Chapter 9

No Welcome for the Triumphant

/

The purest path is the hardest won

For the world denies its good

Do you wish for what you've earned?

It shall not be found upon earth

Humanity holds greed and grudges

It does not easily give up its praise

Though you have done only what is in right

What is right pleases few as it should

Seek not the approval of the crowd

Chase the heart of what's greater

Win over not man or his wants

But earn the graces of God

-0-

Since he could only travel short distances at a time, it took Loki a series of hours to move everyone with him to their first intended stop. Teleportation was luckily nowhere near the level of exhausting as Hawken's electric travel mode (though why this was, was a metaphysical question that the Asgard illusionist would never be able to answer), but every stop over distances more than a few miles required some time for reorientation, especially where no notable landmarks existed (fair swaths of Francium were almost painfully flat and featureless, a terrible place to get lost in).

The Alps and Apennines were refreshing changes from that scenery later in the evening, and when they finally came to a stop on a hilltop above Rome, all who were present gave out sighs of relief. It was a fair sized group –Camicazi, Tuffnut, Stormfly, Twintail, Feren, Delta, Talon, Shadow, Kingsley, Attonius, Eret, and Spitfire- and they were all exhausted and ready to rest for the night. However, there would be no rest just yet; while there was still daylight, they would search as closely as they could here.

"First time I've been back here since the Malin incident," Attonius breathed out, taking in the sight of the Italian countryside blooming in the warm mid-spring weather. "I must wonder how the safe house is holding up."

"I bet we can stop there for a short time to see how things are going," Cami decided, looking around as well as she got her bearings.

"That would be much appreciated; it concerns me somewhat that Castor and Eryn and the others have not sent us any letters recently to notify us of happenings."

"Maybe they just forgot?" Tuff queried, to which he received and eye roll from Cami.

"Tuff, I love you, but you're dense sometimes; ministers don't just up and forget their brothers like that."

"Well, you guys were the ones who were actually here last," Feren said, looking to Attonius and Cami, "so we're following your lead on where to look and stop in. If all is well at the safe house, then we need to find the markets and trading ports."

"The shadier ones especially, as unappealing as that is sounding to me right now," Delta drawled.

"Alright, enough chatter then," Attonius decided, moving to climb onto Spitfire behind Eret (as per the arrangements made prior to teleporting to Italy). "It's only a short flight from here if I have my bearings correctly to the safe house, so we can stop in there for a time and they can help us to become caught up on any local situations we ought to be made aware of."

The others followed suit, loading up (save for Loki; telekinesis ensured he had no need to hitch a ride) and taking off, staying low to the trees to avoid notice too soon from the locals and heading to the south. The atmosphere was deceptively relaxed and calming, warm and slightly humid breezes wafting in from the Mediterranean and filling the dragons' wings and making gliding easy especially at their low altitude. The more southerly sun peeked out between the dotted clouds above, filtering the light so that even as it began to sink in the sky it was not harsh, turning everything a soft golden hue in background. Little sound reached the riders up in the sky, but what did was rather comforting: birdsong, the soft rustling of new spring leaves, and the occasional chattering of some woodland creature.

Warm fuzzy feelings rapidly evaporated upon reaching the safe house however.

"Oh Lord above!" Attonius cried, looking down in horror. "What…what on earth has happened here?!"

Stone still stood without care, but wooden support beams, the broad front doors facing the nearest road, and the sturdy flagpole that once stood above the structure's courtyard were all no longer in place. Scorch marks and shattered splinters covered the scene instead, the banners that once flew on the flagpole and corners of the building completely gone or shredded upon the walls. Even one or two of the stones on the building faces bore shattered scars, evidence of some severe event that had transpired only recently.

The riders landed, and everyone piled off of the dragons, rushing for the hole where the doors once stood. "Brutus!" Attonius yelled, stepping quickly past what was left of the shattered wood panels. "Eryn, Tatian? Anyone here?"

"Yes, if only barely," Brutus answered wearily, limping out around the corner and into view. "The others are back in the healer's room. We…we had an interesting night a few days ago, as did the rest of Rome."

"Were you attacked?" Loki asked, peering at the plethora of evidence to suggest so. "Rival power, a raid?"

"A raid of sorts, but unlike anything I've ever seen," Brutus affirmed. "For once, at least in part, our old fears concerning dragons were proven out."

A deathly silence suddenly pervaded the group. They glanced at each other, and then all to the dragons, whose eyes were widened with concern.

Twintail voiced their worries first. "Dragons did all this?" he asked slowly. "Under another Alpha, or some group on their own?"

"If it was an Alpha species then it is very good at hiding its influence," Brutus said. "These dragons all acted individually, and were even attacking each other in the chaos; I've seen enough of how you reptiles normally behave over the last few years." He looked pointedly at Twintail, then at Stormfly. "These though…they acted as if all conscious thought had been erased from them, and replaced by great rage and hunger. Up here, we were attacked by a Nightmare, a Timberjack –hence the shattered poles- a pair of Moldruffles, and a species that I have never seen before, wingless and serpentine but capable of flight. The city of Rome itself came under fire from many of the common species as well as, if they can be believed, a Mood Dragon and Whispering Death. I do not think either of those dragons survived the encounter."

"A Mood Dragon?" Stormfly queried, her scales paling. "We're a gentle species though; most like to keep to themselves. Why would one attack?"

"Why would Nadders or Timberjacks seek to destroy this place?" Brutus asked in return, gesturing to the safe house. "Our home here is still as intact as it is because we were sheltering two of the former and one of the latter at the time, and they helped us drive off all but one of the Moldruffles. That dragon was knocked out in the incident and we have her, unfortunately, tied up in one of the stables to prevent injury further to us or herself." He shook his head, and placed a hand to his forehead. "These dragons were not of sound mind when they came here, and they swept through like a plague; Rome drove off or killed the ones that attacked them, and nearly all the progress we've made in the past few years –as people were far more receptive to our message after your visit with Hawken, Attonius- has been ruined in naught but a few hours."

"Can you show us the dragon you have here?" Cami asked. "I mean, might be a long shot but maybe we can help; other dragons would know best what's wrong."

Brutus hesitated for a moment, before nodding softly. "I would warn you to keep your distance though," he said as he turned to lead them through the hall, "because even as well-trained as you all are these dragons reacted in ways I could not possibly have predicted."

Loki huffed in a half chuckle, smiling softly. "I doubt that will be a problem," he assured, looking at the remains of the doors and making an upward sweep with his hand. The shattered remains followed the gesture, rising up and binding back together until they resembled something like a decent pair of door panels once more, settling on their hinges and closing behind the group.

