Chapter 1

"Once again, I'm sorry for passing out like that, and getting your floor all wet. I promise to help clean it up and get you some more water later." I promised Helga as she handed me a terrible-smelling wooden cup full of some herbal mixture that she said would make me feel better.

I sounded a little muffled since I had asked for a cloth to wrap around my face, eyes, and ears to try to block out most of the sensory input I was getting since it made it really hard to concentrate. I had no idea how Witchers got used to having basically Daredevil senses, in addition to sight, all the time considering all the literal shit they must march through all the time.

"It's no trouble, I spilled worse on these floors in my time as the village herbalist. Though I won't say no to not having to drag up water from the well again. These old bones of mine can't do it as well as they used to." Helga said with a laugh.

"You should take on an apprentice, make them do all the manual labor for you and say it is valuable knowledge you are imparting." I pointed out while forcing myself to drink mixture. Oh jeez, that was nasty!

"Half the village is convinced I'm a witch and the other half barely tolerates me since I barely tolerate fools. Joke's on them, when I finally die who's gonna make it so they don't all die off when an a minor illness passes through? Ungrateful pests the lot of them!" Helga huffed.

"Well, I thank you for your care despite the trouble I must have been." I said sincerely.

"And thank you for admitting it… though to be fair you are less trouble than most in this village," Helga said with a small smile.

Just because I have someone been dumped into a fictional setting, I'm blaming some bored multiversal god or something, doesn't mean I had to be dick after all. Were all CYOA templates people found on internet an open invitation for people to get picked up and played with by them? Or am I just the product of another version of myself writing this down in another reality and thus bringing it to life somewhere in infinite multiverse?

… This line of thought as getting way too meta, I best stop here before I hurt myself more than I already am.

Speaking of CYOA, if my final purchases translated over…

"You mind if I maybe make something from your stock? It will hopefully get me out of your hair quicker and I can pay for whatever I use."

"Go right ahead, I said anything related to you is being paid for anyway. Why not really tally up the bill?" Hegla laughed a little cruelly.

Starting to see why village might fear her.

I got up and walked over to what appeared to her main workstation, what with the grindstone, big metal pot over a fire, various dried herbs in bowls, and other things. As I stared at everything before me knowledge I know I did not have seemed to come to the forefront of my mind in an instant.

"You have dwarven spirits, celandine, and drowner brains?"

"Yeah, brains are a bit more rare but I got some fresh ones just the other day from one straying too close to the village the menfolk grouped quickly up on." Helga pointed out to bottles, herbs and even harvested monster parts I asked for.

"Thank you."

What came next was about twenty minutes of cutting, grinding, mixing, boiling, and various other steps before I poured the newly made Swallow potion into empty bottle the spirits was once in. I knew for a fact I had done everything correctly but I still hesitated a moment before I finally took a large sip.

After all, I was basically ingesting pure poison that would kill normal people very quickly. However, as a Witcher I was basically immune to said poison and instead only took in benefits.

That was the idea at least.

I wasn't a big drinker back when I was pure human, but the Swallow tasted like the strongest liquor I ever had and it burned going down. At the same time I felt the various aches and pains around my body that remained quickly begin to pass and even my head wound was barely sore. Swallow was the basic healing potion that all Witchers likely knew how to make since hunting monsters was a dangerous business and they, we, needed to be able to get back on our feet quickly.

"Now what have you got there? Can't say I made anything like that before. Should have killed you if I'm being honest." Hegla stated.

"It's a potion called Swallow, while it would be lethal to humans Witchers are able to quickly overcome it and we even heal from ingesting it. I should be one hundred percent soon." I explained.

"And you need to be a Witcher to actually make use of it without dying?"

I nodded.

"Good, if something like that was common I'd be out of business!" Helga said in a relieved tone.

Not… quite the best reaction to what was basically a wonder medicine for only a select group of people in the world, but understandable. Pretty sure most doctors back home would hate having their profession and livelihoods so trivialized as well.

Also this proved my theory, I had purchased level 3 utilitarian alchemy for my CYOA character. Which meant that I knew alchemy and herbalism was an area of knowledge I was a master at. Looking closer at various plants, herbs, and other items in hunt I could actually identify them and their uses in a number of potions I could make.

It was knowledge that was there, but it didn't come naturally to me right away. I would have to take time to actually sit down and go through said knowledge I had now. Along with any possibly memories I no doubt had relating to the poor guy who's head I jumped into.

I do hope he was actually brain dead when I did and I didn't kill him by taking over.

Leaving aside that potentially disturbing thought… there was still the question of what the heck I did now. I was pretty healed up and for all that Helga can be nice under her tough outside I didn't want to stay longer than I had to. I do hope Markus, I now, still had more than the plain shirt, pants, and shoes I was wearing now.

