Philippa's Grace (The Witcher)

Witch way to the which? Or is it Which to the Witch? I do tend to get confused.

As it happened, destiny decided that Geralt and Philippa seek out a witch, one who might have the answers they're looking for in regards to the young Ciri. After dealing with the Baron, the presence of an old decrepit lady of the forest would be a nice change of pace.

Though not every witch in the woods of Velen is so hospitable.

At the moment though, Witches are the least of the concern of Geralt and Philippa.

___________________________________________________________________________

"YOU WRETCHED LITTLE THINGS! I'LL BLAST YOU! I'LL BLAST YOU TO PIECES!"

Geralt and Philippa were running.

Well more accurately, Geralt was running - Philippa was slung over his left shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

Nekkers - horrible little things; members of the ogre family of monsters. Short, grey, and ugly as sin, they're smart enough to cover their crotches with lion clothes, and use rudimentary tools, but not much else. One would eat their own foot if it looked tasty enough. In fact, Nekkers alone weren't much of a challenge. They were like a small, horrid looking child who wanted to bite a hole in your throat. 

But in numbers, they were a threat that plagued the Velen countryside. People never realized it until it's too late that they stumbled upon a Nekker nest. 5 Nekkers were deadly. 10 was a challenge for a Witcher to handle alone.

There were a dozen chasing after Geralt and Philippa.

"Run straighter!" Philippa ordered Geralt." I want to turn these horrid little things to ash! Why are we running?!"

Philippa sent a blast of magic at the Nekkers chasing them. Nekkers were agile creatures, and easily jumped out of the way of her magic.

"Philippa, this is called a tactical retreat." Geralt grunted as he continued to run. "And you can't even stand."

It was true. One of the Nekkers managed to sneak close enough to Philippa, and bite down on her ankle.

"Retreat my backside!" Philippa yelled, as she tried to blast another Nekker. "What happened to your Witcher powder? I thought it kept buggers like this away!"

"I didn't think to put it down." Geralt admitted as he leapt over a fallen branch. "Besides, all that screaming you were doing is probably what attracted them."

Philippa's libido was acting up again. It was only midday, and she insisted that they stop. Geralt was afraid she was sick again, until she basically pounced on him. In a matter of moments, they were rolling around in the grass, going at each other. Loud enough to attract monsters as it were.

"Well if you weren't drilling into me like your cock would fall off if you didn't use it-"

"You certainly weren't complaining."

"Ass!" 

"Save it for them, not me."

Geralt continued running through the clearing, but he could hear water rushing ahead - they were coming upon a river, and there back would be to the water. They had to handle these pests.

"We need something to group these buggers together. Got a spell for that?" Geralt asked.

"Rudimentary spell, yes."

"Well the moment I spin you around, cast it, and try not to miss."

Whatever smart reply Philippa had was cut short, because Geralt almost immediately stopped on the spot. He slid her off of his shoulder, essentially cradling her in one arm. She spun around quickly, just as the Nekkers were getting uncomfortably close.

"Wiązać!" Philippa cast. As the first syllable left her mouth, Geralt reach to grab her outstretched wrist, and cast his own sign

"Yrden!"

The pair cast their respective spells melded together like alchemy. Philippa's normally blue spell glowed purple as it soared through the air. The bolt of magic hit the Nekker in the front, before exploding in a reaction like a bomb. Suddenly, the swarm of Nekkers all began to act like magnets and their bodies flew through the air, sticking to the Nekker that was struck. Soon the dozen Nekkers that had been chasing them became a large ball of angry, wriggling little monsters. The ball of flesh rolled forward - Geralt simply side stepped it as it rolled and rolled, before rolling into the river.

"Can Nekkers swim?" Philippa asked.

"As well as a lead weight." Geralt responded.

"Good. Serves the little shits right."

Geralt carried Philippa bridal style back to where they made their camp. He was worried that the any remaining Nekkers might have hurt Roach, but when they got to their camp, Roach was fine. In fact, there were 2 dead Nekkers with their heads stomped in, proving what an Ornery old girl Roach was. Geralt set Philippa down to give Roach a proper inspection. Nothing but a few superficial scratches. It'll add to her war stories.

"So the horse gets treated before the mother of your child?" Philippa asked, folding her arms over her chest.

"Roach isn't a powerful sorceress. Probably as old as one, but studying spells never seemed to be her interest."

Geralt walked back over to Philippa to check on her wound. She was barefoot from the romp, and the Nekker took a nice bite into her ankle and lower calf. Luckily Nekkers weren't among the long list of monsters who were venomous or toxic - their mouths certainly weren't clean but it was nothing most salve couldn't fix in a snap. He went to his pouch and pulled out a small jar of green salve meant to disinfect wounds. He opened the lid, and scooped a generous amount on his fingers. He knelt down at Philippa's feet and took ahold of her wounded foot.

