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Dragonborn Saga

Meet Jon Dare, your every day's 25 years old who one day wakes up in Honorhall Orphanage in the city of Riften in the Kingdom of Skyrim. He reincarnated in his favorite game 19 years before the start of the game’s events. Armed with knowledge about the future and full potential in Magic, Combat and Voice, the Nord kid will set out from Riften to find himself becoming a Hero way before the start of the game events. ---------- Extra Tags: Domestic Affairs, Animal Sidekick, Creative MC, Strong MC ---------- Find Extra Early Chapters and our Discord Server on this link... https://linktr.ee/donovel

El_Don · Video Games
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The Battle of Winterhold (6) : Reinfrocements

*The Sea of Ghosts North to Winterhold*

Ten longboats broke the waves heading towards Winterhold's shore. The largest one had two men of nobility air around them.

"I hope we are not late. What happened last time when we met Thane Jonhild Firemane was bad enough for all manner of diplomacy, you better not advise me to change my mind."

"I'd advise you not to do something as reckless as entering the Old Holds with only 2'000 men but if you are going to do something reckless, you better do it right. I'll make sure of that."

"Just remember. Our objective is to stop the clans and break the siege. The current Winterhold is too valuable to let fall in the hands of those idiots."

"Yes, yes, you needn't remind me. Just land there and stop the fight in the name of…"

"Shore Ahead!" A watchman up the crow's nest shouted.

"Finally, some land. This sea mist was going to suffocate me. Listen, we don't need to interfere too much. Thane Jonhild is missing but he proved too tough to be held down by vampires. The Lad's got Fate and that won't make some vampires stop him from achieving it. I was too foolish to let it all come to this, chaos is upon us and places like Winterhold would be a safe haven to folk when the time comes."

"Yes, yes… I'll make sure that the diplomacies are all handled and whatever Winterhold wants, Winterhold gets."

***

*The borders of Winterhold - Eastmarch - The Pale, Nightgate Village*

A company of cavalrymen rode the chilly road south to Winterhold's Mount Anthor taking the way to Wayward pass. On the lead were the commander and an old local guide.

"Old man, you sure you can guide us the right to that place?"

"Yes, yes, quit fretting over it. You can't reach Winterhold from the south road now. Fort Kastav is locking the way and bandits are everywhere. Your 2'000 cavalrymen will need a faster detour and there where I know one."

"Good, Winterhold awaits then. If we manage to break the siege before things are too late, we will gain their friendship and trust. Thane Jonhild Firemane will sure not forget this and keep our relations friendly."

"You sure talk a lot about that along the way."

"Of course, Winterhold is a hold of greatness and all the people ruling it in the past hundreds of years were all lacking. A man like Thane Jonhild can topple the scale of power any time he wanted yet he chose to remain neutral. I have faith in him and I also have faith that Winterhold will be a safe place for Nords when the time comes."

"... You are thinking too much. Winterhold is already a safe place with the people in it. You have no idea who those fuckers are dealing with."

"Oh! You talk like you know it all, old man. Tell me then, why did you offer to guide us to the Wayward Pass?"

"Hm? I just heard there are Thalmor beyond those hills and I wanted is to kill some."

"I see. No wonder they call you…"

"Halt! Who goes there?" A voice stopped the company of men from the mountain road.

"Are you a hold guard?" The commander asked.

"You are not from the Stormfist's band… Wait! Those banners… these are…"

"Capture that man, he's from the Clans' Alliance." The commander spoke to the men behind him.

"Damn it! Don't get closer, we are numbered 2000 guarding the pass." The Alliance scout shouted.

"And so said the rumor." The commander replied. "But declaring your number without interrogation means your number is far less. Something must have happened and your force got pulled to the battle, am I right?"

"... shit!" The scout turned tail and ran.

"Haha! As I thought, the people of Fort Kastav were not pressured which means all the stalling forces are being pulled back. Winterhold should have put quite the stand." The Commander laughed.

"Told you so." The guide replied nonchalantly.

"Fine old man, we've got some Thalmor to kill and a battle to stop."

***

*Winterhold's frozen wasteland - Saarthal's front*

The fake wall fill on those who tried to seek shelter behind it killing over a thousand and injuring many. Now the attackers were open to a dozen of new dangers.

Almost 5'000 Dare Trooper, Firemane and Moonblade guardsmen swarmed on the survivors under the lead of the Bloody Hilda. The fierce she-wolf was wilding and a Great Dane Axe and cutting men in half from the helm down. The debris of the first wall formed a chaotic battlefield that a decent formation can't be formed upon. The Axemen and Spearmen of Winterhold swarmed over those under the debris killing and beheading.

"Never thought I'd see such a chaotic battle since the Red Ring. Ah! The feels." Hilda smelled the bloody air.

"Keep reminding me, you troll." Tyr said dissatisfied as he missed the Red Ring day due to injury.

"Easy, wife. No need to go full on bloody just yet. The Elves are not advancing." Jonrad stopped Hilda from ingesting herself in battle.

*Tower of Music: War Drums music."

"Ah! Nice one, Alina." Hilda called as she got fired up by the thrilling sensation.

"Goodness!"

After the wall fell, the men of the clans were pushed back away from the rubble and tried to regroup in a defensive formation. Of course, others already started escaping.

