[Yennefer closes her eyes and wills herself to stand straighter again. Out of the past, safe and removed from what came before. She's a powerful sorceress not a pig farmer's daughter.]
You and your magic--[she can't complete her thought. It's just as well. It was not kind at all. Seeing him in such a state has helped her find her strength.] Nevermind that. Geralt, you must sit.
[John gets a solid stare as she grabs her bag and comes closer. Wet with river water, mud and blood she needs to see where to start.]
[ John takes a few moments to gather his wits and protections about him again. A muttered bit of spellwork and he feels more level-headed again. Leastways until the big, brooding sort stumbles in. ]
John. [ He sniffs and keeps his face impassive. There is little about him that is just anything if his keen senses are anything to go off of. He sits heavily and works on getting his armor out of the way. His movements are slow and sluggish.
John moves over to give a hand. ]
I can help. I'm pretty good in a pinch.
[ Geralt fumbles with a small bag that holds vials of his potions and it makes a clinking sound that proves the last hit that threw him into a tree did, in fact, break them. Damn.
If Yenn trusts this man then he sees no reason why he shouldn't. He lets him take the satchel from him. ]
What was it that you fought, Geralt? Spriggan? A werewolf?
[Something with talons or claws that catch and the ability to fling him about like a rag doll. There's blood in his hair and a spool of woven cotton comes up, a bottle of vodka too.]
Take care. There are more hands now than usual, you have no need to strain.
[Which is far removed from how she has been speaking to John. Her face falls listening to the glass tinkle.]
I could have held those.
[Yennefer still being Yennefer.]
John, you're fond of introductions. Geralt of Rivia, the white haired witcher. He has other titles and hates them all.
[ John carefully works on laying open the bag as Geralt lets Yennefer help him with his armor. His head throbs as his side does. It was a hard battle but he bested the beast. ]
I didn't expect to need you to.
[ He admits.
John offers a quirk of a smile at the introduction. ]
Can't say I blame you, mate. I've gotten called loads of thing. Many of them true, mind, but that doesn't mean I prefer them.
[ Contents laid out on the ground next to them, John waves a hand and focuses his magic. Uttered spellwork falls effortlessly from his lips and the bottles begin to repair themselves with their mixtures still intact. After it is done, he looks to the Witcher. ]
[What was it that John said of them? She makes a scoffing noise in her throat and for all the dainty airs she puts on, she doesn't flinch from the blood and grime on her hands. Leather studded armor pieces and metal move finally. Not the worst though truly was put through the ringer.
The echoing of cries for help and despair from only moments ago makes her want to clutch at him. And remembering the cold nights alone in Aretuza, certain to be cast out to be nothing and no one. Why was that transmitted? She never tells that to anyone. Pains of the past ache. Yennefer wants to be soothed. Not here, not now and not with John present. For now her touch is what will emit her affection. Finally looking from Geralt to John she sees the satchel no longer a wreck.
Maybe he is useful.]
White gull?
[Mild enough for pain, enough to keep him awake. A drop is all it takes to dull what smarts on a normal person. A witcher can handle more. There are plenty of bandages and other wounds to mend.]
[ John is no stranger to grime, blood and muck of all kinds. Neither is she from the looks of it. Nor him.
He casts a glance back down at the bottles, sorting and gently turning them over. He finds the one he's looking for and uncorks it to offer over. Geralt takes it with a grunt and manages after a couple of tries to actually drink it.
It seems to help pretty immediately. Good stuff then. ]
Not my first jaunt around potions.
[ He works on getting more armor out of the way and helping to bandage and mend what he is able. It takes time. It's nearly dark by the time they finish. Geralt is alert still but his exhaustion is clear. ]
[Humor now that she's no longer worried. The trees and the talons of branches have made their mark. The worst of it, of course, across his chest and neck. Yennefer's magic is spent ensuring the deepest portions are no longer a threat to his life. The cotton spool of cloth is put to the test.]
John, thank you. I couldn't have been able to treat him this fast on my own. I can't be of any aid in getting you home, not tonight.
