Over the next day, I spent my time acting as a guard for the Raven Caravan, and in between those duties, I was learning the basics of magic from Calla. The rhythm of caravan life was surprisingly pleasant, wake before dawn, help break camp, walk or ride alongside the wagons, scout ahead for potential threats, and then settle in for evening lessons once we made camp again.
The first day on the road was quiet in terms of danger, but far from peaceful in terms of attention. The sorceresses, all around my age, which felt refreshing, would look at me and ask all sorts of questions. These girls were teenage sorceresses in training, but they acted just like teenage girls. They weren't any different from the modern-day girls in my era, just with magic and medieval clothing.
We were walking alongside one of the wagons, the afternoon sun warm on my face, when one of them finally worked up the courage to approach me directly.
"Witcher," she called out, her voice carrying that mixture of curiosity and nervousness that came with talking to someone you found intimidating. "Why is your skin so dark?"
I glanced at her, noting the genuine curiosity rather than malice in her expression. She had brown long hair and green eyes that studied me with interest.
"Because of my parents," I replied simply. "One or both of them had it. I wouldn't know which because I don't know who they are."
Another girl, this one with blonde hair and freckles, leaned forward from her position in the wagon. "And your eyes, were they always so gold, or did you gain those from the Witcher school?"
I smirked slightly. "I was born with those too."
"What about your hair?" a third asked, her voice carrying genuine fascination. "That snow-white color, is that natural?"
"Born with it," I confirmed. "Come on, ladies, ask me something that isn't so obvious."
There was a moment of silence, and then one of the girls, I hadn't caught her name yet, smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Are Witchers good in bed?"
I nearly stumbled, my enhanced reflexes the only thing keeping me from actually tripping in the dirt over my own feet. Behind me, I heard Callum burst into laughter, the sound carrying across the caravan.
The girl continued, emboldened by her companions' giggles. "Instructor Neary was out for the whole day before we saw her after that night with you. And from what I heard from the inn's patrons, she was very loud."
The other girls started to smile and chuckle, their faces flushing with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. I could feel my own face heating slightly, though whether from embarrassment or annoyance, I wasn't entirely sure.
Callum, riding his horse nearby, just laughed harder. "Oh, this is rich. Cain, you're famous now!"
Further up in the wagon, Calla sat reading a book, but I saw her shake her head without looking up, a gesture of long-suffering patience with her students' antics.
I sighed, deciding to take control of the conversation before it spiraled further. "What's your name, sorceress?"
The girl who'd asked the question took off her hood, revealing short-cut raven hair in a pixie cut and hazel eyes that sparkled with confidence. Her skin was fair, almost porcelain, and her smile was bold and unapologetic.
"Name's Elanor of Arinbjorn," she said, her voice carrying a slight accent I recognized.
I raised my eyebrows. "Arinbjorn, that's a fishing village located on the western coast of the main island of Ard Skellig."
She nodded, clearly pleased I knew her home. "Aye, it is. Not many people from the mainland know the smaller settlements."
I looked closer at her, my enhanced Witcher senses picking up details that would be invisible to the average eye. Her cheekbones looked altered, the bone structure just slightly too perfect to be entirely natural. Her skin had micro-scarring, the kind that came from heavy acne that had been magically treated. Her breasts had slight scarring too, like they'd been altered or enlarged slightly, just enough to look natural but clearly the work of magical enhancement.
None of this was noticeable to the average eye, but I could see it because of my heightened Witcher senses. It wasn't judgment, sorceresses altered themselves all the time, seeking perfection through magic. It was just interesting to see the evidence of it so clearly.
I smiled, keeping my observations to myself. "Well, Elanor, if you want to know and experience it for yourself, talk to me when I'm not working."
She made an exaggerated sound of disappointment. "Boo! And I thought you would be more fun, but you're so reserved and cold. Or is that because of the mutations, or because you were like that before?"
