Hello, Gwynbleidd...

Chapter Twenty-one: Crookback Bog and broken ribs

The next day, Jordan and Geralt came up with a plan. They would ride for Oxenfurt to find Tamara after the botchling was dealt with. Then, they would return to Vellen and aid the Baron in getting his wife back...

It was another week until they could get to Oxenfurt. Jordan and Geralt still had to share a horse, as the one from the Baron had been put down after the fire.

They arrived in the city and went straight to Tamara, telling her that her father was looking. That he was worried...but they weren't about to drag her home against her will...

When they arrived back at Crow's Perch two days later, they informed the Baron of the Witches of Crookback Bog and they got on the move...

***

Jordan stepped deftly through the swamp. Walking with Geralt, the Baron and his men. Other than encountering the occasional​ Drowner or Water Hag, they reached the bog's orphanage fairly easily...

When they found Tamara fighting, they assisted her and the Sacred Fire Hunters in clearing out the onslaught of Drowners and Hags...

Then, everything turned cold...

Jordan kept her sword in hand, looking out into the bog, "Geralt, stay close," she said and he was a bit confused.

"What's coming?" he asked quietly.

Jordan grimaced, "A Fiend with a mean streak," she said before turning to the Baron and Tamara, "Stand ready! The Witches won't give us a second chance!" she shouted and all nodded.

Then, the sky grew dark and a bellowing roar erupted from the swamp. The next thing anyone knew, a Fiend with great horns and claws emerged from the darkness.

Geralt and Jordan looked at each other and nodded before both charging the beast, ducking under its chest, slicing the wrists of its great large arms. Jordan then smirked and drove her blade up through the Fiend's flank, as deeply as it would go, all the way to the hilt.

The beast wouldn't go down right away however. Not before swatting Jordan away as if she were a rag doll, her blade still embedded in the creature.

Jordan didn't have time to scream before she hit a tree sideways, feeling her rib cage shoot with pain. When she hit the ground it only grew worse, "Ack!" she gasped for air, the wind knocked forcefully from her lungs.

The Fiend finally collapsed as Jordan lay there coughing up blood. Geralt ran to her side, pulling a Swallow potion from his belt.

Tamara came walking over, "Why's she rasping like that...?" she asked cautiously.

Geralt got her to drink the potion, "The wind was knocked out of her when she hit the tree...broke a few of her ribs," he spoke in monotone, "Can you stand?" he asked quietly and Jordan grunted before nodding, still trying to find her breath, glad to have a Witcher's pain tolerance.

Geralt helped her up, resting a hand on her shoulder as her ribs would need time to heal, "I've got you," he said as she stumbled, doubling over slightly as she wheezed.

"I-I'm fine...let's get this done..." she rasped, walking with Geralt to go and finish the job...

***

Anna was freed. And the Baron was taking her south to the Blue Mountains to treat her broken mind. Tamara went back to her Church of the Eternal Fire. When Jordan and Geralt got the rest of the information they needed, they set out for the City of Novigrad...

They made camp that night near a river. Jordan hissed in pain at every pinch or pull as Geralt bound her ribs, "Stop whining," he scolded, "They'll heal in two days, maybe three," he informed her.

Jordan just scowled, gritting her teeth as he bound her torso tight. She sat on the ground in front of him, her back to him as she sat in her trousers, boots and bralette, her hands gripping her knees as Geralt worked.

Geralt just sat behind her, focusing on his work. He decided to talk to her, to distract her. He had been curious about the tattoo on her back anyway. It was the symbol of the School of the Wolf, printed into her flesh in the center of her back, between her shoulder blades.

"When did you have this done?" he asked, "The tattoo, I mean," he specified and Jordan chuckled painfully​.

"Four years ago for a sweet sixteen present," she groaned, "I couldn't think of what to get. So, I just drew the symbol, handed it to the artist and got it done," Jordan shrugged, "Why do you ask?" she inquired and Geralt smiled.

"Trying to make conversation," he replied idly, "Any others?" Geralt asked.

Jordan smiled to herself, "Hmm...one other, but you'll never see it," she smirked and Geralt raised a brow.

"It's on your backside, isn't it?" he asked bluntly.

Jordan shook her head, "Inner thigh, right leg. It's a rose," she said, remembering the torture of getting it, just to have a tattoo to be like Ciri...she had never imagined just how similar they actually were.

Geralt laughed at this. He and Jordan were very similar as well...