Little Red Dragons
Hobgoblins and Kittens
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TOSS A COIN
At the edge of the world fight the mighty horde that bashes and breaks you
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Fandom Toss a Coin to Your Witcher [Honey&Red]
- Thread starter Little Red Dragons
- Start date
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- Tags
- action adventure novella style
Marigold Honey
Unlucky Member
The Autumn had brought with it a frigid stillness over the town of Haran, the trees had seemingly lost all their life over night. The streets had become empty, with most of the small population squeezing into the one tavern Haran was home to, desperately seeking warmth with alcohol and drunken company. With the frigid weather a beast had come with it, a creature that no one had seen. Who snatched children in the night right from their beds.
That was what brought Farren and Beolyss to the hillside of Haran. Word of a monster never took long to reach the ears of a Witcher after all…
“And that my dear Witcher is why I will never touch bagpipes” Farren exclaimed in a rather exaggerated tone as he walked by his friend’s side, strumming mindlessly at the lute he held, his words gibberish that had come from complete boredom and inability to shut one’s own mouth. The heavily freckled ginger man had been by the Witcher’s side for a great deal of moons now, the two exchanging rather one-sided conversations for the most part.
The air was fresh, the dirt road damp with the recent rains that had come to Haran. It had caused Farren’s brown leather boots to become caked in the thick mud. Each step forming yet another layer of muck on the soles of his shoes. It did not bother Farren however, after all these last months had brought him much worse then muddy shoes. One does not travel with a Witcher and not come close to death once or twice-- or perhaps more.
“I have a good feeling about this place” he stated rather cheerfully as he stared down the steep mountain at the seemingly sleeping town they had nearly reached. He strummed his lute “They, like the towns before them will sing you praise, Beolyss!” he stopped to smile at his friend before skipping to catch up. Strumming his lute once again, he began to sing gayly “Toss a coin to your Witcher~ Oh valley of plenty, Oh valley of plenty~”.
Down beneath in the seemingly sleepy town, where the sunset had brought a terrifying darkness over the town once again. Within the tavern, Rhealeigh or Rhea as she was more commonly known sat upon a stool with a lute in her hands strumming to an audience that filled the tavern to the brim. The colder seasons always meant more customers.
“For she was his secret treasure~ She was his shame and bliss~ And a chain and a keep are nothing compared to a woman's kiss~ For hands of gold are always cold, But a woman's hands are warm~ For hands of gold are always cold. But a woman's hands are warm~~”
This was the life Rhealeigh lived, no matter the season. She would sing, entertain and serve the masses. Her five brothers had all moved out, starting families leaving her. Unable to even dream of finding such a future for herself. For Rhealeigh she had accepted her fate, she would be an old hag serving ale for the rest of her days if her father had any say in it.
There was no argument. After all, what man would whisk Rhealeigh away from this life? And show her the adventure she craved before settling down.
The music from the tavern echoed up from the tavern, up the hill to Farren and Beolyss who slowly made their way down into the town. “I told you I liked this place, any place with music is the place for me” Farren commented rather cockily as he eyed the tavern that’s windows gave off golden hues.
That was what brought Farren and Beolyss to the hillside of Haran. Word of a monster never took long to reach the ears of a Witcher after all…
“And that my dear Witcher is why I will never touch bagpipes” Farren exclaimed in a rather exaggerated tone as he walked by his friend’s side, strumming mindlessly at the lute he held, his words gibberish that had come from complete boredom and inability to shut one’s own mouth. The heavily freckled ginger man had been by the Witcher’s side for a great deal of moons now, the two exchanging rather one-sided conversations for the most part.
The air was fresh, the dirt road damp with the recent rains that had come to Haran. It had caused Farren’s brown leather boots to become caked in the thick mud. Each step forming yet another layer of muck on the soles of his shoes. It did not bother Farren however, after all these last months had brought him much worse then muddy shoes. One does not travel with a Witcher and not come close to death once or twice-- or perhaps more.
