Lann thought that perhaps Foltest would have a different opinion now that the situation in Cintra hadn't completely collapsed like in The Witcher Series, but apparently that wasn't the case.
"My Lord, what shall we do next, shall we go to deliver the letter of introduction to King Foltest?"
House understood the basic rules of court etiquette and he also understood Lann's thoughts, knowing that in these diplomatic situations, even if one was displeased internally, he had to contain his emotions to take care of the image of both parties. Especially now that Cintra was at a disadvantage.
"If he doesn't want to see us, handing over the letter won't do any good." Lann said. But then he thought for a moment. After all, they were in someone else's territory, and although the host might ignore their presence, they couldn't just not say hello.
"Okay, we'd better deliver the letter. We'll leave in two days anyway. Temeria is just a step on our way. Our priority is in Redania."
Levin suddenly suggested: "Isn't Ms. Triss the royal advisor here? Can you ask her for help?"
Lann shook his head: "Triss is not in Temeria now."
While Lann and his companions argued, the tavern owner arrived with a tray with several pitchers of Viziman Champion beer, carefully trying to serve this table of difficult-to-treat customers.
Milva quickly took the tray before the owner approached, and with a smile she placed a full pitcher of beer in front of Lann. As she put down the pitcher, she spilled some beer, almost soaking Lann's hand.
House and Levin were planning to thank Milva for the drinks, but they watched her grab another pitcher for herself and then push the tray forward, clearly uninterested in serving the rest.
The two of them drank the beer in silence, and then exclaimed to get rid of the embarrassment. "You really have to drink Viziman Champion beer in Temeria, the taste is just different..."
"Madam, is there any recent interesting news in White Orchard?" Levin asked as he finished his beer.
Elsa looked at the Cintra soldiers, and then thought about the drinks and food they could consume, suddenly a smile appeared on her face. "If we are talking about recent important events, then it would be about Nilfgaard..."
She briefly glanced at the lion emblem on Lann and his three attendants and said: "But I imagine the knights are more interested in hearing local stories. Something interesting happened recently."
"A witcher recently arrived at White Orchard..."
Upon hearing this, everyone put down their beer pitchers, and Lann showed interest as he began to remember which witchers might have been in White Orchard during that period.
Lann was about to continue asking when he saw several of his cavalrymen stand up and form a human wall to protect the group.
On the other side of the tavern, several dwarves were approaching.
House frowned: "Dwarves, what do you want?"
The dwarf leader, with a Mohican hair style and a deep brown beard, pulled at the leader of another group of dwarves, apparently trying to lower his voice, but his tone was still high. "Yarpen, I told you that this is a noble. Is this what you, a stupid pig, can talk to?"
"Watch it, Zoltan, you stubborn sledgehammer!" The dragged dwarf seemed to be drunk, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Those eyes... although they are a little different, I wasn't wrong! You always distrust the stories I tell you about witchers, you call me a conceited buffoon. Today I will show you what I am capable of!"
Since Lann entered the tavern, he noticed these dwarves. The current situation in the Northern Kingdoms is not as serious as it will be in the future. The Scoia'tael formed by Nilfgaard has not completely detonated the contradictions between the human and non-human races in the north.
Although it was evident that humans and dwarves did not get along, they had not reached the point of complete hostility.
The dwarves were clearly divided into two groups, with two leaders that Lann recognized.
Since these 'acquaintances' were making an effort to get to know him, Lann had no intention of rejecting them right away.
"Let our dwarf friends join us." Lann said, motioning for the soldiers to return to their seats and greeting the tavern owners. "Give each of our dwarf friends another pitcher of beer."
The dwarves smiled widely, and Lann's servants, following his order, brought out more tables to accommodate the small group.
Yarpen slapped the table happily. "I said it! Witchers are great guys!"
Zoltan looked much more stable. "Hello, your honor, I am Zoltan Chivay. I used to be a soldier of Mahakam, but now I am a businessman."
