The Whispering Hillock was not far from Lower Velen. It looked like a humble hill surrounded by green pasture. The sun was still setting when the witchers came. Its rays of light shone on the pasture, pointing out a trail for the travelers. The grass gleamed, as if it were emeralds dancing on a magical land.
The Whispering Hillock. It could be a place where lovers whispered their devotion to each other, but it could also be a place where mysterious entities blew sinister whispers into those who inadvertently walked into their trap. “The whispers are everywhere. That’s how this place got its name.”
“Why are we even here anyway, Roy?” Auckes was confused.
“To seek out The Mother. The crones fear her. And we’re also gonna hunt.”
The witchers kept quiet and felt the air for a moment.
“There’s a place like this in Nilfgaard as well,” Serrit said. “A famous geologist said that this phenomenon happens due to the hourglass structure hidden underground. The winds’ howls travel across the ground and reach the surface through the holes.”
“I don’t need to know about the land’s layers!” Auckes had a different opinion. “Are you sure it’s not Gryphon’s stomach rumbling, Roy?”
Yes, I’m sure.
Gryphon stuck its head out of Wilt’s saddlebag. The fleder’s head sat atop of it, and it stared innocently at everyone. It finally turned to Roy, its whiskers trembling in excitement, as if it were asking, ‘You called?’
“Not the time to get cheeky, girl.” Roy poked its forehead and gave her an acorn. The chipmunk slowly retreated to the saddlebag.
Felix cocked his eyebrow. He had noticed this shapeshifting creature for a while now. He wondered what it was, but since it was Roy’s secret, it would be rude to pry unless the young witcher offered the information.
“Do you guys feel off somehow?” Roy rubbed his chin. “These voices… They unnerve me.” He noticed a debuff on his character sheet after they came to the hill. ‘Frustrated.’ He could feel the desire to destroy mounting in him, but his iron will held that desire down.
The witchers nodded. They had a solemn look on their faces.
The group kept going ahead and noticed an old wooden sign buried on the ground. A message was written in red, ‘Crazy beast ahead. Trespassers will be killed and eaten.’ It was probably a warning sign written by the villagers.
The witchers were not scared of mere beasts, of course. They held their blades and led their horses to a mountain some distance away. A great oak tree stood between the grassy hilltop and the golden skies. It had existed for centuries. Even though the witchers were still some distance away from it, they could still see its roots entangling the land, and its canopy that covered the ground in shadows.
The whispers became more frequent the closer they came to the tree. It failed to sway the witchers, but not everything else. As they came close to the tree, a pack of berserk wolves appeared from behind it and attacked the witchers.
Felix stepped ahead and thrusted his blade at a wolf’s lower body. He pulled his blade out and stabbed another one before the first one could even let out a howl of pain. Not a drop of blood sullied his blade, and Felix killed the beasts silently, just like how a phantom would.
Serrit watched his back, focusing on the battle. Every time a beast tried to attack them, he swung his hand and sliced its belly open, and its innards spilled. Three wolves surrounded Auckes, but the witcher only sneered at them. He turned around, spinning his blade with him. The momentum of the blade sent three wolves flying, and he cut another one in half as well.
Letho crossed his blades, and sparks flew between them. He stepped ahead and thrusted one into a beast. At the same time, he thrusted the blade on his left hand into the beast’s body. He held it up in the air and tossed it into the grass. The witcher then started spinning around. His blades turned into a vortex, tearing the beasts in his way apart.
Roy kept firing his bolts. Everywhere he shot, a wolf would burst into a cloud of blood. ‘Wolf killed. EXP +10.’
It had only been moments since they fought the wolves, but the witchers had disposed of most of them despite their number disadvantage. Still, the battle was far from over. Countless beasts kept popping up from the bushes. There were rabid dogs, boars, and even grizzly bears.
All the beasts in the woods came to fight. There were at least a hundred of them.
