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.
“He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil
NARRATOR – The door slams behind you, cutting off the tobacco smoke, drunken shouting, and the renewed wail of the bagpipes. After the stifling hall, the cold evening air feels almost restorative. Vernon walks on in silence without slowing his pace. Only when Grave’s house is far behind does he finally stop and give you a long, searching look. For several moments, his face remains completely unreadable.
VERNON ROCHE – Good work, Geralt. You did manage to catch them out after all.
NARRATOR – He gives you a light pat on the shoulder, then immediately turns and continues on his way. The gesture comes off a little awkward.
BOND OF STEEL [Challenging: Success] – That’s exactly why Vernon still puts up with you, even though he could have told you to get the hell out or thrown you behind bars by now. He still believes in you.
VERNON ROCHE – That went far better than I expected. At the very least, we’ve established one extremely important fact: Grave’s men did not kill Lavelle, no matter how hard their leader tried to convince us otherwise. They may have desecrated the body, hung it from the tree, and concealed the circumstances of his death, but everything points to someone else having fired the shot.
YOU – Thank you… But does that mean Grave knows who did it and is covering for the real killer? What would he gain from that?
NARRATOR – The man in the turban sighs and rubs his eyes. After such a long day, even his usual composure is beginning to crack.
VERNON ROCHE – Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer to that. It’s also possible they simply took advantage of a murder committed by someone else to intimidate Leuvaarden and his associates. Or maybe they had some other purpose in mind…
RESOLVE [Medium: Failure] – Nothing but “maybes”… Better leave all this until tomorrow. Your head is already spinning.
VICE [Trivial: Success] – Yeah, time to get some proper food in you and have a drink! You couldn’t even get a bite down in that den.
VERNON ROCHE – In any case, it’s far from certain that they know who shot Lavelle. Still, I won’t deny that it seems quite likely — Grave does appear to be trying to conceal the killer’s identity.
YOU – The problem is, he refused to explain anything…
VERNON ROCHE – Yes, that will make our work more difficult. Without sufficient evidence, we won’t be able to prove anything for certain and will have to keep working with little more than theories and assumptions. There are still many difficulties ahead of us, but I suggest we stop here for tonight.
RESOLVE – Whew. Thank the gods.
NARRATOR – You trudge along the dark street. To your left rises a wall built of massive stones, separating Vizima from the outskirts. Lost in thought, you don’t immediately notice a silhouette some fifty meters ahead, sharply outlined against the full moon.
ARTISTRY [Medium: Success] – Like a hawk watching its prey.
YOU – Vernon, look… Up there.
NARRATOR – Roche slowly nods. He has noticed it too.
VERNON ROCHE – I have a feeling this stranger is waiting for us. And I don’t like it one bit. Stay alert.
NARRATOR – As you draw closer, the figure wrapped in a long cloak slowly turns his head and greets you with a casual wave. It’s an elf.
REFLEX [Easy: Success] – And he’s missing his right eye.
NARRATOR – Vernon tenses at once and rests a hand on the hilt of his sword.
BOND OF STEEL [Medium: Success] – There’s history between them. They’ve faced each other in battle before. Neither came away the victor.
IORVETH – Good evening, panowie. I’d like a word with you. Would you spare me a minute?
NARRATOR – His voice is deep and slightly hoarse. His gaze remains calm as his one good eye studies the two of you closely — without the slightest trace of fear.
VERNON ROCHE – Is that so? Talk? What could I possibly have to discuss with you, Iorveth?! The people your cutthroats have killed? Or what sort of execution would be fitting payment for everything you’ve done?
NARRATOR – The elf merely inclines his head.
WHISPER [Trivial: Success] – Just in case: don’t even think about letting slip that you’ve already heard that name from the little half-elf girl. You don’t remember anything. Keep playing the part you’ve been playing.
IORVETH – Do you really want to talk about executions on such a beautiful night, Vernon?
NARRATOR – A faint smile touches the elf’s lips.
KEEN EYE [Challenging: Failure] – Is he alone? Or are his men lying in wait somewhere on the rooftops?
IORVETH – I admit, I spent a long time wondering whether it was worth seeking you out at all. But Toruviel told me about this witcher. She even vouched for him — said he could be trusted, up to a point. Besides, today he did a noble thing and fed a poor half-elf girl. It was… touching.
RESOLVE [Medium: Success] – Stay calm. Iorveth only saw you from a distance, hiding somewhere on a rooftop or in the attic of a neighboring house. He can hardly know exactly what you and Enna talked about.
