Prologue: A Witch Hunter in Mulbrydale

My name is Nicholas. I was born in Velen, a province of Temeria, and spent my formative years in poverty and farms, toiling for such little pay it hardly felt worth it.

But all that changed when on my twenty fifth birthday, some odd people rode into town. I lived in a small town called Mulbrydale, and we hardly got visitors, especially not villagers like this. They carried weapons, and cast suspicious looks at everyone.

Our village was constantly besieged by Nilfgaardians, and as such we were living in poor conditions.

The visitors went from door to door asking for all young men between ages 18 and 30. I was 25, and selected quickly. The visitors gave my family a bit of coin, and then they told us boys why they wanted us.

They were witch hunters, people who seek and kill witches and other non humans. To me, this felt like a calling of some sort. I was beyond thrilled to begin working.

———

Now, two weeks from my twenty sixth birthday, I was approached by a captain in our ranks.

“Nicholas! You’ve done a fine job with our men in the countryside. I’m sending you and a few of your mates to Novigrad. That’s where the big fishes are. The sorceresses.” the captain grinned.

“Novigrad! I’ve always wanted to go.” I grinned back.

“Well, now you can go and help keep this kingdom safe from those bitches.” the captain said, and then trudged off. I gathered my gear quickly. I had a steel sword, a set of dimeritum handcuffs, and rope, along with some light armor. I packed it all up, and carried my things over to my horse, who snorted when I patted his neck.

I packed my things into his saddlebags, and swung a leg up. Two of my mates, Nathaniel and Martin, rushed up with their packs, too, and saddled up their own horses. With broad grins and euphoric laughter, we set off at a gallop towards our future in Novigrad.