Januari 26, 2017
while in crookback bog, ciri had happened on the crones... the beastly sisters took her in, then wavered, unsure if they should eat her or surrender her to the wild hunt. ciri escaped before they could decide. pursued by a spectral rider, she had fled into the swamp. wounded and tired, ciri collapsed in the swamp. some peasants found her and took her to the baron - velen's self-appointed ruler. the warlord took the young woman in, had her nursed back to health, then sent her on her way to novigrad. as the emperor's spies told it, ciri had reached novigrad. a lone attempt to find her in the north's largest city would certainly fail...
...but geralt had friends he could count on. the witcher decided to contact triss merigold. [screaming] no evil can survive the holy fire! the holy fire enlightens, burns, and cleanses! crowd: holy fire! enlighten, burn, and cleanse! behold the flame of grace and mercy! special pyre for you, freak - nice, slow burning. you'll beg for mercy in all the voices known to you, like the others of your species.
i've done no wrong! none! i wanted only to live like you! help me, kind folk! please! [hacking coughs] aaaagh! [coughing] gods...! a doppler! geralt: sure hope dudu hasn't met the same fate. hey! sod off! we're looting here! not here for the loot. interested in the sorceress who lived here.
and we're supposed to believe that? yeah. most likely hiding in some rat trap like the rest of 'em. - who's she hiding from?- temple guard's crackin' down. all mages are fair game. they round 'em up like rats. someone's gotta know more. i'd look for her in the putrid grove. putrid grove? interesting...as names go. a hive of scum and freakery if there ever was one. no decent folk show their hides there.
- that why you think i should look for my friend there?- uh, meant no offense! putrid grove - where is it? i wouldn't know. rumor has it, it's a place for freaks and oddities. you'd fit in well there. maybe. thing is, gotta know how to get there. they say you gotta get there through the sewers, but you gotta enter them outside of town. few know where exactly, though. ask a beggar. or spot yourself a thief and follow him. beggars an' thieves gotta pay tribute to the king of beggars. word is, they do it in the grove. mean to say the local beggars have a king? crown, scepter, and all that?
wouldn't scoff, mate. king of beggars - it's a moniker. yeah, for a man who everyone in novigrad respects - deeply. and watch yourself. menge himself don't even go to the grove. someone call for me? wonder why?... looter 1: it's menge!looter 2: temple guard! thieving vermin to the confession chamber. oh but, sir... what's the offense? this is some sorceress bitch's shop! think that gives you the right to steal her property? well...sorcerers, mages of all types are outlaws.
but by law, the temple guard takes possession of their belongings. and the rule of law still holds in novigrad. you know a bat can sniff out a moth a mile away? got nothing to do with their sense of smell. it's about their hearing. well, well. man knows his bats. here i thought you only cared about monsters. and as bats sense moths, so i sense freaks. and start by warning them - novigrad's no place for your kind. heard novigrad was no place for mages. now you're telling me it's no place for witchers. so who's it a place for? righteous folk professing the one true faith in the eternal fire. nothing i can do to you now, but just know that i know you're here.
one misstep, one error...you'll make a mistake, it's inevitable. i'll be the first to learn of it, and when i do it'll be standard procedure. like for every magic oddity who dares taint this city's air. be seein' ya. oh, deepest apologies, guv'nor. fetch some mettle, you wretch! i've been robbed! thief! [knock] open up! who are you and what you want? take a look - what do you see?
yellow eyes, pair of swords...mutated killer methinks. heard this spot was a meeting place for oddities. that's right. know the password, get in free... don't know it, gotta contribute to the grove's upkeep. don't know the password. pay up then. i won't pay. let me in. (dazed) yes, sir. mage: what ails you?beggar: can't see outta one eye, m'lord.
mage: icht'am'azrain. beggar: thank you, m'lord. a right miracle you've worked. i'd like to repay you. mage: convince those knaves on the city council that spells are not needed on a whim, but positively indispensable... 'bout time we made something clear, sorceress. yes. high time. me and my men'll manage just fine without the help of you or any other mages. but you - well, without our help you're sitting ducks for the temple guard. who do i spy...? geralt...?
hey, triss. see you two know each other. see you two know each other well. i was curious whether you'd manage to find me, witcher. your spies tell you i was looking for the putrid grove? my skull'd be a hoome for bottom-feedin' river fish if i didn't keep an ear to the ground. and please, "putrid grove"? ugly name for our cozy little hideout, wouldn't you say? so what would *you* call this dive? dunno. the "garden of liberty" maybe?
for a man who shakes down beggars and thieves for tribute, you're quite the romantic. you say "tribute", i say "taxes". you say "thieves", i say "hard-working street clerks". see, witcher - i've got plans. big plans. far-reaching plans to reshape this city head to toe. ever thought of seeking a seat on the city council? city countil is a puppet troupe with the hierarchy of the church of the eternal fire as its puppeteer. until recently, that is, when radovid and his witch hunters took the reins. the semblance of power don't interest me.
a man with a vision. one day the so-called free city of novigrad will be truly free. but before that can happen, we gotta rid it of superstition. farting around about the hallowed essence of the eternal fire - nonsense for kiddies. apparently not. cheering crowd at the execution, mostly adults. any crowd of rabble'll cheer to the stench of burning flesh. but one day folk'll understand the eternal fire's naught but a leash around their necks. they call this place the putrid grove. but it's the rest of novigrad that's putrefied.
this here's the last bastion of normality, sanity, reason. i'm actually glad someone like you's found his way to our city. 'cause it will be our city one day, geralt. mark my words. "yours" - plural? yeah - mine... ...and me friends. but that's a tale for another time. for now, i'll leave you two alone. 'cause i can see... well, you clearly need it. geralt, i have a lot of things to take care of in town.
i'll be glad to tag along. geralt: what's your arrangement? he using you?triss: helping me to survive, actually. geralt: six months ago if somebody said triss merigold would be working for a novigrad criminal i'd never have believed it. triss: six months ago triss merigold parted with someone very dear to her and had to start anew. triss: hasn't turned out like i'd imagined. come on - let me give you a taste of my life. madame sorceress, beautiful as ever. damn shame to part. i take it you're in novigrad on important business. don't fret. bound to be back soon.i take it you're in novigrad on important business. important doesn't do it justice. i'm looking for someone.
