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Ice-Born: A Skyrim Fanfic
Chapter Thirteen: Midnight Riders

Chapter Thirteen: Midnight Riders

The village was farther than I’d expected, being at the very farthest edge of the circle on my map. We’d been riding for three hours by the time we got there, and the sun had set already. The moon wasn’t bright, and there was only one of them again. I’d figured out that the smaller one, Secunda, orbited the larger, Masser. Secunda would disappear for a few days, not because it was behind Masser all the time, but because it was under the horizon. That was my working theory at least. If Secunda was actually orbiting fast enough to be doing full circuits around Masser in less than a week, the gravitational forces should have ripped both moons, and Nirn, into pieces.

That was my old life talking, that didn’t account for the fact that the moons were literally the corpse of the god that had created Mundus. Jori had taught me the basics like I was a particularly stunted child, a source of great amusement to Riga. Magic meant that none of the vague recollections I had of orbital mechanics meant a damn thing. The moon wasn’t bright, and there was only one of the fucking things, which suited me just fine tonight. My night eye ring meant that I could see as if it was still dusk, despite only a sliver of Masser providing light.

The twins followed me onto a hill overlooking the village, where we dismounted the sleds and settled in for a look. From a distance, everything seemed fine in the little clutch of houses. Smoke rose from chimneys, there were lights in the windows, shapes moved behind them. Careful observation showed a blood-stained patch of snow along the center road, and I could just barely make out a body hanging from the balcony of what seemed to be a tavern. We were too far to hear anything over the howling winter wind, but I was sure it was nothing pretty. The bandits had mentioned that there were seven men in their gang that had left, and I’d questioned them separately. Seven on three wasn’t great odds, but the bandits hadn’t just spent the past month being trained by Jorman.

“What’s the plan Johannes?” Anglin asked, he had his shield strapped to his arm already.

“They’re all in the tavern. I expect there’s a few locals, probably girls, that have been taken captive. Maybe the bar man and his family. They’ll be drinking up the ale, sun’s been down long enough for them to be drunk. There’s no room for subtlety here, they have hostages and we don’t know where. I’d say we barge in, blades shining. Kill all of them who won’t surrender.” Every second wasted was a chance for another local to get killed.

“That’s settled then. Let’s go.” Angven jumped back onto his sled. I gave one last look at the village, but nothing came to me. It’d just be a battle.

“Riga, when we go in, I want you to stay outside with a bow. If anyone comes out of that tavern, armed, that isn’t one of us, you put them down, alright?” I looked to the girl. She started to protest.

“I can fight! I trained just the same as you did!” She huffed.

“Riga, you’re half my size, and there are bigger men out there. Your place isn’t in a melee with men that can pick you up and break you over there knee with one hand. I need you intact so that you can help me heal the locals, especially if there’s a local girl that… Listen, just hide on the balcony of the house across the street, Karliene will be with you. If things go bad, you come up here and take a sled all the way back to Winterhold, tell the Jarl what happened. I can make it an order if you want, but you’re not coming into that tavern with us.” I put my foot down. Riga bit her tongue, and took her bow from the sled.

We made our way down the hill, and stayed in the darkness as much as possible. The night eye ring blended the dark and lit areas almost perfectly, so I ended up having to take it off so that I could tell when I was in the light. Riga crossed the street, and carefully got into position, my wolf beside her. Angven was first in line, shield and axe ready. All we had to do was turn the corner, bust in the door, and start chopping.

“Ready? Push!” I tapped him on the shoulder. We ran for the door, Angven pulled it open, and I was inside. The man closest to the door looked confused as he saw me, an all white figure trailing frost. The man was armed, a mace on his belt, but his armored jacket was open. I drove the point of my pole-axe into his heart, toppling the man out of his chair and forcing him to the ground.

“Who the!?! Arms! Fight!” Another man in the back yelled, he had one hand on a local girl, the other was reaching for a sword. I counted four bandits, including the one that had yelled, which left two unaccounted for. The twins charged in to control the center of the room, another bandit caught a steel blade on his brow before he’d managed to get out of his chair. After that, it was a brawl.

Angven caught an axe on his shield and kicked a bandit away, Anglin slashed one across the arm. Two charged for me, one was a bit closer. He had a sword drawn back for a thrust. The second one was still fumbling with the axe on his belt. The swordsman closed in, I raised my axe, timed the parry, and bashed the man in the face with my haft. He stumbled into a table, blood streaming from his broken nose, and didn’t have time to bring up his guard. His arm dropped to the floor still clutching his sword, a bloodsoaked axe blade flashing in the hearthlight. The second man was on me next, he ducked the thrust of my point and brought up a swipe with his own axe.

