, but he’s very impatient. He’d rush to get the job done with a careless attitude.”

“Hmm, I’ve noticed.”

“I’m assuming he stepped onto the wrong side of you? That’s why you’re asking, isn’t it? For revenge.” Vorva smiled.

“That’s none of your business.” Triss replied.

“Where can I find him?” Geralt continued, hardly letting Triss finish.

“Find him?” he laughed, shaking the atmosphere loudly, “Where can I find you at any one time, Geralt? One time you’re in Velen, another in bloody Skellige! Don’t assume everyone stays where they’re meant to like a goddamn signpost.” Geralt growled at the man in annoyance.

“Then I’ll stay.” He said before correcting his posture, leaving his knuckles to rest.

“Geralt…” Triss warned, to both of the men’s complete ignorance.

“What the hell does that mean?” Vorva threw the remaining blunt of his toothpick through the air of the room, aiming for the open window but sharply missing.

“He still has the Wyvern’s head, so I’ll stay until he comes back.”

“And you plan to steal it back?”

“Steal? It was mine in the first place! I’m taking it back.”

“Who am I to judge?” Vorva glanced into nowhere. “Well, only one of the richest people in the whole city, so I think my opinion’s quite valuable myself.” He chuckled mockingly. “You’re a fucking idiot, Witcher.” Geralt and Triss started to retreat to the bar. “Can’t you just let it slide.”

More people had entered now, and the two of them had claimed a table in the far corner of the building, ordering a few drinks. Then, they waited. They persevered with keen eyes for the bald-headed Witcher to come in with a massive grin on his face. Geralt looked forward to it, and drank passionately. Triss looked bored and slightly concerned for the events that would take place soon.

*

The sorceress in the flooded tavern sat squashed between elbows and shoulder blades. She looked concerned at the Witcher who drank drink after drink, an ultimate contrast to herself who had barely touched one. She thought he was a madman, whereas Geralt was wondering why Triss’ shape was starting to split in two.

“Geralt, you need to stop.” Triss said to which she was returned with a blank expression. She buried her head in her hands.

“What?”

“I know you’re angry, but you need to be reasonable. I’ve never seen you this bad before!”

“I’m fine.” Geralt lied. Geralt wasn’t lying. He felt fine; in fact, he felt better as the warmth vibrated in his muscles. He was confident and eagle-eyed.

So ‘eagle-eyed’ that he spotted the man a mile away. Bald, bearded, thin… and weak. His figure barely thicker than his skeletal structure. He was talking to Vorva as he handed the trophy across. Vorva then handed him the large sack of coins. Now’s his chance… He couldn’t let him get away. Shoving his way past the other clumps of crowds, he pursued his prey until he came closer. Triss noticed and kept calm, letting Geralt handle this. She had this awful feeling…

Geralt continued. “Dranzen.” He heard Vorva say. Don’t you dare… Geralt laughed hysterically at the time it was taking to reach him like trying to reach the horizon in a boat in the middle of the ocean. “I’d get a move on if I were you…” Vorva gestured to behind the Witcher’s paper-thin shoulders, and that was when both pairs of monster-slayer’s eyes locked. Time seemed to slow. The wolf growled, and the griffin cowered, sprinting off a hallway and up a set of stairs. Drinks gained wings and darted to the nearby walls. People flung their arms and sent the darting men evil glares, but Geralt had to catch him. As he barged through the obstacles at a flying speed, he remembered how his knife was inches away from the wyvern’s throat, ready for the money he so desperately needed. So when he barged through the door of an empty upstairs bedroom, with the target with the pouch; of his reward, Geralt strained his knuckles and prepared for a brawl.

*

“Pass it to me.” Geralt said through angry teeth. He threw a punch through the air, to which the other Witcher dodged, sharp and vigilant. “The money is mine.”

