Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic – ASOIAF/GOT GOT

[Chapter Size: 2000 Words.]

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Jon Snow POV

Somewhere beyond the Wall, 290 AC, 2 moons later.

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Two months after the encounter in King's Landing, Jon had been east for six weeks searching for the great weirwood he was assigned to find. During this time, his tribe, which only stopped to rest for a few days, went up a mountain where they encountered 300 giants and 50 mammoths. After an intense confrontation and much discussion, they managed to convince them to join the Artican tribe. Jon had already done this with the first tribe of giants and now repeated the feat with these giants. Demonstrating his potential, he was accepted as leader due to his strength and powers at a young age. Jon envisioned making them a tribe with an unlimited future. He united 12 more tribes that witnessed the power of the Artican tribe. No one wanted to oppose and everyone wished to join this promising king who was passing through the lands to the North. Now, he counted more than 400 giants in his tribe and thousands of people.

There was much opposition from the new tribe members, especially when Jon began to punish them for their crimes that violated laws he himself established. He declared loudly and clearly to all: "If you want to live like barbarians, you are invited to leave the tribe before you lose your head after committing a crime under our tribe." Then, a series of fights began. Along with Ducken, Jon himself fought sometimes only to win over those he believed could help the tribe, but he killed those who would be a problem later. The boy, fighting against giants and adult men, then had no great trouble making combat with some wild men. Seeing a 9-year-old child defeating various adults, they later accepted him as their leader, since besides strength, Jon could create trees and food from the frozen ground, making most accept that the boy was blessed by the gods.

Some people refused to join the Artican tribe when they realized they could not maintain their barbaric customs. Rumors of a child leading a great tribe and becoming a king spread throughout the region. Many smaller tribes sought to join the Artican. However, many were angry at the idea of a southern child commanding the free people and began to unite in opposition each week across the region.

A few weeks later, Jon was now contemplating the horizon where a crowd tried to block his passage. A large group, resulting from the union of several tribes under a larger one, had more than 5,000 people and 3,000 warriors willing to face the Artican tribe to stop the madness of the southern child.

The Artican tribe, in turn, had grown considerably in number and strength. Wherever they went, more tribes wanted to join them. Now, they counted 4,000 people and 2,500 warriors.

'It's a large number that wants to stop us...' The boy reflected with the vision of the opposition in front of him.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jon smiled in front of his enemies. With each passing day, his blood boiled more, ready to eliminate any threat to his people. 'They may have 500 more men,' he thought, 'but they made a fatal mistake: now we have 400 giants.'

In the last moons that followed to the north, Jon and his tribe stopped for a few days to feed the people and make weapons. In collaboration with William and the giants themselves, they produced 200 bows capable of hitting targets 300~400 meters away — a significant advantage in open field. Jon also produced 20 pots of 5 kilos of wildfire. Although resources were scarce here, limiting production, these weapons would be crucial to demonstrating his power and avoiding future wars after what will happen today. He improved the wildfire from King's Landing, creating a version that explodes like a grenade before igniting everything around, he called it WF1.

The Artican tribe was already ready for battle a few hours ago in a field that favored their tactics. With aerial lookouts and the expectation of warg attacks, Jon hid his animals before the confrontation, planning to surprise and annihilate all the enemy wargs at once.

"I want the 200 giants using tree trunks at the forefront; this will serve as shields against the enemy advance. And I want 200 archers positioned 300-400 meters right behind them," Jon instructed with determination under Ducken's tutelage. "We need men ready to strike both flanks, right and left. We will finish them off all at once, understand?!" Jon's words were met with roars of approval from the tribe captains. It was their first battle, and although he hadn't had time to train the army, he hoped his plan would be successful against their current enemy.

The enemies realized they would be confronted and also prepared, oblivious to what really awaited them. Jon predicted that the people there would not hesitate and waited for the enemy to attack recklessly. He was right, and soon saw 3,000 enemies running towards him in the open field he had chosen, perfect for his ambush. Seeing the enemies advancing was magnificent; the ground trembled and his blood pulsed, ready for battle, despite his young 9 years.

"Archers! Aim at 45 degrees!" Ducken ordered, raising his sword. The 200 giants adjusted their arrows according to Jon's military leader's instructions. Jon had studied some tactics in war books and wanted to have more control over his archers, so he passed some things to Ducken despite his experience. During the journey, he taught the giants to understand that shooting straight was 0 degrees and upward from the head would be 90 degrees; therefore, 45 degrees was the midpoint. He intended to hit more than one enemy with each arrow, hoping that as it descended, the arrow would penetrate a target and hit others behind with the same 1-meter projectile. Jon helped with William and the giants to produce 1000 arrows with trees, providing 5 arrows for each archer. As soon as the enemy entered the 400-meter line, Ducken pointed with the sword, signaling the attack.

