a/n: Woah the story actually reached a hundred likes! thank you so much! also sorry about the son/daughter thing. The original draft had son on it. I fixed it now though. have fun with chapter 2 :)

Chapter 2: They who slay for coin

It has been awhile since he had left the small unnamed village where he had saved a child from a hag.

"What are you doing here in this Hamlet Sir Huntsman?" The man in rags who introduced himself as Grant. Just Grant. He made an effort to hide his noble birth.

"Passing by. Heading to the Bloody Baron far north of here… Crows Perch if I remember it right" He said as he ate. He was still dirty from the fight before.

"The bloody Baron? Sir Huntsman, you must be mad. That Baron would rather order his men to flog than talk to you. He is known to kill people for as little as bumping into him. Or so the rumors say. But the Baron IS an unreasonable man..."

"Hm…" he just grumbled and shrugged.

"Unreasonable huh?..." He grumbled to himself. He reached the end of the forest. What greeted him was a meadow, overlooking far away mountains. Grass, flowers and bushes covered the meadow. It was scenic. It was beautiful. He took his time to admire the view and enjoy the peace.

"Why are you seeking the bloody Baron?"

The huntsman paused.

"I'm… looking for a girl. Black hair with red tips, wearing a red cloak. Her eyes are silver, short and in her late teens or early twenties... I had heard from the villages I passed that someone of that description was heading towards Crow's Perch."

"I see… I don't know about a girl in red cloak. But I did hear about the baron housing a strange girl with strange powers. I don't know whether this girl was wearing a red cloak. Some say she had dark hair others say white. The details often get muddled if they were spoken by word of mouth." Grant said.

"Girl with strange powers… where did you hear of this?" The huntsman asked.

"Oh a few travellers. Many come by this village to rest. Often called this small village, RestWood. The village is small but peaceful enough…. Until the hag came. Travellers tend to love to talk once the Ale reaches their heads."

The Huntsman nodded.

"Thank you for the information. It gives me peace knowing that."

"Barely enough for what you did. As I said before. Look for the noble house of Aethis and I will reward you handsomely for saving my daughter…"

He looked at the sky. He wondered how many times he looked up. He hoped. Maybe prayed. Everyday he kept looking up. Looking for something.

"I need a horse." He sighed.

The last horse he had ran as soon as he and the horse encountered a monster. It wasn't even a big one. It was a small endrega hatchling. The horse dropped him from his saddle and ran with most of his items. He had left the endrega alone knowing that if attacked or killed it could release pheromones that could attract full grown endrega warriors. The hatchling may of have strayed from the nest. He was not going to risk a fight without proper equipment given that most of his monster oils and bombs were on horse.

"This time a better horse. Damn horse..." He cursed.

He walked along a trail, sometimes stopping to gather some alchemical ingredients from plants. He had to thank the blonde haired witch for teaching him alchemy. It was impressive how the witch had managed to learn alchemy despite being new to this world. And then he stopped walking and groaned.

"Should've sent a letter to Glynda… shit…"

He had forgotten to send a message through magic at the town he last visited before 'Restwood'. The town had a local mage who could use birds as messengers. Had made business of delivering letters throughout the kingdoms seeing as how magic was now being closely monitored by both Nilfgard and Timeria. With the rising tensions and the ongoing war. It was smart for that mage to switch to just being a business owner.

"Never gonna hear the end of her nagging."

As he was walking on the trail he heard soft gurgling and shrill mutterings a couple of meters away from him.

"So much for peace and quiet…"

He ducked behind a bush after he approached the area where the noise came from. He peered from the bush, slightly leaning to check the noise.

"Nekkers…"

Short goblin-like creatures surrounded a downed cart. There were about fifteen of them. Five scavenging the items in the barrels and crates from the cart, four acted as lookout and six were currently butchering a dead horse. Just further away from the horse was a gruesome sight. Four men, likely a merchant and hired guards. The merchant, he assumed, wore extravagant travelling clothes, the other body was wearing normal looking clothes, probably the servant. The two bodies left were both wearing leather armor. But they died a distance away from the merchant and his servant. They were all gored. Ripped to pieces. These weren't done by the nekkers. He'd have to take a closer look to know what did this and that meant killing all those nekkers.

