Berk. A fairly large island located on the east of the meridian of misery, it acts as a small centre piece in the barbaric archipelago. It is also the island that hosts my village, an iron fortress that no outcast, pirate or berserker can penetrate. The only thing that can penetrate it are the monsters that stalk the wilds, and raid the civilizations of our people. They are -

"Dragons," the watchman screamed from outside my house. Looking up from my sketchbook, I jumped off my wooden stool and opened my bedroom window. I peered to my left and watched the chaos. Axes, swords and bolas glinted in the light of the dragon's flames. I was in awe at our powerful warriors, but that awe turned to fear very quickly when a ball of magma came hurtling towards me. I closed the shutter and ducked down just as the fireball exploded, leaving a chunk my roof in nothing but splinters and ash. I rushed to my desk, grabbed my sketchbook and made a dash for the battlefield. I opened the front door and looked out to see one of the large monsters being grounded as our neighbour, Phlegma the Fierce locked its snout in her massive hairy arms. I ran out of the house and tried to look for a way that I could help in the battle against the demonic beasts.

Dragons, in case you didn't know, are giant reptilian monsters that dominate the open air with savage bloodlust, razor sharp claws and teeth, and the unique ability to breathe fire. Most people would flee at the sight of dragons ripping through the air, unleashing a bombardment of fire. But we do not, for we are vikings. We take the beasts head on with the ability of co-ordination and the might of our weapons, and we never relent.

My name is Hiccup, not the best name but certainly not the worst. Adults give their children hideous or intimidating names to protect us from gnomes and trolls and other dark creatures, though most of us scare them off easily with a glare. A prime example of intimidating is Stoick the Vast, the chief of Berk. He is respected by vikings even beyond our island; he popped a dragon's head off its neck when he was just a baby, isn't that the coolest thing ever. He is also my father but you wouldn't be able to tell that my father was the powerful, bulky and fearless leader everyone knows he is. Why? Because I'm everything my dad isn't. I'm weak, scrawny and I don't think recklessly running through a battlefield, which is what I'm currently doing, counts as fearless.

I was zigzagging along the village, when an axe came hurtling from the sky, cutting a few strands off of my furs, and then embedding itself into the dirt by my feet. Naturally I wrapped my hands around the handle and hoisted the weapon over my shoulder. Well, I tried to, but the axe was wedged deep into the dirt. I pulled on the weapon with all my might and in hopes that I would somehow develop asgardian strength and charge into to battle, striking fears into the hearts of dragons.

"Hiccup," someone yelled, but I ignored them. Suddenly something lifted me by the neck of my shirt and lifted me in the air. I could feel a sharp but precise pain in my back as my feet left the ground, in my panic I started lashing out at the dragon. As my palm slapped against its skin I felt it's, hair? Opening my eyes I was met with face of a man with an oversized lower jaw that displayed his lower teeth, including a metal fake one. His moustache was braided so that his it looked like a yellow sausage snaking over his top lip and drooped down his face.

Gobber the Belch a large man who acted as my guardian whenever my dad is out cheifing or dragon fighting, I don't really need a guardian, I just let Gobber hang around because I don't want him to feel unused. He hoisted the earthbound axe onto his shoulder and began running towards the forge, with me still hanging by his hook hand. He lost his real hand to dragon that gobbled it up; many people in Berk have lost a limb, or in Gobber's case two.

Once in the safety of the forge Gobber lowered me back onto the ground and went to sharpening the axe from outside. The forge released gagging smoke and intense heat from the fire pit use to meld metal, I'd come here so often that these things didn't particularly bother me. I glared at Gobber as he continued to grind the axe.

"I loosened that out you know," I stated trying to defend some of my dignity. Gobber looked from his work and gave me a humorous smile.

"Sure you did, Hiccup" he replied with incredibly dry sarcasm. Silence fell between as stood there, gaping at one another as we each replayed what he had said. I'm not sure how long we were stuck like that because it wasn't until the axe chipped did we break out of our trance. On refocused Gobber grumbled "I need to get away from you. You're starting to rub off on me,"

"You should be honoured to have the traits of the chief's line," I retorted, grinning widely the entire time.

"I get enough chief traits from your father, I don't need a toothpick's as well,"

"Who are you calling toothpick, Meathead?"

"Who are you calling meathead, Toothpick?"

