death sentence

Geralt made his way to the fields behind the house, swords attached firmly to his back, if he got coin at the end of this. He wasn't too bothered. And he could certainly use it. He ran past two bushes, similar to the one he'd seen but moments ago, now gathering more White Myrtle petals and a few up ahead gave him more Berbercane fruit. He stopped a few feet ahead, between two thin trees and a patch of grass and muddy grounds, he could see the prints embedded in the mud. He knelt down and examined them. "Boot prints...a man's. Large." He continued on, jogging on for less than a minute until he came upon fresher tracks, he knelt briefly. "Stinks of piss...and vodka" he grumbled. He followed the prints carefully, jogging just to the side of them, eyes fixed on the ground, and it didn't surprise him to see the prints leading back to the main path, the path running past the village. He went off the path, running past a Nilfgaardian soldier, uselessly mumbling something about the emperor and Novigrad, he didn't really care. He went to the shallow waters that rose from the sides of the beachy path, an old wooden row boat stranded on the little bit of beach there was.

The prints even clearer to see now. Especially in the sun. "Took off his boots and went in the water. Probably wanted to cover his trail." And that did happen, he jogged over just in front of the stone bridge to see a wooden chest discarded, no one else as going to use it, he found a fishing rod, a fishing net and six Orens. He still needed to find time to go somewhere to convert them into crowns. He crossed over the path and emerged from the other side of the bridge, it was clear this man had swum, and quite clearly in one direction, if he was to find any clues, it was from nearby. And that he did, not far from where he'd been a moment ago. "Something jumped out of the rushes. Drowners. But he managed to escape. Lost his boots in the rush." He mumbled to himself turning around to see a pair of brown boots laying in the sand, wet with water still, soaked through and the soles and sides covered in sand, his nose twitched as he jogged back into the direction of the path, he was getting closer to the village. He stopped where he was, his eyes scanning the floor. "Bleeding...but not badly. Surface wound" he followed the prints, able to using his Witcher senses. "Tracks lead back to the village" he grumbled, stopping to squat down in front of a Nilfgaardian soldier.

He followed the prints up a side path, until he was in front of the wooden door. He opened the door with one hand, not even thinking to knock. "Trail ends here...but I'll recognise him by his wounds." The Witcher mumbled as he walked inside the spacious hut. He quickly searched the cabinet to his right, nothing interesting, just some water, but still. He took it, if not for himself or to clean wounds he obtained himself, then for Roach in desperate times, he went to the shelf that had fruits and vegetables on, and inky what he gathered to be herbs or spices in bags, perhaps rice or grain. He grabbed a handful of the dried fruit and nuts, water, Redanian lager, a candle, Erveluce and dwarven spirit and moved on. He moved his way around the house, looting boxes and bags at the short presence of people, he obtained alchemists' powder, something he wasn't short on, but still took it, and a black magic doll. He neared the doorway and heard a soft groaning, he went around the corner, his feet slapping against the straw floor of the hut, he wasn't surprised to see a man in a green top with one hand pressed flat against the wall of the room, leaning against it, not looking so well.

"Drowner claw marks. It's gotta be him" he grumbled to himself as he approached the man. The man was groaning and whimpering against the wall but Geralt didn't care, he wasn't there for the welfare of the man. "Nasty wound. Run into a drowner?" He asked ignoring the annoying sounds. "What the fuck do you care?!" The man retorted. Geralt held up his hands in defence. "Whoa. Our arsonist's a charmer, too. Come on. Smith wants to talk to you." The Witcher crossed his arms across his torso, not impressed. "I'll not talk to a nonhuman - sons o' bitches, all. And dwarves're the worst! Greedy little magpies - do anything for gold, they will! Heh, they forge the blades the Black Ones put to our throats! Am I not right?" The man with the badly bandaged arm exclaimed. "Listen. We can work this out man to man. I give you gold, you don't turn me in. My mum died a while back and I sold her tools. I've spent some...but what's left is yours." He offered, Geralt almost wished he didn't survive the drowner attack, it was a surprise he did with that mop of untamed brown hair almost covering his eyes.

"Magpies and dwarves might be greedy, but I'm not. Can't buy me." Geralt grumbled staring at the man, shaking his head. "Then I'll beat your fuckin' mug to a pulp!" Napp growled, raising his hand.