[She hesitates on how to approach the subject of what had happened. The reaction. Her violet eyes move from both men to start a fire.]
[ John sees her relax by degrees as they work and heal him. By the time they are done, everyone is exhausted and ready to call it from the way he sees it. Geralt mutters thanks but he's leaning back against the trunk nearest, eyes struggling to stay open.
John shakes his head when she begins to explain. ]
It's all right. Not like either of us figured any of this would happen. I was glad to help.
[ He doesn't want to bring up what happened or what was gleaned from their connection. ]
[The fire ignites easily. She still takes time to arrange stones to keep it from spreading further than the kindling. The leather bag she has she pulls out wine and sheep skins. One immediately goes to Geralt.]
That has never happened before.
[As though she takes personal offense. Yennefer looks at John, as though trying to decipher thoughts and origin by looks alone. No solutions, same as before when he popped into her room at the inn.]
...Roach is in the forest. Somewhere. A chestnut. Can you call her? Best she stays closer to us. Knowing Geralt he has items in the saddlebags too.
[Speaking of the inn, she moves to kneel by Geralt. Pushing back his sweat and blood caked hair with an unnecessarily careful gesture.]
[ Geralt is having difficulty staying awake. Whether from the energy expended from the fight, his wounds, or a mixture of both. It's also due to his being more relaxed with his chosen company.
John tenses a little when she says what she does. He doesn't want to go into that now. ]
I'll look for her.
[ Any excuse not to impose on their little moment and avoid talking about his tragic past. He'll take it. ]
It's all right, Yenn. [ Little softer and slower. He watches John go out of earshot. ] He's a strange one. Impossible, maybe.
She is reasonable. Most times. Talk to her gently. I'm told that's the secret.
[Yennefer doesn't talk to horses. Not the way Geralt does. Does John even? His world is different than theirs. And he is going off into the forest without a cloak or decent outfit.
The echoes of before, people screaming for him. Pain. Flames. Yennefer lets herself settle closer, minding where she touches the Witcher.]
...he appeared suddenly. I was doing research. Strange is a start to describe him.
[No mind reading is required as to what. Geralt knows her well by now.]
[ He tromps out into the underbrush and calls out for this horse. He's not really sure what direction to go. If he uses a spell to help follow a trail the other man used, so what.
It takes some time but he does find her, coming up on her easy-like. ]
Easy there, love. Your man is back there with his other lady friend. Figured I could reunite the pair of you. Sounds good, yeah?
[ Geralt's brow furrows. He knows what she was working on. ]
The spell went wrong? [ He hums tiredly. ] He's---he's part Witcher.
[Roach had found a thatch of delicious grass and is not expecting company. She lifts her head and nickers. Ears move and cock, listening to him speak. Once close enough, John gets a friendly headbutt to the chest.
At the little makeshift camp, Yen pulls back to look at him. Did he hit his head?]
My spells don't go wrong. The chaos opened and he fell out. That was not my bidding. [But never mind that she scrunches her eyes shut a second before speaking.]
Part Witcher? There aren't any parts. His eyes. His stature. He's a mage of some sort. Why are you saying this?
[ She's a sweet thing, isn't she? John was never up on animals and all. Never grew up with any that weren't the strays that littered his little wasteland where he built his forts. He reaches up to smooth a hand over her head and pat the side of her neck as he takes the reigns. He can let her finish her food first if she likes. Finding her was the difficult part.
Geralt huffs out a tired noise. He saw his magic on the bottles. Felt it. He knows what his magic and that of other Witchers feels like. He also knows what they smell like. ]
Perhaps the chaos has other ideas of how to answer queries. [ He can tell she isn't keen on this conversation. Granted, it's a rather impossible one. ]
I can smell it on him. Somewhere in his lineage there's more than just magic and chaos. Somehow he is part Witcher.
[She can be very sweet yes. And she noses his chest and warm, grassy breath puffing over his neck and face. Oh. This is one is new! She makes a huff and paws. Roach takes a mouth full of her choice grass and lifts her head again to chew it. If he were a horse she'd offer some. For now it's polite to offer.
