This idea actually came to me as I was reading another fanfiction. I don't remember the title of it, but if I find it again, I'll let you all know. Now, why don't we see just what I've got cookin' in this here noggin of mine, shall we? Just want to let you know that for the most part, this story will follow the events of the first movie before I start deviating towards the RWBY-Verse. And now, as I used to say…
...ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!
*I still don't own How To Train Your Dragon, and I don't own RWBY or any of its characters!*
Dialogue Key
"Knock it off, Vomit Boy." = regular speech
'You should talk, Crater Face.' = someone's thoughts
"Night Fury! Get down!" = someone yelling
"Foolish Mortals!" = deities speaking
This is Berk - Dragon Raid and Regrets of Brothers!
Beyond the realm of Remnant, there exists a void. A void where there are infinite universes and timelines all existing as one. Some crossing over with others, some not. Some having a different set of people, others having the same. Some having changes so small you could hardly tell the difference between them, while others are so radically different they defy comprehension.
And it is here that two brothers reside.
They are the Twin Gods of Remnant. The very same who brought about that universe's humanity and the Faunus as well as humanity's greatest enemy, the foul creatures of Grimm.
While one brother embodies the properties and traits of light, the other embodies those of the darkness. They represent the balance of light and shadow, night and day, good and evil, yin and yan. But it is these same brothers who seem to be drowning in their own guilt over a series of events that have transpired since they were forced to wipe out humanity and have life on Remnant begin all over.
And it all started when they cursed a poor, hurting woman named Salem with immortality. She can not age, nor can she die or be killed no matter what she tries. Believe me when I say that she's tried everything just to end the loneliness and suffering of being immortal. Even going so far as to dive into one of the many pools where the Grimm spawn from, thus turning herself half Grimm. But in doing so, it also, over time, twisted her mind and her ideals as she began to believe that she had to unify the world by forcing all others to bow before her as their undisputed empress of the world.
They had sent her former husband and lover, Ozma, or Ozpin as he goes by now, to try and help put her back on the right path with a curse of his own. The curse of Reincarnation. Every time Ozma dies or is killed, his soul remains intact and is placed in a new body. But the body is already inhabited by another soul that merges with his own over time. And each time he reincarnates, he becomes much weaker as a warrior than he once was. And he does not regain that lost power no matter how hard he trains.
Kinda like the Namekians in Dragon Ball Z. Whenever they regenerate lost limbs, their power drops a small amount and stays where it is afterwards.
As the brothers watched over the multiverse of their own realm, the Brother of Light sighed as he watched yet another universe be saved at the cost of its greatest heroes. Ruby Rose, last of the Silver Eyed Warriors, and her friends and fellow huntsmen known as teams RWBY and JNPR.
"Why did we have to be so foolish, brother? Why did we have to curse that poor woman with something like immortality?" lamented Light as he looked back on his and his brother's mistake. "She had just lost her husband to a disease that had claimed him before his time, and all we did was cause her to resent humanity and wish its destruction or enslavement!"
"You are correct, brother. In almost all of these universes, Salem is indeed defeated. But at a cost that is simply too great." Darkness said in agreement. "We must do something to prevent her from destroying everything! ...But what?"
Soon the eyes of both brothers landed on another universe. One that is a blank slate. They caught glimpses of events that would pass in this new universe. Ones that are similar to Remnant, and yet very different.
Vikings… Dragons… A young man who unites the two…
The brothers looked to each other and communicated through their eyes. It seems as though they've come to an agreement. This world is the one where they will find their champion. The one who shall bring about balance and right the wrong that has been done by them.
But they're going to need a live audience to see just how this goes.
"Let's go find those Vikings!" Darkness exclaimed as he teleported away.
"Hey! Wait for me!" Light exclaimed as he teleported after his brother.
Within the vision that the two brothers of Light and Dark are seeing, we see an island coming into view in the dead of night. It was a calm night in the Barbaric Archipelago, and all seemed eerily quiet in the area where we know that any long amount of peace with Vikings was just a sign that something big was gonna go down.
