I know, I know. I should be working on my other stories but I'm just not feeling the enthusiasm to write them. Not to mention the writer's block. vsPredator I won't continue but Ice and Snow is not abandoned. The next stories to be updated are probably Winchester and Stepmother. For those of you who are reading those stories sorry for the wait.

Waiver: You don't have to make excuses, no one blames you.

Disclaimer: Yes we do.

Waiver: Disclaimer you're not helping.

Disclaimer: Who said I was trying to?

On a side note, I've neglected to write Gobber's accent as I have no idea how to. Disclaimer!

Disclaimer: We don't own HTTYD, DreamWork's animation does.

Dissent in the Ranks: Chapter One

Twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death, there is an Island located solidly on the Meridian of Misery, deep within the Barbaric Archipelago. Its name is Berk. For three hundred years, the Hairy Hooligans have fought against the greatest enemy Vikings have ever known. But that age in history is over, as one bloodshed takes the place of another. All across the Island, the sound of unsheathed swords and monstrous roars echoed into the night sky. The bright glow of great fires flickered as sparks rose to the moon, barely visible past the thick smoke. Vikings of all ages and size scrambled for either weapons or shelter, hoping to escape or drive off the invaders. As they fought creatures of nightmares, beings they thought impossible to exist in this world, a single cry rose up from the panic.

"DRAGON RIDERS!"

Stoick the Vast, chief of Berk, ran across the battlefield that is his village, Vikings all around him scrambling for cover. He glanced to the sky again. Dozens of forms raced across the stars, their scales reflecting the torches in a sinister light. A shout of rage caught Stoick's attention as a warrior in black leather armor wielding a basic sword charged the chief before being knocked aside by the Viking's massive hammer. The warrior's dragon followed soon after to defend its rider only to be knocked aside in the same manner. Stoick huffed before continuing to run. This was the third attack this month and no one on Berk had managed to learn anything about the rider's just that they come, blow up a few houses, steal food and run off again. These constant raids were starting to wear on Stoick's patience. He needed answers and he needed them soon. He came to a stop when he reached one of their catapults.

"What have we got?" he asked the burly Viking next to him.

"Zipplebacks, Natters, Speed Stingers, and a Windstriker!" the man said with visible panic. Stoick had always thought the day he saw a Viking panic was the day of Ragnarök, but the world would not end today if he had anything to say about it.

"Stay strong, we've driven them off before we'll do it again," he stated in his authoritative voice. The Viking nodded and waited for his chief's orders.

"Has the great hall been secured?"

"Yes sir, all those not fighting are inside."

"Good, keep the rider's attention on the beach. Use the catapults sparingly, and for Thor's sake someone put those fires out!"

As Vikings scrambled to douse the many homes set ablaze, Stoick combed over the battlefield. His eyes narrowed as he finally spotted what he was looking for. The Windstriker and its rider were plowing through his warriors with ease, burning and slashing at any in their way. The chief lifted his hammer and charged. A blow to the head and the dragon was launched into the side of a building, his rider standing between him and the chief, his sword and shield raised in the beast's defense. The warrior wore the same black leather as the other riders, with his being more heavily armored and his muscles being more profound. He was not as big as Berk Viking but he was in no way small as he stood just as tall as Stoick. A black cape billowed behind him, and a hornless helmet covered the top part of his face, the only thing visible were his strong jaw, short beard, and long, scraggly blond hair sticking out from behind his helmet. His eyes were hidden in shadow but Stoick didn't need the light to see the malice they held. The rider charged shield first only to be stopped by Stoick's strong kick. The chief brought his hammer down on the shield but the rider held firm, delivering his own kick into the man's armored stomach. Stoick swung again, not deterred by the blow. Wood splintered off the shield but it held strong against his mighty weapon. The rider swung again with his sword but only managed to cut a few hairs from the Vikings beard. Another swing with the sword, then another, both missing their target. By the third swing, Stoick let his hammer fall, shattering them man's sword before a punch sent him on his back. The rider scrambled to his feet and glared at the chief.

