AN: Well guys here is the big fight scene you have all been waiting for! Please excuse any crappy grammar, and on the topic of grammar I have an announcement. I am currently looking for a Beta so if anyone is interested in the position please PM, I could use the help with overlooking these chapters so PM me and we can talk about it.

Now this is my first huge battle scene, and I was trying to catch the volatility of medieval combat, where one step means death so I hope I captured that. Tell me what you guys think, was there to much detail, to little detail, to short, to long, not enough description, all that stuff.

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones or the Witcher series, they are owned by G.R.R.M and A.S.

Enjoy!

Geralt watched as blood slowly dripped from the tip of his blade down onto the cobblestone road. Eight bodies were collapsed around him, some bifurcated at their stomachs allowing their sinuous intestines to pour out, and others missing their heads. The one dark-skinned Dothraki trapped underneath the door was still alive apparently, though the forking through the gut will kill him soon, but not soon enough. The white wolf stalked forward as the downed warrior clawed himself away screaming in his home tongue, but he was to slow. The blade descended and found purchase inside the soft temple of the savage, he stopped crawling.

The opening salvo has been taken care of. Now Geralt will prepare for the next wave, and this one will surely be larger. Already he could hear more clopping hooves on cobblestone as horses galloped towards him, they will be here shortly. The monster hunter breathed deeply into his lower stomach and expanded his senses, he will fight at his max.

A group of Dothraki on horseback were giving war cries as they rushed towards him. Geralt was surprised to see an arrow enter the head of the vanguard charger and watched as he collapsed from his horse, but this did not stop the horselords. Three allied archers are spread out on the rooftops providing the wolf and the village some support. Even a few groups of guards were fighting further up the main road, it seems he will not be completely alone in this battle. Their distractions may save his life.

The scythe like arakh came swooping towards his head from horseback, but a duck allowed him to escape danger and sever the leg from the horse. His three fellow horselords suffered a similar fate as their horses lost their legs to a streak of white and gold. They were on his level now, Geralt noted as the screamers arose from their collapsed horses.

Each one foolishly struck at him sequentially, but he was able to block and avoid each strike gracefully. These warriors fought with a savage intensity, however their group tactics needed more polishing. One requires more than savage intensity to bring down a witcher, brains are also needed.

"ARGH~!"

The yell of pain came from the Dothraki that just lost his right arm and arakh to the claws of wolf. The man tried to run towards the way he arrived, up the cobblestone road, but an arrow entered his throat before he could escape.

The witcher was low to the ground as he charged forward at the rest of the group. Each sword strike that exploded from his body was part of an intricate dance that allowed him to flow from one opponent to another. There was no hesitated movement in his deadly dance of death, and every attack found the flesh of his enemies.

Schlikt! Whoosh! Swash!

Dark red blood shot in the air not unlike a geyser from the lifeless Dothraki soldiers. Geralt's tunic was no longer just white.

As the hunter turned his head to see more of the approaching horde and pillaging mongrels, he could not help but feel cornered. Normally in this type of situation the witcher would use guerrilla tactics and move about the town while attacking. Strike hard and fast while running through alleyways to get the enemy off his trail. However, he could not afford that. If this area is left without his protection, Mira and the children would be in harm's way. All it would take is one greedy Dothraki looking for coin and that would be the end of the family.

This is something the white wolf would not allow, for this pack is under his protection, and no harm shall befall them so long as he breathed. Yet this also left him at a disadvantage, these Dothraki don't seem to have anything to lose. They are living for this slaughter, so they will attack endlessly. Geralt's willpower will allow him to persevere though, for while the Dothraki have nothing to lose, the wolf cannot allow his current den to fall. These savages are entering hallowed ground now, they will suffer the price.

A new cluster of savages are now approaching him, but this time they were more cautious. It seems they witnessed what happened to their fellow killers, and they learned from their mistakes. Good for them, bad for him. Geralt kept his blade up as they slowly encircled him with their group of five. It seems they will try striking together this time.

One came from the back, another from the front. A simple pincer that was solved by ducking under the slash from the front and stabbing the man behind him in through the groin to the stomach. Geralt kicked forward and knocked the other from his feet before leaping into action against the other three. Swords clashed a multitude of times to produce a singing of steel, but soon that singing turned to shrieks of pain as one Dothraki felt his ribs and lungs crash into sharp steel, he could no longer breath. The other two, standing side by side, tried attacking Geralt from behind but their lower jaws and chins shattered into a shower of bone, blood, and gore. Their now long tongues gurgled in a confused death rattle at the steel they never saw approaching.