more precisely? young woman - who's like a daughter to me. her...? here? no, impossible. she was here. there are witnesses, evidence. was hoping you'd heard something. you've been here a while. i need you to help me find something, anything, a trace. i'll do everything i can, of course. who might know more...? hello, kluhg. manage to get those magical incense ingredients? (hesitantly) yes... somewhat with, uh, difficulties, you might say. i was walking along the canal with a sack full of goodies for you.
looked up and spied a trio of temple guards coming the other way. get to the point, klugh. no time today for one of your long stories. wait! a sack full of magicalities and they were coming straight towards me! i don't easily frighten, but, uh, i felt a cold sweat on my arse, i did. i'm afraid i had no choice. i threw the sack in the water. i had to! when asked why, i claimed it contained a dead cat. you shan't believe this, but they believed me! i need that package, kluhg. i've got a contract. it must be on the canal bed. lukily it was heavy enough to sink. i'm sure it will turn up if you search. you expect me to pay you, then dive for my goods into that ice-cold filth?
i can do that. where'd you toss the package? near the crane. second bridge in from the harbor. i didn't expect such devotion. wanted to freshen up anyway. let's go. (hushed) stop! hear that? they've come for us! temple guardsman 1: (muffled) the fool didn't break until i began to prick his heels. temple guardsman 2: (muffled) every man's got his sensitive spots. temple guardsman 2: interrogated a mage once. pain couldn't touch him. tore off his fingernails, crushed his bollocks - nothing! temple guardsman 2: turned out he was devilishly ticklish. i placed a beetle on his belly and set a mug atop it. damn near went mad.
we were lucky this time but... you'd best leave via the sewers. the trap door's in the floor. take care of yourself, kluhg. geralt: what now, you piece of filth?! geralt: [cries out] drowner: [hiss] there's a draft... should be an exit here. kluhg wouldn't have sent us here if there wasn't. must be a lever on this wall that'll open the secret passage. [scraping noise] geralt: "free city of novigrad" - name actually used to mean something.
triss: the very reason so many mages came here after the massacre at loc muinne. thought they'd be safe from radovid's reapers. triss: instead they jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. triss: but novigrad stands on top of a mountain of coin, and winning a war takes three things: coin, coin, and even more coin. triss: that's why they're exterminating mages, confiscating their property and possessions. triss: and they'll go after nonhumans next. the elves occupy slums but the dwarves practically control financial life in this city. geralt: official word is that novigrad'll remain neutral. somehow doubt anyone believes that anymore. judging by what kluhg said the parcel should be around here on the bottom. unless the poor man was mistaken. he's been forgetful ever since menge interrogated him. seems to be suffering from a persecution complex, too. current must've carried the sack seaward. i'll swim towards the port. coming with?
uh, maybe some other time. don't know what you're missing. water's thick with pungent oils. guessing it'll do wonders for my complexion. find the parcel? or did you get wet for no reason? nothing like a refreshing swim in a filthy canal. found a few fish, a rusty anchor, the carcass of a boat... oh, and this. oh, my package! hope the contents aren't soaked through. oh, you're a doll! geralt: seem to be in your element. triss: still remember my elements? how i used them? geralt: come on, six months isn't that long. it's not like i'm senile.
triss: but you do have a history of amnesia. geralt: i've recovered my memory, completely. triss: good. that should stop people from taking advantage of you. geralt: someone's been taking advantage of me? triss: i have, for one. geralt: i've never even intimated--triss: we need to hurry. greetings, sorceress. greetings, brandon. i didn't expect you to bring company.
triss, you told this man you're a sorceress? of course. she was looking for work. that's her chief asset. geralt: are you, triss? i know it was reckless, but competition's stiff here. no one would hire me if i claimed to be a common rat-catcher. more importantly, no one would believe such a beauty could be an exterminator of rodents. but i'd prefer you not to tarry, and begin. triss - you and brandon here - you've agreed a price? we settled on a full coin purse. brandon and co. is a serious outfit. we've the largest granary in all novigrad.
don't much like merchants who flatter with cheap praise before the job's done. that was not cheap praise. i was merely stating a fact. so am i. i want you to pay in full in advance. - i'm afraid that's impossible.- then trap your own rats. well now i know why she brought you along. fine... a full purse of novigrad crowns, as proof of my good will. we need to place these crystals around the granary, near anything that looks rat-related. triss: i'll cover half the space, you take the other half. look for evidence of rat activity.
geralt: mhm. thing is - i know what evidence of manticore activity looks like, but rodents...? triss: geralt, we'd both rather be somewhere else. i'd rather be sitting in a royal council meeting, but they killed my king. triss: look for crevices... and droppings. geralt: once we place this incense, what then? triss: i'll cast a spell and the rats will leave. geralt: can't do that without sprinkling incense? don't really feel up to looking for rat shit. triss: stop whining. [rats squeaking] geralt: looks like a good spot.
geralt: i don't like that guy.triss: brandon? i don't either. he's much too fat. geralt; can't help but agree, but no. notice how he didn't try to haggle? triss: must really want the rats out. geralt: triss, he's a merchant. he makes his living by haggling. triss: if i worried about that sort of thing, i'd starve to death in this city. geralt: a master monster-slayer in the world's largest city looking for rat shit... jeez. geralt: think i plugged every hole in there. triss: all right. get ready for some magic fireworks.[flames pop] triss: once i activate the incense we'll have a moment to talk.
triss: well? now we wait for them to scurry away. interesting method. never had much luck with rats. once, i hit one with a fork in complete darkness, trying to show off my witcher senses. masterful throw, really. problem was no one else saw it. how could they in the dark? [laugh] so, what do you think? "rat-catcher" - it's a long way to fall from being adviser to temeria's king. i'm just glad to see you safe and sound. and... reconciled? i was worried about seeing you again. doubted it could be pleasant.
we said everything there was to say six months ago. i don't want to go back to that. i'm not going back to it. it's just... it's one thing to say something, it's another to actually do it. we promised to remain friends. i hope nothing will change that. so... tell me how yen's doing? how do you know i found her? you didn't answer my question. how's yen? mm, not bad. asking about anything specific? never mind. i got my answer.
