[i]This great read was brought to by [@Peik] and the Schaft.[/i]

[i]''Huh?''[/i]

There was nothing but a gray blur. Sadri felt cold all over - he did not know why, but he was cold. Though he couldn't help but feel a warmth dripping from his right eye. His right hand searched for the source of the warmth on his face, but couldn't find anything. He decided to get up, - was he on the ground? He did not know - leaning on his right arm, and fell. Where had his arm gone? Sadri looked for his arm, but it looked like a fabric of grey was pressed onto his face. He couldn't make out much. He did not see his arm. He could feel it, though. One of his senses was wrong.

He wiped his face with his left hand, and brought his fingers to his mouth. The rusty, warm liquid was familiar. He couldn't make out its name, though. Where was he?

[i]''Get a grip. Gotta get a grip.''[/i]

Sadri blinked over and over until his vision cleared some more, and as the blur went away, memories started to take its place. He was in Skyrim. His arm had been lost for a few years. He was bleeding from the eye, and it hurt all over. He was smashed into a wall by a giant.

Wait, that last part didn't make much sense. He still had some trouble piecing it together. He looked around. He was sure there was a commotion. Bells ringing. People shouting. Bones cracking. His whole body felt like a wasp nest. It was horrible. He had to get up. He crawled some, and finally managed to get up, supporting his body with his left arm. Raising his head, he checked his surroundings. He felt out of his element.

The father of the girl -[i]what girl?[/i]- was there. There was a lump of humanoid-looking iron in front of him. It was bleeding. -[i]can iron bleed?[/i]- The man didn't look so good himself. Obviously, there was something going on.

''Oh. Hey.'' 

"Sleeping, eh?" Jorwen had the crook of a smile on his split lip. He used his sleeve to wipe blood from a gash in his forehead, "Ain't that ten lashes for doing that on duty?"

He reached down and took hold of the Dunmer's arm, hauling him up and slapping dust off his shoulder. He pointed over the ragged and weary shieldwall they were behind towards the group of metal-clad giants on the other side. They were bearing down on them like mountains and to some of the men, he was sure, facing them with their twig-weapons seemed much akin to fighting a mountain. It was no secret in their eyes that they were on the verge of breaking, but it was all Jorwen could do to try to keep them together. If only for a bit, just as long as he could and maybe his family would be safe, maybe they'd break the giants' resolve. But praying now was wasted, leaves on the water. Another giant clambered over the barricade blocking the pier and took a man's shield from him before beating him to death with it. The men around him all edged back from the carnage, jabbing half-heartedly at the big thing. Just like the others, it continued, unperturbed. It smashed the man's head open with all the care of a brick-layer. Jorwen held with the men, nothing they could do for the lad now. Just think about holding the damned line, that's it. "You feel healthy enough to kill something, Dunmer?"

That's a joke. Yeah, that's a joke. Or is it? Sadri wasn't all too sure. I mean, in front of him was an ironclad troll-thing. Sadri wasn't all too sure. Definitely he wasn't. He didn't want to get lashed. That hurt like fucking hell, y'know? It just... Sadri was getting dragged off. He was going to get something worse than a lashing if he didn't get his mind back on track soon.

The Nord pulled him up to a more stable position. The sudden tension on his arm and the rest of his muscles as he was hoisted up to a better composure sent a pain through all his muscles that burnt through Sadri's mind, cleansing it from all the confusion caused by the trauma. He could feel the gears in his brain turn the correct way now (whether he had gears in his brain or not, he didn't want to find out). Right. There was a job that needed to be done. [i]''Hold the line.''[/i] He had been through much worse before. Sizzling muscles and some bleeding wasn't jack shit. His hand still worked. His other arm wasn't broken. That meant he had no excuse not to wield his sword. And Sadri wasn't a man who would slack off from work anyway. Especially not this sort of work.

''You feel healthy enough to kill something, Dunmer?'' 

Sadri chuckled softly. It felt like his eye was going to burst out of his socket when he did. ''Never better, captain. What do we do now?'' He said, somewhat weakly, while unsheathing his sword from his sash.

"We kill." Jorwen said through a heavy frown, "Follow me. I'll take his attention, go for the groin or the armpits. Back of the knee."