"On my signal!" Ducken shouted in the old tongue, watching the freefolk enemies approach, unaware of the danger that awaited them soon. With 200 giants forming the front line and concealing another 200 giant archers, Jon had given the instruction of how to aim to annihilate the enemy to prevent surprise attacks on the camp during the night with the remnants.

He knew he needed to demoralize the enemy to the point of making them give up seeking revenge, thus protecting the innocents who were part of his tribe. As the group of freefolk advanced, Jon felt the excitement of battle and a fierce joy invaded his being. His army was ready for the assault, with Jon, his army, the animals, and the giants ready to confront the enemy head-on, while the rest of the troops would attack from the flanks. He watched the enemy group hit the 300-meter mark.

"Fire!" Jon heard Ducken finally shout, initiating the battle.

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POV Moshid Freefolk:

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We were launching an attack against this strange nomadic group, totaling 3,000 warriors after a vast union of rival tribes. Our opponent, we thought, consisted of 2,500 warriors. To our surprise, they were accompanied by giants, a sight we had never witnessed in such large numbers, except in stories about Mance's camp, which years ago invited us to cross the Wall along with the Thenns when he passed through the region.

The discovery of the group by wargs captured all the attention of our tribe. As conquerors, we had formed one of the most powerful tribes in the southeast of the true North in the last 20 years. We were few compared to the 30,000 gathered by Mance, but our pride was great. We refused to join him, as we did not wish to submit to anyone. We were aware of the challenges we would face against the nomadic tribe, especially because they had more warriors than us. However, when the wargs reported to us about the abundance of food and weapons the tribe possessed, greed consumed us. Moshid was among the most eager to attack them. We began to gather all the tribes we could for the confrontation in the region with the promise of dividing the gains from the battle. From 1,800 warriors, we increased our number to 3,000 under the claim of preventing a southern child from becoming our king and to take possession of their resources.

"We would be much more powerful with their weapons," he roared at the meeting with the leader. We found an open field in our path, planning to surprise them and conquer through chaos. But strangely, they were already prepared. We realized this as we began to lose all our wargs. As we advanced, reports of Warg dying started one after another creating a minor chaos, then I found it strange to see only half of the reported giants, but we didn't waste more time and attacked them. We were running at 300 meters when we heard a screeching sound coming from behind the 200 giants and something slicing the air in our direction. Suddenly, my companions were thrown back by 1-meter arrows piercing their bodies. It was surreal. We lost about 400 men to the enemy in that attack if I am not mistaken. Our advantage of 500 more men dissipated in the first moment, and we hadn't even reached the other tribe yet. But we continued; doubts would mean death on the bloody field.

At 250 meters, we heard another roar and another 300 companions fell dead or incapacitated. When we reached 200 meters, more sounds and arrows flew again. We were the target at the front line, and it seemed like the enemy was mocking us with each volley of giant arrows. At 150 meters, more shots were fired, other arrows flew when we were 100 meters away. But it was at 80 meters that hell began. We were already demoralized, as even if we weren't the direct target, our brothers behind us were not so lucky. How many were we now? A thousand? Less than a thousand?

Our group lost more than 60% in a battle we thought we would easily win before even reaching the enemy. It seems that the powerful group from the southeast finally met defeat due to their greed. And when we reached 80 meters, there was an explosion behind us that stunned everyone. We saw that the retreat path was in green flames. Suddenly, there was an opening between the giants, and something unforgettable was coming in our direction: gigantic animals, larger than normal, some in armor. A boy led them, with more than 30 of them, followed by about 300 giants running to end the battle. The ground never trembled so much. With no way out to retreat and the rear in flames, we were trapped. I thought of running to one side, but soon the flanks were surrounded by other freefolk from the rival tribe. The battle, which was supposed to be hard but winnable, became a massacre. I saw my companions dying without a chance to defend themselves like slaughtered animals. We were being crushed, and I saw the boy mounted on the wolf massacring my brothers as if cutting leaves.

I started to run, not caring about anything anymore. Staying in that hell would only bring my death. I don't know how many blades passed by me or how many giants didn't see me during the assault, but I ran and somehow managed to escape from that hell. I didn't look back and kept running towards the nearby forest.

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