First of all, I would like to point out that this is a crossover, I might not put it in the crossover section due to the lack of people who read about the witcher. This story will take place in the world of Avatar but do not expect it to be the same, I will be changing a lot of aspects. The whole idea is Geralt's distrust of magic is well-founded. Starts during the first Sozin's comet (the one that wiped out the air nomads.) At the same time, the wild hunt has arrived in the witcher's world and instead of Ciri stepping into the white frost, Geralt goes in.
(I will not delve too much into the world of the witcher only because I would absolutely hate for those who have not played to have the story spoiled.)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Avatar the last Airbender or the witcher. All characters seen in this story do not belong to me.
Chapter 1: The disturbance that caused convergence.
"There is no time to argue about this, Ciri, just listen to what I tell you," pleads Geralt as he edges his way towards the portal which Ciri is dangerously close to. I can't lose Ciri again.
"And you would have me let you take my place, I can do this," Ciri pleads before suddenly turning and darting towards the portal.
I knew she would say that. Geralt muses as he casts what will likely be his last sign, Axii. The effects of the mind influencing sign occur immediately rendering Ciri unconscious. Geralt walks towards his collapsed adoptive daughter and picks her up right before Axii wears off.
Ciri still has yet to regain feeling in her limbs and can only watch herself being handed over to her guide Avallach. She can't speak nor move, all Ciri can do is listen to Geralt's final words.
Avallach looks from Ciri to Geralt, "I hope you are right about this if you fail …".
"I won't. Look after Ciri for me, if she comes to harm Yen will obliterate you for me," Geralt then turns to Ciri and grasps her hands gently. "I am so proud of you and everything you have achieved." Geralt internally gives thanks to the witcher mutations for keeping his emotions bottled up. "Tell Yen what happened, for me."
"Sorry to interrupt but the white frost is currently destroying the world if you are going…"
"Got it," Geralt grunts. Taking one last glance at Ciri, he runs into the portal.
The portal opens up to a freezing realm with no signs of life as far as the eye can see. Even in his armor Geralt can feel himself freezing to death. The reason for the catastrophe that happens next is uncertain. It could be due to the fact that Geralt does not have elder blood or due to the comet raging in another universe. Whatever the cause, the effect is massive. Geralt trudges on until he can no longer, collapsing into the snow he gives in to the effect of the white frost.
Bits of Geralt's life flash before his eyes as sleep claims him. A witcher … never … dies laying … in bed. Vesemir's words are the last thing that comes to mind as the white wolf freezes over.
The Fire Nation is victorious. It is the end of the day and the comet is moving on but its effects will be felt for generations to come. In less than 12 hours the fall of a nation. The air nomads a peaceful, free spirited nation has been all but wiped out. Everything from their once magnificent castles in the sky, to their herds of flying bison, all went up in flames. All that's left of this great civilization is one child and his bison. However, to the rest of the world, this remains unknown and will remain that way for almost a century to come. Perhaps more shocking than the annihilation of one of the four nations and a comet that gives unbelievable strength to the people of the Fire Nation is the convergence. The convergence, a term used by many to describe what appears to be circles of molten gold from which beasts and monsters alike emerged. A tear in reality that serves as a bridge between universes.
The four nations will never be the same again. Creatures straight of nightmares now walk the planet preying on anyone who strays too far from the paths. Within months the world is ablaze in fear. In the earth, Kingdom a mass exodus of people move out of their small towns to the sanctuary of the larger cities with fortified walls.
In the fire nation, the death of the current Firelord Sozin and the crowning of Azulon takes the most importance even while the citizens are killed by things that go bump in the night. It is only after the coronation that the new Firelord attempts to deal with the foul fiends roaming about.
The water tribes are stockpiling food inside of their ice palaces and preparing defenses. Both have enacted a curfew that requires all citizens to remain in their huts or houses during the night and until daybreak. Those that refuse disappear, never to be seen or heard from again.
