CHAPTER III (ROCHE)
CONTENTS
- TUTORIAL
- PROLOGUE
- chapter I
- chapter II iorveth
- chapter II roche
- chapter III iorveth
- CHAPTER III (ROCHE)
- For Temeria
- Crown Witness
- Lilies and Vipers: Baron Kimbolt
- Pacta Sunt Servanda
- Lilies and Vipers: Natalis' Judgment
- Where is Triss Merigold?
- Of His Blood and Bone
- A Summit of Mages (Triss)
- A Summit of Mages (Roche)
- Enter the Dragon
- Character Dialogue
- Overheard Dialogue
- Sidequests
- Sidequest
[TITLE TEXT: Loc Muinne in the Blue Mountains, one week later]
[The camera pans over Loc Muinne's courtyard from above. The commander of Dethmold's soldiers is in the courtyard is eating an apple. Dethmold arrives and takes his apple, biting into it himself.]
DETHMOLD: Has Radovid's messenger been by?
COMMANDER: Yes, sir.
DETHMOLD: And what did he say?
COMMANDER: Temeria cannot survive... the kingdom will be divided - the nobles are riled, Constable Natalis stands on shaky ground.
DETHMOLD: Loyal old Natalis will get kicked in the arse. How predictable.
COMMANDER: They nearly reached an agreement, but without Foltest's daughter it didn't work out.
DETHMOLD: Perfect. Are the quarters ready?
COMMANDER: There is a... little problem.
DETHMOLD: Then we must look at this problem.
[Dethmold and the soldier arrive at the cell where Anaïs is being kept; it is an open room with one guard standing in front.]
DETHMOLD: There's no door.
COMMANDER: We can't lock her in a doorless cell.
DETHMOLD: I can see that, you fool. Out of my way.
DETHMOLD: Uncle Dethmold will cast a tiny spell on your little house.
DETHMOLD: Ver'sah anemo!
[Dethmold casts a spell, and a web of blue lines crosses the open door.]
DETHMOLD: We won't let that naughty Natalis get you.
DETHMOLD: Nilfgaard's most precious gift.
[The guard accidentally gets shocked by the blue lines. Anaïs is visible behind them, head lowered. Dethmold and his commander leave.]
DETHMOLD: Clear up in here. This is Loc Muinne, not a bloody pigsty!
[Camera cuts to Roche and Geralt talking in the mountains on the way to Loc Muinne.]
ROCHE: Oh, bollocks, Geralt. Marshal Raupenneck was a cruel, bloodthirsty prick, true - but the times were different.
GERALT: He had his men murder every last elf in Loc Muinne...
ROCHE: For years, Iorveth and his ilk have been using that banner to wipe their arses clean of the shit they do. In wartime, a commander's forced to make all kinds of decisions - it's as simple as that.
GERALT: Yeah, and I'm sure it lay really heavily on Raupenneck's conscience.
ROCHE: Bollocks, again. I've already admitted he was a prick. Are you defending the Aen Seidhe? They've got barrels of blood on their hands as well.
ROCHE: "With the Vrans gone, we had to safeguard this source of the Power, safeguard this historic city." Hah, elven drivel. Heaps of lizard-like bones were found in nearby caves - all bearing traces of sword cuts. Ah, think what you will, I'm more interested in the city's current inhabitants.
GERALT: Why am I worried you're going to do something really stupid once we get there?
ROCHE: Above all, I'll find the cure to my suffering.
GERALT: Dethmold was just a pawn in Henselt's hands.
ROCHE: Dethmold is a bloody murderer and Henselt was a king. A king I killed.
ROCHE: He didn't believe I'd do it till the very end. Nor did I. It's not something I want to discuss again. I don't know if I'll ever strike those images from my mind, but I know I don't want to talk about it.
GERALT: Taking revenge on Dethmold won't change a thing.
ROCHE: Ah, but it will. The ghosts of my comrades will drink to my health.
ROCHE: Its name is Dethmold.
GERALT: Careful you don't step in some serious shit while looking for that cure.
ROCHE: He will feel death consuming him.
GERALT: You're counting wyverns before they've hatched...
ROCHE: Huh. He's no wyvern. He's a rat with no sewer left to hide in.
ROCHE: The Blue Stripes were more than a fighting force. I selected and trained those men myself. True, there were good days and bad... But they weren't even given the chance to die in combat.
GERALT: You also lost your king, Vernon. Don't forget why you embarked on this mission.
ROCHE: I haven't. If Letho and Síle are in Loc Muinne... they'll never leave it alive.
[Geralt and Roche make their way down the winding mountain path to Loc Muinne's gates, fighting harpies as they go. At the base of the mountain, they see two guards stationed.]
ROCHE: Knights of the Order...
GERALT: This is the last place I'd expect to see Knights of the Flaming Rose.
ROCHE: They're here with Radovid. After losing their foothold in Temeria, they rebuilt their position at the Redanian court. You'd best stay out of sight. You never know with those bigots.
GERALT: Yeah, we also had a little disagreement recently. They could be holding a grudge.
ROCHE: I'll explain that your presence in Loc Muinne is necessary.
GERALT: Don't worry about the knights. Not so long ago I saved their asses. They oughta remember that much.
ROCHE: That was before you were accused of regicide. This is no man's land, Geralt. Anything can happen here. I'll vouch for you where I can, but that'll only get you so far.
GERALT: What now? What can we expect to see in the city?
ROCHE: Separate camps, buffer zones and frequent patrols. Or that's how it should be organized if those mages from the Conclave have any sense.
GERALT: Ah, another area of your expertise.
ROCHE: The Peace of Cintra was signed on April 2nd, and all around was quiet, calm and orderly - if you don't count Henselt's roars and the all-night festivities of the Mahakam Volunteer Army.
ROCHE: And the common folk were positively thrilled with the parade that followed. Yet not one of those fuckers even knew that I, and a few others like me, spent a week poring over the city map and devising a way to keep those crowned idiots separate. Just in case one decided to deal the next blow in a long-standing feud.
ROCHE: Uh, in any case, I hope to see something similar here.
GERALT: Relax, the mages want royal gold. They'll make sure all the sources of financing remain alive and present, at least until the inevitable quarrel over the Pontar Valley breaks out.
ROCHE: Well, we'll see if there's indeed a way where there's a will. If we're separated, we'll meet up again in the main square.
GERALT: Fine.
[Geralt and Roche approach the knights guarding the path into Loc Muinne.]
ORDER KNIGHT: Halt! Who goes there?
ROCHE: Vernon Roche and Geralt of Rivia. In the service of Temeria.
ORDER KNIGHT: Foltest's killer in the service of Temeria?
ROCHE: Foltest's killer is in Loc Muinne. Geralt of Rivia will help me capture him.
ORDER KNIGHT: I couldn't give a pig's arse who killed Foltest, but this bastard raised his hand against the Order, and I'll not let him pass.
GERALT: In that case, I'll walk in over your dead body, brother.
ROCHE: Bear in mind that peace negotiations are underway behind those walls. I'll have no blood spilt here.
GERALT: Since you're Knights of the Order, is there a ponce named Siegfried among you?
ORDER KNIGHT: There is, indeed.
GERALT: Tell him I'm here. He's sure to be pleased to see me.
ORDER KNIGHT: And why is that?
GERALT: Well, he wouldn't be Grand Master if it wasn't for me.
ORDER KNIGHT: Come through, then.
ROCHE: Why are the Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose here?
ORDER KNIGHT: We're here on the invitation of His Majesty King Radovid.
GERALT: Radovid can invite anyone he wants to Redania. Problem is, this isn't Redania.
ORDER KNIGHT: Questioning the King's will?
ROCHE: If Radovid invited you here, why are you encamped outside the city?
ORDER KNIGHT: We're not part of the official delegation...
ROCHE: Well, we're on our way to an official audience with King Radovid. He's expecting us, so stand aside.
[Geralt and Roche pass and make their way through the Order of the Flaming Rose camp.]
GERALT: Looks like Radovid doesn't believe the peace talks will end peacefully.
ROCHE: You can be sure of one thing - not a soul is to be trusted in this city.
GERALT: Not a soul to be trusted anytime, anywhere - period.
ROCHE: We need to assess the situation. Whoever stationed the knights at Loc Muinne's gates is likely to know the most, and to have the upper hand.
ROCHE: I'm going to the Redanian camp. If you want to look around, I'll meet you near Radovid's headquarters.
GERALT: All right.
[On his way to meet Roche, Geralt runs into a Nilfgaardian mage accompanied by several soldiers.]
MAGE: I don't believe you killed Foltest.
GERALT: I didn't.
MAGE: But a bounty is a bounty. I'm sure you understand, as a professional. It's nothing personal.
GERALT: *Sigh* One more windbag.
[Geralt defeats the bounty hunters and goes to meet Roche in the town square.]
ROCHE: Ready for your chat with Radovid?
GERALT: I need to look around Loc Muinne some more.
ROCHE: All right, but don't take too long. Our matters can't wait forever.
GERALT: No reason to delay it.
ROCHE: Follow me, then.
[Geralt and Roche are halted by a pair of guards on their way into the Redanian encampment.]
ORDER KNIGHT: Halt!
ROCHE: We're here to meet King Radovid.
ORDER KNIGHT: Have you been granted an official audience?
GERALT: No, but we have some very important news for him.
ORDER KNIGHT: I cannot let you through to see the King.
[Continues with the same Witcher 1 import lines as below.]
GERALT: We have information about the kingslayers.
ORDER KNIGHT: Everyone knows the killer is the witcher from Rivia.
GERALT: Then everyone is wrong.
ORDER KNIGHT: Not my concern. I cannot risk placing the King of Redania in harm's way.
GERALT: We bring Radovid news that will strengthen his position during the talks. Care to risk his wrath?
GERALT: The Grand Master of the Order of the Flaming Rose will vouch for us.
GERALT: Besides, this camp is swarming with soldiers. We'd have to be stupid or suicidal to attack Radovid.
ORDER KNIGHT: Hm, pass then, if your news is so important. But one word from the King and you'll hang - both of you.
ROCHE: Don't you worry about us.
[Geralt and Roche pass through the Redanian encampment.]
ROCHE: Temeria stands little chance of surviving if Radovid has made terms with Kaedwen.
GERALT: Even less if he's made a pact with Nilfgaard. He and the Emperor could divide the entire North between them.
ROCHE: I'd take pleasure in seeing Kaedwen picked apart.
GERALT: But they'd start with the country deepest in chaos. So you'd best hope nothing of that sort has happened.
[Two guards bar their way to Radovid's meeting hall with their halberds.]
ORDER KNIGHT: Did you request an audience with the King?
GERALT: Yes.
ORDER KNIGHT: The King will receive you.
[Geralt and Roche approach Radovid, who is meeting with several nobles. When he sees them, Radovid dismisses the nobles.]
RADOVID: Geralt of Rivia.
GERALT: Your Majesty.
RADOVID: As usual, you turn up where and when you're least expected. And in such company. I never thought they'd make a soldier out of you.
GERALT: It's hard to focus on killing monsters when so many people are out to kill me.
GERALT: Associating with military men doesn't make one a mercenary, Your Grace. I'm no soldier. I'm here to settle some scores.
GERALT: Vernon Roche is a friend. He's in uniform, sure, but that's meaningless.
RADOVID: The world has changed greatly since we met those few months ago. Temeria stands at the brink of civil war, Kaedwen has taken the Pontar Valley by force, and a Nilfgaardian delegation plays a prominent role at a summit of the Northern Kingdoms.
RADOVID: Foltest and Demavend are both dead, though it seems we were signing treaties just yesterday...Henselt was butchered in Vergen.
RADOVID: Foltest and Demavend are both dead, though it seems we were signing treaties just yesterday...
GERALT: What's the delegation from Nilfgaard doing here?
RADOVID: Henselt invited them.
RADOVID: Before he died.
RADOVID: Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen would never miss an opportunity like this one. He'll come to the talks and stage his favorite drama.
GERALT: Why did you bring the Knights of the Order here, Your Majesty?
RADOVID: The Order of the Flaming Rose is here to ensure that the talks remain peaceful. We wish to avoid a second Thanedd.
GERALT: I've come here for help, Your Majesty.
RADOVID: Wait, witcher. Were it not for you, Henselt would have perished at the hands of an assassin. Am I right?
GERALT: My reputation precedes me yet again...
RADOVID: From soldier to soldier, from whores to barons... right up to the royal ears.
GERALT: Why do you ask about him, Your Majesty?
RADOVID: Mere curiosity, but I understand if you'd rather not talk about it.
GERALT: I only delayed his death.
GERALT: I killed a would-be assassin. Pure coincidence - I just happened to be there.
RADOVID: Things like that oft seem to happen to you...
RADOVID: Do you know how he died?
GERALT: I wasn't there.
[Gives same options to continue as "Yes."]
RADOVID: Enough about Henselt.
GERALT: Yes, I was there.
RADOVID: Speak then.
GERALT: Henselt had Roche's unit murdered - I can't call it anything else. In doing that, he signed his own death sentence. In the chaos that followed the battle of Vergen, we caught up to him in one of the houses.
ROCHE: I killed him because it had to be done. It was just. And Dethmold is next on the list.
