Chapter 1: Little Girl Lost

Disclaimer: I do not own The Witcher or RWBY. The former belongs to Andrzej Sapkowski and the folks at CD Projekt Red. The latter belongs to the late Monty Oum and Rooster Teeth

[Forest near White Orchard, Northern Kingdoms]

Wind swayed through the trees of the forest as the afternoon sun shined down upon it. In a clearing of the forest was a makeshift campsite. A man sat near a campfire, and a brown mare was hitched to a nearby tree. The man appeared to be in his forties, but came off as being much older. He had silver-white hair that reach to the back of his neck, and the top part of it was fashioned into a ponytail. He also had a full beard. However, there were two features about his face that made him stood out the most. The first were his eyes, which were amber-colored and had slitted, cat-like pupils. The second was a scar that covered his left eye. He wore a set of lightweight armor made of leather and chainmail, with pads of chainmail and leather covering his shoulders and upper arms. On the right side of his belt was a hook. On his chest was a harness that helped him hold two swords on his back. The first one was made of steel, with a straight crossguard, a red colored hilt, and a teardrop-shaped pommel. The second one was made of silver, had a black hilt with a cirucular pommel, and a "V"-shaped crossguard. Lastly, around his neck was a silver medallion in the shape of a wolf's head.

This man was Geralt of Rivia. He was a Witcher, someone who would slay beasts and monsters in exchange for coin. He was currently traveling with Vesemir, a senior Witcher and his mentor, in search of Yennefer of Vengerberg, a sorceress and his lover. She had tried to get in contact with Geralt before, but had to flee in order to escape the fighting between the Nilfgaardian Empire and the forces of Redania. The two of them had arrived in White Orchard, which was the last known location of Yennefer. After doing a few odd jobs and taking on some contracts, Geralt was informed that a nearby Nilfgaardian military outpost may have information on Yennefer's whereabouts. He had spoke to the commander there, a man by the name of Captain Gwynleve, and they had made a deal. In exchange for killing a griffin that had been plaguing White Orchard, Gwynleve would give Geralt information about Yennefer, along with the reward money that was offered for killing the griffin.

After doing some investigating, Geralt had decided to prepare for the eventual confrontation with the griffin. And he was currently doing so by brewing the Thunderbolt potion and Hybrid Oil, and making Grapeshot bombs. Acquiring the ingredients for the Hybrid Oil (white myrtle petals and dog tallow) had been easy. The first of the two ingredients were a commonly grown herb around these parts. He had acquired the second from killing a wolf that had attacked him. The ingredients for the Thunderbolt (cortinarius, dwarven spirit, and endrega embryo) and the Grapeshot (calcium equum and saltpeter) had been acquired from a local herbalist. While at the herbalist's hut, he had encountered a girl that had survived an attack by the griffin, but was left seriously injured. He had given the herbalist one of his potions, Swallow, as a way to try to heal her. However, the potion was highly toxic to those without a Witcher's constitution. The girl would either be healed by the potion, die from it, or left in a state worse than death. However, it was still better than doing nothing.

"There, it's done," Geralt said as he began to pour the freshly brewed Thunderbolt potion into three small bottles. He then corked the potions and placed them in his box of elixirs (the only other potions he had in them were his remaining doses of Swallow). He then unsheathed his silver sword, and grabbed the bottle of Hybrid Oil he had previously made. However, before he could began oiling his blade, he was interrupted when his horse made a startled whinny.

"Something the matter, Roach," he asked the horse, before he suddenly stopped and listened. He then sniffed the air a few times before suddenly coming up with his analysis.

"There's a smell of roses mixed with blood. Someone's close by."

Picking up his silver sword, Geralt walked away from his campsite and began to search the area. After a few minutes of searching, he found the source of the scent. It was a girl lying on the ground unconscious. She appeared to be around fifteen years old, with a pale complexion. She had black hair with red colored tips. Her attire looked rather odd to Geralt. She wore a black blouse and skirt with red trimmings, along with a corset tied with red laces. Completing her attire was a scarlet colored hood and cloak, which was clipped to her blouse by two cross shaped pins.

