This was my third mission for Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun. I had already cleaned out two bandit camps, wielding steel in one hand and unleashing fire and lightning in the other. Lydia was not to be outdone; her eagerness to cover my back surprised me every time, and I slowly began to grasp the full weight of my recent title as Thane, especially the unshakable loyalty of Lydia as my huscarl, even if I was covered in scales rather than fur.
This time, the task was to deal with the giant at the Sleeping Tree camp. After having slain entire groups of bandits, it didn’t seem like too much of a challenge. As I neared the camp with Lydia on my heels, a muffled roar made me look up at the sky. That’s when I saw a large dark shape circling some distance above a nearby hill. A dragon! This threat seemed much more immediate than that of the giant, so I veered around the Sleeping Tree camp and rushed toward the flying creature. Two guards from Whiterun were already trying to hold their ground as best they could, despite their numerous injuries. Lydia loosed her first arrow as I focused to cast a fiery lightning bolt. The beast turned toward us, unleashing torrents of flame from its gaping maw. The voice of pain, though dulled by the enchantments of my armour, rang in my mind, but the excitement of the battle made it almost silent. As the dragon landed nearby to unleash its massive claws and fangs, I drew my mace, catching a glimpse of my huscarl charging at the beast, brandishing her axe. The battle was fierce, forcing the dragon to take to the air again to catch its breath. I had the foresight to pull healing potions from my belt as the other fighters rained arrows down from the sky. The back-and-forth continued for long minutes until the dragon landed once more. It would never take flight again. At the cost of much sweat and blood, we finally managed to bring the monster down. As we caught our breath, I felt its energy flow into me, the once-majestic beast now reduced to a pile of bones before our eyes. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, but the powers of a Dragonborn still never ceased to surprise me.
Buoyed by this victory, I decided to return to the Sleeping Tree camp, which was nearby. The giant was calmly making his way back toward the camp, accompanied by two placid mammoths. I almost felt pity for attacking these peaceful creatures, but the jarl needed to see the giant gone. My first arrow caught the giant completely off guard; he hadn’t seen me approach silently. I had time to fire two more before he reached me, his little herd following in tow. Lydia had already leaped onto one of the mammoths when I brought my mace down on the giant’s knee. He roared in pain, bellowing in fury. I managed to land several more blows before his tibia, in an awkward arc, slammed into the left side of my armour. As Lydia was trampled by two enraged mammoths, I heard my ribs crack in a horrible noise as my lungs emptied in an instant. The violence of the impact robbed me of all sensation, and I was surprised to see the giant quickly retreat from me, though he seemed almost motionless. My flight probably wasn’t as graceful as the dragon’s we had just slain, but I think I reached the same altitude. It wasn’t until I began my descent that I saw the entrance to a cave at one end of the camp, spotting a tall figure within. That’s when I realised I hadn’t attacked the right target, and that the giant in the cave was probably alone, with no mastodons to defend him…
