Letho, dressed in his trademark leather armor, with open sleeves and a hooded cloak on his head, which not only protected him from the wind, but also hid his many scars and stern face, wandered along the border between Aedirn and Kaedwen in search of any next contract. The air was tense, saturated with the unspoken secrets of the North, forcing the experienced witcher's senses to be always on the alert. He had been on the road for several weeks, moving from village to village, looking for any opportunity to earn some extra money.

Unfortunately, his attempts were in vain, in some places there were no orders at all, in others the orders were trivial and gave too little pay for the work, and in others the witcher was not accepted at all and was told to get lost. The path of a witcher was never easy, but Letho was ready to face any trials that lay ahead. He knew that sooner or later work would come his way, but finding it in this remote corner of the world turned out to be more difficult than he had expected. Finally, he got his chance in the form of a contract to kill a griffin that had taken up residence in the vicinity of the local plain and was terrorizing the merchant convoys and travelers passing through there.