#gwent: lore

Dettlaff van der Eretein

Chest 1: Witchers used to classify higher vampires as a distinct species. However, their logic was not fully sound, for each possesses its own unique character and abilities. Regis, for example, was a loner endowed with extraordinary intellect. Dettlaff, by contrast, seemed destined to lead a flock. Lower forms of vampires such as katakans, ekimmaras, and bruxae answered his every call without delay. The inhabitants of Beauclair would quickly learn the disastrous consequences of such overwhelming control...

Chest 2: Perhaps the most distinctive piece of Dettlaff's attire is a jewel-encrusted brooch crafted in the shape of a moth – a gift bestowed to him by Regis. Dettlaff viewed the token as a symbol of his connection with the night. Regis, however, held a different association in mind. He knew his friend, driven primal urges, would – like a moth – always be drawn back to the light. Even if that meant he would one day be consumed by the flames.

Chest 3: After Dettlaff slayed four knights of Toussaint guilty of despicable acts, he became known to Toussaintois as the Beast of Beauclair. Sentenced to death for the killings, the Toussaint court summoned a witcher to track and kill the unknown monster. Dettlaff could but watch on in utter disbelief, for the widely adored Duchess Anna Henrietta has condemned dozens to the scaffold for much, much less! Even the monster slayer called to Toussaint had more innocent lives on his conscience than the alleged beast he was commissioned to kill! This was the tipping point. Dettlaff decided to no longer adhere to the laws of men. He would instead impose upon them the vampiric code of honor – a system founded on the harshest punishments...

Scroll 1: Dettlaff once tried to live among people in peace. He muzzled his bloodlust, mastered the Common Speech, and perfected the basics of courtly etiquette. Over time, he began to make friends of humans... And in one in particular, he found a lover.

Scroll 2: His beloved's name was Syanna. Dettlaff's love for her was absolute. He was prepared to do any and all for her. In fact, Syanna made ample use of his love-driven dedication... That is, until the day she vanished without a trace or a word.

Scroll 3: Syanna likely assumed that Dettlaff would swallow the bitter pill of rejection like all her lovers before him. Alas, the reasoning of vampires works differently than in men. And so, too, did Dettlaff's fury burn more fiercely.

Vernon Roche

Chest 1: Vernon Roche never graduated the officers' academy, nor did ever bury his nose in the chronicles of bygone wars. He acquired his experience, rather, by drunken brawls in dark alleys and smokey taverns. Had Foltest never seen something in him and pulled him from the gutter, his fate may have turned out differently altogether.

Chest 2: The Blue Stripes special forces unit was created to pacify the Scoia'tael presence in Temeria. Its beginnings were difficult as few soldiers were eager to hunt elves in the forest. Rather than accept a slow stream of volunteers, Vernon decided to enlist prisoners – deserters, swindlers, and bandits included. Most perished quickly, pierced by the silent arrows of the Squirrels... Leaving only the most hardiest and craftiest whoresons in his ranks.

Chest 3: Many claim they would do anything for their homeland, but when push comes to shove, these noble pledges often fall short. Vernon Roche proved a stark exception, willing to make any sacrifice for Temeria. Thus, when Nilfgaard occupied the kingdom, he refused to hang up his sword. And even though his squad numbered just a shade over twenty, the Temerian partisans were never extinguished.

Scroll 1: Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, frayed chaperon atop his head. His name uttered by non-humans to frighten their naughty children. This is Vernon Roche, commander of the Blue Stripes elite special forces unit.

Scroll 2: Considered by some a hero, by others a criminal, though perhaps Thaler put it best. "A bloody patriot and rotten..." Well... You get the idea.

Scroll 3: Roche had the lives of countless enemies on his conscience. Many even who had raised their arms in surrender, no doubt. After all, the Blue Stripes take no prisoners...

Vesemir

Chest: For many, the phrase "with age comes wisdom" often doesn't apply, but for Vesemir, it is surely the case. However, it was not the numerous punishments imposed on him by Barmin that ended his disobedience, but the harsh reality of consequences⁠—specifically, when others had to pay the price for his sins. When his nighttime indulgences ended up costing the life of someone he promised to defend... Well, that was enough to change the witcher's ways. And with each preventable death he witnessed, he became more and more serious, year after year, until he took on the role of fencing master at Kaer Morhen. Famous for his extensive knowledge and rigorous approach to training, he ensured his young witcher adepts were thoroughly disciplined⁠—for their own good, and the well-being of those they would later have to protect.

Scroll 1: Though it is hard to believe now, Vesemir was once young. After his Trial of Grasses, he was still trying to grow his first beard. Fortunately, he was completely unscathed by the murderous training he underwent⁠—collecting no scars nor deformations. Apart from the colour of his eyes, nothing about his appearance betrayed the witcher mutations.

