The Witcher The Swallow and The Monster

The Eternal Fire's Followers

(F/N) trudged through the sewers, the sewage was up to his knees, he could feel things swimming between his legs. Some were bigger than they should be. Joachim had surprised him, the surgeon had brought a rather large crossbow with him, and he clearly knew how to use it. The men had ran into a pack of drowners, but instead of running, the healer proved that he could take life as well as he could save it.

The witcher could smell that same scent in the distance, honey and roasted flesh, it was putting him on edge. Where had he smelled it before? He tried taking his mind off it by talking to his companion, "Priscilla, how bad is she doc? Give it to me straight."

The doctor trudged through the sewage next to him, he spoke about this casually, as if it wasn't too serious, "Her wounds will heal. She's young. But it's her voice that concerns me."

"Poor Priscilla..."

"Yes...Surely you understand what a terrible blow that would be to a trobairitz. Enough for her to lose her will to live." The two men walked up a stair case, the sewage dripped off their clothes, further staining the wood, "Is there anything that can heal her?"

The older man sighed as he slung his cross bow over his back, "I fear only your friend Dandelion can be of help on that count."

The witcher nodded, he knew Dandelion, the troubadour would do everything in his power to help poor Priscilla all he needed to do was find the bastard that did this. The smell of honey and flesh only got stronger as they walked into another tunnel, there was a bit of sewage on the floor, but it was nothing too horrible. Finally the men made it to a ladder, the witcher looked above it, the stench was so powerful it made him want to gag, "We're right under the morgue I assume."

The doctor nodded, and gestured to the ladder, "That we are, up you go."

(F/N) climbed up, the sewage dripped off his clothes, when he made it to the top, he had to cough, not because of the bodies, they had been preserved well enough. The healer climbed up behind him, "This is the place." He walked into the dark morgue, "Come, the quicker we take care of this, the better."

(F/N) followed him into the next room, it was filled with bodies on slabs, some were submerged in salt, "That we can agree on."

The doctor nodded, "It's best we don't get caught by the coroner, for example...or Reverend Nathaniel Pastodi."

The witcher looked at all the bodies, some of which he had played a part in them getting sent there, "So, who was our victim?"

"A dwarven woodcarver."

(F/N) started looking at the bodies, "Shit," he had a bit of trouble identifying the bodies, there were only a few candles around the place.

"Something wrong?"

"I was hoping it would be a human woman. If it was a male dwarf, that means the killer doesn't have a preference for his victims. Or if he does, it's harder to find. Which means he'll be harder to catch."

The doctor glanced at him, as he looked at other bodies, "You've experience in this sort of matter?"

The witcher looked at a dwarf and examined him, "You could say that. I think I found our man." (F/N) had a hunch, he didn't need to look him over, he could smell the honey and burnt flesh, but the dwarves body didn't smell like it had been dead for long. The surgeon walked over to him, "Sawdust in the beard, calluses on the hands, skin sticky with sap, this is our dwarf. I trust you don't go weak in the knees at the sight of blood?"

(F/N) laughed, "I wouldn't be a witcher if I did. Let's start the autopsy."

"Where?"

The witcher closed his eyes, the smell was annoying him, he needed to think, "The head. His hair was singed, like it was burned."