(A/N: I have decided to write a characterization overhaul of Mikekolt thanks to a well beloved movie called The Prince of Egypt, by fixing some plotholes in the other stories where he appeared as a young boy to Drayko earlier before this story. He is not by any means a clone Eret due to the fact that he is apart of this trapping division of the Dragon Hunters. He is my own character that I ask that you do not call him a Gary Stu because that is the main reason why I'm transforming him into a better protagonist. I have nothing more to say except that it may take a awhile to get into the main story right here, as these events happened a long time ago; Enjoy)
This... is Owl Gut Island, where the rays of the sun bath this massive and wet heaping rock while it looks back at the moon of dusk. The fearsome and farsighted warriors who were wise stood before the trials that meant nothing to them in the tests of time, in the present it was here that the Dragons roam the skies and come to this very foundation of the earth to seek out the need of company in the form of the Vikings who call this place home found at the southwestern seas; very far away from the Isle of Berk as it was much warmer and the heavy rainfalls that come down had little pressure, even the water was hot like the chocolate that these half-brawny warriors drink in even the most weathered times like these. They were but locked and loaded with traps for their filthy nemesis: the Dragon Marauders who would come to bring this paradise to ruin like the ripples of dripping blood from their swords and axes, being what remained of their most barbaric and evil enemies that they have ever faced. There was just a few more things to explain about this place before what it was like is shown
This village which rested on the garlic grass whom the Dragons love to snuggle and roll themselves around in relied more on heavy defense as it's been here for most of several centuries, the wars that were fought here on this foundation of earth always stood tall; but never has it ever kept it looking new to the ones who set foot on this island. For every sun that has it's rays of dawn bathing her people, and for every moon that rises above the horizon to have it's rays of dusk peaking into the soothingly calm streets; the houses that were built to defend the against any kind of raids that would threaten them were made of not one but several wood types to be exact. These consist of the following:
1: Ebony
2: African Blackwood
3: Great Dark Oak
4: Dark Black Chestnut
5: Dark Maple
These houses were also twin layered with dark pagus brown and charcoal black bricks, which were melded strongly together with motar from the most massive and largest mudpits found in the heavy rain that comes every now and then to soak this rock. Hell they even reinforced their homes with Volcanripper Metal plating that they use for their weapons for maximum protection; always got to be ready for when those Dragon Marauders start raiding their home. There were massive walls built to defend and keep their attackers out of their home, having a line of merlons and embrasures on both sides as well as watchtowers with ballistas to help attack the ships with their explosive bolts that they've loaded their weapons with; it may be destructive but it did a well done job in putting a early end to the raids. The large docks were always open to anyone who would visit this place such as the case of their Celtic traveler known as Merchant Axel with his believe or not weapons and souvenirs he's brought back from his favorite places. The walls of course were made of the same wood with the same bricks as they want to keep their home protected at all times
Unlike that traitorous Johann he was truly a trader who would never assassinate other traders nor steal their stories before sinking their ships, really he was honest and much nicer as he explored wherever he visited and took whatever he found was valuable so that his customers may enjoy what they were given. The additions here at this island featured several different flowing vertical flags hoisted from beams and banners hoisted from crossbars as they depicted their official crest: It was a Indian bangal rock owl with the tufts of it's great horned eurasian eagle cousin and striking short eared patterns on it's face, with darker feathers on it's wings while it's talons were spread out; gripping a pair of double edged swords. It's underbelly went smoothly under while it's thighs were given an different color to make sure they don't blend in with each other. Colors were a dark velvet sacramento green with some peacock blue, dark crimson red like the darkblood of the Dragons, flaxen to dijon yellow, dunmore cream tan and dark eggplant purple; and why not add some reflective solar flares to it as well? They were a blended jade green, teal blue, sunrise orange and lipstick red color that sprouted upwards like a ring of flames
Along with some thick timberlands and rocky mountainous cliffs, there were vast cavern hangars with feeding stations, raid prevention, grooming stations, watertowers, windmills that looked like dual sided Tailfins, disposal deposits and of course their very own militia known as the Owl Gut Guardians; seeking out only to prevent Dragons from attacking, not slaughter them in cold blood which the same could be said for about everyone else who would attack. Looking at the Isle of Berk right there...!
