[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Lumbridge[/center]
[center]Lvl 4 (0/40) -> Lvl 4 (12/40) -> Lvl 4 (13/40)[/center]
[center]Word Count: 382 words[/center]
[center]Stress Eliminated! [/center]

As the group arrived back in Lumbridge, Geralt took advantage of the crowd's distraction to sneak past everybody before he could get the usual treatment from his adoring fans. What a pain in the ass they were. 

Once he was safely beyond the reach of the....locals...Geralt made sure to find himself a secluded spot where he could get to work. Preparing his small alchemical supplies, Geralt removed the ingredients he'd grabbed earlier that day, carefully measuring and mixing the amounts he'd need for his newest blade oil. While it wouldn't exactly be of much help now that he wasn't planning to actually [i]fight[/i] his original target, he might end up being able to use it against the werewolf that had infected him, assuming they crossed paths. 

What kind of monster did you have to be to willingly inflict that curse against another person? Unforgivable. 

Shaking the thoughts of his original target off, Geralt wondered what he'd gotten himself into. Again. A bunch of dysfunctional hero-types gallavanting around the countryside, taking jobs and valuable rewards. Sure, they also let him join in and get his own share of the pie, but he wasn't certain that made up for it. Realistically, he was more worried about the trouble they'd be getting into, dragging him along because of his sense of camaraderie and duty and all those things a Witcher probably shouldn't be. Ah, well, wasn't much point in [i]not[/i] going along, was there? This place was gonna be barren for a bit, now, anyway.

______________________________________________________________________

Waking up early the next morning from a very strange dream, Geralt quickly made his way to the Guild Hall just in time to catch Bowser and a few of the others asking the Grandmaster about their reward, only for the mysterious leader to ask for proof like he didn't know damn well the thing turned into ash when it died. Thankfully, one of the Big Guy's lackeys bottled the monster's spirit up and dumped the collection out on a nearby table. Removing the spirit of the giant fish monster he'd fought, Geralt left it on the table and looked over the ones there before turning to Bowser. "Got a new one for the pile, boss. Don't want it. Big and slow doesn't really fit my combat style."