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.
“The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.”
— Honoré de Balzac, A Woman of Thirty
VERNON ROCHE – So, the captain wasn’t lying: some of that information really did prove useful. At the very least, we can now return to pan Leuvaarden in good conscience and report that the assignment is complete.
NARRATOR – Roche carefully steps around a large pig lying in a puddle in the middle of the road.
VERNON ROCHE – After that, we need to pay Mistress Karmen a visit. I don’t think she’ll be difficult to find…
WHISPER [Easy: Success] – Especially if she’s still hanging around on that balcony, luring passing men into her web.
YOU – Listen, Vernon, I may know what she looks like and exactly where she lives. Yesterday evening I happened to exchange a few words with a courtesan who matches the description…
VERNON ROCHE – Is that so? And what did the two of you talk about?
VICE [Easy: Failure] – Well, for example, you wanted to tell her…
YOU – Nothing like that… Ahem. She mentioned that she’d supposedly been busy all night from Thursday into Friday with some pan… But I couldn’t get his name out of her.
VERNON ROCHE – Interesting. Still, for now let’s focus on the merchant. When we speak to him, let’s try not to give pan Meis away too blatantly… He may be taking bribes, but we did give him our word.
NARRATOR – The same gray-haired servant shows you into the now-familiar study with its fotels and paintings. You cautiously perch on the very edge of an armchair, hoping that this time it will show mercy and refrain from devouring you.
SERVANT – Would you care for coffee again, as yesterday?
VERNON ROCHE – Yes, please. No sugar.
NARRATOR – The servant brings two porcelain cups and withdraws with a bow. You stretch out your aching legs with pleasure — you’ve done more than your share of running around these past few days. About ten minutes later, Declan Leuvaarden himself strolls into the study. Today he’s dressed in a golden robe with elegant floral embroidery. A shapeless skullcap sits on his head, and on his feet are the same fluffy slippers as before. He gives you both a warm smile, as though greeting his own children.
LEUVAARDEN – Pan Roche! Geralt! Good afternoon! I’m absolutely delighted to see you. I trust you’re both in good health. Well, don’t keep me in suspense — tell me everything! What did you manage to find out? You haven’t come empty-handed, I hope?
SENSIBILITY [Easy: Success] – He looks like a ten-year-old boy about to be handed a present. Except this particular present, apparently, is supposed to come wrapped in other people’s secrets.
VERNON ROCHE – Of course not, pan Leuvaarden. We did manage to learn something important. First, your suspicions were correct: Grave and his associates really are behind the drug trade.
NARRATOR – The merchant gives a satisfied nod, closing his eyes.
VERNON ROCHE – Second, the network is far more extensive than we expected. It reaches into other countries. By the look of it, hundreds of people are involved, and the city guard is powerless to do anything about it.
LEUVAARDEN – That last part, to be frank, is hardly news…
VERNON ROCHE – Third, Grave has formed an alliance with other major figures in the criminal underworld: Carlo Varese, Cyprian Wiley, and Sigi Reuven. Possibly others as well.
NARRATOR – At these names, Declan perks up and begins listening much more closely.
VERNON ROCHE – And fourth, Grave doesn’t seem interested in any kind of negotiation. He sent word that he intends to drive you out of the Temple Quarter… Though the message itself was phrased in somewhat less polite terms. That’s everything we managed to find out.
LEUVAARDEN – Well, my friends, you’ve made impressive progress! My compliments.
NARRATOR – The portly merchant gives a few light claps, still wearing that syrupy smile.
LEUVAARDEN – As for negotiations with that boor… I think things may yet change. He’s trying to bite off far more than he can chew. For now, my partners and I will turn a blind eye to his behavior. But in a few months, once the long-awaited peace with Redania has finally been signed…
NARRATOR – All at once, every trace of good humor vanishes from Leuvaarden’s face, and he finishes sharply, raising his voice.