The warriors were still menacingly tall and half-brawny nevertheless as they were just as formidable as they were tactical. Their hairstyles was always long and spiked downwards, with some dreadlock extensions and their beards were long; more of the same to be exact as their mustaches were both thicker and longer, going down halfway from their beards that flowed about in the wind along with each movement they made
The helmets they wore happened to be open faced Italian barbute helmets with curved edges on the sides and back like an German sallet helmet with some leather plating on the side; they featured dog collar spikes studded along the rim with two thick lines on top going down to the front, also featuring leather plating as well. There was even a facemask that was angled like a diagonally downwards pointed arrow with two thin edges with leather edges in the middle of course; with an big and distinctive greater sooty beak that was meant for stabbing if any of their enemies were too close for them to attack, like being grappled for instance. Finally, the eyes of the facemask were large enough to see through as they had chainmail connected within; having soft cushions inside for comfort, not to mention they had a black nickel shine with the Tribe's crest depicted on the upper sides of the helmets
What they happened to wear are seamless and vertically narrow diamond patterned tunics that went down past their waists and towards the top of their knees, with the v-necks going down to the halfway point of their chests; with dual beaked shoulder guards adoring retractable blades. They wore long seude vests with very little furriness shown and wore animal leather ribbed pants, with an thick belt adorned with pyramid shaped spikes and blades as the buckle depicted their crest. Their arms were wrapped with thick bracket like bandages as both ended with a studded strap, having some long merlon and embrasure patterned sleeves along the edges of their tunics; with metallic vambraces that went up to their elbows. They had black and dark taupe brown weathered boots with polar bear fur, strapped on together with studded straps as the outsoles were tipped upwards, having armor plating for kicking power. Finally the weapons they always carried on themselves would either be: an double edged sword, twin bladed axe, dual pronged spear, sharp and blunt mace with the head of an morning star or even a full auto crossbow as a little projectile in case someone tried to take them out from a distance
But what was most horrifying about their enemies was that they were only pretending to be fearsome and deadly killing machines who roam in the desert, they mostly acted like the main lethal weapons division to the Dragon Hunters and that was just saying something; but whenever they would do with the weapons dropped upon death is that they would collect them and use it for their dummies. This was known as an Castlekroftservkhall's greatest weapon should they be disarmed, it was known no other as Weapon Adaption: Finding an weapon wherever they go and using it against their enemies before they discard it, throwing it against a group of their enemies. The family has a history of using this tactic as they had an habit of disarming their enemies of their weapons to use them against them, even when they were all young lads and lasses; they they didn't have too much muscle but that's just their family after all. Should be mentioned that they've been training for quite sometime with various weapons like a sword, axe, club, javelin, sling and shield; so there's that excuse to use weapons that they had no training with
As it was here that the Tribe on this heaping wet rock that was about the size of Europe, but still small enough to be apart of the Archipelago's map was led by the one and only Gortarius the Farsighted; this is what he looked like:
Chief Gortarius, better known formally as Gort the Farsighted and simply Chief Gort was quite like Dagur: He wasn't as big as other Chieftains but he was respected and among the more intelligent and levelheaded of them, he never bothered to show himself as the meeting with the late Drago Bludvist since his gut instincts told him that it was a death sentence and he turned out to be right in the end when the sole survivor happened to be Stoick the Vast. Although he was tall and half-brawny so there's that. He wore furry trimmed bracers on his half-brawny arms with full colored shoulder guards of his Tribe's crest and an helmet adorned with bharal horns, with an facemask for battle of course. He wore an polar bear vest with an dark chocolate and armored buffalo tunic, sporting fur trimmed greaves for his legs and Volcanripper Metal boots. He wore an thick black studded belt around himself and had an full beard, his dark red hair covering his ears on the sides and hanging out. Finally, he was armed with an Sword on his back
