Sour grapes(closed)

[AsgardianWitcher]

He hated training exercises. Despised them, really. Yet, as the Knight Captain of the Duchess of Toussaint(a mouthful of a title), he had to attend them on occasion not only to spur the rest of the guard through their exercises, but to let Toussaint's Royal guard know that he wasn't an assimilated court politician. In the past, there had been a stigma on the position that aggravated him greatly, one that even his predecessor had not been able to shake. Damian had warned him about how he would be perceived by his men. He could hear the words bouncing through his skull now as he passed the dimly lit lanterns of the Cockatrice inn:


"Volgorl, things will not be the same! You will be considered beneath the politicians whom you are sworn to protect, yet those in your command will look at you as one of the politicians! Confusing, isn't it? But that's what comes with the post."


He snorted a laugh at the recollection. Damian had been drinking a bit too heavily that night, but what had he to lose? He was retiring, getting a fat pension from the Duchy and would finally be able to relax those bloody shoulders of his. Never once did Vol see his former commander's shoulders relax. They were always taut, rigid. He didn't understand that until he received the position himself. With so much on the line at seemingly EVERY instant, Vol hadn't the slightest idea how to relax, even when he wasn't protecting the Duchess or other royalty that happened to be with her. A mischievous smirk came cross his face. Other royalty, indeed.


His horse suddenly slowed from it's triumphant gallop to a simpering trot, the beast snorting, neighing and making a gigantic commotion on the starlit path.


"Come! Almost home, almost ho-" His horse raised it's front legs, the knight captain's relaxed grip on the reigns costing him his seat on the saddle, flying onto his back. Grunting with effort, he raised himself, dusting off his chocolate colored trousers.


"We're going to have a talk when we ge-" Hissing. His right hand gripped the handle of his blade, sliding it out of the scabbard just enough so the widest part of the blade glittered in the pale light of the moon. Suddenly he became painfully aware of the noisy chainmail covering the leather chestpiece he wore, the clinking of his studded gloves. More hissing. Coming from all around him on the empty path. Drawing his sword fully, he proclaimed:


"Show yourselves! You might receive a bit of mercy for surrendering now instead of paying with your lives!" The threats didn't deter the hissing, which came closer. From the northwest corner of the path came a beast...then another. He had seen these before: wide bodies with spider-like legs, sharp protrusions coming out of each appendage.


Kikimores.


His horse had ran off, allowing him to survey his attackers. There were five of them, converging on his location. It was true that Vol had strength on his side with his burly frame and sword skills, but not even one of his might and experience could tackle FIVE of these creatures without any assistance.


"A first time for everything." He muttered to himself as a Kikimore lunged at him with a poisoned limb, the knight captain dodging right and slicing vertically, chopping off an appendage. This seemed to enrage the others, who were now sprinting towards him.


Wonderful.

 

[StoneWolf18]

Monsters were always a problem. Whether physical beasts or the mentalities of Men and Mer, work should've been in abundance for one who hunted them. But there was a slight problem. Ekrah could've been considered a witcher, she had the medallion around her neck, the swords on her back, as well as the knowlage and skill to prove it. Yet there were still a few problems. First off her school, the School of the Cat wasn't very respected due to the...falling out they had. Thought to be nothing more than sell swords for even the worst of tasks. So there went a touch of respect there. Next, she didn't have the signature eyes one would, obviously alluding to the lack of trials she had completed. And that would bring me to the final point, for she was a woman. And there was no such this as a so called witcheress. With all this added up, it equaled for her to be only pushed away. Many claiming for her to be an imposter and trying to steal their crowns because if a whole village of men couldn't take down a simple werewolf then a lone woman couldn't.


It didn't bother her, for she expected the refusal. This caused the woman to become quite pessimistic in nature. So she was rather surprised when she had been hired to hunt a few kikimore that were causing trouble not far off. Ekrah couldn't hide her small bits and pieces of joy as she prepared, sharpening and applying an insectoid oil to her silver blade as well meditating breifly to get her thoughts in order. That was what then brought her here, rather late the moon only offering the smallest illumination. It was at times like this where she became rather jealous of witchers who survived all the trials, being able to use elixirs such as Cat or simply adjust their pupils to take more light in. Lost in her internal bickering, the shriek of a horse is what brought her back to the present. Looks as if the kilimore had found someone else before her. Ramming her heals into Malik, her stallion's side, the woman made way towards the sound as fast as she possibly could.


