Of Monsters and Men

"We protect people when they need it Veera! We're not indiscriminate killers!" No, he thought, that's only when we're paid to do it. But the still stood. And she didn't seem to have any concept of differences between monsters. Not all monsters were worth killing, not all of them needed to die. Dopplers lived in peace for the most part, Godlings were mostly harmless (If mischievous) and there were always differences. Vampires like Vyle were not necessarily evil, but she would have killed him all the same. "I won't let our name become a byword for mass murder!" He held his sword in a high guard to his right side and watched her advance. His left hand flicked into Quen as she sent the Igni flaring for him, charging like a berserker behind it. He crouched, tensing his leg muscles, preparing to spring when he needed to. Then she did something unexpected. She jumped, and in a split second the Witcher dived forwards headlong into the flames. The heat washed over him and the Quen Sign broke, which defended him from the heat. He sprung up to his feet and executed a half pirouette to face her. She was facing away, giving him a chance. His thoughts travelled back to a time when he was in a bar with a bar fight going. The words "Kick his legs out!" echoed in his head. And so, he did. Derrick raced up to her and swept his legs into the backs of her knees and pulled her down with his left hand. When she was on the ground, he dropped the sword and punched her in the temples as hard as he could. Veera was out cold.
"Sorry, but it has to be done." He said solemnly before picking her unconscious body and slung it over his shoulder. The city wasn't far off. Maybe he could find his way back to somewhere safe. Maybe. Hefting her weight, he walked towards the city. ​

 

​

"Wh-What should I do?"

The boys nervous tone drew a mixture of amusement and sympathy from Ellyn. She smiled, and simply told him, "Hold on tight!"
With a gentle but firm tug on the reigns, Oak suddenly wheeled around on a dime, and almost galloped out of the yard. Turning his head to the western road, Ellyn reasoned that if the Nilfgaardian camp lay to the west, then this would be the best road to start off following. After that though, Gordon's guidance would be invaluable; the boy would know all the shortest roads, paths, and tracks, cutting their travel time down significantly. Hopefully. Time was of the essence right now. Not for the first time over the last few days, she wished she still had her pack-horse with her to carry both her armor and Oak's barding. She would have to get another soon...
As they passed by the last few buildings in the village, Ellyn addressed Gordon again. "I need you to take me the fastest route possible," Ellyn told him over her shoulder. "No matter how muddy the track or deep the stream. Just yell and point when we need to turn."
With those final instructions, she tapped her heels into Oak's sides, murmured a few words, and the stallion increased his speed to a canter, only held back from a dead gallop by his mistresses firm hold.

​

Below the palace in Novigrad, mingling in the local's celebrations, Evander drank the health of Princess Annabelle Dragoncrest. He drank to it so much, that in all probability he had consumed an entire barrels worth of drink. Much more, and he would probably die. He didn't care.
Seated on a large empty barrel, his feet dangling a few inches above the ground, the mage raised a mug of ale high above his head. "Here's to the Princess! Here's to her glorious father, the fucking king!" he roared. "And may the royal Dragoncrest's go on to have many more heirs, with which they may continue to oppress the people's of this stinking shithole of a city!" He stood up on his barrel, oblivious the angry glares some nearby people were giving him for his comments. "To the royal wench!" He raised his mug again, took a long swig, lost his balance, and fell down onto his back with a heavy thud. Some people laughed at the drunk, others shook their heads and glanced nervously at the nearest guard.

Evander simply lay there, staring up into the sky. The truth was, the sudden elevation of this young girl to such a position of power awakened old memories. He remembered how he had suddenly gone from a humble masonry workshop to the royal courts of Aedirn to be trained by the resident mage during his initial years, how Evander himself had been appointed the King's Councillor Mage after the former passed away. His power and prestige had only increased from then, earning respect and authority in the Council of Mages, distinguishing himself in the fight against Nilfgaard, and to top it all off, marrying -
STOP. He let the memories go. He was simply Evander now, a drunk, with no hope, no prospects, no power. "I want to die," he whispered to the sky fervently.

Helloooo Evander.

 

Veceslav looked at his younger collegue who was angry at him. Which was quite understandable, but that didn't justify it. He let the younger witcher vent all his anger and sheathed his sword.
"Are you quite done now?" Vecsalv said, it had been a mistake to be so easy on him all friendliness that had been on his face had turned stone cold. "He isn't going to, I sent him to Sigmund for a reason. As for your sister, we're witchers first and foremost, monster hunters, we are to act as we see fit. Killing this man would have left the girl in the same situation as your sister. This should be taken into consideration, not staring yourself blind at one piece of the larger picture. You are letting your emotions cloud your reason and yes I might be rather lenient here. You want him dead, it ain't the answer, be pissed at me go ahead. After all you yourself have set on a genocidal crusade against dopplers so what does that make you huh?" His tone was sharp every word meant as a cold stab.


The one Witch hunter who stood over Ana died instantly as Batman Vyle landed upon him, while he was distracted with Ana the others melted back within the thicket and spread out surrounding the pair, the five of them were evenly spaced around the two and when Vyle started to move with the intent of going back to the city they struck. From the thicket dimeritium crossbow bolts flew, two towards Teliana one of which struck in her left shoulder not too far from her heart. And the other three flew towards Vyle coming from behind him.​

 

​

Veera's last view was that of the sky, and Derrick looking down on her. I have lost. She let her anger cloud her judgement, and she was going to pay the price. Well if this was going to her last moments on earth, then she had something she should have said a while ago. She looked up at her witcher brother, and opened her mouth. "I-" the sword came down quicker then her lips were able to move, and she was painfully removed from consciousness.