'This is Berk. It's twelve days North of hopeless, and a few degrees South of freezing to death. It's located solidly on the meridian of misery.' says a heavily sarcastic if slightly nasally male voice.
The camera pans for a close-up of the village. A wave crashes upon the rocky shoreline, sending a foamy spray of sea water disbursing into the air. Each building looks to be made of a combination of stone and wood. Smoke billowed out of some of the chimneys, showing that there were fires lit inside.
'My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but every house is new.'
Next, we see a small part of the field where some domesticated sheep are seen grazing on grass in an almost lazy manner. And I only say it's lazy, due to their eyes being droopy.
'We have fishing, hunting and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems are the pests.'
The camera shifts to two sheep in particular. They're both grazing side by side, probably hoping to get the best grazing spots with the most grass for them to eat. Gluttonous little wool makers.
'You see, most people have mice or mosquitoes. We have…'
Something swoops down and snatches the sheep on the right, making the other sheep look towards the now vacant spot. It then proceeds to 'inconspicuously' scoot over to the spot in order to get more grass in its greedy belly.
Utter pandemonium erupted in the village as houses began to catch fire and reptiles with wings soared through the sky, stealing food and livestock from the village. The inhabitants of Berk, who we now see are a clan of Vikings, rushed out with weapons in hand to fight back against the flying reptiles. One in particular stopped for a moment and shot a fire blast at the screen, but a thick wooden door quickly closed to block the fire, some of it seeping in from between the cracks in the boards used to make the door.
Leaning against the door is a fourteen year old boy with light skin that has a dusting of freckles, Auburn brown hair that falls down straight around his head, and green eyes. He's a pretty scrawny fellow for his age and seems to be a bit on the short side. He wears a long-sleeved green tunic under a bearskin vest, green pants and fur boots. He has a brown belt tied around his waist, and he seems to be more intelligent than your average Viking.
"...Dragons!" breathed the boy.
He yelped as his house rocked, having been hit by more dragon fire. He knew if one of these creatures were to get into his house, he might not stand a chance in such a cramped environment. There'd be nowhere for him to run to safety if one got inside! Especially if they decide to set his home on fire. So, against his own better judgement, he did something his father wouldn't want him to do.
The young boy rushed out of his now burning house in order to try and help his fellow villagers. Due to his diminutive stature compared to everyone else, he was able to easily weave through the crowd. Over, under, between, you name it and he can dodge it. And he was surprisingly quick footed, unlike every other heavyset man and woman on this island. That, and the fact that he has no iron armor or weapons weighing him down.
And apparently he's the one who's currently narrating.
'Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings, we have stubbornness issues.'
This was proven by one Viking leaping up and grabbing on to a yak that one of the Dragons was trying to carry off. But this just resulted in the man being taken for a ride. The boy continued running through the chaos of the village, ignoring all of the warnings and the yells of 'get back inside' from the other Vikings.
'My name's Hiccup. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third. Great name, I know, especially in Viking society. But it's not the worst. Parents believe that a horrific name will frighten off Gnomes and Trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't?'
"AAAARRRRGGGHH!" cried a Viking male as he fell in front of Hiccup, axe raised and ready to strike.
But the Viking quickly recovered and walked away as he gave a cheery/insane smile to the lad.
"Mornin'!" he greeted.
Several other Vikings are seen rushing along wooden bridges and paths as they tried to move the livestock to safer locations. But when you're up against flying dragons, it's kind of difficult to avoid getting things like sheep and chickens snatched up from your grasp. But these guys are Vikings. To them, the Dragons are nothing more than an occupational hazard.
Hiccup continued on his way through the mass of fighting Vikings and Dragons as he tried to get to his destination without taking too much damage. Which would likely end up life threatening due to him being slighter and much weaker than the others on this island. Believe me when I say that life here on Berk ain't easy for young Hiccup.