Nekkers… ugly beasts the size of children. They had limited intelligence like using tools and such. They were classed as Ogroids in the book of monsters. Pack hunters mostly. They had human like bodies albeit emaciated, nobody knows whether they're naturally thin or they're malnourished, nobody had seen a fat nekker before. Three long talon-like fingers with long sharp needle-like claws. Their heads were the most peculiar features on the creature. It had no chin. Like that of an obese human, folds of fat sagged to it's collar bones. On the sides of its head were two short horns below it are their ears which seems to be just a hole on the side like that of a lizard. It had no nose. Just eyes and then a mouth with sharp teeth. It was wearing a loincloth and various pieces of bone from both humans and animals as some kind of makeshift armor. Oddly enough despite their use of those, nekkers tended to avoid using human weapons thankfully.

The huntsman could still remember when he encountered one of these the first time. It involved panicked sword swings and lots of scratches throughout my body.

He looked around for any sign of the pack alpha. A nekker wearing a skull from an animal as some sort of crown. Usually bigger and wore blades made of sharpened bone on it's forearms.

"There you are…"

He spotted the alpha eating a part of the butchered horse. He checked his equipment. His hand went to the bastard sword's replacement. A wood axe. .

"Got any weapons?" He asked the peddler.

"I'm sorry stranger but I'm all out of weapons right now. All I have is this short sword but I can't sell it to you. Can't be unarmed when travelling. Too dangerous." The peddler said as he bowed with his apologies.

The huntsman sighed.

"I'm truly sorry stranger…"

The village had no blacksmith and all the weapons at the local stores were all sold by the army.

"Damn it."

"Why not use the sword on your back?"

The huntsman flinched and looked at him.

"It's broken. I only carry it since it has… sentimental value."

"Ah… I see. Sorry."

"It's alright." He nodded to the peddler and just left. The peddler knew he struck a nerve when he mentioned the sword.

"Wait!" The peddler stopped the huntsman.

The huntsman stopped and looked back. The peddler rummaged a chest on his cart. There he pulled out a wood axe. It looked sturdy enough. The peddler walked towards the huntsman.

"This isn't exactly a weapon. But if you really need something to defend yourself up close and personal I can give you this axe."

The huntsman took the axe in his hands and held it. He inspected the tool. Sturdy.

"This'll do… thank you." The huntsman tried to get his coin pouch out of his waist pack. The peddler saw how small the purse of the huntsman was.

"No need. I told you I'd give it to you free of charge. As thanks" The peddler smiled.

The huntsman was quiet. He once again looked at the axe he was given.

"Thank you."

He pulled the axe from the holster on his waist. Nekkers aren't the strongest of monsters. They're even considered one of the weakest in terms of individual strength. Their bodies lacked sturdiness so an axe should suffice. The huntsman contemplated whether to use one of his exploding bolts to deal with it quicker but decided to save it as he was down to his last dozen. Even then it would only scatter the pack. In fact, he was running out of all of his supplies. His arrows were replenished but the quality of the new arrows were poor, he could use those. He considered making a molotov cocktail using some left over alcohol and several alchemy bottles but changed his mind. It was too wasteful.

"Looks like we're doing this the old fashioned way…"

He set down the axe just enough to be in reach when needed and snapped open his portable recurve bow that he pulled out from his waist. He unfastened the rope that was holding the arrows that prevented them from falling and pulled out 6 arrows that he stabbed to the ground next to him. He shifted his position and knocked and arrow as he aimed.

'Breath in…' he steadied his arms.

'Hold.' he aimed for the head adorned with a deer skull, specifically the eye.

'Breath.' He let go of the string.

The arrow shot forward, passing by the nekkers. The nekkers looked up, wondering what zipped by them. Next thing they knew their pack leader screamed in pain. Confusion came as the leader kept screaming as it's eye was pierced by an arrow.

Another arrow passed by them, this time hitting the pack leader in the heart. It was then that they looked towards the direction of a bush. Looking closer was the huntsman crouched with his bow. The huntsman pulled out an arrow that he stabbed beside him and fired another arrow into the pack leader's heart, killing it.

"One."

The pack dispersed. Trying to flank him. Six charged at him head on while four headed to his right flank and five on his left. He didn't wait till they got closer. He fired all of the arrows he prepared. Three died having each being hit with arrows in their vital parts.

"Four…"

He didn't get to fire more as the nekkers finally got close to him. The nekkers tried to surround him but he suddenly stood up from his position, grabbed the wood axe and charged the six nekkers in front of him. He slammed to to the on coming nekkers blowing two away but not kill them, the others tried to grab him but swiped the axe in a horizontal swing. He took out one and staggered two.

