Chapter 61

"I apologize for that earlier display. Pleased to meet you, Master Witcher. My name is Ivar and I have the humble pleasure of wintering with you and learning from your-" Ivar tried to politely introduce himself before he was cut off.

Lambert scoffed, interrupting Ivar before he could finish. "Who let in the weasel? Didn't know we were keeping pets, old man." He spoke to Vesemir, almost completely ignoring Ivar.

"That's insulting to Dogmeat here." I spoke up. Dogmeat just sat there and tilted her head before letting out a little whine.

"I wasn't talking about the mutt. And who are you supposed to be?" His eyes focused in on my own eyes, then glanced down at my medallion, then back up to my face, all in barely a second. "Huh. A Griffin? Haven't seen any of your kind in a long time. Did Coën tell you about this place?"

I grimaced, "He did… but sadly he is no longer among us." I said as I indicated the medallion at my side to him. "He died during the Battle of Brenna. A medic in Oxenfurt gave me this."

Lambert pursed his lips, and his eyes narrowed. "So the old bird finally bit it. Shame, he was a decent fellow. Good friend. Another one to add to the list." His posture relaxed somewhat. "Thanks for taking care of his stuff."

"It was the least I could do. My memories of him are hazy at best due to reasons, but he was a good man," I agreed.

Vesemir stepped between us. "There'll be plenty of time for histories and stories later. Let's get you settled in, Lambert. There's a lot that's happened that you need to know about."

"Oh great, another group chat. Those are always fun." Lambert grumbled and muttered, but shucked his sword harness and hung it up on a wall hook. "Let's head to the kitchen, these talks are always better over some grub. Any stew in the pot?"

"You're in luck! We still have some forktail offal left if you're interested along with a fine selection of spirits from Ard Carraigh. You have a preferred brand?" Ivar spoke up.

Lambert paused with a smirk before he pointed to Ivar. "You right now are my new best friend, weasel. Or at least until I'm sober."

"Thank you! And the name's Ivar, not weasel."

"I'll call you whatever the hell I want, and you'll like it!"

Lambert everybody, isn't he just a treat?

---

As irreverent and abrasive as Lambert could be, and mostly was, even he dialed it back a bit while Vesemir filled him in on recent events though he did add the occasional snarky comment.

When it came to the Bastion he suddenly became serious, "They've been put to rest? You're absolutely positive?" Lambert asked Vesemir and I after we told him about the events at the Bastion.

"As far as we know, follow-up visits haven't found any new signs of the hauntings," I replied.

Lambert smirked. "Huh, I knew we kept those old pieces of junk around for a reason. Good thinking with the spirit lamp." He took a deep breath. "Mind if I borrow it tomorrow? I, uh, want to confirm it for myself."

"It belongs to the school and you are of the school so it's not an issue… as long as you fill out the paperwork." Vesemir said with an evil smile, met by Lambert's own frown. "Ivar here has made compelling reasons why we need to get our bureaucracy up to snuff."

"Ah, shit," Lambert cursed. "Not having paperwork anymore was probably the only good thing to come out of the attack. Fuckin' scholars…" his cursing trailed off into unintelligible grumbling.

"Seriously though, you can take the lamp to check yourself. No trouble there." Vesemir said with an understanding look. "Just don't break it or anything and be sure not to stay out in the cold too long."

"Is Grandpa Vesemir worried I'll catch a sniffle now? I'll be fine." His eyes hardened a bit. "Though I'm more worried about how apparently Leo will be going through his Trial soon if you raided the old cave of nightmares. Not enough mass graves for your taste?"

"As I assured Leo, the Trial won't happen unless I'm sure the process is refined as it can possibly be and Vesemir's mage contact shows up to assist." I interjected before an argument could crop up.

"Oh great, Merigold's coming then. And here I was hoping for a peaceful winter." He took a long drink of ale before looking towards Leo. "Kid, I didn't have a choice in this crap but you can still walk away. I wish I had."

Lambert stood up from his stool and stretched, his back popping in the process. He gave a massive yawn. "It's been a long day. Gonna get my stuff unpacked, take a bath, and go to bed early. Is the boiler going?"

"Y-yeah. Last time I checked at least." Leo answered a little awkwardly. "I'll go put some more wood under it." He trotted off to do just that.

Wait…., boiler?

"There's a boiler here?" Ivar asked, a bit incredulously.

