The wind pushed hard against Thorfinn and Arwyn, carrying snow that cut at their skin and obscured the path ahead. The blizzard raged, its roar drowning out almost every sound. Snow reached up to their thighs, forcing each step to be a battle. Thorfinn pressed forward, his shoulders hunched against the cold, with Arwyn close behind him. Both wore thick layers of clothing, yet the biting cold seeped through every seam. Thorfinn's hands were numb, and his breath came in short, visible bursts. Even Arwyn, who ran hot from her werewolf nature, was shivering. Her steps faltered, and she wrapped her arms tighter around herself as they pushed through the endless white.
They had to make it across the mountain range. Turning back wasn't an option. The supplies they carried wouldn't last long if they stopped. Their guide, Geralt, had sent them ahead to track their quarry, but now it seemed foolish to think they could make any progress in weather like this.
The past six months had been brutal. Thorfinn thought back to the training Geralt had put them through. What he once considered grueling under Elijah's guidance now felt like child's play in comparison. Geralt had no patience for weakness, no tolerance for failure. The man seemed more like a force of nature than a teacher. Thorfinn shouted over the howling wind. "Do you have his scent?"
Arwyn shook her head, her movements sluggish. "The wind's blowing at our backs! I can't track him!" she shouted back.
Thorfinn cursed under his breath and pushed forward, each step heavier than the last. His legs burned, and the stiffening cold in his joints made every movement harder. The snow swirled thick around them, erasing any trace of their path as quickly as it was made. He scanned the landscape, searching for any sign—a trail, broken branches, anything that might give them direction. The blizzard was relentless, wiping away all clues. The faint outlines of the mountains around them were barely visible through the dense wall of white. Despite learning more advanced tracking techniques from Geralt he still found himself coming up with nothing.
Thorfinn knew one thing—they couldn't stop now. "We can't stop!" he called back, his voice rough from the cold. "If we stop, we die!"
Arwyn didn't answer. She trudged behind him, her breaths heavy and visible in the freezing air. Snow clung to her hair and lashes, her eyes narrowed against the storm. She kept moving, though her steps were slower.
Thorfinn and Arwyn had joined Geralt on many hunts over the past six months. The Witcher's work often took them through villages and towns plagued by creatures most would consider nothing more than stories. It surprised Thorfinn how many monsters seemed to roam the mainland. Creatures that were only whispered about in Kattegat were commonplace in the lands of France and beyond. Kattegat, for all its dangers, had seemed almost untouched by such unnatural horrors—at least until now.
This hunt was different. It was their first without Geralt leading them. He had said they'd learned the basics of monster hunting but still had a long way to go. According to Geralt, hunting creatures was more than wielding a sword. It required knowledge, preparation, and patience. He'd taught them to study their enemy—its habits, where it slept, what it ate. Knowing your prey was just as important as fighting it. Geralt's meticulousness had sometimes seemed excessive, especially for creatures he could dispatch with ease. But now, trudging through this blizzard, Thorfinn understood. The preparation wasn't overkill—it was survival.
Their quarry this time was one of the Great Snow Apes, known to the locals as the Yeti. The creature walked upright like a man, its body massive and covered in thick white fur. It stood nearly eight feet tall, its strength unmatched. But the most dangerous thing about the Yeti wasn't its size or power—it was its intelligence. Geralt had warned them to avoid being detected. If the Yeti realized it was being hunted, it would turn the tables and become the predator.
Despite Geralt's warnings, Thorfinn and Arwyn had made a mistake. By the time they realized the Yeti had discovered them, it was too late. The creature had led them far into the mountains, and now the nearest sanctuary was a village deep within the Alps. Thorfinn pushed forward, his muscles screaming with every step. The snowstorm had erased any chance of tracking the Yeti now. He glanced back at Arwyn, who stumbled slightly before regaining her footing.
Thorfinn squinted through the blizzard, shielding his face with his arm as snow battered him. He scanned the horizon, searching for anything that could shelter them. His eyes landed on a dark spot in the distance. It was small, barely visible through the storm, but it looked like the entrance to a cave. They would have to crawl to get inside, but it would be enough to wait out the blizzard.
He turned to Arwyn and gripped her arm tightly. "There! A cave!" he shouted over the howling wind.
Arwyn leaned closer, her voice strained. "What about the Yeti?"
"We've lost his trail! It's no use searching aimlessly!" Thorfinn replied, starting toward the cave without waiting for her response.
Arwyn followed closely, their steps heavy and slow through the thick snow. The blizzard made it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Thorfinn kept his eyes locked on the cave, focusing on its outline to keep moving forward.
As they drew closer, a deafening roar cut through the storm. Thorfinn froze, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. From the snow, the Yeti burst forth, its massive form charging toward them. Thorfinn dove to the side, narrowly avoiding its swinging arm. Arwyn wasn't as quick. The Yeti's strike caught her squarely, and she was sent flying through the air. She hit the ground hard and slid across the snow, coming to a stop twenty feet away.
