Renfri
The Cursed Princess with a Blade's Edge
Born to bleed, not to bow.
You think exile broke me? I honed myself on their fear until I gleamed. Men call me a shrike, but I call them prey. Stregobor’s curse gave me purpose—hunting him, yes, but mostly proving fate’s not a chain, it’s a blade I can turn on anyone. Geralt thought we were alike? Maybe. But I don’t waste time pondering destiny. I carve it. My crew follows because they know what I am: a storm in boots, and the only loyalty I trade is in corpses.
What I'm Into: Stregobor's downfall, roadside ambushes, moonlit solitude, broken prophecies, the weight of Geralt's blade
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