(Collab with [@BlackSam3091]) 

After weeks of travel on the crowded roads, Kieran and Fridolf caught sight of the free city of Telchar, the wind beating against their cloaks as the rain poured from the murky grey sky. Kieran had wrapped himself in his black travelling cloak, and his black cloth scarf wrapped around his neck and mouth. It hid the silver bear medallion that hung against his chest, while the telltale cat-like eyes of a Witcher were hidden by the glamour he possessed, which took the form of a silver crescent belt buckle. 

The glamour had been costly, and Kieran had to give up a month's worth of pay from contracts to a travelling enchanter for it. As such Fridolf and he had spent many nights under the stars instead of an inn, drinking water and ale and eating hard bread and whatever they could catch or gather instead of fine food and wine. It wasn't so bad until the storm had rolled in the past few days. Kieran did not much mind the downpour or the more humble vittles, but Fridolf was another matter and it took every ounce of Kieran's Witcher discipline to block out his friend's curses and complaining. Thankfully, they still had enough coin squirrelled away to stay at an inn for at least a few nights, and Kieran had little doubt that they could find more money in the city, despite the costliness of the glamour and the need to disguise himself. 

But such concealment was wholly necessary, for the City of Telchar disdained magic in general and Witchers specifically and vehemently. Kieran was proud to be a Witcher. But not so much that he would risk burning to death for it. He had a job to do, and he was resolved to see it through, no matter how long it took. News of Jaspar's death had shocked Kieran, and he had rode post haste to the city to right the wrong of his comrade's death and put an end to the killings that had wracked the city. 

Kieran had quite a bit of work set out for him. He had to get a look at the bodies, examine the attack scenes. Identify the beast, track it. And kill it. If indeed it was a beast. It could have been a serial killer, though the need for Jaspar to investigate in the first place implied otherwise. In any case, Kieran would put a stop to it. He had to. The young Witcher found his swords, strapped to his hips instead of his back. The steel and silver tools of his trade. He wasn't used to the position, but that was another neccesity, else the guards recognize him as a Witcher. As it was, he simply looked like a hedge knight or sellsword who was fond of carrying two swords. Whatever the killer was, Kieran would be ready for it. 

He looked at the walled city, with it's stunning castle on a hill, sprawling buildings, and proximity to the sea and knew it was one of the most magnificent sights he had ever witnessed, even as the storm pounded on it. The city was far older than him, and would exist long after Kieran was gone, even with his extended lifespan. It was a grand testimony, in construction at least, to the potential of humanity. 

If only the inhabitants of the city were as forward thinking as the architects had been. 

Still Kieran smiled, grinning ear to ear and petting Storm, [color=gold]"Good girl. We'll get you out of this soon enough and into a stable, with a nice apple."[/color] The Witcher-trained horse was used to the rigors of the wildnerness, but Kieran thought it was only proper to compensate his companion and friend for the rougher weeks they had recently spent on the road, and reward her for her steadfastness throughout them. 

As the city gates came into view, and they slowly rode on the muddy road next to clusters of people, animals, and carts entering and exiting the city, Kieran turned his head to look at Fridolf, [color=gold]"Magnificent isn't it? Have you ever been here before? Know what it's like in the city?"[/color] 

Fridolf started suddenly at Kieran's question, his attentions momentarily diverting themselves from the path in front of them. This momentary distraction was all Flo, Fridolf's contrary-natured mare, needed to start causing a fuss. Without skipping a beat she reared up onto hindlegs, whinnying loudly as she fought to shrug her rider out of his saddle. The con-man snatched feebly at the saddlehorn, but it was too little, too late. With a high-pitch squawk, he tumbled gracelessly from his seat, somehow managing to twist bodily mid-air, before dropping face first onto the churned mud of the road.

Manfully stifling a sob, he went to push himself upright, but to his horror just sank deeper into the murk. For a terrifying heartbeat he thought that he might just die there, suffocating in the dirt and shit outside of Telchar. Panic added strength to his limbs, and with a cry he managed to fight his way clear, pushing himself to his knees. With the back of his grubby forearm he tried to wipe the worst of the muck from his face and eye's, but something told him it was a losing battle. He'd need at least two baths to shed the filth that now plastered him like thick icing. Flo stood facing him from a few feet away. She was wearing a decidedly smug look. Fridolf hadn't even known horses could look smug before he met Flo. Gods, he hated that horse.

Kieran had almost jumped out of the saddle, thinking Fridolf was injured, but he soon realized he was fine and simply warring with his mount once more. Kieran's concern turned to amusement, and he fought to stifle a laugh. 

