MrDidact

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

@Abefroeman True enough, but I think Milk of the Poppy would have a recognizable taste being well morphine. A better alternative might be sweetsleep.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

@Abefroeman I will say that I am unsure if milk of the poppy would really work that way. I think a sleeping potion would be different.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

@Abefroeman Indeed, it accelerated some of my plans but it falls in line nicely.

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

@BlackSam3091 I'm thinking we should do collabs yeah.

@NecroKnight I think your character can probably pursue either contract, just not for money.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

@DrunkasaurusRex Are you sure? I think there's only a little that's passed since your last post in the Stepstones for you to be caught up on events there. I could fill you in if you need it. But if you really feel like you have to withdraw, that's a shame, but it was good to have you on board. I hope you can join us again in the future sometime.

If you're interested, there's another GoT RP I'm part of that's still in early stages and you might like playing.

The Dance of Dragons - (ASoI&F) (GoT) - [Openly Recruiting]

(Collab with @bloonewb, cheers!)

The Knight and the Magister

The lads had returned to the tavern to retrieve the rest of their comrades and arrived at the Magister's manse in the city as the sun began to set. The band were dressed in their finest, which for the most part, wasn't quite appropriate for the venue they found themselves in. The property was large, dwarfing every other dwelling for miles around, with sprawling grounds. High walls of ornate stone with carvings of myth and legend ran around the manse and there were guards aplenty both on patrol and in the towers at each corner.

Clayton whistled as they approached, "Fancy place. Think they got any whores?"

Jorje nodded, "They almost certainly have a concubine or two at least. And an expansive library, I'm sure."

"Fuck the library, I want some more silver-haired girls. I didn't even get to finish, Artur, you damn bastard."

They approached the gates where some spearmen stood at attention as well as a man in an understated doublet, with a firm yet subservient posture that marked him as a servant of some kind. Likely the Magister's major domo.

He bowed his head to Artur, "Ser Artur, the master awaits you inside. Dinner will be served within the hour and your guest rooms have already been made. In the meantime, he awaits to entertain you in the parlor. Refreshments will be served. Please follow me."

The man turned on his heels and entered, the doors opening to show them a beautiful garden, with a wide variety of exotic blooms from all over the world, as well as several striking marble statues, ornate hedges, and a fountain that depicted the Merling King and his court of mermaids and merknights.

They walked into the manse proper and stepped on white marble floors, passings paintings, suits of armor, heraldy, and all manner of fanciful decorations, many artifacts and trinkets from all over Essos. Above them the ceiling depicted a striking mural of the Old Gods of Valyria cavorting with dragons and all manner of beasts and creatures of legend among the clouds.

Soon they reached a parlor with several large recliners and chairs, more decorations around them. Magister Aurion sat on one such, a hookah on a table before him. A woman as beautiful as she was handsome was dressed in silks, her hair done in silvery braids that caught the light in brilliant flashes. The Magister's wife no doubt. Several other guests of equal refinement and grace were present, likely Aurion's kin, friends, and peers. Slave women in golden collars stood with trays of snacks and wine stood at the ready, while several concubines of various extraction lounged on the recliners with some guests.

Aurion stood, wine glass in hand, "Ah, Ser Artur! Welcome to my humble home. This is my wife, Vaella. Please, come join us. Care for a drink?"

Still, the manse dazzled him. It was as beautiful as an Old Valyrian palace, and possibly far larger. Everything around him appeared so clean and well-kept. The sweeping halls and cavernous rooms whizzed by him, and he felt as if his feet were betraying him, or as if some force of its beauty were manifesting in physical form and pushing him through the rooms, that he may sample all the marvels it had to offer.

Artur accepted a glass of wine from a passing servant, with a quiet word of thanks. The servant acted admirably, quick and efficient, and seemed to be directed by no more than the stern gaze of the Magister. "Magister Aurion, Magistress Vaella, it is beyond kindness that you would allow my crew and I to join you this afternoon. I fear that I am abusing your hospitality."

Aurion shook his head with a congenial smile and Vaella favored the young knight with her own friendly grin, "Perish the thought, Artur. I was already throwing a little gathering, it is only right that I extend that hospitality to the child of the esteemed Lord Jason, not to mention Ser Tyland's nephew. I know your father would have offered the same. Come, sit."

Clayton immediately sat down and pulled a silvery concubine to him as she giggled, and a passing slave even set down a plate of delectables for Clegane, who dug in with gusto. The rest of the men relaxed as well, and Jorje came to join them on one of the couches.

Aurion said, "A Dornish strongwine, a gift from the Prince of Dorne himself. Dark as blood, but far sweeter. A toast, to your father and House Lannister. May the Rogare family and yours always remain friends." Aurion raised his glass, Vaella mirroring the gesture, and all in the hall save the slaves drank.

Once done, Aurion indicated the hookah on the table before him, "A concoction from Slaver's Bay. It helps a man relax. You may try if you so wish, ser."

Artur eyed the strange object that rested on the table. He had never seen anything like it, and he quite doubted its relaxing properties. Occasionally, even as he spoke, the Magister would grab the tip from the device and set it in his mouth. Then, his eyes would go wide, as if he were experiencing wild visions, which if his father was to be believed, he was. Still, to refuse such a distinguished figure, especially now, when their two circles had such tension between them, would not be a good move for himself or for his house. He took the tip from its rope, but hesitated putting it into his mouth. "A toast to my father," he mumbled. The tip seemed as if to glare at him, judging him for this action. "If it pleases you, could you explain what I am to do?" He was stalling for time, and he knew it.

Vaella spoke up, "There is a plant in the east with great euphoric and relaxing properties, though effects vary based on strain and the individual. Do not worry, ser. You should feel nothing more than a great sense of ease and pleasure. Inhaling the smoke is all that's needed."

Clayton spoke up as he nuzzled a concubine, "Just stick with the whores, Artur."

Jorje grabbed one of the tips and said, "I did a few experiments with this substance in the Citadel, I assure you it's completely harmless." He took a puff and the man's face widened into a smile as he laid back for a moment.

Tyran Hill, Artur's bastard cousin by his uncle Tyland, who had abstained from all of the... refreshments so far frowned skeptically, "Up to you Artur. It should be an experience at least."

Artur took a deep breath and steeled himself. "Experience . . . " he sighed, and stuck the tip in his mouth, sucking inwards. It felt as if smoke were running down his throat, burning him and bubbling in his stomach. He coughed, tossing the tip away, and a white steam billowed out of his mouth and nose. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the pain, and that was when the visions began.

Tyran came over to him, a concerned look on the youth's face as he smacked Artur on the back, "Artur, Artur? Are you alright?"

Vaella laughed, "It's alright young Lannister, it's his first time it's likely to have a stronger effect." She paused, "Plus, my husband may have purchased a... unique variety. There may be some... artificial additives that could have an effect on a first time user."

Suddenly Artur saw the paintings and statues around him become animate, living breathing things that became to move and socialize as if they were people. Every sight and sound became enhanced ten fold it seemed, and the clouds of the mural above swirled as if in a storm. Artur saw his brother, Michel sitting on the recliner next to him, drinking wine.

"Always knew you were a lightweight, little brother." He laughed and the visions continued, as Artur saw two dragons battle it out in the sky, the pleasant visions giving way to scenes of battle and chaos, the clouds darkening and thunder and rain lashing out. He was on a boat, sailing to a distant light. To Brightroar. But a massive wave came, overturned his boat, and sent him down to the murky abyss.

Finally the moment passed and Tyran, Clayton, and Jorje all stood over him, Jorje wafting some smelling salts under his nose. Clegane licked his face. Magister Aurion looked concerned, "Are you alright, Artur?"

Artur groaned. His head trobbed and weighed down on his neck. His is belly threatened to burst open with protest. He coughed, and sat up, glaring first at the paintings, which were still, then the recliner, upon which sat no man, and lastly to the sky, which was mercifully covered with a layer of ceiling. "An experience," he gasped, and realized that his heart thumped like a charging horse, and his breath came in rapid heaves. "Indeed. Now I am sure I have overstayed your welcome, Magister."

Clayton scoffed, "Oh one puff and suddenly you're on your arse. Don't be a pansy, they've got girls here, Artur! Girls! And food!"

Aurion frowned sympathetically, "I didn't think it would have such a strong effect on you. Last time, I buy from that Ghiscari bastard for sure. But allow me to make it up to you, Artur. You can rest and relax in your room or perhaps even the sauna, and then we can call you in for dinner. Allow your body to calm. I'm sure you're men would still like to enjoy themselves. I'll even make sure you have the money to refill your ships' provisions. As a gesture of apology."