The first thing Ekrah saw was the glint of a blade, next, 5 of the foul insects surrounding what appeared to be an armor clad knight. Leaping off of her mount, managing to remain on her feet, she drew her oiled silver blade and rushed at the kikimora closest to the figure with the sword and thrusted it forth. It landed near the beast's face, it cause a growler hiss before ripping itself off of the weapon and growing a bit more cautious. Good. It knew it hurt. "Are you alright?" She asked who she now saw to be a man next to her before slashing at the next one who crept forward.

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

Vol had just pierced the belly of the Kikimore that had attacked him, the beast rearing up on it's hind legs to try and crush him underneath it's weight, which made the blow all too easy. Insect gore splattered onto the path when he felt a rush of wind, then a shriek of agony from one of the creatures. His aqua colored irises found a woman next to him, her impressive physique visible even in the dim lighting. Female soldier? Mercenary? Did it matter? He had an ally in this fracas.


"For being surrounded by a bunch of flesh-hungry creatures, I suppose you could say I'm alright." He caught sight of her slash at another charging Kikimore and whistled softly. The way she wielded that blade, her like-likening quickness...his luck certainly won out this night. With two of the creatures wounded, the other two blindly charged forward, attempting to knock the duo over with their perceived power. Vol rolled to his right, managing to get behind one of the creatures and slashing once again at the appendages, managing to sever one before using the momentary pause of the Kikimore's charge to react to it's pain to sever it's fat body in half. He was pleasantly surprised at how well he was doing against such menacing creatures, but then again, he knew that these were more than likely workers sent out to forage rather than the warriors he had only heard of. He was about to charge into the fray once more when he spotted an outline...a form about eighty yards off. The form's arms were raised, a light glowing at what he perceived to be the hands. Could've just been a traveler raising a lamp to find an item, but the light was tinted light green. A moment later, the light grew stronger in ferocity, which in turn led to the remaining Kikimore's slicing at the duo as fast as they could. As he dodged yet another blow, he shouted to his companion:


"The light off the path! Think it's connected to these things!" Before they could get to the potential source of their trouble, they had to deal with the rest of their attackers...

 

[StoneWolf18]

"That can't be right..." She muttered whilst landing another fast blow on one of the unscathed kikimore. Glancing to the man beside her, Ekrah commented "Your blade isn't going to be doing much unless forged out of silver so I suggest being a bit more cautious." She finished while dodging another swipe, this one being wounded so it was slower than normal. It gave her a chance to land a the sharp edge of her sword on the limb, it slicing through skin, muscles, tendons, and bone before falling to the ground below, the beast letting out a painfilled roar before retreating slightly. Giving quite the opurtunity, the witcheress rushed forward and sank the blade into its skull, the creature let out a dying wail before collapsing on its side.


One down, four to go.


Ekrah slid her weapon out of the beast and was about to turn around, if she wasn't met with a rather harsh smack to the face. She was thrown back at a decent height, though managed to right herself somewhat as she landed. That was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow, but that still didn't change the fact that she needed to starting hurrying up. A sour look set upon her face, the woman readjusted the grip upon her sword.


This...wasn't going to be fun.

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

"Oh come now, I think I'm doing some...damage..." The corpse of a Kikimore with a severed appendage collapsed to the ground, Vol aware that the beast this helpful woman had just killed was indeed the same creature that he thought he had killed when he sliced it's stomach open AND sliced a leg clean off. The woman was obviously armed with the proper weaponry and if Vol couldn't be helpful in this battle, he decided it would be best to tackle the potential root of their problems.


"Hold them off as best you can! I'll see if I can be of help in another way!" With that, he sprinted towards the figure in the distance, eyes narrowing upon seeing the figure's arms extend forward. The swirling green light began to morph into a dark blue, a stream of the light hurtling towards him. He rolled right, the figure stepping forward before shooting off another blast. Vol could now make out some of the features of his brazen assailant due to his revealing himself. He was tall, statuesque almost in frame with narrow eyes and a sharp nose that jutted out of his face. Pointed ears accentuated the severe nature of his features. An elf...an elven mage, no less.


The mage's attacks halted for a moment, his face contorting in anger. He cursed in an unknown tongue and ran back towards the tree.


