S T O R Y
Uver grew up in Northern Poviss, in the small city of Badreine. They were outcasted because of their obviously Elven looks, but kind folk on the outside of the walls offered them a job as a stablehand. They took care of the farmers' horses and animals, and when there happened to be a visitor (more often than not, a Griffin Witcher making last stops before the long haul to Kaer Seren), took care of any animals they had.
It is here that Uver meets a Griffin Witcher named Raven, and for eight years, the two were friendly faces every early spring and late fall. On that eighth year, Raven was forced to winter in Badreine, and Uver offered their home to him, both in order to save money as well as keep the townsfolk happy from having a Witcher there so long.
By this point, it has been a year since Uver has started to grow horns, revealing that they're not human in the slightest. They could keep the horns covered with intricate braids, but the horns were growing and it would soon be obvious to the townsfolk that Uver wasn't like them at all. Uver was planning on dealing with this when they got to it, but by winter's end, Raven offered a place by his side, and who was Uver not to accept?
Their lives together are long, and only after a year on the road, the two got married. It would be a long 100 years of marriage, full of its ups and downs, but no one could deny the love they had for each other. They traveled all throughout the mainlands, as far south as they could reach before the Nilfgaardian Empire started stirring, and they went back north. They saw many sites, learned many new things, and it was undeniably a great life.
On that 100th year of their marriage together, Raven took a Griffon contract, as he was wont to do to keep townsfolk safe. Uver had finished selling their excess produce for extra coin, but stayed in their rented room, as while Wyzima was accepting of Witchers, a horned elf like themself caught too many eyes. Raven was late, and while worried, Uver was used to some jobs taking longer than others. But the dusk wanned into night and the night stretched on until dawn peaked through the window, and--and Uver knew. They knew that this was it.
After Uver discovered Raven's body, shackled in their leathered armor, they took his swords and finished the job, killing the badly wounded Griffon at the cost of a slash to the face. Uver used the money from the contract to hire some men to bury Raven in a tomb with as much flowers as the left over money could buy. They did not say goodbye as Raven's tomb was sealed--there was no point to. They turned on their heel, and left. They would remember him through actions, and through the homage of the twin blades and medallion Uver had taken.
Uver grieved, hard. They took on as many monster contracts as they could, killing without abandon and trying to force the hurt to stop. It was only ten long years of loneliness and bitterness did they stop--and breathed. They stood on top of a community of rock trolls and realized that they didn't want to continue like this. They just... wanted peace. So, they took the money that they had earned and settled outside of Novigrad, growing a small garden and teaching a young child that looked as if she were their own. It was peaceful, and Uver made many friends in both Witchers, humans, and nonhumans alike, even if they were scorned for their inhuman features.
A year passed--and it was a year too long. They were ready to leave, to travel again, as they had for over the past 60 years. So, they did, more cautiously taking contracts and bearing the familiar glares from hatred of the other that they were. They stuck close to Novigrad, unwilling to leave that child to her own devices longer than necessary. Things were... they were okay again.
But even okay things must come to an end, and a princess on the run needing protection brings Uver to Kaer Morhen. Unwilling to let another Witcher die in front of them, Uver stepped in front of the blow. They choked on their blood as the battle around them died, and the friends that they had made over the past few years stood around them. It was... beautiful, almost. Poetic. It's a thought that causes them to laugh, to curse at the pain, and for Eskel (Eskel, whose demeanor made their heart flutter just as it once had, long ago) to grip their hand, promising that they would be okay.
Smiling, Uver closed their eyes and knew no more.
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