View from the other side

Brief history of events. It turned out to be a free day, there was nothing to do, boredom, so I decided to do a little creativity and emboss a blog. I wrote with sin in half, as I could. Sent. I'm waiting. Nope. Why?
Blog removed. Reason: No accompanying picture.
Inserted a picture and sent it. Nope again. What's wrong?
Blog removed. Reason: Forbidden text without the use of a thematic picture or several
One is not enough? Okay, I have them. Inserted, sent. And ... About a miracle! Voila, my first bolt. Hooray?
Yeah, right now, rolled his lip. Five minutes does not pass and he is gone again. What's wrong with this damn blog this time?
Blog removed. Reason: Records that do not carry any informational value are prohibited.

Heh, heh (sad) ... Looks like it’s not my destiny to become a blogger, I didn’t come out with a snout. Yes, and the sacred cow was also not worth touching ... In this case, it’s like with the dead - either good or nothing. Or maybe in fact it’s not the right place and decided to write. Maybe...

Although..., there is a wonderful place, a reserve of idle chatter, an oasis of flood and flame (I'm not very sure about the meaning of these words, but they are used here quite often), a chamber of undermined farts and burnt bottoms. My native and beloved by all its inhabitants is the Boltalka swamp. Where, if not here, is the place for my masterpiece, epic, highly moral (modesty is not about me) writings.

Well, if they trample from here too ... I don’t even know. World Society for the Protection of Animals, Greenpeace and the World League for Sexual Reform?

In short, guys, on your judgment. The most humane and fair court in the whole world. Take your time, try to look at it from different angles. After all, it’s not for nothing that I added such a name.

SpoilerThe whole truth about Geralt.

In ancient times, when the earth was still flat and the people who inhabited it believed in miracles, when those creatures that are now considered to be considered folklore were still alive, this true story happened.

In a dense and dense forest, in the most swampy and dead place, in a swamp, a large family of such fabulous creatures lived. Since they lived in a swamp, they called them swamp people. Maybe they didn’t look like normal people, but still, they are also God’s creatures. Their life was simple and unpretentious, they lived quietly and peacefully. The sun rose - already joy, found a fly agaric, caught a mouse or a hedgehog - there is something to chew on for lunch, it started to rain - here's a bath for you, dug a mink in the ground - a dwelling is ready ...

So they would have lived and not grieve if trouble had not happened to this people. The inhabitants of this swamp began to disappear. The first to disappear was grandfather, a local healer, who went to collect medicinal weed in a nearby forest and did not return. Following him, his sons disappeared, who went in search of him. The kids played hide and seek in the forest clearing, the women gathered roots for food on the edge of the swamp - everyone disappeared, no one returned ...

At first they thought the bear had bullied or the wolves had eaten the unfortunate, until they began to find the bodies of the missing. No claw marks or animal bites. All wounds and mutilations were inflicted by some kind of sharp instrument, some bodies were badly burned. Many were missing internal organs - the liver, spleen, heart. Some were beheaded, others had their eyes torn out or their ears cut off...

The forest people were saddened, their fear of an unknown evil seized them. No other than some evil maniac got into the habit of exterminating the swamp people.

Nothing to do. They decided with the whole world to repulse Herod the murderer, armed themselves with whatever they could and began to patrol their possessions in order to protect their old men, women and small children ...

And finally the day came when, no longer hiding and hiding, that one came out of the forest who brought misfortune and death to the swamp people. He was great and powerful, his gaze was stern and ruthless, his armor was hard and strong, his swords were sharp and fast.

And there was a great battle and the swamp was stained with the blood of warriors... And although the swamp people fought bravely and desperately, they could not defeat the new killer. All died, slain by his sharp swords, burned by his hellish flame, incinerated by his terrible lightning. The accursed one spared no one, he slaughtered all of them cleanly...

...In the evening, when the dust from the massacre had settled and the faint cries of the dying had subsided, the formidable warrior, walking around the battlefield and gathering his bloody harvest of trophies, heard a faint noise in one of the holes. Looking there, he found a little boy there, miraculously surviving in this bloody meat grinder. The boy was trembling with fear and crying:
- Uncle, don't kill me, I still want to live, - the boy pleaded.
A slight shadow of doubt flashed across the warrior's face, his gaze ceased to be indifferent for a second and a kind smile slightly touched his stern mouth: -
I'm not an uncle, - he said, - my name is Geralt. Don't be afraid, I won't touch you. Look up, you see the bird is flying...

...Sheathing the bloody dagger, the warrior said with some sadness:
- Dude, you just got unlucky today, because there is no extra exp. Yes, and your liver for the mutagen will be just right ...

Game over.

Moders, brothers, do not exile me to creativity or some other wilderness. There only wolves howl from loneliness and dogs with knives roam.