But let's return to the time that before the Tribe was like that and before Drayko showed them that the Dragons were not what they believed them to be. Let us return to the time where the Tribe wasn't like as it was now, they may not have killed Dragons unlike the Hooligans and only drove them away from their Village; but they were always prepared to deal with such raids like these. The actual killing was meant for the Dragon Marauders themselves. Here let's look into the past of our main protagonist as although he looked like he had a good life in contrast to what was once the man known as Hiccup, that is just a total understatement as his life is full of trials for him to conquer
Our story begins here in a memory from the past before Drayko showed them what the Dragons truly were behind their scaly faces, as it was a little while before that moment arrived and came. Mikekolt had made his discovery about his family past, and while he desperately hoped that he was not a descendant of the Dragon Marauders being that he had some bad vibes in what he was bout to discover; he found out that was not the case at all but what he found instead, was something that he just can't bring himself to accept, and be happy about
HTTYD
As a teenager Mikekolt had an choppy plissken hairstyle that was highly lined up diagonally upwards in the front, spiked forwards as well as on the sides and back like his mullet; although on each of the second row behind the first, they were given an texture like sharp and deadly quill like barbs that were pointy just by touching them. Feeling nice to stroke and touch by an human hand. He wore an dark mocha and golden brown double layered leather v-neck tunic above his raven and midnight black tunic with an thick, diagonally ribbed downward arrow pattern that looked like wide bandages with an dark thunder and nickel grey filling within the cracks; having a black cut in one collar. He wore tibia length black crocodile and stingray leather shorts that had two thick straps around his thighs along with chains dangling from the sides of where the pockets would be. He wore an pair of dual beaked shoulder guards with the diagonally forward slanted blades facing away from his head
He wore arm wrappings up to his upper biceps and wore vambraces along with some black ribbed fighting gloves to break someone's face if they tried to take him down, but also due to having Raynaud's Disease that makes the blood vessels in his fingers and feet retract thanks to the coldness caused by feeling the air outside or feeling stressed out. He dark espresso and mountain oak brown whitetail deer vest over his tunic that featured both double rider jacket flaps and bronze and dark gold buttons engraved with a Deathstalker's face that had black filling in the cracks, featuring two belts studded to the vest on the upper body and two skinnering belts wrapped around his lower body underneath. Although he did decide put in some knotwork rearing steeds embroidered on the front sides, with some wolf/dog paw prints with the metacarpal pads being shaped like an inverted trapezoid; and the digital pads sharply slanting towards the sides before going upwards like claws. He wore his knee length battleskirt of an kilt around his waist that split diagonally upwards towards the front, having the details of photographed treebark patterns from great dark oak trees; with the color palette of mostly: dark mink, mud oak brown and steel bronze brown. dark olive wool green with spider black; photographed treebark patterns from great dark oak trees. He wore greaves on his knees with leg wrappings behind his armored knees. Finally, he wore a pair of jackal sandals (A/N: This detail will be explained later on, I give you my word for it)
He laying on his bed and was just so lost about what he found about being a descendant of the Dragon Trappers, wondering if any of the Dragons that he encounters will be merciful for him just for being a descendant of an Tribe who traps their species just for the benefit of their Chief. His door was open and he heard the sound of footsteps coming up to his room, it turned out to be his father Roachkolt who was named that way due to being that he considered a Viking who just wouldn't die; like a real roach and because it sounds cool
"Father... tell me this is not real" Mikekolt asked him as he came to sit lay down with him
"Yes, it's true that our descendants are not the kind of heroes that you believed they are nor are they the average warriors because being normal is boring. However, I may be an Dragon Trapper but I am not loyal to my employers; our history is known for their deceptive motives as they're only in it for themselves. They want to learn about the weaknesses of the Dragons they capture so that they can counter them when they bond with each other, they also learn about the traps they use so that they can disable them quickly and make sure that they're re-purposed to be used against their attackers. But the best that we Trappers learn from our superiors over us is how to master tracking down our victims by using our sight, scent and instincts; if anyone tries to call us out then we kill them and escape because we have the skills we needed. This is a tradition that has been going on and we've been passing down loads of this information so that we may become the very Castlekroftservkhalls that we are, it's alright to be ashamed of being apart of a Tribe that we were never truly loyal to; because we've got some allies there who know and do not say a word about our actions. Do you now understand why I was teaching you all of these skills before you found out?" Roachkolt asked him as his Whispering Death hatchling slithered over to his son, wrapping his quill adorned serpentine body around him soothingly without harming the boy
