Knights & Dragons

A Dungeons & Dragons TV Series/Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice & Fire crossover fanfiction.

Summary: a hapless young man goes on an old amusement park ride and is transformed into a Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice & Fire character and lands in a world called the Realm where he meets a group of youngsters who are trying to find a way back home.

…

Chapter 1: Arrival and First Meeting

I woke up with a start. I sucked in air as I bolted upright to sitting position in what I could only assume was a bed. Almost immediately I threw up some bile onto the sheets and then I noticed my surroundings. From the looks of it, I was in some kinda of old shack or shed and I thought that the healthcare system must've been really shit if I was tossed into some place like this. The musty scent of wood, mould and hay hit my nose making me cringe at the smell. I realised that I had no shirt to cover my chest, nor did I have any underwear on when I looked under the sheets. But that wasn't the worst part.

I still had a penis if that's what you're wondering, but it did look different from mine. For one thing, the pubic hair wasn't dark, it was almost a dark silvery blonde colouration. I'd either gotten very old very quickly, or there was something more sinister going on.

I also belatedly noticed the state my belly which originally was a fairly large size but was now flat as ironing board. I would almost be jumping for joy that I had lost weight so much, if I wasn't so freaked out by how I had found myself in this place. I then spied a mirror with a wash basin in the far corner of the room. Swinging my legs out from the bed to stand on the dirt floor, I could feel the dirty and gritty sand beneath the soles of my feet and toes as I tried to walk over to the mirror.

I fell over taking the first step and it was sheer dumb luck that I managed to stick my hands out in front of me to stop myself from hitting the floor face-first and possibly breaking my nose or teeth which would be a pain and horribly expensive to fix.

After I managed to stand to my feet again and slowly walk (read: hobble) over to the mirror and wash basin, I splashed some cold water on my face before taking that first fateful look in the mirror.

I nearly keeled over in shock when I saw who was looking straight at me in the mirror. It was a fairly young-looking man with silver blonde hair and deep purple-blue eyes that were so dark they were almost black in colour. The guy in the mirror almost looked like he belonged on a poster of some teenage girl's bedroom wall or on the cover of a teen magazine. And like I said, he looked fairly young. Eighteen or nineteen if I had to guess whereas I was twenty-eight years old, well and truly into adulthood.

I raised my hand and the guy in the mirror did too. I touched my face, so did the guy in the mirror. I began to realise with mounting horror that the guy in the mirror was me. I almost fainted. Almost.

I splashed some more water on my face in a vain attempt to wash away whatever hallucination or nightmare I was going through. I looked in the mirror again, but no change. I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath and counted to ten then opened my eyes but that did not work either. I even tried to pinch myself, but it was no use.

I then started to retrace my steps to how I found myself here and with an entirely face.

"Okay… think… what was the last thing I did?" I asked myself. Bit by bit, I remembered that I was at an amusement park where I had gotten on an old amusement park ride, mostly because I didn't want to get on other rides with all the screaming bratty children. It was an old ride that looked like it was made of pure tetanus, but I got on it anyway because I wanted a car to myself and to get away from the crowd, if only briefly. The ride was called Dungeons & Dragons which I had thought was a blatant copyright infringement which would have the Dungeons & Dragons franchise suing the hell out of it for breaching copyright. The old car's gears were clunky and rusty as all hell and the animatronics were falling apart. But at least I didn't have to share a car or ride with a bunch of screaming toddlers.

Then I remembered a bright light as the car was lifted in the air and sucked into what I could only assume was some kind of weird cosmic blender. Then the pain started, and I felt myself shaking and sweating bullets as I remembered the feeling of my body, skin, muscles and sinew being torn and ripped apart then welded or crudely stitched back together. Looking at my reflection, that might have explained why I looked like the way I did now. I didn't know if my new appearance was worth the pain I had gone through, but I half hoped it was or if there was a way to change me back. Come to think of it, I hoped I could even go back home and that led to the question that I should've been asking; where the hell was I?

