Witcher: The Half Elf

Azeroth, Westfall

Riding atop Deathclaw Robin, Wayne moved slowly through the desolate expanse of Westfall. The landscape was more barren than he remembered from his last visit. Scattered along the roadside were skeletal remains exposed to the elements, abandoned wagons, and crumbling farmhouses.

It seemed that despite the passage of years, the nobles of Stormwind City had done little to improve the conditions here. Instead, the plight of the residents had only worsened.

Wayne sighed but remained emotionally detached. He had witnessed countless war-torn families and ravaged lands. Compared to the residents of the Northern Kingdoms in the Witcher world, the people of Azeroth still fared better.

Born from a world shaped by game mechanics, the humans of Azeroth were, in many ways, a superior iteration of humanity. They benefited from stronger physiques, richer resources, and more advanced living conditions than the medieval reality of the Witcher world.

However, Azeroth was also a land rife with danger. In the coming decades, cataclysmic events would strike the world repeatedly. Though the major races always managed to stave off annihilation, the suffering endured by its inhabitants was immeasurable.

As Wayne scanned the wilderness, his thoughts turned to his mission.

His primary goal was to find a master of the Holy Light—someone capable of neutralizing the infernal power festering within him.

His secondary objective was to visit Dalaran, the magical capital of human civilization, renowned for its unparalleled collection of enchanted artifacts. There, he hoped to acquire magical items to strengthen the Witcher Order.

Fortunately, Vivian's presence allowed him access to Azeroth's currency whenever needed. His appearance was close enough to that of Azeroth's humans to avoid suspicion, provided he exercised caution.

The real obstacle lay in the sheer size of Azeroth. Traveling from Westfall to the Eastern Kingdom, where Dalaran resided, would take weeks or even months via conventional means. Ships and caravans were unreliable, and finding passage was fraught with challenges.

The only viable alternative was using a mage's portal spell. However, such advanced magic was rare, requiring the expertise of high-ranking mages or even archmages—figures who could likely be found only in Stormwind City.

He also wondered if the cathedral of Stormwind City might house a Holy Light master who could aid him.

As Wayne mulled over his plans, dusk began to settle over the land. He was searching for a suitable campsite when he noticed a faint glow on the horizon. Turning his head, he spotted flickering flames and heard distant shouts.

Frowning, Wayne sharpened his senses. Within seconds, he discerned the sounds of clashing steel and frantic cries of battle.

It wasn't just a robbery—it was a fierce skirmish between evenly matched opponents.

The prospect piqued Wayne's interest. If one side proved useful, he might gain allies or valuable information for his journey.

Gently nudging Deathclaw Robin with his foot, he signaled for his mount to advance.

With a low, excited growl, the massive beast launched into a gallop, covering the vast distance in less than two minutes.

The battlefield came into view as they approached. Flames illuminated the scene of chaos: a group of well-armed individuals locked in combat with Defias bandits.

Wayne, standing atop the towering form of Deathclaw Robin, surveyed the melee with a detached gaze. His arrival quickly drew the attention of both factions.

For a moment, the combatants froze, staring at the imposing figure of the man silhouetted against the evening light.

The tension broke when a bearded officer in guard armor stepped forward, raising his voice above the din.

"Sir! I am Captain Genset of Stormwind City's Guard. We are under attack by Defias bandits—despicable scum who plague this land. Please, aid us in driving them off!"

The mention of Stormwind City immediately swayed Wayne's decision.

Though the Defias Brotherhood wielded considerable influence in Westfall, their utility for his plans was limited. In contrast, aiding the official guards of Stormwind could open doors to the city's military and magical elite.

After Captain Genset finished his plea, the burly man leading the Defias Brotherhood quickly realized the gravity of the situation. He raised his voice in desperation:

"My friend, we, the Defias Brotherhood, are not bandits! These bastard guards are the lapdogs of the nobles!"

"This fight has nothing to do with you. Please, don't interfere!"

