This is the city (of Vizima), this is the White Wolf -- THE WITCHER [SSLP]

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MadDogMike: Apr 9, 2008; Cute but fanged

Synthbuttrange posted:

The Wild Hunt turning up in a basement with so little fanfare for a huge infodrop is definitely a "Wait, did I miss something here?" moment.

Worse, it's optional I think because I swear I never saw a single one of the Wild Hunt scenes in this game which left me very confused later (didn't help I haven't read all the books yet).

# ? Dec 20, 2017 01:07

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# ? Apr 24, 2024 16:12

Glazius: Jul 22, 2007; Hail all those who are able,
any mouse can,
any mouse will,
but the Guard prevail.; Clapping Larry

Well, I mean. Geralt is arguably a murderer, but I suppose Vizima doesn't actually give two shits about that.

# ? Dec 23, 2017 06:49

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

Let's Read Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher

Book 1: The Last Wish

Story 3 - The Lesser Evil

Voice of Reason Part 3 posted:

Falwick and Tallies, knights of the order of the White Rose (which I think is the same thing as the order of the Flaming Rose?), arrive to evict Geralt from the temple, on behalf of Prince Hereward. "Duke Hereward", Nenneke corrects them, as Hereward isn't of royal blood. He has no power here. The temple is sovereign grounds, and they wouldn't dare harm a priestess.

The whiny and borderline hysterical Tallies challenges Geralt to a duel.

Geralt appeals to the older Falwick, only to be struck by the waves of hatred emanating from him and realize that it's the White Rose rather than Hereward who want "the Butcher of Blaviken" gone. Nenneke and Geralt more or less unilaterally declare that Geralt ~~only has three more stories left to reminisce about~~ will leave the temple once three days have passed.

This story is mostly setting up plot beats that will pay off later.

I guess you could read a bit into Geralt feeling Falwick's emotions and claim that the witcher empathy / telepathy powers did not disappear entirely after the first story, but scene reads more as regular deduction than anything related to witcher skills.

When talking about Duke/Prince Hereward, the Russian translation actually uses the Latin-ish "duke" in the first instance and the exact Russian equivalent in the second. Confusing. Same thing applies to the following story, using "Duchess" for "Princess", which is definitely a mistake.

We start to establish witchers as outright outcasts, rather than mere mercenaries. A theme that will be developed further in the following story:

The Lesser Evil posted:

Geralt rides into Blaviken with a monster carcass in-tow. He brings it to Caldemeyne, the alderman, just in case there's a reward. Clademeyne is a decent and friendly fellow, as far as Witcher officials go. While no one knew there was a kikimore to offer a reward for (people disappearing into the swamps is not that rare an occurrence), maybe "Master Irion" will have a use for its corpse. Irion has recently reconstructed a nearby tower, apparently wishing to make the town his permanent residence. He's helpful, but not very outgoing.

Irioh has no use for the offal, but would dearly love to have a word with Geralt inside his tower of illusions.

quote:
He entered the orchard, walking through the trees. He noticed a movement to his left and looked round. A fair-haired girl, entirely naked, was walking along a row of shrubs carrying a basket full of apples. The witcher solemnly promised himself that nothing would surprise him anymore.

'At last. Greetings, witcher.'

'Stregobor!' - Geralt was surprised.

During his life, the witcher had met thieves who looked like town councillors, councillors who looked like beggars, harlots who looked like princesses, princesses who looked like calving cows and kings who acted like bandits. But Stregobor always looked as, according to every rule and notion, a wizard should look. He was tall, thin and stooping, with enormous bushy grey eyebrows and a long, crooked nose. To top it off, he wore a black, trailing robe with improbably wide sleeves, and wielded a long staff capped with a crystal knob. None of the wizards Geralt knew looked like Stregobor. Most surprising of all was that Stregobor was, indeed, a wizard.

~~Irioh~~ Stregobor needs Geralt's help. Sure, the last time they've met, Stregobor helped kicked Geralt out of Kovir (a wealthy and civilized kingdom, by Nordling standards), referring to witchers as scavengers and murder machines annihilating endangered species, but let bygones be bygones. Stregobor is currently being hunted by the most dangerous ~~of the species~~ monster of all - a Princess.

A bit of backstory: Born on the day of the Black Sun, noble girls and princesses are supposed to be the harbingers of Lilit's return, prophesied to rule mankind and spill rivers of blood. Internally mutated into outright inhuman creatures, with heightened aggression, they had to be contained.

Geralt, conversely, believes that Mad Eltibald's prophecy was just an attempt by the mages to tighten their grip upon their royal puppets. Plenty of kings born on a clear spring morning drown their kingdoms in blood, and no one finds it necessary to "contain" them.

Besides, even if some of the princesses born during the eclipse were mutated, the wizard's hunts and vivisections occasionally targeted perfectly healthy girls. Which is why locking suspect maidens in a tower became the norm - only for a bunch of knights errant to start rescuing them. Per Stregobor, every rescued princess turned into a homicidal maniac, while those who remained imprisoned died after descending into a clairvoyant trance.

One of these princesses, Renfri of Creyden, is now hunting Stregobor - he examined her at the behest of her step-mother, who was warned by a magic mirror, and determined the girl to be a mutant. So her step-mother sent her into the forest with the royal huntsman, who didn't have a chance to return with any kind of heart, found in the forest with his pants around his ankles and a brooch pin stuck through his ear-canal.

Renfri dodged hired assassins for years. She became the leader of a band of seven dwarves, an expert fencer, and a fan of executing her victims by impalement - hence her nickname, Shirke. Eventually, she met Stregobor by chance, and he managed to encase her in crystal before she could gut him. Unfortunately, some idiot prince found her, fell in love, managed to find a counterspell, and brought her home to his backwater kingdom, which Shrike quickly took over.

Her dwarves killed each other in some homicidal dispute, and her entire family in Creyden had met a series of accidents, so now she's no longer an outlaw being hunted by a royal mage - she's a noblewoman in good standing hunting down a rogue sorcerer. Even worse - her mutations rendered her immune to sorcery. Geralt is his last and only hope. The local guards are no match for Shirke and her band, so Stregobor can either remain in his impregnable tower until the end of times, or get someone to slay the monster.

quote:
'Geralt,' said Stregobor, 'when we were listening to Eltibald, many of us had doubts. But we decided to accept the lesser evil. Now I ask you to make a similar choice.'

'Evil is evil, Stregobor,' said the witcher seriously as he got up. 'Lesser, greater, middling, it's all the same. Proportions are negotiated, boundaries blurred. I'm not a pious hermit, I haven't done only good in my life. But if I'm to choose between one evil and another, then I prefer not to choose at all. Time for me to go.'

However, Geralt does end up meeting Shirke's band at the Golden Court tavern. Though Geralt doesn't respond to their insults, they're about to draw him into a fight regardless when Renfri herself shows up, and shuts the whole bunch of assholes with a few words. They'd hate to disturb the town's peace before the tomorrow's big fair, wouldn't they?

She shows Geralt and Claymden a parchment proclaiming her band to be in the service of king Audoen. So the alderman doesn't get to kick her out of town or imprison her until and unless she actually starts murdering people.

Someone is waiting in Geralt's room that night.

quote:
The room was dark. But not for a witcher.

He was deliberately slow in crossing the threshold; he closed the door behind him carefully. The next second he dived at the person sitting on his bed, crushed them into the linen, forced his forearm under their chin and reached for his dagger. He didn't pull it out. Something wasn't right.

'Not a bad start,' she said in a muffled voice, lying motionless beneath him. 'I expected something like this, but I didn't think we'd both be in bed so quickly. Take your hand from my throat please.'

'It's you.'

'It's me. Now there are two possibilities. The first: you get off me and we talk. The second: we stay in this position, in which case I'd like to take my boots off at least.'
Renfri is here to convince Geralt that killing Stregobor would be the "lesser evil". He has it coming, and doing so will avoid unnecessary bystander deaths. Or witcher deaths. The local guard have neither the skills nor the courage to take on her band, and one man can't handle all seven, no matter how good he is.

She's been hounded, beaten, raped and generally had a bit of a bad time just because her step-mother preferred to have her children inherit the throne. In her version, she didn't leave nearly so many bodies behind, and most of the accidents that befell her family were in fact accidents. But more to the point, she's just a touch miffed, and won't be convinced to back to down. She doesn't know if she is in fact just a monster, and won't take the chance to demonstrate that she's not. Walking away is just not in her nature. If Stregobor won't leave his tower, she'll present him with the Tridam ultimatum.

quote:
'Geralt,' she said, 'did Stregobor ask you to kill me?'

Yes. He believed it was the lesser evil.'

'Can I believe you refused him, as you have me?'

You can.'

'Why?'

'Because I don't believe in a lesser evil.'

Renfri smiled faintly, an ugly grimace in the yellow candlelight.

'You don't believe in it, you say. Well you're right, in a way. Only Evil and Greater Evil exist and beyond them, in the shadows, lurks True Evil. True Evil, Geralt, is something you can barely imagine, even if you believe nothing can still surprise you. And sometimes True Evil seizes you by the throat and demands that you choose between it and another, slightly lesser, Evil.'

...

Renfri's eyes glistened in the candlelight, reflecting the flame, the pearls glowed in the slit of her jacket, the wolf medallion spinning round on its chain sparkled.

'I pity you,' she said slowly, gazing at the medallion. 'You claim a lesser evil doesn't exist. You're standing on a flagstone running with blood, all alone in the world, because you can't choose, but you had to. And you'll never know, you'll never be sure, if you were right . . . And your reward will be a a hail of stones and curses. I pity you . . .'

...

She tossed her head as if waking up, and blinked several times, surprised. For a very brief moment she looked frightened.

'You've won,' she said sharply. 'You win, witcher. Tomorrow morning I'll leave Blaviken and never return to this rotten town. Never. Now pass me the wine-skin.'

Her usual derisive smile returned as she put her empty tumbler back on the table. 'Geralt?'

'I'm here.'

'That bloody roof is steep. I'd prefer to leave at dawn than fall and hurt myself in the dark. I'm a princess and my body's delicate. I can feel a pea under a mattress - as long as it's not well- stuffed with straw, obviously. How about it?'

'Renfri,' Geralt smiled despite himself, 'is that really befitting of a princess?'

'What do you know about princesses, dammit? I've lived as one and the joy of it is being able to do what you like. Do I have to tell you straight out what I want?'
Come morning, Claymden is very happy to hear Shirke's band is going to leave peacefully. He probably wouldn't dare stand against them no matter what they did. A bunch of nasty characters - the half-elf, Civril, had something to do with the massacre at Tridam.

quote:
'Tridam. Didn't you hear of it? Everyone was talking about it three . . . Yes, three years ago. The Baron of Tridam was holding some brigands in the dungeons. Their comrades - one of whom was that half-blood Civril - seized a river ferry full of pilgrims during the Feast of Nis. They demanded the baron set those others free. The baron refused, so they began murdering pilgrims, one after another. By the time the baron released his prisoners they'd thrown a dozen pilgrims overboard to drift with the current - and following the deaths the baron was in danger of exile, or even of execution. Some blamed him for waiting so long to give in, and others claimed he'd committed a great evil in releasing the men, in setting a pre- precedent or something. The gang should have been shot from the banks, together with the hostages, or attacked on the boats; he shouldn't have given an inch. At the tribunal the baron argued he'd had no choice, he'd chosen the lesser evil to save more than twenty-five people - women and children - on the ferry.'

