They ate well that night, feeding their fills before finally getting the well rested sleep that they deserved, and when the morning came, they were prepared. With their weapons sharpened and their dragons up and ready, they departed from the votun camp an hour later...
And for half an hour, underneath the cloudy sky, they flew through the air over the green fields of Votunheim, following the valley's river north to the village of Lakestead, which was located southwest of Votunheim's lake.
However, the weather was a bit of an issue to some of the riders as the air felt colder than yesterday. Along with that, it was still only the early morning.
"Grr… why does it have to be cold today!?" complained Snotlout who rode atop Hookfang. "Why couldn't it just be like yesterday?!"
"Eugh, tell me about it," groaned Ruffnut in agreement. "Yaks are lucky they have wool to cover themselves you know! I could really use a blanket made out of wool right now, or even just sit by a fire drinking their milk!"
"Nonono, yaks don't have wool, Ruff," Tuffnut noted to her. "You're confusing them with sheep… Or is it goats? Or is it both?"
"Maybe both!" commented Ruffnut. "But still, I want it to be warm again!"
"You could always ask Loki," replied Tuffnut. "Then again, maybe he's not the right guy to ask-"
"Guys, save it for another time!" interrupted Fishlegs, irritated. A sentence or two from the Twins was enough to annoy and anger any person, and Fishlegs was beginning to feel as such.
"And Ruff, for your information, it's still the early morning! It's bound to be cold either way!"
"Pfft, and?" she asked in a bratty tone.
...But then Arn spoke up. "I'll make it short for you two since apparently you forget so easily. Valnr's weather changes constantly. It all goes down to the regions and the seasons, and the only reason it's cold this morning is because it just happens to be so. Alright?"
"Ohh," both Twins responded in unison, as Ruffnut added on. "You could've just said so before!"
"I already did!" exclaimed Arn.
"I'm pretty sure he's reminded us five times," Astrid replied. "Now if you two would, stop bickering keep your eyes peeled. We could be closing in on the village at any moment-"
"Look! Up ahead!" spoke up Hiccup.
Everyone's heads turned forward. Up ahead they saw smoke rising from dozens of huts, and in the distance was a village. Along with that, the river they followed seemed to be getting larger and larger, until it became apparent that it was no longer a river they were flying along, but a lake.
"That must be Lakestead," Arn nodded. "We should land at the gates to make our presence known to the guards, that way we can tell them that Ragnar sent us."
"Agreed," said Hiccup. "Let's get moving, gang! Toothless, land us in front of the gates."
"Finally! My wings could use a rest," huffed Toothless.
The riders followed on Hiccup as he and Toothless flew at the front of the group, guiding them and their dragons towards the front gates of the village. It would not take long, and soon they were ready to land.
The votun guards down below however noticed the riders coming towards them. They were both armored with plate horned helmets, sleeveless scale mail chest plates, and leather leggings and boots. It was standard votun armor, but still durable.
As the group landed a few yards in front of the votun and proceeded to calmly dismount from their dragons, the two half-giant guards stepped forward to them, but did not draw their weapons or shields. They could tell the vikings were friendly, especially since an Alsworn was with them.
The group looked up at the two warriors, and they both eyed the vikings back.
"Strangers," began one of the guards. "Why do you come before the gates of Lakestead? Do you require any assistance?"
"Well- this may sound a bit strange, but we've actually come to help out Lakestead," spoke Hiccup as he stepped closer to the two guards. "We were sent here by your chieftain Ragnar. We found him south fighting the orcs with his warband, and we helped him fight them off."
"By the gods, are you serious?" asked the second warrior, to which Hiccup replied in a nod. The guard gave a chuckle. "Though one may find it hard to believe, I can see that you are telling the truth judging by that look in your eyes. Still, it looks like he's not done with the orcs yet!"
"He sure is, pal. Still fighting and kicking," randomly added Tuffnut.
