The Dragon And The Wolf Ch 01

So if you've clicked on this, I'm sure you might be wondering what this is about, so I'll explain all as simply as possible.

I've read most of 'The Witcher' books that have been translated into English, while 'The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt' was one of my favourite games of all time. While I've wanted to write a story based on that world, I didn't want to write from the viewpoint of Geralt.

One of my other favourite games of all time is 'The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim' and I've created my own character, Ragnar Dragonborn, who has since featured in 'Dragonborn Rising', based on the Elder Scrolls: Skryim, and also in 'The Dragonborn Comes', where I sent him to Thedas, finding himself involved in all the shenanigans there.

So this story is about Ragnar Dragonborn in the world of the Witcher. It's generally based on events of the third game, giving my own little spin on certain things. Feedback and comments appreciated as always. Hope this will interest at least a few of you!

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Chapter 1 -- Mud and Blood

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Whenever I wake with a hangover, I'm left thinking I had a pretty good night the evening before, as it generally meant I'd enjoyed decent food, good drink, perhaps some music, and if I played my cards right, I'd wake up next to one or more attractive women. But the fact I woke up with a headache and I was immediately wracked by pain shooting up from my toes through every inch of my body, it suggested something wasn't right.

Trying to remember what I'd done last, the memories were fuzzy. Even my eyeballs felt sore, and I didn't particularly want to open them. I tried to speak, but could only make some sort of guttural noise. I was with it enough to sense I wasn't alone, wherever I was. Slightly opening my eyes so they probably appeared like slits, I noticed a raven-haired woman approach.

"Serana?" I asked. I hadn't thought of her in a long time, not since I'd arrived on the Continent. But maybe, just maybe, everything that had happened was... a dream?

"I don't know who that is," the feminine voice replied. A gentle voice. A friendly voice. But also the language, the common tongue, of the Continent.

"Where am I?" I managed to ask, my mouth parched. Whoever the woman was helped me sit up slightly, feeling a cup placed at my lips, and I greedily sipped at the cold water. I finished the cup before she told me to lie back down, that my wounds required more healing. "Wounds? Where am I? What happened?" I asked again.

"You're in a house about fifteen minutes' walk out of White Orchard. And you are very lucky to be alive. If the Black Ones hadn't killed you, then the ghouls would have no doubt feasted on your body." Forcing my eyes open, I was greeted by a woman sitting on the edge of the bed. Raven haired, as I already knew. Soft features, though. I liked to think I could judge people quickly, and I was generally correct in my assumptions. She had blue eyes that reminded me of the ocean. She rested a hand on my chest. "You should rest some more. Let your wounds heal."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"You've been unconscious for around a week. Peasants were scouring the battlefield nearby, looking for anything they could use. They thought you were dead, but somehow, you still lived and breathed. They managed to drag your body here. I buried your armour outside. Don't need the Black Ones giving me any sort of attention."

"Surely they'd figure out..."

"There is peace for the moment. Any soldier that once wore the Three Lilies has either fled or dropped sword and shield, gone home to their family." She patted my chest. "I'll give you something to sleep. A couple more days and you should be feeling a bit better."

Whatever she gave me must have knocked me out good and proper, as I fell asleep again within seconds, returning to the dreams I had been experiencing. Of my life back on Skyrim. The adventures I had enjoyed. The people I'd met. The conflicts I'd been involved and resolved. The women I'd bedded. And I'd bedded a lot of women. There had been a few special women. Aela the Huntress had been one. Serana had been another.

Then I would dream of my arrival on the Continent. I'd been here for over a decade now, having arrived only a year or two after I'd learned of being Dragonborn. I'd met some strange people. Made some good friends. Been involved in numerous adventures. Bedded a few women as well. If I tried to guess, my age was still only just beyond thirty or so winters.

I'd also made my home in the north, as much as a wanderer like myself could make himself a home, so when Nilfgaard chose to invade again, I joined the Northern armies to stop their progress. None would have known who I really was, would know of my history of this world, how I had arrived. I chose to no longer use my gift, not against man or mer anyway. Using it against the monsters that inhabited this world was a different story, but it had been a promise I had made to the Greybeards long ago, and since my arrival on the Continent, I could count on one hand how often I had used my Thu'um. I chose to rely on my sword and shield, a little magic if I was desperate, and only used my Thu'um when I believed it was absolutely required. I had shown my gift to some old friends, and I had scared the living shit out of them. Even those sorceresses I had met had been intimidated by that gift alone.