Thorfinn scrambled to his feet and reached for his sword, but it wouldn't budge. The sheath had frozen shut. He cursed under his breath, gripping the hilt tightly, but the Yeti didn't give him time to free it. The creature charged again, its massive fists aimed at him. Thorfinn raised his hand, forming the sign for Quen just before the Yeti's fist connected.
A shimmering barrier appeared around him, absorbing the blow but shattering on impact. Thorfinn skidded back through the snow, his hood falling away to reveal his white hair whipping in the wind. He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright as the Yeti slammed its fists into the ground and let out another roar.
The Yeti rushed forward, its steps shaking the ground beneath the snow. Thorfinn reached for his dagger, drawing it smoothly. He threw it toward the creature's head, but the wind shifted the blade, and it sank into the Yeti's shoulder instead. The Yeti growled in pain but bared its teeth in a grin, confident that Thorfinn had no defense left.
The Yeti's confidence shattered when Thorfinn's fist connected with its jaw. He had formed a white sphere of energy around his hand, and the force of the blow cracked the Yeti's dense bone. The impact rattled the creature's head and sent it flying backward. It tumbled down a steep slope, crashing through the snow before coming to a stop.
Thorfinn stood at the edge, looking down as the Yeti staggered to its feet. The creature let out a low growl before retreating into the storm. Thorfinn exhaled and turned back toward where Arwyn had landed.
A shout reached his ears over the wind. He ran toward the sound, finding Arwyn hanging off the edge of a cliff. Her hands gripped the icy surface, but the slick frost made it impossible for her to climb.
Thorfinn dropped to his knees, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. "Hold on!" he said, pulling with all his strength. The ice cracked beneath his knees, but he didn't stop until she was back on solid ground.
Arwyn sat up, breathing heavily. Thorfinn helped her to her feet and steadied her. "We need to get to the cave now," he said. She nodded, and they continued toward the shelter, not looking back.
Thorfinn trudged through the deep snow. His breath fogged the air as he pointed to the small opening in the rockface ahead. "There, it's close," he called over his shoulder. Arwyn followed behind him, her movements slower as the storm pressed against her. She squinted through the flurry of snow and nodded. "Looks cramped," she said, her voice low.
"It's better than freezing out here," Thorfinn replied, not slowing his pace.
When they reached the entrance, Thorfinn crouched and inspected the opening. It was narrow, barely wide enough to fit a grown man. He dropped to his knees and gestured for Arwyn to follow. "We'll have to crawl."
Arwyn muttered under her breath but got down beside him. "Lead on, then."
Thorfinn pressed himself to the ground, his chest scraping against the frozen earth as he pushed forward. The passage was tight, the rough stone brushing against his shoulders and sides. His breath echoed faintly, the sound swallowed by the confined space. Behind him, Arwyn followed, and afterwhat felt like an eternity, the narrow tunnel opened into a small chamber. Thorfinn sat up first, though the ceiling forced him to hunch over. Arwyn crawled in behind him, brushing snow from her arms as she sat back on her heels.
The cave was cold and dark. The walls were uneven, the floor hard and damp. Thorfinn extended his hand and began murmuring in the Druidic tongue. A small flame flickered to life in his palm, casting a dim light around the chamber. The warmth was faint but better than the biting cold outside. Arwyn held her hands close to the flame, her fingers stiff from the chill. "What now?" she asked.
Thorfinn stared at the flame, his expression unreadable. "The plan hasn't changed. We make it to the village, resupply, and finish the creature."
Arwyn raised an eyebrow. "I could catch its scent if I shifted," she said.
Thorfinn shook his head, his tone firm. "You know the rules. No changing unless it's life or death."
"You used your quaking abilities," she said, her voice edged with irritation.
Thorfinn glanced at her, his jaw tightening. "The thing was about to rip me in half, if you didn't notice."
"Maybe use your sword next time," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.
Thorfinn huffed and lifted the sheath strapped to his side. He held it out, showing her the frozen leather. "It's stuck," he said plainly.
As he adjusted his position, his elbow jabbed into her side. Arwyn immediately reacted, jabbing him hard in the ribs. Thorfinn flinched and shoved her shoulder, though the confined space made it more of a nudge.
"Don't touch me," Arwyn snapped, turning her back to him and pulling her cloak tighter around herself.
Thorfinn muttered under his breath, rubbing his ribs where she had struck him. The tension between them settled into silence, broken only by the faint crackle of the flame.
Arwyn stared at the wall of the cave, her thoughts drifting. She had joined Thorfinn on this journey six months ago, though even now, she wasn't entirely sure why. At first, she had told herself it was to understand her feelings. She didn't know if she hated him for what had happened to her family or if she cared for him despite it. Six months had passed, and she still didn't have an answer. Most of the time, she found him infuriating. His stubbornness, his blunt tone, and his tendency to take charge without consulting her grated on her nerves. But when he wasn't around, there was a void she couldn't ignore. It wasn't just loneliness—it was something deeper, something she didn't know how to name.