"This might sting." He admitted.

"I've literally had my eyes gouged out." Philippa reminded the Witcher. "I hardly doubt a little cream will - OH SON OF A WHORE!"

Philippa hissed in pain as Geralt spread the salve over her wound. He smirked a bit at her discomfort before grabbing some bandages and wrapping her ankle.

"You did that on purpose." She grumbled.

"Want me to kiss it to make it better?"

Philippa kicked at Geralt, but reeled back in pain. Frowning, she mumbled a spell, hand glowing green, and waved it over her ankle.

"What was that?"

"Numbing spell. Hand me my boots."

"Is that a good idea?"

"Better than walking around in pain all day."

Geralt's point was made as Philippa tried to stand, and nearly toppled over on her numb foot. "Shut up." She said, before he even said a word.

All things considered, they were all fine. However the Nekkers did a number on their gear. Roach's side pouch carrying the majority of their supplies was completely chewed through, and the food they had saved was either eaten or wasted on the ground.

Looks like a contract was their next step before meeting their witch

______________________________________________________________________

Blackborough was a small village, not very far from Crow's Perch. There couldn't be more than 2 dozen or so inhabitants in all of it, even before the war. It was on the road to Midcopse as it were, so it worked as a place to resupply and possibly pick up a contract. As Geralt and Philippa rode into town, they passed in front of a hut where a man and a woman stood next to each other by the door. The woman's eyes grew a bit as she saw, trepidation clear. The man also looked surprised to see them, but he looked as if he wanted something. 

The man said something to the woman, and she shook her head adamantly. 

"No! They're strangers!" The woman hissed quietly, not knowing Geralt could hear her.

"I have to!" The man responded. "I have to try any and everything."

With that, he ran toward the pair, waving them down.

"Sir, ma'am" He greeted, walking next to Roach.

"I'm not not any kind of sir." Geralt responded, looking down at him with an arched brow. 

"Right...sorry, it's just...are you adventures of some kind? Been around the countryside?." The villager asked.

"A Witcher and his companion. What interest is it of yours where we've been?"

"It's just- That is to say."

"This might go easier if you just tell us what you want." Philippa cut in. The man sighed and nodded.

"Me name's Niellen. I'm a hunter around these parts. My wife Hanna-" The man said despondently. "She's gone missing. Been gone 5 days now. I've put up notices around other villages, hoping someone might come along with something useful - offered a reward. Nothing yet."

"Hm. Maybe we should talk inside." Geralt responded.

"Aye."

Philippa and Geralt dismounted Roach, and followed Niellen inside his hut - a small family home. The three sat at the table in the center

"This is Hanna's sister, Margrit." Niellen introduced. Margrit was young, mid 20s perhaps, and a pretty gal; freckled round face wearing a simple dress and a straw hat. She nodded her head politely at the pair. "She's been helping me get through this. I'm worried sick to me stomach."

"You said your wife's been gone 5 days." Geralt said. "Maybe she went to the next village. Forgot to tell you?"

Niellen went to speak, but Margrit cut him off

"Nay. My sister's never been gone this long before. Asked around the village, and no one seen her go - she must have left whilst they were still sleep. I always told her time and again not to wander off on her own. She never listened."

"Was everything okay with you and your wife?" Geralt followed up.

"Okay as could be." Niellen answered.

"No fight? No forgotten anniversaries?" Philippa added. Niellen nodded his eyes, and his mouth went to a hard line. 

"She didn't run off, if that's what yer implyin'" He said gruffly. "She was as happy and smiling as one could be in these times."

"Easy there." Geralt placated, some warning in his voice. "No offense intended. We're just covering all the possibilities."

Niellen was silent for a moment, before sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just worried is all. It's my wife. Me and some menfolk went lookin' for her in the woods, and nothin'."

"I'll - look in the woods. You might have missed something." said Geralt. "Ask around too. She have any friends."

"Hanna kept - keeps to herself mostly." The sister spoke. "Watches the blacksmith's youngins at times. And in the village - Glenna, the butcher's wife - she likes her best."

"Thanks. We'll try and find her, but no promises."

"That's all I ask." Niellen sighed wearily. Geralt and Philippa left the hut, and walked through the village looking for their leads.

"You hesitated." Philippa commented as they walked.

"Pardon?" Geralt asked, glancing at her.

"When you said we'll look in the woods." Philippa pointed out. "You hesitated."

"Didn't notice."