"He told us that your village was going through tough times, so we decided to help. My friends and I are willing to do anything that needs to be done around here."
"You'll need to speak with the commander in charge here first... His name's Bjornar," said the second guard. "You can find him by the town's watchtower - he'll help you get started… but just as a warning, you should be wary of him. He doesn't take kindly to strangers who approach him. But as long as you behave, he won't care what you do. He'll merely want you out of his sight."
"Either way, you are welcomed into Lakestead!"
"Thanks," nodded Hiccup. "Alright gang, let's get going."
Immediately the guards stepped to the side and made way for the seven vikings and their dragons, allowing them through the gates, and upon entering, the vikings had their first taste of votun civilization.
Lakestead had one main path going through it; a large dirt road leading from the south gate to the north gate, whilst also splitting off towards the eastern gate that led out to the docks.
On both sides of the road stood votun-sized huts and structures, all of which were built spread out from one another. From what Hiccup could see, he knew there had to be no more than fifty structures in the entire village- including the watchtower to the east that had caught his eye, built atop a small hill.
Indeed, though it was a small town, it was also a busy one. And true to the word, the votun were a hard-working people.
Around them, votun warriors patrolled the town, guarding every corner, all whilst the townsfolk were hard at their labor. Some were builders and workers, some were meat butchers, some were smithies, some were lumberjacks, and some were traders and merchants. The possibilities went on.
"Wow," said Astrid, placing her hands against the sides of her waist. "When I pictured Lakestead, I did not expect it to be like this."
"And now we've walked into a town filled with half-giants. Great," spoke Snotlout. "So where do we start?"
"Well you heard the guard," replied Arn. "We must speak with the commander here. And judging by that clearly noticeable watchtower over on that hill, he must be there."
Hiccup gave a nod. "Then let's get going. The sooner we get done with this, the better. Come on."
Without question, the group continued onwards, making their way through the town towards the distant yet visible watchtower that laid ahead of them. At the same time however, they began to attract attention.
Some of the votun of whom they passed by gazed back at them - not with unfriendly or bothersome looks, but intrigued and curious expressions. The dragons had especially noticed this as well.
Toothless, who walked along with Hiccup, glanced up at him. "Why are they looking at us like that?" he asked in Dragonese.
"It's because we're the only humans here, Toothless," he responded to the Night Fury. "From what I can tell, they're not used to seeing many visitors in their lands, so it must be a surprise for them to see us here."
"Hmph, I think their commander will think otherwise, but not in a good way," Arn commented.
Hiccup gestured in agreement. "I doubt he'll be friendly. Plus- you heard what that guard said... Either way, we're almost there."
Their eyes fell upon the watchtower that they were closing in on, and at the top of the hill near the entrance of the tower, Hiccup spotted a votun warrior discussing with two of the town's workers, yet his armor seemed different from the rest of the guards.
He could only assume it was the commander.
The warrior wore no helmet. He had long black hair that stretched down his back and shoulders with braids, as well as a large beard that looked disgustingly unwashed. His armor consisted mostly of brown leather and furs, save for his platemail shoulder pads and breastplate. But then there was his weapon; a warhammer that was large enough to easily crush someone's skull with just a single hit. Of course, only if swung hard enough.
However, the most noticeable thing about him was the cloak he wore. It was a black-furred skin-rag of a rather large wolf, which to Hiccup, seemed somewhat barbaric.
As a whole, the votun warrior appeared as someone not to mess with.
Hiccup looked back at the others with an uncertain look, but said, "Let me do the talking."
As they made their way up the small hill towards the warrior, the two workers of whom he was talking to walked off, leaving his eyes gazing directly at Hiccup as both he and the others came closer to him.
The votun walked forward, and almost immediately his brows lowered into a curve.
"Grr… What is a group of seven vikings and six dragons doing in Lakestead? Do you not know who you stand before?"
"Yes," replied Hiccup calmly. "I assume you are commander Bjornar? Your guards told us you were in charge."
