One thousand Golden Isles men had made it into the walls of the city, and were slaughtering Northmen left and right. Jon heard horns being blown from all over the city. The Northmen began to try to make it to the Jarls' tower, grouping up trying to survive. Jon and Raska were in a group of about one hundred men, all racing to the tower to protect their leaders.
All of the men's faces flushed as a good portion of the Golden isles men had them cut off. They outnumbered the Northmen almost three to one. The fight looked very bleak. Suddenly, a bright golden light gleamed from somewhere in the crowd of Northmen and began pushing towards the front. Jon Berskaggr emerged from the group, taking lead of the men with his golden axe, Reaper. Jon focused and charged Reaper with lightning energy, his weapon began humming and arcing as the Golden Isles men yelled and began to throw themselves towards the smaller force, determined to crush them. Jon readied his shield, Reaper being balanced on the rim. He waited until the men got close and swung his axe deep into the chest of the first man he saw, lightning humming in his body and exploding out of his back, rainkng blood, bone and gore down on him and striking the men directly behind them and knocking them off of their feet, leaving charred skin and cloth on their torsos. Jon began his killing spree, moving deeper and deeper into the crowd, where his weapon could not hurt his allies, due to lack of focus. Jon could easily decapitate a man with his imbued blade, the lightning bursting forth from the blade was powerful enough to blow the face off of all the men unfortunate enough to be standing behind the blow.
Everywhere Jon went the flash of blue or purple lightning and the cracking of thunder followed him. Some men screamed in agony as other men lay silent on the ground, smoking from electrical burns on their bodies, making their hearts still. The sheer force of numbers started to get to Jon and his last resort was to just swing and discharge his energy. Jon began swinging at empty air, loosing his bolts of lightning at any men close enough to be struck. The enemy began to back away from him or avoid him as they rushed to the smaller Northmen shield wall. This angered Jon and immediately he felt a burning sensation in his face, Jon thought of the heat and the flame inside of himself, letting the flame grow as his rage did. Weirdly, Jon felt very hot almost as if he were on fire. As soon as he had this feeling, deep red flames began shooting fiercely from his exposed skin. The flames formed a circle around Jon and kept growing as the enemy was consumed by it. Jon was surprised by the fire coming from himself and lost control of his spell, the flames coming from him extinguished immediately.
As Jon looked around most of the enemy was now dead, or laying on the ground burning, the closest enemies to him were already ash. The dead littered the entire space, the only ones left alive were the sixty or so men who had made it to the shield wall of the Northmen. Their lives were also in jeopardy as they were less well equipped, most lacking shields and some were only carrying clubs of wood. The sixty men were put to the sword and the Northmen suffered little casualties.
As the group began towards the tower, they found they were late as five hundred Northmen were defending the outside, a few hundred lay dead already. The bulk of the Golden Isles men remained numbering almost six hundred, as their dead were mingled in with the North's. The group of one hundred Northmen began to get as close to the back lines of the enemy without being detected. The Northmen were all hunters and knew how to walk quietly, so sneaking up on the enemy should not be hard. As the men began to get closer, the enemy was still unaware. The back line was so focused on giving their strength to the front men by pushing them, most of the men were grunting from exertion.
The Northmen had successfully sneaked behind them and began ripping men away from the back line, cutting their necks from ear to ear. This did not last more than a single wave as the Golden Isles men began to react, forcing the Northmen to go into shield wall formation. The Northmen successfully split the focus of the enemy, being divided like this would only lead to their downfall, as the lines were pushed back to back. The Northmen were bigger and stronger than the Golden Isles men, even the young men of less than twenty Winters were stronger than their full grown Golden Isles men. The Northmen easily repelled their advance now that they were split. Now with ground being gained, swords and pikes could now be driven into the unarmored chests and necks of the middle rows, the enemy dropped like flies.
Jon stuck to his role now, as this was not the time for drastic measures, for they knew if the fight was evenly numbered, the North would win. Surely enough, after an hour of maneuvering and squirming the Golden Isles men were defeated, none being able to leave as they were crushed between two armies. There would not be another attempt to take the city this Winter, as the men were all dead. Some Golden Isles men were lucky to have escaped, but they did not dare to bring any men back to try and retake the city, as they had seen the destructive force of the North.
Once the Northmen were actually able to regroup, the losses they suffered were minimal, considering the situation. The North had lost another three hundred men, leaving them with almost half of the men they left the Northern Kingdoms with.
Once things began to settle, Jarl Svygard sent a steward to fetch Jon and his father Raska. The Berskaggr men entered the Jarl's room, stood and waited for what the Jarl would say, as he was quiet this past week or two, obviously unsettled by the attacks on the city.