|This article is about the character in Murky Waters. For others with the same name, see Adam (disambiguation).|
Adam was the local poet in Murky Waters, his skills in that area were suspect at best. He was also not so secretly in love with Alina, was considered a fool by Alina's father Tobias Hoffman, and the rest of the village did not seem to have too high an opinion of him either. His occupation, other than aspiring poet, was unknown.
- Adam is one of Murky Waters' more interesting residents. He's desperately and hopelessly in love with Alina, but that hasn't helped his poetry a bit.
- If Geralt exposes Adam:
- Adam, a young poet in love with Alina, accused of killing Celina. He has been arrested and awaits trial.
Associated quest Edit
- Adam remains available to help Geralt send Alina's ghost into the beyond, depending of course on a choice Geralt makes in Chapter I regarding Abigail. Should Geralt choose to expose Adam's crime to Julian, then the young poet will be arrested and await trial for killing Alina's sister Celina, but Geralt can access him after a quick conversation with Julian.
- Once Adam commits suicide, 850 can be looted from his corpse.
Although his true love was ripped from this life by her jealous sister, Adam still clung to the dream of being eternally with Alina. It was during the first lonely days in a rat infested cell that Adam finally found his muse, and penned a poem for Alina.
- I loved you like the noon day sun,
that played across the fields of gold.
O Alina, my heart did yearn for one,
but t'was fear kept my words not as bold.
- Now the sun is naught a sight for me,
as a dark bitterness roots deep in my soul.
How I yearn once more your face to see,
but this reeking cell is home til I pay my toll.
The example above is his finest work, ever, really. In a few conversations, we really get to plumb the depths of his oeuvre. It is bad enough that, at one point, Geralt asks him to simply stop speaking. Here is the poem which prompts the outburst:
- Your hands fine and slender,
your hips big and tender,
all night and all day,
spin my head a painful way...
It might go on, but the witcher just stops him there.