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[PR: Ash]

Metal clanged against each other, and sparks flew as the incoming witcher kept up his attack. He swung his blade down, its edge glimmering under the sunlight, and he danced like a deadly fighter prancing across the battlefield.

Yet his sparring partner did not budge. In his left hand, he held a shield, and in his right, a sword. No matter how much the witcher attacked, the enemy could easily deflect and exploit the witcher’s openings.

Roy quickly took a step back and retreated, barely evading the blade that was charging straight at him, and he heaved a long sigh. He held his sword up to his cheek with both hands, pointing it at the enemy hiding behind his shield. This was the first time he had encountered someone so hard to deal with. His stats were about the same as Roy’s, but his skills were far more polished. No wonder Flynn and Arvel lost.

It took Roy his all just to circle around the warrior, attacking his back and legs. Every other part was covered in armor, and he couldn’t touch Vilkas.

The moment he retreated and stopped his attack, Vilkas roared and raised his shield up, then he charged in. Even the air itself trembled as the warrior charged ahead. It felt like he had turned into a fierce rhinoceros, its eyes set on its enemy.

Right before Vilkas could hit Roy, he leapt into the air and slammed his shield into the witcher’s blade. The momentum pushed Roy back, but he had to hold his ground, or he would be pushed out of bounds.

The shield hit the sword, but Roy failed to neutralize the impact. His blade was pushed away, and his hand felt numb. Vilkas thrust his sword ahead like a small ballista attacking a city gate. If Roy wasn’t careful, the blade would pierce through his chest.

With all his might, Roy held up his blade and stopped his enemy’s weapon from going further, but he failed to stop the shield, and he was pushed out of bounds.

Silence fell upon the arena. Flynn was in disbelief. The invincible Goldeneye… lost? No. He shook his head. This place doesn’t allow him to fight at his best anyway. The field isn’t even that big, and he can’t even use magic or ranged attacks. All he’s left with is his swordsmanship, and that’s his weakness. His enemy is someone with a sword and shield after all. And he didn’t even use his own sword. For fairness’ sake, he could only use a regular blade. Of course he lost.

The witcher bowed and handed the sword back to Arvel, then the thief put it back on the weapons rack.

“You’re young, Goldeneye, but you have a mighty strong body.” Vilkas put his weapons down. Even after three battles, he was still breathing easily, and not a bead of sweat was broken. This man was a monster. “Technique is your only weak spot. I can see you learned how to fight from countless battles. You do not hesitate when you attack, but you lack variety. If you run into someone who’s on par with you in terms of physical prowess, you’ll be at a disadvantage if the enemy fights defensively.”

Roy nodded. Swordsmanship was his weakest spot, but it was a different story if he were to use Aerondight.

“That’s not a problem.” Farkas gave the witcher a look of approval, and he said, “You’re brave and skilled enough to be part of the Companions. Once you’re part of us, there’s going to be a lot of veterans more than willing to teach you a move or two.”

“We’ll bring this to Kodlak when we arrive at a decision. So, what about you two? Care to join the fight against the dragon?” Flynn asked.

The brothers exchanged a look and smiled, then they nodded. “It’s an honor to fight alongside warriors. We’ll ask the other Companions if they want to join. Of course, not for free. You’ll be billed once we tally things up.”

“Thank you.”

“So, care for another round?” Farkas unsheathed his broadsword, and its edge glinted. “With me this time.”

“Of course.”

***

“You’re fighting a dragon? That’s going to expose you, you know.” Aela whispered to Vilkas while watching the sparring session.

“You think Balgruuf does not know that?” Vilkas shook his head. “He’s been hiding this secret for us. Now that we’re risking this to help him, he’s bound to reward us.”

***

Dusk arrived, and the rays of the setting sun slowly sunk into the horizon. The trio left the mead hall, huffing and puffing. Flynn and Arvel were drenched in sweat, and their limbs were shaking, convulsing. Their eyes were dead, and they seemed geriatric. Even Roy looked tired despite his great constitution.

Vilkas and Farkas, however, seemed to know no exhaustion. Even after a whole day of training, they were still excited, and their eyes turned a little red. It was with some reluctance they let the trio go.

***

The trio came to see the Companions over the next two days, drinking and sparring. Flynn and Arvel kept losing, of course, but they were learning how to fight better. Roy felt like he was taken back to the early days of training with Letho. He kept losing, but he could feel his swordsmanship improving under Farkas and Vilkas’ training.

