Juray examined the corpse on the table, glad that the medic hadn't cremated the victims yet. She'd been able to travel to Oxenfort after obtaining a pass through the blockade over the Pontar River as a reward for helping get to the bottom of the raids on some supply wagons. The soldier had believed her when she brought back the squirrel tails as proof of killing the Scoia'tal attacking the wagons. The first thing she did was find a notice board. In her experience, cities paid well for the monsters in their underworld. Most of the time it was drowners living in the sewers. Sometimes she was lucky to find something more dangerous. This seemed to be one of her lucky Contracts. Both of the bodies still in the morgue bore bites on their necks and not a drop of blood in their bodies. Both also reeked of cheap alcohol. Juray examined the area where the only surviving witness said she'd been attacked and where the medic said the bodies had been found, finding a bracelet that was much too big for a human. She turned the gold bracelet over in her hand.

"Fondness of jewelry, wounds on the victims. Has to be a katakan." She tossed the bracelet back to the ground and stood from her crouch. "Only this one like drunk blood. Only one way to lure him out." She turned and headed back to the tavern she'd spoken to the witness at and made her way to the bar.

"Greetings, Mistress Witcher. What can I do you for?"

"Wanna get drunk off my ass. And it's gotta be cheap wine."

"Trouble with a beau? Beautiful woman like you I'm sure you get all sorts of men trouble."

Juray snorted. A difficult fight with an elder vampire had left her with three long claw scars on her left jaw and neck. She had been lucky that the claws had missed her jugular, but the blood had been too much for him to resist and would have drained her had the Black Blood potion not poisoned him. "I would have said yes thirty years ago, but tonight, it's part of the job."

"I'll need you to pay in advance."

Juray dropped the crowns on the bar. "Just pour and keep it coming."

"What's the occasion?" a male voice asked as the bartender started pouring.

Juray turned her head to see a man with tanned skin, dark hair, and eyes as yellow as hers.

He slid a few crowns towards the bartender. "I'll have what she's having."

"Storm? What are you doing here?"

Stormrider, a Witcher from the Bear School who had earned the name fighting a wyvern during a storm, regarded her with a grin. "I was in town, just finished a Contract."

"Well, I'm on a Contract."

"And you're drinking on the job?"

Juray downed her drink. "Only job on the Continent where I can."

"What are you hunting?"

"Pretty sure it's a katakan that prefers the blood of drunks. All the bodies reeked of cheap wine. And the only survivor said she'd had a drink or five prior to running into the thing."

"How did she survive?"

"Said she ran."

"You know how dangerous these things can be."

"Yeah, I know." She motioned to her scars. "Got my ass handed to me by one."

"And taking one on drunk..."

"It's the only way to lure it out." She turned to Storm. "But if you're that concerned, then stay in the shadows and watch my ass. I'll split the reward with you if you end up having to jump in."

"Fine."

A couple hours later, Juray stumbled out of the tavern. Stormrider had left a little while earlier to wait in the shadows. She headed down the street, planning on going in a circle around the tavern, singing loudly. After finishing the first verse, she still hadn't sensed the vampire. She turned down another street, singing another verse loudly. She was promptly yelled at by a local she'd woken up.

"Oops," she giggled. But she had the katakan's attention now, her so-called curse allowing her to sense it before her medallion. "Come closer, you son of a bitch," she whispered, heading down an alley.

"I sense your blood," the katakan said, Juray's medallion finally warning her of a nearby monster.

"I hoped you would," Juray said, reaching for her silver sword, and missing the first time. She grasped it the second time. "Come out and fight, bitch." She heard a screech then saw two katakans charging at her. "Well, fuck."

She swung directly in between the two, hearing a satisfying shriek. Juray cast Quen on herself before swinging and managing to strike again. The katakan charged at her, knocking her back. Juray flipped head over heels and landed on her stomach, hearing it give another pained shriek.

"This was such a bad idea," she muttered, shaking her head and noticing the vampire had disappeared. "Where the hell did it go?"

"Juray!"

"I'm fine."

Stormrider helped her to her feet. "You can't do this drunk."

"Watch me." She darted off, following the katakan's trail using the heightening hearing that came with being a Witcher.

Stormrider sighed, following after her. They tracked it to a hut near the river. Juray tried the door but found it locked. She went around the hut to find another way in, noticing the ladder at the side.

"I'm really starting to question your sanity at this point," Stormrider commented as she climbed the ladder.

"Are you going to help, or just make comments?"

By the time Stormrider reached the top of the ladder, Juray was dropping down from the top level. She landed on top of the katakan, the vampire giving a shriek of surprise as she drove her sword through its back. Stormrider followed, his silver sword drawn, but by the time he'd landed, the katakan was down and Juray was taking its head.

"I'm impressed. You Wolf School Witchers have a well-earned reputation for getting jobs done. Although I'm sure doing a job drunk off your ass is a first."

"Have you met the others? I'm probably not the first one to do this."

