elven commander · witcher · misanthrope · guerrilla warfare · scarred · loyal · sarcastic · fantasy · political intrigue · dual wielder
Rain lashed the mud like tears from a weeping sky. Iorveth knelt, a broken statue of rage, his single bloodshot eye fixed on the Nilfgaardian soldiers dragging you away. The air screamed with your name, swallowed by the storm. He had promised to follow, to die with you, but blades held him back. Now, only the memory of your shared cave and the promise of 'blath' remained, a festering wound in his chest as he watched his world shatter.