Characters · The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Remastered

Otrygg an Hindar, Jarl Donar's grandson and heir, was the youngest of the claimants to Skellige's throne. He dreamed of the heroic deeds and daring raids he would one day lead his subjects in accomplishing.

Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon – what can I possibly say about her? That we call her Ciri for short, that she was born in 1251, that she has ashen hair and a scar on her cheek? All true, and that's the Cirilla I know best, the one I first laid eyes upon those many years ago, the one who seemed thoroughly, well, not ordinary, but certainly not as extraordinary as she in fact is. For Cirilla is also a highly-skilled witcher, heiress to several thrones, the last bearer of the Elder Blood, a powerful Source endowed with exceptional magic talent and the Lady of Time and Space. Her hair color and date of birth seem... rather incidental now, don't they? I could also tell you she is Geralt's adopted daughter – but that would be a gross simplification. Ciri is much more. She is his Destiny, his Unexpected Child, someone bound to the witcher by Fate's most inextricably tangled fetters. Following age-old witcher tradition, Geralt took Ciri to Kaer Morhen when she came into his care. There he and Vesemir taught her in the ways of the professional monster slayer. It was then that her magic talents were first revealed, and they discovered she was a Source. Ciri's gift proved a curse as well. Because of it, she would one day have to hide from the entire world – even Geralt.

Geralt and I had long known that Chappelle, Chancellor of Security for the Church of the Eternal Fire in Novigrad, had died years ago and been replaced by a doppler masquerading under his name. We didn't breathe a word of this to anyone, of course, for the change was decidedly in everyone's best interest. The doppler had proved a reasonable creature deprived of the true Chappelle's cruelty, and under his watch life in the city had much improved. Sadly, the chancellor's conciliatory style must have raised suspicions as a wave of terror and persecution began to swell over Novigrad. The doppler was found out, arrested and burned at the stake for the greater glory of the Eternal Fire.

News of the Nilfgaardian army's approach led nobles of all ranks and orders to pack up their silver and flee posthaste to safer harbors, abandoning all thoughts of defending their patrimony and leaving their lands at the invaders' mercy. Lord Vserad was no exception to this rule. The magnate had ruled much of Velen from his base at Crow's Perch before fleeing with his family to take shelter in a tower on Fyke Isle. The safety he sought there was not, however, to be found, and the massacre in which he was slaughtered became the source of a great many ghastly rumors and legends.

Baroness Maria Louisa la Valette was the talk of Temeria in her time. This noblewoman had been King Foltest's mistress and even bore him two illegitimate children. This caused quite the scandal and prompted several notable families to take up arms in revolt, only to be bloodily crushed by the king's forces, who took La Valette Castle during a hard-fought siege.

Geralt's encounter with the crazed man building an enormous ship while conversing with the cut-off heads of his former crew was, to say the least, an unusual experience.

When the children in the swamp clearing first told Geralt about Johnny, the witcher had every reason to suppose no such person actually existed. It was difficult to imagine anyone living in such inhospitable surroundings without quickly becoming food for drowners or water hags. Geralt thus suspected Johnny was the figment of childish imaginations, an imaginary friend for lonely orphans. Long years of experience, however, told him not to ignore any possible lead, so he decided to search the nearby swampland for any additional signs of Johnny.

The saying "like father, like son" fits Crach and his first born son to a tittle. Young Hjalmar took after his father in both posture and character, and many predicted that in time he would overtake his elder in the honor and fame he would gain. An extremely able, broad-shouldered swordsman, he had the makings of a superb warrior, and his charisma and tendency towards almost mad bravura meant he could stir the hearts of loot- and glory-craving youth from all Skellige's clans.

The dour-faced jarl of Faroe owed his nickname to the dark coloring of his hand and forearm, left there by frostbite he suffered when his longship hit an underwater boulder during a freak autumn blizzard. Even judging by Skellige standards, where pillaging and plundering are practically rites of passage, Holger was considered a brutal pirate and raider. This opinion surely resulted from the fact that he attacked the villages and ships of enemy Skellige clans with as much verve as he did the coastal settlements of Cidaris, Novigrad and Nilfgaard.

Graham was a simple fisherman from an even simpler village, Oreton, yet the role he had played in local events was anything but. Fyke Isle, the tower, the curse - he had been a key part of it all. Geralt had learned from Anabelle about the deep feelings the two had shared, but the rest of their tragic story only emerged later…

When Geralt encountered a misshapen midget at the Bloody Baron's court, he didn't think much of it. Yet when he heard a similarly deformed being had washed up on Skellige's shores in the same boat in which Ciri and her mysterious companion had sailed off shortly prior, he connected the two at once. It was clear this rough-hewn hunk of flesh was the key to finding Cirilla.

The hermit who lived on the isle on Lac Célavy had become the guardian of the duchy’s Five Principle Virtues. This virtuous man watched over the boulders on which the virtues had been engraved and put any knights who came by through a trial to prove they embodied them. When the witcher arrived at the isle and met with the hermit, it seemed to him it was not their first encounter. Only later did he find out how right he was.

Geralt was not expecting to meet Bernard Ducat, former head of Temerian intelligence, in such circumstances. Their relationship went back a long ways, to the time when Ducat was leading an espionage operation in the Vizima Temple District disguised as a fence named Thaler. Thaler the fence was known for his gruff manners and extremely filthy tongue. Much had changed since those days, but Clogs the cobbler (as Ducat now called himself) was as rude and vulgar as Thaler had ever been. His exact role in the attack on Radovid was not clear, but considering his experience and professionalism, one could hardly expect him to share that information, not even with an old friend.

Considering the way spy corps of all stripes tend to function, "Hendrik" was undoubtedly not this man's real name. Nevertheless, that was the only appellation the witcher knew for His Imperial Majesty's nose to the ground in Velen. After asking around, Geralt learned a "Hendrik" lived in the village of Heatherton.

The devil Fugas held a position of great prestige and responsibility during the Crones' sabbath - that of goon restricting access to the peak. He in no way resembled Torque, the irritating but harmless "deovel" Geralt and I had encountered many, many years prior. In size, Fugas resembled a somewhat overgrown troll, and he likewise displayed a troll's lack of subtlety. There was not a jot of mischievous puck or cunning verbal trickster about this "devil." Instead, he did his job with the commitment and professionalism of a Novigrad bouncer. Trying to stop Geralt, though, turned out to be Fugas' dumbest and last idea, ending both his life and his flourishing career in the Crones' employ.

Most druids in Skellige differ from the deeply-rooted Continental stereotype of a graybearded old man in white robes bowing before sacred oaks, taming wyverns and pestering local lords with petitions to add yet another species to the list of protected beasts. Ermion, Geralt's old acquaintance, was no exception in this regard. This stiff-bearded, spindly man was the leader of the Druids' Circle in Skellige. He was also Jarl Crach an Craite's advisor on matters of magic and the mystical, as well as on any and all issues requiring more refinement than a well-timed uppercut or a hard-swung axe. Ermion was known to be obstinate and to have a tendency, quite rare in Skellige, to consider all possible consequences of a particular course of action before it was undertaken. All this meant that conversing with him demanded a considerable amount of time and patience.

The being trapped within Uma's tortured husk turned out to be Avallac'h – a powerful Sage of the Aen Elle elves. Geralt had made his acquaintance years before. Already during these prior encounters Avallac'h had displayed an intense and, frankly, rather unnerving interest in the Elder Blood and its bearer, Ciri. His exact motives were unclear at the time, and he had made no particular effort to explain them to Geralt. Geralt likewise had no idea what bound Ciri and the elf now. There was no doubt Avallac'h had helped her, had saved her numerous times from the Wild Hunt – but why? Alas, the Sage, quivering on a razor's edge between life and death, offered no answers to Geralt's burning questions. He did, however, muster enough strength to utter a crucial piece of information – Ciri's location.

