The Witcher: Vitiated Spirits
The fragrance of flowers spreads only in the direction of the wind. But the goodness of a person spreads in all directions.
- Chanakya
CHAPTER ONE
Nothing tastes so sweet, like wine grown from fresh grapes, bathed in the purest of sunlight, and handled with the utmost care. Corr touched the rim of an ornate crystal wineglass to his lips. A lush tart scent rose up into his nostrils, filling his body with serenity. Though not his first visit to the refurbished Corvo Bianco, today held special news, and thus, called for special wine. The first to taste the Finis Amarum or, Bitter End, what an honor indeed.
"Kind sir, Master Geralt of Rivia is here," came a soft female voice. Corr took a large sip and turned around to greet the voice with a smile. Their eyes met for just a short moment, but that was all it took for her cheeks to glow a rosy-red. Her smile grew wider, eyes enjoying the view, and turned to walk toward the landlords house. Corr followed behind from a distance, wine glass steady in hand.
The path from entrance to main house, is truly a treat to any visitor. To the left, gorgeous conservative buildings where the employees of Corvo Bianco live. And to the right, a garden dense and colorful. Multiple species of flowers and herbs which light up with glory under the midday sun. The trail leads to a well where beyond lies the store-house and aging facility for the wine. 'I must insist on a tour someday,' Corr muttered under his breath. His pace slowed. For a Witcher, his ability to multi-task while ideas in his brain stirred, could become rather lackluster at times.
The farm-hand turned her head just in time to notice Corr no longer following behind. A gentle chuckle escaped her lips. "Sir Corr, shall we continue?" His eyes blinked twice before reality crashed upon him. His head shook violently, his eyes darted back to the lady, an embarrassed grin formed on his lips. "My apologies. May I inquire if I might be able to get a tour of the cellar area?"
"I shall ask Master Geralt, but at this moment he requires you posthaste." Her grin grew a bit longer, as if enjoying having the upper hand on a such a tall muscular man. While she knows love with a Witcher is near forbidden and a far-fetched reality, she couldn't pass on the opportunity to flirt. "Right away ma'am," Corr replied, picking up his pace matching hers for the first time today.
"Welcome to Corvo Bianco, and the order of Witcher, young Corr." Gazing down from the entrance of the main-house, stood the familiar silver-haired Witcher, Geralt. Both Corr and the farm-hand smiled at his greeting. "Thank you Master Geralt for the invitation," Corr spoke confidently as he simultaneously bowed. His gesture was met in kind.
"Now young Corr, please come in," Geralt said, his tone calm and quiet. Corr gave the farm-hand a teasing kiss on the cheek and followed Geralt inside. She blushed deeply, watching his body climb the hill before disappearing into the dark building. Moments passed before she realized he was gone, her mind ablaze with daydreams and fantasies.
"Now then Corr, to business. Have a seat." Corr sat down as instructed. While never having met Geralt before, the tales of his adventures and his misadventures had taught him not to oppose or misbehave. Geralt continued on, assuming his guest is paying attention.
"My presence had been requested in a few towns surrounding these parts. I completed cursory introductions and accepted all requests for aid. At first I thought these all to be isolated incidents and therefore took no deep concern in their immediate completion. However recent investigations at two other wineries in the area have shown common denominators."
"Pardon the interruption Master Geralt," Corr spoke rather loudly. He sat the now empty crystal glass down on the table and leaned forward. "This all still seems like something you can handle yourself. Not that I am uninterested in being here, I just felt this request held more urgency."
"Aye on the surface everything seems textbook. However there are a couple needs that I cannot meet myself."
Geralt turned away from the solid-oak dining room table to a small side table. Crystal glasses and an ornate gold decanter stood proudly atop. Without question, he poured two glasses full of whiskey and sat them down on the table, taking a seat himself. Corr hesitantly stared at the glass before him. "Go on, you only had one glass of wine," Geralt spoke softly almost as if to antagonize his guest. "Yes sir," Corr replied instantly. He picked up the glass and took the tiniest, most cautious of sips. The alcohol met his lips and tongue, sending a numbing burning sensation to fill his mouth, seizing his throat. He coughed loudly for a full minute, before normality returned. Geralt sat across from him drinking the liquid with ease and with a large grin on his face.
"Back to business," Geralt continued on, a sense of urgency in his voice.
