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#decemberxmorning
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Continued from here II @decemberxmorning
As the contours of the woman who had just appeared in his office tightened, Ezekiel stopped breathing for a moment. Emiel had described her beautiful black curls, but they were now stuck under a layer of blood, dirt and branches. Her clothes were torn in many places, although they were made of precious fabrics: black and white, also as Emiel had told. 
But this did not affect her beauty; she was extraordinary.
But the thing that made the humanists' blood freeze in his veins was the crossbow bolt that was stuck in her side. Ezekiel thought the fact that she could still stand despite this injury was remarkable. What a tough woman...
"By the gods..." The vampire dropped the shirt he was about to put on and took a few big steps towards the sorceress: "You teleported yourself directly to the right office - it seems to be fitting that I am a healer.” He stabilised her by placing her arm over his neck and grabbing her by the hip with his other hand.
She looked up at him, exhausted and distorted with pain, and he gave her the best smile he thought appropriate for the situation. "It would be better if I took you to my lecture hall where I have a sanitised operating area, but I think my desk will have to do for now."
He lifted her up so far that it would not cause her too much pain. Then he gently placed her on his desk and hurriedly put the papers aside. Then he put on his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and fetched his doctor's bag. 
"You have to lean to the other side where the bolt is not stuck. I'm afraid I'll have to cut your corset open, otherwise I can't get to the wound. The bolt is deep and I don't have any anaesthetic here... Oh, wait."
He quickly thought about what he could give her to temper the pain she was about to go through. After all Yennefer didn't seem able to cast a spell of protection on herself. 
He searched his cupboards in the hope of finding yarrow, willow bark or chamomile. Nothing. He cursed inwardly and after further searches only found a bottle of spirit, which his dwarfish accountant had brought him.
"I swear to you, I'm a good doctor, really. Even though I have given all my medicines to my students, and even though I have to anaesthetize a world-famous sorceress with dwarven alcohol..." 
He raised his eyebrow and handed Yennefer the bottle: "Drink, drink plenty." He opened his bag, in which his surgical instruments shone. First, he took a bottle of transparent liquid from it and poured it gently over the instruments. He then poured the rest over both hands and took the scissors, only to approach Yennefer's clothes a little later. Carefully he cut a hole around the point of entry.
The bolt had not penetrated deeply, but it still required dexterity to pull it out. "This will hurt, I'm afraid I can't prevent it. But I'll make it fast."
He reached around the wood with his whole hand, wiggled a little to loosen it. The sorceress hissed. Ezekiel looked at her briefly and when she had given him the okay with a short nod, he pulled the bolt out with a jerk. Then he placed a clean cloth on her wound so that the bleeding would not become too intense. "Press the cloth firmly onto the wound." He opened another bottle of the transparent liquid and then approached Yennefer again. He removed the cloth and then poured the liquid over the wound, making it difficult for the sorceress to breathe.  
He dabbed the blood with another cloth, then soaked it again with the liquid and cleaned the wound once more. Wordlessly he went back to his bag, this time taking a thin needle through the eye of which he pushed a filigree thread, then he held it over a candle that had already been well burnt. 
While he twisted it between his fingers, he examined the sorceress. "Now it will hurt bitterly again, but then it will be over."
The needle was heated and Ezekiel knelt down before Yennefer to start sewing up the wound. The first time the needle penetrated her skin, she flinched, but Ezekiel was quick and highly skilled at what he was doing.
Ten small stitches were needed to seal the wound. When the vampire was finished, he dabbed off the remaining blood. "Finished. I tried hard not to blemish your delicate skin too much. When I remove the stitches in a fortnight, there will only be a tiny scar left. I'll get some ointment right away to speed up the healing process."
He smiled so that she could see his sharp teeth and then fuzzed through his hair. Smirking he grabbed the bolt and examined it: "Mhm, Nilfgaard Arbaleste. Third Infantry. I am curious, but my discretion forbids me to ask."
