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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded	By : dschinny Category: +S through Z > Witcher 2, The: Assassins of Kings Views: 1938 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Witcher, this is purely for fun, and not profit

Chapter List
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Back to Midville
The Witcher 3 - Outskirts of Novigrad (Midnight)
https://youtu.be/SvcY0MUfvao?list=RDMM
Hector and Geralt woke as early as the roosters and the peasants of the village. The witcher went to see the Mayor about payment. He exchanged the donkey to replenish their supplies. They would keep stops to a minimum and agriculture products were cheaper in the countryside than even a small settlement like Midville.
Hector would bow out in the evening and make it to his home stead. He was no fool but he had seen enough of magic for a long time. He looked a bit better since he had received a blessing he believed in, but he should go home nevertheless and settle his rattled mind.
They saddled their horses and mounted up, leaving the village at first sunray. Hector was as practical about packing and riding, a good travel companion. He had not lost a limb, but he looked like he could start crying any moment. Nenneke was right, they had to give it a break and breathe fresh air.
They pushed their horses to a mile eating trot that was easy on the animals which had their oats, a strain for the riders. They were used to it and would eat in the saddle. Hector wasn’t talkative and Geralt’s mind wandered off.
Hector -and Mosaik through him, even the leshen had confirmed Velita in chains. Bad impression, but the witcher trusted Velita would not do anything to enrage the count if she was held prisoner. If Velita had fled, she was bright enough to have a plan of sorts. If she was caught nevertheless, too bad, but he trusted that Gernot would handle the situation until he arrived.... to take care of the issue that would “adjust itself,” as Nenneke had promised, but that was “contaminating the Pontar,” as Mosaik had put it.
If mages were drawn to this like sharks in the water were drawn to blood, he had to return and get to the bottom of this.
-oOo-
Witch Hunters
https://youtu.be/PYreVlmMh9E?list=RDMM
They were about to stop at an encampment place that was favored by travelers because a clear rivulet crossed the road as the witcher smelled fresh bloodshed and drew blank immediately, before they even saw the coach.
It was standing by the side without horses. There was no fire but a heap of matte golden fabric that lay at the door that hung open and swung in the autumn wind. “The lordship of Midville?” Hector recognized the coat-of-arms and dismounted immediately, turning his horse for cover as he stepped into his bow to string his weapon.
The witcher noticed the human and elven odor as it faded in the air, but the place appeared deserted.
Elvish archery skills were a match even for a witcher’s reaction span. Geralt cast Aard, threw Roach around to be no easy target and pushed the mare through the under bush that surrounded the encampment. He did not check for footprints yet, just followed his nose and made sure there was no immediate danger to be shot from the shrubs before he returned to the open space. A corpse in Midville livery was splayed on seat; the blood had darkened but not dried up yet. He lifted the helmet a bit and recognized Kevin. He had been shot through the neck but the arrow had been removed. From the severe damage to the spine and the impression up in the boards that was surrounded by blood splatter, it had been an elvish twin bow or an extreme crossbow.
The witcher dismounted to check the woman’s corpse beside the coach. There was a small stab wound on her back that had not soaked much of the brocade fabric. Most of the blood tainted the wide hem of the multi layered skirts of the courtly robe that had billowed like a huge cushion as the thin body sank to the ground in the center. The woman’s grey up-do had been held in place by jewelry that had been removed. Some pearls had slipped the robbers attention or not been precious enough to be worth the risk of picking them up. A single one was probably worth 15 orens, therefore mere poverty could be ruled out as motive for this robbery. The woman was dressed up like a noble, but much older than the woman he had seen on the family portrait in the mansion’s hall. “Do you recognize her?” The witcher asked Hector.
“No, but I guess that’s the Countess’ Lady-in-Waiting. The Countess would not travel without her.”