"The mutations," I said honestly. "Mind you, I do have feelings, but the pain and mutations muted some of those feelings. But I feel like any of you do, I just remain more clear-headed."
Elanor studied me for a moment, her hazel eyes searching my face. "What about your handsome friend, there Witcher? He seems as cheery as a man who just discovered sex and alcohol for the first time."
I glanced at Callum, who was currently chatting with one of the guards and laughing at something the man had said. "That's Callum, and he's always been like that, so I have no idea."
Callum must have heard his name because he looked over and grinned.
"It's true! That boy has been like that since we were children, and I doubt he will change now after becoming a Witcher." Calla said.
Elanor's expression shifted to something more curious. "So that really is your brother, Instructor Calla?"
From her position in the wagon, Calla closed her book with an audible snap. "Enough talk. We are at the town, so heads up, ladies. It's time to learn."
I looked ahead and saw the town emerging from the landscape, a modest settlement with wooden buildings and a stone wall that had seen better days. Smoke rose from chimneys, and I could hear the distant sounds of daily life: hammers on anvils, voices calling out, the lowing of cattle.
We arrived at the town's gates just as the afternoon sun began its descent toward the horizon. The guards at the gate gave us curious looks but waved us through without issue, a merchant caravan with visible guards and sorceresses was clearly expected and welcome.
As the wagons rolled into the town square, Dreana stood up in the lead wagon and called out in a voice that carried authority. "Listen, everyone! We will be here until tomorrow morning. Rest, eat up, and secure our supplies."
She gestured to a rugged man with a thick beard and long hair pulled back in a ponytail. He had the look of a veteran soldier, scars on his hands, a sword that showed signs of regular use, and eyes that constantly scanned for threats.
"This is Cegar, the captain of the guard group," Dreana announced. "Anything that has to do with the security of the caravan or my goods, you tell him. If he says something is not safe or a problem, you will listen to him."
Cegar nodded to the assembled group, his expression serious but not unfriendly.
Dreana then turned to Calla. "Follow me. We need to discuss the supply situation and the teaching schedule for the next leg of the journey."
Calla gathered her things and climbed down from the wagon, gesturing for the sorceresses to follow. The young women filed out, still chattering among themselves, with Elanor throwing me one last playful look before disappearing into the crowd.
Cegar approached Callum and me, his boots crunching on the packed earth of the town square. Up close, I could see more details, the slight gray threading through his beard, the laugh lines around his eyes, the way he carried himself with the confidence of someone who'd survived more fights than he'd lost.
"Witchers," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "We will be staying at an inn called The Hatchling. It's on the eastern side of town, near the market district."
I nodded. "Okay. we will look for accommodations there or somewhere close."
Callum stretched, his joints popping audibly. "We should also look for any work that needs to be done, even though we aren't hurting for coin, especially not any time soon."
I looked at him, understanding his reasoning. "I'm still going to look for work."
I knew I was close to fully digesting my Sequence 9: Hunter potion, and the more monster hunts I did, the quicker the acting method would lead to the full digestion of the potion. Every hunt brought me closer to advancement, closer to Sequence 8 and the abilities that would unlock.
Cegar's expression shifted to something more knowing. "Why not come with me? There's a brothel nearby, good drink and food. There's also a job board right in front of it." He paused, his eyes meeting mine directly. "I want to talk to you both before we get busy."
I nodded. "Lead the way."
Callum and I fell into step behind Cegar as he led us through the town. The streets were busy with afternoon activity, merchants closing up their stalls, workers heading home, children playing in the alleys. The buildings were a mixture of wood and stone, most showing signs of age and repair.
As we walked, I was still getting all the looks I expected. Some people stared in awe, a Witcher was always a notable sight, and my distinctive appearance made me even more memorable. Others looked at me with disgust, their eyes focusing on my pointed ears with expressions of barely concealed hatred.
