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The Witcher: A Werewolf's Journey

Blaidd, a reincarnated man, finds himself in a body of a mercenary that hails from Kaedwen, with a task of converting the werewolves of the world that he's been reincarnated in to his own true werewolf bloodline. A monster at one side, a human at the other, he'll have a lot in his hands; changing how the world views his kind, finding the werewolves of the world who hides in the shadow, even finding a suitable mate to breed with, he'll journey through in this dark and grim land, only with his trusty claws and fangs, slowly creating a big family that he could be proud of. ====== an attempt at a witcher fanfic.

edgy_incel · Video Games
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22 Chs

Chapter 14: On the Road to Vizima

As they made their way towards Vizima, Blaidd and Casimir trekked down the dirt-paved road. Blaidd carried a stolen bag that was once owned by some bandits they had encountered in the woods. Inside the bag, he had gathered a few useful items for their journey, including a small copper pot, a flint, a knife, some dried herbs, and stolen clothing for replacements. He also had a shoddy iron sword tucked away in its sheath around his waist, just in case they encountered any dangerous bandits on the road and didn't want to expose himself.

Sauntering beside Blaidd was Casimir, the learned scholar, who carried with him a ponderous satchel brimming with a plethora of books on the subject of natural history. They had embarked on this voyage for quite some time, and presently, they were meandering their way through the Kibic River, tracing its course that would eventually lead them to a nearby lake nestled near Vizima. Although they had no horses to expedite their expedition, they did not seem to mind, preferring to relish in the journey rather than hastening towards their ultimate destination.

In the midst of their trek, Casimir, enjoying the occasional gusts of wind, turned towards his lupine companion and inquired in a relaxed tone, "Where are you from, Blaidd?" asked Casimir casually. "I say, you don't sound like a local."

"Kaedwen. Lod, specifically." the werewolf answered.

"Ahh, I have yet to venture that far," remarked Casimir. "How does Temeria compare to your homeland?"

"My memory's a bit vague, but… I'd say less swampy, more forest, colder. And mountains as far as the eye could see."

"The Dragon Mountains, indeed," exclaimed Casimir, his eyes alight with wonder. "It would be an absolute pleasure to one day explore that region."

"Well I doubt you survive for a week there."

"Perhaps," conceded Casimir. "But the pursuit of knowledge is never a facile feat. To study a dragon up close would undoubtedly be my magnum opus!"

Blaidd shook his head in amusement. If only his professors were all like this in his previous life, perhaps he would be much smarter…

"And what are you studying now? Wolves?"

Casimir spoke, his voice tinged with a sense of enthusiasm and passion, as he shared his current interest with his companion. "At present, I am fully immersing myself in the captivating subject of wolves. It's fascinating, you see, how these intelligent creatures interact and communicate amongst themselves, yet there appears to be a lack of scholarly research on the matter. While the bounty of knowledge available in nature is immense, time and resources are often scarce, hindering our ability to fully comprehend the intricacies of their behavior."

Blaidd, his inquisitive nature piqued, interjected with a question, "But why travel all the way to Temeria? Surely, there are wolves to be studied in Oxenfurt as well?"

Casimir responded with a smile, "Ah, my dear friend, that is precisely the point. How can we ascertain whether wolves behave similarly across different regions of the Continent without studying them in their respective habitats?"

"Studying animals from different regions. Got it." Blaidd hummed.

Suddenly, the conversation then shifted towards Blaidd's occupation, and he revealed that he was formerly a mercenary, until the battle of Sodden Hill.

Casimir expressed surprise, "You fought in the war? No wonder you're journeying from the south, back to your homeland."

Blaidd shook his head, "Not quite. I'm heading to Novigrad for personal reasons."

Casimir raised an eyebrow, "Novigrad? Then why did you make a stop in Vizima?"

"To meet an acquaintance," Blaidd replied nonchalantly, adding, "But don't worry, I won't hold you up for too long. If you prefer to hire someone else to escort you, I won't object. However, I still want a portion of the payment."

"Aha…" Casimir chuckled nervously. "Like I said, I don't have any crowns in me at the moment."

Casimir hesitated, "That sounds like an inconvenience. Perhaps, I'll continue to accompany you for the time being."

Blaidd replied matter-of-factly, "I'm only one man. You could hire a small band with the thousand crowns you're offering."

"But they're not the ones who saved me from a pack of wolves," Casimir quipped, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

The werewolf just shook his head in amusement. As the sun began to set, Blaidd surveyed their surroundings and noticed an open field by the roadside, with a small patch of forest nearby. It seemed like the perfect spot to set up camp for the night. He suggested, "We should rest here for the day."

======

The sun had barely dipped below the horizon in the west, casting a warm golden glow across the sky. Blaidd, yet again, found himself settled in front of his purloined and trusted pot, carefully tending to the savory stew bubbling away inside. The scent wafting from the pot was enough to make Casimir's mouth water, the aroma tantalizing his senses with promises of a delectable meal.

Blaidd had spared no expense when it came to his cooking, using every last ingredient he had left in his possession. However, this also meant that Blaidd had only one option left: to reach Vizima by tomorrow, or to venture out in the morning to hunt for more supplies.