“I have a good feeling about this place” he stated rather cheerfully as he stared down the steep mountain at the seemingly sleeping town they had nearly reached. He strummed his lute “They, like the towns before them will sing you praise, Beolyss!” he stopped to smile at his friend before skipping to catch up. Strumming his lute once again, he began to sing gayly “Toss a coin to your Witcher~ Oh valley of plenty, Oh valley of plenty~”.
Down beneath in the seemingly sleepy town, where the sunset had brought a terrifying darkness over the town once again. Within the tavern, Rhealeigh or Rhea as she was more commonly known sat upon a stool with a lute in her hands strumming to an audience that filled the tavern to the brim. The colder seasons always meant more customers.
“For she was his secret treasure~ She was his shame and bliss~ And a chain and a keep are nothing compared to a woman's kiss~ For hands of gold are always cold, But a woman's hands are warm~ For hands of gold are always cold. But a woman's hands are warm~~”
This was the life Rhealeigh lived, no matter the season. She would sing, entertain and serve the masses. Her five brothers had all moved out, starting families leaving her. Unable to even dream of finding such a future for herself. For Rhealeigh she had accepted her fate, she would be an old hag serving ale for the rest of her days if her father had any say in it.
There was no argument. After all, what man would whisk Rhealeigh away from this life? And show her the adventure she craved before settling down.
The music from the tavern echoed up from the tavern, up the hill to Farren and Beolyss who slowly made their way down into the town. “I told you I liked this place, any place with music is the place for me” Farren commented rather cockily as he eyed the tavern that’s windows gave off golden hues.
Little Red Dragons
Hobgoblins and Kittens
Beolyss & Nadia
"the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes"
~T.E. Lawrence
~T.E. Lawrence
Her hands gently cradled the scarred and blistered palms of the traveler, he was coated in a thin layer of grime and he reeked of the bogs surrounding Haran. The perils of a fortune teller, as it was. Lightly she traced the lines of his hands and murmured into his ear, “I foresee mortal danger in your future… This beast that plagues our town. Soon it shall come for you and yours…” He shivered, and his eyes glanced toward the door with obvious fear. The horrid beast of the bog had been rather good for her business, though the disappearing children really was a tragedy. She let go of his palm and slid her hand into the folds of her skirts to pull out a glass vial. Inside the corked bottle was a liquid of shimmering orange. Dangling the vial in front of the man’s face, Nadia cooed to him, “A sip of this will change your fate. A simple potion, sir. It shall protect you from bodily harm for an entire week. ”
He reached up, entranced by the brilliant colors and her smooth words. Smirking, Nadia set it in his palm and folded his dirty fingers around the vial. “It is yours, for a price…” She whispered the cost in his ear, and after a moment of hesitation the man handed over several coins. Nadia patted his cheek affectionately, then slipped away to the bar.
Slapping the counter, she drew the barman’s attention. He slid a cup of ale to her, knowing her usual order by now. The gypsies had been in town for several days now. Longer than they had intended. But when little Joseph had disappeared in the night… Nadia glanced over to his grieving mother, hunched over a table as she cried into her beer. They would be staying until the Witcher arrived to put this bog monster to bed. Alive or dead, everyone wanted to know the fates of the missing children. Nadia left one of her coins on the counter and pocketed the others as she walked toward the crowded tables. Nadia looked at the barmaid who was perched on a stool and crooning to the crowd. Nadia gave her a warm smile and watched her for a few minutes, then continued toward the windows.
As she sat down, Nadia glanced out to examine the night. In the gloom and shadows Nadia could pick out the silhouettes of two travelers in the distance. One on horseback, and the other on foot. Squinting, she tried to make out their faces, but they were still too far away. She kept her gaze trained on them as they drew nearer, and she sipped at her ale with a sigh. It was a bit late for travelers to be coming to town, most would have camped on the other side of the bog. The bog monster was known far and wide, and the rumor it could swallow children and adults alike had become the favored story. It was far too dangerous to pass through those lands in the dark unless one was proficient against… It dawned on her. The only person who would come into their town in the middle of the night was a Witcher. Someone who was not afraid of monsters, someone who had come to defeat them.