“I think not.” The sober Dranzen replied calmly, dodging Geralt’s clumsy swings. “I need this just as much as you do. I killed the beast-”

“I did all your fucking hard work!” He missed another swing. He struggled to even get near all three witchers, all moving together, all wearing that smug grin. Dranzen laughed. He grabbed a fire poker and used Geralt’s disorientation to toast the point.

“Geralt, I need to make sure you get off my back.” Satisfied with the golden glow, he moved towards the grey-haired drunk. “You need to learn to let things go.”

Excruciating pain painted Geralt’s neck and face and, as he collapsed to the floorboards, he heard a window smash and his blurry foe disappearing beyond it. He swore to himself.

[thealfanator]

Just under 2 hours away!

I hope that those who read it enjoy it and if not, feel free to give me some feedback!

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed Update

Hi everyone!

If you didn’t know already, I have a continuation chapter to my highly requested original: A Sign of Greed, featuring Geralt of Rivia and Triss Merigold. Content production has been really slow, and I’m sorry for that. There are multiple reasons for this; writing is only a part-time hobby and, though I thoroughly enjoy it, it’s difficult to make time. I also have been researching narrative techniques because I’m really interested in how to make a story worth reading! Not only are these two reasons true, but I also was trying to desperately finish The Witcher 3! I’ve bought the other two ready to play, and I’m loving the books too. I wanted to thank you all for your patience.

Chapter 2 takes a dark turn for Geralt. I wanted to paint a morally grey character in him that we perhaps haven’t seen too much of. I felt that the witcher was quite often viewed as the hero in these stories and I wanted to question that. As a result, I think we see the actions of Geralt through Triss’ eyes as she’s withdrawn from the actions and seeing him from a distance, making her see a lot clearer than Geralt is! You’ll have to wait and see, but I’m incredibly excited for you to see this for yourself and for you to let me know how it’s going! 

It’s going to be released at 21:00 BST on Saturday 26th this weekend (05/2018)! (I know I changed it slightly from what I said!) It’s that’s awkward, or if you just forget about it, I’ll be reblogging it on Sunday morning anyway! I really cannot wait for this, am I’m trying to get these out more frequently but I want to make quality not quantity; I hope you can understand.

If you haven’t read the first part, here’s the link: https://thealfanator.tumblr.com/post/172650350146/a-sign-of-greed-a-short-story

I have put this, and every other notice under the #news and #update tags so you know where to search if you want to see if I’ve posted something ever; I do try to keep to 9am/pm so you know when to look! Thank you so much for your never-ending support - I remember when I just started out and had 2 followers, and this growth really means everything to me.

Have a good day everyone!

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed Update

Hi everyone!

If you didn’t know already, I have a continuation chapter to my highly requested original: A Sign of Greed, featuring Geralt of Rivia and Triss Merigold. Content production has been really slow, and I’m sorry for that. There are multiple reasons for this; writing is only a part-time hobby and, though I thoroughly enjoy it, it’s difficult to make time. I also have been researching narrative techniques because I’m really interested in how to make a story worth reading! Not only are these two reasons true, but I also was trying to desperately finish The Witcher 3! I’ve bought the other two ready to play, and I’m loving the books too. I wanted to thank you all for your patience.

Chapter 2 takes a dark turn for Geralt. I wanted to paint a morally grey character in him that we perhaps haven’t seen too much of. I felt that the witcher was quite often viewed as the hero in these stories and I wanted to question that. As a result, I think we see the actions of Geralt through Triss’ eyes as she’s withdrawn from the actions and seeing him from a distance, making her see a lot clearer than Geralt is! You’ll have to wait and see, but I’m incredibly excited for you to see this for yourself and for you to let me know how it’s going! 

It’s going to be released at 21:00 BST on Saturday 26th this weekend (05/2018)! (I know I changed it slightly from what I said!) It’s that’s awkward, or if you just forget about it, I’ll be reblogging it on Sunday morning anyway! I really cannot wait for this, am I’m trying to get these out more frequently but I want to make quality not quantity; I hope you can understand.

