A/N: Still taking in OCs, I also have a special announcement in the author notes at the end. If you submitted an OC, please check it out and reply to it. Also, would you guys be interested in more maps like I did with Blitz? Like a closer look at Sea Reaper village and other islands?
Four days! Ham couldn't believe his friend and future chieftain had been kidnapped just four days ago. Much to Skarf's fury, none of them could identify their attackers. Didn't take long though, before a Bearhide messenger revealed Beowulf's demands publicly. If not for Aron's life on the line, the villagers would have likely left the messenger to deal with the berserkers.
The deal was simple, in exchange for half of Blitz's supplies, the Bearhides wouldn't kill Aron. Skarf had asked time to counsel with the elders and did so for the rest of the day. Before he could announce his decision, a messenger from another island came with dire news. Skarf promised to reveal everything that night at the Pork's Eye. Ham had been eager to get that Bearhide to spill or see his friends again, with tensions high, he'd like to at least discuss what happened. Alas after Aron's kidnapping, Erron was pretty much stuck in Outlander village until Gundrum decided it was safe. As for Kelda, the girl was stuck helping out her parents in the farm before she accidentally injured herself and had to be taken to the Islet of Frey.
They weren't the only ones busy, Ham's father, Stark the Chopper, had put him to work nonstop at the shop. The young Viking never felt much when beheading chickens and cows, he'd been doing it his entire life. He had always been taught to respect life, but with his growing impatience and frustrations, the livestock met a swift end at the butcher's knife. Finally, the familiar jingle of the bells over the front door caught his attention. The butcher shop was no Pork's Eye, a small open area with a wooden floor for the customers, then the desk that separated to the kitchen and the basement's entrance. A few chairs were left for busier days and the heads of two red grapple grounders hung on the wall, gems having long replaced their rotting eyes that seemed to glare down at the entrance of the shop.
"Well I'll be damned," Ham glared furiously at the newcomer. It was the Bearhide messenger who aside from the crew on the wolfship was the only Bearhide currently on Blitz. Broken noses were far too common amidst Vikings, Kelda's crooked nose, Stark's partially severed one, but this guy? Aron had seen pigs with better noses than the Bearhide's, a broken mush of flesh that had been punched in so many times it wasn't even worth fixing. Didn't surprise Ham though, Aron often called him a violent person, it was true, a unstable temper, once he snapped he lashed angrily. Stark said something about his great-grand uncle being a berserker but Ham had just a temper, right? Well right now Ham was more than eager to use it. Yet, not only was Aron's life at stake, but the man was big. More likely than not an experienced brawler considering his lack of major weapons aside from a collection of heavy iron rings on his right hand.
"I'd like to order a few pounds of salted pork, we'll need for the trip back home tonight, can't expect the new supplies to arrive mid trip can we?" It seemed like the man with the crumpled nose recognized him too as a cruel smirk spread across his face. The Bearhide rested an his arm on the counter like he owned the place, Ham had half a mind to chop his arm off, make sure he got to look a little more like his damned chief. Yet the messenger made clear that if any harm came to him or his crew, Aron would pay. Through gritted teeth, Ham went for the storage. When he was younger, he often saw the basement, with all the hanging carcasses and low temperature as nightmarish, now? He could only grunt in annoyance when one of the hanging pig corpses touched his shoulder as he made his way through as he quickly inspected the salted meat, to his displeasure, it still looked edible. By the time he got the barrel, Mr. Wrecked Nose was tapping his fingers impatiently on the counter.
"There you go, it's about ten silver," Ham informed the Bearhide. Truth to be told it actually cost five, but there was no way for the large man to know. Yet the man shook his head with confidence, taking the box with both hands. Ham moved to stop him, butcher knife in hand, but the Bearhide spoke quickly.
"Consider it an advanced tribute, I'll make sure your buddy remains in one piece," The Viking spoke with a tone of arrogance, freezing Ham in place. Yet as he reached the door, Stark the Chopper entered with a very displeased look.
