Over the courses of hundreds years the world can change, beings grow to creatures and creatures grow to men. Through thousands of years mankind has changed and adapted, rising in their skill and craft. People who started with clubs and rocks, traveling with the wildlife they hunted. Nomads. They had settles, created villages, cultures and beliefs. They had survived and thrives. Spread out throughout the world like a plague, occupying all the land available. They had gone from stones to steel, from land to seas and from peace to war.
But this had been over a course of thousand years. Along those timelines things could change, mountains could be levelled and seas could be tames. This level of change wasn't possible in five years. Change had been there, small and big. They were proud for it, a war had been stopped and now they thrived with their old enemies, living together as equals.
But some things don't change, some things never change. The winters would still be cold as they were each year, taking livestock and resources into its cold. The occasional fires still burnt high, destroying everything they came across. Sure, they we're easier to extinguish with their new companions but it was a challenging and dangerous task nevertheless.
The forge also didn't change. It still smelled of sweat, metal and burned wood. Through the years the building had been broken down and build up. In the past years it had been changed to accommodate for the new demand in saddles. Having a large piece of wood to make the differed saddles on. They still had a large rack of detachable tools for their old smith. Who still worked in the stall. It had a system against fires and a large forge in the centre, powered by dragon fire.
Yes, the forge had been the same in character for five years. The loud shocks of the metal striking glowing iron or steel remained, even if it was automated by a clever contraption. To any outsider of the village it would seem like the place to go, smiths were often jovial men who sung and even danced during their work, enjoying it that much.
But the forge had been different for five years. It had been five years since the smith was heard singing, since he had been seen with his happy, jovial smile in public. Something he reserved for the special ones in his live now. It had been five years since a piece of the village was lost, ripped out from their grasp. They hadn't realised how important it had been, they had taken him for granted.
People only went to the forge when they needed to. If their saddle of weapon was broken they would wait for friend or family to also state that they needed to go and pass it to them. It was a too sad sight. The once mighty and strong smith, now aging quicker than anyone could imagine.
There was only one thing in the structure that was the same, even when the building was broken down to be rebuild it had remained. It had been untouched by all hands safe for the few who kept it clean. It was seen as a sanctuary, a rich and almost holy location that should not be accessed by unworthy people. It had been the small room of their hero. A small storage cabinet with a desk and a few chairs.
The ground had been cleaned, on an average day it would be littered with papers and designs. You couldn't step in there without trampling some drawing or crushing charcoal underneath your feet. No one dared to enter, for one person once advised cleaning it out and using it for storage. He managed to get away with only a broken rib. Now it was clean, the papers carefully stacked on top of each other, some of the important designs and the delicate drawings hung from the wall. A sharpened pencil lay on the desk, awaiting his return.
No one had imagined that he would change their lives that much, and for the better. He had only been seen as a nuisance, some little pest that couldn't do anything that would improve their lives. But over the course of few months he had changed everything. He had changed their looks on dragons, he had saved the inhabitants when they wouldn't listen, blinded by ignorance and the feeling of betrayal. He had saved them all, and they couldn't repay him. The viking society took honour very seriously. And if someone deserved it, it was him. He had saved them all, but now he was gone.
The smith had refused to take a new apprentice, officially at least. The oldest girl from the Hoffersons would sit there often, tidying up after the old smith. He hadn't been the tidiest one with his tools, but if she wasn't there they would cover the entire floor. She was one of the people who had the privilege of seeing the old smith smile, and even laugh. They would often just share their company with each other, the smith working while she either tidies the room or sharpened some weapons.
The forge had grown to be a sad and quiet place, not many visitors and customers a day, only if it was necessary. The only sounds that remained was the inevitable sound of a hammer striking hot iron, the snoring of the big dragon that guarded the fire, a Hotburple named Grump, and the sizzling of hot metal in cold water.