The wave of religious and racially-motivated killings that swept through Novigrad in the spring of 1272 coincided with Hubert Rejk's term as coroner at the city morgue. Because of this he was overworked and additionally had to bear the harassment of his dislikeable superior, Reverend Nathaniel. It is thus no surprise that he came across as unpleasant and sarcastic when Geralt and he first met. Furthermore, it was clear there was bad blood between him and Joachim von Gratz, a fact that did little to improve the already rather stiff atmosphere at the morgue. Nevertheless, having learned the reason for Geralt's unexpected visit, Hubert made it clear Geralt and Joachim could count on his help.

Even for Skelligers, who value courage above all else, Vigi's fearlessness went far beyond the pale of bravery, deep into the realm of suicidal madness. This Clan Tordarroch warrior had strived to earn the right to be called Vigi the Unfearing. Instead, his actions earned him the nickname Vigi the Loon - and it seemed this outcome suited him just fine. It was Vigi who, craving glory and wanting to save his home isle from the Ice Giant, had convinced Hjalmar to brave the journey to Undvik. Many of their crew were killed during this expedition, and Vigi himself wound up a prisoner in the Ice Giant's cave.

Sylvia Anna… A lovely name, don’t you think? This beauty should come as no surprise, given it’s the name of the daughter of a duke and the sister of a duchess. Yet the fate Syanna (as her intimates called her) met was not as beautiful as might have been suspected for one so well-born – though, as it turns out, she had in truth been born rather inopportunely. She came into this world during an eclipse and thus fell victim to the panic surrounding the Curse of the Black Sun, which was said to affect young girls from ruling families birthed in similar circumstances. Though Geralt had serious doubts whether this curse truly existed, many claimed it caused horrible mutations which filled its victims with cruelty and a desire to kill. Syanna’s parents certainly seemed to be among the believers in the curse, for they deemed her too dangerous to be allowed to remain at court and forced her into exile. Syanna then fled to Nazair and soon, for all intents and purposes, dropped off the face of the planet.

Ves was a veteran officer of the Blue Stripes and the only soldier from Roche's former unit to have survived the war. After the Blue Stripes were decimated and officially disbanded, Ves remained at her commander's side to continue with him the seemingly hopeless struggle for Temerian freedom. Energetic and tough, Ves had always impressed with her skill with crossbow and sword alike, outshooting and outswinging all the men in her unit to a laughable degree.

Carduin of Kovir was once a wealthy and influential member of the Council of Sorcerers, a man known and respected by all the rulers of the North. After the Council imploded during the coup on Thanedd Isle, Carduin spared no expense in his quest to rebuild his brotherhood's hard-won position. This motivated him to take part in the eventful summit in Loc Muinne, during which a handful of mages seeking to reactivate the Council were forced to accept King Radovid's patronage. After that Carduin found himself on the king's leash, completely dependent on the whims and moods of a mad ruler whom he served not out of respect but fear. The mage's pride, however, forced him to don a brave face and play out the hand fate had dealt him.

During the soiree organized by the Mandragora, Geralt met Orianna, a valued patroness to many local artists. There was something about this woman that made most who met her feel somehow ill at ease. She could not break the witcher’s iron-hard self-composure, of course, but she did give him the impression she was no normal aristocrat – and his impressions were usually spot-on.

Geralt encountered this young woman's ghost in the uppermost room in the haunted tower on Fyke Isle. She told him that in life she had been the local lord's daughter. When enraged peasants stormed the tower, she feared they would ravage her honor if they found her alive and so took a magic potion that put her in a corpse-like state of paralysis. When she awoke, she found herself lying amidst the bodies of her family and servants, unable to move. She watched in helpless horror as rats feasted on the pile of corpses and began to nibble on her as well. This grisly death must have somehow put a curse on her and the tower, for her ghost had wandered it in restless torment ever since. Geralt engaged his vast experience with such curses to search for a possible solution. Having learned that Anabelle had loved a simple fisherman named Graham, Geralt decided this man and the bond of true love the two youths shared could be their salvation.

Milton’s murderer was very swift. Even with years of witchering under his belt, Geralt could barely keep up with him. Soon, it became clear the killer was as clever as he was fast, by entering an old warehouse where he set a trap for Geralt. In this way Geralt had his first face to face encounter with the Beast of Beauclair – and discovered it was a higher vampire named Dettlaff. A fight immediately ensued which might have ended very badly for the witcher, had he not been saved in the nick of time by an old friend, Regis, who put a stop to their battle. After that, Dettlaff fled away in a puff of fog…

A horse is more to a witcher than merely a means of locomotion – just ask any bandit who has taken a well-aimed hoof to the head during combat. Additionally, many a witcher has talked over the nuts and bolts of his current contract with his horse while staring at the stars shining above the lonely road, though Few would ever admit to this. Geralt named his every mount Roach, though no one really knows why or what Geralt had in mind with this name. When asked, Geralt would dodge the question or give an evasive answer. Perhaps this had just been the first word that came to his head? Roach, for her part, seemed to accept the name with no reservations. Geralt would grow annoyed and curse whenever Roach panicked and tossed him in the middle of a battle, as well as when she would suddenly turn a different direction than he wanted while he was riding at full gallop towards some urgent destination. In truth, though, he was very attached to her and would never trade her for any other horse. Not even one which, when summoned, would never stand helpless in front of a seemingly easily surmountable obstacle, such as a low fence or stray piece of timber. Nor even one which would sometimes, in some incomprehensible fashion, wind up dancing on some peasant’s roof. ”Well,” Geralt would say with a shrug. “A witcher’s horse isn’t a normal animal. Constant contact with magic beverages and Signs must have left a mark.”

Skellige sagas brim with praise for war chiefs and warrior-braves of ages past, yet the saga of Crach, jarl of Clan an Craite and lord of Kaer Trolde, will outshine them all. It will sing of his strength, his courage, his wisdom, his generosity, his loyalty to friends and his relentless pursuit of his foes. There will be few exaggerations in such a tale, for Crach, the mightiest of Skellige's jarls, truly did possess all the traits of a hero. He aroused terror in his enemies - in fact, Nilfgaardian mothers would use his name to frighten their children into obedience, and all in that empire spoke in hushed tones of the infamous Tirth ys Muire, the Wild Boar of the Sea, who devastated coastal provinces during frequent and terrible raids. Geralt had known Crach for long, since a time when as a young man the jarl had sought the hand of young Pavetta, Ciri's mother.

The young bootblack whose name Geralt never learned was an extremely charming scamp, in that cheeky, lovable rascal, street urchin sort of way. He also demonstrated striking entrepreneurial flair, so much so, in fact, that it got him into trouble at times. Geralt saved him from one such scrape by fending off a group of men intent on giving him a thorough tanning. The bootblack had done his share to deserve this, having spilled his wastewater in front of their shop every day in an attempt to muddy more boots and drive more customers his way.

Barnabas-Basil Foulty, the majordomo of Corvo Bianco, was a gentleman’s gentlemen if there’s ever been one. His whole life he had served distinguished nobles - the Kniebihly family, for example, or Admiral Rompally, for another – for he would never tolerate an employer who detracted from his personal dignity. Since Barnabas-Basil remembered the times of Monsieur Bolius and Baron Rossell, he was a wellspring of anecdotes about the vineyard’s past. He knew every corner and every secret of Corvo Bianco. An excellent administrator, he offered a wealth of good advice concerning the modernization and management of the estate. Geralt could not have hoped for better help. One could even say that, by entrusting Corvo Bianco to the hands of that marvelous majordomo, Anna Henrietta had given the witcher the most beautiful present he’d ever received, for a home without someone capable to care for it is no home at all.