The last Dothraki that rose from the previous kick was breathing harshly as fear entered his gaze. Yet he still stood to fight with his arakh in hand, brave, but foolish. Geralt's blade reached the sky before it crashed down hard into the shoulder of the Dothraki. He tried blocking the executioner's blade but it split him from shoulder to hip, as blood gushed onto the britches of the wolf. He watched as the light of life exited the Dothraki's eye, and to the wolf these savages finally seemed human in death.

That distraction came with a slight cost to the hunter though. He heard the footsteps approach from behind so Geralt quickly rolled away, but not without a wound. A shallow cut that reached from shoulder blade to hip, the rider will pay dearly for that, Geralt thought as he gained his bearings.

Yet the rider came striking again, he would not let his prey escape. This time the wolf was ready, so he parried the strike and pushed out with his free hand to grab the Dothraki by the throat. However, what Geralt planned did not occur. A translucent blue force exploded from his palm and crashed into the face of the dark-skinned warrior. He went tumbling back more than a few feet and lost some teeth in the process, it seems the man is out cold.

Geralt looked towards his hand in shock. He has no idea how that transpired, another oddity to add with his recent memory lost. Does he control magic at the tips of his fingers?

"Maegi!"

The wolf turned to see that a group of Dothraki spotted him performing this mystical act. He could see the slight tremor in the hands that held their arakhs, he must kill them quickly before they spread their foolish words. He has no idea how the others will react to this new found power, and from the look the Dothraki gave him it would not be a pleasant reaction.

He charged forward in a sprint with his sword trailing behind him, and he saw one of the Dothraki take a few steps back. Good, that fear will be used to his advantage. Gwynbleidd clashed with the Dothraki in front, their steel grinding against each other. He watched as a fellow rider tried slicing him from the side, but Geralt was prepared. He grabbed the leather lapels of the Dothraki he was stalemated with and threw him into the path of his fellow soldier's sword. The blade sunk deep into the skull of his ally, but it did not deter the fellow rider as he pulled out his blooded arakh. Apparently they have little care for the lives of their allies, as long as they kill the enemy the Dothraki win.

Geralt took a few steps back before initiating one of his graceful death motions on the remaining four. He moved forward to execute and he did so with water flowing movements. Each time the Dothraki struck the monster slayer moved like smoke to avoid their blades, and when he did a sword would find its way into the throats, eyes, and bodies of the horselords. They all began to fall into a puddle of their own life.

The slight stinging wound that was on Geralt's back was negligent now that adrenaline rushed through his veins. The wound… That reminds him, a quick stab through the throat of the unconscious rider made sure he will never speak again.

With that screamer dead, the monster hunter turned his attention to the rest of the horde. Only two of his allied archers remained, for the other seemed to have experienced an ill fate at the hands of the Dothraki archers. Some more groups of town guards seem to be living, but they probably will not last long.

More work needed to be done, luckily Geralt was a professional. He always prided himself at being able to do good work.

"Mercy-!"

The arakh in his hand crashed into the skull of the of the lamb guard with a wet crack. Ko Pono has no time for mercy, especially for weak lambs. The man wielding the now bloodied blade had a dark braid with bells that went to the middle of his back. The only reason he needed it cut was because of his defeat at the hands of the great Khal Drogo, otherwise Ko Pono was a beast in combat.

Standing at a rather tall height with a full beard and a hairy muscled chest that was covered in slight leather and horse skin garments, the dark skin warrior produced an imposing aura. One needed to be imposing to be a Ko, a lieutenant, in the army of Khal Drogo. It is Pono who was tasked with the capture of this part of the city and he shall do so swiftly.

"Do not waste time, kill the lamb archers!" He barked his orders in quick Dothraki to get his soldiers moving. He will continue to travel down the road and collect more heads, for this is their way.

A group of three lamb guards came running up towards him with their short swords, and every time they swung at him the Ko would shift and slide to avoid. One of the guards overreached and that gave Pono the opening he needed. A quick swipe of his blade cut out the guard's larynx, and he followed through with his motion towards the other two. A clash of steel occurred but when Pono removed his dagger, the man's life ended with a stab in the heart. The other guard tried escaping in fear when he saw his two allies meet their lamb god, but Pono would not allow that. His dagger flew from his hand and landed into the back of the coward's skull, and he fell forward promptly.

The Ko scoffed in disgust at their pitiful display, this town will fall in a matter of moments. They cannot stand up to their full force.