"Yes?" Vesemir answered with a questioning tone. "How did you think we managed to heat the water for the baths?"

"There are BATHS here?!" Now Ivar sounded indigent. "I've been taking bird baths in snowmelt and rainwater since we got here!"

"All the more for me then." Lambert said with a laugh as he walked off, leaving the three of us behind.

"Well then… he is a rather 'sour' individual." Ivar commented.

"That's Lambert. I'm honestly surprised he didn't kick up more of a fuss with my decision to bring you here along with everything else. He must actually be tired." Vesemir sighed. "As it is, with him here the only other people we are waiting for now are Eskel and my contact Merigold."

"Pardon me, but did you both mean Triss Merigold? The Fourteenth of the Hill?" Ivar said with astonishment.

Vesemir nodded. "She was a good friend and ally to one of our old Witchers. I'd prefer to have asked another sorceress that we know, but…" He closed his eyes briefly, somehow looking even older, "she died earlier this year, during a pogrom in Rivia."

"Still, to have such a famous individual such as the adviser to the King of Temeria come here will be an experience. I would love her thoughts on my own research if possible." said Ivar excitedly as he finished off his own food. "Well then, if I am not needed for anything else I shall return to the library. There is plenty of work left to be done after all." Ivar said as he got up from the table and headed back upstairs.

He actually passed Leo on his way back from wherever the boiler was as he sat back down at the table.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked us.

"Nothing overly important I think. I best get back to my own work downstairs and other chores before bed as well." I said as I got up from the table.

"Be sure to rest well. With Lambert here you finally have a new sparring partner." Vesemir said with a smirk.

… Whelp, that didn't imply good things.

---

Clang clang clang clang clang clang clang clang "Ouch!" I clutched my side, but held onto the sword in my hand. Vesemir had quickly driven into my head what the status was of a Witcher who didn't keep a hold of their blade, i.e. a very dead Witcher.

Lambert lightly stepped back, his weight centered on the balls of his feet, his steel sword held in a firm grip. We'd been running through drills called velocities - basically, I would block at predetermined angles, while Lambert would strike at the same. We started slow, but ramped up the speed until I could no longer respond in time to Lambert's strikes. Once that happened, I would do the same to him. Later versions included both strikes and blocks for each side, with the most advanced version having an equal number of either. It was a fantastic way to develop speed, coordination, timing, and conditioning.

I could barely go half an hour without being winded by it. Lambert, the jerk, looked fresh as a daisy. And I had to deal with all this the last couple of days!

"Come on, Griffin!" He taunted me. "Can't keep up? You're playing with the big boys now, not bandits who can't hold the right end of a sword!" He adopted a flamboyant 'en garde' stance, one hand held over his head and his sword pointed towards me. I, for my part, straightened and reset my grip on the hilt of my blade.

I should be more annoyed, more so than what I was, but between the teasing Lambert was taking my lessons seriously and even offered advice in his own special way. He was still an ass, but not a total one.

At the very least my sword lessons were more involved with Lambert joining us, what with Vesemir and Leo going at it not too far away. Dogmeat had even decided to watch at the edge of the courtyard with her head cocked in interest, likely wondering what in the world we were doing or something.

"Well it's my turn now. Drop your guard for a second and I will smack you good." I said with determination.

"You're welcome to try. I'm sure you'll get there sometime this decade." I began attacking him, while Lambert blocked. He liked showing off, alternating hands for his blocks and even using a reverse grip a couple of times - sloppy, but he had the reflexes and skills to get away with it. Eventually, I was slashing as fast as I could, until - at last! - Lambert was just a hairsbreadth too slow and I caught him on the arm. He let out a yelp of surprise and pain, and almost dropped his sword. Almost. And like people say, almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades. Switching his sword from his left hand to his right, he reached out with his left and grabbed my blade! Ah, so that's why he wears the gloves.

Pulling on it hard just above the crossguard on the ricasso, he yanked me off my center of balance and nailed me in the gut with a vicious sidekick. It caught me by surprise, and as my breath wooshed out, he pulled my sword from my grip. Flinging myself backwards, I rolled and popped up in a defensive stance, but Lambert hadn't pressed the attack, instead looking at me with a derisive… something, some expression I couldn't quite describe. It almost looked like pity.

I hated it. I was a Witcher, damn it! It shouldn't be this easy to throw me around! Granted, I was only a Witcher by dint of inheriting the body of one, but still!

