How to modernize How to Train Your Dragon

by Thor-Born

Life on Berk is hard,the life of a High School student is hard, The life of Henry or 'Hiccup' is harder then both. Called The Klutz of the town by his elders and Useless by the rest of his age Henry's doesn't think his life could get any worse. that was until He shoots down a Night Fury and unknowingly secured his fate. Modern HTTYD But not the way you know it.

25. Buried secrets, Part 2

Well it's me again, good old Jemiskneir… Relax everyone after this its back to your normal writer… that is if I can remember where I put him… somewhere in Siberia if I remember correctly or was it California?… oh well.

Anyway a little news, This is the Official end of… Act 1… is that the right term? Anyway, what's going on that after this chapter 'Thor-Born' thought it would be a good idea, to take a sort of break… Manly due to the fact that after my little Adventure he doesn't know what to do and that he wishes to... refresh this story, breath new life into it…

Sometime latter a mile up one of the large mountain.

Mankind does not have a name for the type of storm that was hitting this island harshly, for Mankind had never seen anything like this before.

To the untrained eye, or a distant one, this storm may just appear to be some sort of sand storm. But for those who were brave enough or foolish enough to experience it would tell you there is a grave distance. Whilst a Sandstorm was just, well, sand. This was something entire different. The sand might mess up your longs and hurt your skin a bit but this substance… it will literally rip you apart, molecule by molecule.

No I am not bullshiting you, I can feel it happening to me right now.

This substance, it was like glass shards only far tougher. It flew through the wind at least at a hundred mph, tearing apart anything in its path, especially flesh. And don't even think about breathing the stuff... it will destroy your lungs faster than smoking 100 Cigarettes a day and then the rest of your body even faster. The worse part of it all was what it would do to your skin after its been ripped off. Once the flesh is removed it creating a horrid burning/itching sensation that the more you scratch the worse the pain (And the sensation) gets, and the worse it gets the faster your flesh is ripped away. In other words you DON'T want to be caught in the middle of this type of storm, unless you want a very slow, VERY painful death.

But this storm, it was not one that would not occur naturally. No this storm was an example of nature itself being twisted to create something of nightmares… this entire place, Ragnarök's avgrunn. Was a result of something far beyond mortal power to create something horrible.

Its time like these I'm glad I have extremely tough skin and high pain tolerance; otherwise I would have been a walking skeleton 5 minutes into this storm.

I didn't encounter a single creature on my climb up the mountain, figures really; even Dragurs had enough sense to stay out of this sort of Storm. Sure does say waves about me don't it?

The Mountain was a hard enough climb without dealing with powerful winds and flesh tearing dust. In fact it would be the safe to say the only reason I managed to make the climb was because I'm me, anyone else would have been dead about half way through the climb... if they were lucky that is.

Don't get me wrong though, I didn't escape unscratched. My clothes, my skin, torn horribly by the strange substance. The full extent of damage to my body was unknown to me, but I did know that every second I spent out in this storm was just adding to the time I had to heal my wounds.

It took me awhile of searching a certain ridge, about halfway up the mountain but I eventually found what I was searching for. A large reinforced metal door in the side of the stone wall nearly concealed by the raging storm. If it wasn't for the fact I had my eyes glowing as bright as floodlights (Which was really beginning to strain me) I would have missed the door entirely. I approached the large metal door, the winds seem to pick up the closer I got to it but I stood strong. Once I was in reach o began to tap a large rock next to the door in a pattern similar to entering a password on a panel. Each time my finger came in contact with the rock a symbol, unlike anything buried in the history of man, formed on the rock, glowing a fiery red. Once six symbols burned furiously on the stones surface I heard the sound of the metal door opening with a loud, rusted creaky noise.

In all honesty, I wasn't surprised when the door only opened about halfway. It was after all very, very old door. This knowledge however did nothing in the way of stopping my frustration. I forced open and closed the giant metal door as I entered the secret… bunker I suppose is the correct word in this setting. There was no form of light within the Bunker itself, I had to rely on my glowing (Now flashlights like) eyes as a way to see my surroundings.

The bunker itself was about the size of a very small apartment building, in a rectangular shape. There was a bed mad of fur pushed up in the far left corner with a large chest placed at the end of it. A large wooden bookshelf (Full with a variety of jars, trinkets and contraptions) sat next to the bed. In the bottom left corner was a large pile of junk and containers, it would be safe to assume that those containers were once full of food, based on the smell. The right side of the room was covered in weapons, armours and trophies from a time long ago. Most of it had felt the wraith of time, but some of it still looked to be in good condition, usable condition. I'm not entirely sure how there was air coming in to the bunker, but I was not going to question it.

I sat down on the fur bed, removing my top and gear (Surprisingly my bag had contracted little damage, must be the material) I began to exam my upper body. I was, like I have always been, covered in scars, Old ones and new ones. But I was more interested in the newest injuries. The area in which my skin had made contact with the vicious storm had begun to look like melted plastic. I could still feel the pain of the storm ravaging my skin, even now, out of the storms reach. I touched a part of my arm that the storm had ravaged. Instantly pulling my finger away as soon as I felt a burning sensation on both areas of skin. I quickly examined my finger watching as the once clear area of skin began to melt and peel away. Interesting, painful, but interesting.