​

Zack sat by the city gates, tossing a rock into the stream. The guards had refused to let him in, on the basis that too many suspicious characters had come through recently. Right. He tossed another stone, staring into the freezing water. It would mean eventual death to jump in, but it might be the only way, if he couldn't get past the guards. Zack decided to wait, watch, and see. Perhaps it would be the one decision he made right today.

​

Tessa looked up at the bartender, vision slightly bleary. She wanted to say something, anything to Seth, but really, all she wanted was to lie down. The idea of sleep terrified her, but it also called to her. Torn in two, she could only cling to the doppler and hope that this turned out for the best. She just wanted to lie down. Or had she thought that already? Her mind was starting to muddle, taking comfort only in Seth's touch and his whispers in her ear. But those had both stopped as they waited for the barkeep to answer.

​

Ana cried out as the arrow struck her shoulder, and raised her hand, instinct telling her to burn the other arrows. Instinct didn't plan for the dimeritium shackles, and she gasped as the arrow pierced her hand, nearly knocking her mind into unconsciousness. It'll never stop, it'll never end. The despair she felt was nothing to what she was going to feel if Vyle suffered at her hands. "Go." She whispered, cradling the injured hand in her lap, every movement causing the blood to ebb from the wound. "Please, leave me. Just get away."

She wished she could take back her plea from earlier, and put on a braver face, but it was too late. She was slowly despairing she would ever get away from these hateful creatures, but even if she didn't, then Vyle could. It was getting harder to breath, and she coughed, panic bubbling in her throat. The arrow put enormous pressure on the muscles in her chest, and each breath hurt worse then one of Milosh's turkas underneath her fingernails.

​

Bryce listened to one of his birds, before a smile spread across his face. Not only were his followers ready to strike on the morn, but the witchers appeared to be fighting against each other. If only he had known their bonds of comradery were so strained, he would have struck sooner. Ah, but the timing would still work. He had a plan, after all. And it seemed it would work so much better then he had originally thought. He leaned back, staring at the wooden ceiling. After spending so much time underground, he longed for the sun and fresh air. But that wouldn't do much, except make him an easier target. Should anyone come after him, he wanted them to work for it.

Inevitably, his thoughts turned to Tessa. Had she survived the horrible wound he had given her? A part of him hoped she hadn't, just as strong as the part that hoped she had. This world was a terribly cruel place, and he had tried to protect her as long as he could. Originally Sanctuary had been a much more pure place. Dopplers had been safe there, and that was how the name had been chosen. But all good things came to an end, and his happy days with Tessa were gone far too soon.

He sighed. However it happened, Tessa would not be part of the battle tomorrow, and that was what mattered. Nothing to distract him, or deter him. In the end, he would win. He had been planning far too long to fail.

 

​

Vyle brushed the tears away from Ana's face. She was so beautiful, he hated to see her like this "Ana... I..." Suddenly there was the unmistakable thwish sound of crossbows firing. Time slowed, he watched in horror as a crossbow bolt pierced her shoulder, then another. Reacting with incredible speed Vyle turned and lunged to the side. One bolt glanced off his arm, another missed him completely. The last hit his arm and he felt an explosion of pain flare up as the bolt penetrated his skin. Dimiterium. Crossbows, the coward's weapon. But it was lucky, because now they would have to take the time to reload, giving Vyle time. He wanted to turn back and murder them all, he wanted to pile up their bodies and set them on fire... but could he leave Ana? No. Reaching over to the bolt Vyle grimaced as he pulled the bolt from his arm. the barbs dug into his skin, ripping it apart as he pulled. Throwing the blood-soaked bolt away he hurriedly transformed. It wasn't good for him, shifting this quickly while injured, he would have to rest when he got back. If. No. When. Picking up Ana Gingerly with his clawed feet he tried to be as gentle as possible, and began to flap his wings and fly away. One wing was injured, the injury carried over from the bolt. He was slower than he would have been but the moment he got into the sky he would be safe from the crossbows, they weren't good when it came to range.

 

Hauling her back to the city wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. He was glad that she didn't wear too heavy armour otherwise it might have been a lot more effort. He managed to make his way though Oxenfurt and to an inn not too far away from where the abandoned warehouse that they had found the cages was. That seemed to be a hotbed of activity for the moment and it would be easier for the others to find them if they were close by. In fact, he made a note to the bartender to tell any Witcher they saw that they were in a room upstairs for the moment. That should in theory make it possible for them to find he and Veera, assuming they figured that he'd stop close by. Once he got upstairs, he swung the door open and lay Veera down on the bed. He rolled his eyes. They gave him a double bed. Clearly the owner misunderstood the situation. He removed the swords from her back to allow her to lie easier and leaned the pair of them, straps included against the bedside table. He rummaged through his belongings and pulled out some gauze and bandages and wrapped that around her leg wound to stem the bleeding. Although small, if left untreated it could have been infected. Derrick finally sat down at the table in the room, having cleaned her wound and dressed it, leaning his swords against the table. He recovered a sheet of paper and a pen and began to write an explanatory note to Veera, just in case he had to leave before she woke up. For now, it was time to wait.