"Right you are," sneered the rude half-giant. "And unless you don't tell me what you're doing in my village, they may just escort you back out the same way you came in, human."
Now Hiccup's brows were lowered. Already he disliked him. "Your chieftain Ragnar sent us, half-giant. He told us that Lakestead was going through tough times, so he wanted us to help. We agreed, and that is why we are here."
"And how do you expect me to believe that, little human? For all I know, you could just be a scummy mercenary trying to get a few coins off us like greedy dwarves," he said, almost mockingly, and to this extent, Hiccup was beginning to get angry...
"We're not mercenaries," replied Arn calmly, speaking up for Hiccup. "Clearly you haven't noticed that an Alsworn viking is with them. Did you not notice my armor, or are you blind?"
Bjornar crossed his arms as he looked down at Arn, inspecting his gear.
Though he wore better made gear compared to most of the Alsworn warriors, like all of them, he nonetheless wore what they wore; a blue tunic, scalemail armor, leather boots and gloves, and grey fur atop his shoulders. It was the generic look of the tribe.
There was no denying he was an Alsworn, but the votun commander hardly cared.
"If you say so, boy," he said stubbornly, before looking back at Hiccup. "Well then, if you are indeed true to your word and have come here for a reason, then let me give you a... little test. Here's something you can helpxwith..."
"We're listening," said Hiccup, heeding the votun's words.
"The farms outside the town to the west have been lacking in production for a while now. Their crops are not growing fast enough, and they seem to be slowing down. Your first task is to go help sort this stupid problem out. Luckily for you, the farms are located quite close to one another."
"Very well," said Hiccup. "But who should we speak to when we get there? Who's in charge? What should we do?"
"That is for you to figure out. But once you do, the foreman will fill you in on the... situation," replied Bjornar. "Now that you know what to do, get out of my sight."
Hiccup huffed out a hot breath of air, irritated and annoyed with the commander's attitude. Without another response, he turned back to the others and gave them a nod before walking past them, heading down the hill in a heat with Toothless at his side, and quickly the rest of the group began to follow.
"What a brainless oaf," growled Toothless. "How could Ragnar ever allow him as a commander? He treats us as if we're dogs or something."
Hiccup shook his head with a light sigh. "I don't know, bud. But something feels off about him…"
…
True to the commander's word, the farms were located just outside of town, and were built close to one another. However, looking over the fields, Hiccup immediately noticed that something was off.
He noticed that only sections of the fields seemed to grow, whilst the rest appeared to be empty with not a single crop growing.
Ragnar was not joking when he said that his tribe was having problems with farming.
After a bit of flight and an overview of the fields, the riders found a spot to land near one of the four farming huts. For a moment they were able to catch a glance of the state of the crops more up close until something suddenly hit their nostrils. It was revolting.
"What… is that smell!?" coughed Astrid. "It smells like something is rotting."
Hiccup rose one of his brows while flapping his hand to get rid of the scent. "Could it be the crops? I mean, they don't look so good. In fact, the fields aren't even fully filled in... What is going on here-?"
"Hey, you over there! Strangers!"
A voice immediately caught everyone's attention, and as they turned to face towards the path leading out in between the fields, they saw a votun walking hastily towards them. The half-giant had long grey hair, as well as a long beard. He wore an apron, as well as a linen tunic, and a pair of leather leggings and boots. They could only assume that he worked here as one of the farmers.
"Uh… hello there!" Hiccup called out to him. "Sorry to trouble you, but do you by any chance work here?"
"Work here? I'm the foreman here! These are my farms!" the votun replied as he came to a stop, now standing in front of the vikings and their dragons. "The true question is, what business do you have here? Humans and dragons have no place here!"
"Well… you see sir, we came to help out with your farming," spoke Fishlegs. "We were sent to Lakestead by your chief Ragnar to help the village out, and then your commander sent us here to help out with the… mess."