If you haven’t read the first part, here’s the link: https://thealfanator.tumblr.com/post/172650350146/a-sign-of-greed-a-short-story

I have put this, and every other notice under the #news and #update tags so you know where to search if you want to see if I’ve posted something ever; I do try to keep to 9am/pm so you know when to look! Thank you so much for your never-ending support - I remember when I just started out and had 2 followers, and this growth really means everything to me.

Have a good day everyone!

[thealfanator]

27.06.18

Hi everyone!

Sorry content production has been slow. I’m now working on the next chapter of A Sign of Greed, which should be great fun to write and read! I’m really trying to take it slower and think more about plot progression and narrative. I’ve learned that pacing is an important ally. Having loads of fighting scenarios makes them dull, but making them few and far between with progression between characters makes for interesting storytelling!

You can find the first part on my blog. Please let me know any feedback or suggestions if you wish and I hope you have a fantastic day!

If all goes to plan, I should be releasing it on that date so keep an eye out!

[thealfanator]

27.06.18

Hi everyone!

Sorry content production has been slow. I’m now working on the next chapter of A Sign of Greed, which should be great fun to write and read! I’m really trying to take it slower and think more about plot progression and narrative. I’ve learned that pacing is an important ally. Having loads of fighting scenarios makes them dull, but making them few and far between with progression between characters makes for interesting storytelling!

You can find the first part on my blog. Please let me know any feedback or suggestions if you wish and I hope you have a fantastic day!

If all goes to plan, I should be releasing it on that date so keep an eye out!

[ashwolfcub]

Hey guys! My piece managed to be accepted and is now on the community vote page! It would mean so much to me if anyh of you guys voted for my peice! If any of you would like to vote for my piece (Or others amazing pieces) vote here  https://www.playgwent.com/en/art-contest/16  with mine on page 16!

[thealfanator]

Thank You!

Thanks so much for all the great feedback regarding A Sign of Greed that I posted yesterday! It’s my most liked post in a long time and I really appreciate it. I honestly wasn’t expecting this kind of reception, especially because I hadn’t posted anything in months!

Thank you 😊

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed ~ A Short Story

“Five-hundred crowns.” The judge slid the heavy pouch across the hard, wooden table, “All yours, Witcher.” The Witcher smiled as he gracefully lifted the pouch and jingled it in his grasp before inserting it back into his pockets.

“Go on, then.” Geralt said sternly, “Show me what you had.” The third man with glasses swore under his breath before showing his cards. Damn! If it weren’t for the Witcher’s charisma, Geralt could’ve lost the rest of his earnings. Geralt’s opponent scoffed and hissed at the Witcher before counting his golden coins, offering another round. In response, Geralt held up his gloved hand. “No more, I’m afraid. I must go.”

“Already?!” The spectacled man exclaimed in panic, desperately eyeing the other man’s purse. “We’ve barely even started!”

“You call five hours ‘barely even started’? No wonder you lose your money so easily.” The man’s face reddened with anger as if it was about to burst. The judge, sitting opposite the two – with a clear view of the battleground in front of them - even leaned back, making his own chair creak monotonously. Looking at the scattered cards upon the table, Geralt stood and looked to the door of the tavern.

“Well?” He asked desperately.

“Well what?” The Witcher replied.

“Aren’t you going to show me your cards?” Geralt stared, the corner of his mouth curving towards the ceiling before turning away from the table. The judge took the hint and started gathering the cards, calmly and intellectually sliding them back into the pack. The opponent’s head started to sweat. “No, Witcher! Come back here! Show me what you had! A three? Or a five?” The door clicked shut.

Keep reading

[thealfanator]

Note

For anyone having difficulties with the new story I posted earlier, such as speech marks (”) having a weird replaced symbol, you need to click on my actual Tumblr page and the issue should be resolved.

Please let me know if there are any further issues!

Thanks for your support. I’ve received incredible feedback this morning and it’s really made my day :)

Also: I’ve shortened it so it has the Keep Reading tab if you wanted to re-reblog it so it doesn’t take over your entire blog with its length!

