CHAPTER I - SIDEQUESTS
Contents
- can'tseeme
- Prologue
- Chapter 1 - Sidequests
[In the lower floor of the tavern, Geralt finds some fistfighters. He talks to the organizer, a man named Sheridan.]
GERALT: What's going on here?
SHERIDAN: A competition, brother! With the port closed, we're bored off our arses. Care to take part?
GERALT: What're the rules?
SHERIDAN: The contenders put their coin down. Winner takes all.
GERALT: The fighting rules.
SHERIDAN: Drop your opponent and make sure he stays down.
GERALT: Complicated...
SHERIDAN: So? Are you fighting, brother?
GERALT: Some other time.
GERALT: Oh, yeah.
SHERIDAN: He's a fresher like you, brother. Good for starters. Put your coin down! So, what'll it be?
GERALT: I'm ready.
SHERIDAN: Gentlemen! Let the dance begin!
SHERIDAN: Your mug looks like a pig's liver, brother. And you lost your coin, but better luck next time.
SHERIDAN: That was fucking poetry! Up for another, brother?
GERALT: Who's up next?
SHERIDAN: Kcorb Ransel, known as Fliparse.
GERALT: Strange name.
SHERIDAN: Does everything backwards. Sleeps in daytime, drinks before he eats, and tells women to get dressed before he ploughs 'em.
GERALT: Fliparse...
SHERIDAN: Show us your orens.
[After Geralt beats Fliparse, a man calls Geralt over.]
ZIGGY: Hey champ!
GERALT: What?
ZIGGY: I can tell you're a serious contender, far too good for this drunken riff-raff. Believe you me, I know what I'm talking about.
GERALT: So? I don't know you.
ZIGGY: They call me King Ziggy. Because I pay like a king. If you want a taste of fame and riches, look for me by the inn in the evenings. I'll take you to the right place.
SHERIDAN: Wouldn't want to get on your bad side. Up for another, brother?
GERALT: Who's up next?
SHERIDAN: I knew you'd end up fighting each other!
GERALT: Who's that?
SHERIDAN: Tidy Tib. The bastard eats honey straight from the hive, drinks for four, and some say he can hang a bucket full of water from his cock. You better get a solid coin pouch ready!
[Geralt beats Tib.]
SHERIDAN: Congratulations! You dropped some of the toughest brawlers! Well done! Tournament's over.
[Geralt meets King Ziggy outside the tavern at night.]
ZIGGY: Who does King Ziggy behold?
ZIGGY: Given any thought to my proposal?
GERALT: Gimme the details.
ZIGGY: Only once you've made your mind up, my friend. For now, you'll have to make do with the lure of fame and coin. Or, you can going on wasting your talents beating the dust out of drunkards around the inns.
ZIGGY: Whaddaya say?
GERALT: I'm ready.
ZIGGY: I'll explain on the way.
GERALT: I've got a crapload to do, Ziggy.
ZIGGY: If you change your mind, you know where to find me.
[Geralt follows Ziggy.]
GERALT: Spit it out.
ZIGGY: Know what Flotsam's famous for?
GERALT: Nothing?
ZIGGY: You're wrong, there. There are only two towns worth visiting in the Pontar Valley. Bondar, famous for having the most beautiful whores in the North, and Flotsam, for having the best fist fighting scene.
GERALT: Who organizes these fights?
ZIGGY: Officially, no one. But look hard, and you'll be surprised what you can find. It's a vibrant scene with winners and losers of all kinds. I promote fighters, place them in tournaments. Singled you out and venture to say you'll not regret that.
ZIGGY: Now, let's go where boys become men and brawlers become champions. The place reeks of blood, but come out standing and you'll sense the sweet smell of orens.
[They come to the gate of Loredo's compound.]
GUARD: Halt!
ZIGGY: Don't recognize King Ziggy?
GUARD: I know you, but who's the other one? He looks dangerous.
ZIGGY: Like all of King Ziggy's fighters.
GUARD: Well that farmhand you brought in last time was carried out all broken in no time.
ZIGGY: This one will be different. You'll see. The Commandant himself will bet a fortune on him.
GUARD: All right, but if I'm to let him in he has to leave all his weapons here.
GERALT: Find another fool, Ziggy.
ZIGGY: Why?! I'm givin' you the greatest chance of your life, and you're the biggest fool in the world if you don't take it.
GERALT: Oh, dear... I'd best go drown my sorrows.
GERALT: Fine.
ZIGGY: You're a rich man already!
GUARD: The weapons will be waiting in the trunk outside the gate.
[They enter the compound.]
GERALT: Loredo...
ZIGGY: In the flesh.
GERALT: Does he condone these fights?
ZIGGY: Condone? He sets them up. A lot of coin at stake here. I haven't been too lucky lately, but I believe you'll change that. People will remember King Ziggy! Just don't disappoint me.
GERALT: Mhm.
[They head into the yard behind Loredo's house and down into an underground bunker where a boxing ring has been set up.]
LOREDO: Ziggy the Clown returns!
ZIGGY: And in grand fashion! I've got a contender who's about to be famous.
LOREDO: The monster slayer?! How'd you talk him into fighting?
ZIGGY: King Ziggy has his ways.
LOREDO: All in all, looks promising...
ZIGGY: We're about to make Flotsam famous for its mug fights! They'll sing songs about Ziggy and Geralt. You just win and I'll take care of the rest. Ready?
GERALT: This isn't my game.
ZIGGY: You promised to fight! What are you - a woman on her lunar cycle? Aww - get outta my sight! The guards'll take you to the gate.
GERALT: Yeah, I'm ready.
ZIGGY: Grand! I'll hear you say my name with reverence yet!
ZIGGY: Twigs'll be your first opponent. So-called because bones snap with his every punch.
GERALT: I love these pussies with cocky names.
[Geralt beats Twigs.]
ZIGGY: Beautiful job rearranging his face!
GERALT: Who's next?
ZIGGY: One–Punch Matho. Name says it all. Downs most opponents with his first punch.
GERALT: I'll see if I can't make him throw a second.
ZIGGY: Good luck!
[Geralt beats Matho.]
ZIGGY: You're the discovery of my lifetime.
GERALT: Think we're made for each other?
ZIGGY: Indeed! But we've a long way to go. Your next opponent is Smugface, also known as Tassledick.
GERALT: Not too popular, then?
ZIGGY: He has tassels on his clothes. Last month he bit his opponent's ear off.
GERALT: Bring on this Tassledick.
[Geralt beats Tassledick.]
ZIGGY: One more and we'll be rich and famous.
GERALT: Who is it?
ZIGGY: Zdenek. In a rumble, it takes at least four lads to take him down.
GERALT: I'll do it single-handed.
ZIGGY: Don't underestimate him.
GERALT: I know him.
ZIGGY: How?
GERALT: I fought him.
ZIGGY: And...?
GERALT: I lost.
ZIGGY: Shit. That's it, then.
GERALT: Not necessarily. I'll give it another shot. We'll see if I was the weakling or he was the strongman.
GERALT: I won.
ZIGGY: Grand! Looks like Zdenek's in for a beating.
GERALT: You never know.
[Before Geralt can fight Zdenek, Loredo calls him over.]
LOREDO: Witcher, come here a minute.
LOREDO: Impressive technique...
GERALT: Thanks.
LOREDO: Last fight's coming up and everyone's betting on the dead cert - you. Except for me.
GERALT: What do you want, Loredo?