Geralt noticed that she was bleeding from her temple. He knew he couldn't leave her out here. The girl needed medical attention, and she would also be at the mercy of creatures like wolves or ghouls if left alone. With that, he picked the girl up and carried her back to his campsite. Within a few minutes, he had packed up his supplies and put out the fire. He then placed the girl in front of him on Roach's saddle, and rode off back to White Orchard.

[The Trotting Stallion Inn, White Orchard, Northern Kingdoms]

Vesemir sat near the back of the tavern, currently tending to his drink, a cool draft of rye. He appeared to be in his late 60s to early 70s, but was actually nearly two hundred years old. His hair was gray-colored and reached to his back, and part of it was done in a top knot. Another notable feature on his face was a mustache and a soul patch. Vesemir possessed a rather stocky build, and wore a teal colored tunic complete with brown trousers and boots. Two large pads of leather covered his shoulders and upper arms, and wore a pair of gauntlets that has metal studs around the forearms. Strapped to his back was a two-handed steel sword that had a curved handguard.

Vesemir was interrupted from his musings when he heard the sound of a door being kicked opened. He turned his attention towards the entrance, and saw Geralt coming, carrying an unconscious girl bridal style.

"Do you have any spare bedrooms in the back," Geralt asked the innkeeper as she stared down at the girl in his arms. She then gave the Witcher a nod of understanding before motioning him to follow her to back. A few minutes later, Geralt returned to where Vesemir was sitting at, and sat down across from him. He now had an earthenware tankard of Redanian lager in his hand.

"So, do you mind explaining why you brought a girl back here," Vesemir asked as Geralt took a sip from his drink. He then cleared his throat before explaining things to his mentor.

"I was brewing potions when I discovered her near my campsite. She was injured, and I couldn't just leave her there."

"Hm, makes sense," Vesemir said as he took a sip of his drink. He then decided to change the topic.

"So, how goes your business with the Griffin?"

"I've learned some things. The Griffin abandoned its lair. Its nest was in the Vulpine Woods. A group of Nilgaardian soldiers burned the woods down, killed its mate, and smashed its eggs. They thought it would fix things"

"What a pity," Vesemir said as he shook his head. "Instead of sending for a professional, they tried to fix it themselves, only to make matters worse."

"I'm going to have to lure it out and set a trap for it. Some Buckthorn will do the trick, and I know where to get some."

"That ought to work like a charm. It has a powerful scent to it," Vesemir commented.

"More like stench," Geralt muttered, his face scrunching up in disgust.

"City boy. Rotting meat, manure, piss - these are the standard smells of the countryside," The elder Witcher chuckled as he poured himself a new drink. He chuckled again as another thought entered his head.

"You remember that time in Tretegor, when you hunted down that zeugl in the trash heap? You, spent half the next day bathing and scrubbing, trying to get rid of the scent!"

"How can I forgot? Are you ever going to stop bringing that up," Geralt muttered in annoyance as he finished off his drink.

Vesemir drained the rest of his rye before letting out a sigh of appreciation.

"Well, if everything is ready, just say the word, and we'll get to work, Wolf."

"I'm ready, but I'd feel more comfortable if one of us would stay here and watch over the girl in case she wakes up."

Vesemir put his hand to his chin as he thought things over. After a few minutes of silence, he revealed his decision.

"Alright, I'll stay. Besides, I don't think my shoulder wound has healed up yet."

Geralt gave a nod of approval as he suddenly got up. However, Vesemir interrupted him once more.

"Before you go, you should take this. It might come in handy."

The old Witcher reached onto the chair next to him, and brought out his present to Geralt. It was revealed to be a compact crossbow, designed to be used with one hand.

"A crossbow?"

"Mm-hmm. I won it in a game of cards while you were out running about."

"Well, how about that. You've always lectured us on evils, but you're a gambler yourself."

"Don't you have a griffin to kill," Vesemir retorted as Geralt mounted the crossbow on his back. With that, the White Wolf headed out the door of the inn. However, he was not going to set up his trap just yet.

Geralt walked through the village until he was at the workshop of the local blacksmith, a dwarf by the name of Willis. Willis was currently hammering out a sword on his anvil. He wore a white shirt with an open blue vest that had red stripes, green trousers, and brown shoes. A white bandana covered his head, and he had a gray beard that was partially braided.

