Elder Blood Witcher - 752 Bloody Assaul

Roche shakes his head in mirth, “I didn’t, but I feel all with work out in the end, eventually I’ll have to give up this position… The luxuries don’t suit me anyway.” he states.

Hjalmar tilts his head at that, “Wha? You mean you’d prefer to live in mud huts at the side of the road?” he jokes.

Roche “Of course not… Tents would be much more comfortable.” he retorts, causing the others to laugh or pop a smirk.

Tankred “Speaking of mud huts… How’s Skellige doing?” he says with a laugh.

Crach “Better than whatever you’re thinking, and most certainly not livin’ in some fukin’ mud huts.”

Tankred nods, “It was a mere jest Crach, thought, with Nilfgaard attempting to invade you I’d honestly thought you’d be dead by now.” he says.

Hjalmar “That lot? They’re all shaking hands at the bottom of the ocean, Hmph, black ones didn’t stand a chance!”

Roche “You did get help from our mutual friend, you could’ve sent one boat and I don’t doubt it would have been handled.” he states, those in the know nodding at him.

Tankred “I’ve heard the rumors, but passed most of them off as exaggerated wives tales… But, from the sounds of it this “Ichor” is truly a remarkable place.” he mutters.

Roche nods, “Of course, they are the ones who provided all the goods in the Auction House, no regular country could produce artifacts like that, especially in such quantities.” he says, indirectly bragging of Kaedwen’s relationship with Ichor. “I honestly thought Triss would have told you about Ichor, she did spend quite some time there, more than I did at least.” he says, accidentally throwing her under the bus.

Tankred “Hmm, funny, I’ve not heard anything about that particular subject…” he says, glancing at Triss.

Triss feels like torching Roche, but decides to just try and hide herself in her drink… She glances around the room to find something of interest to change the topic but is aggrieved at the barren aesthetics… The only thing separating this place from a dungeon cell are the drink cabinets, tables, and large windows letting in the dim light from the setting sun…

Tankred “Miss Merigold? I’m surprised to hear you have some sort of relationship with Ichor, is there a reason you hadn’t revealed this information to me?” he presses.

Hjalmar “Leave the lass, you keep on and you might scare her off, as well as any friendly relations with Ichor that might come with ‘er.” he says, trying to take the pressure off Triss.

Tankred sighs, “I suppose, but we’ll have to talk about th-”

Stryrdan stands up and places his hand on his hilt, ready to draw his blade at any sign of danger, “What is it Sorceress?”

…

…

They all watch Triss go pale as she stares at the window… She’d caught a glimpse of some sort of cloud that looked unnatural, upon closer inspection and a quietly cast spell that improved her eyesight, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing…

*DANG! DANG! DANG! DANG!*

The sound of the town bell rapidly ringing informs everyone that Ard Carriagh was in danger, the bell only usually being rung during fires or other similar emergencies.

Triss “All of you, prepares yourselves!” she calls, a fire lighting atop her palm as she starves weaving a spell.

Everyone draws their weapons as they spot numerous creatures flying towards the keep, heading for each and every window…

Triss backs up just as a Gargoyle smashes through the window, their heavy stone-like body causes features in the ground beneath them as they land. Their beast-like head turns towards everyone and saliva begins dripping from its mouth…

She finally finishes her spell however, thrusting her palm forwards while chanting in Elder Speech.

*THOOM!*

Red lightning leaves her hand, hitting the Gargoyle in the chesty and scorching the area it hits, as well as knocking the creature right back out the shattered window it’d arrived through.

Triss “Do any of you have silver!?” she quickly asks, wishing Geralt was here.

Hjalmar smirks and stands, wielding his two-handed sword which is suddenly enveloped in dark red flames. “Remind me to thank Geralt again for these.” he says, stepping dropping into a stance as a few more creatures head towards them.

Crach nods, his own longsword bursting into crackling lightning. “Aye, if we survive this that is.”

Two bats fly through the window while transforming into pale humanoid creatures, their faces morphing into a beastly visage as long claws form on their fingertips. “Surrender and we’ll grant you a quick death, mortal!” one growls.

Crach spits at their feet, “Hah! Not likely monster!”

“I’ll suck the marrow from your bones!” one roars, charging at Crach.

Hjalmar swings his sword downwards with lethal intentions, shouting “I’ll give ya’ something to suck on you fuckers!” as he does so.

*CLANK!*

The vampire backhands the weapon, deflecting it away but losing one nail due to its sharpness. Crach isn’t idle and thrusts his longsword at the gut of the vampire, but they back up quicker than expected making his attack miss.

Stryrdan steps forwards to confront the other vampire, readying his sword as Triss begins casting another spell.

The vampire dashes forwards at speed the royal knight captain hadn’t thought possible, he manages to block one claw, but the other cuts a deep wound on his chest, causing him to back up due to the pain.