This is a non-commercial fanfic based on the universes of The Witcher and Disco Elysium. All rights to the original works, characters, names, and elements of their respective worlds belong to their respective copyright holders. The author of this fanfic does not claim ownership of any of them. Age rating: rated R (18+). The text contains profanity, alcohol, fictional drugs, violence, and other themes intended for an adult audience.
“Never say of anything, ‘I have lost it,’ but only, ‘I have given it back.’”
— Epictetus, Enchiridion, XI
NARRATOR – You make your way back, passing the same mansions and offices as before. Vernon looks dejected.
VERNON ROCHE – I’ll be frank: that conversation went nothing like I expected. First there was that ridiculous business with the name… What the hell came over you this time?
YOU – I… suddenly felt awful. And then there was that document on his desk…
VERNON ROCHE – I wouldn’t worry about that. Declan almost certainly just had his spies gather some general information about you. They may, for instance, have tried to get good sir Jaskier talking — and from what I’ve seen, he is very fond of discussing all manner of unrelated subjects. I doubt there was anything particularly remarkable in that document.
NARRATOR – He falls silent for a minute.
VERNON ROCHE – So, your real name is Geralt. There was nothing about that in the brief instructions sent by good sir Ducat, so don’t imagine I was hiding anything from you. Bernard either forgot to mention it or, more likely, simply assumed I had already heard of you. Unfortunately, I rarely attend musical evenings, and I had completely forgotten the name of the man who saved Princess Adda.
ARTISTRY [Challenging: Success] – Sir Ambroise de Beaupré sounds far more distinguished. Forget this Geralt fellow.
UMBRA [Easy: Success] – Especially since you already have. The name still stirs absolutely nothing in you.
VERNON ROCHE – Then there are those damned swords of yours. I knew they’d come back to haunt us, but I never imagined things would turn out quite this badly. Now we’ve ended up running errands for pan Leuvaarden and have to dig up dirt for him. He played it perfectly: there was no way we could simply ignore what he told us about the drug trade.
ARTISTRY [Medium: Success] – The trap snapped shut quickly and without a clang. Just a soft click, the smell of expensive coffee, and a pouch of coins in your hand.
NARRATOR – Vernon stares grimly ahead. The Merchant Quarter is behind you now, but its shadow seems to follow close at your heels.
VERNON ROCHE – When all is said and done, pan Leuvaarden told us very little that was actually new — apart from the victim’s name, the situation with his brother, and a rough idea of when he disappeared.
YOU – We also got a lecture on the evils of drugs and on business interests…
VERNON ROCHE – I could have lived without that. In short, either Declan genuinely knows nothing more, or he chose to dole out what he knows in carefully measured doses. Frankly, both possibilities seem equally likely.
YOU – By the way, why didn’t you show him the snuffbox we confiscated from the junk dealer?
VERNON ROCHE – Because I have no doubt where it came from… And because the merchant already knows far too much as it is. There’s no reason to show all our cards at once. Besides, I’d like to take a closer look at the thing this evening.
NARRATOR – You take a different route back to the tavern. Not that it looks any better here: the same neglect and poverty reign everywhere. Crooked little houses, boarded-up windows, mud, and rubbish. Apparently, once you’ve seen one street in the Temple Quarter, you’ve seen them all.
VERNON ROCHE – As you’ve probably gathered, our next task is to pay Grave a visit. And that will be considerably more dangerous… If the captain of the guard told us to go to hell and the merchant turned us into his pawns, then this scoundrel may simply have us killed if something goes wrong. Still, as you heard, he receives visitors late in the evening, so until then I suggest we put these gloomy thoughts aside and—
NARRATOR – Vernon never gets to finish. A booming voice cuts him off. It belongs to a bearded dwarf in a red shirt standing beside a horse pen.
HORSE TRADER – Hey, panowie! Care to buy yourselves a horse? Purebred Zerrikanian steeds at excellent prices! Any cheaper and I’d be giving them away!
NARRATOR – Several horses shift listlessly around the pen. One, a dappled mouse-gray, looks as though it has survived two wars and a plague. Another, black as coal, is so thin that Death himself could ride it. The third, a bay, stares at you with empty eyes full of boundless sorrow and despair.
VERNON ROCHE – If those horses are from Zerrikania, then I’m the Grand Master of the Order of the Flaming Rose.
HORSE TRADER – Now, now, don’t be so quick to say no, pan soldier! No need to rush to judgment. I’ve got some fine animals here! Take this mare, for instance. Smart, gentle, finds her own way!
NARRATOR – He points to the black nag.
KEEN EYE [Medium: Success] – She certainly does know the road — especially the one leading to the nearest graveyard.
HORSE TRADER – Or this little stallion here… Fast as an arrow! Hardly ever bites! Loves children!
DIALECTIC [Challenging: Failure] – So he hardly ever bites and loves children? Or does he rarely use his teeth, but when he does bite, prefers children specifically? A rather confusing thought. Best not say it out loud.
