The screams and shrieks of a mob was never a pleasant experience for anybody's ears, but this morning the horrible experience started as early as the sun rose ridding many of their much needed sleep. A short woman standing at the back of the crowd was one of those people, her annoyed eyes following the procedures closely. Vensa Toruviel was a mystery to most who inhabited the small town and she was grateful for it as it caused many to avoid her and leave her to her own devices. Her small stature allowed her to easily go unnoticed by most, an aspect that had proven itself useful to her over the years when she was placed in tough situations. Her sea green orbs were focused on the centre of the small town square, watching the current attraction that was causing so many people to react so noisily. A female elf, 2 human men and a burly dwarf weren't something that you had a chance to see everyday in these quieter regions, especially with tight nooses around each of their necks.

She had been in this town for well over 3 weeks now (though she didn't enjoy it much), and had so far seen 6 creatures hanged for minor crimes like refusing to hand over their goods to the current 'leader' of this dank place, or even preventing a young female elf from being used by the local guards who seemed to have an unstated appetite for them. A place that was once a known for being a bustling and happy place thanks to the large number of trade routes running through it, was now replaced with this hellhole for anyone that didn't seem even remotely human whether they were dwarves, elves or even half breeds. Never interfering with the spectacle hangings was a new rule for her, knowing well that she could end up just like the poor souls that had experienced the effect on their own necks. This time however, the situation was different. This time the criminals were her friends, (some of them at least) and she would not allow them to be lead to their deaths for crimes that they did not commit. It would certainly be a risk to her life and even reputation but at the moment it seemed worth the effort.

By now she had considered multiple options of rescue ranging from making the entire city fall asleep to attacking the guards with her knives, but she knew well that none of these methods would work. She had quite a magical prowess but for yet another moment in her life Vensa wished that she had learned how to use a bow. It would have been a perfect weapon to use in this situation without revealing her identity, easily cutting down the nooses and letting them run, but alas it was not to be. Cursing her lack of foresight she gripped the two daggers tightly readying herself to just go with it instead of planning an attack, when one of the prisoners shouted out a name shaking her out of her haphazard thoughts.

"Geralt!"

Twisting around she noticed a muscular white haired man push his way through the crowd. From the confused look on his face she could tell that he just arrived and quite likely had no idea why two of his friends were about to be hanged. His eyes scanned the crowd looking for answers until they finally rested on her. He seemed to be the only person to be physically able to see her when she didn't want to be seen, a trait no doubt gained by his witcher status and the idiocy of the people around them. Grinning, Vensa waved her hand lightly and called him over to her. He was being followed by two people a man dressed in quite expensive clothing and the witch Triss Merigold, both of whom seemed quite uncomfortable in this setting. Their sight though calmed her down immensely though and wiped any remaining shattered shards of her suicidal plan. She knew well that despite Geralt's grumpy attitude and the stupid situations his friends always got into, he would never let a friend die. Honor was one of the things he treasured most, a factor that often surprised many onlookers.

"What in the world is going on Vensa?

"Dandelion and Zoltan are about to be hanged. You've come just in time. I was about to storm the platform by myself."

"You wouldn't have made it, but that's beside the point. Why are they being hanged?"

She grinned lightly at the knowing look he gave her, both reliving past experiences in their minds. Vensa was quite the troublemaker when she was young, something that unfortunately Geralt often had to deal with. By now she had lost count of how many near death experiences she somehow managed to get into, most of them through sheer stupidity and a pinch of curiosity. That being beside the point though, he owed his life to her as well making them equal in her mind. That opinion was not shared by the witcher, although he simply didn't have enough patience to breach that subject again. With her explosive nature it had almost become a taboo for them.

"I heard rumors but nothing concrete. You'll have to ask the guard if you want to know everything."

She pointed towards the man that was desperately trying to calm down the crowd with no apparent success. Like most guards here in Flotsam he was a quite chubby man with a worn out uniform, little hair, and often no control over his lower anatomy, making it quite hard to distinguish one among the rest. Vensa herself had a few run-ins with them due to her fairly fair appearance. After the first few tries, no one dared to approach her again even while heavily intoxicated, a system that was much to her liking. The only other person on the execution block was the enthusiastic executioner, a man who took great pleasure in pushing the levers, dooming those standing on it and gladly proclaiming their deaths to the unmoved bystanders. All in all it was an accident just waiting to happen in Vensa's mind.

