He stood up, the weight of his twin blades shifting familiar and comforting. Outside, the Northern Lights danced over the peaks of Whiterun, and a distant, draconic roar echoed through the tundra.
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." skachat mod na skairim na vedmakov
"They say you drink poisons to fight," Hadvar remarked, eyeing the belt of vials at Geralt's waist. He stood up, the weight of his twin