RADOVID: That is the only reason I won't have you hanged, Vernon Roche.
GERALT: I killed him.
GERALT: When he was looking for Saskia in Vergen, after the battle, I cornered him in a hut and I killed him.
RADOVID: Yet even though at least one of you is a kingslayer, I can possibly use you both.
GERALT: He followed orders and deserves the same.
RADOVID: Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement.
RADOVID: You said you needed help, witcher. Tell me more.
GERALT: If Temeria is in turmoil, then who has arrived to represent it?
RADOVID: Constable Natalis, the hero of Brenna, which is good. His presence is like a slap on Shilard's face delivered by the North.
GERALT: Who's representing Kaedwen?
RADOVID: Only the sorcerer Dethmold and his men are in Loc Muinne. But Dethmold represents himself.
GERALT: Has King Henselt arrived?
RADOVID: Pfff... He's been talking about his great victory at Vergen ever since.
GERALT: Síle de Tansarville is behind the murderers that hit Temeria, Aedirn and Kaedwen.
RADOVID: How do you know?
[This automatically fails if Geralt has already failed to lie to Radovid.]
GERALT: I don't have any proof, but it's her. You've got to believe me, Your Majesty.
GERALT: I found one of the assassins after Henselt's murder. Before he died, he revealed De Tansarville's role to me.
RADOVID: Why you in particular?
GERALT: The desperation of a dying man.
GERALT: No idea.
GERALT: He knew me from the time I can't remember.
RADOVID: Your past troubles me, Geralt. But I have more pressing matters today.
GERALT: We killed one of them in Aedirn. Dethmold used his magic to give me a glimpse of the past. I saw the assassin talking to others. They spoke of Síle.
RADOVID: One mage's magic shows another's guilt. And it's no ordinary magic, but the forbidden path of necromancy.
RADOVID: It all makes sense. Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen warned me about a plot. Apparently, Triss Merigold confessed to him that the sorceresses had set up a secret Lodge.
GERALT: Triss is working with Shilard?
RADOVID: She's been detained as a suspect. Shilard believes the sorceresses of Nilfgaard were also part of the conspiracy. Luckily, the entire amphitheatre is under a spell that quells any magic. Otherwise, no one would dare go near all those mages.
RADOVID: Well, the talks beckon. Everyone wants to see Temeria's bitter end.
ROCHE: What do you mean by that, Your Majesty?
RADOVID: The nobles are rebelling in Vizima. Lacking a ruler, they simply want to divide the kingdom into provinces.
ROCHE: Divide Temeria? Shame on the traitors!
RADOVID: Well... it doesn't have to be that way.
RADOVID: Temeria separates the North from Nilfgaard. In the hands of local barons and warlords, it will be nothing more than a means for the Nilfgaardian cavalry to gain momentum. Henselt wants Redania and Kaedwen to partition it.
ROCHE: For shame!
RADOVID: I have no choice. Unless we help each other, witcher.
RADOVID: Anaïs, the daughter of Louisa and Foltest, lives still.
RADOVID: After the baroness's rebellion, the girl was captured by the Nilfgaardians. The child has become a bargaining chip between the Empire and Kaedwen.
GERALT: What about Síle?
RADOVID: Easy, witcher. I have ways to deal with impertinent sorceresses. I have managed to tame Philippa Eilhart. Why shouldn't I do so with Síle de Tansarville as well?
GERALT: Why does Dethmold need Foltest's daughter?
RADOVID: The girl has become entirely dependent on him, which will strengthen his position in the Conclave. Remember, he who has Anaïs will have the upper hand today.
RADOVID: Henselt is pressuring me on the subject of partition. He firmly believes he's pulling all the strings.
RADOVID: After Foltest's death, the La Valettes came to prominence. Louisa's uncle, Baron Orvall, became one of the most important people in Temeria. He wanted to see Anaïs on the throne... but Vizima was still in turmoil. They sent her to Loc Muinne anyway to declare her queen before the entire North.
RADOVID: During the journey the girl was kidnapped. Aryan La Valette asked me to use my connections to find his sister, which I did. My people tell me Anaïs is here in Loc Muinne, in Dethmold's hands.
RADOVID: I cannot mount an armed attack on the Kaedwenis. It would be tantamount to declaring war, and we have gathered here to maintain peace. A lone witcher and a former soldier - that would be a different matter...
RADOVID: Bring me Anaïs, Geralt, and I'll salvage a united Temeria and punish those whose hands are stained with the Temerian king's blood.
GERALT: I heard Aryan died in the fire that consumed La Valette Castle.
RADOVID: We all thought so. And we were all wrong.
RADOVID: The girl is most important, witcher.
RADOVID: I'd announce our engagement and make her Queen of Redania and Temeria. The nobles of Vizima would greet her on bended knee, and the North would emerge stronger than ever.
RADOVID: I would look after her, take her back to Tretogor in Redania, where she would mature under the caring gaze of her half-sister and my wife, Adda.
RADOVID: When she's of age, she can claim the throne and thus guarantee Temeria's sovereignty.
RADOVID: I must attend these talks, Geralt. Time is short. Bring me the girl. The two of you - men without country or commander, renegades that no one seems to have taken into account.
RADOVID: I, in turn, promise that Síle de Tansarville will pay for her deeds. I shall punish her with fire and steel.
ROCHE: An alliance with Redania is our only chance at preserving Temeria's independence.
GERALT: It's still risky.
ROCHE: Anaïs - she's the key.
GERALT: I still wonder about Boussy's death. The boy would have had a stronger claim to the throne.
ROCHE: Maybe Anaïs can tell us something. It's high time we visited our old friend Dethmold.
GERALT: The Emperor's men hold Triss. They'll get everything they can out of her... after which she'll be dispensable.
ROCHE: If it's between the sorceress's life and Temeria's future, then I've no choice. I'm sorry. This is no place to talk. Let's wait till we're beyond the gate.
[Geralt and Roche emerge from the Redanian quarters. In the town square, a woman being followed by two men looks over her shoulder frantically. She sees Roche and runs up to him; her pursuers look uncertain and leave.]
BRIGIDA: Roche?
BRIGIDA: ROCHE!
[Roche turns.]
ROCHE: Just the person I'd be looking for were I not forced to seek Anaïs La Valette. You have much to explain, Brigida Papebrock.
BRIGIDA: Oh, no. You'll not pin this on me! I trusted you and you sent me into a den of vipers! Vipers!
GERALT: Another Ves?
ROCHE: This is no time for pleasantries, Geralt. Calm yourself, Brigida. You were to watch Foltest's children. I saw nothing dangerous in the task. Obviously, I was wrong. But I need your help. Anaïs has been kidnapped, Boussy is likely dead - I need to know how this happened. I need to know the details.
BRIGIDA: You knew well what you were getting me into. You know that entire rotting bunch - the count, the baron!
ROCHE: Not half as well as you do, my dear... Who were those men?
BRIGIDA: Not so fast, Roche. I have been hiding in this city for three days, scurrying about like a rat. They're hunting me. I'll not let you leave me here.
GERALT: What do you propose?
BRIGIDA: Escort me out of the city, to the river.
GERALT: What will that get you?
BRIGIDA: I expected I would need to fend for myself. I've secured passage. Take me there, and I will tell you all.
ROCHE: It's a long way...
BRIGIDA: You've a traitor in your camp, Roche. Perhaps more than one. What happened to Foltest's bastards is no series of coincidences. It's the result of a clever, treacherous game.
ROCHE: Damn it all... Geralt, I need to look to Anaïs, learn how we're to get to her. But Brigida might know what happened to Boussy. Thus far we've heard nothing but rumors. Take her to the river.
GERALT: All right, Roche. I'll help you this one last time.
ROCHE: I'll search for a back way into the Kaedweni camp.
GERALT: You're forgetting - I came here for Triss.
ROCHE: Whatever you decide to do later, so be it. But a traitor in the Temerian camp threatens us all. Escort Brigida, learn what you can.
BRIGIDA: I'd thank you, Roche, if you weren't such a shit.
ROCHE: I'm counting on you, Geralt. Brigida must get to her destination safely.
GERALT: Good luck, Roche.
GERALT: I came here for Triss. These are your matters and your people, Roche. Keep me out of this.
ROCHE: Forgive me, Brigida. You must fend for yourself.
BRIGIDA: You're a true scoundrel. And an idiot. I shall wait by the main gate. You have one hour. Then I'm gone - as is my evidence and all I know.
GERALT: Hm. That comes pretty easily to you, doesn't it.
ROCHE: What's that?
GERALT: Letting people go.
ROCHE: Bollocks, Geralt. Compare her situation to Anaïs'. Who's in greater need? Besides, I wouldn’t have let her go if I didn't believe she could manage. Brigida Papebrock is fully capable of taking care of her own arse.
GERALT: What if she knows something important?
ROCHE: Then she'll deliver that knowledge where she needs to. There'll be time for that later. Geralt, I'll try to find a back way into the Kaedweni camp - it won't be easy...
GERALT: I'd say the same for the Nilfgaardian camp.
ROCHE: You need to decide. If you choose what's personally important... well, I won't agree, but I'll respect it.
GERALT: And dropping in on Dethmold is not a personal matter to you?
ROCHE: It's the icing on the cake. Temeria's future - that's what really matters.
GERALT: Explaining who's behind the regicides is not just my business. And the Nilfgaardian camp is where I think we'll learn the truth.
ROCHE: The regicides are part of the past. Temeria's future is what counts. And you have to decide what's more important to you.
ROCHE: I'll go investigate the Kaedweni camp - look for a way in. Find me there when you make up your mind, but don't take long.
GERALT: All right.
[Geralt meets Brigida at the gate.]
BRIGIDA: I'll not stay one minute longer in this cursed city. Are you ready?
GERALT: Wait for me here. I'll be back soon.
BRIGIDA: Don't dawdle, witcher. I'm not wanted in Loc Muinne - that's painfully clear.
GERALT: Yeah, let's go.
GERALT: Which way are we headed?
BRIGIDA: We shall leave Loc Muinne through the Order's camp - we won't be bothered there. Then we'll descend the mountain path and go on to the river. Who knows what we'll find...
GERALT: Expecting someone?
BRIGIDA: Does it matter, witcher...?
GERALT: You did mention vipers. A count and a baron?
BRIGIDA: Maravel and Kimbolt. Powerful men, important in the Temerian camp, and thoroughly unscrupulous...
GERALT: Vernon's mentioned them. I guess I have them to thank for an interesting chat Roche and I had a while back. Know them well?
BRIGIDA: Too early to pry, witcher. I'll not let you pick my brain and abandon me.
[Geralt and Brigida exit the camp of the Order of the Flaming Rose.]
GERALT: The main path leads to the right.
BRIGIDA: That's where they're likely to be waiting.
GERALT: Roche would say they'd be waiting along both paths.
BRIGIDA: Roche, Roche, Roche... You're with me, not him. And I decide for myself. I've agreed to meet someone on the riverbank. We'll go through the wood.
BRIGIDA: Calm thus far. Your dear Roche seems to have been wrong.
GERALT: You two have a history, or do I have it wrong?
BRIGIDA: He asked a favor of me. I was to stay with Foltest's children, watch them, travel with them, if necessary. Child's play, the bastard called it. That's how I wound up in the caravan transporting the children to Loc Muinne for the summit.
GERALT: Hm. Yeah, that clearly went sour. Tell me more.
BRIGIDA: Soon enough. We've just got to make it through the forest. It's a short way to the river beyond that. It should be calm.
GERALT: Let's go.
BRIGIDA: It's not far now. Redlen awaits down by the river, at the end of this path.
GERALT: Is Redlen another of Roche's contacts?
BRIGIDA: No, a smuggler. I'd be looking for another way out if he were Roche's man.
GERALT: Stay behind me.
[Geralt and Brigida come to a clearing with a caravan and are ambushed.]
MAGE: It's Roche's bitch! Kill them!
[The mage vanishes; Geralt dispatches his men.]
BRIGIDA: They were expecting us...
GERALT: No time to lose. How much further?
BRIGIDA: Not far. We must stay on this path, it's the shortest way.
GERALT: You've gotten into some serious trouble...
BRIGIDA: I should say so. Temeria is like a haystack, and the information I have is a burning torch. Fill the rest in for yourself.
[At Brigida's meeting place, they find a rowboat and a man's corpse.]
BRIGIDA: This is the smuggler I spoke of...
GERALT: This was the smuggler you spoke of. Someone's coming...
[The mage and more men appear.]
MAGE: You'll not sail off, you whore. Kill her.
[Geralt defeats the mage and his men.]
BRIGIDA: Thank you... I'd not have survived on my own.
GERALT: Talk, woman. You've dragged me far away from the city. You owe me an explanation. Who were those men? Who have you been hiding from?
BRIGIDA: I... I don't know...
GERALT: Three days, like a rat, you said. And you don't know?
BRIGIDA: I knew... I mean, I had my suspicions.
GERALT: So talk.
GERALT: Who's out to kill you?
BRIGIDA: I don't know.
GERALT: There you go again.
BRIGIDA: Truly, I cannot be sure... At first I thought it was revenge... for the children... But he knows I'm no traitor?
GERALT: It's not Roche. We both know that.
BRIGIDA: Yes, yes.... You're right.