That's the Tridam ultimatum. Once the fair is full of people, the gang will have so many hostages that any attempt to attack them will end with innocent deaths. The path of lesser evil is to take them out now, even if they haven't actually done anything yet. Geralt rushes to the marketplace, over the alderman's objections.

The gang is waiting for him. Renfri is at the tower, giving the ultimatum. She left two messages for Geralt.

quote:
'"I am what I am. Choose. Either me, or the lesser." You're supposed to know what it means.'

The witcher nodded, raised his hand above his right shoulder, and drew his sword. The blade traced a glistening arc above his head. Walking slowly, he made his way towards the group.

Civril laughed nastily, ominously.

'Renfri said this would happen, witcher, and left us something special to give you. Right between the eyes.'

The witcher kept walking, and the half-elf raised the crossbow to his cheek. It grew very quiet.

The bowstring hummed, the witcher's sword flashed and the bolt flew upwards with a metallic whine, spinning in the air until it clattered against the roof and rumbled into the gutter.

'He deflected it . . .' groaned Fifteen. 'Deflected it in flight-'

'As one,' ordered Civril. Blades hissed as they were drawn from sheathes, the group pressed shoulder to shoulder, bristling with blades.

The witcher came on faster; his fluid walk became a run - not straight at the group quivering with swords, but circling it in a tightening spiral.

Geralt moves between the stalls, disappearing from sight, separating the group and cutting them down, one or two at a time. The leaders, Civril and Nohorn, are the only ones who manage to stay together and attack in concert. It's not enough.

Renfri enters the market square just as Geralt ends them. He's made his choice, as has Stregobor - he won't leave his tower even if Renfri's band butchers the population of a dozen small towns and piles their heads at his doorstep. The whole thing was for naught. But Renfri is not in the habit of walking away.

She attacks him. Renfri is an exceptional swordfighter, but more to the point, most of Geralt's moves are meant to be automatic and reflexive. Trying to stop himself from dealing a killing blow, trying to disarm a dangerous opponent, goes against everything he was taught. He hesitates and gets cut. His training takes over.

As Renfri falls, she begs him to hold her. He stands back; as she bleeds out, she drops the dagger she was hiding.

Stregobor was watching the fight, and comes to the markeplace to arrange an autopsy.

quote:
Someone the witcher didn't know found the hilt of his sword and drew it. 'Touch a single hair on her head,' said the person the witcher didn't know, 'touch her head and yours will go flying to the flagstones.'

'Have you gone mad? You're wounded, in shock! An autopsy's the only way we can confirm-'

'Don't touch her!'

Stregobor, seeing the raised blade, jumped aside and waved his staff. 'All right!' he shouted. 'As you wish! But you'll never know! You'll never be sure! Never, do you hear, witcher?'

'Be gone.'

'As you wish.' The wizard turned away, his staff hitting the flagstones. 'I'm returning to Kovir. I'm not staying in this hole another day. Come with me rather than rot here. These people don't know anything, they've only seen you killing. And the way you kill is ugly, Geralt. Well, are you coming?'

Geralt didn't reply; he wasn't looking at him. He put his sword away. Stregobor shrugged and walked away, his staff tapping rhythmically against the ground.

A stone came flying from the crowd and clattered against the flagstones. A second followed, whizzing past Geralt's shoulder. The witcher, holding himself straight, raised both hands and made a swift gesture with them. The crowd heaved; the stones came flying more thickly but the Sign, protecting him behind an invisible oval shield, pushed them aside.

'Enough!' yelled Caldemeyn. 'Bloody hell, enough of that!'

The crowd roared like a tidal wave, but the stones stopped flying. The witcher stood, motionless.

The alderman approached him.

'Is this,' he said, with a broad gesture indicating the motionless bodies strewn across the square, 'how your lesser evil looks? Is this what you believed necessary?'

'Yes,' replied Geralt slowly, with an effort.

'Is your wound serious?'

'No.'

'In that case, get out of here.'

'Yes,' said the witcher. He stood a moment longer, avoiding the alderman's eyes. Then he turned away slowly, very slowly.

'Geralt.'

The witcher looked round.

'Don't come back,' said Caldemeyn. 'Never come back.'

The subject of choosing the lesser evil - of choosing appropriate action in an imperfect world - is a constant theme in the Witcher narrative. Geralt is the prototypical ronin, a drifter whose skills with the blade often force him to become involved in conflicts where the right side is unclear, if it even exists. His "witcher code", as hinted throughout the short story collection, is just an attempt to appeal to a made-up impartial authority to stop himself from getting involved. Interestingly, his character evolution throughout the saga does solve some of his ethical concerns re:acting to change the world, but not by evolving some sort of complex moral code.

A kikimore in proper Slavic mythology is a hag of some sort, not an insectoid. It's definitely NOT a social monster in the story, and Geralt isn't worried about a hive nearby.

Stregebor and Renfri both present the same argument - a Kikimore kills because it's a mindless hungry monster. The other side, the human or supposed mutant, is the true monster, having the capacity to choose to do evil. A less complex stories would have their motivations mirror each other's entirely, but that's not the case here. We'll never be sure how much Stregebor is motivated by greed and ambition, and how much by genuine concern for possible consequences. Conversely, while we'll never know just how bloodthirsty and murderous Renfri really is, there's no question that her motivations are self-preservation and revenge.

Translation differences - depending what language you're reading the book in, you'll be unsure whether Renfri's prophecy meant to be supposition, true clairvoyance about the future, or a present-tense vision - hence "you're standing" in the English translation.

While the fight against the striga in the witcher focused a fair bit on Geralt's preparations and gadgets, and the fight against the bruxa had a major emotional component, butchering Renfri's band is all about the rhythm. The combatants dance across the marketplace, and whoever stumbles or oversteps gets slaughtered. (I can't believe there isn't a single decent tune literally called "feel the rhythm" out there)

Witcher skills:
A shield sign (presumably not Quen).

Incredible sexual charisma.

Xander77 fucked around with this message at 09:35 on Apr 22, 2018

# ? Dec 24, 2017 17:39

Jonny Nox: Apr 26, 2008

Looks like the game is on GOG.com for $1.89 cdn until Jan. 15

# ? Jan 10, 2018 06:47

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

Let's Read Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher

Book 1: The Last Wish

Story 4 - A Question of Price

This part of Voice of Reason consists of Geralt monologue at Iola (the mute novitiate). I'm going to quote it extensively, as this is the most (and most reliable) insight we had into Geralt's backstory and motivations thus far.

Voice of Reason part 4 posted:

'Let's talk, lola.

'I need this conversation. They say silence is golden. Maybe it is, although I'm not sure it's worth that much. It has its price certainly; you have to pay for it.

'It's easier for you. Yes it is, don't deny it. You're silent through choice; you've made it a sacrifice to your goddess. I don't believe in Melitele, don't believe in the existence of other gods either, but I respect your choice, your sacrifice. Your belief. Because your faith and sacrifice, the price you're paying for your silence, will make you a better, a greater being. Or, at least, it could. But my faithlessness can do nothing. It's powerless.

'You ask what I believe in, in that case.

'I believe in the sword.

'As you can see, I carry two. Every witcher does. It's said, spitefully, the silver one is for monsters and the iron for humans. A lie, of course. As there are monsters which can be struck down only with a silver blade, so there are those for whom iron is lethal. And lola, not just any iron, it must come from a meteorite. What is a meteorite, you ask? It's a falling star. You must have seen them - short, luminous streaks in the night. You've probably made a wish on one. Perhaps it was one more reason for you to believe in the gods. For me, a meteorite is nothing more than a bit of metal, primed by the sun and its fall, metal to make swords.

...

'You don't know me at all, do you?

'I'm called Geralt. Geralt of- No. Only Geralt. Geralt of nowhere. I'm a witcher.

'My home is Kaer Morhen, the Witcher's Abode. It's ... It was a fortress. Not much remains of it.

'Kaer Morhen . . . That's where the likes of me were produced. It's not done anymore, no one lives in Kaer Morhen now. No one but Vesemir. Who's Vesemir? My father. Why are you so surprised? What's so strange about it? Everyone's got a father, and mine is Vesemir. And so what if he's not my real father? I didn't know him, or my mother. I don't even know if they're still alive, and I don't much care.

Yes, Kaer Morhen. I underwent the usual mutation there, through the Trial of Grasses, and then hormones, herbs, viral infections. And then through them all again. And again, to the bitter end. Apparently, I took the changes unusually well; I was only ill briefly. I was considered to be to be properly immunized - that's a fancy scholarly term - and was chosen for more complicated experiments as a result. They were worse. Much worse. But, as you see, I survived. The only one to live out of all those chosen for further trials. My hair's been white ever since. Total loss of pigmentation. A side-effect, as they say. A trifle.

'Then they taught me various things until the day when I left Kaer Morhen and took to the road. I'd earned my medallion, the Sign of the Wolf's School. I had two swords: silver and iron, and my conviction, enthusiasm, incentive and . . . faith. Faith that I was needed in a world full of monsters and beasts, to protect the innocent. As I left Kaer Morhen I dreamed of meeting my first monster. I couldn't wait to stand eye to eye with him. And the moment arrived.

'My first monster, Iola, was bald and had exceptionally rotten teeth. I came across him on the highway where, with some fellow monsters, deserters, he'd stopped a peasant's cart and pulled out a little girl, maybe thirteen years old. His companions held her father while the bald man tore off her dress, yelling it was time for her to meet a real man. I rode up and said the time had come for him, too - I thought I was very witty. The bald monster released the girl and threw himself at me with an axe. He was slow but tough. I hit him twice - not clean cuts, but spectacular, and only then did he fall. His gang ran away when they saw what a witcher's sword could do to a man . . .

'Am I boring you, Iola?

'I need this. I really do need it.

'Where was I? My first noble deed. You see, they'd told me again and again in Kaer Morhen not to get involved in such incidents, not to play at being knight errant or uphold the law. Not to show off, but to work for money. And I got into this fight, like an idiot, not fifty miles from the mountains. And do you know why? I wanted the girl, sobbing with gratitude, to kiss her saviour on the hands, and her father to thank me on his knees. In reality her father fled with his attackers, and the girl, drenched in the bald man's blood, threw up, became hysterical and fainted in fear when I approached her. Since then, I've only very rarely interfered in such matters.

'I did my job. I quickly learnt how. I'd ride up to village enclosures or town pickets and wait. If they spat, cursed and threw stones I rode away. If someone came out to give me a commission, I'd carry it out.

...

'Mistakes? Of course I've made them. But I keep to my principles. No, not the code. Although I have at times hidden behind a code. People like that. Those who follow a code are often respected and held in high esteem. But no one's ever compiled a witcher's code. I invented mine. Just like that. And keep to it. Always-

'Well, almost always.

'There have been situations where it seemed there wasn't any room for doubt. When I should say to myself "What do I care? It's nothing to do with me, I'm a witcher". When I should listen to the voice of reason. To listen to my instinct, even if it's fear, if not to what my experience dictates.

'I should have listened to the voice of reason that time . . .

'I didn't.

'I thought I was choosing the lesser evil. I chose the lesser evil. Lesser evil! I'm Geralt of Rivia. . . I'm the Butcher of Blaviken-

'Don't touch me! It might make you . . . You might see . . . and I don't want you to. I don't want to know. I know my fate whirls about me like water in a weir. It's hard on my heels, following my tracks, but I never look back.

A loop? Yes, that's what Nenneke sensed. What tempted me, I wonder, in Cintra? How could I have taken such a risk so foolishly-?