[color=steelblue]"Try not to look to pleased with yourself,"[/color] He growled to the horrible herbivore, [color=steelblue]"Soon as we get to the city, I'm selling you to a butchers."[/color] Flo didn't seem all that intimidated though, responding to his threats by raising her tail and farting lazily.

[color=steelblue]"You just see if I bloody don't!"[/color] The criminal muttered to himself as he marched ungainly through the sludge, and hauled himself back into the saddle. Now that she'd throughly embarrased and defaced her owner, Flo seemed satisfied to settle back into the unsteady, disdainful truce that usually coloured their relationship, though no doubt she was already planning her next attack. Fridolf would just have to endevour to be more ready for her next time.

All of Kieran's Witcher training was barely enough to contain the young man's laughter at the sight. As it was, he fought to hide his amused grin as Fridolf wrestled his way back into the saddle. Charming con artist Fridolf may have been, but forrester he was not. 

After brushing the worst of the grime from his clothes, he settled himself more comfortably before turning his attention's to Kieran.

[color=Steelblue]"That was your fault, by the way. She plays up in front of you. She was far less ornery before I met you. A paragon of virtue, in fact, compared to her behavior now. I think you're a bad influence."[/color] Which was all blatently untrue. Flo had been a bad-natured bitch ever since he'd had the misfortune of winning her in a rigged card game, but Kieran didn't need to know that. Fridolf's pleasures had become few and far between recently, and so he had learned to find his jollies wherever he could. One of his favourite passtimes was attempting to get the ever-honourable Bastard Bear to feel righteous guilt over horrible deeds that he actually had fuck all to do with. Just last week he'd managed to convince Kieran that it was his fault that all Fridolf's socks had holes in them. Juvenile, but fun.

Kieran's brow furrowed in thought, [color=gold], "Hmm. She might still  unused to the presence of a Witcher. Animals have been known to react poorly around us on occasion. Flo could be particularly senstive. I apologize if that is the case, Fridolf. At least the rain will wash some off." [/color]

[color=steelblue]"Ach, I'm bloody drenched. . .  And cold. . .  And hungry, now that I think about it. If only [i]someone[/i] hadn't wasted all our money on an overpriced glamour - instead of just wrapping a black cloth around his face like I'd suggested - then maybe we could have purchased some proper vittles at the last village, and I wouldn't be in danger of starving to death."[/color] Calling the money their's was being generous in Fridolf's favour, as he hadn't actually contributed anything to the communal pot, but he didn't like to let facts like that get  in the way of a good gripe. 

Kieran frowned, [color=gold] "Too risky. This city is no friend to either of our kind, Fridolf. I couldn't chance someone catching a look at my eyes and reporting me to the guards. They'd burn us both at the stake. Worth missing a few hot meals to avoid that, if you ask me,"[/color] He smiled at Fridolf, [color=gold] "Besides, I'm sure we can make some money in the city. Should be all kinds of beasts lurking around." [/color]

While Fridolf had been complaing, the two companions had happened upon the Common's Gate, where they were forced to wait in a que of traffic before entering the city limits. The train of wagons, merchants, tinkers and travellers moved slowly, as it appeared they were all being stopped and questioned by the squadron of city guards postioned at gates. As the two neared the checkpoint, it became apparent that the guardsmen were soliciting a toll from all entrees. Fridolf clucked in annoyance, as at that moment he wanted nothing more than a warm bath, a hot meal, and a cold drink, and this diversion was hindering him in his pursuit of those things. Still, nothing else for it. This was how civilisation worked. Taxes everywhere.

The two riders were the next in line when the con-man turned to his companion [color=steelblue]"Would you like the honor of dealing with these [i]gentlemen[/i],"[/color] He gestured at the guardsmen, [color=steelblue]"Or shall I do the necessaries?"[/color]

Kieran shook his head, [color=gold] "Better for me to interact with the guards as little as possible. And we don't have much coin left.' [/color] Kieran grinned at Fridolf, [color=gold] "This is your area of expertise, my friend, you should have the honors." [/color]

Fridolf returned the grin, though there was something slightly predatory about the bent of his features. 

[color=Steelblue]"Oh, I have very little in the way of honour, good sirrah, as shall no doubt soon become apparent."[/color] 

The grifter cracked his long fingers, made a last attempt at cleanliness - he still looked a state, but there was nothing else for it now - then dug a tightly rolled scroll, stamped with a purple waxed seal featuring a proud griffin with wings outstretched, from his saddlebag.

Fridolf's criminal ways had always been a concern to Kieran, but perhaps now they could be put to good use. Kieran simply sat straight up in the saddle and watched his friend at work.