LOREDO: Zdenek has to win. But the true winners will be you and me. A third of the jackpot's yours. And that's not an offer.
GERALT: 50/50 split.
LOREDO: Fine - to show you my heart of gold. Just don't fail me.
GERALT: I see. You're a regular con.
LOREDO: Your opinions don't interest me. You're to take a dive. That's that.
GERALT: Piss off, old man.
[Geralt fights Zdenek.]
GERALT: Pay up.
LOREDO: Here's your coin. The guards'll take you to the gate.
LOREDO: You'll regret this.
ZIGGY: I told you we'd win! I've got a real sense for these things.
GERALT: I think you owe me something.
ZIGGY: Why don't we have some fun, first? A free round at every inn, not to mention the girls.
GERALT: You can screw my share.
[Later, a pair of bandits can be encountered in Flotsam, who Geralt must fight off.]
[If Geralt loses any match, Loredo has his guards throw Geralt out of the compound.]
LOREDO: Shit belongs in the gutter.
GUARD: Aye, s-sir!
LOREDO: I appreciate courage. But I appreciate common sense even more.
[After a second, Dandelion shows up.]
DANDELION: Those peasants beat you like a dog...
GERALT: I guess I let them... Wait, h-how would you know?
DANDELION: I like to bet on a good knuckle fight once in a while. How do you feel?
GERALT: As if I just got run over by a cavalry regiment.
DANDELION: Hm, just like me.
GERALT: Did they beat you up, too?
DANDELION: Worse. They've got this small kayran they keep in a glass jar. It predicts fight results. Apparently had a perfect record... until today, that is. It indicated you with one its tentacles, so that's how I bet all my coin.
DANDELION: Geralt!
GERALT: Keep your voice down.
DANDELION: I'm in trouble.
GERALT: Nah, you?
DANDELION: I know you. I've seen you fight. What the hell was that? I mean, even the little kayran they keep here to predict fight results indicated you with its tentacle.
DANDELION: I bet all my orens on you. And you went down as if someone had tied your balls in a knot just before the fight.
GERALT: Balls are something I might be lacking entirely. Let's go have a drink, Dandelion. I'm buying.
[Geralt enters the house where the Blue Stripes are staying.]
FENN: Geralt of Rivia! King of the witchers, the witcher of kings!
THIRTEEN: Come on! Have a drink with us!
GERALT: I wouldn't mind a shot. Celebrating something?
FENN: A great victory.
GERALT: Interesting...
THIRTEEN: We did away with Veyopatis, or whatever the hell they call him.
FENN: Thirteen hacked off his head and nailed it to his arse!
VES: You behaved like swine.
FENN: What? We're not allowed a bit of fun?! It was only a wooden puppet!
VES: Come on, let's play our game.
FENN: Right! Toothpicks!
VES: Knife-throwing. Care to try me?
GERALT: Another time, maybe.
FENN: Oh, hear that? The witcher chickened out!
GERALT: Gladly.
FENN: Ves against the witcher! Place your bets, gentlemen!
FENN: Ten to one on Ves.
[Geralt and Ves engage in a knife-throwing competition, aiming at various items around the room. When they finish, two Flotsam villagers come in.]
VILLAGER 1: There they are! Those are the shitheads who desecrated Veyopatis's statue!
VILLAGER 2: Pitchforks!
FENN: Watch what you say, bumpkin!
ROCHE: What's going on?
FENN: Nothing... We had a little competition.
VILLAGER 1: They threw knives at a statue of Veyopatis! It's blasphemy, our gods desecrated by soldiers!
ROCHE: They're no ordinary soldiers, but Blue Stripes. Know what that means?
VILLAGER 1: Blue or green, it's all the same to me! They're whoresons - all of 'em!
ROCHE: What did you say?
VILLAGER 1: I, uh, I just...
ROCHE: You said what you thought. Good, that's the way! Beer for this brave man. And drink to my health.
ROCHE: Here's to the whore's son, Vernon Roche!
GERALT: Vernon...
ROCHE: You've got shitty glassware in Flotsam! Not fit for a hero, but I've got an idea...
[He kicks the villager to the floor.]
ROCHE: Drink the whoreson's beer from the floor!
VES: Geralt! Do something!
GERALT: This is nothing I want to get involved in. I'm outta here.
GERALT: I'll try.
GERALT: Vernon...
ROCHE: What if I don’t?
[Roche challenges Geralt to a fistfight.]
ROCHE: You don't know shit...
ROCHE: Consider this your lucky day, mongrels. And get out of here!
ROCHE: I have to take a walk...
VES: Enough of that! Stop it!
ROCHE: Ugh. I'm done with him anyway.
GERALT: Get up, Vernon. Didn't mean that to happen.
ROCHE: Leave me alone.
VES: You're too hard on Roche.
GERALT: I don't like sadists.
VES: Vernon was a half-orphan...
GERALT: What does that have to do with it?
VES: He was raised in poverty. His mother turned to whoring to keep them from starving. The other children called him a whore's son. Hasn't been able to handle that insult since.
VES: Come on, let's have a drink.
GERALT: Some other time, maybe.
GERALT: All right.
[Geralt sits down with the Stripes and takes a swig of booze.]
FENN: Remember when we had to wait in that cave for reinforcements...?
THIRTEEN: How could I forget... We ate peat we were so starved!
FENN: Yeah, those were the days.
THIRTEEN: Here's to peat - tart and nutritious!
VES: What do you say to a little competition? A keg of beer to whoever beats Geralt at arm wrestling!
GERALT: And if Geralt wins?
FENN: I'll give you my sword. A true antique, but it's hacked off many a head. They don't make 'em like this any more.
GERALT: All right.
FENN: Me throat's a little dry - pour us a drink someone! Remember when I bet the lieutenant I could plough four elven whores at once? He said we'd sooner cross the sea on the arses of four whores strapped together to make a raft!
FENN: I'd've managed it!
VES: Sure, if only there were that many elf women at the brothel!
VES: Let's begin! We'll see if Thirteen can beat the witcher!
[Geralt arm-wrestles Thirteen.]
VES: Game over, and Thirteen wins the keg of beer.
THIRTEEN: And he's buying!
VES: Thirteen proves too weak for the witcher. Keep practicing there, mate.
THIRTEEN: Plough off, the lot of you...
THIRTEEN: Somebody pour me a drink! Remember when I rode my horse into a tree?
FENN: Can't say I do.
THIRTEEN: Have a shot - it'll refresh your memory.
VES: Gentlemen! Now it's Fenn against the witcher.
THIRTEEN: Gentlemen... To our health! Just like after the battle of Garga... Gargu... Garge...
FENN: Aye, that was a right piss-up... We puked all over the battlefield!
THIRTEEN: To paradise, on whores' arses...
[Geralt arm wrestles Fenn.]
VES: It's game over and Fenn beats the witcher!
FENN: Keg's mine!
VES: Geralt, the prize is yours.
FENN: May it serve you well.
[Geralt passes out and awakes naked on the riverbank.]
VILLAGER: Got drunk as newts, you did. Never seen anything like it in my life.
GERALT: Anything like what?
VILLAGER: Such a sight.
GERALT: Meaning?
VILLAGER: Better you don't remember.
GERALT: But I wanna know.
VILLAGER: I'd tell you for a few orens.
VILLAGER: Not just drunk, but uncouth, too.
VILLAGER: All right, then.
VILLAGER: Talk to the madame. She knows the details.