GERALT: Tell me about the vipers.
BRIGIDA: They, they created this storm.
GERALT: Are they working together?
BRIGIDA: I would say they detest one another. Or that's what they wish everyone to believe. The devil only knows.
GERALT: You know what the count intends?
BRIGIDA: No. But I cannot imagine anyone more different from Baron Kimbolt.
GERALT: Meaning?
BRIGIDA: I would call him a sheep were his heart not black. He's a jester, an especially nasty one, though I cannot identify his master. He may not even have one.
GERALT: What does Baron Kimbolt want?
BRIGIDA: A strong Temeria, and a strong North. He's obsessed. He believes we're surrounded by rebels and traitors - the La Valettes, the Maravels...
GERALT: He's probably not alone in that belief.
BRIGIDA: But he is alone in believing that he himself is the remedy for that ailment. The baron sees himself on the Temerian throne - he claimed he would achieve this by marrying Anaïs.
GERALT: Isn't she a little young for him?
BRIGIDA: He's a disgusting old satyr. He'd be a tyrant were he to don the crown.
GERALT: Seems you got to know the baron and the count well. Then there's Roche... Pretty interesting social life, I'd say.
BRIGIDA: Being a courtier - that was no life for me. I thought it terribly dull and found a remedy.
GERALT: Searching for excitement shouldn't get you killed.
BRIGIDA: It's the last time I do anything of the sort.
GERALT: You can't be sure of that. Is Vernon the only person you do favors for?
BRIGIDA: I've never betrayed Temeria, if that's what you ask.
GERALT: What happened to the convoy carrying Anaïs and Boussy? What about the children?
BRIGIDA: We were ambushed. The caravan was destroyed.
GERALT: I need details.
BRIGIDA: We were travelling along the agreed path, with a limited escort so as not to draw attention. The children were in two separate wagons - a safety measure, I was told.
GERALT: Which one were you in?
BRIGIDA: I was with Anaïs. One day a messenger appeared with orders for the caravan's commander. A change of plans. We turned north to travel a longer route for safety's sake. Soon after the turn-off, we were attacked.
GERALT: Hm.
BRIGIDA: The attackers were killing everyone indiscriminately. One pulled me from the wagon, but a bolt pierced his neck. It was mayhem. I ran for the bushes and hid.
GERALT: Did you see what happened to the children?
BRIGIDA: The driver of Boussy's wagon was shot. The horses got spooked and ran off into the forest, taking the wagon with them. When the fighting was done, they found Anaïs, still in her wagon. I turned away for fear of what they might do, but they merely grabbed her and fled.
GERALT: Any idea what happened to the caravan commander's orders?
BRIGIDA: I have them. After they took Anaïs, the bastards were in a hurry. They didn't even think to search the corpses. Take them.
GERALT: Thanks. Sure you can manage that boat?
BRIGIDA: I must. I'll not return to the city. Thank you again, witcher. And follow this through. You'll do us all a favor.
[Brigida gives Geralt a letter signed by Baron Kimbolt, to a man named Horst Lubovitz, ordering the convoy to change course. She escapes using the boat, and Geralt returns to Loc Muinne.]
[Geralt enters Baron Kimbolt's tent to find him in the middle of talking to a thug-looking man.]
MAN: I believe there's been a misunderstanding, m'Lord.
KIMBOLT: Get out, before I call my guards.
MAN: And what might I convey?
KIMBOLT: Nothing.
MAN: Baron, sir, you gave your word.
KIMBOLT: For the last time. Out!
KIMBOLT: Tend to this matter.
[The guard next to Kimbolt, Garlen, peels away to obey.]
GERALT: Baron Ravanen Kimbolt, I presume.
KIMBOLT: Does that witchers' code of yours exempt you from court etiquette? Does it grant you the right to speak to the highborn without being asked to do so?
GERALT: I guess I don't need to introduce myself.
KIMBOLT: Oh, no. I know who you are. Geralt of Rivia. Foltest's other favorite hound, alongside Roche. Not purebred. They say you bring trouble wherever you appear.
GERALT: Who was that thug I passed in the doorway?
KIMBOLT: He's of no concern to you.
GERALT: We host who we want. True enough.
GERALT: People like him sometimes do stupid things.
KIMBOLT: Did I ask for your opinion on the matter?
GERALT: They're gonna re-establish the Conclave. I didn't expect so many Temerians to show up for the ceremony.
KIMBOLT: We're not here for some magic pomp and circumstance. This is about celebrating a new order in the Northern Kingdoms.
GERALT: Is that so?
KIMBOLT: Your kind doesn't understand this yet, but your life is about to change - forever.
GERALT: My kind?
KIMBOLT: Wanderers and scoundrels. People, and I use the term loosely, without loyalty or country, people for whom coin is the law and everything's for sale.
GERALT: What'll happen to Temeria?
KIMBOLT: Is that a note of nostalgia I hear in your voice? Remembering your service under Foltest, or recalling some romp in the sack with the royal advisor? Whichever it may be, spare me your courtesy. You don't care a lick about my country.
GERALT: You're right, I don’t. Now that Foltest's dead, you'll tear Temeria into bits, but luckily, I just don't give a shit.
KIMBOLT: Funny, because you sound as if you do.
GERALT: I know what I care about. That's why I asked.
GERALT: I asked out of concern for a friend. I came here with Vernon Roche.
KIMBOLT: I know.
GERALT: We royal hounds like to stick together.
KIMBOLT: Understand this - I'm talking to you only out of respect for Foltest, out of remembrance for him.
GERALT: Haven't seen much evidence of that remembrance - aside from the rewards on my head.
KIMBOLT: They'd have hanged you if not for the testimony of little Anaïs.
GERALT: So the girl finally talked.
KIMBOLT: Whoever that monk was, to me, he was just like you.
GERALT: I didn't kill Foltest. That's just one of the things that makes us different.
KIMBOLT: Really? What else? Honor, principles?
GERALT: I'm a witcher. I don't kill humans for coin.
KIMBOLT: Are you certain it's not just a question of price? Tell me, Geralt - what were you doing at Foltest's side that unfortunate day?
GERALT: Triss Merigold. I was there for her.
KIMBOLT: In that case you killed many for that woman. I hope she was worth it.
GERALT: You're right, I should've turned Foltest down.
KIMBOLT: The royal entourage is no place for a witcher.
GERALT: We were supposed to leave after the battle. Triss and I. Foltest had already consented. I should've left before the battle.
GERALT: I was doing the right thing. You wouldn't ask that question if I was an ordinary soldier.
KIMBOLT: But you're not. You're not a soldier, you're not even a Temerian.
GERALT: I'll grant you that. You can't even guess how similar we are, Baron.
KIMBOLT: You're a paid thug, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. That murky set of principles, values call them, you cast in the nearest corner when the price is right.
GERALT: I'm not for sale.
KIMBOLT: I'm not talking about coin, witcher. As a freak, you want what you're most often denied. Camaraderie, respect... love. It is for those things that you scale walls and murder innocents. That is your price.
GERALT: They say there are no innocents at war.
KIMBOLT: Indeed. At war there is but the cause you fight for. A higher calling. Though they also say war is a refuge for the cursed, an asylum for those stripped of heart and soul.
GERALT: Killing for your loved ones. Hardly a new concept, as I see it.
KIMBOLT: You did not fight to defend the sorceress Merigold nor the king, Geralt. You fought because you wished to be close to them. They had a higher calling, they knew the cause for which they went to war. Death is your daily fare. You murder like a dog who leaps at the throat his master indicates.
GERALT: A higher calling. Beautiful concept. Except I remember the knights who stormed La Valette Castle. Highborn men fighting atop high walls. They were out to kill for fame, fortune, and pure enjoyment.
GERALT: I was also at Vergen, where simple soldiers went into battle clutching false relics to their breast, knowing that death awaited them if they deserted.
KIMBOLT: They owed it to their king.
GERALT: If there's one thing I love about being a witcher, it's that I never draw my sword on someone else's command.
KIMBOLT: I tire of this discussion, witcher. Get to the point or leave.
GERALT: I take it you sit on the Council of Regents.
KIMBOLT: Not for much longer.
GERALT: Why's that?
KIMBOLT: The council will become obsolete. Temeria is a country one rules with a crown on one's head, or not at all.
GERALT: A lot of people are out to don that crown.
KIMBOLT: But few have the right. As Foltest's cousin, the throne should be mine.
GERALT: Or the royal daughter's. Anaïs La Valette's.
KIMBOLT: Dark will be the day when we are ruled by bastards. The nobles have decided to share power.
GERALT: You said it yourself, Baron - in a crown or not at all.
KIMBOLT: Temeria will be divided into provinces. A shameful end to the monarchy. A shameful end to the country.
GERALT: The convoy carrying Anaïs and Boussy was ambushed. Why?
KIMBOLT: I'd like to know that myself.
GERALT: I've seen your letter to Horst Lubbock. The one in which you ordered him to abandon the planned route.
KIMBOLT: Nonsense! I sent no such letter.
GERALT: You're lying, Baron.
KIMBOLT: Watch your words, wanderer. One nod from me and my people will riddle you with arrows before you can use any of your witchers' tricks.
GERALT: What're you waiting for?
KIMBOLT: To hear the details of your slander.
GERALT: The letter bears your seal and signature, Baron.
KIMBOLT: Where is it?
GERALT: That's immaterial just now.
KIMBOLT: If that's the situation... I've said all I have to say. I wrote no such letter.
GERALT: Words come cheap, Baron. I'm finding it hard to believe you.
KIMBOLT: I care little for what you believe.
KIMBOLT: If this letter exists, we are dealing with a forgery.
GERALT: I have it.
KIMBOLT: Show me.
GERALT: I need you to promise.
KIMBOLT: What?
GERALT: That I'll get the letter back.
KIMBOLT: I tire of your tone, witcher. Damn. So be it. I pledge to return the letter to you. I merely want to see this "original" with my own eyes.
KIMBOLT: It is my seal. But the hand is forged, sloppily. We are dealing with a forgery.
GERALT: You'll have to take my word.
KIMBOLT: The word of a wandering monster slayer means nothing to me.
KIMBOLT: If that's the situation... I've said all I have to say. I wrote no such letter.
GERALT: Words come cheap, Baron. I'm finding it hard to believe you.
KIMBOLT: I care little for what you believe.
KIMBOLT: If this letter exists, we are dealing with a forgery.
KIMBOLT: Whoever is behind this has crossed a Temerian noble. And will be duly punished.
KIMBOLT: My scribe will test the letter and confirm what I claim.
GERALT: All right. I'll see what this scribe has to say.
GERALT: "My claim," "my scribe." I'd hardly call that impartial. Maybe I should just deliver the letter to Natalis.
KIMBOLT: Any accusation will be quickly dismissed. Heed my words, witcher - it would be unwise of you to jump to any conclusions. Speak with my scribe.
KIMBOLT: There are objective means of examining the letter's authenticity. I promise to pay you well for learning the truth.
GERALT: Hm. The truth does taste better when payment's involved.
[Geralt goes to see Kimbolt's scribe.]
GERALT: Drunker than a bard. Won't get anything out of him. Maybe there's something about testing letters in his notes.
[Geralt finds the scribe's notes in the nearby bookshelf, then goes to the scribe's stills.]
GERALT: According to the scribe's notes, if this is Kimbolt's letter, the paper it's written on was treated with an invisible dye. An activator should bring out the dye, turning the paper blue. Now for the activator's formula... Better try it on some drafts first.
GERALT: How did it go? "Light, quench, shit, rinse. Thus you will the facts evince. To read the truth by lies deformed, guano into piss transform."
GERALT: I need to make the substance that will bring out the dye and apply it to the letter.
GERALT: Gotta be careful with this...
GERALT: Damn. Destroyed that letter. I need to be more careful.
GERALT: I need to add burnt lime to the flask, then quench it with water. Add bird guano to that, heat it, then capture the vapors and run them through cold water to obtain the final substance. All right, let's try this on Kimbolt's letter.
GERALT: Shit. Now I'll never know if the letter was fake.
GERALT: A little burnt lime... A bit of water... Everything's better with a dash of bird guano. Wait for it to dissolve...
GERALT: Smells like piss, but it worked... The sheet's orange, not blue - the letter's fake. Kimbolt had nothing to do with this.
[Geralt returns to Kimbolt to talk to him about the letter.]
GERALT: You were right, Baron. The letter's forged.
KIMBOLT: Of course I was right. I would never seek to hurt Boussy. Bastard or not, he is still a child. Your payment, witcher.
KIMBOLT: I want you to look into another matter.
GERALT: I don't have time to do you any more favors.
KIMBOLT: In that case, come see me when you find some more room in your pockets for gold.
GERALT: What would it involve?
KIMBOLT: Count Linus Maravel. You've heard the name?
GERALT: Young, capable, handsome.
KIMBOLT: Yes, yes, all that and more. And he's ambitious to a fault. Right after the Temerian delegation arrived in Loc Muinne, his people began visiting the Nilfgaardian camp - regularly.
GERALT: Are you suggesting Maravel's a traitor?
KIMBOLT: *Sigh* We are all entitled to communicate with the ambassador, without chagrin and openly, as court and diplomatic protocols allow. Yet the count's multiple messengers, the letters traveling to and fro - it reminds me more of a complicated courtship.