"Get back here!" Vol growled, racing right up to the elf's back and raised his blade. Instead of landing a successful blow, the elf spun on his heel and dodged out of the way, waving his hands at the Knight Captain. A rush of wind punched him in the chest, staggering him towards the tree. The elf smirked, muttering something in a very condescending tone before the dark blue light began to form on his palms once more. With a grunt, Vol stood up, leaping to his right to dodge another blast. No way could he get close enough...it was a long shot, but Vol had practiced the attack enough for situations where distance was the only way to dispatch an opponent. He grabbed the hilt of his blade and in a smooth motion threw the blade parallel to the ground. The mage's eyes widened as the blade sunk into his midsection, collapsing to his knees. Vol strode forward and withdrew his sword, the now deceased mage collapsing.

 

[StoneWolf18]

As the knight ran forward towards whoever was in the distance, the witcheress was how stuck facing four kikimore with only three of them partially wounded. Gritting her teeth, she flicked the blood off of her silver blade and waited. One of the wounded ones took a chance, being overly confident due to how they outnumbered her. It rushed forward, swinging one of its front limbs and trying to smack her. But Ekrah was able to jump over the blow and sink her sword into its appendage, the beast snarling in pain as it was sliced off. It now enraged, the monster let out an angered bellow before swiping blindly with its intact forearm. The woman then blocked one of its thrashes before slaying the somewhat confused creature.


Three more to go.


However, this wasn't good. She was growing fatigued and with one unscathed, there was a great risk. But just as they were going to begin their assault, the overgrown insects stopped in their tracks before immediately scattering. Puzzled but none the less thankful, the half-elf kept her sword at the ready before making her way over to where the man stood with what looked to be an elf. But once she noticed the sword sticking out of its torso, it was obvious that the Mage was nothing but a corpse now.

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

Vol heard the Kikimore's squeal in what sounded like a blend of fear and pain, spotting their scuttling outlines in the distance as they fled from the scene. The woman had killed two of them, but the other three seemed in fine enough condition to cut her down, confirming his suspicions that the elf indeed was somehow involved in the surprise attack. The Knight Captain withdrew his blade from the corpse and found himself next to the woman, who had seemingly teleported to his location. He let out a slight chuckle.


"You, my friend, have a soft gait. Admirable." Sinking to one knee, he began to sift through the elf's clothing.


"Nothing...nothing...ah." A gloved hand retrieved a heavy pouch of coin in one of the inner pocket's of their former attacker's tunic.


"Here. Call it my first token of appreciation." He threw the pouch to her, his fingers catching on the edge of what felt like the border of an envelope or a thick piece of parchment. Withdrawing the mysterious item revealed a rolled up scroll bound by a black ribbon.


"A commission to attack random road dwellers? Or something more intriguing?" Vol wondered aloud, unbinding the scroll, eyes searching the words written in a slanting lilt. It was a short command, but one that made the Knight Captain smile broadly:


Make sure the Captain is dead. We need the body.





Standing fully erect, he pocketed the note, then spoke:


"You've helped me a great deal this night. Allow me to repay the kindness once more by inviting you to Beauclair castle. You'll be able to rest, take whatever supplies you need and..." He looked at the two hilts jutting out from her back.


"I might have a job for you...Witcher." It didn't take a sorcerer to divine that a person so capable of slaying monsters in a graceful manner such as hers was a Witcher. Of course, the twin blades were a dead giveaway.


"I would prefer to address you by your name, of course." He extended a hand.


"Volgorl Massani, Knight Captain of the Duchy."

 

[StoneWolf18]

The witcheress rolled her eyes as he mentioned her stride though didn’t comment on it. That was to be expected from someone from School of the Cat. As he handed her the weighted coin purse, she gladly accepted the payment and nodded in gratitude. “I haven’t been payed nearly as much before, you have my thanks.” The knight stood with a bit of parchment clasped in his hand, a smile touched his lips as he read whatever was upon the paper. Yet as he invited her into the castle to spend the night and resupply as well as offer her a job, she grew a bit wary. “Ekrah Feyrn, Witcher as you already have guessed or part one anyway.” She met his hand with his, shaking it firmly. “I don’t get much respect due to my gender, heritage, and occupation. There a particular reason you haven’t threatened to hoist me up onto a pyre yet?” Whilst awaiting an answer, the woman whistled and called for her mount, the stallion trotting up beside her.