Some people even spat in my direction, the globules of saliva landing on the ground near my feet. I ignored them, my Cold Blooded trait keeping my emotional response muted. Getting angry at every racist asshole would be exhausting and pointless.
Callum, walking beside me, tensed each time someone spat. "I hate this," he muttered. "The way they look at you."
"It's fine," I said quietly. "I've dealt with worse."
Cegar glanced back at us, his expression unreadable. "Town's got its share of idiots. Best to ignore them."
We continued through the streets until we arrived at our destination. The brothel was called Nature's Love, and it was exactly what I expected, a two-story building with fresh paint and decorative flowers in window boxes. Women stood outside in what passed for this world's version of scantily clad clothes, low-cut bodices, skirts slit high on the thigh, bare shoulders and arms.
In my old world, this would have been normal summer or beach wear. Here, it was designed to advertise the services available inside.
As we approached, the women looked at us with professional interest. One of them, a beautiful mature woman who was slightly plump with large breasts prominently displayed in her low-cut dress, smiled broadly when she saw Cegar.
"Oh, Cegar! You're back!" she called out, her voice warm and welcoming. "And you brought friends."
Cegar's stern expression softened into something almost boyish. "Eliza, it's been so long. How have you been?"
Eliza walked down the steps, her hips swaying with practiced ease. "Busy as always, love. The road treating you well?"
"Well enough," Cegar replied. "Yes, I brought these two Witchers. They'll be with the caravan for the next few days."
Eliza turned her attention to us, her eyes sweeping over Callum first. "You got a tall one here, and handsome too." She looked him up and down appreciatively. "You from Skellig, Witcher?"
Callum smiled, that easy charm coming naturally to him. "No, ma'am. Hillstead. But I'm told my father's side of the family has some ancestry there."
"Aye, it shows," Eliza said with a knowing nod. "Not many strapping boys like you come from around here. You've got that northern look about you, the height, the build, the way you carry yourself."
She then turned to me, and I saw her eyes widen slightly. "I didn't know the Witcher schools took in elves?"
She looked at my Wolf School medallion, the silver wolf head catching the afternoon light.
"You from the Wolf School?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am," I replied.
She smiled, and something in her expression shifted, recognition, maybe, or fond memory. "Tell me, is old Vesemir still around?"
Both Callum and I raised our eyebrows in surprise. That was not what I'd expected her to say. "You know Vesemir?" I asked.
Eliza chuckled, a rich, throaty sound. "I know him very intimately, dear. Very intimately indeed." She winked, leaving no doubt about what she meant. "Now, you boys go sit down. I'll bring you some food and drinks. We can catch up properly."
She turned and walked back into the brothel, calling out orders to the other women. Cegar led us inside, and we found a table in the corner, good sightlines to the door and windows, backs to the wall. Old habits from Witcher training.
The interior of Nature's Love was surprisingly tasteful. Clean wooden floors, tables that didn't wobble, decent lighting from oil lamps and candles. The walls were decorated with paintings, some tasteful, some decidedly not, and there was a small stage in one corner where I assumed entertainment happened in the evenings.
We sat down, and Cegar leaned back in his chair, his expression becoming more serious.
"I wanted to say thanks," he began, his voice low enough that only we could hear. "For taking care of those monsters. For saving my men a longer ride and from losing their lives. And for how professional you've been."
Callum waved a hand dismissively. "It was nothing. It comes with the territory."
"We're just glad everything worked out the way it did," I added.
Cegar chuckled, the sound carrying genuine amusement. "You have no idea. Neary being gone was probably the best news I'd had in weeks. The woman was attractive, sure, but such a bitch." He shook his head. "Constantly complaining, constantly drunk, constantly making everything more difficult than it needed to be."
I couldn't help but smile slightly at that. Neary had definitely been a handful.