Stormrider chuckled. "You are going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow."

~~~

"Shut up," Juray said to the grinning Stormrider. He dropped the full purse down in front of her. "What's this?"

"Your reward for killing the katakana. I took the trophy to the officer that posted the Contract while you slept it off."

Juray picked up the purse. "No way this is half."

"Because it's not. You did all the work. I only managed to get one hit on it."

"We agreed..."

"To half if I had to step in and help. One hit doesn't count as helping."

"Take something. That does count as helping my drunk ass with it."

"I've got something more valuable for you. I've heard the White Wolf himself is in Velen."

"Geralt? Last I heard he was somewhere in Temeria."

"And you know Temeria doesn't exist anymore. And technically Velen was part of it. From what I heard he's looking for someone. Made some waves in White Orchard with another Witcher, then showed up near the Hanged Tree."

Juray was familiar with Hanged Tree, an overly large oak used by the Nilfgaardians as a gallows. The bodies were still decorating the tree, the locals afraid to cut them down and lay them to rest. Her thoughts then went to Geralt. She hadn't seen him in a while. He'd stopped wintering at Kaer Morhen, opting to be with Yennefer. She'd mourned him upon his death, was overjoyed when he showed back up very much alive, if amnesic. She'd heard from Triss that he'd regained those lost memories.

"There's good money right now in Velen," Juray said.

"I know. The war's got the monsters pretty riled."

"Good luck on the Path, Storm. It was good to see you again. And thank you for the help."

"Maybe we'll run into each other in Velen again. See you, Juray."

~~~

Geralt arrived at the Inn at the Crossroads, a small village southeast of Crow's Perch. It had started raining not too long before his arrival, a combination of cold and wet Geralt wasn't very keen on, as tended to aggravate the old injury to his knee, hip, and elbow. He left Roach outside the inn and went inside. He was greeted by the usual stares, which he ignored, making a beeline to the innkeeper.

"Looking for a man," Geralt said as the innkeeper cleaned a mug. "Goes by Hendrik."

"What do you want with him?"

"Wanna talk to him."

"What about?"

Geralt realized the innkeeper was protecting him and wasn't going to give up where to find him easily, so he tried a different tactic. "Give me a bottle of something strong." He put the crowns on the bar while the innkeeper retrieved a bottle and a glass. Geralt poured himself a drink and threw it back, the strong liquor burning on the way down.

Horses came to a stop outside and the other patrons suddenly decided they needed to be elsewhere. And quickly.

"You gotta go!" The innkeeper said, nearly panicked. "I'll open the back way out for ye!"

"You got company. Who is it?"

Before the innkeeper could answer, several men in the local baron's colors marched in like they owned the place.

"Innkeep!" one shouted. "Vodka!" They all stopped when they saw Geralt, who was standing with his back to them. "Who's this 'un?"

"Brave warrior looks like," another said. "Got two swords, see?"

"Oi, grey boy!"

Geralt gave a sigh.

"What's the point of having two swords, eh?"

Geralt didn't answer, only poured himself another drink.

"Wonder if he keeps an extra prick in his trousers?" a third commented.

"You fucking deaf?" the first man asked. "Gonna say who you are, or do I need to loosen your tongue with me knife."

"How about I buy everyone a round?" Geralt said, turning towards them, noticing the innkeeper seemed to have stopped breathing.

"Why would you?" a fourth asked.

"Got the coin for it. Simple as that."

"I don't drink with strangers," the first informed him.

"We share a round, we won't be strangers anymore. Then we go our separate ways."

"And which way might yours be?"

"On my way to Novigrad." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"City of whores and whoremongers."

The innkeeper set the drinks down in front of the soldiers and Geralt held up his glass.

"To your health. And mine."

"Bottoms up." The men drank and the soldiers turned to each other.

The innkeeper looked relieved that a fight didn't break out. "If you wanna rest, come with me. I have a bench you can use."

Geralt nodded and followed the innkeeper around the corner as the soldiers started talking amongst each other.

Once they were out of earshot, the innkeeper turned to Geralt. "Thanks for not startin' a row with those swine."

"I don't generally poke my nose into other people's business."

"Looking to stay the night?"

"No."

"Ah."

Geralt heard the disappointment in his voice. "I'm looking for Hendrik."

"Man lives in Heatherton."

"Don't know where that is."

"Other side of the hill. Looked that way this morn and saw a strange glow. Imperials on the raid, perhaps, but who knows."

"Anything else you can tell me about Hendrik?"

"Odd fellow. Arrived here from who knows where and for no apparent reason. Shacked up with a widow whose husband was stabbed for a scrap of bread."

"Baron's men don't like strangers."

"Aye, and he stays outta their way. Always seems to know when they're comin', always manages to disappear."

"Thanks, innkeep." Geralt took the other door and headed over to Roach.

More of the Baron's men were harassing the villagers. Geralt used their distraction to ride out of the village without being noticed and headed towards Heatherton.