Scroll 2: Thus, when the young Vesemir⁠—together with master Barmin⁠—set out on the trail for the first time, he found a simple way to hide his provenance. He wore a wide-brimmed hat. The one and only that became Papa Vesemir's famous hat, which no other witcher was allowed to wear, especially Lambert.

Scroll 3: Donning his voluminous cloak and favourite hat, young Vesemir sneaked out under Barmin's nose to devote himself to activities frowned upon by his mentor. In short, he wandered around the local pubs, took part in every possible party and wedding, or climbed the balconies of various mansions to reach one of the court ladies' bedrooms. As for the houses of ill repute... Suffice to say that Vesemir visited more of them in his long life than Eskel, Lambert and Geralt combined.

Letho of Gulet

Chest 1: Witchers have many weapons in their arsenal: swords both silver and steel, chains, daggers, and throwing knives. Two-handed weapons are uncommon for one simple reason – weight. But for Letho of Gulet, that was never an issue. He swung a two-handed blade with the same ease and speed that others enjoy when wielding a dagger or rapier.

Chest 2: The relationship between Letho and another legendary witcher, Geralt of Rivia, was rather... Complicated. At different points in time, each of them had both saved and threatened the other's life. But how did their odd story finally end? It depends on whom you ask. Some believe that Geralt killed Letho at the ruins of Loc Muinne, while others claim that the two had agreed to part ways in peace. Alas, the truth yet remains a mystery...

Chest 3: Letho was always aware of the impression he had upon others. He never raised his voice nor made threats, for there was no need. He knew his very appearance was enough to make even the fiercest bandits shake in their boots. Letho also knew that he appeared to others as a dull-witted thug. Yet, despite possessing a superior intelligence, he made no attempt to challenge this impression. He knew people could be careless with their words if they thought they were speaking to a dumb sack of potatoes.

Scroll 1: Witcher training places great importance on endurance and agility rather than strength alone. After all, what good can a hulking mountain of muscle do against the lightning-fast strikes of a bruxa or striga... Right?

Scroll 2: Letho of Gulet was a witcher of the School of the Viper – an misleading association given his imposing stature. Though as large as a fiend and strong as a bull, his reflexes and agility rivaled those of other witchers... Making him an extremely formidable opponent.

Scroll 3: His prowess in combat would, indeed, have a major impact on the people of the Continent, for he struck down not one, but two leaders in the North... Yet, what could have led Letho from his path as a monster slayer to that of an assassin of kings?

Geralt of Rivia

Chest 1: Did you know that Geralt of Rivia did not, in fact, hail from Rivia? Having been an orphan, he adopted the by-name in place of the surname he never had. Initially, the witcher had planned to dub himself Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde, but his mentor, Vesemir, in a few short yet sharp words, convinced him it might not be the best idea. And rightfully so!

Chest 2: Geralt had the custom of giving all his horses the very same name – Roach – no matter whether stallion or mare. And every steed which bore the name was exceptionally well-mannered. One whistle and the horse would appear right at his side. That is, given that there weren't any obstacles in the way...

Chest 3: At every opportunity – even if the situation hadn't called for it – Geralt expressed his hatred for portals. A perfectly reasonable attitude given that portals are not the safest means of transport, despite what mages would have you believe. It's not uncommon for a traveler to experience nausea and headaches after emerging from a portal – even to emerge in an entirely unexpected location. Or, indeed, fail to emerge at all.

Scroll 1: Does such a man truly need introduction? Well, for those living under a rock, I present to you Geralt of Rivia – witcher from the School of the Wolf, known to elves and dryads as Gwynbleidd, the greatest swordsman of the North. Behold the White Wolf – a true legend for the ages.

Scroll 2: Geralt's list of feats seems to go on without end. It was he who lifted the curse that plagued Princess Adda of Temeria, expelled the djinn from the city of Rinde, and slew the King of the Wild Hunt. Yet was there anything from his life of which he was most proud?

Scroll 3: Indeed, there was – being a good father to Ciri. He taught her everything he knew, surrounded her with love, and gave her support in their most difficult times. When Ciri's circumstances were most dire and she sought him out for help, Geralt never let her down.

Eldain

Chest 1: It's commonly known that Eldain had a soft spot for music. In fact, prior to joining the Scoia'tael, he frequented human festivals as a lutist. On one occasion, Eldain's forces captured a minstrel who requested to sing rather than utter his final words, in the hopes that Eldain would be swayed to mercy. Indeed, with a grin across his face, Eldain enjoyed and applauded the bard's performance. He then ordered the man flayed alive.

Chest 2: Eldain selected the Moulderwood as the base of his commando's operation, for it was a primordial forest so dense that even under the glare of the noon sun it bore the semblance of twilight. Only two types of human caravans ever traversed it: those surrounded by at least twenty armed guards, and those that never emerged.