'No, no, no. I never look back. I'll never return to Cintra. I'll avoid it like the plague. I'll never go back there.

Narrator: He ended up going back there.

This is a fairly straightforward (on-the-nose, really) look at what Geralt wants to be and why. The world gives him very little incentive to be the knight in shining armor he might have been under other circumstances, and in the hands of a different author.

This is probably the one section of Voice of Reason most directly connected to the following short story. In fact, I'd rather recommend re-reading it the moment you're done with the short story for some interesting insights into what makes Geralt tick in both sections.

I've omitted a few sentences worth of foreshadowing that make the conclusion of the story overtly clear - because, obviously, I know better than Pan Sapkowski just how much the reader should know in advance.

Note how everyone, including CD Projekt, basically dropped "both swords are for monsters".

A Question of Price posted:

Geralt is shaved, washed and dressed for his appearance at the Cintra court, in a scene that the first meeting with Emhyr ~~rips off wholesale~~ homages extensively. He is going to be introduced as Ravix of Fourhorn, and seated besides the queen, who has need of his services. What services, exactly? The Castellan would rather not specify.

quote:
'Your job isn't to be surprised. And I strongly advise you, witcher, that if the queen orders you to strip naked, paint your arse blue and hang yourself upside down in the entrance hall like a chandelier, you do it without surprise or hesitation. Otherwise you might meet with a fair amount of unpleasantness. Have you got that?'

Calanthe, the dowager queen of Cintra, hosts a banquet for suitors for the hand of Pavetta, her daughter. 15 and of age to wed, the Cintrians are hoping to arrange her marriage with the ~~Vikings~~ Skelligans, on the basis that:

quote:
'Those they're allied with aren't attacked as often as others.

The Skelligans are represented by Crach an Craite (the proposed husband to Pavetta - very young, and making it quite clear where Hjalmar gets his personality from) Eist Tuirseach (Crach's uncle, and a total silver fox) Mousesack (a druid) and Draig Bon-Dhu (a Celtic bard, with bagpipes in hand). But other suitors will also be present, to maintain appearances: the pubescent Prince Windhalm of Attre, his bodyguard / nanny Rainfarn, and also Tinglant, Fodcat and Wieldhill, who don't actually matter in the slightest.

Baron Eylembert of Tigg (also known as Coodcoodak, which I supposed ought to have been translated into English as Cockadoodledoo, or something along those lines) assures Calanthe that his wife's health would deteriorate in a hurry, should he be considered an acceptable match. This murderous remark is taken in the same humorous fashion it was apparently intended, and he's permitted to attend the feast, entertaining the guests with his animal impressions (hence his nickname).

As the guests get drunk, Calanthe finally deigns to enlighten Geralt as to his purpose (kinda, but not really). She considers witchers to be mere swords for hire, and feels no need to specify where said sword will strike before the moment comes. Geralt, feeling quite confident (if not outright suicidal), corrects her. Witchers may be hired swords, but not hired assassins. And just as a queen may have ways of "influencing" witchers, witchers have ways of influencing even the highest personages.

Calanthe warns him against ever contradicting royals, and asserts that anyone may be bought. It is only a question of price - a witcher volunteering to solve a problem may name his, a witcher forced to solve a problem will have to settle for whatever price she sees fit to name.

As Draig Bon-Dhu unleashes his bagpipes, and everyone does the obvious "oh noes, ~~Scottish~~ Skellige music" jokes, Mousesack covertly exchanges information with Geralt by animating leftovers into runes. (I think the first question he asks is whether Geralt is in fact a witcher, but it's hard to be sure). Pavetta enters the hall. She's, like, totally banging and poo poo.

quote:
'Aha,' said Calanthe quietly, clearly pleased. 'And what do you say, Geralt? The girl has taken after her mother. It's even a shame to waste her on that red-haired lout, Crach. The only hope is that the pup might grow into someone with Eist Tuirseach's class. It's the same blood, after all. Are you listening, Geralt? Cintra has to form an alliance with Skellige because the interest of the state demands it. My daughter has to marry the right person. Those are the results you must ensure me.'

'I have to ensure that? Isn't your will alone sufficient for it to happen?'

'Events might take such a turn that it won't be sufficient.'

'What can be stronger than your will?'

'Destiny.'

The captain of the guard approaches Calanthe, and she gives him some orders. An unknown knight, clad in spiky helm and plate mail, enters the hall. He introduces himself as Urcheon of Erlenwald, and explains that he has made a chivalrous vow forbidding him from revealing his face before midnight.

He banters with Calanthe, as she keeps interrupting him during what is obviously a long-prepared speech, finally coming to a point:

quote:
Your words, your Majesty,' called Urcheon, 'are calculated to frighten me, to kindle the anger of the honourable gentlemen gathered here, and the contempt of your pretty daughter, Pavetta. But above all, your words are untrue. And you know it!'

'You accuse me of lying like a dog.' An ugly grimace crept across Calanthe's lips.

'You know very well, your Majesty,' the newcomer continued adamantly, 'what happened then in Erlenwald. You know Roegner, once saved, vowed of his own will to give me whatever I asked for. I call upon every one to witness my words! When the king, rescued from his misadventure, reached his retinue, he asked me what I demanded and I answered. I asked him to promise me whatever he had left at home without knowing or expecting it. The king swore it would be so, and on his return to the castle he found you, Calanthe, in labour. Yes, your Majesty, I waited for fifteen years and the interest on my reward has grown. Today I look at the beautiful Pavetta and see that the wait has been worth it! Gentlemen and knights! Some of you have come to Cintra to ask for the princess's hand. You have come in vain. From the day of her birth, by the power of the royal oath, the beautiful Pavetta has belonged to me!'

Mousesack and Geralt can feel a concentration of magic in the hall. The queen gives whispered instructions to a servant, while the guests get into a major argument:

quote:
'If what he says is true,' Eist frowned, 'then the promise will have to be kept.'

'Is that so?'

'Or am I to understand,' the islander asked grimly, 'that you treat all promises this lightly, including those which have etched themselves so deeply in my memory?'

Geralt, who had never expected to see Calanthe blush deeply, with tears in her eyes and trembling lips, was surprised.

'Eist,' whispered the queen, 'this is different-'

'Is it, really?'

'Oh, you son-of-a-bitch!' Crach an Craite yelled unexpectedly, jumping up. 'The last fool who said I'd acted in vain was pinched apart by crabs at the bottom of Allenker bay! I didn't sail here from Skellige to return empty-handed! A husband-to-be, you son of a whore! Someone bring me a sword and give that idiot some iron! We'll soon see who-'

'Maybe you could just shut up, Crach?' Eist snapped scathingly, resting both fists on the table. 'Draig Bon-Dhu! I render you responsible for his future behaviour!'

'And are you going to silence me, too, Tuirseach?' shouted Rainfarn of Attre, standing up. 'Who is going to stop me from washing the insult thrown at my prince away with blood? And his son, Windhalm, the only man worthy of Pavetta's hand and bed! Bring the swords! I'll show that Urcheon, or whatever he's called, how we of Attre take revenge for such abuse! I wonder whether anybody or anything can hold me back?'

...

'A great many people, I see,' said Calanthe in a drawling voice, 'have an opinion on this problem and are offering it even without my permission. Strange that you aren't interested in mine? And in my opinion, this bloody castle will sooner collapse on my head than I give my Pavetta to this... freak. I haven't the least intention-'

'Roegner's oath-' Urcheon began, but the queen silenced him, banging her golden goblet on the table.

'Roegner's oath means about as much to me as last year's snows! And as for you, Urcheon, I haven't decided whether to allow Crach or Rainfarn to meet you outside, or to simply hang you. You're greatly influencing my decision with your interruptions!'

...

'Sirs! Have you not heard of children marked out by destiny? Was not the legendary hero, Zatret Voruta, given to the dwarves as a child because he was the first person his father met on his return? And Mad Dei, who demanded a traveller give him what he left at home without knowing it? That surprise was the famous Supree, who later liberated Mad Dei from the curse which weighed him down. Remember Zivelena, who became the Queen of Metinna with the help of the gnome Rumplestelt, and in return promised him her first-born? Zivelena didn't keep her promise when Rumplestelt came for his reward and, by using spells, she forced him to run away. Not long after that, both she and the child died of the plague. You do not dice with Destiny with impunity!'

'Don't threaten me, Coodcoodak,' Calanthe grimaced. 'Midnight is close, the time for ghosts. Can you remember any more legends from your undoubtedly difficult childhood? If not, then sit down.'

'I ask your Grace,' the baron turned up his long whiskers, 'to allow me to remain standing. I'd like to remind everybody of another legend. It's an old, forgotten legend - we've all probably heard it in our difficult childhoods. In this legend, the kings kept their promises. And we, poor vassals, are only bound to kings by the royal word: treaties, alliances, our privileges and fiefs all rely on it. And now? Are we to doubt all this? Doubt the inviolability of the king's word? Wait to see the day when it's worth as much as yesteryear's snow? If this is how things are to be then a difficult old age awaits us after our difficult childhoods!'

Calanthe has no choice but to agree that Coodcoodak is right - a king's word is his bond. So Pavetta will be surrendered to a kinless vagabond, and the suitors will just have to go back empty handed.

quote:
Amidst the hum of voices which rumbled through the guests, the witcher managed to pick out Eist Tuirseach's whisper.

'On all the gods of the sea,' sighed the islander. 'This isn't right. This is open incitement to bloodshed. Calanthe, you're simply setting them against each other-'

'Be quiet, Eist,' hissed the queen furiously, 'because I'll get angry.'

But before any of the guests can properly process the implication, and issue a formal challenge (or just get to stabbing), Geralt intervenes.

quote:
'Everyone heard,' spoke Geralt, 'Baron Tigg tell us about the famous heroes taken from their parents on the strength of the same oath that Urcheon received from King Roegner. But why should anyone want such an oath? You know the answer, Urcheon of Erlenwald. It creates a powerful, indissoluble tie of destiny between the person demanding the oath and its object, the child-surprise. Such a child, marked by blind fate, can be destined for extraordinary things. It can play an incredibly important role in the life of the person to whom fate has tied it. That is why, Urcheon, you demanded the prize you claim today. You don't want the throne of Cintra. You want the princess.'

...

'Roegner knew the power of the Law of Surprise and the gravity of the oath he took. And he took it because he knew law and custom have a power which protects such oaths, ensuring they are only fulfilled when the force of destiny confirms them. I declare, Urcheon, that you have no right to the princess as yet. You will win her only when-'

'When what?'

'When the princess herself agrees to leave with you. This is what the Law of Surprise states. It is the child's, not the parent's, consent which confirms the oath, which proves that the child was born under the shadow of destiny. That's why you returned after fifteen years, Urcheon, and that's the condition King Roegner stipulated in his oath.'

...

Who are you, Geralt of Rivia, to claim to be an oracle in matters of laws and customs?'

'He knows this law better than anyone else,' Mousesack said in a hoarse voice, 'because it applied to him once. He was taken from his home because he was what his father hadn't expected to find on his return. Because he was destined for other things. And by the power of destiny he became what he is.'

'And what is he?'

'A witcher.'

The bells ring midnight, and the Urcheon takes off his helm. I kinda have to post this:

(From the terrible "The Hexxer" tv series. As described in the text, the snout is more bestial than adorable)

quote:
'This is how I look,' spoke the creature, 'which you well knew, Calanthe. Roegner, in telling you of his oath, wouldn't have omitted describing me. Urcheon of Erlenwald to whom - despite my appearance - Roegner swore his oath. You prepared well for my arrival, queen. Your own vassals have pointed out your haughty and contemptuous refusal to keep Roegner's word. When your attempt to set the other suitors on me didn't succeed, you still had a killer witcher in reserve, ready at your right-hand. And finally, common, low deceit. You wanted to humiliate me, Calanthe. Know that it is yourself you have humiliated.'