"Five.."

One was spared to to it being a little bit farther away from the others. The flankers tried to attack from behind after he ran towards the frontliners but the huntsman quickly turned and charged at them. Another slam to a group of them. The force was weaker since he had little running space so it only staggered them. He swung his axe down a staggered nekker and split it's head. He tried to pull out the axe but it was stuck firmly onto the nekker's skull.

"Argh!" He was suddenly pulled down to his knees.

Three nekkers took advantage of the situation and attacked, one climbing on his back and slashing it while two clawed his sides. The armored parts kept him safe but the claws somehow went through the leather he was wearing under the armor.

Blood trickled through the leather parts. More of the nekkers started to approach him while the others seemed to be watching on the sidelines jumping and screeching as if cheering on their comrades. Before the approaching nekkers got close the huntsman stood up and grabbed the two that clawed him by their wrists. One was violently thrown by the side, breaking its shoulder, and the other was slammed down beneath him to which he proceeded to stomp the head, crushing the skull and killing it. The one riding on his back was startled and tried to jump back but the huntsman grabbed it's leg and pulled it in front of him. He growled as he slammed the nekker down while still holding it's ankle. It struggled. But he did not relent. He lifted the nekker again and slammed it on the other side. It did not die but it's arms looked broken and sagged. The other nekkers backed off. Seeing as the nekker was alive he again lifted the nekker and slammed it to the other side like a hammer. The nekker died at a loud snap could be heard. The nekker is dead. But the huntsman did not let go.

The other nekkers trembled at the brutality. The were frozen in fear. The huntsman breathed raggedly and slowly turned his head towards them making them flinch. He then started to drag the body towards them. Seeing as there were still about eight of them, they still did not retreat. One was brave enough to attack headlong only to be crushed as the corpse of its brethren was hammered down towards it. The huntsman then ran dragging the corpse beside him. He swung corpse down at one, it didn't kill the nekker but it pushed it down. The huntsman threw the corpse away and grabbed the ankle of the downed nekker and swung the body, still alive, at its brethren. One died as soon as the nekker that the huntsman helds had its horn pierce another nekker's neck killing it. The nekker he was still holding was still alive albeit weakened. Seeing as using a small bodied creature as a club was not effective he crushed it's head and tossed it away.

"Six left…" his voice was ragged.

He turned to the remaining nekkers. Still too many. He could try to fetch the axe but it would take time and the nekkers could get another opening. He was already beginning to tire.

"Fuck it… Come on!" He made a stance with the round shield strapped to his arm. The nekkers screeched as they charged him. One of the nekkers tried to pounce him but the huntsman got up close to it and punched it in the face. He then continued with another jab making the nekker fall to the ground. He switched targets as another nekker tried to blind side him. He made a sideways swipe with his round shield, effectively slitting the nekker's throat. Another nekker jumped on his back and tried to claw at his face but he grabbed the nekker's wrist and threw it over his shoulder. The nekker hit another making them both fall down. Another tried the same attack but the huntsman quickly spun and held its throat. The huntsman then slammed the nekker on the ground and stomped on the back of its neck, breaking it. The last did a frontal assault but was given a heavy kick the chest. He quickly got up to it and used the edge of his round shield to decapitate it.

"Two left."

The two remaining nekkers tried to escape.

"There is no escape."

The huntsman's body glowed like when he fought the ghouls but this time it was faint. He didn't need strength, he needed speed. The huntsman ran towards them with great speed and as soon as he caught up with the fleeing nekkers he grabbed their necks and pushed one down. The other, the back of its throat still gripped by his hand, struggled. He used his arm to set the monster in place and snapped its neck. The fallen nekker tried to stand up but a boot held him down on the ground. The nekker stared at the looming figure. It could faintly see blue glowing eyes behind the helmet's visor. The figure was heaving. Whether it was due to fatigue or rage, the nekker panicked and struggled more.

The huntsman unstrapped his round shield and held it with both hands. He raised it up over his head.

"Fifteen…"

The nekker screeched. The shield came down. Blood splattered and then there was silence.

The huntsman heaved. Exhaustion came. He touched the wound where a nekker's claw pierced. He looked at his own blood on his fingers.

"This was a stupid idea." He tiredly spoke. Fifteen nekkers. He underestimated them.

He approached the body where the axe was still lodged at a nekker's skull. A rookie mistake.

"Should've just slashed its neck. I'm getting sloppy." It was easier and less chances of a weapon getting stuck. He got too caught up with the fight early to focus on technique. He needed more discipline.

