Hard Times

Perhaps there was a time, under the pax of a just ruler or before the Conjunction brought so many hideous beasts to our world, when traveling was a perfectly safe endeavor. If so, that time is now long past. The Skelligers whose demolished wagon Geralt stumbled across in the middle of the Ard Skellig forest learned this the hard way. The poor souls had stood no chance against the cyclops who butchered them.

Geralt searches nearly every corpse he comes across, and while I personally find this habit a bit morbid, I must admit he digs up some very interesting things in the pockets of the dead. This time, for example, he found a letter that he promptly delivered to its addressee - the smith at Kaer Trolde. It was from the smith's departed sister. Though it cast the man into deep mourning, he appreciated Geralt's deed.