"You!" Pono pointed to the group of five Dothraki screamers behind him, "Come with me, we will take care of those pesky archers!" They followed his command without complaint nor hesitation. As they should.

Together they traveled down the main road, slaughtering any sheep that came their way. Soon they were able to find some archers on the roofs of huts and buildings. It was because of these archers that the Ko lost many of his forces, and he was not even completely to the south-east side of the town yet. These archers were smart by staying up on the huts of both sides of the main road, but once they are taken care of the town will fall.

Pono pointed to the archers in his group and ordered them to fire until they are dead. The Ko himself will go and flank these annoying flies. So he ran off the main road into the alleyways and began to climb the back of a hut a current archer was firing from.

Once to the top he crouched and snuck up behind the lamb archer, a quick swipe of his arakh finished him off with a decapitation. Ko Pono picked up the discarded bow and arrows and began ending the lives of the other archers from the roof. He was able to end six archers with his marksmanship, because Pono was just as good with a bow as he was with a blade.

When he was finished with the archers in his sight he began to order his men from the roof, "Move forward! I do not want to see a single lamb guard standing or your scalps shall be mine!" Pono was a ruthless commander, that's why he always got results.

His forces push forward with a war cry and they began to savagely attack the lamb guards. This was what made the Dothraki fearsome, not their bows, not their arakhs, not their horsemanship, it was their zealous bestial nature. Their passion for blood and death made them feared all across the lands, and these sheep will feel their passion. With an arakh to the throat.

The Ko will stay back for now and watch. He has already lost well over a century of his forces but it seems he will need no more. So he went down to the main road and began cleaning up any foolish leftovers with a group of ten of his best fighters.

They went about making crude jokes as they ended the lives of anyone barely living, as well as pillaging homes for goods and coins. It was moments like these that Ko Pono greatly enjoyed, the aftermath of a crushing victory. Taking the spoils and being known as the strongest horse in the stable. It made the Dothraki immensely proud.

He was out on the main street when a lone soldier of his came running towards him in a panting breath.

"My Ko," The soldier could barely breathe as he talked, "There is a demon-man on the battlefield, and he is slaughtering our forces… I've never seen such a monster."

Pono could see the fear in the man's eye, and he wonders what kind of demon this man speaks of, "Well what are you waiting for? Take me too him!" Apparently the Ko will have to take care of this himself.

The man answered with a right away, and Ko Pono with his group went forward to kill this warrior. At least the rest of his forces were able to take care of those archers and guards, so there would be no unwanted surprises.

When they reached the battleground the Ko witnessed a brutally magnificent sight in his eyes. The cobblestone was painted over in massive splatters of Dothraki blood, and the corpses expressed the story of what happened here. It reminded Ko Pono of a human butcher shop, by having limbs, torsos, and heads strewn over the grounds with organs being the spices. Over five dozen dead Dothraki littered the ground, more than a quarter of his forces falling to one man.

And that one white haired man stood in the center of it all; his clothes painted in the blood of Pono's soldiers. Blood even scattered across his face forming a demented tribal paint, and in his left hand was the hair of a slowly dying Dothraki kneeling on the road. The beast eyed being still had his blade protruding through the neck of the soldier as he slowly choked and died on the cold steel. That was until he forcefully ripped out the blade and threw the body to the floor; this was done while gazing directly at the Ko.

It would have haunted any man, and even a few of his soldiers stood uncomfortably, but this could not help but excite the Ko. It seems he will be experiencing a challenging like no other, a true demon to slay. He smiled as he rallied up his soldiers with a few words, "Gaze at what we have here! A tale to tell our children as we slaughter a demon brought into our world! Will my fellow soldiers back away now when we've finally been presented the gift of challenge!?"

They howled in excitement, his words bringing up their courage. He may be a ruthless man, but he has the charisma to incite his soldiers for a fight.

"You," He pointed the soldier that fetched him, "Go and bring Khal Drogo here, he would want to see the head of this demon after we rip it off," He sounded very sure of himself as he said that, but it was mostly a front. Reinforcements may be needed given the deadly strength this warrior possesses, but he must not allow his soldiers to know that. False courage was still courage in a way.

"But my Ko, he is miles awa-" He stopped speaking when he saw the deadly look Ko Pono gave him, "I will return as quickly as possible," He ran off in a hurry, hopefully he can find a horse and get to Drogo quickly. It was only the group of Dothraki and Geralt now.

Pono ordered his group to encircle the man, they will fight together to bring down this demon. It was a good thing he trained many of the warriors with him, their group tactics were impeccable.

