AN: So I've been sitting on this for over a year now, and with the release of the series on Netflix I figured why not release this fic out into the wild. Thanks to
@Massgamer and
@RedrumSprinkles for the help on this.
__
You know you're going to have a bad day when you've had a bucket of piss dropped on you first thing in the morning.
You know you're going to have a shit day when that bucket had some actual shit in it.
That was how I started mine, violently woken up by the horrific sensation of fluids from god knows who being dumped on me in the middle of some fucking alley. It was God's own mercy that none of it ended up in my mouth.
Of course, none of that fucking explains why the fuck it happened in the first place.
Naturally, as the shock of that wore off, I immediately figured out why. Instead of the sunnily oppressive tin shacks of where I expected to be, I was staring at something straight out of some medieval town in Europe; cobblestone streets, ancient timber and stone homes and … well a gutter flowing with what I hoped wasn't bodily waste.
Where the fuck was I?
_
It took a bit of stumbling before I found anyone willing to even talk to me. To be fair, I wouldn't even give someone the time of day if they came up to me reeking of piss and shit. No hard feelings there. It'd be a whole fucking lot easier to remedy that situation if I could find a place where I could reasonably clean myself up.
Wherever I am, it's obviously medieval, and judging from the presence of that ever so reliable fantasy stereotype of the bearded dwarf, I'm pretty sure I'm not anywhere near home. This just narrowly narrows down where I am to a gazillion possible places. And that the place reeked. Wherever I started, it was probably the better side of town, since I had migrated from cobblestones to muck wet with god knows what. All the while, presumably, within the city's walls.
To top everything off, whatever sent me here just had to send me straight on from the office awards night. So my absolute best is now all ruined. Hope this is a place with magical laundry or shit. Most everything I've got is useless; a phone, charger, keys and wallet. Nothing that will hopefully get me out of this shithole.
The one good thing so far is that I can somehow understand the locals, speaking some sort of English. At least I hope so. Hopefully they understand me as well.
"Oi!" I heard as I turned around to face three mountains of men, easily a good head taller than me, and the stench of rum strong off them. "You look a little lost lad? Far away from yer noble parents?" they guffawed.
Well that confirms one theory. I had steadily been following the fresh breeze, hopefully away from the stink. Figured it might lead to a gate or river or something, and well... looks like this is a port town by the sea. Logically where there are ports there are sailors. Where there are sailors, there are inns and brothels.
Of course, there are good sailors and bad sailors, but these guys firmly looked like the shank you for hooker and beer money and leave you to rot kind. How can I tell? The dreadfully sharp looking daggers they were sporting kinda hinted towards that.
_
"Fuck," I muttered before I turned around and rabitted, running straight into one real big bastard.
He made the other three look tiny in comparison, hills to his Mountain. Easily 7 foot tall, and he looked like he would mutter "I must break you," any moment from now.
"Looks like he's got something to hide boys!" one of them roared as they approached me knives drawn. "Gut 'im and toss him in the sea! We'll be doing the world a favor, ridding you of you ponce."
I grew up in a bad neighborhood. There was no negotiating at this point. Only the run. I've nothing valuable, and some people will shank you for not having anything valuable at all.
Instinct took over as I rolled to my right, hitting the alley walls but narrowly dodging the Mountain's grapple. The other three didn't see it as any sign to rush so I desperately searched around for anything that could be a weapon. I settled for a bit of loose timber, an old and rotted that thing looked like it could come apart with one swing.
The thugs looked about as confident as I felt like I had a chance with my makeshift weapon. Not like I had a choice. In the narrow street, I found myself in, the thugs blocked both ways out and I didn't see anyone coming my way to help me.
Every bone in me screamed to fight. It was the only way I'd get out of this alive. Fear gripped me though as I struggled to keep my hand still from… well everything.These thugs trying to kill me, being fucking stuck in some back asswards town, and just not knowing what the fuck was going on. Fear, adrenaline, anger… all of it coalesced into one overarching goal that entered my mind.
Survive. Answers come later.
The loud one who'd kept talking went first, wildly swinging his dagger at me. I stepped back as everything just became… clear. He was an ugly man, scarred and tanned from many years under the sun, with a look of pure joy on his face as he charged forth with the dagger.
