Bear School Astartes

Ged was scouting ahead and hurried back after half an hour.

He was visibly excited, gesturing from afar. When he reached everyone, he didn’t immediately report the situation but instead pinched his nose and blew it loudly, making a noise akin to a shepherd’s horn.

”Don’t scare away the prey.”

Geralt whispered, but the little girl with ash-gray hair beside him didn’t seem to mind this rude action.

”Speak, what’s the situation up ahead?”

Geralt bore no grudge or hostility towards Ged.

In fact, he greatly appreciated this man from the Bear School for traveling miles to find him, delivering messages, and accompanying him to pick someone up.

Although Ged said he did this for their mutual friend, Geralt was still grateful to him.

It’s just that Ged was nothing like the other Bear School member he knew... could he not control his unrestrained lifestyle?

— They were fleeing for their lives now!

”There’s a settlement up ahead,” Ged said, unimpressed by Geralt’s low growl, wiping his fingers on the hem of his compound armor cloak.

”It’s on a clearing. Three wooden cabins, a barn, a few small houses made of mud and straw... a dog running around the yard, smoke rising from chimneys. Someone’s cooking porridge with milk.”

”You went into the kitchen?” Dandelion laughed, ”And peeked into the pot? Otherwise, how’d you know it’s porridge?”

Dandelion, the famous poet of the North, was the kind who could sing from start to finish at the King’s feast without anyone finding fault, and even receive personal thanks from the King.

He wore an elegant and fashionable soft cap with a heron feather, along with an exaggerated cherry-red tight vest and breeches.

Usually, he would also be drenched in perfume, and his beard and sideburns meticulously groomed. Only then would he have the chance to sleep with the nobles’ wives or daughters post-performance.

But now, even his eye-catching cherry-red clothing was covered with so much dirt that the color was indescribably peculiar.

When Ged found Geralt, this renowned poet was traveling with his witcher friend.

This was not unfamiliar to Geralt and Dandelion; in fact, all of Dandelion’s poems about witchers were written during his travels with Geralt.

Thus, Geralt of Livia, the White Wolf, was undoubtedly the most well-known witcher in the world.

So on this journey to bring back the Child of Destiny, the poet was eager to tag along as expected.

They hadn’t even crossed Sintra’s border before Dandelion had already set three or four themes for new poetry.

But unfortunately, just as Dandelion decided on a fifth theme, the Niflgaard people launched their attack.

Hence, the journey to pick someone up turned into a flight from the flames of war.

Fortunately, maybe by fate’s guidance, they still found the Child of Destiny of the White Wolf.

”Don’t underestimate me, poet.”

Ged grinned beneath his thick beard, revealing yellowed teeth and bad breath.

His usually clean-shaven beard had grown into stubble and quickly turned into knots due to poor hygiene conditions.

”It’s winter now, so smells don’t linger as easily. But I can assure you about the fragrance of that food!”

”However!” Geralt’s deep and steady voice immediately emphasized, ”Isn’t that even more unusual?”

”What’s unusual about it? Porridge sounds nice, I’d love to have some. Little Ciri must be missing the taste of milk porridge too, right?”

Dandelion winked at the little girl with ash-gray hair.

But the usually lively young girl only responded with a simple smile. No playful banter, no tomboyish energy... just a smile.

Dandelion knew in his heart that the tragedy in Sintra City had spread far and wide, and even speaking of it made him shiver.

This little girl, whom Geralt described as ’full of vitality,’ was remarkably strong just to manage a smile after personally experiencing all that.

”Actually, Geralt is right,” Ged said, ”And you better quiet down, Dandelion, now’s not the time for poems.”

”If the porridge has milk, it means there are dairy cows around. Any farmer would lead the cows into the woods at the sight of war’s black smoke. So why didn’t the farmers there flee? That’s why I didn’t act rashly and came back for a discussion.”

Though he said ’discussion,’ Ged was clearly waiting for Geralt of the Wolf School to make a decision with him.

Ciri had a sharp mind, but unfortunately, she was still affected by emotions, and she wasn’t very big.

Dandelion was simply unreliable.

In the end, the rumbling of Geralt’s stomach tipped the scale of decision.

”Still... let’s take a look.” Geralt said, wiping his face.

”In this day and age, we must seize every opportunity for food, or else we’ll die foolishly.”

Thus, the four began moving forward under Ged’s guidance.

Upon reaching the place, they found Ged’s description to be quite accurate.

There was a cleared patch of land from tree felling.

In the center of the clearing stood three wooden cabins, a barn, and a few thatched huts. The farmhouse yard had a large patch of mud wet enough to reflect the moonlight.

Surrounding those buildings and a small untended plot was a worn-out fence, inside which a filthy dog barked incessantly. Smoke rose lazily from the roof of one of the wooden cabins, spread across the thatch-covered roof.

”The smoke smells wonderful,” the poet inhaled deeply, ”especially when my nose has grown accustomed to the foul stench of war... ah, the scent of cooking wood at this moment seems somewhat poetic.”

Finally, they decided that Ged and Dandelion would go forward to negotiate to see if they could buy or trade for some things.

Geralt would stay hidden as backup and keep an eye on Ciri.

In these chaotic times, even a simple trade warrants readiness to draw swords at any moment.

Ged and Dandelion cautiously left the shrubs and walked towards the cabins, moving slowly and scanning their surroundings.

The dog caught their scent and began barking loudly, running back and forth in the yard, ignoring the poet’s attempts at soothing with whistles.

The door of the small cabin opened. Geralt smoothly raised the crossbow, drew the string, but quickly put it back down.

A petite, slender girl with a long braid dashed out, waving her arms and shouting something. Ged opened his hands and replied loudly, but the girl continued to shout.

Geralt could hear the yelling, but the whistling night wind kept him from making out the words.

Ged and Dandelion, being closer, clearly understood her words and immediately turned around, hurrying back to the trees. Geralt raised the crossbow again, rotating his body, searching for a target.

Ged was composed in his retreat, but Dandelion... to put it unkindly, he ran panting like a dying dog.

”Smallpox!”

Dandelion shouted.

”There’s a plague outbreak here!”

”Oh, gods.” Geralt lowered the crossbow, murmuring softly.