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Chapter IV

"The Warrior"

Vannius

20 years before the reformation of the Dawnguard

Vannius 17 years old

There's smoke in the distance, heavy rain beating down. I lean against a tree and watch. I've heard stories of the Iron Blood, burning and slaughtering villages on the border of Gildi. The north of Cyrodiil is completely under their heel. I start moving towards the village, the flames eating up the houses and the other buildings. According to the imperial soldiers on the roads, the Legion are finally ready to get a foothold in Gildi, seems Mede is finally using some of his war lord experience.

The shouts get louder and clearer the closer I get, the screams of the men and woman as the warriors go house to house, door to door. They're leaving no stone unturned. I draw my sword, the old iron blade is in desperate need of sharpening but its sharp enough to cut if need be. There's only one way to approach the Iron Blood and that's to prove your worth in battle.

"Help!" A woman screams, an imperial. She's soaked in blood, dragging a limping man along with a roughly forged steel sword. He trips in the deep mud pulling the woman down with him. "Please help us!" She shouts, grabbing onto my clothes and sword belt. I push her away, she falls onto her knees and a cries for help from what must have been the village guards.

I step into the middle of the village and watch the warriors as they fight the remaining guards. One of them runs off to the side and kicks in the inn's door. He quickly runs in with an iron mace. There's a loud scream from the house. One of the guards breaks his ranks and tries to run from the Nordic warriors, a pike quickly get thrust into his back.

"What do we have here?!" There's a shout from behind me, I turn to face the man who shouted. A Nord, tall and heavy built with a long braided beard, long hair hanging from his head. One eye. He walks over to me, iron axes in each hand. "Oi!" He roars at the other warriors around us, they break from what they're doing. "This… pathetic ilk wanders into our land!" He shouts, spreading his arms out, he turns on the spot. "Sword in hand!" He turns to me and raises one hand, pointing at me with the top of his axe. "Seems like a challenge to me!" He walks over to me, the axe still pointing at me.

I grip my sword tighter and move to the right, circle around him slightly. He rushes forward and swings the axe, I barely manage to raise my sword to defend myself, the axe hits the blade with more force then I was expecting and I feel the shock in my hands and run up my wrists. I stumble back slipping slightly in the mud, struggling to keep my footing. He gives out a bark of a laugh and swings his other axe, I'm quicker in blocking the swing this time but the force of the blades meeting hurts my arm more than I thought it would.

"Look at this!" He shouts, stepping back from me, I hold my sword in my left hand and flex my right. "Weakling carries a sword but doesn't know how to use it!" I step to the side slightly and rush forward, going in to try and stab my sword through his stomach, he slams his axe into the blade and knocks it from my grip, he swings the other axe straight for my face and I have to duck and roll under his arm to avoid the blade.

I come to a stop a few feet away and slip in the mud as I get to one knee and pull my dagger out. I feel a rough pull on my left arm and I turn and stab my dagger into whoever it was that grabbed me, they fall backing the mud, taking my dagger with them. Someone else grabs my right arm and pulls it back while someone quickly grabs my left again.

"Get the fuck off!" I shout at them as they force me fully onto my knees. A rag is forced into my mouth and then pulled back so I can't speak. I shake my head around to try and get them to lose their grip but they just pull down and force my face up. The rain pelts down around us as I kneel in the mud, the man with the axes walks over to us.

"Fetch the bar!" He orders, two men rush over with a wooden cross with a rope hanging from one end. The men behind me hoist me up, pulling my arms tight and pushing forward on the back of my shoulders. "Frokunn will want to meet this one." They lift me up and secure my arms around the cross section, forcing it up my arms and pushing forcefully into my back. "Get the horses!"

I fall onto my face, lying in the mud as the heavy cross lays on my back. I feel the rope start to go slack as I'm pulled up, my arms being held tightly as bite down on the knotted rag in my mouth. They drag me through the waterlogged field of mud in front of a large fort. It's mostly made of wood, cut logs supporting the walls, cobbled stone walls. They drag me into a large hall with a raised plat form on one side.

There's a large chair, not unlike a throne only nowhere near fancy enough. There's a man sat there, leather and iron armour covering his body. He has light brown hair, a bear that's be braided at the front. War paint covering his face, red running down his mouth and two lines going down from either eye. There's a half smashed skull on the floor, next to one of the chair legs, a splintered shield hanging from the ceiling.

I'm pushed onto my knees in front of him, the rag pulled out of my mouth. "He's an outsider." One of the warriors says, stepping forward. "Started a fight with Yrsagny."