And was indeed the Witcher. He sat atop his horse as the bard walked beside him. Perhaps it would have been polite of him to allow Farren to ride with him, but Beolyss wasn’t known for being polite. Beolyss looked down at his companion as he finished a rather long narration about bagpipes and the upkeep they required. Raising an eyebrow, Beolyss said, “Are you sure that is the reason? And not your overwhelming lack of talent as a musician? ” He smirked, the closest he usually got to a laugh. The bard looked up at him, knowing Beolyss didn’t mean the insult. Farren seemed to ignore the comment and continued on with his cheerful commentary. A good feeling, eh? Beolyss rolled his eyes and shook his head. Farren always had a good feeling about towns, even when they were the dreariest, scariest, and most unkempt places.
This town was not so bad though. It was small, yes, and a bit rundown… But it did not stink as some did, and there wasn’t stray dogs or sewage in the road. So it was alright in Beolyss’ opinion. Motioning to the lit windows of the tavern, the source of music that Farren was so excited about, Beolyss said, “That is what music should sound like, Farren. Take a lesson from her before we leave. ” Before the bard could respond to jab, the door of the tavern opened and a dark figure stood in the door. Faintly he could hear the excited call of, ’He’s here! The Witcher has arrived!’
A warmer welcome than usual, that was for sure. Beolyss narrowed his eyes and nudged his horse onward. Witchers were only eagerly met when the danger was great. As the distance between them and the tavern closed, Beolyss shuddered as Farren kept up his song. A man came out of the tavern to meet them, and Beolyss slid off his horse when they came to a stop. The man took the reins from him and pointed to the open door. ‘We’ve been expecting you, Witcher.’ Beolyss scoffed and nodded, “That’s fairly obvious… Well, take care of my horse. I’ll be inside. ”
With Farren by his side, Beolyss entered the tavern. His black studded leather a sharp contrast to the townsfolk simpler clothes. They were all bundled up against the cold, but the tavern itself was warm. The glowing fireplace made sure of that. It was the fear that plagued the town that caused the chill, and Beolyss recognized the desperate look in their eyes. Nodding, he went to the bar and leaned against it. In a projecting voice he asked, “Who do I have to speak to around here to get a drink? ” He glanced around, and when the barmaid who had been serenading the crowd put down her lute and approached, he flashed her a smile. A quick response. He liked that. Tilting his head to her, Beolyss said, “Two beers, and any information you have on this child eating monster. ”
A voice from behind the barmaid caught him by surprise, and Beolyss leaned to the side to see a gypsy woman with an ale in her hand. She greeted him again, and she said, “I was beginning to think you’d never arrive. ” Nadia moved to complete the circle, standing between Rhea and Farren. She smiled to the barmaid, and said gently, “I am Nadia. Forgive me for interrupting. We too have lost children to your monster, I only wish to help. ”
Beolyss glanced to Farren, who was now faced with two beautiful women after having no company for weeks on the road. It was sure to be a long night. He motioned to the bard and himself as he said, “This is Farren, and I am Beolyss…” Pausing, he looked to Rhea and took a moment to measure her up. “Tell me what you know about this monster.” Two beers were placed on the bar by the man behind the counter, and Beolyss accepted his silently, never taking his eyes off Rhea.
He reached up, entranced by the brilliant colors and her smooth words. Smirking, Nadia set it in his palm and folded his dirty fingers around the vial. “It is yours, for a price…” She whispered the cost in his ear, and after a moment of hesitation the man handed over several coins. Nadia patted his cheek affectionately, then slipped away to the bar.
