Chapter 4: A Brief Respite

Crow's Perch, Velen

[Six days later] 29 Blathe, Year 1272

At approximately the seventeenth hour of the day, a short figure made their way up the path to Crow's Perch. The person looked to be no taller than a boy in his early adolescence, but carried a single sword in their left hand. The two guardsmen posted atop the path and at the entrance of the bridge had to squint their eyes to see more detail of the small traveler. The stranger was slumped forward, shrouded in a black cloak, and had a medallion hung around their neck. The medallion, however, is what caught the guards' attention. After the recent events that took place within Velen, nearly all guardsmen under the Bloody Baron's employment knew that a silver medallion shaped in the resemblance of a fierce beast meant that the carrier was a witcher.

"Eye, Todd, look'ere. 'Tis another freak." one guard whispered to the other, the two guardsmen sneering openly at the approaching witcher. It didn't matter that the White Wolf was helping the Baron, a mutant was a mutant, and a freak was a freak, no amount of good deeds would change their opinions. After all, the reputation on witchers would never be sparkling clean. And witchers were known to be tough sons of bitches, men lacking of emotion, and doing business in a morally grey manner.

So it came to their mutual surprise that once the witcher in question had reached them, they'd muttered a small cheer, voice croaking but very clearly feminine, before collapsing at the foot of the bridge, the cloak hood falling and long dark hair flew out. The woman witcher fell to the floor with a dull thud as the two men stood staring in shock.

For a long moment there was silence as the two guards stared at the fallen woman, then…

"Ploughing arse. It's a girl!" With the reveal of the witcher actually being a small woman, the two northern men changed their tune quickly enough. After all, one couldn't resist the opportunity to assist a damsel in distress… even if they were a mutant.

The other guard, Todd, rolled his eyes at his partner's observation, "Like I didn't know that, you fucking idiot. Now help me bring her to the Baron." Todd crouched down next to the young lady and gently slid his arms under, barely making a grunt as he lifted her up, the medallion clinking. Turning to cross the long wooden bridge, he nodded at his partner, "Come on, Gav. You carry the sword and pack."

Gav gave out a cry of protest, believing it beyond unfair that his partner got to carry the woman like a princess, but his protests dissolved into nonsensical and incoherent sounds as Todd walked further and further away, ignoring the outrage from the man. Huffing indignantly, Gav bend down to gather up the sheathed sword and leather sack in his hands before turning and making his way across the bridge as well, signalling the tower guards to go replace them at the beginning of the bridge.

Once the younger soldier caught up with his friend, Gav slowed to a brisk walk, his eyes trained on the woman's face as they made their way past gaping townsfolk and raised brows. "I didn't know women could be witchers. Ey, Todd? You think that they kidnapped her and made her into one of 'em?"

Todd gave a noncommittal grunt, green eyes flickering down and up to keep an eye on the woman as well as to not run into anything on the path. "They might have, Gav. But she's the first female witcher I've seen."

Gav didn't seem too pleased with the answer, but stayed silent knowing that not many people actually knew about witchers. No one liked the monster hunters, but Gav wasn't stupid enough that he didn't realize the most rumors about the witchers weren't true. Still, Gav stared openly at the unconscious girl while Todd dared to only take fleeting glances. "She don't look like she's from the North. Why's that?"

"Eyes and nose are small." Todd answered, stating his observation from the short trip up the dirt path. They were only just reaching the castle gates where the two soldiers were let in, the iron gates opening up with groaning gears. "High cheekbones… she's probably from the south… or not. Face isn't long enough. Too round."

"Y-you think she's from the east? Past the Blue Mountains?" Gav wondered in awe, staring at the female witcher with a new found interest.

Todd didn't get the chance to answer Gav. As they made their way into the Baron's courtyard, they noticed that the Baron was already outside of his large estate, pacing the courtyard. For a moment, neither guard said a thing, eyeing their lord with unsure eyes before Gav cleared his throat. "My Lord?"

Philip Strenger was a portly man, tall, as was common for the people of the Northern Realms, and might have been fairly ruggedly handsome in his prime. Now, however, the man stank of hard ale and beer. The rotund lord turned and halted in his steps, amber eyes narrowing as he stared down the men. "What do you want?"