He focused his mind and meditated. Another faint glow and he could feel his wounds closing up...

"Running out of aura…"

Aura. Was something he and his peers had before they fell from the sky and into this world. Ever since the incident. All of them, except for him and another, lost their aura. But only the other one kept all of hers. His was severely cut. Barely running on fumes. His once large pool of aura became lesser than a regular soldier back on his previous home. His previous world. He was lucky to even have aura. The others stayed behind walls that they built when they realized the hostility of this world. Unable to venture out because of the monsters that roamed in the forest where they crashed. It only made them realize how much they relied on aura to empower them.

The Huntsman sighed. Remembering her again.

After a moment of rest he walked back to the downed cart and examined the bodies closer. He examined the servant first.

"Hm. Died quickly. Large claw marks on the back…"

He moved to the merchant.

"Large chunk missing from the neck and shoulder. One bite. No teeth marks though."

He searched the pockets for anything of use. Crowns and jewelry. He took them and put them in his waist pack. Before, he would've been appalled by his own actions. Pilfering the dead was a dishonorable thing to do but with him being barely paid for the monster he kills he needed all the money he could get.

He then moved to the guards.

"Hmm… died fighting something. Got ripped to pieces fast. Singular slash marks on the leather armor. Pierced through it."

He looked around for their weapons. He found a simple iron sword and an iron spear. He sheathed the iron sword on his side and strapped the spear on his back.

He moved to the butchered horse but nothing could be examined anymore due to the nekkers.

He looked around for more clues and noticed it. Just below some fallen leaves were large black feathers.

"A griffin… a large one judging from the wounds. Ambushed the caravan and killed the servant first. The merchant next with one fatal bite. The guards tried to flee. Judging from the distance it caught up to them instantly. Tried to fight back and then killed. The griffin killed the horse last but was unable to secure it when the nekkers came. Probably why a whole pack of fifteen came. Scared the griffin off with their numbers… a griffin..scared?"

The huntsman looked around. Blood everywhere.

"It was already wounded."

He turned to look at the trail.

"Probably far away now."

He then turned to the cart's cargo.

/0/

War is never pretty. Death everywhere and disease spreads. The war between the northern realms and Nilfgard only brings chaos and destruction to all. Peasants… lords. Men, women and children. Young ,Old. All war brings is death and grief.

He slung a sack full of produce over his shoulder from the downed cart he passed by a while ago. He had arrived at a river along the trail and looked towards a burned down village at the other side of the river. He could see survivors, a few old women and a few children wept upon what was once their homes. He sighed. He never got used to seeing this sight. It was his job to protect people. As a huntsman, It was his duty to help. But what can he do in times of war? Getting involved with a side is too dangerous. This destruction wasn't caused by monsters. Though sometimes he wonders if the soldiers that pillage and rape can be considered human at all.

He looked around. Checking for any drowners in the river. Luckily there were none close, probably because of the griffon. Territorial disputes between monsters were not rare.

There is a village much further from here known for its blooming orchards. White Orchard they call it. Just so happens that his trail lead to a shortcut. He needed to be at least presentable to the folk lest be asking for trouble. He put down the burlap sack and knelt at the river bank. He removed his helmet and used a cloth to wipe the blood away with water. He put his helmet on again as he finished and started to wipe the blood off his armor. The sword wrapped in cloth on his back became drenched in blood. He peeled off the the drenched cloth and threw it away revealing a second layer of fabric, this time it was colored brilliant red. Untouched by the elements due to the first layer. It wrapped around the sword. Snuggly covering all of it except the golden/bronze crossguard and blue hilt.

"..."

He stared at the red fabric. Another memento from another friend. Though this one was not missing. For she had died long before they came to this world.

"Do you believe in destiny?..." Her words echoed in his head.

He snapped out of it. His grip tightened around the fabric.

"Not anymore… I won't lose anyone else…" he stood up and looked at the sky. The sun was still up but in a few hours it will set.

He finished cleaning off the blood and went to grab the sack.

Then a sudden screech came from above. He quickly turned and pulled out his sword. There from the other side, he saw a griffin fly away over head. He looked closely and saw that he was right it was wounded long before. And it looks like someone recently attacked it as it was bleeding on the underside. He looked to the direction to where the griffin flew from and two men on horses rode out.