NARRATOR – The dwarf slaps the dappled horse on the rump. It does not react. Vernon rubs the bridge of his nose.
HORSE TRADER – Not to your liking either? All right, just you wait, good sirs! I can see you’re men who know their horses, so let me show you one little beauty… You won’t be turning your noses up at this one, I’ll wager. Just a moment, just a moment. I keep him in a little shed, apart from the others and well away from prying eyes.
DIALECTIC [Medium: Success] – If a merchant keeps his merchandise apart from the others, there are several possible explanations. It is either extremely valuable or stolen… Or both at once.
NARRATOR – The trader pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and hurries toward the shed beside the pen. Vernon shakes his head, but decides to stay and see this unexpected performance through. The dwarf unlocks the door and slips inside somewhat hesitantly, edging in sideways. A quiet neigh comes from within.
VERNON ROCHE – Now I’m actually curious…
NARRATOR – A moment later, the bearded dwarf proudly leads a tall white gelding out of the shed. You have to admit, he wasn’t lying: the animal looks magnificent. Its smooth pale coat seems to shine even in this filthy yard, its mane is neatly combed, its legs long and strong, its chest broad, its back straight. It holds its head high and regards the world with such calm dignity that it might as well be standing at a military parade rather than in the backstreets of the Temple Quarter.
DISCERNMENT [Medium: Success] – Fine conformation. Clear, healthy eyes. No sign of starvation, old injuries, or neglect. A horse like this has no business standing beside a shack like this. It looks as out of place here as a vagrant in a royal palace.
UMBRA [Challenging: Success] – I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Again.
FORTITUDE [Medium: Failure] – Damn it, not this cursed trembling again. What’s wrong this time?
HORSE TRADER – Well? What did I tell you, eh? That’s not just a horse — that’s poetry! King Foltest himself, gods preserve him, wouldn’t be ashamed to ride a beauty like this!
NARRATOR – The bored look suddenly vanishes from Vernon’s face. Roche steps closer to the white gelding and begins examining it with much greater attention. The dwarf does not stop talking for even a second.
HORSE TRADER – Oh-ho, I can see you appreciate a fine steed when you see one, pan soldier. You’ll look magnificent on him, like a true hero out of the old legends! And I’ll give you a fair price, seeing as I took a liking to you straight away!
NARRATOR – Roche continues inspecting the horse in silence. It stands remarkably still, almost like a statue. Then, as though something has just occurred to him, your companion carefully folds back the animal’s right ear.
VERNON ROCHE – Witcher, come over here for a moment, please.
UMBRA – Oh, there is absolutely nothing good in that tone of voice. Better not go. Pretend you’re part of the fence.
NARRATOR – You approach the gelding slowly and warily. It calmly sniffs your shoulder.
VERNON ROCHE – See this brand?
KEEN EYE [Trivial: Success] – There really is a tiny mark inside the ear: a crown above three lilies.
VERNON ROCHE – Three lilies.
CODEX [Easy: Failure] – What could that possibly mean?.. Three flowers. Perhaps the horse belongs to a gardener?
NARRATOR – Roche suddenly raises his voice so the dwarf can hear him too.
VERNON ROCHE – The coat of arms of Temeria. This gelding came from the royal stables.
NARRATOR – The bearded trader, who had been singing the horse’s praises nonstop, falls abruptly silent. His face turns almost as red as his shirt. The gelding nudges you with its nose. It is the only one here who remains perfectly calm.
HORSE TRADER – P-p-pan soldier… I beg you, hear me out! I swear I knew nothing about it! I beg you!..
NARRATOR – Vernon gives the dwarf a dark look and takes hold of the gelding’s bridle.
VERNON ROCHE – Where did you get this horse?
HORSE TRADER – P-p-pan, I just found him wandering in the street. No owner, you see… just a stray gelding…
VERNON ROCHE – Do you take me for an idiot?! How could you have “just found” a horse from the royal stables wandering in the street?
HORSE TRADER – Have mercy! I-it was the evening before last, I think… I was walking home, near Fountain Square, you see… Then from a ways off I see some gentleman tearing down the street on horseback. Properly drunk — you could tell at once just by looking at him. Galloping along, anyway…
NARRATOR – Vernon slowly turns his head toward you.
UMBRA [Medium: Success] – Oh no. No, no, no. I do not like where this phantasmagorical story is going at all.
VERNON ROCHE – And then what?
HORSE TRADER – A-a-and then he went straight through the wattle fence by that tavern — the Shaggy Bear, you know. I just stood there, not knowing what to think. Then all of a sudden the gentleman comes riding back out and charges straight at me at full gallop. But I guess he couldn’t stay in the saddle: he fell off the gelding right beside the fountain and started bellowing like a boar.
FORTITUDE [Trivial: Success] – So that’s why the… lower back hurt like hell.
HORSE TRADER – I thought he’d killed himself for sure, but no… You know what they say: to a drunk, even the sea is only knee-deep. He got back up, started shouting again, waving his arms around like he was trying to drive off evil spirits, and then wandered off somewhere. And the horse came running straight over to me.