For Thorfinn, Arwyn was a reliable companion, even if she was difficult to deal with. Her strength and sharp instincts had saved his life more than once, and her presence, though often combative, had become something he relied on. They clashed frequently, but their bond had grown stronger with each passing trial. It was strange to think where they had started, with her being his slave and then becoming his woman and now this; he still wasn't sure that happened to cause such a drastic shift in her personality, he could only guess it was side effects from Dahlia's curse or perhaps the forest. He did miss her warmth at nights, but he had long accepted that she was unlikely to have the feelings she once did.
Arwyn glanced over her shoulder, her gaze landing on Thorfinn. He sat with his back against the wall, the flame in his hand still burning steadily, as he used it to melt away the ice around his sheath. His expression was hard, his thoughts seemingly far away. She sighed and shifted her focus back to the wall.
"We should try to rest," she said after a moment.
Thorfinn didn't reply immediately. He extinguished the flame and adjusted his cloak, leaning his head back against the rough stone. "Aye. Rest while we can."
___________________________
The cave was cold through the night, the walls damp. Thorfinn rested his back against the stone, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His body ached, and the confined space made it difficult to find a position that didn't aggravate the soreness in his muscles. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the cold and the discomfort. Arwyn sat close by, her head leaning back against the wall. Her breathing slowed as she drifted into a light sleep, though she stirred often. The space was tight, and every movement she made brushed against Thorfinn. Her legs shifted, her cloak dragging along the floor as she tried to keep herself warm.
Thorfinn fell into a restless sleep, his body shivering despite the layers of clothing and the fire they had extinguished earlier. His dreams were brief and broken by the constant chill.
When morning came, the faint light from outside filtered through the narrow opening of the cave. Thorfinn stirred first, blinking as his eyes adjusted. He shifted slightly, feeling something warm against him. He looked down to see Arwyn pressed against his side, her arms wrapped around his torso. Her breath was steady, her face turned into his chest for warmth.
He didn't move at first, unsure of what to say or do. The warmth was comforting, reminding him of when she used to press her naked body against him. But as he stirred again, Arwyn's eyes opened. She blinked slowly, realizing her position. Without a word, she pushed back, pulling her cloak tightly around her.
"We should get up," she said flatly, avoiding his gaze as she adjusted her clothing.
Thorfinn nodded and leaned forward, rubbing his face with his hands. He stretched his neck, tilting it from side to side before pressing his palms against the cave floor and pushing himself to his feet. He bent down to avoid the low ceiling as he rolled his shoulders and stretched his back. A faint crack sounded as his muscles loosened.
"Let's go," he said, glancing toward the cave's entrance.
Arwyn brushed snow off her boots and nodded. "Before the snow traps us here again," she replied.
Thorfinn ducked through the narrow opening, crawling on his hands and knees until he emerged outside. The air was cold but still, the blizzard having passed in the night. The sky was pale, and the ground was covered in a thick layer of fresh snow. He stood and stretched again, his hands pressed into the small of his back as he exhaled.
Arwyn followed, pulling herself through the entrance and standing beside him. She adjusted her cloak and shielded her eyes from the glare of the snow. "We'll make it to the village by sunset if we keep moving," she said.
Thorfinn looked at her and nodded. "Let's not waste time."
The journey was slow. The snow was deep, and the uneven terrain of the Alps made every step difficult. They passed jagged rocks and narrow paths, their progress steady. Thorfinn paused occasionally to check their direction, glancing at the position of the sun and the landmarks they passed. As the hours passed, the landscape remained desolate. The silence was broken only by the crunch of their boots and the occasional gust of wind. Thorfinn's hands were stiff, his fingers numb despite the gloves he wore. He rubbed them together as they walked, flexing them to keep the blood flowing.
Arwyn's breathing was steady, though the climb took its toll. She leaned against a boulder briefly when they stopped, her hands gripping the edges as she caught her breath. "How much further?" she asked.
"Not far now," Thorfinn replied, gesturing toward the horizon. "The village is beyond the next ridge."
They pressed on, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The orange glow spread across the snow, casting long shadows behind them. Thorfinn quickened his pace, eager to reach the village before nightfall. Arwyn kept up, her steps matching his as they crested the ridge. The village came into view as the sun hovered just above the horizon. Small wooden buildings were nestled in the valley below, their roofs covered in snow. Smoke rose from a few chimneys, curling into the air and disappearing against the pale sky.
Thorfinn stopped at the edge of the ridge, scanning the village below. "We're here," he said.
Arwyn stepped beside him, pulling her hood lower as she looked at the settlement. "Let's not waste time," she said, starting down the slope.