LEUVAARDEN – …We’ll return to the matter. Grave is no fool, and he understands that if he keeps making trouble, the king will have no choice but to deploy his guardsmen. Two or three companies should be enough, I imagine. Though I’d rather it didn’t come to that.
NARRATOR – He gives a small grunt, then slips back into his usual purring manner of speech.
LEUVAARDEN – After all, a man who can keep order in the Temple Quarter could be useful to me. Those worthless guards, as you quite rightly observed, aren’t capable of much. Besides, I have no doubt that Grave bought Vincent Meis lock, stock, and barrel a long time ago…
WHISPER [Easy: Success] – That wasn’t exactly difficult to figure out. Just don’t comment on it. Let him keep talking.
LEUVAARDEN – And I can guess who gave you this information. But don’t worry: there’s no need to reveal your sources. I imagine you’ve entered into some sort of gentleman’s agreement, and such things are not to be taken lightly…
WHISPER – Still, it’s remarkable how easily the merchant saw right through you.
LEUVAARDEN – In any case, don’t trouble yourself with it or worry about what happens next. We’ll manage. To paraphrase a well-known saying: where there’s capital, there’s a way.
YOU – Yes, but… what about my swords? Have your people managed to find out anything?
LEUVAARDEN – Ah yes, the swords… I must admit, my people, as you call them, found out where that charming old woman lives some time ago. The swords are undoubtedly in her possession.
REFLEX [Easy: Success] – Some time ago? So he’s literally been holding your swords hostage?
YOU – You mean you kept this from us…
NARRATOR – He cuts you off without ceremony.
LEUVAARDEN – Geralt, listen. It was with a heavy heart that I found myself obliged to take advantage of the situation. Mea culpa. But in my defense, during our last conversation the whereabouts of your swords were just as much a mystery to me as they were to you. So let us simply shake hands and agree that we’ve proven quite useful to one another.
NARRATOR – He does not, however, actually offer you his hand.
LEUVAARDEN – Her name is Bozhena, though everyone simply calls her Magpie. From what I gather, she has a habit of dragging home anything shiny and has turned the place into something of a junk heap. Not to mention a dozen or two cats living there…
STEADINESS [Medium: Failure] – Oh, not this again. First a vacant lot with a rotting corpse and piles of garbage, then that reeking junk dealer’s shop, and now the hovel of the local madwoman.
RESOLVE [Challenging: Failure] – You keep ending up in the most revolting places this city has to offer. Why couldn’t some wealthy beauty have bought your swords instead?
LEUVAARDEN – Her house is in the Temple Quarter — my servant will give you the exact address. Bear in mind, pani Magpie appears to be somewhat… unbalanced, so do be careful. And that, I believe, is everything I can tell you.
VERNON ROCHE – Excellent. Thank you, pan Leuvaarden.
LEUVAARDEN – Think nothing of it! A favor for a favor. I won’t keep you any longer, my friends, but remember: my door is always open to you. Do drop by sometime!
NARRATOR – The same servant sees you to the gate. Before saying goodbye, he hands you a slip of paper.
SERVANT – This has the address you’re looking for in the Temple Quarter, pan witcher. And one more thing…
NARRATOR – He produces a pouch from his pocket — slightly heavier than the one from last time.
SERVANT – Master Leuvaarden asked me to give you this. So you can buy back your belongings. All the best to you.
NARRATOR – The servant bows and takes his leave.
VERNON ROCHE – Once again, congratulations on receiving yet another bribe. Try not to end up like Captain Meis… Come along. It’s time to finally close this disgraceful chapter of your life.
NARRATOR – You leave the Merchant Quarter behind and return to the part of the city where the streets grow dimmer, the houses lower, and the smells more honest. The address leads you to the far end of the Temple Quarter, where a row of old buildings huddles against the city wall. The house of pani Bozhena, whom the locals call Magpie, stands at the end of a narrow, filthy alley. It is a crooked two-story building with crumbling plaster, windows covered in rags, and a roof like the back of an old mangy dog. Bluish smoke drifts lazily from the chimney.
