The Beast Of White Orchard

Geralt had two quests, ask the hunter where he found the bodies, and to ask the herbalist about buckthorn. Tomira and Mislav. The sooner he got started the better.

He turned around in the brick built tower, going to the small pile of wooden barrels and crates and looting from them quickly, gaining a Meteorite ore, cotton and some water. With that done he descended the same steps he had earlier, going back into the military camp, gathering blowball from the floor, a plant that was very common in this part of the world. Without further ado he left the garrison. using the same doors to leave as the ones he'd used to enter. it seemed there was only one way in to the garrison. And one way out.

he stepped out onto the wooden stairs, to the little box that had some alcohest in, though as he looked at it, he didn't pick it up, there was a guard less than two metered away from him. Guards don't tolerate theft, so stealing something in full view of the guards, well, seemed like something that could end badly.

Geralt got to the bottom of the stairs. another painful minute of walking past Nilfgaardian soldiers. he mounted Roach who was at the stables nearby and made his way back over the wooden bridge. further and further away from the soldiers and back into his comfort zone. He rode past a man at a canter, continuing to ride on, wondering why the man seemed to be laughing like that. He rode along the path, past a trio of Nilfgaardian soldiers carrying long spiked weapons. It was a solid minute of riding after that he rode that there was a voice from nearby calling out making Geralt pull on Roch's reigns. "Whoa! Master Witcher!" he heard. "slower" Geralt whispered to his steed upon seeing a small hidden path curving off to the left of the main track. He swung his leg over the saddle, the other firmly in the stirrup as he lowered himself down and made his way over to the rather depressed man sat on a log. "what happened?" Geralt inquired immediately. "Monsters! Monsters from the swamp! Folk said the road was fraught with peril, but I wouldn't listen! got my comeuppance now!" the man who wore a bow on his back whimpered like a child who'd had his favourite toy thrown in a fire. "less moaning. more details. What happened? And how can I help? and remember, I don't work for free - Witchers' code and all." he reminded while shaking his head. the man was silent for a moment, weighing up his options before shrugging. his head and shoulders drooping before complying. "well. was on my way to the Black Ones trade. suddenly, my horse got spooked, ran clear off the road. we hit a bump, I went flying, and the horse and cart rolled on. Then I heard bubbling, neighing...slurping! something came out from the muck, devoured Asher, hooves and all!" he looked up to Geralt. "No doubt my goods're still on the cart...but I'm too afeared to go and see. thought maybe you...? I'm most concerned about a little box. Bring it to me. I beg you." he pleaded desperately. "Fine. I'll go. let you know if I find that box" Geralt said almost moodily. Geralt mounted Roach and turned her around. back up the path he'd just rode, the shadow of his horse and him cast to the left of them, he'd arrived at the garrison around one to two hours ago. seemed time always went so fast.

He rode his horse for a minute down the road, slowing down roach as the swamps approached, he looked down. two thin lines crushed deep into the dirt, tracks, and fresh. The small package at the edge of the swamp giving Geralt the idea that this may be where the little box with the cart was. He dismounted roach and knelt down. "Cart tracks. Rode off into the swamp" he observed aloud. He looted the package beside him, a red powder, Alchemists' powder. He took it before rising to his feet. He ran forward, no, he jogged, he could smell something up ahead, but he wasn't sure that was the way, the swamp dimmed his smelling ability and the swamps eroded away any further evidence that the cart traveled this way at all. He stopped by a huge tree a few feet away, some of the big main branches hacked off leaving little stumps at the side of the trees, he was more interested in the Verbena growing just before it in the wilds. He ran forward. his boots sloshing in the dirty water. footsteps louder than he hoped.

He arrived, it wasn't far. the merchant hadn't been exaggerating much either, the cart was broken, tipped on its side with all its cargo piled up and scattered around, the horse, dead in front of it. "Here's the cart... Cart's riddled with arrows. interesting...I should take a look around." Geralt said squatting briefly to examine the scene. A little gurgling sound in the distance drew him away from his task of finding the little black box, it sounded more like something choking, but Geralt didn't take a breath before drawing out his silver sword. He rounded the small tree that was blocking his vision to be met with the back of a green slimy creature. frankly it was just disgusting. Drowners. With its back to him, Geralt had the advantage, he spun and struck the silver blade into the monsters back, making it screech and turn around, instantly going to attack Geralt in return who barely had time to leap backwards out of the way. Geralt swung again and again, slashing the beast across the chest, that hit was a successful one against many not. Almost every swing of his weapon missed the Drowner as it hopped back. He took a huge step forward and swung his blade in an arc to the abdomen, ducking under the swinging arm coming towards him before stabbing the creature in the chest as it turned around, it screeched and choked and flailed around as it fell on its back, taking it's last breath.