NARRATOR – Vernon raises an eyebrow.
VERNON ROCHE – If you’ve come to discuss charity, you’ve chosen a poor time for it.
IORVETH – On the contrary. The timing could hardly be better. Acts of kindness are becoming rare in this city. They ought to be acknowledged before they disappear entirely.
NARRATOR – Your companion exhales sharply and replies with irritation.
VERNON ROCHE – I have neither the time nor the patience for these rambling speeches. Speak plainly: what the devil do you want?
IORVETH – I only wanted to express the hope… that you might perform one more good deed. Namely, that you prevent the people of the ghetto from being slaughtered by a group of desperate and extremely violent men. You don’t have to believe me, but at least hear me out.
NARRATOR – He adjusts his hood and continues, now without the earlier mockery.
IORVETH – No one gives a damn about Vizima’s nonhumans. Worse, they’re blamed for every conceivable sin, including the recent murder. Captain Meis’s city guard is only too happy to embrace that theory. And then there are the so-called “concerned citizens” — in reality, a band of rabid racists led by a scoundrel named Jaromir Korda.
BRAWN [Easy: Success] – Jaromir Korda. That’s a dangerous-sounding name.
IORVETH – Captain Meis has firmly resolved to “turn every shack in the ghetto upside down,” as he so delicately put it. Arrest anyone who looks suspicious. Find out which of them are helping the rebels… meaning us.
WHISPER [Easy: Failure] – Did Vincent mention anything about this during your conversation?..
IORVETH – Strangely enough, the only person who seems to care about the people in the ghetto is Grave. He tries to maintain at least some semblance of order.
VERNON ROCHE – Not least because it’s the nonhumans who do the work in the underground fisstech laboratories.
IORVETH – Perhaps. But what else are impoverished elves supposed to do when there is practically no other work to be had in this part of the city? In any case, Grave’s people won’t be able to stand against both the guard and Korda’s men. My scouts have learned that Redanian agents have infiltrated the group — experts in urban combat as well as agitators.
CODEX [Easy: Failure] – Redania, Redania… That’s at least the second time the name has come up. What a shame you still know absolutely nothing about it.
IORVETH – The people are being deliberately provoked. Redanian counterintelligence hopes to destabilize Temeria, sow unrest, and make your king more accommodating during the next round of negotiations.
VERNON ROCHE – Maybe that’s true. Maybe it isn’t. Why are you telling us all this?
SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] – Your companion doesn’t trust the Scoia’tael leader in the slightest. The worst part is that his story sounds disturbingly plausible — and Roche knows it too.
IORVETH – To prepare you for what may happen. And to remind you that the massacre can still be prevented. But you need to solve this case and identify the culprit as quickly as possible. Otherwise, all two thousand nonhumans living in Vizima will be declared guilty — and barely a hundred of them are capable of defending themselves.
VERNON ROCHE – Incidentally, we still haven’t crossed your name off the list of suspects, Iorveth.
NARRATOR – The one-eyed elf inclines his head.
IORVETH – Fair enough. I should point out, however, that neither I nor my people had anything to do with it. But even if I am lying… why should the innocent be made to suffer?
SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] – This isn’t an act. He truly is worried about what will happen to his people.
IORVETH – Think about it, panowie. One last thing: if violence becomes inevitable, the Scoia’tael will defend the ghetto, even though there are very few of us left. I can only hope that you’ll act according to your principles and choose the right side. It would be…
NARRATOR – But he never gets to finish. A savage roar erupts from somewhere above, followed by the rapid clatter of claws across the roof tiles. A moment later, something shaggy crashes down onto Iorveth — something resembling an oversized wolf, only with longer legs and massive fangs.
RESOLVE [Medium: Failure] – Shit, what the hell is that thing?! A wolf? A bear? A wolf that ate a bear?!
WHISPER [Challenging: Failure] – A bear that ate a wolf. Obviously.
NARRATOR – But Iorveth is not caught off guard. The one-eyed elf pulls off an utterly impossible somersault, kicks the creature away, leaps, and disappears over the wall. The monster crashes heavily onto the cobblestones, claws scraping against the stone, then immediately raises its head.
CODEX [Medium: Success] – That’s a werewolf. A lycanthrope.
NARRATOR – With a short growl, the creature charges straight at you, intent on knocking you out of its way.
KEEN EYE [Medium: Success] – No. It isn’t looking at you, but past you, toward the narrow alley behind you. The beast is trying to escape.