[squeaking grows louder] [loud squeaking continues] well, well. our lovebirds having themselves a little chat instead of working? the job's done... geralt, those are-- geralt: i know who they are, triss. my friends begged me to notify them if i encountered a mage, sorceress, what have you. didn't have the heart to refuse. [flames pop]- it's a trap, geralt!- this stank from the start. if these boys are here to help us kill rats, they're late. you paid up front and got what you paid for. not half a rodent left in the granary.
i paid in advance because i knew i'd recover my coin. triss: such is life for sorceresses in novigrad these days. i can see that and i don't like it. so here's what i think: the hunters have come, and now they can go. they'll do no such thing! ok, we talked. do what you gotta. just remember: i can't help but get in your way. - heard enough from this whoreson!- as have i. neither is to leave here alive. [flames pop]triss: hah! [aard booms][witch hunters groan]
witch hunter: he killed him! geralt: mistake. witch hunter: [scream] witch hunter: [groan] triss: bastard hired me on the assumption he wouldn't have to pay me. triss: duped and trapped like a child. if not for you... we need to find brandon. don't kill me! good sir, no! they forced me! had i not told them, they'd have set fire to my home, my warehouse! the mage hunters know no mercy. spare me, good man. be not like those murderers!
shut up! i should kill you. thing is, you'll be no good to anyone but the gulls as a corpse. so you'll live... and pay us double. now! (quivering) f-f-fine... your coin. now, get! thanks, geralt. no need. glad i could help. you know, i've been thinking... who might know something about ciri, and i just got an idea. there's an oneiromancer in town - corrine tilly. very capable, supposedly.
never trusted in dreamers' abilities, myself. corrine's been very effective. you should at least try. she's taken a job close by. follow the canal, away from the fish market. the house is near the first bridge. its owner, de jonkheer, is a rich banker. - not coming with me?- i've got some things to take care of. another rat-infested warehouse? not exactly. nothing even remotely satisfying. such are the times... thanks for everything. see you, triss. mhm. see you.
how do i find you if i need you? i live in the bits. head up the hill past the fish market. stop by. be seein' you. just passing by, wanderer? or do you seek something specific? - who's asking?-rudolf de jonkheer. of *those* de jonkheers, yes. my ancestors laid the foundations of this city. i now own its largest bank. didn't need a recommendation. name would've been enough. rudolf: father always said, "all ought to know your merits, son. don't hide them under a bushel." - i'm looking for corrine tilly.- well you've come to the right place, then.
corrine is inside. been there for a few days, dreaming the home's history. why do you need to know the house's history? you a historian, or on a whim? i bought this property a short while ago. paid a pretty penny, i might add. rudolf: soon after, i witnessed... disturbances. led me to fear the home might be haunted. geralt: what are the symptoms?rudolf: oh, t-they vary. rudolf: giggling in the night... a-and furniture moving about in the attic. and last week... well, you shan't believe it... i found human feces in the parlor. i'd like to go inside, look around. i don't usually let strangers rummage around my home. twin swords, though... you're a witcher.
you may enter, call that my whim. [door creaks open and closed] woman's voice: put it down, please! that's blood - don't spill it! please! [door creaks open] corrine: [scream] corrine: [rapid breaths] geralt: [sigh] corrine: [rapid, heavy breaths]geralt: wake up, it's just a dream! wake up! corrine: [heavy breathing continues]
[muffled clatter] the doll... corrine: ...the attic... [gasp] [ceiling creaks softly] geralt: all right. time to check the attic. corrine: put it down, please! that's blood - don't spill it! please! [child's laughter, distorted and faint] geralt: way to the next room's blocked... [aard booms]
[debris clatters] [child's laughter, distorted and faint]geralt: strange stuff. a doll... drawing shows it lying in a cradle. maybe i should find one. corrine: stop, go away! don't do that! leave it! corrine: [gasping, panting] geralt: another masterpiece... an oven and a blackened grate. oh joy... a riddle. guess i should find an oven. boo! did i scare you? scared you, didn't i? [giggle] could tell you were scared.
a big, brave man scared of wee little sarah, ain't that funny! i wouldn't do that anymore if i were you, sarah. you might scare someone so bad they'll hurt you. why would someone hurt me? having a spot of fun's not allowed anymore? - what are you playing?- that lady fell asleep, and i've sent her some horrible dreams. i'll not her awake, neither. i can do that, you know. funny, isn't it? very funny. thing is, i gotta talk to the dreamer, so i'd like you to let her wake up. little sarah doesn't want her to wake. little sarah wants to play. you're lucky. i know you're a harmless godling, but others might not know, and then-- an' how'd you know i'm a godling, eh? how's that, eh? eh?
if it looks like one and acts like one... trust me, you're a godling. you give the dreamer nightmares and won't let her wake up. why are you tormenting her? i'm not tormenting anyone! scary dreams are great. what i love is when this big hen chases me. hen's got these red-- why do you live in a haunted house? tell you a secret... [giggle]... the house ain't haunted, not one bit. i just pretend it is, make everyone think that. it was sitting there all empty, so i moved in. bigwig from the bank then came and bought it. i don't like bankers, 'specially not to live with, so i decided to give him a scare. gave the banker a really *big* scare. see, he paid a lot for this house and won't give it up easily, which is why you need to find another home.
i don't want to! i don't! i wont! sarah... novigrad's no place for a godling. but if you want to live here that's your business, so let's make a deal. a deal? what kind? leave the dreamer alone. in exchange, i'll tell the banker the house is haunted for good - no way to lift the curse. you'd tell him that? what if he doesn't believe you? i'm a witcher - he'll believe me. yes...yes...yes! do that and i'll promise not to bother your friend, not even a little. you're awfully nice, you know?
i don't hear that often. thanks. now go wake that sleepyhead. i won't stop her... she'll get up. - who are you?- triss merigold sent me to see you. gods... horrible nightmares... i was supposed to dream the history of this house... instead i saw furniture... hungry furniture that wished to devour me. i know it must sound foolish, but in the dream - well, it was all too real... and not at all amusing. the work of a godling. she made people believe the house was haunted. also injected your dreams with her little jokes. and you managed to wake me? i feel fortunate.
we witchers have our ways. i thank you, very much. the dreams - they were awful. any way i can pay you back? there is, actually. i'm looking for a young woman who was seen in novigrad. corrine: i can certainly try to help. but i'll need to clear my head first. after those deranged dreams i feel it's full of cobwebs. find me at the golden sturgeon, i rent a room there. all right. see you there. i saw miss corrine leave, but she refused to speak to me. is the matter resolved? or quite the opposite? a bit of both. a demon had captured corrine. i managed to free her, but the house is still haunted. did corrine dream of the building's past?
