"Oi oi, open up!" Radkin's holler interrupted Mousesack's dissection of an unfortunate nekker. The creature was spread eagle atop a steel table, the scalpel peeling back layers of tissue one by one. Mousesack was an excellent teacher and I considered myself a dutiful student.
"Well, this will have to wait, best not to leave him waiting. He's wound tighter than this thing's rectum. Forgive the crudeness of my humour." Mousesack chuckled at his own joke. The scalpel was placed neatly in line with a host of other tools. All of which had been polished till they sparkled. They had been meticulously rinsed in alchohol of a high purity, the smell of which was faint, but nonetheless discernible.
Radkin's footsteps sounded through the halls. The doors had evidently swung open to permit him entry. Everything within the manor seemed to be under Mousesack's control. It was insightful to see so many forms and applications of magic. Sorcerers were powerful, undeniably and frightfully so. They could ward of death's creeping approach with potions and incantations, but an arrow to the chest would fell them the same as any soldier.
"Been learnin' have you? Taught him how to compose poems and read the stars?" Radkin inquired, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. His mocking was clear.
Mousesack waved his hand. The bundles of things, wrapped tightly in black cloth, rose from Radkin's arms and into the air. As if given life, the fabric unfurled itself with a bragging flourish. Segments of carapace, a few preserved organs and another cluster of black pearl like eyes, floated in the air. Mousesack drew them closer to him, inspecting each piece with glee.
"Good stuff! I've been trying to get my hands on myriapod liver for months!" He exclaimed.
Radkin was wandering around the manor with an expression equal parts disgruntlement and curiousity. He prodded and pulled at the leaves of any plant in sight. In response to Mousesack's comment he turned and flashed a grin, "Only the best for you old friend."
Mousesack laughed and waved his hand. Magic flowed with his will and the myriapod parts assembled into a line and orderly floated off out of sight into another room.
The druid suddenly cried out, "Oh!"
Radkin's eyebrows furrowed. His grip tightened around a sapling's branch that he had been toying with, with a little force it would snap.
"Oh? Come out with Mousesack?"
Mousesack rolled his eyes, "Always assuming the worst Radkin. You can stop clutching your pearls and let go of that poor yew as well. I happened to recall, I admit a tad abruptly, some news that might be of interest to you. The kind that offers coin."
Radkin's eyes lit up. He rushed to Mousesack and warmly placed a hand on his shoulder. His smile was radiant, "Old friend why didn't you say so sooner! Come, come, let's go discuss business over those delightful drinks of yours!"
Radkin hurriedly urged Mousesack out into the garden once more. Once the druid had been somewhat forcefully seated by the coin-hungry witcher, he began to speak.
"There's a plague, in Sodden. A friend of mine, a sorceress, informed me of it. I've already sent what drafts and elixirs I can, but you know as well as I do that disease is no less dangerous than magic."
Radkin clicked his tongue, "A plague, delightful. Where death and sorrow go, beasts often follow closely behind. Tell me, what creature do they wish to be put to the gallows?"
Mousesack pursed his lips. He tapped a tune on the table. The melody was fast. On the final note, he revealed the answer, "If it were easy coin, I would've remembered sooner. No, not easy at all. Sodden's got more dead bodies than there are ears of wheat in their fields. The plague shares its love equally, strong-able bodied men are dying Radkin, not just the feeble or the young.
Kissel, the enchantress with whom I'm aquianted with, doesn't dare step out of her manor, lest the wind carry forth foul droplets into her lungs. A cure's in the making of course, but even those merchants who'd sell their sons and daughters if the price was right, aren't willing to go anywhere near the city."
Radkin interrupted, scratching his head and sighing, "The city's too large to feed itself isn't it, the people are starving. They're dying of more than just the plague; hunger, unclean water, riots."
Mousesack's nimble fingers tapped against the table. The living roots rippled like raindrops striking a puddle where he touched.
"When we spoke some days ago, Kissel's skin lacked the lustrous glow of those creams that enchantresses so adore. She's working night and day. King Ekkehard is a fair ruler, but him and his ministers are desperate, and the cure will take a week longer to brew.
