In these three years of rigorous training and experimentation, Geralt carefully brewed and shared his body strengthening and mana absorption limit increasing potions with his closest mentors and family—Visenna and Vesemir—each receiving effects tailored to their unique constitutions.
Visenna, a seasoned sorceress whose magical capabilities stemmed from innate talent and long study, found only modest benefits from the body strengthening potions. While the enhancements did improve her physical endurance, their impact paled compared to their profound effect on younger, less conditioned bodies like Geralt's. However, the mana absorption limit increasing potion proved transformative for her. Upon consuming it, her maximum magical reserves expanded significantly, providing fresh vigor to her spellcasting and enabling her to maintain powerful protective wards and complex alchemical rituals longer and more effectively. Geralt marveled as his mother's aura shimmered with brighter intensity in the days following each dosage, a visible testament to the potion's potency.
Status
Name : Visenna
Profession : Sorceress
Health: 100/100
Strength : 35/35
Mana : 7000/7000
Vesemir, the experienced witcher and stalwart mentor, responded differently. The body strengthening potions rekindled his waning physical power, restoring muscle firmness and reflex sharpness that had dulled with age. His sword strikes regained a weight and speed once thought lost to time. Surprisingly, however, the mana absorption potions had little effect on him—his magical reserves and capacity remained largely unchanged, perhaps due to Witchers' mutagenic alterations making them less reliant on arcane energy or limiting magical potential. Vesemir chuckled one evening, shaking his head and saying, "Magic's not in me like yours or Visenna's. But this strength potion? Made me feel reborn in my battles."
Status
Name : Vesemir
Profession : Witcher
Health: 100/100
Strength : 120/120
Mana : 500/500
When asked about the origin of these potent recipes, Geralt humbly recounted their discovery: "I found them hidden in fragmented scrap pages within Kaer Morhen's old library—forgotten notes by ancient alchemists experimenting with combining mutagens and sorcerous elixirs. I pieced them together and refined the brews through trial. It's as if destiny hid them waiting for the right hands."
The year 1224 brought a momentous decision to Kaer Morhen. In the great hall, beneath banners bearing the wolf's head, Vesemir addressed his five apprentice witchers—Geralt, Eskel, Jacob, Dick, and Vicky—while Visenna stood beside him, her healer's satchel already prepared.
"The time has come," Vesemir announced, his weathered face grave with purpose, "to test your skills in the world beyond these walls. We will descend the mountain paths and seek contracts as a group. You five will work as apprentice witchers under my guidance, while Visenna will offer her services as a skilled herbalist to the common folk."
The decision had been weeks in the making. After three years of intensive training following their successful Trial of the Grasses, the apprentices had mastered combat forms, Sign casting, and monster lore. Their enhanced strength—bolstered by years of carefully administered potions—marked them as formidable warriors despite their youth. But theory and practice within Kaer Morhen's walls could only carry them so far.
"The world below fears witchers," Visenna added, her voice carrying maternal concern mixed with practical wisdom. "Villages that need our help may turn us away if they see too many of us arriving openly. We must be strategic."
Geralt exchanged glances with his brothers. They had discussed this possibility during their private planning sessions, and he had prepared for exactly this scenario. Reaching into his enchanted storage pouch, he withdrew five carefully crafted items—the Disguise Masks he had purchased with his Destiny Points.
"These will help," he said, distributing one mask to each of his friends. The masks were elegant constructions of treated leather and silver threading, inscribed with subtle runes that shimmered when touched. "I found the crafting instructions in the old library archives. They provide high-level protection against magical detection and alter our appearance to mundane eyes."
Eskel examined his mask with professional interest. The leather felt supple yet strong, and the silver threading hummed with contained magic. "How do they work?"
"Put them on and concentrate on the identity you wish to project," Geralt explained. "The enchantment will adjust your features, conceal your witcher mutations, and mask the magical aura of your medallions. To observers, we'll appear as an ordinary mercenary company."
Vicky tested his mask first, pressing it against his face and focusing his thoughts. Immediately, his silvered hair darkened to brown, his golden eyes shifted to hazel, and the subtle supernatural grace of his movements became merely human agility. Even his scent changed, no longer carrying the distinctive alchemical traces of a witcher.
"Remarkable," Vesemir observed. "The craftsmanship rivals the work of master enchanters. Where exactly did you find these instructions?"
Geralt maintained his practiced story. "Scattered notes in the deepest archives, likely left by witchers who needed to travel incognito. I spent months piecing together the formula and gathering the materials."
One by one, the others tested their masks. Dick's cheerful features became those of a seasoned sellsword, while Jacob transformed into a scholarly warrior-priest. Eskel adopted the appearance of a grizzled veteran mercenary, his steady demeanor perfectly suited to the role.
"Perfect," Visenna said approvingly. "With these disguises, you can approach settlements as hired protection rather than witchers. People are more likely to accept mercenaries than monster hunters—especially young ones."
Vesemir nodded his agreement. "Our story will be simple: I'm a retired soldier turned mercenary captain, Visenna is our company's herbalist and healer, and you five are my apprentice fighters seeking experience. We take contracts for both monster hunting and general protection work."
Over the following days, they refined their cover identities and practiced their roles. Geralt became "Gerald," a young warrior with unusual insight into monster behavior. Eskel transformed into "Erik," the reliable second-in-command. Jacob adopted the persona of "James," an innovative tactician. Dick became "Daniel," the company's diplomat and morale keeper. Vicky chose "Victor," a quiet scholar-fighter with keen observational skills.
They practiced walking, talking, and fighting in character, ensuring their performances would withstand scrutiny. The Disguise Masks proved remarkably sophisticated—not only altering appearance but subtly influencing mannerisms and speech patterns to match their assumed identities.
"The enchantment works on multiple levels," Geralt explained during one training session. "Physical appearance, magical aura, even subconscious behavioral cues. As long as we wear them consistently and maintain our stories, detection should be nearly impossible."
Visenna prepared her own supplies with equal care. Her herbalist's kit contained traditional healing supplies alongside carefully concealed magical implements. She would offer genuine medical aid to villagers while gathering intelligence about local monster problems and political tensions.
"Remember," she reminded them during their final planning meeting, "we're not just testing your combat skills. This is about learning to navigate human society, to understand the fears and needs of the people we're sworn to protect. Every interaction teaches us something valuable."
As they prepared for departure, Geralt felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation. For the first time since childhood, he would venture beyond the protective walls of Kaer Morhen into a world that viewed witchers with suspicion and fear. But surrounded by his brothers, guided by Vesemir's wisdom, and protected by his mother's love, he felt ready for whatever challenges awaited.
The morning of their departure dawned clear and cold. Seven figures descended the mountain paths—a small mercenary company seeking their fortune in the wider world. Behind their masks and assumed identities, five of the youngest witchers ever trained carried with them the hopes and traditions of the School of the Wolf, ready to prove themselves worthy of the medallions they wore hidden beneath mundane clothing.
The real test of their training was about to begin.