On death's bed

Now the merchant had been handled, it was time for him to return to his quest, to the Griffin, to finding the hunter and the herbalist. right now Geralt was half way between the Nilfgaardian garrison and a sawmill, just a bit west if Woesong bridge, where he practically needed to be for this task, but first a cabin on the road to Woesong bridge. It took him five minutes cantering to get to the little hut, passing Nilfgaardian soldiers and peasants on the path. "woah there roach!" he said slowing her down as they pulled up next to a wooden fence. As far as Geralt could tell, this was the right place, many plants and herbs growing all over the garden. with a healthy looking patch of ribleaf growing just outside the hut's door.

He entered the room to see a woman in a matching pair of wealthy red tunics and trousers. the cloth white at the sleeves while she wore similar red arm guards that protected her forearms, her brown knee high boots just seemed to be of the same condition too. The woman was peering over the table, there were jars, bags, candles and rolled up plants tied together, to their right a woman laying down on a dirty mattress with a abdomen wound. blood narrowly missing what seemed to be a bear skin rug. "Bad time?" he questioned, the woman didn't turn around, but her voice was smooth and soft, not startled by Geralts appearance. "Not at all. Hand me the beggartick. it's the..." Geralt moved to stand by her side, so she could see him through her long dark brown curly messy hair. "...red bloom. well. well. one versed in herbs" she praised pausing to stand up straight and greet Geralt. "probably saying too much...but I know a bit - for instance, that beggartick's poisonous." she replied instantly, with no fear of maybe being accused of trying to kill her patient. "in large doses. small ones soothe pain and being forth pleasant dreams" she said calmly. "which is all I can hope to do for her." Geralt turned his head to the injured woman behind them. "Griffin do that to her?" he asked. "to Lena? yes. Attacked her at night. she was walkin' in the woods." she said quickly, a pang of sympathy in her. "at night...through the woods? in wartime?" Geralt asked in disbelief, trying not to judge too harshly. "meeting a boy. The young, you know...do foolish things for love." she said, the two adults shrugging together, they'd seen too many things happen because of love. "wounds are healing, but she will die. blood's poolin' in her skull. Nothing my brews can do to help." she frowned and pointed to the woman behind her. "could try to help her with one of my potions. swallow can heal internal hemorrhages..." he told her, she knew there was more. "but...?" she prompted. "witchers' potions aren't for humans." he said. "she'll die as it is" the herbalist replied. "yes. a peaceful death, soothed by your concoctions. if I giver her Swallow and something goes wrong. the whole village will hear her screams." he said. the herbalist nodded. "I understand. do as you will." she said quietly. "looking for buckthorn. know if it grows anywhere around here?" he inquired, he had to kill this Griffin. And soon. "mhm. bottom of the river, where the channel's widest. but you do know that once out if the water..." she trailed off, Geralt filled in. "it'll stink worse than a week old carcass? counting on it." he nodded narrowing his eyes. "I'm hunting the Griffin. need the buckthorn for bait." he told her, glad he was inside and no longer fighting drowners. "I was thinkin'...a few years ago we had trouble, drowners under the bridge. while village had to pitch in for a Witcher. Who now can afford the bounty on a Griffin's head?" she asked, Geralt turning to watch her as she slowly manoeuvred around him. "Captain Peter Saar.... something something." Geralt said not remembering the full lengthy name. "Ah. Good to know the Black Ones are lookin' out for our welfare." she smiled a little. "Nilfgaard values one thing - order. Griffin's disturbing that, it's gotta go." Geralt said as he looked down at the herbalist. "yes. first they'll tend to the monsters, then to the folk." Geralt narrowed his eyes and turned his head to the side slightly. "Not from here, are you?" he assumed to which she tilted her head at him. "lot of bitterness in you. too much for someone who's spent her life in a hut in the middle of nowhere." Geralt rounded up, a sad glint in the woman's eyes. "true" she gazed down at the floor. "and you're in a hurry. Elsewise you'd not use bait, just wait for the Griffin to attack again." she said to him. "believe we could have an interesting conversation" Geralt replied rolling his shoulders. "maybe next time." she replied with a small smile.

