"Is everyone ready?" Rooster asked. Getting silent nods in reply, he turned his focus back to the lonely mountain on the rocky island. The purring noise that they heard when they first arrived has long since ceased. But it was obvious that dragons lived here. This was their nest that they had kept secret for so long. Well, the secret was out.
Today marked the end of the war.
"Fire," Rooster ordered, his face lacking emotion. The command spread through the Vikings like a wildfire. Moments later, huge rocks were hurling through the air from the catapults they brought along. The giant boulders struck the mountain, tearing gaping holes into its sides. Motioning for everyone to keep quiet, Rooster strode up to one of these holes with a torch in his hand. Silent as a mouse, he peered inside.
There were dragons everywhere.
"ATTACK!" Rooster shouted. Spooked by his thundering voice, the dragons took flight. The air was filled with dragons of various species, sizes and colors. Battle cries rang out as the Vikings raised their weapons and attacked without mercy. Some dragons were struck down, others were wounded and then there was the lucky few who escaped unscathed. Not a drop of Viking blood had been spilled as the dragons flew away from the rocky island, screeching in terror. Raising an eyebrow, Rooster muttered, "What in the name of Thor?"
"That's it?!" Pops questioned, shocked. Shrugging his shoulders, the elderly blacksmith Viking remarked, "I didn't think it would be that easy." Looking out across the cheering Vikings, Rooster replied, "Me neither." His eyes landed on the chained Rabbu back on one of the ships. The snow white beast seemed agitated, struggling against his bonds. Something wasn't right.
The earth suddenly began to shake violently.
"It's not over! Stand your ground!" Rooster shouted. He turned around and faced the gaping hole in the mountain just in time to see a huge fireball coming his way. Without hesitation, the chief jumped out of the way. And in the nick of time too. A loud roar pierced the air. A second later, rocks rained down as the mountain side crumbled. Backing away from the rockslide, Pops was the first to see it. "Rooster!" he cried, pointing with his hook, "It's a Viper!"
"Odin help us..." Rooster mumbled, his eyes widening in fear. Everyone was looking up at the serpentine dragon that had slithered out of the lonely mountain. Bigger than any dragon they had ever seen, it towered over the Vikings with ease. Its eyes narrowing to thin slits, it let out another deafening roar before unleashing its fury upon the intruders. Within five seconds, ships were burning in an immense bonfire and Vikings fell to the ground like flies downed by a flyswatter. Devastated by the carnage all around him, Rooster became aware of the fact that the Viper was looking down at him. Standing proud, the chief waited for the death blow.
It never came though as a fiery blast exploded behind the Viper. The beast turned around to reveal a group of dragon riders.