Long tired of their lord's rudeness, but not being able to do anything about it, Todd spoke up with his usual impassive voice, meant to betray no emotion. "A woman collapsed at the crossroads." The guard held out the unconscious woman's body, "She wears a witcher's medallion."

The Bloody Baron stared down at the woman for a long while as Todd and Gav shifted uncomfortably. Then, with a great bob of his head, gestured to his manor and commanded, "Bring her to the guest room and have one of the maids tend to her. Let me know when the girl wakes." With that command, the Baron resumed his pacing, hands clenching at his sides when thinking about the news that Geralt had brought about his wife.

Not at all surprised that the Baron would grant the woman shelter, Todd and Gav quickly gave their acknowledgments before practically running into the manor and setting about making the fallen witcher comfortable.

[Ten hours later]

Crash. BOOM

"Damns it all, dun disturb 'er, you dumb creature!"

Jazz groaned and shifted in the bed, "Dun wanna wake up…." It was warm and soft, the pillow underneath Jazz's head, a comfort, and the blanket covering her, a warm embrace. The exhausted woman didn't want to leave bed in order to address the sudden noises and struggle inside her room. Wait… bed… room…

Her brows furrowed, though her eyes remained closed, and she muttered, "This isn't right." Jazz cautiously turned to lay on her other side before gingerly popping a tired eye open. Although she didn't have her glasses on, Jazz was able to make out the blurred shapes of a man dragging a… struggling something out the door, the wooden door shutting with a slam.

With how tired her mind and body was, Jazz hummed thoughtfully at the sight she'd just witnessed before turning back over to her previous position to bury herself in the blankets, letting sleep take her once more. "I'll deal with it later…." Sleep came first.

[not even four hours later]

Jazz regained consciousness not four hours later, well rested, but unwilling to open her eyes. It feels like it's been years since I've slept on a bed. The asian woman thought in deep contentment, happy with the way the blanket warmed her, even happy for the somewhat scratchy material of the mattress, knowing that memory foam didn't exist yet. The thought that she was in the Bloody Baron's estate warmed her the slightest, knowing that, as a girl, she'll not come to any harm within the walls of Crow's Perch. Such a welcome change.

It had been hell during the six days traveling from where she was attacked by the leshen. After that incident, Jazz had been scared to travel at night, sticking to the main roads by day, and taking shelter in the barns of various strangers at night. Everything went well for the first three nights, enjoying a routine with sleep and food included. However, everything good must eventually come to an end.

On her fifth day of travel, Jazz reached the beginning edges of Crookback Bog. Even during the day, the place scared the hell out of the girl. If she could think of one place in all of the continent that would be the worst place to end up, it would be in the bog. Jazz had weighed her options at the time, to go into the bog, or to walk around it. Walking around would take more time, and she wanted to reach Crow's Perch as soon as possible, but a quick glance at the silver sword in her grip, Jazz winced and began her trip around the bog. She couldn't even lift the sword long enough to take a proper swing, there was no way that Jazz was stubborn enough to walk through the bog.

Not even a few hours into her journey around the bog, when the sun had begun to set, Jazz encountered an archgriffin. She'd been walking with the sun setting in her face, and therefore could not see that she had the attention of the beast flying above. The winged creature stalked Jazz for a great few minutes before it gave out a mighty cry, alerting her to its presence. And with it being a hunter, it was delighted when Jazz had glanced up with wide and shocked doe eyes. And like an unthinking fool, Jazz ran as fast as her legs could carry her, the archgriffin shrieking as it dove after her, wanting to play with its food.

Oh God. Oh FUCKING GOD. Let there be some sort of divine miracle! Jazz had practically screamed in her head, intending to speak, but only a shrill and strangled sound left her throat. She was foolish to pray, to wish for a miracle, to wish for her luck to change. There was no god looking after her, there were only fates and destinies. And if there was a god, then it would have been no friend of the Earth-girl because it wouldn't have taken Jazz from her homeworld to begin with.

In the end, Jazz ran until the archgriffin became bored of her, and by then, she'd been running blindly, ending up further than she wanted to be and back to where she had stopped to look at the bog. With the sun nearly gone for the sky, Jazz had been forced to travel back up the path to a small area clear of shrubbery, sitting down against a tree and forced to wait through the night, forced to stay awake in case of danger.