Brutus watched open-mouthed for a moment, before it shut in an exasperated frown and he turned away again. Loki grinned upon catching him mutter a faint, "Shouldn't even be surprised anymore," as they traveled through the hall (which was only slightly more devoid of scorch marks near the entrance than the outside of the building was).

Cami and Stormfly remembered the guest rooms that they passed, but as they continued further into the complex they approached an area the two had not visited. The living quarters of those who resided in the building and a series of variously sized "stables," with doors leading directly outside, began to branch off from the corridor. Brutus slowed them down in front of the second such stable, and carefully opened the door before stepping aside to let them see within.

Inside, lying on the bare stone that so many dragons oddly preferred and secured by tempered leather ropes and holdfasts on the walls that were clearly put in as an emergency need, was a young female Moldruffle of a color difficult to describe (Feren decided it was something along the lines of yellowish-pewter). It appeared to be asleep at the moment, with slow breaths causing its exposed sides to rise and fall rhythmically.

"It doesn't look to be all that out of sorts," Eret mused, kneeling down as he looked the dragon over. Loki quirked an eyebrow however, cautiously moving forward until he was standing just in front of the dragon's head.

"She appears to be about half the size of Bertha's dragon," he said, "young, seemingly in good health, though perhaps a little on the thin side. I am starting to wish that Valka were here with us; I may have many years of experience dealing with dragons but she still knows far more than I could ever dream of. If"-

The dragon's eyes snapped open in a sudden flash, violently jerking up to the Asgard, and following the action she sprang upward, straining against the restraints with a caterwauling growl. As the others jumped back in shock however, Loki merely lifted a hand, at the ready to halt the Moldruffle if she did somehow manage to break loose. Moreover, he leaned even closer, examining the dragon's wild eyes.

They were narrowed, seemingly unable to open to their widest extent, giving the constant impression that the dragon was in fact seething with fury. The pupils were naturally narrowed slits as opposed to the forced closure seen under an Alpha's influence, and they were ringed by unusually dark irises. The whole animal was vibrating under a manic energy, and she paused only to catch short breaths before trying to snap the restraints again, going nearly far enough to dig even the relatively soft leather into her scales.

"She's very unwell," Stormfly confirmed, though it wasn't necessary to voice the fact. She glanced between the Moldruffle and Loki, who nodded agreement. "This isn't an Alpha's influence, nor is it any sort of grudge she's holding. She…it looks almost as if she's contracted rabies, but that's a disease only mammals can get."

The Mood Dragon leaned down next to Loki, eyes widening placatingly as her scales softened to a reassuring robin's egg color. ::Forgive the treatment you have been given here, it is necessary for your safety and ours,:: she crooned. ::Can you understand me? Can you say what has happened to you?::

A savage hiss answered back, and the dragon's tail struggled to whip around in a furious frenzy. Droplets of fire also formed along the Moldruffle's wing membranes.

"Well, she's entirely unresponsive in any sentient manner," Stormfly announced, shuffling back as she flushed a pale yellow. "Brutus Loki, she is very unwell; this dragon is not showing any sentient traits whatsoever. It's…it's as if she's devolved to the state of the primitive species, like the Cavern Crasher, but constantly in a rage. I, uh, don't know any illnesses that cause anything like that, and she's not giving off pheromones."

"So, like, she's angry at everything?" Tuffnut piped up, grinning. "Totally know how that feels; cool! I mean, no it's not, but she's capable of causing so much destruction and not even caring! Dragon of fury!"

"She's also capable of destroying herself in the process," Brutus snapped, glaring with disapproval at the lanky blond. "They acted like they didn't recognize the risks at all when they attacked, coming close to crashing themselves into the walls or landing hard on shattered beams that could have skewered them when they fought."

"Well then, we need to find a cause, and if need be a cure," Talon spoke up, drawing attention to himself for the first time. "It could be all these dragons happened upon something that made them ill, or there's an epidemic passing through, like the plague with prairie dogs."

"Like what?" Brutus asked, looking at him in confusion.

"Little rodents from North America," Delta answered. "But there's a worse option too, and if Stormfly's not picking up pheromones maybe more likely: Viggo knew we'd be heading out to find Tsefan, and we know he has access to things like Dragon Root and eel extract; he might have some sort of concoction that he can poison dragons with and then set them free, and we're seeing the results of him contacting associates ahead of us to slow us down."

"As much as I hate to say that it sounds like a possible theory," Feren sighed, "you could be right. But first thing's first"- he was cut off momentarily by a piercing yowl from the bound jaws of the Moldruffle, "-we need to find out what happened in the city too, and find Viggo's men to see if we can't piece together something from this mess. If they happened to send Tsefan this way, hiding their tracks with feral dragons would make a lot of sense."

"Hey, think Percival and company are still around?" Cami grinned. "I'm sure after last time that we can at least intimidate him into talking if things are really bad."

"I haven't interacted with him if he is," Brutus answered, "but Martin and Ralen are still both around. The latter hasn't changed much, though he has been a touch less rude than before, and the former has built up his own business and has become a welcome ally to us, even a friend, what with his experience and new reach. I can give you directions on where to find them if you wish, and then it would be wise you go sooner rather than later so that things have less time to devolve further."

"And we thank you for that information," Feren answered, smiling gratefully.

Brutus nodded. "You are welcome, uh…"

"Feren."

"Feren. I shall go find a parchment immediately."

"No need," the cat said, turning and opening a pack on his side and pulling out a pen and notepad from it. "Here; this will be easier to write with as well."

Information was soon passed on, and the party soon found themselves traveling down the road toward Rome (and Cami was gaining a distinct and disturbing sense of déjà vu). The sparse woodland was marred in patches here and there by burns and broken trees, giving the trip a far more subdued atmosphere than the flight to the safe house, almost worse than when she and Hawken, with the others, went to find out about Malin years before.

"I hope we figure this out quickly," Kingsley said softly from where he was coiled around Feren's neck. "If it is the hunters causing this somehow, what happens if they affect Tsefan with it?"

"Well, barring the slight chance that Night Furies can't be affected, odd as they all seem to be," Shadow mused, earning a couple of smirks (the ones they know took a lot after goofs like Hiccup, Hawken, and Holly, after all), "we'd better be able to acquire a cure. I don't want to think of alternatives beyond that, honestly."

With that dreary statement, the mood grew even darker, and eyes focused blankly on the road ahead.

