Keira tells tales

Chapter 4

Jaskier was all excited over the knowledge that Geralt was special. Keira got a good chuckle over that, seeing the famous Witcher shift uncomfortably under Jaskier’s increased attention. The bard’s eyes were practically twinkling when he asked around the campfire, “So, what extra stuff was done?”

Geralt grumbled but said nothing, poking at the brace of coneys on a spit. Seeing a great opportunity to screw with her fellow Witcher, Keira replied, “Not sure with Geralt, but in my case, something to make me heal a bit faster, to increase my speed, help my eye sight, deepen my magic. Honestly, I have no idea all the things they did as the Trial really does a number on you. Some of them were contributed by some Witcher from the Griffin school who was heading back to their castle from Touissant, so no real clue.”

“Isn’t that odd,” asked Jaskier, clearly trying to make sense of it all.

“Everything about Witchers are odd. Young children, taken in, mutated by Alchemy and Magic, and trained beyond reason all so we can hunt the monsters that plague the Continent. Our biggest oddity is the fact that we survived the Grasses, because it is so damn lethal. After that we are trained far more than any other people in the Continent. No soldier or knight comes even close to the amount of training we undergo. From the age of five until I was eighteen, I trained in sword work, archery, other weapons, alchemy, magic, history, politics, monster biology and lore, language, survival, equestrian skills, and more, about eight to ten hours a day no matter the season. That was before the start to the final trials, where all skills are tested, and then a final monster hunt to graduate.”

Jaskier’s eyes were wide at that recitation. “Truth?”

Geralt nodded. “She’s not exaggerating. That’s life on the Path.”

“No wonder you are all so feared,” muttered Jaskier, mostly to himself.

“Some of it is earned, to be sure, but a good bit of that fear is simply our appearance. Pale skin, scars, strange eyes, weapons, armor, we are less comforting than enemy troops in most cases because we can be more lethal than them. We are valued for the skills we bring but otherwise no one wants us around.” Keira was not pleased by that but what could be done. All these things were simply part of life as she knew it. “It’s a lonely life, where more people hate you than are pleased to see you arrive.”

“Try not to spread all our secrets about Jaskier. Part of our survival is people not really knowing everything about us. And most of the secrets of our creation are gone, so we are a dying breed,” added Geralt, looking pointedly at the Bard. “If some people knew how close it is, they would hunt us.”

“I see.” Jaskier swallowed slightly heavily. “Very well, I’ll not touch on those. But come Keira, let me know of some of your hunts. Surely I can bring you fame through them. Those are the kind of songs and stories about Witchers that most audiences prefer.”

Keira thought about some of her hunts, trying to come up with one that might interest the bard. While there were a lot of them a lot of them had less than positive aspects. “What sort of story are you looking for?”

“Like some of Geralt’s adventures, where you stumble into some problematic situation, dispel a curse, rescue a trapped maiden, save the day, you know, things like that,” replied Jaskier blithely. “I would rather sing of the truth than simply make something up. The Audience can tell if there is truth at the heart of a song.””

“You mean something like Geralt’s Striga story?” She asked with a smile, eliciting a groan from the White Wolf. She smirked at Geralt who scowled a bit.

“Yes, exactly! Do you have something like that?” Jaskier sat forward on the bit of log he was using for a seat.

Keira thought and realized that she might have something that the bard might like. “Does defending a village from a dragon cover that?”

“What?!” Jaskier was all aflutter over the idea. “A Dragon! Please, tell me more.”

*****

Keira winced as she slid off her horse, the slight drop to the ground jarring her injuries. She was still a few days away from the Aerie and she ached terribly from the fight a few days ago. Of all the damn things to find in a mine supposedly haunted by knockers, a thrice bedamned Kikimora queen. She had not been prepared for that fight and was just happy she had gotten out of there alive. Nothing in the information anyone had given her had pointed to Kikimora at all, so she had the wrong sword oil and potions prepared. She hated mines, too enclosed for her bow to be of any use, which cut down on her usefulness. But maybe things would be okay if she managed to get some food and rest.

As she moved towards the tavern, thinking of ale and food, A voice called out to her, “Lady Witcher! Praise Melitele.”