Plenty from her school, as well as Ban Ard are already questioning her abilities. Necrophages are rejoicing amongst the chaos, ghouls, scurvers, nekkers. They've smelt death in the air and they're rushing over like sharks to blood. The common folk, forgive my language again, are scared shitless, you'd think when night fell that some great devil had swallowed all sound from the city, they're all huddled in their homes, terrified."
Radkin sighed and inspected the dirt underneath his nails. He used his teeth to remove the dirty substances and spat them out casually, "So you want us to kill the beasts, give that enchantress friend of yours something to appease Ekkehard and his men."
"Do you agree? I can send you by portal, she's a good woman, she'll pay you fairly." Mousesack asked. He controlled his emotions well, but an eagerness slipped into his voice nonetheless. Necrophages held no respect for the workings and sanctity of nature, Mousesack's love for all living things did not extend to them. He was keen to see Sodden rid of the foul creatures.
Radkin spat out a particularly large brown glob. He spent a moment admiring it proudly. Then he rose to his feet and arched his back to stretch. Once his body's stiffness had been attended to, he finally answered, "Aye, I'd squirm my way up a dragon's arse if the coin were great enough, we'll do it. Jack, come, we'll get the horses."
Radkin swaggered out of the room without waiting for a response. Mousesack's cheery smile indicated that he didn't mind. He turned to me and spoke happily, "I'll contact Kissel with my megascope at once! You'll be on your way within the hour! Good, very good! The sooner Sodden is rid of those putrid insults to mother earth the better! Run along Jack, I'll prepare some fruits and beverages for your travel."
He got to his feet happily and hurried out of the room, ascending a spiral staircase of elegant white marbel, but not before placing a hand on my shoulder and saying warmly, "A pity your visit couldn't be longer. You must come again, if I am not here then you shall find me in Skellige or the Grove near Velen. Those of my kind gather there. I must be off, return swiftly Jack."
It took no more than a half hour for Radkin and I to gather our things. Holding our steeds by their reins we lead them through the city to Mousesack's manor. The horse's kicked their heels and whinnied fearfully upon entering the enchanted orchard, but with generous bribery using the ripe pears and profuse encourangement, they passed through without too much delay.
"They'll feel more at home here than in the bleedin' forests!" Radkin commented as we lead our horses through the door and into the verdant interior of the manor. The sarcasm in his words was thick.
Mousesack was seated in a decadent armchair. There was a hurriedness about him that was unusual. The instant the doors swung open, of their own accord of course, he leapt to his feet and rushed towards us. His hands waved about wildly as he talked, "Good, very good! I've spoken to Kissel, she's expecting you, she'll pay 50 oren for every beast you slay. There's some political complexity to it, but you'll be working in the king's name, you'll have a dozen men to assist your work!"
Some reluctance seeped into his voice. He became a touch quieter and his words were far slower, "I'm sorry you cannot linger here, your company is a rare delight for me Radkin. And you Jack, you must be sure to visit me on your travels. You will make a fine witcher."
Mousesack closed his eyes. The medallion against my chest shook violently. Radkin's did the same. The space to Mousesack's left began to distort. First in the way that tongues of flame caused the air to shimmer, then whiteish light burst forth and the space began to twist and fold in incomprehensible ways.
"Goodbye old friend. I hope to see you again soon." Mousesack said with a slight smile.
Radkin patted him forcefully on the shoulder. The gesture contained a warmth that only the two men, one a man transformed by magic, the other a druid who wielded it freely, could truly understand.
"Goodbye old friend." Radkin said. There was no slyness or roguishness to it. Only a sincere and hopeful affection. Then, without turning his head, he stepped into the circle of glowing light and was gone, whisked away by Mousesack's magic. His steed, Lingon, followed him without questioning the rippling light and shimmering air. Perhaps it was already familiar with this way of travel.
My feet paused a few paces before the portal. They had done so without conscious thought. I turned to Mousesack, "Thank you for your kindness. And your advice. I hope that not too long shall pass before we see each other again."
The druid smiled at me. Warmly. Almost fatherly. He rubbed Anna's haunches. Sne whinnied softly and happily in response. Then, he drew back his hand. It rested somewhat uncertainly at his side, as if trying to determine whether to reach out. He did not.
"Goodbye Jack, it's been a delight to meet a mind as inquisitive and cultured as yours. Especially for one so young. Go, I wish you good fortune in Sodden. Let the horrors of this world not shake your creed."