The guard tower that Cami remembered loomed before them soon enough, and as they neared shouts rang out as soldiers scrambled to get into a defensive position. Somewhere in the din everyone managed to pick up on the yelled words "Mood Dragon!" several times, and Stormfly cringed in response, scales graying out as she tried to make herself look smaller. Several lines of the red-crowned soldiers marched forward with swords and javelins held at the ready, before the head of the procession stumbled to a halt; he definitely recognized a couple of the members of the traveling party before him, just as they recognized him.

"Oh, not you again," Percival groaned, lowering his sword; around him, the others reluctantly followed his lead.

"Gee, nice to receive such a warm welcome," Cami drawled, sauntering forward with Attonius, her hands on her hips. "If your feelings toward our friends here were a little more pleasant before you might have had less reason to dislike us this time around, you know."

"Yet considering what our city has just experienced only a few days ago, my recognizing your 'friends' with mere reluctance should be taken gratefully," Percival snapped back, giving her a sneer.

"Yes, the dragon attack," Attonius spoke up before Cami could, knowing she would devolve it into an arguing match if she could. "My associates informed us of the incident, and they were besieged as well, but the dragons they were taking care of at the time also helped fend off the raiders in question."

"Dragons willingly fighting other dragons, instead of joining them?" another guard asked curiously.

"Is that so shocking?" Attonius responded. "They're not so afield from people in their habits; even under normal circumstances they can have differing views and opinions amongst themselves, and can argue like we do. But these aren't normal circumstances either, I can tell you."

Percival pursed his lips, before nodding to the others around him. As they sheathed their weapons fully, some even returning to the guard tower and checkpoints to keep vigil, he said lowly, "You had best explain what occurred then, Attonius. Much of the populace became more tolerant, open-minded about dragons after you and that shape-shifter were last here, but there's more than enough outcry from them now after this incident that it might as well have been for naught. Unless you can lay out why it happened, you might not survive even walking into Rome."

"Heh, I'd like to see them try to get rid of us. Like really, I want them to try," Tuffnut quipped, before letting out a muffled "Oomph!" as Cami stepped back and elbowed him.

Attonius nodded, but instead of speaking he simply looked to another in their party. Percival followed his gaze, and quirked his eyebrow at the garb of the man the attention was now on; it looked ancient and almost regal in some ways, and disturbingly similar to the coat he remembered Hawken wearing.

"I can likely explain best," Loki said, understanding the looks. "At least, the best one that isn't a dragon can."

"And you are?" Percival queried.

"Loki Asgard. My family was unfortunately the source of many of the Norse myths that pervade the north still."

"So you claim to have been around for a very long time, I assume then? Several hundred years is quite a tale to suppose to have lived."

"Indeed, though I did not get to experience much of that time; my sister, and the sorceress responsible for that mess, were on this earth for over 900 years though. But to the present issue however: the dragons you were attacked by were unwell, in a state you might call deranged or pure madness, though from what agent we have no idea. Dragon sociality includes Alpha species that can in a manner of speaking telepathically control and direct un-bonded dragons, but when we observed one of these afflicted raiders earlier today, she showed none of the signs of being under an Alpha's influence. They are under their own power, but not in their own right minds."

"You have one of the dragons captured?"

"They were forced to subdue her in order to avoid further injuries," Attonius answered, eyes narrowing. "And I know what you're thinking, Percy; we're hoping to find a cure, not kill her."

"Do not call me that, Attonius," Percival growled.

"Aw, what, doesn't it fit you?" Cami teased, smirking as she received a piercing glare.

"Enough," Loki snapped, fists clenching. While his friends backed off, knowing his capabilities, Percival only gave him a deadpan look. "Percival, these dragons are either sickened by a poison or disease, and we must find out which it is. Disease, though unlikely since none of our dragons here reacted as if it were, could spread and cause a greater epidemic, and if poison then that either means a source that can be avoided or removed, or someone purposely causing this. If it is the latter, then we are dealing with someone who controls a dangerous weapon that is a threat to us as much as it is you, and it would be in your best interest to aid us in preventing that."

"A more dangerous weapon than the Roman army?" Percival scoffed.

"There are dragons you could not dream of taking down with even a whole army," Loki dismissed, "and if it is a poison it could be more universal than just affecting flying reptiles; how hard-pressed would you be to fight if you were having to kill your own ailing men?"

The possible weight of that risk finally broke through and sank in, Percival's expression sobering. It could be for nothing, something that would just hurt the dragons, and then he wouldn't care, but if it wasn't…

"The emperor may wish to speak with you in that case," he decided. "You will not be well-received at first with what has happened however, so as loathe as I am to say it I and Taril here will escort you. But, if you might be able to prevent this from happening again, or at least answer some of our questions about it, then Peberona will likely wish for your words." He picked up his hanging sword and sheathed it, turning and marching to the city's entrance with the man apparently dubbed Taril next to him. Loki glanced to the others, who simply shrugged without having any clearer answers at the sudden change in tone, and followed behind the pair of guards.

Percival was right. The moment they entered Rome proper and into the view of others, the civilians presented one of two immediate reactions: fear and panic, running to hide inside buildings and behind carts, or outright anger that they displayed as looks of revulsion, glares, even shouts or insults hurled their way, and some even approached with various sharpened or blunted instruments with intent for some twisted sense of revenge. One look from Percival halted most at least, they willing to respect an authority's judgement and the angered citizens realizing the unwise act of trying to harm escorted individuals in the presence of the guards. But one small group of men and women were far more brazen than the rest, coming in to the back of the group and hurling stones and trying to grab the tails of Stormfly, Spitfire, and even Feren. One of the younger males managed a good yank to the latter.

Feren's reaction was instantaneous; cats are fast, the Macawnivore no less so, and he spun on a dime and pounced, pressing with one massive paw down to flatten the blond rabble-rouser to the cobblestone before drawing in a breath for a roar.

Tigers are loud, disturbingly frightening when they let loose, but Feren was more than three times the size of even the biggest of those, and his announcement of presence matched. The reverberating cacophony echoed down the street, silencing the block, before he tapered off and looked down with a toothy snarl, his two forward-curving tusks practically gouging the path on either side of his captive's head.

"Do not touch me again," he bellowed, teeth bared in full. "You won't get the courtesy of a warning the second time." With a snort he backed up, releasing the man who lay there in shock for several seconds before scrambling back up to join his cohorts, no longer brave enough to come anywhere near the big cat.