They were here again today, the smith hammering away on a soon to be sword while the girl sat quietly on the counter, sharpening a richly decorated battle-axe, making sure that it would be inferior to any other weapon if tested in combat. They enjoyed each other's company in silence. She slowly slit the whetstone against the surface of the blade. The silence in the forge consisted of the sliding of the stone against the metal and the hammering of the smith, along with the occasional rumble from the Hotburple. This 'silence' was pierces by a soft and silend sigh, she hadn't even realised that she had sighed, but the old smith had. He stopped the hammering and looked at the girl, who now realised her mistake. She looked back at the smith and they gazed into each other's eyes, now fully seeing the emptiness inside them. "Twenty-one." The smith spoke, guessing the thoughts of the girl as he plunged a hot metal in the bucked with water. "Twenty-one." The girl slowly replied, a clear hint of sadness to her voice. "Are you planning anything special?" The smith asked as he dried the newly make blade, inspecting it for imperfections. "I'll probably head to his cove." She said softly, hoping to contain her emotions. "I'll see from there." The smith nodded as he put the sword with the rest.
"Ah' can't believe it's been five years." The smith said. "I remember his little remarks like he was here a few days ago." The girl chuckled at the memory of his sarcastic and often funny remarks. "I remember our first flight like it was yesterday." She said. Imagining the gentle feel of clouds on her hand like she felt for the first time that day. "And the fight like it was yesterday." The smith and her shared a sad look, both reviewing the events of that day, against all odds he had managed to defeat the large dragon, but when they dove away from the dive they made they were hit by the large tail, being both send into the cold Nordic water.
The smith broke the silence, he didn't like to see the young fierce girl so sad. "Astrid, remember" Gobber started. "Whether he's out there." He used his good hand to point to the clear skies above the restless seas. "Or up there." He now pointed his hand upwards, hinting to the gates of Valhalla. "We'll meet him again, and when we do, we'll cheer and sing and celebrate." "Yea." The girls said softly, a smile growing on her face as she imagined the scenario. "Wouldn't that be something?" "It definitely would." The smith said in the same hushed tone as her. "And I promise you that wherever he is, he's thinking about you too." "Thanks Gobber." The girl said, a heavy burden feeling lifted from her chest for a while. "You always know how to talk about him."
"Well, I've been stuck with the devil for quite some time haven't I?" He said jovially. He walked over to her and rested his bulky posture on the counter, before silently adding. "But not long enough."
The capital of the vast Roman Empire was the city of Rome, or Roma in the mouth of the inhabitants. A large, stunning city, filled with activity. The city was spread across coverall hills, and was protected by high walls. It didn't lay far from the coast, giving the inhabitants trade and fresh fish. Markets and squared could be found around each corner, every single one having beautifully decorated fountains, each more impressive then the last. Ruled by the Emperor, the city knew peace. Wars were being fought far from home, at the far ends of their Borders. And even at this late hour, the city was filled with merchants, townsfolk and soldiers.
The streets were filled with shops and craftsmen, who gladly sold their trade to anybody, crowds gathered around the many activities that still dotted the city. There were fire breathers, hailing from the south. These men could spit pure flames after drinking a mystical substance. The city was filled with life and joy, but the loose and relaxed attitude wasn't carried by all its citizens.
Underground, hidden beneath the stones of the street and behind secret passages throughout the city, was a secret sanctuary, build to withstand attack after attack, that is, if it were ever to be discovered. It granted access to the entire city and was a labyrinth of small corridors and rooms. The sanctuary was filled with strange men and women, dressed in long white robes, clad in light and easily movable armour. They all wore long hoods that covered their faces, making them indescribable from each other. Apart from the small difference between their robes, they all looked the same.
Inside the main chamber, a large circular room with a high roof, which had small holes in the ceiling though which sunlight would shine when daybreak arrived, many assassins chatted and talked. Some about missions they had completed, other about their wives and daughters who were at home, or about their loved ones within the brotherhood.
The loud chattering was silenced when a door opened at the far side of the room, a bearded man stepped out. He wore grey robes and heavier armour. Which still seemed highly movable. The man carried a piece of paper in his hand and slowly walked towards the centre of the room. The paper carried orders for an assassination. Which was to be performed on a highly strategic military advisor.