To rob a vault, one must force open armor-plated doors and secret away mounds of loot. First and foremost, however, one needs to get inside the building containing said vault. To accomplish this, Geralt could use the help of a certain Eveline Gallo – a circus performer famed through all the North, and who, it seemed, used her considerable talents for less law-abiding purposes as well...

Geralt was racking his brains for a way to defeat Master Mirror when Shani came to his rescue. She knew of a professor from the Oxenfurt Academy who had spent years scrutinizing every manifestation of black magic and surely would be able to help. Unfortunately, the witch hunters had decided the professor's knowledge was best used for their goals and their goals only and had placed guards outside his home. Officially he was a free man, but in reality, no one entered or left the house without their permission.

Geralt was as intrigued as I was, and as I imagine you shall be, to learn higher vampire society is organized in a strict hierarchy based on age: the older a vampire, the greater his say in their matters and the stricter the punishment for going against his will. One extremely elder vampire lived in Beauclair, in the cave where he had been deposited during the Conjunction of the Spheres. Geralt and Regis decided they had to go see him to get his help in finding Dettlaff. The only problem was that the more ancient members of the vampiric race were not very… how to put this… amenable to company. This particular elder so deeply disliked visitors Regis trembled at the very thought of having to disturb his peace. Geralt had a difficult decision to make: should he risk a visit to the Elder’s domain, or try to find Syanna?

In a strange sequence of events Geralt found himself participating in the robbery of the Borsodis' Auction House in Oxenfurt. How this came about is a fascinating story – which must be left for another time. Let us here focus on a few facts: the witcher was tasked with putting together a crew of expert thieves and break-in artists. One of the candidates was a certain Casimir Bassi, a demolitions specialist who had cut his teeth in the mines of Mahakam...

The dwarves have been in the banking business since the legendary King Desmond of Temeria was just a snot-nosed brat in short trousers asking for more "yam" with his "bwed." Since then, the prominent dwarven banking families - the Giancardis, the Vivaldis and the Cianfanellis - have only expanded their services, establishing branches in all the larger cities of the North. Vimme Vivaldi carried the torch of this venerable tradition into modern times, growing the Novigrad branch of his family's bank until it was the largest in the city. Geralt and I had met him over a dozen years before our story begins and had always appreciated his honesty and financial acumen. The latter he gave further proof of during the time in which our story takes place, for his bank remained profitable even in the face of growing nonhuman oppression.

Philippa Eilhart, one-time advisor to King Vizimir II, called the Just, member of the Council of Mages and later founder of the Lodge of Sorceresses, had played a momentous part in the history of the world as well as in Geralt's life. There could be no denying her talent, yet neither could one claim she did not also at times demonstrate sickly ambition. Very trustworthy reports indicated she had had a hand in King Vizimir II's death, and, as a member of the Lodge, was implicated in the murder of two other monarchs as well - Demavend of Aedirn and Foltest of Temeria. For this reason the one-time "Jewel of the Court at Tretogor" was now a wanted woman, the quarry of special forces from the North and Nilfgaard alike.

As is often the case with charmers, diviners, healers and other such cunning folk of the countryside, the pellar of Blackbough was a man of mystery, around whom circled a great many rumors and legends. Some claimed he could commune with the dead, others, that he had a different sort of familiarity with the grave, having put an axe in his father's head in a fit of rage when he was a young man. Still others said he showed an indecent fondness for barnyard animals. All of these rumors aroused the fear and respect of the backwater peasants of Velen, and the pellar most likely did little to discourage them.

Reverend Nathaniel, supervisor of the city morgue and cleric of the Church of the Eternal Fire, was a man with a vile character - and a stormy past. Before donning the frock he had served for years as the city torturer. One would be hard pressed to find a more inferior candidate for a pastor than a former hangman - but, as the saying goes, in Novigrad anything is possible.

All witchers have a great deal in common, but with Eskel and Geralt, the similarities are particularly striking. They first met as two boys of the same age swinging wooden swords at Kaer Morhen. They then went through an ordeal together: the first round of selections, the murderous Changes, the Trial of the Grasses, and training on the Gauntlet - the witchers’ daunting obstacle course. They also received hidings together for more than one act of childish delinquency. When they became adults, they walked the Path separately, but still reconvened at Kaer Morhen nearly every winter to wait out the cold, drink to their successes and remember fallen comrades. Though Eskel never gained Geralt’s renown, he equaled the White Wolf in experience and carried out his contracts with care and efficiency. Death had almost taken him many times during his hunts, yet in an ironic twist the hideous scar on his face came not from a monster’s claw but from the blade of Deidre Ademeyn, his highly unpredictable Unexpected Child.

This Aen Elle elf was one of Eredin's advisors and also, on account of his extraordinary abilities, an important officer of the Wild Hunt. Calling on arcane magic Caranthir would guide the Riders of the Hunt along mystic pathways through time and space in order to reach other worlds. He was also a master of more immediate forms of transport, such as the teleportation he made ample use of during the attack on Kaer Morhen.

Auberon Muircetach, also known as King of the alders, was ruler of the far-off land of Tir ná Lia - the world which is home to Avallac'h and the Wild Hunt. He died after being poisoned by Eredin Bréacc Glas, who then declared himself king. At the time of his death Auberon had been exhausted and embittered by over six hundred and fifty years of living.

Geralt chased Sir Milton’s murderer with mad intensity. How this chase ended stands as clear witness to the fact Geralt was facing a highly dangerous foe: the killer led Geralt to an old warehouse, where it set a trap for him. A fight ensued, and at a crucial moment Geralt was saved by Regis, a higher vampire and old friend. Here I must explain that, years ago, Regis had joined Geralt’s band of fellow travelers (of which I was a proud part) and set off with us in search of Ciri. Together we lived through many fascinating adventures and Regis proved himself a loyal friend, the kind you can trust with your life. Sadly, the expedition ended tragically for Regis. He was killed by Vilgefortz, who reduced him to nothing more than a wet stain. Hence the witcher’s immense surprise at encountering his old friend – after all, he had seen Regis die with his own eyes. But the thing is, that was not Regis’ “final” death, nor even his first. As a young man, Regis had been a bit of a free spirit and overindulged in the drinking of blood. This lifestyle led to him being butchered by angry villagers. Regenerating from that took him fifty years – or nearly no time at all, for an immortal. When he was back in full health, he kicked the habit of blood drinking for good. For years, we’d all thought he was gone forever. Yet there he was, standing in front of Geralt in that dockside warehouse. Regis explained he had regenerated and come to Toussaint to find Dettlaff, a friend. Such were the dramatic circumstances bringing Regis and Geralt together again in Beauclair. They did not have long to enjoy their reunion, however. They could hear others approaching and Regis, not wanting to risk an encounter with angry humans, agreed to meet back up with Geralt at the cemetery where he had made an altogether comfortable temporary home for himself.

Intelligent, composed and endowed with massive charisma, Ge'els enjoyed the respect and trust of the inhabitants of the Aen Elle world as well as that of their previous ruler, Auberon Muircetach. For this reason Ge'els not only retained his high-ranking position after Eredin took power, but also became one of the new king's most powerful allies, acting as his viceroy while Eredin traveled at the head of the Wild Hunt. Though Ge'els was one of the most influential of the Aen Elle, power had never been among his driving aims. According to Avallac'h, his loyalty and sense of right and wrong constituted a weakness that could be used - possibly to tip the scales of the final battle.