Feren caught out of the corner of his eye Stormfly's scales shifting somewhere between gray and a saddened blue, and nodded to himself. Standing up high on all fours, he let loose another bellowing warning.

"We know what happened; you're all mad about the disastrous raid you suffered, and we understand that!" he said loudly. "But we were not at fault, there is an illness behind this, and we are here attempting to find answers! Your harming us will only ensure greater risk of it happening again. If there is any other attack on any one of us, we will consider it unprovoked and worthy of defense against, and I will give you one warning: you will not win that fight!" Without giving any time for response, he turned to the rest of the group with a hardened expression on his muzzle. "Before anyone else here gets the bullheaded notion into their brains to pull my tail again, let's go."

As he marched past, dumbfounded looks followed; the Macawnivore was usually among the most level-headed of the Descendants, preventing conflicts and acting as a calming agent. That he was deciding suddenly that the situation permitted retaliation was not a comforting sign; nor was the overhanging problem they faced however, so perhaps it was understandable.

Word spread faster than they walked. The angered looks didn't die away entirely of course, but no one was running off in a panic or attempting attacks either. As Percival led the group further into the city, the houses and other structures began to grow larger, more ornate and clearly under the domain of wealthier peoples. Simple brick and wood gave way to ornate stones and marble pillars, spreading terraces, and elaborate gardens. The sights were not terribly shocking to a group used to living halfway in a modernized world, but Delta caught Tuffnut eyeing one particularly decorative ornament on a terrace gate with strong longing, and smacked him in the shoulder with her tail.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You're painfully obvious Tuff. Don't even think about it."

Tuff grumbled and rubbed his shoulder, plodding along as the other two raptors chuckled at his expense.

They soon approached a very large, terraced villa, centered by a sturdy and truly massive house that one could not mistake for anything other than belonging to the emperor. Smooth stone and mortar walls shone red under some form of tempered paint, sloping roofs layered in ochre shingles, and white marble columns held up the overhang above patios lining all faces of the structure. Each terrace descending around it had been sculpted with bushes and flowers, or garden plants several of which were in full bloom already and making the air alluringly fragrant.

The final component to the sight was the fence of polished iron bars, held up by granite pillars and twisted into an ornate gateway guarded by four imposing men. Said men immediately stood tall and crossed their spears as the group approached, sending a clear message of non-admittance.

"Stand at peace, men," Percival announced, holding out his hand to halt their procession as he and Taril continued forward. "We carry a message for Emperor Peberona, a party here that may be of assistance in preventing possible further attacks from dragons. It is an urgent matter."

"We will pass the message on; wait here," one of the guards ordered, turning to open and slip through the gate as the others held their positions and looked at the Riders mistrustfully. Then, they waited as he walked up the path and disappeared beyond the bushes obscuring the front of the house.

Feren and Stormfly both leaned forward, ears pricked up as they tried to pick up conversation from within, but as the distance was too far they soon resigned themselves to simply waiting with the rest.

Minutes passed in awkward silence under the watch of the palace guards, tails flicking back and forth impatiently and thumbs twiddling away likewise. Kingsley, ever the more quiet one, was also becoming fidgety from where he now sat around Shadow's neck, eyes flickering in temptation over the gate he knew he at least could disappear through without the guards being any the wiser. He needn't have worried long however, as soon all eyes turned back toward the path down from the palace where the guard from before was returning to them. This time however, he had another party following behind them.

The new individual was tall and imposing, dressed in almost robe-like garments in shades of scarlet, gold, and violet, and an ornamental golden wreath-like crown on his short, red-tinged brown hair. He paused in front of the gate for a moment, before stepping forward and opening his arms in a "come hither" gesture.

"Permit them within," he ordered as they approached, slowing in an expanded plaza on the path as the other guards moved in a practiced systematic order to fully unlock and swing the gates outward and open.

Knowing this was to be a situation of diplomacy, Loki and Feren both cast Tuffnut a pointed look, which he luckily recognized and timidly nodded, sidling up next to Cami instead. Then, they all stood up as straight as they could and approached through the gates.

"I am told you are here on account of the dragons?" the robed man asked, arms crossing as they came to a halt in front of him.

"We are here primarily in search of a kidnapped member of our family," Feren answered, drawing a well-hidden but clearly surprised rising eyebrow from the man, "but have our own concerns as well now over what has occurred here, as it could threaten our own search and has a small chance of being the result of the same people at large."

"I see," the man mused, before giving a slight introductory bow. "I am Barthel Peberona, emperor of Rome; forgive my surprise as I have never conversed with a…" he trailed off as he held a hand out to Feren questioningly.

"Macawnivore," the cat supplied. "I'm not exactly a common species; none of us are exactly normal travelers though."

"I see; very well," Peberona nodded. "I will also say I am not currently in a place of comfort with dragons being here after what happened –even my house is still being repaired, let alone the rest of the city- but I will extend the provision of doubt if you can provide answers, or a solution."

"It is a bit early to attempt saying that we could have a solution, sir," Eret said, "but our friends to the north in the safe house were attacked as well, and they had to tie up one of the dragons that raided them with the help of dragons that had been staying there at the time, and we were able to examine her."

"Dragons helped fight other dragons?"

"We are capable of knowing right versus wrong," Stormfly answered, drawing Peberona's gaze again as she bit back a growl at hearing the same phrase the second time that day. "And we know when things we don't like are necessary, like restraining another dragon that has lost their mind."

"Yes, as Stormfly said the dragons that raided Rome were not doing it of their own natural volition," Attonius affirmed. "Emperor Peberona, they were under the influence of either a disease or some form of toxin, we don't know yet which because even the dragons couldn't pick up any tells to inform us. We fear the latter because of the coincidental nature of this occurring shortly before we arrived here, and if that is so then we all face a possible serious threat to our safety."

Peberona's expression darkened somewhat as he took this in, before he gestured for them to follow him. "This sounds like a topic to discuss in more comfortable settings," he said. "Come, you must be hungry if you have been traveling, so please join me for a meal as my guests." They didn't miss his nod to the guards, a signal to watch them carefully, but did not make comment on it as they followed.

Within, the palace was even more ornate than without; priceless tapestries and ceramic works and sculptures adorned the walls and expertly carved tables and stands at every turn. Peberona led them to a large room centered by a single massive table, already laid out with food. With a single clap, several men and women rushed in, setting up new places along the table for each of the travelers to be seated at before disappearing again.