But, first thing's first, I had to find something to wear. I couldn't prance around starkers, although I imagine with my new looks, some girls wouldn't object too much. But I'm not very good with nudity, even if I now possessed a face and body that would've had girls screaming and clawing each other's eyes out to get a piece of like I was a K-Pop boy-bander. I searched around for some clothes and I found some old rough spun pants and shirt with a hessian rope for a belt. I was honestly reminded of how most fantasy RPGs start out, with the protagonist starting off with rough spun clothes that hardly qualified as armour. And knowing my bad luck, I would run into something really big, nasty and with a bad case of the munchies with only my fists or a stick or a rock for a weapon as soon as I stepped out the door.

After dressing myself, I decided to see if there was a world outside this room. However scary it might be, I had to know what kind of world it was out there and if there was a way back home in it. I quickly found the doorway and I stood in front of it. The feeling of butterflies in my stomach made feel like being sick again and the anxiety of going out into whatever world was beyond this door was getting to me.

Did I mention that I suffer anxiety and depression and am a paranoid schizophrenic? I didn't? Oh… Well, in any case, anxiety was certainly getting to me at this very moment and the little voices in my head were whispering to me.

"It's okay… you can do this," I said to myself as I drew in a breath and summoned my last reserves of courage before putting a hand to the latch. Lifting it with a gritty sound of rusty metal grinding against equally rusty metal, I opened the door.

Light streamed in through the doorway as the door slowly swung outwards. I scrunched my eyes shut as the bright light hit my sensitive eyes, but after a moment, I reopened them and saw the outside world.

It was a village. A regular old medieval peasant's village with thatched straw roofed huts. A few people wandered around along with some animals of farm variety such as chickens, pigs, a couple of goats and a cow wandered about in fenced off pasture. I must have been gawking like an idiot as a particularly wizened looking man hobbled up to me.

"Ah, yer awake," the old man said in a wheezing voice and grinned showing a couple of missing teeth. The rest were all dirtied, chipped and yellow. I tried hard not to be sick or recoil in disgust at the sight of those teeth. I'm not normally someone who judges by appearances alone, but sometimes the appearance of dirty or otherwise unclean looking teeth was very off-putting. "We thought we might have ta bury ye," the old man added with a wheezing laugh.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," I replied sarcastically. "Where am I?" I then asked the old man.

"This 'ere is our village of Nuffinmuch," said the old man. I pursed my lips and asked, "Alright, and where is Nuffinmuch?"

"You don't know?" said the old man looking at me like I had sprouted another head or stupid.

"I wouldn't have asked if I did know," I bit out a little rudely.

"Yer in the Realm," said the old man.

"The… Realm?" I parroted.

"That's what I says."

I looked around. I could feel anxiety well up in my stomach, but I took some deep breathes to try and calm myself down before I had a panic attack.

"Okay… so, who found and brought me here?" I then asked, trying to be pragmatic about this as possible.

"Oh, Dungeon Master found ye, youngster," the old man told me.

"Dungeon Master?" I repeated the name in disbelief. "And who might that be?" I asked.

"That would be I, young one," said a voice beside me. I looked and saw a tiny little old man, a dwarf if by height alone, with long white hair but the top of his head bald as a newborn baby, wearing rich red robes and a smile present on his face.

I tried not to jump out of my skin. My heart beating erratically, I asked, "Okay, who the hell are you? What am I doing here? And why do I look like this?" I had asked all three questions burning on my mind. I really wanted an explanation to them.

"I am Dungeon Master, I brought you here," replied the tiny little man with a smile.

"Okay, but why did you bring me here?" I pressed.

"I brought you here to help bring down a great evil threatening the Realm," said Dungeon Master.

"Okay… so why do I look like this? I mean, I'm not complaining exactly, but why change me to look like this?" I asked.

"I did not exactly change you, so much as put your mind and soul into another body," Dungeon Master answered cryptically.

"Put my mind and soul into another body? Whose?"

"You will learn in due time, young one. We have more pressing issues to tend to," Dungeon Master said.

"Like what?" I snapped out irritably.

