Ch 1: The 3 Witcheroos.

"Shit Mark, Dodge, and use the grenades you idiot" Arthur half slurred as they were both high and drunk, him barely able to sit straight, let alone play Witcher 3 on death march.

"yoooo. pizza is readyum" Said Sam as he came in from the kitchen carrying a meatlovers still piping hot.

"munchies before hitting the hay. Yay!" Arthur said happily, the three of them were barely conscious Taking into account all the alcohol and weed we have consumed that evening

after a few minutes of us hungrily munching on the pizza Arthur smelt something weird.

"Guys, you smell that?" Arhtur asked, the food had sobered him up a bit.

"smells like gas," Arthur said while sniffing the air. "did you turn off the oven properly?"

"I think I did," Sam said as Mark paused the game, and the 3 of them walked to the kitchen. it stank of gas.

"Wait!" Arthur screamed as Sam turned on the lights. A loud noise, a flash of light, and just a fraction of a second of heat was the last thing He remember… before.

"what the fuck is this place" Suddenly Arthur was sober and looked at the endless white void he was in.

"hell if I know" Said Sam.

"huh?" Arthur looked around and saw Sam and Mark naked behind him, in the same places they were just a few seconds ago.

"what the hell?" Arthur asked the two naked friends, before looking down and realizing I was also in my birth suit.

"You got quite a tool, no homo," said Mark, and Arthur scoffed at his remark.

"soo. this is some kind of dream? Am I hallucinating?" Asked Sam.

"What the hell is that?" Asked Mark as he pointed behind Arthur. they turned around and saw three black dots in the distance, they seemed to get bigger, as if they were approaching them at high speed. they almost dived for cover, just so they would not collide with them, but they started to slow down quickly.

"Floating magic chests?" Arthur asked as he saw the work of art floating in front of him, the other two chests floating in front of his two friends.

"Not only did you blow us up by not turning off the oven, but you also laced the Pizza with LSD" Said Mark.

"This ain't the work of a hallucinogen, no vision blurriness or impaired motor function," Sam said as he looked at his hands and then did a cartwheel.

"let's see what in the name of all that is holy is this shit about" Arthur muttered as he approached the chest floating with an animation just like a loot box in a videogame.

"#1 Arthur" "#2 Marcus" "#3 Samuel"

"So what do we do?" Asked Sam

"Bruh, let's just open them and pray that there is some kind of clothes inside. do not want to be looking at your dongs all day," Mark said as he approached his box.

Arthur places his hand in front of the box and it starts to shake, it shakes violently until it bursts out with a mirage of colors, floating in front of him there is a Card, that looks like some kind of trading card from a tabletop game. but with interactive parts

"Geralt of Rivia (Edit)

Witcher (locked)

Race: Human Witcher [Mutate] (locked)

Skin: Geralt Of Rivia (Edit)

Gear: Wild Hunt (Edit)

Build: Wild Hunt (Edit)

Mount: Roach [Mare] (Edit)

System: Wild Hunt (Edit)

Equip Template? [Y/N]"

"Holly guacamolly." Arthur said as he played with the template. For all of the edit choices it allowed him to choose between all the games and the books. Some of them were walls of text. In the end, he chose the following setup

" Name: Arthur Anderson (Edit)

Race: Human Witcher [Mutate] (locked)

Skin: Arnaghad (Edit)

Gear: Wild Hunt [Ng+](Edit)

Build: Wild Hunt [Ng+](Edit)

Mount: Roach [Stallion] (Edit)

System: Wild Hunt [Ng+](locked)

Equip Template? [Y/N]"

Suddenly after choosing to equip the template the character card disappears in a cloud of golden dust and enters my body.

I groan as my body changes, it's not painful but rather highly uncomfortable.

"Wind is Howling," Arthur say with a deep rumbling voice. "Damm, I sound nice" Not that his original one was bad, but having the voice of a professional voice actor is really a perk thing.

he turn around and find My friends, "who the fuck did you choose?…" I remark. seeing Both of the other witchers that have just taken shape.

"Erland of Larvik" Said who I assumed was Mark from where he was standing

"Ivar Evil-Eye," Said Sam with a wicked smile.

"Damm it guys, I know we always argued at which school of witchers was better, but to choose three of the founders of the different schools… I mean Damm." Arthur says with a chuckle while scratching the back of his head awkwardly

A row of unique archways rose from the ground, it reminded Arthur of the Drifters anime. the only archway with something filling its interior had a swirling mess of black with blue traces resembling a magical portal.

"shit, do you think we should cross it? I hate portals" Sam asked seriously but could not help but joke at the end.

"look at the archway, it's obvious where it would lead" Mark pointed at the carved stone that made the archway, it had depictions of sword fights, some other sigils as in the head of a snarling dire wolf, a crowned stag, a hearth of fire with a crown in it. A roaring lion, a three-headed dragon…

"Westeros" Arthur muttered.

"three witchers walk into a portal, they land in Westeros, what do they say to the god of death?"

"not today" the three friends repeat at the same time.

"guess it's our only option. tighten up your buttocks and forward my friends."

They jumped into the portal as one.

—-

The army of the FreeFolk has been defeated. Elder Kline and her clan of shamans where desperate. If they did not manage to get the prophecized champions of winter their last hope would be lost.

They set up the carved stones in a circular formation. Delicate red totems carved out of Wierwood trees were carefully placed making sure that each totem was facing toward one of the 4 cardinal spots.

"Elder Kline. That is the last one" her grand-niece said as she brought a steaming cauldron of heated up Wierwood sap and looted it into the pool that made the gate.

She did not speak. But waved at her helpers to bring in the prisoners. All of them criminals that possessed the warging hability.

Their eyes have been cut out so the warg could not leave their skin, escaping the sacrifice.

Their throats were slit and their bodies were left to drain into the pool of sap.

Kline started to chant in the old tongue. Calling for the champions of winter. Heroes from The Old Age.

By the time the herbs have burned she knelt herself and her successor slit her throat.

Kline eyes turned glossy. In her last moments of consciousness, she smiled as she saw three figures jumping through the gate. She does at peace. Knowing that her life paid for her people to be saved.