A Close Encounter Of The Giant Kind

I strode through the woodland with a light foot, just like I'd been trained to, and placed each of my feet in just the right place to avoid making any noise. My eyes didn't look down to do so, I just relied on the experienced I'd accrued ever since I started hunting when I was seven summers old.

Instead, my eyes were straight ahead at the glorious male Elk not too far from me. My body was low and the wind was blowing in my face, chilling my eyes and making me want to blink.

Yet I did not.

Lifting a hand up and over my shoulder, I gripped a throwing spear before silently removing it from the container I carried them in that was tied to my back. Careful to not clip the spear on any of the surrounding shrubbery or branches, I brought it to my front and moved a foot forward as I snuck across the remaining distance between me and the Elk. When I was close enough to hear it's munching of the sparse grass below, I got into position.

One leg forward, my leg back to support my weight and my right arm reared back with a firm yet gentle grip on the wooden shaft of my throwing spear. My breath was calm and my eyes were focused and in one herculean motion, I lunged forward.

My back foot pushed me forward and my hips rotated in tandem with my shoulder, and my arm rocketed forward before I reached the right time to release the spear which I did with practised ease. The spear flew from my hands and sailed near silently through the air with only a slight whistle of it splitting the air telling of it's flight.

None-the-wiser, the Elk was struck by the spear and gave a death bleat before trying to run. It got a few steps before it stumbled and fell to the ground. Giving a nod to no one in particular, I stood from my frozen throwing position and walked over to the Elk.

The spear had struck near enough where I'd wanted it to: right above where it's front limb was. Through it's lungs. Just a hair away from it's heart where I'd originally been aiming.

The Elk was still alive, though barely, and it's breathing was harsh and wet, blood dribbling up and out of it's mouth with every exertion of it's chest. I knelt next to it and pulled the hunting knife from it's sheathe near my shoe, bringing it to the Elk's throat. Just as I went to slit it's throat, I caught it's eye and stopped before giving it a few strokes to the neck, "I'm sorry, my friend...but trust me, you wouldn't want to be in this world if you knew what I did."

I don't know why I said that or why I was speaking to an Elk that was near death. But the premonition I'd had days ago was still playing on my mind constantly - it was the reason why I'd come out here to hunt. To get my mind of it. And yet even here, a place where I usually felt so focused and calm, the thoughts were still plaguing me.

Bringing the knife back to the Elk's neck, it laid it's head against the ground and it's breathing got even more shallow. It knew this was the end. We don't give nearly enough credit to animals like this, thinking they're so below us...but then again, I'm the one hunting them. So to show them compassion and pity would just make me a hypocrite. Why did it have to be me who gained those premonitions? I used to live a simply life without questioning these types of things.

The Elk's throat was slit quickly and as painlessly as possible, what was left of it's blood pouring from the wound and soon enough it let out it's last breath.

I pat the corpse, "If it's possible, I wish you a safe trip to Sovngarde. You died braver than I would have," sighing, I put away my knife and pulled the throwing spear from the corpse before cleaning it off and putting it back into the container on my back. Reaching into a leather pouch on my waist, I scooped up some of the contents and pulled my hand back out.

My hand was holding a green paste used by some hunters to cover the scent of blood to avoid attracting predators. And the medicinal stink it gave off would probably ward away any Khajiit with a sensitive nose as well.

Rubbing the past around and in the Elk corpses wounds, I made sure to mask the scent and clog up the wounds to stop any blood from leaking out as I returned to Whiterun.

With that done, I rubbed the remnants of the paste onto the Elk's fur before moving my arms under it and then lifting it up onto my shoulder. The weight wasn't negligible but it was far from feeling heavy to someone like me - I'd guess I have my Nordic and Orcish Heritage to thank for that. The combination had proven to be quite a good one for me at least. As my thick arms and big hands steadied the beast's corpse on my shoulder, I had an odd sense of unease in my gut. Like I was forgetting something.

Yet, in the end, I knew I was quite on edge lately because of those premonitions and it was most likely that was causing some unfounded paranoia in my mind. So, with that in mind, I began my trek back home.

The walk through the woodland near Whiterun was just like it was every time I came through here; peaceful. Quiet. Even with the subtle sense of danger prevalent in an untamed landscape like this, I found myself more at home out here than I did inside the walls of Whiterun. The idea of being a nomadic hunter had crossed my mind more than once but it wasn't exactly the best way to make a bit of coin, was it? Instead, I'd stick to my lessons at the Warmaiden. That'd get me some coin if I got my name out there.