The strange feeling of possession coursed through me as I stepped to the left and leaned back, letting his axe blade skip off the steel plate of my armor. My foot lashed out for his knee as he passed by, steel shin boots won. The man was trying to get back to his feet when Anglin was forced over a table, shield raised in a desperate defense. The yelling bandit had a dagger, stabbing and swiping for the boy’s face. I raised my hand, and made my first combat use of Flames. They swept over the top of the shield, burning the flesh off the bandit’s arm. His face caught some of it as well.

“Finish him Anglin!” I yelled, before turning back to my own bandit. He crashed into me before I’d gotten around to face him. I felt a cold sting and warm blood where a dagger sliced into my arm. A different possession took hold of me, one from my old life, and I let my axe fall to the ground. My right arm lashed out at the hand holding the dagger, grabbing at the bandit’s wrist. He tried to pull back, but wasn’t fast enough. My left hand went for his collar, and then I spun, curling down towards the ground. The bandit flew over my shoulder and slammed into a table, he started screaming something awful.

The bandit had landed on a decorative piece, a spiked helm in the middle of the table. The spike had punched through his leg, and his free hand was trying to pull it out while we wrestled for the dagger. Something brushed against my leg, and a massive white shape grabbed hold of the bandit’s face. Icefoot started shaking with every ounce of muscle he had, until there was a loud pop and the bandit’s arm went limp.

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“Good boy! Good boy!” I left the paralyzed bandit where he hung off the table edge, Icefoot still mangling him. Anglin and Angven were fighting three on two, the other bandits had appeared from a side room. I knelt down to take up my axe again, when one of the twins went down hard, a sword stuck in his leg. Icefoot saw it, and went into a frenzy. The bandit that had gone in to finish the job paled in terror as the massive dog lunged and took him to the ground.

Two on two now. The remaining twin swung his sword, it was Anglin, and caught the bandit across the face with it. The man shrieked, but his friend tried to take advantage of the opening Anglin had left. A mace crashed into the boy’s shoulder, but left a conveniently exposed arm in the path of my axe. It severed at the elbow, blood jetted out and splattered across Anglin’s white vest. The twin spun, and bashed the rim of his shield into the disarmed bandit’s mouth. The man faltered two steps, tried to raise his hand, and lost two fingers when Anglin jammed his sword forwards. The blade sunk six inches into the bandit’s throat, withdrew, and plunged again into his chest. The bandit slumped down, trying to hold his throat closed with missing fingers.

“Angven! How bad is it?” I asked the downed twin. He was trying to pull himself up on a table.

“Missed the bone I think, gods that hurts.” He flopped into a chair. Anglin was making sure all of the bandits were dead. A little gasp sounded from beneath a table in the corner of the room when Anglin finished off the bandit that had lost an eye and a nose to his sword. I bent down to get a look, two girls were huddled together against the wall.

“It’s alright, you can come out. We’re the Jarl’s men. We aren’t going to hurt you.” I gestured for them. They seemed nervous, but slowly slid out from under the table.

“Are you two hurt?”

“No… but, Girda…” One of the girls ran for the side room. The other was petrified once she got a look at the gore splattered every which way. The floor was coated in blood. Three bandits had their throats sliced, or shredded, open, two suffered severed arms, and a plethora of other wounds were just adding to the mess. Icefoot let out a blood thirsty howl, his face stained red. The girl looked like she was about to faint.

“Hey, hey, don’t look at all that. Come over here.” I stepped towards her, and tried to bring her to a chair facing the door, the only direction that wasn’t completely drenched. We had to step over two bodies. I went to the door as I spoke to the girl.

“Just sit right there. Riga! Riga come in here, Angven’s hurt but we’re alive.” I opened the door partially, not wanting to expose my self in case our mage was feeling jumpy. The girl’s hand shot into the door way almost immediately, she’d been standing right outside.

“I thought, never mind. See to the twins.” I pointed her towards Angven. Riga paused as she stepped in, sharing a similar look to the girl I’d put facing the door. I saw a flicker of movement in the corner of my eye when I turned to look back outside, someone was peeking out from a house across the road.