Geralt needed to brew the Swallow potion for that woman, but he was missing ingredients. it required dwarven spirit, Celandine and Drowner brain. all alchemy ingredients in which he acquired but the last bit of Celandine he needed. he turned to Tomira "yes?" she asked."got any herbs you're willing to sell?" he asked with his hands moving. "I'm sure I can find something" she replied with a hint of teasing or maybe just flirtation in her voice. The herbalist had lots on offer, bear hides, manuscript pages, numerous alchemy ingredients and vials of such items, but he bought the Celandine he needed from her, thankfully it only cost him five crowns. "farewell"

she walked off around her hut while Geralt began to brew the potion. he walked back to the wandering Tomira when he'd finally brewed it successfully. "yes?" she asked again. "got a potion for Lena. Swallow" he said. "first sign on spring, symbol of rebirth...fitting, as names go." she replied at that nodding. "we'll see. like I said, could harm her. Deeply. works on me immediately, but I have a faster metabolism. Effects won't appear in her case for a few days." he placed his hand on his chest briefly. "Why'd you choose this in the end?" Tomira asked after a moment. "decided it was better than doing nothing" he replied flatly. "I like you Witcher. Here - a small gift. for giving a damn" she smiled handing him 50 crowns and 2 portions of venom extract. Before he made his journey out of the hut he went back to see what she had for sale one more time, Balisse fruit, an Emory bottle and a Nilfgaardian lemon. all alchemy ingredients too. "farewell"

He left the hut and mounted Roach who was nibbling on a patch of grass outside. five minutes went by and he'd ridden across mostly fields until he approached another cabin that looked similar to Tomira's, however a little smaller. guess a hunters life didn't pay as much as a herbalists. "Anyone home?" Geralt asked knocking on the wooden door. "must be out hunting" he concluded after standing there for two minutes without hearing anything from inside. He turned back around to the worn down path that left the cabin, large footprints imprinted into the ground. "Trail's fresh. Mislav just left home." he mumbled to himself. the footprints led him just off of the main path before bringing him back to it, strange. why hadn't he just walked in a straight line. After a minute they were leading him away from the road and further into the wilds, into a grassier terrain, with more plants and more trees, thats where he found him, in an open spot, crouched down onto one knee, wearing a green tunic, brown trousers. a bow and quiver strung yo his back. "you Mislav?" Geralt asked approaching the dark haired man from behind. "shhh" the man hushed, raising his right hand up to signal Geralt to be quiet, it was then Geralt noticed the tattoos on the man, at least two swords tattooed along his forearm. all the way from his wrist to half way up his arm, and on his right hand, under each knuckle were triangles with little small horizontal lines above the point of each one, he wondered what they meant. "hear that?" Mislav asked. Geralt looked in the same direction and narrowed his eyes "Wolves? No - wild dogs." he turned back to look at the hunter as he stood to his feet. "yes...more dangerous than wolves." Mislav fully turned to Geralt, and he could say he'd seen much more handsome men, he had a rugged look about him, aged, but at least that mean he was hopefully dealing with an experienced hunter. "dogs more dangerous than wolves? Don't think so." Geralt questioned. "it's the truth. know why?" Mislav raised his left arm, allowing Geralt to see he had markings on that one too, a black anchor just above his wrist on his outer forearm and above that a spade, from a deck of cards. "No, but I guess you're about to tell me?" he replied with anyway. "Wolves hunt to fill their bellies. Wild dogs kill for sport." Mislav told him inderd, anyway. "just like humans" Geralt cocked his head to the side a little. "Aye, they've learned much from us. Why not cruelty, too?" Mislav shrugged. "I'm hunting bigger game. The Nilfgaardians the Griffin killed - where'd you find them?" he shifted from foot to foot. "Ah, I see...you a Witcher? That monster slayer they's talkin' about in the village?" Mislav clicked on. "Mhm" Was only Geralt's reply, the two men turned to look to the side, the wild dogs barking in the distance. "I'll show you, sure. but, er, I gotta kill those mutts 'fore they hurt someone." Geralt and Mislav stared at each other. "will you help? that is, if you don't mind bluntin' your silver blades on 'em." he asked hesitantly. "sure. Griffin's not going anywhere." Geralt agreed. "No. dogs might, though. so stro careful, now. come on."

