[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Ancestral Farmstead[/center]
[center]Lvl 3 (12/30) -> Lvl 3 (28/30) -> Lvl 4 (0/40)[/center]
[center]Word Count: 778 words[/center]
[center]Stress Level: 10 [/center]

Something changed just as the Courier's stimpak took effect on Geralt. It was...hard to describe. Something not unlike coming out of a magical trance, but without as much of the hangover half-blackout feeling. More like coming down from a light alcohol buzz. His mind felt sharper, and his body felt like it was his again. [i]Hell of a drug. Almost like he mixed Swallow and Thunderbolt...speaking of which, I need that damned potion if I'm gonna be dealing with beasts like this![/i] Geralt thought, completely unaware of the true reason he felt this way now. He'd probably learn soon enough, though. 

Taking a deep breath as his body was mended and his mind unclouded, Geralt took a look around at the battlefield. So many spirits laying around, and so many fighters still standing. All of them, in fact. It was practically a miracle. Regular folk just didn't last around him in big fights like this, whether they were on his side or not. But then again, he hadn't left alongside many regular folk, had he? These people were fighters, killers, warriors, almost to the last one of 'em. Even the kids could fight like hell. It would have been unnerving had he not seen dozens of pimple-faced teens take to bandrity back on the Continent. Kids could fight. Usually not well, but they could fight. 

Stepping away from their main quarry to gather a few of the farmhands' spirits, Geralt called out after the Courier spoke. "Hmm, wonder how that'd work with Igni...Cadet, was it? You need that thing for anything?" He asked the Ace Cadet, silently hoping he could walk out of this with something, at least. He wasn't totally sure how these spirits worked, not down to the letter, but he [i]did[/i] notice that Linkle had left a trail of ice, and he was pretty damn sure she couldn't do that before. That kind of power....those things were like mutagens. And while he wasn't exactly eager to experiment with these things, he knew how much of a difference the right mutagen could make in a fight. The difference between life and death. 

The big guy and his friends were gathering up, too, Geralt noticed, after Bowser broke off from the fight to protect his son. It was sweet, in a way. He'd dealt with enough monsters to know that plenty of them were just like humans, even if their bodies weren't. Hell, when he first met Emhyr at that damned betrothal, the man looked like some kind of hedgehog! If only he'd stayed that ugly....

Still, it was good to see everybody alive and well, if a bit shaken and wounded. They'd be able to head back to the town, lick their wounds, and maybe Mina would have something good for them in the morning. If only the Brachydios had left something to cook....though the Witcher wondered how good giant lizard-monster meat would taste. How would you even prepare it? 
____________________________________________________________________________

As everybody gathered back into their transportation to return to Lumbridge, Geralt quietly meditated. It was a good way to keep his body somewhat rested, as well as his mind. His breathing was slow, as was his heartbeat. To the casual observer who didn't know better, he might very well have died sitting in this position and just...stuck that way. 

Linkle's question to Euden caught his ear, and Geralt's eyes opened ever so slightly, the red replaced with an amber. Perhaps ironically, removing Galeem's influence had made his eyes look even [i]less[/i] human, rather than more. 

He was interested in how Euden controlled that kind of magic, however. It was impressive, to say the least. That level of raw power, even if he was only able to unleash it for short periods of time, spoke volumes about the boy. He could go far like that. Protect people. Or kill them in droves. It was all up to him, really.

Another thing that had interested him was the Courier's weapons. They made explosions like a bomb, but....they didn't explode? He saw the bright flashes from the end of the weapon as it ripped apart the Brachydios's neck, so it did [i]something[/i], but he wasn't sure what. Was it like a crossbow that launched something with an explosion? That sounded insane, like letting a grapeshot bomb going off in his hand! How it didn't blow the lunatic to pieces was another mystery. 

Still, he couldn't argue with the results. He'd have to ask the man about how they worked at some point. But later. Right now he was tired, and he wanted to at least get some rest while they made their way back.