“Hey! You!” I stepped into the door frame, revealing my self fully. I knew I had to look terrible, but that was a simple fact of fighting in melee. It was especially true when I specialized in bleed damage and limb removal. The figure in the door stepped out themselves, it was a man.

“Who are you?” The man asked cautiously, he was hiding his right hand behind the door frame.

“Johannes, Jarl Korir’s First Ranger. We came to help after we heard about the bandits. Are there any others in town?” I stepped into the street. The man still seemed unsure, but stepped out himself, a fine axe held loosely at his side.

“All of the bandits were in the tavern. My Daughter… Were there any girls?” He couldn’t bring himself to ask about bodies.

“Three girls, two I’ve seen are fine, just shaken by the fighting. Come in. Anyone else in the village listening, come out! The bandits are dead!” I shouted. The man across the street hobbled over, he had a bad limp in his leg. Once he got into the light, I could see that he’d been beaten bloody by the bandits.

“Go along inside. I have a healer if you’d like.” I motioned at his face.

“Thank you Ranger.” He bowed his head, and went in. The girl by the door wasn’t his. A few more people came out, a couple, an old woman, two younger boys. All of them had been brutalized somehow. The couple were the ones I got the best answers from.

“This village isn’t the largest, but is this really all there is? No more people hiding in their houses?”

“There are a few, but most of the men have left. A mammoth herd was spotted, they’ve gone to hunt one. I’m beginning to think the travelers that mentioned it were lying.” The woman scowled.

“By chance was it two men? One short, looked like an Imperial, the other tall, blonde, scar over one eye?” I asked, thinking back to the two bandits we’d executed at the camp.

“Aye, that was them. Bastards.” The man spat. One of his eyes was swollen shut.

“I can fix that if you’d like. I’m no master mage, but I know the basics.” I pointed to his eye. He assented, it took a moment, but I managed.

“Thank you friend. Maybe I’ve been wrong about mages.” He grinned.

“I’m no mage, not like that. Just useful things I’ve learned. Who was he?” I pointed to the body that I’d cut down from the tavern’s balcony.

“Hrolfin, the owner of the tavern. Poor Girda, she doesn’t have any family left. Her mother died last winter. Hrolfin was one of the Jarl’s thegns, he led the town. Always made sure that everyone had enough to eat.” The man grimaced at the body.

“Why’d they kill him?”

“He came out of his tavern with an axe, and took a swing at one of the bandits. He might have killed a few, the cowards feathered him. We ran out to fight, but they had the numbers and we didn’t see them coming. They arrived just after the sun set.” The man pointed to the two arrows stuck in the body. We’d been an hour late, a single hour.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner. The Jarl sent us out to hunt down the bandits, we only found out about your village by chance. We’ve wiped out three bandit gangs in the mountains in the past two days.” I made a gesture to the south.

“Three gangs? Where are the rest of your men?” The man seemed surprised.

“This is it. The guards are spread thin. I had to recruit local children to even have a party with me.” I smiled at Angven and Anglin, who were talking with the two young boys that had come along to see what the commotion was about.

“Dangerous children. I’d offer to join you, but after this, I don’t know that we could afford to lose any more men in the village. We’re only forty here, a dozen men of good fighting age, and eight of them are chasing ghost mammoths.” The man scowled again at the bodies we’d piled on the side of the tavern.

“It’s true everywhere. There either aren’t enough men, or there isn’t the money to outfit them. On that, we took a few hundred coins from these scum, it should go to you people here. The bounties for the bandits will pay our due.” I thought to the small fortune we’d stashed. Split evenly, it’d pay the four of us over a thousand pieces in the gold alone, probably two thousand with all the equipment, gems, and jewelry.

“That’s kind of you. It should go to Girda. She’ll be without family. For a while at least.” Girda had been the worst off of the three girls the bandits had taken. It hadn’t gotten too far, but she’d tried to stab one of the bandits after they killed her father. That had earned her a beating and a half. Riga spent most of the night with her. The healing didn’t take long, but the girl needed someone present.

We left the village the next morning to collect up the bit of gold I’d promised them, and made it back by midday. Our sleds were fully loaded with equipment, and we needed to report back to the Jarl with the information we’d gotten. It was a long trip, just at the edge of what we could make by nightfall, but we managed. Dinner was just wrapping up by the time we came into the hall. Jorman had to do a double take as he saw us, our armor was still covered in blood stains. The guards stared as we made our way up to the Jarl, it must have been the smell.