As he drew closer to the abandoned looking village, Geralt's hackles rose.

"Air's strange...," he thought out loud. "Like dropping into a deep cellar on a hot day."

Roach danced around, feeling that same unease as her rider.

"And the mist..."

Geralt dismounted just as he heard dogs and a man yelling. Following the sound, he saw a man fighting off wild dogs with a torch. Geralt jumped in and dispatched them with his steel sword. He turned towards the man, who swung the torch at him.

"Begone! Leave me be, whoever you is! Get away!" He fell, dropping the torch.

Geralt cast Axii on the man. "Calm down. It's over."

The man relaxed, standing and rubbing his face. "Aye, it's over. All's past, never to be restored. I'll not forget that, ever." He walked over to the well and sat down next to it.

"Looking for a man named Hendrik. Supposed to live in this village."

"Aye, he did. No longer." He motioned towards one of the homes. "They nabbed him in that hut. If you'd of heard the cries, sir... if you'd have heard how a man can scream, how he can suffer." The villager shook his head.

"What happened here? Step by step."

"They took 'em. Took 'em all."

Geralt waited.

"The sun was waning, see? And the dusk went crimson like blood. Thought to meself 'Strange. The toads. I can't hear them.' So I went and looked out me window. There was something foul in the air. The air turned cold and the torches all went out one by one. Then they road in. Riders like nothin' I'd ever seen, all covered in ice. They all stopped in front of Hendrik's hut. I was so afeared that I hid. I know not what happened, save terror through and through. Hendrik screamed, then he begged. By the end, he could do naught but moan."

Geralt recognized who the villager described. "Just wonderful," he muttered.

"Weren't here long, the terrors. Yet the village froze like in the heart of winter."

"You go in the hut when they rode off?"

"No. And I'll not set foot in there. Never."

Geralt nodded. "Peace of mind to you." He turned and headed towards Hendrik's hut. He glanced down to see hoof and footprints and crouched down to examine them to see how many were there. "Traces of ice around the footprints. Really?" He walked into the hut and saw a man's bloodied corpse lying in the middle of the floor. "Tortured him." Geralt searched Hendrik's body for anything the Wild Hunt might have missed. "Trousers' are stiff, as if hung out to dry mid-winter." He rolled him slightly, a key falling out of his boot. Geralt picked it up. "Wonder what this is to."

He stood and searched the rest of the hut, finding a locked trap door. The key fit the lock perfectly and the Witcher descended into the cellar. It was full of foodstuffs and other merchandise a merchant would have sold, along with a missing poster for the Bloody Baron's daughter. As he rounded a corner, one of his swords bumped a candlestick on the wall. He turned to keep the candle from falling, only to notice a wall shelf swing away from the wall, revealing a hidden compartment. "Well, that's interesting." He walked over to the compartment and took out the only thing in it: a book. The book turned out to be a ledger. All the entries seemed to be for what Hendrik was masquerading as until Geralt noticed some interesting headings among the entries.

"Missing and Wanted. Subject appeared in Skellige. Also seen in Novigrad. Appearance unchanged. Ashen hair. Scar on her face. Avoids contact with others." He turned to the heading titled "Drunken Swine". "So-called baron hosted subject at his castle, or should I say, illegally appropriated fort. Reason unknown. Talk to Baron at Crow's Perch. Doesn't sound like he was much of a fan of this baron." Geralt glanced through the headings until he found another odd one, this one titled "Clashed with a Witch". "Subject landed in swamp, encountered a witch. Conflict ensued. Cause unknown. Find the witch. Talk to the peasantry, village of Midcopse." The next heading was "Caution Advised". "I'm being observed. Don't know by whom or why. Unsettling signs. Dog ran off. Water in bucket froze solid. Strange glow observed in sky. Ill omen, peasants say." It was the final entry in the ledger and Geralt closed the book. "Somehow, they learned Hendrik was searching for Ciri, thus the torture. I'm too late. My only leads, the baron and some witch. Damn." He turned and headed towards the ladder. "Midcopse isn't far from here. I'll start there."

~~~

Juray crossed the Pontar back into Velen, fully planning on doing Contracts until she had word of where Geralt was heading. Shadowmount, her pitch-black mare, danced around some children playing in the camp on the other side of the river. Refugees were begging to be let across. Several seemed content to wait, believing themselves safe among the soldiers and Radovid's witch hunters. The Rendarian king hated anything and everything to do with magic and alchemy. Juray was sure Witchers were on that list as well, just tolerated slightly more than mages. The Church of the Eternal Fire had always been a thorn in the side of the people, but in recent years, humans seemed to be flocking to it in droves. Several witch hunters glared at Juray as she rode past them. She knew it was only a matter of time before they started including Witchers in their hunts. Once past the refugees and soldiers, she turned Shadowmount south and urged her into a canter, aiming to find a village with a notice board and gossiping townsfolk.