Clayton nodded enthusiastically at Artur as Tyran helped him sit up.

Vaella rested a soft palm on his hand, "Oh, I'd hate for you to leave, young ser. I was dying to ask you questions about yourself, and your homeland. Please, stay and let us make it up to you."

Artur gingerly pulled his hand away. Lysene women held poison, it seems, most of all upon their tables. The device bubbled merrily away, cackling at its most recent conquest. "We truly must be on our way, isn't that right? Clayton? Tyran? Lys has been an absolute pleasure, but if we become too accustomed to the comfort, then we may never face what Old Valyria has to offer us. I bid you good day." He ended with two quick bows, toward the Magister and his wife, and hastily turned on his heels.

Then suddenly, the young knight felt a sudden feeling of vertigo, nasuea, and then he was expelling the expensive Dornish strongwine all over the immaculate marble floors. The Ghiscari device kept bubbling as yet another side effect manifested in the young Westerosi. There were several shouts of surprise and Clayton just managed to catch Artur before he fell face first into his own vomit.

Darkness took him.

After some time, Artur found himself in a luxurious bed, in a moderately sized room. The curtains had been drawn on the window, but there was no sign of sunlight, with only a candle next to the bed to light the room. There was a platter of fruit, bread, meat, and bread on a counter, next to a pitcher of water. Someone had changed him into smallclothes and left a washbasin next to the bed.

If he listened closely he could hear a buzz of activity somewhere beneath him. Likely the dinner, Aurion had planned. Still in the manse then. There was a pounding headache, and a great sense of thirst.

Artur dragged himself out of the bed, cursing softly. He reached with a sluggish hand to the pitcher, then dumped it over his head, mouth wide open. Water washed down on him, embedding itself in his brown hair and running down his sides. He looked scornfully at the food, considering having a bit, then pushed it out of his mind. He would never be able to keep food down for the rest of his life. with a groan, he pushed himself into something resembling a standing position, and let his gaze fall upon the room. There was clothing in the corner, looking much like his own. He stumbled over and fell upon it, hitting his head on something hard. A sword, the very one on his belt. Something about that gave him a sense of familiarity, a glimmer of the old bravery he had. Without putting anything on, he fumbled the scabbard out of the pile of cloth and pulled out the metal with a satisfying swing. He only had this small chance to reunite with his things before his nerves buzzed, freezing him in his place. A sudden tapping, at the far window, covered by blinds.

There was a soft click, and a form clad in black slithered through the window, crouching down to the floor and turning to close the window softly. They were dressed all in black, with a hood covering their face. A sword was strapped to their back. And then they turned and saw Artur. Froze in place for a moment. Then the sneak pulled a dagger from his belt, drew his sword and lunged at Artur, going for a quick thrust at his throat.

With strength he surely didn't have, Artur jumped off the ground, and with a roar, swung his blade in a clumsy arc at the arm. It, of course, pulled back before the blade could connect. Pressing his tiny advantage, Artur brought the sword around again in an offhand swing, which the figure responded to by ducking back to a reasonable distance. There was going to be blood, right here in this room.

The assassin flicked his wrist, the dagger flying at Artur before he rolled forward and swung at the Lannister, trying to slash at Artur's legs with his sword. The confines of the room were tight, and there was not much room to manuver. Artur had to end this quickly.

Artur stepped back, and felt to his horror his legs give way under him. With a startled yell, he made a desperate gamble that the assassin would take just one more step forward, and lunged out with his sword far as it would go. His shoulder joints protested this, of course, but the gods did not, for with a sickening splat, its tip touched home. The assassin stood in his place for a few seconds, then slowly looked down, most certainly afraid of what he'll see. Blood running down his legs, followed soon after by the hints of innards. He slumped over, clutching at his abdomen in a vain attempt to keep his organs inside. Artur turned away, disgusted by the sight. Swordfighting for him was always about clean cuts, removing heads or arms like his training stands. This was something else.

Artur heard a scratching on the door and once opened he would see Clegane, looking up at the Lannister, barking in alarm. The hound turned and growled and once he stepped into the hall, he would see more black-clad killers, four of them in the hall. A guardsman had had his throat cut, as well as that of a slave woman bearing a tray of food. Two of them saw the hound and the knight and rushed to engage them, blades at the ready while the others turned to try and run off down the hallway towards the stairs. Clegane growled and crouched, leaping into the air and catching one of the assassins at his torso while the other slashed at Artur.

Artur leaped backwards, barely avoiding the slash of the blade. His head landed hard against the doorknob right behind him, and pain flared up throughout his head. The assassin stepped forward menacingly, blade in hand. Is this his fate? To never even see the sword of his ancestors? To die in disrepute in Lys?

By another saving miracle, just as Artur was to meet his gory end, his foe was leapt on from the back. It was Clegane, loyal and fierce, taking a mighty chunk out of the assassin's skull. He trotted over with a low growl, blood leaking out of his open maw. "Good dog!" Artur shouted, giving him a good pat on the head. "Every Lannister should have a Clegane."

Clegane barked happily, blood staining his maw as the other assassin had already had his throat ripped out. There was a clamor from downstairs and Clegane barked again, running down the stairs and leading Artur to the entry hall where the other two assassins were. One of them slashed and stabbed at a quartet of guards, keeping them at bay with his attacks while the other threw open the doors to the estate. The two guards at the door barely had time to turn before two assassins each slit their throats.

Behind them, Artur could see that the grounds of the manse were in disarray, torchlight everywhere as guards clashed with cutthroats. The quartet of assassins attacked the guards in concert and made quick work of them, before darting off for the dining hall, ignoring Artur and Clegane as several more killers ran in to join with them, bringing their numbers to eight.

Artur cursed his throbbing pains. Sword in hand, he rushed after the figures, groaning threats and clutching the back of his head with his off hand. If he had to guess, he'd say they were going for the dining hall, back to the place where the much-hated smoke device sat. Clegane bounded on ahead, growling up a storm and smashing into tables and chairs, bowling them over without slowing in the slightest.

Artur guessed right for the most part. The parlor was in the path of the killers, who advanced to the great dining hall. It was just as ornate as the reception hall, with a large candelebra and an even larger table lined with all manner of fine foods and drinks. The ambience was ruined by the masked assassins. The eight cutthroats jumped at the guards, who were quickly being overwhelmed. Most of the guests ran for the far side of the room.

Jorje ducked beneath the table with a knife and Tyran grabbed a carving knife from the table and put Vaella behind him, while Clayton had picked up a chair and threw it at one of the assassins. Aurion stood from his chair, drawing Truth. Half of the assassins broke off and made for the Magister, swords in hand.

Aurion was in grave danger. Only the best swordfighters could fight multiple men at once, and Aurion, though skilled, did not rank in those esteemed few. Already, he was being pushed back by the relentless attacking of the four assaulters. However, neither of them thought to factor in the near-naked Lannister that had just burst into the room, and their backs were to him. Artur leaped at the nearest, cleaving with his sword and catching one in the back of his neck. He fell over, clutching his throat.

The Magister shot Artur a glance and parried one of the assassins' blades, dancing away from another strike. The Lysene nobleman was quick and graceful, fighting in a unique mixture of the water dancing tradition and Westerosi fencing suited to his weapon. But drink and surprise dulled his reactions, and it was all he could do to avoid or deflect the killers attacks, unable to press the advantage himself. One man turned to face Artur, surprised, and raised his sword to begin clashing with the Lannister, on the defensive as the young knight pressed him back.

"Clayton! Defend the magister!" he shouted, hoping that his voice carried over the din of combat. Unarmored as he was, it was only a matter of time before he suffered a crippling wound. Then, his dream of reaching Valyria would be over. So he did the only thing he thought would give him a chance. He dodged backwards, then turned and ran into the other room. He rounded the corner and waited to strike into his opponent's back as he would run into the room, expecting Artur to have routed.

Clayton nodded and bullcharged one of the assassins in the side, knocking him to the ground and throttling him with his bare hands, as he wrestled away the knife and stabbed him repeteadly in the throat. Aurion, the pressure lessened, dodged under one of his opponent's attacks and then began pressing him back, his strikes landing quicker and with more surety as adrenaline burned away the inebriation. The other assassin followed Artur into the adjoining room, weapons raised as he looked for the young man.