"Chief has yet to announce his decision, that would be eleven silver," Ham was big, but Stark? He got his title for beheading two grapple grounders at once. While Ham only has the butcher knife in hand, Fleshcarver, Ham's family sword, rested on Stark's side. The weapon was customized, more like an elongated butcher knife than the usual sword. The Bearhide's cockiness diminished almost instantly. Stark wouldn't have to bother unsheathing Fleshcarver, those meaty fists were more than enough to crush the messenger and make his nose flatter than a pig's. Forgetting Ham's previous pricing, he quickly took out 11 silver and handed them to Stark before running off with the pork.
"Did you poison it?" Stark asked his son, a dark smile on his face. Ham had only recently managed to discern when his father was joking and when he was serious. Thankfully, he was joking. Ham shook his head, Outlanders might be poison experts but Sea Reapers? They prided themselves with direct combat, taking enemies head on and coming out bloodied but victorious. While they'd never complain when it saved their lives, most Sea Reapers would never accept victory due to poisoning.
"Good, can't lose time telling the chieftain why those scumbags aren't bringing his son back, the meeting is that sun down, go have a look around Hamuld, I'll handle things here," Stark nodded before dismissing Ham. The meaty young man eagerly left after disposing a bloodied vest and taking off his leather gloves. Last but not least he took the mask he has left by his axe. He had bought it from the traders a few days ago, it was carved to reassemble a skull, with an elongated opening for the nose and a cruel grin. Unlike most Vikings, Ham disliked face paint, it reminded him too much of blood stains. Rather than cover his face, he hanged it on the left side of his head. In the midst of summer, there was no need for his cloak so after letting his axe hang from his belt, he rushed out to fresh air, free of the smell of blood and pigs.
The village was busy, there have been no more dragon attacks but the villagers were on guard. Experience made it clear that dragons would usually strike every four or five days, but no Sea Reaper would allow themselves to be caught off guard. But the real tension caused by the setting sun was the upcoming meeting. Blitz was self sufficient, but if forced to give up half of their supplies continuously... It would be a tough winter. Ham just walked, he'd never make to the Islet of Frey or Outlander village and back in time for the meeting. His best hope was having Gundrum bringing Erron for the meeting. Unlikely as that was, Ham could still hope.
Lost in thought, Ham made his way to the harbor before noticing a gathering crowd. Strange looking ships were docking, they weren't wolf ships nor galleons. Ham looked a bit surprised, he had seen these strange ships, formed of wood and metal a few times before, but never in such numbers. Tridents, the signature vessels of the Three. While many viking tribes were patriarchal, others like the Three were matriarchal, with the exception of the fourth group, the recently allied Nomads. A few years ago Ham had heard they had once been a mighty empire, now they lived alongside the Triquetra in their island.
"Odd, they usually come and go in small numbers, I hope we don't have have any more trouble," As always, Erron's frail form was unnoticed by Ham until the last possible second. The short albino had his hood and goggles set, some elders considered Erron to be cursed due to his weakness to sunlight. Yet, seeing him challenge his weaknesses and come out on top, Ham only saw strength. Yet, Erron's comment was accurate, the Three were close allies, their alliance with the Sea Reapers was friendly, but as far as Ham knew, not many Sea Reapers ever visited or spent long in their islands.
Soon enough, the armored figure of Skarf could be seen at the forefront of the crowd, with his rare helmet under his arm, his balding black hair barely waved with the sea breeze as he greeted one of the newcomers. The two looked identical, yet Skarf was a head taller and the newcomer had three claw mark scars starting beneath his eyes and ending near his cheekbones. The man was accompanied by two women, one was old and fierce, carrying a large scythe. The other was younger, around Skarf's own age. They were soon followed by two girls and a young man, all three around Ham's age.