Before I knew it, my left fist sprang and hit his throat. Lucky shot. He dropped his knife and fell to his knees as his two other friends charged, hoping to overwhelm me.
I saw them coming from a mile away. I felt myself roaring wordlessly as I wove between the two knife wielding thugs. In their drunken attempt to knife me, one ended up stabbing the other in the leg, sowing confusion among them. I took the opportunity to dash out of the alley, running past the screaming the thugs as the giant chased after me.
For what felt like forever, I ran through a maze of muddy roads and stalls until I found myself in a large square, bustling life and music. People were hawking goods and services of all sorts and it felt like it was safe enough to rest and catch my breath. Then I turned around, and found myself face to face with a woman with blonde hair, striking blue eyes… and a pair of pointed ears.
"You're not from around here, are you chummer?"
"What's it look to you?" I panted as I tried to catch my breath. If she wanted me dead, I'd be dead I guessed so conversation was the way. Not like I expected trouble. We're out in the open, with witnesses and shit. No one's that stupid… I hope.
"You ever hear of Seattle?" she whispered as she drew close.
"Oh thank God," I breathed. Someone here was from somewhere on Earth. "Listen-"
"Not here." she shushed. "Follow me. I've got a place we can talk. Safely."
I nodded immediately. Sounds like whatever town this was, it wasn't a place one could talk without being listened in. A veritable hive of scum and villainy I bet.
With that understanding I followed her down the winding streets and alleys of this medieval city, careful to try not to attract any more attention than before. Eventually, the elf brought me to a wooden gate, sandwiched between two townhouses.
She led me on, motioning to keep my trap shut. I nodded wordlessly as she rapped her knuckles on the door. In moments a gruff man opened a small panel, and grunted.
"Sheep swear on the Pontar," my elven guide answered promptly. With a nod, he smiled and opened the gate.
"Welcome to the Putrid Grove," she smiled as she led the way in.
_
Name suited it frankly, beggars of all sorts hung around, from the legitimate cripples to the con artists, not to mention the thugs with sharp looking swords on their belt. Place stank of too many people living all together in one place, like sweat, piss and heat all coming together in one unearthly musk. This was a place for those who had nowhere to run, a home of last resort. The name of the place rang a bell, though I couldn't figure out why.
Either way, my elven saviour led the way towards a little out of the way corner townhouse, really more of a shanty as we drew in closer. The door itself leading inside looked the most solid part of the building. Inside the building didn't raise much more hopes. The ground floor was empty save for a dusty table and two chairs, and the stairs up creaked alarmingly as the two of us made our way upstairs, gradually escaping the smell of it all.
Things changed when we got up. Whoever my guide was, she was definitely not from a home I knew. A katana hung on one side of the wall, right next to an assault rifle and pistol. A bed, richly furnished with pillows and blankets stood on one corner, with a desk and chair beside it.
"Welcome to my humble abode," she smiled. "Honestly, you look corp through and through but I'm just happy to meet someone from back home instead of the shithole that is Novigrad." she sighed as she settled herself on the bed.
"Uh yeah… corp." I muttered taking in what she said. Novigrad… that meant the Witcher. The most important thing right now would be to figure out just when exactly are we. Radovid's purges and shit wouldn't be something I'd like to be caught unprepared for… but most importantly there might just be a way home. Ciri. The Lady of Space and Time, might be able to get me out of this shit hole.
If we're in the right time.
I turned my attention towards the elf who led me here. Tall, and certainly pretty, once she relaxed, she seemed like your stereotypical elf… with the attitude of someone who was God's gift to the Earth. Course with someone I can vaguely relate to, I'll gladly do whatever she wants for now. Then I took a closer look at what she had on her, from the weapons to her mannerisms.
Chummer, Seattle… and the weapons. Familiar yet not, they looked like something out of a sci-fi movie… and it clicked.
"You're a Shadowrunner," I muttered.
