[ It's good timing: Geralt's not in the mood to let his pitcher run dry. There's a quirk of an eyebrow as he examines who's brought him a drink this time. Not that it's unwelcome. But folks don't tend to buy him a drink unless they're looking for something.
After a moment, he accepts. He tips the filled pitcher into his mug, which smells vaguely less like watered down piss. ]
And what am I offering you in return?
[ If the man is seeking pleasant company, he'll not find it here. A job, though -- hell, Geralt could use the distraction.
(That's the irony, too: since the Evergreen Circle has been cut down, the city's grown quiet. Normally his preference, the quiet, but right now it only makes him restless.) ]
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After a moment, he accepts. He tips the filled pitcher into his mug, which smells vaguely less like watered down piss. ]
And what am I offering you in return?
[ If the man is seeking pleasant company, he'll not find it here. A job, though -- hell, Geralt could use the distraction.
(That's the irony, too: since the Evergreen Circle has been cut down, the city's grown quiet. Normally his preference, the quiet, but right now it only makes him restless.) ]