"You can't defeat us," he said in a deep voice. "And you can't hold out forever. Berk WILL fall." Before Stoick could swing again, the forgotten Windstriker grabbed his rider and flew off, the sound of a horn being blown signaling their enemy's retreat. Vikings cheered as the rider's fled the Island. Stoick let out a breath of exhaustion but didn't relax till day break. Even then he kept his hammer close, and his senses sharp. The riders would be back, he had to be ready.

-0-

Stoick rubbed at his temples, trying in vain to ease the headache he has. He stood in the great hall as his tribesman argued amongst each other. This was becoming an all too familiar scene to the old chief. After every raid they would come together to try and find a solution to their dragon rider problem. Unfortunately they were Vikings. Level headed discussions about a problem were not their strong suit. As Stoick's head throbbed again her felt a hand pat his back. He looked behind him to his left to see his oldest friend Gobber giving him a look of sympathy. He nodded his appreciation before turning back to the arguing Vikings.

"We can't wait for them to wear us down, we have to go out there and root them out!"

"And how do suppose we do that? We don't know a thing about these bastards, for all we know their camp could half across the Archipelago!"

"Not to mention that any ship that tries to leave gets blasted!"

"So you would stay and let them destroy us?! Too afraid to take the battle to them you cowards?!"

"ENOUGH!"

Stoick turned to his right to see it was Mogadon who spoke. The chief of the Meatheads looked to be annoyed past his limits. Stoick couldn't blame him. After the second raid, the Meatheads were forced off their Island and into Berk. Apparently they weren't the only tribes under attack, it seemed like the whole of the Archipelago was under siege from the riders. Every Viking there quieted down as they waited for what the banished chief had to say.

"As much as it pains me to say this," Mogadon began slowly. "But we cannot fight these monsters on our own. All of you have to realize how bad things are, it's worse than when we just had to deal with the dragons." No one disputed what he said. Things were bad during the dragon raids, but add warriors who could strategize and plan and defending the village became an almost impossible task.

"What do you suggest?" Stoick asked him. He saw the look in his fellow chief's eyes and he knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

"We need help from the other tribes."

The hall fell silent. Viking chiefs were known for their pride and stubbornness. They only accepted help from those they trusted with their lives and even then it was rare. In all of Viking history the tribes had love/hate relations with each other and only when faced with mutual destruction did they ever ask for the help of others. Seeing the seriousness on Mogadon's face told them how dire their situation was. Stoick furrowed his brows. His people were more important to him than his pride but that didn't mean he liked what he was about to do.

"Spitelout," he said while turning to his brother-in-law. "Send messages to the other tribes. The Louts, the Burglars, everyone. We all need to join together if we're going to stop the riders."

"Ah Stoick?" The chief turned to his old friend.

"What is it Gobber?" As he looked at his friend he almost seemed . . . nervous?

"Ah . . . I think I know someone who can help." Both chief's interests were peaked.

"Who?"Mogadon asked almost eagerly.

"Ah, I don't know his name, but I've heard rumors about him." Stoick's brow furrowed again. He could always tell when his friend wasn't telling the truth.

"What have you heard?" he asked him.

"It's said he's an expert on dragons. That he has even learned to control them," the one handed man said with an air of dramatics. Any other day they would have laughed at him but looking back on the last month made them keep their mouths shut.

"You say this mystery man can control dragons. What makes you think he's not one of the riders?" Mogadon asked with suspicion.

"Because they say he never leaves his island. He lives in a mountain of ice and the only thing that goes in and out are his dragons." Stoick's chuckle cut off his story telling.

"I think your giving to much credit to these rumors Gobber."

"Either way, we need all the help we can get. I can take a group and search for him. If he is just a rumor, than we come right back. If he is real and we can convince him to help us, then this might just solve our problems."

"How would you even get off the island? The riders destroy any ship that tries to leave."

"Trader Johan is scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Everyone knows Johan is neutral, even the Outcasts trade with him. They wouldn't attack him. Stoick," he said nearly pleadingly. "This is our best chance."

Stoick looked closely at his friend then at the other Vikings in the hall. Many seemed skeptical, but he could still see a spark of hope in their eyes. The chief knows the power hope can have behind it, which is why he answers the way he does.

"Alright, take a small group and find this 'dragon controller'. Get his help, beg if you have to. I don't care what you do; we need to stop these monsters. Do whatever it takes."