yeah... pretty horrid, apparently, but she refused to talk about it. nobody should inhabit the place. (disheartened) so many crowns i paid! rudolf: ah, well... it shan't put me in the poorhouse. [water sloshing, dockworkers yelling] i dream in here. geralt: never witnessed a seance like this before. let alone participated. corrine: i will guide you. you must first achieve a kind of mental accord. i must ask some questions, you must answer them. it's important you're truthful... answer from your heart. - let's begin- to start with, tell me a memory you have of this woman.
what for? do as i ask please. i need the strongest, most complete memory you have of... ciri... the woman's name is ciri. i accepted a job once... did it... asked to choose my reward i invoked the law of surprise. never thought i'd actually meet the child promised to me at that time. years later, i was in the brokilon forest... happened on a girl there. didn't know who she was. the dryads wanted to keep her, turn her into one of their own.
but the waters of oblivion - they failed in her case. ciri came out of brokilon with me. i sent her to her grandmother then... geralt: ...but already i felt bound to her... by destiny? by something more. thank you. would you be willing to share another memory? yes. no need to rush. we have time. ciri was orphaned during the second war with nilfgaard.
had no idea what to do with a young girl... ...so i did what i would've done with a boy and took her to kaer morhen. figured some physical training, sword work, development of her stamina - couldn't hurt. i remember her standing on a crumbling wall... a stone came loose. she lost her footing. caught her at the last possible instant. strongest memory, though, is of her coming out of her room one day... ...wearing a dress and claiming she was indisposed. knew then that ciri was maturing. it was unavoidable... i was lost in the face of that.
i see. do you wish to tell me anything more? it was after her time training at kaer morhen... after the moment when yennefer first called ciri her daughter. we'd been separated. i knew she was in danger. i dreamt of her multiple times. i found her at stygga castle. she'd gone there to free yen and gotten herself captured in the process. they wanted to hurt her... i remember fighting side by side with ciri on stairs slippery with blood. it was the first time she ever deflected a crossbow bolt with her sword... told her never to try it again.
these memories... they're intense. do you wish to continue? it was in rivia. the second war with nilfgaard had just ended. there was still tension in the air. for gods know what reason, race riots erupted in the town. i tried to do something but... couldn't stop a riled crowd. a boy with a pitchfork... he ran it right through my gut. yennefer lay dying as well... ciri had us carried onto a boat... we sailed to a place where apple trees bloom eternal. she left us there. it was the last time i saw her.
you claim the woman has... abilities. tell me about them. she's a child of the elder blood. a descendent of bloody falka? the rebel burned at the stake? the prophecies claim the world's destroyer will be born of the firebrand's cursed blood. geralt: pure legend. know when a legend transforms into prophecy...? ... when it gains believers. i think you're right to be reticent when talking about the woman. i see. do you wish to say more?
they call ciri the lady of space and time. once i asked yennefer why. she... ...travels between worlds. [wry chuckle] turns out i don't know how to talk about it. didn't really understand much of what yen told me. i just know there's more to it than traveling to different places. and that ciri carries immense power in her blood. i see. i remember ciri having trouble controlling her abilities. yennefer tried to teach her to cast simple spells... ...and ciri destroyed a shed near the temple where they were. really upset her, but it was just an old shed.
i know it took her a while to gain control, and frankly i doubt she controls her abilities fully to this day. - i see. do you wish to say more?- no. can we start? corrine: naturally. i knew you cared about her. but your tone, the emotions you so carefully conceal... let's continue. please. make yourself comfortable. and try to relax. you must take my hand and talk of ciri. tell me where you think she might be, who could be at her side. mhm... if ciri couldn't find me, i'm sure she would've looked for another friend. - who do you mean?- maybe dandelion... they liked each other a lot.
[faint humming grows louder] [swallow chirping] [swallow chirping excitedly] [swallow tweets loudly repeatedly] [loud explosion, interrupted by silence] geralt: [heavy sigh] dreamt of a swallow at first. after that, just nightmares. corrine: at times the dreams can multiply. show the past as well as the future. the swallow... it symbolizes ciri. she contacted dandelion. i didn't know he was in town.
the poet? heard about him. someone left him the rosemary and thyme in their will. the rosemary and thyme? where's that? as you enter the city through the red light district, you come upon a bridge. the rosemary is just past it. - dandelion inherited a brothel?- so i've heard. - thanks for your help.- good luck witcher. i hope you find your ciri. male's voice: (through door, muffled) and never come back, ye stinkin' scadges! male's voice: (through door, muffled) i don't give a flying fuck what you... [muffled yelling, clattering]
aaahh! [thud, groaning] next time i'll rip your fuckin' legs off and shove them up your arse till you've toes for teeth! [door slams] (heartily) geralt! in the nick of time, as always! zoltan, with your boot to someone's ass, as always. - who were those men?- local color. i wasn't gone more than a moment. long enough for them to turn our home into theirs![door creaks] all right! time for some spring cleanin'!
i've got to boot them all out. care to join me? with pleasure. [punches land] geralt: time to end this! [punches land, vagrants groaning] [punches land, grunting and groaning] zoltan: ah, reminds me of our days of yore, eh? geralt: yeah, almost like we never left vergen. i'm pleased. that went well.
now we can greet each other like the gods ordained... (heartily )ages, pal! hey, zoltan. you look good. trainin' plenty lately. what with the war on, no mahakaman mead to be found, but redanian lager's standin' in just fine. you, though - you've withered a bit. somethin' worryin' you? it's about ciri. i know she came to novigrad. might still be here. you mean she's come back? i'll be damned... i wonder if i'd recognize her... how many years is it now... six, seven? but what'd she be doin' here?
hiding, probably. she might be in danger. - see her in your dreams?- couple times. her, and the wild hunt. oh... not good. not at all. but i know she came here and contacted dandelion. [sigh] we've a wee problem, then. where's dandelion? hah! i'd like to know that myself! maybe he could explain what the hell's goin' on! i just barely returned, as you saw. expectin' to come home to a hot leg o' boar and some cold ale. and what do i find instead? a shitestorm!