"Well, your attire for starters," Dungeon Master said with a chuckle and with a jab of his finger, a golden ribbon of light shot out from his fingertip and hit me before I could voice a protest. In an instant, the rough spun shirt, pants and hessian rope belt transformed into a shirt of chainmail with a tabard, leather trousers, a pair of sturdy looking boots and fingerless gloves and a soft leather belt. I looked at my new attire; it was better than what I just wore since I got here, so I certainly wasn't complaining about it. In some way, I kinda resembled a knight's squire or medieval man-at-arms. But I probably should've been more concerned by the fact that the tiny little man could use magic!

"Okay, new attire is good, but what's the catch?" I asked. I may not be the most well-versed person in the ways of the world, but I knew stuff like this didn't come free and that there was always a catch involved.

"It's quite simple, really," Dungeon Master said. "A group of young adventurers will pass through here soon. They are from your world, same as you, trying to find their way home. You must journey with them and help them find a way home," he explained.

"And it's not that simple, is it?" I asked sarcastically.

"Indeed, no," Dungeon Master said. "Great evils stalk the Realm, chief of which is Venger, a powerful sorcerer and master of the black arts. He has many agents, spies and minions to carry out his will, so be cautious of whom you trust," he added.

"And how do I know you aren't Venger in disguise? You did say the guy was a sorcerer and you clearly can use magic," I pointed out.

"True enough, young man, such powers of observation will help you in the journey throughout the Realm," Dungeon Master chuckled, nodding his head in approval. "But in any case, proof of trust is needed, so I shall give you this." Holding out in the palm of his hand was a simple golden ring.

"A ring to turn me invisible?" I joked. Dungeon Master would certainly be short enough to be a dwarf or hobbit.

"A ring that will help you ascertain whom can be trusted," Dungeon Master replied. "If it grows cold on your finger, you will know the presence of evil lurks near. If it grows hot, then goodness radiates nearby. Such a tool will be invaluable in your journey," he said.

I hesitantly took the ring and slipped it on my finger. I didn't turn invisible like I had joked about, but the ring did grow warm on my finger, so I guess Dungeon Master was a good guy. Unless of course he was lying about what he said. But I guess I had to figure that as I go and trust the little guy for the moment.

"Okay, so how will I recognise the people you spoke of?" I asked Dungeon Master but to my consternation and worry, the little guy had vanished when I wasn't looking.

"Perfect…"

The little man could've given me some indication of how to recognise this group of people he spoke of. But if they were from back home, they shouldn't be too hard to recognise.

But in the meantime, I needed something to do to kill time. If fantasy RPGs taught me anything, then a little village like this will have a tavern or a notice board. A tavern might be a good way to pass time, but I wasn't much of a drinker and I didn't have any money to spend, unless I gave up the ring I had been given or my new outfit. So, a notice board would have to do and with any luck, there may be some odd jobs that could give me a little money then I could go to the nearest tavern and buy something to eat.

The noticeboard wasn't hard to find. It was in the middle of the village which was a crossroads of pathways leading in and out of the village. So, I looked at the noticeboard, seeing if there was any sort of work being offered. There were a few advertisements scrawled on pieces of parchment, but there were a couple of jobs. One job offered a position at the blacksmithy, another was asking for someone to help load wagons and another asked for help with picking crops. I took the wagon loading job offer and following the instructions on the parchment, I walked through the village and found a man in his thirties.

The man noticed me and asked, "Aye, what might I do for ye?"

"I saw your notice," I replied right away. "You were looking for someone to help load wagons?" I asked the man.

"Aye, that I am. Follow me."

The man led to a small barn where crates were stacked atop one another and there were a couple of wagons.

"Job's simple, really," said the man. "I need an able-bodied young man to load these crates inter the wagons so they can be delivered to the next village," he explained. "Load 'em all up without breaking any, and I'll give ye ten silver pieces for the job," he offered.

"I'll take it," I answered.

"My thanks, lad. I'll be in the house, come to me when yer done," the man said and he then walked off towards a house near the barn.

I looked at the crates and rubbed my hands together.

After nearly an hour of stacking the crates into the wagons as neatly as I could, without breaking any, I went to the man's house and knocked on the door. The door opened and the man looked at me and asked, "Is it done?"