GERALT: You're curious to know the content of those letters.
KIMBOLT: I want you to learn the count's plans. The man would sell his mother to please the emperor. Find out what Maravel's messenger is carrying. If treason is involved, you must alert John Natalis. You will be generously rewarded, I assure you.
GERALT: You need a witcher to do this?
KIMBOLT: Do not underestimate Count Maravel. He does not employ common scoundrels, and I don't intend to either. Hieronymus Lash - sound familiar?
GERALT: A pretentious, invented name. Belongs to a bard or a mummer, I'd say. But you wouldn't need my help with either of those, so I'll venture a guess - Maravel entrusts his correspondence to a mage.
KIMBOLT: I knew you were suited to this task. The magic barrier placed over the city mutes all forms of high magic, preventing Lash from contacting Shilard remotely.
KIMBOLT: He nevertheless remains dangerous. During the times of the previous Conclave, I believe he was caught practicing black magic. He faced execution, but that louse Maravel saved him.
GERALT: How do I locate this messenger?
KIMBOLT: Look for my man Aldrich by the fountain here in the camp. He'll point the mage out to you.
GERALT: No matter what they say, I'm neither a killer for hire nor your errand boy. Wanna spy on your rival? Use your own people.
KIMBOLT: You just shat on Foltest's grave, witcher.
GERALT: Farewell, Baron.
GERALT: All right. I'll look into it.
[Garlen, the soldier who Kimbolt sent after the thug in his quarters earlier, returns.]
GARLEN: My lord. We know where they are. What are your orders?
KIMBOLT: Bloody wonderful day. Assemble your men and resolve this once and for all.
GARLEN: Gather your gear. We're off to hunt.
[As Geralt leaves Maravel's quarters, a messenger runs up to him.]
MESSENGER: Master witcher!
GERALT: What do you want?
MESSENGER: M'lord, the right honorable Count Maravel, requests the pleasure of your company. He says it's urgent.
GERALT: Seems like everything is these days. Tell the count I'll think about it.
[Geralt goes to find Kimbolt's man by the fountain.
GERALT: Aldrich? Baron Kimbolt said you'd point Hieronymus Lash out to me.
ALDRICH: Perfect timing. Come with me.
[Aldrich leads Geralt to a corner near a pathway.]
GERALT: Where's Lash?
ALDRICH: Patience, mate. They should be here any minute.
[A man with a fancy staff on his back and fine clothes, tailed by two guards, walks down the path.]
ALDRICH: Look, there they are. I've done my bit. Up to you now.
[Geralt follows the men.]
LASH: We've got a tail! Stop him!
GUARD 1: Stop there, white one!
GERALT: What if I don't?
GUARD 2: Then I'll fuckin' help you.
GERALT: I'd like to see you try.
GUARD 2: Consider it done!
[Geralt dispatches Lash's guards and follows him into the next courtyard, where a Nilfgaardian squadron waits.]
LASH: That's the one! Kill him!
[Geralt kills the Nilfgaardians and follows Lash into the next courtyard.]
LASH: Enough! You shall die. Here and now.
[Geralt kills the mage and takes the letter he was carrying, from Maravel to Shilard, confirming that Maravel has been conspiring with Nilfgaard and arranged for Anaïs to be handed over to Dethmold. Geralt returns to Kimbolt with the news.]
GERALT: Maravel's letters pretty much confirm your claim. The count is a traitor.
KIMBOLT: What was in those letters?
GERALT: That information is for Constable Natalis. State secret, I'm sure you understand, Baron.
[Geralt goes to talk to Count Maravel.]
MARAVEL: Ah-ha-ha-ha, Geralt of Rivia. I am delighted to see you among the living... and the free.
GERALT: Are you serious, Count?
MARAVEL: Such an injustice to lock you up without so much as a hearing. And then the beatings, the torture. It's barbaric, I tell you - based on pure prejudice, the presumption of guilt.
GERALT: Actually, if I'd seen what they saw...
MARAVEL: But alas, such is my homeland: filled with fear and thus ruthless, cold as stone, dark and severe in aura and mindset.
GERALT: I suppose there's some truth to that.
MARAVEL: A response at once cautious and reasonable. Admirable qualities in and of themselves, positively required in your profession.
GERALT: If you say so.
GERALT: I've gotta say you stand out, Count.
MARAVEL: I'm flattered, I suppose, but what specifically do you mean?
GERALT: I haven't quite put my finger on it, but take a look around. Would you say you resemble your countrymen?
MARAVEL: I thank the gods I do not. It is because I love my homeland that I am the first to note its faults. And they are many.
GERALT: Care to elaborate?
MARAVEL: Hypocrisy, superstition, lack of learning. Need I go on?
GERALT: Nah, I think I get where you're coming from.
GERALT: If you wouldn't mind.
MARAVEL: Take you witchers, for instance. The gods know we suffer a plague of beasts - pre-Conjunction, post-Conjunction, magically bred and sprung from rotting marshes and the dark abysses of our land.
GERALT: No such thing as pre-Conjunction creatures...
MARAVEL: You bite unnecessarily. We have but one remedy for this plague, dwindling in numbers as it may be. Yet it is a remedy we revile. You are shunned, spat upon, turned away on stormy nights. Would you say this is reasonable?
GERALT: It's the way of things.
MARAVEL: Spoken like a true representative of a dying species.
GERALT: What brings you to Loc Muinne?
MARAVEL: Concern for my country, witcher, and an express and somewhat surprising request from Constable Natalis.
GERALT: Surprising? How so?
MARAVEL: Surely you jest, witcher. Truth be told, few could marshal loyal forces matching mine on such short order - Baron Kimbolt excepted. Yet though I very much held Foltest's trust, I cannot say that many of my Temerian peers feel the same way.
GERALT: Why do you suppose that is?
MARAVEL: They resent me. I share neither their customs nor their beliefs.
GERALT: Does the name Brigida Papebrock ring any bells?
MARAVEL: Rings bells, sets off whistles - why I believe my loins have grown warm. "Touch my plums! Touch my plums!"
GERALT: Excuse me?
MARAVEL: Fruit, witcher! Especially fruit of the south. Tender, juicy, soft on the exterior. That's what I think of when you mention Dame Brigida. The woman is positively obsessed.
GERALT: I was hoping for a straighter answer.
MARAVEL: A man of your experience surely understands what I mean.
GERALT: Hm. So, you admit you know her well.
MARAVEL: I know her, I have known her, and I expect I yet will. And I'm not alone in that. Though mind you - I admire the woman. Her kind of ambition is rare, among both genders.
GERALT: Ever taken advantage of that? Ever asked her to run errands for you?
MARAVEL: One must be careful with the ambitious. They are almost always running their own errands. Asking them to do yours simply invites them to use you. Baron Kimbolt learned that the hard way. But why ask me about the lass? Here and now, of all times and places. Surely, given your close allegiance and, no doubt, many a shared drinking binge, Commander Roche has told you all.
GERALT: Brigida used Baron Kimbolt?
MARAVEL: Continues to, I surmise.
GERALT: To what end?
MARAVEL: You cannot expect me to answer every little query that pops into your mind, witcher.
GERALT: Commander Roche can be strangely discreet. What do you know?
MARAVEL: I'm hardly one to tell another man's secrets...
GERALT: Indulge me.
MARAVEL: *Sigh* If you must know, the rascal Roche rogered our dear Brigida. Just before he passed her off onto me, among others - with a purpose in mind, I suspect.
GERALT: He'll be interested to hear what you had to say.
MARAVEL: My, my, aren't we dutiful...?
GERALT: What's so urgent, Count?
MARAVEL: *Sighs* Etiquette is not your enemy, witcher. It would not hurt you to embrace it at times. In any case, I could not help noticing you circulating in and out of Baron Kimbolt's quarters. Yet I wonder if you are fully aware of the kind of man you serve...
GERALT: What do you mean?
MARAVEL: He cuts a fine figure, doesn't he. The heavy cloak, the silver mane, the booming voice... Yet our worthy baron is hardly the saint he makes himself out to be.
GERALT: A lot of that going around recently...
MARAVEL: I am in possession of certain information that might interest you.
GERALT: Mhm. And you want to share it because...?
MARAVEL: We come from different worlds, witcher. On the surface, we are as unlike as wraiths and wyverns. Yet, no matter our preferences - culinary, political, erotic - ultimately we both are interested in, and tirelessly seek, one and the same thing: the truth.
GERALT: Only a fool would disagree. Tell me what you know.
MARAVEL: I saw through you immediately, witcher. I'm content I was not mistaken.
GERALT: You can talk, Count, I'll grant you that. But I'm not convinced you can be trusted. Baron Kimbolt also offered me the chance to learn a certain truth. I don't think I need to say who about.
MARAVEL: And you are certain that Kimbolt can be trusted?
GERALT: So far, all the baron's words have proved true.
MARAVEL: Well then I merely ask that you verify mine.
MARAVEL: You are not the sole person to have repeatedly visited our kind-hearted baron recently.
GERALT: Doesn't seem strange to me, given the time and the place.
MARAVEL: He has also had some more troublesome callers. Blackmailers, to be specific. Now, I'm not handing down any verdicts. Perhaps the baron has some personal problems - in which case I would very much like to help him.
GERALT: Get to the point, Count.
MARAVEL: My people have learned where these blackmailers are encamped. I assume Baron Kimbolt has not been sitting on his hands and has also dispatched his huntsman to find them. A horrible man.
GERALT: I know who you mean. Ran into him in Kimbolt's quarters.
MARAVEL: Then you must also know that if you do not make haste, nothing will be left of our blackmailers save some rotting corpses. I shall show you where they have their camp. And I merely ask that you learn what is at issue. Naturally, you can count on my gratitude, though we both know that is not the greatest reward.
GERALT: I can't promise you anything, Count. But I'll think about it. Farewell.
[Geralt goes to the location Maravel gave him to find the thug he saw talking to Kimbolt earlier and some other men.]
MERCENARY: What do you want?
GERALT: I saw you talking to Kimbolt.
MERCENARY: I'm free to go where I please and talk to whoever I please...
GERALT: Couldn't agree more. Now you're here and you'll talk to me. I'm interested in the baron.
MERCENARY: I've naught to say to ye.
GERALT: Not good, 'cause I need to know everything you know about him.
[Kimbolt's men arrive on the scene.]
GARLEN: Baron Kimbolt sends his regards.
MERCENARY: Aww, just what we needed...
GARLEN: Leave us, witcher.
GERALT: Since when does a witcher take orders from a huntsman?
GARLEN: Since that witcher stopped hunting monsters and started poking his nose into others' affairs.
GERALT: Sometimes the stench is so strong you can't help but catch a whiff.
GARLEN: Aye, well spoken. You've some common, stinking thugs here, and I'm to teach them some humility.
MERCENARY: A ponce like you? Pucker up and kiss my arse, you fuckin' tulip.
GERALT: Hm. I wasn't getting much out of them. Do what you will.
GARLEN: These folk have nothing to say to you, understand?
GERALT: I'll be the judge of that.
MERCENARY: Lend us a hand, witcher. You'll not regret it.
GERALT: I'll need to know everything about Kimbolt.
GARLEN: Aww, this is shit! Enough of your jabbering! Kill them all!
[Kimbolt's men attack, and Geralt fights with the blackmailers.]
MERCENARY: Ugh, thanks, witcher. We'd be corpses if not for you.
GERALT: Yeah, seems likely. Now, don't make me regret helping you.
MERCENARY: You're welcome to all we know about Kimbolt.
GERALT: I'm all ears.
MERCENARY: We came here to collect our fee, me and me brothers - for a favor we did the baron.
GERALT: What did you do for him?
MERCENARY: Spent four days in a forest, sitting on our arses.
GERALT: Baron Kimbolt wanted to pay you for that?
MERCENARY: Course not. We was to destroy some wagons in a caravan that was to pass through Millville. Problem is, caravan never came round.
GERALT: I can see why you're having trouble collecting.
MERCENARY: Kimbolt had shite information - how is that our fault? That bugger lost us a right lot of time. And you know what they say - time is coin.
GERALT: What exactly were your orders?
MERCENARY: We was to watch the high road for a caravan carrying nobles - two colored wagons and a small escort. The wagons - they was ours. All inside was to perish.
GERALT: Any idea who was supposed to be in the wagons?
MERCENARY: Two highborn young'uns and their nannies. That's all the baron told us.
GERALT: Willing to tell Natalis all this?
MERCENARY: I'm to fess up? They'd draw and quarter me!
GERALT: You didn't do anything. Took a job - that's it. They can't prove you actually wanted to complete it. If you refuse, Kimbolt wins. He'll squirm his way out of this, but it won't end there. The baron's got gold enough to hunt you till he hunts you down.
MERCENARY: Not likely. I'll see them tear stripes off his back with hot pincers. All right. I'll talk to Natalis.
[Geralt returns to Maravel.]
GERALT: I found the baron's blackmailers.
MARAVEL: And? Did Kimbolt knock up a peasant girl? A healthy one, at least?
GERALT: Unfortunately, it's a national matter, not a personal one.
MARAVEL: May I know its essence? As a statesman, matters pertaining to Temeria are of the utmost concern to me.