Neither of the men seemed reasonable enough to negotiate with the white haired newcomer, however Geralt didn't seem to care and engaged in an animated discussion with the man, threats spilling out every so often even with the seemingly calm tone of the conversation. The guard was stubborn though, allowing Vensa's prediction to come true, not changing his mind even when the crowd stood behind Geralt reminding the guard of all his misdeeds. Vensa would have gladly joined in and added some comments of her own, but she was more concerned about staying unnoticed. In the situation that Geralt required her help, being unseen would be a useful benefit to have. Instead of helping, the arguments only seemed to raise his anger further, especially when one of the town 'companions' to satisfy a man's needs, related to everybody just how his lower anatomy was shrivelling up. A comment like that would anger any man, and as one with such a low opinion already the guard was none to pleased. Swinging a punch at Geralt he started the useless fight, quickly whipping up the crowd into a frenzy. Shouts and cheers erupted once more in the square adding to the excitement, despite the obvious outcome. Punches were exchanged between the two and the guard managed to get in some good hits, something to be admired when fighting a witcher, although it was clear right from the start that Geralt would win this fight. Every hit the witcher swung reached the target, easily turning the guard into a moaning pile of shame and misery.

The fight was almost at it's climax when Vensa's attention was drawn back towards the executioner who was making a move towards the first victim's lever. It connected to a platform under a young elven woman, no doubt belonging to the 'companions' if her low cut dress and proud painted face was anything to go by. The lever was pushed mercilessly and a small screech could be heard as she fell to her death. The rope tightened stopping her legs just as they reached the ground, leaving the elf motionless and deathly quiet much to the pleasure of the crowd. No one noticed Vensa's arm reaching forward her lips moving in a quiet mutter. It was as if out of instinct that Vensa's arm shot out the correct spell already on her lips, stopping the elf just before the knot became too tight around her neck, something that did not happen often. Instinct was a thing drilled in to her by Geralt himself and if this was her reaction then that elf had to be significant.

The smart woman stayed motionless as the crowd cheered the executioner on, getting even more excited when Geralt jumped up onto the wooden structure to meet him before any further lives were lost. The unconscious guard and the 'dead' elf were easily forgotten as everyone's eyes were drawn to the new source of excitement. It was at that particular moment that the elf decided to open her green eyes slightly and take a quick peek around for her saviour. She observed the crowd thoroughly before her orbs settled on Vensa's outstretched arm. Looking up she was surprised to see Vensa, lips still moving in a silent spell. A human sorceress saving an elven 'companion' was unheard of as most of the group considered themselves far above the rest of the creatures on this miserable planet, elves included. Flotsam was known for it's hatred of the non-humans and sorceresses often joined in the fun. All the elf could do was nod slightly to Vensa in thanks, closing her eyes again once she received an identical reply. She may have been alive for now but if anyone else noticed that it was so, she wouldn't stay that way for much longer.

"What the **** is going on here? Somebody ******* tell me that!"

Vensa almost lost her concentration at the sudden shouting behind her, almost letting the elf slip the rest of the way down onto the rope. Fortunately she caught herself in time though the jolt no doubt could be felt by the young elf. Her eyes scrunched up slightly as it forcing down her curiosity and concentrating more of staying alive. The origin of the obscene outburst turned out to be Bernard Loredo himself, the self proclaimed leader of the small town and the reason behind the cruel day to day acts. Like his guards he was on the bigger side with less hair than expected, though with much more expensive clothing and a self confidence that made him consider himself God and executioner over the miserable people residing here. He took great pleasure in using his power to amass riches from the trades and a wide harem of women simply too scared to fight either him or his guards. With him came around ten more soldiers, all looking ready to fight unlike the now shamed guard still lying on the ground. It didn't seem good for any of them.

"Your men were about to hang innocent people. Dandelion didn't do anything that your men didn't do."

"True maybe for the bard, however I hear that you are also defending the dwarf. He's been found to conspire against Flotsam with the criminal Iorveth. I can't allow someone like that to run around free. I'd rather allow this thief to live than him."

