The witcher's plight.
Once the monster was slain, the witcher took a trophy from it (to prove its death). and saw to his wounds.
Once that was done he set of on horse back, to receive payment for the contract's fulfillment.
As he road on he took note of the landscape's beauty. He made a point of this, as, in the witcher profession, in the midst of all the battle death and disdain, One often forgets to appreciate life. and life's beauty.
'Life' the witcher scoffed to himself.
'What do I know about life? After it all, After all those I've killed, after all I've destroyed, when have I ever created?' He thought in disdain.
This was the witcher's plight. Cursed to destroy so that others may create, cursed to kill so that others may live.
And in the end, what thanks did they receive? A hesitantly given to-light pouch of coin's, and disgusted hateful or horrified looks from the contract giver.
They were all the same. The contract givers. Wether a king or a village of peasants. They were all the same.
People don't care who protects them,
So long as they are being protected.
If it serves there interests they'll stab you in the back one moment, when they were praising you as a hero the last. And even if to your dying breath you protect a group of people, when it comes time to ask for the agreed upon reward all praise and gratitude will vanish, replaced by sour look's and hateful words. As soon as you put your own interests, your own needs ahead of others, people stop seeing a hero and start seeing a monster.
And so you stop being a hero.
And you start being a monster.
If that's all people see, no matter what you do, why try to be anything else?
And thus, witcher's never involve themselves in others affairs political or personal. If it's not business, witcher's don't care.
'At least, I'm not suupposed to care' the witcher sighed 'but I've never been very good at staying uninvolved.'