Willis looked up from his work to notice Geralt approaching him.

"Ah, a returned customer! How can I help?"

"Is the order that I placed ready yet?"

"Aye, it is," Willis replied as he went back into the workshop. After a few minutes, he came back out with a cloth covered object in his arms. He set it down on the table before pulling the cloth back. It was revealed to be a set of swords. The first sword was made of steel with a straight crossguard, a hilt that was wrapped in black leather, and a circular pommel that had a carving of a viper's head etched onto it. The second one was made of silver, with a brown leather hilt, a v-shaped crossguard, and a teardrop shaped pommel.

These were the steel and silver swords of the Witcher School of the Viper. Geralt had discovered the diagrams of the swords, along with an unsent letter, on a body in the local cemetery crypt. According to the letter, the body was that of Kolgrim, a Witcher from the School of the Viper. He had been tasked with finding lost weapon diagrams that belonged to his order. He had succeeded in finding the diagrams, but was falsely accused of kidnapping a local beekeeper's son. He was murdered by the villagers and his body was thrown in the local crypt. Geralt had brought the diagrams to Willis, and commissioned them to be made, as well as have runes installed on the blades (the Svarog rune for the steel sword, and the Dazhbog rune for the silver sword).

Geralt picked up the steel sword and unsheathed it. He then gave the sword a few experimental swings. Satisfied with his results, he sheathed the sword and turned back to Willis.

"Very good. You have my thanks, Willis."

"Best of luck to you, Geralt."

With that, the Witcher took his leave and headed back to the inn. He unhitched Roach from his post and headed off to do his work.

[Field near White Orchard, Northern Kingdoms]

One hour later…

Geralt sat a nearby thicket, waiting for the griffin to come upon his trap, his new swords strapped to his back. The witcher had passed the time by oiling his newly acquired silver sword with the hybrid oil. His two grapeshot bombs sat on the left side of his belt, and a bottle of Thunderbolt was out as well.

Setting up the trap had been simple. He had gotten the buckthorn by diving down into a nearby river and retrieving it from the riverbed. Buckthorn, when brought out of water, had the distinct smell of rotting flesh. The smell would attract the griffin like a moth to a flame. Geralt had hidden the buckthorn under the corpse of a sheep, so when the griffin arrived, it would think it was getting a free meal.

Geralt's thoughts wandered back to the girl he had found. He had no idea why a girl would be out and about in the middle of woods at that time of the day. Oddly enough, the girl's red cloak reminded him of an old tale he once heard. It was about a girl in a red hood who went to visit her grandmother, only to end up being eaten by a wolf.

The witcher's thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of screeching in the air. Acting quickly, he popped the cork off the Thunderbolt and then downed the potion in one go. It tasted sour and caustic, like all Witcher's potions. However, Geralt had long since gotten use to the taste of it. Geralt rolled his neck as the potion began to take effect. He then stepped out into the clearing, silver sword in hand.

The griffin screeched as it swooped down from the sky and landed in the field. Like all griffins, this one had the body of a lion, but the wings, talons, and beak of an eagle. Where the front usually were was a pair of magnificent wings. The wings had talons on them, similar to a bat's wings. Its mane was black, and its sharp beak was caked with blood.

The griffin turned its attention away from the smell as it noticed Geralt approaching it. It screeched and lurched forward, intending to rend him with its talons. The Witcher, on the othe hand, acted quickly. He shoved his free hand forward and casted one of his signs, Aard. A telekinetic blast of magic rushed forth from Geralt's hand and hit the griffin in the face. Taking the chance while it was momentarily stunned, Geralt rushed forward with his silver sword. He opened up with an upper diagonal slash to the left before pirouetting and following up with another diagonal slash to the right. He finished this off with a vertical slash.

The griffin howled as the blows hit its face. It regained its focus and swiped at Geralt again, but the witcher dove forward to avoid it. He then slashed at the griffin's hindquarters. The beast quickly jumped into the air and flew off. When it had reached the halfway point of the field, it turned around and started heading towards Geralt.

