Gerd - Witcher from the School of the Bear
A story based on the world of The Witcher, created by Andrzej Sapkowski.
.I. Act or React.
It was a time of change, uncertainty, a time in which a few riots and rebellions burst on the continent. People hated the leaders, city councils and most than others, kings. As some of them were giving a shit about their kingdom and its people, or at least being a good, wise king.
No. They were bold, tired of the same borders, clinching to the past, when a powerful kingdom was one that conquered all the lands next to it. With war on their mind, that's what these times were. A few kingdoms and empires were still led by wise kings, like the north. Temeria and Redania were at good terms, living in peace for some decades now. Besides all the politics, there were still the monsters, the corpse eaters, beyond the city walls. Amongst the woods they hunt and devour the poor souls that dare walk into these vile creatures territories, they end up being the supper for a drowner or a ghoul. Worse case if you stumble upon an even more dangerous kind of beast, the big ones, trolls, fiends, griffins, cockatrices, dangerous beasts. Though they live in remote areas of places like forests, hills, caves or plains, some of them from time to time move, for example to mate. That is sometimes the period when folk working on the lands get snatched by a griffin, eager to get the poor skinny human to it's nest. Most of the times, the villagers hire the wrong people to take care of such predator, thinking that a rat exterminator can take out a griffin, and if he fails, then, maybe a soldier can get the job done.
Usually they only make it worse, instead of looking for someone who can deal with the problem. A professional. A witcher.
The locals of a village once tried to run off a pack of wolfs, and it worked. Later they had a problem with four trolls that took a mine for themselves, killed the workers and probably ate them. Four days later, a few peasants, armed with knives and wooden 'sticks', went to the mine thinking that they will chase away the trolls as well, since it worked with a pack of wolfs.
Few got out. The trolls threw a big boulder toward the entrance and those on its way got squashed pretty nice. Those who didn't manage to get inside yet, ran back to the village, cursing and screaming, and told everyone what happened, and later they asked for help. A witcher's help, to get rid of the trolls in the caves.
...
After a few days, a witcher shows up. Tall, chestnut-brown colored hair, with a thick beard, carrying on his horse the head of a werewolf as a trophy, two swords on his back and a crossbow next to them, with a bear medallion hanging from his neck and a thick voice.
Asking at Petra's Inn about the notice regarding the troll problem. The innkeeper told him to talk with Hilgard, for it was him who put up the notice.
...
The village was a modest one. A few huts here and there and in between all the huts there was Petra's Inn, small, almost looking like a hut, a bit taller and with additional rooms.
It had outside, near the entrance four tables. At one of them sat two well intoxicated men, barely standing straight on the benches. One resting his head on the table while from time to time got up only to take another sip of ale from his tankard, and the other across the table, leaning left and right, with his hand raised above the table, holding his tankard, murmuring something.
A couple of steps behind them, next to the door, was Petra's daughter, Chemile, cleaning the unoccupied tables. She was a beautiful lass, fair haired with blue eyes, supple waist, with two beautiful, generous sized breasts and long well shaped legs. Wearing a knees long, blue dress, with white details around her chest and arms. She was helping her mother with the Inn, and dreamed to go to Oxenfurt or Ban Aard, to study magic, science, medicine and literature.
The village had a big oak at its northern side, shadowing a good portion of the village from the hot sun in the summer. From the southwest entrance of the village you would notice spread around, in the front of the peasant homes, roses, red and white, tulips of different colors and obviously, dandelions. Wives were tending to the house, washing clothes, feeding their child, cooking, crocheting. Old men sitting on a wooden bench in front of their hut, smoking from their pipe, puffing smoke like a Novigrad chimney. While the ones younger and still able, were working the land, building, some went or returned from hunting hare or deer. Further, little boys playing with sticks pretending to be swords and shields made from the caps of a barrel, girls that played near the colorful roses and tulips, picking dandelions to make a beautiful crown. Older girls, women, around the age of marriage, fooling around with their beloved in the nearest barn or haystack. And those that had no half, helped around the house.
…
The witcher headed to Hilgard's hut, which sat at the edge of the village, next to the tall, old oak. The hut itself was surrounded by a wooden fence. Beyond it, a front yard in which Hilgard's daughter was tending to the few roses she had planted last spring and next to her a wooden basket filled with wet clothes that had to be dried. A couple of steps to the left was her father Hilgard. A widower, for 3 years now, he was building an additional shed, to put this year's crops.