Fighting well-armored opponents wasn't foreign to Jorwen. He'd bested mercenaries coming after their reward on the road, puffed up with suits of armor from Cyrodiil or High Rock. It was a constant thing, and a lesson he taught more times than he could count- when he knocked, men opened. He hoped these giants would too, of course, he kept that doubt to himself. Last thing the men needed was his doubt to weigh them all down. Say one thing about Jorwen, and you can say he hits damn hard. With a loud roar, meant to grab the big bastard's attention and give Sadri the giant's broad backside to work with, he smashed his blade straight into the helmet of the thing. He swung so hard, the impact near took the sword right out of his hand, but the giant faltered, stumbled a bit on unsteady legs. The giant, foreboding axe in his fists dropped from one hand and the head clattered to the ground. If any time was the best time for Sadri to get to work, it was now.

Considering what the Nord had just asked him, Sadri's question felt somewhat stupid, and the man's answer all too obvious in retrospect. Sadri felt dumb for asking it, but now was not the time for feeling - it was time for action. 

Sadri followed Jorwen with his sword in hand. Jorwen gave the impression of a trap waiting to be sprung with his tensed muscles, and Sadri found that normal considering just how much strength would be needed to even stun one of the foes they faced right now. Charging a giant clad in iron was not something Sadri had done before. He had fought a fully armored Orc that could count as a giant decades ago, but this was something else. An Orc couldn't just backhand you into a wall. Not Sadri, at least. But these things could. It was like fighting Imga all over again, except this time they were huge, well armed, and armored.

Jorwen's arms sprung just when Sadri expected them to, right as the man's thunderous roar concluded. Right as the sword in the Nord's hand smashed against the metal helmet of the creature, Sadri threw himself diagonally to the beast's side, hoping to make a backswing that would hit a good spot. Still disoriented thanks to Jorwen's blow, the creature fell on one knee and dropped its weapon with a clang. Eyes locked on the bent knee of the beast, Sadri sprung himself from his spot, his left hand grasping the ricasso of the blade. With Sadri's weight, energy and frustration behind it, the blade pierced through flesh, hide and bone, stopping only when coming into contact with the back of the creature's poleyn, denting it outward with a clang. Sadri pulled the blade out quickly, leaving a spring of blood behind it. He knew the thrust wouldn't be immediately fatal, but Sadri also knew that the creature wouldn't be able to stand on its two feet ever again. Hopefully the creature wouldn't need another hit.

The thing's leg buckled from under it, as if he'd lost all life in it. It sprawled out on all fours and looked up at Jorwen in time for him to boot it in the face hard enough to crunch its neck into itself and it fell limp. Dead or unconscious, Jorwen didn't know, but he didn't want to be disappointed. He stomped down on the giant's neck as hard as he could once, two, three times, hearing cracks on the second and third. He stood panting over the fallen giant but raised his sword in time to parry a swing of an axe, its edge taking coiled shavings from Jorwen's own sword. It wasn't the first wound the blade had taken and it wouldn't be the last. The thing barreled into him with all the force and ferocity of a bull. Jorwen fell back to be surrounded by the shields of the others. Another terrible swing cleaved one man's shield and took him off his feet, blood spattering Jorwen's face and getting in his mouth. He spat, rose, and shoved one of the lads out of the way. He kicked out and caught the beast in the knee, snapping something and the giant stepped back. It raised a hand as Jorwen's sword came down and split it down the middle, bloody to the wrist. It was a short feeling of victory as it wildly swung its axe in a wild arc over Jorwen's head and lifting two lads into the air and onto the ground, limp. It went for a backswing, but Jorwen made a big, wide, heavy swing for its exposed other leg but it shifted and ran straight into him. It barreled through him and two other men behind him. It was in amongst the men now and flailing its tree-trunk arm and heavy axe in all directions, making sure they stayed well away from him. It was bad, and Jorwen was angry, but the lads seemed ready to break. The thing was frenzied and clouded by panic, and he looked to Sadri, hoping he could work the same tricks again.

Sadri couldn't feel help but feel bad for the creature for a moment. Getting curb-stomped by an angry Nord certainly wasn't a very nice way to go, whether you be man, mer, beast, or whatever the fuck like these things. But he could understand Jorwen's anger. Getting shoved around like a fucking towel had pissed Sadri off too, and despite his swollen eye hurting like hell, the frustration, adrenaline and anger that sourced from these beasts' interruption of their well-earned rest had easily pushed him over the edge. Sure, it was a horrible way, but these fucks had it coming. A mercenary is most dangerous when he or she is frustrated. [i]''Could've just-''[/i]