"Eel Nose,"

"Fishbone,"

"One Arm," Gobber opened his mouth to retort, stopped, started again, but finally settled for grumbling. I won. He scuttled towards the counter and placed the axe there, immediately it was snatched by a passing viking. I knew I wouldn't be able to sneak out to fight again with Gobber on watch, so I settled for measuring up all the dragons that flew through the village.

The Deadly Nadder, a bird-like dragon that shot magnesium flames from its mouth and poisonous spines from its tail. The Hideous Zippleback, a twin headed dragon that made it twice as dangerous. The Lash Whipper, a frilled dragon with a long tail that could slice a viking in half. The Gronckle, a near invulnerable dragon that shoots faming balls of magma. And finally, the Monstrous Nightmare, a dragon that can set itself aflame making it the second greatest kill on the island.

But the greatest kill of all has to be the Night Fury, a dragon that cannot be seen and can never miss a shot. Not many believe in the dragon because there has been no recorded sighting in over 30 years. But I know it's out there just waiting to be killed by my hand. A turned back to Gobber who was busy remoulding a mace, suddenly an idea came to mind and I opened my mouth to voice it but Gobber beat me to the punch.

"No, your father doesn't need me right now," he called without even facing me. I crossed my arms and decided to look through my sketchbook. A multitude of images momentarily stole my gaze as I flipped through the pages. Dragons, vikings, weapons and a whole manor of landscape drawings blanketed the pages with charcoal marks. I was proud of each and every one of my drawings, but only one them managed to stop me in my tracks.

It was a picture of a beautiful girl around my age with beautiful big eyes which black charcoal could not impersonate if it tried. A single braid of hair draped down her neck, as oppose to the two puffy braids she once wore 2 years ago. She stood on a cliff, leaning against her mother's axe with a determined look on her face as she watched the waves crashing before her. She was beautiful, a goddess in every sense of the word and her name even stated it – Astrid.

Astrid and I were close friends, we would always play games together, she would defend me when I was attacked, and I would also make her feel better when she was sad. But after her uncle Finn died, she has done nothing but make sure that she can one day restore her family name. Being without Astrid has affected me more than you would think. Without her there to defend me the other kids have a clear chance at bullying me, without her there to push me forward I don't have the confidence to push on, without her divine presence all my luck is shot.

But I don't blame her; if she associates herself with me she loses her chance to clear the Hofferson family name. So I can understand why she keeps her distance and I hold nothing against her. If it's anyone's fault it's everyone else's. They never give me a chance to prove myself, I could be one of them if they just gave me sword and taught me how to use it I would have ended this war by now. But instead they let me become the runt of the litter, not allowing me to unleash my viking prowess. Anger began to rage through me as I began pointing fingers and giving reasons for the guilt, until my Astrid picture stole my eyes again. I could blame everyone but her, and Gobber. She had done so much for me and so long she was with me, whether in body or on vellum, nothing could go wrong.

"Looking at her again, are you?" The sudden close voice in my ear shocked me causing to tumble off of the desk, thus beginning a circuit of destruction. I knocked over the anvil, which clattered into a shelf, causing a shield to slide off and roll to a weapon rack holding Gobber's hammer attachment, which fell onto one side of the cooling trough, causing water to splash out onto the fire pit. My luck has gotten so bad that one stumble can stop the production of essential weapons.

I winced at the problem I caused, slowly turning to face Gobber who looked at me, eye brows raised to form a 'Really?' look on his face. Not knowing how to respond I simply shrugged and threw in an apologetic smile. He released an exasperated groan as he removed his tong attachment and replaced it with an axed appendage.

"Since the forge is out of action, I may as well make myself useful," he stated as made to leave the forge, he then stopped, turned and looked to me for a few seconds before pointing at me. "Stay where you are," he commanded before unleashing a battle cry and charging into the flaming warzone. I waited a few seconds so that the large man could distance himself from the building, that way I could be clear of the area before he could see that I was gone.

I grinned as I hopped over to a weapon rack and picked up a sword. Now that I had some leverage and no tough dirt to offer resistance, I was able to swing the sword onto my shoulder, after five seconds of spinning around trying to control the weapon. Once in control I rested the blade on my shoulder and marched out into the fray.

The first chapter of my first story, it feels good to have this up. Please don't forget to review and tell me what you think. Grammatical editing goes to LeisaTheGreat. Check out her stories, though I'm sure you already have.