#o'dimm

[kromanjoma]

Gaunter O' Dimm sketch request for @eredins_a_king and @Skyiah_Raine on Twitter

...was gonna be a sketch but then it wasen't.

[nastyazerina]

Если посмотреть то мои первые посты были про Гюнтера, Дийкстру и моего оса, я вспомнила про них и решила еще раз нарисовать. Не судите строго я рисую их для удовольствия и просто делюсь всеми артами с вами 😁

[the-witcher-confessions]

[frenchy-lu]

[deaderthandoubledead]

So I don't know how this happened but here's an O'Dimm version of Ves...

[eileniessacreative]

Promises of Love, and Death: Chapter 12, Reflection

A gathering takes place to both discuss and celebrate the events surrounding the wild hunt and the witch hunts, but someone, or something, hides in anticipation, waiting for the opportune moment to collect what he’s owed. The price could cost Geralt dearly

Fanfiction.net

Archive of Our Own

Deviantart

Extract:

Hamlet by William Shakespeare

“to my shame I see The imminent death of twenty thousand men, That for a fantasy and trick of fame Go to their graves like beds,”

“Don’t ask questions you know the answer to,” said Yennefer scathingly, “it's tedious. Get to the point, or leave.” The wandering merchant bowed his head to her, with sardonic excess, still smiling coldly, eyes as dark as the depths of the ocean.

    “At once, my lady. Geralt, I’ve come to collect on a debt.” The room was buzzing like a swarm of gnats, the mages were watching the display with mounting interest, but the air was thick with apprehension, people kept their distance from the figure instinctively. He reeked of death and misery.

    “I don’t owe you anything.” Said the Witcher firmly and he felt Yennefer squeeze his arm and Ciri move up beside him, he drew strength from their presence.

    “Oh, but you do Geralt,” said O’Dimm, slowly picking up a cheese knife from a nearby table and running his fingers over the smooth surface of the blade, “and as you are well aware I always get what I’m owed, even if I have to take it by force.”

    Master Mirror dug the knife into the table with a thud which was instantaneously drowned out by Geralt’s cry as he fell to his knees, howling like a wounded animal as razor sharp pain shot through his body as though millions of pins were piercing his flesh completely enveloping his senses, he didn’t feel Yennefer wrap her arms around him, didn’t notice her scent, didn’t hear Ciri’s cry. All he knew was pain. Unconscionable pain. Pain unlike anything he’d felt before, in those few seconds the pain he experienced extended beyond a lifetime of suffering, and beyond mortal understanding.

   “I’ve come to collect your suffering, Geralt of Rivia.” Said O’Dimm as he quickly pulled the knife free backing away from the group in surrender and throwing the blade at Ciri’s feet as she took a step towards him. Geralt gasped for air, his body shaking as he clung to the Sorceress like a lifeline as she tried desperately to extinguish his pain, whispering tenderly in his ear and running a hand through his long hair.

[nastyazerina]

Несколько зарисовок.

[the-witcher-confessions]