Artur, as planned, waited just by the door. When the assassin came through, Artur thrust his blade into the man's back. Blood ran down his blade, ending at the hilt and dripping off the crossguard. The assassin let out a breath of air and fell forward, never to rise again. Artur turned and reentered the room, sick to his stomach. The three men he killed, the first three men he'd ever killed, was all he could think of. Their lives leaving their bodies replayed themselves over and over in his head, each worse than the last.

Aurion performed a picture-perfect riposte, jabbing his foeman in the shoulder before knocking his sword out of his hand and slashing his leg, sending him to the floor, he stuck the blade at the assassins' throat and said, "Who sent you?! Tell me and I'll make this quick!"

The man only spit at him and Aurion hit him in the head with the pommel, "Slowly then." He turned to his wife, seeing that she was alright then saw Artur stagger in, he sheathed Truth and Tyran came to Artur, holding him steady as Clayton came by to sit him down in a chair. Jorje came out of hiding and examined Artur, "Are you alright my lord? Are you wounded?"

Aurion came over and said, "I owe you my life, Ser Artur. I will do everything I can to repay this debt."

"Now I am well and truly to be gone, magister," Artur said, trying to cover himself up with his hands. He was in front of them all, dressed only in his smallclothes, the wind from the open windows prickling gooseflesh on his skin. "Food and supplies for the ship are all I ask for, truly." He then turned to adress Jorje. "I'm fine, no need to inspect me. Let's just get out of here. I'll be glad when I'm sailing home with Brightroar."

Tyran pulled the tablecloth off of the banquet table, sending most of the dishes crashing and wrapping Artur in it as Clayton passed him some wine, "Crazy bastard. Charging in here, in your smallclothes. That would have been an embarassing way to die."

Aurion smiled, "I can do all that and more. I'll give you some sailors from my own armada to properly crew your ship. Slave-sailors who will follow your commands, and will meet you at the docks. And some sellswords to help you defend against the dangers of the seas. And this." He snapped his fingers and the fastidious major domo arrived with a small chest in his arms. The man opened it and inside was a hefty bag of gold, Aurion said, "Lannisters' aren't the only ones who pay their debts."

"You pursue a worthy goal to restore your family sword. I wish you godspeed Ser." After a moment he whispered in the major domo's ear. After a moment he returned with a few women in tow, Aurion smiled, "To keep you company on the long journey, including one of my favorites." A slender, waifish young girl with bright silver hair and violet eyes came forward. She was probably close to Artur in age, mayhaps a few years younger and smiled at Artur. Aurion said, "Calla. Extensively trained. But untouched. My gift to you, Ser."

Calla curtseyed to Artur as the guards and servants came in to attend to the damage and help square the noble guests away.

"Erm . . . thank you, magister," Artur mumbled. Calla smiled wanly at him, and he turned away, hoping that his cheeks weren't reddening. "Right, let's get going. Clayton, Tyran, our . . . quest isn't going to finish itself." He mentally kicked himself for his idiocy, mentioning Brightroar in front of Aurion. Calla came over to him and enclosed his hand in hers. He pulled away, quietly squeaking.

Calla hid a giggle behind a dainty pale hand and both Clayton and Tyran traded a smirk before the rest of the men gathered and Clayton took the chest of gold in one hand. Jorje brushed himself off as the major domo brought him another chest, "Apothecary and alchemical supplies from the Magister's stores." Jorje smiled in thanks.

Vaella came forward and beamed at the young knight, "Thank you for saving us Ser Artur and coming to Aurion's aid. You'll always have a place here and can rely on us as friends." She kissed him on the cheek and withdrew as Aurion took her hand in his, "Safe travels, Ser Artur. And good luck." It would still be several hours till sunlight.

The company left with their newfound treasures and companions, eventually finding their ship at the docks, the captain from Lannisport coming forward to report to Artur the loading of supplies and the arrival of new crew members. A large cadre of sellswords of every origin stood on the docks, a hardened lot of toughs. A quiet, row of sailors stood next to them, just as diverse and experienced. But they stared down at the ground subserviently. Slaves. Tyran frowned at the sight, "We can't use this kind of labor cousin. It's wrong."

Jorje piped up, "If they are in your employ now, then you have the power to free them Artur. They may feel grateful enough to remain. Though of course, they will then have to be paid wages. But I believe Tyran is right."

Now he was stuck with a decision. Artur had not thought about the implications of Lysene labor, but he realized now that more than half of these sailors were slaves. On the one hand, they would be valuable workers, near tireless and requiring little resources, yet on the other, he would have to return home and face the concequences of the gods and of his peers. Better to be safer.

"Let freedom be their choice," he decided. This felt the right thing to do. "Do not hide the simple truth that we cannot pay them. Don't give them much time, for I want us to be off within six hundred counts. Quickly! Let us be away!"

Jorje spoke several phrases in bastard Valyrian of Lys and the sailors all looked up in surprise, then at each other. They spoke among themselves for several moments and one man came forward to speak. Jorje listened then said, "They say, they will work for us despite the lack of pay for the most part. Food and lodging sufficient for them for now. And they wish to return to Westeros with us to make a new life."

Clayton grunted, "Free labor? Good enough for me."

Tyran nodded and the Captain got to work, getting the men to set sail as the sellswords boarded followed by their own guardsmen. Clegane and Clayton hopped on the boat, followed by Jorje and Tyran said, "I'll keep an eye on those blokes. In case they're supposed to keep an eye on us." Tyran left as well.

Calla came to Artur, looked up at him at his eyes and said in lightly accented common, "And what of me, ser? Am I free now as well? Or not?" The question seemed merely curious, the girl asking it in a seemingly casual tone.

" . . . Yes," he said. The girl looked so innocent, looking up at him with that face. "If you will go, go quickly. We will go to sea very soon." He looked out to the water, gleaming and blue, and tried to will the moment away. He'll be back at sea soon, where he felt sure and in control.

Calla looked down at the ground, then at the sea, silent for a few moments before she turned back to Artur, "I have nowhere else to go. I have never left Lys, but I have also never known freedom. I do not wish to go back to Aurion. And so I will go with you, Ser Artur. On behalf of all the women, I thank you." She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Artur on the cheek, her lips soft and she boarded the ship with the other newly freed women in tow.

Soon, Artur boarded his newly staffed ship and the vessel went underway, striking out onto the Lyseni sea under the full moon, heading for Volantis. Where King Tommen of the Rock had last been seen.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

@Abefroeman Good stuff Abe.

Did Uther survive? Will he regain his home? Find out next time on Game of Thrones.

Game of Thrones : The Pact of Ice and Fire (Always Open)

Just a head's up guys, I will be mostly unavailable for the greater part of the weekend, including Friday. But we will return to my regularly scheduled GMing by monday at the latest. I might be able to drop in a little bit until then but it probably won't be a lot.

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

Kieran

Character Theme – The Lion's Heart
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Kieran

Kieran is of an unremarkable height at just over six feet tall, but has the athletic, muscled build of someone who has been training as a fighter since they were a child. His dark black hair is kept long, reaching to his shoulders and is partly pinned back in a warrior's knot while his face is clean-shaven. Kieran has high, sharp cheekbones and a prominent jawline, an aristocratic look that is spoiled by his bright yellow, catlike eyes. However, he has a relatively smooth if suntanned complexion and is largely unscarred, evidence of his youth and inexperience compared to other Witchers. His most prominent scars are several thin white claw marks that run across the back of his right shoulder, a reminder of his most dangerous slain foe to date, a werewolf.

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【Full Name】
Kieran of Saph

【Alias】
Lord Mutant, the Bastard Bear, Kieran the Knight

【Race】
Human - technically

【Gender】
Male

【Age】
19

【Sexuality】
Heterosexual

【Birth Place】
Unknown

【Nation/Allegiance】
The Lost Bear School

【Profession】
Witcher

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【Personality】
Kieran is not like most Witchers. He may be a hardened killer like every other member of his guild, but he has a hopeful and idealistic outlook that is almost unheard of among fellow monster-hunters. Not only does Kieran believe in his duty and responsibilities as a Witcher, he thinks he can change the world for the better. It is his enduring hope that by comporting himself honestly and honorably, by helping people in need, he can change how the inhabitants of the continent view Witchers. And Kieran is honest and honorable. He avoids lying as much as is possible, never breaks a promise, and always deals with clients fairly. Doing the right thing is very important to Kieran. Of course this doesn't mean he will always follow the law. Kieran will do what he thinks is right and necessary for him to do. His casual disregard for laws that inhibit his job makes him like other Witchers in fact.