They were wearing all black leather armor. One old and rather on the large side, the other was relatively young. Both had white hair, the young one was 40 maybe. Had a scar on his face. The peculiar things on these men where that they were wearing two swords on their back. He was too far away to see their eyes but the huntsman knew who these were. Their legends spread far and wide. Whether good or bad.

"Witchers."

Hunters of the world's filth. Slayers of monsters in exchange for coin. Lots of coin. Superhumans created through mutations. Trial of the grasses they called it. The good witch once commented on how barbarous and gruesome it is.

The one with the scar noticed him and stared for a few minutes before he rode off. Once they were gone following the trail that they were on, the huntsman also walked away, towards white Orchard. He hoped that the produce he was carrying was enough to buy him a horse.

/0/

He reached a field of flowers. Orchards. White orchards. The huntsman chuckled a little bit at how on the nose the name of the village was. The village was smack dab at the center of it. He had to admit, the place was beautiful. The flowers were in full bloom too.

He walked along the trail to enter the village. Along it he passed several villagers and some children playing as well. It was peaceful. It's been awhile since he found a peaceful village… or so he thought.

He approached the entrance and was blocked by a guard.

"Halt stranger!" He wore black armor. Armor of the Nilfgardian army. The huntsman cursed under his breath. He never liked the Nilfgardians. Too uppity. To authoritarian. He was reminded of a place called Atlas back on his world. Instead of white, they wore black.

"Remove your helmet and then state your name and business." He was then flanked by other guards. Making sure that he wouldn't do anything funny.

"Of course." He nodded.

He dropped the sack that he slung over his shoulder and unfastened the helmet on his head.

Standing before the guards was a tall blonde man with blue eyes and a diagonal scar on his cheek. He was fair skinned. Handsome even. A light stubble grew on his face. His hair was not that long but long enough for what he calls 'warrior's wolf tail'.

"Name?"

"Of course. But can I ask why? I don't recall any other villages having to ask for people's names." The huntsman said.

"Captain's orders. Every person entering White Orchard must be documented and accounted. Now. Name please." The guard demanded.

"Jaune Arc… of Ansel." The huntsman answered.

"Jaune Arc of Ansel…" the guard wrote down a log book. "Huh. Never heard of a village named Ansel."

"It was destroyed a long time ago. It was supposed to be one of the new frontier towns at the south." The Huntsman lied. He couldn't exactly say that he was from another world.

"I see. Occupation?"

"'Huntsman."

"Huntsman? Some kind of hunter? What do you hunt?" The guard asked.

"Monsters." He answered with a straight face.

The guards laughed.

"Hear that? He hunts monsters!" One guard guffawed.

"Must think himself a witcher!" Another one scoffed.

"I'm not joking here lad." The guard looked at him sternly.

"I'm not joking." He grabbed a pouch on his belt and gave it to the guards.

"What is- good gods!" The guard threw the bag away as he opened it. Nekker fingers spilled out of the bag. All index fingers. The guards pulled out their swords, it startled the villagers watching.

"Sorry. Was hoping to cash those in. Might have a bounty on those Nekkers. I encountered them just east of the village here." The huntsman said as he picked up the bag.

"Gods man! You didn't have to throw a bag of those disgusting things at me. I'd have you executed if it weren't for the circumstances." The guard straightened himself.

"Sorry. Just wanted to present some evidence. I found a fallen cart east of here by the way. Attacked by a griffon, scavenged by nekkers. Few dead bodies."

The guard nodded to the other guards to sheath their weapons. The other guards obliged.

"Blasted griffon. Been harassing us for weeks. If you really are some monster hunter then I'd recommend you to see the commander at the black fort. But two witchers arrived earlier. Got a feeling they'll take care of the griffon. I'm guessing that the sack you're carrying came from said cart."

The Huntsman nodded.

"Was hoping to trade it in for a other items on the cart were already spoiled and half eaten. Only took the usable ones."

"Alright then. You. Take it." The guard gestured another guard. The guard grabbed the sack and hefted it away. The guard stumbled as he lifted the sack. It surprised him since the huntsman seemed to carry it like it was only filled with leaves.

"Horse stables by the inn. You can find a stable hand there. Give him this note." The guard gave him a small piece of paper.

"Give the fingers to the bounty officer. Over at the notice board."

The huntsman nodded and equipped his helmet. Thinking the interview was over the huntsman started to walk away.

"Wait." The guard stopped him. The Huntsman turned his head.

"Cause any ruckus and there'll be trouble. Now move along."