"Left! Right! Left! Down that bit over there!" Gordon's instructions were of the highest quality. That is to say, vague at best. It would have helped if he had pointed to where he meant, but every time he moved one arm off her he felt as if he was going to tip dangerously and plummet hard to the ground below. Oak was a big horse and falling looked none too fun. However, despite his dodgy directing (And a few wrong turns through two streams and nearly over a broken bridge) they drew close to the encampment. It had been a little while since he was out with Boenn, who showed him around the area as a boy. Ultimately, Boenn had decided that the boy was not a natural hunter and so returned him to Dave to go train as something he would be better at. Farming. "There it is! Over there!" And there it was. The large wooden walls that hid behind them rows upon rows of tents where man and horse milled about. The noise from the garrison could be heard from even this distance. They'd soon arrive at the gate. He felt a little apprehensive as they drew close. These were the invaders of their lands. It was... Terrifying to think that he would be getting so close.




The runners bearing their reward soon arrived. He received it with scarcely a nod and told them to inform the one that reported to that they could find Adolin and Alanna at a certain house near the city centre. He thoroughly expected that they would be required again soon for something and he was more than ready. Once all that business was over, he was going to get the man to call in his contacts. They had to find some explosive material somewhere. Lots of it.
"So, now that we've just kidnapped a woman and left her to an uncertain fate, what do we do now?" She asked, reclining on the sofa opposite the Doppler at the table with one leg slung over the other. Her partner did not respond, his face impassive as ever as he brooded and ruminated over what they were going to do now. It was however, nice to be back in the home that her old teacher had given her. It was just as she remembered, with the burgundy drapes and pillows, it was all very nice. Not that he noticed any of that, in fact he treated it with the same regard as anywhere. That was to say, none. She couldn't tell whether that was his Witcher's personality, or just his own showing through. Alanna sighed emphatically and stood up. "I'm going to take a bath. Top floor. Don't come in unless it's to rescue me from some terrible danger." She didn't even wait to see if he would acknowledge her and climbed the three flights of stairs to reach it. It was time to put Marla's little contraption to the test again. She had installed a system similar to that of the bathhouses with their water drains and taps with a bit of magical assistance. She even managed to heat the water too. Once she turned the crystals that controlled it, she was not disappointed. She retrieved a glass bottle from one of the many cabinets and poured some of the contents in, filling the room with the scent of lavender. She sighed happily. Finally she could get clean and relax for a while in peace.

Adolin remained downstairs. When she went upstairs, he stood up and started to walk around the house, familiarising himself with it. He explored the downstairs, the sitting room he was in, the dining room and surprisingly expansive kitchen with all kinds of apparatus. He raised an eyebrow. He never would have imagined Alanna or her teacher to be such enthusiastic cooks. Some of this looked to be from Zerrikania, somewhere foreign at least. Purely for cooking though. According to Carrak's knowledge, none of this really seemed to be alchemical equipment. The other notable thing downstairs was a sizeable wine cellar. He hadn't imagined Alanna to be a drinker either. He trudged up the stairs to the next floor. Bedrooms primarily, though there was a space for one to relieve oneself. As he stepped into one, he saw it was a fairly plain room in comparison to the others. Two of them were quite large, with vanities, wardrobes and chests of drawers and shelves, though one had all its drawers pulled out and were emptied. Upon an examination of that particular room, he had determined that the owner had left. He judged it to be Alanna's teacher's room. The other was obviously Alanna's room. This one must have been a guest room. He'd stay here, he supposed. He moved up to the next floor, noting that it was the last was he was permitted entry to. It was completely bare. The entire floor was visible, an entire wide space the width of the whole house but nothing inside. The medallion started vibrating at something that wasn't him for once, and with a bit of Carrak's knowledge he pieced together that this must have been a magical workshop of sorts. He could hear water upstairs, that meant it was a no-go. He'd check that out later.

For now, Adolin returned to the guest room for a moment and looked in the mirror at himself. He looked at the harsh, bearded face of the Witchr and the Viper medallion that hopped around incessantly on his neck. He had to take a break from this form. He closed his eyes and it was done in moments. When he opened his eyes it was another, more familiar face staring back at him. The long blue, ragged coat, the long and messy black hair and the clean shaven face. More importantly, the array of swords strapped to him. The real Carrak of Cintra's blades hung on his back, the blade he slew the Witcher with on his left hip and a belt of throwing knives robbed from the Witcher along his chest. Even in his non-enhanced form, he had trained this body, he had fought with this body. It was ready to be a lethal killing machine. He was ready. It was nice to be in this body again, if only for a while. ​

 

Ethan's pov:



He watched Ellyn take off on a horse. There was the whole manner of working on the farm, but that could wait for now. It might be better to head off. He could talk to Wilfred or who ever when he came back. It was time to head off to Novigrad to find the Sorcerers or king Archon. First he would try the sorcerers in Novigrad and if they did not work out then he would try to find this king Archon. After all of that was said in done he would come back to this village and see if he could somehow get some money. He turned and began to walk out of the town. Hopefully the Endregas would not bother the town again. There were two this time but who was to say if there was anymore around. He hoped that there was not a nest near by, but hopefully if the Endregas came out Wilfred could take care of himself. He continued to walk out of the town, Ellyn had a horse such a faster way to travel then walking. That said he had his own way. He turned around to take one last look at the village he just left. It was in the far distance now. He was now far enough away to open a portal and not be spotted. He had done it once, but he was not sure how it worked. He just thought of a place he wanted to go and it opened. Take me to Novigrad a portal opened and he stepped though it and it closed behind him.