Slapping the counter, she drew the barman’s attention. He slid a cup of ale to her, knowing her usual order by now. The gypsies had been in town for several days now. Longer than they had intended. But when little Joseph had disappeared in the night… Nadia glanced over to his grieving mother, hunched over a table as she cried into her beer. They would be staying until the Witcher arrived to put this bog monster to bed. Alive or dead, everyone wanted to know the fates of the missing children. Nadia left one of her coins on the counter and pocketed the others as she walked toward the crowded tables. Nadia looked at the barmaid who was perched on a stool and crooning to the crowd. Nadia gave her a warm smile and watched her for a few minutes, then continued toward the windows.
As she sat down, Nadia glanced out to examine the night. In the gloom and shadows Nadia could pick out the silhouettes of two travelers in the distance. One on horseback, and the other on foot. Squinting, she tried to make out their faces, but they were still too far away. She kept her gaze trained on them as they drew nearer, and she sipped at her ale with a sigh. It was a bit late for travelers to be coming to town, most would have camped on the other side of the bog. The bog monster was known far and wide, and the rumor it could swallow children and adults alike had become the favored story. It was far too dangerous to pass through those lands in the dark unless one was proficient against… It dawned on her. The only person who would come into their town in the middle of the night was a Witcher. Someone who was not afraid of monsters, someone who had come to defeat them.
And was indeed the Witcher. He sat atop his horse as the bard walked beside him. Perhaps it would have been polite of him to allow Farren to ride with him, but Beolyss wasn’t known for being polite. Beolyss looked down at his companion as he finished a rather long narration about bagpipes and the upkeep they required. Raising an eyebrow, Beolyss said, “Are you sure that is the reason? And not your overwhelming lack of talent as a musician? ” He smirked, the closest he usually got to a laugh. The bard looked up at him, knowing Beolyss didn’t mean the insult. Farren seemed to ignore the comment and continued on with his cheerful commentary. A good feeling, eh? Beolyss rolled his eyes and shook his head. Farren always had a good feeling about towns, even when they were the dreariest, scariest, and most unkempt places.
This town was not so bad though. It was small, yes, and a bit rundown… But it did not stink as some did, and there wasn’t stray dogs or sewage in the road. So it was alright in Beolyss’ opinion. Motioning to the lit windows of the tavern, the source of music that Farren was so excited about, Beolyss said, “That is what music should sound like, Farren. Take a lesson from her before we leave. ” Before the bard could respond to jab, the door of the tavern opened and a dark figure stood in the door. Faintly he could hear the excited call of, ’He’s here! The Witcher has arrived!’
A warmer welcome than usual, that was for sure. Beolyss narrowed his eyes and nudged his horse onward. Witchers were only eagerly met when the danger was great. As the distance between them and the tavern closed, Beolyss shuddered as Farren kept up his song. A man came out of the tavern to meet them, and Beolyss slid off his horse when they came to a stop. The man took the reins from him and pointed to the open door. ‘We’ve been expecting you, Witcher.’ Beolyss scoffed and nodded, “That’s fairly obvious… Well, take care of my horse. I’ll be inside. ”
With Farren by his side, Beolyss entered the tavern. His black studded leather a sharp contrast to the townsfolk simpler clothes. They were all bundled up against the cold, but the tavern itself was warm. The glowing fireplace made sure of that. It was the fear that plagued the town that caused the chill, and Beolyss recognized the desperate look in their eyes. Nodding, he went to the bar and leaned against it. In a projecting voice he asked, “Who do I have to speak to around here to get a drink? ” He glanced around, and when the barmaid who had been serenading the crowd put down her lute and approached, he flashed her a smile. A quick response. He liked that. Tilting his head to her, Beolyss said, “Two beers, and any information you have on this child eating monster. ”
A voice from behind the barmaid caught him by surprise, and Beolyss leaned to the side to see a gypsy woman with an ale in her hand. She greeted him again, and she said, “I was beginning to think you’d never arrive. ” Nadia moved to complete the circle, standing between Rhea and Farren. She smiled to the barmaid, and said gently, “I am Nadia. Forgive me for interrupting. We too have lost children to your monster, I only wish to help. ”
Beolyss glanced to Farren, who was now faced with two beautiful women after having no company for weeks on the road. It was sure to be a long night. He motioned to the bard and himself as he said, “This is Farren, and I am Beolyss…” Pausing, he looked to Rhea and took a moment to measure her up. “Tell me what you know about this monster.” Two beers were placed on the bar by the man behind the counter, and Beolyss accepted his silently, never taking his eyes off Rhea.
