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Extra Chapter: 8000 Votes

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*20th of Sun Dusk (November), 4E 197*

Nine Nords against a hundred Foresworn, the odds are disastrous.

From the mountains surrounding the road, a lot of figures appeared. They were all wearing furs and bones like savages yet it all helped them to be completely camouflaged. They held on their bows and crude weapons.

"TO ARMS!"

Yet Wulfur shouted valiantly and all his people took out some heavy shields.

"Shoot them!"

Alaric, the Foresworn leader whose face was covered with red paint, shouted as he took out a bow and shot at Wulfur. The latter didn’t even need a shield to deflect the arrow away with the back of his hand.

Alaric seemed to have underestimated Wulfur and put down the bow, there wasn’t much to do with a regular weapon like that against someone with Wulfur’s level. Alaric took out a spear and gave another command.

"Pin them down! Don’t let these magical creature break on a run."

Contrary to other mounts, the Atronach Mounts had endless stamina and could break from 0 to top speed in an instant. Alaric’s worry about the Nords using their mounts to charge was not baseless but his estimation was wrong. The Atronachs may look like horses but they were basically different beings.

"Let’s make it out of here. We need to reach ’Old Hroldan’." One of Wulfur’s said and Wulfur agreed.

"Charge!"

The directed their mounts and decided to escape the hail of arrows with speed while covering themselves with their shields.

"Not so fast!"

Alaric realized that there was no stopping those Nords so he decided to do interfere in a melee fight. He ran towards Wulfur with his spear and leaped really high, even Wulfur was taken aback by the high leap.

"""BLOOD EAGLE!"""

Once Alaric jumped that high, the Foresworn all cheered for him calling him eagle. His leap really reassembled a flying eagle. Alaric held his spear with his two hands and descended on Wulfur.

The Foresworn knew about their brave leader’s famous leap and how many gigantic Nords like Wulfur died under it. They were already preparing to celebrate victory in their minds.

However, the scene they saw next felt like they were showered with cold water all of a sudden. Wulfur raised his shield facing Alaric and bashed at the right time. The bash sent Alaric even higher than his own leap with a broken nose.

Wulfur was simply too domineering even with a fork at hand, too bad he didn’t have one.

Alaric landed with a bloody nose like a tossed stone and Wulfur rallied his men to jump away. The Foresworn who managed to sober up after the unprecedented event did their best to shoot Wulfur and his men with arrows only to get blocked by their large shields.

Foresworn warriors from Alaric’s clan ran to him and helped him stand, he staggered for a bit and held his nose.

"AAARG! Dammit! What was that man?"

He cussed right away.

"Alaric, the Nord is getting away." One man said.

Alaric was still bothered by his nose and clicked his tongue.

"Tsk! I know, they will have to go through my brother first."

"... Oh! So Grosh is back there."

Alaric didn’t bother hand held his spear once again only to find it snapped.

"Dammit! That Nord is truly strong. I need a better weapon. Something bloody enough to kill that man."

He said and chased after Wulfur.

***

Not far ahead, a situation occurred. Something as if originated in hell blocked the way of Wulfur and his men.

"What on Nirn is that?" Even Wulfur was shocked.

In front of him was a giant... maybe a bit smaller and look more like a human. No! It doesn’t look like a human, it is a deformed human with an unimaginable height. Wulfur never thought to see someone taller than the Firemanes but in front of him, there was such a freak.

Over three meters tall, the deformed freak stood with a large club in its hand.

"GROSH!"

An angry shout echoed from the freak as it charged at Wulfur and his men in high speed.

"Dodge! Don’t make contact!"

Wulfur shouted and his group dispersed into a loose formation to break away from such monstrosity. The Atronach Horses ran past the freak one by one and it couldn’t catch any but the last man that almost passed the freak was flung away by the club.

"AAAH!"

"Frilg!" Wulfur shouted to his assistant that was sent flying. He turned around and wanted to run for him but the man has already hit the grown with a chest turned into meat-paste.

"GROSH!"

"Chief, be careful!" Another assistant shouted.

Wulfur felt a large shadow descended on him and reflexively raised his shield.