"How'd you guess chief?" she snapped her fingers. "What you're seeing was the haul from my last job before I ended up here. Supposed to just be a milk run but…" she shrugged. " Irony is I'm rubbish with all of those here. I'm a mage, and the only thing I was supposed to nab was the sword. Some mystic blade for some gang leader who was plenty willing to pay good nuyen for it. All of it to be stolen from a fake mage's shop with more credits than sense. Everything else was just gravy for me… and insurance. That with my Astral Sight and", she clicked her tongue, "nothing's safe."
"I understood like half of what you said. Like the fuck is nuyen?"
"You know… money? Where are you from anyway?"
"2019, last I checked." I replied. Don't know how that'd be taken in by her. "And the shit over there is literally nothing I've ever seen. And I've never heard of elves on Earth before… but-"
"You're from 2019 post-Awakening, but never heard of Mages… which means we're both not only displaced in time, but dimensionally." She muttered as she grabbed a notebook. "Locals write in a totally different alphabet, cost me a job's worth to get one of the local mages to teach me the drek they have as a system," she muttered as she grabbed a tome from beneath her desk. "Come on, you've heard of shadowrunners even way back then so list what you know in your time. I'm no historian, but I know enough of the basics to get some idea of how dimensionally fucked over the both of us are."
So I told her. Top of my head, most important stuff from war on drugs, terrorists, Facebook, Apple, tech news shit like that. Not to mention the shit politicians.
"You have something that can prove you're not running high on BTLs or other drek?" she asked as she drew out what looked like a futuristic Blackberry, complete with keyboard. I nodded and handed her my own phone as she took a look at the device, fascinated in both its familiarity and alienness.
"We've definitely diverged somewhere further than just the Awakening," she muttered as she twirled it around her palm. "Technologically, this thing you're holding is about as powerful as a deck if I'm not mistaken. Not really my forte of course, so I'm probably wrong but it's certainly ingenious in its user friendliness. All glass touch screen? No need to plug your head in to access the database in its fullness? Not to mention… Huawei? Something this good came out of a company that I've never heard of before… Your story both doesn't and does add up."
"I'm just telling God's truth friend," I shrugged as I tinkered with her PDA. "Meanwhile your PDA's… very old school in design, though I'd wager it's tougher than my own phone. Though of course you guys have the whole cloning, cyborgs, and 3D shit going on so who am I to judge on where tech's gonna go."
"What do you expect? Betcha corps spy on you through the phone for research,"
"Not a bad guess," I shrugged as I caught my phone. "Information is key. They call it Big Data now, sifting through millions of bits of data to sell everything better."
"And make more money for corps," she mumbled. "Guess you're on the way to that still… But something's not adding up. I can feel it."
"There's one more thing…" I hesitated. Bandage out now might be better. "Fuck it, I know about Shadowrunners because your world is like an RPG setting for us."
"What, like something straight out of some holovid?!"
"I guess? More like video game or pen and paper sort of shit." I shrugged.
"The Sixth World is a drek place for escapism," she started. "There's fresh air here, I haven't had soy anything in forever and I've seen animals that I can reliably be sure will end up as my meal versus me being its." she smiled before scowling… letting that hang in the air. "Still… the fact that you know a lot about my world and I know nothing about yours… I mean…. There are infinite universes out there, infinite possibilities. Juist never considered my life being a fucking RPG setting would be one, but hey, there are bound to be weirder things around.." she sighed. "Still though… something about your world's familiar. I just can't quite place it yet."
Probably something related to ancient history for her. Like chances are at minimum she's at what, 2060? In the Sixth World? 40 years is a long time by any measure. Besides, shitty early history to her, is my everyday.
Or at least it was. Hopefully soon, it will be again.
"It could be worse," I shrugged.
"How?! You saying that most of the places outside these walls is infested with magical critters that will make mincemeat in so many seconds?"
"Well yes, but I was more on gonna say was that it can always be worse." I shrugged again. "For instance we're here now in Novigrad, ground zero for the next anti-human pogroms.."
"Oh fuck me." she muttered. "Humanis just has to be fucking everywhere?! Just something to add to my list of problems."
"Well the anti-human bit is more for your benefit really. On top of that, they also don't like magic users, so you're a twofer right there. The local cult, the Eternal Fire, fires of hell blah blah blah, long story short they use this anti-magic material called Dimeritium. It works wonders on the local sorcerers, but I have no clue if what you and they do are remotely similar."
