[ EU ] Geralt of Rivia comes across a remote village plagued by the arrival of a single Xenomorph .

`` Woah Roach'' 
 
 Geralt pulled the reins gently, coaxing Roach to ease into a slow walk. 
 There was something about this village that seemed off. The air smelled wrong, foul somehow. Geralt was used to dealing with a myriad of vile creatures but this seemed different than anything he had sensed before. It was an average poor town, a few shanty hovels among the muck of the rainy season, a lone smithy and of course, a tavern, Geralts first port of call for information. 
 Loosely tying Roach to a pillar outside, Geralt strode confidently into the dimly lit tavern, his eyes quickly adjusting to the low light, dilating like a cats to take in the finer details. 
 There were two drunks in the far left, playing Gwent by the light of the fireplace, slapping down and retrieving bets with gusto. They looked like stocky, good-natured country folk, and Geralt considered joining them for a moment, but he had business to attend to first. He walked up to the counter and greeted the innkeep firmly. 
 
 `` I track a griffon that was sighted due east of here, have you seen it?'' 
 
 The innkeep shook her head. 
 
 `` No we havent seen a thing. But the village has been stricken by a strange plague, starting with John, the butchers boy. A strange creature has affixed itself to his face, and he lays as if asleep''. 
 
 The witcher stared at her confused, trying to match up the description of a creature that attacks the face with the thousands of lore books he had committed to memory. Perhaps a type of alp or katakan he had n't previously encountered. Geralt made a mental note to check his supply of black blood and vampire oils for his silver sword. 
 
 `` Where is this boy?'' Geralt asked, laying aside his plans for the griffin. This curiosity would take precedent. Perhaps it would be a new creature to transcribe into his annuals at Kaer Morhen. 
 
 The innkeep beckoned him to the back door of the inn, opening it wide for him before quickly following him through. It opened on a dimly lit passage between the inn and another house, just tight enough to walk single file. The innkeep gave him verbal directions from behind. 
 
 `` Up here... now take a left... That building up ahead is the healer, Rosemary's hut.'' 
 
 Free from the tight maze of cottages Geralt emerged in front of a small house with a herb garden outside, the unmistakable hallmarks of an alchemist; drying herbs and ingredients gathered neatly and hanging from every available alcove. 
 
 He knocked and the healer opened the door, visibly scanning him up and down to assess his merit. Geralt made an effort to brazenly do the same even though he could easily observe her undetected. She was a head shorter than him, her plump body spilling attractively out of the corset she had loosely tied about her waist. Long red hair spilled heavily like blood across her shoulders, which she had tried in vain to gather with a single blue ribbon. There was an eager sparkle in her eye that reminded him of Triss. 
 
 `` Ahh a Witcher. Just what we need. Come in.'' She nodded approvingly, moving aside to allow him in. 
 
 `` My kind is not used to a welcome'', Geralt mused, mostly to himself. 
 
 `` That may be but I've exhausted my knowledge how to help this poor boy'', she said exasperatedly, gesturing towards a small cot bed in the corner. 
 
 Geralt felt his breath catch in his throat at the peculiar sight. This was indeed new. A boy of maybe 14 or 15 years lay flat out on the bed, breathing heavily but otherwise immobile. His face was obscured by what appeared to be a mask of flesh and scale, covering his face entirely, with a tail like component coiled tightly around his neck. 
 
 Geralt drew his silver sword and nudged the creature on the boys face but there was no singed flesh, no reaction. Not a magical creature then. Over the next four hours the witcher created oils and potions, applying them to no reaction, meditating on what to do. He did n't want to harm the boy but he realised he would need to use signs to repel the creature. 
 
 He tried a gentle push with Aard. The creature moved in response but instead of being repelled it coiled tighter around the boys throat. Alarmed Geralt stopped and meditated to find the correct answer. Eventually, using a combination of Quen and Igni Geralt lay on the boys body, hoping the Quen would cover enough of himself to provide similar protection, before directing a concentrated blast of Igni. 
 
 The creature squealed and its blood boiled, flying off in various directions. A drop hit the floor beside the boy and dissolved right through the floorboards. Having weakened the creature enough, Geralt managed to push it away with Aard to protect the boys face from any acidic blood splatter. The creature shrivelled in the corner and died, as the boy spluttered and took his first gasps of clear air. 
 
 Geralt gave John a few hardy slaps on the back to clear his windpipe. 
 `` You'll be fine lad'', he assured him. 
 
 The villagers were overwhelmed but the had little to pay him. The healer Rosemary was particularly pleased and Geralt stayed the night. Sometimes simple payments are the best. 
 
 Geralt woke to a familiar feeling; a woman tracing his scars with her finger while he slept. He turned to see Rosemary looking at his welted back in awe. She blushed when he caught her eye, the same red as her rosy little mouth. He could stay a while. 
 
 He woke again around noon to an empty bed and a large commotion outside. Villagers shouting in panicked voices. He dressed quickly, arming himself with his two swords and a crossbow sling loosely at the waist for good measure, all the while using his finely tuned senses to listen to the voices outside. 
 
 `` What's going on?'' 
 
 `` I thought he was better'' 
 
 `` Oh my poor boy, wo n't somebody help him??'' 
 
 `` Get the witcher, he did this!'' 
 
 Sighing at the last comment, Geralt pushed open the door of the healers hut to greet the crowd. 
 `` What is it?'' He asked simply. 
 
 A short, authoritative looking man stepped forward, likely the mayor. 
 `` Its John, he's having a fit'', he spat accusingly at Geralt. 
 
 `` Take me to him, quickly.'' Geralt replied, not waiting for an answer, striding towards the mayor. 
 
 `` R-Right, well this way, come on now'', he faltered, not having gotten the response he had anticipated. 
 
 John twitched and shook where he lay on the inn floor, as if possessed by a hym. His tongue lopped lifelessly in his head as he spluttered like a fish out of water. Geralt sensed something move inside John's shirt, and quickly switched to his enhanced senses. Two heart beats? But how.. 
 
 Before he had finished his thought process the boys chest lurched upwards, with a sickening crack as his back broke, killing him instantly. Despite this his body continued to buckle and writhe as the villagers screamed in terror. Geralt drew his sword and readied Igni as a small black creature burst violently from the boys stomach, screaming the visceral cry of a newborn. It was sleek and almost polished looking, dripping in acid and the boys own entrails. Geralt could see no eyes, only a wide sharp mouth and razor sharp claws. 
 
 `` Igni'' he screamed internally, willing the flames from his fingertips towards the unholy creature, missing it by a hairs breath as it scuttled with an unnatural speed for a newborn up the unlit fireplace and out into the village. 
 
 `` Whoreson!'' Geralt cursed, pushing his way past the thick crowd of stunned onlookers in a vain attempt to get outside before it escaped. 
 
 Outside was quiet of course, and a heavy rain started to fall, obscuring the trail of blood Geralt sensed from the creature. He would have to track it immediately before the trail went cold. Whistling for Roach he put one leg into the stirrup, swinging himself upright as Roach broke into a gallop. The hunt was on 
 