He put the bolt away and before the sorceress could say a word, they were disturbed by a loud knock at the door. Two of Ezekiel’s students rushed in, the tall Casper and the somewhat stocky Mertlin:  "Master Ezekiel, the sweet two peaches from the medicine department have finally agreed to picnic with us! You're such a womanizer, what should we pack for food?" Casper's eyes were shining, but the shine faded quickly when he saw Yennefer. 
"Excuse me, dear lady," he lifted an imaginary hat and looked pointedly, which Ezekiel suppressed directly with a sharp look. 
"I will help you, boys. But now listen to me. I won’t repeat it: Lady Yennefer is our guest at the Academy. You will immediately go to the building management and have them prepare the best room for her, with a rich dinner and a hot tub. Have arnica, blackberry leaves, goldenrod and ribwort added. And light the fireplace. Right away, shoo shoo. You can come to my place tomorrow night, I've got some ale and advice for you."
The two nodded and scurried out again as quickly as they had come. "I'm sorry. How boys are - always a little wild. Feel better already?"
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dragonofdivinity · 4 years
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Closed Starter for @decemberxmorning
Swearing in her native elven tongue, she had been caught in an unfortunate predicament. On the journey back to her home clan atop her black warhorse, she had been caught in a brewing store. The wind was howling and whistling through the trees and bushes growing stronger by the minute. The blackened clouded began to crackled and roar with thunder, flashing with lightning. The occasional bolt crashing down to earth miles away from where they ventured. Rain fell from the sky like tiny pellets of ice falling from the sky; ice cold in tempurature. Cover was necessary to find. The grueling feeling of ice cold water and strong wind against the fire drake had only been growing ever more torturous the longer she remained in this hellish storm.
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She sweared to herself once again in her native tongue, soon to command Kasai to ignite, seeing a need to keep warm. With a loud, echoing neigh and a push up to her hind legs, the blackened mare burst into a bright orange blaze. Her body’s appearance resembled crusted over, molten lava flowing from a freshly erupting volcano while her goat-like horns curled and wrapped around in an almost complete circle, similarly to a ram’s headset. Her body temperate rivaled that of lava in turn, but that did not bother Akane in the slightest. She needed it, actually.
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With a kick and a ‘YAH!’ the blazing mare took off in a gallop, quick along the path. Her hooves stamps and trampled the moistened and muddy dirt below. Puddles sizzled just as the drips of rain did, immediately evaporating upon making contact. The rain had fallen thicker and thicker, harder and harder. One hand kept Kasai’s reins, the other arm had been risen, attempting to shield her face from the icy droplets of water.
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The rain, alone made it difficult to see, it was hard to keep track of where she had been going until... The atmosphere changed so quickly. It was so... Bright and sunny. Akane immediately pulled back her reigns to put Kasai to a skidding HALT in her tracks, leaving skid marks, razing the fresh grass from the dirt below. Once again, Kasai found herself upon her heind legs, kicking her front legs up in the air as she let out another loud neigh. Her blazing flames crackling at her ankles and mane, bright and orange. Her eyes and nostrils glowing yellow, almost white in color.
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After calming down, the hellhorse set herself back down, huffing somewhat and breathing heavily from her recent activity. Her tail swayed and whipped behind her. Akane, however... Was confused and incredibly so. Where was this place? How did she get here? What happened? The elven woman was dumbfounded at the occurrence, simply staring on in shock and awe. Eventually, it shot her, immediately making her look back at where she came from, staring on in utter confusion, trying to figure out just what had happened. Unfortunately, it was too late. The moment the elf looked over, the portal she crossed through was closing. It was far too small to travel and far too dangerous to do so.
Sooner or later, the sinking feeling of being stranding began to dawn on the woman. She didn’t know what to do. What to think. How to feel. Akane was completely stunned as a result.
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aensxevherne · 4 years
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Closed Starter for @decemberxmorning || Starter Call
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“I don’t believe I’ve had the proper chance to thank you. For breaking the curse and keeping me alive, that is. Had it not been for your intellect, finding Zireael might have been far more difficult.”