[Geralt goes to see Margot in the brothel.]
GERALT: Greetings.
MARGOT: What can I get you, fine lad?
GERALT: They say you know what happened here yesterday.
MARGOT: I do. But you'd be better off not askin', darlin'.
GERALT: Talk.
MARGOT: Nothin's for free. Especially in a brothel.
MARGOT: See you again.
MARGOT: Five of you came in, or crawled in, I should say...
GERALT: I was crawling?
MARGOT: Indeed! One of the blue ones ordered five girls. I gave you the best 'cos you showed me good coin.
GERALT: What happened next?
MARGOT: This is the interesting bit, 'cos instead of ploughing them like the normal soldiery, you mounted 'em and told 'em to give you a ride to the port.
GERALT: Can't be...
MARGOT: Ask the lass in the uniform, then.
GERALT: Ves was here, too?
MARGOT: Sure was... She tried to stop you, but you were too much for her...
[Geralt goes to see Ves.]
VES: Hmm?
GERALT: I talked to the madame. Is what she says true?
VES: I tried to talk you out of it, but you insisted you'd cross the river on the whores' arses. You tried for several hours, but it just wasn't going to be.
GERALT: What happened next?
VES: You said you wanted to be one of the Blue Stripes and had to get yourself a tattoo.
GERALT: What tattoo?
VES: One like ours. And you got it.
GERALT: Shit... Where're my things?
VES: You left them all over the place. I gathered them in that trunk by the window.
GERALT: Thanks, Ves.
[Geralt goes to see Triss in the tavern.]
TRISS: I'm glad you're here.
GERALT: Listen... You know how to remove a tattoo?
TRISS: I thought you looked different. Couldn't put my finger on it, though.
GERALT: Hm. Think it looks all right?
TRISS: What's it of? A naked lady brandishing a sword? Geralt...
GERALT: All right. You can stop now.
TRISS: Hey, I didn't give you that tattoo.
TRISS: There's this mixture that cleanses the tissue just beneath your skin... To make it, I'll need green mould, white myrtle petals and wolf's aloe. Ha-ha....
GERALT: Well, I'm off to hunt down some herbs... I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to Dandelion...and you can stop laughing.
TRISS: Ah-huh... No, I can't...
GERALT: I've got the ingredients.
TRISS: Sure you don't want to keep it?
GERALT: Just get rid of it.
GERALT: You know what? I think I will. I mean, not everybody's got a special forces tattoo...
TRISS: That's for sure. Just like not everyone's got all their teeth...
GERALT: Have something against tattoos?
TRISS: I love 'em, especially the kind you get in prison. Those really add character...
GERALT: Very funny.
[This quest can be initiated by either Geralt finding the hospital on his own, or by talking to Cedric.]
GERALT: Greetings.
CEDRIC: Greetings.
GERALT: Nice day.
CEDRIC: The day is awful, like every day in the Pontar Valley. I appreciate your courtesy, witcher, but get to the point if you want something.
GERALT: I need to make a few orens. You wouldn't happen to have a job for a witcher, would you?
CEDRIC: There's never a shortage of work for a witcher in this forest. It's positively teeming with beasts. Though I'm not surprised they come here in droves...
GERALT: Know why that is?
CEDRIC: Cursed places attract all sorts of scum, like dung attracts flies. There was once a great house in the clearing. They locked up lunatics there... During the war with Nilfgaard, it was razed in a fire. The lunatics broiled in their cells. The ruins remain cursed to this day. Two daredevils went off to explore the ruins recently... They haven't been seen since...
GERALT: A great house, you say. Tell me more about the building itself.
CEDRIC: It was an old manor house that was converted into a mental institution. There was no shortage of lunatics in wartime - they just kept coming. Reverend Mircei locked them up in there and looked after them. If you find the two people lost in the ruins of the mental asylum, you stand to be handsomely rewarded. By them... or their families.
GERALT: No harm in trying.
GERALT: Doesn't really sound like a job for me. Thanks.
[Geralt heads south into the forest to find the old asylum. Just before the ruined walls, he runs into a man.]
RUPERT: Some help, finally! I thought I was done for.
GERALT: What's wrong?
RUPERT: I'm fine, but my friend remains in that damned hospital!
GERALT: Cedric told me that two people went missing near the burnt mansion.
RUPERT: I'm Rupert Brandhuber. I'm a medic from Aedirn. I came here with a friend to look for a very rare species of herbs.
GERALT: These woods aren't the best place for herb picking.
RUPERT: So we were warned. But the temptation was too great. We got as far as the site of the fire... no sign of herbs, but... there was something downstairs... something...
RUPERT: What's that? Can you hear it? That's Gridley's dog. Feel that? Something approaches... Help us!
[Nekkers erupt from the ground. Geralt fights them off]
RUPERT: Find my companion, I beg you...
[Deeper in the ruins, Geralt finds the body of Gridley's dog, and goes down the stairs into the asylum. In the first room he sees a specter surrounded by fire, wearing a winged helmet.]
GHOST: They should not have done it! Madder than those here, they were... Oh, the greed...
[Geralt makes his way further into the hospital, fighting wraiths as he goes. He discovers some of the hospital's records, detailing the 'treatment' they gave the patients. Soon he encounters the ghost again.]
GHOST: They needn't have done it... Those here were innocents... And I?
[Geralt continues through the hospital, following the spectre. Other ghosts surround him, some of them malevolent, some of them simply re-enacting their past in the asylum.]
GERALT: Whatever happened here made quite an impression, even on those who were mad.
[He encounters Rupert's partner Gridley huddled in a ball on the floor.]
GRIDLEY: Le–le–leave me be! Away with you!
GERALT: Control yourself.
GRIDLEY: It's not my fault... it wasn't me, not me...!
GERALT: What's not your fault?
GRIDLEY: Fire... Fire everywhere... It wasn't meant to happen! I didn't want that... I swear!
GERALT: Won't get much out of you until I calm you down. Maybe the fire didn't consume everything. Maybe I can find some medicine, a sedative.
[In another room, Geralt finds the medicine he was looking for, as well as a document detailing a patient who claimed to have been abducted by the Wild Hunt. He returns to Gridley and sedates him.]
GRIDLEY: What's going on? Where am I?
GERALT: Easy. Rupert asked me to find you.
GRIDLEY: Rupert... lives?
GERALT: Listen, you and your friend – I don't get it yet, but you aren't telling the truth, that's painfully apparent. This place seems to have a very dark past, one you had a hand in. Do you understand me?
GRIDLEY: Y–yes.
GERALT: Great. So now you can tell me the story, and don't skip a thing.
GRIDLEY: S–story?
GERALT: There's always a story, Gridley. Spit it out.
GRIDLEY: *Sigh* We're former soldiers, fought for Aedirn during one of the wars with Nilfgaard – times long past. I was Rupert's adjutant in the field hospital that our unit set up in this manor house. We didn't at all mind who lived here. In fact, the inmates were friendly... At the outset, that is.
GRIDLEY: One day our scouts captured a Nilfgaardian. He was desperate to win his freedom and claimed he was part of a detachment that had concealed the booty looted in Aedirn. We couldn't believe our fortune, thought the gods had smiled upon us. We'd heard incredible tales of this treasure, questioned any Black One we'd captured. It seemed all our efforts would finally be rewarded. We decided to make him talk.
GERALT: By torturing him?