"Odd, if Thyr is here, I wonder where Juniper is? She's going mental when she finds out what the Bearhides did," Erron squinted, but caught no sight of a third female. Skarf exchanged a few words with them before ordering the crowd to disperse and leading them out of the harbor. The other ships docked or dropped their anchors around the harbor. Oddly enough, it didn't look like they were planning to stay for long. Ham and Erron moved out of the way as Skarf led the visitors past them, while the adults kept neutral expressions, the two girls looked like they had cried recently, yet now they moved with furious intent. The boy on the other hand was stressed, snapping the fingers on his right hand nonstop.
They went past the Sea Reapers and Outlanders without a glance. They shared a look, whatever was going on could be related to Aron's situation and the announcement. Usually, Aron would be there to convince them not to do something stupid, or at least pass them the details. This time? The two headed for the center of the village, to their kidnaped friend's house. Honestly, it was no fortress of mansion of old, Skarf's house had an extra floor yet one of the walls on the top floor had collapsed on a recent raid, efforts to fix it had yet to start. Two Sea Reapers stood guard over the main door, Skarf didn't want anyone overhearing. Yet no guard had Erron's skill. The hooded boy led Ham past the house before they doubled back and went straight to he back, acting like they had real purposes, they moved closer to one of the windows and sat beneath it. Aron had told them that his father usually held private meetings in the kitchen. With a bit of effort, they began to make out the words.
"I always knew raiders were bad news but this? Beowulf's demands are unbelievable! Yet for Juni's sake..." It was a young female voice, likely one of the girls.
"They dared to strike at our heirs, I say we unite our forces and storm their island! Surely we can retrieve them once Beowulf is cowed!" Skarf's lookalike spoke with evident fury. The boy soon voiced his agreement.
"Foolish men! The second they catch wind of our armada, our heirs will have blades in their throats, if not deeper," An old gravely voice interrupted. Likely the lady with the scythe. The other woman argued, deciding they should try bargain more. Arguments erupted, finally, a loud bang of metal splintering wood silenced them.
"We are leaders, not children, it's time we behave as such," It was Skarf, the Sea Reaper's words cutting deeper than any swords. The others lowered their tones.
"It's your son and niece brother, surely you don't intend to abandon them," It was Skarf's lookalike, brother apparently questioned the chieftain. Erron and Ham perked up to hear, this was the announcement Skarf would make that night, and they would be the first to know of it!
"My son got into this mess, he's going to get out of it, one way or another, not a single patch of Blitz's harvests will be given to Beowulf," Skarf's words took the boys by absolute surprise. They knew the chief often made Aron solve problems by himself and was pretty harsh with failure, but this? Was it the father making his son independent or the chieftain who couldn't spare any supplies speaking?
"So you have no intention of getting Aron... Your son, back?" One of the girls asked, her voice seemed calm, but Erron recognized the anger beneath it. A few more moments of silence passed.
"Aron is a tough kid, if anyone can break out of wherever the Bearhides are keeping him and make their way home, it's my son," Skarf replied.
"Now once he gets back with more information, then Beowulf will learn why my tribe is called the Sea Reapers," The Sea Reaper replied, again Ham and Erron had no idea if it was faith in Erron or pride that led to Skarf's decision.
"But Juniper..." Thyr tried to appeal to Skarf's niece. Skarf always had a weakness for his niece, yet this time, he was steadfast in his decision.
"Aron is a good kid, are you sure you'll abandon him to the Bearhides?" Gundrum finally spoke, his voice had no anger, but more pity than Erron ever heard from his uncle.
"My son is capable, soon enough the Bearhides will learn what it means to attack a Sea Reaper, now, is that all you came to discuss?" Skarf finished the discussion with clear finality.
"You know, Heather wanted to come ask you herself, but there are seven granddaughters needing their mother, will you make these poor girls grow up without their mothers like..." Thyr made one final attempt to convince his brother, a loud sound cut him off.