Despite his higher status and wealth, the scholar had no qualms about indulging in the simple pleasures of life, particularly when it came to satisfying his appetite. Casimir was quick to express his admiration for Blaidd's culinary skills, exclaiming that the stew was the best he had ever tasted in his entire life. "If you didn't confess to being a mercenary, I would have assumed you were a masterful cook," he remarked between mouthfuls of the delicious stew.

Blaidd simply hummed in response, a subtle acknowledgement of his own adaptability and versatility. The knowledge that had been given to him by the three wolves are truly a blessing, to himself and the people around him.

All of a sudden, Blaidd's sharp senses picked up on a faint sound in the distance, gradually growing louder as it approached their campsite on the dirt road, despite the encroaching darkness. As the carriage drew nearer, Blaidd could make out three figures on board - a man and a woman who appeared to be adults, as well as a young girl at an age that made her barely able to walk. Blaidd rose to his feet, causing Casimir to look up in confusion. However, as soon as the scholar caught sight of the approaching carriage, he too stood up.

Finally, the carriage came to a halt right beside their makeshift campsite, the man driving it leaping out of his seat to greet Blaidd and Casimir.

"Greetings, stranger," said the man with an air of apprehension. Blaidd took a deep breath and assessed the situation - he detected nothing suspicious about the newcomers or their mode of transportation, but it was evident that their supplies were running low, as the scent of food was absent.

"Ceádmil." Blaidd greets in elder speech, seeing that the man in front of him has sharp ears, just like himself. A half-elf.

Hearing it, the man seemed to be uncomfortable, he tried to cover his ears with his shoddy cap, seemingly embarrassed by it. "We were wondering if we could join you," he asked, his voice laced with a tinge of unease. "We shan't bother you if you don't want to talk. We only wish to rest for the night."

Blaidd looked at Casimir for a while, and he didn't seem to have an opinion. So, Blaidd just turned back to the man who owns a carriage, and nodded. "Sure, we have some stew if you'd like."

"Oh no, we wouldn't—"

A deep growl suddenly echoed from the stomach of the woman on top of the carriage. The man sighed. "Thank you very much, good sirs."

The carriage was deftly maneuvered off the main road and parked in a secluded spot, sheltered from prying eyes. The group then busied themselves with the task of unloading their belongings and setting up camp. Blaidd and Casimir quickly got a fire started, the dancing flames casting flickering shadows across their faces.

It was at this point that the girl began to cry, a pitiful sound that tugged at the heartstrings. The woman quickly rose to her feet, gently excusing herself from the conversation so that she could attend to her child's needs. She cradled the infant in her arms, offering a soothing voice and a warm breast for the child to feed from.

As the night wore on, the group became more acquainted with one another. Blaidd and Casimir were quick to learn the names of their newfound companions: Harold and Elisa, along with their daughter Lore. The couple hailed from a small city on the border of Mahakam and Temeria, a place known as Carreras. Their journey, it seemed, was the same as that of Blaidd and Casimir - they too were headed to Vizima.

Curiosity piqued, Blaidd turned to the carriage and inquired about the couple's reasons for making the journey. "Why go there?" he asked, his tone gentle yet curious. "From the looks of it, you want to move completely."

Harold hesitated for a moment before answering, his expression pensive. "There are many reasons," he murmured. "For one thing, being a half-elf, the citizens in Carreras didn't take kindly to the idea of me living among them."

A frown creased Casimir's brow. "What did they do to you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Elisa spoke up, her voice tinged with anger. "Many things," she said, her tone venomous. "They would raise the prices of goods whenever we tried to buy from them, and our neighbors would hurl insults at Harold for being a 'half-breed'. One time, a young boy pushed him into the river, and he nearly drowned after being pulled under by a drowner. Thank the gods he survived, or else..."

"Such is the time for men like us." Harold said, referring to Blaidd. "You're moving to Vizima to stay there too?"

Blaidd shook his head. "No, just visiting an acquaintance. Why move to Vizima though?"

"Ah, you don't know? I've heard Vizima is a city for half-elves." Harold said. "The choice is either that or…"

"Joining Scoia'tael." Blaidd hummed. "That wouldn't do too. Believe it or not they show distrust towards people like us, not to mention, your wife's full human, which they don't like. At most, you'll be meat shields to them."

Harold nodded in agreement. "Indeed, that is why Vizima is the best choice. At least there we will be amongst our own kind."

"And you, Elisa? You choose to follow him?" Casimir asked curiously.

"Of course." she smiled.

"Ah, to be young and in love," Casimir mused. "If my colleagues at the Faculty of Trouvereship and Poetry at Oxenfurt heard of your tale, they would no doubt pen a beautiful ode to your love."

Harold chuckled dryly. "It's not a happy one, I assure you."

The night wore on, the fire crackling merrily and the little girl's occasional cries ringing out across the campsite. Seeing the fatigue etched on the faces of his companions, Blaidd decided to call it a night and offered to keep watch. The others readily agreed and began to bed down for the night.

"Thank you for your company, gentlemen," Harold said, his gratitude genuine. "If you wish, you may join us in our carriage to Vizima. No need to trudge on foot any longer."