GRIDLEY: Our commander wanted to break him on the wheel, but Rupert said he knew a better way. There's a local herb - if you brew and drink it, you can only tell the truth.
GRIDLEY: The commander interrogated the prisoner, drawing a map in the process. And we celebrated, talked of how we would divide the treasure, and took ever greater liberties with the patients. The priest looking after them began to protest, and one of our boys... split his head open.
GERALT: Nice, Gridley. Keep talking and I just might let you go alive and intact. What happened next?
GRIDLEY: Once the prisoner revealed where the treasure was hidden, the commander had him quartered in front of the lunatics... They'd shown signs of madness before, but when they smelled blood, well, we could not control them. Many we simply had to cut down... I don't even know how the fire broke out.
GERALT: Any of the patients survive?
GRIDLEY: A young woman we managed to pull from the burning building. She was nice, quiet and... willing. Two nights later she slit our commander's throat and that was all we saw of her, and of the map, of course. The war was ongoing and shifting fronts forced us to abandon our search for her soon after.
GERALT: And here you are, back after many years. Really think you can still find her around here?
GRIDLEY: Life's not treated me well since then, and Rupert's had it even worse. This is our chance to reverse our fortunes. Fate smiled upon us once, perhaps by some strange chance it still holds us in favor?
GERALT: *Sigh* I wouldn't count on that. I think we're dealing with one heavy curse here, and it looks like we need to start by finding that Nilfgaardian's corpse.
[Gridley flees, and Geralt goes after the Nilfgaardian ghost. He finds it kneeling over its own corpse.]
GHOST: A wolf leading wolves...
GERALT: What do you want, specter? Their deaths?
GHOST: Two of twenty return where none remain. Yet one shall judge them. If he is merciful, he will feed them to the dead. If he is cruel, he will grant them what they came for.
GERALT: A prophecy. I should've expected as much.
GHOST: Bring me their hearts, so I may feast on their cowardice... Bring me their eyes, so I may spit in them before they are forever extinguished.
GERALT: Is that your offer? Fine. I'll lift this curse one way or another.
[Geralt goes back to find Gridley.]
GRIDLEY: And...?
GERALT: I met the Nilfgaardian's ghost. Let's find your comrade.
[They return to the surface together.]
RUPERT: Gridley! You live... What happened down there?
GERALT: I found the ghost of the emperor's soldier.
RUPERT: You're the witcher. Get rid of it.
GERALT: I already have. Come on... Let me show you something.
GERALT: The ghost wants revenge. It brought you here, to the scene of the crime. It'll lift the curse in return for you.
RUPERT: By the gods! You'll not help him, will you?
GERALT: The ghost wants your hearts and your eyes...
RUPERT: Gods! You must trick him! Surely you know a way!
GERALT: I could pull the hearts out of some nekkers. Thing is, I'm wondering if it's worth it.
RUPERT: Witcher! I beg you! Do what you must, go see the butcher for some pigs' eyes and hearts. Anything! You'll not send us to a cruel death?
GERALT: Pig hearts? I suppose there'd be some poetic justice in that.
[Gridley and Rupert follow Geralt down into the asylum, where the ghost is waiting.]
GHOST: Who do I see...? Remember me? Corpse-men... Remember how I was torn apart bit by bit? Remember what you did with the people of this house?
RUPERT: You deceived us!
GERALT: Crimes require punishment and only retribution can lift the curse. I leave them to you.
GHOST: I need you no more. Let the feast begin, boys...
[Rupert and Gridley are immolated by the vengeful spirit.]
[Geralt can either loot the nekkers from earlier for hearts and eyes or go to the butcher in Flotsam for pigs' organs.]
BUTCHER: Hungry? I've fresh meat from some piglets I slaughtered yesterday. There's also some beef, and some venison from the elves. You'll not find better meat for miles.
GERALT: I need two pig hearts and two pairs of eyes.
BUTCHER: Wh-what do you need those for?
GERALT: For the needy and hungry.
BUTCHER: Ah, right. Not my concern. Folk say all kinds of things about witchers, but I expect you know that already.
GERALT: Yeah, and most of what they say is true.
BUTCHER: Aye. Two hearts and two pairs of eyes. I needn't know anything more.
[Geralt descends back into the asylum with his eyes and hearts.]
GHOST: You return...
GERALT: With hearts and eyes. And now you'll swear an oath: once I give you what I've brought, you'll release your hold on this place.
GHOST: Not so fast, witcher...
GERALT: I want a pact. I want you to swear on this curse. Then keep your word or your lust for revenge will go unsatisfied forever.
GHOST: I'll trust you... Let shadows withdraw into darkness. Let madness be soothed. Let what has died be buried. Let this place that was cursed be so no more!
GHOST: Now give me what you've brought.
GHOST: Fool who knows not that the dead cannot be deceived. You sought to rob me of my revenge, dog! You shall share the fate of those thieves!
[The ghost attacks. Geralt defeats it, and returns to Rupert and Gridley.]
GERALT: I destroyed the Nilfgaardian soldier's ghost.
RUPERT: Thank you, witcher!
GERALT: The ruins are safe, now get out of my sight.
RUPERT: But...
GERALT: Leave before I change my mind.
GERALT: I've lifted the curse, but the perpetrators must be punished.
RUPERT: What are you going to do?
GERALT: I'll take you to Loredo. Let him pass judgment.
RUPERT: No, not him! Just not him! We'll not go anywhere!
GERALT: Shut up.
[If Geralt chooses to have them punished, he takes them to Loredo's compound.]
GUARD: Halt! Who you got there?
GERALT: Murderers. Loredo needs to judge them.
GUARD: Get out of here. Look at him acting like a constable.
[Loredo's mother emerges from the compound suddenly.]
MARIETTA: Guests? How nice. Bring 'em to me. We shall talk about the good old days...
MARIETTA: Ha, ha, ha!
[Near the boatbuilders in Lobinden, Geralt comes across an elf woman surrounded by Loredo's guards.]
GUARD: You'll betray no one else, elven bitch!
MALENA: I don't know what you're talking about.
GUARD: Commandant Loredo will explain everything.
MALENA: You've no right!
[Geralt interrupts.]
GERALT: What's going on here?
GUARD 1: This whore's a Scoia'tael spy!
GERALT: Any evidence?
GUARD 1: What's it to you?
GUARD 2: Easy. She loiters around the garrison, coquetting us. Rodrig says he boned her, but I don't believe that.
GUARD 3: I did!
GERALT: That's your evidence?
GUARD 2: Two of our lads are missing. Last seen with her.
MALENA: I only spoke to them. Then they went off towards the caves. That's all I know.
GUARD 3: The bitch is lying! She led them into an ambush!
GERALT: This oughta be easy enough to resolve. Look inside the caves.
GUARD 2: But they're crawling with all sorts of filth.
GERALT: Do what you will. This is none of my business.
GUARD 2: We'll take her to Loredo. He'll get the truth out of her.
GERALT: I'll do it. But you'll pay me. Wait for me at the harbor.
[The guards walk off with Malena towards the harbor. Geralt meets them there at the entrance to a cave.]
GUARD 1: We'll wait out here.
GUARD 2: Make it quick.
[At the entrance to the cave is a blood smear.]
GERALT: A lot of blood... And I'm about to find out who it belonged to.
[Inside the cave are dozens of nekkers, more blood smears, and a body near the entrance.]
GERALT: Someone dragged this body here...
[At the end of the cave are two guards with arrows sticking out of them.]