A mighty force smote down on his shield and the Storm Atronach Horse under Wulfur crumbled. He could only crash on the ground with his feet and withstand the freak’s attack with his two hands supporting the shield.

Not given any other chance, another hit landed on Wulfur’s shield.

"GROSH! GROSH!"

Wulfur withstood more smites with the club of the freak until his arms felt numb, the freak kept screaming while hitting Wulfur’s shield as if he was frustrated from for not being able to smash a wall.

"GROOOOOSH!"

The last hit from the freak shattered Wulfur’s shield but he still withstood it with his (Level 7, Iron Bone) strength.

Not only Wulfur’s assistance witness Wulfur’s admirable strength. Alaric and his people have already caught up and saw something they didn’t want to believe right away.

"Grosh! Don’t hit him from above! Kick him!" Alaric shouted at the freak.

Grosh looked between Alaric and Wulfur, realizing what he should have done from the start rather than frustrating itself, Grosh simply kicked Wulfur.

To Wulfur, attacks from above were easily manageable by his strength and Healing Aura. Still, an attack by such a creature from the side sent Wulfur flying like a loosen arrow.

His body was simply too numb from dodge the kick after the thunderous strikes that broke his shield open.

"Dammit! Help the Chief."

The assistance hurried to where Wulfur landed and wanted to take him but Alaric was faster as he started shooting arrows at them with his men.

"Grosh, finish that man."

With a word from Alaric, the demented freak ran towards Wulfur with heavy thuds as if he was an actual giant. Yet out of nowhere, something weird occurred.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The 3 meters tall freak was sent away in the air just like that.

"Boss?" One of the assistants looked around looking for Jon, the only one who can shout in their minds but his guess was incorrect.

Wulfur was the one who shouted.

He managed to stand up and shout before it was too late and hurriedly retreated to his men.

"Let’s get out of here! FAST!"

Covered by shields, Wulfur managed to summon another Storm Atronach Horse and his team broke into a run towards ’Old Hroldan’.

The Foresworn were shocked by the unpredicted chain of events but their shock was accompanied with anger. Alaric realized what happened faster than anyone and ran towards Grosh to check on him.

"Grosh! Brother! Are you okay?"

"... Grosh... Grooosh."

"It’s okay. It’s alright, you did your best. Don’t be sad."

Alaric comforted Grosh who was deeply depressed about what happened and looked towards where the Wulfur escaped. His expressions were full of wrath just like the rest of his clansmen.

"Alaric! That Nord... he shouted..."

Not all the Foresworn were angry. The young ones were angry but the old ones were a bit fearful. The reason was pretty much understandable. They witnessed the Thu’um once a long time ago before the Reachmen become the Foresworn, it was the very reason why they swore in the first place.

The shout that destroyed everything back then, the shout the crushed the Kingdom the Alaric’s grandfather, the shout that killed his father and brothers when the gates of Markarth crumbled down on them.

The Shout that Ulfric Stormcloak used to regain the Reach and put the Reachman King in chains. To the Foresworn, this was the day of the humiliation when the Nords killed every last Reachman in Markarth and even the Nords that lived under the rule of Madanach once they retook it.

Wulfur may have pushed away a disaster by the shout but he evoked another one.

"Alaric! The ’Matrons’... they want us to bring that man... alive?" One of the men asked.

Alaric’s glare towards Wulfur’s direction only stopped when the ’Matrons’ were mentioned.

"The Matrons word is our law. If we can’t take that man down with a hundred, we will bring a thousand." Alaric said and turned to his men.

"That man... Wulfur... he won’t be able to run to Markarth. His direction will be Old Hroldan to rest after Grosh hit him. I saw him weakened."

He took raised his bow up and called.

"Call all the Clans. You call the Bloodravens, you call the Bonecrushers and you call even those poisonous bastards from the Doomfang. I will travel to the deep caves and meet the Matrons ask them for aid."

He then turned towards the mountains but he remembered something and spoke once more.

"If they wouldn’t comply, tell them that the Blood Eagle Alaric, their prince and the grandson of Madanach will deal with them after he takes the head of that Nord."

Alaric’s last orders brought chaos not only to the Foresworn but to the whole Reach.

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