Only a month had passed since the fall of the Green Death and the unification of two formerly warring species. Dragon and Viking; united by the bravery of a boy and the trust of his dragon. With the "death" of the Green Death, it seemed as if the land were about to embark on a golden era of peace. But alas, it was not meant to be. Only a month and trouble once again stirred on the Isle of Berk. This "trouble", swiftly caught the attention of Viking chief Stoick the Vast who, almost immediately, called for a meeting within the village's great hall.

"We are gathered here today to discuss a very important matter." Stoick declared amidst a large assemblage of the Viking peoples. Hiccup, his son, sat with the rest of his former dragon-training classmates at the front of the throng, fidgeting and nervous. He never was one for town meetings. Mostly they just discussed a shortage of arrows oand stale bread. Something about this meeting was different though, Hiccup could feel.

"It has come to my attention," Stoick continued in his gruff, accented voice, "that a number of dragons have been disappearing from the northern section of a forest." He paused, eyeing the crowd. "This leads myself and several elders to believe that dragon-poaching is currently taking place without our knowledge."

A chorus of gasps broke through the silence that followed this shocking announcement. Immediately, hands rose and questions were asked though none could be properly heard. Vikings were not the most orderly, as you'd probably know. Stoick banged the butt of his hammer on the table in front of him, motioning for silence. He was partly successful.

"As you all know, dragon hunting is now banned, and whoever is doing this shall be punished greatly!" He slammed a burly fist onto the same hapless table to prove a point. The sounding bang! of his fist on the stiff rowan echoed across the room. The aforementioned table had now begun to crack. "If you have any idea at all as to who is causing this monstrosity," He shouted, pausing again for effect; his tone borderline serious and angry, "please step forward so that I and the rest of the village may hear it!"

For several minutes, not a single person stirred, until finally, a stout Viking stepped forward with his information and an object which he clutched tightly in his hands. He seemed nervous but began to speak after a minute or so of intensely awkward silence. "I-I… Our hunting party came back with this…" he stammered, holding up the object which was in fact a hatchet, though not by any means a normal one. On this particular axe's shaft was embroidered a crest depicting a dragon's head, mouth open revealing a forked tongue, and long reptilian wings which wove around the wooden handle, slightly eroded from exposure to the elements. The crowd gasped. Hiccup however, raised an eyebrow. While the villagers were doing their gasping, he decided to learn more about the symbol which he had never seen before.

"Why are they so afraid of that axe?" Hiccup wondered loudly, a question which caught the attention of Astrid.

"Not so much afraid," the blonde-haired girl explained, "but more so shocked."

"Why?" Hiccup couldn't help but ask. It was evident that this was something he had not read about.

"Why?" She looked at him, abashed. "Didn't you pay any attention at all during Viking elementary school?"

"Does this have to do with history? Because I-"

"Yes!" She snapped, almost angrily. "Anyways, that crest is the crest of Plackus the Fat and his town, Wyfort."

"Plackus-who?" Hiccup knew he'd regret saying those words but couldn't resist the temptation of saying them anyway.

"Plackus the Fat," Fishlegs intervened, saving him from Astrid's fiery wrath. "Plackus is a really big enemy of Berk. A long time ago, he attacked the town with his armies and there was like a really massive war. Your dad was about our age when that happened. A ton of people died, but in the end, we were able to win."

"Okay…" Hiccup began, cogitating deeply on what this all meant. "But why are they so afraid of this guy? Shouldn't he be dead by now? I mean, he's got to be ancient, right?"

"Not necessarily," Astrid replied, her tone much softer. "Plackus was only a few years older than your dad when he attacked."

"He was able to command an army at that age?" Hiccup asked, his eyes wide, slightly impressed. "But what's up with the nickname?"

"He developed an eating disorder." Snotlout smirked, joining into the conversation with a snicker. Hiccup felt embarrassed at the fact that even Snotlout knew more about the subject than he did. "Apparently, he's trying to get into shape again. Like he'll be able to succeed," He snorted, rolling his eyes. "If he ever shows up here, I'll destroy him. You'll see." He flexed his arm, cupping the small orb of muscle that he had developed like he was trying to show them something.

Hiccup was about to press on for more information until he was interrupted by the booming voice of his father.

"Attention!" Stoick shouted, and immediately the room quieted. "Many of you know the meaning of this symbol." Several members of the crowd nodded in agreement, somewhat grimly.

"If this is true, Plackus the Fat has once more sent his minions into our land. Such an act is worthy of war…" The entire room erupted with shouts of accord and an excessive amount of fist-pumping. "We will not tolerate such an action. Dragons are our allies, and any attack on them, is a personal attack on us!" More cheering ensued. From the ceiling window, a round eye observed the room as the noise had attracted Toothless the Nightfury.

"Wait, what?" Hiccup shouted, snapping out of his reverie. He took a stand, and the room quieted once more.

"Hiccup, what are you doing?" warned Astrid with a hiss. "You shouldn't just speak out like that."

"What is it, son?" Stoick asked, eyeing his son carefully.

Hiccup felt the heat of hundreds of eyes boring into his back. "I just, uh…" He began sheepishly, "I just think you all are being a bit impulsive about this." Some Vikings began to protest but he cut them off. "Just hear me out. How do you know that this was indeed an attack? What if it was just a mere coincidence?"

"Coincidence!" Stoick roared, causing Hiccup to flinch. "Hiccup, do you not see the signs? Do you not care about the dragons?"

"Yes I have and yes I do, but… What if you attacked and they weren't in fact on our land to begin with? Then you just started a pointless war. Maybe you should send a few scouts or something into the forest to check things out. If some of them are in our land, maybe we can capture them and interrogate them or something…"A few voices murmured behind him. Several heads nodded.

"That would be a smart thing to do…" Stoick murmured, deep in thought. Seconds passed before he spoke again. "Alrighty then, it's settled!"

"What's settled?" Hiccup asked, confused.

"You and your friends will go as the scouts! With you as their leader!"

"What?" several voices including Hiccup's shouted, obviously confused.

"You have shown your bravery in the past, son." Stoick explained with a toothy grin. "Think of this as training for when you are the chief of the tribe! Besides, with the adjustments you've made to your foot, it's almost as good as new!" The crowd nodded in unison, something which they seemed to do fairly often. Stoick put a heavy hand on his son's thin shoulder. "Besides, you six are the only one's out of all of us that know how to fly a dragon! You'll do fine!"

Hiccup slumped. "Oh brother…"

Author's Note:

Yeah, so I felt like adding another chapter in for good measure. Just a quickie to get the plot moving on a bit. It's a little rushed but hopefully it's not too bad.