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Unbound Familiar

An avid gamer nerd's dreams come true in another brutal yet lucky? fashion. Follow him as he does his best not to die in laughably humiliating ways, all while trying to escape his abrupt and unwanted servitude. Will his knowledge of the world he finds himself help him succeed? Will he return home? Will evolve past his title of 'Dog'? Read and find out! This will be another multiversal world-hopping story, similar to my other one, EBW. I'll not spoil the surprise of the first world, but Skyrim will eventually be involved... And no, I'll not be adhering to plot, instead destroying it and hopefully not butchering the original story in the process. Feel free to join my Discord : https://discord.gg/EJxRKkwtDm Also, if you enjoy my stories, want to read ahead, and or support me. Take a look at my Patreon : https://www.p.atreon.com/Nagross Also, I've 'borrowed' the picture from : greenmapple17, on Deviant Art.

Niggross · Video Games
Not enough ratings
713 Chs

First Move

Soon enough, the attacking force reaches their destination, the Forsworn seemed to already be aware of them, so the Falkreath forces threw away any notion of stealth. A few hundred meters away from the Cracked Tusk Keep, Stormcloak archers sprung from behind the treeline with their bows already raised.

"Loose!" Galmar shouts, allowing his men to unleash their 'hot' ammunition.

The Forsworn give alerted shouts at this, but they are unable to do anything to prevent the volley of arrows that strike the log-wall fortifications.

*THWOOM!*

As if it were covered with oil sections of the wooden wall go up into flames. The Forsworn standing nearby them leap away or run in terror at the sudden conflagration, thinking that they'd be the next target if they stood around.

Some Forsworn stood their ground however, shooting back in retaliation... Unfortunately for them, the Stormcloak's had the high ground, making most of the Forsworn arrows miss, or lose so much power in transit that they were unable to breach the boiled leather and chainmail armour.

A few Forsworn mages quickly set to work on extinguishing the flames via Frost spells, but it's a slow-going effort due to the alchemical concoction that was used in their creation. Another volley of arrows later and the mages give up their futile attempts, likely thinking that there were more arrows like that to come.

Unbeknownst to them, the second volley was the last of the alchemical arrows, if they had just continued their efforts, they may have saved part of the wall... But now it was too late.

"Essence of all magic and death! Show my enemies what true might really is! Show them the hand that truly guides them!-"

Michael hears Megumin's chant and feels his heart drop, unable to leave the Jarl's side without being called a coward, she continues and finally finishes it...

"Make the world tremble! Explosion!" Megumin finishes, but doesn't twirl her staff, nor do magical circles form around her... Instead, many Fire Destruction Runes form along the tops of the walls where the Forsworn were standing.

A small lull of silence reigns as the runes take a moment to activate... And then.

*BOOOM!*

An explosion brings down what was left of the wall, additionally killing thirty or forty Forsworn as it all collapses.

"Haha! Take that you goat fuckers!" Jarl Dengeir laughs as the Forsworn scramble to create a sort of shield wall behind the burning remains of their wall, but they were struggling to withstand the continual volley of arrows, they'd probably flee as soon as the Stormcloak forces charged them.

Michael glances over his shoulder to congratulate Megumin on a job well done, but... She was currently laying face first on the ground with Tiffania next to her trying to help her up. Seems like she'd still used too much mana... Figures. To be frank, he was surprised that she was even able to cast Fire Runes so far in the first place...

Michael follows Jarl Dengeir closely as he leads his men forwards, his armour easily deflecting any stray shot that came to him. The man retrieves two average-sized vials before throwing them onto the burning remains of the wall, causing heavy smoke to billow out and smother it... Seems like such tactics weren't uncommon in this world.

With the flames smothered, Dengeir roars for the army to charge and it is parroted by Galmar who was on the Eastern front. Michael charges alongside him, slamming his shoulder into a Forsworn shield before thrusting his ebony sword through the unlucky man's unprotected neck... Their furs were no match for Michael, Dengeir's, or even the Stormcloak's weapons and armour. So while some more skilled Forsworn were holding the men off, it was only a matter of time before their frontline collapses.

Nearby, a shadow opens up behind from the ground and a shadowed claw wielding Derflinger pops up, stabbing a surprised Forsworn in the back as the sentient blade laughs. "Another!" he shouts, prompting Darth to skewer another man, and another.

The Falkreath forces were put off by the strange sight but ignored it for now as the creature appeared to be on their side.

Unfortunately, this was where the success for Falkreath started to falter, as Newmi and the Hag Ravens had made an appearance, along with the Forsworn's elite units... Briar-Hearts.

A Stormcloak soldier yells in fear as a Briar-Heart wielding an axe barrels into him, easily deflecting his sword and shield before cutting one of his arms off. Even after dealing the crippling injury the Briar-Heart wasn't finished, breaking the man's knee with a kick and bringing him low before crushing his head with an unbelievably strong stomp.

"RAAAGH!" the Briar-Heart roars, striking fear into some of the Stormcloak forces as they move to flank it.

The Briar-Heart kills another, but a flanking sword successfully finds its mark, burying itself into the Forsworn's side, puncturing a lung and likely many other vital organs.

"Y-yeah!" the Stormcloak yells but is taken off guard as a fist crushes his face. The Briar-Heart pulls put the blade sticking from its side as if it were nothing and continues its rampage. The blood seeping from its wound had already mysteriously clotted.

"M-Monster!"

"Fucking abominations!" Dengeir growls as he barely fends off another Briar-Heart, his heavy warhammer easily getting deflected by the pale-skinned fur-wearing man. "Fire! Use fire to kill these undead fucks!" he commands and Michael obliges.

"Dragon Slave!" he shouts, throwing out a massive gout of flames in the shape of a dragon that burns through the Briar-Heart and many other Forsworn behind it.

Despite the powerful attack it still wasn't dead however, the Briar-Heart sitting in the open cavity of the man's chest where his heart should be, glows intensely as it pulses like a heartbeat. The Briar-Heart's skin had all but been scorched into black charcoal, but it continued to try and move... Until Dengeir crushes the thing by planting his warhammer into its chest, causing the creature to instantly drop dead.

"That'll show you! Damned monster!"

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