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…