"Yep, all crates stacked and ready to go," I replied.

"We shall see, won't we?" the man said as he walked over to the wagons. He inspected each one, muttering a little and I tried not to look anxious as he did.

After a moment, the man nodded his head in approval and dug out from his pocket a small pouch that jingled with the sound of metal and handed it to me. "Honest pay for honest work," the man said.

"Thanks, have you got any more work needed done?" I asked.

"Not right now. Come back on the morrow and I may have work for ye again," replied the man.

"Right," I muttered as the man walked back to his house.

"Not exactly like a fantasy RPG. Things take a little time here," I muttered to myself. But at the very least, I had some money to spend. And those young people from my world hadn't arrived, or at least I had not noticed anyone arriving, being that I was busy stacking crates which took a fair amount of attention.

I then decided to go see the blacksmith and earn a little more money. The blacksmith's shop wasn't hard to find as I could see the black smoke coming from the smokestack. I was greeted by the scent of white-hot metal and ozone as I entered the shop. Hammering away at a piece of metal on anvil was a short stout looking man with a medium length grey beard wearing thick leather gloves, apron, trousers and boots.

"Ummm… excuse me? Are you the blacksmith?" I called out over the sound of metal hammering against metal. The stout mad stopped pounding at the anvil before using a pair of tongs to drop the glowing red metal object into a trough of water. The water hissed and steam billowed up into the air as the man turned around to look at me.

"Aye, I'm the blacksmith of this village. What brings ye here? Need a weapon forged? Some armoured repaired?" he asked.

"I saw your notice," I replied.

"Ah, been wondering if someone would take the job," the blacksmith said, nodding his head. "I needs someone to work the bellows fer me while I work. Simple enough, really," he added.

"Tell me how to do it, and I'll do it," I said right away.

"Good, I like that!" The blacksmith nodded in approval. After a few minutes of showing me how to operate the bellows, the blacksmith had me working them as he set about on working on something. I didn't know much about blacksmithing, other than watching some YouTube videos of the Forged in Fire series, but I thought to myself that the smith was working on some kind of tool. Perhaps a sword?

As I pumped the bellows, sweat poured from my brow as I pulled up and down the lever while the blacksmith worked. The man gave me directions as to whether he needed more heat or less. After an hour of pumping the bellows, the blacksmith bade me halt and I was quite relieved as my arms were sore and my body was drenched in sweat.

"Good work, lad. A fine job ye did," the blacksmith said to me as he pulled out from the forge what he was working. After he set the still glowing object into water, the blacksmith pulled out from his belt a small pouch. "Here ye are. Ten silver pieces," he told me as he pressed the pouch into my hand.

"Thank you," I said gratefully as I tucked away the coin pouch into my pocket. I made a mental note to but a wallet or money belt to store whatever money I earned.

"I'll be able to finish what need's doing on me own fer now. Best of luck to ye," the blacksmith said. I nodded and left the shop.

I was now tired and sore not to mention a little hungry, so a drink and some food sounded great right now. And if I could have a shower or bath, even better. I made my way to the tavern where I entered the establishment where an assortment of men and women, locals if I was right, spending their hard-earned coin on food and drinks. A few patrons stared at me as I walked up to the bar, but they made no move to stop me. I stood at the bar and waited for the bartender to finish serving a customer before he came up to me.

"Welcome, young sir, to the Spotted Hog. What can I get for ye?" the barkeep, a portly fellow with a brown beard, asked.

"What do you have on offer?" I replied.

"We have some freshly made beef stew with brown ale, or we have some roasted pheasant with blackberry wine, or there's some vegetable soup," the barkeep replied.

"How much for each?"

"Two silver coins for the stew and ale. Six silver coins for the pheasant and wine. And one silver coin for the soup.

"I'll take the soup," I said, not wanting to waste too much coin.

The barkeep called for one of the serving girls to bring me a bowl of vegetable soup. I was then served a bowl of vegetable soup which didn't look too bad all things considered. I took it and found myself an empty table and began to eat my soup. It was tasty as soup went, but I had a feeling that the stew or the pheasant would've tasted much better. I slowly slurped down my soup, enjoying a moment of relaxation whilst I could, because if playing hours and hours of fantasy RPGs has taught me anything, any minute now, a band of ruffians and ne'er-do-wells would burst through the door and pick a fight with any outsiders, and I was certainly an outsider.