NARRATOR – The white gelding looks at you with intelligent eyes and gives a quiet snort, as though trying to cheer you up.
VERNON ROCHE – And so you took someone else’s horse, intending to sell it?
HORSE TRADER – I beg you, don’t judge too quickly! At first I thought I’d take him to the barracks and let pan Meis sort it out. But then I got to thinking: what if the horse was stolen? They’d grab me the moment I walked in and say I was the one who stole him.
DIALECTIC [Easy: Success] – Afraid they might mistake him for a horse thief, the dwarf stole the gelding instead. Logical.
HORSE TRADER – That’s why I brought him back to my shed… Have mercy, pan soldier! I’ve got two children, my wife’s pregnant, and nobody wants to buy these miserable nags!
NARRATOR – With a curt, commanding gesture, your partner beckons over a passing guard, shows him the letter of authority, and gives an order.
VERNON ROCHE – Deal with this fellow… To make sure he thinks twice before selling other people’s horses again, I suggest putting him in the lockup for the night and giving him a flogging as a warning. For a first offense, that will suffice.
NARRATOR – There is steel in the Blue Stripes commander’s voice. At that, the trader begins bowing over and over.
HORSE TRADER – Thank you, pan soldier! Gods bless you! May every road before you be a smooth one!
SENSIBILITY [Trivial: Success] – Vernon has decided to spare the poor bearded fellow. One night in a cell and a flogging — all things considered, he got off lightly. This sort of thing could have landed him in much deeper trouble. Notice, too, that Vernon chose not to impose a fine. In view of the man’s financial difficulties.
VERNON ROCHE – I’ll return the gelding to the royal stables myself.
NARRATOR – The guard leads the dejected dwarf away. He casts one last mournful glance at the dazzling white horse that entered his life so strangely and left it again just as quickly.
WHISPER [Easy: Success] – And now it’s your turn to get a dressing-down. Remarkable how much trouble can come crashing down on one man’s head in just two days.
NARRATOR – Vernon speaks very quietly.
VERNON ROCHE – You know, Geralt, Thaler mentioned in his letter that I would recognize you by the medallion and the white hair — or by the white horse temporarily placed at your disposal by order of His Majesty.
FORTITUDE [Challenging: Failure] – A wave of heat washes over you.
VERNON ROCHE – And I kept wondering what had happened to the horse. At first I assumed you’d simply decided not to take it, but now… Now the picture is clear. Isn’t it?
WHISPER – He wants you to admit it yourself. It’s only fair.
YOU – Yes, probably… I suppose I was the lunatic who smashed through the fence. That dwarf must have seen me…
DOMINANCE [Medium: Success] – If you remember, you promised to kick the ass of the bastard who did this. But don’t worry: yours is going to get kicked anyway, so there’s no need to indulge in self-punishment.
YOU – …But this is COMPLETELY FUCKED. I nearly lost the king’s horse. Am I… going to be punished? Kicked out of the witchers?
CODEX [Easy: Failure] – Is there even a formal procedure for expelling someone from the witchers? Does someone have to sign an official document? Who puts the seal on it? Do witchers have a Keeper of the Seal?
VERNON ROCHE – Don’t invent nonsense… You cannot be kicked out of the witchers any more than I can be kicked out of humanity, or that crooked horse trader out of the dwarves.
NARRATOR – He continues in the same quiet, weary voice.
VERNON ROCHE – But if His Majesty hears about this… If Foltest learns that you got drunk, crashed through a wattle fence on a horse graciously placed at your disposal, and very nearly let some swindler sell it off… I’m afraid the conversation will be exceedingly unpleasant. In the worst case, you may find yourself sentenced to hard labor — if the king happens to be in a foul mood.
DOMINANCE – And rightly so.
STEADINESS [Medium: Failure] – It would have been better if they could just kick you out of the witchers.
VERNON ROCHE – Which is precisely why I strongly advise you to forget this incident and never speak of it again.
MASQUE [Easy: Failure] – Oh, how noble and forgiving this chevalier is!
WHISPER [Medium: Success] – No. He’s being practical. The investigation is taking an ugly turn, and for now he needs you. Preferably not in chains.
VERNON ROCHE – To be perfectly frank, every time I think you can no longer surprise me, you somehow manage to pull another stunt. It’s a remarkable talent.
YOU – I’m sorry, Vernon… I didn’t mean to… I really am…
VERNON ROCHE – I don’t doubt it. In any case, enough with the self-flagellation. I’ll find a saddle and head to the royal stables. While I’m there, I’ll also take the opportunity to make a brief report to Thaler. The whole business will take about two hours. You may use that time to rest… But I beg you: stay out of trouble. We meet by the fountain at exactly seven this evening. Hopefully, you can remember that.
NARRATOR – He disappears into the shed. The white horse stands by the fence with calm dignity.
UMBRA [Medium: Success] – And now you are alone again… So much has been lost over the past few days… and all you’ve gained is a name you don’t even like.