Chest 3: When Eldain's commando seized control of the Moulderwood, many Aen Seidhe insisted he rebuild the numerous elven ruins scattered throughout, yet Eldain always refused. Some suspected the ruins benefited the Scoia'tael by reminding the elves of human cruelty. The truth was much more mundane. Columns serve as better cover when toppled.

Scroll 1: Eldain tried, with all the strength his will could muster, to live in peace among humans. He bowed to his neighbors in respect, brushed off insults and the occasional shove. Yet when the surrounding orchards suffered from blight, a scapegoat was needed. Someone, anyone to blame for their misfortune. Eldain was an elf – and that was enough.

Scroll 2: Eldain joined the Scoia'tael fully aware that their war was doomed to fail, and at the end of that road only death awaited him. He decided, therefore, that his mission in life would be to live on in memories of humans – as a nightmare.

Scroll 3: Eldain knows how to stir and play on people's fears. He tortures his victims in roadside thickets, where their screams are within earshot of every passing traveler. The mutilated corpses he then leaves exposed to rot near human settlements.

Brehen

Chest: Brehen never considered saving the princess. Even if the myths were true⁠—and he seriously doubted it⁠—breaking the curse would be a lot more work and certainly more dangerous. The risk just wasn’t worth the reward. Besides, witchers were made for killing and Brehen had no intention of exhausting himself any more than he had to. The bounty would still stand if he claimed self-defence and no one else would be around to prove otherwise. So, on the next full moon, with weapons prepped and decoctions consumed, the Cat of Iello crept into the vaults beneath the forsaken palace, ready to end the murderous reign of the striga once and for all. Upon seeing her muscular physique, deadly-sharp claws, and hideous form, Brehen showed no fear nor concern. On the contrary, he scoffed at the sight of the cursed princess and sneered mockingly: “You’re not my first royal.” Alas, she would be his last.

Scroll 1: As a member of the Feline witchers, Brehen’s training focused on speed, precision, and agility—a skill set perfect for the nefarious acts of assassination ofttimes connected to the School of the Cat. So, despite his versatility during combat, one could say the most flexible thing about Brehen was his morality... and they’d be right.

Scroll 2: Like most of his kin, Brehen was a rogue and an outcast. Prone to bouts of heightened emotion and erratic behaviour—attributed to the school’s warped mutation process—Brehen’s volatile nature was infamous. Mostly due to his hand in the massacre at the town of Iello, which forever branded him with the shady moniker: Cat of Iello.

Scroll 3: Upon travelling to Vizima—where he intended to claim the reward for curing King Foltest’s daughter of her monstrous curse—Brehen had a chance encounter with Geralt at The Wild Boar and Stag tavern. Believing the rival witcher was out to steal the bounty for himself, Brehen confronted the White Wolf. Whether it was confidence in his own fighting prowess, or the knowledge that Geralt was currently unarmed, Brehen attempted to coerce his opponent into a duel, declaring that only one of them would make it out alive.

Emhyr var Emreis

Chest 1: Emhyr var Emreis was prepared to do anything for the sake of power. Spark a war. Kill his own wife. Hurt his own daughter. All without raising his voice, without shedding a tear. His cold eyes never betrayed a glimmer of emotion. They say even the golems who serve in the Imperial Army have more heart than he...

Chest 2: According to royal biographers, Emhyr had, in fact, grown up a bright and cheerful lad, the apple of his father's eye. But then a coup gripped the Imperial court. The conspirators attempted to coerce Fergus var Emreis to cooperate by torturing his son in front of his very eyes. Unsuccessful, the Usurper enlisted the help of a mage, Braathens, who would transform Emhyr into a freakish, hedgehog-like man-beast. Steadfast and unflinching in the face of his son's hideous curse, the plotters had no recourse but to assassinate Fergus.

Chest 3: For many years Emhyr plotted his revenge. At first overwhelmed with pain and fury, he howled his throat raw, ripped hair from head, clawed at his own flesh until caked in blood. But in time  his temper cooled and he began to analyze, to calculate. Upon regaining the Imperial throne, Emhyr coldly condemned his father's conspirators to death. He watched their executions in full, then stood without a word and returned to work.

Scroll 1: Emhyr var Emreis, the White Flame Dancing on the Graves of his Foes. No other name arouses such fear in the hearts of Nordlings. It was during his reign Nilfgaardian forces crossed the Yaruga into the North for the first time... And the second... Oh, and the third...

Scroll 2: What motivated Emhyr var Emreis? Historians have long debated it. Some have argued he bent to the will of merchants and traders. Others – that he sought new, fertile lands for Nilfgaardian settlement. But what was the truth?

Scroll 3: Emhyr was a man of near-unparalleled ambition whose plans extended far into the future. In short, the throne of Nilfgaard was never enough for him... He wished to rule the world.