And sure enough, entering the tavern was a group of rough looking men wearing leather armour, armed with an assortment of weapons from shortswords and cudgels. "Innkeep! Vodka!" ordered one of the men.

"We ain't got any vodka," said the owner nervously. "You drank the lot two days ago!" he added.

"And you didn't think ter get any more?" snarled one of the ruffians. "Are you asking fer us to burn this place down?!" he spat.

"No, masters! It-It just takes a week fer the supply wagon to bring more vodka here!" the innkeeper babbled.

"Whaddya reckon, lads? Should we burn this place down and head off somewhere else?" asked one of the ruffians out loud.

"Please, kind sirs! Don't destroy me livelihood! I gots a family!" the innkeep pleaded.

"Well, you shoulda thought of them before you ran dry of vodka!" replied one of them, one with a particularly wicked scar on his cheek.

I watched the scene mutely. Some moral part of me told me to intervene and try and convince these men to move on elsewhere, but a cowardly part of me told me to stay out of it. It wasn't really my business anyway, not to mention those men were armed and I wasn't. I wasn't even that great a fighter unarmed either.

Then one of the men noticed me staring and spoke. "What are you lookin' at?" he demanded.

"Err… nothing," I managed to reply, looking away hurriedly.

"Ain't seen you 'round 'ere before," the man who noticed me said. "Where are you from, stranger?" he asked.

"Around," I said in a half-truth. I could feel the ring on my finger grow cold. Looked like Dungeon Master was right as these men did look nasty enough to be evil or at least bad.

"Dressed fancy ain't ya," noted one of the other men. "Reckon he don't knows about the fee," he said conspiratorially to his friends who all sniggered.

I had a pretty good idea these men would shake down anyone for money to pass through this village. As surreptitiously as I could, I slid my spoon under the table, a half-baked idea in my head of using said spoon to get in a sneak attack.

"What fee?" I asked feigning confusion, but a bead of sweat trailed down my face which helped convince the thugs of my lie.

"Well, there's a fee that any outsiders who pass through here have to pay for the privilege of staying here," said the thug who I could only assume was the leader of this motely lot. "Seeing how you're dressed, you could afford it, right?" he suggested.

"And what if I can't?" I said.

"Well, then we have a little problem, don't we?" replied the leader with a grin showing chipped and broken teeth.

"And how much is this fee?" I asked.

"Ten gold coins," said the leader.

"I didn't quite hear that, could you come a little closer and tell me?" I asked with a smile.

The leader spat up some phlegm on the ground before walking over to me. I stood out from my chair and the thug towered over me and began to repeat what he said. But I quickly grabbed him by the front of his shirt and thrust my knee into his groin. The man fell to his knees, clutching his wounded manhood. Running on pure adrenaline, I slammed my spoon into the thug's eye, nearly popping it out and the man screamed in pain, clutching his wounded eye. The other thugs all blanched and a couple drew their weapons. I quickly snatched up the weapon of the thug I injured, a cudgel; the weight of it was heavy in my hands and I gripped it tightly, white-knuckling it as I held it up, waiting for the thugs to make the first move.

For what felt like hours, neither the thugs or I moved. I don't know who made the first move but I smashed by borrowed weapon into the face of one of the thugs, breaking his nose and perhaps more of his already broken teeth. Another of the thugs tried to thrust his dagger into my chest; it was sheer luck I turned at the last minute and the iron blade left only a scratch on my chest. The pain was dulled by the adrenaline rush I was under as I swung my weapon into the man's head with a crunch of wood against bone. I didn't look to see if I had killed the man as one of the others tried to rush, his arms wrapping around my body. Whether it was instinct or merely copying what I had seen in the movies, I slammed my knee into the man's face a couple of times, before pulling him up and punched him in the face. I winced a little as my knuckles collided against the man's cheek, but he fell to the ground groaning in pain.