"One thing I was actually pleased about the last time some of you were in the city was that you managed to sway the public concerning their opinions on owning slaves," the emperor said, watching one of the last men to leave, "though your means of doing so I cannot say I was equally happy with. I always believed in payment and recognition for services, unlike some many of my predecessors here –trust and amiability goes so much further in maintaining rule than power and fear- but the public sways the rulings as much as or more than I do."

"Yeah, Hawken's always been a bit brazen about his beliefs," Cami said, "when he knows he can win the fight that may follow; nowadays that's nearly always too."

"Ah, he's the shape-shifter I've been told of, isn't he?"

"Yep! He's off searching for our missing family member elsewhere, since this mess is throwing us all over –Tuff, I swear if you don't eat with some civility while we're here I'll get Ruffnut to help me pound you flat into Thor's peak when we get back!"

The accused Viking looked up with a deer-in-the-headlights gaze, messy strips of chicken hanging from his mouth and the leg he was holding. He was the first one to be eating too, the rest still only just sitting down along with the emperor. With a guilty swallow, he cleared his mouth and gave a sheepish chuckle.

"Heh heh, sorry Cami. I'm a Viking though; we eat messy!"

"I'm a Viking too, but at least I have class when in the company of important people, unlike my husband apparently." She reached over and smacked him upside the head for the behavior, before giving the emperor an apologetic look.

Peberona only laughed. "I've seen worse manners from some of my own officials," he dismissed. "Though I appreciate the thought, madam. Please, enjoy."

Silence (or a relative semblance) fell for several minutes afterward as everyone partook in the provided food (even the dragons, raptors, and Feren when bowls of uncooked meats were brought out at Peberona's request; Kingsley though could go some time before eating, and so sat on the back of Eret's chair simply waiting). It was quite a layout, unsurprising for such a figurehead, but soon enough meals were polished off and attention returned to the fact that there was something that needed to be discussed still.

"So you are here on a mission of rescue, and you have reason to suspect our plight may be in some way related," Peberona spoke up, summarizing what had been shared with him thus far as he leaned back in his chair, fingers intertwining. "Can you elaborate at all in what ways I may assist, or provide information so I can understand better?"

"Certainly," Feren answered first. "I, Kingsley here, and in some ways the three raptors there, are all what we call Descendants; there are several more of us, and even beyond the deeper-than-friends familial bond we have we are in a way physically related, blood family. I explain this so that you understand why I say the kidnapped Night Fury we are searching for is family, and furthermore my nephew."

"It was a Night Fury that was kidnapped? I thought there was only one."

"Yes, until three years ago when my sister Achlema came about alongside the rest of the Descendants in to the world. She paired with the original Night Fury, our brother-in-bond Toothless, and had a litter."

"And one of the children, Tsefan, was taken about a week ago by men working for a soulless hunter named Viggo Grimborn," Eret supplied in. "Are you familiar with that name? Or perhaps, the Coalition of Hunters and Trappers he directs at least?"

"Hmm, Viggo, Viggo, Viggo…" the emperor mused, looking upward thoughtfully as he stroked his chin. "Yes, the name sounds vaguely familiar. Is he perhaps stationed northward?"

"Yes."

"Ah, that's who they were talking about then. Yes, his men I am more familiar with; I rarely go down to the markets and docks myself, but those who purchase the materials for us who live at this end of the city have brought back information and of course goods from them at times. Usually they're fur and skin traders and the like, dragon-hide leathers –I never really liked the look in the first place, mind you, so such things I kept well away from- and sometimes exotic creatures and spices. A few have recently been angering that hot-headed merchant Ralen with the metal works and wares from the Far east that they've pedaled, and some interesting herbs and exotic plants from south in Africa."

He realized he'd suddenly veered off track, and his gaze focused on his guests again as he gave an awkward cough. "You say that they –or someone they hired, perhaps?- kidnapped a Night Fury? It would be a long way from where you have traveled to get here by conventional means."

"Viggo seems to have a lot of unconventional things at his disposal," Talon replied. "He managed to clear his men out of easy reach in a matter of days after they took Tsefan, and when you're up against dragons like those we live with, that is a very difficult task."

"Then you are here searching for leads," Peberona concluded. "And you say you suspect that this league may be behind the dragons that attacked us out of the blue? What if it is a disease?"

"It could be," Stormfly answered, leaning over the table slightly, "since you can weaponize them, but unless it were within the first few hours of contracting an illness we dragons tend to give off pheromones that others can detect as a warning, and as it has been several days since this attack occurred, let alone when whatever happened to them triggered this, the Moldruffle we were able to examine ought to have been giving off those signs. Toxins don't cause the same reaction since those aren't contagious."

He eyes cast downward for a moment, scales turning a muted blue. "Were it a disease, only Spitfire, Twintail, and I here would be at risk, as draconic diseases almost never pass to other creatures, but…if it's a poison…"

"Then it's possible that anyone may be affected by it in a similar manner," Peberona finished the thought. "Most of the world is familiar with the effects of blue oleander on dragons, and how they're poisonous if we were to eat them too even, but there are no places where that grows nearby, and the dragons would have been sick, not enraged. But what else could cause such a thing?"

"That is our biggest problem, I am afraid, "Loki said. "These are not symptoms I am familiar with, and I have been around for a very long time. And with how Viggo knows we are looking for the Night Fury, this attack is terribly coincidental. He trades with societies the world over, so he most certainly has access to any number of terrible poisons and weapons and he has no qualms about using anything in his grasp to get what he wants."

He turned a hard gaze to the emperor, and made a sweeping gesture. "That could include, should he decide, forcing new conflicts between dragons and people so that he can exploit it for profit; if he has a cure or can provide 'protection', as he might put it, then making an issue out of what was once nonexistent is the surest way of knowing he can sell what he has to offer."

"So then if Viggo is causing this, then not only would he be ensuring that you are slowed down in your search, but he is spreading a message that part of your own party, or even all of you, are at risk and he may be developing opportunities for himself to not only sell within but directly exploit a vulnerability and fear within my city," Peberona said. "Outlandish as it may be, if such a theory is correct, and you can find the source of this, you will have my favor, and assured safe passage in the Roman Empire. If your suspicion is true the source may lead you to the men responsible for, if not your missing dragon directly too I assume."

"You wouldn't perhaps have a suggestion then on where to start looking?" Kingsley asked. "Like where the dragons came from, or if there have been reports of recent attacks elsewhere? Actually having somewhere to start would help greatly."