Never before has terror on this scale occurred. And during this time of dread where is the master of the four elements? For all everyone knows he died during Sozin's comet. For the century the people of the three surviving nations will have to endure without their peacekeeper. And the war between the Fire Nation and the others will continue to rage on regardless of the newfound dangers in the world.
Geralt awakens to the periodic drip of water. To his shock he is alive but he can't put his finger on how he survived what should have been a frozen tomb. It takes all of his concentration just to lift his head to see where he is. Upon looking around he quickly realizes that he is in a cave. An unwanted idea forms in his head that makes him sick, I could have been saved by a … portal. Geralt's main priority is getting warm again, even though the air he realizes is rather warm he just can't shake this perpetual numbness in all of his limbs. For the next hour, Geralt tries to properly make the sign of fire or Igni. The sound of hooves connecting with rock jolted him from his attempt to make fire. Geralt tenses knowing that he is defenseless if trouble finds him.
The noise gradually grows louder until the source arrives. Geralt blinks a couple of times in disbelief at the sight before him. "Roach? I t-thought … I le-left you on the island of Undvik." Roach snorts in response before nudging his owner. It takes a while but Geralt finally struggles his way onto Roaches saddle. "Come on Roach," Geralt commands with a whip of the reins. Too tired to guide his horse, Roach, he takes the time to rest his eyes while keeping a firm handhold on the reins.
It's not long before the witcher feels rays of sun on his face prompting him to open his eyes. Not many things surprise a witcher due to their general lack of emotion but what Geralt sees almost does the trick. Having been all over the continent he is well versed in the landscape and he knows for a fact that he has never seen this place before. He can tell he is on an island due to the surrounding sea and also on the side of a volcano from the basalt underfoot.
Tearing his eyes away to look down at his horse he mumbles, "Roach … something tells me we are not in Skellige isles anymore."
By the time Geralt finishes setting up camp and regaining feeling to his arms and legs, the sun is setting. Not having time to hunt he rummages through Roaches saddle to see if any of the food he stored was still edible. The result is a bunch of dried fruits and a bottle of apple juice, while not a very substantial meal at the very least, staves off hunger for the night. Not bothering to put up a tent the witcher opts to sleep leaning against Roach.
"Night Roach," Geralt says as he drifts off to sleep.
All is quiet until the early hours before sunrise when an all too familiar noise or noises wake the witcher. Using his witcher senses he focuses on the sound. Roach, having realized what the noise is from, nervously backing away.
"Go on Roach, I'll take care of them." Turning back towards the direction the sounds are coming from Geralt listens in on the approaching entities. "Nekkers, coming from the Northside of the Island, about … five of them, need to prepare."
Geralt calmly reaches over his shoulder to grasp the hilt of his silver sword. "Steel won't do much damage." Next, the witcher roots in Roaches saddlebag, pulling out a round glass flask containing a reddish-purple liquid, popping the top of the flask he sparingly wets a rag with the fluid to coat his silver blade in it. "Ogroid oil on a silver blade, an especially bad combination for Nekkers." After quickly stashing the alchemical supplies he unties a vial from his waist belt that contained an emerald green substance. "Better safe than sorry, five Nekkers are very dangerous," Geralt grunts as he downs the green liquid in one gulp. Almost immediately after consumption, the veins all over his body turn dark black in color. To a normal person, a witchers potion would be lethal due to how toxic they are. However, witchers due to their mutations and the Trial of Grasses can handle a lot more toxins in their bloodstream. Known as a thunderbolt potion it greatly enhances the strength of a witcher for a short period of time.
Quickly Geralt summarizes what exactly is a Nekker. A species in the class of Ogroid, susceptible to silver blades, Ogroid oil, along with Northern Wind bombs. While not particularly large they make up for lack of size with sheer numbers, speed, and agility. Extremely rare for Nekkers to attack alone.