[thealfanator]

A Sign of Greed ~ A Short Story

“Five-hundred crowns.” The judge slid the heavy pouch across the hard, wooden table, “All yours, Witcher.” The Witcher smiled as he gracefully lifted the pouch and jingled it in his grasp before inserting it back into his pockets.

“Go on, then.” Geralt said sternly, “Show me what you had.” The third man with glasses swore under his breath before showing his cards. Damn! If it weren’t for the Witcher’s charisma, Geralt could’ve lost the rest of his earnings. Geralt’s opponent scoffed and hissed at the Witcher before counting his golden coins, offering another round. In response, Geralt held up his gloved hand. “No more, I’m afraid. I must go.”

“Already?!” The spectacled man exclaimed in panic, desperately eyeing the other man’s purse. “We’ve barely even started!”

“You call five hours ‘barely even started’? No wonder you lose your money so easily.” The man’s face reddened with anger as if it was about to burst. The judge, sitting opposite the two – with a clear view of the battleground in front of them - even leaned back, making his own chair creak monotonously. Looking at the scattered cards upon the table, Geralt stood and looked to the door of the tavern.

“Well?” He asked desperately.

“Well what?” The Witcher replied.

“Aren’t you going to show me your cards?” Geralt stared, the corner of his mouth curving towards the ceiling before turning away from the table. The judge took the hint and started gathering the cards, calmly and intellectually sliding them back into the pack. The opponent’s head started to sweat. “No, Witcher! Come back here! Show me what you had! A three? Or a five?” The door clicked shut.

Breaching the misty evening air, Geralt had to work his eyes to see ahead of him. He admitted it was difficult work despite his years of agile training. He often wondered to himself how he could dance amongst drowners or hurdle over the necks of griffins but now struggle to pull his stiff legs up and over the Novigrad cobblestones. Swords jangling on his back, he continued down the mysterious alley.

“Please, master Witcher, a moment of your time, please.” A poor, bending woman struck the side of him, startling him. His fingers twitched for his sword; how did he become startled so easily? He stood still, analysing the dark-haired, old woman. The Witcher was reminded he had gone too long without a suitable contract, and that other means were necessary to make money. His mind prompted the time not so long ago when he had been forced into the city streets to make money from people rather than the wilderness of No Man’s Land.

“Yes, what is it?” He asked carefully. The woman’s face dripped from exhaustion, as if she’d been running a long time. Her knuckles were pale, like the bones stuck through her skin. She had been scared by something, or someone… no, she was gripping her dress as to not to trip. Perhaps all three.

“I need you to help me. My son’s been missing for almost… well, too long. You need to help me- help my son.” Her eyes pleaded the man. Geralt sighed like an old man and looked around. He returned.

“How much?” he commanded.

“How much?” she echoed, her confused, tired face glaring unknowingly back at him.

“How much do you have for it?” The woman stared frightfully, suddenly shaking her head as if she misunderstood Geralt.

“Oh no, nothing at all, master Witcher. I’m a poor woman with no two coins to rub together.” The Witcher felt his bones ache. He turned and sighed, scratching his pure white beard. It was as if winter had fallen; everybody, including monster hunters, had slowed down – work was less frequent, and when it did crop up, nobody had the funds to supply his wage.

“That isn’t going to happen, I’m sorry. Go home.”

“Please, I- I can get money.” She grabbed his sleeves, shaking the tiredness from him. He saw sorrow; a mother without her son, who cannot even afford a search warrant or an investigation. Geralt was reminded that a Witcher’s life was cold…

“I’m sorry.” The woman passed a shaking piece of paper to him.

“Take this.”

“I cannot take this.” He said, “Come back another time.” He saw her watery eyes glare back at him, unblinking – like that, if she blinked, the Witcher would be gone forever, and her only hope disappeared like breath on a shard of glass. Leaving a last, supporting smile, Geralt wandered back into the mist. The woman cried, alone.