"Yes but I also haven't forgotten about what you once told me about this island we live in and my best present that I could ever have" Mikekolt recalled from his childhood memory, stroking Rainserviper as it cooed before lightly scratching it's skills on his exposed skin
(Flashback to a Young Mikekolt and his Father)
"This very Island from where we stand upon in the far southern regions of the volcanic Flaming Deathlands of the Barbaric Archipelago was forged by Freyr, the God of Earth himself as he and his armored golden mane boar; Gulinbursti allowed the travelers who first settled here to produce many multiple offsprings of the livestock that roam our Village as well as the untamed forests here below us. Out there in this region of the Archipelago, the legend and story tells that there is an Island where the monstrous Red Death whom the Dragons refer to as the Bane of Queens resides; anyone who rebels and offers nothing but resistance are murdered by being consumed by the fearsome devil herself. It has been far too long since they have lived under fear because of her actions against them, you need not to worry for such beast as one day; there will be a hero who will rise up against her and would end her reign not just to end the raids by the Dragons consumed by fear of her, but to end their suffering that they have stomached for the last time"
A young Mikekolt and his father were standing out at the cliff overlooking the morning sunset of the dawn. His choppy black hair was flowing in the wind, wearing an warm dark black heart red diamond pattern tunic; with dark olive green pants and polar bear skin boots with studded straps to have them fastened and kept on. His dark chocolate brown seude vest featured rearing horses with dog paws, while his face had very few freckles on him; but he was still tall enough to reach the top of his father's belt. He could pale at the sight of having to fight the Bane of Queens that his father mentioned, but he could only chuckle at his son; Roachkolt was the kind of father who would always take his son to places like when they visited a Triple Styke's nest and even when they visited that Whispering Death cavern. But they'll be explained later as he placed a hand on his son's shoulder
"Fear not as you're not fighting this tyrant who calls herself a queen, you're going to be among the people who'll thrive more than the Hairy Hooligans from the final battle of this war against her. I ask for the raids to stop so that the Vikings and Dragons would fight no more, there was no greater prize out there; then to bond with one and feel both of our blood in our veins tie together, all to form chains and shackles of our bonds that will never be broken. Not even if we go our separate ways after years since we've tamed these beasts. Know this my son, you will be our Champion and for when the time comes for our Chief to depart from this world; you'll lead us in the Slayer of Red Death's footsteps. You are our second hope for when the first dies and fades away in the shadows of the underworld below"
Mikekolt nodded to make his father understand what he knew what he was saying, nodding back at him as they both went down from the cliff before walking through their forest; that was when his father tapped him on the back twice after softly rubbing him. "You may go now Mikevenchenzo, do what your heart leads you to down the path; since I know you'll give us courage just as we would give to them should they encounter any disgusting eel that crosses their paths; just don't tell the Hooligans about what I mentioned to you, they're bound to use that fear against them if they ever come back here again to renew the alliance"
"Dragons don't fear anything, not even eels because if they saw one slithering towards them; they'll just turn their face to them and say: I ain't afraid of you so bite me!, before they torch them alive with their fire" Mikekolt objected, knowing full well that no Dragon that he's ever encountered would be scared of a rubber tasting snake that comes from the water
"Now that's what I liked to hear from my boy, speaking the real truth while others speak the misconceptions about them; and of course they don't fear them because those eels are toxic to them. Eel Pox to be exact, effects even humans and worst of all is that the final ingredient to the cure to such thing is a Bloodvein Eel; when they're the ones who caused this infection in the first place" Roachkolt chuckled and explained why he believed him
"That's stupid, why make the root of the disease the final ingredient; there's always something wrong with this Archipelago" Mikekolt didn't like the logic behind the Eel Pox and just wished that there was something else to replace the last ingredient
"By the way, Trader Axel's gonna be coming in today in the afternoon; let's have this surprise be one that's gonna make you overjoyed to death..." Roachkolt hinted at the end as he and his loving wife Herlkatlore planned quite the surprise for their favorite son