Thorfinn followed. The closer they got to the village, the stronger the scent of smoke and wood became. The sound of faint voices and the occasional bark of a dog carried through the still air. They entered the village just as the last light of the sun faded. Thorfinn adjusted the pack on his shoulder as they walked down the narrow path between the houses. Villagers moved about, their faces weary from the cold. Most paid little attention to the two travelers, their focus on their own tasks. Thorfinn stopped near the center of the village, looking around for a place to rest. "We'll find an inn," he said, glancing at Arwyn.
Considering how remote it was, Thorfinn was surprised at the number of people in the village. Growing up in a cold place, he understood the difficulty of obtaining food at times. One bad spring or autumn could cripple your food supply and leave you starving during the winter months. It made him curious about how people survived in this place.
"There is something strange about this place," Thorfinn muttered, mostly to himself, though Arwyn's sharp hearing caught it.
She nodded. She could feel it too. As Arwyn adjusted to her new body after Thorfinn broke the curse, she started to rely on her enhanced senses—especially her sense of smell. There was a strange scent in the air around her. It was familiar, yet she couldn't say why.
"We need to find shelter. What if we don't find an inn?" she asked.
"What do you mean? If we don't find one, we take it. That's our way," he said as he walked forward through the village.
Arwyn narrowed her eyes slightly at him. She had almost forgotten he was a Viking in the past six months. He hadn't killed anyone who wasn't a monster or stolen anything, but it seemed he hadn't changed at all. Your way, not mine, she thought to herself as she followed him.
Thorfinn looked around for a while, but he saw no signs, nor did he hear the sounds of revelry that might've hinted at the presence of an inn. He considered that such a remote place might not have one—what kind of travelers would come to a place like this? Thorfinn spotted a man stacking firewood and approached.
"Bonjour, savez-vous où nous pourrions acheter de la nourriture ou trouver un endroit pour dormir?" (Hello, do you know where we could buy food or find a place to sleep?)
The man didn't look up, continuing his work.
"Nous avons besoin d'un abri pour la nuit." (We need shelter for the night.)
The man picked up his axe and walked away.
"They're ignoring us," Arwyn muttered.
Thorfinn turned toward a woman carrying a basket. "S'il vous plaît, madame." (Please, ma'am.) She didn't stop.
Thorfinn breathed heavily as frustration started to mount within him. He had promised Geralt that he wouldn't kill anyone who was not a monster or directly threatening him, as the Witcher had said it was bad for business, but it was becoming difficult.
Before Thorfinn could say anything more, a man stepped forward from the shadows of a nearby building. He was thin, his face sharp, with eyes that seemed to dart around as if looking for something. He wore a threadbare coat and smiled as he approached.
"Vous cherchez un endroit pour rester?" (You are looking for a place to stay?) the man asked.
Thorfinn turned to him, nodding. "Oui. Nous avons besoin de nourriture et d'un abri." (Yes. We need food and shelter.)
The man's grin widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Je peux vous aider. Venez avec moi. Ma maison est un peu petite, mais confortable." (I can help you. Come with me. My house is small, but comfortable.)
Thorfinn glanced at Arwyn, who gave him a wary look. Something about the man felt off, but they had no other options. Thorfinn nodded and gestured for the man to lead the way.
The man walked ahead, his movements jittery, like he couldn't stay still for long. Back in Kattegat, Thorfinn would have called out and stabbed such a person without hesitation. But here, in such a remote place, what reason would anyone have to betray or harm them? The village seemed too isolated for conspiracies, and from what Thorfinn could see, the people lacked iron weapons, relying mostly on wooden spears. If it came to it, Thorfinn knew he could massacre the village and still have time to sit by the fire while Arwyn finished preparing supper.
The man hadn't lied about his home. It was small, more like a large shack than a proper house, but it was shelter, and that was all that mattered. Thorfinn and Arwyn followed him inside without hesitation.
(Assume they are speaking French, cba to translate)
The man introduced himself as Alaric, gesturing for them to sit by the fireplace. He ushered them toward the flames, urging them to warm themselves. Thorfinn sat without a word, his mind scanning the room for anything out of place. Arwyn removed her thick outer layers and sat beside him. When her face and figure became visible, Alaric let out a strange laugh.
"You're a lucky man," he said to Thorfinn. "She's beautiful."
Arwyn glanced at him, her face unmoving, though her hands tightened around her cloak. She felt a slight unease she couldn't explain.
Thorfinn nodded but didn't reply.
Alaric clapped his hands together and said, "Food will be ready soon."
Thorfinn nodded again but kept his focus on Alaric, who was busying himself near a small cooking pot. Something about the man unsettled him, though he couldn't put his finger on it. His movements were too precise, too deliberate, as though he were overcompensating for something.
Thorfinn leaned forward. "Why does everyone here ignore strangers?"
Alaric stirred the pot and didn't look up. "Life is harsh here. Cold takes the warmth out of people. They don't waste time talking outside. Talking is meant to be done by a warm fire."
The answer was reasonable enough, but it didn't sit well with Thorfinn. He glanced at Arwyn, whose gaze was fixed on Alaric. She said nothing, but Thorfinn could see she shared his unease.