The following morning, Jazz stood from her resting place and decided to brave the bog, knowing that her witcher's medallion would notify her of any immediate danger. But the medallion only just managed to save her from danger, shaking just as the drowners and waterhags rose from the shallow waters to attack, or just as the occasional foglet started to stalk her. And in those occasions, despite not having eaten in a day at least, Jazz found the strength to run and continue running even as she left the bog. She was weak and tired, running on pure adrenaline. Eventually, her body would give out, and when they did, Jazz wanted it to be as far away from Crookback Bog as possible.

When and where she had collapsed, Jazz didn't remember, only knowing that she had been woken from her sleep by the screams of a certain cursed individual barging into the room.

Crow's Perch. Jazz scoffed in disbelief at being so fortunate as to be brought to the very place wanted to be. Unbelievable, but Jazz would take any good turn of events at that point. It's a nice reprieve. Jazz curled up further into the blankets, relaxing a bit more.

"Ti's been a day, why won't the girl wake up?" Jazz's eyes startled open at the voices approaching her room door. Both were men, but she didn't recognize either.

"It's been only half a day. For all we know, she'd been traveling for longer without sleep."

"Poor girl, trav'lin all by 'er lonesome. An' from far eas' too. Bet you that she 'as the cat eyes."

"You're assuming things, Gav. Just like when you assumed she was half elf."

"Wot! But 'er face!" the exclamation was cut short when the men, soldiers, Jazz amended, entered the room and froze in place, suddenly face to face with the very awake 'witcher woman.'

"Uh…." the man on the left could only open and close his mouth, at a loss for how to approach the woman, who, now that she was awake, was very obviously not a witcher.

Jazz's expression, ever set impassive, slowly morphed into resting bitch face at being gawked at. "Well? Are you coming in? Or are you both going to stare at me from the threshold?"

Gav, or at least Jazz suspected his name to be Gav, what with his very distinct manner of speech, frantically scrambled to push his companion through the threshold and shut the door behind them, practically screaming his apologies, which had Jazz raising her brows in surprise at the sudden increase in volume. He was a tall man, as was characteristic of a northerner, but was a bit more on the lean side, a bit gangly whilst clad in the steel armor, but easier to look at than expected. Especially his face. Jazz thought in amusement, An adorable shade of baby blue for eyes, sharp nose, and a fair complexion unlike the blotchy red. Definitely younger than me. "M'sorry, ma'am!" When his companion said nothing, Gav slapped his arm, "Todd… apologize…" Gav hissed, attempting to be discreet, yet Jazz heard him nonetheless, and she couldn't help but approve. Hn.. he's got manners, too. His parents raised him well at least. Better than most men in the 21st century.

Todd gave a deep glower at Gav, who despite his shaking legs, didn't hesitate to stare his partner down. He was a bit shorter than Gav, more broadly built, but still a good head taller than Jazz. Like Gav, Todd was unexpectedly different than what Jazz had seen. He's remarkably handsome… in a bad boy sort of way... He had a narrow face with decent cheekbones, defined brows, and thin lips with fierce green eyes, which softened slightly when they turned to glance upon the bedridden woman. "I'm sorry." His voice was a smooth tenor, on the lower spectrum and contrasted heavily with Gav's higher tenor, and in any other situation, Jazz would have swooned.

Jazz, at the two men's apology, bowed her head in embarrassment, ashamed of losing her temper. Her dirtied black hair, disheveled, fell to frame the sides of her head, "No… I'm sorry for yelling." She muttered, not liking having to apologize, but she knew when she'd also erred.

An awkward silence filled the room for a long moment, something that Jazz had long since become accustomed to from her time with her relatives, and again while traveling alone. In fact, Jazz could go a long time without talking if she had to. Gav, evidently, didn't have the same aptitude for withstanding silence as she did, filling the silence with loud gulps before he spoke in a kind yet curious voice. "I 'ope you're feel'in better. Todd an' I were worr'ed abou' ya when ya collapsed a' the crossroads."

The woman's brown eyes lifted to settle on the two men still standing in the room, a warmth filling her gaze at the concern. And try as she might to give the slightest of smiles like she'd seen ladies of wealth and status give, she couldn't help the full-blown and bright smile that was a trademark of hers, straight top row of teeth showing and all. "I'm fine, just suffering from a bit of exhaustion from traveling from White Orchard. Thank you for asking, Gav."