Geralt has taken on a mad assortment of tasks in his life, many of which strayed far beyond his core trade of monster hunting. Recruiting a team to break into the vault in the Borsodis' Auction House, however, stood out as atypical even against this motley backdrop. One of the shady characters the witcher was told would make a good candidate was Quinto, the most famed safecracker north of the Yaruga.

It can be difficult for a woman to gain the esteem of knights and warriors not accustomed to seeing female hands on the reins of power. It helps little when, like Birna, widow of King Bran of Skellige, the woman seeking power is filled with acrid disdain for her countrymen and their customs. One might argue that disdain is a valid reaction when, in the case of the passing of a man of power who embodies tradition, those customs call on her to follow long since outdated ritual and cast herself on her husband's funeral pyre. Justified or not, Birna's desire to rewrite age-old Skellige traditions put her at odds with the jarls and made it unlikely she would be remembered alongside Calanthe of Cintra or Meve of Lyria as a successful and revered ruler.

The youngest among the witchers of Kaer Morhen, and perhaps the last ever trained within its walls, by the start of our tale Lambert had proven his chops many times over, having hunted down many a mighty beast and traversed nearly all the Continent's realms several times over. Yet he had also developed a reputation for arrogance and sardonic humor, and his gruff and at times excessively blunt manner could irritate even his fellow witchers of the School of the Wolf. Whatever his vices, it went without saying that Lambert would brave the fires of any hell for his companions.

The Crone known as Brewess was the middle of the three demonic sisters in terms of age - but the first in terms of size. Brewess was said to be a master concocter of magical mixtures, and, in the more ghastly legends, was said to know over a dozen different recipes for human soup.

In times of war one often encounters those who have suffered cruelly at the hands of fate. Geralt was thus not shocked to meet the woman who the children in the Velen swamps called Gran, though she seemed to have suffered manifold unspecified ills. Whatever her woes, it was clear she cared for the war orphans in her charge with love and devotion.

Geralt has escaped a great many predicaments, sometimes of his own doing, sometimes aided by others. One of the strangest helping hands was that extended to him by Master Mirror. The witcher was on an Ofieri ship, held captive and bound for a date with the gallows... when, out of nowhere, in came Master Mirror. He reminded the witcher of their first encounter, when he helped Geralt find Yennefer in White Orchard. Now he was offering help as well -- this time, for a price. In exchange for freeing Geralt from the ship, he demanded Geralt meet him at a certain crossroads. When the witcher agreed, a strange mark appeared on his face. It was as though Master Mirror had put a stamp on him to show they had entered into as pact – a suspicion later confirmed beyond all doubt...

During his first encounter with "Baron" Phillip Strenger, Geralt found the man's many contradictions puzzling. This former Temerian soldier was clearly an opportunist who, after his army's resounding defeat, served, dealt and negotiated with the occupying Empire of Nilfgaard. The local peasantry anointed him the "Bloody Baron," a clear indication that he did not handle his vassals with kid gloves. On the other hand, he proved a surprisingly gracious host to an unexpected guest who was also a stranger and a hired monster slayer.

When Geralt visited Olgierd von Everec to hear his third and final wish, he learned the rough and rowdy ataman had once been married. At some point he had left his wife, however, and gave her a violet rose as a parting gift. Geralt's task was to find this rose somewhere in the von Everecs' abandoned manor. When he arrived there, he discovered the estate was haunted by a malicious wraith tied to Olgierd's wife, Iris, who had died of loneliness years prior. Her rage and remorse now filled her former house with evil energy.

Irina Renarde's vast experience in the performing arts had made her not just the informal leader of the mummers' troupe known as the Foxen, but its brightest star as well. This talented artist was famous for her brilliant performances as the leading lady in both comedies and tragedies. Her performance in such acclaimed plays as "Love in a Time of Contempt," "The Barber of Kovir" and "Seven Brides for Seven Emperors" had made her name well-known to any with even a modicum of interest in culture and the arts.

Geralt had first encountered the Lady of the Lake when his search for what had been stolen from Kaer Morhen took him to the village known as Murky Waters. There a mysterious female being dwelled in the murky depths of the village’s namesake waters and watched over the residents living on the shores. Such was their esteem for their underwater guardian, they erected a monument in her honor. The Lady of the Lake once had many knights in her service, but they had all died, as valiant knights tend to, during campaigns in far-off lands. She now lived in near solitude, so was glad to accept Geralt’s company, the witcher being someone she liked and respected. Once the witcher had believed the Lady of the Lake was some kind of local goddess, but their reunion at Lac Célavy made him realize she did not dwell only in Murky Waters. Instead, the Lady of the Lake calls home any place where virtue and chivalry are honored.

Jarl Udalryk was an enigmatic figure to say the least. Some mysterious ill surrounded him, causing others to shirk his company.

I would wager anyone that you, dear reader, are a person of culture and taste – and therefore already familiar with me, Dandelion, and the role I am to play in the following tale. Nevertheless, allow me to sketch a few lines by way of self-portrait, for the sake of thoroughness, and in the event you have spent much of the last half-century in some dark corner where the light of my star has yet to reach. "Born in 1229, a talented poet and troubadour, a graduate of Oxenfurt Academy, a frequent performer at royal courts, an unequaled lover appreciated, and in some cases adored, by ladies worldwide, a skilled negotiator and a stirring orator" – such is the image of the bard Dandelion as painted by his friends and promoters. This image is, of course, somewhat overbright in its coloring – I personally prefer to think of myself as a dedicated artist in thrall to his Muse, one whose work has benefited immeasurably from the fact that I was, am and forever will remain a close friend and steadfast companion to the witcher Geralt. It is his fate I chronicle in this present work and his story which I shall sing till the end of my days.

As a poet and a romantic, I have immortalized in flowery verse the charms both corporeal and spiritual of many women. Yet when I open my mouth to sing the praises of Priscilla, I find - hard as this might be to conceive - that my throat constricts, words turn to meal in my mouth, and all elaborate turns of speech seem artificial and empty when compared to the natural beauty, talent, sensitivity and intellect nature has bestowed her. Priscilla (or Callonetta, the stage name under which she gained artistic renown) was, around the time of our story's beginning, enjoying the last stop on a triumphal tour of concerts that had taken her from the sumptuous courts of Lan Exeter and Pont Vanis, through Tretogor and Caelf, finally bringing her to the glorious city of Novigrad.

Tasked with finding the violet rose Olgierd had given his wife, Geralt traveled to the von Everec family's abandoned estate, which had become home to a host of strange and horrifying creatures. Among these were a black cat and dog who, though able to speak, chose to say very little about themselves. Geralt surmised they were demons from another sphere who had been summoned by black magic, trapped in animal bodies and bound to serve Iris von Everec. The enigmatic duo trusted Geralt would help them regain their lost freedom, even though he himself had no idea how he might go about doing such a thing.

The name of the King of the Wild Hunt, the identity of the lord of nightmares, the being behind the frightful mask - this long remained unknown. Over time, however, scraps of information gradually coalesced into a full likeness of our foe - but did nothing to detract from the terror he inspired. The Wild Hunt was in truth an elite cavalry brigade from the world of the Aen Elle, the Alder Folk, and was commanded by their ambitious and ruthless king, Eredin Bréacc Glas. He would travel via secret paths through the cold emptiness between his world from ours to capture victims and take them back to his homeland as slaves. The current object of his Hunt was Cirilla, whose power he wanted to harness for his own uses. The only obstacle in his path - Geralt of Rivia.

