Shadows Over Vergendorf

Prologue:

For a Fistful of Diamonds

Midday, Midwinter, The Merchants Counting House Inn, The City of Lan Exeter, The Winter Capital of the Northern Kingdom of Kovir

"The infamous White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia. It is indeed an honour to meet you at long last. I trust my message reached you without too much trouble. But of course it must have or you wouldn't be here. I believe introductions are in order. To my right is the right honourable merchant and gemstone dealer Eric Beaufontaine, to my left is the honourable Baron of the Town of Vergendorf Gustav Kalavnikov, the two gentlemen behind me are Septimus Steinburg the honourable mayor of Vergendorf, and Philius Gasparov the honourable knight and captain of the Vergendorf militia. I am the honourable Lord Bartholomew Goldberg, Chief Councilman of Vergendorf and advisor to the Baron. This charming young lady at my side is the honourable sorceress Persephone Kandrell. She is the only reason we were able to make the journey through the fog, although she could not lift it entirely.

As you can imagine, it is in the direst of circumstances that we find ourselves in the position where we are forced to make a hundred mile journey from the north in the middle of winter to consult with a renowned Witcher. You may think that we are perhaps overstating the importance of this meeting. But you will see once we make our case that your services are in desperate demand, perhaps more so now than anything you have ever encountered before.

I will start by saying that our small city of some mere twenty five thousand souls has become a breeding ground for the most villainous scoundrels ever to walk the north. It is a hive of mystery and deceit, of intrigue and murder. The whole city seems to have been driven mad with bloodlust. Neighbour turns against neighbour, family turn against their own kin. The prison is bursting at the seams with every kind of criminal scum imaginable. But we know these people, Vergendorf used to be a very welcoming and friendly city, the last stop in this part of the north before one reaches the Dragon Mountains.

Witchcraft is rampant. Indeed the very skies themselves have turned black. We haven't seen the sun in weeks. A thick black unnatural fog surrounds the town and the countryside, almost nothing comes and nothing goes. Anyone that has left the city since the fog appeared hasn't returned. We were fortunate that Miss Kandrell settled in the city, otherwise we too would have been trapped there. But as you can imagine, once our business is concluded here we must return with haste while we still have a town. What say you Master Witcher, can you help us in our hour of need."

Geralt sat back in his chair, studying the small crowd who had gathered around him. He took a long gulp of warm frothy ale and placed the tankard down on the table. He looked over the group, his eyes going from one to the other as he scrutinized them. The merchant was an old man of considerable girth, probably balding under his fancy wide brimmed peacock feathered hat. Like the others his clothes were designed to impress and screamed of opulence. Geralt wondered how many families could be fed with the price of the entourage's clothes alone. The merchant seemed nervous, as though he was about to part with something against his will. Geralt could only guess at the man's part in this little scheme. Geralt gestured towards an empty chair while looking the merchant in the eyes. The man took out a lace handkerchief and wiped his sweaty brow, seemingly nervous to have caught the Witcher's attention. He gladly took the chair at the end of the table and slumped down relieved to have taken his considerable weight off his legs. He continued to sweat profusely as the others each occupied an empty seat.

Next he studied the Baron, though just briefly. The man was fiftyish with a wicked set of claw marks down his left cheek. Three four inch long gashes that looked as though they must have reached the bone underneath. The Baron seemed to notice the Witcher staring at him and suddenly grew quite anxious, his hand going up to the scars and tracing them with his fingertips along their full length. The Baron wore no hat, preferring to show his full head of thick grey hair off in what can only be described as a basin cut. Geralt imagined the man sitting while a nervous barber stuck a pot over his head and trimmed around it. A faint wicked smile grew on the Witcher's face. The Baron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, obviously a man used to being in control and not being studied by the hired help. The Baron gestured to one of the serving maids and ordered two bottles of the finest wine in the house, along with six glasses and a tankard of ale for Geralt. Geralt nodded his approval and thanks. The serving maid poured the wine for the waiting companions who eagerly took sips from their glasses.