Roachkolt's son then ran off into the forest while he went off to await for whenever his wife is ready down by the docks of the village. Mikekolt on the other hand loved being alone in the timberlands as he found his favorite clearing spot and enjoyed drawing whatever came to his mind. Especially a sword he wanted to build when he grows up as it was going to be a very long retractable sword that can engulf itself in flames, when he showed this to his father; he wanted him to go forth on this idea since it was time that he got himself an signature weapon of his own. Although he knew that their Blacksmith was going to give a sword of his own right on his birthday, he figured he could use a secondary one in case he was disarmed from his original weapon. This is what the concept of the flaming sword looked like:
It was to have the head of a Triple Stryke who adorned the diagonal curved slanted horns of a Zippleback with very dark and saturated narrow emerald gemstone eyes, with three spikes on the handle that were curved forwards on both sides as well as having three wavy lines; that smoothly went downwards and forwards onto both the left to right sides of the blade, that alone was just the beginning as he's just waiting to be inspired by more sights that he sees as he's always traveling with his father to other places. He's written down an entire large piece of paper in his bedroom that was laid across in front of his double mattress bed, which had the basic ideas of what the prototype sword would look like
Now then about the visit to the cavern: this was a moment in his childhood at the Whispering Caribbean which was more of an rocky swamp like island, it was when he and his father entered a little open and expansive cavern with the earth shaking below them; emerging from the rocks happened to be exactly the Dragon of the same name as it started to chase him due to it's curiosity about the young boy. Unfortunately he thought he was trying to kill him and ran off, trying to get away from him
Roachkolt intervened and told him that this hatchling was just curious about him, although he would go nowhere near him after he chased him throughout the entire cave; his father figured that he would need to spend some time alone with the hatchling, to which he was right as eventually Mikekolt was no longer afraid. The hours passed by as the Whispering Death hatchling would coil around him without trying to hurt him in anyway with his quills, before trying to shower him in saliva; at least he was being gentle unlike the bullies who targeted him. It even tried to shower him in saliva regardless of having no tongue of it's own, it continued to do so as they played games and hung out together before eventually his father returned and decided that it was time to go back; Mikekolt hoped he would see him again soon. Unknown to him however it would happen as he would turn out to be quite the champion, just like how Hiccup once was before his father whom he hated would forcibly take him back to where he belonged to; he just wish he didn't have to end up like that at all, well at least he'll be on his own once he's a adult since he can his own rules and choose his own destiny about how he lives and dies
As mentioned before he was of course targeted by bullies, for they didn't understand why his father was such a maverick and why he treated his son like a prince or even just like Joseph who wore an coat that was made from many colored threads that were used to make such a beautiful piece of clothing; and when children don't understand things like Mikekolt's father, they can be cruel to the flesh and bad to the bone. But he needed no such bullies as he was never seen too often for his solace was within the forest drawing designs he was inspired from. A whitetail fawn always came around and always felt comfortable in it's presence, sitting right by his side and enjoying the time he spent drawing inspired designs like the artist that he was. As the hours passed into the morning, his father arrived at the entrance and called out to him with the fawn calmly walking off but not before he licked Mikekolt's face one last time before leaving him to be alone with his father
"Mikevenchenzo, to me" Roachkolt called out to him by nickname
"You called, Father?" He came up to him
"Tell me that you did not encounter that cold hearted bully" He lightly demanded as Mikekolt shook his head once, he's been absent for a long while; it was almost as if he was exiled from the Tribe to which unknown to him, he was indeed exiled. "If you ever come across him again, the next time you see him; leave his body in cold blood. Your mother's made you some breakfast fit for a prince like you, now let's get a move on and make this birthday one to remember by; the surprise awaits your return"
Mikekolt nodded and walked with his father out of the forest, going down the checkered road as they made their way back to their household; passing by the Chief who nodded as their leader knew what today was, but also knew whatever business he was tending to was done for now. Climbing up the steps of the Main Hall and entering inside as he tended to his freetime, not having too many duties as much as Stoick the Vast; he also had a daughter who was named Marva, which she was out back practicing with her weapon skills
