Inkpot Gods ↠ The Witcher

II. Elves

A/N: THE CHAPTERS WON'T NORMALLY BE THIS LONG! I couldn't find a good place to cut it off, I should have better spaced it with the first chapter before writing this but I was too excited to even think about that and just posted it.

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"Reading between the lines and the gut punches, chum, I'd say you have got a bit of a... an image problem," the bard remarked, continuing to walk alongside them.

At this point the two Witchers were perched on their respective horses as they rode across the land to escape from the physical exertion the sweltering heat of the sun would cause them-the bard was not as lucky.

"Were I to join you on this...feat to defeat the devil of Posada, I could relieve you of that title. All the North would be too busy singing the tales of Geralt of Rivia the-the White Wolf or-or something."

He continued to try and convince them to take them on their journey, not even realising that he had spent the better part of said journey incessantly talking to them about it.

"Butcher is right," Geralt coldly stated, a man of little words.

"Mind if I hop up there with you? It's just I'm not really wearing the right footwear," the bard requested, hands already reaching for Geralt's horse.

"Don't touch Roach."

He immediately pulled his hands away while mumbling to himself, downtrodden for a moment before glancing at Thalia with a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eyes. She didn't even have to look at him to know he was going to ask her the exact same thing.

"Don't even think about it," Thalia sharply said, refusing to let him anywhere near Grass.

The names for both horses weren't typical by any means and Thalia put little effort into the name. In fact, she had named her horse Grass simply because when she first saw her the mare was bowed down and chewing on some grass.

The bard's request would have been futile anyway as seconds later the two Witchers effortlessly climbed off their horses when they reached a clearing amongst the tall grass that was taller than even Geralt, the tops of mountains peeking out across the horizon. It looked like a complete wasteland, the grass dry and crunchy beneath their feet.

"The elves called this Dol Blathanna before bequeathing it to the humans and retreating into their golden palaces in the mountains. There I go again, just delivering exposition." The bard was easily far more talkative than both the Witchers combined, Thalia thought he'd probably even enjoy conversing with a rat the same amount. "Geralt? Other one?"

"Thalia," she finally whispered, finding it more annoying that he didn't know her name.

"Thalia, wh-where are you going?" He asked, finally able to use her name. "Don't leave me."

The Witcher's didn't respond, simply walking ahead and towards a rock formation. They stayed close to the wall so as not to be seen by any people that could potentially be there, trying to be as quiet as possible despite the constant talking of the bard.

"Hello? What are we looking for again?"

"Blessed silence," Geralt sent a not so subtle jab his way.

"Won't find that with him around," Thalia said under her breath.

"Yeah I don't really go for that. Have you ever hunted a devil before?"

"Devil's don't exist," he repeated what was said in the tavern.

"Right. Obviously. Then uh then what are we doing?"