"Oh you can't bullshit me Witcher. You're not as stoic as you think you are. What is it?"

"...Velen is a dangerous place. We've seen that first hand. Nearly turned into Nekker stew earlier." Geralt stated.

"Point?"

"Point is, a woman missing for 5 days, next village is several hours walking, in a war torn, monster infested woods - point is there might not be much left to look for."

"You think she's dead." Philippa said rhetorically.

"Sister seemed to think so too."

"Yes...she did, didn't she?" Philippa reckoned. "Then why did we take the job?"

"We need coin and supplies, don't we?"

Philippa and Geralt walked through the village, until they got to a hut where a woman was plucking a half dozen birds of a variety in her backyard. 

"Greetings." Geralt called out, getting her attention. "You Grenna?"

The woman stopped plucking the bird then wiped her hands on her skirt. She stood and walked toward him, looking back and forth between him and Philippa.

"Aye." She affirmed. "The gristle and marrow is all I'm willing to sell, and you'll have to wait until I'm done carving it."

"We're not here for bird parts." Philippa said, wrinkling her nose a bit.

"No? Then what ya come for?" Grenna asked, looking at them a bit suspiciously now.

"Wanted to talk to you about Hanna." Responded Geralt. "Heard you two were friendly."

"And who you hear that from?"

"So, you two weren't friendly?" Philippa pushed.

"Friendly enough I suppose." Grenna confirmed. "She'd come by and we'd speak sometimes. Bit overly cheery. Not much to be happy about these days, but she was always smiling all the same. Guess you askin' mean she aint come back."

"No." Geralt answered. 

"Shame. Guess overly cheery was better than none at all." Grenna said, shaking her head. "If I had to guess, I'd say the wolves got to her."

Philippa raised an eyebrow. "Wolves?"

"Aye. They howl all throughout the night." Grenna nodded. "The Baron's men aint no help neither, especially after one of them got mauled real bad. Hanna's a nice girl, but not too bright. She must've gone to forage for mushrooms, strayed too deep."

Geralt thought it was strange that Niellen didn't mention wolves. That's something of note. Geralt thanked the butcher's wife, and he and Philippa went across the road. The house had a forge next to it, so they surmised that this must've been the home of the blacksmith. A boy and a girl sat by the forge as their father worked, shoveling coals into the fire. The children looked at the two in wonder.

"Woooow." The boy said in awe. "My dad used to make swords like yours. Can I touch it?"

"It's sharp. Better not." Geralt answered.

"I like the feathers in your hair." The girl said to Philippa.

"Oh...erm, thank you." Philippa replied awkwardly, not expecting the complement. "I...like your hair too?"

The girl giggled, and a small smile spread across Geralt's face that would be a shit eating grin on any other man

"Can I help you with something?" The blacksmith questioned, putting down his shovel. "I'm not in the business of making swords anymore - just hoes and scythes now. If you want good arms, you need to go to Novigrad."

"My swords are just fine. We're actually here about something else. Wanted to ask you about Hanna, heard she looked after your children."

" Aunt Hanna?" The girl asked excitedly "Do you know where she is?"

"No, that's why I'm here. She maybe tell you where she was going, or anything else?"

"She said turnips are healthy, and we ought eat them" The girl answered innocently.

"I saw her go to the forest with another lady." The boy chimed in. "It was dawn almost." 

"Oi, what were you doing up before dawn?" His father asked, hands on his hips. The boy seemed to realize he said too much, and began to stammer.

"Uh...I was...I…"

"Out with it."

The boy looked down at his feet and fidgeted. "I was playing with a scythe" He mumbled quickly.

"Dammit boy, I've told you time and again that they're-"

"-not toys" The boy said in unison with his father.

"I'll deal with you later." The blacksmith warned. "But if Hanna went into the forest, she's done for."

"Why?" asked Geralt.

"A huge pack roams the area." The blacksmith explained. "None from the village dares go in the forest, cept' Niellen, but he's a hunter."

"You get a good look at the other woman?" Geralt asked, turning to the boy.

"Nay. She walked in front of aunt Hanna.".

"Anyone else reported missing from here?" Philippa queried. The blacksmith shook his head.

"No. Everyone is accounted for cept' Hanna."

"So two women enter the forest, and one comes back." Philippa alluded. "Seems wolves aren't the only thing this village has to worry about."

____________________________________________________________________________

Geralt and Philippa rode into the heavily forested area immediately North of the village. It had been 5 days, and things are never static in the woods, so picking up a trail wasn't an easy task. A pack of wolves rarely left scraps, and if the wolf problem was as bad as the villagers seemed to think - well there are rare instances where a person could truly disappear from this earth, but this would've been one of them. They rode a short while, until Geralt suddenly stopped Roach, and began to sniff the air.