The trio got to know everyone in the Companions. There were only nine people in the mead hall. It was fewer than Roy had in mind, and yet the Jarl was wary of these people. Roy guessed that the Jarl was wary because the Companions had a trick up their sleeve. A trick not even the Jarl knew much about.

Through Observe, Roy noticed there were five Companions with hidden identities. Vilkas, Farkas, Aela, Skjor, and the Harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane. Kodlak was a man of few words. Since the trio was not part of them just yet, he wouldn’t speak too much to them. All the other members were just Nordlings who had experience in battle. They were around and about the level of regular humans.

With Arvel’s help, Roy translated On Oblivion into the witcher world’s common tongue, and he learned a bit of the Nordling language too. Roy could see that this book talked about the bizarre adventure a conjurer had in Oblivion. It would help with Conjuration spells, but the content was esoteric, and Roy felt his head spin a lot. He could only read a bit every day.

***

Two days later, Farkas and Vilkas came back with news. Aside from them, a man called Torvar—a grumpy fighter with a shield and sword—agreed to join for the coin. Everyone else either refused, or they had other things to do.

Roy thought it was a shame. He thought Aela would be a better pick for this battle, but the lady was adamant about not joining until the dragon set foot in the keep itself. And thus, the Battle-Borns, Grey-Manes, and a few Companions were finally convinced to join the fight.

***

They came back to Dragonsreach. “I’ve heard of the dragon’s attack on the Thalmor. The crisis is drawing close. Thanks to you, we found ourselves among powerful allies. The combatants are ready for battle. I say we strike before the dragon comes to us. Once the scouts find any trail of the dragon, Irileth will lead a team of thirty soldiers, ten Battle-Borns, five Grey-Manes, and three Companions to take down the beast,” Balgruuf announced.

“Once the crisis is over, you shall be rewarded. You may take the time you have left to prepare for the upcoming fight. Enchant your weapons, prepare your potions. Farengar can assist you with that. As gratitude for your assistance in this upcoming fight…” Balgruuf waved his arm. “I shall pay for all your enchantment expenses.”

Roy heaved a sigh of relief. Good. At least we got something for our work. They met up with Farengar and purchased two lesser soul gems (100 EXP each), one regular soul gem (200 EXP), and one greater soul gem (500 EXP). That alone cost them more than thirteen hundred gold coins, but Roy still had about that same amount of coins left.

Out of curiosity, Flynn bought Burning Hand for a hundred coins or so, and he learned the spell right away. Apparently, the Dragonborn was not just a melee warrior. He too had an affinity for spells, making him a potential ranged fighter. However, he had no prior training, and he had no idea how to meditate. His paltry Mana could only last for twenty seconds of Burning Hand before it was depleted.

The free enchantment promised by Balgruuf would be used when Eorlund was done making their new gear. Enchanting was difficult work in this world. It would require a seasoned sorcerer and an Arcane Enchanter to bind the enchantments to items. If the user had no affinity for magic, they couldn’t do something like that.

Roy guessed that his Conjuration had to be at Level 3 before he could even attempt to enchant a Summon Familiar to his weapon. Every enchantment, including ones on armor, had to consume one small soul gem. You have to have coins to learn enchanting.

Roy and Flynn didn’t have enough coins to do that, and they couldn’t master that art in a short time, so they let Farengar do it for them.

***

Flynn bought seven Potions of Minor Healing and three mana potions as well as three resistance potions that would give him ten percent fire resistance. Every dragon knew how to breathe fire. More resistance meant more chances of survival.

Alchemy in Skyrim was surprisingly similar to that of the witcher world. The base was made up of herbs and a ton of weird items, including the ash of the dead. And the process was done in a ton of test tubes and apparatuses, distilling and purifying the concoction until it was ready to be used.

Skyrim’s potions were the enhanced version of the witcher world’s concoctions, and it was thanks to their abundance of alchemy items. The potions here had a ton of different effects. Mana recovery, healing, stamina recovery, resistance buff, stat buff, or even more than one effect at once. Unlike decoctions, Skyrim’s potions didn’t need any mana to work. Even regular humans could learn and use the potions. Most of the side effects were within an acceptable range and would disappear after sleep anyway.