GERALT: Scoia'tael arrows... This is pretty clear...
[Geralt returns to Malena and Loredo's men.]
GUARD 1: Find anything in there?
GERALT: Two soldiers.
GUARD 1: What happened to 'em?
GERALT: They're dead. Half-eaten, too.
GUARD 1: You sure?
GERALT: Their bodies are shredded like mincemeat...
GUARD 2: Uh, any idea what happened...?
GERALT: Seems something lured your patrol to the cave. Unfortunately, the soldiers weren't prepared for what they found and paid for that. Just like you can pay me now.
GUARD 2: Sure, sure... You've earned it.
GERALT: They're dead. Riddled with arrows.
MALENA: I know nothing about that.
GUARD 1: What do you think, witcher?
GERALT: Seems like two soldiers wandered into the cave - maybe to drive away monsters, but just because somebody convinced them to go. I don't know how many monsters they managed to kill, but I do know who got them. Scoia'tael.
MALENA: Bollocks!
GERALT: Last I recall, nekkers don't know how to use bows.
GUARD 1: Hey, lads...! Let's find a tree!
MALENA: No! I'll tell you everything - just don't kill me, please!
GERALT: Speak.
MALENA: You need to see this. You won't understand otherwise.
GUARD 2: See ploughing what?
GUARD 1: The bitch is lying.
GERALT: Give it up, elf.
GUARD 1: Let's take her to the Commandant.
MALENA: Loredo will torture me. I hope my screams wake you every night, vatt'ghern!
GUARD 1: Shut it! Thanks, witcher - you've earned your reward.
GERALT: We'll see. You lead.
[Malena leads them to the place where Geralt, Triss, and Roche were ambused by Iorveth when they entered Flotsam, and a Scoia'tael band attacks.]
GUARD: It's an ambush! To arms!
MALENA: Death awaits you all! Curse you, dh'oine!
GUARD: They all died - because of you.
GERALT: Me...?
GUARD: You believed that bitch, which makes you dumber than Dmitri, I think. Now, take your coin for killing the monsters and beat it. We're taking you to Loredo, hag!
GUARD 1: Bloody Squirrels. Thanks for the help, witcher. Here's your orens. You're coming with us, bitch!
GUARD 2: You shouldn't've left Dmitri, stupid whore.
MALENA: Death awaits you all! Curse you, dh'oine!
[The guards leave, and Malena thanks him afterwards.]
MALENA: You saved me, witcher. Humans don't usually side with elves.
GERALT: I'm not your ordinary human.
MALENA: That's true. Any chance I could learn just how unusual you are...?
GERALT: What do you have in mind?
MALENA: You'll see. You'll find me in the forest, by the waterfall. Just remember, I won't wait forever.
GERALT: The forest is dangerous, you can't go alone.
MALENA: We elves have our paths. Don't worry about me.
[Geralt goes to meet Malena by the waterfall.]
MALENA: I'm glad you came.
GERALT: Me, too.
MALENA: But you see... There is one problem.
GERALT: Let me hear it.
MALENA: I really did lure those two guards into a trap.
GERALT: I know. I found the arrows.
MALENA: Exactly - you know too much. And only corpses keep their secrets...
[A Scoia'tael party ambushes Geralt.]
ELF WOMAN: Look what the werecat dragged in.
MALENA: He knows too much! You must kill him!
ELF WOMAN: Oh, Malena, Malena. I'm afraid you're unaware of recent occurrences. And there's nothing worse than a misinformed and reckless spy. I'm no longer surprised that Dmitri abandoned you.
MALENA: He knows!
ELF WOMAN: Much has changed, darling. The witcher's an ally now, and it's poor manners to threaten allies. You must lift the insult, so plough him - that's about all you do well.
MALENA: You whore! I'll...
ELF MAN: That's enough! Leave, witcher. Ask no questions. I believe all is apparent anyway.
GERALT: What about Malena?
ELF MAN: She will come with us.
GERALT: What'll you do with her?
ELF MAN: No questions. It's not your concern. And I apologize for this misunderstanding.
[If Geralt hasn't sided with Iorveth, he fights off the Scoia'tael as Malena runs off into the forest. After Geralt defeats his attackers, he goes to look for her. He finds her hiding in the ruins of the old asylum.]
MALENA: Mercy...
GERALT: You deserve to die.
[Geralt kills Malena.]
GERALT: I'm taking you to Loredo. You'll be judged there.
[Geralt takes Malena to the guards.]
GUARD: What are you doing here with that elven slut?
GERALT: You were right. She's a Scoia'tael spy and lured your men into an ambush.
GUARD: Ah-ha! Get her over here. She'll confess everything by the time we're done with her!
MALENA: I hate you! Curse you, dh'oine!
GERALT: Away with you. Don't let me see you again.
MALENA: Thanks... You won't...
[Malena flees into the forest.]
[Geralt goes to see the herbalist Anezka in Lobinden.]
GERALT: My medallion vibrates when you're nearby. And it only vibrates near magic or danger.
ANEZKA: Maybe it's warning you not to make a pass at me lest I slap you?
GERALT: You're right, I should watch what I do.
ANEZKA: Listen carefully. People may say I'm a witch, but I don't deal in spells. You don't look like someone who'd come for a charm or a curse, so you either seek out sensations or hunt witches. Whichever the case...
GERALT: I'm not about to denounce you, nor do I want to see you dancing naked in the moonlight before Veyopatis's shrine.
ANEZKA: How dare you?
GERALT: I want to buy some herbs.
ANEZKA: Herbs?
GERALT: For personal use.
GERALT: What do you know about protective amulets?
ANEZKA: I'm no sorceress, but I know a bit about magic. Why do you ask?
GERALT: Take a look at this one. I have reason to believe there's something not quite right about it...
ANEZKA: Hmmm.... I'd say there's magic in it without a doubt. I'd gladly buy it from you.
GERALT: Pay me enough and...
ANEZKA: I can give you 50 orens.
GERALT: That's nowhere near enough.
ANEZKA: All right... Let's say a hundred.
GERALT: Why do you want the talisman?
ANEZKA: Why do you?
GERALT: Let's say it's got sentimental value for me.
ANEZKA: Let's say I see it as a collector's item. I'll give you two hundred orens and that's my final offer.
GERALT: If you have the coin, the talisman's yours.
ANEZKA: 200 orens - there you are.
GERALT: What's it worth to you?
ANEZKA: 200 orens.
GERALT: I'm not selling the talisman.
GERALT: Why do you care about the amulet so much?
ANEZKA: I collect antiques. They may be useless to others, but I see value in them.
GERALT: I don't believe you. You want to buy a piece of metal just because it's old?
ANEZKA: I don't have to explain myself to you.
GERALT: I get the feeling you know a lot more about this trinket than you're letting on.
ANEZKA: Maybe I do, maybe I don't. If I say only so much, I must have my reasons.
GERALT: I'm a witcher. You don't want to lose a customer like me.
GERALT: If you say so.
GERALT: Let's get down to it then.
ANEZKA: This isn't any old talisman. I'm almost certain it's Melitele's Heart. It's a very powerful artifact. At least, it used to be.
GERALT: It isn't any more?
ANEZKA: It was cursed and the spell distorted its effect. It once protected those who wore it, now it brings misery upon them.
GERALT: Why do you want to buy it from me, then?
ANEZKA: I know a ritual that can restore its original power. Unfortunately, the necessary ingredients are extremely rare.
GERALT: What do you need?