*

Geralt’s eyes tiptoed over the notice board. A man without his broom, a woman out of bread… Nothing a Witcher can fix. He stopped halfway down the wood, his eyes reading another scrawled note. “MISSING SON” The Witcher rubbed his eyes. Mixed guilt and frustration gripped his shoulders every waking moment, and the Novigrad houses leaned in too, pressuring him. But no; a Witcher must receive pay. That’s how he makes his money, earns a living. He had to shut down inadequate funds until something better came along. His fingers itched again. He plucked the notice and stuffed it in his side pocket – maybe later…

Then, he saw another. In large writing, a luminous beam to the message, as if he was meant to read it. The message sat perfectly in the middle of the board, waving his attention. In big letters: “Ten thousand.” His eyes reached out of their sockets. “See contractor for details about the beast.”, “Just outside the city, in the steep hills.” Money was just within reach! This was just what he needed; something to keep him going. He lifted his pouch and realised that five hundred crowns were lighter than he remembered. Yes, he fluked a win, but he had gone so long without refilling the worn pockets of his. He needed the money. He scratched the notice away, tying it with the other. This was his chance.

*

“Anyone home?” Geralt blurted out into the dark, damp room. Despite the darkness, he was hit with the aromatic fragrance of freshly ground spices that wafted through the air.

“You don’t have to slam the door.” Another voice replied from the stairs, in a soothing tone. He followed the voice, clunking up the wooden boards. “It’s nice to see you, Geralt.”

“I like that- the smell I mean. What is it?” Sitting on the bed in the new room he entered, Geralt looked in the figure’s direction, her back to him. The candles glittered perfectly so that her pure red hair bounced back at him.

“Oh, just this and that. I won’t go into the details… Oh, wow. Geralt you look filthy!” Triss swirled carefully on her stool, beaming from across the room.

“I feel filthy. Damn clothes are too… clean.” He stared blankly at the wall opposite him.

“Really, Geralt?” Triss looked inquisitively into Geralt’s mind, trying to study it like a scientist does his crazy inventions.

“I need to get back on the road; my fingers are hurting for my blade. I can’t…”

“Relax. Have you got a contract?” Ah, yes, how could he forget?

“I do actually. It seems quite exciting from the looks of things.” He heard Triss scoff slightly.

“You? ‘Exciting’?” Triss laughed. He continued to fumble about the papers. He chucked the missing person note across the room and perfectly aimed it to lay peacefully on Triss’ desk, prickling the wood slightly with its corners and curls. Triss briefed it slightly before turning back to Geralt.

“Here. Read this.”

“For someone who is supposedly ‘itching to get back to things’, you sure have a lot of scraps of paper in there. What next, rabbits?” She smiled, chuckling slightly.

“Just read the damn script.” Geralt tried to hide his smile. Deafening moments passed.

Geralt noticed the emptiness of the room. The only sounds he heard were the slight cracklings of the candle flame. No creaking of the floorboards. No ticking of the windows adjusting to the chilly air. Nothing.

“That’s… a lot of money there, Geralt.” Triss handed back the paper, then turned her back towards him. She picked up a brush and resumed her magic, patting her face whilst gazing elegantly at herself in the mirror. “You should investigate it.”

“That is my intention.” Like fluttering leaves, Geralt hand tapped the edge of the bed. Should I ask her? “Triss, can I sleep here for a few days?”

“Yes, no problem! There’s a bed we can share…”

“Uh, no thanks. Here is fine.” He tapped the slightly smaller bed he leaned on. He felt her disappointed yet understandable eyes staring through the mirror.

“Alright, get some rest then. I’m getting riled-up at this contract; sounds thrilling!” Geralt balanced his gear upon the chest of drawers beside him. He adjusted his large variety of leather straps and twisted on the soft material. He welcomed sleep graciously.

*

“The creature is a Wyvern.” The man with the plump, bald head said loudly.