ARTISTRY [Medium: Success] – Houses like this are where priceless witcher swords, ancestral curses, and dead relatives nobody remembered to bury in time are usually kept.
NARRATOR – Three cats sit in a row by the front door: one black, one ginger, and one gray. At your approach, they all turn their heads at once; six eyes fix on you with identical suspicion. The moment you come closer, the black cat arches its back, lets out a low hiss, and bolts away. The other two race after it.
CODEX [Challenging: Success] – As always, cats are the first to take notice of you… Or children.
NARRATOR – Vernon climbs onto the creaking porch and knocks loudly several times on the flimsy, unpainted door. A commotion starts up on the other side: something falls over, someone meows angrily, and a woman’s voice begins arguing with an unseen companion.
VOICE BEHIND THE DOOR – I’m coming, I’m coming! No need to break the door down! And you, Boleslav, get down from there this instant before I pull those whiskers right out of your face!
WHISPER [Easy: Success] – Boleslav is probably a cat. At least, one can hope.
NARRATOR – The door swings open, revealing a tall, gaunt old woman in a gaudy dress that looks as though it was stitched together from scraps of curtains. Dozens of ornaments jingle around her neck, wrists, and fingers: chains, rings, brooches, cheap stones, old coins, and all manner of glittering junk that anyone else would have thrown away long ago, but which she evidently considers treasure.
VERNON ROCHE – Good afternoon. We’re looking for pani Bozhena. Would that be you?
NARRATOR – The old woman peers into your faces for several moments, squinting with faded eyes. Then her wrinkled features light up with genuine delight.
MAGPIE – Wacek! Mirek! You shameless rascals, you came back after all! I told my kittykins you’d turn up again soon. What a joy!
RESOLVE [Medium: Failure] – What is happening?.. There is definitely something wrong with her. Better keep your distance.
MAGPIE – Come in, come in! Don’t just stand in the doorway. Go on, I’ve just put the kettle on.
NARRATOR – She grabs the bewildered Vernon by the sleeve and firmly tugs him inside.
DIALECTIC [Easy: Success] – Obviously, the old woman has mistaken you for her sons, whom she has been waiting for all these years. The only question is whether those sons ever existed in the first place. It’s entirely possible the poor woman simply invented them.
UMBRA [Challenging: Success] – Wacek and Mirek may well have been real people who died long ago. Bozhena simply never managed to come to terms with the loss.
BOND OF STEEL [Medium: Success] – Vernon shoots you a brief, meaningful look. Play along. There’s no point trying to correct the old woman — not now, at least.
NARRATOR – You let Bozhena usher you inside. The door slams shut behind you, cutting off the only source of relatively fresh air.
FORTITUDE [Challenging: Failure] – You can already feel yourself starting to suffocate.
NARRATOR – Magpie’s house looks as though the contents of abandoned attics and city dumps have been dragged in here for years, with nothing ever thrown away. Chests, crates, broken chairs, old lamps, cracked dishes, bottles, and heaps of torn clothing of uncertain origin are piled along the walls. Almost every free hook is occupied by beads, chains, and other trinkets.
ARTISTRY [Easy: Success] – It reminds you of Tibald’s shop, only… the stuff here is incomparably worse. As though all this junk had spent years rotting, multiplying, and finally opened a shop of its own.
WHISPER [Medium: Success] – You’ve encountered a unique phenomenon. This old woman collects things even ordinary junk dealers have already rejected.
CODEX [Challenging: Failure] – Following this line of reasoning, we are dealing with a scrutarius secundi ordinis. A second-order junk dealer — the keeper of objects rejected by junk dealers of the first order.
YOU – Uh… what? Second-order junk dealers actually exist?
CODEX – Undoubtedly, colleague. In his treatise On the Circulation of Rubbish, the scholar Bartholomew Grotten proposed the existence of a third order as well. Though the same work notes that encounters with such people are highly undesirable.
SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] – Magpie doesn’t simply collect things. She rescues them from oblivion. At least, that’s how it seems to work in her mind.
NARRATOR – Cats move silently through the channels carved between the heaps of junk. There are at least a dozen of them: on top of cupboards, under the table, in baskets, on windowsills. One peers out from inside a battered helmet, another sleeps curled up in a copper basin, and a third sits atop a stack of books…
STEADINESS [Medium: Failure] – The stench is indescribable. Excrement, sour milk, damp, stale urine, dust, rancid fat, and something else — warm, alive, and completely impossible to identify. After your encounter with a decomposing corpse and that flight into a garbage heap, you thought you were prepared for anything. You were wrong.
MAGPIE – Sit down, my dears! You must be hungry after the journey. Mother will feed you properly. Missed some good food, have you?
NARRATOR – She seats you at a round table, first shooing away a huge tomcat that is shamelessly licking itself under the tail. Half the tabletop is buried beneath balls of yarn, empty jars, and dried bouquets, so finding room for yourselves proves rather difficult. On the wall opposite hangs a portrait of an impossibly thin gentleman with a doomed expression.
CODEX – I believe that’s Bartholomew Grotten himself. The great researcher’s final portrait painted from life.
NARRATOR – Beaming, Bozhena sets two bowls before you, each filled with a grayish mass containing visible chunks of something fibrous.
KEEN EYE [Challenging: Failure] – Perhaps it’s porridge?
MASQUE [Impossible: Failure] – Maestro, this is clearly an exquisite potage à la Rochefort — a delicate cream soup of white partridge, forest mushrooms, and cream, prepared according to a classic Toussaint recipe.
STEADINESS [Medium: Failure] – It looks like the contents of an old pillow boiled in milk.
WHISPER [Trivial: Success] – Don’t even think about eating that unless you want to die in horrible agony.
MAGPIE – Eat up! You always loved my stew. Especially you, Wacek.
NARRATOR – Vernon, now transformed into Wacek, clears his throat uncertainly, gives an awkward nod, and gloomily stirs the slop with his spoon.
RESOLVE [Easy: Success] – He doesn’t even flinch when a tiny fish head surfaces from the gray mass. A true professional.
NARRATOR – Next, Bozhena pours cloudy tea into chipped cups. The drink smells of a swamp, wet bark, and the sort of water something may have been living in until very recently.
VERNON ROCHE – Thank you… Mother.
NARRATOR – He takes a cautious sip, and you follow his example so as not to offend your kind-hearted hostess.
BOND OF STEEL [Medium: Success] – You exchange a glance. The tea has a distinct taste of rot. But an ordeal endured together can only strengthen the bonds of friendship.
MAGPIE – Well then, my boys, tell your mother where you’ve been all these years. Why didn’t you even send a letter?
NARRATOR – Your companion makes it abundantly clear that he would very much like to remove himself from this absurd conversation.
MASQUE [Easy: Success] – Maestro, he is yielding the stage to you, fully aware of your talents! It is time to appear before the audience! Regale this lady with a thrilling tale of your great deeds.
WHISPER [Easy: Success] – Just keep it short. No need to go rambling on. Don’t forget, you’re here on business.
ELOQUENCE [Challenging: Success] – You’ll have to make something up, because the few deeds you actually remember can hardly be called great by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe claim you were at war? With, say…
CODEX [Trivial: Failure] – Kovir! Remember those men arguing in the tavern the day before yesterday!
YOU – But weren’t they talking about how Kovir’s ruling dynasty might lose power? Did they actually mention a war? I don’t remember anything like that…
CODEX – Irrelevant. If the dynasty is on the verge of collapse, there must have been some military action there at some point.
YOU – We were at war… Mother. With Kovir. We were sent…
CODEX – South!
YOU – …Far to the south, and we spent several years on the move. There was never any time to send letters, and the post barely reached that far anyway. All the messengers were intercepted and killed.
