The sun from above began glowing brighter in the sky, shining down upon the vanguard as the march through the snow continued. This time however, the viking Brann was at their side.
After gathering with the vanguard, Hiccup had a brief yet important discussion with Beldrak, Olof, and Valara in regards to Brann and his village, for the legendary viking had offered them hospitality, and invited them all to visit his home for food and shelter.
Although Beldrak wanted to reach Dalgard as soon as possible, the dwarven thane knew that the lives of their soldiers were more important; dwarf, elf, and human alike. As such, he and the captains spoke amongst one another, and eventually came to a unanimous decision, which was to follow Brann back to his village.
With the riders and their dragons back on foot with the vanguard, they had the chance to tell the three commanders as to what had happened during their scouting.
"...And then after we took down the goblins, a troll just dropped down from the ridge above us, and nearly slammed us into the dirt," said Heather, glancing back at the commanders who stood nearby. "Were it not for Brann, we would've been dead."
"I doubt a single ice arrow from me could've taken that thing down," sighed Astrid, her eyes gazing up ahead. "Compared to the other trolls we faced during the siege, that troll we faced was bigger than any I had seen before."
"And the fact that it was armed and cladded in armor made it all the more nerve-racking," added Hiccup. "I couldn't even focus enough to cast a spell. I have to give credit to Toothless and the dragons, though. Their protective instincts must've kicked in at that moment."
The Night Fury gave a nod, expressing a friendly warble.
Olof ran a hand down his black beard. "The trolls of Valnr are scattered all across the continent. They have different sizes and appearances, yet at the same time, it is also strange to see them around these parts. I had always assumed that there were no trolls in the Frel Mountains."
"You speak as if you know a lot about trolls, Olof," said Valara, catching his gaze.
"Of course I do! My father was a monster-hunter, just like the votun. He studied many monsters, such as trolls, jötnar, mammoths, sea-serpents, and even wolves as big as Fenrir's spawns. After he died, I continued his work, hunting hostile monsters during the spring and summer months with the Alsworn tribe."
"Hmm, quite a feat," chuckled Brann. "One must be brave and willing to attempt such a thing. Tell me, is it common for your tribe to encounter monsters?"
"Around the warm seasons, very," nodded Olof. "The Alsworn have to deal with them walking around Aesilgard, our capital. At one point, a group of giants came so close to our borders that we had to send our dragon riders after them in order to send them away. However, the encounter soon turned into a battle, and only one out of the six giants escaped with their lives, whilst five of our twenty riders were injured."
"The more you talk about Aesilgard, the more I want to visit it, just to see its dragons," chuckled Hiccup. "But right now, we have Dalgard to worry about. Or- as the dwarves tend to call it, Khaz'dalgard."
"Ah! Thor's bloody beard, finally! Someone got it right! One more bloody word!" replied Beldrak with a sigh. "Who told ye of that name, laddie?"
"Brann here did," said Hiccup, to which the large viking gave a nod.
"I never understood why people found it a mouthful to say Khaz'dalgard," shrugged Brann. "It's only one more word."
"Whaddya expect, big-man?" asked Snotlout from nearby. "Some people are just lazy and stupid, and-"
"Snotlout," interrupted Fishlegs. "Please, for once, stop it with the attitude..."
"What?" questioned Snotlout. "I'm just telling the truth!"
Brann arched a brow. "Is your friend usually like this?"
"Nah!" replied Ruffnut's voice from nearby. "However, Snot can easily get angry over simple things, whether you're pullin' a prank, or even shoving a finger up his nose."
"Very funny!" replied Snotlout.
"It's common sense, good Snotlout!" said Tuffnut, to which his sister let out a chuckle.
"...Whatever," he grunted.
As the conversation between the vikings continued, the dragons all the while spoke amongst themselves through Dragonese...
"This march is crazy, I'm telling you," said Meatlug as she let out a warbling laugh. "I wonder how much longer we'll have to deal with Snotlout's ranting."
"Probably until we reach this village that this Brann fellow mentioned," said Windshear calmly. "I'm not exactly sure what to expect when we get there."
"Hopefully some sleep," yawned Hookfang. "As well as a moment away from Snotlout. I swear, he's been acting more aggressive as of recently."
"Um… How aggressive are we talking?" asked Barf.