Looking up she spotted the village headman rush towards her as she had clearly been spotted for what she was. He was panting when he neared her, so clearly this was an issue of some urgency. Fuck

Keira looked concerned at the red-faced man, “Yes Goodman?”

He huffed a few times, clearly not used to running, “Lady Witcher, I am so glad you are here. We desperately need your aid. We sent runners to the Aerie for assistance but have heard nothing. There is a dragon prowling about at one of our mines.”

Keira cocked her head, a dragon? Most of the dragons in the area had been hunted to extinction by the Griffons. And another fucking mine? It was almost enough to given a person a complex. For there to be a dragon here, when so many of their kind had been hunted down, there had to be something more going on. No, she needed to take her time with this one and get a clear idea of what was going on, “Very well Goodman.”

She took her bow, arrows, and saddle bags from her horse, shifting the sihil that she had sheathed across her back, the dwarven hiltless blade shifting comfortably. “Can someone stable and care for my horse? I’ll take a look at your issue and see if it’s something I can take care of. Do you have witnesses?”

“Aye, we do.”

“Bring them to me at the inn and I’ll see if I can get what I need before going out. You are aware that this is not a cheap hunt.” Keira would have gone after the dragon anyway, but being paid did help with weapon and armor maintenance, let alone keeping her fed and housed.

“Aye Lady. The whole village knows. We have raised funds to take care of this issue.” The earnest look on the village headman’s face was certainly a sight to see. Maybe living so close to the Aerie had put them in a better mood when dealing with Witchers? Usually people were not this nice to her.

With a nod, Keira headed towards the inn, first drinking one of her Swallow potions, to fix the aches she had been letting time heal. Too many potions could kill her and she tried to be in the habit of healing naturally when she had a chance. That, and they had a bad tendency to turn her eyes black and darken some of her veins. Regular people rarely appreciated the look.

She dearly hoped that this was not a true Dragon as Witchers avoided hunting them, as the were sentient creatures who were also dying out. They were also very strong and extremely dangerous. No, she hoped that someone was just overly worried about a Forktail or maybe a Wyvern, either of which weren’t too difficult if you were prepared. They were a kind of dragon so it wouldn’t be completely innacurate.
Conversation stopped as she entered the tavern, but given that was what usually happened, Keira only tangentially noticed. Since she had left the Aerie and started along the Path it had simply been a factor of her life. Not a pleasant one to be sure but hopefully none here would want to string her up for being… unnatural. There was an open table near the door that would hold her gear as needed and she could do her preparations there.

A younger woman, who looked familiar, came over, wiping her hands with a small towel. “What can I get you Lady?”

“Ale and something to eat.” Once she had placed her order, she raised the volume of her voice to be heard throughout the building. “The headman has asked me to hunt your Dragon. If you have seen it, please come tell me about it.”

That brought back the noise, though less lively than before. Thankfully the pennywhistle that had been making a tune was stopped. The instrument hurt her sensitive hearing. Reaching into her quiver she started pulling her arrows free, working on getting her weapons prepared. Someone dressed as a miner came over, hat in hand, looking all nervous. She quirked an eyebrow at his approach but spent the time looking over her arrows, making sure they were all battle ready, especially the Samum and Grapeshot, as stunning and fragmentation usually worked on most creatures, with Grapeshot being rather effective on most draconic creatures.

The miner shifted uncomfortably, before saying, “Begging your pardon m’lady, but I’ve seen your dragon.”

Raising an eyebrow, Keira turned her full focus onto him, her amber colored eyes took in everything. He stammered a bit as he continued, “It…it ca…came to our mine and chased us out. Three of us were killed when that happened and I fear the beast ate them.”

That sounded bad. But this was at least the start, “So, you got a good look at it?”

“It was at dusk, but we’d been down in the mine so our vision was fine. The beast had wings, legs, and it roared at us when it swooped down, snatching up poor Tomas first. Fire consumed Ivan, who was carrying the lamp. A sweep of the tail took down Jochim as the rest of us fled, our ears ringing from the roar.”

“Did you see how many legs it had, specifically?”

“No lady, maybe four, maybe two, I’m not sure.”

“What color was it?” Keira kept things pointed, hoping to wrest more information out of the man.