Right as Geralt rises, sword in hand, the first Nekker bursts through the thicket, quickly followed by the others. They form a half-circle around the witcher forcing him to keep his head on a swivel. Geralt barely has time to react when a Nekker on his right lunges at him with lightning fast speed. Raising his silver sword he manages to prevent what would have been a claw to his jugular, he kicks the Nekker back in retaliation. This isn't working, I need to break their formation.
After slashing a Nekker across the face Geralt casts the Aard symbol unleashing a telekinetic blast knocking down three of the Nekkers and stunning the other two. Rushing towards the closest downed Nekker he dispatches it with a downward thrust. Immediately rolling after, marginally avoiding being pinned. Going on the offensive, he slashes at the waist of a Nekker effectively cleaving it in two courtesy of the potion he downed before the fight. "Two … down," he pants. The remaining Nekkers are becoming less confident seeing how two of their own were slaughtered without landing a hit.
In a hasty attempt to overwhelm the witcher, all three charges blindly head first. Geralt steps to his right to slay the one to his right letting it charge headfirst into the point of his blade. Flanking the next one he quickly dismantles it with an expert sweep. Only one remained, glancing around he spotted nothing. "Probably ran once the last of its friends fell."
Geralt turns around to head back to camp when he hears grass rustling. He turns around in time to be hit in the chest by the last Nekker, sending them both to the ground. The monster manages to put a deep gash on a weak spot in Geralt's armor. Geralt begins slugging it with his silver-studded gauntlets. The Nekker roars in pain clutching its mangled face. Giving Geralt the time to retrieve his dropped weapon and end the fight.
It's only after the fight that the witcher remembered the last bit of important information on Nekkers, they burrow and hide until the time is right for an ambush.
"Time to harvest ingredients." He muses as he sets into the familiar task of cutting up the monsters for vital components for all of his concoctions.
It's only after the fight that Geralt realizes that his wound has yet to heal. Unconcerned Geralt grapes a flask of alcohol and pours it over the wound. Damn that stings, the alcohol should cleanse it and prevent infection.
By the time all's said and done the sun is already high in the sky and Geralt immediately feels the relentless heat and humidity made even worse by his armor. Mounting Roach he heads down towards the beach planning to go south along the coast until he reaches a fishing lane or civilization.
Three hours later of riding he starts picking up signs of human activity in and along the coast. Bending down to observe the findings, "footprints, faint, probably days old." Further along the coast, he finds more recent signs of passage beyond the high tide line. "Charcoal, from a fire, someone set up camp here." Following these sparse clues, he eventually hits an old path. No use standing here.
For the rest of the day, he followed the path at a slow speed to not tire out Roach. Making brief stops to give Roach momentary rest and a drink of water, they eventually reach civilization. The most eye-catching thing in this town is the large crimson-colored palace. Definitely not in Skellige, Velen, Novigrad, or any other town. Geralt has never seen anything similar to the palace's architecture.
Instead of heading to the palace where he most likely would not be allowed to show up unannounced Geralt heads to the town surrounding. Get food, see if there are any contracts, leave. As he walks through the town leading Roach he can't help but notice all of the stares he is getting, this sort of thing is common but never this common. Directly ahead he sees two men in red armor with a skull helmet approach him. Once he reaches them they rudely block his path by crossing their spears. I hate towns, I don't have to deal with people like this out on the path.
Raising a brow, "I am pretty sure this road is big enough to where you don't have to block me."
"State your name and class." The short guard orders.
Geralt lets out an exasperated sigh, "Geralt of Rivia, a witcher."
Neither guard knows where 'Rivia' is or what a 'witcher' is. The taller one levels his spear menacingly at Geralt's chest. "You must be a spy from the Earth Kingdom, for there is no place in the fire nation named Rivia."