Kieran still has somewhat romantic notions of what it means to be a Witcher. He sees his profession as a noble and meaningful calling and finds great satisfaction in a job well done, finding that travelling on the Path is an exciting adventure that allows him to see new places and experience new things. However Kieran is no simple rube, and has an introspective and thoughtful mindset, and he often spend time pondering the way of the world. He can be remarkably perceptive, and is as knowledgeable about alchemy or astronomy as any scholar. His honesty however can make him susceptible to trickery. While not an idiot, Kieran doesn't naturally have the guile and cunning other Witchers might, and those with great experience in manipulating others such as nobles or sorcerers, might find him a pliable target. Kieran may know his way around monsters. But the intricacies of politics or criminal underworlds are areas he has no experience in. He is also clueless about women, and has never been with one, another potential blindspot.

Kieran has a glib tongue and is fond of sarcastic jokes. Unlike other, surlier Witchers, he freely associates with people outside of the caste and enjoys drinking and talking with commoners of all races, with those willing to associate with a Witcher at any rate. Kieran is an inquisitive soul and reads voraciously, always taking the chance to read a new publication or listening to a traveler's stories. He is also fond of music and is a student of mythology, reading on ancient tales and old myths. All of this may be because Kieran never truly had a childhood and grew up in the Lost Bear School and has known nothing else. Now that he is in the wider world, and has a chance to learn so much, he is seizing the opportunity. To this day Kieran still marvels at the beauty of the wider world and yearns to discover as many of its secrets as he can.

Kieran has always felt like something of an outsider, due to the rumors of his noble lineage and his optimism. He had his friends in the school but he clashed with more aggressive, violent brethren. Kieran prefers to use violence as a last resort and vehemently disagrees with Witchers who kill sentient monsters without pursuing other choices. Indeed, Kieran has often let dopplers and trolls and the like go free and unharmed. His friendship with a werewolf is a secret even from his fellows, and one that is highly out of the ordinary. Despite his mutated visage, Kieran is a compassionate soul, and feels great sympathy for fellow outsiders.

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【History】
Kieran remembers nearly nothing about his life before the Witchers, like almost every other member of the guild of monster slayers. The Lost Bear School is the only home he has ever known, as he was given to the Witchers when he was only a babe. His masters never revealed anything about his origins to him, as was their policy, but rumors about Kieran's parentage became widespread. It was whispered among his peers that he was the bastard of a nobleman or knight who had gone off with his men to face a vampire and vanished. Assuming the worst, the man's house hired a veteran Witcher to find the noble's remains and slay the beast. However, the Witcher found the noble in the deep forest, after the vampire slaughtered the rest of his men.

The witcher both slew the vampire and brought the man to safety. On the journey home, the noble asked the Witcher what reward he would have. In addition to gold, the monster slayer invoked the age-old Law of Suprise,
telling the noble that he would take that which the man found at home that he didn't expect. As the story goes, once the noble returned home he learned that a bastard had been left in the belly of one of his wife's handmaidens, his own illicit get. And so Kieran was promised to the Witchers before he had even been born. The story maintains that the Witcher returned after several months to take Kieran to Mossdale Caverns where he was weaned by one of the sorceresses until he was old enough to walk.

Another rumor would have it that the witcher had taken a liking to the handmaiden who would be Kieran's mother and invited her as a guest to Mossdale Caverns. There are varying tales that the woman died in childbirth, which the Witcher mourned, or weaned Kieran for a short while before returning to her household after a lover's spat with the monster slayer. The supposed identities of who this nobleman and handmaiden were run the gamut from several local landed knights to leaders of free cities or even kings, and none know the truth save the veteran witchers, who refuse to either refute or confirm the rumors. The identity of the Witcher in question is also a matter of contention, though most believe it to be one of the school's chief swordsmen and weapons instructors, a personal mentor to Kieran.

Whatever the truth of the matter, Kieran's supposedly noble and bastard-born origins were often a common source of mockery from the crueler and more mean-spirited boys of the school, calling him Lord Mutant or the Bastard Bear. For Kieran, his mysterious and apparently scandalous origins have been both a source of anguish and hope for the young witcher. Some days, he feels as if his parents had abandoned him and that he should be ashamed of his illicit birth. Other days, he takes comfort in his rumored noble origins and dreams of one day finding his family or becoming a heroic knight. The search for his family and his true origins is one that is almost as important to him as his vocation as a Witcher.

Whatever the truth of his parentage, it is undeniable that Kieran was destined to be a Witcher. His first memory is picking up his first stick as a young child and learning the first steps in how to swing a sword. His life since then has been consumed by Witcher training, being one of the youngest to be promised to the guild. His entire childhood, he trained to kill monsters. He learned how to fight in the elegant but deadly dance of the Witcher, how to ride as if he was one with his mount, how to survive in the wild with only his wits, how to track his prey in any environment, how to stalk them silently in the shadows, how to kill a man quickly and brutally, and every other skill a Witcher needed to know. When he wasn't training, he was studying monster lore, herbcraft and alchemy, astronomy, anatomy, and many other subjects relevant to a Witcher's study.

Any free time he had he either spent conversing and playing games with boisterous dwarves, exploring the wilderness or watching the stars with his fellow trainees, or reading about legends and myths from tomes given to him by the sorcerers, dwarves, teachers, and the odd traveler to the caverns. Kieran had his fair share of friends, but he relished the time he could spend alone, reading about the heroic deeds of heroes and knights. Kieran wanted to be like them and so strove the be among the best of the trainees, to become the first hero Witcher. Isolated from the outside world and deprived of a normal childhood, those stories and legends had an immense impact on him.

He struggled to remain friendly and optimistic as Witcher training began to take a toll on his fellow trainees. The physical conditioning and education was grueling enough, and every once in a while a young Witcher would either perish in a training accident or simply expire from the sheer strain of the training, trials that children were not meant to endure. Kieran lost a few friends as such, and the first time he saw a fellow trainee die, he had bawled his eyes out. By the time he lost his sixth friend, he had no tears left. The special diet that the children underwent, unique and rare herbs, mosses, and mushrooms also took their toll on the Witchers. It helped condition their bodies but among many it was simply too much.

Many boys would die of liver or heart failure, and some even succumbed to madness and were given to the sorcerers to perform experiments on for the rest of their lives. Even among those that survived like Kieran, a fair number became excessively aggressive and would often pick fights for little to no reason. A few boys died in sparring matches or were outright murdered over small slights, and Kieran often had to defend himself or others from the enraged trainees. Boys that became too feral and were too much of a threat to others were put down by the Witchers, but otherwise their behavior was overlooked and even encouraged by a few teachers, who saw the aggression as necessary on the monster-infested continent. Often, Kieran considered giving up or trying to run away, but he knew there was no place for him elsewhere and that if he wanted to change things, really change things, he could do so more as a Witcher than a nobody. A bastard with no home.

Finally, came the Trial of Grasses. When the sorcerers fed him the special alchemical substances that would change him permanently into a Witcher. Kieran remembers none of it. Just a confused morass of emotions and sensations, alternating light and darkness, madness and fever induced dreams and hallucinations, and pain, so much pain, pain beyond anything he ever thought possible. It seemed to last forever. On the tenth day, Kieran awoke with golden eyes. Out of the scores of boys that had trained with him, almost a fifth had died beforehand, and now less than a dozen were left.

The training became even more intense, but Kieran adapted. He was stronger now. Faster. More than human. Some part of him was horrified at the journey that had seen him there. But another part relished in the power it had given him. By the time the final Trial of Dreams arrived to cement and strengthen his mutations, Kieran was the best sword of those that remained. At the age of sixteen, Kieran completed his training and was given his Witcher's medallion with his starting equipment and first horse. He chose the name Kieran of Saph, and was made a full Witcher of the Lost Bear School. A slayer of monsters. Then with excitement, he set out on the Path.

For the next few years, Kieran basked in his newfound freedom. He traveled the continent fulfilling contracts, seeing new sights, experiencing new things, and righting the occasional wrong. Most of his stock in trade were nekkers, drowners, and ghouls but he notched his belt with several endrega nests, a few wraiths, some foglets, and even the occasional water hag among others. Kieran befriended many commoners of all vocations across the land, and even parted as friendly acquaintances with a fair number of trolls and dopplers whom he spared instead of putting to the sword. His optimistic, honorable reputation saw him comfortable in contracts, but he knew his limits and didn't pursue jobs best left to more experienced Witchers.