Roy’s Alchemy was already Level 3, and he was a veteran at this. The witcher world had all the apparatuses the Skyrim world had. Under Farengar’s supervision, Roy easily learned how to make a Potion of Minor Healing. Farengar even wondered if Roy was a herbalist.

Roy’s only weakness was his lack of knowledge of the herbs, since he just came to this world. However, thanks to his Dexterity, he could move more deftly than most potioners and perform every step correctly.

Farengar applauded Roy’s skill, and he generously gave Roy a copy of Herbalist’s Guide to Skyrim by Agneta Falia. This book had records of fifty common herbs, including Bleeding Crown, Deathbell, Hagraven Claw, and Luna Moth Wing. It listed out their appearances, habitat, and effects, and this book opened up Skyrim’s world of alchemy to Roy.

***

The days went by in relative peace. Arvel and Flynn would spar with Farkas and Vilkas at the mead hall every day. Roy didn’t think he could improve his swordplay much in such a short time, and practicing that right now wouldn’t help with the upcoming battle.

The witcher would leave the keep during the day and night, hunting down saber cats, wolves, and other beasts for EXP. If he were to be given a title, Roy thought it would be something among the lines of Destroyer of Beasts. The smaller animals’ EXP would be taken by Avarice anyway, so he didn’t kill them.

He had also seen some giants and mammoths roaming the land. They were about as tall as Old Speartip back in Kaer Morhen, but they were pale and lanky, and they were not as strong and fast as Old Speartip. Judging from the stats and skills, Old Speartip could easily take on two of them, but the problem was that these monsters often roamed in pairs, and their mammoths would always huddle around nearby.

In their large, rickety camp were a few hills of cheese made of mammoth milk. Giants feed on mammoth cheese, while mammoths feed on plants. These were terrifying creatures, and yet they were herbivores. Once, Roy came close to the giant, and yet he was not attacked. The witcher would never attack sentient, peace-loving creatures, so he let them go.

***

Beast hunting gave him 200 EX per day. While hunting, he foraged for the herbs outlined in the book Farengar gave him and practiced his Conjuration spells. The flame atronach was great at attacking flying enemies. Most of the EXP Roy gained from hunting was used on his Conjuration practice.

In the afternoon, he came back to Dragonsreach’s enchanting room and made a couple of Potions of Minor Healing with the herbs he foraged. The workstation was provided by Farengar, of course. And he could also make crude resistance potions as well. He couldn’t make more potions without research, so he would just buy them off Farengar.

At the same time, Roy had collected more than thirty types of common herbs found in Whiterun. I’m going to get the druid to plant these for me once I get home. Plants from another world. Sounds nice.

***

And just like that, two weeks went by. Roy’s Alchemy was now Level 4, Conjuration was Level 2, and the runes for Conjure Familiar and Conjure Flame Atronach were getting clearer. The minions could now stay in this plane of existence for ten minutes, and their cost was reduced by ten percent. His EXP was now 2400/12500.

There were two dozen Potions of Minor Healing, ten fire resistance potions, and more than one hundred bolts slathered with frostbite spider venom sleeping in his backpack. On that same day, Eorlund had finished the items the trio requested from him.

Flynn got himself a one-handed sword and a shield, while Arvel got himself a pair of steel daggers. Roy got himself a set of steel armor, including chest armor, a helm, a pair of greaves, and a pair of bracers. Skyforge items were more durable and resilient than regular steel items.

The armor weighed about forty pounds, which was a bit more than he wanted, but everything else was fine. This was the best armor he could hope for in this situation. Since they were going to fight a dragon, Roy asked Farengar to enchant the armor with fire resistance. Once he wore it, he could feel a cool sensation flowing into his body. It felt like a slightly wet hand was caressing his skin, and the air around him cooled down a little.

The armor provided him with forty percent fire resistance. Coupling that with the potion, he would have fifty percent fire resistance in total. There’s no way the fire breath can kill me right away. It’d take at least a few seconds, and I can blink away easily.

***

Flynn’s shield was enchanted with ten percent fire resistance, while his sword was enchanted with heal-on-hit. Every time he hit an enemy, he could heal himself for a small part of his HP. Arvel had his daggers enchanted with life steal. With how fast he could attack, the dragon would find itself badly hurt before it could realize what was happening. Of course, that was assuming Arvel could evade the dragon’s attack every time.

Roy had enough resistance, but his companions didn’t. To prevent the worst case scenario from happening, he asked Farengar to enchant their armor as well.

