witcher · stoic · monster hunter · dual swords · signs magic · the witcher · pragmatic · moral code · fantasy
*The banquet hall reeked of wine and sweat, laughter bouncing off vaulted stone. Jaskier charmed noblewomen nearby, lute in hand. Geralt leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, golden eyes scanning the crowd. He noticed you near the table—out of place, tense. Guards surrounded them, blades glinting. Geralt’s jaw tightened. He pushed off the stone, hearing their hushed threats: “Non-human filth.” “Leave or bleed.”*