NARRATOR – Vernon props his cheek on one hand and listens with great interest. Evidently, the news of a years-long war with Kovir comes as a surprise to him. As does the fact that Kovir has somehow moved south.
CODEX – Borders and the geographical locations of states have a tendency to change during major military conflicts. Probably.
YOU – Then there was a big battle. Mirek was wounded in the shoulder, and some huge bastard hit me over the head…
ELOQUENCE [Easy: Failure] – Wait… Which one of you was Mirek, and which one was Wacek? I think you may have screwed this up.
YOU – …Hit me very hard. That’s why I get confused sometimes now and can’t remember much. But the important thing is that we survived. The war ended, and now we’ve come home for a short leave.
MAGPIE – Oh, what a terrible thing! I knew something bad had happened to you! Just last week Boleslav sat by the door all day, meowing about something as though he were trying to bring me news… Only he can’t speak in a human voice.
NARRATOR – Bozhena presses both hands to her chest. Vernon, having also lost track of which of you is supposed to be who, absentmindedly feels his supposedly wounded shoulder.
MAGPIE – And have you seen Maryśka lately? How is she doing? Has she married Leszek yet, or is she still turning up her nose at him?
NARRATOR – Vernon shoots you a brief glance. Apparently, he is also leaving the fate of the unknown Maryśka entirely to your imagination.
MASQUE [Medium: Success] – Maestro, you are ready to perform this play as well! In stories like this, people invariably get married, have children, open a little shop, and live happily ever after.
YOU – Sure did, Mother. She went and married Leszek after all. They’re living out near Tretogor now…
VICE [Easy: Success] – Remember Kalkstein’s lecture!
YOU – …They run a cheese shop. Sell wine too. They’ve already got two boys, and a third little one is on the way.
SENSIBILITY [Trivial: Success] – That seems to have gone over well.
MAGPIE – That’s wonderful! I always said Maryśka was a practical girl. She always had a knack for making cheese, even as a little girl…
ELOQUENCE [Challenging: Failure] – Excellent. In the space of five minutes, you’ve started and ended a war, moved an entire country a thousand kilometers, arranged a happy marriage, and given a shop to people whose existence you’re not entirely sure of.
WHISPER [Trivial: Success] – They have a saying for people like you: once your tongue gets going, there’s no stopping it.
MAGPIE – You know, my boys, I’ve got a little present ready for you! I just knew you’d be turning up any day now. Wait here, I’ll go fetch it…
NARRATOR – Bozhena briskly disappears through the door into the next room. At once, there comes a crash, the clatter of dishes, and an indignant chorus of meowing.
RESOLVE [Medium: Failure] – A present. That could mean anything: a necklace made of fish bones, a dried rat, an ancestral chamber pot, or the complete life story of Jarošek the Brave in Nilfgaardian.
NARRATOR – Vernon sets his cup down on the table and gives you a questioning look. You respond with the faintest shrug.
MAGPIE – Found them! Here, look what beauties they are!
NARRATOR – The old woman returns, dragging two long bundles behind her. With some effort, she thumps them down on the table, nearly knocking over several jars.
MAGPIE – So I bought each of you a sword… You’re soldiers now, after all. Can’t very well do without one!
NARRATOR – She unwraps the cloth. Two blades lie before you.
UMBRA [Easy: Success] – Those are—!
BOND OF STEEL [Impossible: Success] – Your swords. No doubt about it. Steel and silver. A witcher’s pride, sold for twenty orens. A mad old woman’s gift to sons who don’t exist.
MAGPIE – I bought them at a shop the other day. Dirt cheap, too! I don’t usually bother with shops — there’s plenty of good stuff lying around in the streets. All you have to do is bend down and pick it up. But this time it was as though someone whispered, “Go have a look, Bozhena. There’s something waiting for you there.” So I did. The shopkeeper turned out to be very polite, too — didn’t try to gouge me on the price… This shiny one is for you, Wacek. And the dark one is for Mirek. Just don’t fight with them in the house, or you’ll scare the kittykins.
