IHHS non habeo. IHHS est intelectualis proprietas Rift-Raftis.
"Let sleeping dogs lie."
The biggest downside to pranking is that it's a type of fun that always comes at the expense of someone else. Since the twins will always be around to remind me how it feels to be on the other side of a prank, and since I doubt I'll be pranking again anytime soon, and since this is the first time I've been on this side, I figured I should enjoy the moment while I can.
That said, the wide-eyed, pale-white, Gods-fearing expressions of the Meatheads might just be the funniest thing I've seen all year. Especially Thuggory, who wasn't very nice to me ten years ago. It was actually pretty hard to get myself under control until I remembered to make sure they were swimming to the island. Dagur and his dragon, on the other hand, were still on their backs, tears running down both their cheeks as they leaned on each other with no intention of stopping anytime soon. Taking a few deep breaths, I stepped over to the edge of the ship and skimmed the harbor. I could easily make out the four heads bobbing up and down in a mad swim to the island, somehow managing to scream whenever they gasped for breath.
Wait, four?
Just as I started trying to put names to the faces of the Vikings that had jumped ship, the entire vessel shook and the loud crack of a harshly opened trapdoor thundered out from behind me.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THOR IS GOING ON UP HERE?! Did Mjolnir itself strike our deck?!"
A man with an eye patch and a peg leg burst onto the deck, face as red as lava and voice almost louder than my dad's. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the black dragon (who was still laughing just as hard as before) on his ship.
With his arrival, there was a new fear scent in the air, though this one wasn't nearly as strong as those still lingering from the other Meatheads.
Not seeing any reason not to, I went ahead and answered him. "Kind of," I shrugged.
Dagur must have liked that response, because he lost what little footing he'd finally found in his last few attempts to stand up and he started wheezing in between laughs.
The Meathead chief just stood there, mouth gaping, looking back and forth among the three of us and not at all trying to keep up the "chiefly" look as he did. After a few seconds, his mouth slowly closed and he began shaking his head. All signs of nervousness left him as he put his hands on his hips and let out a heavy sigh.
"Damn," he said, still shaking his head. "I thought I dodged Thuggory's bludgeon this mornin'."
This didn't help the two Berserkers calm down in the slightest. Nor did the look on his face when I said "You probably did." He stood there for the longest time with the most confused look I've ever seen on anyone. And I've seen a lot of confused people.
After a few more seconds of looking back and forth between me and the still-hysterical pair of Berserkers, he threw his hands in the air. "Alright, I give up. What's goin' on here?"
I responded as casually as I could. "A prank."
Dagur had recovered just enough to add his own two-coppers. "And the best damn one I've ever pulled, at that!"
The chief raised an eyebrow at the answer. "So that's what an extinct dragon, a madman, and a dead Viking are doin' on my ship? Pranking?"
The neutral expression I'd put on just to mess with him quickly grew into a smile. "Yeah, that sounds about right."
He let out another exhausted sigh before he continued. "Well if that's all, would you mind tellin' me where my men are?"
I shrugged again. "Still swimming to shore. You can see for yourself if you want." I pointed out to the beach of the island to show him where to look.
Dagur finally pulled himself together as Mogadon stepped over to the railing, steadying himself on his still-recovering dragon. "You don't have to do that! Just listen! You can still-" he nearly burst into another fit of laughter "-hear them screaming!" Aaaand more laughter. At least he didn't take as long to recover this time. "I don't think I've ever heard Vikings with voices higher than those! And that's including my sister!"
The Meathead chief seemed to think for a while, raising a hand to stroke his beard as he looked at his men. He turned to us after reaching some conclusion. "Are you boys familiar with the laws surroundin' gathers?"
"Yes." We both glanced at each other after the simultaneous response.
I decided to explain once Dagur started laughing again. "That's why we waited till just the right moment." A big lurch from the back of the ship caused everyone to jump, and a glance at the anchor rope gave me a good idea. "As you can see," I said, pointing at it, "you weren't technically 'at the island' before our 'attack'. Oh, and we didn't hurt anybody. Or the ship, for that matter."