"So, Bjornar sent you young lads and lasses?" asked the foreman, letting out a sigh. "Well, I appreciate the assistance, but I feel this mess is not for you to fix nor worry about. It's that lazy and ignorant thick-skulled fool who is to blame."
Arn rose a brow. "Wait, what? How is your commander to blame for your crops failing?"
"It has to do with our seeds," the foreman replied, shaking his head. "For as long as Lakestead has stood, merchants from the capital have sailed here to trade with us, giving us weapons, food, miscellaneous, and seeds to grow crops. Usually these seeds would last for a while in the granaries, and if they were to go bad, we'd get rid of them and purchase new ones. But that all changed three years ago when Bjornar ordered us to stop buying any seeds, because they were becoming too "expensive." Not once had he brought this up to the chieftain for whatever reason, and he even did this under his nose..."
"...Only problem? Because this happened three years ago, most of the seeds we now have WON'T SPROUT! Some of them even rot when we plant them into the ground!"
"What?" questioned Fishlegs. "Is it really that bad?"
"Does Ragnar or any of the townsfolk know about this at all?" asked Hiccup, clenching his fists.
The foreman sadly shook his head. "We're not allowed to tell anyone. He threatened to whip my farmers and I if we even said a word. But because you're a stranger, I suspect he didn't believe that I'd tell you this. He doesn't care much for them as long as they stay out of trouble or do as they're told..."
"...But as you can see, production has dropped. If this keeps up, we'll have to rely solely on hunting and food merchants, which will permanently damage our farming economy. There are dozens of people working here, and they won't have the gold to continue living in their homes, or to even buy food to feed their bellies…"
His then hand motioned towards the nearby votun farmers, who were working across the fields, putting their backs into it. What followed was a moment of silence before the foreman let out a grumbled sigh.
"This is all HIS fault! That greedy swine of a commander!"
To everyone else however, it all seemed ridiculous. Not only were they dealing with a stubborn, rude, and possibly corrupt commander, but it seemed that he was a large reason for their troubles.
"What can we do to help you out?" asked Hiccup, eager to help out the old foreman. "Surely there's something that can be done about this."
"Hmm… well, I guess there is something that you could do, but it's risky, for none of my farmers have attempted this," nodded the foreman, motioning with his hand for the others to step closer. "Listen to what I have to say."
The riders did as they were told, grouping up around the foreman as his voice lowered to a soft tone, now speaking in a low volume to them.
"There is a merchant I know who sails by every now and then from the capital to sell miscellaneous. However, she also carries crop seeds, and lots of them. Her name is Helgan. She's a good friend of mine, and luckily enough, she is around today."
"So you want us to go looking for her? Alright... but what should we tell her when we find her?" asked Astrid.
"Tell her that her old friend Torstein sent you, and then from there, you can do the rest… though speaking of which, I forgot to tell you that my name is Torstein!" he chuckled.
"Then it's only fair we give you ours," nodded Hiccup. "My name is Hiccup Haddock, chief of the Berkian Tribe. My friends here are Astrid Hofferson, Fishlegs Ingerman, Snotlout Jorgenson, Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston, and Arn of the Alsworn."
Torstein lightly bowed his head. "It's good to meet you all, young ones… Though with that aside, I'd say it's time that we get going with this."
"Agreed," said Hiccup. "But before we go, mind telling us what Helgan looks like?"
"She usually wears leather clothing, as well as a hood and a red wool cloak. She is always stationed beside her longship, you can't miss her. But be warned, Bjornar's spies are everywhere in the docks, you can't let them see you."
"In that case, I'll only bring two of my friends along," said Hiccup, turning to face the others. "Astrid, Arn, you guys are coming with me. The rest of you, stay here, and see if you help Torstein out with his fields while we're gone."
"As you say, chief," replied Fishlegs eagerly, while Snotlout and the Twins let out low grumbles and grunts.
Astrid crossed her arms, nodding her head at Hiccup. "Well... we'd better get started."