Sigh… it almost made me wish that I didn't throw away that medical supplies, it would have helped a lot for this next part. I'm just glad I had enough foresight to protect my face from the storms harshness… would be somewhat difficult to get past customs if I didn't.

It was about now my healing ability began to kick in. I watched as my skin began to heal the destroyed area of my body. The process of my healing reminded me of paper being burnt slowly in reverse. A very slow line of light began to advance over the skin, repairing the damaged skin as it went occasionally releasing small pieces of lights into the air. I groaned slightly, I hate healing wounds created through unnatural means, they would always take much longer than normal wounds, plus there was the fact that healing unnatural wounds always seem to cause me great pain and sluggishness.

I let lose a slight moan I really have stepped in it this time haven't I?

Sigh, I've been in worse… the sad thing is I'm not even kidding here. Though thinks may appear bad, I've had been tossed into worse situations… I have the scars to prove it too.

I took a moment to look over the large pile of weapons and armour parts for a moment. Those Dragurs, the ones I had fought in the forest clearing had probably freed themselves by now. There was no doubt about it that after this storm hits stealth would be no longer an option, Dragurs hundreds of them would be swarming the island, all of them out for my blood. If I went out there like this, nearly unarmed and unprotected, I would certainly be ripped to pieces.

But from the look of things, being unarmed and unprotected will be the last thing I will be.

I got up from my seat on the fur bed, my body complaining slightly but I easily ignored it. I approached the pile of weapons and armour. Examining some of the better conditioned gear, in the messy piles of metal, leathers and furs.

There were plenty of weapons that were in suitable condition, but all of them were Dark Ages level tech. Axes, swords, hammers, knives, Morning-stars, bows made of crude iron, brittle bronze and flawed steel. There was one or two Ulfberht in well condition which made me extremely pleased. Something about the before its time sword always seem to bring me joy whenever I looked upon one, especially when they were in this good of condition. Two small collapsible Crossbows were about the most advanced thing in the room. I took a moment to examine the devices. They were light, easy to reload (Didn't even need two hands to reload (But then again I was very strong)) Not as powerful as the larger brother, but that was understandable for a weapon small enough to be held in one hand.

The armour on the other hand was an entirely different story. Most of it was a wreak parts of armour sets were missing or beyond repair and there was not a complete set of armour in the entire mess…. Or was there…

I began to rip armour parts out of the pile mentally checking of certain requirements in my head. I smiled to myself upon finding a small tool set witch from the look of things was hardly used before and contained all the things I need, Lucky me… I didn't really care if I had two of the mismatched boots or something as stupid as that. This armour wasn't meant to be stylish, it was meant to get the job done.

I looked at my pile of unorganized armour pieces for a moment having a sort of mental debate on the logic behind this. The idea was stupid not crazy… and knowing me, well… let's say stupid plans can go either way.

I quickly slipped on a heavy leather top. The top was exactly my size, maybe a slightly bit bigger, but none the less it was a good fit. Hopefully the leather shirt would reduce any chafing the armour was sure to cause and keep my wounded healing skin protected from the roughness that was sure to follow.

After I was sure the leather protection was secure I began to get to work. I began to attach the armour together where I could attach parts of the armour to my body when I felt the time was right. Creating armour out of scrap armour was a slow going; attaching mismatching armour parts together was not an easy process. Sometimes there were parts that would require brute force to attach together whilst with others it required a steady patience hands. It was difficult trying to find the right mix of brute force and skill to make this armour.

At the moment in time I was trying to attach a large plate shoulder plate to a part of leather armour for my arm I found myself beyond frustrated. I tossed the two parts of the armour across the room releasing a large roar as I did so. What was the point of all this? Making armour out of scraps? To try and keep up the masquerade that I was human? It's not like anyone would really care, The Dragurs, if they had any memory of their past would have an idea on my dark secret. And you lot, the readers, it's not like you really have much say in the matter, Heck 'Thor-Born' hardly has any control over this sad excuse for a story let alone me, his flimsy, pathetic 'barriers' that reduced me to.. This, were laughable at best. Heck even in this universe I still possessed enough power to literally rip the Dragurs to pieces with my bare hands if I so wished.

I sighed heavily, no. that would not be fair… on anyone. The Dragurs, The readers and 'Thor-Born'… anyone. No one likes it when a character feels to strong, to unbeatable… they like them to feel weakness, a sense of… mortality, a concept I barely mange to grasp… something that is a very easy thing to cross… Sigh, for now I will remain as I am in this version of reality… Jemiskneir, The wander with a dark long past…

I quickly picked up the two pieces of armour and began to work on them again.

Once the armour was done I took a moment to look it over. In all honesty, it was the Frankenstein monster of armour. The armour was made up of the following; plate armour (broken upper half Chest, Left shoulder, right upper leg and right hand) Chainmail (most of my gut, upper right arm and neck) Leather (A broken part that covered part of my chest, upper left arm, lower right arm, left upper leg and lower left leg) A roman tunic painted black, leather lamellar armour (Right shoulder, Lower right leg), a pair of fur boots, a large fury glove and fur to clog up any gaps. It was in no way pretty and kind of unbalance but it would do.