And so the huntsman did just that. The huntsman saw a man sat on a bench with a small table in front of him like some sort of makeshift office. After a brief chat,the huntsman gave the man the nekker fingers in exchange for measly 2 crowns each. There was no bounty on them so the reward was severely cut. The huntsman did not complain and just took the crowns.

The huntsman approached the notice board. Worn out paper decorated it. Old notices sloppily ripped off replaced with new notices with a sun symbol on it. The symbol of Nilfgard. He looked for any contracts for monsters only to find none.

"Something interest you stranger?" A voice called out to him. He turned around to see an old man approach him. Balding, wearing brown leather armor over a green doublet and had two swords on his back. The shadows from the tree might of have made it look black back at the river. The huntsman turned his gaze back to the board.

"No monster contracts…"

"Villagers say that there used to be a contract about that griffon at the river issued by the lord. Then Niflgard came and executed the local lord.

"Hm."

They both went quiet for awhile till the old witcher spoke.

"Which school are you from? " The man answered then asked.

"School?" He looked at the old witcher beside him.

"School… as in where were you trained as a witcher?"

"I wasn't trained to be a witcher." He told the old witcher.

"Hm. You smell of monster blood. Different kinds. You weapons are all soaked in it. You have potions and oils in your waist pack. You may not have a silver sword on you but you reek of death. Like a witcher."

The huntsman stared at the witcher through his helmet. After a long moment he sighed. He removed his helmet again showing him his very human features.

It surprised the old witcher. Very human. No signs of mutation or any enhancement.

"Human. But there's something strange about you. Magic maybe?"

"Maybe. I was trained to fight monsters… didn't complete my training though. The place where I trained got destroyed. Never finished." He answered truthfully.

"I'm sorry to hear that. What was the name of this place?" The old witcher asked.

"Beacon."

"Beacon? Never heard of it."

"I don't think anyone in this did." He muttered under his breath.

"I'm a huntsman. Monsters are just what I hunt."

"So some sort of order then. Huntsmen does have a nice ring to them. Bit generic though…" he commented.

"I'm aware."

"Pretty brave… for a mere man to fight those beasts alone." He stood beside him.

" I'm used to it. With the right knowledge even a soldier can kill any monster… if said soldier had the training for it."

The huntsman faced the old witcher.

"Can I help you?" He asked. He seemed normal enough.

"Not really. Just curious about the fully armed stranger prowling about the village."

"Hm. Can't really go unarmed when travelling these days. War's stirring up monsters all over the place." The huntsman sighed.

"True. I'm sure carrying all of that is justified." The man gestured to the amount of weapons he had strapped on him.

"Weapons break easily. So I just use whatever I can find." He reasoned.

"Weapons soldiers use are low quality. They break easily. Why not use a silver or meteorite steel sword?"

"Expensive."

"Hah. Won't argue with that." The old witcher laughed.

The old witcher held his hand to the huntsman.

"Vesemir."

"Jaune." He took the witcher's hand and shook it.

"Heard witchers were an unsavory lot. You seem different." The huntsman commented.

"That's because other witchers are. Though superstition mostly. We may of have changed our bodies to accommodate this profession but our minds are as human as humans can be. Just more flexible than others. But we do tend to keep to ourselves. Normal humans have a tendency to distrust something that's seems different to them. No matter how good or bad it is."

"Yeah. Human nature is petty. But I guess that's what makes us humans. We're frail and die quick. So humans tend to be wary of everything other than themselves."

"Also greedy and aggressive." Vesemir added.

"Also greedy and aggressive." The huntsman nodded.

"What are you doing in this village?" The huntsman asked.

"Aiding an old friend of mine searching for his lost lover." Vesemir answered truthfully.

"You serious?" The huntsman tilted his head. He had always had this impression that the witchers were overly serious monster hunters, nomadic killers of beasts. Not some lovesick individual.

"Hah! I like that look. Yes I'm serious." The old witcher chuckled.

"There goes my impression on witchers." The huntsman sighed.

"Like I said. Were as human as anyone can be. Just-"

"More flexible." The huntsman let out a soft chuckle.

"Awfully trusting don't you think?" He looked at the old witcher.

"Same can be said to you. My gut tells me that your trustworthy. That and I'm getting rather bored of talking to people who either scamper away from you or insult you. It's been awhile since I had a nice conversation with anybody else other than witchers and sorceresses." The old witcher smiled at him.

The huntsman nodded.

"I have no reason to lie. That's it to be honest."

