[sub][i]featuring [@POOHEAD189] and [@Stormflyx][/i][/sub]

After checking the entirety of the stables and making sure that the building was well and truly empty, Morgan returned to the entrance with his brows furrowed. Evidence of the presence of an ornithosaur of some kind was concerning. Cockatrices and basilisks were some of the most dangerous monsters on the Continent and the rest of the party would be vulnerable to their ambush tactics as long as they were unaware. It was important that they were informed as quickly as possible, and then… Morgan needed more information about the beast before he could form a plan of attack. He cast his gaze back into the gloomy depths of the stables for one moment longer, dust motes dancing in the thin rays of sunshine that crept in through broken windows. He wouldn’t find it here.

Morgan stepped out of the stables, eyes searching for Balidvar, and blinked at the sight that greeted him in the courtyard. A man, seemingly an assailant judging by the knife that lay near his corpse, had been dispatched, leather-clad and thin of stature, now lying dead on the mud and straw. So monsters weren’t the only animals that inhabited the keep. Strange, Morgan thought as he approached the king’s bastard, fortunately still alive and well. Such beasts as the one he had sniffed out weren’t known to tolerate the presence of humans in their dwellings. The witcher glanced at Nadia and Renar and wondered briefly who had been the one to kill the vagabond and save their leader from an ignominious demise.

Stepping up to Balidvar, Morgan’s gaze flitted between the warrior and the dead stranger. Another man might have asked something like ‘are you alright?’ or ‘what happened?’ but Morgan simply nodded by way of greeting and cut straight to the chase. “A monster lives here,” he said. “An ornithosaur of some kind. It’s recently been in the stables. I need more evidence to figure out what species exactly. In the meantime, I recommend moving everyone out of the open.” He looked around and narrowed his eyes at the walls. “We should get out of the courtyard as well. The skies are not safe.” 

It was only then that he looked at the corpse again. “Bandits, you reckon?” 

Balidvar, steely eyed gaze sweeping across the courtyard to make sure there were no more surprises, gave a curt nod. “Bandit. A dead one. If it were not for Nadia, he would have gotten me for certain. There could be more in the halls.” He replied, and sheathed his backsword. It was hard to tell if Balidvar had heard him speaking of a monster at the moment, and it was a reminder that it was his father, not Baldivar, that had conscripted the Witchers. 

But after making sure they were not to be ambushed in the open again by a madman, he regarded Morgan. “An ornithosaur?” He echoed, and the implications were dawning on him. He wasn’t an expert on monsters, but he was fairly well read for his age. “You mean the winged, beaked drakes?”

“Correct,” Morgan confirmed. He didn’t like explaining things to people so he hadn’t bothered to tell him what an ornithosaur was, but he was also somewhat surprised when it turned out that Balidvar knew of what he spoke. He had already resigned himself to having to field ignorant questions but apparently that wouldn’t be necessary. “Then you know this isn’t something to be ignored.”

Balidvar had to admit he didn’t know the traits of most ornithosaurs, or how many different types there were. But he wasn’t about to voice that, as he had heard plenty of stories on how they turn people to stone or use their venom to kill them quicker than nearly any snake bite. He was beginning to realize just why the dead man had been so frightened out of his mind. He and whatever companions he had who had sought refuge here were likely hunted, or at least harassed. 

“Fuck,” The bastard said, squaring his jaw. He indicated Morgan should follow him the dozen feet to the gate as he called out to the men he had available. “I need four lads in here what can bear arms! Now!”   

Morgan came with him but he shook his head behind Balidvar’s turned back. Four lads with arms wouldn’t be much help against an adult cockatrice, if that’s what they were dealing with. It took a witcher’s reflexes to stand against the razor-sharp claws and beak of such a vicious, lightning-quick beast. Not to mention the venom many of their kind were capable of fielding. Still, if it made Balidvar feel better, he wasn’t going to comment.

“The Bear needs to know,” Morgan said instead. “The monster could be deeper in the keep, waiting for him.” The conundrum that faced them now, as far as Morgan was concerned, was whether or not it was better to send him to fetch Aidann, or whether he was needed with the rest of the party in case the monster arrived to attack them instead. It felt like a death sentence to send a runner after the other witcher, however, without knowing where the ornithosaur was. 

Fortunately, that was not his call to make. He looked at Balidvar with a hard, expectant gaze. 

From the corner of the courtyard, the back of Avery's neck prickled with the looming sense of urgency that Balidvar was rousing with his voice and command. She let go of the ivy she was holding onto, and made her way into the scene. Winifred was still nowhere to be found, but that was of no concern. Wherever she was, she would be just fine. 