'Meet the neighbors. Hoark the Haggard…'
"What are you doing out?!" he shouted.
'...Burnthair the Broad…'
"Get inside!" he also shouted.
'...Phlegma the Fierce…'
"Get back inside!" she ordered.
But like all the others, Hiccup just ignored her and continued on his way. He was determined to do his duty and help out in any way he could.
'Ack.'
Hiccup ran past a Viking man who looked kinda like a yak. Amidst all the chaos of the raid, all he was doing was standing there picking his ear with his finger.
'Yup. Just Ack.'
Eventually, Hiccup was forced to stop as a large fireball exploded right in front of his path. He quickly checked his surroundings to make sure no other dragons were attacking the area. Once he was in the clear, a voice made itself know to him.
"Hiccup?!" gasped a deep male voice.
Hiccup turned around and came upon the sight of a large Viking man with a long beard that was done in many braids and was wearing a bearskin cape; a traditional garment of Viking chiefs. But he clearly wasn't happy that Hiccup was out and about. Especially since the man roughly picked the boy up by the back of his tunic, practically shaking him around like a sock monkey.
"What is he doing out again?" Stoick asked a few nearby Vikings accusingly, yelling as he did before turning to Hiccup and speaking in the same volume despite the close proximity. "What are you doing out?! Get inside!"
He roughly shoved the boy back to the ground, causing Hiccup to scramble back to his feet and run off for the Blacksmith stall. A fireball crashed near this man and illuminated his features in a way that seemed both heroic and ominous at the same time. Which is actually quite believable since these are Vikings we're talking about.
'That's Stoick the Vast, chief of Berk. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a Dragon's head off it's shoulders. Do I believe it?'
Stoick noticed a Dragon about to attack and quickly grabbed a wooden wheelbarrow, throwing it at the Dragon with all he had. The resulting crash caused the beast to fall right out of the sky.
'...Yes I do!'
Figuring that his father had things under control here, our young hero ran off at a much faster pace to help out in the only way he really could. By repairing weapons at the forge. And while Hiccup did that, Stoick calmly brushed some burning debris off his shoulder while asking for a status report from one of the other Viking men.
"What have we got?"
"Gronckles, Nadders, Zipplebacks, Oh! And Hoark saw a Monstrous Nightmare!" reported a Viking named Spitelout.
"Any Night Furies?" Stoick asked.
"None so far." Spitelout replied.
"Good." Stoick said, sounding relieved.
"HOIST THE TORCHES!" yelled one of the Vikings.
Some of the more burly Vikings grunted as they hoisted huge wooden poles with burning braziers on top of them. These fires illuminated the sky, revealing swirling Dragons of all types raiding the village.
Luckily for Hiccup, he got to the Blacksmith Stall with no incident and was greeted by a Viking who seemed to be smithing using a pair of tongs for his left hand. He also had a peg-leg and a stone replacement tooth. Most likely, a hook would have been in place of the tongs if he wasn't currently smithing.
"Ah! Nice of you to join the party. I thought you'd been carried off." he said to Hiccup.
Said boy quickly put on a leather apron and began to quickly and efficiently put away the larger man's many artificial appendages that were scattered about the work area. As he spoke, his voice sounded a little strained as he had to lift several objects that were much, much heavier than he's used to. And believe me, working in a forge has you lifting some pretty heavy objects on an almost daily basis.
"Who, me? Nah, come on! I'm way too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all this." Hiccup retorted, striking a bodybuilder pose.
This of course merely emphasized his almost non-existent muscle mass. There are muscles there, but they're more lean and compact like those of a swimmer or a runner instead of a stereotypical Viking.
"Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?" the older Viking asked with a grin as he switched the tongs out for a hammer.
'The meathead with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. ...Well, little-er.'
Back in the village, Stoick is busy giving the other warriors instructions about what to do to defend the village. More importantly, they need to defend their food supplies.
"We move to the lower defenses. We'll counter-attack with the catapults."