dandelion gone, the tavern chock full of bums. haven't a clue what happened. mm... let's look around. might find something that'll put us on his trail. prime idea! i say we start on the ground floor - it's where he sat and wrote. zoltan: aha! a note from a grateful muse! geralt: reading someone else's letters? tsk tsk tsk. ...my visage red and hot... i plunged into purest ecstasy, imbibing its nectar... ...your dexterous digits on my soul's yearning chords. hmm... ten barrels of toussaint dry, five cases of sodden triple mead... geralt: hmm... nothing here.
no, no, no, no! that's exactly what we're lookin' for! - it's his planner.- heh! dandelion and planning? good one. besides, anything he wrote here - probably had a special system, chaos only he could ever decipher. actually, in the past, sometimes not even that. zoltan: give him a chance. might not be that bad. seems when he inherited this fine establishment, it came with some fine responsibilities. bookkeeping among them. he also made a habit of noting down the times of his meetings - official and private. zoltan: so, who'd he been seein' of late...? ah, here it is! hmm...
seems he's only been meetin' women of late, the dog. hmm... not a bad idea. dandelion's pretty loose-lipped. might've blabbed something to a lady friend that'll put us on his trail. zoltan: that's what i'm countin' on. hmm... we should divide these somehow. perhaps... ah, fuck it. i'll ask the lasses on my half, you interrogate the ones on yours. suit you? zoltan, wait... this is in verse. and you figure that's unnatural because...? wonderful... meet me back here when you're done. share our findings.
right you are. need to do a wee bit of tidyin' 'fore i go. cannot stomach the idea of comin' back to this mess. and you'd be wise to read your bit 'fore you scurry off. - still here? looking for something? ah, just checkin' to see that everything's in place. buggers mighta hauled somethin' off for pawnin'. actually, glad you're still here. wanted to ask you about someone. "though well she knows the touch of silk and lace, / she shuns not straw when gripped in lust's embrace." molly. keeps things tidy for the baroness la valette. a baroness within reach and he settled for a chambermaid? zoltan: dandelion's not one to judge folk by their station - you know that.
like he says, "in the alcove, we're all equals." yeah, guess a true poet observes life in all its aspects, examines it from all perspectives. if i didn't know him better i'd say he was jealous about this marabella. [chuckle] doubt it. former pupil... [chuckle] well, the tales he told me about her... - doubt i wanna hear them.- probably better off not... things 'tween them took a turn for the strange at some point. - meaning?- she had him wearin' mummer's costumes, took to callin' him "christian", referrin' to herself as "anastasia"... huh... truly perverse. ye dinnae ken the half of it!
called him her stallion, once - 'course the fool took it as a compliment... ...till she pulled a bit and reins outta her cupboard. ho ho! poor bastard fled out the window. - vespula... name rings a bell. she threw his knickers out the window.- that's her. - hollered something about him being a scoundrel with a voice like a consumptive pheasant?- (chuckling) that's her. threw flower pots at him? guess old flames never die... "like a rose abashed of its crimson hue, / fair rosa would sink into humors blue..." "she shunned her lessons in civility / to swing her dwarf with agility." "dwarf"? never suspected he'd be so humble.
hehehehe... dwarf's what rosa var attre named her gwyhyr. well chosen, eh? all right... but var attre? her dad happen to be the nilfgaardian ambassador? yes. you know him? wouldn't say that. had a brief conversation with him at the palace in vizima. well, then you've a good notion of the kind of bloke he is. commissioned dandelion to tutor rosa and her sister in the art of rhetoric, but wee rosa preferred swordplay. (in mocking tone) how dare she reject the great bard in favor of a common swordmaster? more than one, it seems. week on week we get fresh gossip 'bout her thrashin' another instructor. so bad he resigns.
word has it her da's now looking to hire her next victim-- (chuckling) i mean, instructor. "a figure most rare, her nature dual. / look deep in her eyes or be made a fool." well, well... seems fascinated with this one. eh, not without reason. never been much for elven women myself, but this one's exceptional. dare say francesca findabair'd be jealous. - you wanna take this one, then?- nah, you can have her. why? you see, er... elven beauty's like a young beauclair wine... ...whereas i prefer vodka straight up.
[sigh] well, know about all i wanted to know. thanks for your help. i will give you every last copper - with interest! gimme a week, please! whoreson's no banker. he's an honest man - you pay on time, you get protection. you don't pay... help! what you hollerin' for, stupid wench? what you hopin' for, a knight in shinin' armor? close enough. keep outta this, grayhead. not your concern. vespula's got someone else's protection now. really? whose'd that be?
the king of beggars... made a deal with junior. this is his turf now. - didn't hear nothin' about that.- but you *have* heard what bedlam does to people who cross him... ...or you need a demonstration? c'mon, fritz... boss wants it that way, it's how it's gotta be. thank you... oh, thank you! to think there're men who'll help a stranger outta the kindness of their hearts! not entirely out of kindness, and you're not entirely a stranger... what're you... oh, i know you... you're that witcher took dandelion out whorin'.
jerald, right? not "jerald"... geralt. oh... dreadful sorry. explain something if you don't mind... ... you said i took dandelion out whoring? so he said. claimed i was his one and only. but he fell in with the wrong folk - you and that dwarf who always looks like a cow licked him. said you two were a bad example - wine, women... ... song. he pick that habit up from us, too? gotta have a word with him.
what do you think? where could dandelion be? probably out whorin', that hoarse pheasant, that lyin' scoundrel! ouch. what did he do to get *your* goat? same thing as ever! prize bullshitter came back, sayin' it was till death do we part this time. and? no more than a week passed before i spotted him in harborside, strollin' with some trollop on his arm! 'twas the last straw. all those questions 'bout the washerwomen at the bathhouse, then this. i beat him black and blue and threw him out on his ear! dandelion ask you about other washerwomen? not terribly subtle, even for him. maybe he likes 'em sudsy.