“Mhm,” replied the Witcher, “So why is this worth all these crowns if it’s just a simple Wyvern. Any Witcher could handle that with just a few swings.”

“Master Geralt,” the man with no hair exclaimed, “this is no ‘simple Wyvern’; this one is smart and dangerous!” The bald man with weaving yellow and white clothing drank the last from his mug and slapped it back down on the table before waving another round from the innkeeper. He laughed at Geralt and the Witcher tried to hide his horrified expression as he smelt the contractor’s breath.

“What did you say your name was again?” Geralt grumbled, clearly annoyed.

“I won’t say my real name as from the look of you, you wouldn’t be able to say it without your tongue getting tied!” He laughed again, smacking the base of his wooden cup faster and faster in repetition. Geralt eyed it with evil eyes. “But you can refer to me as Vorva.” The plump man adjusted his fat belly and Geralt listened to the creaking of the table they both leaned on. The innkeep danced around the moving table and laid the encumbered tray full of bottles of drinks down.

“I might refer to you as a pain in the ass.”

“Watch it, Geralt. I’m the one with the money.”

“Fine.” Geralt watched as Vorva downed another mug full, “Where am I looking?”

*

The Witcher clambered the high walls. He had traversed the dense cliffs and great foliage of this part of Velen for what seemed like an annoyingly long period of time, and now that he had reached a far, lengthy plain of grass and stone, he was confident he had found the spot. Smelling the crisp, morning air and browsing his full pouch, oiled weapons and chunky vials of liquids, he was filled with assurance that this wyvern wasn’t too much of a challenge at all. His veins itched with adrenaline. He longed for another fight… another dance. His stiff bones had spent too much time inside playing cards to earn his food; he knew contracts during the colder period were few and far between, but this was the worst yet.

Walking steadily along the uneven ground, he noticed something. Something wrong. Something he felt he hadn’t seen before until now. He spotted a trail of blood from the middle of the ground he stood at. It was thick and dark; a wyvern’s. It led in thick blotches further away from him before thinning, scraping around the corner. Geralt slowly drew his sword at the same time as the hairs at the back of his neck stood on edge. This was unusual, and Geralt hardly ever experienced this type of unnerving sensation.

Finally. Geralt’s feet spurred with adrenaline as the creature flew out almost from beneath his nose. Geralt was shocked with how delayed his reactions were and didn’t see the creature coming. But it was already injured. A few cuts coated its lower belly and bony wings. Who had been here?

The Witcher slashed in stiff momentum, struggling to get that eager pounce in. Swiping upwards and downwards, Geralt continued to launch, but his joints wrenched and cracked as they were warming slower than he expected.

The struggle was over quickly, but Geralt still snarled as the wyvern’s corpse collapsed to the ground; that was a poor attempt, he thought. He drew his dry, dusty knife from his leather pouch and aimed for the throat…

His vision entered a blurry state, and he discovered a throbbing sensation in the back of his head. What’s this? What’s happening? He didn’t have time to think. No, he had too much time to think, as his body collapsed to the stone ground, and was still paralysed from whatever had just smacked him. No matter how much he tried pulling his own body-weight, his distorted thoughts prevented him from doing so…

When his vision finally cleansed, the wyvern’s head was already gone. Geralt stared as if he’d just lost a heavy chest stuffed with Florens right in front of his eyes. Ahead of him, however, stood another man. He was bald with a beard… and crooked teeth, and Geralt noticed his thin and slender outline. At least that what Geralt thought… He also had something dangling from his neck… A silver amulet in a shape of an animal which Geralt struggled to make out… As the mysterious figure darted away, blending into the blurred distance, the Witcher saw that he had two swords on his back, dancing lightly as the man jogged. And as the man glanced back at Geralt, bright, yellow animal eyes shone back. Another Witcher, fleeing with the trophy dancing in his grasp. Geralt tried moving his legs, but his left cheek scraped the ground, and Geralt exhaled.