"Confess thief!" Manure stained pitchfork barbs pressed firmly against your throat; the shaft led down to a grubby farmer's fat fingers wrapped firmly around it.

"Don't you know there's a war going on!" A voice called from the back of the still amassing crowd, a crowd that witch hunted and blamed you for the theft of grain even though you had nothing to do with it. "Yeah!" The crowd yelled in thundering unison, it seemed like the whole village had gathered to watch your head be put on a pike.

"So that isn't my grain your stealing, it's the kings. I don't know about you, but I don't want those bastard Nilfgardiaans taking over and ruining our lives!" There was nowhere to go and not a moment of silence to try any sort of reason, you were a unrecognized face in the township and as such you were to blame, not the infestation of seemingly demonic creatures. From the back of the crowd the rowdy onlookers began to separate, until the group was split in two and a white haired, amber eyed man stood between them.

"What's going on here?" His rumbling voice instantly silenced the crowd much to the displeasure of the farmhand who had now placed his pitchfork against the leather jerkin of your savior.

"You don't get to come here and ask the questions, who the fuck are you?" The prongs pushed further and further into his chest piece, with each push he became more and more agitated.

"I'm Geralt of Rivia."

"I've heard of you, quite an infamous Witcher I hear. Or was it a Butcher?" The farmer and crowd shared a bellowing laugh, but they quickly conceded when Geralt grabbed the shaft of the pitchfork and snapped it in two. "You can fucking pay for that!"
"Hmm." Geralt pushed past the red faced farmer and stood as a shield between you and the accusation. "Again, tell me what's going on here."

"This bitch is stealing our crops!" With each word he grew angrier and angrier, Geralt stood steadfast as the farmer tried his best to grab you. "And the stupid cunts going to hang for it!" The crowd cheered once more at the thought of you hanging from the gallows.

"What proof do you have?" One hand sat on your chest, making sure that you didn't try and escape and the other stood guarding you from the townspeople. "Nothing?"

"No... well they came and it started disappearing didn't it so who else is it going to fucking be?" Geralt turned to you and you shared a look of confusion.

"You didn't steal it did you?" He whispered in his low, gruffly voice, you shook your head and he nodded in approval. "They're coming with me, if anybody lays a finger on them as I'm escorting them to the road you will lose said finger.

"You cant do that! Who made you the law?" A horrific crack followed the farmer grabbing onto the Witcher's shoulder and a deafening yelp followed that.

~*~

Written by Aaron.