Knowing and smelling, yes, she understands these. Though emotions already high and hurts she's not ready to talk about make this more abrasive.]
I thought that wasn't possible. You speak so surely.
[Geralt is not a liar. And as much as he's been beaten to a pulp for the day, it would not have done a thing to his senses. Yennefer swallows and starts to shove all what wants to bubble up down.]
Perhaps that is the way of his world. Partial Witchers. No mandate of sterility.
[Gods help her she can't keep the bitterness out of her voice.]
[ John is quickly seeing what makes her so special to the big man healing elsewhere. She offers grass and he chuckles. ]
No, love. You enjoy it. I'm full up on that.
[ He's quickly losing the battle to stay awake. He can sense she is upset. He knows why. It isn't as if Geralt wanted to upset her but he doesn't soften the truth for anyone. She wouldn't appreciate that either way. ]
It shouldn't be possible. It has to be some other kind of magic.
[ John comes up on the small encampment after a while, letting Roach take her time and not tugging or anything. ]
[Another little rumble from the mare. More chewing. She nudges her face into his shoulder. Pets then, formal meeting and now they are friends. Pets please sir. He is rather small. Still he has hands. He speaks softly. What a smell of burned grass. Also blood. Oh. Then he must have seen the big man. Roach is a rational girl, and knows she can trust this man in a funny smelling coat.
Their meander back to camp is a good call. Yennefer sighs and presses a kiss to Geralt's brow. His love has never meant softness, neither has her own. Truth will forever be a shard of ice. Those golden eyes are keep slipping shut. He doesn't need to be tormented by her childishness when already he has hurt today. The cool, light touch of her hand brushes his cheek.]
Any other observations can wait until morning.
[Hooves and footsteps through the brush announce their arrival.]
That did not take near as long as I was anticipating. You're a horsemen too?
[ He chuckles a little at the nudge. She's gentle and easy-going enough. He's only small compared to the likes of that big man of hers. What's a guy like him to do? Okay, so he's kind of small by his own world's standards but he makes up for it.
Geralt is quickly losing the battle to stay awake. He's out of the worse danger wise from injury. If Yennefer trusts this man and he is able to gain the trust of his horse then he cannot be all bad. ]
[Small smokey man and the big man are good men. Flower lady makes the big man happy. She is strange. Smokey man is strange. But it's a good strange, steady strange. And now they are all together. Roach gives another little nosing to John's hand before she goes to find grass near camp. She doesn't need to be tethered if she knows they're near. It's the finding the people that's the hard part sometimes. It's a shame no one here speaks horse.
Across the fire, Yennefer looks to John. He seems even more confusing to behold than when he appeared in the room at the inn. Normal eyes. Normal skin. Peculiar clothes and a haircut.
A witcher.]
Good thing. You would have been searching all night.
[Whether or not Geralt is asleep, Yen gets pulls some sheep skins out for herself. He doesn't need to be bothered. And what would he say to her anyway?]
[ John can sense the tension in the air. He doesn't need to be a mage to do it either. Something happened while he was away, he's guessing. What it could be he's got no idea. ]
[The big man. Yennefer's piercing gaze leaves John for just one look. Sleep has this ability to make him look so very soft and innocent. It's a ridiculous concept.]
Yes. The potions and mending have prevented real injury. At the worst tomorrow he'll be sore and very hungry.
[A typical thing. For a witcher.]
It's what he's used to. Coin for slaying monsters. I'm sure your world has the same.
[ Just a turn of phrase is all. It's how he speaks. Not normal for around these parts but he's not playing along with this. He's going home as soon as he can figure out how to. ]
Glad to hear it.
[ He conjures up a blanket. It's easy to do. Easier here than back home as well. Interesting. He gives a little shrug. ]
Not really. Different kinds of monsters, I suppose. Sure, I've tangled with a few magical ones. My world's mostly the human kind. Worst of the lot if you ask me.
[Geralt is not one to pluck notions out of nothing. She pulls the woolen blanket up further on her.]
