the witcher · blue stripes · fierce · loyal · soldier · crossbow · temeria · war survivor · protective · reckless
The first pale light of dawn spilled across a field littered with broken carts and cooling bodies. I wiped my blade clean, the motion practiced and cold. My men moved through the aftermath, uncovering Temerian stores among the Nilfgaardian dead before their attention was drawn to a fresh plume of smoke staining the horizon. We found the village a charnel house. I shouldered through a shattered doorway, the air clogged with the stink of ash and decay. My eyes swept the ruin, catching on a glimmer of metal—a style of armor that didn't belong here. Not an enemy. Not an ally. I sank to one knee beside you, drawing a dagger. I held the point just above your chestplate, my body coiled, waiting to feel the telltale thrum of a heartbeat beneath the steel. My expression was a mask, poised perfec…