The armour was also covered in tones of leather straps for yes you guessed it weapons. I grabbed a small stockpile of weapons I had put aside before creating the armour attaching them one by one. To large one sided waraxes were attached to my back, crisscrossing somewhat across my spine. Four sword holster were attached to my belt each one holding one sword two of them being Ulfberht's. Some large knives were attached all over my body (Thigh, leg, should etc.) all of them were reachable and easily accessible. The two collapsible crossbows were attached to my chest with a small supply of animation strapped on my rear along with a small pile of black powder bombs.

In other words I was armed to the teeth.

From the sounds of things outside the storm had stopped, or at least subsided into something far more suitable for travel. I quickly turned my attention to my bag grabbing them and slugging them over my shoulder. I was about to leave when I became aware of a faint glowing.

I turned my attention towards the light source, noticing that it was coming from the chest at the end of the bed the top of it had been moved ever so slightly, perhaps from me throwing the armour... I approached the chest. It had been beautiful in its time but so many years of being in the dark had taken its toll on it. I opened the chest my eye glowing with joy upon seeing the three items inside.

The first was a scroll, undamaged by aging. It was still bond by a seal; one that I would dare not open for it was not for my eyes to see. The next item was a beautiful custom Viking helmet that completely covered the wearers' head only revealing they eyes. The top part of the helmet was pretty normal, metal, large intimidating horns. The bottom half however was devised of leather and held together by metal. The back part, that would reach down to the wearers neck was made of leather folds. Whilst the front was a hard leather shell that covered the face. Extremely Intimidating if worn properly.

The final item nearly made me jump with joy. It was red glowing sword. The sword itself was beautiful, far more stunning then anything a modern master weapons smith could make. The blade itself seemed to be made of some sort of red crystal that appeared to be slightly see through and glowed a bright red. The blade was longer then a short sword, but was clearly meant to be held in only one hand. The blade was covered in golden symbols much like the ones that were on the rock outside the bunker, other symbols; forgotten languages from around the world were also present upon the blade glowing surface. The hilt of the blade appeared to have been made of bones and horns of creature long since gone. Prehistoric dragons, from the time of the giants. There bones and horns carved in a way that could only be described as perfect, forming a star like hilt with a long handle, which was covered In black scale-like leather. I grabbed the handle of the sword the first thing I noticed was how light the sword was, it was almost like I was holding nothing. But even with its light nature I could tell it was strong enough to cut clear through a solid steel I-beam like a hot knife through butter. And the power, even after all these years locked in the darkness the blade still radiated energy. I took a moment to examine the symbols, specifically the large forgotten symbols that covered the blades centre near the hilt. A langrage I was very familiar with. A word caught my attention out of the whole blade itself, the lettering the ancient langrage was far larger and better done then the others.

"Makaisk, Blazing spirit." I said the sword getting a little warmer in my hand.

I quickly grabbed the sword sheathe and slipped the weapon inside strapping it to my back. Though the blade was the most powerful weapon I had had in my possession, it would need time to regain its strength. Though this blade was powerful, I knew that the only way to regain its true, true strength was to find the other one… its twin in creation... and not even the sun would know where that one could be… I do however have a few ideas…

I then proceeded to put on the helmet the new addition to my armour seemed to be welcomed by the rest of it easily slipping on and strapping in to the rest of it. I knew with my glowing eyes the helmet would appear far more intimidating but to add that little bit of effect I added a slight darker afterglow to them, creating an almost powerful feel behind them… to bad there was no mirrors….

I made my way over to the giant metal door, kicking it straight of its support. The large door slamming down on the floor with an echoing thud.

What? It's not like it needs to be there anymore… besides I had a much better use for it.

Upon exiting the bunker I took a moment to look down the extremely steep hill at the barren landscape. The island was deprived of all life, itself a barren wasteland of dead trees and black ash like dirt. The earth was torn to pieces, as if several dozen earthquakes had struck the island tearing it to pieces. Black obsidian spikes stuck out of the earth there twisted form dotting the land scape. The sky was a stormy mess, the clouds just as black and twisted as the land scape but possessed a red, evil glow to it. At the base of the mountain stood the tattered horrid remains of a settlement that had long ago fallen into disrepair. The old settlement looked to be heavily hit by the Obsidian like towers that dotted the landscape. The giant spikes seem to rip through the village. From my guess they were the main reason the village was in that condition, the others being time and the storms. Even from all the way from the top of the mountain I could make out the movement of hundreds of beings within the village moving, I could feel their collective anger, their hate… Dragurs… hundreds if not thousands of them… and not just humans ones to… larger masses far too big to be Simply mutated Dragurs moved amongst the crowd.. Dragons, that had felt a similar fate as the humans…

This was where I needed to go…

And how I was going to get there well… if you haven't figured it out yet you're about to see…

A tiny bit latter.

Have you ever done something you immediately regret afterwards? Like almost instantly? But it was far too late to back out or stop? Well I was having one of those moments right now. Now it wasn't exactly rare I found myself in this sort of situation, and more often or not they would end with me in unimaginable amounts of pain or perhaps even worse. In this situation I think the latter might be the case.