The Countess with the woman murdered, who else? The witcher wondered and had a sniff into the coach. The Count’s odor mark was missing. Another woman and a girl. Gernot’s daughter?! He had never seen her, but he knew her name was Anne.
“What brings her ladyship out here?” – “I have no idea. It is customary for the nobles to visit each other once the winter preparations are done, but it’s early for that. To let the countess travel with ball robes, jewelry and just one guard? That is inviting trouble. See, the luggage has been opened as well, though most of the bulk was left behind.”
“Not sure if it was just one guard.” The witcher signaled Roach to stay and went for an in deep search of the tracks. The coach had been accompanied by a horse of similar hoof prints as Hectors, far lighter than Roach or the count’s fox, no palfrey from the situation of prints. That narrowed it down to Cricket or a newly hired guard on a light thoroughbred. Likely, Gernot had accompanied his countess, his daughter and two other women, then as the hoof prints turned around, left in the direction of Midville. Just one other set of hoof prints was as fresh in that direction. It came from the front of the coach and was as heavy as the Captain’s grey horse or the late guards’ brown would be. Somebody had taken a horse from the coach and accompanied Gernot?! His daughter hopefully?
The witcher returned to the coach. Small footprints of women were in a line beside the lady-in-. waiting’s corpse. Slippers, two pairs. Even smaller boots, one pair. This one was interesting, leading over the encampment, someone small ran and fought, large boot prints behind the small ones, blurred by fabric, impression of knees and skirts wiping the ground. Further tracks on the wiped ground - pity Hector had turned his horse on those as they entered the scene. The distinctive small tracks were led off to the side, followed by the slight impression made by narrow elven boots. They were joined by the footprints of slippers, two pairs, and more elvish boots as they left the beaten ground and kicked up the leaves under the bushes. No such luck as Anne taking a horse from the gear to follow her father after the robbery.
“I miss Balon.” Hector sighed. He could look at tracks and interpret them, but without his dog he felt like half the man he usually was in such affairs.
“I gather that it was the countess with the killed lady-in-waiting, another maid and a girl, likely Gernot’s daughter Anne in that coach. Kevin was murdered on the spot as he drove and a rider accompanied them, Gernot most likely. After the robbery, Gernot left on his horse in the direction of Midville accompanied by a rider on the coach’s horse. The three surviving women were lead into the woods by elvish warriors… three if I counted that right.”
“Why should Gernot accept anybody’s company over his daughter or the countess’ he is sworn to protect?”
“Because they were both taken hostages by elven,” the witcher offered.
“It’s the elven leader who accompanies him,” Hector concluded.
“Yes. We better be careful. In Pontar valley, that would be Iorveth.”
“Daamn!”
“How much do you hate elves?”
“Ah... it’s not like I hate the elvish as a whole race. I even get along decently with the few elven individuals I know. But if any shit occurs in the woods between Flotsam and Midville, Iorveth is the one who shovels it. Your monster was an exception, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Iorveth planted that into Gernot's forest somehow. The local nobility ducks and whenever King Demavend manned up and gathered a battau, Iorveth just hops over the Temerian border. Seems that King Foltest got enough recently, sent his Blue Stripes who pushed Iorveth back over to the Aedirnish side, but that doesn’t change the Scoia'tael’s game: murder, robbery, human trafficking embellished in the political frame.”
“A freedom fighter to the elven, a terrorist to the humans,” the witcher concluded.
“Yes. Especially to the human nobility. Iorveth is said to not harass the poor, even to help at times… but that propaganda doesn’t quite match with the human trafficking over the border at Flotsam.”
The witcher cut the complaints short. That was about Gernot and his daughter. “I see two options: we could follow the track of the women into the wood, take on three elven warriors on their own territory and hope they don’t expect to be followed as soon. Or we could race to Midville and turn tables on Iorveth, take him hostage and request the return of Anne.”