When I next opened my eyes, I was still in a lot of pain, but at least I could move better. Opening my eyes, I looked around to see a well provisioned room, covered by a thick blanket, lifting it to see I lay in only my underwear, my body still bruised and bandaged. "Hello?" I called.

The raven-haired lady walked through the door a few seconds later. Noticing I was wide awake, she immediately grinned, gently pulling back the blanket and checking the bandages. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than whenever I was last awake."

"That was three days ago. You just needed a bit more sleep, and I needed more time to tend to your wounds." She pulled a bandage off and made a sound of approval. "Yes, that's much better. You are certainly looking more alive than you looked when they dragged you in here. Touch and go those first couple of days."

"Guess I should thank my rescuers eventually."

"They probably won't want to know if you're alive or not. They dragged you here, dumped you on the bed, and practically ran away." As she pulled off my bandages, she continued. "So I guess you'd like to know where you are?"

"White Orchard, if I remember correctly."

"Aye. Once of Temeria, but the Black Ones are well and truly in charge already. Only been here a few days and they're already restoring order. The people are not happy, of course, but there is little they can do. The armies you were part of were completely smashed. Nilfgaard now stand to cross the Pontar."

"Miracle I survived."

Her eyes moved up towards my upper chest, where my medallion rested. "That is no witcher medallion. Never seen anything like it."

She removed her hands so I could shuffle back to sit up against the headboard. "Could I bother you for a drink?"

"I'll get you some water. And also something to eat."

Disappearing out the door, I felt the urge to stand up, but if I'd been asleep for as long as I thought, I knew my muscles would probably start screaming within seconds. So I stayed in bed as she returned within a couple of minutes with some water and fresh fruit. I devoured the apple within a few bites, much to her amusement, and I drank half the pitcher of water within a couple of minutes. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Ragnar. Ragnar Dragonborn."

"Dragonborn? What an interesting last name."

"There's quite the story behind it. Relates to this medallion. Tell me your name and I'll explain as best I can."

"Tomira. I would say 'Tomira of such and such', but, well, I guess this place is my home now, and most just call me Tomira. Anything else isn't worth remembering."

"Well, I'll say thank you for everything already, Tomira. I'm certainly glad to be alive."

"We lost enough during the slaughter. Just saving one life might be enough." She poured me another cup of water. "So, the medallion?"

"It's an Amulet of Talos."

"Never heard of him before."

"He's one of the Nine Divines. It's a long story, but would it surprise you if I said I wasn't from here?"

"Your accent certainly isn't from this region. You're no Nilfgaardian, nor are you from further north. I can figure out how tall you are, and the fact you're built like a warrior so... Skellige?"

"While they remind me of my kin, no, I'm not from there. Would it shock you if I said I wasn't of this world?"

"I've heard of stranger things than that. I could ask for evidence, but something tells me that you're not crazy so... where are you from if not here?"

"My homeland is somewhere called Skyrim, which is part of a continent called Tamriel, which is on a world known as Nirn. I am known as a Nord in my own world. It doesn't apply to the Nordlings of this world. We are substantially different."

"I've heard crazier stories, but something leads me to believe you. Don't ask me why, just call it a gut feeling. What made you join the war?"

"I'm a warrior. It looked like a good enough reason to fight, and I don't particularly like bullies. I've travelled alongside others before, though I don't know where they are right now. I call myself an adventurer though many would probably call me a mercenary as I generally only fight for coin. I generally ride from town to town, taking on jobs, solving problems." I would have added 'bedding women' but she didn't need to know that just yet.

"Witcher work?"

"I generally leave that to the few remaining witchers, but if it's urgent, I'll generally give it my best shot. I've been shown a few tricks over the years by a friend or two. Obviously got the scars where I got it wrong."

Tomira stood up and offered her hand. "Come on, let's get you up, see how you go taking a few steps."