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

"Because, if you are not aware, Witchers in Beauclair are held in the highest regard. After all, it was a Witcher by the name of Geralt of Rivia that reunited Anna Henrietta with her estranged sister, Syanna. If it was not for our friend Geralt, we would not have had the ability to maintain such political stability. The Duchess was..." He trailed off, chuckling.


"Forgive me. I don't think politics are what you want to hear about right now." He looked for his steed, finding the outline of a large horse gobbling up grass near the sight of the original attack.


"That's my stallion for you. Always putting his stomach first before the safety of his rider." Vol motioned for Ekrah to follow him to the steed, the Knight Captain looking east towards Beauclair, a grimace crossing his face as he reached the chestnut colored animal.


"I don't trust the path this deep into the night most times, but especially not after our most recent encounter." He mounted his horse, then told his new companion:


"Let us retire at the Corvo Bianco vineyard. It's only about a thirty minute ride from here. The majordomo of the estate should be able to find us reasonable accommodations, especially with it's master not in town. Barnabas is quite reliable when it comes to matters of hospitality. Come."


"How dreadfully awful of you to say, Knight Captain!"


"Indeed, Barnabas. If it was not for Ekrah's impeccable timing, I would've been but another food source for the Archspores." Barnabas-Basil clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, adjusting his obsidian colored spectacles on the bridge of his nose before resuming his stance, hands behind his back, shoulders straight. Even late at night after being roused from slumber by a half-awake gatekeeper, the majordomo managed to put on the best kind of hospitality. After placing their horses in the nearby stable, they were ushered into the home and seated at a large, rectangular table, which was quickly furnished with fruits, vegetables and cured meat that was on hand. The home itself was decorated with a number of interesting choices, including a portrait of a white-haired man holding a blade in his right hand, a slightly built woman with the same color hair standing next to him, blade in her left. Armor and weapon stands littered the area with gleaming chestpieces and steel blades of the highest quality upon inspection. One could have easily believed this to be the estate of a former knight who had gone into wine, which wasn't far off from the truth.


It was after Vol had recounted the night's events with Barnabas that the Majordomo addressed Ekrah:


"Forgive me for not mentioning this earlier, but my patron, Geralt of Rivia, is also a Witcher. I'm sure that he would endorse my telling you that he has amassed quite a collection of arms, books and other such items related to your profession that you could peruse at your discretion. If there is anything you would like to use during your time in Beauclair, please inform me and I will see if it is an item of particular import to Master Geralt; if it is not, feel free to use the item while in Beauclair. Please know that the guestroom upstairs as well as the master bedroom downstairs are ready for your use. If there is nothing else, I shall retire."


"Of course. Thank you, Barnabas."


"Thank you, Captain, for allowing me to be of service." A smooth bow at the waist and Barnabas was gone.


Vol placed a half finished piece of salted beef on the plate provided, gazing at the Witcher, examining her. In the illuminated home, her ebony hair and dark eyes made her tanned skin that much more striking. She was an attractive woman, to be sure.


"Well, my friend, I must ask: how did you stumble into the Witchering trade? I don't know of any female Witchers. I have heard of an ashen haired Witcheress that prowls about the North, but I dismiss rumor until I see them for myself."

 

[StoneWolf18]

Once they reached their destination and Geralt was mentioned mutiple time, Ekrah was hit with quite a few pangs of jealousy. But because she was in polite company, epecially those she had recently met, it was safer just to offer Barnabas a curt not and a murmured "Thank you." Before focusing upon the food laid out before her. The witcheress also deciding to dine on the cured beef chewed and swallowed before answering the knight's question. "She isn't a witcher and in a similar condition to myself, despite a few differences though was the main reason I am even here today and not rotting at the bottom of some river. I was born into poverty, unsurprisingly, my father had been an elf who was killed and my mother in no condition to even try and support the both of us. I had been recruited by a member of The School of the Cat, or what remained of them anyway. They were trying to see if girls could survive the trials, the most intensive being the Trial of Grasses. Basically it's a elixir that makes the body eligible for more mutations and how witchers gain their cat like eyes and immune systems. Anyways with young boys the death rate is high, only a few able to withstand the torment physically and mentally most dying a horrible death. But with girls, both trials they ran all ended up deceased. I was set to apart of the third but it never came. And so they issued minor mutations, nothing even that significant to mention, before training us all similarly. But then we were all stuck doing meaning less chores around the fortress, not allowed to leave because we all weren't fully fledged witchers. Yet after awhile with most complaining about being cooped up, they allowed those who wanted to leave to leave, and those who wanted a medallion to retrieve one and be able to achieve a similar title as a male witcher."