(uncomfortably) eh... maybe. but what did he ask about, exactly? oh, this and that, really. what's it like at the bathhouse, have i got any friends there, what're their workin' hours... i dunno, maybe he's lookin' to hire one for his tavern. maybe i got all in a huff for no reason. this woman he was with in the harbor - who was she? claimed she was his niece from kovir. hah! whore-vir, more likely! corset so tight her eyes were poppin' out her head. his too, come to think of it. an artist or a whore - doesn't much matter as they're one and the same. thanks for your help.
listen, when i find dandelion, anything i should tell him? no! i mean... tell him he's a two-faced snake, but... it would be nice if he dropped by. welcome, welcome! do come in. i'm a friend of dandelion's. looking for elihal. you've come to the right spot. how might i be of service? need something shortened? patch your trousers, darn your socks? - you elihal?- yes... now pick your jaw up off the floor.
sorry, i thought... ... thought elihal was one of dandelion's girlfriends. ah, so it's that. wait here. any better? so you're... elihal. did you and dandelion... i mean... how did you two meet? i met him one night in a tavern. he was blind drunk. what happened?
what do you think? we spoke. - that's it?- i'm not sure what you're getting at, but i'll make one thing clear... men don't interest me. told him that as well. luckily dandelion's an open-minded fellow. we had a lovely evening. he became a loyal customer afterwards. dandelion visit your shop often? i tried many times to talk him into a decent doublet. sadly he'd only come in to get a button re-affixed or a hole patched. - when'd you last see him?- some time ago... he brought in one of zoltan's jerkins, insisted i sew on an extra pocket.
odd as requests go. i had the distinct feeling he'd actually come to talk. what did you and dandelion talk about? he ask about anything in particular? hmm, let me think... had an ordinary chat, really. although... indeed, he did keep asking about kalkstein. if dandelion and i hadn't laid our cards on the table at the start, i might have suspected he had a history with the alchemist. he spoke like a lovesick beau. in fact... he desperately wished to meet with him. kalkstein's in novigrad? wouldn't mind seeing him myself. you're too late, i fear... the witch hunters nabbed him recently, burned him at the stake in hierarch square...
... but as he perished - ooh, the goings on! impressive. fiery beasts circled his pyre, then rose into the sky and exploded to form letters. really? what did they spell? "radovid sucks flaccid cock." thanks for your help. and, uh... nice to meet you. i can help with much more. if you need new trousers or a vest, you know where to find me. excuse me, i'm looking for marabella. i am she. wait outside, class is in session. - i'll wait- it won't take long.
marabella: it turns out he'll not come after all. boy: why not?marabella: a rat bit him, and he's got a fever. girl 1: where'd he get bit?boy: it hurt him much?girl 2: will he die? boy: you don't die from rats, stupid. girl 2: yes you do! just the other day i saw a witch hunter tell a man, "you rat!" and then he killed him. boy: liar!marabella: that's enough. marabella: we're done for the day. gather your things and go home. boy: wonder if the ratcatcher'll get well. girl: like as not.boy: how do you know?
girl: mum says that... (fades)geralt: now can we talk? yes. what do you want? i know you saw dandelion recently. oh yes. longest afternoon of my life. - he read you his poems?- no... we perused the "illustrated guide to fungi". hmm, maybe... nope... won't even try to guess why he wanted to do that. mold - that was his interest. when his hand abandoned my knee to point at a figure of penicillium, i knew the fire between us had died... permanently.
found a poem dandelion wrote about you... ... portrayed you as an unusually talented individual. really...? did he mention *my* poetry? horses have always fascinated me. i've always longed to extoll their noble beauty. did you see any of my work and dandelion's? mere exercises, true, but i'd be curious to know what you thought of them. (hesitantly) ah... no... no. didn't see any. (dramatically) "gee-up! her snakely whip rose skyward. gee-haw! crack! she reined the beast in!" "the stallion danced betwixt her thighs! lather bathed its chinny-chin-chin." sorry. don't know much about poetry.
see dandelion after the... fungus incident? no. i even considered granting him another chance. his heart of hearts is pure gold... he simply needs a bit more discipline in his life. but he never came back to see me. so i thought if it's done, it's done. thanks for your help. farewell. what you want? rosa var attre's expecting me. supposed to give her lessons in swordplay. come with me. miss rosa awaits. guard: i hope you realize what you've got yourself into.geralt: hope so, too.
guard: miss rosa's got a downright beastly temper. shows no mercy once she grips a sword. guard: grab a wooden one. and take care not to hurt the little miss, or you'll earn the ambassador's ire. guard: follow me. you're my new instructor...? rosa: well, well, papa clearly went out of his way this time. wood to start with. i must know your worth. [both grunting, groaning] rosa: stop flaunting and fight! geralt: c'mon, come closer.
rosa: damn it! rosa: well fought! you're much better than the last one. i'm not actually your swordplay instructor. really?! then who are you? and how on earth did you get in? guards aren't up to muster - let me right in. just had to tell them i was here to teach you swordplay. i told father they're a band of imbeciles! but if you're not the instructor then who exactly are you? have you come to rob? kill? speak! neither, so what do you say we stay calm.
before i ask, gotta admit - you do pretty well with a sword. one pointer: don't expose your left flank when you dodge. oh, i know... terrible habit. can't seem to get rid of it. i'd hoped to find someone in novigrad who could help me to do so. but... don't you dare try to dazzle me with advice... already admitted you're not here to give me lessons. came to ask about your rhetoric tutor, dandelion. rhetoric tutor? good one. that is why papa hired him, but not at all what the bard had in mind.
he mostly played his lute and sang for us... i believe he thought he was wooing. mean he wasn't? but you had some sort of... relationship. if you call him chasing after me a relationship. even so, there was nothing between us. (softly) seems my sister's had a bit of fun at our expense... (normal voice) but enough chatter! stand and fight - i demand a rematch! rosa: why bother with two swords when you can barely handle one? rosa: granted, you're quick!
well, if you're not an instructor you should certainly be one. fancy giving me a few private lessons? sorry, gotta say no. schedule's packed right now. as you wish. woman: (offscreen) what are you two lovebirds whispering about? rosa: you asked about my relationship with dandelion...? well here's the mix-up's mastermind: edna var attre, the greatest mischief-maker north or south of the yaruga. wait a minute. mean to say dandelion mixed you two up? on occasion, yes. but then rosa would quickly set him straight.
if you'd shut your catty mouth for a moment, dear little sister, i could explain. edna sent dandelion some love letters. she signed my name. conceited as he is, naturally he fell for it. rosa: i was left to repel the aging bard's advances. rosa, i had the best of intentions, you know that! i felt you needed help taking the first step. you blushed every time he sang a ballad. he'll next sing at your funeral if you don't stop it right now! calm down, ladies. no poet's worth two sisters nipping at each other's throats. especially not this one.