"What is it?" Philippa asked, looking around.

"A kill." He said, tensing up. "Close by. I can smell the blood in the air."

Geralt dismounted Roach before helping Philippa down. 

"What do we do if the wolves notice us?" Philippa questioned.

"They noticed us 10 minutes ago." Geralt pointed out. "They seem busy with a meal, which is the only reason they didn't bound down on us."

They walked slowly through a brush; waiting on the other side was a pack of wolves, 4 adults, and 2 pups. They were around the corpse of a dog, looked like a hunting dog. The wolves circled around the dog, picking at its flesh. The pack sentry alerted the rest to Geralt and Philippa, and they all turned their attention to the pair, teeth bared and growling. Philippa got her hands ready, prepared to blast the wolves to pieces, but Geralt held up his hand, stopping her.

"No need for that." He said, before quickly signing AXII, and waving his hand in the direction of the wolves. The white aura of the sign enveloped the heads of the wolves, and immediately their aggression ceased. They relaxed, and looked at Geralt and Philippa as if they were just members of the pack. "Go." Geralt said simply, waving his hand forward. After a moment, the wolves turned, and ran off into the woods

"Hm, why am I not surprised that you speak wolf." Philippa commented wryly. 

"One of my many talents." Geralt returned as he knelt down next to the dog corpse. His eyes scanned over it, looking for clues. Philippa looked over his shoulder at it and cringed.

"Wolves really did a number on the poor thing." She lamented.

"Hm. Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Well no, not maybe. Definitely not. This dog was dead before the Wolves got to it."

Philippa furrowed her eyebrows, not following the Withcer. 

"The corpse is half rotted, even you can smell that." Geralt continued. He was right, flies buzzed around the body, as it emanated an off-putting smell.

"So what? They killed it earlier, then decided to come back later to eat it?" Philippa questioned.

"Still doesn't add up. Look at the kill wound."

"I would rather not."

"Just do it."

Philippa frowned, but did as she was told, crouching down a bit to examine the dog. It's entrails were split out of a large gash in it's stomach.

"Notice anything strange." Geralt asked.

"A dead dog." Philippa answered smartly.

"The wounds aren't consistent with a wolf attack." Geralt pressed on. "Wolves attack in - if they did it, you'd see wounds everywhere: legs, ears, face. They'd overwhelm their prey. Plus the wounds would be bite marks. This looks as if one beast did it - slashed it across the stomach with one swoop."

"What does that all mean?"

"Means this got more complicated." Geralt figured. He stood back to his full height and looked over to a tall bush. "And I'm guessing this is only going to make it more so. You can come out now."

Geralt called out to beyond the bushes. A moment passed before they rustled, and Margrit stepped through them.

"How do you know I was there?" She asked, sounding a bit surprised.

"Witcher." Geralt replied simply. "You've been following us for a while now. Why? 

"I came to tell you...you neednt look for Hanna." She said quickly. "She'd have returned long past were she alive. I'll pay ya twice Niellen's pledge. Just tell the man his Hanna's dead."

 Geralt gave her a strange look, while Philippa kept her face passive. Seems things were getting more interesting.

"Don't want to know what happened to her?" Geralt asked, folding his arms over his chest.

"I have no illusions Withcer." Margrit sighed. "In Velen you're gone as long as she's been, you don't come back. Hanna's dead for certain. Niellen ought to accept his loss - move on with his life."

Geralt narrowed his eyes, searching the young woman's face. "Strange, People usually prefer to know the fate of their loved ones, whatever the cost."

"And what good would that do? I'll not get my sister back, and Niellen's all I got left. I can't lose him too!"

"You care alot about him." Philippa stated. Margrit turned and looked at her, eyebrows furrowing.

"Of course I do." She replied, offended seemingly offended by the statement. "We grew up together in this village, all of us. He's as much family as Hanna."

"Then why not give him the proper closure." Geralt pushed. Margrit just smiled sadly

"You don't know him like I do." She whispered. "He's a...passionate man. There will be no closure for him. He'll not rest until he avenges his Hanna, finds whoever did it - even if it eats him. He deserves better than that."

Geralt didn't reply, simply glancing over at Philippa. 

"Think about it." Margrit said. "You know it to be the right thing to do."

With that, she turned back towards the village and left. Geralt and Philippa gave a moment to make sure she was gone before they spoke again.

"What do you think?" Philippa asked, breaking the silence.

"I think we're not getting paid enough for this." Geralt grunted. "Always something under the cut."

"There's some logic to her words." Philippa admitted. "You said it yourself, we'd be lucky to find remains."