GERALT: It looks like Kimbolt hired this group to murder Anaïs and Boussy.
MARAVEL: Thank the gods they were only half successful.
GERALT: Hm. This group didn't kill anyone. The convoy carrying Foltest's children changed course. It never arrived where our blackmailers were waiting.
MARAVEL: I know the baron - he approaches things comprehensively. He must have enlisted a second group, which accomplished the terrible deed.
GERALT: Whichever way you cut it, Kimbolt's a traitor - pure and simple.
MARAVEL: Oh my! Must have hit the old man pretty hard.
GERALT: The baron doesn't know yet.
MARAVEL: What are you waiting for, witcher? Make haste - you must deliver the evidence to the interrex!
GERALT: Actually, I was hoping you'd do that. I need to tend to some other matters.
MARAVEL: Knowing the constable, I fear he would look upon any accusation I made with distaste. He could very well assume I was merely trying to subvert a natural rival. He might see the evidence as doubtful, even fabricated. But we cannot allow a traitor to play an important role during the summit.
GERALT: Yeah, I guess we can't.
MARAVEL: Besides... To witness the fall of the honorable Baron Kimbolt - I don't know if I could bear it...
GERALT: Hm. I gotta admit, Count. Your clearly feigned concern for Kimbolt... Well, it makes me wonder...
MARAVEL: Yes... I suppose it must... Goodbye, witcher.
GERALT: Farewell, Count.
[After collecting his evidence, Geralt goes to see Natalis.]
NATALIS: Roche may trust you, but I'm not so sure. What do you want?
GERALT: Representatives of the Council of Regents - did any come with you?
NATALIS: Only Baron Kimbolt and Count Maravel. The other five remain in Vizima. It seems that save Baron Orvall, most spend their time trying to devise a way to undermine Anaïs' claim to the throne.
GERALT: Kimbolt and Maravel - what's their stance?
NATALIS: They've taken opposing positions, as one might expect.
NATALIS: The baron believes Anaïs' origin, if you will, stands in the way of her taking the throne. Though it's common knowledge that he would simply prefer to seat himself on it. Whereas Maravel has said that Foltest's children have his full support. He stated this in Vizima, before the entire council.
NATALIS: One thing is certain - words come cheap. Those two may change their minds in a flash if Anaïs is found and recovered.
GERALT: Impressive summit, but not all the players have their representatives here.
NATALIS: The most important do. The mages thought about inviting everyone, but time is short.
GERALT: What about Aedirn? It's a huge country.
NATALIS: Torn by conflict and rebellion, with no clear ruler. They're not to be taken seriously at this point.
GERALT: Sounds like the Kaedweni point of view. The Aedirnians see it differently, I'm sure.
GERALT: I've seen a Nilfgaardian delegation.
NATALIS: Scandalous, as I see it. They're here at Henselt's bidding. Before long, he'll be inviting them to his war councils.
GERALT: The mages will want to get as much as they can out of this summit. And monarchs don't generally like others dictating terms. This may end in a row.
NATALIS: There will be no row. The mages now rely on the mercy of the Northern Kingdoms. The amphitheatre itself is also protected by an antimagic shield, like the one used at Thanedd. The times of mage impunity are gone. They will be shown their place.
GERALT: There's a traitor among the Temerians.
NATALIS: Careful, witcher. You'd better have evidence if you plan to accuse someone of treason.
GERALT: Boussy and Anaïs...
NATALIS: Yes?
[Here, if Geralt has followed through on all of the threads of evidence, he can choose to accuse either Kimbolt, Maravel, or both.]
GERALT: Anaïs was kidnapped on Baron Kimbolt's orders.
NATALIS: Have you any proof?
GERALT: A letter I got from Brigida Papebrock.
NATALIS: Dame Papebrock is alive?
GERALT: Yeah, but she's far away by now.
NATALIS: Kimbolt's signature and official seal. It does appear the baron arranged everything. I am grateful to you, witcher.
GERALT: The baron hired a group of thugs. They were supposed to murder both children.
NATALIS: Why then did Boussy alone perish?
GERALT: The convoy changed course. A second group was waiting along the new route. It's possible they decided to take Anaïs hostage, just to be sure they'd get paid.
NATALIS: Have you anything to confirm your claims?
GERALT: One of the thugs I found is ready to testify.
NATALIS: I see. We will hear him out then.
[Natalis and Geralt go to Maravel.]
NATALIS: So you see, Count, I find myself in an unenviable position, one in which I require the support of your forces in arresting Baron Kimbolt.
MARAVEL: Baron Kimbolt, a child slayer... Gods protect us.
NATALIS: Can I rely on you, Count?
MARAVEL: The very thought of standing against a highborn peer fills me with trepidation, but a crime this cruel cannot go unpunished. Consider myself and my forces at your disposal, John Natalis.
[Kimbolt is arrested.]
GERALT: I guess you were glad to see them put Baron Kimbolt in chains.
MARAVEL: It is a triumph, witcher. For Temeria, to be sure, but more importantly for truth. I am delighted you chose to see the matter through - and all Temeria is indebted.
GERALT: Yeah. About that. Any chance you could satisfy that debt, as an elder statesman and all?
MARAVEL: Coin seems so coarse as a means of crowning such an achievement.
GERALT: Can you think of a better means?
MARAVEL: I suppose not... Take this, witcher. I wager you will see it as generous and spend it on something... worthy.
GERALT: I'll try not to disappoint you, Count. Farewell.
MARAVEL: And you, witcher. And you.
GERALT: You have a traitor in your camp, Constable.
NATALIS: I know what the Temerian nobles think of me. They have no love for me and seek to subvert me at every step. And that is how it will stay as long as the throne remains vacant.
GERALT: I'm not talking about you. Count Maravel is responsible for Boussy's death, and for Anaïs landing in Kaedweni hands.
NATALIS: A grave charge, witcher.
GERALT: This letter clearly shows Count Maravel's men ambushed the convoy carrying Foltest's children. The boy was killed during the assault. They kidnapped Anaïs and then handed her over to the Nilfgaardians.
NATALIS: Why? For what amount of gold, for what swathes of land did that tub of lard, dripping with wealth, go so far as to commit treason against the state? I thank you, witcher. You have done us all no small favor, though the count's trial will bring its own share of grief.
[Natalis and Geralt go to Kimbolt.]
NATALIS: That is the state of affairs, Baron. Count Linus Maravel is a traitor. He has betrayed us, he has betrayed Temeria, he has betrayed the entire North.
KIMBOLT: You have at last seen the light, Constable, and I am content. We must show the count that even in this trying hour Temeria remains strong, united.
[Maravel is arrested.]
GERALT: Baron, about that generous reward you mentioned. I'm here to collect.
KIMBOLT: I see I was not wrong about you. A thug for hire, nothing more.
GERALT: Count Maravel outright betrayed Temeria. While Baron Kimbolt planned to murder Foltest's children.
NATALIS: Those are serious charges.
GERALT: Kimbolt hired some thugs to do the wet work for him. I found them, and one's ready to testify.
GERALT: They never got the job done because the convoy carrying the children changed course - only to fall into an ambush set by Maravel. The count wanted to hand Anaïs and Boussy over to the Nilfgaardians. You'll find the proof in this letter. Boussy's death was an accident.
NATALIS: Dark clouds gather over Temeria. I cannot arrest them both. Their contingents are among the largest in Loc Muinne, and I cannot risk mutiny by their men.
NATALIS: Thank you, witcher. You did well to bring this matter to my attention. I only hope Baron Kimbolt will agree to stand with me.
[Natalis and Geralt go to Kimbolt.]
NATALIS: So you see, Baron, I have learned all. And it makes me sick to think about it. However, you may count yourself fortunate, for we've a greater problem to deal with. You shall provide me with your full support as we arrest Count Maravel.
KIMBOLT: This plea sounds more like a threat to me, Constable.
NATALIS: It is no plea, it is an order and yes, a threat. Refuse and the Council of Regents shall receive ample evidence of your crime. Of your wish to slay the children from whom our king gave his life.
KIMBOLT: What are your terms, Natalis?
NATALIS: Upon returning to Vizima, I shall destroy the evidence against you. Prior to that, however, I expect your unconditional support.
KIMBOLT: How can I be certain you will do as you pledge?
NATALIS: My word still means something, unlike yours, you lying, rotting son of a whore.
KIMBOLT: So be it. But heed this, Constable - do not try to cross me.
[Maravel is arrested.]
[Geralt can either assist Roche with retrieving Anaïs, or he can go rescue Triss. If he chooses Triss, he overhears Shilard talking to a soldier outside the Nilfgaardian camp.]
SHILARD: You are to guard the camp like it's the Emperor's treasure.
SOLDIER: Yes, Your Excellency.
SHILARD: Let so much as a flea slip through, and you shall pay with your heads.
SHILARD: Look who's here... the Rivian witcher...
GERALT: Greetings.
SHILARD: Our paths cross often, it seems.
GERALT: Too often.
SHILARD: What do you seek here?
GERALT: Nothing I can tell you about.
SHILARD: Begone then.
GERALT: Triss Merigold.
SHILARD: In the Nilfgaardian camp? Fisstech has addled your brain.
[Geralt takes Shilard hostage.]
GERALT: A- ah! Lower your sword, son.
SHILARD: You've got cheek, Geralt.
GERALT: Let's go.
GERALT: One false move and your ambassador will never see Nilfgaard's sun again.
SHILARD: My men won't let you leave here alive.
GERALT: They will if you ask them to, Excellency. And I believe you will.
SHILARD: Renuald aep Matsen's orders come from the Emperor himself. He'd rather die than give you Merigold.
GERALT: Then he'll die.
SHILARD: No, mark my words, you will. Unless you release me. It's not too late.
GERALT: You're boring me. Pick up the pace.
SHILARD: Why do you care for that sorceress so much?
GERALT: Go.
SHILARD: Are you in love with her? A poor choice, even for you.
GERALT: That cuts no ice with me.
[Geralt and Shilard enter the camp.]
GERALT: Out of the way, all of you! Or the old man dies.
RENUALD: Hold there!
GERALT: I'm not joking.
RENUALD: I know, and I advise you not to hesitate! Kill him, for we shan't move one bit!
SHILARD: Renuald...
RENUALD: He who brings me the witcher's head will get the Order of Merit.
SOLDIER: But... Ambassador Fitz-Oesterlen...
RENUALD: Your Excellency, hm... Orders from the capital...
[Renuald shoots Shilard.]
GERALT: Now I'll have to kill you all.
RENUALD: What are you waiting for? Get him.
[Geralt defeats the Nilfgaardians.]
GERALT: The gate's closed. There must be another way in...
[Geralt climbs a nearby ladder onto the tops of the walls and goes around. He drops down and fights through Renuald's soldiers.]
RENUALD: Congratulations, witcher. They were my best men.
GERALT: You should have picked them more carefully. Or trained them better.
RENUALD: Or perhaps they were ready for any foe but you...?
GERALT: Free Triss or join them.
RENUALD: You amaze me. How can you risk your life for a witch?
GERALT: There are things you and your kind will never comprehend.
RENUALD: And what are those?
GERALT: Friendship.
RENUALD: Tell me, is the friendship of traitors and conspirators worth it?
GERALT: Let's just say we're close.
RENUALD: I knew it - you're in love with her. You wouldn't risk your neck otherwise. But you don't know everything about her.
GERALT: She has information that's very important to me.
RENUALD: Ah, that I understand. You're exceptionally reasonable for a Nordling.
GERALT: Thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that.
RENUALD: It should. Because I, in turn, have information about her which you may find interesting.
GERALT: What are you talking about?
RENUALD: Your friend and the other witches conspired against your rulers.
GERALT: You lie.
RENUALD: You think it impossible?
GERALT: Triss was loyal to the crown...
RENUALD: You're a fool. That's what happens when tits take over a man's mind.
GERALT: How do you know that?
RENUALD: From the best possible source. She confessed.
GERALT: And how did you convince her to do that?
RENUALD: By showing her the confessions of other Lodge members.
GERALT: I don't believe you.
RENUALD: That's irrelevant at this point. During our chat, my people managed to regroup, call for reinforcements.
GERALT: Maybe now they'll start fighting like men.
RENUALD: Time to show you the Empire's true power!
[As they talked, reinforcements arrived. Geralt fights through the additional soldiers and kills Renuald, taking the prison keys from his body. He finds Triss in the dungeons, and unchains her from the wall.]
TRISS: Geralt...?
GERALT: Didn't expect to see me?
TRISS: Are you kidding? The only person you expect to see in a Nilfgaardian dungeon is the executioner.
GERALT: Did they torture you?
TRISS: They tried various... things, but they got nothing from me.
GERALT: When I left Flotsam with Vernon, I somehow doubted I'd find you so soon.
TRISS: I know it was hard on you. I'll never forget this, you hear? Never...
GERALT: I'd slaughter half the Nilfgaardian army for a friend.
GERALT: I know you're a member of the Lodge, Triss.
TRISS: How do you know of the Lodge?
GERALT: Does it matter? I also know the Lodge was behind Demavend's assassination.
TRISS: Geralt, I...
GERALT: I trust you.
GERALT: Couldn't you ask your friends from the Lodge for help?