Until, one village put out a call on a werewolf. There had been reports of several rumored werewolf attacks in the area, no deaths, but Kieran wished to put a stop to it before it happened. No other Witcher was available and so Kieran answered the contract and went out to search for the werewolf, hopefully to free it of its curse instead of killing it. He was unaware that the whole thing was simply a scheme cooked up by the conman Fridolf. And the actual werewolf that lived as a huntsman on the edge of the village was unaware that Kieran hoped to save him from his curse. The werewolf attacked Kieran in the woods in the dead of night. The young Witcher would have died if not for his own keen senses and Storm's quick action, galloping into escape.

The werewolf pursued. Knowing that he couldn't let the cursed beast run amok, Kieran leaped from the saddle to do battle with his opponent. The fight was long, vicious, and brutal. The toughest fight of Kieran's life, as he always just managed to stay away from the werewolf's rending claws and gnashing teeth. The beast grazed his shoulder and left thin, shallow wounds on his shoulder but eventually Kieran triumphed and slew the werewolf, sorrow in his heart for the waste of life. Kieran returned to the village, only to learn of Fridolf's own wolf curse. Not wanting any more death, Kieran relinquished the reward for the werewolf contract in order to spare Fridolf's life and vowed to help the man break his curse. They went to find the reclusive woods witch who was the dead werewolf's wife and the one who cursed Fridolf, but she was long vanished.

Kieran did not want to risk the Witchers in Mossdale Cavern killing Fridolf should Kieran bring him to seek aid from the sorcerers. And so the two have traveled on the road together for several months, seeking out wise men, druids, alchemists and sundry practitioners to break Fridolf from his curse, all to little avail. In the meantime Kieran has aided Fridolf in keeping away from humans during the change and controlling it as much as possible so that he does not run berserk. He has also, vainly so far, tried to get Fridolf to change his conman ways. In return Fridolf has drank with him, played dice and cards, traded stories, and the two are becoming fast friends, though some might think Kieran more honest in the relationship than Fridolf.

On the road, Kieran heard news of a Witcher's death, one of his trainers, and a string of brutal attacks in the city of Telchar perpetrated by some beast. Kieran had never been to the city, but knew of its ugly reputation. And yet, he felt it was his duty to stop the beast from killing more and to perhaps even seek justice for his compatriots death. Perhaps in the city, he could even find an answer for Fridolf's curse. And so, Kieran obtained a glamour to hide his eyes from a wise woman and persuaded the apprehensive Fridolf to accompany him to the city of Telchar, to slay a beast and save lives.


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【Skills and Abilities】
- Due to his Witcher training, Kieran has an expert knowledge of herbs and plants and their properties. He is able to identify any plant and their uses almost immediately. He is also a competent alchemist and is well-rehearsed in quickly concocting standard potions, oils, and bombs. Higher-quality or rarer creations require a greater investment of time, effort, and concentration along with a formula. Nonetheless, like any Witcher, given enough time to prepare, he can come up with an alchemical tool to help him face any beast. As an unintended side effect of this training, Kieran could also theoretically create potions that would be toxic to any human or member of the old races, but he has never tried to do so.

- Kieran was also taught extensive survival techniques. He knows various ways to start a fire even without magic and is a competent fisherman, though he can easily catch fish with his hands. Kieran is also knowledgeable about hunting and can create all manner of traps and snares for game and monsters both. He knows how to navigate even without a map, using his surroundings as a guide and can easily erect or find shelter in any environment he is likely to encounter. Like any Witcher on the Path, left to his own devices and with at least rudimentary supplies, Kieran could survive by himself for weeks or even months living off of the land, not that he would want to.

- Kieran is a skilled rider, having trained at riding horses since a young age. He is not quite a racing competitor or exhibition rider, but on Storm he can ride as swiftly and surely as any knight. Storm is a faithful mount that won't hesitate to give a steel-shod kick to a bandit or cutthroat that threatens Kieran. And while she is not without fear, she is conditioned to not panic nearly as quickly as other horses would in the presence of monsters and will charge gamely at almost any threat if Kieran commands. She is often able to recognize the scent or sound of a number of beasts and has more situational awareness than the average horse. Storm was also trained to realize when a monster was too great of a danger to her and she is smart enough to withdraw and let Kieran deal with the beast if the situation calls for it. All of this is because just like Kieran, Storm was trained since a young age to be a monster hunter.

- As is expected of him, Kieran has a thorough understanding of monsters, their capabilities, and their weaknesses. With his mutated senses and extensive training, Kieran can easily identify any commonly encountered beast on the continent by the traces and tracks they leave behind. Kieran does research as much as is possible to learn as much about detecting, tracking, and defeating monsters as he can. He is not as experienced as older veteran Witchers, and has mostly engaged nekkers, drowners, ghouls, and various sundry common predators. His most dangerous foe to date was a werewolf in hiding, but he knows the theory behind defeating even more deadly foes such as old wraiths or katakans and is confident he could those kinds of beasts down. Hypothetically, he also knows how one is supposed to fight a Bruxa or Fiend and other rare, daunting monsters, but Kieran has until now left those more dangerous contracts to more experienced Witchers. If Kieran encounters signs of a creature he cannot readily identify, he will pursue every clue and every scrap of written knowledge he can find to make identify the culprit and prepare counter-measures.

- Kieran was taught the anatomy of humans and nonhumans as well as a wide variety of animals and monsters since the start of his training. As a result he is knowledgeable about the biology of numerous living organisms and can quickly recognize what manner of trauma a deceased may have suffered in the aftermath of an attack. He can also accurately diagnose most common injuries and sicknesses because of this. Coupled with his grasp of herbs, Kieran has basic survival medicine skills and can patch up a variety of minor wounds or stabilize a patient but he is no medic or doctor. His true skill is in causing wounds. For any human or nonhuman, as well as common animals and monsters, Kieran knows exactly how and where to strike to inflict the most damage in the most efficient way possible.

- Kieran, like all Witchers, is light on his feet and knows how to move quickly and quietly. He can see in the dark where most cannot, and if he puts effort to it, he can hide from almost any mortal in the right environment and sneak around them without leaving a trace. His steps are almost completely silent, and he can nearly break out into a run while causing a minimum of noise. Kieran can move quietly enough to surprise inattentive or less aware monsters as well. Even beasts with enhanced senses to match his would have at least a little trouble hearing or seeing his approach. But of course, Kieran could not sneak up on a truly cunning or experienced beast without quite a bit of effort. If he knew how to pick pockets and pick locks, he would have been quite the thief.

- Like all Witchers, Kieran has the ability to with intense concentration, let all of his worldly concerns and thoughts slip away and enter into a meditative state. He can meditate for hours on end, a useful skill if one must lie in wait for a monster but cannot risk taking a rest. Kieran also meditates if he needs to calm his mind after a particularly stressful event. In this state he is still aware of his surroundings however, and only the most clever or skilled warriors or monsters could catch him by surprise during his meditation, as his superhuman senses are still active. Kieran's mental focus and fortitude also mean that he has much more endurance than normal men and can undergo grueling treatment or conditions that would break an average person, even without his mutations.

- Kieran is adept with basic witcher signs. He can use Aard, Igni, Yrden, Quen, Axii, and Somne, like any Witcher. With Aard, he can push enemies away with a moderately strong telekinetic blast, focused in one direction. It can also be used to clear obstacles. Igni, he uses to light fires and throw a narrow gust of flame at his foes. Yrden is a magical trap he uses to slow his enemies down and control large groups of them. Kieran can cast Quen to form a shield that absorbs damage until drained. With Axii he can confuse and disorient enemies. The Somne sign can be used to make targets feel drowsy and go to sleep. There is a seventh sign, Heliotrop, but Kieran is not advanced enough in his magic to use it. In addition, signs are a remarkably easy form of magic compared to others but Kieran is not yet experienced or skilled enough in his magic to use the basic signs to greater effect like other Witchers do. And while his medallion alerts him to the presence of magic, and he is competent with arcane theory, he has only theoretical experience with performing powerful exorcisms and rituals like his veteran brethren and only knows hypothetical techniques or small-scale workings. When it comes to magic, he has much to learn.