Cegar's expression became more earnest. "Just so you know, I don't care if you're a Witcher, elf, or non-human. To me, you're men as young as you both may be. I will still treat you with the respect of men in your profession." He looked directly at me, then at Callum. "I'm from a small settlement town where humans and non-humans live together. An elf taught me to hunt and forage for food. A dwarf taught me to build and drink." He chuckled at that memory. "Witcher's helped out occasionally too."
He paused, his eyes taking on a distant quality. "My grandfather told us stories, how Witcher's came and saved the settlement time and time again from monsters. Drowners in the river, nekkers in the mines, a leshen in the forest that nearly destroyed everything. Each time, Witcher's came and dealt with it."
His expression hardened slightly. "So we don't forget the old ways in my family. We remember what Witcher's do, what they sacrifice. Even if some Witcher's have forgotten themselves."
There was weight to those last words, a criticism of Witcher's who'd become mercenary or cruel, who'd forgotten the original purpose of their creation.
Before I could respond, Eliza returned with a tray laden with food and drinks. Roasted meat, fresh bread, cheese, and three large mugs of what smelled like decent ale.
"Here you go, loves," she said, setting everything down with practiced efficiency. "Eat up. You look like you could use it."
One of the younger girls, pretty, with auburn hair and nervous eyes, set down the drinks, her hands shaking slightly. Callum caught her eye and winked. "Thank you, love."
She blushed and hurried away, and Callum took a long drink of his ale, sighing contentedly.
We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the food better than I'd expected. The meat was well-seasoned, the bread fresh, and the ale smooth without being weak.
That's when we heard a woman scream.
The sound cut through the ambient noise of the brothel like a knife. I was on my feet instantly, my hand going to my sword hilt out of pure instinct. Callum was up just as fast, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in a heartbeat.
Near the bar, three drunken men were getting forceful with one of the girls, the same auburn-haired girl who'd brought our drinks. One of them had her by the wrist, pulling her toward him while she tried to pull away. Another was laughing, his hand reaching for her waist.
Cegar sighed, the sound carrying years of dealing with this exact situation. "Shit doesn't change no matter where you go."
He started to stand, but I put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't. Let me."
Cegar looked at me, concern flickering across his face. "I don't think that's wise. They'll see you're an elf and....."
Callum smirked, taking another drink and winking at a different girl who was watching nervously from across the room. "Cain has it. Don't worry." He looked at Cegar with complete confidence. "He won't even need to draw his sword."
I thought to myself that this was the perfect chance to test out my new Intimidate skill. I'd gotten it from one of the mutagens, but I hadn't had an opportunity to really use it yet. This seemed like an ideal situation, drunk assholes who needed to be put in their place without actual violence.
I walked up to the drunk men, my footsteps deliberate and measured. They looked at me as I approached, their alcohol-fogged brains taking a moment to process what they were seeing.
"Since when the fuck did this place let knife-eared mutant freaks in?" one of them slurred, his breath reeking of cheap wine.
I stopped a few feet away, my expression calm. "Leave the girl alone and get out until you sober up."
They didn't like that. The one holding the girl's wrist tightened his grip, making her wince. "The fuck you say, you knife-eared freak?"
He gestured to a knife at his belt, his hand moving toward it in a clumsy threat.
Cegar start to stand again, but Callum's voice stopped him. "He's fine. Worry about the other men."
Cegar's response was dry. "That is who I'm worried about."
Callum just laughed. "Cain, can you not kill them? For Cegar's sake?"
I nodded without taking my eyes off the drunk men. "Sure."
Then I focused, drawing on the Intimidate skill. It wasn't like casting a spell or using a Sign, it was more internal, more about projecting intent and presence. I thought about it like hunting, letting these drunken fools know without words that they were prey. I let that weight, that darkness, that predatory nature rise to the surface.
And I pushed it outward, focusing it entirely on the three men in front of me.
The effect was immediate and dramatic.
The man holding the girl's wrist went pale, his eyes widening as if he'd just seen something horrifying. His hand started to tremble, and he released the girl's wrist like it had burned him.
