The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt Remastered · Northern Wind · Inventory

Produces ×1 · Formula for crafting a bomb that explodes on impact.

Ingredients ×1 · Formula for crafting a bomb that explodes on impact.

Effective against · How doth the little wild boar Improve his shining tusks, And rut them ‘gainst the forest floor, And on the trees’ rough husks! How cheerfully he seems to grin How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little lasses in, With gently smiling jaws! Louis of Charolle, mathematician, author and poet These woodland beasts are as “wild” – untamed, nasty and aggressive – as their name indicates. To this day, many peasants in outlying Kaedweni villages believe wild boars persist on a diet of young maids, though in truth they most often slate their hunger with roots and acorns. Do not think this vegetarian diet makes them harmless, however. In fact, these animals’ stout build and sharp teeth render them veritable fur-covered combat machines. Mother Nature has additionally equipped them with dual pairs of tusks - upper "pipes" and lower "sabres" - and this weaponry's sum effect is to make the beasts the terrors of the woods, a threat to all who venture or dwell there, human, humanoid and otherwise. Boars also have hard, club-like snouts, which some peasants call their “whistles,” though no boar has ever been heard to make such a noise. Instead, they emit a characteristic grunt, which sounds to some like the snoring of an extremely overweight man. Another peasant belief claims boars have extremely prickly natures, and, if offended, will vent their anger by knocking down fences and gobbling up potatoes. Though they sometimes live alone, boars usually appear in small groups of 3 to 5 specimens.

Effective against · How doth the little wild boar Improve his shining tusks, And rut them ‘gainst the forest floor, And on the trees’ rough husks! How cheerfully he seems to grin How neatly spreads his claws, And welcomes little lasses in, With gently smiling jaws! Louis of Charolle, mathematician, author and poet These woodland beasts are as “wild” – untamed, nasty and aggressive – as their name indicates. To this day, many peasants in outlying Kaedweni villages believe wild boars persist on a diet of young maids, though in truth they most often slate their hunger with roots and acorns. Do not think this vegetarian diet makes them harmless, however. In fact, these animals’ stout build and sharp teeth render them veritable fur-covered combat machines. Mother Nature has additionally equipped them with dual pairs of tusks - upper "pipes" and lower "sabres" - and this weaponry's sum effect is to make the beasts the terrors of the woods, a threat to all who venture or dwell there, human, humanoid and otherwise. Boars also have hard, club-like snouts, which some peasants call their “whistles,” though no boar has ever been heard to make such a noise. Instead, they emit a characteristic grunt, which sounds to some like the snoring of an extremely overweight man. Another peasant belief claims boars have extremely prickly natures, and, if offended, will vent their anger by knocking down fences and gobbling up potatoes. Though they sometimes live alone, boars usually appear in small groups of 3 to 5 specimens.

Effective against · The girl walked up to the edge of the pond. There, squatting amidst the fragrant lilies and broad lily-pads, she saw a most unusual sight: a small green frog with a golden crown perched on its warty head. Charmed by this curious little creature, the girl picked it up and gave it a kiss. Immediately the little frog transformed into a handsome prince. Overcome with gratitude, he asked the girl to be his wife. – folk tale, author unknown Timeless tales always carry within them a grain of truth. The legend of the frog prince is no exception, or at least that’s what the folk of Oxenfurt wished to believe when they found out a monstrous toad lurked in their city sewers. The women who hunted it in search of romance and a better life, however, found their tales had a most unhappy ending. The creature they encountered was no small, sweet frog but a bloodthirsty beast, who not only did not let them in for a kiss, but instead greedily devoured them and anything else that strayed into its slime-covered lair.

Effective against · Ye or anyone ever heard of a beast settin' a wagon in the road, then waitin' in ambush? They're too ploughin' dumb for that, dammit! – Egil, warrior from Hindarsfjall

Effective against · Seen a lot o' ugly critters in me life - morays, lampreys, blobfish... But never nothin' like this! – Bjorg, Kaer Trolde shipbuilder

Effective against · The first fire elemental was created by Ransant Alvaro. Sadly, flames engulfed his entire laboratory, burning it - along with every other building on his block - to ash. – Tarvix Sandoval, "Origins of Magic Arcana" Fire is the most destructive of the elements, thus the aggressive lethality of the creature that embodies its essence should come as no surprise. Fire elementals are forged in complicated magic rituals for one purpose: destruction. And they pursue this with murderous determination.

Effective against · Take heed, gents, there's nekkers under this here bridge. If you all cross at once, without slowing or stopping, there's nothing to fear. But if your cart throws an axle and you get stuck out there... Well, close your eyes and pray to Melitele. – Kurt Hammerbach, city guardsman in Vengerberg A lone nekker is harmless. Five are dangerous. Ten can kill even a veteran monster slayer. Particularly troublesome are the larger, stronger individuals known as warriors, as well as the rare breed of nekkers known as phoocas.

Effective against · Folk say water hags are drowners' wives. If that be true, 'tain't no wonder why they're such ornery bitches. – Shemhel of Dregsdon Some tales mention water hags and swamp bints masquerading as lost old women to lure travelers back to the rickety shacks they build in the wetlands. In truth, only a blind man, or a sighted man blinded with drink, could mistake the rank sludge and rotting carrion of a water hag's den for a cozy cottage, and the hideous hag herself for an innocent grandmother. Their wrinkled, wart-covered bodies stand nearly two yards tall, with skin the color of a long-dead cadaver and stinking of muck and fish. Bony growths two spans long stick out from their backs, with hair like a tangle of seaweed and claws that would make a werewolf proud completing the picture.