It was already known for who the mission was meant, the paper for them would have a darker shade, which indicated that it was special and rare paper that was in limited supply. The two were younger than most of the assassins, but had been in the creed longer. They had a bond that was unlike any other assassin, brothers from differed mothers. They were the only survivors of a raid of a different sanctuary. Their previous master has scuttled the construction, trapping himself inside with the Templar troops. After the two joined this sanctuary they quickly rose to the ranks of Masters. They were both offered to start their own creeds. They had explained that they were not made to lead, but instead wished to continue their loyalty to him.
The master had been surprised by the decline but had gladly kept them in his creed. They were some of the most experienced warriors that he knew, only being able to defeat each other. Most of their missions would be at night, where their companions, which the romans still didn't dare to approach, were at their place.
The men in question stepped forward. One of them covered in comparable grey robes as the master and the other one clad in unusual attire. The first one looked strong and powerful, able to defeat any opponent. He had messy, brown hair. He wasn't thick but he also wasn't skinny, just above the level of lean. He carried a large halberd on his back and he had a steel war axe secured to his hip, on the other side dangled a heavy crossbow. He carried a set of leather hidden blades on each arm. The dark, silver shine of the steel reflecting the embers of the torches on the wall. His buckle, which would normally hold the assassins logo, carried a different emblem. It was the assassin's logo indeed, but a winged, two-legged beast was clawed around it.
The second man was different, he was a little bit taller and was lean, wearing green clothes that were covered by thin leather guards on the side of his leg. The guards connected together and rose up his chest, diving underneath a thicker, black piece of armour. A demonic like helmet was hanging from his side, along with the hilt of his sword. He also had a crossbow, his one smaller and lighter. He had a dark hood that matched his armour on his head. His shoulder and arms were also protected by light, leather armour. Providing good movability and good defence. On his chest was also a buckle, his having a four-legged, winged demon climbing the logo. His hidden blades, black as night, were made from a special alloy that combines dragon scales with steel, making it stronger, lighter and darker. His right blade consisted of two different parts, a hook in the shape of a dragons head and the blade. He called it the hookblade, not the most original name but what would you expect from a guy who named a dragon Toothless after not seeing his teeth one time. The blades were secured in his leather gauntlets, hidden pretty well, but still easy to access. The blade had small stains on it, blood that had bitten into the metal after longer tasks which didn't give him time to clean them.
He stepped towards the Master, his armour making no sound as he walked, not even the parts of metal on metal. What made him special was that he only had one leg, having lost his other leg in a matter unknown to most of the creed. They both rarely spoke about their pasts, leaving it only known to each other and a few special individuals. They both hailed from a land far up north, where dragons roamed the skies. The lower part of his leg was replaced by a metal and wood contraption, which functioned as a replacement leg. He had proven himself to be very skilled with it. Only his partner being able to defeat him.
The taller one took the note from the Master and broke the seal, opening it to read the details of the task. He let his green eyes flow across the paper, reading the Latin words like it was his own tongue. Once every letter and word had been read he folded it and put it somewhere in his armour, accepting the task. The two turned around and passed through the sea of white. All the other assassins moving out of the way, some of fear, some of respect. They were considered Master Assassins, the highest possible rank, and at such a young age. Some had scoffed it off, saying that it was because of the large demons they rode, but they didn't dare to question or challenge their skills, even without the beasts.
They moved through the small corridors at an easy pace, quickly and silently. They came out into a bigger hallway, which lead to the stables. The hallways were made to be able to fit two or three horses together, but also managed to fit a dragon. They had multiple stables pens, all able to accommodate a substantial amount of horses. Or you could use one of them to fit two dragons. "Get ready boys." Ragnar, the shorter and older one called out. "We got a task to do." The Nightfury and the Skrill that were happily resting both whined in discomfort, they might both be dragons who were energetic and active, but when they felt like it they would rather be sleepy. The two slowly got up from their places on the ground when their riders saddled them. "It's night outside." Hiccup said to his dragon, which caused it to stand up instantly, almost sending his rider through the stones that covered the ceiling.
