The Witcher

Today isn't your day, is it?

What will it be?

Point me to the alderman's house.

- It's down the alley to the left... - Isadora.

We don't want your kind here, Witcher.

The alderman,

tell me where he is and I'll be on my way.

You don't give the orders around here...

you mutant son of a bitch.

Hear that?

Go.

On your own or at the end of a rope, your choice.

Not a hard choice.

Yeah, fuck that. Kill him with your bare hands if you have to.

C'mon, Witcher. You're not scared of us, are ya?

- Show us what you've got. - Can you not leave it alone for a moment?

- Witchers can't be trusted. - I'm not speaking to you.

I apologize for my man's interference in your day.

Hopefully he can improve his behavior by tomorrow's market.

Sorry, Renfri.

Come on, lads.

Beer for my friend here and one for me.

I am speaking to you now, good sir.

Want some breakfast?

I'm full.

Venison.

My mother, God rest her, would be mortified.

Our secret, then.

So, what brings you to Blaviken, White Hair?

You came for a monster?

I was traveling by the swamp.

That would be your mistake, then. Why wouldn't you travel by main roads?

It's hard to make a living on main roads.

And you desperately need money for new clothes.

Two more beers.

More and more, I find monsters wherever I go.

How much coin for your kikimora, then?

I killed a rat this morning with my breakfast fork.

Stabbed it in its fat little gut.

My mother nearly fainted, but what was I supposed to do?

It had been shitting in our pantry for days.

- You mentioned coin. - Yes.

Isadora said you were looking for my father.

She's a gossip, you see.

Probably went two steps into the Lord's Inn

before she was running off telling everyone an evil witcher had arrived.

You don't scare me.

That's too bad.

And I can also tell you

that my father will have no use for this beast.

Your father,

the alderman?

He posted a flyer.

For a graveir.

kikimoras are useful.

Population control.

Hm.

You should speak to Master Irion, our wizard.

He's willing to pay for odds and ends he needs for elixirs.

I sold him our dog when it died.

Mysteriously.

Fine.

Take me to him.

I got 15 crowns for the yappy mutt.

That's enough to buy some new clothes. Just saying.

Hm.

Come on, Roach.

Have you ever killed a succubus?

A striga?

Werewolf?

She-wolf?

That's not a thing.

So you've killed the rest?

I think that makes you a hero.

My mother says you're the offspring of foul sorcery,

a diabolic creation, a filthy degenerate born of Hell.

Have you ever been to Hell?

I've never even left Blaviken.

Because my mother's never left Blaviken,

and if it's good enough for Libushe, then it's good enough for Marilka.

That's my name.

Marilka.

Like milk.

What's your name?

Geralt.

Like garroter?

Nice.

Where are you from, Geralt?

Rivia.

I don't know where that is, but I could learn, if you'd let me.

No.

Because I'm a girl and girls can't be witchers.

Which I think is probably the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

Hm.

I want more.

I have to be more,

because I don't know what to do in Blaviken for the rest of my life,

except go to the boring old market.

And kill rats.

And dogs.

Here we are.

Hold Roach.

Be nice.

Hey, Roach.

Greetings.

I am Stregobor.

Master Stregobor.

Sorcerer.

I have a kikimora for Master Irion.

Yes, well, forgive the confusion.

Irion created this tower, but he's been dead 200 years.

So, in order to honor him, I've taken his name as my...

personal sobriquet.

Hm.

He create this illusion, too?

No, this is, uh... this is...

my own creation.

Helps pass time more delightfully.

Because you're in hiding, Stregobor.

How very clever of you...

Witcher.

Not often do we see your likeness here in Blaviken.

Not many of my likeness left.

Hm.

I'd offer you my condolences, but...

I seem to remember that witchers don't feel...

anything.

I'm grateful destiny brought you to me.

Marilka brought me to you.

Oh, Marilka. Marilka works for me.

Now and then.

On matters of great import.

A reclusive sorcerer who uses an alias

and hires a young girl to procure him a witcher.

You don't want my monster.

You want me to kill yours.

Very clever.

Indeed.

- What kind? - The worst kind.

The human kind.

Its name is Renfri.

Hm.

Damn it.

Go on, Martin.

- Ah! Five. - Yeah!

- Not yet. - There's no way you can get five.

You're not taking a bite of that bread before I try.

- Better throw those knuckles. - Go on, then.

Told ya.

I didn't steal the bread. Korin did!

- Quick! Quick! - Hey, shut up, you twat!

You need to come with us.

As your Queen, I grant you this commendation,

which will symbolize your duty and bond as liegemen

in fealty to the crown of Cintra.

Could use with a bit of feel-ty myself right now.

Gross.

Do you promise to defend to your utmost the weak, the orphaned...

- Late wee pups don't get to bark. - I was playing in the square.

...speak only the truth...

- Knucklebones? - ...loyal and brave...

Did you win this time? Like I showed you.

- ...at any cost... - I would have,

if the horsemen of doom hadn't ridden up like that.

- I grant you this... - If you can't win a game of knucklebones

- for fear of a few horses... - ...duty and bond...

...what'll you do when you go into battle?

...in fealty to the crown of Cintra.

At least you didn't shit your kecks.

As members of the Royal Family,

is it too much to ask that you exercise a modicum of respect?

Especially you.

This is your duty as king and grandfather.

Grant me leave, my Queen. I am worn from my trip to the Isles.

And my bedchamber duties before that.

Gross.

As your Queen,

I grant you this commendation,

which will symbolize your duty and bond...

Destiny has many faces, Witcher.

Mine, for example, is beautiful on the outside, but...

hideous on the inside.

She has stretched her bloody talons towards me.

Wizards are all the same.

You talk nonsense while making wise and meaningful faces.

Speak normally.

Have you ever heard of the...

Curse of the Black Sun?

First full eclipse in 1,200 years.

It marked the imminent return of Lilit,

demon goddess of the night sent to exterminate the human race.

According to the wise mage Eltibald,

Lilit's path was to be prepared by 60 women wearing gold crowns

who'd fill the river valleys with blood.

Hm.

Doesn't rhyme.

All good predictions rhyme.

I studied the girls born around the Black Sun,

and I found horrendous internal mutations among them.

I tried to cure them,