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Yennefer for NSFW Meme
How interested they are in having sex with them: Deeply and often.
How much they would pay (or have to be paid) to have sex with them: No coins either way, he wants what they have to matter, not be a business transaction ;). He leaves that sort of stuff for his Witchering life.
If they would rather bottom or top them: Top, though can do bottom if the mood is right.
How good they think they would be: Perfection. And they would be quite correct.
If they’d prefer kitchen counter, wall, or shower sex with them: Bath first, the other two and countless others to follow afterwards. He wants it all.
If they’d fuck, have sex, or make love: Generous amounts of each of the three, depending on what mood strikes ;). 
If they were going to make it a threesome, the third person they’d pick: Margarita, Francesca Findabair, Saskia the Dragon or a Succubus. Or the Sorceress lady’s choice, whoever works, he isn’t completely picky.
If they think there’s ever a possibility that it would happen: Far more than a possibility, with destiny on their side.
@decemberxmorning   
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lonewitcher-blog · 8 years
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A face full of Lies
@decemberxmorning
      He agreed to rid the city of its problem. It was suppose to be like any other Witcher contract. What was there to worry about? He was done contracts in Novigrad before. Ekimmara, Botching, a Succubus, it was all the same to him, as long as he got paid the arranged fee. He assumed it was a creature that he was tasked to hunt down, but he was wrong. Dead wrong.
      The sun had completed its tour for the day, and had now been replaced by myriad stars. A low, waning gibbous moon hovered tenuously in the twilight firmament, bestowing a very dim light upon the city. Jhin was sprinting after a hooded individual. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. Exhaustion was taking a toll on his body. Deprivation was apparent in his eyes, his face, and his movement. He was slow, as if he dragged along weights with every step he took. The weight of his stress was drawn on his every feature.
      The shady individual was right there; he will not let this opportunity slip. As he darted down the path with his right hand clenched to his steel sword. His unbreakable gaze at the shady individual kept him from noticing the woman walking directly towards him. He collided with the woman, causing him to lose his balance. The hooded man noticed it, and picked up his pace, disappearing into the darkness.
     He swiftly picked himself up, and fixed his eyes onto the woman. “Damn it! All that hard work for naught! Since this is your fault, you will help me track him down!” He said with an irritated tone.
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A Necessary Sacrafice
      @decemberxmorning
      From the outside it looks folksy, snug, and cozy. Stacked stones and sand stone pillars make up most of the building’s outer structure. It’s impossible to see through the closed windows, but the clapping and cheering from within can be felt outside.
      As people enter the tavern through the decorated, wooden door, the music of the bards, the stench of booze, and a feeling of comfort and clapping hands welcomed them. The bartender is buried in orders, but still manages to welcome the customers with a wave. It’s as charming inside as it is on the outside. Wooden beams support the upper floor. The walls are packed with all sorts of travel memorabilia, most likely all collected by the owner.
      The tavern itself is packed. Groups belonging to some kind of organization, whether music or sport, seem to be the primary clientele here, which often leads to exciting evenings. Locals, travelers, foreigners and anybody else who wish to join occupy several long tables. People who are indulging in great food and drinks also occupy the other, smaller tables.
      Diagonal from the door sits a man, who appears as if he is possessed by gluttony. Plates were either scattered throughout the table or stacked upon one another. The man wore a yellow straw hat that had a red band around the circumference of it and an open, long-sleeved red cardigan with four buttons. The man was waiting for someone but had grown hungry waiting, so he decided to have a feast. He believed that she would spot him in the rowdy tavern, for he mentioned in his letter that he wore a straw hat. However, he was too concentrated in his eating, making him unaware of who were near him.
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snarkomancy · 8 years
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(Untitled)
@decemberxmorning
“It is a shame. A crying shame. But there is simply no way that the damage can be undone. She will never be able to cast much of anything, I am afraid. Nothing more complex at least, than those simple signs the witchers use.” Tissaia de Vries sits at the desk, half cloaked in darkness, turning her quill in her hands pensively. “Why are you so invested in this anyway, Philippa? It’s not at all like you to be taking an interest in any of my students. At least, it’s never happened before.”