- His true talent lies in fighting. Kieran is competent with all manner of weapons, is skilled in hand to hand combat, and is an avid knife thrower. But he has a natural aptitude for swordsmanship. Like all Witchers, he is functionally ambidextrous and was extensively trained in the signature, almost dancer-like style of the Witchers. Kieran trained with a sword since he could hold one and he is capable of moves that are almost physically impossible for normal men. In combat he is quick and acrobatic, whirling and rolling and lunging like the inhuman warrior he is. Kieran can capably handle himself against small groups of amateur opponents and can face off with ease against weaker monsters. He hasn't yet crossed swords with a truly skilled mortal fighter, but he considers himself to be a match for any mortal warrior on the continent.

- Kieran's Witcher mutations are incredibly potent giving him physical abilities beyond any normal man. His catlike eyes can be constricted to see in blinding light or dilated to see in near pitch darkness. All of his other senses are superhumanly keen as well, allowing him to track men and beasts as well as any animal. He has far greater stamina than the average man and can keep fighting long past the point where others would collapse. He is also highly resistant to toxins and disease and has complete immunity in most cases save for the most potent of poisons. With his tougher bones and muscles, Kieran is also stronger than a normal human, and can land blows with his sword that can cut a man clean in two. Kieran can shrug off injuries that would lay most low, and survive strikes that would kill any mere man. He can also heal and recover from injuries far quicker. Kieran is faster, more agile, and has quicker reflexes than normal men and can perform feats of dexterity and speed that most besides monsters cannot hope to match. Finally, Kieran has prolonged youth and a much longer lifespan than any normal human. He will look like a young man for decades yet, and may even live to be centuries old. All of this together means that he can face a multitude of monsters in single combat, though he still has much to learn. His mutations do not come without side effects either. Kieran's emotional responses are not wiped entirely but they are dampened, and his mutations make him sterile and never able to sire children, a fact that sometimes nags on Kieran.

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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Weapons/Tools/Armour
- Two longswords, one of steel and one of silver, strapped to his back. Both are of standard make, given to Kieran when he first became a Witcher.

- His horse, a loyal, trained grey coated young mare named Storm, whom he trained with as a pony and the horse he first started on the Path with. Not a thoroughbred mount but a dependable one.

- Saddlebags filled with basic medical supplies, bedroll, tinder box, torch, a bundle of rope, provisions, and other essential outdoor survival items.

- A field alchemical mixing and brewing set to create the potions, bombs, and oils necessary for his trade.

- A whetstone to hone his blades and an oil and rag to keep them clean.

- An unadorned, dark set of leather and mail armor that is neither master quality nor shoddily made, that both allows some protection from blades or claws as well as freedom of movement. Comes with black boots and black fingerless gloves. A standard set of armor made for him when he first became a Witcher and has used since.

- A dark, heavy travelling cloak for incognito travel or protection against the elements when needed and which can also be used as a blanket. He also has a thin cloth black scarf that can be wrapped around his neck or pulled over his head in a hood for when he needs to be disguised but also must have quick access to his weapons.

- A small one-handed crossbow with standard bolts, used for both hunting and combat.

- A sharp, but common hunting knife and hook to make trophies of his kills for his clients.

- A dirk at his belt, a holdout stiletto in his boot, and several throwing knives. All plain but competently crafted steel.

- Kieran always keeps at least two Swallow potions and two Samum bombs on his belt at all times.

- A journal in which he records his notes and personal experiences. He also keeps a map of the continent, a copy of a monster codex and a book of legends and folk tales.
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【Other】
Dialogue color: Gold.

Across the Great Sea - A Witcher RP (OPEN / STILL IN INTRO STAGE)

A wild witcher appears.

Kieran

Character Theme – The Lion's Heart
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Kieran

Kieran is of an unremarkable height at just over six feet tall, but has the athletic, muscled build of someone who has been training as a fighter since they were a child. His dark black hair is kept long, reaching to his shoulders and is partly pinned back in a warrior's knot while his face is clean-shaven. Kieran has high, sharp cheekbones and a prominent jawline, an aristocratic look that is spoiled by his bright yellow, catlike eyes. However, he has a relatively smooth if suntanned complexion and is largely unscarred, evidence of his youth and inexperience compared to other Witchers. His most prominent scars are several thin white claw marks that run across the back of his right shoulder, a reminder of his most dangerous slain foe to date, a werewolf.

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【Full Name】
Kieran of Saph

【Alias】
Lord Mutant, the Bastard Bear, Kieran the Knight

【Race】
Human - technically

【Gender】
Male

【Age】
19

【Sexuality】
Heterosexual

【Birth Place】
Unknown

【Nation/Allegiance】
The Lost Bear School

【Profession】
Witcher

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【Personality】
Kieran is not like most Witchers. He may be a hardened killer like every other member of his guild, but he has a hopeful and idealistic outlook that is almost unheard of among fellow monster-hunters. Not only does Kieran believe in his duty and responsibilities as a Witcher, he thinks he can change the world for the better. It is his enduring hope that by comporting himself honestly and honorably, by helping people in need, he can change how the inhabitants of the continent view Witchers. And Kieran is honest and honorable. He avoids lying as much as is possible, never breaks a promise, and always deals with clients fairly. Doing the right thing is very important to Kieran. Of course this doesn't mean he will always follow the law. Kieran will do what he thinks is right and necessary for him to do. His casual disregard for laws that inhibit his job makes him like other Witchers in fact.

Kieran still has somewhat romantic notions of what it means to be a Witcher. He sees his profession as a noble and meaningful calling and finds great satisfaction in a job well done, finding that travelling on the Path is an exciting adventure that allows him to see new places and experience new things. However Kieran is no simple rube, and has an introspective and thoughtful mindset, and he often spend time pondering the way of the world. He can be remarkably perceptive, and is as knowledgeable about alchemy or astronomy as any scholar. His honesty however can make him susceptible to trickery. While not an idiot, Kieran doesn't naturally have the guile and cunning other Witchers might, and those with great experience in manipulating others such as nobles or sorcerers, might find him a pliable target. Kieran may know his way around monsters. But the intricacies of politics or criminal underworlds are areas he has no experience in. He is also clueless about women, and has never been with one, another potential blindspot.

Kieran has a glib tongue and is fond of sarcastic jokes. Unlike other, surlier Witchers, he freely associates with people outside of the caste and enjoys drinking and talking with commoners of all races, with those willing to associate with a Witcher at any rate. Kieran is an inquisitive soul and reads voraciously, always taking the chance to read a new publication or listening to a traveler's stories. He is also fond of music and is a student of mythology, reading on ancient tales and old myths. All of this may be because Kieran never truly had a childhood and grew up in the Lost Bear School and has known nothing else. Now that he is in the wider world, and has a chance to learn so much, he is seizing the opportunity. To this day Kieran still marvels at the beauty of the wider world and yearns to discover as many of its secrets as he can.

Kieran has always felt like something of an outsider, due to the rumors of his noble lineage and his optimism. He had his friends in the school but he clashed with more aggressive, violent brethren. Kieran prefers to use violence as a last resort and vehemently disagrees with Witchers who kill sentient monsters without pursuing other choices. Indeed, Kieran has often let dopplers and trolls and the like go free and unharmed. His friendship with a werewolf is a secret even from his fellows, and one that is highly out of the ordinary. Despite his mutated visage, Kieran is a compassionate soul, and feels great sympathy for fellow outsiders.

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【History】
Kieran remembers nearly nothing about his life before the Witchers, like almost every other member of the guild of monster slayers. The Lost Bear School is the only home he has ever known, as he was given to the Witchers when he was only a babe. His masters never revealed anything about his origins to him, as was their policy, but rumors about Kieran's parentage became widespread. It was whispered among his peers that he was the bastard of a nobleman or knight who had gone off with his men to face a vampire and vanished. Assuming the worst, the man's house hired a veteran Witcher to find the noble's remains and slay the beast. However, the Witcher found the noble in the deep forest, after the vampire slaughtered the rest of his men.

The witcher both slew the vampire and brought the man to safety. On the journey home, the noble asked the Witcher what reward he would have. In addition to gold, the monster slayer invoked the age-old Law of Suprise,
telling the noble that he would take that which the man found at home that he didn't expect. As the story goes, once the noble returned home he learned that a bastard had been left in the belly of one of his wife's handmaidens, his own illicit get. And so Kieran was promised to the Witchers before he had even been born. The story maintains that the Witcher returned after several months to take Kieran to Mossdale Caverns where he was weaned by one of the sorceresses until he was old enough to walk.