"Good enough. Say, you seem tired. Good ale and warm food can help with that. Why not have a bit of a drink? I'm in need of some good company, given the stresses of everything happening."

"Fought a few nekkers just east of here…" the huntsman sighed.

"Can't hurt I guess. Alright I'll take you up on that offer."

They both walked to the tavern. He saw men groaning on the ground beaten and bruised.

"Ignore them. Local ruffians who think they could take on a witcher." Vesemirr said.

"You did this?" He looked to the old witcher.

"No. My friend did."

"The scarred one." The huntsman tried to confirm to which Vesemir nodded.

As they entered everyone in the tavern looked at him first at the old witcher then unto him. He was carrying his helmet on his hand, figured it'd ease the people. But with the witcher's presence it was in vain. Everyone stiffened and looked away. They both sat by the window and soon the tavern wench came with drinks and food.

"So what about you?" Vesmirr asked.

"Hm?"

"What are you doing here?" Vesemir clarified.

"... I'm looking for someone." The huntsman answered.

"A woman?" The old witcher asked to which the huntsman nodded.

"Hah! And you laughed at Geralt's search. Is the view from your glass house nice?" The old witcher laughed and joked.

"Actually the view is quite nice. But yes, I'm looking for a woman. A friend. I heard that the bloody baron found a young woman near his territory and is now housing her."

"The bloody baron… People don't usually go to lengths like you do for just a friend." The old witcher smiled.

"Hm…" the huntsman went quiet.

"What did she look like?"

"Young, in her late teens or early twenties. Short, has black hair and silver eyes. She wears a red cloak. Always… and if your noses are that strong, she smells of roses and strawberries." The huntsman hoped that the witchers may have encountered the rose. He could only hope.

"Red cloak, silver eyes, and smells of roses and strawberries. Interesting…"

"Have you seen her?"

"No… sorry. I'd remember someone with those traits."

The huntsman's shoulder dropped. He looked dejected.

"It's… alright." He sighed.

"What about this woman that your friend was looking for? Might of heard something from my travels."

"Well her name is Yeniffer. Yeniffer of Vengerberg. A sorceress. Raven hear, violet eyes and wears black and white."

"Hm. Might've seen someone with that description."

"Really now? Where?" The old witcher leaned in closer.

"At a Nilfgard outpost couple weeks back. They were being sieged by endregas. Disturbed a colony. The commander kept calling for a person… well he kept calling for a sorceress." The huntsman recounted events that happened before he reached Restwood.

"And?"

"A woman came, coming out of one of the tents. Black hair and wore black and white clothes. She didn't seem like a prisoner as the Nilfgardians seemed to show respect. She used a fire spell to burn the Endregas. I didn't plan to stick around so I left." The huntsman finished.

"That does sound like Yeniffer. This was a couple of weeks back?"

The huntsman nodded.

"It matches the directions we gathered. So we're on the right path. Thank you Jaune."

"No problem. Speaking of, where's your friend? The one with the scar?"

"Geralt's currently heading to the Nilfgardian commander at black fort. Probably hoping to find some clues as to where Yeniffer's heading. Though I bet the commander's gonna ask him to kill the griffon in exchange for information."

"Aren't you gonna kill the griffon though?" The huntsman asked trying to confirm something.

"If there was a contract we could do something about it. But there isn't any. Monster killing is a dangerous profession after all so pay is to be expected."

The huntsman stared and sighed.

"I guess…"

He kept his tongue. He didn't want to bring down the mood. His code as a huntsman differed to the code of the witchers. Both are monster hunters but only one does it because they have to.

"I can see that you disagree." The witcher drank his ale.

"Just… differences in our principles. Nothing to ruin a good talk. Huntsmen kill monsters to help people. Gold or not."

"I see. Very noble. I don't have a problem with that so no need to hold it in." The old witcher smiled. The huntsman smiled as well. He really does feel like one of those rugged but fun uncles.

"Though I hope you just don't kill any and all monsters you can find. Some of them are sentient."

"I know. I've gained quite a few allied monsters myself. One was a succubus. Used her magic to ease the stresses of men. Never killed anybody. Asked for help when a bruxa started to kill all of her patrons."

The old witcher smiled. It was rare to see a pure human view monsters as individuals rather than bloodthirsty beasts.

"A bruxa you say? Tough monster to kill. How did you do it?"

"Used that fact that I was human. Let it's guard down. Then I shoved a silver dagger I borrowed from the succubus to it's heart. Gift from one of her patrons. I just kept stabbing till it died."

