Wolves and Tigers (Eternalfire61 X LunaValentine)

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Eternalfire61

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On the outskirts of Vizima was a village known as Barholst, a small hamlet of short comings and overbearing people. Barholst used to be considered a trading must for merchants, until the mysterious disappearance of Elder John Tilk, a wealthy trader known for his swift tongue in trade and in... other places. His wife Charlotte Tilk, was a bountiful woman with many needs that were able to be suited by John. When John disappeared Charlotte killed herself after the search was given up for him. John was a kind man with many ambitions, yet he was always off somewhere else. Some assumed that John disappeared by not making a deal, or that he was mugged. His wife never thought so, but she is not alive now to be able to help the cause to find him. Soon an mercenary would come through just in time to be able to solve this mystery, except it wasn't just a mercenary. It was Geralt of Rivia, the While Wolf....​
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Geralt awoke on the side of the rode with mud on his shirt, and a knife by his head. This wasn't the worst conditions he had ever woken up to, but it wasn't as good as waking up with a woman by his side. The rode was coarse and was not paved, the air smelled of wheat and grain along with sweat and blood. Geralt wasn't in the backwash of Vizima anymore, he was somewhere calm and quiet. With a crack of his neck, he stood up and wiped the mud from his shirt and dug his feet into the ground. Geralt looked down and saw that he had shorts on but his boots were missing. He deduced that some prick either mugged him or he had amnesia. One way or another he was angry. Geralt picked the knife up from the ground and slipped it into one of his pant loops, which was small enough to hold the handle. After looking around he noticed a sign that said "to Barholst." Geralt got a move on and walked toward the hamlet. Ten or so minutes later he arrived at a alright looking village with some people going in and out of it.
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(Your character has lived here for most of her life, or her whole life. There are four sects to the city itself. The market sect, the housing sect, the farming sect, and the royal sect (which is more like officials.) Since I want this to be interactive you get to make the city based on how your character is. If it is a lively city, go for it. If the city you depict is slowly declining, I don't care. Everything about this town is made up, the things you dont control is the main story line, Foltest's army and other characters who are based within the storyline. If there are people you know within Barholst then talk to them as if you know them. Otherwise have fun!​
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Mariland gave a soft sigh as she walked through the Market, things weren't going as well as they used to and it was clear by the few empty stalls. With a sigh she walked up to an old friend of hers, a baker by the name of Territh.

"Territh! Have any good rolls this morning?" she asked.

"Yes but only if you say please!" he teased, he'd had his eye on her for some time and tried every day to woo her.

"Please Territh, I came to buy my rolls." she replied with a gentle smile.

"That smile of yours is almost enough to hide your feisty nature!" he laughed at her.

With a sigh she reached across the stall and slapped the back of his head, she was rather tall for a woman and was fairly strong too. Everyone knew she was an only child and many in the town guessed that because of this her father taught her swordplay. He was once a great swordsman himself, even considered joining the army of the king. She had the skills but generally lacked social graces for a woman of her young age.

"You'll never find another man than me that way!" he chided as he exchanged her Orens for Rolls.

"Who says I want to settle?" she retorted as she quickly turned away and headed to her next stop.
 
Geralt made his way to the front gate and saw two guards standing at post. One of them was tall and skinny, while the other one looked pudgy and grumpy. They both held pole-arms with one hand and had their other hand at their side. As he approached them one of them set their pole-arm in front of Geralt and the other followed. "Halt, state your business or go away." Geralt growled and cracked his back. "I am Geralt of Rivia, I am here on Witcher business", Geralt replied. The tall one looked at the other and quickly pulled away his pole-arm and so did the other. As Geralt walked past them he could hear one of them mutter something under his breathe. It was most likely some racist or derogatory toward him, but he didn't care. All of his money was gone, he was pissed, and was missing his clothes. Geralt slowly walked until he got to the marketplace. He had gotten a couple of looks from the townsfolk, but he knew it would happen. There were a couple of shops that had clothing but he needed some gear. There was a small shack with the sign "Leather workings and Antiquities." Geralt opened the door and struck a deal with the man for some clothes. He had to deliver something to a young woman named Mariland. After he was given the gift, he continued on to find the girl.
 
Mariland sighed as she pushed her golden hair out of her eyes. "Let's see.....got some rolls for father.....should probably go see if my training gear is ready..." she mumbled, "Can't believe I busted that strap climbing that tree." She started towards Arle's shop when she got distracted by fresh produce that had just been put out.

She looked at the crops trying to decide what she could use, after all she planned on taking a few days and going hiking to see what she could find. The disappearance of Elder John had her more curious to venture.

Arle had mentioned to Geralt that she wasn't hard to find, being taller than average with her golden hair made her a bit of a sore thumb.
 