The two bend down onto their dragon, lying as flat as possible. Hiccup grabbed for his calf, where the prosthetic began. He twisted a small wooden ring on the base of the contraption, which made the metal foot slid into the wooden frame and made room for a small metal stick that he clicked into the dragon's saddles stirrup. The Nightfury warbled happily as he felt the prosthetic come to life, a bright, red tailfin.
Ragnar followed closely behind. His Skrill, Bolt, crawled across the floor, using his wings as paws like all Skrills do. They reached the far end of the hallway and exited the sanctuary through a secret passage, which lead them to a small garden, blooming with purple Nightshade. The two spilled no time and jumped into to the skies, their dragons extending their wings to bring them to their location. Thanks to the winged beasts the two were able to track enemies which were far away. But since romans weren't used to dragons they only flew during the night.
They flew over Roma, looking down at the brightly illuminated city. Berk would be dark at this hour, all the streets dark except for maybe a few torches that would flicker on the staircase to the mead hall, but nothing more. They enjoyed the wind that swept through their faces, well face, since Hiccup was wearing his mask. Roma lay behind them now, looking bigger than ever. They flew quietly, sometimes rolling, diving and climbing just to keep the flight interesting. But they stopped when they spotted the light of a Roman harbour ahead.
Hiccup signalled Ragnar to follow him, which he did. He flipped the switch on the dragon's saddle that would lock the tailfin in place, allowing him some level of free flight. He slipped his prosthetic out of the metal stirrup and switched it back to his walking foot. Toothless and Bolt glided low above the houses, high enough to not be illuminated by the torches. Their riders stood on their backs. A jump from this height would cause injury to any untrained person, but luckily these two were experts. To play it safe they waited until they flew towards the stables, where large stacks of hay could be seen.
The dragons adjusted their course and headed for the haystacks. When they glided across them each felt the familiar weight on their backs disappear and knew that their riders had jumped off. The soft brushing of hay confirmed that they had landed successfully.
Hiccup stared in the haystack for a bit, peeking out only slightly to search for any patrols or guards. A hay stack was a favourite to assassins, they were easy to hide in, allowed sound to move through freely and offered easy breathing. It also helped that they were literally everywhere. He slowly peeked out of his hiding place, only to quickly pull his head back as two roman soldiers came his way. Chatting busily. Hiccup whistled, which caught the two guards their attention. The slowly moved to the haystack in which Hiccup resigned. Before they could inspect the haystack Ragnar, now wearing his hood, jumped out of his one, stabbing the two guards and hiding them in the haystacks.
"Well done." Hiccup complimented him on his quick action as he removed small bits of hay from his armour. "Shall we take the roofs?" "Sounds like a plan." Ragnar responded as he walked over to a building. He used cracks and openings together with windowpanes and frames to quickly scale the building. Something that took great strength. Hiccup started a bit to his left, using the extended reach of his hookblade to scale the building much quicker.
They reached the top in a matter of seconds, having scaled two stories in such short time. It was an astonishing feature to be able to do, and certainly something every assassin could be proud at doing. They kept crouched, a handful of guards had been on the rooftops. It was a common countermeasure against the assassin threat. Ragnar and Hiccup quickly moved across the roofs. Neutralising the guards that they met without them sounding any alarms. They reached the docks, where many large ships lay gently in the water. Ragnar scanned the area, when you become an assassin you develop a kind of extra sense, which will help you locate targets and enemies. He let his eyes glare over the area and quickly found their target, he standing on a gangplank, boarding a ship. "Hiccup look." Ragnar called for his friend. "Is that what I think it is?" He pointed at the ship their target had now climbed upon. It was long and sturdy, armoured with shields. "Is that a longboat?" Hiccup asked confused. "A Viking longboat?" "I think so." Ragnar answered. "And if a Templar goes on it, it can't be good." Hiccup looked around, spotting a crane in the dark night, it hung perfectly over the ship. "I take the crane and go in, you be my backup, alright?" "Got it mate." Ragnar responded. "Find out what Vikings are doing here."
Hiccup left his brother's side and headed to the crane, walking up the thin wooden beam without much effort, before jumping off and landing on the mast of the ship. Wooden ships didn't have much light, because that would require fire and that was just a bad idea overall. He used one of the ropes that held the mast up straight to slide down onto the deck, letting his blades sink into the neck of an unsuspecting guard, before tumbling him over the edge.