Philippa taps her fingers on the tabletop, impatiently, then turns her head to look over at the young girl lying on the narrow bed in the corner of the infirmary, seemingly fast asleep, her small pale face tense, haunted but what is likely a fever dream. She lets her gaze rest there, for a moment, in no hurry to respond to Tissaia. After all, both of them know what Philippa is about to say, and they also know that Tissaia will not like the sound of it in the least. She says it regardless.
“There is a way. You know it, and I know it. I am in disbelief, complete and utter disbelief, that you reject the option so fervently. The girl, Joanna or whatever her name is, is the most talented adept that I have come across in a long time. I’m almost inclined to say that her potential nigh matches my own at that age, wouldn’t you agree? Otherwise, why would you have tried to restore her to health in the first place? I can think of many instances when you have expelled students for less. And now you simply decide to leave things unfinished like this, let all that talent, all that potential go to waste, just because you think that your principles are the be all and end all.” Philippa shakes her head, slowly, dramatically. “Cruel, Tissaia. Both cruel and irresponsible.”
“That will be enough, thank you Miss Eilhart.” Tissaia’s tone brooks no insolence. Philippa has always been overbearing, but to challenge her like this, in a matter that does in no way concern her, a matter of the academy, borders on brazen insolence. “And her name is Yennefer.”
“Yennefer, right. Not that it matters much, because it is not like her name will ever go down in the history books now, will it. Unless you choose to act. To do the right thing by her.” Philippa is determined to continue the discussion, to argue things out. I still look up to you, Tissaia, I certainly do, but you would do right to remember that I am no longer your student, and haven’t been so for a long time now. “What happened to progress? What happened to pushing the boundaries? To explore possibilities? All those things that I thought you stood for, that this school stood for?”
Tissaia produces a handkerchief from a pocket, begins to wipe the surface of the desk, carefully ensuring to go left to right, never the other direction. It is more orderly to do it this way. She has to admit that she is taken aback by Philippa’s words, for as much as she dislikes what she hears, she knows there is truth in them.
“What you are suggesting, Philippa, is to utilise a spell from the School of Necromancy. Granted, it has been adapted, but it is and remains unlawful. That is all I am prepared to say on this topic. It is time for you to leave, I have important matters to attend to.”
And one of them is to tell the girl that I cannot help her. Not an easy conversation to have.
“As you wish.” Philippa gives a shrug, her eyes narrow dangerously. “I shall leave, for now. But I assure you that the last word on this matter has not yet been spoken.” She rises, slowly, gracefully, and turns to leave the room without sparing a further glance for her former mentor.
She enters Yennefers mind with ease, slipping into her thoughts like a thief in the night. Never forget, girl. There is always a choice. If you decide to remain like this, broken, forever barred from taking the power that is rightfully yours, there is naught I can do. But if you want your hands made whole, all you need to do is come to me. I shall be waiting.
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It had actually been a normal day in the middle of the week. Ezekiel had made his way from his dormitory at the Academy to his lecture hall, which was at the other end of the campus.
The semester had just begun and so many new faces sat before him: eager for knowledge and still full of life. Ezekiel always smirked slightly at this sight, for the students would soon know what it meant to be challenged at the Academy. Soon they would be bathing in stress, hardly eating and sleeping. But the old vampire had always done his best with everyone and the majority of them left the Academy beaming with joy about their diploma.
He had established the ritual of dining with his new students on one of the campus meadows and thus inquiring about their lives. Year after year the students became younger and it became more and more difficult for Ezekiel to establish a connection with them. 
So that day he was glad to retire to his office in tranquility to work on the pile of papers he had been dragging around the last few days. He was so immersed in his work that his highly sensitive hearing did not even warn him of the hasty steps coming from the stairs in front of his office. All of a sudden his door flew open, so that the humanist even flinched briefly: unusual for a vampire, but he had truly been shocked by the envoy who had now appeared in the room panting.