Alaric stirred the pot again and began to speak. "It's been a long time since we've had visitors here. It's exciting, really. Strangers don't come this way often." He paused, glancing at Thorfinn. "What brings you so far from everywhere else?"
Thorfinn glanced at Arwyn. He saw her shoulders tense, though she said nothing. After a moment, he answered. "We hunt the Yeti."
Alaric's hand froze for a fraction of a second before he resumed stirring. Thorfinn noticed the hesitation, as did Arwyn.
"That sounds dangerous," Alaric said, his voice breaking slightly.
Thorfinn leaned back slightly, keeping his eyes on the man. "The monster has been descending the mountain. It's been stealing babies from their cribs in villages nearby."
Alaric didn't respond immediately. "I see," he said after a pause. His stirring slowed, and he fell silent, his focus seemingly on the pot.
After a time, Alaric ladled the stew into bowls and handed them to Thorfinn and Arwyn. He gave Arwyn's bowl a larger portion, his hand lingering for a moment as he passed it to her. Arwyn took it but didn't eat. Alaric stood back and smiled. "I hope you enjoy it," he said, his tone strange and uneven.
Thorfinn lifted a spoonful of the stew toward his mouth but paused to sniff it. Something was off. He couldn't place it immediately, but he knew it didn't smell right. He glanced at Arwyn, whose nose wrinkled as she sniffed her own bowl. She met his gaze and gave a slight nod.
Thorfinn threw the stew into Alaric's face without hesitation. The bowl clattered to the floor as Alaric stumbled back, shouting in surprise. Thorfinn was on him in an instant, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him against the wall.
"What did you put in the stew?" Thorfinn shouted, his grip tightening.
Alaric squirmed, his hands clawing at Thorfinn's. "It's nothing! I swear!"
"Do not lie to me!" Thorfinn shouted again, his voice echoing in the small room.
Thorfinn slammed his fist into Alaric's stomach. The man sputtered and gagged, unable to double over with Thorfinn holding him upright. Alaric's eyes darted to Arwyn as she stood from her seat and moved toward a small drawer. She opened it and pulled out dried plants. She sniffed them before handing them to Thorfinn.
"I'm not sure what it is," she said.
Thorfinn examined the plants. He didn't recognize them either, but he knew they weren't meant to aid digestion. He turned back to Alaric. "Why do you mean us harm?" he asked. The man gave no response. Thorfinn's grip tightened, his frustration building.
A roar echoed through the mountain.
Alaric began to laugh. The sound grew louder as another roar followed, this one closer. "He is coming," Alaric said, his voice trembling with something that wasn't fear.
Thorfinn had heard enough. He drew his dagger and thrust it into the man's chest. Alaric's smile didn't falter, even as his breathing stopped. Thorfinn pulled the blade free and wiped it on the man's shirt before sheathing it. "Annoying," he muttered.
Arwyn crossed her arms. "He was. Now we have no answers."
"We don't need answers," Thorfinn said, reaching for his furs. "I already know what's happening."
"Enlighten me," she said.
Thorfinn strapped on his furs as he spoke. "The villagers worship the yeti, or they've made some sort of deal with it. Likely the former." He gestured toward the sparse furnishings. "This place shouldn't exist. There isn't enough food here to sustain a village of this size, and they're deep in the heart of the yeti's territory. It doesn't add up."
Arwyn tilted her head. Thorfinn sighed. "I should have seen it earlier. Geralt warned me about being led into a trap. I didn't listen."
Another roar interrupted them, louder than before. Thorfinn strapped on his sword. "Come on. They're likely waiting outside."
Arwyn drew her short sword and followed him to the door.
Thorfinn pushed the door open and stepped outside. A crowd of villagers stood in the snow, armed with clubs and spears. None of them moved, but the roar in the distance grew louder. Thorfinn counted at least fifty people. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
Arwyn stepped to his side. The villagers shifted but did not attack.
The roar echoed again, closer this time. Thorfinn looked toward the mountains, his hand tightening on his weapon. The villagers formed a tight semicircle around Thorfinn and Arwyn, their faces grim and determined. The leader stepped forward, gripping a worn wooden club. "Disarm yourselves and allow us to bind you," he said, his tone sharp. "Do it now, and we'll spare you unnecessary pain."
Thorfinn tilted his head, the hint of a smile creeping onto his face. He rested his sword on his shoulder, its edge still slick with blood from earlier. "Is that so? Generous offer," he said, glancing at Arwyn. "What do you think?"
Arwyn let out a low laugh, flexing her fingers around the hilt of her short sword. "I think they'll regret making it."
The leader scowled, his expression twisting into anger. He barked an order, and the villagers surged forward, their makeshift weapons raised. Thorfinn and Arwyn stepped apart, each positioning themselves for the fight. Thorfinn shifted his stance, his sword held low, ready to strike. Arwyn crouched slightly, her eyes scanning for the first opening.