“Two against three is risky, especially since they don’t value their hostages’ lives. The countess pregnancy won’t slow them down. They’ve got a horse and plenty of rocky terrain that makes tracking difficult. Without Balon, we won’t be able to follow up speedily. If we fight one elven each, the third has time to kill the hostages. Three against one with surprise on our side is comfortable. The elvish value Iorveth highly. An exchange against three women will be a bargain for them if we manage to not hurt Iorveth severely.”
“Alright. Let’s hurry up.” – “Leave the bodies?” – “Yes. We can drop an order at the miller’s tavern to help and secure that.” The witcher mounted up. He was ready to go down that path alone, but Hector followed suit.
   -oOo-

The Witcher 3 OST - Ladies of the Woods (Extended)
https://youtu.be/SiyOajnJnTg?list=RDMM
It took them about an hour to catch up. Hector had his bow ready, the witcher had a small but nasty crossbow that would be sufficient on an elven in rag-tag armor.
Somehow, the two riders didn’t seem to care much about the commotion. Iorveth’s elven ears must have picked up the hoof beat long before Gernot. But it was Gernot who reacted first, looked over his shoulder “Hector? …and Geralt?!” he pulled Cricket around immediately. His unstrung bow staid at his quiver as the forester raised his hands made himself as big as an average man could get, but the Scoia'tael leader turned the horse behind him and put an arrow on his bow.
“Stand down please, I have offered Iorveth hospitality for an audience with the Count!” Gernot called over the shrinking distance.
Geralt stopped aiming immediately and raised his crossbow vertically. “My name is Geralt of Rivia, a witcher. We have found the bodies you left behind, Ain Seidhe. But if you take the arrow down as well, I will honor Gernot Forester’s truce and we will talk.”
“Why should I talk to you, witcher?”
“You probably want to explain your point of view as the leader of the Scoia'tael and save us all the trouble to bundle you up like an exchange gift for the Ain Seidhe who dragged three women into the bushes.”
Iorveth took the arrow down since the other man followed the witcher’s lead. “I thought witchers vowed neutrality?”
“Under conditions, that don’t include pointing arrows at me or acquaintances.”
“You did so beforehand. You happen to know this servant of the count of Midville?”
“Yes, his name is Gernot Forester and his daughter is named Anne. I believe that your associates have taken her hostage.”
“That was merely a collateral effect. He will get her back once I am done with the lordling.” Iorveth’s voice picked up a mocking tone, “How did you make the acquaintance of Forester’s juvenile daughter?”
“Not in person, I’ve been working with Gernot for some days.”
Iorveth found that interesting. “When?” He tried to narrow it down. All the suspects gathered in one spot - that would make a short process.
“Since you asked five questions in a row, here is one for you: What is the matter of the audience with the Count?”
“A natural monument near Midville was destroyed four days ago. I have been asked to investigate on behalf of my people.”
“What was destroyed?”
“A well was tainted red, poisoned or contaminated. Do you happen to know something about that?”
“No. My contract was not about water but to hunt down a leshen for the Count. The remains were properly incinerated at the bathhouse before I left. For the waste water of Midville, that was not drinkable before.” The witcher blocked the accusation, but noted that trouble was about water – again. Something was wrong and he would do his own investigation before he said or did something.
“An interesting job, such a leshen. The Ain Seidhe respect them greatly and gave them way. As the wilderness has withdrawn to few refuges, the leshen became almost as rare as green dragons.”
“Rare or not, this one killed two dozen humans before Gernot and I got it. From the shape of it, it was a peculiarity.”
“The count paid you well?” – “He paid the fee as agreed beforehand.” – “Got a table for monster-take-out-prices?” – “There is a guideline that takes the efforts into account and prevented witchers from outbidding each other in the past.”
“…which isn’t quite the risk it once was. How many wolf school witchers are left? Twenty? Ten?”
“Not enough for fierce competition all over the continent but sufficient for splendid Jul parties.” the witcher shrugged. “Are there enough elves left to form a state and bolster your public appearance?”
