"Roars…" she said, her voice low, each syllable hanging in the stale air like a warning.
She paused, her gaze distant, as though she were pulling mories from a place she’d rather not revisit. The room seed to grow colder, the flickering candlelight casting restless shadows on the cottage walls.
"They were not always monsters," she began, her tone tinged with sothing that might have been sorrow or resignation. "Once, they were the lifeblood of Ithelvaire... the alchemists and their loyal hounds, celebrated for their craft and devotion. But Yadred’s corruption spared no one."
She leaned closer to the table, tracing a finger over a spot on the map labeled Shroudspire Warrens. " This place… beneath the ruins of Ithelvaire, is where it began. A thriving hub of trade and alchemy, it was the envy of empires. Then Yadred fell to the Void Hands, and the Warrens beca a tomb. The alchemists who had sought to protect the city instead beca the first Roars, twisted by his Grieving Blight."
Her voice softened, almost a whisper. "Their souls were consud, their bodies reshaped. What remains of them now… isn’t human."
I studied her face, but it betrayed no emotion, only the weight of grim knowledge. "What do they look like now?" I asked, though the answer felt heavy in the air between us.
"Their skin," she said slowly, "is no longer skin. It’s a tar-like substance, alive with dark energy. Their eyes… pale, ash-blue, glowing faintly, are the last echoes of who they were. And those eyes," her voice hardened slightly, "are their deadliest weapon."
I frowned. "Their eyes?"
She nodded, her expression grim. "One glance into those blue eyes, and your existence is burnt. Not just your body.. your very soul. You’ll be gone. Erased from the world, as though you were never here."
The weight of her words settled heavily in my chest, but I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue.
"They hunt with intelligently, not mindless instinct. Their senses are sharp... sharp enough to detect even the faintest breath or movent. Illusions won’t work. Cloaking won’t work. If they catch your scent, there’s no hiding."
Her hand moved back to the map, her finger circling the darkened area she’d shown earlier. "This region holds only a few of them. Their main zone is deeper in the Warrens, but even here, you’ll be walking a razor’s edge."
"And their attacks?" I asked, my voice calm despite the unease building within .
"Their tails," she replied. " Morphed into serpent-like appendages, striking with venom that eats through armor and flesh. But it’s not just the physical damage that kills."
I arched a brow. "What else?"
"The venom induces hallucinations," she said, her voice calm though a little sharper now. "It makes you see things.. hear things. You’ll think you’re being hunted by darkness, driven into a madness so deep you might kill yourself just to escape it."
I exhaled slowly, my mind racing to piece together a plan.
"They don’t just rely on brute force," she added. "They’re clever. They mimic the voices of loved ones, familiar sounds... anything to lure their prey into a trap. If you hear soone you recognize in the Warrens… it’s not them."
Her words settled like a stone in my gut.
"Here you are, telling to hunt them," I said, my voice flat.
"You asked how to get stronger," she replied simply, her brown eyes locking onto mine. "This is the path you chose. To evolve, you need their larvae. There is no other way."
I looked back at the map, the faint outlines of the Warrens etched like veins on old parchnt. The oppressive darkness of the place seed to seep into the very air of this room.
"What else should I know?" I asked after a mont, my voice calm despite the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.
"For what else you should know…" she began, each word deliberate, as though she were asuring its significance. Her eyes, steady, stayed fixed on mine.
"They are not invincible," she continued, "but their weaknesses are as elusive as the creatures themselves. To defeat them, patience and preparation are not just helpful.. they are your lifeline."
Her finger traced over the darkened region of the Shroudspire Warrens. "At the heart of every Roar lies its core... an orb of dark essence embedded in their chest. Strike it, and you kill them. But there’s a catch."
She turned to face fully, her expression stern. "You’ll only get one chance. They’re cunning, and their senses are unparalleled. If they see you coming, you’re already dead."
I didn’t flinch, but her words settled heavily in my chest. "How do I get close enough without them noticing?"
"Stillness," she replied. "They rely on movent to track their prey. If you remain perfectly still, you might confuse them for a mont, but it won’t last long. They’re quick to adapt."
Her gaze flicked to the map again, her finger lingering on the border of the Warrens. "An ambush is your best option. A flawless ambush. Strike their core before they even know you’re there."
I considered this, my mind already formulating possibilities. "And if I fail?"
"You won’t get a second chance," she said bluntly, her tone leaving no room for argunt.
I exhaled through my nose, nodding slightly. "I’ll need more than just luck and timing to make that happen."
She straightened, her hands clasped in front of her. "There is sothing that might help. The Lantern of Aureal. It’s an artifact... an ancient one... that emits a golden glow capable of weakening the Roars’ detection. With it, you can mask your movents and blind them temporarily if needed."
"Where can I find this lantern?" I asked, my voice calm, though anticipation coiled in my chest.
Her lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Instead of answering, she raised her hands into the air. Darkness gathered around her fingers, an ash-black energy spiraling outward as though she were pulling it from the void itself. The darkness deepened, the air growing heavy and oppressive, until a faint golden light began to pierce through the gloom.
From the swirling darkness erged a lantern... small and unassuming, its fra tarnished with age, yet glowing faintly with a golden hue that seed to defy the oppressive shadows around it.
She lowered her hands, the lantern resting in her palms. With a deliberate motion, she placed it on the table between us. "It’s already settled," she said simply.
I stepped closer, the lantern’s glow casting a faint warmth against my skin. I reached out, my fingers brushing its surface, cool and smooth despite its weathered appearance. I lifted it carefully, the light flickering faintly within its glass enclosure.
" I should get going," I said, turning toward her.
"Before I do," I added, glancing back at her. "What’s may I call you?"
She hesitated for a mont before replying, "Geralda."
The na tugged at sothing in my mory. "Geralda," I repeated, my voice quieter. "Are you… Geralt’s sibling?"
She didn’t answer imdiately, but her slight nod was enough.
I nodded in return, the pieces falling into place. Without another word, I walked to the door, the lantern’s glow faintly illuminating the path ahead.
As my hand reached for the door, her voice stopped . "We will et at this sa cottage in three days," she said, her tone calm, but laced with sothing unspoken. "Be careful." She hesitated for the first ti, her lips parting as though to speak but closing again. Then, finally, she said, "There’s no guarantee you’ll survive. But if you do… you won’t be the sa."
I didn’t answer, only nodding in acknowledgnt as I stepped outside. The door creaked closed behind , the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.
The golden light of the lantern cast faint shadows on the path ahead, but its warmth did little to dispel the cold weight settling in my chest. I would need every advantage I could muster.
The Roars waited.
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