Marigold Honey
Unlucky Member
The announcement of the Witcher’s arrival caught Rhealeigh off-guard, and suddenly her performance was shadowed by the yelling and cheering of the people within the tavern, all fighting to catch a glance of the Witcher. Her song trailed off into silence, as she began to realize not one person was currently listening to her performance. Her blue eyes that reflected the ocean looked to the stairs of the tavern where her mother stood watching the chaos from. The two met eyes, both hopeful that perhaps the Witcher would save the town-- but disappointed of the chaos his arrival had caused. Her mother offered a sympathetic smile that made Rhealeigh’s confidence return, if only for a moment of time.
Farren followed Beolyss, a smile broad across his face, smiling ear to ear. “Yes yes! The Witcher, he has come to slay your evil monster!” Farren spoke rather dramatically, as if he was telling the people the opening to a story. However his voice was ignored by the townsfolk, as he was seemingly invisible beside someone like the Witcher. It was something Farren had grown used to, however it did not make him shy away from the dramatics. He followed close behind Beolyss as they took their seat within the tavern, his eyes darting in every direction they could.
“Who do I have to speak to around here to get a drink?”
Rhea froze at the words that came from the Witcher she watched with much intrigue, however she did not approach as she felt rather frozen in his presence. That was until she met the eyes of her father, his eyes screaming at her to serve their guest. Her mind finally gained control once again, causing her to put her lute down and rush over to the table. Glancing back at her father as she reached the table. Nervous. She had heard stories of the Witcher, how such a beast came to be. He stood out amongst the people who did their best to pretend they were drinking, but eyed the Witcher from behind their ale.
“Two beers, and any information you have on this child eating monster. ”
Rhea opened her mouth to speak but before she could speak she was interrupted. She questioned whether she would have spoken if not interrupted, after all her throat felt as if it was swallowing itself. It was as if she had forgotten she had swallowed a rock. Her throat was dry. Rhea looked to the woman a few years older than herself
“I am Nadia. Forgive me for interrupting. We too have lost children to your monster, I only wish to help.”
Farren was rather beside himself, his cheeks thick with a rosey hue. Oh girls never had such an effect until he went weeks without them… “This is Farren, and I am Beolyss…”. Farren perked up extending his hand to Nadia and Rhea flashing a smile that exuded confidence
“Farren Banks! Pleasure to meet you ladies”. But he was seemingly ignored as Beolyss spoke again “Tell me what you know about this monster.”.
Rhea’s eyes widened as she opened her mouth to speak, looking to Nadia like a deer who had spotted their hunted a moment too short. Terrified, that was what the Witcher made her. Or was it her father’s rule never to make conversation with men… She looked back to her father who was now looking at her disapprovingly from behind the counter. Rhea straightened, finding an ability to speak somewhere in the silence.
“No ones ever seen the beast, he’s like a ghost- we only ever hear him. Every night children go missing. There's a terrible noise, like a howl or a scream-- I’m not sure how to explain it, we tried to have guards to kill the beast if it entered and--- they weren’t there when morning came… We’ve sent search parties to find the beast…---” Rhea stopped as if it was obvious what happened. She peered down as she lost confidence before looking at Nadia giving a small smile of condolence before turning back to the Witcher and the bard “We’ve lost a lot of people Beolyss, a lot of kind hearted kids with decades ahead of them. Men, who are brothers, fathers and sons… I fear- I think we all fear that this monster will wipe us out completely if given the chance”.
