Chapter 1: Shattered Vows
Earth's End – 2025, Earth, night
The world ended not with a bang, but with the sickening crunch of twisted metal. Adam Stiels, a fan of old fantasy games, a player who knew the rhythm of steel on scale and the searing heat of a fire sign, felt the final, jarring shudder of his universe. The smell of burning rubber and leaking gasoline, a noxious perfume of destruction, filled his lungs. The frantic drumbeat of his heart, a wild animal trapped in his chest, slowed and then simply… stopped. He'd spent countless hours on the Path, slaying ghouls and griffins, but this final, pathetic death wasn't in any of the game manuals he'd ever read. He was a Witcher, a monster hunter, and he had just been taken out by a distracted driver. It was almost funny.
"Inner monologue: A car crash. Seriously? Of all the ways to go. I was hoping for a death by griffin or a cursed witch. This is just… sad. Please tell me I'm not stuck in a celestial waiting room. I've got skills to put to use."
WELCOME, WITCHER. HOST: ADAM STIELS. QUEST: SAVE THE DRAGON QUEEN, 500 XP.AARD, IGNI, BASIC SWORD UNLOCKED. STAMINA: 100/100.
The words, a brilliant, ethereal blue, exploded across the canvas of his mind. A mental interface, a familiar friend from a thousand late-night sessions, overlaid the swirling void. His heart, or what was left of it, gave a hopeful flutter. Aard and Igni, the most basic but most crucial of the Witcher signs, were at his disposal. A simple steel sword, phantom-light at his side, was also present in his mental inventory. He felt a newfound sense of purpose. A lifeline in the abyss.
"Inner monologue: 'Save the Dragon Queen?' Okay, so this is a Game of Thrones thing. Not just some generic fantasy land. The system, the signs… it's all there. My brain is going a thousand miles an hour. This is my second chance. And my purpose is a queen. A queen who, if memory serves, is about to have a very bad day. Well, I guess I'm a hero now. A cynical, sarcastic, monster-hunting hero. Better than nothing."
He scoffed inwardly, a bitter, sarcastic curl of his lip. He wasn't a knight in shining armor. He was a Witcher. He was a pragmatist. A killer. A man who hunted monsters. But… "Dragon Queen." That could only be one person. Daenerys. The Mother of Dragons. The Khaleesi. He knew her story. He knew her fate. He knew the prophecy. And he wasn't going to let it happen. He had a new purpose. A new life. A new game.
Pentos Arrival – Days before Daenerys's wedding, Pentos, evening Adam's eyes fluttered open. The darkness was replaced by a swirling haze of dust and the oppressive heat of the setting sun. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, exotic spices, and the sharp, metallic tang of unwashed horses. Distant drums beat a slow, rhythmic pulse, the sound carrying across the vast, rolling plains. He was lying in a patch of dry grass, near the outskirts of a vast Dothraki camp. He was wearing a rough-spun tunic and trousers, the simple fabric a stark contrast to the luxurious silks of the surrounding tents. The weight of his basic steel sword felt as natural as his own arm.
He saw them. Two figures, in the distance, near a gaudy tent. A tall, pale man with long, silver-blond hair was sneering at a young woman, no more than a girl, with the same silver-blond hair and a face etched with fear and resignation. Viserys and Daenerys. It was the moment from the first book, the first episode. The moment his new life was supposed to begin. The moment he was supposed to interfere.
"Inner monologue: There she is. The Dragon Queen. And there's the 'Golden Crown' himself. That slimy bastard. I've read about him, watched him. He's a sniveling coward who hides behind a woman. I'm not letting him get away with it this time. This isn't just a game. This is real. And I'm going to make him pay for every cruel word, every hateful sneer."
He took a few steps closer, the dust crunching under his boots. He watched as Viserys spat a cruel taunt at his sister, pushing her. He felt a cold knot of anger tighten in his gut. A familiar, simmering rage. He'd seen injustice before. He'd seen cowards abuse the weak. He wasn't having it. Not this time.
"Inner monologue: Time for a little magic. A little… prank. A public humiliation. I'll show this 'king' that he's nothing more than a fool. A walking, talking joke. A target."
Adam raised his hand, a small blue shimmer gathering in his palm. He focused on Viserys. The Axii sign. A simple mental compulsion. He'd use it to humiliate him. To show this 'king' that he was nothing more than a fool. A pathetic coward.
AXII SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: HUMILIATE VISERYS, 50 XP.