...
'Hilgard ?', asked the witcher.
'That's me.', answered the villager. 'Who're you ?', asked the peasant, looking up at the witcher's face with a hand above his eyes.
Hilgard's daughter was quite curious about what the tall and bearded traveler, who was carrying two swords on his back, wanted with her father. So, as she put some clothes to dry on a line that was held near the hut, she didn't move her eyes away from them, eavesdropping on what the strange man had to say to her father.
'Gerd, witcher.', said the man while looking around.
'Hmm...'. Hilgard seemed slightly surprised and then continued. 'Here 'bout the notice, aren't yaa ? Didn't expect a such fast response, well t'was time some of your kind came to these lands. We got plenty of work for you.', said the villager scratching his nose. 'You're a tall one, haven't seen a man this tall...Hmm...Live and see, I guess. Now, about the notice...'. He paused, turned around towards a table, grabbed a mug and drank, he puffed with relief, and then continued. 'it was those damn trolls...that took the mine near the village. Killed some of our people when tried to get them out of there, threw a fuckin' giant rock and flattened them, killed the miners inside too.', he took another drink from his mug while looking towards the Inn, puffed, then resumed. 'Will you help us master witcher ?'.
'I will. But first, let's talk about the reward. How much ?', asked the witcher.
'Well...', Hilgard answered scratching the back of his head. 'The whole village chipped in, with what they could...This' hundred and twenty crowns not enough ?'.
'It'll do. Where's the cave ?', replied the witcher.
'T'his east of the village, take this road until you get to the crossroads, then go left, and you'll get to the mine.', said Hilgard.
'So long.', said the witcher while he turned away and went on his way to slay the trolls.
The witcher went to get his horse and headed to the mine at gallop, it was getting dark.
Unlike the other witchers from his guild or another, he didn't ask much, he only wanted the what, who, when, where and how, the rest he would figure out himself. He, most of the times watched the creature, learning it's certain qualities, as he liked to test certain theories about the beasts he hunted. A weird curiosity of his. Depending on its kind, how the beast behaved while searching for food and the way they kill. For some stalk their food, some ambush it, other just chase it to exhaustion and then give the final blow. That sometimes different species had similarities only because they roam the same forest. However, some had differences, he claimed that some of them develop certain unique qualities during their lifetime. A theory backed by certain witcher books and tomes. A change influenced by certain factors as climate, location and what they eat. So he liked to stalk his 'prey', observe, then if he was satisfied, he would slay the beast. He would often do the same with humans. He used to say that patience is a virtue, but sometimes he would just go and kill the damn thing. Let's say he had both patience and impatience, and choose often the last, depending on his mood.
Gerd was coming into the village of Guryuh from the pass through the Blue Mountains near Ban Aard, heading towards Redania with destination Skellige. He was five weeks ago in Zerrikania, he spent at least three months there, for he had a contract on a mercenary called Galodo Frock. Usually witchers from the school of the Bear don't take assassination contracts, but Gerd made an exception for this one. A mercenary who with his crew, butchered a whole village east of Spalla.
This witcher was on the path for long time. Last time he went to Ard Skellig was around two years ago. He had good contracts on both monsters and humans, and for this contract, he had a good reason to accept, for this man Galodo Frock, deserved to die.
Three weeks after the massacre, he arrived and took the contract, from the Guards Post in Spalla. He then went towards the Blue Mountains along Yaruga's shore to the camp of this Galodo Frock. About whom folk said was a skilled sword fighter. They also heard that he came from the northern lands of Kovir.
It was winter, Imbolc, so when Gerd leaved Spalla a thick blanket of snow already covered the lands. He wore a typical kind of heavy armor, known as Ursine Armor, so he was well protected against enemies and the weather. On his way to the mercenary's camp he stopped to feed his horse and himself, while a pack of clouds was approaching from the west. When he resumed his hunt, it started to snow, and when he got near the camp it was snowing so hard he barely noticed it. That was good, for his thick armor and the bear pelt on his back kept him warm from the cold, but the mercenaries were to endure the blizzard. He then looked for a place to leave his horse and found a cave, where he made a fire and left some hay for the horse, then went to Galodo's camp.