Geralt lifted his blade and prepared for another fight, but this one would be different. He could tell by the steps these warriors took that they are seasoned veterans of battle. They were light on their feet and had a dancers grace to their movements, especially the bearded one that was speaking in that rough Dothraki language earlier. The wolf would have to stay on his toes in this battle.

Pono pointed to four of his ten warriors and told them to attack, it was time to test the strength of this warrior and see where his skills may lay. Any information he could glean would be beneficial for this battle.

They charged as one from all sides, but Geralt quickly rolled away from the killing ground in the middle. He cannot allow them to set the pace, so the wolf will be moving and striking in a guerrilla fashion. Once he recovered from his roll Gwynbleidd leapt towards the first attacker in his path and they clashed steel shortly, but Geralt stole a dagger from the side of the Dothraki and proceeded to cut out his throat with it. He used the same dagger as a throwing knife that plowed into the eye of another soldier before exchanging blows with the other two.

It seems this warrior has some skill, thought Pono. However the Ko will not just let his men fight so he charged in as well to provide some support. Once the Ko entered the battle, his soldiers will fight with him.

Geralt's brief exchange was interrupted as he heard the whistling of steel approaching from behind. Evading death by Pono, the wolf escaped the circle they tried to trap him into, it was time to start striking back harder than ever.

Each warrior though would not let up their assault. Every time the wolf tried to attack back he was forced on the defense, these men fought with a synchronization unlike the groups before. It was hard trying to find a gap in their defenses while Geralt evaded and blocked each sword aimed at his body. He needed an advantage somehow, I believe I found what I was looking for, Geralt smirked as he thought.

He kicked up a dismembered arm from earlier and it hit the face of the Dothraki that chased after his blood, it provided him a moments worth of distraction but a moment is all the wolf needs. When the screamer proceeded to rub the blood from his eyes, it was the last action he ever performed.

A blade pierced through his heart and Geralt used the body situated on his sword as a quick diversion, kicking it towards two other Dothraki running at him. Their lives ended as well when the wolf pirouetted through their defenses, his blade ripping away their souls.

However, it seems his attacking of them left an opening in his own defenses because Geralt felt a burning sensation enter his side below his kidney. This sensation can only be caused by a blade, and the wolf rolled away quickly enough to note that he had been slashed, and it was rather deep because it bled immensely. The blood loss will not stop him though, not now.

Some more Dothraki came for his blood but Geralt shot up to meet them, his left hand shooting forward to use his new found power. It came to him like second nature and the translucent blue light pushed forward knocking down the three riders. They were easy kills now and Geralt took that opening with pleasure as his blade cleaved towards them, ending the savages.

In his hurry to take their lives Geralt forgot to check his back, but he heard the blade come after him. So the wolf leapt forward in a roll to evade, however his upper calve was caught by the curved blade. It left a profound impression that forced a limp in the wolf's strut, and now it will be difficult to fight with this disadvantage as he prepared to end the final three opponents.

"You damn devil maegi, you will die here today!" It seems their bearded leader was quite livid with Geralt, but he could not tell what he said in that rough language of theirs.

"I don't understand you savages, just attack so you can die," Geralt was goading them into making a mistake now, and it seems like his words worked.

The final three charged in a blinded rage, apparently witnessing their allies die at the hands of magic or the insult set their blood to boil. Good, that means they will be sloppy. The wolf took a deep breath and prepared to perform swordplay that eyes could barely track. He would have to stand his ground considering he could only limp now, so when they struck he would be ready.

The first strike was pushed away and Geralt used the ponytail of the warrior to his advantage. He grabbed the man and threw him near the others path tripping their footing. However Pono was ready for such a tactic, and leapt over the other two. He and Geralt exchanged blows but it was only a briefly, a taste of what would come.

Gwynbleidd pushed him away and limped back to gain ground when the other two returned, but this time their pride was wounded as they charged. The overhead strike was foolish of them as Geralt slid to the side leaving one of them open to receive a decapitating strike that the wolf pounced on. He pushed the now headless body onto the other Dothraki and stabbed through it towards the heart of the other, they were both dead now.

The monster hunter was forced to pull out his skewer when Pono came to murder him with a side sweep. Another quick slide while favoring his wounded leg allowed him to evade, and now only Pono remains.

Both he and Geralt stared at one another waiting to see who would take the first step in what could be their last altercation.

"Your name," Geralt was surprised to hear what was asked of him in common tongue. Apparently this man knew some of the language.