"If you want, we can hang him upside down and use him as a whacking dummy," added Belch in suggestion. "We once did that to the Twins during the days of the Edge, when times were simpler."
"No thanks. I'd rather just have a moment of distance," answered Hookfang. "As to how aggressive we're talking, I'd say as aggressive as he was right before his father died. And I won't lie, it makes me… a bit scared."
The word 'scared' caught attention from the other dragons. Toothless now looked back at Hookfang with concern in his eyes. "Scared? Why? Is everything okay, Hookfang? What is it that's making you feel like this?"
"The thought as to what would happen if Snotlout somehow retained his old memories," said Hookfang, shaking his head. "I know Gothi wiped his head clean, but you don't understand the torture I went through because of him. For example, while he sat in his great hall feasting on meat and fish, I was chained to a corner, with nothing to eat but bread and less than half a salmon. I was left to starve, and nearly died because of him. If I didn't do as he commanded, he would-"
Hookfang paused. He once again shook his head as silence took over the other dragons, who stared at the shakened Monstrous Nightmare with disturbed expressions.
"Sorry," crooned the Nightmare. "I got lost in the moment."
"...There's nothing to be sorry for. We understand," spoke Stormfly in a calm voice. "Just remember that we're here for you, Hookfang. Snotlout cannot lay an aggressive finger on you, and nor will he ever. But if the impossible happens, and he suddenly goes back to his old ways unbeknownst to our riders, I won't be far from you."
"Neither will any of us," nodded Toothless. "Don't worry, Hookfang. I highly doubt Snotlout will go back to his old-self…"
"...In the meantime, how about we talk about something that's more hearty? You can even start, Hookfang; it can be anything that makes you happy."
"Hm. I don't see why not," nodded the dragon.
The conversation between vikings, elves, dwarves, and dragons continued for a while. With every passing minute of the march, the falling snow seemed to slow down a little bit, but not to the point where it ceased. To the elves and dwarves, they considered this quite a surprise, for the snow falling over the Frel Mountains had never slown down this much. Eventually however, a loud, cheerful laugh escaped from Brann as the sight of distant structures caught his eyes.
"Hahaha! We're here!"
As the young vikings looked up ahead, they immediately noticed a downward slope, as if they stood atop a hill, and then, they saw rising smoke. Upon taking in the view, they caught their first glance of Brann's village, as well as the small valley that surrounded it, which was brightened up by the sun from above.
The town in the distance was built next to a fresh river, which was mostly frozen, as well as near the eastern Frel Mountains, though not against them. Walls of wood surrounded the large village, with over a hundred viking huts circling the great hall that stood atop a hill in the center, overlooking the entire settlement. Yet some huts remained outside the walls.
Several of the young vikings let out a, "wow," in unison, gazing down upon the village with glee and wonder.
"Welcome to Halholm," announced Brann cheerfully. "Where only warm hearts welcome you!"
"By meh beard," chuckled Beldrak. "If I'd known this was here before, I woulda told my brothers and sisters about this a long time ago!"
"On its own, this town looks like it's thriving," said Olof. "But imagine what it'd be like if our factions traded with your people, Brann."
Brann smiled, but shook his head. "There's no need," he said. "Though we cannot grow any crops in these mountains, we survive, because the land challenges us to work together. Here, my people are all family."
"And it looks like your efforts have paid off," nodded Hiccup. "Question is, where will our vanguard be sleeping? I don't think we can fit all our men into that great hall of yours."
"Hah," replied the muscular viking. "Well that is where you're wrong, my friend! Just wait until you see the inside of it all! Come, come!"
As Brann continued forward, Hiccup tossed a glance towards the group, and gave them an approving nod. "The sooner we get some food into our bellies, the better. Let's move!"
…
Time passed by. The snowfall continued to lessen and lessen, and as the vanguard followed the frozen river that led towards the village, the vikings, elves, and dwarves began noticing a number of huts nearby. Some were built across the snowy plains, while others stood alongside the river that led to the town. Most of them were fisheries, but they all nonetheless served as homes to the people who lived within.
However, as the vanguard continued passing by, their presence slowly began to catch attention. All those who lived within the huts suddenly began stepping out to catch a glance of them, and as such, this caught the eyes of Hiccup and the other riders.