Olivia's pov:



Time seemed to go on forever and Derrick was still not here. Men who need them. They promise one thing and then they do not even show up. He had forgotten and she had things to do. She walked out the door of the library and headed north. She had almost had forgotten why she came here. Time to see what this town had to offer. She continued to walk. This town had a layout she knew well. She would continue on her path until she got to where she needed to be.

 

​

"Kill me? Alright, I want you to remember that." Kruez replied, scoffing at first. That scoff was followed by him chuckling a bit to himself. Kruez held out his index finger and traced in the air the numeral 0. "Your endless journey has come to an end, come forth Fool!" As Kruez opened his hand, a bright light appeared and started to take the form of a gun. Now one could question would anyone know what a gun was in this universe, but that's a bridge to be crossed later. For moment after the gun had fully formed, two shots were fired from the weapon. One landing in the goons foot while the other ended up in his lower leg. "And this is why you don't threaten strangers. Now sit right there while I handle your friend."

Kruez's faze turned towards the other one, who already had his sword drawn ready to fight. Instead of saying something smart or taunting the man, he simply took a step forward. That one step prompted the man to take one step back. Kruez took another step forward and the man took another one back. This little game of their's went on until the brute found himself with his back against the wall. Now with nowhere left to go, the brute resorted to actually using the weapon that he had with him.

While it may have been a bit late to not let the mage get to him, it certainly wasn't to late for him to try and fight back. To that end, he swung the blade in an attempt to catch Kruez's head. The mage retaliated by ducking under the sword, during which Kruez fired off two bullet into the man's gut. Just before he could make another swing, the pain from being shot in the gut caught up to him and brought him down to his knees. Blood started to seep out of the wound, followed by the man falling on his side. The man had a chance to survive if he could get to help, but he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon nor was his partner. But just to be certain of that, Kruez shot the man in the leg.

Now all that was left was to get Tatiana out of here. Kruez made his way over to her and removed her bindings and gag. "You should probably get your brother or someone to teach you how to defend yourself." He then tossed his cloak over her as to give her some way of covering herself. Seeing as how she wasn't in the best condition to walk, he helped her onto her feet and walked her towards wherever would be a good place for magick to timeskip the from.

Sweallow chuckled a bit to her response. If she could make responses like that, then she must have been feeling better then yesterday. He placed his hand to his chin as he thought about when an full heal should be expected. "You should be able to move without too much pain in your back in a few days, as for a full recovery. That should take up to a week."

​

With all the running that Zephyr had been doing, it was somewhat impressive that he hadn't fallen over due to exhaustion. he was nearing that situation though, he burning of his legs could only be ignored for so long before his body made the decision that his brain didn't agree with. Zephyr had just ran past the city gate, but paid no attention the the guards that were there nor the man who was throwing rocks near the river. Though hopefully the man noticed him, for that was when he legs gave out and Zephyr fell into the river.

 

​

Teliana felt herself dropped, and then picked up. Am I...flying? She couldn't feel her neck enough to move, but the sensation of open air underneath her feet was disconcerting. "Hey.....Vyle..." the words dropped from her lips like drops of rain, lost to the wind around her. "Why did you come back?"

His answer was lost to her as she finally succumbed to the pain, and let go, letting her mind float in the black unconsciousness it so deeply craved. As the numbing void surrounded her, she managed a smile as her eyes closed. I'm glad you did.

​

Zack jumped up as the figure ran past. That was..."Hey!" Zack leaped into the river after the mage, gasping as the cold water pierced his skin, driving thousands of needles into his body. "Hey!" He managed to shout again, somewhat more weakly as he swam towards Zephyr, grabbing the mage's body and struggling to drag him to shore. The current of the river wasn't strong, but the waters were deep, and Zack had never been an adept swimmer.

More hands reached down, pulling him and Zephyr from the waters. The guards on duty, while not allowing him to pass, had decided that letting him drown was perhaps a bit too far. He gasped his thanks to them as he reached down, checking the mage for any signs of life. Luckily, his lips were still parted as he breathed, his chest moving underneath his drenched clothes.

"Take him to that inn, down there. They'll help ye." The guards offered, looking properly ashamed of themselves, or so Zack imagined. He reached down and slung Zephyr's arm over his shoulders; if he had to drag the mage there, he would do it.

"I got you, buddy." He muttered to Zephyr as he began to haul him to the inn. "I got you." Where he got the endearing terms from, he didn't know. But Zack felt a kinmanship to the mage, after all, he had watched him be sold by a man Zack had thought was a great leader and a personal friend.

The inn in question was nearly full, but the woman at the desk made an exception when she saw their soaking clothes. "You're lucky I've a soft heart." She commented, handing him a key. "It's a room next to some witchers, but make no mistake, my husband said they looked to be involved in themselves. Ye should have no trouble."

Zack grimaced, but took the key with thanks, it was a free room after all, and started up the stairs. They would just stay out of the witchers, and when Zephyr was well enough, they would be on their separate ways.

