𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚|| ❝ The only woman that Geralt can say that he had truly loved was Aphrodite,❞
or in which The Witcher's first love is found and is part of his destiny.
━
[𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑳𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑹𝑰𝑽𝑰𝑨]
[STAND ALONE]
The Witcher and all its Franchi...
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In the wooden tavern, all that could be heard was the sound of men's cheers, celebrating over some creature that they may have 'conquered'. Geralt of Rivia was on his way to the small town to be able to sell the recently killed Kikimora, hoping to sell it for some coin.
Though, he was going to be unlucky in that case. He did not want to be in the town, the Witcher caring little for the men in the tavern, and the opinions that follow about his kind.
The options on witchers were simple, they killed monsters for coin, and they are emotionless beings. That was where they were getting their urge to kill monsters, their emotions were not a factor in the case of killing monsters, therefore, Witchers were also classified as monsters.
That was why when Geralt had walked into the tavern, he only came for the money that would come with the Kikimora.
"What will it be?" A heavier set of women asked the Witcher from the other side of the bar.
One of her hand held a worn out and dirty rage and both of her hands also held the edge of the bar. The witchers' eyes were moved towards the woman, and tapped on a paper that showed that someone wanted a Kikimora dead.
"Point me to the Alderman's house," Geralt spoke in his rough voice as he looked at the woman.
The barkeep lifted one of her hands and began to point as she had replied,
"It's down the alley, to the left-"
"Isadora," A man spoke cutting the woman off.
Their eyes met and there was a silence as the pair had exchanged a look before the woman and sighed and back swayed form bar. Effectively ending the conversation between her and the Witcher.
"We don't want your kind here witcher," the man spoke after the woman had left.
"The Alderman, tell me where he is and I'll be on my way," Geralt's deep voice told the barkeep as he repointed and indicated towards the paper on the table.
A bald man stood up scraping his chair and knocking over as he made his way to where the Witcher was standing. His arms puffed out as he was attempting to make himself seem bigger and more intimidating.
There was no use, there was no one who could intimidate Geralt of Rivia anymore.
"You don't give the order around here, you mutant son of a bitch," the new man spoke as he had stood behind the Witcher. The Witcher had looked over his shoulder to the new man, his eyes looked him up and down before turning one again to the barkeep.
"Hear that?"
"Go," The barkeep spoke as if could defeat Geralt in a battle if it were to occur, and survive to tell the tale.
"On your own or at the end of a rope,"
"Your choice," The barkeep added on and told the Witcher. His eyes showcasing the urge to punish the man.
"Not a hard choice," the Witcher shrugged as he started to turn back around the barkeep spoke up again,
"Yeah, fuck that,"
"Kill him with your bared hands if you must," One of the men spoke again.