What happened next explains the presence of the Whispering Death that Mikekolt has right now: Roachkolt brought his son home to the Castlekroftservkhall House and surprised him with an old friend that he came to embrace in a hug without hesitation, it just so happened to be his favorite hatchling whom he named Rainserviper. Being named that way because of the many things about his Tribe, as he loved the rain and serpents as well as the way that he acted like a venomous viper against anyone who would make him upset; hurt his boy that he loved more than life itself and try to ruin his happiness before they meet both his fangs, quills and flames. Afterwards they both enjoyed the breakfast and the cake was delicious of course
All throughout the entire day on this special occasion, they had fun in the sun as the hatchling played in the skies while he played in the timberlands; all while his bullies continued to express extreme envy against Mikekolt as they just scoffed at him and returned back to hanging out at their own house. They were simply jealous for the fact that a Dragon like that acted friendly when it should've been biting his head off since the only things they know is killing. As a matter of fact they spent more time playing together than they did at the Whispering Caribbean
When nightfall approached soon and enjoyed the very last moments they had together along with most of the cake as the last large piece was kept for tomorrow just for him, they were both placed in bed by Roachkolt and Herkatlore as she left before his father stayed by his side; just as he was losing consciousness with Rainserviper coiling all around his body: "Sweet Dreams..." He spoke calmly before leaving his bedroom, closing the door as they both fell asleep. Ready for the next day tomorrow as they'll be ready for even more fun
Roachkolt really and truly did love his son even now as for every action he did and for everything he's committed against his Tribe, he would rather have no one but his family with him and not be alone with anybody that he just can't trust; especially now that they have an Dragon apart of their family. But if there was one thing he hoped for it was that the Chief of the Hairy Hooligans to be more merciful to his son, because even he questioned the lethally toxic relationship between the two as a bleeding rift that cannot be healed for everyone whose come to know the horrible things he's done
Roachkolt silently asked himself what kind of a monster would want to treat their son that way, and why would they not realize what they've become as he went downstairs to take a seat in his favorite chair; feeling the need to read before heading off to bed beforehand as he's had quite the day and it was well worth all of the happiness today. His son will become a teenager soon and that's something that he just can't wait to see what happens next, even as he's going through some struggle when the world around him changes; he and his mother's always there for him. He'll always be planning their next trip as it's a tradition for them to explore as both a father and son
While the Castlekroftservkhall family thrived on throughout the Tribe thanks to their ways in life, the same could not be established for the bullies as there were at least four of them as he could tell. Known to be extremely envious and have their own bullshit reasons why they bully his son, but it was the main reason that told them everything: Mikekolt was always getting something that they could and would never had, he had an natural talent for a lot of things such as drawing and sword fighting; but his own downfalls came at the form of being horrible at sailing and not so good at using a bow and arrow, as well as being rather unimpressed by his own skills. This did not stop them from considering him to be a very inferior Viking, believing that he will succeed them in the later years when he grows up; hoping that they will just be taken by the Dragon Marauders that always raid to attack their island
Nevertheless they've come to adopt the Castlekroftservkhall's Weapon Adaption tactic as taking weapons lying about in the environment to use to their advantage, before discarding whatever they used after they've served their purpose was their main highlight about him. If only the teens of Berk were this merciful to Hiccup back on Berk like they were to Mikekolt, regardless their hope for the Marauders to take him during one of their raids was just out of jealousy; they would curse themselves for their own actions afterwards when the events did happen with the alliance of the Dragon Hunters
For now as a glimpse of Mikekolt Castlekroftservkhall's past was seen, they present day can be viewed many months later when Red Death was slain by Drayko and the Behwearft of his brother Toothless has concluded. Now the former was in a state of acting like a gruff and mature man who is always directly to the point, mostly silent and rarely speaks when he needs to in front new people he meets. We return to the present day as Roachkolt concludes on why his son shouldn't be ashamed to be a Dragon Trapper, as they were never honest to their employers; and the fact that they joined forces to learn whatever they needed to learn, just so they can desert them afterwards