"Maybe...But there's something else."

"And what's that."

"She said whoever killed Hanna... not whatever ."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she knows more than she's letting on." Geralt hypothesized. "Meaning our job's not done yet."

Geralt turned away from Philippa, and began to sniff the air like a dog. He caught wind of something.

"There's another body- Nearby." He said. 

"What, another dog?"

"No… follow me."

Geralt began walking, following his nose and the invisible trail. After about 10 minutes, they arrived at their destination.

To call what they saw a corpse would be a misrepresentation: they were just looking at a mess. A scattered pile of limbs and pink and red viscera. It was as if someone's stew spilt out of their pot, chunks of meat and flesh on the red stained grass. Philippa covered her nose and reeled at the sight of it.

"Is that-"

"Hanna...what's left of her that is."

"By magic, what did this to her?"

Geralt looked around at the surroundings. He walked to a nearby tree, and ran his hands over a set of deep claw marks embedded in the bark.

"This looks like a werewolf to me." He said. He looked around and noticed similar indentations in the grass, leading west.

"A werewolf?"

"Every had to deal with one?"

"Not personally, no, but there've been a fair share of outbreaks during my time in Redania. Put a few of your predecessors to work" Philippa confessed. "I guess it makes sense though. It'd explain Margrit's behavior-"

"I know what you're getting at, and no, it's not her." Geralt interrupted.

"You know that how?"

"Women can't become werewolves." 

"That...can't possibly be true."

"Have you ever heard of one?"

"Well...no."

"In my years, I've fought dozens of werewolves, and not one had turned out to be a woman. "Don't really know why - maybe it has something to do with testosterone."

"Well if it's not her, then who could it be?" Philippa huffed. Geralt shrugged. That wasn't as important as finding the beast in the moment. They had a trail to follow.

"Let's go find out." Said Geralt. He whistled for Roach, and they were off - moving slowly through the woods, Geralt looking out for any and all clues: prints, tufts of fur, the scent of blood. Eventually the trail led them to an isolated shack - looked as if it was hastily built.

"A shack away from everything." Geralt commented. "You'd have to be looking to find it."

They dismounted Roach, and went to the door. Geralt listened for if anyone was inside. It was empty. Slowly, he opened the door, and they stepped inside. Despite the outside, the interior was rather clean and orderly - obviously someone was at least trying to live comfortably. In the corner was a pile of torn clothes which Geralt could only assume was from the remnants of a transformation.

"Trail ends here." Geralt said, but it didn't seem right to him.

"Well this hardly looks like the dwellings of a bloodthirsty beast." Philippa stated.

"Hm. It doesn't, does it?" Geralt agreed. Geralt sniffed the air again, and looked around, before stepping back outside. He walked a few paces so that he could see the full of the shack. Rubbing his chin, he walked to the side of it, on a hunch. The house was built on the hill, so he decided to see that was on the other side.

"You find anything?" Philippa asked, coming out the shack a moment after him. "Geralt?"

"Down here." He called from the other side of the hill. "You're going to want to see this."

Philippa followed his voice around the side of the shack and down the hill. On the other side, she was surprised to see the hill side had been carved out, with stone and wood supports holding the house up. Geralt was standing by a pathway, covered by large planks of wood, satisfied look on his face.

"What is this?" Philippa asked.

"Looks like some sort of entrance to me, a mine most likely.." Geralt guessed. "Long dilapidated...and the perfect liar for a werewolf. I can smell the remnants of one leading down there."

"So what now? We head down there?"

"Not yet. There's some preparations to be had, and it's unlikely he'd be in there during the day. For now, we head back to Blackborough and wait until night fall…"

"And then?"

"Then we earn our coin."

____________________________________________________________________________

The pair waited just outside of town until night overtook Velen. Geralt took stock of what he had to go toe to toe with a Werewolf. He applied cursed oil to his silver blade and crossbow bolts, it'd help slow down the beast if he managed to land a hit. He also had two moon dusts - small bombs filled with silver shavings, very irritable to Werewolves. It wasn't much on short notice, but it would have to do.

They rode back to the shack, and went to the entrance of the mine. The pieces of wood covering the entrance were in a different position telling them that something was in there.

The entered and descended town the cavern. It was a large mineshaft, with a high ceiling, and deep gashes in the walls. They obviously were pulling something valuable from it in the past. They continued walking until the mineshaft transitioned into a natural underground cave; damp with tepid air, stalagmites and stalactites adorning the ceilings and floors.

Suddenly, a pained howl echoed through the cave. 

Seems they were close. Geralt drew his sword, and looked back at Philippa.

"Ready?" He asked.