Oks so let's set a picture here so you guys can understand. Right now I'm heading down the mountain side towards the destroyed settlement -well it was more of a cliff then a mountain side, it was horrifyingly steep- On an old busted up metal door that was on the verge of falling apart at any moment, holding on for dear life to rusted chains that were attached to the door with equally rusted giant nails. Said chains were also my only form of steering this… door, and well… it was like trying to control a hormonal bull Hornapede, practically impossible.

The horrid sound of metal scraping against stone was tearing away at my ear drums ripping them apart like the metal door was tearing apart the earth. And if that wasn't enough I could hear the sounds of hundreds if not thousands of Dragurs roaring and screaming from the bottom of the hill, my destination. Well at least the general area, to actually get to where I need to get to I will have to fight my way through the army of undead Vikings, Dragons and verities of other horrid creatures.

Hmm, shouldn't be much different from New Year eve Christmas shopping on Berk.

Anyway back to the plot…

Me and the door speed down the mountain, said door creating a shower of sparks that in the darken surroundings would be visible for miles around. There was no doubt that the Dragurs would miss me, even if they were missing eyes at the time.

Suddenly and nearly unexpectedly (A few seconds before the door was launched I noticed A large wedge-like rock in my path) my door and I were launched into the air… and straight into the only giant statue that seem to remain standing (looked kind of like a big meat head I know actually) And well… let's just say this island doesn't have any giant stone statues left. The Dragurs were… less than pleased about that…

One of the Dragon Dragurs; A Hideous Zippleback (Its two heads still clear even with its horrid mutilated and mutated body) still capable of flight charge me. Wasn't much to say about the dragon, its wings were slightly torn even for something that has been undead for nearly 1000 years. All colour in the dragons scales had been worn away and had been replaced with a greyish white colour. Its body was ridden with ripped patches of scales revealing bone and muscle. Parts of it body had begun to swell up with muscle and bone (Especially along its back and left neck) creating horrid mountains that ran along its back, greatly increasing its size. Its left neck was leaking gas and the right jaw was hanging loss creating chaotic showers of sparks. The Zippleback roared at me as it charged through the air like a, well, speeding Dragon.

As the dragon rapidly approached I pulled withal my might on the Chains holding the door, causing said door to flip so the beaten bottom end of my make shift sled was facing towards the charging beast. The Metal door (Or should is say sled?) crashed into the giant beast, the sound of breaking bones and tearing flesh echoed through the skies as we clashed. To force of the collusion was enough to cause me to lose my grip upon the metal chains that held me in place. Losing my only way to hold on to my… sled I was tossed away from the crash falling almost helplessly towards the earth. As I fell the sound and force from an explosion shock the sky behind me, my best guess as to what it was, was The ZippleBack Dragur exploding, something that could actually happen to normal Zipplebacks on rare occasions…But can't think of that now, need to focus on the fall.

I was about 30 to 40 feet high in the sky now right over what looks like use to be a rather large house, possible a Chiefs home (the front part of it having collapsed under unknown circumstances), An army of Dragurs surrounding the damaged building. The fall didn't bug me, no I have walked away from worse than this, nor did landing in the house. No it was the army of Dragurs that was really putting me off. Sure I have had my fair share of fights with Dragurs, but never with this… many… Dragurs were not normally… Pack creatures, they preferred solitary and it wasn't often you would find this many Dragurs in one place in this time and age without them ripping each other to pieces. The Multiple levels of mutations also worried me, the settlement was crawling with Dragurs from the hulking monstrous sizes to normal (Well normal for Vikings, very large for today's modern world) size Dragurs.

Can't focus on that now, going to crash in a second got to focus on that.

My body crashed through the building, the wood snapping and cracking as easily as Styrofoam under my weight. I fell through two floors of wood until finally I hit the ground floor creating a large creator of broken wood and stone in the middle of the damaged building burying myself under a small pile of derby. Instead of digging my way out I simply waited in my pile of rubble for well, you will see.

I could feel the presence of at least half a dozen Dragurs surrounding my little pile, I couldn't see them directly but I could tell they were there… searching for life that they could end… in the same way that their lives were taken… Too bad they won't be getting that sort of satisfaction any time soon, I honestly quite like not being an undead killing machine, I prefer to be a living one in all honesty.

With all my strength I broke out of the pile of broken wood sending derby flying everywhere knocking over Dragurs and causing confusion and chaos. In the mist of this chaos I quickly grabbed the two axes from my back and began to hack away at any of the Dragurs still standing around me (Which was about 3), I kept swinging the two smaller axes until the three separate monster laid on the floor in a messy pile of body parts and guts, my weapons were slightly… dissolved from the Dragurs blood – if you can call it that- A mater that could soon become a problem…

I turned my attention toward the collapsed frontal area of the building where a group between the size of a large mob and a small army of Dragurs staring at me, snarling and roaring. I stared down the monsters there horrid hateful eyes locked with my furious flaming eyes. I quickly twirled my right axe as I faced down my opponents, messing around with my weapons had become a habit I have developed over the years during fights… not really sure when it started but I do know I have gotten very good at doing it.

As I stared down the small army of Dragurs a single thought began to seep into my mind; What did the kids say these days when they were going to take a big risk? Some sort of Acronym I think… Yolo? That sounds right…. I think… Sigh, screw this modern junk, in my opinion the old ways are the best ways.