Despite the leader's impassioned words, Wayne had already made his choice. He didn't spare the man a glance as he gently patted Robin's head.

The Deathclaw responded immediately, exhaling a cloud of sulfurous breath that filled the air with its acrid stench. With a low growl, the massive creature raised its head and opened its maw, unleashing a searing blast of orange-red flames.

The fireball, dense with heat and thick smoke, shot toward the largest cluster of Defias bandits with alarming speed. It struck the group before they could react, exploding with devastating force. The inferno consumed seven or eight bandits instantly, leaving charred remains in its wake.

The morale of the Stormwind City guards surged at the sight of this devastating attack. Emboldened, they roared and charged the now-panicked Defias Brotherhood.

Wayne dismounted from Deathclaw, landing on a nearby boulder with practiced ease. From his elevated position, he observed the chaos with detached amusement. Pulling out his bow, he began picking off the bandits who tried to flee.

The tide of battle shifted dramatically. With Wayne and Deathclaw on the field, the Defias Brotherhood stood no chance. Their earlier confidence dissolved into desperation as they faced overwhelming odds.

Some of the more cowardly bandits turned and fled, discarding their weapons as they ran. Others—likely the more fanatical members—stood their ground, brandishing their weapons with defiance and attempting to block the guards' relentless advance.

But their efforts were futile. In the face of Deathclaw's raw power, even the most heavily armored knight would be no more than a tin can, crushed with a single swipe. The beast's claws and fiery breath turned the battlefield into a scene of carnage.

Wayne, meanwhile, methodically released arrows from his bow, his shots swift and precise. He struck down seven or eight bandits in quick succession, but he soon found the task monotonous.

Deciding to step back, he ceased firing and watched the battle unfold. His sharp eyes took in the dwindling numbers of the Defias Brotherhood as they were systematically slaughtered.

He shifted his focus to the combat styles of Azeroth's warriors, observing their movements and techniques with a critical eye.

While their physical prowess was impressive—far exceeding that of the average soldiers from the Witcher world—their tactics and skill in combat were not particularly noteworthy. Their superior strength and endurance gave them an edge, but their techniques lacked the refinement Wayne was accustomed to seeing in trained witchers.

Among the dozens of combatants in the skirmish, two figures stood out: Captain Genset of the Stormwind Guard and the leader of the Defias Brotherhood. Both displayed a combat effectiveness far superior to that of ordinary soldiers.

What caught Wayne's attention was their ability to momentarily unleash bursts of explosive power during battle. This fighting style was distinct and quite conspicuous compared to the straightforward techniques of the other combatants.

While Wayne wasn't certain if this phenomenon was connected to the manifestation of "Rage" as described in World of Warcraft, it intrigued him. He made a mental note to investigate further.

The concept of Rage, as a unique source of power in Azeroth, seemed worth exploring.

Thanks to Wayne's intervention, the battle ended swiftly.

The Defias Brotherhood suffered heavy casualties. Nearly all its members, including their leader, were either slain or captured. The Stormwind guards emerged victorious, bolstered by the support of Wayne and the fearsome Deathclaw Robin.

As the dust settled, Captain Genset approached Wayne, gratitude etched on his face.

"Thank you, sir," the captain said earnestly. "Your assistance has been invaluable. You've done a great service to the kingdom's guards, and it will not go unnoticed. I will report this to the military authorities—you'll surely receive the recognition and reward you deserve."

Wayne nodded politely, exchanging a few courteous words with Genset. Their conversation then turned toward his origins.

"So, you're an adventurer!" Genset exclaimed, his tone filled with curiosity. "That's rare enough. But I've never seen an adventurer capable of taming such a massive dragon-like beast. Are you perhaps a professional hunter?"

The question caught Wayne off guard for a moment. The bow and arrows he used during the battle, coupled with his massive, obedient beast companion, did indeed resemble the archetype of a hunter in Azeroth.

After a brief pause, Wayne decided it was a convenient cover story.