'Enough,' Calanthe stood up and rested her clenched fist on her hip. 'Let's put an end to this. Pavetta! You see who, or rather what, is standing in front of you, claiming you for himself. In accordance with the Law of Surprise and eternal custom, the decision is yours. Answer. One word from you is enough. Yes, and you become the property, the conquest, of this monster. No, and you will never have to see him again.'

The Force pulsating in the hall was squeezing Geralt's temples like an iron vice, buzzing in his ears, making the hair on his neck stand on end. The witcher looked at Mousesack's whitening knuckles, clenched at the edge of the table. At the trickle of sweat running down the queen's cheek. At the breadcrumbs on the table, moving like insects, forming runes, dispersing and again gathering into one word: CAREFUL!

'Pavetta!' Calanthe repeated. 'Answer. Do you choose to leave with this creature?'

Pavetta raised her head. 'Yes.'
The Urcheon commands Calanthe to come on down and place her daughter's hand in his. The guests take a moment to process this, then spring into action.

Rainfarn draws a dagger and jumps the Urcheon, trying to find a vulnerable spot in his armor. Crach an Craite jumps to Rainfarn's help, but is knocked out from behind by his bard. Guards swarm the room, holding the Urcheon down for a good stabbing. Geralt, Eist and Coodcoodak try to oppose them, but are about to be overwhelmed, when Pavetta screams.

Apparently she was the Source of magic energy in the room, and just the untutored manifestation of raw power is enough to send everyone flying. Calanthe is thrown across the room, where Eist shelters her in his arms.

quote:
Geralt crawled to Mousesack and they hid behind the heap formed by Fodcat of Strept, a barrel of beer, Drogodar, a chair and Drogodar's lute, in that order.

'It's pure, primordial Force!' the druid yelled over the racket and clatter. 'She's got no control over it!'

'I know!' Geralt yelled back. A roast pheasant with a few striped feathers still stuck in its rump, fell from nowhere and thumped him in the back.

'She has to be restrained! The walls are starting to crack!'

'I can see!'

'Ready?'

'Yes!'

'One! Two! Now!'

They both hit her simultaneously, Geralt with the Sign of Aard and Mousesack with a terrible, three-staged curse powerful enough to make the floor melt. The chair on which the princess was standing disintegrated into splinters. Pavetta barely noticed - she hung in the air within a transparent green sphere. Without ceasing to shout, she turned her head towards them and her petite face shrunk into a sinister grimace.

'Gods-damned-' roared Mousesack.

'Careful!' shouted the witcher, curling up. 'Block her, Mousesack! Block her or it's the end of us!'

The table thudded heavily to the ground, shattering its trestle and everything beneath it. Crach an Craite, who was lying on the table, was thrown into the air. A heavy rain of plates and remnants of food fell; crystal carafes exploded as they hit the ground. The cornice broke away from the wall, rumbling like thunder, making the floors of the castle quake.

'Everything's letting go!' Mousesack shouted, aiming his wand at the princess. 'The whole Force is going to fall on us!'

Geralt, with a blow of his sword, deflected a huge double-pronged fork which was flying straight at the druid.

Coodcoodak strains his imitation power to the limit in order to distract Pavetta, a distraction which Geralt and Mousesack use to knock her out. If this is meant to be a humorous moment in the story, then the humor is extremely dry / doesn't translate well.

Everyone takes a moment to catch their breath. The Urcheon (Duny) turns back into a handsome human, now that midnight has truly come. Eist and Calanthe, coming out of her swoon, declare their feelings for one another.

quote:
'The youth of today,' snorted Mousesack, looking in their direction. 'They start early! They've only got one thing on their minds.'

'What's that?'

'Didn't you know, witcher, that a virgin, that is, one who's untouched, wouldn't be able to use the Force?'

Calanthe invites the relevant parties into her chambers, for an explanation. Duny was (obviously) cursed with the face of a beast. He wandered the world in search of a cure, until coming up with the whole "child of destiny" thing as a last resort. Apparently it failed, as he and Pavetta have been at it for a year, and he's still cursed. Duny is welcome to Pavetta's hand though, as long as he's willing to wait for the crown - Calanthe and Eist are going to be the new royal couple.

quote:
'The youth of today,' muttered Mousesack. 'The apple doesn't fall far-'

'What are you mumbling, sorcerer?'

'Nothing, ma'am.'

Dawn comes, yet Duny remains in human form. Apparently Destiny has some serious hangups about lawfully sanctioned unions, as Duny's involvement with Pavetta didn't count until she was given to him with the proper pomp and circumstance.

quote:
'And so,' sighed Calanthe, looking at Geralt with tired eyes, 'all's well that ends well. Don't you agree, witcher? The curse has been lifted, two weddings are on their way, it'll take about a month to repair the throne-room, there are four dead, countless wounded and Rainfarn of Attre is half-dead. Let's celebrate. Do you know, witcher, that there was a moment when I wanted to have you-'

'I know.'

'But now I have to do you justice. I demanded a result and got one. Cintra is allied to Skellige. My daughter's marrying the right man. For a moment I thought all this would have been fulfilled according to destiny anyway, even if I hadn't had you brought in for the feast and sat you next to me. But I was wrong. Rainfam's dagger could have changed destiny. And Rainfarn was stopped by a sword held by a witcher. You've done an honest job, Geralt. Now it's a question of price. Tell me what you want.'

'Hold on,' said Duny, fingering his bandaged side. 'A question of price, you say. It is I who am in debt, it's up to me-'

...

'I still say I am in your debt, witcher. It is my life that Rainfam's dagger endangered. I would have been beaten to death by the guards without you. If there's talk of a price then I should be the one to pay. I assure you I can afford it. What do you ask, Geralt?'

'Duny,' said Geralt slowly, 'a witcher who is asked such a question has to ask to have it repeated.'

'I repeat, therefore. Because, you see, I am in your debt for still another reason. When I found out who you were, there in the hall, I hated you and thought very badly of you. I took you for a blind, bloodthirsty tool, for someone who kills coldly and without question, who wipes his blade clean of blood and counts the cash. But I've become convinced that the witcher's profession is worthy of respect. You protect us not only from the evil lurking in the darkness, but also from that which lies within ourselves. It's a shame there are so few of you.'

...

'Duny,' said Geralt seriously, 'Calanthe, Pavetta. And you, righteous knight Tuirseach, future king of Cintra. In order to become a witcher, you have to be born in the shadow of destiny, and very few are born like that. That's why there are so few of us. We're growing old, dying, without anyone to pass our knowledge, our gifts, on to. We lack successors. And this world is full of Evil which waits for the day none of us are left.'

'Geralt,' whispered Calanthe.

'Yes, you're not wrong, queen. Duny! You will give me that which you already have but do not know. I'll return to Cintra in six years to see if destiny has been kind to me.'

'Pavetta,' Duny opened his eyes wide. 'Surely you're not-'

'Pavetta!' exclaimed Calanthe. 'Are you . . . are you-?'

The princess lowered her eyes and blushed. Then replied.

For a collection of disparate short stories, the first book really fits in well with the "epic Witcher saga". With the sole exception of A Grain of Truth, which strongly reinforces themes raised elsewhere, but isn't terribly relevant in and of itself, most everything we've reviewed so far will be fundamentally important to Geralt. But this story is the main crux from which most further plot developments in the sage proper stem. Unfortunate, then, then this is probably the weakest story in the first book, as it revolves mostly around uncharacteristically poorly written banter and intrigue. The workings of Destiny are going to be immensely important for the plot to come (which is why I quoted so much of that exposition) but are still both vague and ploddingly boring.

On the one hand, it's nice to see banter that involves someone besides Geralt - it allows for some diversity of styles of argument. It's also interesting to see that not every random noble in the witcher universe is a complete dickbag. On the other hand, both Calanthe and Duny are hella stupid here.

Calanthe REALLY should have settled on a concrete plan to which the witcher would agree before settings things in motion. Obviously, there's suspense in not knowing the details, but the artifice is a bit too naked. Duny is at least moderately more willing to get to the point, but he also rises to every single piece of bait thrown his way, no matter how obvious, and basically dares everyone involved murder him, repeatedly.

And apparently Destiny works by turning everyone involved into a drooling moron / outright puppeteering people? Geralt ~~isn't into, like, a relationship right now, man~~ doesn't WANT to have a child. None of the Cintrian royals ostensibly wants to hand him the child. So what the hell?

There's a repetitive... joke?... about a voivode with a hard to remember name. Absolutely no idea what that is about - a question for some more into inside jokes than I.

When I was first recapping the story, I concluded that Mousesack healed all the injuries, and this is the first witcher story that ends with everyone in one piece. And then I got to Calenthe's summary of the feast - four deaths, though thankfully none are a named character. I feel like this story struggles with it's mostly comedic tone, and fails to balance it with weighty intrigues and matters of destiny. The next story we'll go over maintains its comi-tragic tone much better.

Last and most certainly least, I still deeply loathe Sapkowski's written tick of "And answered". I think it's meant to evoke fairy tale diction, but if so, it doesn't translate at all.

Witcher Skills:

Umm... basic literacy?

Xander77 fucked around with this message at 08:31 on Feb 11, 2018

# ? Jan 13, 2018 16:09

OAquinas: Jan 27, 2008; Biden has sat immobile on the Iron Throne of America. He is the Master of Malarkey by the will of the gods, and master of a million votes by the might of his inexhaustible calamari.

He used the Aard sign too.

# ? Jan 14, 2018 01:12

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

OAquinas posted:

He used the Aard sign too.

Yeah, but that was mentioned in previous recaps.

# ? Jan 14, 2018 09:03

DMorbid: Jan 6, 2011; Hello! I see you.

Hi, I'm not dead. I ended up taking a break from LPing for January because I had a lot of important poo poo to focus on, but now I'm back and updates will resume this week. Thanks for your patience.

# ? Jan 31, 2018 16:46

Blasphemaster: Jul 10, 2008

Doc Morbid posted:

Hi, I'm not dead. I ended up taking a break from LPing for January because I had a lot of important poo poo to focus on, but now I'm back and updates will resume this week. Thanks for your patience.

Woo. I only completed this game once despite starting it many times, so I'm looking forward to seeing how you approach all the decision making that is to be had.

# ? Feb 1, 2018 06:08

DMorbid: Jan 6, 2011; Hello! I see you.

Part 08: Knight of the Flaming Rose

------

Welcome to Chapter II of The Witcher. Last time, Geralt finally got into Vizima, which would've been great if he hadn't been brought there as a prisoner and thrown into the city dungeon. Obviously, our next order of business is to get out of jail.

That thief's bugging me.

Closeups of NPC faces never fail to be utterly terrifying.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Ah, it appears this charming fellow wants to be friends with Geralt. We really don't have time for socializing in our current situation, though.

Before we get to tell chufty boy here that our dance card is all full, the captain of the guard turns up and tells one of the guards to open the cell for whatever reason.

We really don't have time for this poo poo.

We never said we did, so I'm not sure what his problem is.

Oh, look who it is. Good old Professor, or Magister, or whatever you want to call him. We have plenty of questions for him, but sadly we're on the wrong side of the bars and can only watch as he walks away. Again.