The small man with the roundish face and an ocher-colored hat decorated with a peacock feather threw a scroll to Ezekiel before he floped himself on the chair in front of his desk, gasping for breath.
" Keep your hair on, my good man," Ezekiel said while breaking the wax seal with sharp fingers and unrolling the letter: "Even if Emperor Emhyr van Emreis and his whole army were standing before Oxenfurt, there would be no reason to rush like this.
He pushed the tray with a water jug and glasses in front of the envoy so he could serve himself.He did not even bother to use a glass, but poured half the jug down his throat. Ezekiel raised his eyebrows, laughed briefly and then turned his attention to the letter, which smelled unusually good. Jasmine? No, lilac. And something sweet and sour: rhubarb? Ah, gooseberries. Lilac and gooseberries? The vampire had connected someone to it once, but through the still heavily breathing envoy he couldn't make out who. 
After the man had calmed his breath, he croaked his first words: "Excuse me, Master. I have ridden through four days, my bottom is truly on fire and I have been stopped at the borders several times. The war doesn't make my job any easier."
"I'm sure your employer is not such a monster that he or she will give you hell."
"Oh, yeah, sir. You don't know her. The letter should have been here two days ago. She'll skin me alive." He poured the rest of the water down and wiped the cold sweat off his brow with his hand.
"I will clear everything up if there is any indisposition. Now go down to the campus tavern . Say I send you and you will get good, nutritious food and a big mug of liquor. Then lie down and rest, I will give you my answer in the morning." Ezekiel made a hand gesture and the envoy disappeared hastily.
Now the dean could concentrate on the content of the letter, which still emitted a pleasant scent:
@decemberxmorning​
Master Ezekiel,
While I am sure correspondence from a stranger can go either way when it comes to welcoming such, I ask you to please, please wait until the end, to decide if this missive is worth your illustrious time.
It has come to my attention in recent times, a number of books, and scholars have been relaying misleading information about a specific topic. That subject being Elder Vampires. As I find such lies abhorrent, I approached a mutual friend, wishing to learn the truth. He believed that his inexperience in certain matters would be of detriment to me, and as such directed me to you. If, you are willing to take the time to lead me towards the truth, I will be indebted to both you, and our friend Regis.
If my luck holds, and you wish to instruct me directly I am would be a most attentive student. Payment for such is entirely left to your discretion. Within reason of course as with all things.
As I feel such things should be discussed personally, and will arrive on the evening of the 23rd. I am unsure if Regis mentioned me, but as I am a Sorceress I feel it prudent to not travel in my usual manner. Instead, I will travel by horse.
Many regards,
Yennefer of Vengerberg
Yennefer of Vengerberg? I knew that the composition of lilac and gooseberries was familiar... 
Ezekiel rolled up the letter again and put his hand on his upper lip, playing thoughtfully with his beard. He had always felt the urge to get to know the famous sorceress - after all, much was told about her, the stories with the witcher Geralt, her power and above all about her beauty. Regis had told a lot about her, at least what Geralt had told him. After all, Regis had sacrificed himself for her at Stygga...
I will be indebted to both you, and our friend Regis. 
Our FRIEND Regis..oh, how Ezekiel loathed it when his former student and lover called him a friend when he told others about him...
He took a deep breath and scratched his head under the wild curls for which he had not yet found time to brush today. It was already afternoon and he felt an urgent need to go for a walk. After a short smell of his body, the vampire pulled a face: You should definitely change your clothes before you go out in public again. 
No sooner said than done. He was always prepared for such situations and for unintentional spills during dinner and took out a new tunic from behind the door. Then he took off the old one, folded the old one and threw it onto his chair. A little bit of fresh perfume, but just as he was about to put on the new shirt, the air smelled of electricity; magic definitely. 
A sinking feeling spread in his stomach, he didn't trust magic, he never had and he never would. Even before he knew what was happening to him, a golden portal opened up in the middle of his office, the power of which stirred up his papers and even made a couple of vials and herb bundles fall out of his cupboard.