He stood at the door of the cabin, where he could faintly hear the men talking. "I can assure you he will be happy." A man spoke. "We now know the location of the object." "Bludfist will be pleased to hear that." Another man spoke, his accent clearly Nordic. "He isn't a patient man." "The deal still stands? He guards the hammer in the name of the order." "And gains control over the archipelago, yes it stands." "Good."
Hiccup moved away from the door as he heard footsteps approach him, he quickly hooked his hookblade into a knot in the mast and hid behind the sails. Only his target came out, carrying a scroll. Hiccup quickly jumped from his hiding spot, landing on top of the man and sinking his blade in his back.
He collapsed, facing upwards, looking at his attacker. He saw the assassin standing over him, blood dripping from his blade. "What were you discussing?" Hiccup asked. "What did you find?" "I'll tell you nothing." The man spat. "Assassin." "You won't," Hiccup began, reaching for the scroll in the man's hand. "But this will do it for you." He unrolled the scroll and read it, surprised to find Nordic runes instead of Latin. The man prayed that the assassin couldn't understand Norse. He was a Roman after all, wasn't he? While the man read the parchment he scanned his face, finding it having many, and he did mean many Nordic features. He was taller than most of the Roman. But than could just me because he was looking up to him.
Hiccup read the entire parchment, he didn't understand. On the parchment stood the object of legends. Something that didn't exist in the physical world. "What is this about?" He asked, only find that he had taken too long to read the parchment. The man had stopped moving, had breathed his last breath, and now lay motionless and lifeless at his feet. He sighed, bending over him and moving his hand to his face. "Requiescat in pace." He said as he closed the man's eyes. He stood up and quickly added. "May the Valkyries welcome you."
He looked around. The harbour was pretty calm and he casually walked off the gangplank like nothing happened. Of course it had to be this moment that a guards spotted him. "Assassin!" He called out, quickly drawing more guards to his location. Hiccup calmly walked off the gangplank, drawing all the attention to himself. Six guards surrounded him, all pointing halberds at him. "Surrender!" One of the guards commanded, Hiccup spared him a quick glance before Ragnar jumped off the roof, killing two guards on his way down. One with each of his hidden blades. In this short moment of distraction Hiccup grabbed the hilt on his belt, sprayed some of the Zipplebag gas that he had collected around him and lit it. He had learned that if you mix it with various other ingredients it could prove for a great distraction. Because it was a small amount and it wasn't in a closed space it just burned instead of exploding, but it did leave a large cloud of thick smoke.
They acted quickly, each disposing of two more guards before retreating into the safeties of the rooftops. Some guards were still running towards them when they made the smoke, they waited for it to clear. When it did, they found nothing but dead guards and emptiness, the assassins long gone.
Hiccup and Ragnar watched from the rooftops. "What took you so long?" Ragnar asked. "Information that we need to take to the master." Hiccup answered as he slit his helmet on his head. "Now." Ragnar grabbed a whistle from his belt, shaped like a Skrill. He blew on it gently, producing a soft high noise that would be very noticeable for the dragons. It didn't take long for the two dark creatures to appear on the horizon. Blitz dived down, Ragnar grabbing his saddle and hoisting himself on top of him. Toothless came second, Hiccup hooked his hookblade in a special ring on the bottom of the saddle and used the momentum to swing himself onto his back. Locking his fake foot into the stirrup and gaining control of the tailfin again.
They flew in silence. They never talked much after a mission, that was, until they were safe in the confinements of the sanctuary. There they could discuss everything and talk about stuff all they wanted, without fear of being shot down or hunted.
They arrived at the sanctuaries garden quickly. The moon hadn't even passed its peak. They opened the passage and their dragons walked in. Quickly finding their stables. The two slid out of the saddles Stretched after the flight, and walked towards the main hall. It was a lot calmer now, most assassins either sleeping or out on missions or patrols around the city and outskirts.