 

"The history books or the populace will not be so discriminate. A Witcher present at the killing whether he drew his or her blade or not will all be branded as murdering freaks. As I taught you but clearly not damn well enough you know damn well that dopplers like Higher Vampires and Succubi are sentient monsters and should be treated as humans. Sigmund will know what to do and he will punish him fairly you can be sure of that. Now if you would open your goddamn eyes. And sure you want me to say it? Fine she is your ****ing sister, you blame us for getting her into dangerous situations yet you abandoned her in the first place." Veceslav's words once more were like knives, she wasn't his charge to keep and it wasn't his fault in the first place she was now here in the city. "And for the record, you shouldn't be looking at me, I left her in the care of Derrick and Olivia and while the latter is a bit of a numbskull, Derrick is quite trustworthy, because you two decided to go on a genocidal crusade against all Dopplers and I came after you to stop this utter idiocy before it starts, though if what Sigmund told me was true, I guess I am already too late... I might as well go back to the goddamned Kaer to prepare the reception of another angry mob." That last part was loaded with venom, more than the young witcher had ever seen of him. "And remind me to kill you the next time you break the laws, seeing that is obviously the way you think this world works."​

 

​

Because it's my fault you were taken, because I need you to help me catch Solomon, because... in truth, Vyle did not know the answer to Teliana's question, but fortunately he didn't have to answer. Vyle landed a short distance outside the city and transformed back into a human, he would carry her the rest of the way. There had to be somewhere nearby he could take her, he did not know where Derrick or Veera had gone, or those dopplers. He had to get Ana to a place of safety, and he didn't have any money on him... Well once again he felt himself relying on others, Derrick had probably taken an inn room for now... perhaps... it was a long shot but he had to try and find the witchers. By the gods, he was going to owe them a massive favour. He burst into a random inn near where he'd first found Derrick "Greetings, is there a witcher staying here? No? Very well" the second place to try would be an inn near the abandoned warehouse "Greetings, is there a witcher staying here? Upstairs? Thank you my good man" Vyle knew he was drawing glances from around the room, it wasn't every day a man walked in carrying an unconscious woman, both of them bleeding pretty badly. Vyle burst into Derrick's room "... Good news" he stated. He was aware of how strange he looked right now, but he didn't care, he just wanted to help Ana. Without waiting for Derrick to respond Vyle placed Ana on the bed. Suddenly, without the adrenaline of trying to find safety, Vyle felt tired... so tired... he hadn't felt this tired in a long time... also he was losing blood... lots of blood... was his jacket red before?... no... "Oh... I'm sorry" abruptly, Vyle fainted, and landed heavily on the floor.

 

As he sat at the desk, focusing on the writing he wasn't entirely focused on what was happening around him. He wasn't sure how to phrase exactly the fact that he didn't have any real hard feelings and the lie that they were going to tell to Veceslav about how her sword got damage and the fact that she had received some moderate wounds while he had none. It would be a hard sell and would entirely depend on both of their abilities, but mostly his due to the nature of him being the witness to what occurred in full as Veera was knocked out. Therefore, when the door slammed open and Vyle came stumbling in, he was entirely caught by surprise. Quick as a flash, he pulled his steel sword out of the sheath against the table and darted back, knocking over the chair. Luckily, the vampire was focused on other things, and unceremoniously dumped the woman he was carrying, the one he had seen with him on the road, on the bed. He stumbled and the Witcher dropped the sword and raced to Vyle's side, catching him before he could collapse.
"Bloody hell Vyle." Derrick muttered as he eased him on to the floor. On the way in, he had seen his horse standing around looking lost and he had recovered the stuff that he had kept with it, including his camping supplies, and left the horse in the stable of the inn. Strictly speaking, he didn't need to sleep but it was refreshing. He laid out his blanket for the vampire and placed him on top of it. He looked at the woman he had brought in. "By Melitele... What the ****?" There was a bolt in her hand that he hadn't yet removed. Good thing too, it could have been messy. Worse than that was what he saw on her fingers. Middle fingers, ring fingers, pinky fingers... Nails all removed. The emotions of a normal person had been stripped away from him, save only the greatest extremes, but he knew this was wrong. It looked like they had been cauterised, so they weren't a worry, but the bolt was. He retrieved a pair of pliers and a hell of a lot of bandages, as well as a few of the ointments and salves that he carried. Carefully, Derrick removed the bolt and was surprised by what he found.
"Dimetrium bolts?" Then it hit him.

She was a sorceress.

Her fingernails had been removed, a common method of torture. The warehouse not far from here, with the cages and Dimetrium shackles... He put the two together. She must be one of the sorceresses. She must have been the one that they took. Bastards. For the next part, he was glad that she was unconscious. He applied various natural solutions that would have stung and burnt were she awake, all of which aided the healing process and ironically, would numb the pain after a while. He bandaged the wound immediately afterwards, satisfied that after the ointments had been applied that the wound was clean and wouldn't fester. (If there are other wounds, assume he treated those too).

He looked to the vampire and removed the bolts from his body, seeing that they were the same Dimeritium. Obviously he had found the people that took her, though who they really were was a puzzle. The urge to find them only increased. He was going to take reports of this to Archon, and he was going to make a job out of this. He was a killer of monsters, but the one that had fainted in front of him was infinitely more noble than any of the people that took that poor woman away. And they were probably humans too. No matter. He'd do the right thing, and make a tidy profit from it as well. After all, Witchers didn't work for free and he certainly didn't. Besides, she wouldn't be able to complain. After all, she'd probably want to get back at the people who did this to her and to have a Witcher, a famous killer beyond what ordinary humans could be, would be something to tip the odds far into her favour. He'd discuss it with the two once he got an offer though. For now though, Derrick disturbed them no further. He had reached the limits of his healing. What they would need now in time. In the sorceress' case, a long time and a lot of magic. Many sorceresses used magic to make themselves beautiful, she could do the same to hide what had happened to her, but the scars on her would remain. Not even time would heal those, he expected. ​

 

The night in the city was tense. The cold winter air burned the faces of many as they looked to the moon. Folk barricaded themselves in their homes, or drank themselves into a stupor to forget. The smart quietly packed their things and left, choosing their safety over their homes and a few belongings. Here and there, small bonfires burned strong and steady the fire light illuminating the faces of those that crowded around them for warmth.