"The first thing I need is an unknown party. Someone without the notoriety that I have, someone who hasn't aligned with good or evil. The second thing, is an, intimate diversion." Corr looked up and locked eyes intently.
"Excuse me?" Corr's voice now curious but timid.
"There is a vineyard owner not far from here that has been making assassination contracts and hiring thieves to ensure their continued success. I have reason to believe that the motivations now exceed just selfish desires, and perhaps involves subtle coercion."
"Alright. Am I correct in assuming you want me to seduce him in pursuit of answers?"
"Your senses are well-tuned for your age. You are correct. Your moral compass is unknown to anybody in the region. That should allow you easy access into Al Bano Ditka's society. From there, it goes without saying that you should be able to pump him for information." Corr's cheeks lit up. While a man of justice, it was no secret that him and Geralt shared an admiration and appreciation for pleasure in its' many forms.
"Anything else I should know before signing up?," Corr muttered with hesitation.
"Just that I expect full cooperation. Despite what I have explained, the situation has many opportunities to evolve and worsen. This must be dealt with before it affects the members of royalty or takes many more innocent lives."
"Understood. So what is the general conflict? Set the scene for me."
"Aye. About three months ago I was notified by the owner of Castel Ravello Vineyards that the river water flowing through Fox Hollow had become toxic. This river generally affects none other, however flows from many places prior. How it developed toxicity just in time to reach a village that relies on it as a resource, was curious. Investigations bore little fruit until a few weeks ago. In a matter of days four civilians instantly died after consuming the water from the river. At the same time the herbalist in Castel Ravello fell mortally ill after preparing and consuming a simple potion. It was later discovered he had purchased pots filled with that rivers' water for a large production of healing tinctures. The castle has been placed on high alert and surrounding vineyards have halted production in fear that this mysterious toxin would find its' way into the wine. That is where my investigation turned priority."
"Has that fear become reality yet, and have you followed the river to its' source?"
"Yes to both, unfortunately the latter question held no result. My best guess is that the toxin is manually or magically added to the river at specific times and places, meaning the water is not always dangerous. However, there was enough time that it went unnoticed for at least two weeks of production cycles to pass. The count of confirmed cases as a result of the toxin has grown to forty-three, fifteen of which have died, and three of those were children."
"Children!" Corr's expression which had held general interest in the case, suddenly took the form of a concerned and offended figure of authority.
"Yes, and how is unknown."
"What led you then to think that this Al Bano Ditka is responsible?"
"Connecting dots on events that seemed unrelated. However, after interrogating him myself, his intentions were clear. I just cannot confirm my allegations. Recently, Al Bano accepted a large sum of money and his own vineyard. The owner turned up missing until three months ago when the body was discovered. The corpse was filled with an unknown toxin and washed up on a creek not far from Fox Hollow. Two weeks later Castel Ravello suffered a burglary, nothing of substantial value was taken, however a large assortment of rare medicinals and chemicals were lifted. The herbalist confirmed this to be his private stash including stock held for the staff. A month passed without any conflict. Then out of thin air, Amadis de Trastamara, a baron of Toussaint, received a death threat. Not only did it explain a plot to fill the rivers and wines with death and decay, but it was sealed with a wax stamp. This stamp bore a symbol closely related to the symbol used by the vineyard Castel Toricella, of which Al Bano mysteriously acquired ownership of."
"Very well. When do we plan on moving forward then, and whereabouts should I reside?"
"Meet me here first thing at dawn. As for housing, you are welcome to use my guest room upstairs. You should find some things of interest up there as well."
Geralt stood up, his glass clean of all traces of liquid held firmly in hand. "Sleep well we have more to discuss come morn." The words from Geralts mouth sounded foreboding. Corr uttered a thanks and promptly finished his drink. With a deep sign he stood up and made way for the guest room. The blood in his body started to warm, and pulse, and mix with the alcohol. Blurred vision and imbalance started to become an ailment as Corr cautiously stumbled to the upstairs guest room. His hands touched his new bed, at least one of them anyways, and without hesitation his entire body collapsed. "Fucking Witchers," he spoke in a playful tone. The world spun in circles and faded into mono-tone blurs before his eyes shut and sleep took him. Geralt from below heard the faint breathing of his friend upstairs, and giggled. "Hope he can act better than he can hold his liquor."