Adam watched with a grim smile as Viserys's eyes went wide and vacant. The man stumbled, his hand reaching for his crotch, and then he let out a panicked cry. He dropped the wine cup in his hand, a crimson splash blooming on his tunic. He then bent over, a forced, subservient groan escaping his lips, and began to lick at the spilled wine on the ground, whimpering like a dog.
A guard nearby gave a startled laugh, quickly stifled by a jab from his companion. Daenerys stared, her eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and bewildered relief. Viserys was on his hands and knees, a pathetic display of fear and cowardice.
"Inner monologue: That's just a taste, snake. You sell your sister to a savage and you get a little public humiliation. Your punishment is coming. Slowly. And it will be so, so satisfying. I'm going to make sure everyone knows what you are. A coward. A liar. A fake king."
Adam strolled casually to Daenerys. She was looking at him with a mixture of suspicion and awe. He noticed her fine robes, the way she clutched her sleeves, her hands trembling. He looked her in the eye and gave her a small, gentle smile.
"Inner monologue: Time to lay the groundwork. I'm her shield. She's my purpose. I'm not a hero, but I can play one for a while. Let's see how she reacts. I'm her hope. Her only hope. And she'll learn to trust me."
He knelt before her, as a courtier would, but his posture was all wrong. It was too easy. Too confident. "No warlord's taking you," he said, his voice a low, gravelly hum, a melody of steel and shadows. "I'm Adam Stiels, your shield."
Daenerys flinched at the sound of his voice, but she didn't look away. "Who are you to challenge Viserys?" she asked, her voice a whisper, but with an undercurrent of steel. She was scared, but not broken. Not yet.
Adam chuckled softly, a dry, humorless sound. He stood up, towering over the whimpering Viserys. "Someone who hates tyrants," he said, his eyes burning with a cold, predatory light, "and loves a good fight."
Viserys, still on the ground, shivered. "I… need more wine!" he cried, his voice a pathetic squeal. He licked at the dirt on the ground, a trickle of red from the spilled wine staining his chin. He was a broken man, and Adam hadn't even started.
Dothraki Ambush – Pentos outskirts, night The sun had set, and the night was thick with a humid, oppressive air. The scent of exotic flowers and spices was overshadowed by a grim, foreboding smell. Blood. Adam's sensitive nose, a Witcher's nose, twitched. He felt the familiar thrill of the hunt, a cold, calculated excitement. He was a monster hunter. And tonight, he was hunting men.
DOTHRAKI AMBUSH. HOSTILES DETECTED. QUEST: KILL 10 DOTHRAKI.
He had expected this. A Dothraki patrol, drunk on fermented mare's milk, their minds hazy, their blood hot, stumbling upon Daenerys and Adam. They would see her, a lone woman, a prize. They would see him, an intruder, a target. He had prepared. He had crafted a simple poison, a debilitating cocktail of herbs and flowers. It would weaken them, dull their senses, make them slow. He had already spent the gold on it.
"Inner monologue: A little poison to even the odds. It's not fair to fight them at their best. I'm a Witcher. We cheat. It's what we do. It's about survival, not honor. They want to hurt her? I'll make them hurt."
The Dothraki riders, all five of them, their arakhs glinting in the moonlight, charged. Their war cries were a cacophony of barbaric rage. Adam stood his ground, a shield before Daenerys. She was trembling, her hands balled into fists, but she didn't run. She stood behind him, a queen in the making.
Adam drew his sword, its cold steel a familiar friend. The first Dothraki warrior, a hulking brute, charged, his arakh a blur of motion. Adam dodged, a fluid, graceful dance. He didn't just move. He flowed. He was a storm, a whirlwind of steel. He dodged the arakh, a hair's breadth from his face, and then, with a flick of his wrist, he used Igni.
IGNI SIGN USED. STAMINA: 15/100. DOTHRAKI KILLED: 1/10.
A jet of searing flame erupted from his hand, a pillar of fire in the dark. It consumed the Dothraki warrior, his screams a high-pitched shriek of agony as he was reduced to cinders. The smell of burning flesh, the smell of death, filled the air. Adam's eyes were cold, his face a mask of grim determination. He was a Witcher. He was a monster hunter. And he was very, very good at his job.
"Inner monologue: Threaten her, and you're cinders. I'll make this clear to every single person who ever looks at her the wrong way. She's under my protection. And my protection comes with a fire-and-brimstone warning. They'll learn. Or they'll burn."