ANEZKA: Essence of death, a troll's tongue, the eyes of an arachas and an endrega's fetus.
GERALT: I might be able to get you those.
GERALT: I want to know everything there is to know about this ritual.
ANEZKA: Ask away.
GERALT: Tell me more about Melitele's Heart.
ANEZKA: They say the talisman was made at the time of the Conjunction of Spheres. It gave those who wore it supernatural powers. Some didn't like that. The talisman was cursed by a dark force and lost its former power.
GERALT: Can you conduct the ritual?
ANEZKA: You must find all the ingredients first.
GERALT: All right, I get it.
ANEZKA: I see you have all the ingredients. If you make up your mind, come to the statue of Veyopatis at midnight.
GERALT: All right. I'll be there.
[Geralt meets Anezka by the statue of Veyopatis after sundown.]
ANEZKA: Here at last.
GERALT: I don't know many brave enough to venture into this forest, especially at night.
ANEZKA: I do not fear the Squirrels and I have my methods for the monsters.
GERALT: Interesting.
ANEZKA: This place is full of mysteries that even witchers can't imagine.
GERALT: You're the main mystery right now. Why do you need me? I don't know the ritual.
ANEZKA: You'll find out once I begin performing it.
ANEZKA: Are you ready?
GERALT: I changed my mind.
GERALT: Let's begin.
ANEZKA: Prepare, witcher. And now, watch this.
[Anezka begins the ritual, and wraiths begin appearing.]
ANEZKA: You must fight them. I need time to finish the ritual!
ANEZKA: I've done it!
GERALT: Did you succeed?
ANEZKA: I'm afraid not... Melitele's Heart will bring ill luck to those who come to possess it.
GERALT: Did you manage?
ANEZKA: Melitele's Heart has regained its former power. I can feel it...
GERALT: I never thought you could conduct rituals of that sort.
ANEZKA: Did you take me for a village witch who puts bread and cobwebs on wounds?
GERALT: What you did is closer to sorcery.
ANEZKA: Sorceresses, with all their learned books and schools of magic! What do they know?
ANEZKA: Magic, witcher, is the heart beating fast or the smell of wet, rotting wood. It upsets the underbelly and makes you weep and cry... It's the scythe that misses a field mouse nest, it's people coupling under the new moon till it hurts, it's blood spilled and sweet milk flowing. That is magic. I've experienced all that and seen everything. I can control it. I wouldn't trade places with any sorceress.
GERALT: I don't know if I understand you, but I sure admire you.
ANEZKA: Take this talisman as a memento of our meeting.
GERALT: But you really wanted it.
ANEZKA: You helped me lift the curse from it and asked nothing in return. Generosity is a rare virtue. Melitele's Heart can once again bring luck - I think you will get more out of it than I will.
GERALT: Thank you.
ANEZKA: Come to me if you need anything. Better the devil you know...
[Geralt examines the shipwreck of the Petra Silie near the kayran's old lair and finds the body of the ship's captain, as well as his log and a sealed report marked "Deliver via the Royal Mail". The Captain's log details an expedition funded by King Foltest for valuable artifacts, which the ship's mage attempted to steal by starting a mutiny.]
GERALT: I suppose I could forward this, but where the hell in Flotsam will I find a drop box for the Royal Post?
[Geralt finds a dropbox for the Royal Post. The letter can be mailed in Loredo's house, or in Ludwig Merse's office, where there is associated dialogue.]
MERSE: Greetings, witcher. What brings you here?
GERALT: On your desk - is that a drop box for the Royal Post?
MERSE: Yes, I am the local Royal Postmaster - one of my many responsibilities.
GERALT: Would you mind if I looked inside?
GERALT: What do you do?
MERSE: I'm the royal castellan. I look after Flotsam's provisions, fortifications and so forth.
GERALT: So if I exterminate a monster, I need to see you about the reward?
MERSE: Indeed. You could start by filling in form H-12 and taking it to...
GERALT: I don't need to. I've got immunity.
MERSE: Ah. Well, you'll find the notice board out in front of the inn. And good hunting to you.
GERALT: So long.
[Inside the post box Geralt finds an entirely fabricated report to the Temerian Special Forces suggesting that there is no crime in Flotsam.]
[This quest can be continued in chapters II and III (either path), where Geralt finds the wrecks of two more ships, discovers notes explaining the ships' fates, and is rewarded with the discovery of powerful armor diagrams. However, there is no further associated dialogue.]
[Geralt finds a man behind the tavern on the lower level of the docks.]
VENCEL PUGG: Psst, white-haired one... I have an offer for you.
PUGG: Greetings, white-haired one. I could do with your help. You see, I'm looking for a certain formula.
GERALT: I'm no herbalist.
PUGG: I know who you are. I'll be straight... Find the formula and you'll earn a sizeable pouch of orens.
GERALT: I don't have time to help you.
PUGG: The formula is in the hands of a certain shopkeeper.
GERALT: Can't go and see him yourself?
PUGG: He deals in incense. One type is particularly... popular. I think what he sells is harmful, yet I need the formula to prove it. The scoundrel knows that and is very cautious. Yet I assume you, as a witcher, have your ways...
GERALT: I'll see what I can do.
[In Flotsam's town square, Geralt meets an old woman.]
MATILDA: Are you a witcher?
GERALT: I am.
MATILDA: You've got to do something about that filthy business. The crook selling the poison is going unpunished!
GERALT: I think he's just selling incense.
MATILDA: Incense is only a cover. People get addicted to it, lose their senses... it's like fisstech.
MATILDA: You must shut down that shop. Close the shop, and the citizens of Flotsam will reward you handsomely.
GERALT: I'll talk to the trader.
MATILDA: You haven't closed the shop. People continue to get addicted to that rubbish because of you.
GERALT: No one's forcing them to buy incense.
MATILDA: You'd not say that if your own were sniffing it. Get out of here!
[Geralt goes to check on the shopkeeper - the same shopkeeper Pugg wanted him to investigate.]
VINCENT BARTOK: Welcome to my modest shop.
GERALT: I need one of your incense formulae.
BARTOK: I've got more than 200 here.
GERALT: I'm interested in the bestseller.
GERALT: Someone's offering a handsome price for that formula. They say it's harmful.
BARTOK: Impossible! I haven't had a single complaint. And I'll not give the formula to anyone. How about this...? I give you a formula for a similar scent. You get your reward and I keep my secret.
GERALT: Agreed.
BARTOK: Wait a second... There you go.
GERALT: If I don't get the real formula by the count of five, you'll be greeting one of the two friends I carry on my back. One.. Two...
GERALT: Three...
BARTOK: All right! Wait! I'll give it to you! Here. Happy?
GERALT: What do you deal in?
BARTOK: All kinds of incense, mainly. For meditation... rejuvenation... cooking, making medicine, rituals... Whatever you require.
GERALT: They say one of your scents is a strong drug.
BARTOK: A drug? Here? Never heard such nonsense!
GERALT: A lady told me it works just like fisstech.
BARTOK: Perhaps everything works like fisstech on that lady.
GERALT: I get it.
GERALT: I know there's something unusual about it.
GERALT: Maybe Loredo needs to learn about your incense.
[Continues the same as AXII success]
GERALT: Why is this incense so popular all of a sudden? Don't tell me it’s the scent.
BARTOK: But it is! It took me a long time to devise it, and the ingredients cost me a fortune. That's why it's so good.
GERALT: You sound honest enough.