"ELDR OK MÁTTR!" I roared as I leapt into the air and into the mist of the Dragur army ready to cause absolute carnage.

To best describe the way I fight is to compare it to a furious hurricane. Strong, powerful, fast, swift and destroys anything in its path, also like a Hurricane I have a habit of spinning around whilst I fight, kind of my signature thing really…. To most people my fighting style would appear chaotic, crazed or perhaps even unprofessional I would tell you that is not the case. Whatever move I made, every attack I preformed was thought of beforehand my style of attack changing, altering my fighting style to adapt to my opponents strengths, defences, weakness and their own movements. In more simple turns during the chaos of my attack I would work out the opponents strength and weakness and begin to cut my way through both of them at once switching weapons around if I had to, which was often.

It was a complex and difficult way to fight, one that was nearly impossible to master In fact I did not know a single person other than myself who is even able of performing this sort of style of fighting, after all No one has the…. Time and circumstance I have had to perfect it.

As I span around switching form Axes, to swords, to knives, to Crossbow (Did that one rarely because I had to reload with each attack) I made sure of three things; one; that every attack did something that was not considered wasteful, two; that I was keeping aware of my surroundings, and three; I was NOT using Makaisk no matter how tempting it was to pull out the powerful blade. And oh was it tempting!

With each attack I made I would cripple, decapitate or stun 3 or 4 Dragurs with each attack. With no way to permanently kill a Dragur I had to settle for the next best thing; simply getting them of my case. But with each Dragur I managed to take down, a new stronger one would take its place and like the previous one will try to rip me to pieces be it by weapon, its bare hand or its teeth theses… things, they weren't just out for my blood, oh no they were out for everything else as well. Fighting them of wasn't exactly something I could keep up either, not because I was getting tired… well partly (The armour misbalanced and weight was straining) most of the problem behind my struggle to keep up the fight was the fact that the Dragurs weapons and blood were slowly melting away my weapons and armour, the attacks I could block but the blood.. that's a different problem… It didn't help that there numbers were growing as well; at this rate I would be swarmed and overwhelmed in a matter of minutes.

All the time in the world.

You see I had been cutting a path slowly towards a large damaged tower-like building (that looked a lot like giant stables stacked upon stables) a building that somehow in its poor condition still managed to stay standing in its brittle state (Which I had no idea as to how it was possible)… but I did know that it won't be standing for much longer .

As soon as I had an opening I tossed the axe in my right hand (It was more damaged then the other) straight and one of the supporting beams of the larger building. The sudden loss of one of its only functioning supports was too much for the shaky building to handle. The Building began to rapidly collapse, failing directly towards me and the large group of Dragurs, parts of it splintering and shattering as it fell splitting of either crushing or badly damaging Dragurs as it did so. I rolled out of the way barely avoiding the collapsing building, one of pieces of wood smacking me in the back of the helmet as I rolled away. The blow wasn't enough to be fatal nor did it stun me but the blow but the attack was enough to cause my vision to become shaky.

"Ok, so maybe I should have thought that out a little more than I did…" I mutter to myself as I stood up nearly falling back over as I did.

It took a few seconds but my vision returned to normal I found myself facing a small army of Dragurs Approaching towards me slowly. Taking a small chance to take a glimpse behind me I was glad to find that the 'street' behind me has been blocked preventing Dragurs from swarming me from all sides which meant in theory all I would need to do is focus on those Dragurs in front of me… and it also gave me zero escape routes.

"Well Jemiskneir, look on the bright side, it can only get worse from here on out." I mutter to myself as I stare down the Dragur army pulling out one of my swords to replace my now missing most likely destroyed axe.

A sudden horrific roar, like a broken jackhammer was attacking a sick lion. The type of the sound that makes you want to rip out your own ears. I tried to find the source of the sound; in all honesty it wasn't hard to miss. A humongous mass of scales and muscle running through the crowd tossing aside anything in its path, derby, buildings, Dragurs… a chill ran down my spine when the monstrous mass tossed aside a rather large looking Dragur Monstrous nightmare like it was a tiny ragdoll. as the horrific beast grew closer and closer the more my idea on what the creatures was became apparent to me. The thing was… or use to be Rumblehorn, a large one… even before its fate. The front half of the beast was at least twice the size of a normal RumbleHorn thanks to the Dragur caused mutations. Its front part was covered in misplaced plates like that of a beetle but had been moved around to try and protect the new pile of mass atop the dragon with several crude looking ones seem to have formed as well. Its head was grotesque and horrible disfigured, its left eye was forced shut by a humongous growth atop it a horrid mess of rotten flesh and what looked like giant zits… The right side of its jaw was ripped of revealing part of its jaw; bits of flesh still attached to each side of the top and bottom half of the jaw. The two horns on its head had grown to a size that matched its previous head size, parts of it covered in rotten flesh. Its front legs were nearly twice as big as its hind legs which appeared to be quite normal other than the ripped flesh… the tail seem to suffer some mutation two but it wasn't as bad as the frontal area.

The monstrous beast paused for a moment a single blood red slit stared me down; I could feel its rage and anger far surpassing all the other Dragurs around me. I watched as the Rumblehorn quickly snapped up a Dragur next to it with its humongous mouth, snapping the Dragur in half, blood a drool splattering everywhere. The Rumblehorn Quickly dragged its frontal claws in the ground letting lose a horrid below as it did so before charging straight at me Sketching and roaring as it ran, its horns ready to go straight through me.