"As I'm going to be." She answered honestly. Slowly they continued walking until they arrived into a large cavern. Geralt could sense the beast, and it could no doubt sense them. 

"What...what are you doing here?" A horribly deep voice called out from the far corner. A horrible mass of fur and grey flesh rose from the floor of the cave. It was hard to describe the uncanniness of a werewolf; some monsters had humanoid forms, but a werewolf was more beastiely than man - a massive body of fur and wolflike, with its body broken and shifted to stand like a man. The creature's jaundiced yellow eyes pierced across the room, staring at Geralt and Philippa, unblinking. It stood to its full height, well over 8 feet tall. "NOBODY IS SUPPOSED TO BE HERE"

Philippa took a half step back at the boom of the wolf's voice, but Geralt just matched it's gaze.

"I'm here to do my job." Geralt said simply. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small vial of red liquid. A mutagen. He quickly popped the cork and downed it in one gulp. The effects were immediate, Geralt's chest tightening, his heart beat rapidly beating. The veins in his neck and face strained, and looked blackened, and his eyes darkened until the white was completely gone. It ALWAYS hurt, but Geralt was used to it. Shaking it off, he gripped the handle of his sword tightly. "Shall we begin."

The werewolf roared, loud enough where Philippa found her ears ringing. The beast leapt forward, clearing nearly half the room in the single bound. Geralt also moved forward, Sword held in a low guard. He'd never match the speed of the wolf, but the mutagen decreased the deficit substantially. The Withcer's advantage was the fullness of his mind - while Werewolves could very well maintain their consciousness, when their hearts began to race, and their blood pumping, the bloodlust and instinct of their lycan form kicked in. They slashed wildy, without thinking about their attacks. That was too The Witcher's advantage. While one slash could take his head clean off of his shoulders, they were heavily telegraphed.

Geralt was able to duck under the beast's initial attack, slashing it's massive claws at Geralt's throat. The Witcher rolled forward and spun quickly, slashing at the werewolf's back, tip of his sword just connecting. It's skin was thick, but Geralt was able to make a 5 inch gash in it. The beast roared and spun it's large hand back into Geralt's chest - this time he wasn't lucky enough to dodge it. He was flung back several yards, crashing through a stalagmite 

Philippa attempted to assist, casting a spell of magical chains to try and hold the beast in place for Geralt. What she didn't know however was magic was near useless on werewolves - their curse had that advantage. Her magic bounced off it ineffectually, but it did draw it's attention. Philippa gasped out loud as the horrible mass bounded at her. She never moved so fast in her life - and likely never would again - she dove out of the way before the wolf could pounce on her. She landed hard on her side on the stone floor of the cave, disorienting herself. She rolled to her back to see the Werewolf moving toward her, mouth open showing off it's horrible teeth. Philippa scurried backward, throwing any spell she could think to stop the beast's advance. She found fire seemed to hurt it, but also just made it angrier. She put all her magic behind blasting fire out of her palms to keep the werewolf at bay, but it moved through the flames, looming over her.

"Oh Gods-" She gasped as it raised a claw to her. Before it could strike, Geralt ran at it full speed, using his shoulder to turn himself into a javelin and knock the beast over. The Witcher and the wolf rolled in a heap, his gear scattering about. They rolled several feet ending with the beast mounted on Geralt. The Witcher held his blade horizontally, using it to defend himself against the rabid wolf snapping its jaws and slashing at him. Geralt was strong, but the weight and the force of something the size of a Werewolf pushed his strength to the limit. His harms shook and strained as he tried to hold the beast back. 

Philippa scrambled to her feet, trying to think of some way, anyway she could help. She looked down and saw one of the bombs Geralt had brought laying at her feet. She scooped it up into her hands and lit it before throwing it in an arc to land next to the struggle. The werewolf took its eyes off Geralt for a moment, turning its head to look at the hissing bomb. It exploded a moment later, a fine silver mist filling the dispersing into the air. The beast howled, it's eyes, nose and skin burning as the small particles of silver came into contact. It took its claws off of Geralt in an attempt to rub its face, trying to wipe away the contaminants. 

This was the moment Geralt needed. He quickly rolled to his feet, and swung his sword heavily across the chest of the wolf. The beast howled as the silver blade cut him, stumbling backwards on it's large feet. 

Geralt needed to end this quickly. Philippa's presence offered a complication, her magic not being of much use, but her being a target of the angry monster. He needed to incapacitate the Werewolf.

Gripping his sword handle overhand like a spear, he raised the blade level with his head, tip pointed and the reeling monster.