DEFTNESS [Challenging: Success] – Your body reacts on its own. You bend your knees, shift half a step aside, then unleash a powerful spinning kick. The heel of your boot — the very same one that smashed the window at the Shaggy Bear — slams squarely into the monster’s jaw.
NARRATOR – Reeling from the blow, the werewolf hits the ground hard. Vernon already has his sword drawn. He steps forward and presses the point of the blade against the creature’s throat. To your utter astonishment, the creature speaks.
WEREWOLF – Wait… Wait, pan Roche… Please, let me explain…
DISCERNMENT [Medium: Failure] – There’s something familiar about that voice… You’ve heard it before. Very recently.
NARRATOR – Vernon gives a short, humorless chuckle, but makes no move to lower his weapon.
VERNON ROCHE – Well, well. They say everyone and his dog knows me. In this city, apparently, every monster does too. I’m flattered, but I doubt that will help you.
SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] – The werewolf is trembling. You can practically smell the terror on him.
WEREWOLF – Listen… I know you because we spoke just yesterday. I’m Captain Meis.
VERNON ROCHE – What?! And why should I believe such nonsense?
DIALECTIC [Easy: Success] – No, it isn’t nonsense. Remember what happened in Vincent’s office. Looks like we’ve managed to solve at least one mystery.
YOU – Vernon, I think he’s telling the truth. Yesterday, when we spoke with the captain, my medallion kept trembling, and I couldn’t figure out why…
NARRATOR – The werewolf lies sprawled on the cold cobblestones, breathing heavily. A thin trickle of blood runs from his battered jaws.
VINCENT MEIS – That’s right. I noticed your witcher medallion immediately and, I admit, it put me on my guard.
NARRATOR – Your companion studies the creature’s face for a few more moments, as though trying to find the features of the man you spoke to yesterday. Then he slowly draws the blade away from the werewolf’s throat, though he does not sheath it.
VERNON ROCHE – So this is the monster those frightened townsfolk kept talking about. That’s why the king decided to hire a witcher.
VINCENT MEIS – Ha… Of course. I’ve been spotted more than once. Every month, when the moon is full, I turn into… this.
NARRATOR – He looks down at his own clawed paws with disgust.
VINCENT MEIS – At first, I hid in the catacombs near the cemetery and waited for dawn. Then I decided there was no point sitting around doing nothing. I started going out at night and patrolling the quarter. That’s when the rumors began — about some horrible beast prowling the streets of Vizima after dark.
VERNON ROCHE – So the rumors are true? Did you really kill the emissary?
NARRATOR – This time, Vincent does not answer at once.
VINCENT MEIS – I think, pan Roche, you already know the answer to that question. Did the coroner find any claw marks or bite wounds? And why would I kill a law-abiding citizen in the first place? I’ve got my share of sins, but I’m still on the side of the law.
YOU – Then why did you attack that elf?
NARRATOR – At the mention of Iorveth, the werewolf lets out a low growl.
VINCENT MEIS – Because he is the exact opposite of a law-abiding citizen. He’s not some gentle forest elf living peacefully among the trees, befriending animals, talking to oaks, and surviving on morning dew. He’s Iorveth — leader of a Scoia’tael unit and one of the most dangerous and most wanted criminals in the region.
NARRATOR – He slowly props himself up.
VINCENT MEIS – I won’t press you about what exactly he was talking to you about, but you should know this: he’s a scoundrel. A cold-blooded killer. Don’t let his fine words mislead you.
VERNON ROCHE – Believe me, Vincent, I know that perfectly well.
NARRATOR – The captain continues, ignoring the remark. His growl deepens.
VINCENT MEIS – Three months ago, a Scoia’tael unit carried out a brazen attack on a weapons convoy bound for the capital. They slaughtered almost the entire ten-man escort; only one poor bastard somehow managed to escape. He said those scum stuffed the soldiers who were still alive into a wicker man…
CODEX [Medium: Success] – A wicker man is a wooden cage in which a victim is placed before the whole structure is set on fire. An old and decidedly unpleasant custom that some chroniclers attribute to the elves. For particularly large executions, they are even said to build enormous structures in the shape of human figures.
VINCENT MEIS – And last week, those damned terrorists killed two of my patrolmen. Ambushed them and shot them with an arquebus. One of the men had only just joined the guard. Barely more than a boy. He left behind a wife and a little daughter.
DIALECTIC [Challenging: Failure] – The elves shot the patrolmen? That sounds plausible enough… If so, then in theory they could also be responsible for Lavelle’s murder.