He held his hand in front of his face, the portal radiated so much light that he could not recognize the little person that came out of it. A few seconds later it closed and he could finally make out the woman who had just teleported to his office: she was just up to his chest, but the black curls and the scnet were unmistakable...
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I would kill you. ✧ I would physically hurt you. ✧ I would attack you unprovoked. ✧ I would manipulate you. ✧ I dislike you. ✧ You annoy me. ✧ You scare me. ✧ You intimidate me. ✧ I hope I intimidate you. ✧ I pity you. ✧ You disgust me. ✧ I hate you. ✧ I’m indifferent toward you. ✧ I’d like to get to know you better. ✧   I’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ I’d like to be friends with you. ✧  I’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ I’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ You are my friend. ✧ You are my best friend. ✧ You are my mentor. ✧ I look up to you. ✧ I respect you. ✧ You are my hero. ✧ You inspire me. ✧ You are my enemy. ✧ You make me happy. ✧ I want to protect you. ✧ I would fight by your side. ✧ I consider you an equal. ✧ I think you are beneath me. ✧ I think you are above me. ✧ I would lie for you. (Within reason) ✧ I would lie to you. ✧ I would sleep with you. ✧ I would sleep by your side. ✧ I would hug you. ✧ I would kiss you. ✧ You are family to me. ✧ I would die for you. ✧ I would kill for you. (Within reason) ✧ I would trust you with my life. ✧ I would trust you with my most precious belonging. (Wolf Amulet) ✧ I would trust you with a secret. ✧ I would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. (Deidre) ✧ I love you (platonically). ✧ I love you (romantically).
@decemberxmorning​
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thechangingverse · 8 years
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@decemberxmorning
He would’ve had trouble placing her face in time and space if it weren’t for the fact that he had one of master Dandelion’s ballads stuck in his head.
Yennefer of Vengerberg. Of course, he’d seen most of his colleages at least once, but he wasn’t particularly close to most of them. Just some... like poor Karl. He sighed, at least Radovid wasn’t burning them legally anymore. that made him feel the need to at least make sure the few they were left were ok.
“Excuse... lady Yennefer?”
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blxiddgwyn · 8 years
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[ @decemberxmorning is with the Witcher ]
He was miserable. Nothing truly new but it seemed to the Witcher almost everything that day was fouling his mood. Most of it, he was almost certain on this too, was because he had no idea why Yennefer had brought him here. “Can we leave yet?” Geralt eventually asked as he stopped glaring at their surroundings for a moment and turned his gaze on her. The sooner they left the sooner he believed his mood would improve.
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ofrxviaa-blog · 8 years
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Of Snow and Magic ;
@decemberxmorning
The cold mountain air was refreshing, to say the least. It was better than the rain, though at this point, rain would have become snow. But a contract was a contract, and the weather wasn’t an excuse to skimp on it. The mountains of Skellige were probably some of the most monster infested that Geralt had ever seen, thus no surprise that he was to hunt some Harpies that had taken to nesting towards the peak. The rumor was that there was some Leader amongst the creatures, a Harpy bigger, stronger than the rest. Thus the call of for a Witcher. And he had brought along a sorceress to help. Something like this, a little magic wouldn’t hurt. Yennifer had joined him on this expedition, but it seemed as if the people didn’t care for her, still.  They were forced to camp at an abandoned village half a days ride from the nearest locals, Geralt being the only one able to go into town. Yen was surviving by teleporting as she pleased. Geralt refused time and again to go with her, preferring to use the abandoned village as a place to base himself while he tracked. However, a winter storm sprung up from the seas, and the cold mountain air turned water to snow. And it came hard.              “Storm’s brewing...” He muttered to himself, cat eyes turning skyward to watch the cloud roll upon themselves, unable to contain the waters they held. Snow was falling steadily, and getting worse by the moment. Geralt had just gotten supplies from the village below, and now was only a few moments from the house. He spurred Roach to a run, holding the supplies close as the horse dashed up the slope. Getting to one of the abandoned buildings, he let Roach in, and shut the door behind the horse, turning to the fire he had going.                      “Doesn’t look like a good one.                             Might be stuck for awhile.” He was talking to himself, at least. He never had any idea if Yen was there or not, and had simply taken to expecting her, but not looking to see if she was there.