As Hilda and the others charged at the attackers, the situation took a turn to complete chaos but surely to the side of Winterhold.

Spears and axes descended on the men of the clans from all angles and corners. The Dare Troopers have accumulated a lot of stress in the days prior to the battle, their mass-produced gjermundbu helms and black shields made an image of horror in the eyes of their enemies as they formed a spear and shield formation form the flanks.

The death was lurking from every corner and despite being not cornered by any wall, the attackers fought and stood their ground despite the heavy losses and the low morale.

"REINFORCEMENTS! REINFORCEMENTS ARE HERE!"

As an attacker shouted, others could see the swarming numbers of men coming from the direction of the Wayward Pass, these were the other 5'000 that were stationed on the other direction of Winterhold.

They came running like a horde of hungry beasts.

"Hahaha! They brought down the wall. Look at that, a glorious day, brother." The herald on the lead called for the nearest retreating soldier.

"Fuck off! You know shit, we are dying here."

The sudden reply caused wrinkles to appear on the forehead of the man.

"Wha… we heard you are victorious and needed reinforcements on your side." The herald questioned.

"Who said that? Most of the Patriarchs died and we are retreating. Run for your lives!"

The retreating soldier didn't bother and deserted.

"Hey…" The Herald sensed that something was wrong.

Just an hour ago, news came to reinforce the main force on Saarthal. The messenger even had one of those secret coded messages with him.

In truth, that was the doing of [Team 0]. A khajiit spy has infiltrated the Thalmor servants and discovered the secret code of the messaging system between the forces. Alina used that to gather all the alliance's soldier at one place.

The herald wanted to turn around and inform the coming force with the news as he checked the battle situation with his own eyes but an oddity happened.

"MADNESS! THIS HOLD IS MADNESS!"

The man that was deserting just a minute ago came back running to the other directions.

The herald looked at what was chasing the man and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"M… Fucking mammoth!"

The reinforcements of Winterhold has arrived as well.

The [War Mammoth Team] led by the Council of Cousins and followed by 2'000 Dare Troopers.

20 Adult Mammoths are all that it took to form this unit detected only for destroying armies. Each mammoth was armored lightly like a Cataphract Horse and carried a large saddle that can take up to 20 lightly geared men with their bows and barrels of arrows.

A small walking fortress that can absorb all manners of attacks and destroy anything in its way with its armor enchanted with Magic Resistance.

"Open ways for the boys!"

Hafthor was riding a mammoth on his own with 20 Archer on its saddle and took a sharp turn towards the left flank of the coming reinforcements.

Wulfur and the rest took the same action and put all the pressure on the reinforcements. The first shock of the mammoths was unseen due to the uneven land and their charge was unstoppable. They may have already charged at the left flank but they have already gone too deep until they obliterated the right flank.

"DAMMIT! You should have told me we have that!" Hilda was claiming some poor souls under her axe when she saw the charge of the mammoths from afar. Her frustration was vented on another 20 to 30 poor souls.

Away from the battle, Orga Stormfirst and the Elves were still calculating their odds.

The Elves were surely going to attack but that was too chaotic and they may involve themselves with unwanted trouble but to the eyes of the Arch Wizards, this situation a few measly human pulling tricks on each other.

Orga, however, was pale as she saw the coming force being trampled down by the Mammoths. There was no room for negotiation with Alina as it seemed. A victory of this scale was just too overwhelming as Winterhold was suffering no losses at all.

Thankfully for her side, she didn't lose that many men and her troops were all following only her orders.

"Hey, beautiful. Up for a hike?"

Suddenly and out of nowhere, a voice called for Orga.

She looked behind to see a familiar silver-haired face with handsome features and a large sword on his shoulder.

"For Shor's sake, Brom. How can you be here?" Orga recognized Brom of Jehanna.

The two of them were fellow mercenaries.

"Me? I am guarding the Boss. Winterhold really pay a lot of money, you see. You should have come and worked with Boss Jon, he pays better than the Bretons and the Imperials I tell you."

"The Boss?" Orga's eyes narrowed as she looked behind Brom, "Jonhild Firemane is here?"

A smile formed on her face.

"Oh! Oh, wait! I see that look on your face. You want to go after the Boss?"

"Sounds like the best way to negotiate with that woman from Winterhold."

"You mean the Lady Boss? Come on. You made the worst two enemies in your years. Turn around and flee, best action you will ever take."

"..."

"Look, I was hired to protect this road. Your call, if you pass me you'll get killed by Jon Dare."

"I think I like the odds. Surely not worse than being stomped down by a damn mammoth."

"... I tell you what's worse than being stomped down by a mammoth. Having a damn Daedric Titan chase you to the demise of your war band. Been there… not good."

"Move aside, Brom."

"Sigh! So it begins."

The two mercenaries seemed to have a history of rivalry between them. Brom was looking to Orga's scary face with ease as his Daedric Band was summoned in the span of a few seconds. 300 Nords against 300 Dremora.

As they were about to clash.

The mountain shook.

The sky darkened and the air thinned.

Something was not right.

The Battle stopped, the Nords and the Elves and the others all looked towards the direction of the beak between Azura's Shrine and Mount Anthor only to see a beam of light forming between heaven and earth.

Jon was on the move.

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