Another rumor would have it that the witcher had taken a liking to the handmaiden who would be Kieran's mother and invited her as a guest to Mossdale Caverns. There are varying tales that the woman died in childbirth, which the Witcher mourned, or weaned Kieran for a short while before returning to her household after a lover's spat with the monster slayer. The supposed identities of who this nobleman and handmaiden were run the gamut from several local landed knights to leaders of free cities or even kings, and none know the truth save the veteran witchers, who refuse to either refute or confirm the rumors. The identity of the Witcher in question is also a matter of contention, though most believe it to be one of the school's chief swordsmen and weapons instructors, a personal mentor to Kieran.

Whatever the truth of the matter, Kieran's supposedly noble and bastard-born origins were often a common source of mockery from the crueler and more mean-spirited boys of the school, calling him Lord Mutant or the Bastard Bear. For Kieran, his mysterious and apparently scandalous origins have been both a source of anguish and hope for the young witcher. Some days, he feels as if his parents had abandoned him and that he should be ashamed of his illicit birth. Other days, he takes comfort in his rumored noble origins and dreams of one day finding his family or becoming a heroic knight. The search for his family and his true origins is one that is almost as important to him as his vocation as a Witcher.

Whatever the truth of his parentage, it is undeniable that Kieran was destined to be a Witcher. His first memory is picking up his first stick as a young child and learning the first steps in how to swing a sword. His life since then has been consumed by Witcher training, being one of the youngest to be promised to the guild. His entire childhood, he trained to kill monsters. He learned how to fight in the elegant but deadly dance of the Witcher, how to ride as if he was one with his mount, how to survive in the wild with only his wits, how to track his prey in any environment, how to stalk them silently in the shadows, how to kill a man quickly and brutally, and every other skill a Witcher needed to know. When he wasn't training, he was studying monster lore, herbcraft and alchemy, astronomy, anatomy, and many other subjects relevant to a Witcher's study.

Any free time he had he either spent conversing and playing games with boisterous dwarves, exploring the wilderness or watching the stars with his fellow trainees, or reading about legends and myths from tomes given to him by the sorcerers, dwarves, teachers, and the odd traveler to the caverns. Kieran had his fair share of friends, but he relished the time he could spend alone, reading about the heroic deeds of heroes and knights. Kieran wanted to be like them and so strove the be among the best of the trainees, to become the first hero Witcher. Isolated from the outside world and deprived of a normal childhood, those stories and legends had an immense impact on him.

He struggled to remain friendly and optimistic as Witcher training began to take a toll on his fellow trainees. The physical conditioning and education was grueling enough, and every once in a while a young Witcher would either perish in a training accident or simply expire from the sheer strain of the training, trials that children were not meant to endure. Kieran lost a few friends as such, and the first time he saw a fellow trainee die, he had bawled his eyes out. By the time he lost his sixth friend, he had no tears left. The special diet that the children underwent, unique and rare herbs, mosses, and mushrooms also took their toll on the Witchers. It helped condition their bodies but among many it was simply too much.

Many boys would die of liver or heart failure, and some even succumbed to madness and were given to the sorcerers to perform experiments on for the rest of their lives. Even among those that survived like Kieran, a fair number became excessively aggressive and would often pick fights for little to no reason. A few boys died in sparring matches or were outright murdered over small slights, and Kieran often had to defend himself or others from the enraged trainees. Boys that became too feral and were too much of a threat to others were put down by the Witchers, but otherwise their behavior was overlooked and even encouraged by a few teachers, who saw the aggression as necessary on the monster-infested continent. Often, Kieran considered giving up or trying to run away, but he knew there was no place for him elsewhere and that if he wanted to change things, really change things, he could do so more as a Witcher than a nobody. A bastard with no home.

Finally, came the Trial of Grasses. When the sorcerers fed him the special alchemical substances that would change him permanently into a Witcher. Kieran remembers none of it. Just a confused morass of emotions and sensations, alternating light and darkness, madness and fever induced dreams and hallucinations, and pain, so much pain, pain beyond anything he ever thought possible. It seemed to last forever. On the tenth day, Kieran awoke with golden eyes. Out of the scores of boys that had trained with him, almost a fifth had died beforehand, and now less than a dozen were left.

The training became even more intense, but Kieran adapted. He was stronger now. Faster. More than human. Some part of him was horrified at the journey that had seen him there. But another part relished in the power it had given him. By the time the final Trial of Dreams arrived to cement and strengthen his mutations, Kieran was the best sword of those that remained. At the age of sixteen, Kieran completed his training and was given his Witcher's medallion with his starting equipment and first horse. He chose the name Kieran of Saph, and was made a full Witcher of the Lost Bear School. A slayer of monsters. Then with excitement, he set out on the Path.

For the next few years, Kieran basked in his newfound freedom. He traveled the continent fulfilling contracts, seeing new sights, experiencing new things, and righting the occasional wrong. Most of his stock in trade were nekkers, drowners, and ghouls but he notched his belt with several endrega nests, a few wraiths, some foglets, and even the occasional water hag among others. Kieran befriended many commoners of all vocations across the land, and even parted as friendly acquaintances with a fair number of trolls and dopplers whom he spared instead of putting to the sword. His optimistic, honorable reputation saw him comfortable in contracts, but he knew his limits and didn't pursue jobs best left to more experienced Witchers.

Until, one village put out a call on a werewolf. There had been reports of several rumored werewolf attacks in the area, no deaths, but Kieran wished to put a stop to it before it happened. No other Witcher was available and so Kieran answered the contract and went out to search for the werewolf, hopefully to free it of its curse instead of killing it. He was unaware that the whole thing was simply a scheme cooked up by the conman Fridolf. And the actual werewolf that lived as a huntsman on the edge of the village was unaware that Kieran hoped to save him from his curse. The werewolf attacked Kieran in the woods in the dead of night. The young Witcher would have died if not for his own keen senses and Storm's quick action, galloping into escape.

The werewolf pursued. Knowing that he couldn't let the cursed beast run amok, Kieran leaped from the saddle to do battle with his opponent. The fight was long, vicious, and brutal. The toughest fight of Kieran's life, as he always just managed to stay away from the werewolf's rending claws and gnashing teeth. The beast grazed his shoulder and left thin, shallow wounds on his shoulder but eventually Kieran triumphed and slew the werewolf, sorrow in his heart for the waste of life. Kieran returned to the village, only to learn of Fridolf's own wolf curse. Not wanting any more death, Kieran relinquished the reward for the werewolf contract in order to spare Fridolf's life and vowed to help the man break his curse. They went to find the reclusive woods witch who was the dead werewolf's wife and the one who cursed Fridolf, but she was long vanished.

Kieran did not want to risk the Witchers in Mossdale Cavern killing Fridolf should Kieran bring him to seek aid from the sorcerers. And so the two have traveled on the road together for several months, seeking out wise men, druids, alchemists and sundry practitioners to break Fridolf from his curse, all to little avail. In the meantime Kieran has aided Fridolf in keeping away from humans during the change and controlling it as much as possible so that he does not run berserk. He has also, vainly so far, tried to get Fridolf to change his conman ways. In return Fridolf has drank with him, played dice and cards, traded stories, and the two are becoming fast friends, though some might think Kieran more honest in the relationship than Fridolf.

On the road, Kieran heard news of a Witcher's death, one of his trainers, and a string of brutal attacks in the city of Telchar perpetrated by some beast. Kieran had never been to the city, but knew of its ugly reputation. And yet, he felt it was his duty to stop the beast from killing more and to perhaps even seek justice for his compatriots death. Perhaps in the city, he could even find an answer for Fridolf's curse. And so, Kieran obtained a glamour to hide his eyes from a wise woman and persuaded the apprehensive Fridolf to accompany him to the city of Telchar, to slay a beast and save lives.

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【Skills and Abilities】
- Due to his Witcher training, Kieran has an expert knowledge of herbs and plants and their properties. He is able to identify any plant and their uses almost immediately. He is also a competent alchemist and is well-rehearsed in quickly concocting standard potions, oils, and bombs. Higher-quality or rarer creations require a greater investment of time, effort, and concentration along with a formula. Nonetheless, like any Witcher, given enough time to prepare, he can come up with an alchemical tool to help him face any beast. As an unintended side effect of this training, Kieran could also theoretically create potions that would be toxic to any human or member of the old races, but he has never tried to do so.