Well, at least until he sees Geralt and decides to come and taunt us through the bars.

Technically, so is Geralt!

To be honest, the Professor isn't entirely wrong in his assessment there. Witchers are a relic from a bygone time, although of course their skills are still useful when you need a monster-related problem solved.

Right. The quest blurb says we should talk to Jethro, but we're not exactly in a position to ask him any questions right now.

Let's look around and see if any of our cellmates might be of any use to us.

Why are you here, elf?

Delighting in the last moments of my life, or trying to. I hang tomorrow... I have a request.

Mhm.

I've always found games pleasant and Jethro let me keep my dice. If you don't have your own set, we can share mine.

Ughh. :negative:

Well, I suppose we shouldn't deny the condemned man his last request, so let's play some dice poker.

On second thought, gently caress this guy. He can't hang soon enough. :argh:

Gah! Stop doing that, The Witcher!

How is Princess Adda doing these days, by the way? Haven't seen her since she almost tore Geralt's throat out.

seriously man what's wrong with your face

Still, killing a cockatrice is just the job for a professional monster-slayer, so we're on it.

I'm the better candidate.

The creep in the corner claims he'll defeat it bare fisted.

Which creep?

I love the delivery of that line.

Piece of cake.

All right, I guess we're fighting this tubby bastard, just like he wanted.

Let's do it.

Down he goes. This would be more dramatic if you could actually see what's happening, but the important thing is that we won the fight.

Next time you'll get beaten.

I'll bet. Let's go back to Captain Vincent Meis and get out of this dump.

I'm almost proud.

Want to slay the beast or would you rather just stand there?

I need a weapon.

That's funny, we recently confiscated a witcher's sword.

I'm assuming he doesn't mean ours.

Not your business. Jethro, bring that silver sword.

Jethro here doesn't seem like the brightest guy around, which might be something we could use to our advantage later.

Get it from Jethro. The rest of your gear's in deposit for afterwards.

Fine.

One more thing. I'll pay extra for the monster's head, provided it's undamaged...

I'll see what I can do.

So maybe don't shove your sword through the cockatrice's face. Got it. Speaking of which, we should probably get that sword first.

Yes. We also confiscated a potion. Once you've completed your task, collect your belongings from behind the bars.

I'll ask about it. Then I'll get the Professor.

Stupid. The Professor just does the wet work. If you want to be effective, you'd strike at his boss. Though I doubt you'd succeed. He's a big player. He has... concessions...

Connections, you mean. I'll find him.

Yes, can we please get on with it?

All right. Down to the sewers we go. Joy of joys.

Looks like we're interrupting someone's dinner.

Come on now Geralt, that drowner wasn't doing anything to you and would've probably gone right back to his corpse-devouring business after you passed by.

Oh well, I suppose we've got to show off our new silver sword. Once we get out of this sewer, we should visit that Thaler guy they confiscated the sword from.

Good lord, it's dark down here. To be fair, it's a sewer so that's kind of expected.

At least we manage to find a torch, and we've also got a Cat potion so the darkness isn't going to be a problem for very long.

Hm? I didn't think we'd run into another person down here.

Skip the medical exam.

Forgive me, I meant no harm. I'm Siegfried, a Knight of the Order of the Flaming Rose.

I'm Geralt.

I've heard much praise concerning the combat skills of witchers.

If you don't mind, I have some work to do down here and I'd like to get it done fast.

A cockatrice, correct? That's why I'm here.

Hey, wait a minute. We need to kill that thing to get out of prison, and that's not going to work if some weirdo kills the cockatrice instead of us.

I think Geralt could probably use a primer on cockatrices, so let's ask Siegfried what he knows about the creature.

Go on...

The cockatrice is frequently mistaken for a basilisk - but they're two separate species. Contrary to common belief, the cockatrice's gaze does not turn people to stone, but one should beware of its beak. The monster's beak is apt to tear its opponents' vital organs out with surgical precision. Often, the victim is slain immediately, especially when taken from behind.

Siegfried talks like he has a whole series of encyclopedias stuck up his rear end, but that is some useful information regardless.

You need to excel at swordsmanship. Without a silver sword, it'll be more difficult. A cockatrice likes to sneak up from behind and attack.

Anything useful to be taken from the carcass?

Its eyes are quite a versatile component -- and precious. Its tail feathers are even more valuable.

Impressive knowledge.

"...nerd"

No, I wasn't at home at the time. When I returned, I discovered my father, despite his infirmity, had decided to fight the manticore. He asked to be tied to a horse and with a prayer, he charged the beast. As you can surmise, he met a tragic end. When I reached the site of their struggle, the monster was in horrible pain, seconds from dying. When it could not dislodge my father from his armor, it nearly swallowed the old man whole. Later they would say the sacred fire in Eyck's soul burnt the monster's heart.

A heroic death...

Yeah, that's a hell of a way to go. I can only assume that Siegfried would've instead tried to talk the monster to death, and in fact I'm not entirely sure he's not trying to do that to us right now.

The sacred flame will guide me.

What prompted you to enter the sewers after a beast?

It threatens Vizima. The Order's been fighting beasts for a while. Rather effectively, too.

Wait... that's witchers' work.

Hm. On one hand, it feels a bit wrong to work alongside a Knight of the Order, especially one who's here to do our job, but on the other, if we happen to get ambushed by the cockatrice it'll be useful to have someone on our side... if only to get killed and/or eaten first. Plus, if we take Siegfried along, at least we can keep an eye on him.

You lead.

Yep, we sure do have a silver sword. We haven't put any skill points into our silver sword styles, but there should be a campfire somewhere nearby.

Of course, there's also plenty of drowners, but our silver sword makes quick work of them.

Let's just clear this pile of rubble with Aard and see what's on the other side.

Ah, just what we needed.

We've got six points, and we'll spread them evenly across the three styles, taking level 2 and a damage bonus for each.

Actually, I ended up taking two damage bonuses for Fast Silver, because at this point I expect it to be more useful than Strong Silver.

That'll do it.

There's also a Place of Power at the end of the tunnel, so let's get that boost for our sign intensity.

There isn't that much to the sewers, just a couple of paths we can take. We can find some items if we look around, but most of them are rather useless.

We should check out this corpse, though.

Lionhead Spider, huh? Sounds ominous. There is also a "letter for Knight Eric" in the dead knight's (presumably Eric himself) possessions:

Letter for Knight Eric posted:

Eric! The tortured blasphemers gave us only very general information. We know that the worshippers of the Lionhead Spider meet in one of the dungeons in the sewers. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to determine its location. One of the cultists had a key, which you will find enclosed. I wager anything that it opens the doors to the meeting place. Go into the sewers and try to locate the dungeon in question. Let the Eternal Fire light your way in the darkness.

Doesn't seem like the Eternal Fire did Eric here much good. In any event, we now know there's a Lionhead cultists' lair somewhere in the sewers, but we have more important things to take care of right now.

Whetstones and grindstones will temporarily boost Geralt's sword damage, which would be useful if I ever remembered to use them.

Looks like there's something at the back of the tunnel there, can't quite make it out though.

Well then, I presume that's our mighty cockatrice. Let's do this.

Hm. Well. That was easier than expected. :geno:

If you don't use Aard, the cockatrice can actually gently caress you up, but... well, why wouldn't you use Aard?

I don't think I can go back the way I came.

Come, I'll lead you to the exit. Take the cockatrice's head. Vincent pays well for trophies.

Very well, though it reeks.

I guess the Order doesn't really care who kills the cockatrice, as long as the thing is dead. I guess they're also going to take Siegfried's word for it, since it doesn't seem like he took any kind of proof of the kill with him.

Amid the various cockatrice bits, we find... err... whatever the hell this doodad is.

Next time, we'll hopefully earn our freedom by dropping a smelly bird-lizard head on Vincent Meis' desk. Then we'll start hunting down the Professor and his boss.

------

DMorbid fucked around with this message at 13:38 on Feb 3, 2018

# ? Feb 3, 2018 12:31

achtungnight: Oct 5, 2014; I get my fun here. Enjoy!

Sewer Levels... such a joy. I'll take Witchers over people like The Professor any day.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 13:07

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

My Witcher recaps will get to Eyck in a few stories.

I wonder what happens if you actually let the fatty beat you in a fistfight.

People who aren't privy to Warsaw pact culture - does "I'm an honest thief, don't jail me side by side with politicals" make any sort of sense to you?

Xander77 fucked around with this message at 13:41 on Feb 3, 2018

# ? Feb 3, 2018 13:37

Aumanor: Nov 9, 2012

The single most shocking piece of information from this update is that Eyck of Denesle has managed to get laid at least once in his life.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 14:35

RedSnapper: Nov 22, 2016

Xander77 posted:

I wonder what happens if you actually let the fatty beat you in a fistfight.

IIRC you get an extra cutscene where Vincent comes to you and says something in the vein of "Welp, that guy never came back. Who's next?"

achtungnight posted:

Sewer Levels... such a joy.

I'll take that sewer level over THE SWAMP

# ? Feb 3, 2018 15:22

Blasphemaster: Jul 10, 2008

I hate sewer levels so, so much.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 17:08

Schubalts: Nov 26, 2007; People say bigger is better.

But for the first time in my life, I think I've gone too far.

Xander77 posted:

People who aren't privy to Warsaw pact culture - does "I'm an honest thief, don't jail me side by side with politicals" make any sort of sense to you?

Nobody likes politicians?

# ? Feb 3, 2018 19:10

BioEnchanted: Aug 9, 2011; He plays for the dreamers that forgot how to dream, and the lovers that forgot how to love.

This'll be interesting - I played very little of Witcher 2 on steam, but loved Witcher 3 and actually beat that one. Witcher 2 had this weird tone thing for me with these guys at the starting area where the game seemed to treat a crime they committed off camera (or tried to) maybe later in this game so I'll spoiler the mention (although it could have been a book thing) like almost a weird joke - the line was something like "*awkardly with great trepidation, since he's kind of their general right now* Sorry about the rape..." "What rape?" "Nothing... nothing..."
Overall I found everyone so unpleasant in 2 that I just bounced off it.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 19:35

Lokapala: Jan 6, 2013

BioEnchanted posted:

This'll be interesting - I played very little of Witcher 2 on steam, but loved Witcher 3 and actually beat that one. Witcher 2 had this weird tone thing for me with these guys at the starting area where the game seemed to treat a crime they committed off camera (or tried to) maybe later in this game so I'll spoiler the mention (although it could have been a book thing) like almost a weird joke - the line was something like "*awkardly with great trepidation, since he's kind of their general right now* Sorry about the rape..." "What rape?" "Nothing... nothing..."
Overall I found everyone so unpleasant in 2 that I just bounced off it.

The spoilered out thing references the books, not the first game. In fact, it references the story in which Siegfried's dad appears. I think there's... 2 more left before Xander reaches it?

Aumanor posted:

The single most shocking piece of information from this update is that Eyck of Denesle has managed to get laid at least once in his life.

The beauty of feudal order is that someone arranged it for him. We're talking lines of succession here, one cannot be caught unawares!

Lokapala fucked around with this message at 20:30 on Feb 3, 2018

# ? Feb 3, 2018 20:27

painedforever: Sep 12, 2017; Quem Deus Vult Perdere, Prius Dementat.

This sewer section didn't bother me too much, honestly. I mean, it's there, sure, but there have been worse ones. The one in VtM: Bloodlines, for instance. There didn't seem to be any additional mechanics that I recall, and the fight was okay. I was more miffed about my weapons being taken away.

