Chapter 3: Whos your daddy
The fire in the fireplace crackled cheerfully in the hallway, chasing away the cold that seeped in through the gaps in the doors and windows.
Dinner was incredibly opulent.
Geralt and the other two came back with a full load of supplies from the outside world, enough to sustain them in the castle all winter without worrying about food, even if they did nothing.
The atmosphere at the dinner table was extremely lively.
This was to be expected. Although Kaer Morhen was the base of the Wolf School, the Wolf School Witchers only gathered here in winter every year.
Even Vesemir, who was responsible for training apprentices, would take a trip down the mountain alone every now and then to villages at the foot of the Blue Mountains to make some cash by signing monster hunting jobs to feed the apprentices.
Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert were like children working hard outside, talking about what had been going on with them during the previous year.
Vesemir sat like an old father at home, listening with a smile.
The mood at the table was very harmonious until Lambert said a name.
"Did Berengar say if he would be back this winter?"
Geralt and Eskel stopped talking suddenly.
As if Lambert had uttered some forbidden word.
Vesemir placed his beer on the table and shook his head.
"I thought he would return with you."
Lambert scowled: "That stinky boy, how many winters has he not come back? Has he forgotten who he is!"
"Lambert, have a drink." Geralt picked up his glass and clinked it against Lambert's.
Berengar.
As soon as this name was mentioned, the figure of a man entered Lynn's thoughts.
Berengar was a Witcher of the Wolf School, too, but unlike Geralt and others, he did not feel he belonged to Kaer Morhen like the others.
In reality, he hated his life and was resentful towards the brutality of the world.
He wanted to wed and have children like a regular human being, not being spat upon wherever he went due to his cat eyes.
But the status of a Witcher deprived him of these prospects.
It was for this reason that in the original narrative, he left Kaer Morhen for good and never came back to this fortress of warm fire and home that could be so described.
In this regard, Berengar was a bit like Lambert, neither of whom became a Witcher by choice.
The difference was that Lambert, despite his dislike of it, still regarded Geralt and the others as comrades and kin.
And Berengar was keen to sever all contact with Witchers.
"Let us not talk of these gloomy things, let us talk of other things."
Eskel pulled out two newly bought packs of cards and put them on the table.
An instant magnet to everyone's attention.
"I worked as a guard for a dwarven caravan a few months ago, and this was a present from the caravan leader."
"He said that this card game Gwent was first a traditional table-top game featuring dwarves, and now it's spreading gradually. Gwent is employed in some regions to replace dice."
Lambert spat wine from his mouth: "No way, Eskel, do you really think this kind of garbage?"
Eskel wiped wine from his face.
"I don't know whether it can replace dice, but I have played a few games, and it's actually a lot more thrilling than rolling dice to decide on sizes. Want to play? How about it?"
Vesemir, being older, did not care for new things he was unaware of.
Then Geralt and Lambert waived their hands, not being the first to try it.
But at that moment, Lynn suddenly offered: "I'll try."
"This."
Eskel looked at Vesemir.
Lynn immediately understood what Eskel was worried about.
So he quickly said: "We'll just play cards, no games of chance."
To his surprise, Vesemir spoke very bluntly: "It doesn't matter, the flowers in the greenhouse will someday have to withstand the wind and rain outside. It's sure to happen sooner or later, and it's not bad to get a little rain first."
Eskel was relieved.
"Since the old fellow said so, I don't care either. Pay attention, the rules are such and such."
In fact, Gwent is a very old dwarven entertainment item.
The rules were established long ago.
It's just that so far, this game is loved only by dwarves.
But soon Gwent will become popular among humans, dwarves, elves, and halflings very much.
By then, a unique card made by a dwarven master will even qualify as art.
...
Lynn and Eskel sat facing each other on the table.
Upon explaining the rules, the two officially began the duel.
The others waited and watched.
Half an hour elapsed.
"Damn it, that's impossible."
Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert were all stunned.
Even highly educated Witcher Vesemir had an expression of shock on his face.
A few dozen gold coins from all over the world, shining in the fire, were stacked together in front of Lynn.
And these gold pieces were in Eskel's possession half an hour ago.
Lynn struggled to suppress a smug look.
Actually, the two decks of Northern Realms cards which Eskel introduced were both categories of ordinary Northern Realms cards.
They resembled each other.
Therefore, only the one skill one could fight here.
For other people's impression, he first played Gwent tonight only.
But individuals would not even suspect that he is actually a Gwent game player with more than a thousand hours of gameplaying experience.
"Then why not let me take a try at it?"
Lambert, who didn't care, couldn't help but scratch after seeing Lynn and Eskel wrestle.
For goodness' sake, this thing is kind of interesting.
Lynn swept the deck off the table and grinned and said, "Do you want me to show you the rules first?"
Lambert growled, "Kid, don't get so arrogant. I'll whip you so bad you'll call me daddy later."
Half an hour passed.
"Who's the one calling daddy now?"
Lynn smiled on his face.
Lambert, who was sitting opposite him, threw the cards in his hand in anger.
"This broken thing can't be popular! If it can be popular, I'll eat all these cards!"
"Hahaha—"
Geralt and Eskel laughed so hard that they leaned back and forth.
You know, there are not many opportunities to laugh at Lambert like this.
Lynn held his giggles in and looked at the White Wolf: "Do others wish to play, Geralt?"
Watches Eskel and Lambert losing in succession, Geralt has no heart for playing and waves his hand peremptorily: "I'd prefer to spend it on wine or abalone."
Seeing that no one was in the mood to play anymore, Lynn reorganized the cards scattered on the table into two packs and handed them out to Eskel.
But Eskel just took one pack.
Lynn gazed at him bewildered.
"I'll give you that deck of cards." Eskel said.
"In that case." Lynn didn't hesitate, took the cards, then shoved Eskel's money he had lost back to Eskel.
"Then take back this money. I will not take your hard-earned money for working abroad."
The air became suddenly quiet.
Geralt, Eskel, and even Lambert's eyes were filled with shock.
Only the face of Vesemir was relieved and approving.
.
"It's already late, it's time to sleep early, boys."
Vesemir stood up.
But then his face suddenly became serious.
"Did you hear that?"
Lynn was shocked upon hearing the words.
But then he also heard the very light footfalls that were hardly audible if not for the mutation.
Everyone in the hall looked at the hall door.
A man stepped out of the shadows and into the light.
His locks were ashen with white strips on his temples, his complexion was as white as a corpse, he possessed a hooked nose, and yellow-green eyes sporting a pair of vertical pupils.
He pulled a silver badge from under his shirt.
It hung around his neck, shining with the light from the fire.
It was the head of a fanged cat.