Several Viking men started moving across a bridge with Stoick close behind, trying to get the sheep to safety. As they did this, a Dragon strafed overhead and shot at a building with napalm fire, lighting it ablaze.
'See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.'
"FIRE!" yelled another Viking.
"Alright, let's go!" shouted a teenage female Viking.
It was at this point that the fire brigade, a group of teenagers in Hiccup's age group ran in and began filling buckets with water to try and extinguish the flames. The group is composed of three boys and two girls. As he names them off, we see what they look like.
'Oh, and that's Fishlegs Ingerman…'
A rather large boy with messy blonde hair and pale skin yelps as he dumps his bucket of water on the burning building. He's wearing a fur vest over a red tunic, black pants, fur boots, and a Viking helmet with really short, slightly curved horns on either side.
'My arrogant cousin, Snotlout Jorgenson…'
Snotlout is much less fat than Fishlegs, being mostly bulky muscle as is common with Vikings. All of which is in his torso and arms. He wears a fur vest over a pale yellow tunic, an armored belt that holds up his brown pants, fur boots, brown leather wrappings around his forearms, and a Viking helmet with horns that are curled like ram horns. He too dumps his water on the fire but isn't a scaredy cat when he does it. At least not externally. On the inside, he's worried that he might end up carried off by a dragon.
'The twins and resident followers of Loki, Tuffnut Thorston and Ruffnut Thorston…'
Tuffnut and Ruffnut both have long blonde hair, pale skin, and blue eyes, and they both share the same lithe body type. However, there are some key differences to tell them apart.
For one, Tuffnut has his hair done up in a way where it falls over the front of his shoulders, and he wears a green tunic with a brown belt under a fur vest, gray pants, fur boots, and greenish brown wrappings around his forearms. He also wears a Viking helmet with two sets of horns. The top horns are short and curve upwards, while the bottom horns are thick, ridged, and curve upwards more like elk antlers.
Ruffnut has a more greenish tinge to her hair and wears it in a pair of braids that go over her shoulders. Her helmet is similar to her brother's, but the horns are longer and thinner than the ones on his. She wears a light brown animal skin mini-vest with a dark blue tunic that goes a little past her hip and ends in tatters, a metal-leather belt around her waist, dark brown leggings and dark blue furry boots. She also wears a dark gray cloth brace on both of her forearms that starts at her elbows and ends at the wrist with a little bit of cloth going between her first and second finger.
The twins briefly fight over their bucket of water before tripping over each other and getting soaked with the water they were supposed to use to douse the flames.
'...And... Astrid Hofferson.'
She is the last one to dump her water on the fire, but it's surely not enough. Really, this particular Viking teen is so well respected on Berk, she needs no introduction or description of what she looks like. But for the sake of fairness, especially since the other Viking teens were described, let's do it anyway.
She has long, blonde hair that is styled in a braid down her back with bangs that initially cover the left side of her face and a metal-studded leather band that goes across her forehead. In the first movie, she wears a sleeveless shirt in varying shades of steel-blue, tan cloth bracers on her arms (each bit of cloth goes between her first and second finger) with bicep wrappings above them, a brownish red skirt with spikes surrounding it, another black skirt underneath the spiked one, and dark blue leggings. She wears a belt decorated with silver skulls with a pouch tied to it and also metal shoulder guards which are attached to two silver skulls.
A slow motion fireball erupts behind Astrid, framing her in a sexy ball of fire. The other teen soon join her as the ball of fire grows larger behind them. This causes their exit to look cool and heroic in comparison to most of the other Vikings who simply look more like wild, rampaging bulldozers gone on a warpath.
Hiccup's eyes were focused on Astrid as romantic music played in the background of his mind and he had this goofy, dreamy look on his face… until the sound of a record scratching and his face turning to one of dismissal put an end to that. Kinda like Scrat in Ice Age Continental Drift.
