Hello, mastesargent here, and I say hello to the community!

I've been watching How to Train Your Dragon a lot lately, and couldn't help but think, "I think I could tell the story a bit better." So, here I am, writing my first story. This story will be told from different points of view (mainly Hiccup, Stoick, and Astrid, but you will see some Toothless and Gobber). I am planning on writing a companion to this which will focus exclusively on Toothless, but for now this will be my focus. I don't plan on updating regularly, just whenever it most conveniences me. One last thing: I am going to use a few deleted scenes, so if you see something that wasn't in the movie, it's probably a deleted scene.

Alright, now that we've got some formalities out of the way, let's get started. We start off an a rocky island, early in the morning...

Chapter 1

This is Berk

POV: Hiccup Haddock

I woke up, earlier than usual, and began running the summary of my home that I ran through my head every day.

'This is Berk. It's about twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. My village. In a word? Sturdy, and it's been here for seven generations, but every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunset. The only problems are the pests. You see, most places have mice, or mosquitoes. We have…'

As I finished dressing, I heard the alarm rise. 'Right on cue,' I thought miserably to myself as I opened the door. A Monstrous Nightmare swooped in, directly towards me. In a panic, I hurriedly slammed the door. Right in time, too, as its sticky fire burst through the edges of the door. "… Dragons!" I finished to myself.

I running out the door, I dashed through the ongoing dragon raid, half dazed. 'Most people would leave,' I thought as I saw a man fling himself after his livestock. 'Not us. We're Vikings. We have… stubbornness issues.' Another man was half sitting, half standing inside the mouth of a Gronkle, beating it with his hammer. He was flung away moments later.

'My name's Hiccup. Great name, I know, but it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. As if our "charming" Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.'

A Viking, blasted on top of me by a dragon, proceeded to scream in my face, before cheerily saying, "Mornin'!" and charging back into the fight.

As I ran towards the blacksmith stall, I passed Hoark the Haggard, Burnthair the Broad, and Phlegma the Fierce.

"What are you doing out!"

"Get inside!"

"Get back inside!"

I also passed Ack, who was far more concerned with the contents of his ear than the walkway he was supposed to be guarding.

Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted into the air. 'Thank the Gods,' I thought. It was the chieftain of Berk, a beefy man with red air and a red, flowing beard. "Hiccup!" he said. "What's he doing out again? What are you doing out? Get back inside!"

'That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the Tribe. They say when he was a baby he popped a dragon's head clean off its shoulders. Do I believe it?'

Stoick lifted up a cart, throwing it at a Deadly Nadder as it flew by. The cart collided and splintered on the Dragon's body.

'Yes I do.'

"What have we got?" asked Stoick.

"Gronkles. Nadders. Zipplebacks. Oh, and Hoark saw a Monstrous Nightmare," replied a Viking.

"Any Night Furies?"

"None so far."

"Good," replied Stoick.

"Hoist the torches!" I heard as I dashed through the village. Large bowls of fire were raised into the air, lighting up the night sky to the dragons attacking the island.

"Ah! Nice of you to join the party!" said the blacksmith as I entered the stall.

"I thought you'd been carried off!" he teased as he repaired several mangled weapons with his hammer and 'tongs.' His right hand was missing, replaced by one several inter-changeable appendages. His left foot was also gone, replaced by a peg that connected at the knee.

"Who, me?" I replied, donning my apron. "Nah, come on! I'm way too muscular for their taste!" I countered, while putting away, with effort, one of his larger appendages.

"Well they have to have toothpicks, don't they?" he jeered.

'The meathead with attitude and inter-changeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little… Well, littler.'

I was by far the weakest of the tribe, with a rather unusual appearance. I was thin and gangly, but not tall. I had a head full of naturally combed over brown hair. Easily the smallest in my age group.

From across the plaza, I heard Stoick's booming voice. "We'll move to the lower defenses, Counter-attack with the catapults!"

Directly behind him, a Monstrous Nightmare fired, hitting and burning a house with its liquid-like fire.

'See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.'

"Fire!"

Four teens my age rushed past the stall, carrying buckets and carting a large container of water.

'Oh and that's Fishlegs, Snotlout. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut. And…'

As the last teen emptied her bucket into the fire, a large explosion (caused by a dragon, no doubt) erupted in its place, just as she turned around.

'Astrid.'

Astrid was blonde, had a slender frame (slender, not skinny like me), and blue eyes. Snotlout had a beefy build, dark brown hair, and a generally mean look to his face. Fishlegs was fat. Fat to the point that he could be mistaken as an adult if he wasn't as short as he was. The twins, other than gender, looked more or less the same. They both had long blonde hair and similar facial structures.

'Their job is so much cooler.' I thought, leaning out of the stall to get a better view. Gobber pulled me back inside. "Oh, come on," I complained, "Let me out please. I need to make my mark."

"Oh, you've made plenty of marks," Gobber objected, "All in the wrong places!"

"Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get a date." I argued, flourishing my hand in the general direction that Astrid went.

"You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!" said Gobber, lifting up a bola, which, to his surprise, was taken by a Viking behind him, who proceeded to rope a Gronkle and knock it out of the air.

"Okay, fine," I agreed, running towards my latest invention, a bolas-shooting ballista. "But this will throw it for me," I pointed out, tapping the machine lightly, which managed to unfold itself and fire through the window, knocking out the unlucky Viking at the window.

"See, now this here is what I'm talking about!" said Gobber, anger creeping into his voice.

"A mild calibration issue-"I began.

"Hiccup," Gobber cut off, "If you ever want to get out and fight dragons, you need to stop all… this." He made a flourish in my general direction.

"But you just gestured to all of me!"

"That's it! Stop being all of you!"

"Oh…" I said, trying to sound threatening.

"Oh, yes," Gobber imitated.

"You, sir, are playing a dangerous game!" I threatened, "Keeping this much raw… Viking… ness contained! There will be consequences!"

"I'll take my chances," Gobber replied, tossing me a dull sword, a heavy one, mind you. "Sword. Sharpened. Now." And with that he turned around without another word.

Alright! I've got no notes for this chapter, so if you stuck through this chapter, review at your leisure!