The man gets to his feet and walks over to me, resting his hand on top of an iron sword, the pommel is dented and stained with old blood. "Started a fight with Yrsagny." He echoes walking around me, his footsteps heavy, chainmail clanking lowly. "And he's still alive?" His accent is heavy, though most of the Iron Blood warriors have strong accents. He hums low in his throat. "Not very impressive." He grumbles.

"Frokuun!" A man shouts, I look over to where the voice came from. It's a man with a walking stick, a heavy limp as he walks, he has greying hair. "Who's this?" He grumbles coming to a stop and leaning heavily on the stick. I look up properly and he gives me a strange look before turning back to Frokuun. "A boy looking for glory?" He grumbles out the question. "Before he gets stabbed over a bottle of mead and a chunk of bread."

"No." Frokuun grumbles in answer. "Kill him." He orders walking back to the chair.

My head is pulled back and an axe is pressed against my neck. "Wait!" I shout, struggling in the tight grips on my arms. "Wait!"

"Yes." The man with the limp calls. "Wait." He walks closer to me, looks back at Frokuun. "I say we wait, train him." He tells the other man. "At the very least Vighff can bloody his blade on him." Frokuun slumps down in his chair, props his elbow on his knee and leans forward. "It's about time he bloodied his sword with something other than a whore." Frokuun holds up a hand, must be a signal to wait before they slice my throat open. "I'll train the boy myself." He turns to look at Frokuun. "Make sure he doesn't scream too loud when he gets cut down."

Frokuun stands up again, hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. "Dead toes wants to train the boy!" He walks over to me, looks down. "Train him to cry when he gets stabbed." One of the other warriors goes up to him, passing him my sword. He holds it in his right hand, tests the balance by swinging it slightly. "Dull." He grumbles, he drops the iron longsword on the floor in front of me, it clatters loudly on the floor. "Fine, train him." He turns around and walks back to the chair. The grip on my arms relent and my head gets let go, I fall forward onto my hands.

The man with the limps walks over to me. "Follow me boy."

I fall onto the stone floor. My sword falling from my hand as I hit the hard floor. The warrior I was fighting storms away angrily as Dagmek limps over to me. Leans heavily onto the walking stick, rests his hand on a sword at his waist. "Need to stay on your feet boy." He mumbles, circling me. "If you fall you'll probably die." I get back to my feet, picking up my sword and lifting the wood and iron shield up. He leans his weight onto his good foot and tap the shield with his walking stick. "Keep that up or they'll break your skull."

I walk back towards the middle of the large room. One of the warriors walks over to me, swings his axe without warning, I lift up the shield, stumble back with the hit. I try to retaliate by swing the dulled sword but he easily steps out of the way, going in for another attack. Chips or wood break off my shield as he goes in for three quick hits, I stab with the sword to force him back. The tip of the blunt blade taps his chainmail as he moves back a few steps.

He moves in again and his axe hits my sword as I lift it quickly. I fall back onto my arse as I drop my shield. "That's enough!" Dagmek shouts. "Get up boy." He starts to limp away, stick thumping as he moves. "Go get some food down you." He stops walking and I put the dulled blade back into the weapons rack. "Get some fucking sleep and all."

I lean against the rack, and rub my arm slightly from where I landed on it repeatedly. I hear his stick thumping on the ground again as he walks. "Oi." I call to him, it stops. I turn to look at him. "Why you training me?" I ask, I'm knackered but I have to know.

Dagmek looks at the other man, the warrior. "Leave." He orders, the man looks like he's going to argue before he just huffs and walks off. "You really want to ask me boy?" He grumbles, walking towards me. "I saved you from getting your throat cut." He tells me. "That's how we kill the Imperial whores." He leans all his weight onto the stick. "You know why they call me dead toes?" I shake my head as I look down at his feet. "Yrsagny the Blind cut my foot in half." He grumbles. "Cunt didn't even give me a good death. Left me to live in shame." He growls. "A fucking cripple." He grumbles under his breath. "Vighff Mojenssen is his son and the youngest of the warriors and he needs to bloody himself." He leans in closer. "Maybe the son of Kvenknir Blood Eater can kill him." I look up at him, I know my eyes widen slightly, he hums to himself. "I know who you are. Frokuun probably does as well."

"You knew my father?" I ask the man in front of me. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly, hand rests on the hilt of his sword and he gives a small nod. "What happened to him?" I ask, look towards the doorway the warrior walked out of.

