Witcher: The Half Elf

Toruviel was clad in a black padded jacket, complemented by a brown linen shirt underneath. The neckline of the shirt hung loosely, and the view revealed when the female elf bent over immediately captured Wayne's attention. However, Wayne admired it only for a brief moment before redirecting his gaze. Sporting a cheerful smile befitting a teenager, he addressed Toruvie

"Of course, Toruviel. Thank you for the invitation, I'm a bit hungry too."

The female elf didn't notice Wayne's subtle movements. She nodded and exited the tent. Once Wayne climbed out, she walked beside him, leading the way toward the camp.

Perhaps because of the dinner time, the camp was bustling with activity. Elves, dwarves, and halflings, men, women, young and old, formed orderly queues around the three steaming cauldrons.

Wayne made a rough count and estimated that there were approximately 30 residents in the camp. Assessing their attire and equipment, he deduced that around 5-10 people were capable of participating in battles as fighters.

Noticing Wayne's gaze, Toruviel pursed her lips and then spoke in a calm but sad tone,

"In the beginning, there were over 300 of us. We fled her from the capital of Kaedwen. Unfortunately, half of our group perished on the journey, brutally killed by Kaedwen's soldiers."

"The two villagers we released yesterday found out about our location. I can't be certain whether they'll inform us, so I've decided to treat them as prisoners and keep them confined."

Wayne nodded in understanding. To safeguard the safety of his people and avoid being tracked by soldiers, not to mention the potential threat posed by the captives as witnesses, taking decisive actions, even if it meant resorting to killing, was a necessity.

Following Toruviel, Wayne arrived at a relatively clean bonfire, where more than a dozen elves and dwarves, attired as warriors, were having their meal. As they witnessed the female elf leading Wayne, they all displayed respect, rising to their feet and offering her a salute.

Evidently, Toruville holds a significant position among this assembly of non-human races.

Once they had located a blanket and settled down, a female elf approached with two bowls of piping hot food, delivering them respectfully into their hands.

Wayne casually picked at the contents, discovering potatoes, meat, beets, and gnocchi. While the taste remained to be assessed, the food's appearance was appealing, with a variety of rich ingredients.

He took a sip of the soup, finding it both sweet and salty, though not particularly appetizing. Of course, it paled in comparison to his own culinary expertise and was far from delicious.

Wayne scooped up a spoonful of meat, placed it in his mouth, and commented casually.

"This area is still within the territory of Kaedwen, surrounded by human villages and towns."

"Toruviel, perhaps you should consider fleeing to a more distant location, such as the primeval forest of the Blue Mountains. There, the population is sparse, the terrain is challenging, and monsters abound throughout the year, making it difficult for humans to locate you."

The female elf leader also took a sip of the soup before setting the wooden bowl aside. Fixing her gaze on the blazing bonfire, she snorted and spoke with determination:

"I won't flee from Kaedwen. Numerous compatriots here are in imminent danger, relying on our rescue."

"Humans treat us like sheep, slaughtering us indiscriminately."

"Yet, I will make them understand that elves are not cowards. Faced with the sword, we will also wield one. Confronting death, we will meet it. No one can strip us of the right to live."

Observing that the conversation had taken a heavy turn, Wayne sighed but spoke bluntly

"There are too many humans, and their soldiers are well-equipped and professionally trained for war."

"With very few fighters, it's impossible to defeat them in a direct confrontation. When faced with their siege, you might struggle to even defend yourselves."

"At this point, your priority should be preserving your strength, act in a low-key manner, and to find more non-human races who are willing to resist."

"Only when we amass enough strength and possess the capability to defend ourselves, will humanity truly listen to your voice. Otherwise, they'll continue to perceive you as thieves, and bandits, and act against you at will."

Seeing Toruveil looking towards him, Wayne contemplated for a moment and couldn't help but add a few more words

"The strength of the elves isn't actually weak. With your long lifespan, combined with your diligence and intelligence, you can excel in any field. You can leverage your experience and skills to become master-level craftsmen. With the right conditions, these skills can serve as a swift means to accumulate wealth and strength."

"It's just that the elves are too dispersed. In any city or village, you will always be a minority, you will never have the power to resist."

"However, if you combine all the elves in the entire northern countries, it becomes a force that no country can afford to underestimate."

"What you lack is a unifying symbol, a capable leader who can bring you together."

"Perhaps, one day, when the elves unite, muster thousands of soldiers, seize a specific territory, and are guided by a wise leader, the elven kingdom can be reconstructed and rejuvenated through resilience."

Listening to Wayne's words, Toluwell remained silent for a considerable time before posing a question with a slightly expectant tone:

"You're a thoughtful elf, Wayne."

"You know how to resist, how to protect yourself, how to fight."

"Maybe you should consider joining our cause and assisting our compatriots in escaping human persecution."

"Fight for the liberation of the non-human race."

Observing the expectant gaze of the female elf, Wayne couldn't help but display a slightly awkward smile. As a young man with a modern mindset, discussing such matters was one thing, but fully immersing himself in the cause of liberating a race was another. To be honest, he wasn't mentally prepared for such a commitment.

Wayne cleared his throat, striving to keep his voice as composed as possible as he declined:

"Sorry, Toruviel. I'm a witcher and must maintain a neutral stance."

"While I understand my abilities, I can't commit to the extent of sacrificing my life for others."

Toruviel expressed a hint of disappointment upon hearing these words. It was not surprising, considering the widely known neutral code of conduct followed by witchers in the north for hundreds of years.

She took a wine jug, raised it to her lips for a sip, exhaled, and then extended it toward Wayne, saying,

"Give it a try, Wayne. This is my own brewed cider. It's an exclusive recipe my mother taught me. It's probably the only thing she left me."

"Your input is quite relevant, Wayne. I will give it serious consideration".

Observing Toruwell's face, which was beginning to flush from the alcohol, Wayne hesitated but eventually accepted the jug. He raised it to his lips and took a sip.

The taste was exceptional, blending the sweetness of wine with a subtle floral fragrance. It would be considered a fine drink even in modern society.

Squinting his eyes, Wayne took another sip, then raised his head and exhaled a breath. After a brief pause, he spoke to the female elf:

"Toruviel, while witchers cannot join your cause, we are adversaries of all human societies."

"But we can be friends, and it's not out of the question to assist a friend in resolving a commission without compromising our neutrality principle."

.....

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