Mogadon's eyebrows rose higher and higher as I explained, before falling once I finished. He thought for a long time, looking at the anchor rope and then the island, until eventually he chuckled and shook his head. "I hope you both realize I'll be havin' a long talk with your fathers about this."
Dagur just shrugged while I brought my hand behind my neck. "Yeah, I think you would've been doing that anyway. At least now you'll have something less, uh, serious to talk about."
The chief chuckled again and looked at the island. "I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but I got a feelin' you're right. Looks like the Meatheads weren't the only ones to go through some strange things this fall." His features lost their amusement as he put on a 'down to business' look that I've seen plenty of times on my own dad. "Now! Since you boys decided to time your 'prank' so well, I think it's only fair you help me tie up the ship before we all head ashore."
I looked at Dagur, who just shrugged again as he turned to his Skrill – no, his dragon; I can't get into that habit.
Dagur looked like he was about to gesture something before he slapped his own forehead with an open palm. "Oh, that's right! Uh, you should head back to the ship now."
Luckily, Mogadon didn't notice anything weird about his dragon understanding him.
When his dragon tilted his head, Dagur explained. "There's a rule banning non-host Vikings from bringing weapons onto the island."
One shrug, nod, and take-off later, and I was once again in a party of three, though this time I wasn't very happy about it.
My hands almost slipped from the rope I was tying when Dagur called his dragon a weapon. After all this, I hadn't been expecting him to say something so demeaning, so insulting, so… human. Hopefully I could hide how much that'd just killed my mood. "So he's a weapon now, is he?" I asked as I got to work again. I think managed to mask my anger in a grunt by pulling hard on my rope.
Dagur turned to me with (thank the Gods) indignation. "No! Well, not exactly, but I'm sure that's what the other tribes would say. Berserker history and all that. The last thing I'd want to do is give them a legal standing on top of everything else."
I had sighed in relief before he even finished.
Mogadon chuckled as he tied down many ropes in one strong yank. "We would, I'll give you that. I was hopin' you'd forget."
Dagur scoffed as he did the same. "Please! I always make sure my village stays out of it when I have fun. Unless it's at their expense, of course."
Mogadon grunted as he finished the knot, then moved on to the next set of ropes. "I take it that beast is part of your crew, then?"
"Duh."
"And what part of my letter made you think I'd allow such a thing?"
Dagur smiled and pulled out a piece of parchment.
The ropes almost slipped from my hands again when I realized it was the letter in question, but a quick moment of thought stifled my surprise. In hindsight, it was obvious; he must have been expecting this.
Dagur started reading from it in a voice that was obviously meant to mimic Mogadon's. "You said, and I quote: 'Since this will only be a half-gather, I request that the head count on each ship be no greater than five', end quote. The head count on our ship is no greater than five. LiKe Alvin used to say: 'I obey the letter of the law, if not the spirit!'"
Mogadon sighed. "Is this how it's always goin' to be with you two?"
"Pretty much." We both looked at each other after the second synchronized answer.
Mogadon chuckled. "And I don't suppose either of you would care to explain a few things about yourselves while we have the time?"
Exchanging another glance, we seemed to settle on the same answer without saying a word. Maybe this is what it's like for the twins.
Dagur gestured at me, so I finished tying the last of my own ropes and shook my head. "I think this time we will wait until the other tribes get here before going over everything. We, uh, just kind of finished doing that an hour ago, and it'd probably be easier, for everyone, if we did."
"Not even the short version, huh?" the Chief of the Meatheads asked. He sighed when I shook my head.
Funny how we will be giving him the 'short version', just not yet.
Mogadon tied the final set of ropes and threw out the gangplank, immediately marching down to the dock so he could secure the ship completely. He motioned for us to walk ahead of him when we were all off the ship. I saw his grin a second too late – the second I passed him.
"Well if that's how it is," he started in a light, jovial, and daring tone that somehow sounded natural on him, "why don't you tell me more about this 'prank' of yours?"