Jazz wasn't sexy, she knew that much. She wasn't drop dead gorgeous with a tall and lean build with curves. She wasn't a Yennefer of Vengerberg, a Triss Merigold, or even a Ciri. She was nothing of what men desired, and it made her sad at times, but more often glad. Jazz, despite envying the bodies of multiple women, actually liked that she was short and all curves, that she had a cute face and looked younger than she really was. In the end, Jazz was unique, and she didn't really care if certain men didn't find her attractive. Yet still, when Jazz noticed the slightest blush on Gav's face, and Todd's stare, she couldn't help the thrill and satisfaction that filled her.

"N-no! I-it-'tis my pleasure!" Gav's face lit up and a crooked closed eyed smile decorated his facade. From next to him, Todd snickered at the dopey expression, and Jazz could only gaze at the taller man with a twinkle in her eyes, oddly reminded of a happy puppy.

Still smiling, Jazz gestured towards the seats in the room, "If you two have questions, I'll be happy to answer them." Her grin went crooked and playful, "But you'll have to indulge a few of my own in return."

The curiosity that toiled within the two men fueled their obedience, both nodding their assent to the mutual questions.

Todd was the first to ask a question, "Are you a witcher? A monster slayer? And from where do you hail?"

Be honest. Don't start lying again. You're doing too well to go back into your habit. Jazz reminded herself lightly before taking a deep breath and answering the questions directed at her. "I'm not from the Northern Realms, nor am I from East of the Blue Mountains. I'm not a witcher, and I'm not a monster slayer." she grit her teeth in embarrassment, "In fact, I'm not strong enough to swing a silver sword."

Gav gestured wildly towards the medallion that hung around Jazz's neck, "But the medallion! Only witchers 'ave that!"

Glancing down at the griffin medallion, Jazz brought a hand up to lightly caress the beak. "Oh… this… I uh… stole it off some witch hunters. They killed a witcher and took the medallion as a trophy."

Green eyes narrowed just the slightest, "You're not a wanted woman, right?"

Jazz merely shook her head, eyes getting a little glazed over, "Not anymore."

"Not anymore?" just the slightest shift in his body language, and Jazz saw Todd reach for the sword at his side. "What did you do?"

"Didn't do anything." Jazz muttered, hand shifting to brush against her right arm, the arm that broken when the leshen threw her from the black mare. "The leshen got to them when they were chasing me."

"LESHEN?" At the mention of such a ferocious creature, Gav nearly leapt from his chair, "You were attacked by a leshen?" When excited, it seemed Gav lost all traces of his distinct speech.

Jazz nodded, eyes still far away, thinking back to the attack. "I ran when it killed my mare." It wasn't a lie, she only omitted several details.

… "You're n't much of a talk'r are't ya?" Gav mused, evidently disappointed in the lack of details within Jazz's answers.

"An introvert?" Todd questioned, leaning in his seat with a little difficulty due to the heavy armor.

"I speak enough when asked." was the bedridden girl's response, "I don't like long explanations when the question is simple. And people don't like it when someone is long-winded… I know I don't."

"So you're not an introvert. Extroverted?" Todd seemed baffled at the possibility.

Another embarrassed grin, "Contrary to how I appear, I usually can't shut up if you catch me in a good mood."

Todd snorted, teasing, "And what is an extroverted little girl doing collapsing at the crossroads anyways?"

One blink, then two. "I'm not a little girl. I'm probably older than Gav."

"Wot!? NO YOU'RE NOT!" Gav screeched, "THERE'S NO WAY!" and there went his accent again.

"I just passed my twenty-first spring." Jazz smiled at the stunned expressions. "I don't look my age, I know."

Gav, meanwhile, only paled in disbelief, "... two springs older…"

Todd guffawed at Gav's expression, nearly bent over and in tears at the younger man's reaction, before turning to Jazz and snorted, "Okay. What's a lady like you doing in Velen?"

Fond of how normal the situation was when compared to what had transpired over the past few days, Jazz shook her head and answered, "I'm tracking down someone, and thought that I might find some information here."

The curiosity in the two men came back, "W'ho are you look'in for?"

Jazz bit her bottom lip nervously before answering, "The White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia."

MaggYme: Thank you! I appreciate the advice! I'll try not to have Jazz interfere too much with the storyline!