Sadri immediately threw himself back as another beast swung an axe in their direction, missing him by a few inches. Jorwen seemed to barely parry the hit with his large sword, unable to dodge the hit. This one seemed hell-bent on getting Jorwen, perhaps to avenge his comrade's rather unsettling demise. It threw itself forwards, ramming Jorwen like a bull, sending him flying amongst the rest of the warriors. Sadri started following the fight, albeit cautiously - these things had a lot of reach, and he didn't want to get chopped in half by a missed swing.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it), these fierce swings missed Sadri and Jorwen, instead chopping up others who were in the way. But the creature's assault was momentarily repelled by Jorwen, who caved in the beast's knee with a strong kick and then lodged his sword in its hand via a strong overhead swing. This, however, seemed to only enrage the armored ape further. In a berserk rage, the creature dashed right into the formation and began swinging its wide-bladed axe wildly, spilling body parts and blood everywhere.

Realizing his position between a rock and a hard place, Sadri decided to go with the easier route - take out the single beast and then retreat alongside the allies. Considering that the other option was to face the rest of these beasts alone, this one was much more sensible - yet still suicidal in itself. Deciding to wait no further, Sadri took off with a mad dash for the armored creature, springing his sword arm backwards for a strong swing. The moment he got in reach, Sadri immediately struck his sword overhead and onto the back of the ape's head. Miraculously, the metal of the helmet caved in, dented deep but not opened, under the weight of Sadri's blade, and a small amount of blood burst forward from the visor of the beast, overwhelmed with pressure. The beast slumped forwards and fell like a drunkard after the strike, twitching and seeping blood from the front of the helm still, leaving Sadri face to face with the survivors of the group and Jorwen. 

''Holy shit.'' Sadri muttered to himself. He was certainly upping the ante. 

"Fuck." Jorwen muttered, his mouth hanging open as he pushed his helmet out of his eyes at the sight. The strap had come loose, so he ripped it from his head and discarded it. He'd get a new one if he survived this. He might even buy Sadri a drink if they both did. Gods knew they earned it, or he knew, anyway. There were still a few pushing their way through the splintered barricades and his lads were fixing to run. He shook his head and spat, so much blood for so little of the giants'. Growling, he turned back to his men, "Fall back to the other pier and fucking hold this time! You want to live another day and woo some farmer's daughter to fuck you, you'll hold, you dogs!"

A half-hearted yell rose up from the men as they beat their shields. It wasn't as enthusiastic as he may have wanted it to be, but any kind of response was better than the one that ended with him standing alone with his ass to these giants. He didn't want to die on these docks, really wasn't fixed on dying at all if he could help it. But the beasts had made it past the barricade looking set on giving him their opinions on that. He backed away, facing them, making sure he had his front to them. They moved up as a group this time, not having to play at who could climb over the barrier first to get picked off. These last few had been smart. One of them came at him, screaming his lungs out with his big maul over his head and took another swing. Jorwen managed to move in time but it caught a lad in his shield's boss and sent him twirling away. It'd have been a funny sight if he didn't have a mountain of iron and muscle trying to kill him. The giant took another wide swing and left himself exposed on his side. Jorwen brought his sword over his head and down onto the thing's shoulder-plate, hopefully breaking something. He dodged right and the thing's maul smashed open a crate of wheat. Another swing didn't manage to cave in Jorwen's chest, but it caught him on the side. He could hear his chainmail links snapping as he clutched his aching stomach and plowed straight into another crate, the added pain of breaking it open making him howl. The giant came on, hefted his maul in the air and let out a loud warcry. Terrifying, sure, but stupid too. Jorwen grasped up what had spilled from the crate and threw it in the giant's face. Fire salts, he saw as he looked at his hand, stained orange and red with it, and a little warmer. He looked back to see the giant clutching at his face and flailing about before falling off the pier, taking another with him. They didn't even float, he saw, just sank straight down. [i]The salts,[/i] he gawped down at the black water of the pier where no view of the big beasts could be seen. "The salts." He muttered, quieter than anyone could hear, especially over the ruckus of battle. "The salts!"

Some of them men looked at him and he pointed to the crates of fire salts, one of them broken open already by him. "Get those to the gates and I'll buy you all drinks if we get out of this."

They seemed to have perked up at that and nodded to each other before nodding at him, "Aye, Chief."

Jorwen waved his hand to signal Sadri and the pair hefted some of the crates as they made their way to the rear, grunting and swearing with the work of it. "Battle," Jorwen chuckled, more than a little relieved to be going to the rear, he looked at Sadri next to him, "Fucking younger man's game, eh?"

''Couldn't agree more.''