"Fuck. Problems on problems…." she grumbled before turning to face me. "Wait… you know things about this world that I don't and I've been stuck here a month already."
"Easy, it's a video game to me. I'm more worried at your mention of problems. How bad are they? And do they mean you're fucked if you leave town?""
"Short answer, yes. Long answer, we may owe money to a crime boss here… A lot of money."
"... who's we?"
"See, one reason beyond me picking you up, was that as a fellow from the Sixth world, I figured I could use your help. Even if you were a corp wage slave, I figured you could run circles businesswise with my help to make the money I need… With you instead being what I'll call dimensionally distressed…"
"I'm not seeing a reason why I can't take my chances outside…"
"Not true, you've just told me the future after all." she grinned. "You know what's out there. I'm a, unknown and known quantity. A mage to your squishy non magical self. And worst comes to worst, someone who has a gun," she smirked as she lifted her leg showing an ankle holster and the mean looking pistol in it. "Don't worry, it's protection for both of us. Not a threat. It's protection against just about any creepy crawly you can imagine. Ares' has got to be right about that."
"Okay… where do I come in?"
"You know the local landscape better than I do. That should be enough. If along the way we find you've got other useful skills or talents, that's a bonus."
"Only if I can figure out when we are. I mean, is Radovid even King of Redania? Because if he isn't we're up shit creek."
"Bald, possibly mad? He most definitely is."
"I need more than that, has Foltest been assassinated? Have they caught the killer?"
"Yep. Word is people from all over are gathering at a place called Loc Muinne to discuss the fate of Temeria. It's all the Town Crier's been raving about in the market."
"Then we've only a few months before the pogroms against non-humans and mages really start. Soon after that summit, mages there will be massacred, then Nilfgaard begins it's war for the North and then on top of all that I mentioned earlier, the surrounding area will become a battlefield as both sides vie for control."
"So where's the safest place for us to run then? Soon as we get rid of the debt, right quick, we flee."
"We can't leave. Not if we want to leave this world." I sighed.
"What do you mean? Then what the fuck was all that warning about then? Oh no all these peasants with their torches and pitchforks are all gonna have me burned alive somewhere if we don't leave. Let's stay here and have them all cook us alive."
"The warning was well, a reminder to not show off and advertise what you are. We can't have attention from either the still powerful sorcerers or local priests. We need to wait because soon, our way out of here will arrive. We help her in her quest, we can probably get her help home. "
"Quest? Are we about to make a deal with a dragon? Because if so I'm out and the door's-"
"No, nothing like that. It's just Prophecy." I sighed again as I took a chair and settled myself in. "We help her achieve her Destiny, save the World blah blah, point is she can get us to any world out there that isn't here. She's got that power. And of course problems along the way."
"Fucking Prophecy? And how's that any better?"
"I kinda know who and what's involved. So we'll have some guarantees. Can even avoid some of the nastier monsters to come. Like we do not want to be in Velen at all. There's another one to avoid, but if he comes, we'll know and you'll know it's the same deal with Dragons with him."
"Got it."
"So who do you owe money to anyway?"
"Whoreson Senior," she shrugged. "The how's don't matter. What matters is we need coin fast. About 1000 orens."
"That's… a lot of money," I gulped. "I've no idea where we can get that amount without pissing off someone. And there's the fact you owe money to Whoreson. "
"Ah but maybe you do. I'm a Shadowrunner. I do deniable jobs for money. For that, we need a Johnson, and a Fixer. You know what those are right?"
"Yeah… I don't have any scores, but maybe… maybe I know someone who can help us at a reasonable cost." I replied, tenting my hands.
"Who?"
"The King Of Beggars," I smiled. "He's one of Whoreson's rivals, and is a cleaner and smarter sort of criminal in my opinion. Maybe we can help each other out. Best part is,if I recall correctly, we're in his territory right now, so paying respects is just proper."
"Good job," she smiled as she tossed me a blanket. "You're welcome to stay here omae. What's your name anyway?"
I hesitated before replying. "Jesse. You can call me Jesse."
"Get some rest Jesse. I'm Jackdaw. Tomorrow we look for criminal royalty."
