[The table is adorned with a pile of books and a few odds and ends that could be representative of a storied, magical history, but one wouldn’t guess it by the way Geralt’s planted himself on the surface. Stephen quirks an eyebrow, but leashes the remark begging to roll off is tongue. He did say that he could sit wherever he wanted.

It’s straight to business with his man, anyway. Someone who he certainly does not recognize, ashen-haired and to-the-point, claiming that they had met once in the past. Stephen is quick to chalk it up to another version of him that had made the rounds in this world not terribly long ago, but he’s more unaffected than annoyed. It puts him at the disadvantage, but it also does away with pesky things like pleasantries and introductions.]

I don’t remember you.

[Just putting that out there, in case he’s expecting more familiarity that Stephen does not possess.]

But Sam wouldn’t be wrong. [Sam’s name is punctuated, highlighting that there’s a connection they’re glossing over, thank you, but he’s filing that away for now. Once Stephen is down the steps, he moves towards his guest, stopping just short to cross his arms.] On both accounts.

I don’t mind answering your questions. In fact, I think the more people that know, the better. But I’d like some context first. Who are you, exactly, and what territory are you in?