The further we go, the more I think that Bioware stole quite a bit of The Witcher series for Dragon Age. The references in this episode to Witchers being a thing of the past sounds a lot like some of the dialogue choices for the player, in which they say that the Grey Wardens are an irrelevant order.

Bioware made Dragon Age "gritty", but they didn't quite capture that gloom and oppression that blankets the Witcher universe. At the risk of flouting a negative stereotype, it must be an Eastern European thing.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 20:38

Martian: May 29, 2005; Grimey Drawer

Lokapala posted:

We're talking lines of succession here, one cannot be caught unawares!

# ? Feb 3, 2018 21:01

BioEnchanted: Aug 9, 2011; He plays for the dreamers that forgot how to dream, and the lovers that forgot how to love.

I think the main thing that takes me out of these kind of stories is how the characters don't try to make excuses - most rapists find some way of blaming the victim, or trying to make out like it didn't happen, or that they deserved to get laid whatever the cost, but the guys (in Witcher 3 at least) don't - they're just like "Hi, I'm a serial rapist! How are you doing? Hey I'm gonna rape that girl over there, wanna come!" then get taken aback when a long shaft enters their body without their permission. Like they didn't expect this dude to want to shank them. For a series that loves grey areas is feels very black and white, although I am aware that the reason for it in 3 was they didn't make it obvious enough initially and they had to rewrite it because too many people were identifying with the rapists.

Spoilered to be safe although speaking in very general terms.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 21:15

Aumanor: Nov 9, 2012

Lokapala posted:

The spoilered out thing references the books, not the first game. In fact, it references the story in which Siegfried's dad appears. I think there's... 2 more left before Xander reaches it?

Yup, there's two stories (and three parts of The Voice of Reason) left in The Last Wish, and the aforementioned story opens The Sword of Destiny. It's also, IMO, the best story in both tomes. Which is good, because the one that follows it is bar none the worst, and I don't much care for the one after that, either.

Aumanor fucked around with this message at 21:39 on Feb 3, 2018

# ? Feb 3, 2018 21:35

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

Aumanor posted:

Which is good, because the one that follows it is bar none the worst, and I don't much care for the one after that, either.

For a moment I misremembered the story order, and thought you meant "A Little Sacrifice". Was about to fight you IRL.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 22:14

BioEnchanted: Aug 9, 2011; He plays for the dreamers that forgot how to dream, and the lovers that forgot how to love.

Xander77 posted:

For a moment I misremembered the story order, and thought you meant "A Little Sacrifice". Was about to fight you IRL.

Better use the Silver Sword, he's obviously a monster. :v:

# ? Feb 3, 2018 22:19

Valiantman: Jun 25, 2011; Ways to circumvent the Compact #6: Find a dreaming god and affect his dreams so that they become reality. Hey, it's not like it's you who's affecting the world. Blame the other guy for irresponsibly falling asleep.

Xander77 posted:

For a moment I misremembered the story order, and thought you meant "A Little Sacrifice". Was about to fight you IRL.

That's one of the best novels I've read in ages.

I like Siegfried's and Geralt's dialogue in the sewers a lot. You kind of lean towards accompanying him, it being practical and all, but you're also given enough of characterisation of the guy to decide that you may not want him along anyway.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 22:30

Aumanor: Nov 9, 2012

Xander77 posted:

For a moment I misremembered the story order, and thought you meant "A Little Sacrifice". Was about to fight you IRL.

Well, it is the one I mentioned not caring much about, so don't be so quick to call that fight off. Is it your favourite? How would you rank the stories? My private top 3 is, in descending order: The Bounds of Reason, The Edge of the World and Eternal Flame.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 23:04

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

The second and third stories in Sword of Destiny are "Shard of Ice" and "Eternal Flame", respectively. "A Little Sacrifice" is the 4th, so not only does your taste suck, but you can't count :P

I will leave any ranking for when I'm done with the first two books, at the very least. "A Little Sacrifice" is ranked pretty high though. Obviously.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 23:16

Aumanor: Nov 9, 2012

Xander77 posted:

The second and third stories in Sword of Destiny are "Shard of Ice" and "Eternal Flame", respectively. "A Little Sacrifice" is the 4th, so not only does your taste suck, but you can't count :P

I will leave any ranking for when I'm done with the first two books, at the very least. "A Little Sacrifice" is ranked pretty high though. Obviously.

gently caress, I completely misremembered. And you've quoted it, so now I can't even't even edit it out. But yeah, i consider ALS one of the weaker stories overall but unlike SoI it does at least have some good parts in it, like certain character's perfect summary of another character.

# ? Feb 3, 2018 23:33

steinrokkan: Apr 2, 2011; Soiled Meat

Schubalts posted:

Nobody likes politicians?

It's not that, it's a comment on what crimes were considered most serious and stigmatizing in the Soviet bloc, not a comment on the intristic value of politicians at all.

# ? Feb 4, 2018 00:40

OAquinas: Jan 27, 2008; Biden has sat immobile on the Iron Throne of America. He is the Master of Malarkey by the will of the gods, and master of a million votes by the might of his inexhaustible calamari.

Xander77 posted:

My Witcher recaps will get to Eyck in a few stories.

I wonder what happens if you actually let the fatty beat you in a fistfight.

People who aren't privy to Warsaw pact culture - does "I'm an honest thief, don't jail me side by side with politicals" make any sort of sense to you?

Political prisoners come in two flavors: the kind that are prosecuted and/or executed in very public/showy manner, or the kind that get locked away in the darkest and worst holes to never be seen by "the justice system" and the light of day again.

So if you're a "regular" criminal, to get tossed into one of those holes means you're hosed by association.

# ? Feb 4, 2018 05:11

Glazius: Jul 22, 2007; Hail all those who are able,
any mouse can,
any mouse will,
but the Guard prevail.; Clapping Larry

The advantage to the Flaming Rose, one supposes, is that you can generally reclaim armor and there are a lot more zealots than Witchers. Enough bodies means somebody succeeds by chance, right?

# ? Feb 5, 2018 01:38

OAquinas: Jan 27, 2008; Biden has sat immobile on the Iron Throne of America. He is the Master of Malarkey by the will of the gods, and master of a million votes by the might of his inexhaustible calamari.

Glazius posted:

The advantage to the Flaming Rose, one supposes, is that you can generally reclaim armor and there are a lot more zealots than Witchers. Enough bodies means somebody succeeds by chance, right?

Oh yes, humans in force can absolutely take down monsters and miscellaneous horrors, and with mage support can remove the "weirder poo poo" that Witchers have to deal with periodically. A good number will die, but eh, life is cheap and then the boundaries of "civilization" get to advance. The general problem is that most well equipped troops are used for mundane warfare or politicking...or are merc companies that aren't cheap.

The people at the fringes, the boundaries, the places without a well equipped militia...these are the areas that need Witchers, because their only alternative is for the local guard to get lucky.

# ? Feb 5, 2018 05:11

Aumanor: Nov 9, 2012

Xander77 posted:

I will leave any ranking for when I'm done with the first two books, at the very least. "A Little Sacrifice" is ranked pretty high though. Obviously.

Speaking of, when's the next story summary? I'm waiting for these almost as much as for the updates. And I can't wait to see how they translated the "riddle" cause boy, that is a work of art.

# ? Feb 5, 2018 18:37

Xander77: Apr 6, 2009; Fuck it then. For another pit sandwich and some 'tater salad, I'll post a few more.

Let's Read Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher

Book 1: The Last Wish

Story 6 - The Edge of the World

The Voice of Reason part 5 posted:

Geralt got so angsty in his previous talk with Iola, that the universe spontaneously summoned Dandelion to visit him. Nenneke is not terribly pleased.

quote:
'It's Dandelion this time, your friend. That idler, parasite and good-for-nothing, that priest of art, the bright-shining star of the ballad and love doggerel. As usual he's radiant with fame, puffed up like a pig's bladder and stinking of beer. Do you want to see him?'

'Of course. He's my friend, after all.'

Nenneke, peeved, shrugged her shoulders. 'I can't understand that friendship. He's your absolute opposite.'

'Opposites attract.'

'Obviously. There, he's coming,' she indicated with her head. 'Your great poet.'

'He really is a talented poet, Nenneke. Surely you're not going to claim you've never heard his ballads.'

'I've heard them.' The priestess winced. 'Yes, indeed. Well, I'm not an expert, so maybe the ability to jump from touching lyricism to obscenities in an instant is the very definition of talent. Never mind. Forgive me, but I won't keep you company. I'm not in the mood for either his poetry or his vulgar jokes.'

A peal of laughter and the strumming of a lute resounded in the corridor and there, on the threshold of the library, stood Dandelion in a lilac jerkin with lace cuffs, his hat askew. The troubadour bowed exaggeratedly at the sight of Nenneke, the heron feather pinned to his hat sweeping the floor.

'My deepest respects, venerable mother,' he whined clownishly. 'Praise be the Great Melitele and her priestesses, the springs of virtue and wisdom-'

'Stop playing the fool,' snorted Nenneke. 'And don't call me mother. The very idea that you could be my son fills me with horror.'

She turned on her heel and left, her trailing robe rustling. Dandelion, aping her, sketched a parody bow.

Dandelion (Buttercup in the original Polish, but obviously that is far too girly a name for this paragon of manliness) might look like this:

I'm not much impressed, but pretty much every other fan-artist simply reproduces the in-game portrait (spoiler alert - Dandelion is a character we'll get to meet eventually).

Geralt angsts a bit at Dandelion, but unwilling to confide the true cause of his depression, settles on the old "waah, nobody has work for us Witchers, we're a dying breed, what is even the point of it all?" "Something ends" - a line so great it was reworked into an ongoing theme and a short story title.

quote:
I ride on, and I'm getting hungrier and hungrier. I ask around for work. Certainly it's there, but what work? To catch a rusalka for one man, a nymph for another, a dryad for a third . . . They've gone completely mad - the villages are teeming with girls but they want humanoids. Another asks me to kill a mecopteran and bring him a bone from its hand because, crushed and poured into a soup, it cures impotence-'

'That's rubbish,' interrupted Dandilion. 'I've tried it. It doesn't strengthen anything and it makes the soup taste of old socks. But if people believe it and are inclined to pay-'

'I'm not going to kill mecopterans. Nor any other harmless creatures.'

In any case, Dandelion is there to tell Geralt to stop moping. Yes, the civilized world has less and less need for witchers - they were created centuries ago, in the dark times when monsters were literally as frequent as they are in the games, and a step outside the walls without an armed escort invited certain death. But the witchers have cut a path of destruction through local monster population, often at the cost of their own lives, and now the major kindgoms rarely need a witcher's services. But there are always the far frontiers, which are nit nearly as civilized or safe. Dandelion and Geralt could travel there - or better yet, reminisce about the last time they've done so, when they went to the Edge of the World.

* This is the first story where the geography of the action is actually relevant, so here's a map of the Northern Kingdoms.

I couldn't find a decent sized image that covers the whole thing, so I stole the map in the Witcher 1 artbook (which has a lot of neat stuff I should use). Pretty sure the forums won't allow you to watch them side by side, so if anyone has a better map, feel free to contribute. In any case, Dol Blathanna, the valley of flowers, is on the south-east corner of the map, the border of civilization circumscribed not just by the mountains, but by the elves, who do not encourage human explorers.

* This is the first time the text confirms everything the thread speculated about / assumed based on osmosis from the game re: witchers and civilization. Fewer monsters, and more things regular soldiers / mages can deal with.