Loredo's monologue slowly took him up the stairs and onto the platform only to stop in front of a black haired man right next to the elf. She could only guess that the man was about to be hanged for thievery, although the condemned made no move to agree or counteract the accusation. He seemed almost resigned to his fate. Vensa could see the elf's eyes twitch but she stayed as motionless as possible, unlike her Loredo would not show any mercy. Loredo himself looked like a demon from hell when he smiled, evil intent drowning in the dark and never ending abyss he held in his eyes, smirking smugly at Geralt before kicking the thieve's lever with as much force as he could muster up. Vensa watched horrified as the man struggled trying to breathe before stiffening and falling silent. She didn't have enough magic or concentration to hold both him and the elf at the same time, the drain from that one continuous spell was already giving her worrying signs. Her legs shook with fatigue and a small rivulet of blood slowly came dripping out of her nose. She ignored these warning signs and instead poured more of her power into holding onto the spell, although continuously praying that the spectacle wouldn't last for much longer. If it did, the spell would break and the thief wouldn't be the only one to end up dead.

"I was just kidding, I hate thieves. You may be right about the bard but cases concerning the betrayal of non-humans are not in your area witcher."

"No but they are in mine."

The voice came from the crowd below as the well dressed man who accompanied the witcher finally stepped forward, his head held high. In appearance he reminded Vensa of the merchants often seen in towns and cities selling their wares, though the authority this man held proved he was anything but a lowly merchant. Loredo instilled fear into those that tried to make money in this town, confiscating anything to his liking if the fee wasn't paid in the correct amount. There were rumours of a backyard containing riches beyond belief, one that was kept under strict lock and key. The fear and rumors circling around made his word law, and any merchant who dare oppose was often left with nothing. The terror spree was only aided by the number of important trading routes that happened to passe through here, forcing many to face this town in order to get into any of the other major cities. This man seemed to hold none of that fear she saw in many, making her believe that either he was very brave or just plain idiotic.

"And who are you?"

"My name is Vernon Roche."

"The leader of the non-human disciplinary squad, aka. the blue stripes. It's certainly a surprise to see you so far out, but even you can't order me to release a prisoner that has been conspiring with the most dangerous criminal we've had in Flotsam for years."

Eyes snapped open in shock as the elf took a peek at the newcomer, shutting just before any of the onlookers could spot her. Vensa understood the shock perfectly, feeling the fear rile up within her at the memory of what this man had done to the to any non-humans that might have stood in his way. Just as many humans accused Iorveth of mercilessly killing their kinds, Roche's blue stripes responded in kind, torturing, killing and persecuting any non-humans whether they be dwarves, elves or half breeds that might have had anything to do with the Scoia'tael or other resistance group. Some of them even committed these crimes simply for fun, enjoying causing pain to those considered below them. It was an endless cycle of death and pain. A side would react causing retaliation from the other group and would continue to happen until one side won complete victory, a hard feat to achieve. She had no doubt that the news of Roche's arrival would soon reach Iorveth if didn't already know. Why couldn't everyone just get along? Why did her soul try to tear itself apart every time she had to make a choice about the two? SHe just couldn't decide who was right and who was wrong.

"I am willing to make a deal though. You will meet me at my house at midnight and we can talk everything over in a more...comfortable setting. Your friends will be released but the can't leave the town unless I say so, deal?"

"Deal."

Loredo nodded slightly and waved his troops away, returning to his immense house at the end of the town boundary. The remaining people on the square either quickly dispersed or watched as Loredo and his men returned to his lavish home to drink away their queries with a hidden resentment. Many of the town's people were starving or barely scraping through daily life, and it was only natural that hatred within them rose at the obvious cause. The two unconscious bodies of the guard and the executioner were dragged away unceremoniously in the dirt by their peers, no doubt either to be punished or dumped somewhere on the way. Geralt shook his head in annoyance at the arrogance of the man before cutting down Dandelion's and Zoltan's ropes. Once done with that he walked towards the elf readying his sword to cut her down as well. There was nothing that could be done about the thief anymore.

"What are you doing Geralt? There's no point in cutting the elf down. Even you can't help the dead."

"She's not dead yet Zoltan. Just ask Vensa."

Geralt pointed his hand towards Vensa's location, making everyone turn around to look in her direction in surprise. Most of them probably weren't even aware of her presence there nor her involvement in today's disaster prevention. Vensa knew she probably wasn't a pretty sight, barely standing on her shaky feet with blood pouring out of her nose, eyes drooping in exhaustion, but her outstretched hand towards the elf told the others everything they needed to know. Even to the newcomers it was clear from her clothing and posture that she was a sorceress, and those of her kind didn't simply walk around with outstretched arms. They always has a reason for everything. She tried to sheepishly wave to them with her free hand but it quickly returned to it's previous position in holding back the blood from her nose. She certainly overdid herself this time.