-0-

Across the village from the great hall, five Vikings in their mid-twenties sat in a circle at the top of a watchtower, all of them keeping a close eye on the horizon for any more attacks. The fire they started cast a warm feeling through their chilled bones. None of them said a thing. That is until two near identical Vikings began fighting.

"Will you two knock it off," Astrid reprimanded the twins. "We're supposed to be keeping vigilant." Ruffnut and Tuffnut grumbled lowly as they sat back in their spots next to each other. Astrid turned to another of the Vikings sitting among them. "Snotlout how's the eye?"

The well-muscled Viking reached his hand and gently touched the patch that covered his right eye. "It still hurts, but I'll live." The blonde nodded before glancing to the last member of their party. "You've been quiet Fish, anything on your mind?"

The largest Viking among them, Fishlegs didn't look up, his eyes still gazing at the fire. "I'm just thinking."

"About?" Astrid prodded. She may not have been a very social person, but the group in front of her are her friends. The sense of melancholy that fell over them since the raids started did not go unnoticed by her. Fishlegs shook his head.

"The usual: how did they get dragons, how many types do they have, how long we can . . ." He didn't bother to finish. He didn't need to.

"All this destruction and for once I can't enjoy it," Tuff added, Ruff nodding in agreement.

"I wish things would go back to normal," the female twin said with longing. Asrid smirked.

"And what exactly is normal? We're Vikings remember?"

"Normal is when we would just defend against dragon raids," she continued. "You would punch Snotlout for his daily flirting; Fish would have his head in a book." Everyone looked down as they remembered better times. "Tuff and I would pull a few pranks and we would all laugh whenever Hiccup-"

Things were silent in the tower. It had been ten years since Hiccup disappeared but it still baffled all of them. He was doing so well in training, even winning the right of killing a dragon, but the very next day he just . . . vanishes. Not a trace of him anywhere. The village was never the same after that. Some were glad that that nuisance was gone, others saddened that the best trainee was gone. Others however took it much worse. Gobber was so crestfallen the forge had been closed for a month. It had taken nearly a year for him to go back to being his old self but the loss was still there. The other teens didn't know what to think. The only one who was truly saddened was Fishlegs as he is the only one who could actually call himself anything close as a friend to the fishbone. The others just felt like something was missing. They never realized how much their lives were impacted by the screw up. But no one was more hurt than Stoick. For over a year it just seemed like the chief was working on autopilot. He wouldn't talk to anyone. No one could blame him. After losing his wife Valka in a dragon attack Hiccup was the only family he had left. And then he was gone.

A loud 'thud' caught the group's attention and they turned to see the old forge master wearing the biggest grin they had seen on him in years. The thud was caused by a large bag he set down next to the fire. If they weren't mistaken it seemed to be filled with quite a few of Gobber's killing things.

"Going somewhere Gobber?" Fishlegs asked.

"Nope," he said like an excited kid. "We are. We're going on a mission."

"What mission?" Astrid asked, always the first to learn about a new task.

"We all know that things aren't going well with these riders about so it's our job to go find help."

"We're going for help? What are we cowards?" Snotlout said, his pride showing clearly.

"No we aren't," Gobber frowned at him. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. We are looking for a man some call the 'Dragon Master'. They say he has the power to control dragons."

"Wouldn't he be with the riders then?" Tuffnut asked . . . surprisingly.

"According to what I've been told, he hides himself in a mountain of ice, never bothering with the workings of the world."

"How does he control the dragons?" Fishlegs asked, some of his old curiosity shinning for the first time in months.

"I don't know," Gobber said. "But it's our best chance. We leave on Trader Johan's ship when he arrives today, so get packed."

The group looked at each other, their expressions filled with a mix of excitement, trepidation, and skepticism.

"You wouldn't go through all this on just rumors," Astrid finally said. "What do you really know about this 'Dragon Master'?" Gobber's smile widened ear to ear.

"Let's just say he's an old friend. And trust me when I say he has plenty of reason to help us."

Waiver: Tell us what you think of our new story. Did we make mistakes, did we do anything wrong, constructive criticism is appreciated. Please note that we value reviews more than favorites and follows. Review please!