[ His surprise that Maia wasn't painstakingly educated prior to his coronation is genuine, lifts his pale brows on his forehead a little. His interest and intrigue are obvious on his craggy features, but he doesn't follow the line of inquiry, alert eyes following the map of Maia's features as the conversation continued. The corners of Geralt's eyes crinkled, happily; it made him look like a weathered old tomcat. ]
That's right- a monster hunter. In the... least glamorous way you can imagine it. Mostly traveling from village to village, city to city, putting down corpse-eaters and unsettled spirits in the spaces between and making meagre coin on contracts in more settled places to hunt the errant gryphon or cockatrice that's decided people are easier targets than livestock or deer.
Sometimes... worse things.
[ His hand twitched, wanting to reach for the wine again, but he forestalled, mouth twisting as he met Maia's eyes again. He was relaxed back into his chair, and lifted his broad shoulders in an easy shrug. ]
Anyway... I used to hate it. Like most young men, wanted to be finer than I was, wanted to be... remembered, to have a legacy of some kind, to change something, someplace, even someone. But for every person who'd knight you for a bravery? Another will call you a butcher and a blackguard for the same deed.
no subject
[ His surprise that Maia wasn't painstakingly educated prior to his coronation is genuine, lifts his pale brows on his forehead a little. His interest and intrigue are obvious on his craggy features, but he doesn't follow the line of inquiry, alert eyes following the map of Maia's features as the conversation continued. The corners of Geralt's eyes crinkled, happily; it made him look like a weathered old tomcat. ]
That's right- a monster hunter. In the... least glamorous way you can imagine it. Mostly traveling from village to village, city to city, putting down corpse-eaters and unsettled spirits in the spaces between and making meagre coin on contracts in more settled places to hunt the errant gryphon or cockatrice that's decided people are easier targets than livestock or deer.
Sometimes... worse things.
[ His hand twitched, wanting to reach for the wine again, but he forestalled, mouth twisting as he met Maia's eyes again. He was relaxed back into his chair, and lifted his broad shoulders in an easy shrug. ]
Anyway... I used to hate it. Like most young men, wanted to be finer than I was, wanted to be... remembered, to have a legacy of some kind, to change something, someplace, even someone. But for every person who'd knight you for a bravery? Another will call you a butcher and a blackguard for the same deed.