(Flashback of a Young Mikekolt and his Father Ends)
"Gort knows our secret and if Drayko comes then I hope the people can see what the Dragons really are behind their scaly faces, but now back to our conversation of ours. No matter whatever Tribe you've descended from and no matter how they would act should they know where you came from, just remember this what I've told you: We were always in it for ourselves to get what we wanted to learn from about the Trappers, and our loyalty to them is NOT and neither will it ever be the truth nor reality; everything that I have taught you will serve you well in whatever road you take, do not forget this" Roachkolt ran his hand through his son's choppy layered hair before he got up, being bathed on the morning rays of the sun before heading for the doorway
"Thanks father, there any place we're going to explore today?" He asked
"Your mother's been hearing so much about your new Lair of Rainserviper's home, I know it may not look like much at the moment but I know you'll be adding in some new features in the future. Hope you bring your jacket of many scales that your mother and I made just for you, it will look great to the other travelers should we come by them" Mikekolt nodded and went off downstairs, leaving the house as he took his jacket that both his parents made for him before heading to the docks
The Jacket of Many Scales which was made from several multicolored threads and scales alike featured an reflective metallic rainbow shine to it's vegas gold stripe on the edges, with the decagon shaped diagonal edges on the shoulders and back of the head being beaked down like an falcon's beak; having twin layered flaps of an double rider jacket and an twin layered cut-in-one collar all around the neck, flowing elusively and brilliantly. The back having this design: A sun of heraldry with the face of an sleeping infant whose half was shrouded in a darker shade than the other, while an large sparrow extended it's talons out to the sides as two large raven shaped feathers fell from the sides and crossed each other on the bottom along with an pair of cutlass swords that faced away from each other where the bottom of the D-Guards close to touching each other; the blades going upwards to the other sides while the sparrow was flying above the ground in the sky. There was an smooth and rocky ground going across with an wavy sea on bottom, having eight rearing steeds facing the sparrow on both sides; being lined up in such way in front of some very rocky mountains in the background. There were some detailed seahorses in the water with some smooth blending colors to go along with the jacket itself: It was a lipstick red to amethyst purple that faded smoothly to a maya blue and tsucan sun color like the morning sky, the ground was an dark chocolate ground with the mountains in the background being a lighter manchester tan color; and the prussian sea having olympic to powder blue pointed edges, with some palm trees added in front of the mountains for some extra detail. Finally, there was an written message for the son of Roachkolt and Herkatlore: "Know that we are always and forever yours should you need our guidance, with love from Roachkolt and Herkatlore Castlekroftservkhall"
As Rainserviper was also coming with them, he stood by his childhood friend and stepped on board their father's Dragon Trapper yacht as he would call it because of his ancestral relationship with them; with his friend's parents stepping on board before sailing off from the island and out to the seas towards the east of the Archipelago. That was all there really was to be seen in this memory of the past, nothing more as although this was the very chapter that showed you the memory of the past; this is not were the story begins. It is the next chapter that will begin the very adventure of both Mikekolt, Rainserviper and his Dragons that he comes to bond with and form a team out of; this is not only the beginning of an new journey
It's the beginning of the end for the threat that has begun in the form of a rising new threat who is out for the blood of Drayko and Toothless after the death of Drago Bludvist, one that will see the Dragon Hunter Wars turn the tides for the favor of the Knights of the Dragon Riders...
Now as I mentioned before Mikekolt now as a Brooklyn accent of his own, although it's the terms that he uses so he doesn't actually sound like he's from NYC in the first place; I decided that this would be a smart move in case you don't like people with accents like these, at least it's not a stereotypical New Jersey accent where everybody's a asshole. Here's the terms below you:
take it there: noisy argument of a altercation
grill: stare
brick: cold outside
to front: act like you have what you don't really have in reality
spaz: violent and confrontational
thirsty: acting desperate (overly desperate is thirstbucket)
na' mean: you understand what I'm saying
deadass: very seriously