Mislav turned and began walking, Geralt following behind him. "these dogs been a problem for a wild now?" He asked. "since the war started" Mislav replied as they began running across the grass. "soldier on the march. he'll stop to rape a woman, strangle 'er, kill her man for a chuckle, even butcher a Coe. but a dog? a kick in passin', no more." they continued to run, Geralt in silence. "so these stray mutts from packs. They're gaunt, guts stuck to their spines, covered in scabies...but they just won't die." the jogged on. "cause they're clever. more so than foxes. and they hate men somethin' fierce." Mislav said. Geralt drew his sword and Mislav his bow. "too late. attacked another one" he groaned. Geralt could see them in the distance, two wild dogs side by side at the moment, charging towards him as he suddenly appeared from behind a tree with his long silver sword drawn. they were fast, quick, one lunged at Geralt immediately, jaws snapping at his forearm, good thing he'd cast Quen moments before. the two dogs surrounded Geralt, circling him like food. Geralt turned and swung his sword down quickly on the wild dog that was behind him. his blade striking the stomach. a few quick strikes and the other was killed. Geralt was about to strike a final blow to another wild dog when an arrow came from nowhere and struck the animal in the neck sending it collapsing to the floor beside Geralt's feet. good. Mislav was skilled with a bow at least. Geralt swung his silver sword at the dogs twice, it whimpering and backing away as Mislav circled around them from a distance only having a long ranged weapon. "Ugh...that stench" Geralt complained after the last wild dog fell dead five minutes later. He sheathed his silver sword and started making his way around the dead animals. He gathered raw meat off one, and a few other useful items.

He jogged his way back over to Mislav to see what they had talked about earlier, a dead body was in the grass, blue trousers and a stitched up brown vest, covered in blood, the man's face was covered in blood, and his body bathed in a pool of it around him. "Dieter..." Mislav said softly. "you know him?" Geralt asked standing beside the hunter, careful where he was treading with his boots. "we served at the lord's manor together, where the black army's encamped now. he was a stable hand, I was the lord's hunter." there was a little emotion in him, restrained. "but that was before...well, a long time ago." he mumbled, his eyes fixed on the dead man. "before what?" Geralt prompted. "before they drove me from the village" he answered quickly, eyebrows furrowing. "What'd you do?" Geralt almost scolded. "Nothin'. I'm a freak." he replied almost as quick as his previous reply, shaking his head. "sorry, I'd rather not talk about it." he apologised to Geralt. "I'm a freak, too" Geralt said staring at Mislav. "Aye. but of another kind" Mislav said looking up to the Witcher briefly. "if it's Lycanthropy, I can help." He said to the hunter. "what?" Mislav asked confused. "Lycanthropy. werewolves? handled a few cases in the past. it's usually a simple curse that..." he said, trailing off as Mislav hung his head a little, eyes remained on Geralt. "the lord's son, Florian, and I...we loved each other." he looked away ashamed, upset. "Dieter walked in on us in the stables. they drove me away...Florian hanged himself. lord started drinkin', and the estate fell into ruin. that's the long and short of it." he looked up. "I'm sorry" Geralt said. "Ah, ancient history now" Mislav said looking back up to the other man. "I was to show you where I found the Nilfgaardians. come." Mislav told him. And so they walked on again, Geralt following Mislav again, now back to his primary goal of hunting the Griffin.