"Geralt, and yours?" This could be the last man he ever sees, may as well be cordial with him.

"Ko Pono," No more words will be exchanged, their mutual respect of each other came from the interchange of names. Pono prepared to fight as he lowered himself slightly and lifted his arakh.

Geralt was also ready as he leaned forward with his sword in hand, he would wait for this leader to attack. Only then would he slay him.

The Ko of Khal Drogo exploded from the ground like a catapult, he would try to end this in one exchange and no more. The white wolf met his sword strike with one of his own and their interplay of lethal swords would make minstrels sing tales if they had witnessed.

Instead of two blades being visible in the ensuing battle, four seemed to morph forth. Their dexterous skill in the art of combat would leave many speechless as the battle continued into a torrent of swirling vigor.

Chink chi-chink! Clank-clink! Swash shiiing!

The noises were produced at such a rapid pace that one's ears could barely keep up to the sounds created from the colliding steel.

The only way this exchange of fatal thrashings will end is when one opponent initiates a mistake, and this mistake occurred at the slight overreach of the great rider.

Taking advantage of the arakh that passed by the hunters shoulder, Geralt struck with an uprising blow that cut open Pono's torso from hip to shoulder. The attack made the man stagger backwards into a fall, no longer able to stand as he spewed up blood.

It was magnificent duel; that the witcher could agree upon.

"I will…" The Ko began to speak in Dothraki, Geralt could not understand what his final words were, "be joining…the Night…lands…" After his words the leader stopped moving, his heart affected by the blade that shredded his organs.

The wolf stared at the chaos he wrought, roughly six dozen of dead Dothraki and a few wounds to show for the task. Now that the adrenaline of combat is wearing thin, the wound on his side and leg began to pulse angrily. The bleeding near his kidney was in a harsher condition than he anticipated, and it could lead to serious problems. However, he needs to get Mira and the kids out of the village now, while the roads were empty of Dothraki forces. They will escape by the river and head upstream, anywhere away from here was better.

He limped over to the side of the hut near the window of the room they stood in, Geralt will grab them from there and then the escape will begin. Once his hand landed on the side of the window he heard the quick sucking of air and a gasp.

"Mira…" He began with just that as his head appeared in the window, "We must leave; hurry."

The wolf saw an absolute look of relief pass by the mother's face, as tiny pinprick tears began to form at the side of her ocean blue eyes. She grabbed her children and quickly ordered them through the window. Each child grabbed onto the hand of Geralt as they climbed through the window.

Geralt quickly turned to Rakos, "Cover your sisters eyes, she does not need to see this," The boy nodded his head and grabbed his sisters head and pushed it into his tunic while whispering into her ears. She nodded her head and closed her eyes, it seems she had no desire to observe the battleground as well.

Once Mira was through the window she harshly grabbed Geralt by the face and proceeded to suck the life out of him with a kiss. The wolf responded in kind, and neither cared to be seen by the eyes of the children. When she let go she spoke in a whisper to him, "I thought you were going to die, thank the Shepard you are still here," The hunter only smiled and hugged her close, but the time for pleasantries is over. They needed to move, and now.

"Come we must make haste," He grabbed the farmer by the hand and proceeded to trot down the main road in a painful limping jog. They cannot stay here any longer.

"You're bleeding Geralt," Mira was worried as she saw the blood seep through his hand clenched over his side, "that wound needs to be taken care of."

"Later, right now we must leave," They were not moving as fast as he would like, this damn limp, Geralt thought. He needs to hurr-.

A multitude of clopping hooves entered Geralt's earshot, and a ball of ice collapsed into his stomach.

He quickly turned his head behind him in time to see a rather large cluster of horse riders turn the bend on the main road. The horselords were charging towards their group, and Geralt was forced to stop and prepare.

"Everyone get behind me!" They had no time to run for the river, the Dothraki were closing in on them too quickly. So Geralt raised his sword for another battle, however he noticed a sharp stinging pain shoot through his side at the action. These wounds will greatly hinder him, I do not know how this will play out now, the wolf was now worried.

Mira stared on in dread, they were so close! Why now, just when they were going to get her children to safety. Dothraki were truly the bringers of despair in her life.

The makeshift family watched as over twenty individuals slowly trotted forward now that the group was spotted. The lead in front vaulted from his horse and landed on the butcher-like battlefield. He was a large man that had a braid which flowed to his buttocks, a Dothraki leader of some sort Geralt could tell. Only a leader carries such an aura of dominance and battle grace.