Taking the offered hand, I spun so my feet touched the cold ground, and with a little help from Tomira, I managed to stand up. My legs immediately cried out in surprise, and I felt a touch of vertigo, taking a couple of deep breaths, Tomira wrapping an arm around my waist. "Didn't realise you were this tall," she said.

"It clearly made me a target during the battle. I tried to tell anyone who would listen about the strength of a shield wall. Obviously they didn't, and now I'm here and everyone else is dead."

"See if you can walk into the other room."

I just about managed to shuffle my way there, taking a seat at the table before she brought over a little more food for me to eat. I was now starving, so I ended up what felt like eating her out of house and home, though she assured me she didn't want for anything. Disappearing while I was eating, she returned with a shirt, trousers and boots for me to wear. "A friend brought these for me for you to wear. Hopefully everything will fit."

"I guess I shouldn't wear my armour. Any idea where I can get a weapon?"

"The peasants that brought you didn't bring any with them. You could try the battlefield, though I'm sure the bodies are now attracting certain monsters. There is a dwarf in the village who could make you a weapon, but he won't make you one without coin."

"I certainly need to pay..."

She immediately waved a dismissive hand. "Nonsense. I would do it again in a heartbeat. If I were to turn away a dying man, I'm no better than the monsters that now infest this world."

"Thank you," I said softly.

"You're welcome."

After getting dressed. I tried walking around the small house for a few minutes before walking out the door and outside. The sunlight was nearly blinding for a few seconds, placing a hand over my eyes so I could take in the scene. I could see a few other homesteads in the distance, peasants tending to their farms, but it was the smells that really poked at my senses. There were flowers nearby, that were rather fragrant, but there was the subtle stench of a nearby battlefield that was full of dead bodies.

"I generally keep a form of incense burning in the house to keep it out," Tomira stated alongside me.

"I guess it's worse the closer you get."

Tomira made a couple of gestures. "There isn't much around, to be honest. There is a tavern in the middle of the village. Other than that, you'll have to head further north for anything that might take your interest."

"I'm going to need a few things before I even contemplate moving on. Weapons. Armour. A horse. Coin. And the fact I'd like to feel a little better as well."

"Feel up to walking to the tavern tonight? A drink and a proper hot meal might do you some good."

"I assume you'll be joining me?"

"Of course. Have to make sure you get there and back."

I took a seat outside to enjoy some fresh air as Tomira wandered back inside. I remained outside until light started to fade, Tomira joining me, suggesting we should head towards the village. I had no real memory of White Orchard. I might have passed through it on one or many journey's but had never stopped before. I could generally remember most places I'd visited over the years, though I had spent times travelling all across the Northern Kingdoms.

The tavern was quieter than those I'd normally visit, but considering the peasants now had new overlords, as most had been proud Temerians. To my surprise, the Three Lilies were still prominent on more than one shield on the wall, though I wasn't going to draw attention to it. Some of the drinkers recognised Tomira, at least, as she led us to a table, a tankard of ale placed in front of us as Tomira asked for a whole chicken with some trimmings on the side. Once it arrived, she pushed the plate towards me. "You need to eat," she said.

"I am feeling hungry. Sure you don't want any?"

"I'll get something later."

I ate the whole thing, much to her amusement as I pushed the plate forward and released a quiet belch. The tavern did slowly fill with people but the atmosphere was one of desperation and loss. Tomira and I kept out conversation quiet, mostly so we didn't draw attention to ourselves. Or attention to myself, as I'm sure many of those around us may have assumed one or two things.

It was only when we stood up to leave, and I hobbled towards the door, that there was a moment of silence. Tomira grabbed my hand, no doubt worried something would start, perhaps someone would approach, trying to blame me for everything that happened. Many men and boys who would have lived in this one village had likely never come home.

"You a soldier?" a man asked from a table I was walking past.

"Soldier? No, I'm not a soldier. Or I'm not anymore."

"Where were you wounded?"

I gestured in the direction of the battlefield. "Somewhere that way."

"You're one of the lucky ones," he muttered, "We lost a lot of good men."

"I know. I'm lucky to be alive."

"Watch yourself around the Black Ones. They're looking for anyone who may have been in uniform. Long as you don't raise a weapon again, they might let you live. But many of our kind has long found themselves tied to the end of a noose."