Zoltan pointed to the excited Yarpen again. "This is Yarpen Zigrin. You may have heard of his name. He and his partners formed a mercenary group together, so he should be somewhat famous."
"Of course, the famous Yarpen, I have heard your story in poetry. You once hunted a dragon." Lann toasted. "Nice to meet you. I am Lann Lannister. Count of Cintra."
"I've heard of you too!" Yarpen slammed his beer pitcher on the table after hearing the name. "I've heard about you too. They call you now... 'The Lion', right? I heard rumors that the White Wolf is on your side too!"
"Yes." Lann nodded. "Geralt is a very good friend of mine, and he is also a very powerful warrior."
"That's right, that's right!" Yarpen shouted happily. Hearing praise about his hero, he was even more excited than if he was praised. "Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf. He can take on eight men with just his sword!"
House seemed a little displeased with the way the dwarves were jumping up and down in front of his lord, the Earl. Levin's face was expressionless, but Milva was full of curiosity about this group of demi-human races that she had never seen before.
The atmosphere in the tavern became increasingly lively as people watched this strange combination on the table. Some local soldiers quietly slipped out of the tavern to report the presence of the cavalry, only to return later with a relaxed attitude, shaking their heads to indicate that it was no cause for concern.
However, this relaxed and happy atmosphere did not last long.
The door of the tavern burst open, and a man entered, drenched in sweat and attracting all eyes present. "The witcher who came to White Orchard a few days ago was arrested!"
After taking a breath, the man who sent the message explained: "Lord Verrieres arrested the witcher who recently came to White Orchard. The Lord accused the witcher of kidnapping the beekeeper's child!"
"Lord Verrieres is going to judge the witcher this afternoon and demands that all the people of White Orchard attend as witnesses to the judgment!"
...
White Orchard, underground cell.
A disheveled man with a dirty face was kneeling inside the cell. The ground was covered in rotten straw, emitting a foul smell.
He was tall and strong, but now physically exhausted. He appeared to have been beaten, as evidenced by bruises and several cuts on his face.
He was a witcher, who came from Nilfgaard, not for a political mission, but for his own school: the School of the Viper.
Witchers were once glorious. They once had countless advanced technologies, exquisite alchemy equipment, and amazing equipment. However, with the passage of time, most of these have been lost.
This witcher had taken on the task of recovering the lost blueprints of his school's team, hoping to revive the Viper School by creating enchanted armor and weapons.
He had traveled from the south to the north, passing through many places. He had already recovered most of the lost plans. Now, he planned to rest for a while in a town before returning home, but he did not expect that a child would disappear, and he was arrested as a suspect without any explanation.
To avoid conflict with the local nobles and ensure that he got the plans to his school without problems, he decided not to get into conflict and agreed to be handcuffed, awaiting a fair trial.
"Witcher, are you still awake? It's time to eat." A childish voice sounded, with the sound of dishes.
The man did not move. His eyes did not open, but he still responded in disbelief at the child's arrival: "Are there such young jailers in White Orchard?"
The boy looked curiously at the witcher who was resting with his eyes closed and said: "I'm not a jailer, I'm just here to bring you food."
The boy hesitated for a moment, and then asked in a slightly expectant tone: "I heard that you are a witcher, is it true?"
The man in the cell chuckled and affirmed: "I was arrested for that. I suppose you've also heard that I'm accused of kidnapping a child, a child your age."
The boy wrinkled his nose. "That was Vitty, the beekeeper's son. We played together. But you didn't do that, did you?"
The man kneeling in the cell moved slightly, as if he couldn't believe what the boy had just said. Everyone these days seemed to think he was guilty. "The villagers accuse me, the lord accuses me too, but it seems you have a different opinion. What makes you think like that, child?"
The boy bit his lip, put the food he had brought next to the cell, hesitated and said: "I heard a poem by a bard, his name was Dan..."
"He was very good at telling stories and he sang very well. Once he sang about a very powerful warrior called 'White Wolf', he said that he was also a witcher."
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