"You will not turn this on Ragna! She died for what she believed in like a true Sea Reaper! My wife is one of the greatest heroes of this tribe! Aron grew up because of her sacrifice!" Skarf rarely snapped, Erron and Ham internally recoiled at hearing the fury, the grief, and the anger in the chieftain's voice. Finally, it looked like the message was clear, Sea Reapers would make no attempt to please the Bearhides or try rescuing Aron. The discussion slowly turned to how to deal with future Bearhide aggressions, at this point, Erron and Ham drifted off.
"Leaving Aron to his fate... Chief may say it but... He's a friend," Erron was the first to break the silence, Ham nodded. Yet unlike Erron, he had a very clear idea of Blitz's current situation. Sharing half of their supplies wouldn't just make a tough winter, they had already lost and would likely lose more to dragons in the coming weeks. If the village planned to merely survive, they needed everything they had. Yet Erron was right, there was no way they could abandon Aron. The heir was good, but to single handedly escape an island filled with hostile forces? That was pushing it.
"We will need a ship, and a crew," Ham finally spoke. They knew what Aron would do if either of them had been taken, no way they'd abandon their friend.
"Kelda will probably jump at any chance of payback at the Bearhides, Sweyn maybe? He did save Aron's butt last raid..." Erron continued, arms crossed, deep in thought. Ham was never much of a thinker but even he was absorbed in thought, they would need five trustworthy people who'd be willing to go against Skarf's direct orders. They did consider asking for the Three's aid but they didn't really know their leaders that well. In the end they settled with one other person, and decided to work extra to cover the missing slot, no time to find anyone else.
"Actually, I'd be willing to tag along," A calm voice made both of them jump before turning to see the overhearer. Ham couldn't recall when he saw the boy before, but something about the black braided hair and his weapon seemed familiar. Aside from the Three's notorious Morrigan the Reaper, the old chieftain of the Triskelion, few Vikings wielded scythes. This boy had the curved blade connected to the tip of the stave, making it more like a spear with an oversized blade and a few gems decorating it. Yet nothing about the boy spoke wealth and power, his skin was pale, although far from Erron's own.
"Gleb the Siren right? The guy who killed the Death Song?" Erron recalled the boy who appeared a few years early in Blitz. Apparently he had been left in the woods as a child before a merchant found him and adopted him for a few years before Gleb finally returned, earning his place with his birth tribe by slaying a death song that had began plaguing Outlander hunting grounds a few months ago.
"That's me, so when are we leaving?" Gleb questioned. By all rights Gleb was a full member of the Outlanders, yet he chose to spend most of his time away from their small village and into the wilds. Ham was more than eager to fill up the spot, however...
"Why? You barely show up around Outlander Village, why go out of your way in a nearly suicidal mission for someone you never even talked to?" Erron asked, crossing his arms. As of now the outlander was a wildcard, considering the dangers they were about to face, a wildcard couldn't be a good idea.
"I heard what you guys were saying, if Skarf is abandoning his own son..." A dark shadow cast over Gleb's eyes, despite his frail form, his fists were clenched tightly. Ham wasn't sure what Gleb meant, but Erron did. Gleb's parents had left him to die, just like Skarf was doing to Aron. That motivation was fine for Erron.
"My dad has an old wolfship we use to go fishing sometimes, we can gather everyone while the adults are in the meeting, something tells me Skarf's decision won't be a popular one," Ham finally settled, Gleb went back to Outlander village to gather the heavy cloaks they'd need to disguise themselves at Grisly Island, much to his own dislike, Erron would have to track down Kelda, Sweyn and the other recruit. Gleb had suggested her but honestly, the duo were unsure, but since they needed all the rebellious manpower they could gather, Erron would be going after her.
"Let's hope Skarf doesn't exile us when we show up with Aron," Erron joked before they went their ways, the white haired teen vanishing amidst the carts and working villagers. Gleb followed the suit before Ham went to the harbor. By now, only a few members of the Three remained on their ships, most left for the Pork's Eye or to meet distant relatives. Leaving only a few guards behind, Ham greeted some Sea Reapers as he made his way to the very end of the harbor, were older fishing ships remained. Amidst them, was a wolfship with a boar's head carved on the front. The Drowning Boar, not exactly a full out raiding ship and a far cry from a mighty galleon like Loki's Pride. Even Hagar's old Battering Ram was better, but she was their only somewhat legal option.