The witcher first met the raven-haired sorceress a good twenty years back. Their friendship and the feelings between them were born of a common adventure involving a genie and a wish granted to Geralt that intertwined their fates inextricably. In the time since then their relationship had, however, been quite stormy - rich in ups and downs, crises and break-ups. Geralt and Yennefer’s love provides irrefutable proof of the thesis that "opposites attract." A few years ago Geralt and Yennefer had, after a long separation full of adventures for them both, gotten back together again. Their moment of repose was interrupted by the Wild Hunt, which took Yennefer captive. The witcher set out at once to save her, but lost his memory while doing so. When he finally recovered it, he immediately set off once more on his quest to find his beloved sorceress.

Geralt was tasked with finding Vlodimir von Everec and showing him the time of his life. This would have been one of the witcher's least remarkable missions – had not Vlodimir been dead for years at this point. The mysterious Master Mirror did not think this much of an obstacle, however. He handed Geralt a vial of von Everec blood and told him of an incantation which would summon Vlodimir from the grave. Geralt thus journeyed to the von Everec family crypt and sought out the younger von Everec's place of burial.

Some friends you see after many years apart and you immediately develop a headache. Not out of antipathy, but as a somatic premonition of the hangover sure to follow your drunken reunion. Seeing others, however, gives you an itching pain in your back and a desire to reach for your blade. For Geralt, Letho of Gulet had a foot in both of these camps. This renegade witcher of the School of the Viper had the blood of at least two Nordling kings on his hands, the fruit of his cooperation with Nilfgaard's emperor, Emhyr var Emreis. Accused of these crimes, Geralt was forced to chase down Letho to clear his own name. Though both walked away from their final confrontation in the ruins of Loc Muinne alive and unharmed, Geralt did not think he would ever see Letho again. It thus came as quite a shock when he happened across Letho in a barn loft somewhere in the war-ravaged Temerian borderlands.

Bart, the troll guarding Dijkstra's treasure, could have been the poster boy for the latest craze among Novigrad's wealthy strata, a trend that had swept over everyone from bankers and merchants to underworld crime bosses. The fashion in question prized guards marked not just by fierce loyalty, but also by massive size, endless stamina and crushing physical strength. A well-developed intellect, on the other hand, was considered unnecessary and quite possibly detrimental to the guard's performance. To be blunt, a good watchman should be brainless enough to render any thought of betraying his master impossible. That is why trolls, ogres and, as a last result, magic crossbreeds were highly prized for such roles.

Few jarls of Skellige were as honored and obeyed as Donar an Hindar, the eldest of their number. Despite his advanced age he remained the active leader of his clan and its representative at all official gatherings. The only person able to break his composure was Madman Lugos, whose clan had long feuded with the an Hindars. Donar's home was, like Freya's temple, on Hindarsfjall. As befits a neighbor to the gods, Donar was famed for his wise, considered opinions and his piety. This last did not, however, extend to the gods of the Continent, whose rich sanctuaries he had often raided in his youth.

When he found himself witnessing a battle of brothers, Geralt chose to stand by his partner, Ewald, and with their combined strength they defeated Horst and his bodyguards. Ewald then repaid Geralt in the worst possible way: he tried to cheat him by keeping Maximilian's House for himself. Luckily the witcher kept a clear head and, instead of slaughtering Ewald at once, proposed a compromise both sides would find acceptable. Their paths parted soon afterwards, as Ewald left to manage his family fortune and Geralt returned to the Path of a witcher.

Milton de Peyrac-Peyran was a baron from Toussaint and a member of Anna Henrietta’s inner circle of knights. This good-humored nobleman never met an overloaded banquet table he failed to unload of its burdens, yet nor did he ever shirk a fight against heavily-armed bandits or any other enemies of the duchy. Geralt had met Milton years ago, under very peculiar circumstances that deserve to be recounted properly and at length. Their roads crossed again when Milton came to the witcher as the duchess’ envoy, to ask our hero to journey with him to Toussaint.

Many cannot fathom the friendship Geralt of Rivia and I, Dandelion, have shared all these years. When we first began breaking bread together, spiteful tongues said he'd be better off cutting my throat and dumping my body in a hollow tree - before I provoked someone else into doing the same to us both. Those individuals spoke out of pure jealousy, for Geralt was my dearest friend, a fact which he gave ample evidence of on numerous occasions. I could say a great deal about that world-famous monster hunter, the man known in Elder Speech as Gwynbleidd, or, in our younger (yet no less noble) tongue, as the White Wolf. For Geralt of Rivia is a truly exceptional individual. A brief encounter might tempt one to label him a mere swinger of swords, a simple monster-catcher, a rough-and-tumble practitioner of a dirty trade - but peer closer and you will soon discover he is a man of unplumbed depths, unique views and vast, world-spanning experience. On the surface, he is introverted, tight-lipped, one might even say gruff, but underneath lies an overflowing sea of goodwill, good humor, and an honest readiness to help his friends, be it with a bit of sound advice or the masterful application of his blade. Setting aside cumbersome false modesty, I can say that I know his story better than any man alive. I was with him through hard times and good, helping with wise advice, warm words and razor wit. As a result, I am a vital part of his story, both in its earlier and present portions. It is thus my duty to continue my chronicle and, for the benefit of future generations, put in writing the next chapter of his deeds and exploits.

We met Joachim von Gratz, chief surgeon at Vilmerius Hospital, in very unfortunate circumstances. My Priscilla had been attacked and he was tending to her wounds. I must admit I was so shaken I hardly remember our first meeting, save that he was a cool-headed doctor who seemed to know a great deal about the previous murders and offered his help investigating the matter.

It is my humble opinion that the most one can learn from staring at the innards of a gutted animal is whether the poor beast was infested with parasites. Nevertheless, Hjort, like many other druids of Skellige, placed a great deal of trust in both haruspicy and chiromancy (and oneiromancy as well, though that's more understandable, dreams being the royal route to one's soul). Word was that he commanded a great deal of respect and esteem amongst his fellow practitioners, having more than once accurately prophesied the future and interpreted the meaning of obtuse dreams. This druid was devoted to Clan Brokvar with all his heart, and his knowledge and ability made him an excellent advisor, one in whom the jarl of Spikeroog, Udalryk of Clan Brokvar, placed a great deal of trust.

While in Skellige Geralt finally had the chance to meet Cerys an Craite, the younger of Crach's two children. Known as Sparrowhawk to her friends, she was as fierce and swift as this name would indicate. Cerys was an islander through and through and the spitting image of her father, having inherited all his courage, resolve and stubbornness. Dauntlessly she sought to prove at every turn that there was no task she could not fulfill as well as - or better than - any man in the islands, including her older brother Hjalmar.

The full list of Margarita Laux-Antille's outstanding mental, spiritual and physical attributes would consume a mountain of parchment. Rita, as her friends called her, once held the position of rector at the Aretuza Academy for Sorceresses on the Isle of Thanedd - the same school attended by her famous ancestor, Ilona Laux-Antille. Quite unusually for one of her profession, Margarita showed no interest in politics - it was only care for the good of her school that led her to join the Lodge of Sorceresses. Finally, her beauty deserves mention as well. It was said that not even the marble likenesses of goddesses and nymphs chiseled out by the greatest sculptors could rival this sorceress' figure.

The individual masquerading as Sigi Reuven was in fact none other than Sigismund Dijkstra, the former head of Redanian intelligence and a man Geralt and I had had many dealings with in the past. He had fallen out of King Radovid's favor and nothing had been heard of him for many years. Now it seemed he had finally decided to emerge from the shadows, but instead of returning to high political wrangling he dove deep into the criminal underground - and quickly surfaced as one of its leading figures.