The last thug tried to hit me on the head with his club but I managed to avoid the strike and I waited for the man to take another swing. With a yell, he charged at me, but I swung my foot out and my boot hit the man in the groin. The thug fell to the floor, moaning in pain but not for long as I smashed my cudgel onto his head, knocking him out.

And it was over. I looked around at the scene, all the thugs were laid, groaning in pain. As the adrenaline wore, I felt sapped to the bone and I almost fell to the floor, exhausted and tired as all hell. A few of the bar patrons were all muttering fearfully to each other. I heard the sentence, "The baron won't be pleased!" But I was too tired to ask who this baron was as I breathed hard, trying to regain my breath.

The door then swung open and I groaned as the thought of more thugs coming into the avenge their comrades entered their mind.

But to my relief, seven figures stood in the doorway. Four of them were male, young boys really. Two were female, young girls. And the last wasn't human, looking to be more a miniature pony with a single horn on its head. The ring on my finger grew hot, so these individuals were friendly for the moment.

The first boy, one with neck length blonde hair and wearing an outfit of studded leather and a green tunic and holding in his hands, an ornate looking bow without a bowstring, looked at me and asked, "What's going on here?"

I was too tired to reply when one of the girls, a pretty young redhead with a lavender purple hood and cloak around her shoulders spoke. "That's him! He's the one Dungeon Master told us about!" she said in excitement.

One of the other boys, wearing ornate looking plate armour with a golden shield on his arm and possessing short dark hair said, "Doesn't look much. He's nearly passed out on the floor!" He gave a haughty laugh.

I glared at the boy; excuse me for wanting to take a breather after being in my first fight!

The other girl, she had dark skin and curly brown hair and wore what I could only liken to a fur bikini. "Give it a rest, Eric. This guy looks like he's been in a fight and he took out all these guys!" she said.

The blonde haired boy knelt in front of me and said, "My name's Hank, I'm the Ranger. Are you the one Dungeon Master sent?"

"Little guy? Red robes?" I managed to wheeze out and Hank the Ranger nodded. "I guess… guh… you're the ones… he told me about?" I said.

"We are," replied Hank. "Can you stand?" he asked.

"I think so," I panted as I grasped the ledge of the bar and pulled myself to sitting position. Once I felt some normalcy in my legs, I stood up straight and dropped the cudgel I realised I was still holding in a white-knuckle grip. I gritted my teeth as I flexed my hand, the muscles having locked themselves up during the fight.

"C'mon, we'd better get out of here," Hank said knowingly, looking at the bar patrons and the innkeeper who had cowered behind tables during the fight.

"Right," I muttered as I followed the group outside.

Once outside, I looked at the children. "So, what are your names?" I asked them.

"I'm Hank, but I already told you that," Hank said. "These are Presto, Eric and Bobby." The dark haired boy nodded at me, while the others, a boy wearing green wizard's robes and pointy hat and a boy younger than all of them wearing a leather cross harness with a horned helmet and holding a large wooden club his hands waved at me. "These two are Sheila and Diana," the two girls smiled at me. "And lastly we have Uni," the little pony gave a bleat, making it seem more a goat than a horse.

"Nice to meet you all," I said to them politely. "I'm…" I tried to introduce myself.

"Dungeon Master already gave you a name for us to call you by," Hank interrupted me.

"He did?" I said in confusion. Would've like to have been consulted first. "And what name did he come up with?" I asked sarcastically.

"Aegon."

The name stopped me dead. My head was starting to whir as I suddenly put two and two together. This explained a couple of things. My hair and eye colour and my general overall appearance. I had been turned into a Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice & Fire character, specifically, a member of house Targaryen with the name Aegon. To my knowledge there had been six members of House Targaryen that were named Aegon, the last of which was thought to have been killed as a baby by the Mountain That Rides, that is until Tyrion Lannister met a blue-haired lad named Young Griff claiming to be him on the River Rhoyne.

I'd read the fan theories of that Aegon. The most popular theory was that he wasn't Elia's son, but a Blackfyre which had yet to be proven as George had yet to publish the next book and had been frustratingly coy about Aegon/Young Griff.