Ekrah had stopped speaking, leaving room for him to absorb all she had just said and for her to continue eating.

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

He watched her body language as she told her story for any indication as to how she felt about the events she was recounting, but to him, her tone was more than enough. There was a touch of gratefulness for being able to be on a "similar" playing field as male Witchers, but there was an underlying....bitterness? Potentially anger? Jealousy? Cynicism? Or maybe he was reading too much into her tale, seeing as she was more than likely exhausted from being on the road most of her days and had just left a fierce battle with monsters controlled by a malicious mage.


Probably the last bit.


When she stopped speaking, he nodded, sinking into the back of the chair.


"Well, no matter what your creed says about your status as a Witcher, I think you handled yourself quite well out there. Much better than my feeble attempts against those monstrosities." Vol leaned forward, taking a goblet filled with water to his lips and gulping the contents down rather easily. Returning the empty goblet to the table, he spoke once more:


"In fact, I think you'll find much work in Beauclair. Monsters are a problem here like any other land. Yet, as I alluded to earlier, I believe that the Duchess herself will want to meet with you about a potential contract that I..." He hesitated, thinking for a moment, then nodded.


"I can briefly tell you the circumstances of." Shifting in his seat, he began:


"An ambassador of Nilfgaard was found in the guest quarters of the Palace with a dagger jutting out of his heart, said dagger a priceless heirloom passed down in the Henrietta family for generations. Although the Duchess and her court profusely denied any involvement, Emperor Emyhr was aggravated to say the least about the development and threatened to cede support from Toussaint. The next night, a Nilfgaardian patrol was slashed to pieces right outside the walls of Beauclair, a signet ring bearing the the imprint of the Heart of Toussaint among the carnage. Naturally, Emyhr's severe politicking will lead to a threat against Toussaint's government. After all, they knocked on our doors once with their battering rams one year ago. We have had tenuous relations with them ever since we warded them off. Now, with this latest attack by the Elf, I'm convinced that someone is conspiring to overthrow Toussaint from within and allow Nilfgaard to take control. The note I retrieved mentioned me specifically as a target of interest. Without me, the Duchess would have a large hole in her security force." His jaw clenched.


"If they think they can..." He relaxed, smiling apologetically.


"Right. My point is this: if indeed there is a plot against Anna and the royal family involving monsters of both human and non-human variety, we will need the help of an expert. Namely you." He reached for a cluster of grapes in the center of the table.


"Naturally your pay would be significantly larger than any contract you could pursue. Who knows? Perhaps the Duchess will grant you a plot of land to call your own."

 

[StoneWolf18]

Ekrah chewed another piece of the cured beef slowly, listening witn a thoughtful look upon her face before shallowing and chuckling thoughtfully at the mention of land. "Although not one of full blood, I am still expecting to act like a witcher. Meaning land has no use to me as I am always moving and have no desire to start a family. Despite not being barren I shouldn't have children for a multitude of reasons. The fortress is always open I I needed to return." She took a sip from her goblet before continuing. "But offer is rather generous yet there are a few things that give me pause. The first being that I am not a simple sell sword though I'm sure the white wolf made that clear about witchers. So anything political and dealing with men I am not to be apart of. The second..." The witcheress trailed off, trying to choose her words. "I'm usually not allowed past a city gate without being arrested. You can connect the dots."

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

"Ah, but you won't have to worry about being arrested on sight. You are with the Knight Captain of Her Majesty's so on and so forth. I will personally vouch for your strength of character and ensure that you are treated with the respect you deserve. As for the first point, you're right, this is very political and you are not a common mercenary that we can hire." He then pointed to the door, continuing:


"But I was ambushed by monsters that were being manipulated by a magic wielding Elf who specifically had it out for me. I'm fairly certain that there will be more monsters and dark creatures to contend with before this business is concluded. In fact, I hear of a foglet problem on the shores of an isle just across from palace which might be connected to this ordeal." He yawned widely.