Few names in the Continent's history arouse as much terror and respect as that of Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd - the White Flame Dancing on the Graves of his Foes. Emperor of Nilfgaard, lord of Metinna, Ebbing and Gemmera, sovereign of Nazair and Vicovaro, he was ruler of half the civilized world and aspiring conqueror of the other half. He was a personage whose deeds and decisions shaped the fates of whole kingdoms and populations. What then could he possibly want of a simple witcher?

Geralt had been in situations where he could not prevent someone's death on more than one occasion. In fact, you might say he had grown accustomed to that particular form of agony. It is another thing altogether, however, to stand powerless and watch the unjust, cruel execution of an acquaintance for whom one has developed a fondness. Such was his lot as regards Felicia Cori, a young sorceress whom Geralt had met while chasing the kingslayer, Letho. Though Geralt had not gotten to know her deeply, he had nonetheless taken a liking to this former pupil of Philippa Eilhart, who had seemed to him a pleasant and enterprising young woman. Yet she was a wielder of magic and, as such, met her end on a pyre.

The Crones of Velen were not just old – they were literally ancient, having been around since the reign of the first human kings and possibly even since the coming of the elves. Of the three ghastly sisters, the Whispess was most ancient, or at least so claimed the swamp dwellers' whispered legends. Whispered, for if they spoke too loudly the Crone would hear it – for she demanded tribute in the form of human ears, which she hung from trees and through which, using primeval magic, she heard all that happened in the swamp.

Geralt and I both knew Síle de Tansarville, the Recluse of Kovir, the once proud member of the Lodge of Sorceresses who in her day plotted, persuaded and spellcast the world into a shape of her liking. Síle always claimed she acted only out of concern for the good of magic and mankind, yet the blood of a great many people stained her hands, including that of kings who stood in the way of her aims. She took part in countless conspiracies and herself devised many intrigues in which the witcher often figured as an unwitting accomplice, obstacle or incidental victim. Thus Geralt's prior meetings with the sorceress were stormy at best. On at least one occasion it could be said that Geralt saved Sile's life, but this did not mean he felt very warmly about her. Be that as it may, the sight of the tortured and maimed sorceress in King Radovid's dungeon made the witcher's cold heart swell with sorrow and sympathy.

King Bran, former King of the Skellige Isles, lived a long and storied life. When he finally felt decrepitude taking a hold of him, he went into the woods to hunt a bear armed with only a knife - and thus ended his reign. It was remembered as an honorable and respected one, though some complained he preferred raiding to confronting the Isles' long-term problems, and that he let his wife's tongue wag too freely. Some connected the two, claiming Bran sailed out to fight overseas battles to put off dealing with the ones awaiting him at home.

Geralt and I had known the doppler Dudu for years - from before the moment we had actually met him, in fact. You see, we first unwittingly talked to him when he was in Novigrad impersonating another friend of mine, a halfling merchant named Dainty Biberveldt. Dudu had assumed Dainty's form to use the merchant's network of contacts for some business endeavors of his own. Dainty was infuriated at first at his inability to locate the impostor who had inserted himself into his dealings, but when Dudu's investments began generating sizable returns, the halfling changed his tune. He took the doppler on as a partner, introducing him to everyone as his cousin, Dudu Biberveldt.

Vivienne de Tabris was Anna Henrietta’s lady-in-waiting. She was a tight-lipped, secretive, inaccessible person, but her beauty fascinated men. Geralt saw proof of this when he took a contract from Guillaume, who was in love with her and suspected she might be afflicted by a curse. In order to get an audience with her, Geralt had to take part in the knights’ tourney, where Vivienne was acting as the patroness.

It turned out not only Geralt was looking for Cirilla. Also on her trail – a mysterious elven mage. Like the witcher, he had gone to Keira Metz to inquire after Ciri's whereabouts. During this conversation he also revealed that he kept a hideout in the ruins near the village of Midcopse.

To this day, I do not know what caused Geralt to inquire after the contract posted by Olgierd von Everec. That famed witcher curiosity? An ominously light coin pouch? Or perhaps it was some other, more nefarious force… Whatever the impulse, Geralt decided to visit the locally-infamous nobleman and pursue the bounty on the sewer monster. From their very first encounter, Geralt knew Olgierd was a unique character. He led an informal band who worshipped the ground he walked on, though he clearly was of a different sort than they: educated, a lover of art and an adherent to a certain noble code. Yet Geralt also perceived something indefinable within the man, something years later he would call "a void crying out to be filled."

The baron’s daughter, Tamara, had disappeared with her mother some time before Geralt arrived at Crow's Perch. The baron described her as a charming young maid of nineteen summers and the apple of his eye. No wonder, then, that the lord of Crow's Perch was desperate to find her.

The Free City of Novigrad had known no king's rule for nearly two hundred years. Francis Bedlam surely had this fact in mind when he anointed himself the King of Beggars, a title that mocked the pomposity of crowned heads while simultaneously stealing a bit of said pomp for itself. Bedlam was a pragmatic man, a trait of great use in his profession, which involved managing a network of thieves, beggars, tramps and street urchins that trickled through every part of the city. His contacts provided him with the freshest gossip and tastiest morsels of information, and the cut he took of his "subjects'" earnings guaranteed a sizeable income for the maintenance of his "court" in the Putrid Grove.

Geralt entered the Oxenfurt sewers expecting to hunt down a hideous monster – so you can imagine his surprise when down one of those dank, slimy corridors he ran into Shani, an old and dear friend. Geralt and I had first met this extraordinary young woman years earlier, when she was just a coltish coed, but by this time she had grown into a dignified doctor and a fearless field medic for the Redanian Army. This latter role had led her, and a unit of soldier escorts, to descend into the sewers. Their goal was to gather a sample of the venom spewed by the monstrosity squatting there. Geralt, a gentleman through and through, agreed to help her in her task.

The Nilfgaardian Tavar Eggebracht came from a family with a long military tradition. His ancestors had proudly served under the Golden Sun banner during the conquests of Maecht, Geso and Metinna, fighting and dying for their emperor. That last fate was met by Tavar's cousin, Colonel Tibor Eggebracht, who fell in the Battle of Brenna during the previous Northern War. Despite this fact Tavar felt no hatred for Nordlings, considering his cousin's death a grievous yet inevitable consequence of war. He performed his duties as quartermaster diligently, with the good of his soldiers his top priority.

Imlerith - a general of the Wild Hunt and a frequent guest in Geralt's nightmares - had been chasing Ciri for quite some time, striving to deliver her to his ruler, Eredin. This powerful and brutal warrior had fought in the countless battles and campaigns for conquest waged by the Aen Elle in other worlds. He prized physical confrontation above all else, seeking out direct, bloody skirmishes where opponents pit their strength, agility and training against each other in a contest to the death.

Oneiromancy, the magic art of deciphering the past and the future as they appear in dreams, is difficult for even a highly trained sorceress to master. Those born with the talent, however, excel at it without any formal education. Such was the case of Corinne Tilly, whose fame as a dreamer, as such diviners are known, had spread far and wide.

Vesemir was the oldest living member of the Wolf School and most likely the oldest witcher of any school on the Continent. About as long in years as the ruins of Kaer Morhen themselves and though eternally complaining about his creaky bones, this master of the witcher trade gave no thought to a well-deserved retirement. Gray but still spry, he continued to ply the monster hunting trade into his golden years - effectively, too, as he'd seen more beasts than all his students put together. A harsh and demanding instructor in Geralt's youth, over the years he had become something of an adoptive father and mentor to the other witchers, always ready to help with sage advice and steady hands.

