<div class="floatleft">(http://24.media.tumblr.com/8c88dbeaf23d01386803a3ee6cf2bf80/tumblr_mmr77lWhN11r495v5o2_250.gif)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Conor<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Kaer Morhen - Courtyard<br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Open<br/><strong>Wearing</strong>: His armour (https://staticdelivery.nexusmods.com/mods/952/images/663-7-1442050519.jpg)<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Not a moment had passed between getting<em>Empress</em>in her stable before Conor heard the distinctive voice of Arlaine of Vengerberg, turning on the spot to greet her she welcomed him with an embrace which he returned in kind. The smell of her hair was a welcome change from the scents he had been treated too on the road. "<strong>Its good to be back.</strong>" the smile on his face suggested it was a very genuine sentiment, especially with who was first to welcome him back. Once there was a little space between them he took the chance to remove his gloves and let the skin on his hands breath. Not to mention just stretch them out. Blisters were an old friends of his but he was a Witcher, they healed quickly. How others got by with them he would never know. "<strong>Not bad.</strong>" he had been out on the Path for most of the year, returning only very rarely and not for long. The winter would be his longest stay since last winter. "<strong>Much the same as ever, someone needs help, I agree to help for a price. Kill the monster, they quibble over the agreed price. New assholes, same shite.</strong>" Conor had read enough accounts of Witchers from the olden days to know the tricks folk would try, it was almost impressive how quickly folk got back into the swing of trying to get out of paying a Witcher.<br/><br/>Conor was about to say something else when an entirely different voice caught his attention. Shifting his weight to glance in the direction of the newcomer he nearly did a double take. "<strong>Elias? Is that <em>baby</em> Elias!?</strong>" Elias was of course not a baby but he was the youngest of their brotherhood and with the time Conor had been away, well any changes were always most noticeable in the younger kin. The older Witcher put out his hand for a firm shake but was quick to pull the young man of the Skellige Isles into an embrace. "<strong>Well your balls have dropped haven't they?</strong>" the Nilfgaardian always found it a bit just how brash he was. He seemed...well he seemed to young for it, almost carried himself like an older man. Perhaps it was just the way of youth to imitate the role of their seniors until they became it or maybe he just had an old soul.<br/><br/>"<strong>Well come on then, what have I missed? There's got to be some news around the Castle.</strong>" Truth be told they more likely expected him to bring news from the wide open world. All manner of information could be gained while on the path, though half of it was horse shit. A pair of farmers squabble in Aedirn and by the time the story reaches Kaedwen its turned into a grand tale of love, lust and intrigue with a Bruxae thrown in for good measure.<br/><br/>Letting his eyes roam over the scene about him for a moment Conor caught sight of the Sorceress Iska Mandem. She waved to the group and Conor waved back. Conor was fond of Iska, she had a good heart and while just about all Sorceresses could make things move about with their magic, none seemed to do it quite so well as Iska. Telekinesis or whatever it was. While it was all well and good to throw around a fireball or something, there was something highly impressive about making a sword stop in midair and just sending it shooting through the air like a giant steel arrow. It was then he spotted Lucrezia watching them from the entrance to the Castle. No polite wave from her of course. The woman was a force of nature, be it a firestorm or glacier he wasn't entirely sure. "<strong>How about we head inside?</strong>" he tried to take his mind off of her, better company beside him. "<strong>I need a hot meal, a hotter bath and a stiff drink and I don't mind in which order.</strong>" the Witcher was rather sure that between what was caked into his hair and caught under his nails he had half the dirt from here to Mahakam.