listen, i just wanna know one thing - either of you seen dandelion lately? edna might have. i certainly have not. my dear sister, i would never spend time alone with a man for whom you burn with a secret passion. burn with passion? for one who incessantly praises another woman's talents? afraid i've more sense than that! dandelion act any different lately? notice anything strange? strange...? not really. it's no use, geralt. she's so enamored she'd hardly notice if he turned into a werewolf. - edna!- what? you needn't pretend he followed convention. remember when he took us to the cemetery?
rhetoric lessons in a cemetery? unusual even for dandelion. we set out to visit the graves of celebrated oxenfurt professors. he ended up quizzing us about margrave henckel. - who?- eccentric old coot. died recently. he'd apparently been an important and generous patron of the arts as a young man. who'd dandelion sing about? know anything about her? i believe she's a poetess or a trobairitz. very skilled and exceptionally talented, of course. but who knows? the bard might've invented her just to make us jealous. pitiful chorister. i'd say it worked. you've gone all red in the face just talking about it.
*your* face'll be red when i scratch your eyes out! been a pleasure. but i've got stuff to take care of. exceedingly nice to meet you. please come again. well? can i expect any more lessons in the future? sorry, rosa. afraid i can't at the moment. farewell, then. oh... payment for your time. this baroness la valette's villa? shouldn't interest you. baroness don't mingle with just anyone.
don't worry. i'm here to see her chambermaid, molly. outta the way. baroness is riding out. begone! geralt of rivia at my doorstep? surely this is no chance encounter. greetings, baroness. greetings, general. you're right. i'm here for a reason. there's no mistaking you. but, for etiquette's sake, mary louisa la valette. an imperial general and a witcher meet... and know each other. surprising. - we've met before.- and how! imagine this, louisa: the emperor desired a chat with the witcher. i, too, was fortunate enough to meet him then.
baroness: hm... so geralt of rivia now works for emperor emhyr. interesting... has var emreis sent you to rid novigrad of monsters? looking for a girl named molly. heard she works here. my maid-servant. i'm afraid she's currently at the home of my dear friend patricia vegelbud. morvran: perhaps geralt could accompany us. he could speak with molly at the races. is that something you'd consider, witcher? care to partake of some sophisticated diversion? - well, if molly will be there...- on our way, then. morvran: we've arrived...
my father owned a similar estate in brugge. as a young girl, i'd travel there often to ride. shall we look at the horses? do you like horses, geralt? i guess so. called every horse i've had "roach". the gray mare is cantarella. sired by cahir, the champion from vole. geralt: gray's a nice color... for horses, too. my coin's on the black stallion - nemrod. purest nilfgaardian stock. geralt: surprised he didn't salute you, general. know anything about the chestnut or the bay?
the chestnut is thunderbolt, a pureblood redanian. gallant steed, but too headstrong for my taste, and difficult to control. [neigh] morvran: and the bay hails from zerrikania. lord de volte acquired him recently. morvran: i know little about him, though zerrikanians are reputed to have incredible stamina. seem to know your horses. "know" is not the word. morvran's a true expert. i find them to be far more honest than men. must say, i'm curious how you manage in the saddle, witcher. mostly just try to stay in it.
what would you say to a little race? not what i came here for. don't make me beg, witcher. tell you what - win, and i shall give you my finest saddle. morvran: made in nilfgaard proper of beautiflly tanned leather. why not. wouldn't wind seeing if your knowledge of horses translates into riding skills. well said. so... which steed do you choose, witcher? heard tales of zerrikanian horses... i'll ride the bay. i'll not ride with you, but i shall bet on a steed...
nemrod will win, no matter the rider. cantarella for me, then. i see no point in delaying this. let's begin. announcer: riders, ready! morvran: c'mon, witcher! let's see what you're made of! morvran: don't spare the horse! [bell rings] - what a thrill! a beautiful victory!- thanks. for one for whom every horse is a roach, you carry yourself exquisitely in the saddle. my congratulations. that is yours.
now, could i talk to your chambermaid, m'lady? ah, yes, molly. that is why you came here, after all. the portly young woman - that's her. morvran: speak to her. and you must find us when you're ready to return to novigrad. we'd be delighted to join you for the journey. - i'm molly, m'lord. wished to see me?- call me geralt. geralt? *that* geralt? the one dandelion's rescued time and time again? mhm. wouldn't be here if not for dandelion. told me all about your adventures...
... how he'd ready you for battle with his songs, how he tamed the kayran by playin' his lute. i meant that literally - dandelion's why i'm here. came to ask you about him. know where he might be? no. sadly, i haven't got a clue. we've not seen each other in ages. the baroness don't approve of our acquaintance. says dandelion's a good-for-nothin' layabout - can you imagine?! but... [giggle] well maybe his sister could help you? such a nice girl... you *do* realize dandelion doesn't have a sister... sure he does! saw her meself. funny, she don't look like him at all... blonde, for starters.
maybe they've different fathers...? mhm... different mothers, too. maybe... but you could see he cares for her, looks after her... ...the way he carried her packages, and-- these packages - any chance they were trunks, travel cases? and this girl - possibly a trobairitz? yes, yes! now i remember - she's a travelin' performer... ... sailed in from kovir. talented family, innit? (dryly) exceptionally. and very loving, too, i'm sure.
molly: if you only knew! dandelion even wrote a poem for her. "to my dearest callonetta," or some such. oh, to have a brother like that! any chance you remember your last conversation with dandelion? 'course! he came to borrow some coin for a barge. (surprised) what? why'd he need a barge? (wistfully) to take me on a romantic cruise, of the canals, by the light of the moon! said there'd be strawberries and that wine with the bubbles, and he'd sing me arias... but... i've not seen him since.