TRISS: How do you know of the Lodge?
GERALT: I just do. Listen, Triss... To come here for you, I had to split up with Vernon. Temeria is in danger of disintegrating...
TRISS: Are you sorry you chose to come here?
GERALT: No, I'm not. But freeing you from Shilard's grasp was not my only reason for coming here. I need you to explain your role in this mess. And to explain why you lied to me.
TRISS: That's not true!
GERALT: I know about the Lodge. I know the Lodge was behind Demavend's assassination. I know Triss Merigold is a member of the Lodge.
TRISS: It's not like that...
GERALT: Show me the error in my reasoning.
TRISS: True, I'm a member of the Lodge. Just like eight other sorceresses. But if you think I'm responsible for the Lodge's actions, you're badly mistaken. The Lodge is a theater for two actresses. Síle and Philippa have long dominated it.
GERALT: To the point where you didn't know about the murder they planned?
TRISS: To the point where I was no longer invited to gatherings.
GERALT: Why?
TRISS: They stopped trusting me.
GERALT: Because you didn't agree with them?
TRISS: Nine women very rarely agree on anything. The actual problem was that...
GERALT: Tell me...
TRISS: I was close to you. If Síle fears anyone, it's Geralt of Rivia... The Lodge did everything to convince me that our relationship didn't bother them, even that it suited them. But they manipulated me. Through me, they fed you select information. Depending on the circumstances, they twisted facts.
GERALT: We're still close. They could still be doing it.
TRISS: Don't insult me.
GERALT: I'd say the same thing in your place.
TRISS: I'm telling you the truth!
GERALT: You have no idea how much I want to believe you. But you've lied once. Why wouldn't you do it again?
TRISS: I never lied to you... I just didn't tell you everything...
GERALT: How is that not lying?
TRISS: I didn't know the truth! I had suspicions, that's all, and once I was finally certain... It was too late. I can prove everything.
GERALT: Calm down, Triss. Renuald aep Matsen claimed otherwise, but I'll always take your word over that of some Nilfgaardian lowlife's.
GERALT: Now, you'll tell me everything you know. I need to learn the truth.
TRISS: All existing councils of mages disintegrated after the Thanedd massacre. We all acted separately. Philippa decided to create a new organization. A secret one this time. When I was sworn in, it never crossed my mind that the Lodge's plans would soon become secret to its members. As you know, Philippa's not one for minor undertakings. She presented a plan for creating a powerful state controlled by sorceresses.
GERALT: No wonder the kings are opposing the sorceresses. Nobody likes a schemer.
GERALT: The best laid schemes of mages and men...
TRISS: Philippa and Síle never lacked ideas or enthusiasm. To control a powerful state, they needed to create one first. Or find a wealthy land with a suitable political arrangement and an easily manipulated ruler. Síle chose the Pontar Valley... Demavend... And Stennis...
GERALT: Demavend hated mages.
TRISS: No more than Henselt or Radovid. Síle and Philippa saw Demavend as the weakest ruler. His son, Stennis, blows hot and cold... Plus, he who controls the Pontar Valley, controls the North. So, it was in Aedirn that a popular rebel emerged preaching the idea of a new state.
GERALT: I'd choose the same if I were her. Demavend didn't have a network of spies anywhere near as good as Henselt's or Radovid's.
TRISS: Nor could he count on the loyalty of such men as our dear Vernon Roche.
TRISS: At one of our meetings, I just asked how they imagined overthrowing Demavend. That was the last time I was invited. After Demavend's death I became suspicious, but had no evidence. Philippa brushed me off.
TRISS: When you went off to meet Iorveth and Síle was busy with the kayran's carcass, I managed to scan parts of her megascope. That's when I learned that Síle had dealings with Letho.
GERALT: Why didn't you tell me?
TRISS: I wanted to! But we never met after that!
GERALT: If only I'd learned that, everything could've been different.
TRISS: Letho must have shadowed me when I entered Síle's room. Then he forced me to teleport us to somewhere near Vergen.
GERALT: Did you talk to him?
TRISS: He wasn't aggressive. In Vergen he told me that Síle commissioned them to assassinate Demavend. Them being the witchers of the School of the Viper. Síle helped them prepare the assassination.
GERALT: I wonder why he told you about it.
TRISS: Is that important?
GERALT: Conspirators who suddenly divulge everything? I'd be suspicious.
TRISS: There was some interference as we teleported to Aedirn. I emerged intact, but pretty battered. I knew Philippa was in the area. I decided to go see her and lay my cards on the table.
GERALT: Maybe Letho wanted just that...
TRISS: I met a woman at Philippa's house. Thought she was just a servant, or Philippa's lover. Before I could speak, I was overpowered by spells. I hardly expected an attack...
TRISS: The pain I felt as my body was compressed, it's indescribable. As if all my bones were being broken... It's even worse when you return to your true form. In any case, Philippa had no idea her lover was a Nilfgaardian spy. I was carried as that figurine all the way to Loc Muinne. Assire decompressed me back, just before they murdered her.
TRISS: Shilard interrogated me, but learned nothing. If it wasn't for you... They'd have had me quartered. I didn't piece the puzzle together until I was here, in the dungeon. Now you know everything.
GERALT: Did Saskia know the Lodge's plans?
TRISS: She didn't even know the Lodge existed. Philippa told her that the sorceresses would support an independent state in the Pontar Valley, no strings attached. A fairytale, but Saskia bought it. Saskia backed Philippa, and the people backed Saskia.
GERALT: Who had Foltest assassinated?
TRISS: I have no idea. Perhaps after Demavend's successful assassination, Síle and Philippa decided to take the next step.
GERALT: That would be stupid. Killing Demavend was a way to take control of the Pontar Valley. People would forget the regicide in a year, and the Lodge could put it's plan in motion. They had to know that if Foltest died, men like Roche wouldn't rest until they learned why that had happened.
TRISS: One thing is certain. Letho killed Foltest. And Síle was working with Letho.
GERALT: Ever find out what Síle was actually doing in Flotsam? I find it hard to believe she went there just to kill a monster and earn a few orens.
TRISS: You're right, of course. It had something to do with Letho and the Scoia'tael.
GERALT: What did she want from Iorveth?
TRISS: The Scoia'tael were Saskia's trump card. I expect Síle needed to know what the elves would do given that a war with Henselt was practically inevitable.
GERALT: That'll have to do for now.
TRISS: We'll learn more at the talks.
GERALT: You're going to attend?
TRISS: You have no memory of how the world worked before the Thanedd massacre.
GERALT: Actually, I know exactly how it worked.
TRISS: That means...
GERALT: We'll talk about my memory later.
TRISS: All right...
TRISS: If the Council and Conclave still existed, kings wouldn't be assassinated and massacres would be less frequent. This is our chance to restore these institutions and we shouldn't miss it. Normalizing relations between the rulers and the mages who advise them is our only chance for peace.
GERALT: And our only chance to dismantle the Lodge.
TRISS: The Lodge will disintegrate anyway. Once the kings learn it was behind the assassinations, they'll start a witch hunt. We can prevent that from happening. I'm all for punishing the guilty, but can't abide collective responsibility. I'm ready to go and reveal everything I know about Philippa Eilhart, Síle de Tansarville, and their schemes.
GERALT: Let's go, then.
TRISS: Those Nilfgaardians... that's your work?
GERALT: They followed their leader too blindly.
TRISS: You killed them all?
GERALT: They didn't slaughter themselves.
[Geralt and Triss exit the Nilfgaardian camp.]
TRISS: We shouldn't arrive at the same time. Let's split up.
GERALT: Triss...
TRISS: Yes?
GERALT: That was some mess. I wouldn't want to see you hurt like that again.
GERALT: The Lodge remembers, too.
TRISS: Rest assured, I won't let anyone compress me again.
GERALT: Some of the sorceresses will be surprised to see you. Watch them closely.
TRISS: Don't worry, I'll manage. See you at the talks.
GERALT: All right.
[Continues with A Summit of Mages (Triss).]
[Geralt can either assist Roche with retrieving Anaïs, or he can go rescue Triss. If he chooses Roche, he meets him in the town square.]
ROCHE: Can we go?
GERALT: Brigida Papebrock - she gave me some pretty good leads.
ROCHE: Tell me.
GERALT: Baron Kimbolt hired some thugs to murder the royal bastards.
ROCHE: Son of a bitch. Foltest never trusted him. Turns out he was right not to.
GERALT: It was Count Maravel who kidnapped Anaïs. He wanted to hand both children over to the Nilfgaardians, but Boussy was killed.
ROCHE: Damn it all. Radovid is one thing, but Nilfgaard? When I get my hands on Maravel...
GERALT: Natalis arrested the baron. Kimbolt will be tried in Vizima.
GERALT: You won't. Natalis arrested the count with Baron Kimbolt's support. Maravel will be tried in Vizima.
GERALT: You won't. I delivered the evidence against both of them to Natalis, but the constable decided to ask Kimbolt for help and arrested Maravel.
ROCHE: Wise. There will come a time for Kimbolt as well, but Maravel needed to be removed immediately. A traitor is a traitor.
ROCHE: They should take off his head.
GERALT: Let's do this.
ROCHE: Dethmold is a dead man.
GERALT: I'm guessing you don't have a plan...
ROCHE: In fact, I do. We need to kill Dethmold and rescue the royal child.
GERALT: You never did like playing it by ear.
ROCHE: I learned from the best.
[Geralt and Roche enter the sewers under Loc Muinne.]
GUARD 1: See that? Dethmold's put up that magic barrier again. Apparently, not a single sound seeps through.
GUARD 2: I dread to think what he's doing inside...
[Geralt and Roche approach the gate.]
GUARD 1: Why are you here!?
ROCHE: We have business with Dethmold.
GUARD 2: The sorcerer is busy. No one's to disturb him!
GERALT: Recognize me?
GUARD 1: Should we?
GERALT: Course you should! Unless you don't care about being promoted.
GUARD 1: Huh? Who are you?
GERALT: Now!
[Geralt and Roche yank the guards forward and knock them out against the gate, stealing their keys and entering. Roche locks the door behind them.]
ROCHE: This is my banquet. I don't want any unwanted guests.
GERALT: More are bound to arrive soon.
ROCHE: Well, let them come.
ROCHE: Quickly, up top!
[The wall above has two arbalists, who fire on Roche and Geralt; Geralt deflects the bolts, and Roche takes out one arbalist by throwing his sword. Geralt boosts Roche's flying leap, sending him up over the wall, where he dispatches the other arbalist.]
ROCHE: The low road's yours, I'll take the walls.
[Geralt fights his way through some Kaedweni soldiers, dodging balls of lightning from Dethmold's apprentice, who vanishes into a portal when he approaches.]
ROCHE: You were better off making hay, bumpkin!
ROCHE: We're doing well, Geralt!
[Geralt and Roche dispatch Dethmold's men and attack his apprentice. When the mage falls, the fiery barrier into Dethmold's basement evaporates.]
ROCHE: What's he doing in there?
GERALT: Sounds like he's awfully busy.
ROCHE: Rude as it is, I'll have to interrupt.
ROCHE: Strangely quiet in here...
GERALT: I can hear him. Dethmold's here and he's not alone.
[In the basement is Anaïs, trapped behind a magical barrier, and (if Henselt is dead) Henselt's corpse, laid out on a bower.]
[In the other room Dethmold is grooming himself, while a half-naked man lays on his bed.]
DETHMOLD: Tam, taram, tam, tam...
DETHMOLD: Did you see Radovid's retinue? I swear the snot-nose lad thinks he's king of the world. He should never have shown up here after the recent events in Redania.
DETHMOLD: Honestly, if he grows to be another Vizimir, I hope he ends up like the first. And those robes of his, did you see?
DETHMOLD: Ah, all right... there's time for one more. Pants off.
[Geralt and Roche burst in. Roche attacks immediately, striking Dethmold on the arm.]
DETHMOLD: Ahh... Arghhh! You've broken my arm! Do you know its worth, you son of a bitch?!
ROCHE: Now it's worth shit, like the rest of you.
DETHMOLD: What do you want?... I'll give you anything.
ROCHE: You can't give back what you took from me. Cutting off your balls and slitting your throat will have to do.
DETHMOLD: No... Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!
ROCHE: You reap what you sow.
ROCHE: Time to free Foltest's daughter.
[Geralt and Roche run back to the cell. Dethmold's barrier has disintegrated.]
ROCHE: Are you all right? I am Vernon Roche of Temeria. This is Witcher Geralt.
GERALT: She's terrified.
ROCHE: If Dethmold touched her, I'll kill the son of a bitch all over again.
GERALT: What'll you do with the child, Vernon?
ROCHE: I made an arrangement with Radovid. And Vernon Roche always keeps to his word.
GERALT: So be it. Let's go.
ROCHE: Don't be afraid. I was your father's soldier. I'll not let anyone harm you...
GERALT: Kings only keep their promises when it suits them.
ROCHE: We saw him together. You heard what he said.
GERALT: You didn't have Anaïs then. Now you do. Take a minute - consider your options.
ROCHE: I'm a soldier, not a diplomat.
GERALT: Well, you need to start thinking like a diplomat. You're about to decide Temeria's future.
GERALT: Do you trust Radovid?