“Dark colored I think.”

So far this was not overly helpful. She needed more to get an accurate assessment of this dragon. “Anything else you can think of?”

“Nay lady, it was vicious, coming out of nowhere. That happened five days ago.”

Keira nodded. ‘Thank you.”

Her food, a thick stew with a hunk of bread topped with butter, came along with her ale. A few coins covered the cost of the meal and while she ate, she pondered. The description the miner had given wasn’t too helpful, but it didn’t sound like a true dragon. And of the options she had considered, it sounded more like a Forktail than anything else, as they were extremely aggressive. If the one carrying the lamp caught fire it could just as easily have been the lamp that caught him aflame and not some breath weapon. And powerful tail sweeps were a common Forktail tactic and other draconic beasts. She hoped that there would be a few more witnesses who might give her more detail, but she had a starting point. So long as it wasn’t an actual true Dragon, she should be okay.

A few other people came up while she ate and checked her gear, but their details were about the same level of helpful. She did have several people mention the two legs specifically, which eliminated true dragons. Roar, tail swipe, guy burst into flames, but no one saw the creature itself breathe flame. Keira was in basically the same spot she had been earlier. When the waitress came back Keira realized what was familiar with the girl, she looked a little like her mother more than anything else. If she was near sixteen or older… had she really been gone that long? Keira hesitantly asked, “Excuse me, is your father the Tanner?”

“Aye, that’s me Da.” She looked very surprised. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve been to this village before,” stated Keira flatly.

The girl looked really interested now and perked up. “Do you know my older brother, Kade? He went up to the Aerie before I was born and should be in your school.”

Keira steeled herself, realizing that the truth would not be a good thing in this particular case. It was possible that the revelation of the Trial of Clay could cause their nominal friendly neighbors to rise up and assault them like had happened before. History lessons had covered the various assaults on Witchers and the few times pogroms were attempted. No, though it hurt her heart she would have to lie to her little sister. There was no way she could understand. “Kade? Yeah, he made it through the Trials and is down south. Last I heard he was heading towards Toussaint after a meddlesome pack of werewolves.”

“Really? He’s doing good? I can’t wait to tell my Da.” She replied excitedly, eyes growing wide.

“Tell your Da what Gretchen?” The voice came from the door. Both Keira her sister turned to look at the figure standing in the doorway. Keira swallowed hard, someone that she hadn’t seen in well over a decade, her father.

“She knows Kade.” Gretchen pointed towards her, a smile on her face.

“Aye, do you now?” Her father headed over to the table, sitting across from her. “We’ve not seen him in ages. But my boy is still doing good?”

“Like I told your daughter, he’s probably in Toussaint right now. His training took him down south and he stayed there.” Keira lied smoothly, feeling her heart twist at being unable to say anything else.

“So, my boy has done well has he?” Her father looked very interested, Gretchen still hanging on every word.

“Surviving on the Path is always impressive. A Witcher’s life is hard. From what I’ve heard he has saved a fair number of villages and towns from monsters, like Drowners, nekkers, to even Bruxa.” This hurt far more than she had been expecting, which given that she had never even thought about this reunion happening in over a decade was saying a lot.

Her father puffed up with pride. “That’s good. I wanted my boy to have a better life than being stuck here in our town without enough work to keep him fed. Thank your school from me. It means a lot to know he’s doing well.”

Keira didn’t trust her voice at the moment, so simply nodded, taking another pull of her ale. She went back to inspecting her gear, wanting more than anything to get out of here and away from this. Her father stood and said, “Well, let’s not be a bother. Thank you, Lady, for going after the Dragon.”

Another nod, eyes concentrating on her arrows for fear of tears spilling. How un-Witcher like would that be? People thought them cold, heartless, stripped of emotion but the truth was far different. Her sister went off to serve another table a round of ale, and her father joined some of his mates at another table. Keira shook her head slightly to get what if thoughts out of her head. This was her life and telling the truth would be the worst thing she could do to them. She had the weapon oil she needed, arrows, her blade, she just needed to get out of here and go kill this ‘Dragon’ or whatever it actually was. The pain from staying would be too much. She needed to hurt something.