The White Wolf quickly brought the crossbow off his back and took aim. As soon as he had one of the beast's wings in his sight, he fired. The bolt flew and hit the griffin in its right wing, causing it to tumble and crash onto the ground. Geralt quickly placed the crossbow back on his back before taking one of the Grapeshot bombs off of his belt. He wouldn't allow the Griffin to get a chance to respond. He flung the bomb at the downed griffin. It landed near the griffin, and shrapnel exploded from it and dug into the creature's side. The griffin got up and slowly began to circle Geralt. The witcher strafed as well, with his silver sword at the ready.

A few seconds of tense silence passed before either one of them reacted. The griffin suddenly pounced forward, talons at the ready. Geralt attempted to cast one of his signs, but he was too late. The creature slammed into him and he fell on the ground hard, his silver sword escaping his grip. His chest was in pain, one of his ribs flet bruised, and he had the wind knocked out of him. However, the witcher forced himself to get up in spite of his injuries. His breath soon returned to him as he watched the griffin take off and fly away from the field.

"Damn it," he muttered as he picked up his silver sword and sheathed it. Following that, he put his thumb and forefinger to his mouth and let out a long whistle. The sound of galloping hooves was then heard, and Geralt turned behind him to see Roach running towards him. The mare suddenly stopped as she came within distance of her owner.

"Move it, Roach," Geralt ordered as he mounted his mare and began to follow the griffin. Geralt whipped Roach's reigns to make her ho faster, his eyes still focused on the griffin. He cut through the fields, having decided that taking the roads would take too much time. The griffin slowed its flight as it landed in front of a local mill. Geralt slowed Roach down to a slow trot and got off him, rushing towards the griffin. The creature howled at him as it once again prepared to pounce. However, Geralt was prepared this time.

He grabbed the remaining Grapeshot off of his belt and threw it at the griffin. The bomb landed directly on its face, exploding and stunning it. The witcher then took aim with his free hand and casted Igni at the griffin. A concentrated stream of embers came out from Geralt's hand. The griffin screamed in agony as the intense heat burned its skin. It then attempted to take off again, flying a few feet in the air. However, Geralt was quicker, as he stopped his spell and grabbed his crossbow. He took aim and fired at the griffin's right wing. The bolt pierced through the skin, and the griffin crashed down. It laid on its side, with its underside exposed to him.

This was his chance to end the creature for good. Geralt threw his crossbow to the ground, and rushed in with both hands on his silver sword. The White Wolf sliced the griffin's belly and then thrusted his sword forward into its chest. The griffin let out its last screams as the silver blade pierced its heart. Its head then unceremoniously collapsed to the ground, its body lying still.

Geralt took in deep breaths as he sheathed his sword on his back. He then whistled again and Roach came trotting towards him. Geralt opened up Roach's saddlebags and brought his box of potions. He opened up the lid and took out one of his doses of Swallow. He popped the cork off and swallowed the potion. Swallow would speed up his natural healing factor, and his bruised ribs would recover at a faster rate. Geralt then approached the Griffin's corpse, and took out a small knife kept on his person.

Now came the messy part…

Next Time - Not in Remnant Anymore

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my newest fic, White Wolf and Red Hood!

This story idea has been on my mind for quite awhile. Hell, probably originated back in March or April of this year, when I was playing The Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt a lot in my down time, and when I watched the first volume of RWBY on Netflix (I still have yet to watch the other two volumes). And I admit that an unexpected influence on this fic came from A Dead World by Lazuli. It's a Prototype/Fallout: New Vegas crossover in which Alex Mercer finds himself in the Mojave Wasteland, and begins to travel with Courier Six and Arcade Gannon. I suggest you all check it out since it has really good humor and great character interactions in it.

And I have a feeling that people will be telling me that I'm an awful person for sending naive and innocent Ruby Rose into the harsh and brutal lands of the Northern Kingdoms. I should point out that there worse places that I could have sent her to, such as Yharnam, the Kingdom of Midland, or Westeros.

Anyway, updates for this will take time, as I have my other fics to work on, and I'll be starting my first semester at Ball State University later this month. Until then, leave a review or fave and follow this if you liked it!