NARRATOR – A strained sound escapes the werewolf’s chest — somewhere between a cough and a low growl. Vincent cautiously shifts his gaze from Roche’s blade to you.
VINCENT MEIS – But enough talk. I’d like to know what you intend to do with me. Can I hope for your mercy? Or will the witcher fulfill his… destiny?
UMBRA [Impossible: Success] – Destiny? You haven’t heard that word in a very, very long time… It strikes chords in your soul that no one has touched in years.
WHISPER [Challenging: Success] – The sword of destiny has two edges. And one of them is you. As for the other…
RESOLVE [Legendary: Success] – No. Not today. No one dies tonight.
YOU – Pan Witcher has no such destiny. I don’t kill sentient beings simply because they’re under a curse.
NARRATOR – Vernon turns to you in astonishment.
VERNON ROCHE – That is certainly very merciful. But surely pan Meis still poses a danger to the townspeople?
CODEX [Challenging: Success] – Ancient bestiaries divide such creatures into two categories. Monstrum rationale — a monster that retains human reason, memory, and the ability to control its actions. And monstrum ferale — a beast in which the transformation completely overwhelms the human personality. The former can be reasoned with; one can negotiate with it and seek a way to lift the curse. The latter must be locked away during the transformation, have the curse forcibly lifted… or be killed, if no other option remains.
YOU – Some werewolves really do lose their minds completely after transforming. They no longer recognize their loved ones, cannot understand human speech, and become extremely aggressive.
NARRATOR – Vincent presses his ears slightly back against his head.
YOU – But the captain remembers his name, can speak to us, and is able to explain his actions. He attacked Iorveth because the elf is, after all, an outlaw, but afterward he tried to escape rather than tear us apart.
VERNON ROCHE – And that’s enough for you to simply let a werewolf roam the streets of Vizima at night?
CODEX – As a rule, a werewolf who retains his reason during one transformation will retain it during the next. The curse alters the body, but it does not “rewrite” the personality with every full moon.
NARRATOR – Your gaze shifts to the sword in Roche’s hand.
YOU – I think so. If pan Meis belonged to the second type, he would have tried to tear our heads off, and we’d be having this conversation with steel instead of words.
NARRATOR – For several moments, Vernon silently studies the werewolf. Then, reluctantly, he lowers his blade and takes a step back.
VERNON ROCHE – Very well. Let’s suppose you’re right. Though I can’t say I share your optimism.
VINCENT MEIS – Listen… Let me offer you a deal. You keep my secret, and I’ll tell you everything I know about the murder. I think some of it may prove quite useful.
VERNON ROCHE – Well, since my companion has vouched for you… Damn it. Fine, we have a deal. But only for as long as you remain in control of yourself and pose no threat to the townspeople.
VINCENT MEIS – Fair enough, pan Roche.
NARRATOR – Your companion snorts and adds:
VERNON ROCHE – We’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon, when you’re in… a form better suited to conversation.
VINCENT MEIS – I’ll keep my word. Until tomorrow. And thank you…
NARRATOR – The werewolf bares his fangs in something resembling a smile.
VINCENT MEIS – …for your humanity.
NARRATOR – With a single bound, he springs to his feet and disappears into the darkness. His claws clatter sharply against the cobblestones, then the sound grows fainter and fainter until it finally fades into the night. For several moments, the two of you stand in silence, watching him go. Then quiet settles over the street once more, as though the attack had never happened.
VERNON ROCHE – Geralt, remember what I said about your talent for surprising me? You’ve managed it again. This is only the second day we’ve known each other, and already enough has happened to fill a month’s worth of stories.
YOU – To be honest, I really hope I haven’t done something stupid again.
VERNON ROCHE – Oh yes. So do I.
STEADINESS [Challenging: Failure] – You’ve definitely overlooked something and fucked up spectacularly again.
YOU – Thanks. That’s very reassuring.
NARRATOR – Vernon gives the empty street one last look, then finally sheathes his sword.
VERNON ROCHE – But what’s done is done. We’ll see what Captain Meis has in store for us tomorrow. For now, let’s get back to the Shaggy Bear. It’s been a long day, and I’m damned tired.
NARRATOR – And so you find yourselves back at the tavern. The night’s revelry is in full swing: the common room is noisy, crowded, and hot. People argue and laugh at the tables, mugs thump against wood; somewhere in the corner, someone is hoarsely singing a filthy little song, while two tipsy dockworkers fight over the last piece of fried sausage with the fury of men disputing an inheritance.
