Shadowrunners and the Game of Thrones: 1

We're not the great 'runners. We don't get called by dragons. We just protect our neighborhood and scam books out of Mr. Johnson's who double as the manager of the local stuffer shack franchise.

"Which was why," Wendy growled, as she stalked over the snow-covered terrain, clutching her jacket to her, because it had been sixty-five in the Barrens, that the next time they find out the guy at the down the road was sacrificing vagrants in a blood magic ritual, they hire some real shadowrunners!

Wendy shook her head. I'm gonna die if I keep walking around. There were trees in the snowy hills, and she trudged to one, reaching up and pulling off small branches, hissing at the way the cold burnt her fingers. She looked around and nodded. There was a little cut in one of the hills, not a cave, but enough so that it was blocking the worst of the wind..

Wendy quickly made a little pyramid of tinder, finding a few larger bits of wood to put in it. Hah, try this "full" magicians. Street kids like her always got shit, because they didn't go to the big schools. But she had time to learn a lot more than just magic, and magic… magic was a great tool… She called the fire into the wood, feeling the strain of telling the universe what to do. A minor trick, most mages didn't care about it, but... you could do a lot with little tricks.

Moments later, fire bloomed into the core of the wood, and soon Wendy was huddling over a cheery little fire. She got it started, and then picked up some free rocks, putting them into the fire. They'd heat up, redirecting the heat to her.

But the sun was going down and…

No sign of her friends.

Where the hell were they? They'd been with her when the ritual had gone bad, Hank, Claire… Where were they? Maybe Old Jake was still back at home, which would be good because he was the best mage Wendy knew. He could get them back.

Her back was freezing, but she had some food. Wendy pulled out a packet of rations and started munching on it. She didn't have a lot of water, but the snow'd fix that. There was enough wood to keep it going for a while…

Wendy set to work as soon as she was a little unfrozen and the food had filled her up. She pulled out the little field shovel she kept with her (never knew when you might have to dig up something in the barrens, and the sharp edge had come in handy more than once. She got the snow out of her little alcove, and then went and started chopping the tree branches to get enough to last her the night. People'd see the fire. Depending on who...

Wendy shook her head. That was fine. Better than freezing to death. Night had fallen completely when she was done, but that was what Saeder Krupp glasses were for.

Stupid ganger, the teen thought. Rolling in with his new stuff and telling them he was their boss.

The shovel had come in really handy then.

Right. Now, for the last thing, since Wendy didn't want to wake up to someone murdering her. She squatted in front of the fire and sent her mind out. Astral space was… weird here. Still, she reached out, calling on a spirit…

And one answered, the gleaming form of the cat dancing around her, looking like Wendy's first pet.

"Thanks for showing up," she said. The spirit bounced and danced around her. "Could you do me a favor?" She didn't need to bind it. Not for this. The spirit paused and looked at her, tilting its head. "I'd like you to just make certain nobody sneaks up on me tonight." Wendy held out the remains of her meal. It wasn't much, but then the service wasn't much. The little glowing cat nodded once and then started bouncing around the trees, chasing little flurries of snow.

Wendy felt the power of the request fall over it.

Good. She could get some sleep.

****

Claire shook her head at the man she'd made go away. Stupid jerk. I didn't want to kill him. Hell she didn't know where she was. Just a big, smelly city, Not like the lab, the lab had been clean. But it was even smellier than the Barrens, where she'd met her friends.

And now they were gone! She shook her fingers clear of the blood, the silvery nanites fading to a normal color as the blood flicked away.

On the other hand…

He had money. Money was good. Wendy had told her that Money was important, because that was how you bought things. People always got mad at Claire when she took things without paying for it. Then they chased her and screamed a lot when she made them go away. That was before Wendy and Hank and the old man had gotten her.

Claire nodded. She would take the money and pay people, and they wouldn't scream! But first… She reached down and pulled the bread from the dead man's pouch. She could eat this, and maybe there were some nice birdies on the roof!

Fingers shifted into gleaming, razor-sharp talons, the slim form scrambled up the wall, the bustling city of King's Landing quite unaware of its newest resident…

****

Hank had no idea where he was, or why those moronic horse-riding fucks had decided to try and kill him.

He wasn't a spell-slinger, not like Wendy. But magic spoke to him in different ways. Normally he'd take them out hand-to-hand, but right now…

Fuck it. I brought extra ammo for this. He snapped his pistol up (no reason to use the rifle, they weren't wearing armor for shit) and fired three rounds.

And the three front guys in his fan club all toppled off of their horses. The rest pulled up, milling around, staring at the guys and then back at Hank like they'd never seen a pistol in their lives. Then Hank dove into their midst, the adept's way flowing through him. He'd dealt with blood mages, a sacrifice, whatever the hell had dropped him out into the middle of a desert, and now these assholes. One tried to get out of his way, only to get his throat ripped out by his blade, the other came down on him with some kind of scythe, but that's what you had armor plates in your sleeves for, and he punched him in the throat hard enough to collapse his lyranx.

And that was it.

"Now what the hell do I do?" Wendy was the brain, and Claire… okay, Claire would probably make a nest of all the guys she'd killed, but you couldn't exactly blame her. Claire had been kind of sheltered, well, when Aztechnology wasn't performing experiments on her.

He reached down and checked out their clothes. No armor, no guns, no comlinks and the stars didn't look right. But they didn't feel like spirits, so this probably wasn't a metaplane.

Hank pulled the gear off the horses and slapped all but two on their asses, sending them their way. The last two he took, one loaded with supplies from those who'd no longer need to eat, and the other for him.

Now, it was time to find out where the hell he was.