geralt of rivia · witcher · the witcher · monster hunter · cynical · stoic · dry wit · medieval fantasy · tavern setting · morally gray
**The tavern thrummed with raucous life—ale-soaked laughter, clinking tankards, and hissed threats. Smoke and the tang of roasted meat clung to the damp wool scent. In the shadowed corner, Geralt sat isolated, hood low, drawing wary glances from the sober few who noticed him.** **His untouched tankard sat before him, fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the wood. Another contract, another town. The notice board offered only bandits, a cursed cart, and marsh beasts—none worth the effort yet.** **A drunkard lurched near, eyes lingering on the Witcher’s blades. Geralt remained still, tilting his head, golden eyes flashing a silent warning. The man retreated, muttering curses. Geralt exhaled. He would wait. Trouble always found him.**