"Vesemir wasn't kidding when he said you were green as hell. Even Leo is better than you. Surely you're good at something." He challenged me.

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. I made a Sign with my right hand; Lambert immediately brought up Quen to block it.

Too bad Quen still lets sound through.

"ARGH!" Lambert shouted in pain as he dropped his sword and put his hands over his ears, the Veoth taking him by surprise and full advantage of his Witcher-grade hearing. I followed it up with an Aard that shattered his Quen, and spear-tackled him around the waist and brought him to the ground.

Even with his ears ringing and being taken off-guard by my attack, Lambert was still a tremendous warrior, and wasn't about to give up. The two of us scuffled in the dirt until I felt a hand grab me by the scruff. Vesemir yanked me off of Lambert, who pulled himself to his feet, his teeth bared in a snarl.

"Enough!" The old man thundered. "You're Witchers, not schoolboys! Act like it! Lambert, he won't learn if you act condescending to him. Be more helpful. Markus! Don't let him goad you, and don't overpower your Signs during training. You damned near knocked out Dogmeat with that one."

"Dogmeat!" I gasped, and turned to my dog. She was crouched flat against the ground, her paws covering her ears as Leo tried calming her down. I ran over to her, every pained wimper she made sent agony through my heart. I Signed Xiil at her.

"Dogmeat hurt! Why, Master? Dogmeat good girl!"

"I'm so sorry. Good girls don't deserve that." I said, stroking her head to sooth her.

Spinning on my heel, I glared at the cocky Witcher. "Apologize, Lambert!" I yelled at him.

"What the hell for?! I'm not the one who used some weird Sign around their dog!" He yelled back.

"Because you were being an ass and made me lose my temper, this is partly your fault!" I shot back hotly.

"Ha!" Lambert barked with indignation. "I didn't make you do anything. If you can't control your temper, that's your own damn fault!

"Say you don't care to this face! Say it!" I yelled and I shoved a whining Dogmeat in his direction.

"I'm not about to apologize to some bitch's bitch!" Lambert growled.

Dogmeat whined some more and really put her puppy dog eyes to use as she felt the tension between us.

"What?" Lambert shrugged indifferently. "This isn't a game, Griffin. You lost control, and your pet paid the consequences. Would've worked in a fight, but this is training."

"So you'll admit you lost the fight then if I admit I screwed up?" I fired back as I held Dogmeat close to my chest.

"Gods, the both of you, children!" Vesemir snapped. "Lambert, you're an ass. Markus, you're still green as grass. Put the dog down, lad. Either of you lose your cool again, and I'm going to throw both of you in the lake. Try acting your age and not your shoe size." Vesemir stared us both down, daring us to speak up. We didn't. "Now get back to your drills. Leo, take Dogmeat back to the keep, make sure she stays out of trouble."

"Yessir!" I put her down, and Leo called her over.

"Come on, girl, let's see if there's any scraps in the kitchen for you." He walked back to the keep, Dogmeat close on his heels.

"Don't know why we bother with this one, old man. His swordplay's shit and I have better things to do than beat him around all day, no matter how fun it is. Besides, we both know that experience matters most or else all these drills won't really sink in." Lambert complained.

"Oh really now? How about we give it a test then." I said as an idea came to mind. "Vesemir, you said you wouldn't feel comfortable about killing the chort with anything less than three Witchers, right? How about we go together to do so? I use just what I've learned sword wise in a real fight and you guys back me up to make sure I don't get killed. Would be a great excuse to grab the sword diagram, wouldn't it?" I offered.

"That is a damned foolish suggestion and you know it, boy." Vesemir snapped at me. "Chorts are not to be taken lightly, no matter the Witcher fighting it. Still… I do admit that unlike a trainee the drills won't really take completely unless you use it in a real fight and that thing is better off dead sooner rather than later. If we do this we do it my way, that goes to both of you." Vesemir glared at Lambert and me.

"Just send me to go kill it. I don't need to waste my time watching his ass." Lambert grouched.

"No, I've decided we are turning this into a practical learning experience for all of us." Vesemir declared. "I have spoken." He said at last and walked off before either of us could argue.

Lambert just glared at me. "If you die a horrible death, I will laugh about it."

"Love you too buddy." I said back with a blank stare.

This is the start of a beautiful friendship, ain't it?