Khal Dorgo looked upon the death field with a keen eye…He appreciated it immensely. Sure many of his men were part of this graveyard, but he gave much respect to strength. It was a Dothraki custom, because the stronger your opponent the stronger the individual will become. If one man was truly the artist which painted this deathly scene, then the Khal wished to see who the better painter was.

His eyes fell on the white haired man guarding a family, this was the man. The veteran warrior screamed inside his soul at the sight of this beast. Yes, judging by his stance and those predatory eyes, the mighty Khal was in for a test.

When the wolf gazed upon the rest of the group that came with the rider, he noticed a silver haired pregnant woman among them. Instantly his wolf medallion began to shake at her presence, and the monster hunter noted this oddity. The medallion only shook in the company of the other amulet so why her? Is she connected to it somehow, does she know who he is? However, Geralt had no time to ponder such questions because the main rider began to speak.

"You," The man pointed towards him and spoke in common tongue, a lot of these Dothraki seem to be capable of the speech. "You are the man who butchers my men and kill Ko Pono," It was a statement not a question.

"And if I am?" The monster slayer kept his voice even with his dry pitch, best not seem unconfident in the presences of this man.

The leader smirked at the reply, "I must return welcoming you give us," The man's smirk turned into a grin of battle lust as he pointed his arakh towards Geralt. "Otherwise I not the Great Khal Drogo!"

Geralt heard Mira's sharp intake of breath at the name, and that was all the confirmation he needed to know this man is deadly. If Mira reacted to his name, then the leader was well known.

"Stay back and do nothing rash," He whispered to the family behind him, "If you perform any sudden moves the other riders will come for you." He stared at the mother from the corner of his eye to make sure she understood his words. When she nodded her head Geralt turned back to the other warrior and slowly started moving forward to meet him in the center.

The great rider could see the limp in the man's step and how he catered to his side more than the other. It seems he received some injuries in the battle before, but so did Drogo. However Drogo's were nowhere near the same extent as Geralt's, considering the Khal still had good function of his sword arm and legs. The old maegi healing spells worked well.

When both of them met in the center they prepared to enter a duel of death. Geralt looked towards the other Dothraki nearby wondering why they did not get involved, however the Khal answered his unasked question for him.

"Worry not of the others, they just watch," Drogo could see the question in the beast like gold eyes so he decided to placate the man's worries, "Only I and you shall dance for death."

Both stared at each other without hesitation and lifted their swords to signify their ready state.

Drogo shot forward first.

A few moments before…

Daenerys Targaryen rode at the side of her husband as they began to close in on the location they were headed. From the stories she heard about this white haired man he was quite the skilled warrior. Able to cut down multitudes of Dothraki signal handedly, but she was wondering why such a Valyrian looking man even lived in this area? Maybe she could find out more of Westeros or he could even be a Targaryen, but she knew she was the last one. She still had some hope though and she will have her answers soon enough, as long as Drogo does not murder him.

When they made the turn around the bend of the main road they came upon the battlefield. Dany hesitated to call it a battlefield, it seemed more like a Dothraki executioner's palace with all the body parts decorating the road. It almost made her sick, but she has gain a tolerance for such sights now. After all, she watched as her own brother's head became incased in molten gold while he screamed in high pitch. A crown fit for a king such as him. It was a pity because Dany only wanted what was best for him, too bad he could not see past his greed.

When she laid eyes on the man they were searching for, she witnessed he rose his blade in protection. What he was protecting was a family, a grown women and three children. One was a young girl and the others two older boys. It seems that this mysterious white haired man has a family to protect, and he would cut down droves of Dothraki in making sure they were alive. It was quite sweet actually, it seems a true knight stands before her.

The khaleesi's heart went out to them, but this is the way of war. Nonetheless, when the white haired man's eyes found their way to her, Dany almost gasped. Such mystical gold dragon eyes… Does the blood of dragons run through his veins like they do hers? Sure they are not violet or indigo like many Targaryens, but only someone of magical descent can have dragon eyes like him. Who is this mysterious fighter?

Before the heir had a chance to even ask these questions, Drogo was off his horse and speaking to the warrior. It seems a battle is about to take place and Dany could not help but worry as to whether her sun-and-stars will live.

She climbed down from her horse to get a better view from the sidelines by being up ahead. Ser Jorah joined her at her side as the loyal guard always did. She was glad to have his presence to calm her down slightly, but her heart still thumped madly at the sight before her.

Both warriors are now ready to kill each other, and she could only watch how this battle plays out. She hoped that her lover still stood at the end of this, for to be without him would cause her heart to shatter. Only time will tell.