'You see, I used to have one of the biggest crushes on Astrid when I entered my teen years. Key phrase being 'used to'. But that crush died when she started becoming more and more of a perfectionist jerk and treated me worse than the dirt beneath her feet. Now Tuffnut and I are the only boys in the village who aren't completely gaga over 'The Great Astrid Hofferson'.'
Hiccup quickly snaps out of his funk as he realizes that this is his big chance to finally show his stuff.
'I may not like Astrid that way anymore, but man, hers and the others' job is so much cooler than mine.'
Hiccup was about to try to go out and help them, but he was easily stopped by Gobber, who grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt with his hook hand. Quite an easy feat when the man has a lot more meat on his bones than Hiccup does.
"Seriously, Gobber!? You too!? It's bad enough that I get manhandled by everyone else in the village including my father, but now YOU!?" Hiccup rapidly questioned.
"The others do so because they don't like you. I do it because I'm trying to keep you from getting yourself killed out there." Gobber explained before adding "And it wouldn't be so easy to do if you weren't so light, Toothpick."
"Oh, for the love of…! Come on! Let me out, please! I've gotta make my mark out there!" Hiccup pleaded.
"Oh, you've made plenty of marks, alright! In all the wrong places!" Gobber retorted.
"Please, two minutes, that's all I'm asking! I'll go out there, kill a Dragon, and my life will be infinitely better. I might even get a date." Hiccup pleaded again.
But Gobber wasn't budging. But not because he doesn't want the boy to achieve his maximum potential. It's because he doesn't want to see the boy who he sees as a son or a nephew get killed out there by a dragon before his time. And really, it's a legitimate fear. After Stoick's wife was carried off by a dragon in a raid when Hiccup was a baby, he's made it his life's mission to try and teach the lad all he can and make sure he's ready for combat out there. And he's just not ready for the life of a true Viking. Not just yet.
"Hiccup, I know you mean well, but the fact is that you won't last a minute out there as you are now. I don't mean to sound harsh about it, but you can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, and you can't even throw one of these!" Gobber offered as a retort while picking up a nearby bola.
A passing Viking grabs said Bola and throws it at a Dragon that was about to make off with a Yak, effectively tying it up and keeping it from flying off.
"Okay fine, you are correct on all accounts, but…"
Hiccup removed a drape from some sort of contraption he's made. In terms of overall design, it looks almost like a miniature catapult combined with a crossbow. If Gobber was being honest with himself, he's both wary and amazed by the machine. Wary that it might mess things up somehow, and amazed at the ingenious design. Say what you will about Hiccup, but what he lacks in overall muscle, he makes up for with a very large brain. Something many Vikings in today's society are severely lacking.
"This will throw it for me." Hiccup stated.
However, the moment was short lived as some sort of glitch causes the machine to throw the Bola too early. This made him hit a Viking that had come to the stall to get his Axe sharpened.
"ARGH!" he yelled as he went down.
Hiccup winced when he saw that happen. He honestly didn't mean to do that. Especially since his Bola Launcher had yet to be tested.
"Sorry!" he apologized.
"See? Now this right here is what I'm talking about!" Gobber exclaimed.
"Mild calibration issue! All I have to do is…"
Hiccup began to turn his Bola Launcher, causing Gobber to panic a little before he started scolding Hiccup again.
"Don't shoot! No! Hiccup! If you ever want to get out there to fight Dragons, you need to stop all…" Gobber gestured to all of the scrawny teen. "...This."
"But… you just pointed to all of me!" Hiccup said, feeling a little miffed.
"Yes! That's it! Stop being all of you." Gobber said.
For a brief moment a look of hurt appeared on Hiccup's face, but it was quickly replaced by a mask of sarcastic irritation. And really, dealing with the scorn of all the villagers for so long just for not being 'Viking-like', he's gotten good at masking his true feelings.
"Ohhhh…" growled Hiccup.
"Ohhhhh… yes." Gobber playfully growled back, like how one's father would.
"You, sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much raw… vikingness contained. There WILL be consequences!" Hiccup declared dramatically.