On first glance, they might appear to be simple farmers or laborers, too poor to own homes of their own, and avoiding the hovels they did call their own. A second glance, if one dared, would show the stone cold faces, or perhaps the eyes that glittered with a dark light. If one waited a little longer, they might catch a glimpse iron and steel, shining for brief moments before covered once more.

These men were anything but simple laborers and farmers. They were anything but men. And they waited, these complicated creatures. Waited as the moon rose and sank in the sky, each hour becoming more tense, their pent up fury radiating further and further. Others joined the group; men, women, teenagers, anyone who could and wanted to hold a weapon. The first guard to try and smother one of the bonfires disappeared. He would be found in the river, with his throat slit.

Finally, as the first of the sun's yellow rays appeared over the horizon, the bonfires were extinguished, one by one. The small groups became a larger crowd that grew less silent with each added member, more violent with each new shout. They circled the town square fountain. Some's faces were streaked with blood from their night time excursions. Some were clean, and others were dirty from forced camoflauge. All carried the same angry expression, the same violent gaze as they stared at the figure who stood on the fountain, commanding their attention.


​

Bryce looked at the sea of faces, and smiled. He hadn't expected such a turn out, honestly. For so long, dopplers were used to be downtrodden, stepped on, and smothered. It seemed he wasn't the only one who wanted to walk in the light. Who wanted vengeance for the lives taken. He raised his silver sword in the air, and a rousing cheer went up with it, forcing a shiver up his spine. Truly inspiring. He thought as he looked at that crowd. But now he must be more so.

"My brothers and sisters! Today is the day we stake our claim in this world! Too long have we let others choose our fates for us! They have tossed us into the fire!" With this a louder roar rose up; they were angry. Good. "They have fed us to their dogs!" He cut the air, growing angry at his own words. Careful not to become immersed. He reminded himself.

"They have taken our children! Our homes! Our lives!" Another roar, this one the loudest of all. He lowered his sword, feeling the sun warming at his back. Almost. "But today, we take their children! We burn their homes, and we destroy their lives! BLOOD FOR BLOOD!" At his final words, the sun rose, peeking it's golden head above the horizon. And across the city, the world was set on fire as the Church of the Gods went up in flames.

"Blood for blood!" The crowd, now an angry mob chanted, thrusting their weapons up into the air in time. Bryce grinned. "The first of our family to bring me that witcher bitch's head, will be remembered forever!" He called, hopping down into the crowd. His two bodyguards followed him, weaving through the crowd until they were at the head. "BLOOD!" He yelled, charging forward into the city. The guards at the edge of the square met them first, and Bryce raised his sword, ready to charge. Instead, they simply bowed their heads and stepped aside. "Spare our families, sir, and we'll not do aught against you." The guard commander offered. Bryce looked from one side, to the other, gauging the reaction of the crowd. They were still sane enough to listen to his commands. He turned and nodded to the commander, and the guards quickly dispersed. The townspeople however, were not so intelligent.

"Monsters!" They called out, raising their pitchforks and hand made spears in defiance as they gathered. How pitiful. While they had thought themselves in their homes, Bryce had been arming his people, his army, with swords and spears made from iron, bows and arrows made from the finest wood, and shields strong enough to take the force of a thousand blows. He charged forward into the fray, the two armies colliding.

Truly, the sounds of battle were glorious. Screams and cries sounded in Bryce's ears as he slashed through a farmer sideways, blood and organ matter spattering his face. His next victim, a woman, screamed as she fell to the ground, her belly split open. "Witness us!" He hissed to her before stepping over her writhing and soon to be corpse, crossing swords with a pikeman. In the background, the Church burned high and bright, while smaller groups of dopplers broke down doors, killing fathers who tried to defend their families and dragging women into the streets. We will never be hidden again. Bryce thought with glee as he parried a blow from the pikeman, and stabbed. Never.

The pikeman fell, and he stepped over him. Word had been brought to him of the young witcher that had followed the woman, Veera. What better way to help Veera understand his situation then to take her family, the same way his had been taken from him? "Oh Aaron, I have something special in mind for you." he whispered, wiping his sword on the body of a teenage girl before striding away from the battle, his two bodyguards once more at his side.

​

Veera jumped awake as the sound of a roar, and was out of the bed without a moment to lose. She reached for her sword, and her hand grasped...air. She stared, confused, and then with growing horror as she turned around. What in the fu- "Derrick!" She spotted a familiar face and practically darted to it, hands clenched. "Where are my swords, why is there a woman in bed with me, and where the hell are we?" A glance out the wind revealed in the dim light of dawn to show the Church of the Gods, which had conveniently not been mentioned before. "We're in Oxenfurt?!" She screeched. Her head was pounding, as though she suffered from a hangover, but witchers couldn't get drunk. "Derrick," She said again, trying to calm herself but unable. "Derrick, why aren't we at the Kaer? How did we get here?"

​

Zack couldn't sleep, no matter how he tried. He tossed and turned, half the time getting up to make sure the mage hadn't frozen to death, and the other half of the time just staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts turned and twisted on themselves, until he wasn't sure what was right or wrong, or most importantly, what he should do. Dawn came all too soon, and with it, the sounds of a riot. Zack didn't want to look out the window, didn't want to go out the door. Instead, he shut the shades, and made sure Zephyr was in a comfortable position before pressing his back to the door, covering his face with his hands. "We should have left." he muttered to himself. "We should have left this cursed city." Because once the mob became blood thirsty enough, how would they be able to tell who was a doppler, and who wasn't?