ROCHE: I want to believe kings don't generally spout nonsense.
GERALT: Kings never say what they mean, only what they want you to hear.
GERALT: What else could you do?
ROCHE: Nothing. I either break my pledge to Radovid or honor it.
GERALT: Suppose you break it?
ROCHE: I'll make another enemy.
GERALT: Enemies are something you can handle - you said so yourself. The Temerian delegation is in Loc Muinne, maybe we should consider handing the child over to them.
ROCHE: John Natalis... Good soldier, poor politician.
GERALT: Natalis may not be the most polished diplomat, but both your grandmothers tilled the same soil, your grandfathers fought side by side.
ROCHE: By taking the child to John Natalis, I'll spark a civil war. The barons won't acknowledge her right to the throne until they feel a boot on their neck.
GERALT: I don't claim giving her to the Temerians will solve all your problems. But freedom's precious, Vernon - one of those things you don't appreciate until it's gone... Consider what they'll say in Temeria when they hear Vernon Roche handed their crown princess to the head of a foreign state?
ROCHE: If Radovid keeps to his word, they just might name a holiday after me.
GERALT: Careful, Vernon. It's a slippery slope. You could easily be branded a traitor, and brands are tough to scrub off.
ROCHE: I guess you're right. Dishonored I’ll be no one - not in Temeria, not anywhere else. Natalis it is.
ROCHE: Come, child. I'll take you to a safe place.
GERALT: I don't doubt Radovid will bring the Temerian barons in line. Question is, will he stop there?
ROCHE: It's risky, I know. But when I'm to choose between civil war and an uncertain alliance with Redania, I choose the latter.
GERALT: A war where brother stands against brother is a curse.
ROCHE: The child will go to Radovid.
ROCHE: Come, Anaïs. I'll take you to a safe place.
GERALT: Temeria's got a mess to clear, but in its own backyard. The neighbors needn't help.
ROCHE: You've convinced me. Radovid will have to consolidate his power without me.
ROCHE: Come, child. I'll take you to a safe place.
GERALT: What would Radovid gain by allowing Temeria to remain independent?
ROCHE: Well, he married the eldest of Foltest's daughters and will wait until she bears him a child... in which case he'll marry Anaïs off to one of his barons. If Adda fails to produce an heir... he'll rid himself of her.
ROCHE: He'll marry Anaïs and unite the two kingdoms.
GERALT: Anaïs is not of age.
ROCHE: But she will be! The kingdoms united could even resist Nilfgaard.
GERALT: Anaïs won't don the crown anytime soon. A lot could happen in the meantime, a lot could change.
ROCHE: True enough, but you can't predict everything.
GERALT: Still, it might be worth trying.
[Continues the same as "Stop and think - what else can you do?"]
GERALT: The armies of Redania and Temeria combined would indeed be a great force.
ROCHE: And so it will be!
GERALT: If you have no doubts, then...
ROCHE: I see no one else who could ensure her safety in this chaos. I cannot put her on the Temerian throne myself.
GERALT: Then go see Radovid.
ROCHE: Come, Anaïs. I'll take you to a safe place.
GERALT: Are you sure that force won't turn against Temeria?
ROCHE: Geralt, the choice is simple. I either give the child to Radovid or to the Temerian delegation. True, there's always the risk that Radovid's lying. There's no guarantee he'll keep to his word. But this is our chance to preserve Temeria's independence.
GERALT: It'll become a Redanian protectorate.
ROCHE: But in one piece. As a full member of the Council of Northern Realms. If I give Anaïs to the Temerians, at least as many will oppose her being crowned as will support it. She's not of age and born out of wedlock - the debates will go on forever. This is more than mere politics, Geralt. Passions are at play and that could mean civil war.
GERALT: A war where brother stands against brother is a curse.
ROCHE: The child will go to Radovid.
ROCHE: Come, Anaïs. I'll take you to a safe place.
GERALT: Temeria's got a mess to clear, but in its own backyard. The neighbors needn't help.
ROCHE: You've convinced me. Radovid will have to consolidate his power without me.
ROCHE: Come, child. I'll take you to a safe place.
[As Geralt, Roche, and Anaïs exit the basement, knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose arrive.]
GERALT: Hm, looks like someone's provided an escort.
ROCHE: We need that like we need an axe in the head.
GERALT: It could be worse. Siegfried's here.
ORDER KNIGHT: In the name of King Radovid, we demand that you hand over the child of Louisa La Valette.
SIEGFRIED: You got out of the Kaedweni camp intact - not an easy feat.
GERALT: Practice makes perfect. It's good to see you, Siegfried.
SIEGFRIED: King Radovid is impatient to see Louisa La Valette's child.
ROCHE: You mean King Foltest's daughter.
ROCHE: He'll have to wait a little longer...
SIEGFRIED: What do you mean by that?
GERALT: We're taking the child to the Temerian camp. That's where she belongs.
SIEGFRIED: Radovid's orders are clear...
GERALT: What if I ask you to forget those orders, bearing in mind our... past?
SIEGFRIED: I didn't see you...
GERALT: Because we were never here.
ROCHE: Thank you, Grand Master.
SIEGFRIED: Get to work, brethren! I want this battleground searched thoroughly.
ORDER KNIGHT: Aye, sir!
ROCHE: Time we were on our way.
GERALT: We're headed elsewhere.
ORDER KNIGHT: Not my concern. My orders are clear.
ROCHE: We are not Radovid's subjects. His orders don't apply to us.
ORDER KNIGHT: If you won't come peacefully...
ROCHE: Look around before you threaten us again, you fool.
ROCHE: Anaïs, hide in the building!
[Geralt and Roche kill the knights of the Order.]
GERALT: So, to the Temerian camp?
ROCHE: We've lost a lot of time. The talks have probably begun.
ROCHE: Come, child.
[Geralt, Roche, and Anaïs make their way out of Dethmold's camp.]
ROCHE: At least that scumbag is no longer among the living.
GERALT: Only I know who killed Henselt. Dethmold's different. Remember, he had many powerful friends.
ROCHE: As head of the special forces, I've always had powerful foes. Somehow, I manage to deal with them.
GERALT: Henselt will want to avenge his dead sorcerer.
ROCHE: Henselt hates me anyway, for humiliating him when he was in my hands. I'm never short of enemies. I've learned to live with it.
GERALT: You never know how the Temerians will receive Anaïs.
ROCHE: She's of royal blood... That should be enough.
GERALT: Many in Temeria believe the bloodline ended with Foltest.
ROCHE: What are you trying to tell me?
GERALT: That some of your countrymen may already see themselves as the founders of a new dynasty.
ROCHE: If you want to find me, I'll be at the talks.
GERALT: See you, Vernon.
SIEGFRIED: You got out of the Kaedweni camp intact - not an easy feat.
GERALT: Practice makes perfect. It's good to see you, Siegfried.
SIEGFRIED: King Radovid is impatient to see Louisa La Valette's child.
ROCHE: You mean King Foltest's daughter.
ROCHE: Pity he didn't help us rescue her from Dethmold's grasp.
SIEGFRIED: The King of Redania could hardly be accused of breaking a covenant during a peace summit. Besides, we had a problem with the gate.
ROCHE: In that case you were helpful after all. I lost the key.
GERALT: Shame you didn't show up earlier.
ORDER KNIGHT: Pay heed to whom you're talking.
ROCHE: Pay heed to the corpses of those who were impolite to us.
ORDER KNIGHT: You're lucky Radovid told us to stay calm.
ROCHE: I'll be sure to thank him personally for that.
[Geralt and Roche go with the Knights of the Order.]
GERALT: Beware of Radovid, Vernon.
ROCHE: Rest assured, I'd never forgive myself if the heiress to Foltest's throne came to any harm.
GERALT: Don't ever take your eyes off her. I wouldn't be surprised to learn Radovid had a hand in Boussy's death.
ROCHE: Anything's possible. Anaïs is Temeria's last chance for ultimate independence. Freedom will come, sooner or later.
SIEGFRIED: What are you plotting?
ROCHE: We're exchanging fencing tips.
SIEGFRIED: Ah. Speaking of which, how was your meeting with Dethmold?
ROCHE: Profitable for me, though he lost his family jewels.
GERALT: Suppose Radovid asks you to serve the Redanian crown?
ROCHE: Not impossible. What would you suggest?
GERALT: I always advise caution when dealing with kings.
ROCHE: Funny, I've always had the upper hand when dealing with them.
SIEGFRIED: The Redanian colors would suit you, Vernon.
ROCHE: I'll think about it.
SIEGFRIED: What are your plans now, Geralt?
GERALT: I have unfinished business.
GERALT: Plan to serve Radovid now?
ROCHE: Ha-ha. Henselt won't have me. Temeria is all I care about. I'll serve it best under Radovid.
[The party reaches the exit of the sewers.]
ROCHE: I'm off to the talks. I'll wait for you there.
SIEGFRIED: So long, Geralt. I hope we'll meet again soon.
GERALT: I'll try to make it.
ROCHE: I can breathe easier now that the scumbag is dead.
GERALT: Revenge unburdens you of your past, but it also affects your future.
[Continues in A Summit of Mages (Roche).]
[Geralt meets Triss outside the amphitheatre.]
TRISS: We are about to witness a great event.
GERALT: Wait for me.
TRISS: Whatever it is, make it quick.
GERALT: Yeah, I can't wait. Let's go inside.
TRISS: It's now or never...
[Inside the amphitheatre, Natalis is speaking.]
NATALIS: In recent weeks, we have deliberated extensively in Vizima on who is to succeed to the Temerian throne.
NATALIS: Because the fate of Foltest's last child remains unknown, we could not reach an agreement.
NATALIS: Unable to reconcile the interests of the esteemed Temerian houses, we have no choice but to divide the country into provinces along the baronies' current borders.
RADOVID: This cannot be, John Natalis. Temeria stands between Nilfgaard and the North. It must be a strong and united realm.
NATALIS: I, too, would wish it so, Your Majesty, but when Foltest was cut down by an assassin, the country's very heart burst.
RADOVID: I have learned that Anaïs La Valette is currently in the hands of the sorcerer Dethmold.
NATALIS: Clearly you have yet to learn of the slaughter that occurred today in the Kaedweni camp, King Radovid.
RADOVID: Yet there is hope if the child lives.
NATALIS: I shall do everything in my power to find her.
NATALIS: Simultaneously, I wish to announce that the commander of the Temerian Special Forces, one Vernon Roche, is officially a wanted man. All privileges appertaining to him as an officer of the realm are hereby repealed.
RADOVID: I hasten to remind you that Vernon Roche, his capture, is also your responsibility.
RADOVID: He is suspected of murdering King Henselt soon after the monarch's triumph in Vergen. As a Temerian soldier, Roche remains under your jurisdiction, Natalis.
NATALIS: Vernon Roche disappeared with his unit a few days after the successful siege of La Valette Castle. Should he reappear in Temeria, he shall be arrested and tried as the law prescribes.
[Geralt and Triss arrive and descend into the amphitheatre. Carduin, a mage who was a Council member at Thanedd, is the main spokesperson for the potential new Conclave.]
CARDUIN: To the matter at hand. The document describing the charter of the Council and the Conclave is, as previously ascertained, an exact copy of the charter found in the ruins on Thanedd island.
CARDUIN: The more important question relates to the Conclave and its power to designate royal advisors. Today, randomly chosen mages and sorceresses reside at many courts. However, in the time of the previous Conclave, such persons were carefully chosen.
RADOVID: Why shouldn't we pick our own advisors?
CARDUIN: These individuals bear great responsibility, Your Majesty. The Conclave needs to be certain they are competent.
RADOVID: And that they will keep the Conclave's interests in mind.
CARDUIN: Obviously, Sire. The Conclave's chief interest is the well-being and prosperity of the Northern Kingdoms. The document has been signed by every member of the Conclave we have proposed, as well as by all but one of the designated advisors. We await only Síle de Tansarville's signature...
RADOVID: Without our royal seals you shall be allowed to designate advisors to cowherds at most.
CARDUIN: That is true, Your Majesty.
[Triss confronts Carduin.]
TRISS: Síle de Tansarville should never be allowed to sign this document.
CARDUIN: Triss Merigold. You decided to join us after all...
TRISS: De Tansarville has royal blood on her hands. She can't sit on the Conclave.
SÍLE: That is a lie!
RADOVID: Have you anything to support these claims, Merigold?
TRISS: There are witnesses who will confirm that Síle de Tansarville was behind the assassinations of Demavend and Foltest.
RADOVID: Officials of the future Council and Conclave, Síle de Tansarville should be arrested and tried. If Triss Merigold speaks the truth, Lady de Tansarville will be condemned to death.
[Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose march down into the amphitheatre, menacing Síle with weapons.]
CARDUIN: Síle de Tansarville. Until Triss Merigold's charges are dismissed or refuted, you cannot sit on the Conclave.
RADOVID: Arrest her.
SÍLE: You don't know the whole truth! Merigold doesn't know what she's talking about!
[Síle raises her hands. A growl sounds, and a dragon descends on the amphitheatre, flaming the knights. The dragon picks Síle up and carries her away, safely to the top of a tower, then takes flight again.]
TRISS: Geralt! We're trapped! Magic's no good here! I can't get us out!