"He tried to challenge Frokuun." Dagmek mutters. "He lost." He starts to walk away. "Your father was a cunt." He tells me, stopping and putting his hand on the wall to lean. "I hope you kill Vighff but if you're half the man your father was then I hope you fall just as well." He turns to look at me over his shoulder. "You fight him in a month or so, try and learn something." He turns back and walks out, finally leaving me to eat and rest.

There's shouting, a lot of it from the main hall. I walk in, my shield held in my left hand, the leather strap loose enough to drop it if need be. Dagmek stands in front of me. I put my hand in the sodden ashes, wiping the black around my eyes, three lines going down my face.

He nods in a sort of approval. "War paint will scare small men." He grumbles, he mumbles something under his breath. "Not all." He walks back and away from me, over to Frokuun.

I walk closer to the middle of the main fall, my right hand strays to the hilt of my sword, fingers wrapping around it. I glance at Frokuun, the man who killed my father. A man I never met but all I've been told is he was a cunt with a soft spot for whores.

"So then." A man shouts, young voice. I turn to face him, Vighff, Yrsagny the Blind's son. Dagmek said he's only sixteen, he'll die today so I can live tomorrow. He's young looking, blond hair and some scruff on his face. No war paint. He pulls an axe free from his belt and readies himself, shield up. I draw my sword and hold it ready, facing him properly. "You're who I'm going to kill." He mocks.

He rushes forward, readying his axe. I take advantage of my swords reach and slash at him while putting some distance between us. He raises his shield and my blade scratches against it, leaving a jagged line in the wood. Vighff frows and then slams his axe down, I raise my shield to block the strike and then barge into him with my shield. Vighff stumbles back and falls onto his arse, raising his shield. Frokuun barks a laugh to my left. I take a few steps back, wait for a better time.

Vighff must've heard Frokuun's laugh, he gets back to his feet and grumbles something. He snarls and moves in again, swinging the axe I manage to parry the very aggressive attack with my sword. I take a few steps away, get some distance between us again. So he's that type of fighter, according to Dagmek there's three types of fighters, one's who use their head, one's who stab you in the back and then there's the ones who fight with pure emotion.

He reels back, getting as much weight behind the strike as he can get. I get myself ready for the hit, he comes in quick, quicker than I was expecting. The blade hits the shield, digging into the wood. I pull back as he pulls it free, swinging it again splinters flying from my shield. I stumble back a few steps, he jumps at me a slams the axe down into my shield. I drop down to one knee to block it easier. The wood in the middle completely splinters, the shield cracks in half. I slash out with my sword, making his move away.

I get back to my feet and drop the shield on the floor, bring my sword to the middle of my stance, both hands on the hilt. "Just fucking kill him!" Yrsagny shouts from my right. Vighff smirks and rushes in, he swings his axe. I move my sword and parry the blow, sliding the blade down the handle and bring the blade down over his fingers. Vighff cries out slightly and pulls back, dropping the axe onto the floor. He moves back, clutching his hand to his stomach and bringing his shield up. "I said fucking kill him!" Yrsagny shouts at his son again.

He rushes at me again, no weapon now. He tries to hit my with the shield, I manage to put my arm behind it and slice my sword along his stomach. He cries out again and falls onto his knees. I stab down at him, the tip of the blade stabbing deeply into the wood. I kick the shield hard, pulling the sword free. He falls onto his back, the shield falling to his side. He scrambles onto his knees as I walk towards him.

"I yield!" He shouts, holding his hands up. I stop moving towards him and hold my sword up. "Please I yield!" He repeats. I hold the sword upside down and stab down into his chest, I don't stop forcing it down until I hear the tip hit stone. I stumble back a few steps, and wipe the back of my hand against my eye.

Yrsagny storms towards me and his now dead son, shouts something I can't quite make out and holds one of his axes ready. Frokuun moves forward, he holds his long sword out. Yrsagny continues forward until the blade pushes against his bare chest. "Your son died a coward." Frokuun tells him. "Killed by a man with three months of training." The entire hall is silent, I watch Yrsagny stare at me and then turn to Frokuun. "Do you want to join him in the ground?" He asks, taking another step forward, drawing blood this time.

He grinds his jaw and then throws his axe onto the floor, spits at his son. Walks out of the hall, pushing his way out through the crowd. Frokuun pulls my sword free from the body that slumps over without the sword propping it up. He pushes it into my chest, I take it and let my arm fall to my side, he slaps me on the shoulder and walks away.

Dagmek limps over to me. He stares down at the body then looks at me, nods his head slightly. "You'll learn not to care." He mutters before walking away. I hope I don't. I need to care.