Hiccup and Ragnar both walked towards the door of the Master, knocking gently on it. He opened quickly, expecting the two to arrive. They walked into the room, it was a sizable room, a bit bigger than theirs. Bookcases stood against the walls. They had many old books and scrolls. Most of them far before their time.
They closed the door behind them and stepped towards the small table that stood to the left of it. They stripped themselves of all their weaponry, Hiccup laid his sword and crossbow on the table, Ragnar places his axe on it too, along with his heavier crossbow, before leaning his halberd against it. They both kept their blades on.
"I suspect that the task is completed?" The master asked, his voice deep and heavy. Hiccup and Ragnar nodded as they took a seat on the master's dining table. A cup of tea already awaiting both of them. "I expected nothing else." The master said. "Did you learn anything interesting?" He asked as he sat down on the other side of the table. Gently blowing over his tea to cool it down. "Yes, Master." Ragnar said as Hiccup grabbed the scroll from somewhere in his armour. "This was found on the target." The master took the scroll in his hands and examined it, before unrolling it and reading it. He looked up at Hiccup and Ragnar. "Please excuse me, my Norse is a bit foggy." He said as he handed the scroll back to Hiccup, who read it aloud in a hushed enough tone to not let his voice leave the room.
"Dear Companion,
I can hereby inform you that we have found substantial evidence that the object is indeed in the archipelago, we only need the proof that it is located where we think it is.
The hammer, 'Mjölnir' as our people call it, indeed holds the power we are searching for. The experts that you send over have confirmed it as one of the artefacts. Sadly enough they haven't survived their encounter with the local wildlife. The legendary hammer will be within our grasp in a matter of months, which is when the full extent of our deal will come into play.
The archipelago will be off limits for the Roman armies and I shall gain free reign over it and its people as I wish. In return, we shall keep the artefact safe.
Greetings, D.B."
"Mjölnir." Ragnar whispered. "That's not possible." "Apparently it is." Hiccup said. "If this is what I think it is we have a problem." "Mjölnir, the ancient hammer forged by your gods was it?" The master spoke, clearly in thought. Hiccup and Ragnar nodded. "I don't meddle with the affairs of your gods, as should any mortal. If this is what you think it is it would hold great power. We cannot let Templar hands fall upon this artefact."
"What do you suggest Master?" Hiccup asked. "We form a force and stop their operation?" "By the looks of it we'll have to take a large number." Ragnar added. "They probably know we have captured the message by the time we arrive there."
"Indeed they will, we would lose our biggest element, surprise." The master said as he stood up and walked towards one of the bookcases. "We are after all the masters of perception." He pulled a book outwards, which sparked a large mechanism to live. The most right bookcase slowly slid into the wall, revealing a secret room. Hiccup and Ragnar, both out of curiosity, stood up and slowly followed their master, leaving their tea unattended.
The room had even more bookcases, almost like a small library. But what stood out the most was the large table in the centre of the room. It was a large map of the known world, mostly charted thanks to Hiccup and Ragnar going out on their dragons. He grabbed a small box from the side of the table and opened it. Grabbing a small pin with a wooden tip. "We need to get there vast. We can't afford time on training and terrain knowledge." He said as he pinned the metal pin into the map, right underneath a few words. "This is your chance to start your own creed."
"Nothing is true, everything is permitted." The master spoke as he turned back to the two. "You both proved to follow these lines way before you knew them, challenging the things you have been thought form birth and befriending the creatures you've sworn to fight. Accepting the consequences of your actions, either by banishment or suffering."
"I want you to leave before sunrise, we can't draw any suspicion." He explained. "From now on you are your own masters, your own allies, your own enemies." Hiccup and Ragnar nodded, both feeling happy and nervous for their return. "Grab what you need and leave." The master said. "But not before we greet each other for the last time." He extended his hand for the two to accept. He shook them both their hand and said. "As equals."
They left the small room and drank the last of their tea in silence. Hiccup rewrote the note, so that the master would be able to read it if he wanted to. They bode their farewells and good lucks to each other before Hiccup and Ragnar left. The pin was still strongly secured in the map, underneath the thick black letters that had been written just above the mostly unknown area. It was vast and dangerous, with many unknown secrets and dangers. The words read. "Barbaric Archipelago"
They walked to their room, a small, round, caved-out part nearby the stables, and immediately started packing their bags. Toothless was able to carry four, two on each side. Bolt could carry three, two on one side and the other bag hanging from the other, together with Ragnar's halberd.