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Muse Dashgames
x𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 001:   THE OUTSIDE.
𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Eskel
𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑: Yellow/Amber
𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 / 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑:  Usually kept short/Brown
𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓:  6’ 2″ - 6′ 4″ (Somewhere around that range)
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄:  Practical, but also a bit fancy for a Witcher, Kaer Morhen’s unintentional fashion plate, just happens to shop at the right places, and knows how to sew.
𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: With that ugly mug? Eyes, most likely. Or his manly muscled, hairy and scarred body, of course. Take your pick.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 002:   THE INSIDE.
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒: The inevitable extinction of Witchers across the ungrateful Continent that hates and fears them, being the last of them.
𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄: Succubi, Fisstech, White Gull, Mahakaman Spirit, Noble ladies, Elven ladies.
𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄: Numerous, though he doesn’t let them all turn him bitter or cynical. Unprofessional Witchers breaking Witcher neutrality by engaging in politics, wars and assassinations, the Lodge of Sorceresses and often most meddling Sorceresses and Mages in general, Witch Hunters, ignorant folk who attack Witchers, nobles indifferent to Witcher’s plight, Lambert, Geralt’s romantic and personal drama some days.
𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄: Same simple one he’s always had, wander the world battling monsters. Patching up Kaer Morhen would be nice too.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 003:   THOUGHTS.
𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏: The plan for the day ahead of him.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓: Princess Deidre Ademeyn, Sabrina Glevissig, Kaer Morhen and all the Witchers who lived there, his life growing up, his job battling monsters and all that entails.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐃: Where all the other Witchers are and what they are up to, or where he is going next.
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐒: Professionalism. Dependability. Stability.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 004:    WHAT’S BETTER ?
𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒: Single, but can do groups, being a more social Witcher than most.
𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃: Respected. Never been loved to his knowledge.
𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈��𝐒: Brains, naturally.
𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒: Dogs, Cats are dicks to him thanks to the Trial of the Grasses. Both the feline sort and the Cat School Witchers.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 005:   DO THEY  …
𝐋𝐈𝐄: Very rarely, and only ever with a worthy reason.
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒: Yes. He knows what he can do and who he is.
𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄: He does, but has never really fully experienced it himself.
𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄: He’s used to being on his own wandering the world, mostly only knowing others he meets short term, but the desire to be with another does strike him at times, being the bachelor of Kaer Morhen.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 006:    HAVE THEY EVER  …
𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄: Fortunately not, leave the plays for Geralt and Dandelion.
𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐒: When offered, to be polite. His toxin absorbing mutant physiology can handle it anyways without any real risk or addiction. Walking chemical factory, with all the potions Witchers down.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐍: Ain’t much fitting in to be had in a Witcher’s life, even if one wanted to, no matter what one changes.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 007:   FAVOURITES.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑: Red and black.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋: Goats, horses, wolves, dogs, etc.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊: The Witcher Codex, assorted bestiaries and monster guides and texts, assorted fairy tales and legends.
𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄: Gwent, assorted childhood games played growing up at Kaer Morhen.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 008:   AGE.
𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄: ?
𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐄: Around the 100 range.
𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁 009:    FINISH THE SENTENCE .
𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄: My job, drinking, Gwent, horse riding, eating, hunting, fishing, sex. The simple things.
𝐈 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋: Mostly content, most of the time.
𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐄: My regrets.
𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒: Vesemir, Coen, Leo, all the Witchers and students lost in the pogrom at Kaer Morhen, Geralt and Lambert off with their Sorceresses or settling down.
𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇: That destiny would give me another chance to make the right decision of raising a Child of Surprise, instead of abandoning my responsibility again. And that all the destroyed Witcher Schools on the Continent were restored, the world recognizing their value, Witchers legalized again in the south where Nilfgaard rules.
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