Farengar shook his head, sighing. “I don’t have any soul gems left. It’ll be a week at least before the next shipment arrives.”

“It’s alright, Goldeneye.” Flynn shook his head. “This much is enough for us.”

Roy gritted his teeth and whipped out all his soul gems and paid a thousand coins. Despite his companions’ protest, Roy insisted on enchanting their armor. Flynn’s armor was enchanted twice, while Arvel got his armor enchanted thrice. Their armor now had thirty percent fire resistance. Roy gave them five Potions of Minor Healing and three fire resistance potions each.

“Alright, friends.” Flynn wrapped his arms around their shoulders. After all that training, the Dragonborn had lost a bit of his innocence and gained the air of an adventurer. “We did all we could, and now everything is in Talos’ hands. We might live for a bit if he wills it, or we might go to Sovngarde at the end of this.”

Arvel looked at Farengar. “Farengar, do the soldiers have enchanted armor as well?”

Farengar shook his head. “The only things they have are Skyforge’s finest items and their courage and will. We don’t have enough soul gems or coins to enchant everyone’ armor. And the Jarl only paid for your enchantments because you did the keep a great service.”

Flynn hung his head low. He felt upset for some reason.

***

A petite, hooded silhouette in exquisite leather armor came into the room, and she looked at Farengar sharply.

Roy looked at the woman. She was not young anymore, but she had her own charm. A woman, huh?

‘Delphine

Gender: Female

Age: Thirty-eight years old

Status: Owner of the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood.

HP: [Unspecified]

Strength: 6

Dexterity: 8

Constitution: 8

Perception 8

Will: 6

Charisma: 4

Spirit: 5

Skills:

War Cry, Frost Resistance, Basic Swordplay Level 7, Basic Archery Level 6, Blessing of the Stars—The Thief, Horseback Riding Level 5

Stealth Level 4: Allows the user to silence their movements and stay out of anyone’s eyesight. Proficient Stealth users can blend with the environment and blind their enemies to their presence even if they are in front of the enemy.’

***

What? She’s the owner of an inn in Riverwood? Roy froze. He stayed in Riverwood for a night, and he had no idea this woman existed. Why’s she involved in this battle? Is she some sort of powerful woman hidden among the crowd?

“Who are they?” Delphine looked at the trio and stopped for a moment at Roy.

“They’re guests.” Farengar smiled and explained, “This is the partner I told you about. She knows more about dragons than I do, and she’s the one who found out that the stone was in Bleak Falls Barrow.”

“I’m Firona.” Delphine lied without missing a beat. “Can you leave me and Farengar alone? We need to talk in private. It’s about the dragonstone and the return of the dragons.”

The trio exchanged a look and was about to say something, but Irileth interrupted, “Farengar, heroes, come with me. The scouts have sighted a dragon.”

“A dragon?” The trio exchanged a look of excitement and trepidation.

Roy took a deep breath, his eyes glinting. Everything has been for this moment.

Delphine pulled her hood over her head and slipped away, while Farengar was buzzing with so much excitement, he looked ten years younger. “Where is it? What’s it doing?”

“All in due time, and calm down. The keep is in a great predicament. If it comes for us, we might not be able to stop it.” Irileth beckoned everyone, and she led them to the throne.

Balgruuf was talking to a scout. “It’s at the west watchtower,” the scout said, his voice trembling. “It’s faster than anything I’ve ever seen. Grey-black scales the size of my palm, and its eyes… its eyes were terrifying.”

“That’s the weakest type of dragon! We can do this!” Farengar clapped his hands.

“It was circling over the tower when I came back. Still hadn’t attacked us. I thought it’d come after me and burn me down.”

“Well done, lad. We’ll be taking over now. Go back to the encampment and fill your belly. And get some rest.” Balgruuf patted the soldier’s shoulder and turned his attention to everyone else.

Irileth stood up straight and answered loudly, “I’ve told the soldiers, the Battle-Borns, the Grey-Manes, and the Companions to rendezvous at the keep gates. We are forty strong.”

Balgruuf nodded, the look on his face grim. “My friends, this is an inevitable battle, and we must face it head-on. You have escaped a dragon in Helgen. You know how to deal with a dragon more than we do, and I implore you, please assist us in this battle. Should you come back victorious, you shall be welcomed as the keep’s heroes… and its residents.”