Drogo was the first to shoot forward, and the white haired man met his blade with Drogo's arakh. Each time Drogo's sword flew to his opponent it was stopped in midair by a longsword. Enraged by the defense the man put up the Khal began to dance around his opponent, using his advantage of mobility over the witcher.

The riders braid whipped around him as his arakh came striking like lightning towards the wall like defense. This time the white haired man was limping back, losing ground as he tried to parry. Dany could tell that the man was injured and seemed to be bleeding quite a bit. This injury will be detrimental in his battle with Drogo.

Geralt could not believe the skill this man possessed, the rider hardly seemed human with his massive power and deceptively fast agility. It would be a difficult fight because he lacked the momentum and adrenaline from his previous battles. His wounds were much more prominent now because they had the time to show themselves, for it is easier to maintain momentum then build it.

It doesn't matter, because Geralt must win. For if he fails, the family behind him will suffer a fate he does not wish to imagine. He used this enraging thought to his advantage and began his counter attack. He waited for the proper moment while keeping up his defense and found it when the arakh came rushing down on him from overhead. Geralt met that blade with an uprising strike of his own pushing the blade back and surprising Drogo.

Gwynbleidd tried to leap forward and finish him off but his wounded leg lacked the power needed for this. So the witcher was not quick enough with his downward swing and the Khal was able to evade by leaping back and gaining ground. When Drogo felt a sting he saw a shallow cut pass down his sternum, he would have died had he not evaded.

"Good you are," Drogo complemented, "But defense will not let you live, and your wounds makes you weak. You will die here." He was threatening as he spun the weapon in his hand.

The wolf did not speak and lifted his sword noting the massive pain in his side, it was difficult holding this blade now as he panted with labored breaths. The rushing of this fight also caused his blood to pulse quicker, making him bleed more and lose stamina. He needs to end this.

Drogo was cautious now as he stalked in a circle around the beast eyed man, his braid flowing behind him. Geralt made sure to constantly keep him in his sights, losing awareness of this opponent meant death.

This was a strange battle in the eyes of Dany, for even wounded this man almost killed Drogo. Never before has she witnessed such skillful combat, for these two are matched. The thing that terrified her though was that Drogo was matched by an opponent who could only use one leg and could barely lift his sword. Such skill was unnatural, which made her pray for the Khal's safety.

The great rider has a plan for their next clash. When Drogo came in and their swords collided he made sure they stood together and grinded steel. Staring directly into the gold eyes of his opponent the Khal's knee came exploding towards his wounded side. It hit its mark.

Geralt cringed in pain as his wound's heat increased tenfold as it ripped open more, however he responded with a left hook of his own. The Khal's head felt a sharp crack as his face turned to the side, but before they broke up their encounter Drogo kicked forward and hit the witcher in the lower stomach knocking him back.

When the wolf lost his footing Drogo struck with a side sweep that left a cut across the chest of Geralt, but it was superficial. However, the great Khal did not let up in his assault and used the rotation from his swing so he could set his shoulder and came barging into the chest of the white wolf pushing him back.

The monster slayer ended up tripping over a discarded limb from the previous battles and landed harshly onto his back while hitting his skull on the stone road. He felt a giant's foot crash into his sword hand forcing him to release the longsword and watched as it was kicked away. How ironic, Geralt thought, tripping over dead Dothraki, it seems even death they serve their Khal. The witcher's world spun as he gazed upwards towards the towering man and watched as an arakh was pointed at his throat. It seems the blood loss affected him more profoundly in this battle than he anticipated for he could barely see now.

"You lose demon eyes," Drogo enjoyed this battle immensely, it was a shame he could not fight the man at full strength. For the Khal wondered if this victory was even pure, fighting a man who has one foot in the grave. Yet it matters not for this is the way of war.

He lifted the blade up and prepared to execute the man below him-

"WAIT!"

A black haired woman came running onto the battlefield and kneeled next to the head of the white haired man, "Please! I beg you, do not kill him!" She had tears in her eyes as she held the man's head and stared up at Drogo. The Khal was barely moved, if he stopped murdering someone at the wailings of women the world would be overpopulated.

"Move!" Drogo commanded, she would make a good slave though. No need to kill her.

This fool! Geralt's mind screamed towards the woman, why was she performing this foolish act. It would change nothing.

"Please, you Dothraki have already taken so much from my family, and now you come to take more from us still! Just let us leave we want nothing to do with you!" She felt the hands of her children on her back now. They decided to stick close to her as they too begged for sympathy.