"The Bear?" The sorceress quizzed, crossing her arms over her chest, that was interesting to know. He was of the elusive Bear school and that piece of information was… Disappointing to know. "If he isn't too far I can reach him," she suggested. "But it is your call, Captain," she continued, looking at Balidvar with one of her patented smirks. 

Balidvar knew that look well, raising an eyebrow at her as if he played a chess move in some private game of facial expressions. The situation, referring to the ornithosaur, was definitely not ideal. But this was why he had brought along a retinue of soldiers, two witchers, and a few others capable of handling themselves. 

“You’re right Morgan. Aidenn needs to be informed. He only went forward into the first hall, but judging by your concern, it’s still risky. Avery-” He said, turning to her and pointing at the castle. “If you can get in touch with him and get him out here in the next minute, I’ll give you leave to harvest a few of whatever-the-fucks-in-there parts along with the witchers once it’s slain.”

He knew the sorceress would likely enjoy that, and he considered just what to do next. His first instinct was to venture forth himself, but he was meant to give counsel and lead when necessary, not blindly run into danger. “Morgan, if you think the beast is nearby, I suggest you ready yourself in the proper way. If you need any more herbs, I would ask one of the specialists outside. But I have a feeling you’re well equipped.” 

“Always,” Morgan said, a grim glint in his cat-eyes.

“I can get him quick enough, assuming of course that he wants to be found…” Avery answered, there was something cryptic in the way that she spoke that wasn’t exactly unusual for a sorceress. Her face scrunched ever so slightly as she recalled all of the information she knew of the man, the tone of his voice in the few words she’d heard him utter, the way that he walked, his complete appearance. Her eyes closed as she painted the image, sending her intent to reach him into the atmosphere around them. 

[i]”Aidann...”[/i] The woman had formed his name in her voice in her mind and visualised it in her minds eye finding the Bear wherever her was. Hopefully, the intrusive word of a sorceress in his own mind wouldn’t frighten him too much… If of course they found him. [i]”Return to the courtyard…”[/i] It would be embarrassing for this not to work, she also considered - possibly sending that afterthought to Aidann too. 

The witcher stared without shame at Avery while she worked her telepathic magic. His medallion was trembling with the arcane energies that her spell created and he watched her like a hawk, wary of the slightest adversarial movement. He didn’t trust her. Hell, he didn’t trust any sorceress. Not after what they did to Kaer Seren. But nothing untoward happened and his medallion ceased its restlessness after Avery finished her message for Aidann. He exhaled slowly through his nose and his fists unclenched in his gauntlets. 

“He will return?” he asked Avery pointedly, not bothering with formalities or introductions. 

She may have had her eyes closed, but she could see and feel all of the distrust that Morgan sent her way. It stung, to be so judged, but it was harder still to stand in his poisonous radius. It made her curious as to what exactly it was that made him so hostile. What baggage he was carrying… 

Still, in the face of animosity there was only one defence. [i]”Do hurry. Your good friend Chuckles simply can’t wait to be reunited,”[/i] she sent to the Bear. Unable to hold it, she tittered at her own joke before opening her eyes, flashing a set of scathing daggers of her own at Morgan. “We’ll see.” 

The Griffin’s eyes narrowed at that. Was she amused at his expense? “Typical,” Morgan sneered. “Casting spells without a guarantee of success.” He directed his next words at Balidvar. “Keep her on a short leash, lest she bring the whole keep down on our heads.” 

"Urgh," Avery groaned half-heartedly at him. Her expression never veering too far from a sly grin. "Can't please everyone," she added with a dramatic shrug of her shoulders before flouncing off to a boulder upon which to take a seat. She'd had enough of that pesky one for now. 

Balidvar didn’t say anything at their exchange. Only quietly smirking at Avery’s manner for a brief moment, and then reiterating his thoughts to Morgan. “Believe me, I know. I think Foltest sent her more to test my resolve than anything.” He knew she would hear that too, even if he was joking. He couldn’t help but rile her up every once in awhile. Still, they needed to focus on business. He hoped they could too. He’d heard of the tales of Witchers and Sorceresses ‘getting acquainted’ rather well before. He hoped that didn’t happen here, at least until they were in a secured position. 

“Let me or my Captain know of any help we can give to you and your fellow Witcher. The quicker we kill whatever is in there and clear the castle, the quicker we all have a roof over our heads and beds to sleep in.”  

Morgan thought about that for a second. “Don’t touch anything,” was all he said before he strode off at a brisk pace, returning to the camp being set up outside of the castle gate -- and the fire they’d started. It was time to brew.