GERALT: You've lived with these people since childhood. Why would you want to poison them?
GERALT: Loredo and I will see you tomorrow.
BARTOK: All right, then! I'll close the shop. But don't tell anyone, I beg you.
GERALT: Before you close up, why don't you give me the formula for that incense.
[Geralt goes to tell Matilda the shop is closed.]
MATILDA: I see you've done it! Thank you, on behalf of all Flotsam. Here's your reward.
[Geralt returns to Vencel Pugg.]
PUGG: How did it go? Did you get the formula?
GERALT: I'm working on it...
GERALT: I did. But I'm not gonna give it to you.
PUGG: We'll meet again, smartarse.
[Pugg and his men later ambush Geralt in the forest.]
GERALT: I have it.
PUGG: Show me.
GERALT: Here it is.
PUGG: Grand. I must check its authenticity in the lab before I can give you your coin. I'm a cautious man, forgive me.
GERALT: I'm cautious, too. Give me back the formula.
PUGG: All right, we'll go together. I'll wait for you by the gate, at the market side.
[Geralt meets Pugg outside Flotsam's gates.]
PUGG: Ready? As I said, I'm cautious. My lab is well-hidden and I want to keep it that way, so I'll... have to blindfold you.
GERALT: All right, but no tricks. One false move and you'll never open your secret door again.
PUGG: I'm not mad enough to mess with you. Grab hold of my arm.
GERALT: You never mentioned a blindfold. I like to know where I'm going.
PUGG: Forgive me, but secrecy is essential to me. If you can't agree, it's all off.
GERALT: I'm cautious, too. Only time I ever agree to be blindfolded is when I'm with a naked sorceress. Farewell.
PUGG: Wait... You’re a tough nut, but have it your way. I'll mark the lab on your map and expect to see you there.
PUGG: My workshop is very near...
PUGG: Almost there...
PUGG: Now, Porky!
[Geralt wakes up in a cell inside a cave.]
PUGG: Sincere apologies, again. I know you could slice me up like a juicy side of beef if you wanted to. I had to protect myself.
[Geralt makes his way to Pugg's workshop.]
PUGG: Welcome to my humble abode.
PUGG: I'll ask you to be patient while my men check the formula. You've no idea how hard it is to find qualified specialists these days. In Bleinheim's day I worked with only the best alchemists.
GERALT: Bleinheim? I'm under the impression I know the name. Somebody from Flotsam?
PUGG: No, Vizima. Long ago. I need a moment – the results are ready.
PUGG: A fake after all. You should not have tried to deceive me.
GERALT: I actually felt a bit guilty, but then you flapped your tongue one too many times, revealed your allegiance to Salamandra.
PUGG: In that case, you'll need to stay here.
[Geralt breaks through the cell wall with Aard and fights the Salamandra thugs.]
PUGG: Not good, witcher. Trying to cheat me? I'm afraid that carries a severe penalty.
GERALT: Salamandra stragglers in Flotsam. Who would've thunk. Leave your weapons and come with me.
PUGG: Who are you trying to fool? Tend to this scum, boys!
[Geralt fights the Salamandra thugs.]
PUGG: Grand, legal fisstech! Oh, this will be a big fat vein of gold...
GERALT: The truth will out. Besides, I have a low tolerance for lying.
PUGG: Don't you threaten me. Take your earnings, fair and as agreed - and no tricks! Forgive me, I was not sure if I could trust you. Here's your reward - you fully deserve it.
PUGG: My men will see you off. Please let them cover your eyes again. I hope to do more business with you sometime.
GERALT: One false move and you'll be looking for new workers.
GERALT: I'd probably agree, if I didn't remember that Bleinheim was one of Salamandra's commanders.
PUGG: In that case, you'll need to stay here.
[Geralt fights the Salamandra thugs.]
[If Geralt kills the thugs, a hidden sailboat allows him to return to Flotsam.]
[Geralt picks up the note on the notice board about a problem troll and heads out to find its lair. On the way, he encounters a man being attacked by nekkers, and intervenes to save him.]
MAN: Thank you, master...
MAN: Drives me mad. This cursed wood is full of scum and that whoreson has lost his mind!
GERALT: Who might that be?
MAN: The troll. For years he's been collecting tolls at the bridge, for which he's to keep the bridge tidy and drive away the scum.
GERALT: What's the problem, then?
MAN: Merchants from the port sent me to find out the what and why, seeing as this is the only path out of the port inland. But I found the bridge in ruins and that cheeky cocksucker asked for liquor to let me pass. "Across that pile of rubble?" I says, and he smacks me so hard I see stars!
GERALT: Loredo's put a price on his head.
MAN: If Loredo had his way, he'd cut us off from the world, that son of a bitch.
MAN: We need a bridge, but a working one! And we need a troll, but a sober one!
MAN: If you're looking to make some coin, hold off on killing the troll and see the village chief instead. He'll tell you all you need to know.
[Geralt goes to see the village chief in Lobinden.]
GERALT: Any work for a witcher?
CHORAB: Enough work for three, but what of it? We're poor folk.
GERALT: I'm sure we can work something out.
CHORAB: Ye best go to Flotsam town square, near the inn. There are notices on the board there. Just leave the troll be, please, no matter what the townsfolk say.
GERALT: You got a troll here?
CHORAB: Aye, he trolls in the forest, by the river. But he's a good fellow, don't you dare harm him.
GERALT: One of the helpful ones. I see.
CHORAB: Does more good than Loredo, and drinks a lot less at that. Repairs the bridge and causes no mischief. Don't take your blades to him, please.
CHORAB: Go seek the Old Man. Loredo splurged on a sorceress, so he's clearly got means in the budget.
GERALT: What sorceress? You mean Triss Merigold?
CHORAB: Lady Síle de Tansarville, a significant person, but poor as a temple mouse, just like ye. Seems spellcraft and wealth don't go hand in hand. They say she's agreed to kill the Old Man, so hurry if ye want to jump in before her.
GERALT: You mean the kayran?
CHORAB: Call him whatever ye like. I mean the river beast. He troubled our great-grandfathers already. But he's become unbearable recently, tearing through nets, choking fish with venom.
CHORAB: Even Loredo says that since the local economy be harmed, there be no choice but to hire a sorceress.
CHORAB: Ye killed the kayran. Not enough for you? Truth be told, ye won't find better work around here.
GERALT: I heard you don't want to get rid of the troll.
CHORAB: Who'll maintain the bridge when he's gone?
GERALT: Hire some people.
CHORAB: Know the cost of a craftsman these days? That idiot troll looks after the bridge for petty tolls, more or less.
GERALT: The bridge is in ruins and the troll's robbing people.
CHORAB: Aye... It's because he's hit the bottle.
GERALT: If you could help him stop boozing...
GERALT: I'm a witcher, not a nanny.
CHORAB: I'll pay you well.
GERALT: How much?
CHORAB: A hundred orens.
GERALT: Two hundred.
CHORAB: You're costly, but what the hell. Let 'em see I place the village's welfare above all else.
[Geralt checks in with Ludwig Merse about the contract.]
GERALT: Any idea why Loredo put a price on the troll's head?
MERSE: Commandant Loredo has Flotsam's welfare in mind.
GERALT: Mhm, but the troll tends to the bridge, keeps it in repair.
MERSE: Not likely. To start with, that's a dangerous beast. In addition, he pays no taxes on the tolls he collects.
