Back in summer, I've read The Witcher saga again, and I really like one moment in the chapter about Brokilon.
"He would not have noticed the second body without the reflection of the sun on the sword that the dead man clutched in his hand. He was a grown man. The simplicity of his dark gray garments revealed a humble origin. With the exception of bloodstains blooming from two arrows planted in his chest, his clothing was clean and new: he was not, then, a simple valet."
Hope you like it!
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