Then with all his might, He threw his blade straight as an arrow. He yelled "Aard!" right as the blade left his hand, sending a strong wave of telekinetic force behind. His sword soared through the air like it was fired from a ballista, striking the Werewolf in the shoulder with such force that it was taken clear of his feet and driven backwards into the stone wall of the cave, sword embedded into the rock, and pinning it there. It howled in agony, unable to move.

"No! Stop!" A voice shrieked out. Geralt turned to see none other than Margrit running toward them. She threw herself in front of Geralt, protecting the Werewolf. "Don't hurt him!" 

Geralt for one, was sick of whatever the hells it was going on. Too many lies and secrets for one day. Geralt moved forward, gripping the hilt of his sword and pulled hard, freeing it from the stone and the flesh of the beast. The Werewolf fell forward onto its hands and knees. MArgrit immediately crouched down and held it protectively.

"I think we need to talk." Geralt growled. 

"I-it's Niellen." Margrit cried. Geralt arched an eyebrow and looked at the monster. The tattered clothes hanging to his body did match what Niellen had been wearing earlier, his green and brown tunic and tan pants.

"Doesn't matter. It's a curse, and I have to finish this." Geralt said, gripping his sword.

"I love him!" Margrit replied adamantly. "Everything was fine until you two came along! Go away, leave us be!"

"Will someone please explain to me what in the hells is going on?" Philippa said, managing to walk over to the scene.

"I-I've always loved him." Margit admitted. "Even after I learned his secret."

"You knew?" Niellen spoke."Did you know I shut meself in here to wait out me change?"

"Of course I knew, and I didn't mind...but you chose Hanna...I wanted her to see you, I wanted her to fear you. She not have stayed. Then we could be together!"

"You brought here here - that night." Niellen said slowly. When one changed into their wolf form, they tended to lose expression in their face beyond bestial fury. But Geralt could see clear as day the pure anguish overwashing him. "It was the reason I had the taste of blood in my mouth come morn."

"You sent your sister here to die?" Philippa asked. It wasn't really a question. All the pieces were adding up. A tale as old as time. Jealousy.

"No, NO!" Margrit pleaded. "She was only supposed to see the turn, nothing more! You have to believe me. You all have to believe me!"

"I do." Niellen said, voice low. He pushed himself off the ground, standing back to his full height. "And I'll still kill you willingly...First time for that in fact."

Margrit stepped back in horror.

"Please...please I love you." She begged. "I did it for us-"

Her pleads fell on deaf ears, as he stepped toward her. Geralt shifted his body between them, looking up at the beast - the man whose face was in agony and cold fury.

"Step aside Witcher." Niellen demanded. "This is none of your business anymore. This is a familial matter.

"I'm a Withcer. Monsters are my business."

"Then you strike down the woman behind you."

"Last chance. Back off now. I can't let you do this. It'd go against my code. It doesn't have to end this way"

"Aye. But it has to end."

Niellen was bleeding heavily from the wound on his abdomen and shoulder. Even with his increased healing, Philippa foresaw Geralt slaying Niellen without much effort. But as Philippa looked at the two wolves standing off, and at the mewling quim cowering in the back, she felt a silent rage fill her stomach. Such a petty thing between two sisters, and now one of them was dead, torn to pieces in a desolate wood. She knew Geralt could not let the monster strike her down in such a manner, but she just couldn't let Margit escape consequence. She just couldn't. As Geralt gripped his sword tightly, and Niellen bared his teeth, Philippa decided to step in, literally - moving herself between Geralt and Niellen. Geralt's eyes widened at her action, brazenly facing a werewolf.

"Philippa, step away!" Geralt barked, but Philippa ignored him, looking Niellen in the face.

"We can't let you kill Margrit." She reiterated.

"She turned me into a murderer!" Niellen growled.

"No. You were just the tool. She's the murderer." Philippa insisted.

"More the reason to kill her!"

"I said we can't let you kill her...but I never said she wouldn't be punished."

Philippa suddenly spun around, shooting a spell from her hand over Geralt's shoulder, striking Margrit in the chest. The young woman's eyes went wide, but she didn't move. In fact, she couldn't.

"W-what did you do to me?" Margrit panicked, face confused and scared. 

"Basic paralysis spell." Philippa offered simply. "Can't have you doing something silly like making a run for it.

"Philippa, what is this?" Geralt asked, confusion evident on his face. Philippa ignored him, and spoke directly to Niellen.

"You know I've always been sub par at memory magic." She explained. "It's a difficult field that very few have mastered. One miscalculation and you can simply - erase someone. That's what I offer you. If you kill her, you'd just be the mindless monster that killed your wife. I can offer you justice of a kind. I'll wipe her of herself; he memories, her personhood, her very being/ She'd simple be a blank slate for you to...do as you will"

Philippa let the implication hang in the air.