A villager charged at Thorfinn, thrusting a spear toward his midsection. Thorfinn sidestepped, catching the shaft with his left hand and yanking the man forward. His sword swung in a wide arc, cutting clean through the villager's neck. Blood sprayed into the snow as the body collapsed, but Thorfinn was already turning to meet another attacker. A second spear came at him, this time aiming for his chest. He twisted his body, letting the blade glance off his cloak, and stepped forward, spinning his sword into a reverse grip. The steel plunged into the man's gut before being ripped free in a fluid motion.
Meanwhile, Arwyn faced two villagers at once. One swung a club at her head, but she ducked low, the weapon whistling past her ear. She moved in close, grabbing the man's wrist and twisting it sharply until she heard the snap of bone. He screamed, dropping the club, but she silenced him with a quick thrust of her sword to his stomach. Before she could turn, another villager jabbed at her legs with a spear. She leapt high into the air, her enhanced strength carrying her over the man's head. She landed behind him, grabbed his hair, and dragged her blade across his throat in one swift motion.
Thorfinn raised his left hand, forming a quick sign in the air. A shockwave burst out around him, throwing three villagers off their feet. One scrambled to stand, his spear trembling in his hands. Thorfinn closed the gap in two strides, his sword flashing as it sliced through the man's chest. Another came at him from the side, swinging a club. Thorfinn pivoted, using his blade to deflect the strike, then slammed his fist into the attacker's face. The man staggered back, and Thorfinn finished him with a thrust to the heart.
Arwyn was surrounded by three villagers, all holding crude spears. They jabbed at her in unison, but her reflexes kept her ahead of their movements. She sidestepped one strike, grabbed another spear mid-thrust, and snapped it over her knee. She shoved the broken shaft into the attacker's shoulder, forcing him back, then ducked under a second spear and drove her blade into the wielder's ribs. The third villager lunged, but she spun away, kicking his legs out from under him and finishing him off with a downward stab. Thorfinn blocked a spear strike, trapping the weapon against the flat of his blade. He twisted his wrist, breaking the shaft, then stepped forward and drove his knee into the attacker's stomach. The villager fell to the ground, clutching his side. Another charged at him, and Thorfinn raised his hand again, forming a quick sign. Flames erupted from his palm, engulfing the man in fire. His screams were cut short as he collapsed into the snow, his body smoldering.
Arwyn leapt over another attacker, using his shoulders as a springboard to flip behind him. She landed lightly and drove her sword into his back before yanking it free. Two more villagers rushed her. She ducked under one's swing, grabbed his arm, before spinning and throwing him nearly twenty feet away into the wall of a house. The second thrust his spear at her, but she sidestepped, caught the weapon, and wrenched it away before using it to impale him. The remaining villagers hesitated, their resolve wavering as they stared at the bodies scattered around the clearing. Thorfinn stepped forward, his sword dripping blood, and met their gazes. "Run," he said flatly.
The villagers broke, throwing down their weapons and fleeing into the darkness. Thorfinn sheathed his sword, scanning the area for any stragglers. The snow was red with blood, and the air was thick with the scent of iron and sweat.
Arwyn wiped her blade on a fallen man's cloak, her breath steady. "Think they'll come back?" she asked.
Thorfinn wiped his sword clean on the tunic of a fallen villager, the blade catching the faint light of the moon as he straightened. "No," he said, glancing at Arwyn. "They'll likely run and hide behind the Yeti's skirts."
The words had barely left his mouth when a low, rhythmic thumping reached their ears. It grew louder with every second, accompanied by a faint tremor in the ground. The nearby houses shook, the loose wooden boards creaking under the force. Thorfinn's grip on his sword tightened, and he looked toward the source of the noise.
From behind one of the larger houses, a massive figure emerged. The creature stood taller than any beast Thorfinn had ever faced, easily towering over twelve feet. Its frame was thick and powerful, its white fur covered in patches of frost. The sheer size of its limbs made the air seem heavier as it moved. Following close behind it was another Yeti, smaller in comparison but still massive, standing at about eight feet tall. The smaller one roared, its sharp teeth bared, and slammed its fists into the ground.
Thorfinn's jaw tightened as the realization struck him. He had made another mistake.
If Thorfinn had done more thorough research on the Yeti, he would have known that adult Yetis were never under ten feet tall. Finding one smaller than that meant only one thing: it was a child. And where there was a child, there was almost always a parent.
"Shit," Thorfinn muttered under his breath. His mind raced as the larger Yeti locked eyes with him. Its lips pulled back into a snarl, and it let out a deep, guttural roar that echoed through the village. Without hesitation, it dropped to all fours and began charging, the ground trembling under its weight.
"Thorfinn!" Arwyn shouted, stepping back and raising her short sword. She glanced at him, her eyes wide but her stance firm.
"I see it," he replied sharply, adjusting his grip on his sword. The Yeti's massive form grew larger with each passing moment, the smaller one running at its side, roaring in sync with its parent.