Gobber didn't seem all that bothered by this threat. He's heard it at least ten times before, and each time he's managed to have Hiccup contain all of that 'raw vikingness', as he calls it.
"I'll take my chances." he said while tossing a sword to Hiccup.
Surprisingly, the boy was able to catch it and hold it with little issue. He just had to do so using both arms instead of holding it in one hand.
"Sword. Sharpen. Now." Gobber instructed.
Hiccup quickly moved over to a grinder and began to sharpen the edges of the blade he was working with. But his mind was not entirely on his work.
'One day I'll get out there. Because killing a Dragon is everything around here.'
You see, unlike everyone else in Berk, Hiccup wasn't trained much to become a dragon killer. But if there's one thing he is, it's determined. Determined to prove himself to the village and to his father. But as he continued narrating, Hiccup started going over several of the Dragons that invade Berk. One of them is a bipedal dragon with wings for arms that scared off a flock of seagulls as it landed near a storehouse.
'A Nadder head is enough to get me at least noticed around here. They're beautiful dragons and have the hottest fire in the known Viking world. And with their poisonous spines that they can launch at will from their tails along with their own natural speed and agility, Nadders are difficult for even an experienced Viking to bring down.'
The Nadder climbed up to the roof of the house and began ripping it apart and sending sheep scattering to find cover. Elsewhere, a few hippo-like Dragons called Gronckles are seen plucking fish from drying racks before flying off with their catch like some sort of reptilian pelicans.
'Gronckles are tough. Their jaw strength is massive, their hide is almost impenetrable, and they have a devastating fire attack. Killing one of them would definitely get me a girlfriend.'
A snake-like Dragon head slithered its way to a storehouse and begins to fill it with green colored gas that it exhales from its mouth.
'A Zippleback? Exotic, exciting. Two heads, twice the status. From what I've observed, one head releases a highly flammable gas, and the other head ignites a spark to light it. The results are quite explosive, if I do say so myself.'
A second head pokes through the door and ignites the gas with a spark from its mouth, causing the whole thing to go up in an explosion of fire. The two heads fly through the fire and smoke to reveal that the two heads are attached to one body. Kind of like siamese twins. It flew past Stoick as he got to the top of the catapult tower.
"They found the sheep!" yelled the catapult operator.
"Concentrate fire over the lower bank!" Stoick ordered, having to yell over the utter pandemonium of the raid.
The operators of the catapults take aim at some Dragons before their leader gives the command.
"Fire!"
Rocks are lobed at a few flying Nadders… just as a huge red Dragon whips past, shooting the base of the catapult with sticky fire. This fire is likely formed from Kerosene Gel.
'And then there's the Monstrous Nightmare. A massive dragon that's even tougher than the Gronckle species with speed to backup their power. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.'
The huge Dragon emerged from the flames, climbing the catapult with a leering, toothy grin. If one were to ever come face to face with this baby, they'd definitely understand why they call it a Monstrous Nightmare. And likely wet themselves in the process.
Seeing the danger he and his men were in due to this flaming beast, Stoick grabbed his hammer and ordered his men to leave.
"Reload! I'll take care of this!"
And so, Stoick the Vast began to take on the Nightmare face to face. And by that, I mean he's practically slapping it silly using a war hammer, drawing both pain and ire from the massive beast that is practically a more feral version of a Pteranodon. Quite amazing how Stoick's hammer hasn't caught fire from the repeated smacks against the burning flesh of the dragon.
Suddenly, a loud ballistic moaning streaked overhead, causing the catapult crew to duck at the sound. Within the blacksmith stall, Hiccup stopped working as he too heard the sound of the one creature said to be a legend among the Vikings.
'But the ultimate prize is the Dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the-'
"NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!" yelled a Viking.
Vikings everywhere try to take shelter as they tried to predict where the attack would hit. The moaning steadily got louder and louder as the Night Fury got closer and closer. At the catapult where Stoick and the Nightmare were doing battle, the Dragon suddenly stops fighting and takes flight as it tried to get away.