* Dandelion is a deconstruction of the comical sidekick archetype, insofar as the characters in-universe are aware that he's a useless gently caress who exists to make "comical" remarks and get everyone into trouble. Figuring out why Geralt tolerates him is one of the keys to figuring out Geralt's personality and self-image in general.

* Sapkowski actually makes some abortive attempts to transform Dandelion from poet to troubadour, which is ostensibly an official title of sorts with certain privileges, but that doesn't actually go anywhere. So I'll freely refer to him as poet / bard / troubadour / twerp, as the mood strikes me.

* I've been forced to actually discuss the framing story, instead of going with the low effort joke of "Dandelion and Geralt could travel there - or better yet, reminisce about the last time they've done so, when they went to the Edge of the World" (end quote for Voice of Reason) "So they do" (Open quote for "The Edge of the World" recap). An attempt at said joke is preserved for posterity regardless.

The Edge of the World posted:

The story proper opens with Geralt and Dandelion negotiating with some stoooooopid peasants.

(Really, Dandelion shouldn't be classically handsome, or even archetypically "roguishly handsome", but he shouldn't be quite this unfortunate looking either. A second-rate comic desperately wishing he was a comedy lead - that's Dandelion)

quote:
The next few minutes passed in a recital of the monsters which plagued the local peasants with their malevolent doings, or their simple existence. Geralt and Dandelion learnt of misguids and mamunes, which prevent an honest peasant from finding his way home in a drunken stupour, of the flying drake which, d'you see, flies around and, just-a-so, drinks milk from cows, of the head on spider's legs which runses abouts in the forest, of hobolds which wear red hats and about a dangerous pike which, d'you hear, tears linen from gossips' hands as they wash it - and just you wait and it'll be at the gossips them-own-selves. They weren't spared hearing that old Nan the Hag flies on a broom at night and performs abortions in the day, that the miller tampers with the flour by mixing it with powdered acorns and that a certain Duda impudently called the royal steward "a thief and scoundrel".

Geralt listened to all this calmly, nodding with feigned interest, and asked a few questions about the roads and layout of the land, after which he rose and nodded to Dandilion.

'Well, take care, my good people,' he said. 'I'll be back soon, then we'll see what can be done.'

They rode away in silence alongside the cottages and fences, accompanied by yapping dogs and screaming children.

'Geralt,' said Dandilion, standing in the stirrups to pick a fine apple from a branch which stretched over the orchard fence, 'all the way you've been complaining about it being harder and harder to find work. Yet from what I just heard, it looks as if you could work here without break until winter. You'd make a penny or two, and I'd have some beautiful subjects for my ballads. So explain why we're riding on.'

'I wouldn't make a penny, Dandelion.'

'Why?'

'Because there wasn't a word of truth in what they said.'

'I beg your pardon?'

'None of the creatures they mentioned exist.'
But why would people who live in a world where monsters are actually quite real invent new monsters to be frightened of?

quote:
People,' Geralt turned his head, like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then they seem less monstrous themselves. When they get blind-drunk, cheat, steal, beat their wives, starve an old woman, when they butcher a trapped fox with their axes or riddle the last existing unicorn with arrows, they like to think that the Bane entering cottages at daybreak is more monstrous than they are. They feel better then. They find it easier to live.
Thanks for that insight, Pan Sapkowski. Really makes you think.

Even if they don't have any business here, the land is fertile and quite beautiful. Just the sort of pastoral diversion needed to find poetic inspiration and a cure for witcher-mopes.

Nettly, a settler from Lower Posada, catches up to the duo and asks them to visit and have a chat about a real work offer. Since they're headed to LP anyways, they agree. Along the way, we get some more botanical observations. Thankfully, neither I nor Pan Sapkowski are actually pastoral poets, so the description doesn't drag on.

The point is made - this is a fertile frontier, and now that the humans have pushed the elves out, they will thrive there. They even still call it Dol Blathanna, the Vale of Flowers, rather than than an elven grave.

Once they get there, elder Dhun asks them to hunt down a deovel.

The deovel is a sapient trickster, sometimes helpful, sometimes mischievous. Recently, he's been up to a lot of mischief, stealing and spoiling crops, and should therefore be chased off - without any permanent harm coming to it, though. Geralt goes out into the fields to confront it, trailed by (the now arbitrarily skeptical) Dandelion. The devil makes its lair in a hemp field, which nullifies Geralt's spells.

In the middle of the field there's a clearing and an altar-stone of sorts, piled with offerings and leftovers. Grain in particular, which is an odd things for a goat-devil to eat. The devil confronts the two, ~~bleating~~ uk-uking threats and demands that they leave. Dandelion can't stop himself from ~~being Dandelion~~ taunting the devil

quote:
'Stop it, drat you,' hissed Geralt. 'Keep your stupid jokes to yourself-'

'Jokes!' roared the goathorn loudly and leapt up. 'Jokes? New jokers have come, have they? They've brought iron balls, have they? I'll give you iron balls, you scoundrels, you. Uk! Uk! Uk! You want to joke, do you? Here are some jokes for you! Here are your balls!'

The creature sprang up and gave a sudden swipe with his hand. Dandelion howled and sat down hard on the path, clasping his forehead. The creature bleated and aimed again. Something whizzed past Geralt's ear.

'Here are your balls!' Brrreee!'

An iron ball, an inch in diameter, thwacked the witcher in the shoulder and the next hit Dandelion in the knee. The poet cursed foully and scrambled away, Geralt running after him as balls whizzed above his head.

'Uk! Uk! ' screamed the goathorn, leaping up and down. 'I'll give you balls! You lousy jokers!'

...

'Well, well, Geralt.' Dandelion held a horseshoe he'd cooled in a bucket to his forehead. 'That's not what I expected. A horned freak with a goatee like a billy-goat, a shaggy moron, and he chased you away like some whelp. And I took this blow. Look at that bump!'

'That's the sixth time you've shown it to me. And it's no more interesting now than it was the first time.'

'Thank you for the sympathy. And I thought I'd be safe with you!'

'I didn't ask you to traipse after me into the hemp, but I did ask you to keep that foul tongue of yours on a leash. You didn't listen, so now you can suffer. In silence, please, because they're just coming.'

Nettly and Dhun walked into the dayroom. Behind them hobbled a grey-haired old woman, twisted as a pretzel, led by a fair-haired and painfully thin teenage girl.

'Honourable Dhun, honourable Nettly,' the witcher began without introduction. 'I asked you, before I left, whether you had already tried to do something with that devil of yours on your own. You told me that you 'hadn't done nothing'. I've grounds to think otherwise. I await your explanation.'

The village has a "great booke", written in Elder Runes. The wise women of the village memorize the contents without being able to read it, and pass on advice on how to deal with various monsters to their apprentices. Dandelion has to make sure the hag can recite some "random" pages (this is the one comic bit of this story that really works for me, so I'll quote it in full:

quote:
The etching showed a dishevelled monstrosity with enormous eyes and utterly ludicrous teeth, riding a horse. In its right hand, the monstrous being wielded a substantial sword, in its left, a bag of money.

'A witchman,' mumbled the woman. 'Called by some a witcher. To summon him is most dangerous, albeit one must; for when against the monster and the vermin there be no aid, the witchman can contrive. But careful one must be-'

'Enough,' muttered Geralt. 'Enough, Grandma. Thank you.'

'No, no,' protested Dandilion with a malicious smile. 'How does it go on? What a greatly interesting book-e! Go on, Granny, go on.'

'Eeee . . . But careful one must be to touch not the witchman, for thus the mange can one acquire. And lasses do from him hide away, for lustful the witchman is above all measure-'

'Absolutely spot on,' laughed the poet, and Lille, so it seemed to Geralt, smiled almost imperceptibly.

'-though the witchman greatly covetous and greedy for gold be,' mumbled the old woman, half-closing her eyes, 'giveth ye not such a one more than: for a drowner, one silver penny or three halves; for a werecat, silver pennies two; for a plumard, silver pennies-'

'Those were the days,' muttered the witcher. 'Thank you, Grandma. And now show us where it speaks of the devil and what the book says about devils. This time 'tis grateful I'd be to heareth more, for to learn the ways and meanes ye did use to deal with him most curious am I.'

'Careful, Geralt,' chuckled Dandilion. 'You're starting to fall into their jargon. It's an infectious mannerism.'

The woman, controlling her shaking hands with difficulty, turned several pages. The witcher and the poet leaned over the table. The etching did, in effect, show the ball-thrower: horned, hairy, betailed and smiling maliciously.

'The deovel,' recited the woman. 'Also called "willower" or "sylvan". For livestock and domestic fowl, a tiresome and great pest is he. Be it your will to chase him from your hamlet, takest thou-'

'Well, well,' murmured Dandilion.

'-takest thou of nuts, one fistful,' continued the woman, running her finger along the parchment. 'Next, takest thou of iron balls a second fistful. Of honey an utricle, of birch tar a second. Of grey soap a firkin; of soft cheese another. There where the deovel dwelleth, goest thou when 'tis night. Commenceth then to eat the nuts. Anon, the deovel who hath great greed, will hasten and ask if they are tasty indeed. Givest to him then the balls of iron-'

'drat you,' murmured Dandilion. 'Pox take-'

'Quiet,' said Geralt. 'Well, Grandma. Go on.'

'. . . having broken his teeth he will be attentive as thou eatest the honey. Of said honey will he himself desire. Givest him of birch tar, then yourself eateth soft cheese. Soon, hearest thou, will the deovel grumbleth and tumbleth, but makest of it as naught. Yet if the deovel desireth soft cheese, givest him soap. For soap the deovel withstandeth not-'

'You got to the soap?' interrupted Geralt with a stony expression turning towards Dhun and Nettly.

'In no way,' groaned Nettly. 'We barely got to the balls. But he gave us the what for once he bit into one'

'And who told you to give him so many?' Dandilion was enraged. 'It stands written in the book, one fistful to take. Yet ye gaveth of balls a sackful! Ye furnished him with ammunition for two years, more the fools ye!'

'Careful,' smiled the witcher. 'You're starting to fall into their jargon. It's infectious.

In any case, the devil has been stealing more and more and demanding levies in grain. The old witch - or rather, Lille - has forbidden the villagers from organizing a mob or otherwise killing the devil. Despite never speaking, Lille is a Wise One - a village witch. The Wise Ones are often persecuted, so they'd rather not share this information with outsiders.

quote:
'Know ye, sir,' said Nettly, 'it be nae only a matter of the deovel. Lille does nae let us harm anything. Any creature.'

'Of course,' Dandilion butted in, 'country prophetesses grow from the same tree as druids. And a druid will go so far as to wish the gadfly sucking his blood to enjoy its meal.'

'Ye hits it on the head,' Nettly faintly smiled. 'Ye hits the nail right on the head. 'Twas the same with us and the wild boars that dug up our vegetable beds. Look out the window: beds as pretty as a picture. We have found a way, Lille doesnae even know. What the eyes do nay see, the heart will nae miss. Understand?'

'I understand,' muttered Geralt. 'And how. But we can't move forward. Lille or no Lille, your devil is a sylvan. An exceptionally rare but intelligent creature. I won't kill him, my code doesn't allow it.'

'If he be intelligent,' said Dhun, 'go speak reason to him.'
The devil is a bit too smug and belligerent to listen to reason at the moment, but Geralt has ways of dealing with failure to communicate.

Reusing the devil's own metal balls against him, Geralt manages to get close enough for a fisticuffs / wrestling match. Goat boy got the mule kicks, but he's not really much of a fighter, and soon tries to run. Geralt chases towards a mounted figure, assuming it to be Dandelion, only to get piled on and knocked the gently caress out.