The ground shook as the Yetis charged. Thorfinn braced himself, gripping his sword tightly while his eyes locked on the larger one. Arwyn darted to his left, her short sword in hand, ready to face the smaller one.
The large Yeti reached Thorfinn first, swinging its enormous arm down with incredible force. Thorfinn sidestepped, barely avoiding the blow as the ground where he had stood exploded in a spray of dirt and stone. He swung his sword in an upward arc, aiming for the beast's exposed side, but the Yeti twisted at the last second. The blade grazed its thick fur, drawing a shallow wound. It roared in anger, swiping at him again with its other arm. Thorfinn ducked under the blow and slashed at its leg, cutting deeper this time.
Arwyn dashed toward the smaller Yeti, which lunged at her with surprising speed. She sidestepped its clawed hand and drove her sword into its arm. The Yeti howled, pulling back and slamming its fist into the ground. The force of the impact sent Arwyn staggering, but she regained her footing quickly. She lunged forward, slashing across the beast's chest before leaping back out of its reach. The Yeti snarled and came at her again, swinging wildly. She dodged its strikes, using her agility to stay one step ahead while delivering quick counterattacks.
Thorfinn pressed his attack on the larger Yeti, aiming for its legs to slow it down. The beast roared and swung both arms in a wide arc, forcing him to leap back. As he landed, he formed a hand sign, and a glowing barrier appeared in front of him just as the Yeti charged again. The creature's fist smashed into the barrier, shattering it but slowing its momentum enough for Thorfinn to sidestep and slash at its ribs. The strike landed, drawing blood and a deafening roar of pain.
Arwyn wasn't faring as well. The smaller Yeti's relentless attacks were beginning to wear her down. It feinted a strike to her left before lunging at her right, catching her off guard. Its massive hand slammed into her side, sending her flying into a nearby wall. She hit the ground hard, coughing as she tried to stand. The Yeti was on her in an instant, raising its claws to finish her off.
With a growl, Arwyn's body began to shift. Her limbs lengthened, her muscles expanded, and thick fur sprouted from her skin. Her face twisted into a wolf's snarl, her sharp teeth bared as she fully transformed into her werewolf form. The Yeti hesitated for a moment, surprised by the sudden change, but Arwyn didn't give it a chance to recover. She lunged at it, her claws tearing into its chest and her jaws snapping at its neck. The Yeti roared in pain, stumbling back as blood dripped from its wounds.
Thorfinn glanced over as the larger Yeti let out an enraged roar. Seeing its child under attack, it turned its attention to Arwyn. Thorfinn moved to intercept it, but the Yeti's massive hand swatted him aside, sending him crashing through the wall of a nearby house. He groaned as he hit the ground, shaking off the debris and forcing himself to his feet. The larger Yeti charged at Arwyn, its powerful arms swinging wildly. Arwyn ducked under the first swing and leapt onto its back, sinking her claws into its shoulders and biting at its neck.
Meanwhile, the smaller Yeti turned its attention to Thorfinn, snarling as it charged toward him. Thorfinn steadied his breathing, watching the creature's movements carefully. As it swung its arm, he stepped to the side, avoiding the blow entirely. The Yeti followed up with a second strike, but Thorfinn ducked under it, slashing at its arm with his sword. The blade bit deep, severing tendons and drawing a spray of blood. The Yeti howled in pain, stumbling back.
Thorfinn pressed the attack, darting in and out of the Yeti's reach. Each time it swung at him, he evaded the blow and delivered a precise counterstrike. He switched his sword to his left hand, catching the Yeti off guard, and slashed at its thigh, cutting deep into the muscle. The creature fell to one knee, roaring in pain and fury. Thorfinn reversed his grip on the sword and drove it into the Yeti's shoulder, forcing it to the ground. He didn't stop. He tore the blade free and slammed it down again and again, each strike cutting deeper until the Yeti stopped moving.
Arwyn continued to fight the larger Yeti, using her enhanced strength and speed to stay ahead of its attacks. She leapt onto its arm as it swung at her, using the momentum to climb onto its back. Her claws tore into its flesh, and her jaws clamped onto its neck. The Yeti roared, reaching back to grab her, but she dropped to the ground and slashed at its legs, forcing it to its knees.
Thorfinn stepped out of the wreckage of the house, blood dripping from his sword. He looked at the larger Yeti, its back turned to him as it fought Arwyn. Without hesitation, he charged forward, driving his blade into the creature's side. The Yeti howled in pain, but Thorfinn didn't let up. He tore the blade free and slashed at its legs, cutting deep into the tendons. The beast collapsed, unable to support its weight.
Arwyn delivered the finishing blow, leaping onto the Yeti's chest and driving her claws into its throat. The creature let out one last roar before falling silent. She stepped back, her chest heaving as she shifted back into her human form.