"You'll introduce us later Geralt. Now please cut her down already. I can't hold her up for much longer."

Geralt nodded before swinging his sword at the elf's rope cutting it in one clean strike. The elf's eyes opened in shock as she started to fall but Geralt's grip on her arm stopped her and instead pulled her back up towards the platform. The fear was evident in her eyes as she look at the witcher, although gratefulness also shone through. Holding her throat the elf coughed a few times, getting used to normal flow of air again. It seemed that the longer Vensa used the spell the lower the altitude of the elf went, even choking her slightly in the last couple of minutes. It was truly admirable that despite the lack of oxygen she somehow managed to stay still and stop herself from panicking. Not many could say the same in her situation. Vensa herself was in a pretty bad shape, and would have collapsed if Roshe hadn't walked up and supported her with his own body. His arms wrapped around her body and pulled her up to her high, holding her tightly as her own legs seemed much too weak to keep working anymore. She gave him a slight nod in thanks before looking back towards the now approaching elf, a small usures mile on her face. It looked like the elf wanted to say something, but Vensa simply waved her off waved her off.

"Don't worry about it, but I suggest that you get out of the city quickly. Most people don't take kindly to dead elves walking around in their city."

"Thank you Dh'oine. Here, take this. Wear it around your neck always and the forest will keep you safe. May the gods bless your soul."

Placing something warm into Vensa's small hand, the elf smiled and fled for the closest gate leading back out towards the neverending forest just outside. Fortunately enough, it didn't seem to have any guards watching over it today, probably due to the party being hosted by Loredo at his house. What man would pass up free beverages and enough 'companions' to satisfy all of their needs.

Unclenching her fingers and looking down at her hand, Vensa realised that the gift was a small silver chain with a delicate carving of a leaf. The three pointed leaf was coloured a light shade of green almost as if carved straight out of a gemstone of some sort. It was attached to the chain by a silver thread encasing it in a gentle embrace. It was a beautiful gift and no doubt an expensive one, and although Vensa was grateful she didn't understand how such a thing could protect her in the forest looming outside. The dangers withing didn't just consist of Scoia'tael but spiders, drowners and any other manner of beasts thirsty for the blood of the living. She wasn't the only sceptical one of the necklaces ability. Vernon Roche was naturally suspicious of anything coming from a non human, and didn't quite trust the female elf, enough not to believe her story fully. One question loomed above all others. If it really was that powerful and valuable, then where did an elven 'companion' acquire it? It just didn't seem to add up to him.

"It looks like a normal common necklace, so how could it protect you? Does it posses magic?"

"No, otherwise Geralt's medallion would have reacted to it."

"She's right. There's no magic on it."

Despite her cautiousness, Vensa clasped the chain around her neck, the cool temperature of the chain causing her to shiver. The chain's length placed the warm charm directly in between her full breasts, hiding in between the folds of her clothing. It wouldn't do her any good it it was stolen just after she received it and itn a poor town like this, that was almost a certainty. Looking up at the group surrounding her she smiled and attempted to stand up on her own two feet. the attempt had only been partly successful as she still had to rely on the leader of the blue stripes for support, leaning against him ever so slightly. Gesturing at the doors directly to her left she turned towards Geralt.

"Well, now that everything is settled, why don't we talk over in the tavern. It'll be much more comfortable there, than here near a recently deceased body would it not?"

"The young lady is right. We should go and rest over a pint of good beer, we did have an interesting day after all. Mlady?"

Roshe raised his arm for Vensa like the gentleman he was, which she accepted gratefully. She was still rather weak from the spell and she needed to conserve her strength if she was going to prove useful to the group. She doubted that Geralt was here simply to visit, especially not while being accompanied by an enchantress and the ruthless leader of the blue stripes. They had a mission to fulfil, but for now that could wait. The day had presented enough excitement already, and she wasn't sure if she could suffer through any more. Roshe led her towards the doors with the others following them, with Zoltan and Roshe making jokes about the Scoia'tael leader in the background. Vensa laughed along finally relaxing, not even realising what the future would bring for her and the leader of the squirrels, or how important he would soon become to her.