The Mayor of Vergendorf was a stick thin pencil of a man, standing almost six and half feet tall. He must have been seventy at least. The few remaining tufts of wispy grey hair were combed across his bald head. His clothes were all velvet and lace. Obviously he had spared no expense to appear like something out of a stage play. He had a habit of rubbing his finger against the side of his nose whenever anybody spoke to him.

The knight stood out among the men present as the only one visibly wearing a sword on his belt and adorned in black leather armour from head to toe. He was a man in his mid forties. A confident and Geralt judged arrogant man who was probably quick to point out his finer qualities to anyone who would listen. He wore his hair short, shaved to within a knife's edge of his scalp.

The Lord was a jovial kind of fellow, slightly overweight and struggling to fit into his tight travelling attire. He was probably the youngest of the men. Geralt estimated early thirties. He had a habit of smiling at everything anyone said to him.

The sorceress was typical of her kind. She looked to be in her mid twenties, but looks were deceiving and Geralt could only take a wild guess at her true age. She was undoubtedly attractive, with straight blonde hair down to below her waist. Her riding outfit fitted her perfectly. Geralt followed the contours of body up to her breasts and suddenly realized she was watching him in return. She simply raised an eyebrow and gave him a venomous look.

"Gentleman and my lady, it is my guess that you have a rogue sorcerer on the loose. A powerful one to be sure. Depending upon the terms you offer I may accompany you back to your city, should we be able to agree upon a satisfactory contract."

The Merchant cleared his throat, coughing and spluttering as he did so. "You may not be aware of the fact that Vergendorf sits on top of one of the most productive gold and gemstone mines in the Dragon Mountains. With each day that passes, myself and my business partners are loosing tens of thousands of orens because the miners insist the mines are haunted and filled with beasts. And they simply refuse to work until the matter is resolved. We are desperate Master Witcher. The mines are the lifeblood of the city, without them running at maximum capacity, we face a harsh winter. People will go hungry. Desperation will set in and lead to even more trouble. To get our mines working again and to rid us of this accursed dark sorcery we are prepared to offer you a very high fee."

The Merchant reached into an inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a small bag. He untied the bag and turned it upside down. Geralt smiled as twenty gemstones fell on the table in front of him.

"Each stone has been expertly cut by myself and will fetch at least a thousand Orens to the right buyer. We propose to pay you five stones now if you agree to travel back with us. And a further fifteen stones once we arrive in Vergendorf. That's at least twenty thousand Orens before you even lift a finger to help us. Upon successful completion of the given task, which is the removal of all harmful sorcery from the City of Vergendorf and the surrounding countryside. You will be presented with a case of two hundred and fifty diamonds like the ones before you. That's a total of two hundred and fifty thousand Orens. This is undoubtedly the largest sum you are ever likely to be offered for your services. Are we in agreement Master Witcher, will you help us take back our city from this sorcerous blight."

"How could I possibly refuse such a generous offer? But I would ask that you provide a further five thousand Orens, coins not diamonds, for expenses."

"That's it, an extra five thousand Orens, you don't wish to haggle like you Witcher's are so famous for?"

"I believe for once, the haggling won't be necessary."

"Then we have a deal, Geralt. Five Thousand Orens now along with five diamonds. Fifteen more diamonds once we arrive in the city. And your payment in full once the contract is satisfactorily completed. Then our business is concluded, Master Witcher." The Merchant said as he counted out a bag of five thousand Orens and took five of the diamonds from the table, placing them in another small bag. The rest of the diamonds he placed in the original bag and tucked in into the deep pockets of his coat. He handed the large bag of Orens and the small bag of diamonds to Geralt, who smiled wickedly in return.