The second man took a step back, his legs shaking visibly. His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
The third man, the one who'd gestured to his knife, started to hyperventilate. His hands were trembling so badly he couldn't have drawn the weapon if he'd tried.
I noticed how all the other patrons in the brothel had backed away, their faces showing varying degrees of fear and confusion. Even the working girls had retreated, their professional masks slipping to show genuine alarm.
The drunk man who'd been holding the girl started to make a sound, a high, keening whine of pure terror. Then I saw the dark stain spreading across the front of his pants as he pissed himself.
"M-monster," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "Monster..."
I took one step forward, maintaining the pressure of the Intimidate skill, and said one word: "Boo."
All three men broke and ran, scrambling over each other in their haste to get to the door. They burst out into the street, their screams of "Monster!" echoing back into the brothel.
I let go of the intent I'd been projecting, the pressure dissipating like smoke. I looked at my hands, flexing my fingers thoughtfully. This might be very useful in the future, a way to end confrontations without violence, to control situations through pure presence and intimidation. I wouldn't even need to use the Axii sign, which is very obvious to a crowd.
Callum just smirked and stood up, wrapping his arm around my shoulder in a gesture of affection. "Come on, brother. Let's get this drink and get to work. My sister will definitely put you to work with your lessons tonight."
I nodded and walked back to the table with him. The auburn-haired girl, the one I'd helped, approached hesitantly.
"Thank you," she said, her voice soft but genuine. "I... thank you."
"No problem," I replied.
She smiled, some of her confidence returning. "My name's Layla. If you want to enjoy my company while you're in town..." She let the offer hang in the air, her meaning clear.
I nodded politely. "I'll remember that, Layla."
She blushed and hurried away, and I sat back down at the table. Cegar was staring at me with an expression that was equal parts impressed and slightly disturbed.
"That was..." he started, then shook his head. "That was impressive restraint. And effective. Thank you for helping out this place, and not shedding blood."
"It's fine," I said, taking a drink of my ale. "They were causing problems. Problems needed to be solved."
Cegar raised his mug in a toast. "To solving problems without bloodshed. A rare skill in this world."
We clinked mugs and drank, the tension from the confrontation fading into the background noise of the brothel returning to normal.
After we finished our food and drinks, Callum and I stood to leave dropping a few coins on the table. Cegar gave us directions to The Hatchling and told us he'd see us in the morning for the next leg of the journey.
We stepped out into the mid afternoon sun, and I immediately spotted the job board Cegar had mentioned. It was mounted on a post right in front of Nature's Love, covered with various notices and requests.
Callum walked up beside me, studying the board with interest. "What first? We have a bunch of missing people, a possible haunting in the nearby cemetery..." He trailed off, reading through the various postings.
I scanned the board, my mind already categorizing the jobs by difficulty and potential reward. "Why not do them all? But let's meet with the ones hiring for these commissions and negotiate better prices, fair prices and rewards."
Callum nodded, his expression approving. "Anything we're not doing?"
"No Law of Surprise," I said firmly. "We don't need more children right now."
Callum chuckled. "I understand that, but we can't work for free either."
"Let me figure that out," I said, already thinking through negotiation strategies.
I reached up and grabbed one of the notices, the cemetery job. The paper was worn but legible, describing strange occurrences in the town's graveyard. Ghostly figures, disturbed graves, sounds of wailing at night. Classic signs of either a wraith or a necrophage infestation.
"I'm starting here," I said, holding up the notice.
Callum read it over my shoulder and nodded. "Cemetery job. Good choice. Wraiths or ghouls, probably. Should be straightforward."
I folded the notice and tucked it into my pocket. The sun was beginning was getting high. We had time to find The Hatchling, secure our rooms, and maybe do some more jobs before full dark.
The hunt was about to begin again. And this time, I had a feeling I won't be ambushed by a bunch large monsters.