There were two more Drowners surrounded the cart, crawling out of the swamps and the water to advance on Geralt. He killed them both in a matter of minutes, each. It was a struggle, he'd cast Quen to help shield himself from the more vicious lunges of the creatures, he still, through all that, was winded, had a scratch across his cheek from a sudden attack of an alert Drowner which had stunned him and in turn gained him a scratch across his arm, the cloth of his tunic shirt tearing at the injury, little blood spilling. After that he'd cast Quen again to ensure he was protected as much as possible. He sheathed his sword and went over to the dead Drowner, bending down and pulling out a short knife, with a thumb and finger pulled the tongue from the mouth before slicing the blade across it a few times before it completely separated.

Geralt turned around and went back to the cart, looking around. he'd walked straight past it earlier without noticing, too focused on the monsters. a body. a dead body, unfortunately for him, not for Geralt. He knelt down, taking his time in examining the corpse. "square in the neck. good shot." he mumbled to himself. "Either the merchant's got serious memory problems, or he's lying" Geralt stood up started running to the cart until he stopped. just before it was a patch of marsh grass, flattened out and squished just in front of a tree, why? A box. Perhaps the one the merchant was discussing. He bent down and picked it up, it was locked. looked like a bag a medic or healer would carry around with all their tools in. He picked up the Locked strongbox and made his way back over to Roach. "Must be that box he mentioned. splattered with blood...human blood "

He found the path easily again, following it until the area opened up and he could see the merchant's snow white horse through the thin trees. "Oh! And? you find the box?" the merchant asked from his place on the fallen log. "yeah. found your priceless chest. and someone who looks an awful lot like a cart driver...with an arrow through his neck." he grumbled as the merchant stood. "No Dryads in these swamps, and never known a Drowner or a water hag to use a bow. so lacking any other suspects. I'm guessing..." he shrugged and was stopped when the man spoke. "watch out! behind you!" he whimpered. his eyes were moving back and forth be Geralt and the space between him, nervously. The Witcher crossed his arms. "there's nothing behind me. I'm a Witcher. I'd have heard it. just like I can hear your heart. which is pounding...like a liar's" Geralt turned his head and watched as the man scampered immediately to his horse. "best hope you're a better rider than you are a liar" he told him as Geralt raced to roach, mounted her and followed the merchant's, along the more flat pathway and after running past the guards Geralt went from a canter to a gallop. Both horses neighed as they drew closer to one another, both horses panicking a little as Geralt drew his steel weapon, he drew his blade back and hit him with the pommel of his sword, making the liar slow down and all but stop riding as the merchant fell unconscious to the floor. "what now, you piece of filth?" Geralt growled. "gotta get him outta here" Geralt mumbled, sword clenched in his hand.

"wake up" Geralt said moodily in a deep tone. he stood over the unconscious body, glaring down at him in the sun, he'd dragged him to the side of the path and laid him there, thinking of what he was going to say. "see, can't run from the truth...not even on horseback. Now, who are you? and why'd you attack that cart?" Geralt scolded. The merchant gave up, opening his eyes before sitting up, his body position slumped in defeat. "Private First class John Geermer. Temerian Sixth Division, second regiment. Disbanded, but still active - underground, in the woods." he told Geralt standing up with a hand on his knee. "that was a medical transport. I'd be damned if it reached the black ones. and the medicine - our lads could use it, too. we've many Ill among us. You let me go, and they might live...and fight once more for a free north." The merchant pleaded. Geralt weighed up his options. he could take him to the Nilfgaardians, let him go, or also keep the medicine. "Fine, go. and may you and your soldier buddies hiding in the bushes be victorious in your struggle against Nilfgaard." he warned, the merchant let out a big breath and a faint smile showed. "you've a vile sense of humour...but you're a decent man. Here, the gold I promised. use it well - drink to the silver Lillie's and to Foltest's memory." the merchant said giving Geralt thirty crowns.