 

The night was a peaceful one, little of import happened. Derrick picked up his steel sword from the floor and resheathed it, he checked his weapons were in good condition and sharpened them. The Witcher kept a watchful eye over his charges, deciding that if being a Witcher ever got old he could probably make a good career as a doctor. Not that anyone would want to be treated by a cat-eyed freak like him, but that wasn't his problem if they'd rather die. He sat down

He heard it first. He could hear a roar in the streets, a rally of some kind. He stood up to go look outside, but he couldn't see anything. And as if she was awoken by the sound, he heard Veera stirring. He looked over at her as she came round, but something was wrong. She wasn't angry. She was panicking, as if she was lost. He allowed her to vent her confusion before she turned to him.
"You don't remember coming to Oxenfu-" He gasped, but stopped. He immediately felt a sense of guilt, a true sense of it since it managed to pervade even the dampening of training and mutation. That blow to the head did more damage than I thought. Amnesia...? ****! Suddenly, the lies that he had concocted were not only to be directed at Veceslav, but also her. This was wrong, but it was the only way that he could think of to handle this. But this was a chance. Perhaps now he could turn her away from her genocidal wishes. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes "Your swords are leaning against the bedside table Veera. You and Aaron came to Oxenfurt, maybe you were coming for a job? In any case, the rest of us are here. I was supposed to be meeting Olivia but I've got no idea where she is. Aaron and Veceslav shouldn't be too far." And then it was time to expl- She doesn't even remember Vyle. This is bad. Very, very bad. Oh ****.
"That man there, his name is Vyle. Believe it or not, he's a Higher Vampire but he's a good one. He rescued that sorceress, her name is Teliana by the way, from some people who tortured her. Horrifically. You met him yesterday while he and I were looking for her." The noise outside was getting louder and he was getting more and more concerned by the moment. He could hear screams mingled in. He nodded towards her weapons. "Strap those on. I have no idea what's happening out there but it doesn't sound good." Derrick released her and strapped on his sword, attaching his weapons to himself with professional dexterity. He could feel his amulet vibrating. Derrick clasped it. What the...? There was a scream from outside and he flung the window open to spot a man thrusting a spear through a fleeing woman's chest, about to advance on her child. A man lay dead further up the alley, presumably the father. The Witcher's medallion seemed to be indicating that the man was the source. He didn't have much time. He pulled his crossbow from his back and fired it. The silver bolt struck the man straight in the skull and he collapsed, dead. His image flickered as the silver hit.
"A Doppler attacking people on the streets...?" He was suddenly reminded of Veera's talk of Dopplers and how she was furious that he had let that one live. Was this... Was this what she feared? He gritted his teeth and put the crossbow on his back, then drew his Silver Sword. "Silver for monsters Veera, and it sounds like there's a lot of them out there! Dopplers, rioting in the city! What the hell happened?" ​

 

Olivia's pov:



She continued on her way north. She was not sure what to do. The town stretched on forever in every direction. Derrick was lost to her and she was not sure where he might be. That was when the madness started. Everyone started running. Her amulet vibrating. This was not good. Oxenfurt the city of Dopplers. She had to get off the streets and fast. She began running the streets as fast as she could. She was looking of a escape any escape would do. The various roads blended together as she ran. She was hoping to find something anything. This was beyond stupid. This town was full of Dopplers and here she was on the streets of their home town. Hundreds of Dopplers were everywhere. One Witcher by there self would be spotted a mile a way and killed on the spot if she was lucky. She was all alone with nothing to help. She rounded the corner finding a creapy old looking building. This place was as good as any to hide in. She pushed on the door and it opened right away. She gathered it was abandoned long ago based on looks alone. That and the door was not locked. Once in she pushed the old door closed and locked it. She hoped that this would keep her safe. She would have to wait until the Dropplers went by now there was no way she could fight a hundred or so by herself. She slightly wondered where everyone of the Witchers had gone. She hoped that they were safe somewhere somehow.

 

At the sight of the wooden walls of the camp Ellyn pulled on the reigns, slowing Oak to a trot. The beast was breathing heavily, tired out from the pace he had set carrying heavy armor and two riders. A short rest would sort him out in no time, but they wouldn't be able to gallop any amount of distance should they have to make a quick escape. However, Ellyn was fairly certain that it wouldn't come to that. In any case, she wasn't going to leave without Matilda.
They reached the camp gates, outside of which stood two(?) guards who once they noticed the riders straightened up and gripped their weapons in readiness. A few feet away from them Ellyn stopped Oak, and spoke to the guards.
“Greetings, soldiers,” she called out to them. “I am Ellyn of Greenwood, searching for a girl I believe was brought here by one of yours. Matilda is her name, of Pontarsfork. Tell me what you know of her, or allow me into the camp to make my own inquiries.”


Stumbling up a rise and half falling down the other side, Evander was running. Dawn was just breaking, and the city of Novigrad was many long night hours behind him. He had left by the northern gate, but he had a vague sense that he was now heading west. Or was it east? He didn't know, and it didn't matter, he had to run. What was he running from? Not from It, no. It was always present, looming up behind him, like a hand about to latch onto his shoulder only vaguely seen from the periphery of his vision. Only he couldn't anticipate when that hand would land. He knew that it should never had got to this point.
He crashed through some bushes into a tree ringed hollow, and finally collapsed to his knees, exhausted and alone. Thank god he was alone.
Only you aren't really alone.
Evander shuddered. No, not alone, but far enough away from everyone else.
It laughed a low, mocking laugh.