STEADINESS [Easy: Success] – That was astonishingly easy, considering that until now even the smallest thing has required a completely disproportionate amount of effort.
ELOQUENCE [Trivial: Success] – Thank her and make your excuses. Time to go, before the old woman wears you out with questions.
YOU – Thank you for taking such good care of us, Mother. We couldn’t have asked for a better gift.
NARRATOR – You carefully take up the swords and, without exchanging a word, rise to your feet.
VERNON ROCHE – Unfortunately, it’s time for us to return to the barracks. Leave or no leave, duty won’t wait.
MAGPIE – Oh, not duty again! You’ve only just come back, and already you have to run off! What kind of commanders do you have, to be so strict? You could at least stay the night with your mother.
NARRATOR – There is genuine hurt in her voice.
SENSIBILITY [Medium: Success] – Don’t linger. The longer you stay, the harder it will be for her to let you go a second time.
YOU – We’ll come back, Mother. We promise.
NARRATOR – You head for the door.
DOMINANCE [Challenging: Success] – Stop. You’ve forgotten something.
YOU – What could I have forgotten? We definitely have the swords.
DOMINANCE – A return gift for Mother Dear. You know exactly what.
YOU – What is this, good-deed week?..
DOMINANCE – Think of it that way. Considering everything you’ve done lately, it would only be fair. Just don’t imagine this is some kind of indulgence that wipes away all your sins at once.
VICE [Challenging: Failure] – But there must be at least three hundred orens in that pouch, maybe even more!.. We could put that money to much better use…
DOMINANCE – Stop whining. Mother Dear comes first.
YOU – Oh, I nearly forgot. We brought you a present too… Been setting a little aside from our pay every month. Here, Mother Dear. There should be enough to feed both you and the kittykins.
NARRATOR – You hand Bozhena the pouch Leuvaarden gave you.
VICE – And once again, we’re penniless…
MAGPIE – Thank you, my boys! I knew you wouldn’t forget me.
NARRATOR – You bow and take another half-step toward the door.
MAGPIE – Look at you now, such handsome boys… So important, so serious. And you used to be such little terrors! How time flies… Come here, let your mother give you a kiss goodbye. May the gods watch over you! Come back more often, and don’t forget your old home.
MASQUE [Easy: Success] – We won’t forget, Mother Dear… Ah, I can feel the tears welling up… What a touching scene…
UMBRA [Challenging: Success] – What is this strange feeling? As though this is what you’ve been missing all these years… You’ve wandered a thousand roads, but when was the last time you went home and saw your mother and father? And where is that home now? Does such a place even exist anywhere in the world?
NARRATOR – Bozhena embraces each of you in turn, then traces some strange symbol in the air.
VERNON ROCHE – Take care of yourself… Mother.
NARRATOR – For a moment, something seems to change in his voice. Or perhaps you only imagined it. You step outside, gently pull the door closed behind you, and walk away. The cats watch you go with suspicion.
UMBRA [Medium: Success] – Bozhena is alone again. But for half an hour, at least, her sons finally came home.
VERNON ROCHE – That went much better than I feared. Here, Mirek, take this. This one’s for monsters, as I understand it…
NARRATOR – Roche smirks and hands you the silver blade.
DEFTNESS [Medium: Success] – Your palm recognizes the hilt… With one quick, familiar motion, you sling the sheathed sword across your back. Its reassuring weight makes you feel stronger.
FORTITUDE [Easy: Success] – Now that’s more like it. No memory, no money, barely a shred of dignity left — but at least you’re armed again.
VERNON ROCHE – You did the right thing, giving her that pouch of orens. First, she needs the money far more than you do. Second, money obtained that way would have brought you nothing good.
VICE [Easy: Success] – That’s debatable! Money rarely cares how you came by it. Usually it just sits in your purse and feels perfectly fine.
YOU – So what now?
VERNON ROCHE – Now we have another difficult conversation ahead of us — this time with the mysterious pani Karmen. Come along.