Hard times have come
War, invaders and betrayals,
Kings die one by one
Someone is burned every day
Mages hide from witch hunters
Elves and gnomes try to survive
The madman rules the entire country
Bandits take no one alive
As people fight each other
More dark creatures now appear
The death riders cross the land
And the villagers are full of fear
The only hope for common people:
Hiring slayers of dark beasts
They are hunters, demon killers
Pay them gold and you will live
Specters, ghouls, succubus, dopplers,
Leshens, chorts or even djinn
The Witchers knowledge of these monsters
Is much greater than you think
Special oil to kill griffins
Or a potion for vampires
Bombs to clear nests and lairs
Witchers are prepared for fights
They wander the roads
Always looking for a job
With two swords and the strangest eyes
Not humans anymore
Witchers are despised by people
They make use of certain magic
Simple sings, hand gestures
That sometimes can save somebody
In their childhood through a ritual
The witcher’s body was changed for fights
To hunt down inhuman prey
And survive their deadly bites
Their cat eyes can see in the dark,
There are no diseases that they fear,
They can follow you by smell
Any sounds will be heard
Sirens, hags, werewolf’s and godlings
Ice giants and katakans
The Witcher’s job is to hunt for monsters
It doesn’t matter who they are
You can spit and call them ugly
Even push them from your door
But when the monsters catch you
No one will hear your call…
No one will hear your call…