As I trudged through the woods with an eight-hundred pound Elk on my shoulders, I heard a far off banging. The sound was like the thudding of a large animal and came at a steady pace like someone walking. One word blared through my head.

Giants.

I thought of running but the Giant I was hearing came into view between the some far-off trees, standing a solid twelve feet tall and while it was lean like most Giants, it was still stacked with enough muscle that it was guaranteed to weigh more than 500lbs and easily twice as heavy as I am. But even weighing that much, it carried it's weight with the grace of a hunter and when it saw me...well, it started sprinting at me.

Taking a deep breath, I shrugged the Elk off my shoulder and pulled the throwing spears from my back one by one and stabbed each of them into the ground before me until I was holding my last spear.

Luckily, the area around me was an open valley and when the Giant broke through the tree-line, there was a good thirty meters between us.

So, I pulled back my arm and flung the spear forward with as much force as I could spare.

The spear shot through the air and caught the Giant off guard as it sunk into it's shoulder, splitting the thick grey skin and letting copious amounts of blood flood out. But sadly it wasn't a lethal hit and neither would I be able to get a lethal hit on it - a Giant's thick skin is already big enough of a problem when it came to throwing spears but add on it's dense muscles and thick bones...and you've got a very durable opponent.

Yet, it didn't deter me for long and I grabbed my second spear before letting loose another throw, the spear flying like a bolt of lightning conjured up by a Mage. This one barely clipped the Giant on the side and left a shallow cut across it's ribs, the bones easily protecting the lungs below them.

It had gotten perilously close by now and I could already seeing it lift it's stone club up into the air, aiming to bring it back down and turn me into a gory puddle.

Grabbing two of the spears, I threw myself out of the way and into a roll just in time to avoid the stone hammer carving through the ground where I'd just stood with the power of an avalanche. The ground cratered and dirt shot up into the air, the remaining spears stabbed into the ground either being sent flying or getting snapped in the process.

As I stabilised myself from my roll, I flung the two spears in my hands as quickly as I could. It meant sacrificing power for speed but it'd have to do for now. As expected, both spears bounced off the Giant's thick hide but I hadn't been planning to hurt it - just distract it and give myself some time.

Pulling my two War Axes from their rings on my belt, I pulled on something else but this time it was something inside me. Deep down in my stomach. A primal, brutal rage. Something given to me by my Orcish Heritage. The rage was like a fire and right now it was caged up and bound but no more. I cast off the restraints and opened the cage, letting the rage flood through my body. As soon as it did, I felt my muscles thrum and tighten and I felt like my nerves were set alight with lightning.

I let loose a savage roar and charged the Giant that was only now turning to me.

Despite our height differences, I had a feeling our strength wasn't too far apart. Sure, the Giant's twelve feet tall and 500lbs and I'm only 6'4", 250lbs--but I have the advantage of being a Nord AND an Orc, two the physically strongest sentient races in Tamriel. And I'm hopped up on my Orcish Berserker Rage right now which makes me twice as strong as usual and even harder to hurt.

And if I am hurt? I wouldn't even feel it. But enough of that, my ears buzzed and my vision began to turn red and I finally reached the Giant and jumped up, lifting my axes high into the air before I fell down on the Giant and brought my axes down like two sharp boulders falling off a cliff.

The Steel Blades cut into the skin and muscle of my target - the Giant's chest - and kept me there as it stood, allowing me to pull one of my axes back to bat away it's hand which came to swipe at me.

It pulled it's hand away with a roar, a long and deep cut across it's palm which had even cut into the bone as far as I could see. Before it brought it's other hand into the fun, stone hammer and all, I brought the axe back and dug it into the Giant's chest once again with pinpoint accuracy, digging the blade into it's earlier incision.

The muscle already cut to shreds, the steel bit into the uncovered bone and with my innate strength boosted by my Orcish rage, I pushed even harder against the bone until it gave way with a thunderous crack which was followed by a roar of pain which quickly turned to a gurgle as it cut into the lung. I pulled my other axe free and went to slam it into the Giant's throat before it ignored the pain and slapped me away with it's injured hand.

Before I knew it, it's stone-headed hammer slammed into my mid-air form and sent me rocketing away. Only my thick bones and dense muscles - much like the Giant's - kept me alive but that's not to say it didn't rattle me quite badly. My brain felt like it'd been liquefied.

I hit a tree with a cracking thud and only my confidence in my durability let me believe it was the tree cracking and my own bones, and I turned to look at the Giant which was still standing but looking paler by the second.

Second thing I'd killed today by going for the lung. Is this going to become a thing?