- thanks, molly.- w-wait! before you go, i've got a request... dandelion told me once he'd show me his etchings, but he never did. and i'd so like to see 'em... won't be too hard to convince him. he loves showing off those etchings... to anyone he can. oh, that's wonderful! thanks! and good luck to you on your search! ah, geralt, there you are! shall we return together? gladly. it's a long way to novigrad. road oughta seem shorter with some company.
i'd say the same. well then, let's go. zoltan: how're you keepin', poppy? miss your zoltan, you old bird? poppy: [hoots]zoltan: what's this? haven't even drunk our water? naughty bird! zoltan: now repeat: savorrrry crrrrrackerrrrs. [hearty laugh] ah, you're back! you met poppy? she ought to start talkin' any day now.poppy: [hoots] zoltan... venture to say a mage would have trouble turning that owl into a parrot... zoltan: sure you know me that well? mark my words, she'll be playin' gwent with us in no time. but, we were to talk about dandelion.
so, how'd you do? learn much? tell me what you've got first. a few bruises and a torn doublet... otherwise, not much of note. he wasn't stayin' with any of 'em, they'd not seen hide nor hair of him in ages. all i learned was a few of dandelion's pick-up lines - of dubious worth. let's hear 'em - i'm all ears. [groan] you know how he wooed a lass studyin' natural history? asked her about the habits of trolls... [wry chuckle] you know where he went with a cook from the passiflora?
the oxenfurt-novigrad road, which is just now bein' repaired. made her stay for hours as laborers crushed boulders into cobblestones... tried to pass it off as a romantic outing. i don't know about human women, but that would bore a dwarven lass to tears. he's growin' old, that poet of ours... maybe... or maybe he did all that for a reason. sounds like you found somethin' out. women on my list hadn't seen dandelion for a while. all claimed he'd been acting strange. also mentioned he'd been seeing someone else.
thing is, mystery woman wasn't on my list. what's she supposedly like, this lass? blonde, from kovir. a trobairitz, apparently. named callonetta or something like that. ah, that makes it clear as crystal! it's priscilla. aye... must be her. who's this priscilla? a trobairitz, like you said. quite popular of late. picture dandelion with a pair o' tits and you've got the general idea. interesting image... so how'd dandelion handle meeting his female double?
i think he fell in love. what can i say? could be he finally met his match. she's his match, all right... maybe more. laddie's head's on fire. lassie's got him whirlin'. all right. guess we gotta talk to her. priscilla works with a mummers' troupe - "renarde and the foxen". whenever they're in town, she performs nightly at the kingfisher. mean we've been sentenced to an evening of poetry? must ye always? this'll be true poetry, geralt. you'll see.
[hoot] [light chattering] ah, here already! c'mon, let's find some arse rests. should start soon. [conversation dies down] [plucks note, softly] [whispering, murmuring] [plucks three notes, softly] ♪ [begins playing wistful tune]
♫ ♪ these scars long have yearned for your tender caress. ♪ ♪ to bind our fortunes, damn what the stars own ♪ ♪ rend my heart open, then your love profess ♪ ♪ a winding, weaving fate to which we both atone ♪ ♪ you flee my dream come the morning ♪ ♪ your scent - berries tart, lilac sweet ♪ ♪ to dream of raven locks entwisted, stormy ♪ ♪ of violet eyes, glistening as you weep ♪
♪ the wolf i will follow into the storm ♪ ♪ to find your heart, its passion displaced ♪ ♪ by ire ever growing, hardening into stone ♪ ♪ amidst the cold to hold you in a heated embrace ♪ ♪ i know not if fate would have us live as one ♪ ♪ or if by love's blind chance we've been bound ♪ ♪ the wish i whispered, when it all began ♪ ♪ did it forge a love you might never have found? ♪ ♪ [ends]
[silence] [clapping] [clapping, cheering] [claps loudly] [clapping, cheering continues] [clapping, cheering dies down] i know him! 'twas him murdered some temerian boys back at white orchard! silence, woman! we've come to hear music.
(startled) a murderer? there's a war on. some die. (annoyed) oh, please. argue this out elsewhere. squabbles and rows again! and i was told this was a decent establishment! if i know geralt, he risked his noggin to save someone else's arse. "save," you say? he murdered folk! geralt: don't let 'em provoke you. there's the door - settle this outside! come!
woman: i wish to listen to music. music! culture capital of the world? the fuck it is! permit me to introduce... err... zoltan: this here's priscilla, known also as callonetta. zoltan: as lovely as she is talented. and this-- priscilla: ... is geralt of rivia, i know. dandelion's told me a great deal about you, and i've listened with bated breath. don't be surprised. after all, doubt i could think of a more fitting subject for a ballad than a witcher's love for a sorceress... or should i say... sorceresses? seems dandelion was meticulous in telling my story...
...down to personal and insignificant details. did he offer anything about himself? like where he was going? [boisterous laugh] splendid! very funny, truly! so, see you later. (hushed) not here. come with me. there a reason for all this sneaking around? an excellent one - when last i saw dandelion, he told me he was planning a heist - sigi reuven's vault. ... sheep dip... ... and i've not seen him since.
reuven - what's he like? tall, fat, dangerous as hell. limp in his gait - left leg. sounds like a lame rock troll. if trolls were devilishly intelligent and had a flair for crime... yeah, i'd agree. dandelion breaking into a vault... i'd sooner expect him to choose a life of celibacy. true... forgot to pay for his wine at the passiflora once. he laid awake the next three nights worryin' about it.
any idea what got into him? he have debts he needed to pay off? claimed he was helping someone. urgent matter that couldn't wait, he said. this "someone" - dandelion mention their name? no... but if i know dandelion, it's *her* name he forgot to mention... ... as he failed to mention her slender waist and ample bosom. let me guess... attempted heist was a failure. well he's not driven up in a gilded carriage laden with jewels, so i should think so. i've asked after him everywhere, but it seems an army of tongue-stealing cats as overrun the city. i learned only that he raised a ruckus at whoreson junior's lair. then whoreson's men chased him all over town.
"whoreson junior"... doesn't ring a bell. biggest prick in novigrad... not literally, but-- got it. you're not a fan. but what did he do to you? try the whole town. he's one of four bosses who control the city's underworld... ...the others being sigi reuven, carlo "the cleaver" varese and the king of beggars. the rascal... at least he didn't cross the church as well, bring that venerable institution into it. we'd be in deep, then. here i go again, rushing to dandelion's rescue...
he oughta pay me a salary. wherever he is, i sincerely doubt he's in the mood for jokes. nor am i, in fact. relax, i'll get him out of this. gotta talk to this whoreson first - and sigi reuven. know where i might find them? i don't know about whoreson but reuven runs a bathhouse. careful, though... he's a dangerous character. ♪ [the wolven storm] ♪ [song ends]
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