They had travelled to the archipelago often, at least every Snoggletog, the two would spend the holiday together with their dragons, who didn't find the need to mate. This would also give them the opportunity to remake maps and to collect valuable resources, like Zipplebag gas, Nightmare saliva and Gronkle Iron. They stayed clear of towns and villages, their presence staying unnoticed each year. Except for the few times they intervened with bandits to help traders, nomads, merchants or refugees.
This time would be different, they weren't going on vacation, they were going to settle, more or less. Decisions about whether they'd sleep in tents or find refuge in a village would have to be held but they knew they needed a lot of things to pack. They both packed their own weapons, Hiccup had an extra set of hidden blades, carefully wrapped in cloth, also made from the black, strong metal alloy. They both carried bolts for their crossbows, Ragnar's significantly bigger and heavier than Hiccup's, since his crossbow was heavier. They both packed their own materials for sharpening their weapons, Ragnar also taking a spare axe-head while Hiccup packed tools for small repairs and maintenance.
Now that they both had their first bag filled they moved to the next, which for both was water. An archipelago had plenty of water, but most of it was salt. Islands with large natural supplies of fresh water were usually inhabited, so they would have to keep a relative supply to be self-sufficient. The next bag was gear, next to their usual weaponry they also needed camping gear. They often slept in the wings and embrace of their dragons, but since winter was coming quickly, they would need something more than just that. Hiccup took a tent and a bedroll, along with more supplies to make a long term shelter. Ragnar also took a bedroll and some more supplies.
Then came the last bag, which was filled with food. It carried dried meat, bread and other various kinds of food that would stay fresh, or at least edible, for a long time. Most of their meals would come from the sea, their dragons proved to be excellent fishers. They could also occasionally hunt for their food, but the amount of wildlife on an island could quickly dwindle.
They went back to the stables, carrying the weighty bags. They greeted their companions, who were calmly eating some fish that had been given to them by the other assassins in the sanctuary. Most people didn't dare to come too close to the large reptiles, but some would occasionally give them a snack or some leftovers. "Hey guys." Ragnar greeted them. "Ready for some long distance flying?" Both dragons looked up confused, they usually had a day rest before the next task or mission, not that it was necessary. "We're going back." Hiccup said, which earned a confused warble from the beasts. "Back to the archipelago."
The dragons visually lit up, standing up, ready to go as their riders walked towards them with the heavy bags. The dragons were actually hard to keep still now that they knew where they were going, they had been waiting to feel the cold winds of the northern lands again. The weather south was too hot for the dragons, they longed for the harsher climate.
The bags were strapped to the saddles, safely secured by thick leather strips and metal buckles. The weight carefully divided across the bodies of the dragon, granting the as much comfort as possible. Both dragons both warbled happily as confirmation that the bags were comfortably secured. They quickly mounted their dragons, wasting no time on goodbyes to the other assassins. The secret passage was opened for them a third time this night, and probably for the last.
They jumped into the clouded skies, quickly rising upwards to cover their path in the large, dark skies. Hidden behind the walls of clouds they flew. The wind guiding their path towards the archipelago, towards home.
AN:
Well, well, well, what do we have here? The first chapter of a new story I see. Interesting. Also, I used one of those long lines instead of : : : : :, how professional!
A little bird told me that the poll results voted towards this story the most, I'll edit the poll for the next one and add a few more. The previous votes have been noted for the other stories too and will be taken into consideration.
I hope everyone will be enjoying the story. I hope to update weekly but I'm not sure if I'll manage, since I want to make the chapters for this story longer than the previous. I.E. between the 5000 and 7000 words each. I hope I'll manage but that might cause the story to only be updated every two weeks. The furthest I will go is every month, but I hope it won't come to that.
Anyway, enjoy the first chapter and I'll see you in the next one!
Take Care!
R4y