"Now if you don't mind, Geralt we are all famished from our long journey. Can I interest you in a full meal washed down with the finest wine." The merchant questioned, seemingly eager to get started on a mammoth size meal.

"If we are leaving in the morning I should prepare. I've got provisions to buy and specialist equipment that I will need. I also have other business to take care of while we are in Lan Exeter. I will find you later, if you haven't retired for the night. Good day to you, Gentlemen, my lady."

Within seconds Geralt was stood outside in the falling snow. He buttoned his thick bearskin hooded travelling cloak and pulled the hood over his head. He checked his twin blades on his back to ensure he could draw them easily. He checked the four daggers at his waist, two silver and two steal. He looked down at the ground, already the snow was almost level with his knee high travelling boots.

Geralt set off up the narrow street, three and four storey buildings all around him. The traffic on the street was exceptionally light. Here and there children played in the snow. Several times he was blasted with snow balls as the giggling children ran off shouting. Luckily most of the stores he intended to visit were open for business. His first stop was the stables where he checked on his horse and pack mule. Ebony and Ivory lived up to their names. The Stallion Ebony was jet black with no other colouring. Ivory was plain white with black socks and a black snout. He missed Roach, but the two horses had grown on him over time and he had come to welcome their company on the long roads while travelling. He haggled with the stable keeper for a good twenty minutes and finally reached a price on some new saddles, new saddle blankets and feed for the horses during the journey north. His next stop was the general goods store, a particularly well stocked travellers shop. He bought a one man tent and several thick blankets, a backpack and general goods such as a shovel for the snow, pots and pans for cooking and all manner of other items he wondered if he would ever use but seemed like a good idea to have them to hand. After a fairly brutal round of bartering they settled the bill at just over five hundred Orens.

Next stop was the Apothecary. He stocked up on all manner of ingredients for his much needed potions. The final bill was over three thousand Orens. He carried the four sackfulls of ingredients out of the store, pleased with his purchase. He'd stocked up on potions before travelling north so already had a very good selection but it couldn't hurt to be prepared to make more if necessary. Afterall there was no way of knowing how long he would be gone for. He dropped off everything he had bought at his room at the inn and then continued walking around the city in the ever increasing snow drifts.

His next stop was at the Express Courier Service, he wrote out a long message for Vesemir explaining the situation and asking for any possible help Vesemir and the other Witchers could offer for an equal share of the final payment. He just somehow knew it would be necessary. This wasn't going to be easy or quick and would require the best help he could find. He paid the courier master an extra two hundred Orens and urged him to get the message delivered to Kaer Morhen as soon as possible.

By the time he had finished at the couriers he had a little over a thousand Orens left from the expenses that the Merchant had given him. Next was the tailors, where he bought several sets of clothes, nothing fancy but practical, like travelling gear.

Next he visited the bank where he deposited to his safe deposit box, the five diamonds the Merchant had given him, three emeralds, six rubies and twelve small sapphires that he had been carrying since his last job. He also took out a bag of three thousand five hundred Orens and deposited that as well. By the time he was finished he had roughly two thousand Orens left in total. It was enough to stock up on travelling rations for several weeks and pay what he owed for rent and lodging at the inn. If he needed money once he arrived in Vergendorf, he could cash in the fifteen diamonds he was yet to be paid.

He returned to his room at the inn. He took out two large carrying cases and opened them on the bed. Inside were fifty small potion vials in each case. He counted through them noting which vials where in need of replenishing. When he was satisfied with the result of his counting he made a mental note of which he needed, he could do that later before they left. It would be something to occupy his mind. He could only imagine the dangers that lay in wait for him once he reached Vergendorf. But he had prepared as much as he could. Now it was a matter of waiting until they left. He was eager to be on his way. Too much time to think only complicated matters. He set to work preparing those potions he needed. Several hours later he had finished and was ready for something to eat and a warm ale to wash it down with.

The rest of the day went without incident. Geralt retired early to bed and slept well until dawn.