The night hung heavy around Crows Perch as Geralt stealthily approached the outskirts of the town. The haunting cries of the shrieker echoed through the stillness, signaling its malevolence. Moonlight cast eerie shadows as he navigated the winding path toward the creature's nesting grounds.
Arriving at the designated location, Geralt observed the ominous silhouette of the shrieker against the darkened sky. Its wings, tattered and ominous, loomed over its nest, a grim testament to its predatory nature. The air was thick with tension as Geralt unslung his silver sword, the moonlight glinting off its razor-sharp blade.
The shrieker, aware of Geralt's presence, emitted a bone-chilling screech that sent shivers down the witcher's spine. It took to the air with a flurry of feathers, its beady eyes fixated on Geralt as it circled overhead. The battle was about to commence.
The two adversaries clashed beneath the moonlit canopy, a dance of steel and feathers. The shrieker's attacks were swift and unpredictable, but Geralt's movements were equally agile. The witcher parried and dodged, his experience evident in every calculated move.
As the battle raged on, the townspeople of Crows Perch peered out from their windows, watching in awe as the lone witcher faced the monstrous threat that had plagued their town. The night seemed to hold its breath as the struggle reached its climax.
With a decisive strike, Geralt managed to wound the shrieker, causing it to falter in its airborne assault. Seizing the opportunity, he closed in, striking with precision. The shrieker's final screech pierced the night as it succumbed to its injuries and plummeted to the ground.
Silence settled over the scene as Geralt stood, victorious but solemn. The townspeople, witnessing the demise of the creature that had terrorized them, erupted into relieved cheers. Among them was Chet, the man who had posted the contract, gratitude etched across his face.
Approaching Geralt, Chet handed over the promised reward with a nod of appreciation. "You've done us a great service, witcher. We are in your debt."
Geralt accepted the reward with a nod of acknowledgment. "It's what I do," he replied, his gaze momentarily lingering on the lifeless form of the shrieker. With that, he turned away, disappearing into the night, leaving Crows Perch in the wake of a newfound peace. The echoes of his footsteps faded into the distance as he ventured forth, ever ready to face the next challenge that awaited him in the vast and treacherous world.
YOU ARE READING
Old Love
Adventure"Iris!" Geralt screamed as he saw the purple-haired woman on horseback riding with a few men clad in armor. He whistled for his horse, quickly mounting and riding after them. I lost her once, I won't lose her again.