The Khal was getting angry now, it seems they wish to die together so be it. They will meet their god hand in hand in the afterlife. He prepared to slaught-

"Drogo," This calm voice came from behind him this time, forcing him to look back at his khaleesi as she approached him, "Allow me to claim this family as my slaves."

Once again she enforces her power as khaleesi to perform kind deeds, it seems this family's begging got to the heart of the moon of his life. However the Khal will not let this family slide without reason, "You use power to treat the weak; it will not go over well with others."

It seems Drogo will need some convincing before acquiescing to her request, "Would it not be greater to be known as 'Drogo the demon enslaver', you will show your might to the whole of the khalasar as well as those on the Dothraki Sea. And you will have the proof to show for it." She needed this man alive, he may have answers to her questions about his status. Is he a long lost Targaryen or something else with those magical eyes?

"Also, it will please me," She finished her reasoning with that, Drogo always tried to please her.

The Khal frowned towards her before barking orders to his soldiers. They went to fetch the chains so they would not try to escape, "You are too kind, others will take advantage," Drogo stared at his moon while he stated that. All she did was smile and thank him, the dragon will always get her way.

Once the chains were grabbed, they placed them on the family, but Dany noticed that the white haired man was in no good shape travel right now, "Fetch me the godswife," She told this to Ser Jorah and he nodded.

"Why…" Dany turned to see it was the black haired mother, still cradling the man's head in her chained up hands, who asked her this.

"Because I wanted to," She needed no more reason.

Mira scoffed, "So now we will be slaves to be used at the pleasure of savages," she spat on the ground, "I would rather die."

"No," Dany's voiced contained such harsh commands that Mira sat up straight and looked her in the eye, "That will not happen, because you are under MY protection," She made sure that the mother understood that.

Mira stared up at her in skepticism, not knowing whether the silver lady is lying or not. She could only take her word and hope for the best. As long as her children are safe she will be happy. She looked back down to see that Geralt lost consciousness, the blood loss and the rough events of the day finally catching up to him. She could never thank the man enough for all that he has done, so for now she just proceeded to kiss his forehead.

Dany heard someone scream something in Dothraki and looked back to see Mago, the rapist, came stomping onto the battlefield towards Drogo. It seems he is quite distressed.

He was having an argument in Dothraki with the Khal, "You let this foreign bitch once again cloud your judgment and allow this devil into our midst! You are no Khal, you are a fucking craven with no cock! A man ruled by his wife!"

Mago pointed his arakh at the Khal while he stated this, apparently he seeks blood now.

The Khal threw his arakh on the ground and roared in Dothraki, "You raise your disgusting tongue to me! I will make sure no one burns your body for you to ride to the Night lands with honor!"

Drogo charged at him barehanded, dodging each strike launched at his person.

"Beetles will feed on your body, as the worms crawl through your skull!"

He grabbed the wrist of the man swinging at him and took his arakh from him, "You have no right to hold this blade," Drogo proceeded to rip out Mago's throat with his own blade. He made sure to rip out his wagging tongue from the hole in his neck, he will no longer speak to a Khal in such a manner again.

He held the tongue up to the rest gathered, "Does anyone else wish to wag their tongue at the Khal do so NOW!" No one said a thing.

Drogo will remain undefeated to this day.

(Unkown Area)

"Sir, I have found a trail as to where the amulet leads, in a few more weeks I will find the world where it resides," Aelle always had great respect for his leader. A man such as the red leader deserved nothing but respect.

"Good," He was happy to hear the report, it seems he will be meeting Geralt again quite soon.

"Sir, will you be telling the king?" The King really wanted to know the current situation of the amulet.

"Don't worry Aelle, he will know everything soon enough…" Aelle could not help but think that was rather ominous.

AN: So how was it?! Everyone seemed to think that Geralt would just own Drogo right off the bat, and while I do agree a healthy Geralt could murder anyone in the GOT universe 1v1, this was not 1v1, this was like 1v70. So yeah, if anything I think I made Geralt to OP. Just so you guys know there are humans in the witcher verse that have killed witchers. Leo Bonhart being one of them, he actually killed three so yeah there's that. And Drogo is a damn good fighter, after all he is undefeated for a reason.

Well now that, that is out of the way tell me what you guys think. Was the fight scenes crappy, characterization off. To much detail and description, to little detail. Any constructive criticism will be helpful, because the better writer I become, the better chapters you guys get to read.

Well till next time!