#yurga

[onionsandestiny]

Let’s all appreciate the fact that Geralt’s idea of temporary self care is to down a potion with hallucinogenic properties then pour it over an open wound. 

[hamletteprinceofdenmark]

Legit can’t stop thinking about Yurga the merchant farmer ...

Imagine ... you’re travelling home to your family after who know how long when you come across a literal field of half-eaten corpses, who you recognise as refugees from a neighbouring kingdom. Out of what you see as nothing more than common decency you decide to give them proper burial, building a mass grave by yourself in the dark when The Butcher of Bloody Blaviken rides in on his horse and you exchange a few short but relatively friendly words with him before he insists that you have to go. He is a Witcher after all so you leave, reluctantly, but he seemed a nice lad for all he’s a mass murderer so you head back to make sure he’s okay.

He’s not.

You load this ludicrously built and delirious man onto your cart by yourself in the dark not knowing whether the things that attacked you both are still around or not. You make sure his horse is okay and following then resume the slow trek back home to hearth and kin, hoping you can find some help for the man who saved your life.

He mutters in his fevered sleep. His mother, you think at first, then, no, a sweetheart. A lover? It’s hard to tell. He speaks each name with such reverence. With such raw panic and deep, deep yearning. He mutters so many names you wonder how this mutant, who supposedly knows no pain nor love could ever know so many. Then again, he looked different sleeping through the day among the hay and apples than he did astride his horse the night before. More like how you think your son might look in a decade or two than a mindless Butcher.

When he wakes properly, he’s just as gruff as he was before, but it’s too late, you’ve seen his kindness. He doesn’t scare you anymore. He asks for a simple ale in place of the Law of Surprise you offer.

Not far now and you make it home, your wife greets you as she runs from the door, talking about a girl she found, an orphan - Bless your wife and her bleeding heart - and then before she can even go inside for the promised ale that son of a bitch walks straight into the woods on his injured leg without a bloody word.

What a fucking day.

[theyearofrisinglight]

‘Geralt!’ the little girl repeated, clinging to the Witcher’s chest. ‘You found me! I knew you would! I always knew! I knew you’d find me!’ ‘Ciri,’ said the Witcher. Yurga could not see his face hidden among the mousy hair. He saw hands in black gloves squeezing the girl’s back and shoulders. ‘You found me! Oh, Geralt! I was waiting all the time! For so very long… We’ll be together now, won’t we? Now we’ll be together, won’t we? Say it, Geralt! Forever! Say it!’ ‘Forever, Ciri.’ ‘It’s like they said! Geralt! It’s like they said! Am I your destiny? Say it! Am I your destiny?’ Yurga saw the Witcher’s eyes. And was very astonished. He heard his wife’s soft weeping, felt the trembling of her shoulders. He looked at the Witcher and waited, tensed, for his answer. He knew he would not understand it, but he waited for it. And heard it. ‘You’re more than that, Ciri. Much more.’

Sword of Destiny “Something More”

[writer-at-the-table]

Well, what can I say? It's a bad world. But there's no reason for us all to become despicable. What we need is kindness.

Yurga, Something More, Sword of Destiny by Andrzej Sapkowski, translated by David French, page 334

[acicueta]

Denis Gordeev - Yurga - Geralt of Rivia

[onionsandestiny]

Big!Geralt and Little!Geralt parallels 

[somethingcomplicated]

Yurga, Russia 😛

Something Long And Complicated selfie (Yurga, Russia)

Russia is simply not available to people, i.e. there is simply not enough information about them. We lack detailed information on the Soviet Union. Sources: 0

The extent of the spoils from the industrial production of TC in the USSR was always remarkable, but we do not know how many captured TC were held in the Soviet Union and Germany…

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[writer-at-the-table]

Yurga: It's a human and a good thing.

Geralt: What?

Yurga: Doubts. Only evil, sir, never has any.

- Something More, Sword of Destiny by Andrzej Sapkowski, translated by David French, page 364