Damn the moment he decided to take that job. Fenris thought, looking at the burning village before him.

That was supposed to be an easy night, finding the Ghouls who were attacking the villagers in the cemetery, killing them and then collecting his reward. He only went out for a few hours and what he saw when he came back was nowhere near what he expected.

While he was gone, a group of deserting soldiers from Nilfgaard attacked, taking everything they could.

Being a witcher, he didn't care about such nonsense, as he would only stay there for a night or two to collect his money and then leave before anyone bothered him enough to end up lifeless. But it seemed that fate was playing tricks on him again.

"Shit. I'm not gonna get my money." Fenris grumbled, dodging an oncoming sword and slashing one of the attackers with his own. There was fire and screaming everywhere, and his mind was full of worries about you, probably in one of those burning buildings. But he also knew that you were capable of taking care of yourself, he wouldn't have brought you here otherwise.