Niellen began to consider. He lowered his claws, and stood there thinking.

"That won't bring Hanna back." He said quietly after a moment. Philippa gave him a bit of a sympathetic smile.

"No. Nothing will. But I can guarantee you that the woman who led her to her death will be GONE."

Margrit's eyes looked back and forth in sheer terror.

"W-wait!" She begged. "You can't do this, please! You can't do this to me! Witcher, you can't sit there and allow this. Y-you fight monsters right? Stop them!"

Geralt looked at the pleading woman, and couldn't find it in himself to have sympathy for her. She led an innocent woman to her death - her own sister. Turned an already tortured man into a killer, robbing him of his wife and his peace.She wasted their time, lied to their faces to hide her own guilt. And now here she was begging him to raise his sword against the man she supposedly loved.

"I deal with monsters of all kinds." Geralt simply stated. His meaning was clear. Philippa looked at Niellen, waiting for his response. The Werewolf looked at the ground and let out a weary breath.

"Do it." He said.

"NO! NO! It's not fair! It's not right!" Margrit yelled as Philippa turned to her and placed her hand on the girl's forehead. Margrit tried to wrench her head back, but the paralysis spell made sure she didn't get far. "You can't do this to me!"

"You did this to yourself." Philippa countered, before saying the spell " czysta karta"

Her hand glowed a pale yellow against Margrit's skin. The girl let out a least scream, before her face went completely slack, eyes rolling into her head. Margrit was being stripped away.

Philippa held her hand to her head for several more seconds, before pulling back.Margrit fell down to her knees, head slumped forward. After a moment, she lifted her head, blinking rapidly. She looked around at the Witcher, the Werewolf, and The Sorceress without a hint of fear. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know what she was. She knelt there, blank as a newborn.

"It's done." Niellen said. He moved toward Margrit and picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder. She didn't fight him or even respond to being lifted. "I'll...be leaving now. I cannot return to Blackborough, not to the home of me wife. Go to my house, take what you will. It has no meaning to me anymore.

With that, he bounded out the cave, taking Margrit with him.Geralt watched them go, unsure of how to feel.

"Maybe it would've been better to kill him. Or let him complete his revenge." Geralt said after a moment. "Might've been more merciful that way."

"Mercy doesn't exist in Velen." Philippa said. Geralt couldn't argue with her there. "Come on. Let's go get our payment.

________________________________________________________________________

Niellen had a bit of gold and supplies in his house, more to make up for what they had lost to the Nekkers. They also had a free bed for the night, and after the day they had, Philippa needed it. She sat on the small bed, contemplating.

"What is it?" Gerlat asked, taking notice.

"Nothing." Philippa said, a bit curtly.

"You've lost your touch, because I don't believe that lie one bit." Geralt snorted. Philippa frowned at him a moment, and then sighed.

"I was useless there." Philippa mumbled. "All my magic was useless - nearly became a snack of a werewolf." 

Philippa tucked her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Geralt sat next to her on the bed, placing his hand on one of her knees.

"I wouldn't have let anything happen." He said.

"That isn't the point, you ass!" Philippa said, throwing her arms in the air. "I'm a witch of hundreds of years experience! And I all that was nearly ended by some fucking beast!"

Geralt watched her frustration, and tried not to smile. She didn't very much appreciate that. 

"And what the fuck are you smiling at?" She demanded.

"Nothing - just nice to know I have job security." He responded. Philippa threw a pillow at him, which he dodged easily. "Withcering is a tailored business, Philippa. Do you think we'd exist if people could just send out mages and sorceresses to clear out monsters. You wouldn't know where to start. I was made for this - changed for it. Took me years to get as good as I am, and I was pretty piss poor to start. I don't expect you to know what you're doing." 

Philippa wanted to snap at him, but she considered his words 

"We're you really bad at it in the beginning?" She asked. Geralt snorted laughter.

"My first official contract was against a succubus, I had been looking for work for 2 months, and took the first contract I could get." Geralt explained. "I found her easily enough, but her...wiles got the best of me. Long story short, I woke up the next day stripped down to my bare ass, all my gear gone, on top of some poor man's farm house scaring the blazes out of his 3 kids."

Philippa covered her mouth to try and hide her laughter, before quickly caving and laughing out loud.

"Oh, funny is that?" Geralt threatened playfully. He pushed Philippa onto her back, and pinned her wrist to the side of her head.

"You smell like a wet dog." She said, smile still on her face.

"So do you, but you don't see me complaining." He responded before capturing her lips in a kiss. He pulled back to look at her with a smirk."

"We'll make a Witcher of you yet."