Taking a look of the mess of nets and ropes, Ham sighed, he needed to tidy it up before finding someway to smuggle enough food from the shop without his father noticing. Leaving his seax on the side of the ship, Ham got to work. Thankfully the mess looked worse than it was. After finally readjusting the shields to the sides of the old ship, he saw the sun was almost down and with no ominous clouds of wings and flames in the horizon, the meeting would commence soon. His father would likely be there by now. Jogging out of the harbor, the shop was close by. To his surprise, Ham found Sweyn awaiting for him at the shop's entrance. The young man had his bow and quiver on his back and a seax on his belt.
"Good, Erron and the others are helping Gleb with the cloaks, he requested that I helped you moving the supplies," The Sea Reaper explained, Ham nodded before unlocking the door with his spare key. Thankfully, his father had already left so it was a more about not damaging the two caskets of salted meat than it was about going about unnoticed. By the time they returned to The Drowning Boar, the others had just finished settling down, thankfully Kelda had brought more flasks of water. Something that had passed completely over Erron and Ham's heads.
"You know, I think The Insane, will make a fitting title for me after we come back, what are we anyway? Some sort of suicide crew?" A female voice caught Ham's attention. Erron's final recruit for the Drowning Boar's crew, Stellian Everindottir. Her black hair and onyx eyes vanished in the shadows of the torchlight, her dark vest and outfit too difficult to make out in the darkness.
"So how much gold did Erron bribe you with?" Ham asked jokingly as he and Sweyn joined them on the ship and sat by the oars. Kelda was untying the rope and throwing it to the deck before joining them.
"Five silver and a promise," Stellian replied, her gaze hardening for a moment. Erron just quietly helped distribute the oars, due to his small stature in the end Ham helped him out. Suddenly, they heard cries of protest coming from somewhere in the village.
"Guess the chief just made his announcement," Erron muttered as they began to row out of the bay used as the harbor and into open sea.
"Next stop, Grisly Island, we're coming Aron,"
A/N: Managed to make a nice reference somewhere in this chapter, congrats to whomever notices it! So, for the announcement, one of my submitters, Lady Kiko-Chan, is soon going to start her own HTTYD SYOC. So we had a crazy idea, I'm proud to announce Legends of Blitz is going to form an expanded universe with another SYOC story, coming soon to Fanfiction, Legends of the Triangle! Starring some characters already shown, yet not all named, this very chapter! Which leads me to my request to all of you submitters.
With the Legends of Dragons universe, I'd like to ask permission to everyone who submitted an OC thus far to allow me to share the forms with Kiko, considering we do have future crossovers planned for our stories and of course, the occasional cameo and reference. Alas, I'd like to have you guys give me a go for sharing the sheets first since you filled them out in the first place.
Several new OCs have appeared or been mentioned this chapter, some weren't named but I'll leave their names bellow and define who they are for explanation's sake. Here it goes:
From Lady Kiko-chan, these characters will play major roles in her story, Legends of the Triangle
-Juniper Silverblood, heiress to the Triquetra Tribe and recently taken hostage by the Bearhides. She's Aron cousin
-Thyr Silverblood, Juniper's father, Skarf's brother and Aron's uncle
-Morrigan The Reaper, head of the Triskelion
-Flidais Winterfang, heiress of the Triskelion Tribe
-Agate The Ghost, chief of the Triskele Tribe
-Amethyst Thunderbone, heiress of the Triskele Tribe
From Insanity's Jewel
-Gleb Skalekoff
-Veidmar Dyr, although young, he's head of the Nomad Tribe
From I'm Crazy and I Like It
-Stellian Umenarii