"Not personally, I'm afraid." Peberona shook his head. "But certainly amongst the traders and merchants at the dock market; if anything has happened they will have heard, and you might even find your coalition hunters if you're lucky." He turned to regard the soldiers who had stood on guard through the exchange, rather than partake alongside the people they'd escorted. "Percival and your second, lead them to the market with the announcement of our agreement here: they are under my protection for their hopeful service to us, and searching for a solution to prevent further atrocities. No dragon is to be harmed if they do not provoke the attack, any dragon."

"Yes, my liege," Percival nodded, giving a respectful bow before he and Taril turned to lead the group away once more.

"Thank you for hearing us out, and helping us, Emperor Peberona," Cami said as she stood up, giving a slight curtsy (and drawing disbelieving looks from the others, unused as they were to a Camicazi that wasn't simply brazen and blunt), and Peberona returned the gesture with a respectful half-bow.

"No, thank you for assisting me in keeping my city safe, and informed of these threats," he answered, giving a wave as they walked out. "Good luck to you all."

Unsurprisingly, the city at large was displeased with hearing that dragons overall had officially been given a pass, but hearing news simultaneously that a search for a cause, and hopeful solution, was underway seemed to pacify the populace. This development was good news for the Riders and Loki, as the walk across the city to the docks was a long one. But, unfortunately it didn't stop Stormfly from wincing at the glares and fearful looks sent her way, her scales remaining in a constant slate blue color.

"Don't take it like that, Stormfly," Cami tried to reassure her dragon. "You know what people are like; one bad seed ruins the batch, and they always remember the bad one that sticks out more than they do the good."

"Yes, but that doesn't make it feel any better," the Mood Dragon exhaled, head hanging down low. However, a ghost of a smile did appear on her face. "It's like when you and Tuff booby-trapped Spitelout's outhouse with flypapers."

"And he still hasn't forgiven you for that," Kingsley called in from the other side of the group, eliciting laughter amongst the group and lifting spirits a little.

Cami smirked. "Well, not quite what I was trying to say, but yeah, he's holding onto that over all we've done for him so it's sort of similar."

The docks were a somewhat familiar sight to the crew, though several leagues larger than any of the setups within the Archipelago. Variously sized, dark-colored warehouses dominated the damp, muddier streets, and wooden docks stretched out onto the sea in a veritable maze of salt-encrusted paths. More than two dozen ships of varying nationality were moored alongside and taking up still only a smidge of the room available, sails tied up and merchants and tradesmen pushing wagons and hauling baskets of every item imaginable between their ships and the storage buildings, or simply trading them off with other merchants right at the ships. The familiar scent of salt air wafted through the atmosphere, but tainted with fish, soaked wood and pine tar, and hints of rust and mud.

"Gee, with all this to cover, where do we even begin?" Delta wondered, wide eyes blinking rapidly as she scanned the numerous ships. "Evening's going to be closing out soon too, so we don't have time to try interviewing every ship merchant we come across either."

"Not to mention a lot of them will try to barter the information they may have," Eret muttered. "Heh, maybe my experience might pull off some help here. Attonius, ready your diplomatic skills; we may need them too." He set off down one dock, searching for familiar faces or friendly appearances to pry for info from.

He didn't get far though, and the greeting wasn't friendly for an inch.

"Well, if it isn't Eret, son of Eret," a gravelly, almost nasally voice growled out from nearby.

Eret turned to find a somewhat dangerously dressed, muscular trader leaning against the side of a crate full of ropes nearby. The man pushed himself upright and took a couple of slow, sauntering steps forward, hand on the sword at his hip. From the ship nearby, several heads turned their way and expressions darkened to match the first man upon recognizing the Sami.

"Long time no see, Eret," the short-haired brunet continued. He thumbed the Turkish vest he wore, a symbol of the pride he had in his home country. "I'd have thought you would avoid the big marinas like this now, what with your turning your back on the Coalition and all that entails."

"You know, of all the places I had to run into you it had to be here, didn't it Grimwald," Eret groused, looking back at his friends and giving them a slight nod; he expected a fight here. "Please don't tell me you think you could actually take us on in some ill-construed attempt to get even. You actually still mad about that mess too?"

"Why wouldn't I be? You got into Viggo's good graces because you cheated me out of a deal and took it for yourself, and now you've gone and spat in the man's face to boot while I'm still here in the lower ranks, unknown to him. There's aplenty to be angry about, from where I stand."

"I'm telling you, don't try anything stupid," Eret warned, hand on his dagger. "If you know I don't work for Viggo, you know who these people are."

"A load of dragon-lovers and do-goods. Yeah, Ryker was around about a few months ago to fill us in on what you all didn't give away on your own. You've got sharp weapons, body suits, but you're not perfect. And we heard you were coming too."

A dozen clicking noises echoed around them, and suddenly the group noticed the men on the ship weren't the only ones watching. Three dozen crossbows fired all at once around them and the air filled with arrows. Though they instinctively flinched, there was no way they would have avoided them all.

Eret's warning had done its job though, and instead of even a handful of darts finding their mark, scarlet flares lit up the docks as they bounced harmlessly off of nearly a dozen activated barrier fields. An awkward silence followed, before Eret sighed and pulled out his dagger, taking two steps forward and pinning Grimwald against the rope crate. The other riders spread out in response, taking defensive stances across the dock and brandishing weapons (or fangs) to their ambushers.

Loki took a different route, turning his gaze to the ship and terrifying the occupants as he appeared in a dozen places at once, the semi-solid holograms brandishing daggers of their own and corralling the ship's crew near the plank that breached the side and the dock.

"Grimwald, was it?" Attonius said in a faux-lighthearted tone, stepping up next to Eret. "You're part of the Coalition of Hunters and Trappers, I take it, so you have some knowledge of Viggo's doings. I can't thank you enough for giving us a decent excuse to interrogate you of what you know too." The minister's expression darkened like a switch flicked. "Yah have mercy for your holding of grievances for so long, but they help us. What do you know of Viggo's plans for the kidnapping of a Night Fury from Berk?"

"K-kidnapping? I don't know what you're talking about!" Grimwald gasped, leaning away from the blade at his throat. He moved to take out his own sword, but Attonius swept forward and withdrew it himself, throwing it to the side and ignoring the clatter of metal as the sword bounced dangerously close to the edge of the dock.

"Don't lie to us," he snapped. "Viggo definitely had to have spread a message of some manner, otherwise you wouldn't have attempted to shoot us down, vendetta against Eret or not. There wouldn't be a point under common sense to expose yourself or risk retaliation otherwise, unless you're simply that stupid."

"He could be," Eret interjected, earning an involuntary sneer from Grimwald.