For a moment I considered simply rolling out of the way, you know like a normal person but a sudden more interesting idea came to mind. I quickly grabbed about 5 small balls from a small leather bag on my belt. The balls were remarkably similar to the smoke bombs ninjas use, but this one had a nasty twist to it. Instead of making smoke they would make a small explosion once hitting something with enough force that would make a small explosion whilst sending small sharp pieces of shrapnel flying. One of these Black powder explosives were affective enough to stun a human perhaps even injury badly but it would take at least 3 to kill most humans (Perhaps someone like Stoick could survive…). I tossed the 5 BPE straight into the Rumblehorns face causing the massive beast to become temporarily stunned, halting in its horrid charge to try and regain its senses. I ran towards the Rumblehorn a sword in my right hand and the now detached bag of BPE's in the other. Once I was close enough I broke off into a slide my armour creating a huge trail of sparks as I moved forwards, sliding under the beast giant body. Once I was under the best belly I ran my sword straight through the dragons gut, right below the rib cage, where it armour was weakest.

My sword created a large hole within the Rumblehorns lower half. Just as quickly as I created the hole in the beast I placed the bag of BPE's inside the beast body just as the might monstrosity began to regain its senses. Running out of time I quickly reached inside the bag (Which was now settled inside the beast body) Grabbing ahold of about four or five BPE with my hand.

If I mess this up… well at least I will take a few of these shits down in the progress.

I squeezed the BPE's as tightly as I could, feeling the small black balls shattering under my strength. In under a second I pulled my arm out of dragon's body, somewhat fateful there was a slight delay before the explosion went off. I began to roll out to the side of the beast only to be forced out of the way by a powerful shockwave. My body was flung across the street my amour scraping across the ground. Eventually my body came to a halt about… a meter two or three meters away from the Where I had started from.

My vision had become blurred and ringing dominating all other sounds. Even though my body felt numb I could tell that the worse my body received were a few new cuts and bruises that would only take a few moments to heal.

I stood up slowly, shaking slightly as I did so. For a moment I sat in a knelling position a hand to my head to try and regain my weaken senses. I shook my head somewhat violently as I tried to clear my vision and head. When my vision cleared I took a few seconds to scan my surroundings. The entire area was covered in Rumblehorn along with any Dragur that was unlucky enough to be too close to said dragon. I could help but note that if my body had rolled another few centimeters I would have been impaled by the humongous horn of the Rumblehorn.

But right now my attention was focused on something else. A path, carved by the Rumblehorn, And from the look of things it led straight where I needed to go.

Sigh, what a fucken coincidence!

I got up, my legs slightly shaky to begin with but they soon stabilized, and in a mere moment I was sprinting down the path knocking over any Dragur that tried to get in my way. My legs moved with the speed of the wind as I ran through the human Settlement, avoiding obstacles and Dragurs as I ran. Occasionally losing weapons as I took down a Dragur or two (I lost my other axe pulling of another collapsing tower, this time it was more of a watch tower then a building) but I spent most of my run trying to avoid the Dragurs (I even spent some time doing some… ahh what do the kids call it.. Pakeoring? (Whatever it is just correct me in a review or something however this works) across the broken buildings to escape a large group of Dragurs who tore apart the buildings as they tried to get me). As I ran my vision fell upon what appeared to be a building built atop of a small platform high-up upon a small mountain on the out skirts of town. For a moment I thought I could make out the faint silhouette of an elderly person with a long stick. I stared at the figure for a moment a hundred thoughts burning through my head like wild fire.

The most dominating one being: Who in blazes is that?

But before I could get a better view of the figure it simply disappeared from my vision. I paused for a moment trying to figure out how that had occurred, Teleportation? Invisibility? An illusion? Perhaps a mix of all of the above? Why was I even focusing on this in the first place?

I decided the best cause of action was to simply ignore it. After all it's not like that's going to be somewhat important latter on down the line.

It took a few minutes of fighting and running but eventually my final location was in sight with only a long badly damaged bridge between me and it. For its time this bridge would have been a feat of engineering nearly unseen I the corner of the world, and would have been quite an impressive feat of construction that many historians would be curious about how such a primitive group of people were able to create such a large and long bridge up this high and under these conditions, let alone the fact that it has managed to stand this long.

No time to think about that now got an army of Dragurs chasing me down wanting to rip me to pieces to worry about.

I ran down the bridge, my heavy foot steeps cracking and splintering the wood as I ran. Perhaps if the bridge was still in good condition my footsteps alone would not be tarring apart the bridge as I ran… huh, idea.

I came to a halt on the other side of the bridge peering back at the huge horde of Dragurs racing towards me; there numbers seem to have doubled since I had last checked. For once I was actually pleased the number of Dragurs present, in this case it was more the merrier and hopefully the messier.

As the Dragurs ran towards me Howling and screeching I did a few calculations in my head and… ahh what's the point? Maths and me just don't mix… kinda like writing and me.

