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Harry Potter In The Witcher [29]
🕑 Added 2025-06-05 13:27:09 +0000 UTCYear 1251
Geralt's POV:
"A dragon?" Geralt asked, his voice carefully neutral, though a hint of skepticism was already there.
"Aye. A dragon. It's a big black one, it is," the grizzled old farmer told him, his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest, his expression a mixture of fear and belligerence.
Geralt just looked at the stubborn man, trying to gauge his honesty. Dragons were extremely rare, almost mythical creatures these days, hardly ever seen by anyone, let alone by some backwater farmer.
It was far more likely, Geralt thought, that this was a simple case of mistaken identity perhaps a large Forktail, or even a Slyzard, if the farmer was prone to exaggeration.
"Does it breathe fire?" Geralt asked, trying to puzzle out if this was actually a dragon, or just some other, less impressive, draconid.
"Well, it's a dragon, innit?" the farmer said, his voice tinged with what sounded like a growing, impatient anger. "So, I bloody well imagine it does breathe fire, doesn't it?"
"Sure…" Geralt said, letting the man’s rudeness slide for now. "Who has it attacked? Any witnesses still alive?" he asked, hoping to see if there were any credible accounts of its behavior, anything to substantiate the "dragon" claim.
"No one, not directly," the farmer admitted, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "It normally just… flies around the mountains up there. But since it's there, everyone's too damn afraid to cross the mountains and go to Rivia, where we can sell our goods, see? It's bad for business, this dragon."
"What's it been eating then?" Geralt observed, his mind already picking apart the farmer's story. "There's not much game up in those high mountain passes. It must have to come down sometime, for food. Surely someone would have seen that."
"How the hell should I know what it eats?" the farmer snapped, finally getting well and truly frustrated with all of Geralt's pointed questions. "Are you going to go kill it or not, witcher?"
Geralt thought about it for a moment. This really didn't sound like typical dragon behavior to him, not at all. In fact, he very much doubted it was a true dragon at all.
It was probably just some other, less dangerous draconid that these superstitious, ignorant farmers had confused for one. Still, a contract was a contract, and coin was coin.
"Alright," Geralt said, his voice calm. "I'll deal with it. I'll be back for my coin once the deed's done."
The farmer nodded, apparently satisfied now that he was getting what he wanted. "About bloody time you accepted," the farmer grumbled, as if Geralt had been deliberately wasting his precious time. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to go hire someone else." He said it like it was some kind of dire threat.
Geralt almost snorted at that, but he managed to keep his face carefully still, his expression unreadable.
There weren't many witchers, or anyone else for that matter, who would willingly go after a supposed dragon for the paltry sum this farmer was offering.
The real, professional dragon hunters, the ones who actually knew what they were doing, didn't even go after dragons for simple contract fees.
They went after them for a chance to steal their legendary, treasure-filled hoards, once they’d (somehow) managed to kill the beast.
As a general rule, Geralt himself tended to stay well away from true dragons. But in most cases like this, there were rarely any actual dragons involved.
Geralt moved towards his horse, a sturdy, reliable brown stallion he had, of course, named Roach. He mounted him smoothly and looked up towards the imposing, snow-capped Mahakam Mountains.
They looked no different than any other time he had passed through this region. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible kick to Roach's flanks to get him started towards the mountain range.
He knew there were usually some reclusive inhabitants, hermits or prospectors, who lived up in the lower mountain areas, so hopefully, one of them could point him in the right general direction of this supposed dragon's lair.
The climb up the winding mountain passes was surprisingly, almost eerily, peaceful. He had not encountered anything more dangerous than a few startled wild goats and some skittish mountain birds, all of which had scurried or flown away as soon as he had gotten near.
He hadn't even encountered any wolves, which should have been much more abundant nearer to the bottom of the mountain range. That was… odd. Still, he pushed on, ever upwards, towards the distant peaks.
Eventually, the narrow, treacherous pass got too small, too difficult for a horse to navigate safely, and Geralt had to dismount and continue on foot.
He was already quite high up at this point, the air thin and cold, so he wouldn't have to push much further to reach the highest peaks.
He was actually a little surprised he hadn't found a nest, or a cave, or some other sign of whatever creature was supposedly nesting up here.
There wasn't much mountain left above him, and that meant there was considerably less space for a large creature to have a suitably sized cave or a well-hidden nest.
Still, he continued on, his witcher senses on high alert. He had already taken the contract, and he always finished his contracts.
He pushed up higher and higher, the path becoming steeper, the wind biting at his exposed skin. He was almost near the very top, the air razor-thin, when he noticed it. A faint, almost imperceptible hum against his chest.
"Medallion is humming… hmm," Geralt said softly to himself, his hand instinctively going to the wolf-head medallion that hung around his neck.
He looked around, his yellow, cat-like eyes scanning his surroundings carefully. He was actually in a part of the trail where the narrow path had widened out considerably, forming a sort of small, rocky plateau.
To his left was the obvious, dizzying long drop down to the bottom of the mountain range, a fall that would kill anything.
To his right, however, there was a large, open, recessed space in the mountainside, partially obscured by a rocky overhang.
Now that he looked at it more closely, his witcher senses tingling, it looked almost… almost like the cleverly concealed start of a cave.