FORTITUDE [Easy: Success] – An ordinary evening in an ordinary tavern. It’s almost reassuring. Somewhere, at least, there is still a little world where people simply live, without thinking — or trying not to think — about pogroms, murders, and werewolves prowling dark streets.
NARRATOR – Instead of going upstairs, Vernon sits down at the nearest empty table and gestures to the chair opposite him.
VERNON ROCHE – One more thing before we can retire with a clear conscience… The snuffbox. You haven’t forgotten, have you?
DIALECTIC [Easy: Failure] – Of course you’ve forgotten all about it.
NARRATOR – Your companion places a small box on the table and flips open the lid. It’s empty. Not a crumb of tobacco, not a speck of dust, not even its characteristic smell.
VERNON ROCHE – Very interesting. A snuffbox that apparently never held any snuff. Don’t you find that strange? Why carry it around at all?
ARTISTRY [Challenging: Failure] – Perhaps it was merely decorative? Some people surround themselves with useless objects just to seem more mysterious.
BRAWN [Legendary: Failure] – As a weapon? The box is small, but it’s got some weight to it. In a pinch, you could give someone a damn good crack over the head with it.
NARRATOR – Vernon picks up the evidence and examines it carefully from every angle. He runs a fingernail along the inner rim, presses down on the bottom, then taps the case several times with his knuckle. You watch in silence, unsure what to say.
VERNON ROCHE – I was once taught how to find hidden compartments in things like this. I’m almost certain this one is hiding something too.
NARRATOR – Now he slowly feels along the inside of the lid. Suddenly, there is a soft click.
VERNON ROCHE – Ah, of course… A classic. Look, there’s a small hidden compartment here. Though at the moment, it contains only a single document…
NARRATOR – Roche takes out a sheet of parchment folded several times. You stare at him like a ten-year-old boy at a magician’s show.
VERNON ROCHE – Let’s see… A letter.
NARRATOR – He gives it a cautious sniff.
VERNON ROCHE – Smells like a woman’s perfume.
DISCERNMENT [Trivial: Failure] – Oh no… Don’t tell me…
VERNON ROCHE – Cinnamon, I think. Or something close to it. Well, it seems Chevalier Lavelle was keeping a letter from a certain lady… We’ll have to put our scruples aside and read it.
NARRATOR – Vernon quickly scans the text.
VERNON ROCHE – “My dear Bastien, I count the days with longing until we meet again. My poor little heart flutters like a frightened bird…” We can probably skip that part… “I shall await you on Thursday at seven in the evening, my master. Please, bring your whip…”
NARRATOR – Roche stops mid-sentence.
VERNON ROCHE – Ahem… We didn’t find any whip…
NARRATOR – He rubs the bridge of his nose in that now-familiar gesture.
VERNON ROCHE – It’s signed with a single initial: “K.” Postscript: “I beg you, dream of me tonight.”
NARRATOR – Vernon carefully folds the letter, slips it into an inner pocket, and gives you a questioning look.
VERNON ROCHE – Well? What do you make of this love letter?
VICE [Trivial: Success] – I think they had a wonderful time.
DIALECTIC [Challenging: Failure] – Be quiet… I can’t think at all when you’re talking. Thursday, seven o’clock, the mysterious “K”… Think… No, nothing. My thoughts keep drifting back to the whip.
NARRATOR – You shake your head as though trying to dislodge a few unwanted images, then give a helpless shrug.
VERNON ROCHE – There isn’t much we can learn from this letter, but one detail does stand out. Remember: Bastien disappeared on Thursday, sometime after five in the evening. It could, of course, be a coincidence — the meeting may have taken place several weeks or even months earlier. And yet…
YOU – I wonder who wrote it.
VERNON ROCHE – Unfortunately, I haven’t the slightest idea who this “K” might be. We know only one woman with any connection to the case, and her name is Rosie…
NARRATOR – Vernon gives the snuffbox another thoughtful look, then lets out a heavy sigh and rises from the table.
VERNON ROCHE – Once again, I have to admit that we’re still groping in the dark. And that damned elf is right: we’re running out of time. I’ll see you in the morning, witcher. Good night.
NARRATOR – He shakes your hand and leaves, calling out to Garte on the way and asking him to have dinner brought up to his room. Dishes still clatter all around you, someone is talking quietly by the bar, and logs crackle in the fireplace. And yet, for some reason, the tavern suddenly feels noticeably quieter.
UMBRA [Easy: Success] – How strange… Over these past two days, you’ve already grown used to having that tall, self-assured swordsman in his doublet and turban beside you. As though he had always been part of your life — the very life you remember nothing about.