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thealfanator · 7 years

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The Steel that Warmed Us in the Night-Time ~ Chapter 3

The sword slashed, swinging at the drowners that merged from the water. The hooded figure that danced around them had been fighting for what had felt like hours. The evening air froze the barren ground near the damp sand. The air reeked with the smell of monster guts as the fighter swiped limbs off, one by one. There must’ve been about ten of them, circling him as if trying to blockade him. Their attempts failed swiftly, more heads flying around – blood spewing out, bodies still twitching. Though the silver was heavy, the hooded figure failed to grow tired. He elegantly retreated the weapon as multiple blue-stained corpses lie around him. He sighed. This was normal routine, he thought. Sometimes he wished enemies were more difficult. He left the area, silent as a panther. He encountered more, hollow beasts on the way back to the inn: ghouls and wraiths – nothing too harmful, he thought. People wondered how he could pull off the things he does as he’s only a small build. Thin, medium height. He continued. He saw the inn in sight, only a few hundred metres. He saw the windows as they flickered light out from the inside - the comforting, warm light which splattered throughout the rooms and walls. As much as he loved the outside, he felt eager to hurry his walk into the warmth. He swiftly ordered some ale and sat at a creaky, wooden table alone. He unveiled his hood. Jet black hair, beard and blue, enchanting eyes. He looked young, yet experienced with battle. He struggled to take off his leather armour as his bones and joints yelled when they moved. He took a leisurely sip from his cup. Some peasant sat down in front of him on the opposite side of the table he was sitting at, interrupting his peace.

“Hunter, I’ve told you – time and time again – you ain’t welcome here after what you did!! He roared almost silently, through clenched teeth. The bearded man continued to drink, seemingly ignoring the yelling man in front of him.

“Do you want the job done or not?” Hunter threatened back as he slowly stood up, ready to lie down in an unrented room off to the side. The peasant looked to the floor, intimidation consuming him.

“Aye. I guess so.” He squeaked and sighed, almost simultaneously. Hunter retrieved his things and locked the door behind him as he entered the small chamber. Then faded into rest…

Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri rode on horseback into the famine-infested land of Velen. The barren land stretched for miles, sunlight gleaming down upon it, showing the yellows and browns of the unsaturated Earth. The one amulet in their leather satchel bounced around unsatisfyingly on Yennefer’s back.

“The King says the third amulet is buried in a large, troll cave somewhere near here.” Yennefer instructed, exposing the others to her knowledge.

“We are two out of ten amulets down; I hope the pay is significant…” trailed Ciri, concern in her voice. They all mumbled with agreement whilst the horse hooves cluttered down the cobblestone pathway. They saw a small village in the distance; it seemed peaceful. They decided to make it their next stop. Unfortunately, Geralt was reminded of Hankala – the small, poor town of Frologhe. He tries to let his regrets go, about being unable to save the fire, but he classified it as impossible as it ate at his heart. As they got to the village, the wind howled in emptiness. They settled their horses and headed inside a rustic tavern which seemed not looked after; floorboards squelching at every opportunity. The three of them sat down at a table.

“Guess I’ll go ask around” sighed Yennefer. She swiftly got up, leaving her warm drink aside. She looked around. Tables and benches scattered around yet almost nobody occupied them; perhaps it was the time of day – people usually don’t drink in the morning. However, there were couples about - some alone at a bench, others having a mere peaceful chat together. Yennefer descended upon a muscly, well equipped bearded man sitting with some ale. He had strong chainmail armour which was constructed with bits of hard leather that held it together. The chestplate held a silver greatsword on its back. Minding his own business, he continued to sip the trails of contents from his cup. He grumbled as Yennefer sat down opposite him.

“What d’ye want” he pierced the conversation sharply.

“What do you know about a troll’s cave near this location?” Yennefer replied, determine yet kindness flowed within her voice. The man took seconds in thought, tinkering with the wooden mug in his fingers.

“Aye. I know the place” the soldier lifted his head, looking straight in the raven-haired sorceress’ eyes. “I can take you there.” He invited.

“Fantastic. I’m guessing that sword isn’t just for show” she smiled. He did too. The soldier greeted Yennefer; admitting his name was Leo. Geralt watched from a distance, anger in his heart. He hated to bring others into their own affairs – but would rather get the job done himself. After gauging their wooden plates and cups, the four of them headed out of the building towards their destination: the troll’s cave. On the way there, there was little conversation. Geralt and the others didn’t want to alert the poorer man of the amulet in fear he would try to take it for himself. They continued to walk off road into a dense forest, thick with foliage. Trees knocked their trail, leaves hung carelessly from the branches that roofed the area. Sounds of birds were frequent and glorious despite the contrast between them and Velen’s desolate landscape. Once they reached the area, they each glared with worry at the large abyss which ate the somewhat expansive chunk of the area around it.

“What d’ye expect to find in there?” Leo consulted.

“Something rare and difficult to find” Ciri kindly informed him, trying to avoid the penetrating growling in Geralt’s eyes. “Something that glows even in the darkness” she continued, lighting the man’s eyes lighter than the glints in the shards of the amulets themselves.

“Yes, well we’d better hurry up” Yennefer said in her usual regal tone. As soon as she finished her last syllable, a large force whacked her aside, knocking her unconscious. Geralt, Ciri and the soldier all drew their weapons in shock; unprepared to the force. A large troll took Yennefer’s last position, roaring with laughter and mockery. It was as big as a house, smeared with green mutations and fungi, almost completely coating the icky skin that covered it. Leo started stabbing the monster’s feet in a furious tone.

