Istredd
Ind. pri. sel. Istredd from Andrzej Sapkowski's 'The Witcher'. Book and show compliant.
Written by: Val <3
RULES
Rule 1: This blog is mutuals only. That means that memes and threads will only be accepted by mutuals. Please don't message me and ask me to follow you - I'll look at your blog when you follow me and go from there.
Rule 2: I work full time and have a pretty busy personal life! Please don't remind me to reply to threads. I'll try my best! (That said, if it's been a month and you haven't heard from me it's cool to ask me what's up - I might have missed your reply).
Rule 3: If I unfollow you, don't ask me why. You'll get blocked. Sorry bout it!
Rule 4: A lot of Istredd is my personal headcanons and such. There really isn't too terribly much source material for him. Please don't use what I've come up with for Istredd without permission.
Rule 5: I am a whole ass 26 year-old adult. I'm not going to smut with minors and I'd rather RP with 18+ as it's likely there will be adult themes present. I'll tag everything accordingly.
biography
Istredd was supposed to be a bard.
Well, that’s what he wanted to be anyway. His family was minor nobility in Lan Exeter - not well enough known to have their crests on castle walls, but known enough to be worth a fair purse. He would have gone to some temple school, perhaps learned poetry and prose with the rest. He’d started learning the lute young so it wasn’t like they’d have to start afresh musically. He would have gone from kingdom to kingdom entertaining nobles and peasants alike, exploring culture and history, and perhaps even falling in love.
Istredd was supposed to be a bard.
He could have been a bard if he hadn’t been born as a source. One of those lucky few who knew how to turn chaos into magic thanks to the help of the elves and his hopes for the future changed. It wasn’t all bad, he supposed. Ban Ard tested him, found him strong enough to control the Power and gave him a second home. Roedskilde tutored him and sponsored his education - taught him glyphs and excavation and battle magic.
It wasn’t what Istredd wanted, but it wasn’t the worst scenario he could have imagined. He was allowed to continue his poetry and his lute playing because he was expected to be a political tool. Kings and their servants always looked for entertainment or skill beyond the magic, to make them indispensable. An extra skill, Roedskilde told him, could be the difference between a mage striking an important political alliance and being the victim of a coup.
Yennefer of Vengerberg was the best and worst thing to happen to Istredd during his time at Ban Ard. No lesson could have prepared him, no battle spell could have readied him for the devastation Yennefer would one day cause him. He loved her so wholly and completely that he was sure they would be together forever. He loved her despite her appearance, despite her initial lack of innate ability. He loved her despite her manipulations and ambition. He loved her first and with everything he had and she… well, she loved power. Not people.
She manipulated her way into Aedirn and he chased after her like the lovesick fool he was. Spent years asking for placement close to the border, offering his assistance to every mage within leagues of the Aedirnian border, but Yennefer was faster. His placements were rejected, his assistance was denied, and his heart chipped a little more each time until Stregobor reminded him that he was a mage, not a bard.
So he fell into his work. He looked for distractions, kept himself busy. Eventually, the sting faded to a dull ache and he moved on with his life. He flirted with men and women alike, woke up in beds that didn’t belong to him. Only sometimes did he wish the eyes that looked back at him were violet, at the end of a cup full of ale most times.
Istredd always wanted to be a bard, but instead he was a battle mage.