Geralt uncrossed his arms and closed his eyes with a sigh. "calm down. Now follow me" he waved his hand in front of the arsonist and cast Axii on the man who immediately shut his mouth and nodded, dazzled by the sign. Geralt made his way out of the hut, pushing his way past the peasant, knowing he'd follow while he was under Axii, and the fool was stumbling around like he was a grown toddler learning how to walk, or perhaps crawl, in this case. He ran forward. Seeing the familiar notice board from a while ago and took the oath arching to the left, taking another left into the blacksmiths place. Geralt waited for the man to catch up, tapped the side of the man's head. "Up and at 'em!" He grumbled. The man blinked and shook his head, eyelids fluttering as though he were adjusting to the light. "Hm? What...wha-what's goin' on?" He asked with a slight panic in his voice. Geralt held out his hand and waved his hand in front of the arsonist, looking at the dwarf. "Here you go - one village pyromaniac in the flesh." He said to Willis who had his short but thick muscular arms crossed. "Napp? You?! I knew your mum for years, charged her nary a copper! This is how you repay me?! I've had enough. Oi, soldier! A minute of your time, please!" The dwarf called out seeing a guard patrol walking past on the path behind Napp and the Witcher, anger evident in his voice. "No! Willis - I beg you! I- I - I was drunk...di-didn't know what I was doin'!"

Napp pleaded and whined as he looked over his shoulder to see the three guards who had stopped just outside approaching him, with sour looks. "I've told you, Master Willis. We will help you rebuild once reinforcements come. The supplies have been ordered." The soldier at the front told him, the nilfgaardian crest on the armour on his chest, the silver of the helmet extending down to cover his nose and eyes for protection, only a few round eye holes to see out of, the rest of their bodies except their hands all but covered in chainmail or cloth. With weapons hanging off their belts. "Not what this is about, mate. Thus here's the arsonist. The Witcher found him!" Willis replied with his arms still crossed. The soldier took a moment to consider, looking at the man to his right, he wasn't entirely surprised, but he did blink once or twice. "The forge was important to the garrison. Destroying it was sabotage. No trial needed here. Just a tree." The nilfgaardian soldier grunted as the other soldiers flanked the man and blocked his exit, escorting him off the blacksmiths lands.

The dwarven blacksmith turned to look at Geralt. "Villagers'll really love you, now." Geralt replied as he turned to look at Willis. "Well, now I don't give a flyin' fuck about them." Willis replied slyly. "You know, I hated the Black Ones at first, like everybody else did. Now I'm thinkin' they might just being order to this place - teach these layabouts some manners! But enough about that. Your reward" Willis said dropping his arms to the side briefly before bringing them to rest against his torso again, folded. "And...I managed to save some things from the fire. Anvil's still whole, so I'm sure I can hang somethin' out on it. You need anythin', let me know. Give you a good price." The blacksmith told Geralt as the Witcher pocketed the 20 crowns.

Geralt walked over to the makeshift workshop Willis had outside, quickly looking inside where he found and took a couple worn leather pelts, that would likely fetch a good price with some of the merchants.

He returned back to Willis who now just seemed to make crossing his arms a habit of his. "A return customer! Welcome; what can I do for you this time?" He asked in a cheery voice. "like you to forge something for me" Geralt said looking down at the dwarf. Geralt grumbled as he considered dismantling some if his other items he didn't need. He had 225 crowns to spend, and at least he had some Oren's for later. He grabbed one of the two worn leather pelts he owned and gave it to the blacksmith along with 4 crowns, getting one piece of leather scraps in return. He grabbed the fishing rod that he'd found earlier, gave it to the blacksmith too with 3 crown in order for it to be dismantled, it was worth it, one piece of timber and one piece of string could go a long way. He grabbed the fishing net he had too acquired at the same time and sold it for 7 Crowns, getting a piece of Twine added to his belongings. He sold a candle for 2 crowns, receiving wax and more string, the black magic doll for 3 crowns, where the blacksmith dismantled it and gave him back fiber and thread. He'd done dismantling for now, and he needed the 206 crowns he had for something else in mind. He wanted the blacksmith to craft something for him, a piece of chest armour, specifically a warriors leather jacket, much better than the one he wore now, just from the looks of it and the material required he knew it'd be a medium-weight gear, but it increased his armour, and his level of protection, more resistance to piercing damage, bludgeoning damage, slashing damage, damage from monsters and elemental damage, it may way heavier than his current armour, but it was worth it. He'd have to buy some of the materials he was missing, but he didn't mind, so, he already had the Kaer Morhen chest armour needed, he handed over 63 crown for the cured leather component, 16 crowns for one leather scraps, thankfully he needed two but he'd just got one from the dismantling of the pelts, at least he saved 16 Crowns, and spent 24 crowns on buying two lots of wire, the last component needed for the crafting. He gave all the materials to Willis, soon obtaining the warrior's leather jacket, made my the amateur armourer. He nodded. "So long" he said, he was done for now. And was significantly much shorter on crowns than he'd been minutes ago.