The Witcher One Shots

Even Witchers Need Help Sometimes (Action) (Insert Reader)

A/N: This one shot doesn't really have any romance or anything, I just wanted to write a sword fight so... Enjoy!

You were riding on your horse, Rufus, toward a city so you could rest for a night, and continue on your way to Drakenborg, where you're supposed to meet a blacksmith for a sword engraved with Elder Speech the blacksmith made for you, by your request. The sun was setting, as you got off your horse to walk him the rest of the way to the city. You watch as the townsfolk light torches outside of their homes and hang them on the metal supports. You walk into the Chainmail Tavern and Inn. As you approach, you tie Rufus up to a wooden beam, allowing you to go into the Tavern. You step up the cobblestone steps to the dark wooden door, dimly lit by a torch. You swing the door open and strip your black cloak off your back, revealing an off-white blouse, brown trousers, and your greatsword sheath and leather boots. You go straight to the bar.

"I'll take an ale, thank you." You say to the tender.

You sit on a stool and wait for your drink to be handed to you, giving you a perfect view of the tavern, you can see the bard, a brunette man, wearing a nice white coat, not rich, but not a peasant either, well off, he holds an Elven Lute, rare, either killed or bargained with an elf, he looks up at you for a split second before looking back down, tuning his lute, you turn your head, scanning the rest of the Tavern, you see a rather tall man flirting with a woman in the corner, the woman clearly not interested, but enjoying leading him on, this spot is a perfect vantage point to see the door. You can see whoever comes in and out, by simply looking over your shoulder, which has become a second nature ever since you've hit the road. The tender of the bar hands you a tankard of ale, as you watch the door closely. You spin around to the bar, and sip your ale, before you see a tall man, in all black, that man is rich. Black dye is rare, and expensive, let alone purchasing a lot of it, or an outfit entirely black. The man also white haired and yellow eyed walks in. He has a wolf pendant around his neck, that catches your eye, a Witcher pendant. So, he's a Witcher, no wonder he can afford the black, he works for coin and only coin.

"The White Wolf," You hum.

The Witcher walks toward the bar, sits next to you, and asks for an ale, in a dark graveling voice.

"So, you're a Witcher?" You say as you lower your tankard from your mouth.

"Yes." He says blankly.

You look at him, as he looks toward the bartender, and gets handed his ale.

"Oh, chatty." Your snark irritates the Witcher.

He grunts, clearly annoyed by your remark.

"Sorry." You sip your ale.

You look at his sword, the hilt is angled, in the shape of a V, this sword is silver, you can tell by its shine. Silver reflects more than any other metal, and it looks perfectly clean, which is more than you can say for your iron sword, rusting, and the hilt is bending.

"Killing monsters?" You ask.

The Witcher looks at you and nods, "Stop asking questions."

Your eyes flick orange from the torch light as you look at this grimy, tall, and tired Witcher. You notice a cut on his forehead, hidden behind his messy hair.

"You're bleeding. You might want to clean that up before someone suspects you, Butcher of Blaviken." You tell him, before moving to a different area of this tavern.

He touches his cut, and the blood rubs onto his fingers before he wipes it away with the back of his hand.

~~~