Attonius ignored the quip, and continued. "So, what do you know?"

Grimwald stayed silent, eyes wide as he tried to think of a way out of his position. They were right, he wouldn't have tried to take them on if he hadn't heard about the provision Viggo's plan of some sorts (no details had been handed out) had given, that none of the riders were supposed to do anything without risking some sort of terrible punishment, but he shouldn't have been so blind as to think they wouldn't defend themselves or take the same advantage of a situation presented.

It wasn't until Kingsley slithered up over Eret's shoulder and stared him down, hood flaring and a deep hiss building on his tongue, that the man cracked however. "I swear I never heard of anything about Night Furies, other than Viggo hates you!" he squealed. "Messages were sent out to stand against anyone from Berk if they showed up, because of some sort of leverage he was gaining, but that was it!"

"Very well then; perhaps you know possible places where he would take the dragon," Kingsley growled, drawing startled looks that the riders had all long since gotten used to. He leaned forward, scaly snout almost touching Grimwald's nose, and used the man's clear terror of snakes to his advantage. "You're a trader, you have to know some of the hideaways to store the wares."

"If he'd hide a dragon anywhere south the only thing that might work is in the Moroccan region," Grimwald babbled. "It's our main trade stop along Africa, but we've just been trading spices north, nothing heading south!"

"Great, another less-than-promising lead," Cami huffed nearby. "We ought to check it out though; not likely Viggo would tell mere subordinates like this worm the details of anything big. Alright, Grimwelts, how about the dragon attack that happened here? You know about that?"

"Uh, that we were going to take advantage of them and offer our services to the city?" Grimwald squeaked, ignoring the deliberate mispronunciation of his name in favor of fearfully watching the cobra not an inch from his face. "If someone made that happen it wasn't my crew, I swear!"

"Well, it's likely he's being honest," one of Loki's doppelgangers spoke up as he came up out of the ship's trapdoor, drawing more looks of surprise from the men on board. "Nothing but spice jars and your usual trapper's wares in the hold, unless they've got a secret compartment with poisons that I couldn't detect –hey!"

Attention shifted to one of the crew that had leapt off the ship to the dock, and was dashing away in a seeming attempt to escape the ongoing interrogation. Shadow sprinted forward in response, preparing to run the man down, but he skidded to a halt as the hunter passed by a dock pylon and was immediately clotheslined by a thick, muscular arm.

As the would-be escapee groaned, the owner of said arm reached down and picked up the man by the back of his shirt, and stepped out into view. A thick beard and trailing mustache matched long, knotted hair, still full of color but beginning to notably gray from age and experience. As he looked up to the group, shocked stares of recognition greeted him from several of them.

"Ingavar?!" Camicazi exclaimed incredulously. "What on earth are you doing here?"

Ingavar's eyes widened, followed by a matching grin. "Well, we're a traveling tribe, Miss Terevson, so I was here on a tradin' business," he answered with a chuckle. "I might ask you the same, 'specially with your threatenin' the other merchants here."

"It's Thorston now, actually," Cami corrected, gesturing to her husband. "I married Tuffnut of Berk a couple years ago. We're here looking for a young Night Fury that the Coalition of Trappers kidnapped, and we ran into another issue too."

"Well, that explains this then," Ingavar mused, looking disdainfully at the man in his grip as he approached. "Viggo's up to his old antics eh? That's nae surprising. His lackeys here give ye anything of use?"

"A place to check, on the Moroccan coast somewhere I'm guessing, but otherwise they're being rather useless at the moment."

The Viking Chief snorted as he tossed the runaway to the dock and placed his hands on his hips. "I'm thinkin' this one might have more te tell, want to question him instead? I've got a few questions of my own te answer, some problems my crew has run into recently as well."

Tuffnut took the initiative, marching up to the man and pointing the tip of his spear at him. "Alright sir, what are you hiding?" he demanded. "Are you part of this conspiracy? Did you make the dragons sick? Is this step one of a pandemic and somehow Tsefan is needed to finish it? Why are you trying to dominate the world? Why? Where was I going with this?"

"Oh Lord, give me strength," Camicazi groaned, sliding a hand down her face. "Alright Tuff, scoot over while your sweetheart takes care of things, will you? And hush while you're at it." She marched up and pulled the trapper to his feet, glaring up into his eyes (and cursed once again her short stature in such situations). "Alright, you heard him, what do you know that your boss here doesn't?"

"He doesn't know anything!" Grimwald shouted. "Skeldi's just the local ships-hand, and –hrrk!"

He gasped for air as Eret dug the hilt of his dagger into Grimwald's gut. "Continue, if you will," the Sami said, satisfied with his silencing of the hunter.

Cami nodded, and after hearing nothing from her own captive pulled out one of her shiny Mysteel swords, letting it flash menacingly in front of the man. Skeldi spluttered for a minute, before holding up his hands in surrender. "I heard the factions from the south preparing some sort of pandemic hunt on orders from Viggo," he confessed. "There have been ships heading north and east for months now in preparation. I don't know what for, but it's supposed to be big! We were sent here to see the result of a test for it, but I don't know anything more, I swear!"

"Viggo will hear about your squealing, Skeldi," Grimwald wheezed nearby, glaring alternately between Eret and the ships-hand.

"Actually, no he won't," Percival toned, finally making himself heard as he entered from the perimeter and walked up to the captive captain. "Skeldi will get a lighter sentence because he just gave us this confession, but you are all under arrest for participation in conspiracy, disturbing in a violent manner the capital of the Roman Empire." The soldier pulled out a whistle from his pocket and blew it hard; several moments later, a flood of soldiers who had been patrolling the area appeared, swords at the ready.

"Arrest the crew of this vessel!" Percival ordered, taking Grimwald and tying off his hands as he looked to Eret. "You and your friends have your leads; good luck, and I hope you can solve this. I apologize for my attitude earlier in the day –one should know not to jump to conclusions by now- and should you return here, you will have all our support if necessary. But now, I must take care of this troublesome group as they deserve if that is alright with you."

At Eret's nod, the guard turned and began marching Grimwald away. "Farewell then," he called back over his shoulder, pointing his men toward the ship and ordering them to tie up and escort the crew away.

As he and the other soldiers carted the accused away from the docks, a silence fell on the scene for a moment before Twintail turned to regard their unexpected new acquaintance. "So you must be the Ingavar the Fearsome that we've been told about," he deduced. "My name is Twintail. Are the concerns you mentioned having to do with dragons going mad and attacking people as well, perhaps?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Ingavar confirmed, looking at the Zippleback with some surprise, "and pleasure to meet you. Seeing as I have never encountered a talking Zippleback before, I must assume some new events have transpired with Hawken and Berk since I was last up north?"