There is a growing population of humans. Humans and monsters arrived at the same time at the Conjunction of the Spheres. So many monsters that humanity needed witchers.
[ Geralt isn't. He is also familiar with very human kinds of monsters. He might agree with John and acknowledge that while far-fetched, a world like that is possible. What would humans become if there were no longer any creatures to terrorize them in the dark?
They might turn into them. ]
Magic is not as prevalent in my world. There's a few who dabble. Loads that do it cause they think it'll get them power or fame. Monsters I've run into---Invunche, that demon you had the pleasure of meeting. Even had a hell of a weekend with a siren.
I help where I can but not everyone is willing to entertain the idea of magic and monsters. They'd rather have cold hard science. Probably piss themselves if they stepped into our worlds. [ He casts a glance over at Geralt. ] He a witcher then? What exactly does a man like that do?
Magic and chaos are everywhere. We can be conduits to it's power to bend and shape it. There's a cost for it, shifting and melting means something in turn must give. Perhaps your world has forgotten the order of it?
[She can only guess. She knows next to nothing and all that John has told her is that it's different. The firelight flickers and the wind blows too.]
Witchers aren't born. They're raised, molded and educated from childhood. Fed mutagens for strength, for producing small capacities of magic and being able to endure others without significant effects. I've heard some folk say that witchers are the monsters man made for monsters to fear.
[The man beside her though? Geralt gets another look, softer.]
Geralt of Rivia is no creature. Just a man devoted to the task of curbing the wildlife. He's a conduit of order.
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You and your magic--[she can't complete her thought. It's just as well. It was not kind at all. Seeing him in such a state has helped her find her strength.] Nevermind that. Geralt, you must sit.
[John gets a solid stare as she grabs her bag and comes closer. Wet with river water, mud and blood she needs to see where to start.]
This is Just John. He's a mage.
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John. [ He sniffs and keeps his face impassive. There is little about him that is just anything if his keen senses are anything to go off of. He sits heavily and works on getting his armor out of the way. His movements are slow and sluggish.
John moves over to give a hand. ]
I can help. I'm pretty good in a pinch.
[ Geralt fumbles with a small bag that holds vials of his potions and it makes a clinking sound that proves the last hit that threw him into a tree did, in fact, break them. Damn.
If Yenn trusts this man then he sees no reason why he shouldn't. He lets him take the satchel from him. ]
Here, I can have a look.
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[Something with talons or claws that catch and the ability to fling him about like a rag doll. There's blood in his hair and a spool of woven cotton comes up, a bottle of vodka too.]
Take care. There are more hands now than usual, you have no need to strain.
[Which is far removed from how she has been speaking to John. Her face falls listening to the glass tinkle.]
I could have held those.
[Yennefer still being Yennefer.]
John, you're fond of introductions. Geralt of Rivia, the white haired witcher. He has other titles and hates them all.
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Spriggan.
[ John carefully works on laying open the bag as Geralt lets Yennefer help him with his armor. His head throbs as his side does. It was a hard battle but he bested the beast. ]
I didn't expect to need you to.
[ He admits.
John offers a quirk of a smile at the introduction. ]
Can't say I blame you, mate. I've gotten called loads of thing. Many of them true, mind, but that doesn't mean I prefer them.
[ Contents laid out on the ground next to them, John waves a hand and focuses his magic. Uttered spellwork falls effortlessly from his lips and the bottles begin to repair themselves with their mixtures still intact. After it is done, he looks to the Witcher. ]
Any one of these you need in particular?
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[What was it that John said of them? She makes a scoffing noise in her throat and for all the dainty airs she puts on, she doesn't flinch from the blood and grime on her hands. Leather studded armor pieces and metal move finally. Not the worst though truly was put through the ringer.
The echoing of cries for help and despair from only moments ago makes her want to clutch at him. And remembering the cold nights alone in Aretuza, certain to be cast out to be nothing and no one. Why was that transmitted? She never tells that to anyone. Pains of the past ache. Yennefer wants to be soothed. Not here, not now and not with John present. For now her touch is what will emit her affection. Finally looking from Geralt to John she sees the satchel no longer a wreck.