"Helga, you know if I had any equipment on my before you treated me?"

"Oh yes, as a matter of fact you did. The ealdorman said he would keep it safe in his home till you woke up, if you woke up really. He's honorable to a fault so I doubt he would do anything with it until you were dead in the ground for good. Still though, you have been stuck in my home long enough and I won't be sorry to see you go. Try not to get yourself nearly killed again, it was too much work bringing you back the first time."

"I'll happily keep that in mind. I imagine the ealdorman's house is the biggest one in the village baring maybe the local inn?" I said slightly sarcastically.

"Quite so, now shove off. But do remember ! saved your skin and maybe if there is a monster about in the future bugging old Helga you won't mind doing a job for free."

"Yes, ma'am." I nodded.

"Good lad, nice to see taking a hit to the head didn't take away your common sense and manners none," were Helga's parting words as I made for the door and out in the wider Witcherverse.

Reminds me a lot of prologue of Fallout: New Vegas to be honest.

---

As I walked down the street with what was basically a towel around my head, other than the occasional odd look it seemed like the villagers were quite happy to ignore me. I'm not sure if that was because this lot was not as negatively predisposed to Witchers in general or because I wasn't showing my obvious nonhumaness in the form of my yellow cat eyes.

Nordlings in general could be quite a racist bunch at the drop of a hat, or they could be totally decent folk. It depended on a lot of factors.

Sadly when the pogroms started up lots of innocent nonhumans were slaughtered for little to no good reason, and Witchers were nonhuman enough to be equal targets. Geralt got taken out in one such situation with a random joe schmoe in an angry mob taking him out with a freaking pitchfork of all things.

Geralt, badass Witcher whose actions have caused the rise and fall of kingdoms, fought and killed some of the deadliest monsters and madmen in this world's history, taken out by a random peasant. I still don't see how that makes sense considering Witchers are supposed to have super fast reaction times to point they can deflect arrows out of the air and had access to powerful healing potions, but it still served as a subtle reminder that despite apparently being a Witcher now I was not invincible.

Certainly not at the moment with no equipment and my new super senses being so powerful I had to actively cut them off. Hopefully this ealdorman is as trustworthy as Helga says, she doesn't seem one to hold back on describing people, and I don't end up having nothing to my name or something worse.

This was the Witcherverse, there could always be something worse.

On the plus side Helga said it was 1268, two years before the game series start and things really start ramping up all over. I had time to work things out and how I go forward.

Before I continued that line of that I finally walked up to what was easily the largest hut in this village of about two and a half dozen of them. Wasn't saying much since it was likely two and a half rooms most likely, but still good bet someone important lived here.

'Hope this guy doesn't sleep in.' were my private thoughts as I knocked on the door at a reasonable volume.

A short time later the door was opened and a teenage boy opened it up.

"Yes, who are you?"

"I'm… the Witcher Markus, I just woke up."

"Really? Prove it. You wouldn't be the first trying to steal the Witcher's things." the boy demanded.

Of course people tried to loot me of my stuff before I was even dead. I removed the wrapping around my eyes and showed them to be boy, who breathed in sharply before nodding and gesturing me to come inside.

"Dad! The Witcher's alive, and he's awake!" the boy said loudly and out of the next room over an older man who shared clear facial features with the boy and with a bushy beard appeared.

"I'm right here son, no need to yell. Master Witcher, good to see that the gods haven't seen fit to take you into their embrace just yet. I feared the worst when you walked into town covered in ghastly wounds before passing out before my home with the cyclops's head in your hand. It must have been a great battle." he said in awe.

Huh, so that explained what happened to Markus before I got here. Cyclopes were pretty scary foes to fight, especially up close. Still not sure why he didn't heal himself with potions or something beforehand, then again could be he didn't have any or wasn't particularly skilled in alchemy for all I know assuming he was from the school I think he was.

"Yes, thank you for paying Helga to heal me and not counting me dead too quickly." I said honestly.

"Your killed the monster that has been making life hell for this village and might have eventually wiped us out if help hadn't come, it was the least I could do. You must be here for your belongings and your pay, I kept both in a secure trunk. Let me go get them." he began to turn back into the room he came from.

"Wait! You already likely paid a lot to heal me, I can't ask for more." I tried to say.

"Nonsense! Healing you out of my own pocket was my choice. Not to mention you agreed to hunt the beast for very little in the first place. A true man always pays back good deeds," was the ealdorman's stern reply as he went to collect the trunk.

… Huh, a decent authority figure in Witcherverse. I best not get used to this for too long since likely only one out of ten out there, if not even less.