[Geralt goes back to the troll's lair to see what's up.]
TROLL: No.
GERALT: No what?
TROLL: No passage. Give vodka, you passage.
GERALT: Do I look like an innkeeper to you?
TROLL: No vodka, no passage.
GERALT: Why should I pay you?
TROLL: My bridge.
GERALT: This is a pile of rubble, not a bridge. You're getting nothing from me.
TROLL: Ah, from me, you get in mug.
[The troll attacks Geralt. Geralt retaliates.]
TROLL: Enough. Don't hit. I be good.
GERALT: You're drunk.
TROLL: Vodka good. Head hurt, aye. But no pain in brain.
GERALT: Brain pain always comes with a reason.
TROLL: They kill my woman. She good. She cooked meat.
GERALT: Who killed her?
TROLL: Dunno. Me sit on bridge. Go home. No meat smell. Woman dead. Had no head. Gotsta drink. Inn can't go - people'd kill. But gotsta drink.
GERALT: You're welcome to take liquor instead of coin, but you should repair the bridge.
TROLL: Cannot. Hands shaky.
[Continues same as "I'll find the murderers"]
GERALT: If I find your woman's murderers, will you put aside the booze?
TROLL: You no find none.
GERALT: We'll see. I've got friends here. I'll talk to them.
GERALT: You'll be even better when I'm through with you.
[Geralt slays the troll.]
[If Geralt kills the troll, he can collect a reward from Merse.]
GERALT: I killed the troll.
MERSE: The Commandant will be delighted. Your reward...
GERALT: Not exactly a fortune.
MERSE: You chose a poorly paid profession, witcher.
[If Geralt spares the troll, he can ask around for information, starting with Síle.]
GERALT: Alchemists use troll tissue in their research, don't they?
SÍLE: Troll eyes and tendons are potent ingredients, useful in many potions. White Raffard experimented with their blood, claiming it had regenerative properties. He was wrong, of course.
GERALT: Is there any reason an alchemist would want a troll's whole head?
SÍLE: I don't think so. Unless he wanted a trophy.
[Geralt goes to talk to Zoltan.]
ZOLTAN: Sit down, Geralt, you old goat! Drinking alone is as bad as shitting in company.
GERALT: Another time, maybe. You've been here a while and probably know the local customs.
ZOLTAN: I'm no researcher, but go on, ask away.
GERALT: Who would need a troll's head?
ZOLTAN: Same folks who need a bear's head - to hang on the wall, show how plucky they are. A peasant with a troll's head on his wall can raise many skirts.
GERALT: Thanks.
ZOLTAN: Where you off to?
GERALT: Sightseeing, 'round the houses of Lobinden.
[Geralt heads to Sendler the leatherworker's house. On the wall hangs the head of a troll.]
GERALT: A female troll's head...
GERALT: Where'd you get that head?
SENDLER: I bought it. Cost me a fortune, but it was worth it. No one else in Lobinden's got a troll's head.
GERALT: Who'd you buy it from?
SENDLER: Dmitri. Who else would dare trap a troll in its very own den?
GERALT: Where can I find this Dmitri?
SENDLER: That I don't know, but you'll find his mates carousing at the inn in the evening.
GERALT: Thanks. That was helpful.
GERALT: I'd like to buy that head from you.
SENDLER: No way! The head's mine, you smelly swine!
GERALT: I'll give you a good price, unless you'd prefer to trade.
SENDLER: Hm... We could roll some dice for it... Provided you make it worth my while.
[Geralt wins the she-troll's head in a game of dice poker. He goes to look for Dmitri's man at the tavern.]
GERALT: Do you work for Dmitri?
BANDIT: Who's asking? 'Cause you see, friend, I'm startin' to find this a might confusing. You here at the biddin' of that old rag, the fisstech boys, or Loredo? And be straight with me!
GERALT: I heard you hunted down a troll.
BANDIT: None of your ploughing business.
BANDIT: Try it!
BANDIT: Who hasn't? They say he can gut a man with a single cut.
GERALT: Yeah, I can. And if you don't tell me where I can find Dmitri, I'll splash your guts on the walls.
BANDIT: Steady...
GERALT: Start talking.
BANDIT: Dmitri hangs around the cemetery near that stinking village.
GERALT: See? You can be nice. All you need to do is try.
BANDIT: I'll tell you everything...
GERALT: I'm all ears.
BANDIT: Dmitri's at the cemetery near Lobinden.
[Geralt heads to the cemetery. Three bandits are standing around the corpses of an elf and Thaler's agent.]
BANDIT: Loredo'll know that's no Squirrel, but an ordinary elf.
DIMITRI: He won't know shit. Ears pointy? Check. We'll dress the corpse in green and collect an even hundred.
BANDIT: Heard Malena makes more than that. I guess robbing the soldiery's better business than robbing elves.
DIMITRI: I'll not hear of that whore again, got it?! Treacherous rag. She'll get what she deserves, won't be long now.
BANDIT: Couldn't satisfy her, eh? Can't fault the girl for being ambitious. And the stiff on the ground is who?
DIMITRI: Some spy from Vizima, soon to be our Squirrel's grave mate. Loredo told me to get rid of him, and since we've got this vacancy in the boneyard, thought I might do our friend a small favor.
BANDIT: He don’t look like no spy.
DIMITRI: They never do once they're dead. Ah, almost forgot – might pay to search him good and thorough before we plant him in the dirt.
GERALT: You Dmitri?
DIMITRI: Why the fuck d'you want to know?
GERALT: The troll sends his regards.
DIMITRI: Kill him! No witnesses!
[Geralt kills the bandits and heads back to the troll.]
TROLL: Give vodka, dwarf.
GERALT: You drink too much. Your eyesight's shit.
TROLL: Why back?
GERALT: You're imagining things, troll. There's no one here.
GERALT: I found your wife's head.
TROLL: My woman...
TROLL: I not forget. I give reward.
TROLL: But drink will till you give me killman's head.
GERALT: I punished your wife's murderers.
TROLL: Mine...?!
GERALT: You'll find what's left of them at the cemetery.
TROLL: I find!
GERALT: Will you fix the bridge?
TROLL: Trolls true!
GERALT: Make sure your hands are steady when you do it.
TROLL: No drink more. Head in peace.
[Geralt goes to get his reward from Chorab.]
GERALT: You owe me 200 orens.
CHORAB: You'll get 100.
GERALT: Thief...
CHORAB: Here's two hundred orens and shove it up your arse!
GERALT: Listen, I made deals with you and the troll. He kept his word, you're trying not to...
CHORAB: It'd be yours if I had it. But Lobinden's a poor hamlet.
GERALT: All right, make it a hundred.
GERALT: Sure you don't want to look a little harder?
CHORAB: What if I don't find any?
GERALT: Then I'll look myself.
CHORAB: This is robbery... Here, I hope you choke on it.
GERALT: If only I'd known... So long.
[If the Woe Unto the Vanquished sidequest was completed in the prologue, Geralt is stopped by two townspeople in fine clothes in Flotsam.]
TOWNSMAN: Are you Geralt of Rivia, sir?
GERALT: Who's asking?
TOWNSWOMAN: Thank you, master, for what you did outside La Valette Castle.
TOWNSMAN: Our family would have perished if not for you. Please accept this modest gift.
GERALT: Thank you.
TOWNSMAN: May the gods protect you.
GERALT: I can't accept this.
TOWNSMAN: But...
GERALT: Give my regards to your relatives.