“No!” Geralt shouted, but it was too late. The troll smacked the man with incredible force, again knocking him out to lie with Yennefer’s vitality-lacking body. Ciri tried to combat the beast whilst Geralt cast signs and swung continuously at the monstrosity, but they were pinpricks against the larger force. They were too unprepared and had no choice to flee. Geralt and Cirilla sprinted through the forest to lose the creature through dense, foliage and wildlife. They had no decision but to head back to the calm, oblivious inn that sat a few hundred metres ahead of them. They panted ferociously, grabbing for as much oxygen as they could whilst also cursing at themselves for being unable to help the others who had fallen among it. They burst through the inn door, seeking significant help.

Yennefer woke in a dismal, dust-infested cave structure. It was as black as heavy smoke chucking out of a chimney late at night. She could hardly see as she spluttered and coughed through the low concentration of air. She slowly stood up, bones cracking from their lack of movement. Looking around her, vision was still useless but she managed to make out little light reflections made from the depth of different parts of the cave. Though the smell reeked like old fish in a cellar, she found no use standing around. She started to feel the roughly textured walls. She realised she had been in a small alcove somewhere where light was almost non-existent. She dreaded the effort needed to puzzle her way out of this mess. Despite her pounding head, she managed to conjure up a soft, blue light which emitted immeasurably from her fingertips, which ironically revealed more shadows than light. She turned to gag in consternation as she sees flies feel their way around the bloody head of Leo, the man who she was talking to what seemed like a few moments before. Insects fluttered in and out of his ajar mouth, excited over a small spot of blood they found. The head was disembodied, hanging from a dangling meat hook along with others which looked like they had been there for much longer. Hand covered over her mouth and nose, Yennefer continued to stare at the horror. That explains the smell, she thought. With her other hand, the bright light continued to light her way as she stumbled through the nothingness. Trying not to tumble over small rocks, Yennefer ducked and crawled through many passageways, squinting to find a spot of light peeking around any corners – above or below. She came to a large area when her produced light became no more. She went to relight her spell when she heard a frequent shuffling sound like lots of tiny moving feet. She paused in worry for a moment, however the sounds were low enough for her to still hear her own, staggering breath. She feared to relight her magic; hovering her hand – ready to cast. One… Two… Three… There was nothing there but an empty area. The walls grimy as the last hundred she had been seeing before she arrived. Something in the corner of the area sparkled more than anything else. A sparkle in which her light did not quite reach out to. She moved forward to quench her curiosity. Kneeling, her uniform became muddy in the thick sludge which laminated the floor. She leaned in closer. It was the third amulet! The shiny blue gem in the middle winked with content at Yennefer as she carefully picked it up. She took a moment to regain her surroundings and continued to progress through the maze which she was lost in, hand cupped over her body wound which oozed blood uncontrollably.

Geralt and Ciri sat in thought at the inn table. The Sun danced through the gap in the wooden wall that lie perfectly between them.

“There’s got to be an easier way.” Ciri broke the silence. As much as Geralt hated to put Ciri in danger, he actually agreed with what she had been saying.

“It’s fine. I can brew some potions, make some oils.” He said reluctantly. His only motivation was for Yennefer, the sorceress drowning in peril. His thoughts were interrupted by a man with a large beard and looked well armoured. He had a sword, bow and a quiver of arrows on his back. He stood at the end of the table and peered down on them.

“Name’s Hunter. Heard you were havin’ some trouble with a troll in the area. Same here, been attempting to get it for weeks. How ‘bout we take this thing on together?” His deep voice struck confidence in Geralt and Ciri. The sword on his back was not a joke, they thought. They agreed. Geralt ordered Ciri to stay at the inn despite her protest – in order to maintain her safety. After the matter was settled, Geralt and Hunter swiftly left the building again after equipping themselves for the fight.

They reached the cave. Dusk was looming. Birds had retreated and were silent. The troll commenced his heavy footsteps at the entrance to the cave whilst the two drew their weapons, ready for the attack. They were unexpectedly thrown off their focus when Yennefer emerged from the cave, tired, wounded and not perceptive to the situation. Geralt saw the tightly-gripped amulet in her grasp. They ran to her aid, slashing at the beast, drawing arrows, casting signs. The beast now struggled with the pain-inflicting wounds that opened across its body. It didn’t take long until the beast fell to the ground with a brutal force.

“Get out of the way!” Geralt shouted at Yennefer whose eyes were now losing energy, drifting from her wounds. The beast knocked her off her feet as it fell, making her loosen her grip from the fall. She watched in horror as the amulet she just dropped rolled down the cave abyss, clunking off the walls and falling down into the darkness of the cave she had just escaped from. Geralt also watched, paralysed in trauma to the event. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the amulet shot into the cave effortlessly. They left the troll corpse immediately to rush Yennefer back to the village.

This is the slightly longer Chapter 3. This chapter is in Velen and will take place over two chapters as it’s too long to fit into one; sorry! Apologies for only uploading once a week but I’m a very busy person - but nevertheless I’m still very happy that you’re enjoying it. Take care. :)

Link to Chapter 1: https://thealfanator.tumblr.com/post/161443706234/the-steel-that-warmed-us-in-the-night-time

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