Maybe he is useful.]
White gull?
[Mild enough for pain, enough to keep him awake. A drop is all it takes to dull what smarts on a normal person. A witcher can handle more. There are plenty of bandages and other wounds to mend.]
Mind the labels.
[Because it will make all the difference.]
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He casts a glance back down at the bottles, sorting and gently turning them over. He finds the one he's looking for and uncorks it to offer over. Geralt takes it with a grunt and manages after a couple of tries to actually drink it.
It seems to help pretty immediately. Good stuff then. ]
Not my first jaunt around potions.
[ He works on getting more armor out of the way and helping to bandage and mend what he is able. It takes time. It's nearly dark by the time they finish. Geralt is alert still but his exhaustion is clear. ]
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[Humor now that she's no longer worried. The trees and the talons of branches have made their mark. The worst of it, of course, across his chest and neck. Yennefer's magic is spent ensuring the deepest portions are no longer a threat to his life. The cotton spool of cloth is put to the test.]
John, thank you. I couldn't have been able to treat him this fast on my own. I can't be of any aid in getting you home, not tonight.
[She hesitates on how to approach the subject of what had happened. The reaction. Her violet eyes move from both men to start a fire.]
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[ John sees her relax by degrees as they work and heal him. By the time they are done, everyone is exhausted and ready to call it from the way he sees it. Geralt mutters thanks but he's leaning back against the trunk nearest, eyes struggling to stay open.
John shakes his head when she begins to explain. ]
It's all right. Not like either of us figured any of this would happen. I was glad to help.
[ He doesn't want to bring up what happened or what was gleaned from their connection. ]
Anything else I can lend a hand with?
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That has never happened before.
[As though she takes personal offense. Yennefer looks at John, as though trying to decipher thoughts and origin by looks alone. No solutions, same as before when he popped into her room at the inn.]
...Roach is in the forest. Somewhere. A chestnut. Can you call her? Best she stays closer to us. Knowing Geralt he has items in the saddlebags too.
[Speaking of the inn, she moves to kneel by Geralt. Pushing back his sweat and blood caked hair with an unnecessarily careful gesture.]
I promised you a bath and a bed, not tonight.
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John tenses a little when she says what she does. He doesn't want to go into that now. ]
I'll look for her.
[ Any excuse not to impose on their little moment and avoid talking about his tragic past. He'll take it. ]
It's all right, Yenn. [ Little softer and slower. He watches John go out of earshot. ] He's a strange one. Impossible, maybe.
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[Yennefer doesn't talk to horses. Not the way Geralt does. Does John even? His world is different than theirs. And he is going off into the forest without a cloak or decent outfit.
The echoes of before, people screaming for him. Pain. Flames. Yennefer lets herself settle closer, minding where she touches the Witcher.]
...he appeared suddenly. I was doing research. Strange is a start to describe him.
[No mind reading is required as to what. Geralt knows her well by now.]
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[ He tromps out into the underbrush and calls out for this horse. He's not really sure what direction to go. If he uses a spell to help follow a trail the other man used, so what.
It takes some time but he does find her, coming up on her easy-like. ]
Easy there, love. Your man is back there with his other lady friend. Figured I could reunite the pair of you. Sounds good, yeah?
[ Geralt's brow furrows. He knows what she was working on. ]
The spell went wrong? [ He hums tiredly. ] He's---he's part Witcher.
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At the little makeshift camp, Yen pulls back to look at him. Did he hit his head?]
My spells don't go wrong. The chaos opened and he fell out. That was not my bidding. [But never mind that she scrunches her eyes shut a second before speaking.]
Part Witcher? There aren't any parts. His eyes. His stature. He's a mage of some sort. Why are you saying this?
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Geralt huffs out a tired noise. He saw his magic on the bottles. Felt it. He knows what his magic and that of other Witchers feels like. He also knows what they smell like. ]
Perhaps the chaos has other ideas of how to answer queries. [ He can tell she isn't keen on this conversation. Granted, it's a rather impossible one. ]
I can smell it on him. Somewhere in his lineage there's more than just magic and chaos. Somehow he is part Witcher.