Farren cocked an eyebrow at the girl’s words, it put terror even into him. What would happen if this was the one beast the Witcher lost to? Farren smirked at his thoughts, there was no way-- This was Beolyss Ovrengard afterall…
“Don’t worry yourselves! Beolyss is indestructible, monsters bow in his presence for god's sake!” Farren exclaimed as he gave Beolyss a rather hard elbow to the ribs. “Trust me when he’s done with your monster, your town will sing the praises of Beolyss Ovrengard!” Farren exclaimed as he got to his feet strumming his lute before promptly being pulled back down to his seat. He glared at Beolyss, crossing his arms and looking at the girls. His attention lingering on Nadia, a woman that screamed Beolyss’s type.
Farren followed Beolyss, a smile broad across his face, smiling ear to ear. “Yes yes! The Witcher, he has come to slay your evil monster!” Farren spoke rather dramatically, as if he was telling the people the opening to a story. However his voice was ignored by the townsfolk, as he was seemingly invisible beside someone like the Witcher. It was something Farren had grown used to, however it did not make him shy away from the dramatics. He followed close behind Beolyss as they took their seat within the tavern, his eyes darting in every direction they could.
“Who do I have to speak to around here to get a drink?”
Rhea froze at the words that came from the Witcher she watched with much intrigue, however she did not approach as she felt rather frozen in his presence. That was until she met the eyes of her father, his eyes screaming at her to serve their guest. Her mind finally gained control once again, causing her to put her lute down and rush over to the table. Glancing back at her father as she reached the table. Nervous. She had heard stories of the Witcher, how such a beast came to be. He stood out amongst the people who did their best to pretend they were drinking, but eyed the Witcher from behind their ale.
“Two beers, and any information you have on this child eating monster. ”
Rhea opened her mouth to speak but before she could speak she was interrupted. She questioned whether she would have spoken if not interrupted, after all her throat felt as if it was swallowing itself. It was as if she had forgotten she had swallowed a rock. Her throat was dry. Rhea looked to the woman a few years older than herself
“I am Nadia. Forgive me for interrupting. We too have lost children to your monster, I only wish to help.”
Farren was rather beside himself, his cheeks thick with a rosey hue. Oh girls never had such an effect until he went weeks without them… “This is Farren, and I am Beolyss…”. Farren perked up extending his hand to Nadia and Rhea flashing a smile that exuded confidence
“Farren Banks! Pleasure to meet you ladies”. But he was seemingly ignored as Beolyss spoke again “Tell me what you know about this monster.”.
Rhea’s eyes widened as she opened her mouth to speak, looking to Nadia like a deer who had spotted their hunted a moment too short. Terrified, that was what the Witcher made her. Or was it her father’s rule never to make conversation with men… She looked back to her father who was now looking at her disapprovingly from behind the counter. Rhea straightened, finding an ability to speak somewhere in the silence.
“No ones ever seen the beast, he’s like a ghost- we only ever hear him. Every night children go missing. There's a terrible noise, like a howl or a scream-- I’m not sure how to explain it, we tried to have guards to kill the beast if it entered and--- they weren’t there when morning came… We’ve sent search parties to find the beast…---” Rhea stopped as if it was obvious what happened. She peered down as she lost confidence before looking at Nadia giving a small smile of condolence before turning back to the Witcher and the bard “We’ve lost a lot of people Beolyss, a lot of kind hearted kids with decades ahead of them. Men, who are brothers, fathers and sons… I fear- I think we all fear that this monster will wipe us out completely if given the chance”.
Farren cocked an eyebrow at the girl’s words, it put terror even into him. What would happen if this was the one beast the Witcher lost to? Farren smirked at his thoughts, there was no way-- This was Beolyss Ovrengard afterall…
“Don’t worry yourselves! Beolyss is indestructible, monsters bow in his presence for god's sake!” Farren exclaimed as he gave Beolyss a rather hard elbow to the ribs. “Trust me when he’s done with your monster, your town will sing the praises of Beolyss Ovrengard!” Farren exclaimed as he got to his feet strumming his lute before promptly being pulled back down to his seat. He glared at Beolyss, crossing his arms and looking at the girls. His attention lingering on Nadia, a woman that screamed Beolyss’s type.
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