“And if there was just a single Ain Seidhe left, I would fight for his rights.”
“You might get to that if you continue to prefer murder over communications. People will get back at you and your folks.”
“They have done so beforehand.”
Behind the witcher and the elven leader arguing, the hunters had fallen into a second line. They passed the branching where Hector would have to split, but the fellow hunter just shook his head. “I will accompany you. I just have to drop off a letter in Midville so my family doesn’t worry. I took just two days off, not three.” – “I didn’t even realize you went to such lengths.” Gernot whispered, “Velita did not show up. But there are some hints that the Count has locked her up in his own wine cellar. Once the Count is busy with Iorveth, we’ll get a chance to break her out and then Geralt can move her out of the district. Over on the Kaedwenish side, she would be safe.”
   -oOo-
Blood and Wine
https://youtu.be/aVjeFnsxwz4
It was late when they arrived at Midville, the gates were already closed. Some lights from the top stories shone over the palisade. They took the surrounding road, past that beaten track that lead to the healer’s hut. Iorveth ignored that location completely to protect his spy from suspicions.
The full moon rose as they rode up to the compound. There was no light in the swine herds hut. That wasn’t unusual, but there was no light in the mansion or the chevalier’s house, either. In the cold silver glow, the main gate was just closed, not locked from the inside. Gernot dismounted and handed the reins to Hector. He took helm, but realized that behind him, the witcher had drawn his sword and the elven had put an arrow on his bow. The dogs in the kennel behind the far barn started up a commotion once the hunter entered, “Hiyoo?”
Sean wasn’t around. The courts stayed deserted despite the angry yapping in the kennels.
“Let’s search the buildings.” Gernot proposed, “This is not natural.” The chevalier’s house was locked, but Gernot got the keys. Nobody was home. Sean’s room was as empty as Kevin’s who had packed everything for the long journey. But where to?” – “Let’s have a look in the stable, find out who is probably around before we start searching on mansion, which will take much longer.” – “True.” They got lanterns and went across the court.
The stable door wasn’t locked either. Arya was the only soul in there, and she was desperate. Gernot went into the box with her, the water bowl was empty and he couldn’t be sure if she had been fed. He did not even have bottled water on him and felt really sorry that he had to lock her up again. If he wanted to use the rest of the pack to search the mansion, he couldn’t perfume the site with a bitch in heat. He was still telling her sorry as the witcher returned “Not a single horse left. The count’s fox and the palfrey, both gone. Nobody locked the chicken inside; I can still hear some of them in the garden.” Gernot sighed and went to close the gate to save the remaining chicken.
“Wait,” the witcher stopped him. “I need to have a look in the garden anyway. I will lock it afterwards.” Four men would be even hungrier tomorrow. No use to let predators get lucky in the meantime. ‘Look at this,’ the witcher winked to Gernot silently from the far end of the aisle and lifted the lantern. The spillage of the indoor trough ran deep red. The water had been contaminated indeed. None of them felt the need to tell Iorveth though. The water did not smell bad, but the color was strange. The witcher drew a sample and got a bucket from the pile in the aisle. He had to check the emergency water supply.
Iorveth stayed in the court with Hector. He had not expected the count to flee altogether with his servants. Had the countess tried to flee as early as yesterday? What had happened here?
Gernot stepped into the court while the witcher closed the stable door behind them.
“It seems that the Count has left without telling me.” Gernot informed Iorveth, “It is late and therefore I would be honored if you accepted my hospitality. I offer you a room in the chevalier’s house for the night. I have to search the mansion to find out about my lord’s whereabouts. Maybe even inquire in Midville tomorrow. For tonight, the city gates are closed.
“Don’t you worry about your daughter, Forester?”
“Of course I worry. But as you can see, there is nothing more I can do about it. I already risk severe punishment for housing you. I count on your fairness, Iorveth. You are standing at my side, you see what I see. The situation surprises me as much as you. But I am a forester, not a miracle worker.”