Stoick looked skyward and quickly came to a startling realization. Luckily, his instincts are sharp as a freshly made sword, and his reflexes are sharper.
"JUMP!" he shouted frantically.
He and the other Viking men working on the catapult got out of the way just in the nick of time as a purple energy blast hit the catapult, causing it to explode as though it were hit by a common military howitzer artillery shell.
'This thing never steals food, never shows itself and…'
The smoke cleared, revealing the smoldering remains of what was once the catapult. A rather daunting display of power from any dragon, if I do say so myself.
'...Never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. And I intend to be the first.'
In the stall, Gobber quickly traded his hammer for an axe. After making sure that it was secure, which can be a bit tricky due to the differences in weight between a hammer and an axe, he ran out of the Blacksmith stall.
"Man the fort, Hiccup! They need me out there!" Gobber ordered.
Before he left, he quickly turned around and gave Hiccup some final orders.
"Stay. Put. There." upon seeing Hiccup's face, he adds "You know what I mean."
Gobber unleashed a war cry as he ran into the fray, completely oblivious to the look on Hiccup's face. A look that has spelt trouble for the entire village on more than one occasion. Mostly due to the fact that he just up and decides to do things his way. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing… most of the time.
Not even a minute after Gobber left, Hiccup ran through a wall of Vikings with his contraption. He was ready to try his luck and shoot down a Night Fury. Much to both the surprise and displeasure of the rest of the Vikings.
"Hiccup, where are you going!?" demanded a Viking.
"Get back here!" another one demanded.
"Yeah, I know. Be right back!" Hiccup replied.
On one of the houses below, Nadders have cornered a flock of sheep, ready to pounce on them. These particular Nadders are lead by a male Nadder who is primarily orange and pale green in his color combination, with some light blue on his nose and legs.
But before the Nadders could pounce, Stoick and a few of his men appear in time to save the sheep by throwing fishnets over the Dragons. The surprised Nadders are easily caught as Stoick and his men rush in. One of the Nadders manages to get it's head freed from the net by shooting a burst of its Magnesium flame. However, Stoick is quick to hold its jaw shut.
"Mind yourselves! The devils still have some juice in them!" Stoick warned.
He is thrown around a bit due to the strength of the dragons, but is easily able to pin it again due to his own weighty bulk. One of the advantages to being born into Viking culture and having the right genetics.
Hiccup wheeled his contraption over to an unlit cliff overlooking an unmanned catapult. Placing it where he wanted to, he transformed it into his bola launcher. Once he finished setting it up his eyes scoured the skies for a sign of the Night Fury.
"Come on. Give me something to shoot at. Give me something to shoot at." he said to himself.
Squinting, he was able to make out the outline of the Night Fury as it covered the stars that it flew between. The whistling scream started again, signifying anther attack from the mighty beast. Hiccup took aim at the catapult, waiting for the one chance he had. The plasma blast was shot obliterating the catapult, causing the dragon's' form to be illuminated by the blast. He trailed the dragon and fired, sending himself into the turf. When he looked up, there was the sound of a dragon scream and the outline of the dragon was seen by Hiccup plummeting into the forest.
"I hit it…! Yes, I did it! Oh, did anybody see that?" Hiccup exclaimed.
However, his victory was short lived as a Monstrous Nightmare snuck up behind him and crushed his machine beneath its talons.
"Except for you." Hiccup said dryly.
*To Be Continued…*
So, what do you think of it so far. I know it's starting pretty much the same as most of my other How To Train Your Dragon stories with a few minor differences. But there are going to be major changes later on, so please bear with me on this. Anyway, here's the planned pairing for this story.
Hiccup x Harem (Members will be decided as the story goes on.)
If you have any suggestions for the harem, I'm all ears. Just no Astrid and no Ruffnut. I have plans for them.
Thank you guys so much for reading. Please don't forget to vote on the poll that's up on my profile. May the Force be with you, and have a great day my Jedi and Sith friends.