"At least come with me to the palace and hear the Duchess out. What's the worst that can happen? You get payment for helping me out and then you can be on your way? I believe that's much better than some of the things that have happened to you already. The poor trying to cheat you out of every last copper, ungrateful mothers who hiss at the sight of you after handing their child back to them safe and unharmed...I've heard of what can occur to you Witchers in the field. I'm offering you a chance to make the best coin you'll get and become a bloody legend, probably surpassing even Geralt himself." The Knight Captain rose from the table.


"Let me know of your decision in the morning. For now, I'll retire in the guest room upstairs. Sleep well. You've most certainly earned it."


It was when the beams of lazy orange light lilted into the guest room that Vol stirred from his slumber, shaking his head and planting his feet firmly on the floor. He glanced outside, noting that these were just the first rays of sunlight rather than the full on glory of the morning. He had a propensity for sleeping in and couldn't afford to nurture the habit, especially during these hazardous times. After clothing himself minus the heavy chestplate and greaves, he descended into the main area to find Barnabas emerging into the home.


"Ah, good morning, Captain. Allow me to help you with your armor."


"Of course and a good morning to you as well. We're setting off today, Barnabas."


"Indeed, sir. A safe journey to you both." As Barnabas carried the armor out of the home, Vol noted that the door to Ekrah's room was slightly ajar. Odd...

 

[StoneWolf18]

The witcher only nodded as the knight stood and retired to his room, remaining there at the table rather deep in thought. Yes, she could just take the job for the potential pay and fame...there was no real reason to do so otherwise. Though if she was gaining a sort of safety from the law (because her even breathing was obviously breaking it) as well as access to a royal library as well as laboratory, she might be able to continue her research into the trials and the various items used. That and no longer have the risk of being arrested whilst doing so, and possibly even after this was all over and done with if the events were at the multitude that Vol said they were.


Speaking of which…


The woman stood and began to start down a chosen all, quickly finding what she was looking for. Entering the double doors, it was a massive library with shelves brimming with leather bound tomes. Walking towards them, she looked along the spines until finding quite a few that matched what she was searching for. Grabbing about 5 and piling them within her arms, it took a bit for Ekrah to make her way down the stairs and into the master bedroom.


The next few hours were spent with her seated at an old hickory desk, combing through the various volumes and scratching what she found to be quite useful in a journal nearby. She had known how to administer the trial of grasses, though there still wasn’t any way to improve her chance of survival. There were a few options, such as adding Swallow to keep her health from taking a turn for the worse, though that might prove to be fatal due to how she wasn't mutated to handle such concoctions. That and adding ingredients could prove to have...unexpected side effects and or permanent results.


There was also another thing that was giving her pause. The trial was known to work on Elven or Human subjects, but what of what with mixed blood? Would that alter the effect? Confuse the process into killing her? Gah, the amount of possibilities was endless.


Ekrah had ended up falling asleep upon the desk, waking to the sound of footsteps, voices, and windows that cast the light of dawn in. Lifting herself up off of an open page that was on some basic herbal formulas. Trying to stand, she had to grasp the table to catch herself as an unexpected pain flared in her side. Grimacing, the woman rolled up the side of her cloth tunic to see a rather ugly purple bruise along the right side of her rib cage. Pressing lightly on the wound, it send waves of discomfort thought out her side. The bloody overgrown insect had broken her ribs...the events of last night must’ve distracted her or the position she slept in made a simple fracture worse.


No matter, it was all but impossible to tell without a doctor or Mage. Recalling that she had heard voices, the witcher grit her teeth before taking a few steps towards the exit, an arm clutched to her right side. Managing to exit the room and take sight of Barnabas and Vol, she spoke. “Do you happen to have any medical supplies?” Her tone poorly concealing what she currently felt.

 

[AsgardianWitcher]

Vol strode to the Witcher, trying to examine the wound she was purposefully(he guessed) hiding. 


"When did this happen? Yesterday? Yes, it must've been last night unless you cavorted through the forest for some more monster hunting. Barnabas, medical supplies as quick as you can!" 


"Of course." Vol tried to suppress a smile, but failed.


"I don't think Barnabas has ever felt hurried or nervous in his entire life. Come, let's get you in a seat." He guided her to a seat nearby just as Barnabas emerged into the main hall, giving Vol a few vials filled with liquid, some bandages and medicinal tape. 


