[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Land of Adventure[/center]
[center]Lvl 1 (3/10) -> Lvl 1 (5/10)[/center]
[center]Word Count: 778 words[/center]

As Geralt made his way through the forest, he made sure to keep a close eye out for the telltale signs of wolf activity: scat, gnawed bones, tracks and the like. The werewolf's lair wasn't that far away now, so it seemed like here was the best place to really do some searching. Hopefully this werewolf would be like the others he'd dealt with, and an upsurge in local canine activity would accompany the cursed beastman.

His instincts proved correct once more, and Geralt found himself standing over a mostly broken, chewed up leg bone, surveying his surroundings. Picking up the bone, he gave it a sniff, only to sigh as his nose failed him yet again. "Must be something in the air here....damned nose hasn't worked right since I showed up." Abandoning that line of thought, Geralt gave a closer look, finding a few scattered bone chips and pieces that, if you thought about it hard enough, could point vaguely in one direction. Giving a sigh and a shrug, he took off that way, looking again for his temporary quarry.

After a short while, Geralt found his luck held, and he came across a few footprints which led him to a quartet of wolves tearing into a deer. Smirking, the witcher knelt, drew his hand crossbow and took a deep breath. Lining a shot up with the heads of one of the wolves, he left his steel sword laying next to his leg, ready to be picked up once he'd taken his shot.

The sound of a bolt flying through the air halted the wolves' feast as one of the four stumbled and collapsed to the ground in a dazed and dying heap. The remaining three wolves all looked around before one howled and charged, Geralt grabbing his sword and stowing his crossbow. It was time to thin the pack.

As the first wolf leaped at him, Geralt spun to the side, swiping his sword upwards through the air and tearing a massive line through the wolf's stomach and side, causing it to fall over as soon as it landed. The second charging wolf broke off to the side as the third came from the front, taking advantage of their numbers to overwhelm him. It did them no good, however, as Geralt growled and ran directly at the wolf in front of him, swinging his sword in a low arc and severing the right foreleg of the beast, which whimpered as it fell. 

The final wolf looked at the carnage around it, at its fallen packmates, and growled and Geralt before turning tail and sprinting off into the woods, likely to find its way back to its pack and warn them of the danger. It wasn't necessary, Geralt thought, as he cleaned his sword off and walked over to the wolf missing a leg. 

It growled and snapped at him as he came close, and Geralt let out a breath of pity. He preferred clean kills not just because they were easier, but because he genuinely disliked seeing animals in pain. He needed something from this animal, however, so he shook his head and drew his hunting knife while grabbing a hold of the wolf's neck from behind as it tried to adjust to not only the loss of a limb, but the loss of so much blood. 

It took him a little while to skin the wolves, grab enough fat to make a few batches of oil, and even take a few small cuts of meat along, but Geralt found himself at the edge of the trees after a short while, staring at the castle and the relative emptiness surrounding it. As he traveled, he tried to keep an eye out for wolfsbane as well, but he was either looking in the wrong spot, or there was none to be found. It was a shame, but he'd have to worry about it later. His hunch had him wondering if it would be necessary just yet. 

Finally approaching the castle, Geralt narrowed his eyes at the noises he heard and the damage he saw to the castle exterior. Taking a breath, he approached the doors of the castle, deciding to take the direct approach. Werewolves could be reasoned with, just like any other person. 

It just....wasn't always quite as easily said as done. But Geralt wasn't one for taking the easy path when there was a better one available. No, he was as stupid as he was brilliant sometimes. He pounded a fist on the door, calling out to whomever was inside. "Hello? I'm looking to talk. Don't want any more needless bloodshed." 

Yeah....he was stupid, alright.