I closed my eyes blocking out the vision of the Dragurs preparing to run me down. Sound suddenly became faint, as If it was miles away. My breathing became slow and steady and seem to become the dominating sound I could hear. Within this state of mind I saw the world in a different light. I saw it in its most purest state; power. I could see the energy of nature, of the world, Flow around me like water, surging and swelling. The world around me was shrouded in a Pale storm of energy that consumed everything around me, it dominated the sky, the ground, the buildings even the Dragurs themselves. A web of Blackish purple streaked through the sky surging in a way that reminded me way too much of veins pumping blood. A black haze surrounded the swarm of Dragurs, but from the look of things it did not touch them… only hover… around them… interesting… My body glowed with a powerful and warming Golden Aura that not only coursed through me, but the air that surrounded me. I took a moment to stare at my left fist. Streams of red energy seem to flow around my fist, moving like dozens of Slivering snakes. Suddenly, the red flowing snakes struck into my hand, becoming absorbed by the brilliant glowing light. Pain shot up my entire left arm setting the limb ablaze with pain. I let lose a muffled hiss of pain as my Arm muscles began to alter, began to amplified in both power and strength, but as the limb grew stronger, so did the pain. I needed to release the energy my arm was building up, and quickly.

I opened my eyes allowing myself to return to the normal world; well as normal as Ragnarök's avgrunn can get… The Dragurs have managed to gain far more ground then I had thought they would. My left arm didn't look any different but I could certainly feel the limb becoming stronger with every passing moment and the pain increasing to match the strength.

I stared down the Dragurs as they made their mad rush towards me. I had to time this perfectly otherwise… Oh shit you got to be kidding me!

At the back of the group I saw several Dragurs being launched of the bridge by a huge charging mass, a very familiar giant mass.

The Rumblehorn, its skin ripped and chunks of it was missing but it was the same damn monster I blew up a few minutes ago.

Ok, now would probably be the best time to act before that thing rips me to shreds.

I clenched my left fist tightly as I rose it up in the air. With one final glams at my ever advancing foes I brought down my fist upon the broken bridge. For a second everything went silent, other than the thunderous clap of my fist hitting the wood And the world seem to slow down. Suddenly A wave of red Energy surged out of my fist creating a powerful circle of Energy that expanded outwards forming a shockwave of power. The shockwave sent a jolt throughout my body, knocking away and lose pieces of my armor. The Shockwave surged out wards at tremendous speed hitting the Dragurs and everything else head on. The force was enough to send most of the smaller Dragur flying, whilst causing some of the larger ones to stagger backwards. The shockwave however soon evaporated into the air once it got a certain distance away from me.

If that was all that was going to happen I would have been a goner, luckily it wasn't.

The entire bridge shock under the force of my punch. The already weaken bridge supports crumbling under the tremendous force, and the whole thing… well a bridge without its supports is about as useful as Fish that can't swim. The entire bridge began to collapse, parts of it shattering as it collided with other broken parts. Those few Dragurs that had managed to remain on the Bridge fell with the collapsing structure.

I stood there watching, Emotionless in my intense stare at the carnage happening before me. The Dragurs screeched and roared as they fell into the Canyon that the Bridge once covered, amongst them the RumbleHorn, a foe that had nearly gored me twice… something very few creatures have ever managed to do….

…And like all those before it, will not get a third chance…

I walked away, the rocks I once stood on crumbling away into the canyon as I left. I had a mission to deal with, and nothing was going to stop me now.

I approached my destination with calm slow steps, With the Bridge down I felt that I had bought enough time for some leisure, not much, but hopefully some.

The area I was in now resembled that to a gladiator pit mixed with a prison. It was a large circle that was dug into the giant stone pillar it sat upon. A web of rusted and broken metal chains… well what was left of it… was suspended over the broken pit. Several large metal doors, held down by wood bars, covered the stone walls of the pit. Most of them were in disrepair or broken… all of them, but one. Out of all the doors present this one was by far the most… sturdiest. The metal was not made out of your average iron or steel, but of a metal I have not seen before. Instead of wooden logs there were several huge metal bars blocking the door, and there were far more of them than on any of the other doors. One thing was for sure there was defiantly something behind those doors that someone didn't want getting out…

…Or getting in…

I walked towards the entrance of the hole in the ground that was used for blood sport. The pulley system that would have once been state of the art in its time had become broken and decayed, sealing the two iron bar doors at the front of the pit shut. The first metal door was rusted and bent in an awkward way, like something had ran into it with full force, why anyone would want to go into this blood pit is beyond me. With little effort I ripped the giant iron bar door of its Hinge's (I can't really think of any other way to describe them) And tossed it over my head into the open ocean behind me, the metal door practically collapsing in my hands as I did so. Once the door was out of my way I moved on to the next one which was in a better shape than its predecessor, but in the end it fell just as easily as the first.

I walked across the pit floor directly towards the only standing door. With each step I felt my feet getting heavier and heavier, I don't like being in these… places… I have had my fair share of bad memories in battle pits… memories that are burned deep into my mind…

Upon reaching the large secure door I quickly scanned the giant metal door. No leaver… even if there was the pulley system would have been broken years ago… nowhere to insert the key… screw this, I'm losing writing space… hard/fun way it is.