Now it is Geralt's turn to be confused. Who comes up with Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom? Judging by the sharp spear an inch from my torso I'm assuming that they don't take kindly to outsiders. With a wave of his hand, Geralt knocks the spear to the side. "Calm down, I'm no spy, I am a Witcher. As in I hunt monsters. Speaking of which, know where the town message board is?"
The guards ignore his inquiry. "What is this beast beside you? Never before have I seen the likes of it."
"What? Never seen a horse before?"
"Only ostrich horses which are native to the Earth Kingdom, I knew you were a dirty spy." The taller guard growls and they both adopt fighting stances.
Geralt isn't impressed, casting the sign of Axii he forces his influence on the guards. "Now you will both calm down and tell me where the message board is, as well as lodging."
The shorter guard lowers his weapon promptly and begins to sway on his feet. "Straight ahead is the town square, you can't miss it. In the town square, there is both lodging and a message board."
Geralt smiles, "good, now get lost."
"Get … lost." Both of the guards murmur as they take drunken steps away.
"Got to love Axii don't you Roach," Geralt says before relinquishing his influence over the guard's minds. Unfortunately, this action did not go unnoticed by several other royal guards.
"Send a message to the Firelord, I think he will find this character most interesting." The lead guard says to one of his men. "And you, I want to follow him and find out anything you can about him. Understood?"
"Perfectly."
Fire Nation Palace: Throne room.
The guard passes on the information to a herald. "Give this to the Firelord." He says handing a scroll over to the messenger.
Walking into the throne room the herald bows before the Firelord with his head grazing the ground.
"You may rise," Azulon announces from his place on the throne. "What is it that you found so important as to interrupt my thoughts?"
The herald keeps his cool under the pressure having dealt with fire lords explosive tempers for years now. "Sir, a royal guard informed me to pass this scroll along." He says as he hands over the parchment.
As the Firelord's golden eyes glance over the writing they progressively narrow, the wall of flames swells with each line read from the letter. "Is this some form of jest?"
The herald visibly blanches. "N-no sir, I merely was to deliver this from a royal guard, he said they would bring more information as they get it."
With a deep breath, the Firelord regains control of his volatile temper and the wall of flames returns to normal."You may leave." Mind control? A new form of bending? Impossible, I will get to the bottom of this foolishness.
Meanwhile, at the Roaring Flames Inn Geralt tries to get a room. "What do you mean you won't accept my coin?"
"Sir we accept copper, silver, and gold pieces not whatever coin that is." The lady repeats impatiently drumming her nails on the desk.
"Novigrad crown, they are made of gold, does that mean nothing?"
"You can probably change those in for the correct coin at a blacksmith." She says without looking up from her book.
"I'll be back." He grunts, exiting the building he notices a guardsman leaning up against the adjacent building trying to be casual. Most guards would be patrolling, either he is lazy or he is trying to be inconspicuous. I'll keep an eye on that one.
After exchanging half his Novigrad crown for gold pieces, Geralt risks a glance back towards the Inn's direction. Guard still there, keeps glancing at me, either he is just curious or he is spying. Geralt goes on about his business keeping tabs on anything unusual. After buying food he finally makes his way back to the Inn. At the front desk he addresses the lady, "back as promised with the right coin, now can I have a room?"
Without so much as a glance, she hands his key and responds, "second floor, room four."
Upon entrance, looking around the room it is actually really tidy, something witchers don't exactly care for but still a welcome surprise. Shedding his armor for some lighter clothing he settles down to eat. Never heard of komodo rhino, but it looks decent.
The guard, having overheard the conversation, hurries off to report back to his commanding officer.
"I hope you gathered information, otherwise I have no interest in seeing you back." States the higher up.
"I have found where the stranger is staying. The Roaring Flames Inn, second-floor room four."
"That will be valuable for later, but for now go home and get some rest. You will most likely need it soon after I converse with the Firelord." The lead guard muses.
"Understood, thank you, lieutenant Lee."
Both turn in opposite directions, one to home and one to the throne room.