Anxiety was beginning to well up in my chest and the little voices were whispering in my head. I don't know if I was being punished for something I did, and I'd done a lot of stupid things in my life, but nothing too dark such as murder or rape someone, but this certainly didn't seem like a reward.

"Aegon, you said?" I asked, after I found my ability to speak again and Hank nodded. "Okay, sure, that's what I'm called," I said resignedly.

"Are you okay?" the green robed boy, Presto, asked.

"Yeah… fine, just dandy," I replied with a forced smile. "So, how is it I can help you all?" I asked them bluntly, wanting to get this nightmare over and done with as quick as possible before I had a mental breakdown.

"We're trying to find our way home, Mister," the little boy, Bobby, replied. "But we can't get back home! All because of Venger!" he said angrily.

"Okay, simmer down," I said to the little boy placatingly. I then realised that most of these kids had some form of armament, although Sheila and Presto didn't look to be armed with anything. "I just noticed your… weapons," I remarked faintly.

"Yeah, Dungeon Master gave them to us," Diana replied as she held up her staff. "But you don't have a weapon," she then said.

"knowing my luck I'll be given a stick," I muttered.

"Well, one thing you should know, Venger is after our weapons and he'll do anything to get them," Hank said to me. "But you'll need a weapon if we're to find a way home," he added.

"I suppose I should ask Dungeon Master for a weapon?" I said sarcastically.

"Nothing quite so simple, young man," said a voice behind me. I whirled around to see Dungeon Master standing there with a smile on his lips.

"Dungeon Master!" Presto exclaimed in surprise.

Hank stepped around me to talk directly to Dungeon Master. "What did you mean it wasn't so simple?" he asked the tiny little dwarf.

"Aegon's weapon is nearby, in an ancient tomb not far from here," Dungeon Master said. "Venger has already sent his minions to retrieve it, but they have run into resistance," he added cryptically.

"Oh, man I hate it when he plays cryptic," Eric whined.

"Let me guess: a monster guards the crypt?" I asked.

"Indeed, among other things, Aegon," Dungeon Master replied. "You must go forth and retrieve your weapon, before the minions of Venger succeed in doing so themselves," he said as he began to walk off around the corner.

"Wait! How will I recognise this weapon?" I called out as I tried to run after the little man but I found no trace of him around the corner.

"Great… just great," I muttered sullenly before I looked at my new companions. "So… a crypt?" I asked.

Hank nodded and replied, "C'mon, the sooner we get your weapon, the sooner we can start looking for a way home!"

I then followed the children out of the village and into the forest. I could feel anxiety seeping into my bones and I whispered to myself, "It's okay… I can do this," I muttered as I hung back from the group a little and was left to my thoughts.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: There! The first chapter of this done. I hoped it was good enough to make the grade, and if you haven't guessed already, this is a first-person narration and Self-Insert story. If first-person and/or Self Insert stories aren't your cup of tea, then feel free to read something else. This is, I think, my first attempt at a Self Insert, unless you count my Blood & Fire GoT story which isn't really a SI, so this is my actual attempt at a SI. If any of you ever met me in real life, you would definitely say that I would last ten seconds, if even that in D&D or GoT/ASOIAF, but it's gonna be fun watching now, isn't it?

I've got a few ideas for this story and I'm using a lot of elements from other fandoms for this story, including GoT/ASOIAF series and the D&D game. Other fandoms I'm using will be more or less related to RPGs, not just limited to Fantasy RPGs, but a few others that aren't necessarily fantasy related, but I won't say what they are just yet. I'm also using some elements from the Heavy Metal animated movies for this story and given that this is a GoT/ASOIAF crossover, you can sorta expect what's to come, but nothing too crazy that might get me branded as a paedophile or anything like that as SI-Aegon is in soul a 28 year old man and was raised as a law abiding citizen of modern society.

And that's what I have right now, so I'll just leave this here and I'll see you all in the next one. Leave a review if you like this story and want to see it continue, and I may do so. If not, I'll probably take this down.

Be kind to one another,

Angry lil' elf.