“Dammit! This is bad.” Roy cast Igni and burned a vulture to ash before its attack could land. He then cast Fear to keep a pack of wolves in place. Roy spun around and killed a group of beasts around him before jumping back up to his horse. Wilt raised its front legs and neighed, then it kicked a wolf that was growling at it.
“Disengage and run for the hills!”
Auckes, Serrit, and Letho cast Aard to push the beasts around them back. “Get on the horse, Vulture!” Auckes shouted.
Felix was fighting a burly grizzly bear. The bear was bleeding profusely under the elegant blade dance, but the bear seemed to show no signs of pain or exhaustion. It was still trundling at Felix, intent on tearing him apart.
The beasts were regrouping quickly, and Felix finally hopped onto his horse. They ran toward the hills, keeping their horses calm with Axii.
***
A group of witchers were escaping from a great herd of beasts. It was as if a group of animals were going through an exodus. Dust and grass swirled in the air, covering the setting sun’s light. It was magnificent. However, the beasts came to a halt when they came to the Whispering Hillock. It was like an invisible wall was stopping them. They paced back and forth outside the hill, snarling and growling, but none of them took a step further. They waited for a long while, but the witchers did not reappear. In the end, they roared one last time at the hill and left in the direction they came.
“What happened?” Auckes looked surprised, but he was also excited. The beasts chased him all the way to the hill, and it felt more exhilarating than a battle.
“Too obvious.” Serrit tied his bandana. “They’re terrified. Something on this hill scares them.”
“They’re scared of something on this hill…” Roy huffed. He had the worst stamina out of everyone. The young witcher said, “So we’re at the right place. The thing sealed under this hill must be the Ladies’ creator—The Mother. Legend says that The Mother is intimidating enough to scare any beast. That must be it.”
Gender: Male
Status: The Heart’s Guardian (It protects the Whispering Hillock’s Cave), Cursed One
HP: 64 (Badly injured)
Strength: 13 (Badly injured)
Dexterity: 12
Constitution: 10
Perception: 15
Will: 6
Charisma: 4
Spirit: 5
Skills:
Wereform (Passive): Werewolves are rulers of the night. They are natural killers. +5 to all offensive stats (including Strength and Dexterity).
Feral Instinct (Passive): An instinct carved in all werewolves’ souls. Possesses incredible perception. Werewolves can detect bloodlust and all openings on their enemies. They can sense danger and evade attacks easier.
Cursed Flesh (Passive)…
Speedy Regeneration (Passive)…
Feral Howl Level 2: Werewolves can let out a special howl to summon nearby wolves or werewolves to assist them in battle.
***
A rancid wind blew as the werewolf pounced onto the witchers.
A bolt arced through the air and smashed through its left eye like a comet. The air itself exploded, and the air current made it wobble, slowing its charge.
The witchers surrounded the werewolf, blades in hand. Their shadows swirled on the walls as they circled the injured werewolf, as if they were hyenas attacking an old and wizened lion. The werewolf roared furiously, swinging its arm around. However, its wounds and Yrden kept it in place, and soon it was overwhelmed by bolts, signs, and a vortex of blades.
A cage made out of vortices of blades kept the werewolf in place as it awaited its eventual death. It cried out in despair with every stab, and yet it failed to stop its blood from spurting out like a fountain.
Ten seconds later, the werewolf fell, his body lacerated with grievous wounds. His charred chest was still heaving, but he was a hair’s breadth away from death.
“I’ll leave the cleaning up for you, kid.”
Felix did not find it weird. He thought they were still training Roy on the ins and outs of the trade.
Roy went and looked at its snout. Its canine teeth glinted menacingly, and its claws were as long as scythes. Roy swung Aerondight down on the werewolf and lopped its head off.
‘Werewolf killed. EXP +180.’
“Help me out here. Let’s cut this sacrifice up.”
The witchers crouched and peeled the werewolf’s heart, eyes, and teeth out. They also found a little something for themselves—a red mutagen.
“They’re getting a werewolf as a sacrifice. Should be more than enough even for those crones.”
The outermost corner of the cave rumbled as they worked through the werewolf, and an old, majestic female voice spoke to them.
***
***