It was a tender parting message. Experiencing such endearment from one who didn't share the same amber eyes was rare. A welcome change. With a smile I lowered my head in acknowledgement. Then, glowing light filled my vision.
For a moment I was weightless. Everything was deafening yet silent simultaneously. A strange state of neither here nor there. Then my feet touched on solid ground once more.
The ceiling was tall enough to accomodate several ogroids stood upon one another's heads. Not that they would ever be inclined to do such a thing. The walls were decorated with dozens of carefully stitched coats of arms and the air smelled of wax and importance. Where ornate coats of arms did not take up the space, mounted heads of bears and wolves upheld the room's regality. Their snarls were carefully sculpted to reveal every fang, evidently the taxidermist had taken great pains in his work.
Heads turned to look at me. Dozens of them. The majority had long beards, beady eyes and chins that drooped like turkeys. Clear indications of decadent diet and tremendous self-importance. A kind-smile and a pair of blue eyes stood out amongst them. Though they did not sparkle as Mousesack's did, the calmness within them was deep and certain. A crown rested nicely on the head of the kind-eyed man.
"Not just one, but two! How marvellous, Kissel, you have brought such a delightful surprise! Welcome to Sodden witcher, I have seen a few of your kind, but never one so young!" King Ekkehard declared. His voice was rich and velvety.
To the left of the king's throne, a woman stood. A few flowing locks of blonde hair were tucked back neatly behind her ear. Her skin was radiant and dewy. Too enchanting to be achieved without creams and potions. Hearing the king's praise, she smiled, "Thank you my king! Both are experts of their craft, though the stubble on his chin is slight, the younger has already slew a myriapod a dozen times his size!"
The king's confidants exchanged looks, their eyebrows raised. Their wealth and lofty positions inevitably gave rise to a certain academic competency. No common person could recognize the word myriapod, they could only describe the beast as some sort of serpent with far too many hideous legs.
Soft murmuring filled the room. Ekkehard silenced them with a raise of his hand. His authority was overwhelming.
"An impressive feat. It is my hope that you shall perform equally as admirably now. Tell me, Radkin, how long do you and your boy need before you can begin your work?"
It seemed that Radkin had become acquaintated with King Ekkehard whilst I bid farewell to Mousesack. He spoke without airs to the king, no differently than he would a peasant, "Our work can begin at once your highness. Give us a few of your soldiers to guide us to the sewers and crypts and we'll have our blades swinging within the hour. The boy's no fledgeling, give him his own men, he doesn't need me to babysit."
The king nodded, the rubies in his crown were as large as pigeon eggs. Similarly costly rings adorned his fingers. He tapped the arm of his throne and pointed leisurely to a tall and broad-shouldered man, whom immediately straightened up as if a hot brand had been placed against his buttock.
"Olad, your men know the creatures' dens. Have them show our guests where they need to wield those charming twin blades." King Ekkehard announced.
The tall and broad man grasped the hilt of his sword and nodded forcefully. He spoke loudly in a voice that rang out through the hall, "Upon your will highness!"
"Your highness, permit me to speak briefly with our guests before they begin their work." The enchantress said.
The king glanced at her and nodded, her question clearly not requiring much thought. I noted that his gaze did not linger lecherously on her breasts as those of men often did.
The echantress smiled and strode out of the hall. Radkin grunted and followed after her, motioning with his head for me to follow. Two huge doors, adorned with beautiful carvings, swung shut behind us, muffling the voices of the ministers who had begun to talk upon our exit.
The enchantress lead us without speaking through long and winding corridors. Every few meters a guard stood rigidly, eyeing us as we walked. Her pace was brisk and we soon arrived to a section of the castle that spiralled skywards. She led us up the stairs, maintaining the quickness of her steps.
Another set of doors appeared in front of us. The enchantress's steps did not slow even for a moment. The doors swung open before her, without requiring any exertion from her fair and fetching hands.
Upon our entrance into the large open space inside the spire, with air intwined with a thick herbal scent, the enchantress's shoulders slackened abruptly. With a half-tired, half-humoured smile she addressed us, "Welcome friends of Mousesack, I am sorry to have sprung such an audience upon you. The king was delighted when he hear that a witcher, in fact not just one, but two, would be coming to rid us of this dreadful infestation, he insisted you appear in front of him at once."