"Impressive." The huntsman was impressed.

"What about you? Got any tales of monsters you can share?" The huntsman smiled.

"Well there was this Echidna that was harassing a village in Skellige…"

The two continued talking of their exploits until the sun outside began to set.

/0/

"... And then before the poor sod realized he was married to a troll!" The old witcher laughed and the huntsman followed.

"I don't even wanna ask how one even brews a drink out of basilisk venom."

A clopping was heard outside the tavern.

"Huh… seems like he has arrived." Vesemirr said.

The huntsman turned towards the entrance as a man with white hair, cat-like eyes, and a full beard came in wearing a variant of Versimyr's armor. A wolf medallion hung proudly on his neck.

"Ah Geralt. Find anything?" Vesemir asked the witcher named Geralt in front of him.

"Yeah. Commander knows where Yen is but wants us to-"

"- kill the griffon in exchange for the information. Predictable." Vesemr cut off Geralt.

Geralt nodded and then stared at the blonde haired armored fellow sat opposite of his mentor. The man stood up. He towered over Geralt over and inch. On the broader side.

"Jaune Arc. Huntsman." The huntsman offered his hand to him.

"Geralt of Rivia. Witcher." The witcher shook his hand.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Both waiting for the other to say anything. It was the huntsman who spoke first.

"I must not keep you both then. Your company was enjoyable Vesemirr." The huntsman turned to Vesemir.

"As do yours Jaune." The old witcher nodded.

"Well then. I must take my leave." Before the huntsman could leave Vesemirr called out to him.

"Wait. Why not help us kill this griffon? I'm curious about how you fight." Vesemir stood and approached Jaune.

"Vesemir this is dangerous we can't have someone get in the way. He might get killed." Geralt reasoned.

"We'll take care of it if need be. Come with us Jaune." Vesemir put a hand on his shoulder.

"The huntsman looked at Vesemir then to Geralt. Geralt was opposed to the idea obviously. But listened and trusted Vesemir.

"Okay." The huntsman nodded.

"Judging from the smell of your equipment… You some kind of monster hunter?" Geralt asked.

"Yes. Though I'm not a witcher if that's what you're asking."

"Clearly. No mutations whatsoever. Medallion's not reacting so no magic or not a monster in disguise."

"Your medallion reacts to the presence of monsters?" The huntsman asked.

"Yes." The witcher nodded.

"Hm. That's useful." The huntsman commented.

"It is." The witcher agreed.

"..."

"..."

Vesemir chuckled. The two looked at Vesemir and wondered what was amusing.

"What?" Both asked at the same time prompting them to look at each other. Which only made Vesemir chuckle even more.

"Well now that that's over with. Do have any plans to catch the griffon Geralt?"

Geralt nodded.

"Talked with the hunter that tracked the beast. Griffon's male. Turns out Nilfgardians killed the griffon's mate and destroyed their eggs."

"Griffons mate with only one partner for life. Killing the mate and their offspring only makes it aggressive." The huntsman commented.

"This is why you should let the professionals handle it. Handling monsters is not as simple as just killing them outright." Vesimyr put his palm to his face.

"We could use some buckthorn to lure it. It's already getting dark. We don't have time to hunt for it. We need to lure it." The huntsman said as he looked to the windows. The outside was already dyed orange.

"Agreed. Which is why I grabbed some in advance." Geralt pulled out a foul smelling roll of wet leaves.

"There's a field close from here. Open and empty as the sun is already setting. Nobody's working there now." Vesemir added.

"Alright…"

The huntsman put on his helmet.

"Let's go kill a griffon."

a/n

- cue bfg division on nekker fight...

- "hey Jaune why are you sharpening your shield?" "To kill monsters."

- So Jaune has finally revealed his name huh? kinda anti-climatic right?

- Vesemir really does feel like one of hell of an uncle or grandpa...uncle grandpa...

- Jaune here is older than in canon as Ruby is already in her twenties. He is also realistically buff. He needed to be, to survive in this world.

- Geralt and Veteran Jaune... yeah. One looks for Lilacs and Gooseberries the other looks for Roses and Strawberries.

- Goodwitch is here?! How?! find out later =3

- The story will follow with the Witcher 3 wild hunt storyline, I hope Ya'll don't mind. More will be revealed why he doesn't use crocea mors anymore.

- Also I need suggestions for the Huntsmen base as calling it Beacon #2 kinda sucks.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it!