"Think that's what most of us will be doing, those of us that remain. Simply doing what we can to survive."

We needed a torch to guide us back towards her homestead, walking around to light a whole bunch of candles, before she asked if I wanted a nightcap before heading to bed. It sounded like a fine idea, eventually sitting side by side at the table, sharing a bottle of vodka. "So what's your story?" I finally asked, "I've spent time talking about me. Considering you've spent over a week making sure I survive, I would assume you at least have some training."

"I trained to be a healer at the Temple of Melitele in Ellander. Have you heard of it?"

"Heard of it, never been there myself."

"Well, it didn't work out. I met a boy and thought leaving with him was a good idea. It was a brief, passionate affair, but he eventually left. When I tried to return, the temple wouldn't take me back, my parents didn't say a word to me, simply gave me a cloak and coin, and sent me out into the world. After managing to survive on the road, I eventually made myself a life here as the village herbalist. The locals at least appreciate the fact I can keep them relatively healthy, and the Black Ones have left me alone so far."

"You prefer the quiet life? The likes of Novigrad or Vizima never appealed?"

"No, I figured my talents would be more useful somewhere like here rather than in a larger city. Plus, I can get access to ingredients far quicker. I have my little gardens outside. And all I need do is walk ten or so minutes to access even more. I like my life here, Ragnar. I'm kept busy enough and I do prefer the quiet life. Your arrival was perhaps the closest I've come to any real danger in a long time."

"I'll try not to ruin your quiet life for too long."

"You can stay as long as you need, Ragnar. Sure, you've spent most of your time here unconscious, but I'm used to having you around already."

"That leads me to ask about the sleeping arrangement."

"I've slept beside you. Of course, you wouldn't have noticed considering your condition."

"Well, I'll notice now!"

"Just keep those hands of yours to yourself and we'll be fine, Ragnar."

I gave her a sideways glance. "I'll try and behave."

Enjoying a couple more drinks, we eventually headed to bed. As it was in the corner of the room, I took the side closest to the wall, Tomira keeping on a shirt as she lifted the thick blanket and slid into bed next to me. Within a couple of minutes, she was definitely shuffling closer to me. "I did find you incredibly warm, Ragnar," she whispered, "I did wake up more than once... you know..."

I leaned closer to her. "Cuddling?"

She laughed lightly. "I'm so glad you were asleep. It was a little embarrassing."

Having spent over a week asleep, I found drifting off difficult, and was amused when Tomira did end up moving closer to me once she'd fallen asleep. Wrapping an arm around her, her left hand ended up resting on my chest as she shuffled even closer. I did glance down to see her eyes were close, and she appeared to be sleeping... but I'd been fooled before.

But I eventually drifted off myself and it wasn't a problem.

Tomira did shown concern about me heading towards the battlefield the next morning, but once I showed her that I was capable of magic, her concerns disappeared rather quickly. In fact, I was left thinking she was rather impressed I was capable. Anyone on Tamriel was capable of magic, though most people barely knew even the most basic of spells. I barely used magic myself most of the time, but I was pleased I could still cast a few spells.

The battlefield was a good couple of hours walk away, amazed a pitched battle had taken place so close to the village. From what Tomira was able to tell me, the screams of the dying had been heard for days afterwards, everyone having remained indoors as the battle had taken place.

It was a mudbath, the turf having been torn up by the horses. I knew we'd been positioned on a flank, that the main body of our army had been a couple of kilometres away. That didn't make our part of the battlefield any less deadly. And while the majority of our army stood on foot, most of those around me nothing more than farmers, miners and labourers, the Black Ones had charged at us on horseback, and only after their charge did the bulk of their army move forward.

There were far more bodies of people I had fought alongside than those of the Black Ones. And there were plenty of supplies, picking up numerous swords, checking the blade for damage, making sure the weight felt right for my hand. I probably checked through half a dozen before I found a sword that pleased me. I didn't both picking up any armour. I'd never worn heavy armour. Back in Skyrim, I'd always preferred leather armour, or at least anything light. I might have been a big guy, but I had always preferred manoeuvrability as I relied on my own strength to overpower the enemy. I did find a few more things I wanted, such as a sheathe for my sword and a shield with no markings.