Using my strength and might I began to rip the metal door apart, ripping of the supports and throwing the giant metal bars away (They were pretty heavy mind you). Once all the metal bars were gone I force open the giant metal doors, whatever the metal was it was stronger than iron, but was lighter then steel… strange…

It took some time but eventually the door was nothing but scrap metal littering the floor of the death pit. I walked inside the place to find only a large plain stone walled room….

WAIT-WHAT!?

I opened and closed my eyes; rubbing them slightly… no this isn't right… Where is it? It's meant to be here… But… wait a second… my eyes sudden fell on a small grove on the back wall.

I approached the small grove in hopes to get a better look at the strange anomaly. These Walls were made of Solid rock, far too tough for.. The prisoners…. to damage let alone escape. Upon inspecting the hole I noticed strange markings on the inside of it, very familiar markings… dangerously familiar markings. Without even thinking twice I pulled out the key: a small Cylinder about the size of a beer can but nearly twice as long, the Key was covered in similar markings as the one inside. With slight hesitation I slid the circular device into the slot.

For a moment nothing happened, until suddenly the whole thing began to glow a bright green (With the slightest tint of blue) Several unseen markings(The same ones seen on the key and the hole) began to cover the room in a spectacular light show… to bad something so pretty held such a dark secret…

As the lights died down I suddenly became aware of a strange sound… the sound of rocks scraping against rock. I turned my attention to the source of the sound, where the keyhole once was there was several stone blocks folding away from each other slowly revealing a staircase leading downwards, a faint glow at the bottom of them.

I couldn't help but grin slightly upon seeing this. It's about time things finally go my way.

Suddenly my scar, the one on my check, began to burn intensely so much so that I flinched horrible holding the scar and screaming in pain. Such a powerful surge of dark energy… even for this place…

My body felt as if it was on fire, as the pain coursed through me like a flooding river. Though the pain did not stop I managed to… resist the pain and turn around, I could make out something standing at the entrance of the cell, but before I could make it out a horrid bent, busted, and flesh covered two sided battle axe flew straight into my right shoulder, the Axe cutting clean through the already broken armor and lodging itself into my skin. My body screamed in pain as black steam seemed to radiate from my wound. I could feel the skin around the wound begin to slowly die from the slow but steady moving corruption. I ripped the axe out of my wound taking a moment to inspect the weapon. The whole thing ranked of dark energy, the putrid smell of the dark substance made me want to vomit.

I tossed the weapon away… only to watch it spin of course from where I had tossed it and fly like a boomerang straight into the waiting hand of…

A Dragur… a female one, atop of a humongous mutated Nadder. At the female Dragurs side were 3 other dragons (Nightmare, Zipplebakc and gronkle) each with a rider on them (Except the zippleback who had two identical looking Dragurs on its heads) the dragons been as equally mutated as the Nadder. But it was not the Dragons I was worried about, it was there riders. All of them, they radiated Dark energy, dark magic… Their eyes glowed a far brighter color than any other Dragur, their collective stare so intense it burned into my very soul… or whatever it was I had… huh, I almost know how it feels when I stare at people now.. Almost.

And behind them, thousands of Dragurs both human and dragon alike surrounding the entire arena all of them waiting patiently for something…

"Huh, that's a lot of them, what you do? Empty the entire island of monsters just for me? I'm touched really." I said sarcastically as I stared at the entire army of monsters.

"The only monster around here is you, worm." The Female atop the Nadder spoke in harsh Old-Norse. In all honesty I was not expecting that… Dragurs don't talk, not even in Norse.

"I remember you, we all remember you… you're the reason where like this… you're the reason the gates of Valhalla will never open to any of us… now we will take our revenge out on you, make our suffering your suffering, our pain yours… and once you recover… once you repair that body of yours will do it all over again!" the female lead Dragur cried as it twirled its axe around, grinning evilly at its sadistic desire.

"Well if you do remember me… you should know one thing…" I said pulling Makaisk out of it sheath, upon seeing the weapon many of the Dragurs backed off, a rare fear within their dead eyes. "That I won't go down without a fight." I said feeling the blade hum to life at my touch.

The lead Dragur hissed for a moment upon seeing Makaisk, but soon gained its composure. "Very well if you wish to play it that way, Jemiskneir, Then so be it. Destroy him!" The Female Leader yelled at her troopers. The entire Dragur army surged forwards in a mad rush to kill me each of them clawing and tearing at each other to try and get to me first.

I let lose a sad sigh, holding the blade in my hand a bit more tighter. Makaisk suddenly sprang to life, energy flowing through it like a river. The blade began to grower hotter and hotter, until all of a sudden the blade itself as utterly engulfed in red fire, almost to the point someone would claim the blade was made of fire itself. Yet the fire did not burn or singe my skin.

"I wish there was another way to end this… and perhaps if I had gotten more time… but it looks like there is no other way, old friend." I said to no one in particular. Without another word I leapt at then enemy, lifting my sword high above my head ready to strike down the first of the many foes…

Well story to cut my little fight short but I have well expelled my limit in terms of word boundaries.

But look on the bright side next time it will be 'Thor-Born' again along with Hiccup, Toothless and their pals…

Anyway if you excuse me, I have to go have a little chat with a certain 'Captain' about something…

Jemiskneir signing out for hopefully the last time.