TRISS: Síle! You have to get Síle!
[Continues in Enter the Dragon.]
[Geralt heads towards the talks. If Henselt is alive, before he reaches the amphitheatre, he runs into an Aedirnian knight.]
KNIGHT: Swiving son of a cunt! His cocksucking motherfucking majesty!!!
GERALT: Excuse me?
KNIGHT: Oh, ugh. Pardon me, sir. I meant no offense.
GERALT: Mhm. You're leaving the deliberations. Why?
KNIGHT: Henselt! He's to have all Aedirn! We're to live in a Kaedweni yoke... Scandalous!
GERALT: No one opposed him?
KNIGHT: None! Radovid drools for Temeria and will let that lout have anything in exchange. The North will never be the same again. I must return home. Farewell.
[Geralt meets Roche at the entrance to the amphitheatre. Anaïs is with him, playing in the stones.]
ROCHE: This will be a great moment. Ready?
GERALT: Let's get this done.
GERALT: I'll be back soon.
ROCHE: Remember, Temeria's fate hangs in the balance.
[Inside the amphitheatre, Natalis is speaking.]
NATALIS: Temeria is internally divided. As Constable of Temeria, I'm in no position to speak for the whole country regarding the Council and the Conclave.
NATALIS: I am honored to speak on Temeria's behalf before this esteemed body... But I'm only the Constable. I cannot be sure some baron won't cancel my signature in a week.
RADOVID: What's your point, Constable?
NATALIS: I lack my country's support regarding the Council and the Conclave. Neither do I intend to seek the crown, for I've lesser blood in my veins... And, as a soldier, I know my place in the ranks.
NATALIS: In recent weeks, we have deliberated extensively in Vizima on who is to succeed to the Temerian throne. Because the fate of Foltest's last child remains unknown, we could not reach an agreement.
NATALIS: Unable to reconcile the interests of the esteemed Temerian houses, we have no choice but to divide the country into provinces along the baronies' current borders.
HENSELT: Well said, John Natalis! Temeria, the realm separating the North from Emhyr var Emreis, and most importantly from his armies, is divided. And weak. Yet this land deserves law and order, which cannot be provided by the quarrelling rabble spoilt by Foltest's generosity!
HENSELT: Incessant wars between Temerian princelings are not in Kaedwen's interest. Too many important trade routes run through the land.
RADOVID: Redania will also take no comfort from unrest in Temeria. Therefore we cannot leave the realm to its own devices.
NATALIS: Temeria is an independent state, well able to resolve its own problems. You seek to tear Foltest's legacy to pieces! Appropriate what was never meant to be yours!
HENSELT: Calm down, John Natalis. We will speak of that in due course - once we know with whom. As you said yourself, you cannot speak for all of Temeria.
[Here the paths split depending on who Roche and Geralt decided to give Anaïs to.]
RADOVID: The North cannot afford a divided Temeria. Everyone knows what that will lead to. In a few years, the barons will be at each others' throats. No. A united Temeria means control of the western Pontar. A divided Temeria is an open highway for Nilfgaardian troops. The choice is simple.
NATALIS: Simple for you, perhaps, King, but to guard my henhouse, I prefer five lame Temerian mutts to one healthy, beautiful Redanian hound.
RADOVID: I understand the drama your country now faces, John Natalis, but the solution you propose is unacceptable.
RADOVID: Constable Natalis is right after all. Temeria must endure as a strong kingdom.
NATALIS: That is not the kingdom I had in mind.
RADOVID: Yet that is the kingdom that will be. Ruled over by myself... and a virgin of Foltest's blood.
HENSELT: You stole the child?!
RADOVID: Little girls need to be looked after, King.
HENSELT: Noble attendees, I need to stress that the King of Redania, present here... has ploughed me without tallow!
HENSELT: I am checkmated, though I'll be damned if this is the last time our pawns meet on the chessboard. Next time, I shall be much the wiser.
RADOVID: These are hard times. Foltest's death has complicated matters, but we cannot allow the realm that is the Shield of the North to plunge into chaos.
[Geralt, Roche, and Anaïs enter the amphitheatre and begin to descend the steps down to where the deliberation is taking place.]
RADOVID: Temeria will become Redania's protectorate. You will hail me, Radovid, as your king.
NATALIS: Even if you guarantee the kingdom remains united and separate, the Temerian nobility will never acquiesce to any limitations on sovereignty...
RADOVID: The nobles will change their minds when they learn who is to be my future bride.
[Geralt and Roche bring Anaïs to Radovid.]
RADOVID: Allow me to introduce her... the future Lady of Tretogor, the Queen of Redania - Anaïs.
NATALIS: Anaïs La Valette! How...?
RADOVID: She was rescued from the hands of the sorcerer Dethmold, whose business in Loc Muinne is shrouded in mystery.
RADOVID: Remember who sits at my side in Tretogor. Adda, Foltest's daughter.
NATALIS: All Temerians remember that, Your Majesty. They also know that Foltest's other daughter is still alive. A girl all the people of Vizima will look upon more favorably. [Geralt and Roche bring Anaïs to Radovid.]
RADOVID: Behold, Anaïs, the child you seek.
NATALIS: Anaïs La Valette! How...?
RADOVID: She was rescued from the hands of the sorcerer Dethmold, whose business in Loc Muinne is shrouded in mystery.
RADOVID: She will remain under my protection until she comes of age. Then, should Temeria will it, you can have your queen. Until then, Anaïs will live in Tretogor.
RADOVID: We will speak of this later, John Natalis. After all, we have not come here to crown children.
GERALT: Do you think the child will ever sit on the Temerian throne?
ROCHE: Everything is in Radovid's hands. We prevented the kingdom from being divided, that's the most important thing.
[An Order Knight puts out his hand to Anaïs; she takes it, and he leads her away.]
[Geralt, Roche, and Anaïs enter the amphitheatre and begin to descend the steps down to where the deliberation is taking place.]
NATALIS: Noble attendees. I ask you to forget the words I uttered mere moments ago.
NATALIS: Before you begin skinning a bear that still breathes, King Radovid, King Henselt...
[Roche brings Anaïs to Natalis' side.]
NATALIS: Behold, Anaïs La Valette. Royal blood courses through her veins. She is the rightful heir to the Temerian throne.
RADOVID: This child is a bastard.
NATALIS: The girl will go to Vizima where she will be presented to the nobility. She is yet too young to rule, but our laws of succession make provision for such cases.
GERALT: Do you think the child will ever sit on the Temerian throne?
ROCHE: Natalis won't let her be harmed. We did all we could.
[A Temerian soldier puts out his hand to Anaïs; she takes it, and he and leads her away]
CARDUIN: To the matter at hand. The document describing the charter of the Council and the Conclave is, as previously ascertained, an exact copy of the charter found in the ruins on Thanedd island.
CARDUIN: The more important question relates to the Conclave and its power to designate royal advisors. Today, randomly chosen mages and sorceresses reside at many courts. However, in the time of the previous Conclave, such persons were carefully chosen.
RADOVID: Why shouldn't we pick our own advisors?
CARDUIN: These individuals bear great responsibility, Your Majesty. The Conclave needs to be certain they are competent.
RADOVID: And that they will keep the Conclave's interests in mind.
CARDUIN: Obviously, Sire. The Conclave's chief interest is the well-being and prosperity of the Northern Kingdoms. The document has been signed by every member of the Conclave we have proposed, as well as by all but one of the designated advisors. We await only Síle de Tansarville's signature...
RADOVID: Without our royal seals you shall be allowed to designate advisors to cowherds at most.
CARDUIN: That is true, Your Majesty.
SHILARD: My Kings... Before you sign this document, please hear me out.
CARDUIN: Excellency, with all due respect, this matter does not concern Nilfgaard in the least.
SHILARD: I am here at King Henselt's bidding. Will you deny my right to speak?
[Letho is led out by Renuald aep Matsen, hands tied behind his back, and is forced to kneel.]
CARDUIN: What is the meaning of this?
SHILARD: This man tried to kill me this morning. He attempted to take an Imperial Envoy's life in your lands.
RADOVID: I presume he was interrogated?
SHILARD: He confessed - Foltest and Demavend died by his hand. He also revealed the identity of his employers.
LETHO: Sorceresses. They helped me with my assassinations.
RENUALD: Speak on.
LETHO: The Lodge of Sorceresses sought to remove those rulers who acted against the will of mages.
RADOVID: Lodge of Sorceresses!
SHILARD: We have compiled a list. Philippa Eilhart, Margarita Laux-Antille, Triss Merigold, Keira Metz, Francesca Findabair, Ida Emean and finally Síle de Tansarville...
SHILARD: To my deepest regret, two Nilfgaardian sorceresses, Assire var Anahid and Fringilla Vigo, were also members. The Emperor will deal with them accordingly.
[Knights of the Order of the Flaming Rose march down into the amphitheatre, menacing the mages with weapons.]
CARDUIN: Your Majesty, what's the meaning of this?
RADOVID: Arrest them all. Your document will have to wait, honorable sorcerers.
CARDUIN: You have no right!
RADOVID: Surrender now if you don't want another massacre, this time in Loc Muinne. A court of law will reveal the traitors.
[Síle raises her hands. A growl sounds, and a dragon descends on the amphitheatre, flaming the knights. The dragon picks Síle up and carries her away, safely to the top of a tower, then takes flight again.]
ROCHE: Geralt! We're cut off. I can't get through!
ROCHE: Síle! You must get Síle!
[Continues in Enter the Dragon.]
[Geralt approaches the base of Síle's tower.]
SÍLE: Turn back while you can, witcher...
SÍLE: You can't stop me. Not you, not anyone else...
SÍLE: How do you like my dragon?!
SÍLE: Saesenthessis, kill him now!
[Geralt reaches the top of the tower, dodging the dragon's attempts to break through and kill him.]
SÍLE: You're late. I've already managed to stabilize the portal...
GERALT: You've got nowhere to run. Sooner or later somebody will find you.
SÍLE: I prefer to leave on my own terms.
GERALT: Where's Letho?
SÍLE: Saesenthessis will tend to him, as she will to all the fools who get a hard-on at the mere thought of burning a sorceress at the stake.
GERALT: Where is he?
SÍLE: I don't know, fool! I've been looking for him since Foltest's assassination. Letho cheated all of us, we were deceived by his dull face and sluggish stare. Don't you understand?! The Lodge sought a way to get rid of Demavend, that's true. He was a weak, volatile king - Aedirn would eventually choke to death under his rule. We chose the lesser evil - he had to be eliminated, and Letho happened to be "at hand."
GERALT: Foltest? Henselt?
SÍLE: We had nothing to do with that. After assassinating Demavend, Letho used our gold and magical support to find and meet Iorveth. The elf was to help him hide until the matter blew over. Or so I thought. The Lodge did not condemn Foltest to die.
GERALT: Then who did?
SÍLE: Nilfgaard. Letho is the king of liars and emperor of traitors! From the start he worked for the glory of the Great Sun and the White Flame Dancing on the Graves of His Foes. He lied to everyone. Me, Iorveth, your stupid little Triss... And you.
GERALT: Got any evidence?
SÍLE: A moment ago I received a message from the Lodge's agent in Cintra. The Imperial army is on the move. They're fording the Yaruga now. Do you think the North can defend itself in the current situation? Can you count on another miracle at Brenna?
GERALT: I don't know... But you made it all possible and you'll answer for that. The stigma of treason is yours - for all time.
SÍLE: We shall see, for no one will leave this city alive. No one will tell this story. Philippa controls the dragon. As soon as I disappear, it will turn the city into a flaming tomb.
GERALT: The dragon attacked Foltest's troops during the siege of La Valette Castle. That hardly supports your tale.
SÍLE: We did not control it then. We may have lost a battle, but the war is just beginning. You, however, shall not take part in it. This is your end, witcher.
SÍLE: Farewell!
[Síle activates her portal, but the light turns red instead of blue.]
SÍLE: Something's not right...
SÍLE: The diamond! Someone replaced the diamond! This one's flawed... I'll be torn to bits... Geralt, remove it!!
SÍLE: The diamond! Remove the diamond! I'll give you anything you want!
[If Geralt does nothing, Síle will die in her portal malfunction. If he takes the diamond out of the megascope, she will live and give him some advice.]
SÍLE: You waited long enough... Should you survive, go south, to Nilfgaard, where you'll find Yennefer of Vengerberg. Farewell, witcher.
[Síle teleports away successfully this time. The dragon breaks through the wall of the tower and attacks Geralt. He manages to make his way to the roof of the tower, and when she next comes in for a blow, leaps on her back and plunges his sword into the back of her neck. The two of them crash into the nearby forest, the dragon impaling itself on a tree.]
[Geralt may choose to kill the dragon or walk away; if he walks away, the dragon frees herself from the tree impaling her and then collapses. Back in Loc Muinne, the Order of the Flaming Rose are marching through the place, searching for sorceresses and executing people. Pyres of bodies litter the square. From the mountains, Radovid overlooks Loc Muinne in flames. A soldier approaches him.]
SOLDIER: Your handiwork, sire.
RADOVID: In the beginning, there was chaos.
[Radovid and his entourage turn and leave.]
[Continued in the Epilogue.]