One of the people Geralt encountered at the Beauclair court was Captain Damien de la Tour, the captain of the Ducal Guard. He was absolutely and unconditionally (to say “unthinkingly” would be unfair, yet not entirely inaccurate) devoted to his position and worshipped the ground the duchess walked on. If you want my personal opinion, he was most definitely besotted with her. He came across as a typical soldier, i.e., a thickheaded lackey who, seeing Geralt, immediately decided he must prove who had the more massive unmentionables. Geralt treated this challenge with dispassionate superiority, yet accepted it nevertheless and in doing so earned himself another enemy.

Geralt erroneously interpreted one of my notes to mean that Elihal and I had been a couple. Alas, while anyone would be thrilled to count this outstanding elf, wonderful conversation partner and superb tailor among their conquests, in fact no more than friendship and fine wine had ever passed between us. Geralt found this out when he visited Elihal's tailor shop, where he also got a first-hand glimpse at the elf's unusual hobby - adopting the dress and mannerisms of those different from himself in race, sex and social status.

A joke circulates about the back alleys and seedy taverns of Novigrad. It claims the dwarf Carlo Varese, one of the four leading lights of the local criminal strata, was, in his own way, a fierce proponent of racial coexistence. He applied this principle in a somewhat selective fashion, however. Cleaver firmly felt that, as an assimilated dwarven resident of the city of Novigrad, he had every right to run his own business. Anyone who had a problem with the way he ran it or with the nature of his dealings - be they dwarf, human or halfling - revealed themselves a vile racist. And what was the only fitting thing to do with such scum? Why, feed them to a herd of ferociously hungry hogs – right after he sliced off their fingers with his namesake cleaver. Naturally, such tales could very well have been mere rumor and slander – but very few had the courage to test their veracity.

Though the youngest of the three Crones, the Weavess was not one jot less ugly or evil than her older sisters. It was she who wove their magic tapestries of human hair gathered as tribute from the young children of nearby villages during their "cutting" ceremonies. These tapestries were how the worshipers of the Ladies of the Wood made contact with and paid homage to their deities.

Many brave warriors answered Hjalmar's call to join him in reconquering Undvik from the Ice Giant. Among them - Folan, son of Ulf, Hjalmar's frequent comrade in battle and dear childhood friend. Folan, a member of Clan Tuirseach, was a fearless sailor and an unequaled archer, and so did not hesitate to join this dangerous expedition that stood to shower him in glory. It would have ended horribly for him, however, had the witcher not kept his wits about him and saved him from the clutches of hungry trolls by winning a riddle contest.

Young Hjalborn was the nephew of Holger Blackhand, the jarl of Faroe, and one of the claimants to Skellige's crown. Despite his young age he had already managed to achieve some renown, both during overseas raids and while fighting the monsters dwelling in the dangerous regions of the archipelago. His deeds had earned him enough fame, name-recognition and treasure that he stood a good chance of being elected king.

Ciri encountered plenty of liars, scoundrels and villains along her path - but luckily happened on some decent folk as well. Certainly worthy of being counted among the latter was Skjall, a young warrior from Lofoten. Initially, he and his family tended to Ciri's wounds, nursed her back to health, then he helped her flee the Wild Hunt. In doing so, he sacrificed the thing Skelligers hold dearest: his honor. Accused of cowardice, he was forced to perform a heroic deed to clear his name. Sadly, he failed. Mortally wounded by a beast in an abandoned garden, he suffered a slow, painful and lonely death.

A dwarf, a soldier of fortune, a veteran of the Battle of Brenna, an unassailable optimist, a committed altruist, a lover of rough drinks and rougher songs, a master gwent player and, above all, a dear and loyal friend to me and Geralt - ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present Zoltan Chivay. We first became fast friends years ago, when Geralt and I ran into Zoltan and the band he was leading at the time across war-stricken Riverdell. It proved our fate to cross paths many times after, and we eventually became inseparable companions, sticking together through good and ill. At our tale's beginning Zoltan and I had gone into business together running a Novigrad tavern called the Rosemary and Thyme.

Not all knights errant in Toussaint were embodiments of virtue, but if I had to choose one among them who did personify their chivalric creed, it would be Palmerin de Launfal. He is all the more admirable for the fact that, years ago, he was no stranger to the pleasures of eating, drinking and making merry in a variety of fashions. With time, however, he abandoned vice and drew closer to the knightly ideal. Geralt realized this when Palmerin came to him as an envoy from Anna Henrietta. The old-fashioned and somewhat naive knight immediately made a good impression on him, for while he did take formalities and courtesies a tad too seriously, he was anything but pompous or grandiose.

It did not take long for King Radovid of Redania to prove himself a hard and ruthless ruler, one fully deserving to be styled "the Stern." His father, King Vizimir, was murdered when Radovid was quite young, and his mother, Hedwig of Malleore, and a Regency Council ruled in his stead. Young Radovid soon seized power in his own right, however, and wrought vengeance on those who had treated him with disrespect. He took to forcing all his potential political opponents to swear allegiance – or face death. He waged war not only against Nilfgaard, but also against mages, whom he saw as the root of all evil. Radovid also made every effort to gain control over the Free City of Novigrad, whose fleet and treasury could tip the scales of the ongoing conflict in his favor.

Horst Borsodi, owner of the most famous auction house in all the North, was a snob and a buffoon. He looked down his nose at Geralt from the very moment they met, and when he heard what had brought the witcher to him, he had his men toss him out and beat him. To say their relationship got started off on the wrong foot would thus be putting it very lightly indeed...

Geralt first met Keira Metz when she literally dropped on top of him out of nowhere. During the infamous coup on Thanedd Island, Keira was defenestrated and nearly landed right on the witcher's head. The next time Geralt saw her, in the swamps of Velen, was shocking in a different way - the luxury-loving sorceress was the last person he expected to see in such a grim and barren place. Geralt later learned the reason for this, and Keira's fate gave him ample fodder for contemplating the cruel whimsies of the wheel of fortune. Once the esteemed advisor to the now late King Foltest, she had been chased out of Temeria when she lost that ruler's trust. Later she joined the Lodge of Sorceresses, which earned her the hatred of Redania's king and Nilfgaard's emperor alike. Because of this, she had gone deep undercover, posing as a cunning woman, a village witch of sorts, deep in the Velen boondocks. It was not at all difficult to tell that she despised every minute of this.

Reinald's story is one of tragedy. A young witcher who trained in the early years of the School of the Wolf, who explored the world with a curious mind and an eagerness to help others, and who ultimately accepted a contract he would not survive. Possessed by a red miasmal and locked away in the mines of Devil's Pit by the very priests of the Eternal Fire who had hired him, Reinald displayed tremendous strength in resisting the specter's will. He imprisoned himself and the miasmal in a salt cavern where he would remain as his life slowly slipped into darkness and sorrow. The plague spirit's presence kept the witcher's body in a state of undying, while Reinald held onto the sliver of hope that his dear friend would one day come to his rescue. But days turned to weeks, turned to years, turned to centuries...

If this world has ever known a ruler who enjoyed the absolute admiration of her subjects without the need for systematic repression or a particularly cruel hangman, it was, without a doubt, the sovereign of Toussaint, Duchess Anna Henrietta. Called Anarietta by those who knew her well, she was the widow of the late lamented Duke Raymund and one-time lover of a very famous and talented artist who would prefer to remain anonymous. A few years prior, when the witcher and a band of friends were visiting Toussaint, Anna Henrietta had had the pleasure of meeting Geralt of Rivia. When a mysterious Beast began attacking her courtiers, the duchess thus knew exactly whom to summon…

Cyprian Wiley the younger was one of Novigrad's most dangerous criminals. He had inherited his father's casinos, fighting ring and brothels – as well as the old man's sadistic tendencies, ruthlessness and lack of scruples. These traits had made the moniker "Whoreson" something of a family heirloom for his powerful criminal clan.

