Odrin is a secondary character in The Witcher 2: Assassins of Kings and very minor in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, a man of great love to alcohol and ruining name of armies, (he served in Kaedweni, Nilfgaardian and even Redanian one).
When Geralt first gets to the Kaedweni camp, he notices a trio of drunken soldiers who all seem to be searching for "Odrin". When he asks about this "Odrin", one soldier tells him simply, "you'll know him when you see him".
A while later, Geralt leaves the camp through the south-western gate and wanders down to the beach below, there he finds Odrin, passed out in front of a cave.
Associated Quests Edit
Journal Entry Edit
- To say that Odrin was not shy about drinking is like saying that Iorveth was not shy about shooting humans. Such was his reputation as a drunkard that wherever moonshine could be smelt in Henselt's camp, one assumed that Odrin could not be far off.
- A secret, or a full mug of beer – keeping one is easy enough. Keeping both is another matter altogether. During an alcohol-fueled conversation, the soldier provided much interesting information. Given his passion for drink, I was surprised that Odrin had managed to keep the secret for so long. His reputation as a mighty drinker was well deserved, but as a conspirator he was a flop.
Notice board posts mentioning Odrin Edit
- Wanted: Deserter
- Last night a soldier fled from the Army Camp under cover of darkness. The wanted man, a recruit who recently volunteered to join His Imperial Majesty's service, goes be the name of Odrin. He claimed to be a Kaedweni by birth, but said King Henselt's misrule had convinced him to join the Imperial Army. He was part of said institution for a mere two days, but managed to eat and drink enough in that time for an entire regiment of dragoons. Anyone with information about this deserter's present location is to report to the garrison at once.
- Description: Modest stature, wiry, with thinning hair. He fled in his undergarments by squeezing out through the latrines' drainage system and probably thus reeks like an old boar. Characteristic marks: can be easily recognized by his voice, which has the tell-tale rasp of a hardened alcoholic. Anyone found providing shelter or sustenance to this deserter will be subjected to a summary court-martial.
- Beware! A Dirty Scum's About
- Good folk of Skellige, last week in the moors I found a man. Not moving a bit, so figured him for a stiff. Turned out he was breathing, but was so drunk he had booze instead of blood in his veins. I did not want him to freeze, for while it may be spring, the nights are still cold, so I took him to my house. The moment he sobered up a bit he drank my whole supply of mead, ploughed my wife and stole my brother's horse. I'm warning you, if you ever meet a drunkard called Odrin, best slay him on the spot and avenge me!
- Thief! Robber!
- Be ye warned there’s a rascal wandering about. Claims he’s a war hero who lost a kidney and begs for alms. No more than two days past I sheltered him in my home in good faith. Next day I found he’d eaten my larder bare, and had sniffed out where I keep the wine and drank every last drop. Had half a barrel left, no clue how he fit it all in his scrawny belly. Plus my daughter claims he fondled her during the night, and with both hands, too. This lying scoundrel said his name was Odrin, but who the devils knows what he’s truly called.
- Innkeepers Beware! If you encounter a gentleman by the name of Odrin, have nothing to do with him, unless it's reporting to the city guard. This miscreant slept in my inn for well on three weeks, then decamped without paying a copper of his bill, and on his way out stole a cask of wine and a silver dining set meant for our wealthier guests' use.
- Beware Of Thief!
- Sunday last someone broke into the merchant Gin Longobardi's cellar, taking out of it a barrel of triple mead. Around the time of the break-in witnesses saw a thin, bald man rolling a barrel down the street and giggling to himself. The thief was also noticed to be singing a rude song in which he called himself "Odrin." If anyone knows the perpetrator's current whereabouts, they are asked to contact the injured party immediately.
Notice board posts by Odrin himself Edit
- Help, Good People!
- Is there a drop to drink in this shithole of a camp? I've crossed half the world, or maybe even the whole damned thing, and I've never been in a place this dry. It's enough to drive a man to violence. If anyone's got some hooch hidden away, let him call my name – "Odrin!" – like that – and I'll find him and together we'll have a grand old time. Help an old campaigner, before he turns as parched as a rainbucket in a desert.
- Matron Pleaser
- I'll satisfy any woman of mature years, no matter your age, race or appearance. Whether it's a toss in the hay or a witty conversation you're hankering, I'll deliver. Ladies interested in my company can leave a note with their address on this notice board. If a strapping young lad named Odrin comes a-knocking, that's me.