My thoughts were put on hold as I felt the rage inside me beginning to dry up and the foreign concept of pain began to familiarise itself with me again. My back and rips felt like shit. So did my head. I pushed the pain away and pulled on the last dregs of the rage with everything I had. My vision became heavily tinted around the edges and my hearing simultaneously went numb and into overdrive at the same time.

Tunnel-visioned on the Giant, I rushed at it like I hadn't just been clobbered by it's club and when it swung at me again, I slid under it with ease and reflexes I was proud to have as a product of what could be considered two of the slower races.

Pushing myself up onto my feet, I kept my center of gravity low and tackled the Giant's legs. Sliding my hands behind it's knees, I pushed up into it's stomach with my shoulder and pulled it's knees toward me. Even without the rage I could do something like this, so with it? It was like taking a sweetroll from a child.

The Giant collapsed backward under my might and because of it's wounds and I clambered up it's downed body, slamming my axes into it for extra leverage and to do more damage. And when I was sat upon it's bloody chest, I lifted my axes slammed one into it's face and another into the side of it's neck. It's face split open diagonally, frozen in a cry of pain and anger, and it's last breath was pushed out of it's mouth and through the wounds on it's chest that caused it's lungs to be perforated.

The blood I was sitting on was bubbling as the air left the Giant but I knew it was already dead. It's eyes had gone all glassy and I'd given enough death to plenty of animals to know what that look meant.

I collapsed back onto the Giant's chest and stomach and felt the rage finally leave me. Exhaustion and pain crept across my frame and only now did I realise how heavy I was breathing.

My rough breathing caused me to cough and I reached for my side where I kept my waterskin. Lifting it up to my mouth, I pulled the cork loose and...nothing. It was empty. "Oh for the love of Talos..." I groaned before putting the waterskin back. Rolling off the Giant's corpse, I caught myself lazily and sat next to it for a few moments before I forced myself up and began making the best of a bad situation.

I took one of my axes, putting the other one back in it's hoop on my waist, and cut off the Giant's toes, extracted his molars, drained some of it's blood into my empty waterskin and even shaved off some of the fungus growing in it's armpits. All of these can be sold to alchemists for some septims. Quite a few, truth be told.

Turning, I was about to make my way back to the Elk I'd left behind when I saw it.

Another Divines-damned Giant. It looked between me and one of it's kinsman who was basically butchered at this point, and then roared before charging me.

My back and ribs still ached like a Goblin had been stamping on them for the past few hours and I was still exhausted. But that didn't mean I would go down without a fight--And yet that seemed to be a useless thought.

The Giant was peppered with arrows. Well, when I say 'peppered' it wasn't really the case. Six arrows were shot but each arrow was shot with such force and such precision that each of them felt like ten of mine whenever I used a bow. The first arrow hit the Giant's throat and actually pierced it. Then the next two hit a similar space and the end result was a decent sized hole in the Giant's neck. When the Giant turned to the direction of the arrows, the next two took out the Giant's eyes. Then the last arrow was fired into the roaring Giant's mouth as it roared in pain but before it could cover it's face and eyes with it's large hands.

Soon after, it dropped dead.

I looked around for my saviour or potential attacker but I found nothing. Just the cold and damp woodland you'd expect during the middle of Frostfall. But that's when my instincts began to tingle and I drew an axe, spinning on the balls of my feet as I brought the axe head up toward the person behind me. Yet I stopped as I recognised them and kept my axe blade just a few inches from their throat. They didn't even flinch - either because they knew I'd stop or because I couldn't hurt them.

...That's quite odd. The person behind me was one of the higher-ups among the Companions. Aela the Huntress, they call her. Some call her Aela the Enchantress because of her beauty but they don't do it for long lest they end up with an arrow mysteriously sticking out their head.

I've heard about her quite a lot from Adrianne and Ulfberth. Usually after work at The Bannered Mare. I especially hear of her from Ulfberth, to the annoyance of Adrianne.

But I can see why he's a little smitten with her. She's absolutely gorgeous.

Long red hair, like actual fire coming off her head, and steel-grey eyes that seemed to want to pierce anything they looked at. Not to mention her body. It was curvaceous yet toned, just like any warrior woman's would be. The perfect balance between feminine and fighter that can beat you in a brawl. She looked up at me with a smirk, our height difference being quite apparent, and gestured to the Giant not to far behind me, "I see you took down a Giant on your own, kinsman. How about you buy me a drink for saving you at the Bannered Mare? I think I'd like to talk to you about something."

...Huh.