He made his way into the camp by setting aflame the tents around an old tower. The men jumped and ran out, some in flames others not, but confused and battered by the strong wind and some without a weapon. They barely stood a chance against Gerd who cut their neck, one by one with his steel sword.
Later, after he took care of the mercenaries he set aflame, he found an entrance to the tower. Where on the second floor he met more of Galodo's men, but, not Galodo. Thus, he cut through his men an left one alive to question about Galodo's whereabouts. This man said he went towards a village up Yaruga's shore and took four of his men to get a shipment from Zerrikania.
After that, the witcher planned to go and find his target, but when he got out the door of the tower, Galodo and a couple of his mercenaries were looking for who or what caused the fire and killed his men. Gerd walked calmly down the stairs of the tower and then casted a spell of Aard that knocked to the ground Galodo and his pals. Galodo, without knowing what had just happened quickly got up and ran, ordered his man to 'Cut the bastard down'. And as he got near his horse gave another order, 'After, meet me in Jorg', then got on his horse and ran towards the pass.
Galodo's men surrounded the witcher. Being too confident of themselves, one behind, one on his left, another on the right and one to the front. The witcher calmly drawn his sword, as he sat straight with his sword pointing to the ground, waiting for one of those fools to act. He had not waited long, for the one behind charged towards him, holding his sword with his both hands, as the one in front of him followed after, while the other two remained on their positions.
The witcher moved aside and with his sword cut the one behind in two and stopped the other's sword with his gauntlet, then, he threw him on his back with his Aard spell. After which he stabbed him into the torso. The other two seemed frozen like, one looked at the witcher and dropped his sword and puked, the other got his guard up, to which the witcher responded with a smooth smile and a quick spin and a slash that beheaded the man. The other fell on his bottom and crawled away from the witcher while looking at his face covered in blood, which the witcher later cleaned with a piece of cloth he had on his belt, and walked towards the fleeing boy. Scared shitless of Gerd, he kept crawling. The boy seemed young, green to all this, the gore he'd just witnessed was to much for his faint heart, but the witcher had no mercy for these kind of men. So he got closer and closer to him, close enough at one point, that the boy reached desperately for the knife in his boot and threw it towards the witcher. He did only try for he missed. And at that point in his mind, if before there was a bit of hope that the monster slayer may let him live. Now that hope was dead, and he could only think that he will die as well in a few moments, as the witcher got closer with each second. It seemed his steps grew longer in length, but, slower. He was watching the boy, observing him on his last moments in the world of the living.
The boy stopped, looked at the witcher's face as he stepped closer to him, his eyes went down to the ground then up again staring into the witcher's cat like eyes, glowing in the dark, and with a trembling voice barely whispered. 'Please, I beg you, I- I don't wanna die, I- will leave and never return- I'll tell you everything you want-', then he stopped. He raised his hand above his closed clinching eyes, while slowly turning his head away, being sure that the witcher will deliver the killing blow. He remained like that for a moment, in his head he was probably asking himself why he wasn't dead yet. Thinking that the witcher wanted to know what he knows, he lowered his hand. Only to see the witcher's sword penetrate his guts, blood started to burst from his abdomen on the snow covered ground, that soon turned red.
'You know...', began Gerd. 'This, is the slowest way. You just bleed until you faint and then, die. So, we have time to see what you know...'.
He then grabbed the boy by his leg and dragged him towards the tower, leaving a trail of red on the white snow. Sat him on the stairs, while he took a chair and placed it in front of the boy, and sat on it.
'Well, what do you know ?', Gerd asked.
'He went to- Jorg, he has more men there, but- I- doubt he'll return-'.
'I heard him before he leaved...'. Gerd interrupted. 'What's in Jorg ?'.
'H-He has a hut- there. His wife-'.
'Huh'. interrupted Gerd once again, with a smile on his face. 'Go figure. That ought to be enough. Thanks, have a nice one.'.
...
As the witcher walked away from the dying boy, standing on the wooden stairs, and whose blood was gliding down the stairs and turned the snow red as it touched the ground.
'Here...', said the witcher, grabbing the knife the dying boy threw at him, throwing it back. The knife stopped in the wooden stair, next to his right hand. 'In case you need it later.'.
The boy could only watch the witcher leave him and the others, dead and burned, along with the still burning tents in the camp. Around the lone old tower.
…
The witcher got back to the cave, took his mare, and headed towards Jorg, where his target Galodo Frock, fled...