Meanwhile, the witcher slunk out of the elven’s view and vanished behind the corner of the stable. He moved to the hut at the outer wall and set down the lantern to check for the remains of the twines that had blossomed so beautifully on the day he had kissed Velita good bye. There was nothing left above the ground. As Nenneke had said, the reddish vines had grown together and run off to Ellander.
Geralt undid his riding gloves and dug his fingers into the soft ground. Embedded in the fresh humus and old horse manure, two little stubs remained. The two stubs were tale-tells of a phase of growth of a tiny leshen. Compare the size of those stublets and the tiny leshen with the size of stub he had chopped out at the holy well… he ended up with dimensions higher than the hill behind the mansion. The second ‘stub’ of the size of an altar was probably somewhere behind the rock formation with the canyon. Or down in the valley. It was just embedded in the ground so nobody had ever seen or worshipped it as a pole.
The leshen he had killed was not the original being that sprouted there …before the merging of spheres maybe? It was just a tiny little something compared to this original force of nature. It was a mere ulceration hopping around accidentally and causing trouble before he cut it down. The stub he had cut out afterwards, that was more like a very old and dried up umbilical cord… now he could understand Nenneke’s expectation that the remainder would stop bleeding on its own. It already had once. Nothing was forever and the remains would just retract a bit more.
With that in mind he could shoo the chicken into the stable, he closed the sluice and went to the rain tub, filled a bucket. The water was clear and he tilted the bucket to wash his hands. From now on, he was back on the moral high ground. He refilled the bucket for Arya and went back to the court.
Iorveth was still standing around as the witcher opened the stable gate and slipped in, the elven leader followed. Arya huffed out a bark at the newbie and Gernot decided to bring her the water himself. Iorveth looked at the dog. So there were survivors. Water trickled through a ditch in front of the dividers. He lowered his lantern, it was red. He sniffed. “I have taken a sample already,” the witcher mentioned behind him “I will analyze it later, for now we stick to rain water, boil it for human consumption.”
Gernot winked the witcher over to the saddle chamber. Geralt slipped in briefly while Iorveth followed the red rivulet to the trough and the trickle that flowed out of the pipe embedded in the wall. “That and there should be plenty wine and beer in the cellar.”
The witcher emerged from the saddle chamber, his nostrils flaring slightly. “I would like to check out the mansion now,” he passed the court with brisk strides. Gernot caught up with him as he reached the kitchen door. It was locked. “I’ve got the key.” Gernot called to prevent the witcher from going in gate crashing. “What’s that?” he picked off a letter that was pinned to the wooden door and opened it to narrate the contents quickly for everybody to hear, “It says that the Count is missing and a monster is in the cellar. Cass and the steward fled to Midville with Fabian. They also took the carriers and Sean.”
Gernot informed the others and handed it to Iorveth to see for himself. “I cannot guarantee for the mansion under the circumstances. As your host, I have to ask you to withdraw and take quarter in the chevalier’s house for your own safety while I search for the Count.”
“I would like to accompany you.”
“It’s the life of my daughter that depends on your wellbeing. The steward considered the treat serious enough to take my son and flee to Midville. Please stand back or give me a written pass in case that you are injured because of your own decision.”
“You can go in first. I’ll guard the court in the meantime.”
Gernot didn’t make a face and unlocked the door. As a robber, Iorveth knew that a safe get-away was as crucial as advance.
The Witcher 3 OST - The Wolf And The Swallow
https://youtu.be/JNNm7xfKIyQ?list=RDMM
The kitchen was in disarray like the cook had dropped everything in the middle of yesterday’s lunch preparation. It was cold also, like nobody had mended the fire last night. The uncooked roast on the table was dried but the meat did not stink due to the frost that had entered the basement. Gernot went for the cook’s quarter. It was empty, but Fabian’s clothing was missing, some of his toys still lay around. The witcher and Hector followed him silently. The carrier’s quarter was empty and orderly; the slaves had not left any of their few belongings behind.