He fought with a brutal, almost savage grace. He was a whirlwind of steel and fire. He cut down two more Dothraki with his sword, their bodies crumpling to the dust, blood blooming on the parched earth. He used Aard, a sudden telekinetic push, to send another stumbling back, his head hitting a rock with a sickening crunch. The last one, his eyes wide with terror, turned to flee. Adam didn't hesitate. He used Igni again, a final, lethal burst of fire, and the Dothraki warrior was a smoking ruin.
IGNI SIGN USED. STAMINA: 15/100. DOTHRAKI KILLED: 5/10.QUEST COMPLETED: SAVE DAENERYS. 500 XP.
Daenerys stared at the smoking bodies, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and wonder. She looked at Adam, her gaze a silent question. "You risked your life," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why?"
Adam's face was grim, a scowl on his lips. He looked at her, his eyes cold and unwavering. "Because I don't let scum like him win," he said, his voice a low growl, a promise of violence. "Not when they try to hurt an innocent. Not when they try to take what isn't theirs." He turned and glared at Viserys, who had watched the whole thing from a safe distance, his face a mask of shocked horror. "She's free, snake," he said, his voice a lethal whisper. "You're a king in name only. She's the one with the real power. And I'm here to make sure she finds it. You and your petty schemes don't stand a chance. Not against a Witcher. Not against a queen."
Breaking the Betrothal – Illyrio's manse, dawn The sun was a pale, watery light, barely peeking over the horizon. The air was cool, the dust settled. Illyrio's manse, a garish display of wealth and opulence, was filled with the low murmur of servants preparing for the day. Adam and Daenerys were in a private courtyard, surrounded by the scent of exotic flowers and the quiet trickle of a fountain. Adam had dragged a whimpering, pathetic Viserys with them. Viserys was on his knees, his hands tied behind his back, his eyes wide and vacant. Adam had used Axii on him, a subtle mental compulsion to make him tell the truth. To confess to his crimes. To admit to the world what he truly was. A coward. A man who would sell his own sister for a crown.
"Inner monologue: Let the world see him for what he is. A pathetic, whimpering coward. He's not a king. He's a snake. He's a parasite. And I'm going to rip him out of this world, slowly. One humiliation at a time. The wedding is off. I've broken the betrothal. Now I just need to solidify her trust. She's my mission. My purpose. My queen."
Illyrio Mopatis, a fat, jovial man with a greasy smile, waddled into the courtyard. His face was a mask of confusion, his eyes darting between Adam and the whimpering Viserys. "My prince," he said, his voice a buttery coo, "what is the meaning of this?"
Adam's eyes were cold, his face a mask of grim determination. He looked at Illyrio, then at Daenerys. "He has something to say," Adam said, his voice a low, gravelly hum. "Something he's been keeping from you all. Something… important."
Viserys's face, pale and pasty, was a mask of utter agony. "I traded her for power!" he wailed, his voice a pathetic cry. "I… I just wanted a crown!"
Illyrio's face went white. Daenerys stared, her eyes wide with a mixture of betrayal and relief. The words were a knife, a betrayal of all she had ever known. But they were also the truth. The words were a confirmation of her darkest fears. And they were a release.
AXII SIGN USED. STAMINA: 10/100. QUEST: HUMILIATE VISERYS, 50 XP.
Daenerys's face hardened. She took a step forward, her chin high, her eyes a blaze of icy fire. She looked at Illyrio, a look of pure, unadulterated contempt on her face. "I am no one's pawn," she said, her voice a whisper, but with the force of a command. "The wedding is off. I will not be a trade. I will not be a sacrifice."
Adam gave her a small, approving nod. "Your fate's yours now," he said, his voice a promise, a shield. "You decide your path. Not him. Not me. You."
Viserys was sobbing now, a pathetic, whimpering mess. He tried to speak, to protest, but his words came out as a garbled mess. He was a broken man. He was a king without a crown. A man who had lost everything. And Adam had just begun.
"Inner monologue: This snake's days are numbered. He's a parasite. He's a disease. I'll let him live for now. But his life is a ticking clock. And I'm the one holding the hammer. He will get what he deserves. One step at a time. One humiliation at a time. I'll make sure he suffers. Slowly. And then I'll end him."
Adam turned and glared at Viserys, a look of pure, unadulterated contempt on his face. "Keep slithering, Viserys," he said, his voice a low growl, a promise of pain. "I'm watching. And I'll be here when you get what's coming to you."