Geralt continued down the road getting several looks from a variety of people. He looked decent enough to be out but it wasn't like his usual attire. Without his silver sword he would not be able to slay the monsters of this area, and since he didn't have that he didn't have the means to get gold. This job that he was doing would help but it wouldn't last since he had to track down the assassin.

His walk continued until he came to a small pub by the intersection between the market sect and the royal sect. There were a couple patrons outside sipping beer or eating some bread. It seemed quiet enough for Geralt to find work and maybe make some orens. Geralt opened the oak door and walked inside. The dim lighting and quiet atmosphere was just what he had wished for. He made his way to the counter where a skinny man with a goatee. The man set a cloth down on the table and rubbed it down looking at Geralt peculiarly. Geralt sat down and rested his arms the on the table. "I'm looking for work, is there anything I can help with?" The bartender set a small envelope on the table with a one of the seals of a local royal. Geralt opened it and read over it. The contract stated that during the next week this person contracted would protect a royal named Fredrick Dunken, a rising merchant that is supposed to be taking the place of John Tilk. Geralt nodded and shook the bartender's hand and walked out of the pub.

Geralt looked around and started to make his way toward the royal's house.
 
Mariland snapped from her daze suddenly. "Oh right! Training gear!" she muttered to herself before hurrying off.

She soon reached Arle's shop and walked in. "Arle! Is my gear ready?" she called the moment she stepped in the door.

"Ah maril! You just missed it! I sent a man out to deliver it to you!" he said cheerfully.

"You WHAT?!" she cried out, her sweet personality melting instantly into a short tempered girl, "You KNOW I hate people touching my stuff! GREAT! Now I've gotta go hunt it all down! You KNOW how valuable that gear is! WHO did you give it to?!" at this point she had grabbed Arle and held him off the ground slightly, struggling as she was using her left hand.

"A new guy in town. He needed some gear himself so I made a deal!" he said struggling a bit.

Mariland sighed angrily and dropped him. "I need a NAME Arle. And you sure as Hell aren't being paid!"

"Didn't ask. he's got white hair and gold eyes! I'm sorry!" he said slightly afraid of the angered amazon-like woman in front of him.

Without another word she marched out and headed for home. Her plan was simple, get into her adventuring gear and hunt down whoever had her lighter armor. Arle shook himself and sighed, it was rare she acted like that in town but those who knew her knew she had that fighting spirit hiding behind her gentle face and voice.
 
Geralt kept walking until he came to a T in the road. He didn't know the town so well so he went to the right. The path lead to a couple of small cottages with a couple people standing outside. Was this the royal part of the town? Geralt moved to one of the old ladies who was wearing a long brown dress and had her grey hair in a bun. The woman gave him a soul crushing stare as he approached her. "What is is it you want, white face?" Geralt shrugged off the insult and continued. "I am looking for the Royal Sect of this town, which way is that?" The old woman scoffed and folded her arms and pointer her head east. "That is the way you must go to do what ever dark work you must do Witcher." Geralt nodded and continued on his way until he was stopped by a house that was almost at the edge between the housing sect and the royal sect. This was where he was to deliver the armor.
 
Mariland marched right past him, shoving him aside. She looked to be quite an angry woman. "Out of my way!" she grumbled as she entered. She hadn't even noticed him holding the armor.

"You're home-" started her father.

"NOT NOW!" she growled, "Someone has my training gear."

Her father stared at her and sighed, knowing just how to change what she was thinking. "You need to calm down sweetheart. You can't just storm around all the time. You know what would help you?A husband!"

"Not this again!" she groaned.

"You never know! Mr. Right might just be behind the door!" he chuckled.
 
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Geralt walked up to the door and lazily knocked on the door. He looked around at the scenery around him. There was a strange feel about this place, everything seemed whole unlike the market place. It was ominous that this was tranquil yet most of the other cities. Vizima was about to be the worst of them all with an assassin on the loose.

Gealt held the equipment out to the person who answered the door. "I was asked to deliver this to Mariland, does she live here?"
 
Her father opened the door. "Ah! Good! Yes she does. You might want to return it to her in person or she might try to hunt you down." he chuckled, "Mar-mar! Your armor has mysteriously walked through the door!"

The tall woman marched out, in what appeared to be a middle class weighted armor. She stared at Geralt, forcing herself to regain her calm, sweet voice. She wasn't about to be rude to someone she didn't know. "Ah! Wonderful!" she said in a voice that seemed higher pitched than would be expected for someone of her stature. She took the armor quickly, "And who might you be sir?"

Her father knew who he was but thought it was funny that his daughter was completely oblivious to who Geralt was. She was struggling to keep herself calm now that she was in her armor. It had that affect on her, she was practically a different person with it on.
 
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