 

Ethan's pov:



The road to Novigrad was a long one. The city of sorcerer. Soon he would find the answer to the black sword he was carrying around. He was unsure what he would do next. Maybe he would take up some classes at the sorcerer school that was there. Then came the issue of money again. He would sort that out when he got to Novigrad. He was far enough away from the village of Pontarsfork. He could see the lights and town of Oxenfurt he was not going there. It was time for Novigrad. I want to be in Novigrad he thought. The portal opened and he stepped though. The portal closed behind him. He steeped onto a old dirt road. This was not Novigrad that was sure. It should be around here somewhere. He spotted the lights of yet another city this time not know what one it was. He started walking towards it. Stupid portal, he thought to himself. Whatever the city was it was miles away. He just had to hope that it was Novigrad. There was so much going on right now he was not sure how to take it all in.

Olivia's pov:



The old building was dark despite the sun outside the building. The sound of mice could be heard throughout the building. As she looked around she spotted dust everywhere. Spiders where sure to call this place home in fact she spotted some rather large webs. This told her one thing no one has been in this building for years. There was no foot prints on the dusty floor other then hers. She could feel the cool breeze of the wind from what could be a open window or a broken one. That was when she heard it people from outside. Did the Dropplers see her go into the building? She hoped not. Please do not come this way, she thought. 'look at this old building,' a voice said. No, she thought do not com any closer. The sound of someone walking up to the door of the build could be heard

 

​

Vyle sat up abruptly. Right, he was lying on the floor, his arm was bandaged fortunately... somehow. By the gods, he owed Derrick a massive favour. "Apologies, my friend" Vyle stated without expression "For bursting in so abruptly" Vyle stood up straight and smoothed out his coat. Looking out of the window at what Derrick was so enthralled by, Vyle saw chaos on the streets. "The dopplers appear to be rebelling" Vyle pointed out. He watched with hatred as dopplers on the streets murdered townspeople indiscriminately... This.... this was unforgivable. Vyle was about to vault out of the window and begin slaughtering dopplers there and then... but... Ana was not safe here. Vyle was torn, on the one hand he'd pledged to help the witchers... on the other... this was Ana. Turning to Derrick he made a decision "I'm going to take Ana to a safe place, then I'll return to help"

Willow ducked and wove amongst the crowd as their glorious leader Bryce rallied his troops. Today was the day, today was the day the dopplers would strike back. Willow was not being paid for this, why was she doing it? Patriotism? Revenge? Whatever the case, she could see it becoming a lot of fun. As the horde charged into the city Willow clambered to the rooftops and scouted out the situation.

The horde of dopplers passed the abandoned orphanage by, mostly. They were too busy killing the inhabitants of occupied buildings. However, one doppler stopped by the building, and cautiously entered. The shapeshifter waved a sword around as if he knew how to use it. The orphanage was dark, no traces of life within. Deciding it wasn't worth it, the doppler turned to leave "Hey, don't leave so soon" The doppler was startled by this mysterious voice "Has the fun started then? Well, I better get started" screams could be heard from the orphanage, as a terrible fate befell the doppler. A moment later, a black clad mage opened the door. A group of dopplers stopped, and stared
"There's one! Get 'im!" they yelled, taken over by the bloodlust of battle
"Oh no, I don't think so. Meet some of my friends" Sololomon tapped his foot, and behind him approached several pale figures, one of them the doppler who'd entered the building. As the undead creatures stared with glowing blue eyes, the dopplers began to realise they'd made a mistake. But it was too late. With a horrifying screech, the creatures lunged forward with undying fury. The dopplers tried to fight back, but they were caught off guard and had no idea how to fight these creatures, who moved with far more vigour than they'd ever had in life. The smallest child leaped up onto one of the doppler's heads and began viciously tearing at the man's face, gouging the man's eyes and pulling at his hair. Two of the undead children mobbed a doppler and ripped the man to shreds. When Solomon was done, very little was left of the group, and what was left was risen up as more minions for Solomon's army. "I feel like I'm going to have a lot of fun" Solomon rubbed his hands gleefully.

​

Archon walked into the dining room with elegance and poise, guiding Annabelle by the hand "Breakfast, dear Anna?" Archon gestured to the elegantly laid out table...

Bramwell stood at the back of the army, gazing out upon the battlefield. These dopplers, they were creatures of hatred and spite, seeking vengeance. They murdered indiscriminately... what could they do about this? Was there anything they could do? They had to defend the city, this was not about politics anymore, this was about lives. But... Archon had demanded they would not interfere unless he ordered otherwise.

...Archon took a large serving of bacon and eggs, and gave some food to Annabelle "Eat up darling, I suppose you're not used to such good food"...

Sylvi stood silently in the alley, invisible. What the dopplers were doing was simply horrible, murdering innocents who didn't know any batter. The guards were the only smart ones here, they knew they couldn't face the horde. Sylvi wished she could do something, anything, to stop the slaughter. Archon should have sent in an army, he should have protected the city better, he knew this was happening why didn't he do anything? Sylvi watched with horror as a doppler cut down a group of people.

...Archon cut into a hash brown and munched on it calmly. He knew what was happening, but his plans did not involve interfering at the moment. There was movement around the palace, undoubtedly the battle had begun. Archon simply sipped his tea calmly.