Game of Dragonborn.

Chapter 126 - The State of Bear Island.

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

Third Person POV.
The Gift.

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The ironborn were advancing through the dry northern areas with the intention of seeing if there was any truth to the rumor that 200,000 wildlings had crossed the Wall, which would be quite problematic for them as they were spread across the North, pillaging.

They continued for the next few days, a group of hundreds moving forward, taking care not to be seen while even mapping villages to attack if given the chance, while ambushing some hunters, eliminating them before they could escape.

Everything seemed normal as they woke up in the middle of their camp in a very dry forest, but there was something wrong in the atmosphere that morning, as the leader looked out over the barren place.

"Something's wrong..." he murmured as they looked toward the center of the place filled with trees, only a few of them full of leaves.

"Should we warn the men?" another companion murmured as they were eating in front of a campfire, along with others who assisted in leading the group, gathered there with their leader.

"Yes..." the leader murmured, feeling a terrible sense about that atmosphere. He stood up, grabbing his axe.

"Quick, prepare for any attack!" he exclaimed, pointing to the rest of the camp as the men looked on in surprise at their leader's sudden command.

"Quick! Grab your weapons!" the other leaders shouted, prompting them to move quickly, when a sound cutting through the air was suddenly heard, and they looked back.

The leader of the group stood there, eyes dazed, letting out faint groans in disbelief at what was happening, frozen with an arrow lodged in his neck, blood gushing out.

"This..." his companions could barely comprehend it before seeing him collapse to the ground.

"Enemy attack!!!" one of them shouted immediately as arrows cut through the air by the dozens, flying from the forest, while men began to appear in the distance. The same man who had shouted was hit as well, falling dead to the ground.

The rain of arrows began to strike the camp, killing dozens of them as the ironborn hurriedly grabbed their shields while the arrows began to bring down the first men.

The forest was quickly overrun, the free folk advancing with weapons in hand, surrounding the camp as the ironborn began to launch their counterattacks, while the arrows ceased.

The ironborn were desperate as they started dying quickly, reduced to a small group while Tormund himself led the free folk, cutting down anyone in his path while laughing with a blood-covered face.

Some tried to escape, fleeing in the opposite direction, but they didn't get far, quickly caught and killed by direwolves.

It didn't take long for things to settle down, as all over 200 ironborn were killed. This was the first group, while Jon walked through the camp, not having participated in the battle beyond firing a few hidden arrows from the forest before more archers joined him.

He passed through calmly, looking over the place filled with corpses. The ironborn were not good group fighters like those from other kingdoms, as their activity was more about raiding and looting like pirates, but they should have known how to act better as a group than the free folk — well, that was before Jon had trained them beyond the Wall.

In short, the free folk suffered half a dozen deaths while all 200 ironborn were wiped out in the surprise attack.

"Hahaha. Finally, a bit of action!" Tormund was celebrating as he pulled his axe from a corpse's head.