"Give me a few moments. You probably know this is going to hurt, but I feel like I have to say that anyway. Force of habit." 


After a few minutes of sterilizing, cleansing, and bandaging, her wound was completely dressed. 


"Your ribs are in bad shape. We will need to see our chief physician at Beauclair in order to see what else we can do." 


"If I may, Captain?"


"Certainly!" Barnabas set a vial of amber colored liquid in a thin vial. 


"This was left by Master Geralt on his last visit. He called it 'Swallow'. He told me many things about alchemy and the mixing of ingredients, but in the end, he saw my inadequacy and simply had me label potions in the cellar so that I could retrieve them in emergency situations. I do vividly recall Swallow helping him recover from numerous occasions." 


"Thank you again, Barnabas." He gave the vial to Ekrah, telling her:


"Drink, then we leave."


_______________


Their trek to Beauclair was a short one, yet one fraught with citizens within the city walls casting odd and quizzical glances at his companion. She was indeed a bit of a mystery in her appearance. Zerrikanian was the first thought, but her angular face, pointed ears and toned physique led to Elven blood. In any case, Vol arriving with her was sure to instigate gossip among the wives of nobility for several days on end. They would probably try to conspire an affair between he and the "exotic" woman, which would amuse him greatly. Her reaction would be priceless. 


Once the palace courtyard was in sight, he told Ekrah:


"I must report to the Duchess at once of what has occurred. Tell the stablehand who grabs your horse that you must see the physician. He will lead you there. If any fuss, tell them that I sent you. If they still give you fuss, slice their chests open and throw their hearts over the railing." He dismounted, a stable boy running from the entrance to the courtyard to grab his horse. 


"Make sure someone leads you to the throne room. I will meet you there." 

 

[StoneWolf18]

As her wound was bandaged, she had to lock her jaw and bite her tongue due to the pain that was sent through her in nauseating waves. Once it was finished, she nodded thankfully though paused once Swallow was placed before her. “I can't, it would be as toxic to me as it is to you.” Though she kept it with her incase it was necessary in the future.

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As they rode along, Ekrah was somewhat used to the looks and comments made just within earshot. Yeah being rather mixed when it came to heritage was bound to get some sort of attention, but her profession and gender made it all that much more noticeable. The woman listened to what he said and nodded before dismounting and leading her horse a bit closer towards the gate when an middle aged man came out to see her, he eyeing the witcher wearily. “An’ who do we ‘ave ‘ere?” He asked defensively, clearly skeptical of the one who stood before him. “Ekrah Feyrn, witcher. I am with-” He cut her off with a roll of his eyes. “Nice try lass but move along. I ain’t got the time for a fraud.” She continued as if he hadn’t interrupted her, the half elf’s tone rather crisp. “As I was saying, I am with Volgorl Massani, your Knight Captain. He said I have permission to enter and seek out your physician due t-” The man was growing impatient. “I don’t give a flying fuck why you're ‘ere. Move out before I call the guards.” He then turned away, muttering something about lying whores.


Yet, this wasn’t going to stop her.


She griped the reins tightly before leading her steed in through the gate, the man obviously surprised that the woman was still there. “Oh I’ll sh-” The stable master began, drawing a dagger. But as soon as it was in his hand, the witcheress was faster, unsheathing her steel blade and easily disarming the fool. Lowering her weapon Ekrah managed to say “Please. Just take my horse and I’ll-” But he had already screamed for the guards.


One can imagine what came next.


Three heavily plated men walked over, and once they saw the strange woman with a sword in hand, they responded with immediate force, yelling for her to drop the weapon and submit. Which she did due to not wanting to cause a scene, a sour look upon her face as two of them grabbed her arms and forcefully lead her away, putting a bit too much pressure on her broken ribs.



It wasn’t long before they had stripped her of everything (including her medallion) but her clothes before throwing her in a jail cell onto her wound. Ekrah grit her teeth before slowly managing to sit up and lean on a wall, checking the wound that was most likely much worse than before. Letting her tunic settling, the witcher silently scolded herself. They had access to all her belongings and what worried her was them going through her journal. She had a bunch of notes pertaining to the trials, witcher mutations, that wouldn’t help her case if Vol couldn’t get her out.