"In a manner of speaking," Twintail chuckled. "I, and Feren, Kingsley, and those three there," he gestured to the raptors, "are Descendants, semi-relatives to Hawken. Long story, wisest not to elaborate now. But, that was our confirmation that our search for our nephew is imperative."

Ingavar nodded, deciding too that it probably wasn't something he ought to press (the things he knew about that young man already, it would probably just make his head spin again) and turned. "Well, if ye walk with me back te my ship, perhaps we can help each other. I assume your nephew is the Night Fury mentioned before; I won't attempt to understand how that works, but I know the term 'family' is a might bit looser on Berk now." He chuckled at that, before growing serious again. "I didn't know Rome had experienced an attack until we docked here yesterday mornin', but similar incidents have occurred recently elsewhere on the Mediterranean and Africa. I received word that Alexandria had a visit from a feral pack of Speed Stingers and triple Strykes, and Andalucía was nearly evacuated by several Typhoomerangs a week ago. Many of the dragons didnae survive afterward, sadly, and I have begun te fear for the life of my Melania so I resolved te track this down, or at least keep her out of danger as best I could until it blew over, if it blew over."

"Wait, you mean to tell me you paired up with a dragon?" Eret asked incredulously. "Ingavar the Fearsome, bonded?"

Ingavar let out a belly laugh as he glanced back at Eret, holding his middle. "Oh come now, this from Eret, son of Eret, self-proclaimed 'finest dragon trapper alive' at one point?" he prodded. "I see you've got yerself a Changewing at yer side." He paused in his walking to regard the dragon closer. "And the biggest I've ever seen. You almost look familiar too, but I can't put a finger on it."

"Oh, that's Spitfire," Tuffnut said. "Yeah, remember when your men kidnapped Toothless and dragged him off to that fort? We broke this guy out at the same time too."

Now the light switched on in Ingavar's eyes. "Ah, that's right! I always said the world is smaller than people think; what are the odds? But to our previous topic, yes, I have a dragon. Rescued her as a youngling from hunters as well, and she's helped me keep my crew in line ever since. Though, she's had te be kept out of sight more often than I like in places like this. Ah, here we are."

They approached a massive longboat bustling with people, and several shouts of greeting went up both to the chief and his new guests. Ingavar paused and brought his fingers to his mouth, letting out a loud, piercing whistle, and an answering shriek sounded from below deck. Seconds later something erupted out of the hatch, great wings spreading and twisting expertly as a long, four-finned tail whipped out behind for balance to angle the dragon back down toward the dock.

She was an almost metallic golden-orange color, with highlights of red along the edges of her wings and tail fins, and her equally golden eyes were edged in just the slightest hint of violet, an appearance that made every Berk inhabitant's mind snap to a certain female Night Fury with equally spunky attitude and immaculate appearance.

"Y-you bonded with a Desert Wraith," Eret marveled. "I've only ever seen two in my life!"

"Yes, found her at a port in Senegal," Ingavar agreed, smiling. "Everyone, this is my right hand Melania; Melania, meet some of my old friends from Berk, and their acquaintances."

::Pleased to meet some of those I've been told so much about,:: she crooned, walking across the dock to stand next to Ingavar.

"She says it's a pleasure to meet us," Stormfly translated, and the Berkians nodded back warmly. Melania blinked in slight surprise, likely never having encountered a dragon that could speak common tongue before, but shook it off and looked up at her partner, awaiting his next move.

Ingavar turned his attention to his ship, and bellowed out, "Attention crew! We are taking on some new passengers te help us find the cause of the feral attacks, so please make room for the Vikings and, uh, Descendants of Berk."

"And Loki Asgard, friend of the Vikings," Loki quipped amusedly, and immensely enjoying the looks he received from Ingavar and several crew members.

"Loki?" Ingavar asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"As in, our old legends Loki?"

"The same. You did see the doppelganger trick earlier, right?"

"So you-you're real."

"Well, that should be obvious. I am, however, just a guardian like Hawken is, along with the rest of my family, so don't start bowing to me or referring to me as a deity or some silly mess like that. You wouldn't believe how much of a headache it was to find out how far those legends went."

Ingavar's mouth worked for a moment with no further sound escaping, before he set his jaw and looked to the ship. "Right, just another in a long line of Berkian surprises. Bitwolf, lead our guests to the quarters so they can set up, and ready for travel south. You remember Berk and company, yes?"

A young man who had just come up from below, hauling a crate of salted meat, looked up at the group and immediately his eyes snapped wide as he dropped said crate in shock.

"He-hey, Bitwolf!" Tuff greeted with an enthusiastic wave and a chuckle. "Remember me? Hey, we should catch up, great story about that uh, 'Shadow'-something dragon we fought!"

The brown-haired Viking now the focus of attention groaned. "We're bringing them on?" he complained. 'You've got to be kidding me!"

"You have your orders," Ingavar barked. "We finally have a clue to where to look with the feral mess and these good people are best equipped te handle it. Of course, if ye don't want to assist as ordered, I can always let Melania sand-blast you again. Your decision."

"Ugh, rock and a chafing place. Fine!" Bitwolf quipped, turning around and waving his hand. "Come on then, the sooner I show you where to go, the sooner this is over!"

"Don't worry," Feren chuckled as he stepped on board first, beginning to shrink in size to Ingavar and his crew's continued amazement, "you won't be bothered by us much. We won't even take up a lot of room; most of us, at least."

"Now I've seen everythin'," Ingavar muttered. "Shrinking cats and men we believed were gods; the heck did that boy do to this world?"

Eret laughed as he walked up next to him. "Yeah, not quite. Just wait until you get to watch the whole team in an all-out fight. Then you'll have seen everything."

A/N-Well, I had wanted to get this chapter out last weekend, but turns out it was a long one when I wrote it, and life happened too...oh well. Hope you enjoy; personally, I don't think it's the best one, but I needed to get this group started off on their leg of the journey, and we got to see some old friends again! Keep an eye out too, I've recently ordered the Serpents Heir, so if there are any elements of that I like they may become incorporated too.

As always, let me hear your thoughts, predictions, critiques etc. in your reviews! And hopefully sometime in the next 4 weeks I'll get the first of the next set of Book of Dragons entries out...

Until next time, HawkTooth out!