Men, women, and children of all ages stood in front of their doors and atop their balconies, gazing at the newcomers with intrigument. Many of them also acknowledged Brann, who marched at the front of the line with a smile glued onto his face.
"Hail to you, Brann!" a voice called out.
"Welcome back, Brann!" said another with a smile.
"Good day to you, Chieftain!" waved another, to which Brann waved back.
Compared to most of the viking tribes that Hiccup had seen, these folk did not wear the traditional viking attire with horned helmets. Instead, they wore furred and wool clothing from shoulder to toe. They bore tunics of various colors, both light and dark, as well as hoods and cloaks made from white furs. Aside that however, the rest of their clothes were either brown or grey.
"Your people have quite a lot of color on them," said Hiccup, looking up at Brann. "But why are there so many? Living up here, I would assume your tribe would be… well- somewhat small."
"My people have thrived for a long time. However, it wasn't always like this," answered the older viking. "After I landed on this continent many years ago and began exploring its lands, I came upon the Frel Mountains and found this town in the midst of my travels. Back then, this tribe was living under terrible conditions. The huts were breaking down, the people were cold and starving, and they had no walls surrounding them…"
"That sounds terrible," commented Heather. "I cannot imagine anyone living in such a state, especially back home."
"...Worst of all however, they had no leader," continued Brann. "And so, I offered my help, and I gave these people hope. I taught them how to properly hunt and fish, and how to make homes that were worth living in. After a year, their lives began to improve amazingly, and they begged me to stay and lead them. And so, I placed aside the adventurer within me, and took up that mantle. I've been living here ever since."
"They must love you," said Astrid with a smile. "Hiccup would've probably done the same if he were in your shoes."
"Pfft. Whatever," snorted Ruffnut. "I just wanna stuff my belly with milk and meat."
Fishlegs shook his head. "Be patient, Ruff," he replied. "And more importantly, show some respect. We're guests here, so you should act like one."
"Uhh… alrighty...?" she said, raising her shoulders with a shrug.
The walk towards the village continued in hushed voices amongst the entire vanguard. As they all got closer and closer to the town, crowds of villagers began walking towards the front of the line to greet Brann, and upon reaching the gates, more than a hundred people stood around their chieftain, expressing both curiosity and excitement.
As the vanguard came to a halt, the riders took a moment to inspect the gates before them. Two fortified towers of wood and stone stood along both sides of the great doors, with a rampart spanning between them.
Atop the rampart, ten men stood guard, gazing down at Brann and all those who stood beside him. One of them however stuck out; a young lass who appeared to be as old as the riders, with her fur hood down, and her long red hair blowing against the chilly wind as she waved a pale hand down at her chieftain.
"Hail to you, Brann!" she said in an announcing manner.
"Good morning, Alva!" called out Brann. "How's the family doing?"
"They're doing well, chieftain! As usual," the young woman called back with a smile. "Didn't think you would come back so soon though, and with company! Who are these strangers that are with you? Are they an army? There's hundreds of them!"
"We're just passing through!" Hiccup responded suddenly as he took a step forward with Toothless at his side, causing the crowds around him to begin conversing at the sight of the dragon. "My name is Hiccup Haddock, and I come from a faraway land! Behind me are my friends, along with a vanguard that we're leading!"
"Greetings to you, Hiccup Haddock!" waved Alva. "Where are you and your vanguard headed, if I may ask?"
"These people are travelling towards Khaz'dalgard!" responded Brann. "But their march has been tough, and they require proper shelter and food! As such, I have decided to bring them here, so that they may warm up and find something to eat! I can assure you that they bring no ill intentions here, and thus, I ask that you and everyone else here treat them as you would with any other guest!"
"...Very well, Chief!" nodded Alva. "Shall I go and prepare the great hall for a feast?"
"With all of your haste, lass!" grinned Brann. "The rest of you! Open the gates! I shall have tables prepared both inside and outside of the great hall!"
Cheers erupted from the crowds that stood around Hiccup and the other vikings, and as the men from atop the rampart hastily made their way into the towers and down to the other side of the gateway, the sound of the wooden brace lifting from the gates caught everyone's ears, and soon enough, the doors began to open.
What laid on the other side was like home to Hiccup...