When he comes to, it turns out they were captured by elves. As ever, they are there to defend the helpless creatures of the forest from Man's deprivations.

Well, not really. They're there to get the food and seeds Thorque (the devil) has been stealing for them. Having been forced to flee to the mountains, they are starving. Their leader has apparently forbidden them from killing anyone before he gets there, but now that Dandelion is awake and whining, Toruviel has the perfect excuse to saunter over and give the two a good kicking.

quote:
Toruviel turned to him with an angry grimace on her cracked lips. 'Musician!' she growled. 'A human, yet a musician! A luten-ist!'

Without a word, she pulled the instrument from the tall elf's hand, forcefully smashed the lute against the pine and threw the remains, tangled in the strings, on Dandilion's chest.

'Play on a cow's horn, you savage, not a lute.'

The poet turned as white as death, his lips quivered. Geralt, feeling cold fury rising up somewhere within him, drew Toruviel's eyes with his own.

'What are you staring at?' hissed the elf, leaning over. 'Filthy ape-man! Do you want me to gouge out those insect eyes of yours?'

Her necklace hung down just above him. The witcher tensed, lunged, and caught the necklace in his teeth, tugging powerfully, curling his legs in and turning on his side.

Toruviel lost her balance and fell on top of him.

Geralt wriggled in the ropes like a fish, crushed the elf beneath him, tossed his head back with such force that the vertebrae in his neck cracked and, with all his might, butted her in the face with his forehead. Toruviel howled and struggled.

They roughly pulled him off her and, tugging at his clothes and hair, lifted him. One of them struck him; he felt rings cut the skin over his cheekbone and the forest danced and swam in front of his eyes. He saw Toruviel lurch to her knees, blood pouring from her nose and mouth. The elf wrenched the dagger from its sheath but gave a sob, hunched over, grasped her face and dropped her head between her knees.

The tall elf in the jacket adorned with colourful feathers took the dagger from her hand and approached the witcher. He smiled as he raised the blade. Geralt saw him through a red haze; blood from his forehead, which he'd cut against Toruviel's teeth, poured into his eye-sockets.

'No!' bleated Torque, running up to the elf and hanging on to his arm. 'Don't kill him! No!'

'Voe'rle, Vanadain,' a sonorous voice suddenly commanded. 'Quess aen? Caelm, evellienn! Galarr!'
Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find a comprehensive translation of all the ~~elven~~ Elder Speech in the books. It's a rough blend of Gaelic, German, Italian and English. The elven leader arrives just in time to... transform a needlessly brutal execution into an orderly and civilized one. They really can't afford to leave any witnesses.

We finally get a really decent back and forth, with the fate of Geralt, Dandelion and (to an extent) the elven race at stake. Good combination of exposition, abstract arguments, and personal revelations.

The gist of it is fairly simple - the land used to gift the elven folk freely, with no need to tear it apart with plows and blades. Now, the world has changed - you can feel it in the water, the air, the sun. Even if they could learn how to reap and sow, the mountains are barren. But the free elves are unwilling to trade or beg or rob from the humans, to be cooped up in ghettos and butchered in pogroms. Geralt might swallow his pride and be willing to live as a despised half-human servant, but they won't. Coexistence is impossible. But isolation is impossible as well - Geralt predicts that once malnutrition and decease starts killing them, the elves will come down from the mountains one way or the other, to meet their end on a human blade. And being so nobly long-lived, they will have a long time to wait for that very inevitable end.

If so, Geralt won't be alive to see it. The bowmen line up. Torque, who wasn't terribly enthusiastic about beating unarmed prisoners, much less anything more lethal, is not very happy.

quote:
The sylvan shook his ears, bleated even louder, stared and bent his elbow in an abusive gesture popular among dwarves.

'You're not going to murder anybody here! Get on your horses and out into the mountains, beyond the passes! Otherwise you'll have to kill me too!'

'Be reasonable,' said the white-haired elf slowly. 'If we let them live, people are going to learn what you're doing. They'll catch you and torture you. You know what they're like, after all.'

'I do,' bleated the sylvan still sheltering Geralt and Dandilion. 'It turns out I know them better than you! And, verily, I don't know who to side with. I regret allying myself with you, Filavandrel!'

'You asked for this,' said the elf coldly, giving a signal to the archers. 'You asked for this, Torque. L'sparellean! Evellienn!'

The elves drew arrows from their quivers. 'Walk away, Torque,' said Geralt, gritting his teeth. 'It's senseless. Stand aside.' The sylvan, without budging from the spot, showed him the dwarves' gesture.

'I can hear . . . music . . .' Dandilion suddenly sobbed.

'It happens,' said the witcher, looking at the arrowheads. 'Don't worry. There's no shame in losing your mind to fear.'

Filavandrel's face changed, screwed up in a strange grimace. The white-haired Seidhe suddenly turned round and gave a shout to the archers. They lowered their weapons.

Lille entered the glade.

No longer a scrawny mute apprentice witch, she's now Dana Meabdh, the Harvest Queen. The elves drop to their knees, and though she still won't say a word, they know her wishes. They want her to follow them into the mountains, but she sends them away, back over the passes. Toruviel and Filavandrel wait long enough to replace Dandelion's lute with one of elven craft, and to extract a promise from Geralt - if they ever do come down from their mountains to seek their deaths, Geralt will be there to meet them.

Torque, Dandelion and Geralt spend an evening by the roadside to say their farewells and to look up Dana in the Great Booke Geralt asked as his reward.

quote:
'"Whence Lyfia treads the earth blossometh and bringeth forth, and abundantly doth each creature breed, such is her might. All nations to her offer sacrifice of harvest in vain hope their field not another's will by Lyfia visited be. Because it is also said that there cometh a day at end when Lyfia will come to settle among that tribe which above all others will rise, but these be mere womenfolk tales. Because, forsooth, the wise do say that Lyfia loveth but one land and that which groweth on it and liveth alike, with no difference, be it the smallest of common apple trees or the most wretched of insects, and all nations are no more to her than that thinnest of trees because, forsooth, they too will be gone and new, different tribes will follow. But Lyfia eternal is, was and ever shall be until the end of time.'"

The Valley of Flowers will be blessed as long as the inhabitants are willing to abide by the terms, and be peaceful.

Torque will find another place to cause mischief in - more calculated mischief, balanced with a helping hand. Dandelion will write a poem about the edge of the world - a pastoral that omits the role of the elves. No need to hasten what is already inevitable.

* Interesting facts about the Russian translations - Dandelion "makes monkey faces" at Nenneke instead of aping her, and Nan the hag steals fruit instead of performing abortions in the Russian translation. Rather seems like someone translated a few figures of speech overtly literally.

* I'm not too fond of this story. The comedy bits just... aren't terribly funny. Maybe because I actually actively looking for reasons to take offense - my general suspicion of "these people speak funny, unlike us who speak all proper" combined with my knowledge of Sapkowski's class issues makes the stupid dung-eating peasants scenes less funny and more cringeworthy (though I suspect they were pretty cringe-y to begin with).

* The transition to the serious / tragic elf portion of the story is actually well done, and avoids a mood whiplash. The story can't really be blamed for ~~Bioware~~ everyone and their grandmother ripping off the "elves in ghettos" shtick over the past three decades. It's a good take on "the time of elves has passed, now the age of man begins" in a way that's less about destiny or magic, and more about biology. I imagine it was quite the shock to anyone reading back in the 90's.

* The Deus Ex Machina is... deistic. I guess it's a better fit for the pastoral tone of the story than the small mound of corpses that show up at the end of "Question of Price" (on that note, THIS is the first witcher story that ends with no casualties. If you don't count Dandelion's poor lute). Wonder how Geralt still plays up his atheism after witnessing a living goddess?

* One way the story doesn't really fit into the witcher "canon" is Wise ones being persecuted even though we have an established cult of Melitele (the priestesses of which fill the same role of village healers / witches / wise women).

* I genuinely hate the whole "superstition in a world where magic and monsters are demonstrably real" trope. It's nearly impossible to get right, no matter which way you approach it - "oh, I arbitrarily believe this particular monster monster can't be realwhoopsitis" and "yeah, we feel the need to make up a lot of bullshit monsters despite real ones existing" are both equally terrible.

I mean, yeah, there are people who will believe in any "Science discovers a cure! [buy the product that sponsors this fluff piece]" headline, and also people who believe any "Western medicine is evil, eat these crystals" scam. But parodying either requires a sure hand, a subtle quill, and more talent than (the decently talented) Sapkowski possesses. (Mind, "people have no idea what mages can actually do, and gossip gets everything wrong" is actually a fairly decent and not-too-blunt metaphor for how the masses understand science. Shame it's relatively underused)

Witcher skills:

* Advanced literacy.

* Throwing his balls at peoples faces with unerring accuracy. (I guess Poland is on the "eggs" side of the eggs/balls divide, so that doesn't even work)

Xander77 fucked around with this message at 20:18 on Apr 22, 2018

# ? Feb 13, 2018 18:57

achtungnight: Oct 5, 2014; I get my fun here. Enjoy!

I�m surprised Geralt didn�t get closer to that goddess. Oh well.

# ? Feb 13, 2018 19:25

Glazius: Jul 22, 2007; Hail all those who are able,
any mouse can,
any mouse will,
but the Guard prevail.; Clapping Larry

Well, I mean. I understand making up bullshit monsters where real ones exist, if the real monsters haven't been around for a while, might as well make up something terrible to scare the kids since the real ones aren't coming back anyway.

# ? Feb 18, 2018 04:19

Frionnel: May 7, 2010; Friends are what make testing worth it.

If anything, monsters existing should make people even more creative. If ghouls and ghosts are real, what's to say *monster i made up* can't be? Who knows what's lurking in the wilderness?

The whole point is that most people don't know much about monsters and magic really. Someone sees a ghoul, then tells their friends, who tell their friends, etc etc and the stories grow more and more ficticious because very few people are qualified to prove them wrong.

Frionnel fucked around with this message at 08:04 on Feb 18, 2018

# ? Feb 18, 2018 08:02

Robindaybird: Aug 21, 2007; Neat. Sweet. Petite.

Given in real life, Rhinos are probably what inspired unicorns, and elephant skulls made the greeks believe in a race of one-eyed giants. Things to explain weird phenomenon, making reasonable but incorrect assumptions ("This big hole is an eye socket", "This corpse's nails are longer so it must still be alive"), or explain exaggerations to make sure someone don't do the thing that causes trouble to the community ("Don't run off with strange men, they might be horny dolphin-demons in disguise") are often what creates legends, it makes sense in a world with real monsters that someone's gonna keep adding on.

# ? Feb 18, 2018 19:05

Polyseme: Sep 6, 2009; GROUCH DIVISION

Robindaybird posted:

("[...] strange men, they might be horny dolphin-demons in disguise")

Solid advice, though.

# ? Feb 18, 2018 19:10

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# ? Apr 24, 2024 16:12

DMorbid: Jan 6, 2011; Hello! I see you.

Oh christ, it's been over a month again? :gonk:

Sorry about that. I've been working like a dog lately and the last few weeks have been a total blur. As a big chunk of my job involves writing poo poo and editing videos, doing LP stuff on top of that hasn't been particularly appealing. That said, I'll try to get an update out this weekend.

# ? Mar 9, 2018 02:02

The Something Awful Forums > Discussion > Video Games > Let's Play! > This is the city (of Vizima), this is the White Wolf -- THE WITCHER [SSLP]

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