- Kieran was also taught extensive survival techniques. He knows various ways to start a fire even without magic and is a competent fisherman, though he can easily catch fish with his hands. Kieran is also knowledgeable about hunting and can create all manner of traps and snares for game and monsters both. He knows how to navigate even without a map, using his surroundings as a guide and can easily erect or find shelter in any environment he is likely to encounter. Like any Witcher on the Path, left to his own devices and with at least rudimentary supplies, Kieran could survive by himself for weeks or even months living off of the land, not that he would want to.

- Kieran is a skilled rider, having trained at riding horses since a young age. He is not quite a racing competitor or exhibition rider, but on Storm he can ride as swiftly and surely as any knight. Storm is a faithful mount that won't hesitate to give a steel-shod kick to a bandit or cutthroat that threatens Kieran. And while she is not without fear, she is conditioned to not panic nearly as quickly as other horses would in the presence of monsters and will charge gamely at almost any threat if Kieran commands. She is often able to recognize the scent or sound of a number of beasts and has more situational awareness than the average horse. Storm was also trained to realize when a monster was too great of a danger to her and she is smart enough to withdraw and let Kieran deal with the beast if the situation calls for it. All of this is because just like Kieran, Storm was trained since a young age to be a monster hunter.

- As is expected of him, Kieran has a thorough understanding of monsters, their capabilities, and their weaknesses. With his mutated senses and extensive training, Kieran can easily identify any commonly encountered beast on the continent by the traces and tracks they leave behind. Kieran does research as much as is possible to learn as much about detecting, tracking, and defeating monsters as he can. He is not as experienced as older veteran Witchers, and has mostly engaged nekkers, drowners, ghouls, and various sundry common predators. His most dangerous foe to date was a werewolf in hiding, but he knows the theory behind defeating even more deadly foes such as old wraiths or katakans and is confident he could those kinds of beasts down. Hypothetically, he also knows how one is supposed to fight a Bruxa or Fiend and other rare, daunting monsters, but Kieran has until now left those more dangerous contracts to more experienced Witchers. If Kieran encounters signs of a creature he cannot readily identify, he will pursue every clue and every scrap of written knowledge he can find to make identify the culprit and prepare counter-measures.

- Kieran was taught the anatomy of humans and nonhumans as well as a wide variety of animals and monsters since the start of his training. As a result he is knowledgeable about the biology of numerous living organisms and can quickly recognize what manner of trauma a deceased may have suffered in the aftermath of an attack. He can also accurately diagnose most common injuries and sicknesses because of this. Coupled with his grasp of herbs, Kieran has basic survival medicine skills and can patch up a variety of minor wounds or stabilize a patient but he is no medic or doctor. His true skill is in causing wounds. For any human or nonhuman, as well as common animals and monsters, Kieran knows exactly how and where to strike to inflict the most damage in the most efficient way possible.

- Kieran, like all Witchers, is light on his feet and knows how to move quickly and quietly. He can see in the dark where most cannot, and if he puts effort to it, he can hide from almost any mortal in the right environment and sneak around them without leaving a trace. His steps are almost completely silent, and he can nearly break out into a run while causing a minimum of noise. Kieran can move quietly enough to surprise inattentive or less aware monsters as well. Even beasts with enhanced senses to match his would have at least a little trouble hearing or seeing his approach. But of course, Kieran could not sneak up on a truly cunning or experienced beast without quite a bit of effort. If he knew how to pick pockets and pick locks, he would have been quite the thief.

- Like all Witchers, Kieran has the ability to with intense concentration, let all of his worldly concerns and thoughts slip away and enter into a meditative state. He can meditate for hours on end, a useful skill if one must lie in wait for a monster but cannot risk taking a rest. Kieran also meditates if he needs to calm his mind after a particularly stressful event. In this state he is still aware of his surroundings however, and only the most clever or skilled warriors or monsters could catch him by surprise during his meditation, as his superhuman senses are still active. Kieran's mental focus and fortitude also mean that he has much more endurance than normal men and can undergo grueling treatment or conditions that would break an average person, even without his mutations.

- Kieran is adept with basic witcher signs. He can use Aard, Igni, Yrden, Quen, Axii, and Somne, like any Witcher. With Aard, he can push enemies away with a moderately strong telekinetic blast, focused in one direction. It can also be used to clear obstacles. Igni, he uses to light fires and throw a narrow gust of flame at his foes. Yrden is a magical trap he uses to slow his enemies down and control large groups of them. Kieran can cast Quen to form a shield that absorbs damage until drained. With Axii he can confuse and disorient enemies. The Somne sign can be used to make targets feel drowsy and go to sleep. There is a seventh sign, Heliotrop, but Kieran is not advanced enough in his magic to use it. In addition, signs are a remarkably easy form of magic compared to others but Kieran is not yet experienced or skilled enough in his magic to use the basic signs to greater effect like other Witchers do. And while his medallion alerts him to the presence of magic, and he is competent with arcane theory, he has only theoretical experience with performing powerful exorcisms and rituals like his veteran brethren and only knows hypothetical techniques or small-scale workings. When it comes to magic, he has much to learn.

- His true talent lies in fighting. Kieran is competent with all manner of weapons, is skilled in hand to hand combat, and is an avid knife thrower. But he has a natural aptitude for swordsmanship. Like all Witchers, he is functionally ambidextrous and was extensively trained in the signature, almost dancer-like style of the Witchers. Kieran trained with a sword since he could hold one and he is capable of moves that are almost physically impossible for normal men. In combat he is quick and acrobatic, whirling and rolling and lunging like the inhuman warrior he is. Kieran can capably handle himself against small groups of amateur opponents and can face off with ease against weaker monsters. He hasn't yet crossed swords with a truly skilled mortal fighter, but he considers himself to be a match for any mortal warrior on the continent.

- Kieran's Witcher mutations are incredibly potent giving him physical abilities beyond any normal man. His catlike eyes can be constricted to see in blinding light or dilated to see in near pitch darkness. All of his other senses are superhumanly keen as well, allowing him to track men and beasts as well as any animal. He has far greater stamina than the average man and can keep fighting long past the point where others would collapse. He is also highly resistant to toxins and disease and has complete immunity in most cases save for the most potent of poisons. With his tougher bones and muscles, Kieran is also stronger than a normal human, and can land blows with his sword that can cut a man clean in two. Kieran can shrug off injuries that would lay most low, and survive strikes that would kill any mere man. He can also heal and recover from injuries far quicker. Kieran is faster, more agile, and has quicker reflexes than normal men and can perform feats of dexterity and speed that most besides monsters cannot hope to match. Finally, Kieran has prolonged youth and a much longer lifespan than any normal human. He will look like a young man for decades yet, and may even live to be centuries old. All of this together means that he can face a multitude of monsters in single combat, though he still has much to learn. His mutations do not come without side effects either. Kieran's emotional responses are not wiped entirely but they are dampened, and his mutations make him sterile and never able to sire children, a fact that sometimes nags on Kieran.

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【Weapons/Tools and Magic】
Weapons/Tools/Armour
- Two longswords, one of steel and one of silver, strapped to his back. Both are of standard make, given to Kieran when he first became a Witcher.

- His horse, a loyal, trained grey coated young mare named Storm, whom he trained with as a pony and the horse he first started on the Path with. Not a thoroughbred mount but a dependable one.

- Saddlebags filled with basic medical supplies, bedroll, tinder box, torch, a bundle of rope, provisions, and other essential outdoor survival items.

- A field alchemical mixing and brewing set to create the potions, bombs, and oils necessary for his trade.

- A whetstone to hone his blades and an oil and rag to keep them clean.

- An unadorned, dark set of leather and mail armor that is neither master quality nor shoddily made, that both allows some protection from blades or claws as well as freedom of movement. Comes with black boots and black fingerless gloves. A standard set of armor made for him when he first became a Witcher and has used since.

- A dark, heavy travelling cloak for incognito travel or protection against the elements when needed and which can also be used as a blanket. He also has a thin cloth black scarf that can be wrapped around his neck or pulled over his head in a hood for when he needs to be disguised but also must have quick access to his weapons.

- A small one-handed crossbow with standard bolts, used for both hunting and combat.

- A sharp, but common hunting knife and hook to make trophies of his kills for his clients.

- A dirk at his belt, a holdout stiletto in his boot, and several throwing knives. All plain but competently crafted steel.

- Kieran always keeps at least two Swallow potions and two Samum bombs on his belt at all times.

- A journal in which he records his notes and personal experiences. He also keeps a map of the continent, a copy of a monster codex and a book of legends and folk tales.
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【Other】
Dialogue color: Gold.