A hard life awaits the child who cannot escape his parents' shadow. Following the death of his father, the beloved King Bran, Svanrige became the formal ruler of Clan Tuirseach, which controlled vast territory on the isle of An Skellig. Yet this quiet and mild-mannered young man seemed firmly tied to the apron strings of his mother, Birna, who sought to control his every waking deed. With such an overbearing caretaker it was hard to imagine how Svanrige could ever grow into a man able to rule a mighty Skellige clan in his own right.

Geralt's auction-going experience ended in catastrophe. Not only was he summarily tossed out on his venerable witcher rear end, he also failed to learn anything about Maximilian's House. Then, while pondering his next step, he was approached by a mysterious stranger. This man did not say who he was, where he was from, how he knew of the witcher or how he had found him. All he would reveal was that he could help Geralt gain access to the auction house vault – without asking the owner's permission. The stranger proposed they meet somewhere more secluded so he might explain his plan in greater detail.

Morvran Voorhis - commander of the Alba Division, an officer of the highest rank and a pure-blooded aristocrat, one who with pride could call himself a Nilfgaardian, a designation reserved only for native-born inhabitants of the empire's capital and its immediate surroundings. At the time of their first meeting Geralt had no idea what an important person had been assigned the task of "asking him a few routine questions." Knowing the witcher, however, knowledge of Morvran's rank and status would not have made much of a difference.

Graden was one of the witch hunters in King Radovid's service. Unlike a great many of his comrades, he came across as a level-headed fellow, one free of prejudice, at least in his dealings with witchers.

In those days rampant persecution and the smoke of a hundred pyres choked Novigrad's air. This grim climate provided cover in which a great many bloody butchers built comfortable nests for themselves. Drummed-up conspiracies, mass arrests and show trials resulting in group executions were the favorite building blocks. Caleb Menge, the fanatically ambitious commander of the Church of the Eternal Fire's Temple Guard, was one such opportunist, his moment of triumph coming when he unmasked his superior, the former Temple Guard commander Chappelle, as a doppler in disguise. Geralt first saw Menge lighting Chappelle's pyre in Novigrad's main square and had no doubt that, for this man, the appellation "fanatical whoreson" was too mild by far.

After Guthlaf, trusted seneschal to the an Craite jarls, passed away a portion of his duties were taken over by the jarl's cupbearer, Arnvald. This elderly Skelliger did not possess the far-reaching authority of his predecessor, but still had managed to make himself irreplaceable in his few years in the position. His purview included not only stocking the larders and cellars of Kaer Trolde but also seeing to the needs of the keep's inhabitants, as well as the guests that visited it during feasts and other important ceremonies.

Madman Lugos' sole child and heir was a dour, strapping lad who was nothing like his father. His nickname dated from his childhood, when bruises often covered his body, supposedly from the rough and rowdy play Skellige boys engage in. Yet others suspected they came from his father's belt, rod or fists, for rumor had it Lugos Senior did not wish to spoil his only child and thus punished him harshly for any minor cockup or grander failure.

Though Madman Lugos, jarl of Clan Drummond, was nothing special in terms of size or strength, most men in the isles still stepped aside when they saw him coming. Eternally feuding with his neighbors, Lugos had a reputation for a furious and violent temper and managed to get into shouting matches with even the usually-placid Donar an Hindar. Yet Lugos' biggest rival was Crach an Craite, whom he accused of stealing part of his domain (which in his reckoning encompassed all of Ard Skellig). The clans' quarrel went back hundreds of years and there was nothing to indicate it would end while these two fierce enemies lived. Lugos hated Crach with a passion dampened only by the laws of Skellige and the disproportionate balance of power between the two clans.

I always considered it a point of particular pride to count Triss Merigold of Maribor among my closest and dearest friends. This exceptionally talented sorceress was a shining star of her profession, the former mage advisor to King Foltest, and a famous hero of the Battle of Sodden, known as the Fourteenth of the Hill. Yet in no way did she resemble her often unbearably haughty sisters in magic. Her deft mind, warm smile and considerable personal charm had always won over even the hardest of hearts. Though my personal relations with Triss never ventured beyond the fraternal, Geralt of Rivia at one point found her allure irresistible. From then on the two shared feelings that ran far deeper than a superficial and fleeting fancy.

Geralt did not meet Anna Strenger, the Bloody Baron's wife, when he visited Crow's Perch. Some time before his arrival this woman had disappeared in unexplained circumstances along with her daughter, Tamara. Geralt did, however, receive a detailed description of the missing woman. Anna was a comely forty-something woman with green eyes and hair dark as raven wings which she kept tied in a tight bun behind her head.

Emperor Emhyr had once presented the mages of Nilfgaard with a simple choice: either serve their country unquestioningly or die in prison. Fringilla Vigo, a mistress of magic holding office in the vassal duchy of Toussaint, refused both options and instead joined the infamous Lodge of Sorceresses, whose aim was to stand up to the dictates of kings and emperors. These bold ambitions were never fulfilled, however, and Fringilla Vigo lived in fear that her ties to this subversive organization would be discovered and she would meet a quick end at the hands of the emperor's executioners. One must mention here that Geralt first met Fringilla at the ducal palace in Beauclair many years ago, when we were there enjoying the hospitality of my one-time love, Duchess Anna Henrietta. The witcher, always a sucker for sorceresses, conjoined with Madame Vigo during this time in a quite lively relationship that surely was no cause of joy for Triss or Yennefer.

The Whispering Hillock - if the world were not as it is but as it should be, this name would denote a place of hidden nooks and lovers sharing heartfelt lies in hushed voices. Instead, it stood for danger and terror, for a place where wild animals, driven by some mysterious power, had killed many an inhabitant of Downwarren. Geralt agreed to investigate the problem, and soon discovered the animals were controlled by a spirit entrapped in a tree growing atop the hill. The spirit spoke to him in a woman's voice, and claimed to have once been a druidess who had kept watch over the Velen grove until the Crones murdered her and imprisoned her ghost in the tree. The forces of nature she had once served now protected her from the fiendish sisters' further designs. The unfortunate locals had died as collateral damage, for, the spirit attested, nature's wrath is unrestrainable and distinguishes not between unwary innocents and unwelcome ill-wishers. The spirit begged Geralt to lift her curse and free her from her torment. In exchange, she promised to rescue the orphans from the swamp clearing, who would otherwise face a cruel death at the hands of the Crones.

As commander of Temerian Special Forces - an elite squadron known also as the "Blue Stripes" - Vernon Roche had been one of King Foltest's most trusted subordinates. Time and time again Roche had proved himself loyal, effective and a thorough professional. Few could match his skill at subduing revolts, fighting off Nilfgaardians or snuffing out bands of Scoia'tael. At the start of our story, however, he had lost his king, his men and his homeland, and so had resorted to waging a guerilla war against the overwhelming occupying forces.

Geralt needed someone who could scale the glass-smooth wall of the tower abutting the Borsodis' Auction House. One of the few capable of this was Hugo Hoff, alias "Beef Patty" – a halfling with countless break-ins and robberies under his belt. Geralt was told to look for him in Oxenfurt, whose seedy taverns served as watering grounds for students and criminals alike.

Guillaume de Launfal was the very model of a knight errant – the placard boy for Toussaint, if you will. When Geralt first met the young man, he was valiantly tilting at a windmill… which, to be fair, turned out to be hiding a ferocious giant.