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The tavern, as always, is alive with people. Most of them are already drunk before noon, others are just there to take a breath. Then there's the over-enthusiastic bard that moves around the room, lute in his hands. His life was in his hands, to play, to entertain. That's all the young bard could really ask for in his life, that and his friend, who sits in the corner by himself. His friend is well known though he doesn't like to talk about it.
Strumming the chords of his lute, the bard moves about the room. "When a humble bard, graced the ride-along, with Geralt of Rivia, along came this song." He sings, his voice overcoming the conversations of everyone in the tavern. His friend, the same Geralt from the song, watches him with no expression. A few of the people in the bar had been giving him looks since he got there. He was well aware of them when they'd glance over at him, whisper about him to each other.
His amber eyes, almost golden, watch out for any sign of danger. Though a Tavern in a well-known town is the last place that anyone thought danger would be you never know. Geralt's cautious, he has to be, he's practically programmed to be. He finds himself watching the bard once more as he goes on with the song. He had come up with it all by himself, about Geralt and their journey. Geralt caught the eye of a man sitting on the other side of the tavern, watching as he quickly turns away from who was no doubt the apex predator in the whole town.
The doors to the tavern open a man comes stumbling in. He's panting, nearly tripping as he hurries up to speak with the bartender behind the counter. "Toss a coin to your Witcher, O' Valley of Plenty, O' Valley of Plenty. Toss a coin to Your Witcher, O' Valley of Plenty." The bard dances around the room, clearly in his own zone, not holding a care in the world about anyone else in the room as he goes on with his little Ballard.
Geralt's eyes are stuck on the man who had just entered now, focusing in on him. "It got her." He pants. "The beast, it got Mary." That caught the Witcher's attention, making him lean forward in his seat a bit. "Chased me through the forest, nearly ate me in a clearing."
The bartender cocks his head in clear confusion. "How did you get away?" He crosses his arms, glancing from the man to the bard as he stands on a table. "Oi you best get off my table or you'll be thrown out!" He yells, startling the young bard a bit, but he moves off and keeps on with his song. "Now, how did you get away if it was going to eat you as you claim?"
The man glances around the room, prompting Geralt to turn away, making himself look preoccupied with something. The man's eyes linger on him for a moment before looking back at the bartender and taking in a shaky breath. "The Phantom." The room fell deadly quiet at that, the only sound was the bard going on until Geralt hits him, having already stood up from his seat.
The bard looks at his friend in confusion as he walks past him. "You're so full of shit." The bartender says, most of the room agreeing with him. "The Phantom's not real." He pours someone another drink, shooting a look to the man. Geralt walks up to the bar, taking a seat next to the man. "What's say, you Witcher?" The bartender questions.
Geralt doesn't say anything until the bard comes running over, sitting on the other side of Geralt. "Jaskier." Geralt warned, turning and looking at the bartender. "Never seen the Phantom." He admits and the bartender smirks at the man before walking off, the room resuming its normal chatter.
Jaskier leans over the counter, looking at the man. "You've seen the Phantom?" He questions, ignoring the look that Geralt gives him for questioning the man. "I'm curious." He adds, making the man look up from the cup that was placed before him. Jaskier holds the look of wonder on his face, waiting to hear about the myth that even he was told when he was younger. Geralt on the other hand, didn't seem to believe in the myth, he's been all over the continent by now and has never seen them, why start now?
The man nods nevertheless, meeting Jaskier's eyes. "Aye." His voice is heavy with grief and sorrow. "The werewolf was after me, fresh off of eating Mary." He looks down at his cup for another moment before letting out a sigh. "They came out of nowhere. Cutting the wolf before it tore into me. Killed the beast. I saw the eyes." Jaskier leans over even more, almost leaning over Gealt to listen to the man. "White as snow with a black pupil, something out of a damn nightmare." His hands hold the cup tight, knuckles slowly turning white. "Their face was black as night, some kind of patterns were on it. I was lucky to get away with my life."
Jaskier's jaw almost hits the floor in amazement, the young bard was easy to impress. "Wow." The man turns away from Jaskier and Geralt lets out a low hum. "Geralt what do think now?" Geralt drinks from his cup while Jaskier stares at him, eagerly awaiting his answer. He sets the cup on the counter before standing up once more.
Jaskier follows him without hesitation, like a lost puppy. "I think there's a wolf in the woods. It's what we were brought in for, not a ghost story Jaskier." The bard frowns, trailing after Geralt as he walks out of the tavern and to Geralt's horse, Roach. Geralt pats the animal's snout before mounting her and starting the slow ride to the woods, Jaskier walking beside him.
Paranoia practically drips off of the bard. "What if the man's right? About the Phantom being out here?" He looks up at the Witcher before looking around in fear.
Geralt grunts as they come to a clearing in the woods. "The Phantom's a myth Jaskier." He insists, becoming annoyed with his companion. "Would have found it by now if it was real." He adds, dismounting Roach, Jaskier hiding slightly behind him. His cat eyes land on the body of the fallen werewolf that had been terrorizing the town for days on end. He strides over to the body, crouching down to look at the body.
Jaskier peers over his shoulder, gripping his lute just in case. "Is it dead?" Geralt hums, turning the beast only to find that the teeth of the poor creature were missing. The large canines appeared to be cut out of the head. "Don't they usually have those long ones on the sides?" Jaskier's voice trembles the tiniest bit.
Geralt lets go of the head. "Someone killed it alright, took the teeth probably to sell." Geralt stands up, scanning the area with a deep breath. A striking scent hits him that isn't the wolf or the man from the tavern's. A mixture of strong mint leaves and berries hits him, almost like a breath of fresh air. He turns his head slightly before picking up the body of the wolf. "Let's go Jaskier." His eyes linger for a moment in the direction that the scent leads.
Jaskier's already at the horse, waiting for his friend. "Geralt, we have to go." He says, knocking the Witcher out of the almost trance state he was in like he was placed under a spell for a moment. The Witcher turns completely, walking to the bard and his horse despite the strong pull he felt to head off the other way.
