"Elixirs," Geralt corrected. "They let me see in the dark. They stop my heart from stopping when a troll tries to cave in my ribs."
and stale ale. In the corner, obscured by shadows, sat a figure whose presence felt like a jagged blade in a room full of spoons. He didn't wear the fur-lined iron of a Nord or the elegant silks of a Solitude noble. Instead, he wore boiled leather, crisscrossed with silver studs, and two swords on his back—one of steel, one of shimmering silver. "You're far from home, Witcher," a voice rasped.
"Work," Geralt replied, his cat-like eyes catching the hearth fire.
Geralt of Rivia didn't look up from his mug. "Home is a relative term. These days, it’s wherever the monsters are. And Skyrim has plenty."
"Elixirs," Geralt corrected. "They let me see in the dark. They stop my heart from stopping when a troll tries to cave in my ribs."
and stale ale. In the corner, obscured by shadows, sat a figure whose presence felt like a jagged blade in a room full of spoons. He didn't wear the fur-lined iron of a Nord or the elegant silks of a Solitude noble. Instead, he wore boiled leather, crisscrossed with silver studs, and two swords on his back—one of steel, one of shimmering silver. "You're far from home, Witcher," a voice rasped.
"Work," Geralt replied, his cat-like eyes catching the hearth fire.
Geralt of Rivia didn't look up from his mug. "Home is a relative term. These days, it’s wherever the monsters are. And Skyrim has plenty."