“Let me check out the basement, alone.” the witcher huffed under his breath. “Monsters are a witcher’s business.”
“There are some hints that the Count had locked up Velita in his own wine cellar two nights before he ordered me out.”
“You could have bought her out, why didn’t you get to her?”
“First the Count denied selling her, and then he insisted she was gone. I could not prove him a liar without putting Velita in grave danger.”
“Three days without food and drink, that’s dangerous,” the witcher snapped back.
“We will find her. Want me to get the axes from the garden hut?”
“No need. I can blast the door open when necessary. You two just stay here in the kitchen. When anything comes upstairs that is not me, you. just. run.”
   -oOo-
The witcher briefly considered his next actions. The letter had not mentioned which kind of monster had come from the basement. He had killed a leshen in the wood. Another leshen had run off to Ellander. A third leshen in the basement?! That would be somewhat cliché. Besides, how should a force of green nature get into a basement anyway? He would not request payment until the traces turned up that the monster had nothing to do with his previous contact. It was an opportunity to get Velita out of the count’s hold permanently.
The witcher drew his sword, cast Igni on the blade and went downstairs. There was no sound but the scent of innards, blood and wine hung in the staircase. Velita’s scent was around as well and it wasn’t older than a day. Meat storage, untouched but locked. Vegetable cellar, unlocked but orderly. Wine cellar, door half open, a ring of keys stuck in the lock from the inside. The witcher nudged it open with the tip of his sword and spied down. His enhanced eye sight gave him a full impression of the mess downstairs. He pocketed the keys so he could not be locked in the cellar as he advanced.
The wine cellar had been turned into a torture chamber with iron chains ending in manacles that hung over a sturdy table. A broken barrel lay in the far corner, shards and litter and wine were spilled on the floor. A mutilated body lay in the far corner beside an iron mesh that held some bigger shards of glass. Thankfully, it wasn’t Velita but a grown man’s corpse in a dark leather tunic, naked below the belt.
Nothing moved. The witcher moved downstairs cautiously. No monster hid behind the line of barrels on the right side of the aisle. The top row of the barrels had been punctured with holes as big as his lower arm and there wasn’t much wine left in them. Apparently, the monster had no regard for dead meat or veggies, but it had a great appetite for wine.
And human body fluids as the witcher concluded as he turned the body over. The count’s pudgy face was covered stained by dried blood darkened by gore. Dead since about two days. The body was far lighter than a man of that height should be, likely because most of his innards had been broken, swirled and drawn out through a fist sized puncture wound between his ass cheeks.
Not the kind of shitless death any man would wish for.
The witcher was used ugly sights, but what really made him sick was the fact that Velita’s scent hung above the whole scene. Her mating scent had been attractive but under the circumstances it became confusing. That perfume really did not match the ugly surroundings. Where was she? There were skid marks in the litter and all along the staircase. Something heavy had moved upstairs. The leshen had no scent of its own, but the wine, the blood and the guts had rubbed off at the surrounding surfaces. He followed the tracks upstairs into the aisle behind the kitchen.
“The monster is a leshen, but it is no longer in the basement or cellar. From the tracks I found, some sort of leshen was probably grown in this cellar by the Count. I could not ask him because he is dead. You can inform Iorveth that I found the Counts corpse in the wine cellar. He can have a look at it later. For now I have to secure the rest of the building and search for Velita. It smells like she was held in the wine cellar in the past days, but so far I could not find her. It looks like the leshen went upstairs, maybe took Velita with it. I will search those rooms.”
“That would mean the lordships quarter?!”
“None of the nobility left to complain. I have to find Velita and kill the leshen.”
“True.” Gernot agreed.
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Sleeping Beauty Reloaded