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Knowing and smelling, yes, she understands these. Though emotions already high and hurts she's not ready to talk about make this more abrasive.]
I thought that wasn't possible. You speak so surely.
[Geralt is not a liar. And as much as he's been beaten to a pulp for the day, it would not have done a thing to his senses. Yennefer swallows and starts to shove all what wants to bubble up down.]
Perhaps that is the way of his world. Partial Witchers. No mandate of sterility.
[Gods help her she can't keep the bitterness out of her voice.]
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No, love. You enjoy it. I'm full up on that.
[ He's quickly losing the battle to stay awake. He can sense she is upset. He knows why. It isn't as if Geralt wanted to upset her but he doesn't soften the truth for anyone. She wouldn't appreciate that either way. ]
It shouldn't be possible. It has to be some other kind of magic.
[ John comes up on the small encampment after a while, letting Roach take her time and not tugging or anything. ]
Told you I'd find your man. He's just resting up.
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Their meander back to camp is a good call. Yennefer sighs and presses a kiss to Geralt's brow. His love has never meant softness, neither has her own. Truth will forever be a shard of ice. Those golden eyes are keep slipping shut. He doesn't need to be tormented by her childishness when already he has hurt today. The cool, light touch of her hand brushes his cheek.]
Any other observations can wait until morning.
[Hooves and footsteps through the brush announce their arrival.]
That did not take near as long as I was anticipating. You're a horsemen too?
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Geralt is quickly losing the battle to stay awake. He's out of the worse danger wise from injury. If Yennefer trusts this man and he is able to gain the trust of his horse then he cannot be all bad. ]
No, I suppose she just likes me.
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Across the fire, Yennefer looks to John. He seems even more confusing to behold than when he appeared in the room at the inn. Normal eyes. Normal skin. Peculiar clothes and a haircut.
A witcher.]
Good thing. You would have been searching all night.
[Whether or not Geralt is asleep, Yen gets pulls some sheep skins out for herself. He doesn't need to be bothered. And what would he say to her anyway?]
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The big man over there, he going to be all right?
[ As good a subject as any to bring up. ]
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Yes. The potions and mending have prevented real injury. At the worst tomorrow he'll be sore and very hungry.
[A typical thing. For a witcher.]
It's what he's used to. Coin for slaying monsters. I'm sure your world has the same.
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Glad to hear it.
[ He conjures up a blanket. It's easy to do. Easier here than back home as well. Interesting. He gives a little shrug. ]
Not really. Different kinds of monsters, I suppose. Sure, I've tangled with a few magical ones. My world's mostly the human kind. Worst of the lot if you ask me.
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Not really?
[Geralt is not one to pluck notions out of nothing. She pulls the woolen blanket up further on her.]
There is a growing population of humans. Humans and monsters arrived at the same time at the Conjunction of the Spheres. So many monsters that humanity needed witchers.
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They might turn into them. ]
Magic is not as prevalent in my world. There's a few who dabble. Loads that do it cause they think it'll get them power or fame. Monsters I've run into---Invunche, that demon you had the pleasure of meeting. Even had a hell of a weekend with a siren.
I help where I can but not everyone is willing to entertain the idea of magic and monsters. They'd rather have cold hard science. Probably piss themselves if they stepped into our worlds. [ He casts a glance over at Geralt. ] He a witcher then? What exactly does a man like that do?
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[She can only guess. She knows next to nothing and all that John has told her is that it's different. The firelight flickers and the wind blows too.]
Witchers aren't born. They're raised, molded and educated from childhood. Fed mutagens for strength, for producing small capacities of magic and being able to endure others without significant effects. I've heard some folk say that witchers are the monsters man made for monsters to fear.
[The man beside her though? Geralt gets another look, softer.]
Geralt of Rivia is no creature. Just a man devoted to the task of curbing the wildlife. He's a conduit of order.
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wrap this one?
sounds good <3