Geralt, gruff and serious, would undoubtedly be embarrassed by her wish, but she can still remember how those yellow eyes of his warmed with pride when she ran the Gauntlet, can almost hear his voice warning or cajoling or soothing her.
"Mm," is a thoughtful noise into her mug. "Yes. Witchers are mutants. The schools took boys – orphans, usually, children with nowhere else to go, or a child surprise – and trained them, but the trick to creating a new witcher lay in secret concotions, potions. The Trial of the Grasses, it was called."
She takes another draught of her ale and sets the mug down. "The potions were dangerous. Only three in ten boys might survive the Trials...but those who did were gifted eyes like a cat to see in the dark, faster reflexes, greater speed, a host of physical gifts, along with the ability to use special potions and oils. And then they were set on the Path to fight the monsters plaguing the Continent.
"But there was a battle, a long time ago, long before I was born, and the recipes for the Trial were lost. So now there are no new witchers, and in fact there are very few left in the world at all."
no subject
Geralt, gruff and serious, would undoubtedly be embarrassed by her wish, but she can still remember how those yellow eyes of his warmed with pride when she ran the Gauntlet, can almost hear his voice warning or cajoling or soothing her.
"Mm," is a thoughtful noise into her mug. "Yes. Witchers are mutants. The schools took boys – orphans, usually, children with nowhere else to go, or a child surprise – and trained them, but the trick to creating a new witcher lay in secret concotions, potions. The Trial of the Grasses, it was called."
She takes another draught of her ale and sets the mug down. "The potions were dangerous. Only three in ten boys might survive the Trials...but those who did were gifted eyes like a cat to see in the dark, faster reflexes, greater speed, a host of physical gifts, along with the ability to use special potions and oils. And then they were set on the Path to fight the monsters plaguing the Continent.
"But there was a battle, a long time ago, long before I was born, and the recipes for the Trial were lost. So now there are no new witchers, and in fact there are very few left in the world at all."