Thorfinn wiped his sword clean on the Yeti's fur before sheathing it. He glanced at Arwyn, who was leaning against a nearby wall, catching her breath. "Are you hurt?" he asked. Though he did look intently at her as she was now naked, she had grown up a lot since he had first met her. A mix of training and getting older was giving her a body that sent blood rushing down to his loins. Her breasts were larger, her thighs muscular, her ass which used to be small was becoming thicker and rounder. She was becoming more than just pretty, she was beautiful, though the similarities to her sister did cause a slight tightness in his chest.
She shook her head. "Nothing I can't handle," she replied, her voice steady despite the exhaustion in her eyes.
Thorfinn nodded, scanning the area for any remaining threats. The village was silent now, the surviving villagers having fled during the fight. He turned back to Arwyn. "Let's take what supplies we need and get out of here," he said as he cut off the Yeti's heads.
...
A week of grueling travel brought Thorfinn and Arwyn off the mountain and back to the village that had given them the contract. The air was warmer here, the terrain less brutal. By the time they arrived, their clothes were covered in dirt and dried blood, but they paid no attention to the looks of the villagers as they walked through the square. Thorfinn carried a sack slung over his shoulder, the contents heavy and the sack bloody.
They approached the village elder's hut. The elder sat at a table, his frail hands tracing the lines of a map as he muttered to himself. He looked up as the two entered, his eyes widening when Thorfinn dropped the sack onto the table with a loud thud. Without a word, Thorfinn untied the sack and pulled out the head of the smaller Yeti, setting it down. The elder recoiled slightly but managed a nod.
"You've done well," the elder said, sliding a pouch of coins across the table.
Thorfinn didn't respond. Instead, he reached back into the sack and pulled out the much larger head of the mother Yeti. He slammed it onto the table next to the first, the force causing the elder to flinch.
The elder's face paled. "You killed the mother too?"
Thorfinn nodded. "It was necessary."
The elder swallowed hard before reaching into a chest and pulling out another pouch. "Take this. It's more than the agreed sum, but you've earned it."
Thorfinn grabbed both pouches without a word, tossing one to Arwyn. They turned and left, heading toward the inn. The scent of roasted meat and ale reached them before they even opened the door. Inside, the fire roared in the hearth, casting flickering light over the room. Geralt sat in his usual spot near the fireplace, a tankard in one hand and a plate of food in front of him. His silver hair gleamed in the firelight. He looked up as they entered, his yellow eyes scanning them briefly.
"You fail," Geralt said before taking another sip from his tankard.
Thorfinn stopped in his tracks, his fists tightening at his sides. "What do you mean we fail?"
Geralt set his tankard down and leaned back in his chair. "You've been gone long enough for me to figure it out. You lost track of your quarry and ran out of supplies. That means you had to head to that isolated village in the Alps."
Thorfinn glared at him. "What of it?"
Geralt smirked faintly. "Which means they ambushed you. A smarter move would have been to come down the mountain, not go deeper into it. And I know Arwyn shifted into her wolf form. She's wearing different clothes."
Arwyn stiffened but said nothing. Thorfinn stepped closer to the table, his fists still clenched. "You're saying we were supposed to abandon the hunt?"
"No," Geralt said. "I'm saying you didn't think. You didn't account for the mother Yeti."
Arwyn narrowed her eyes. "How did you know there was a mother?"
Geralt picked up his knife, cutting a piece of meat from his plate. "Adult Yetis don't descend the mountain. They're too cautious, too intelligent. It's the children who make mistakes and wander too far."
Thorfinn slammed a fist on the table. "So you knew there were two from the start, and you didn't tell us?"
Geralt looked up, his expression unreadable. "You would've known too if you'd studied the bestiary I gave you."
Thorfinn's jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he stepped back. Geralt finished his bite, taking another drink before setting the tankard down with a soft thud. "You fail. You need more training."
Geralt stood, brushing crumbs from his tunic. Arwyn watched him with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"Getting ready to leave," Geralt replied. "We need to reach the coast in a few months."
Thorfinn's anger simmered beneath his calm tone. "Why the coast?"
Geralt paused near the door, adjusting his cloak. "We're getting a boat."
Thorfinn took a step forward. "Where are we going?"
Geralt's yellow eyes glinted in the firelight as he turned his head. "The greatest city in the world."
With that, Geralt stepped out into the night, leaving Thorfinn and Arwyn standing in the warm glow of the inn. Thorfinn's fists unclenched slowly, his mind now fixed on what Geralt had said. There was only one place he knew of that was known as the greatest city in the world, one of the places that held the remains of the once great empire.
Constantinople.
(AN: So yeah these chapters will be Thorfinn developing, getting stronger and going on adventures, they aren't terribly important, but there will be certain objects he obtains that will have importance later on, he'll also meet people that might perhaps show up later. No the yeti isn't one of them, this was just a chapter to get you into the swing of things. Arwyn might seem different, and she is, she's no longer hiding her dislike of Thorfinn, though who knows if that'll change. I won't lie but there's a chance Arwyn isn't gonna make it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter)
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