You sat inside of a tavern with an empty pint of ale in your hand. It was a long day as always

“And who are you?”

A deep voice echoed through the tavern, making several patrons look over. His voice sounded like a dog’s barking, deep and gravelly. His face was pale and scarred… the ugly mug of a Witcher. “Never saw somebody like you in a tavern like this. Can I buy you a drink?” He asked, sitting down on a chair beside you.