renegades, httyd

i. Berk Like Never Before?

renegades
chapter one

    Berk used to be one way.

    One way for seven generations in fact. Around four hundred years of brutal battles of Viking against dragon. Battles where it was kill or be killed, of dragon heads as trophies to hold up in the Great Hall. Years and years and years.

    But now, everything was different. 

    The dragons now lived among us. We didn't fight them anymore. They were our friends, in fact. We lived with them, trained them, fought with them.

    (Considering Vikings and our ... stubbornness issues ... it's quite surprising).

    That's all thanks to Hiccup Haddock III━the son of the Chief of the Tribe and his befriending of Toothless the Night Fury. They changed how Berk saw dragons. They changed all of us forever━me forever.

    And I'm sure you want to get to my story, and we will. But first, don't you want to know where Berk is?

    Well, the best I can say is that we're situated in the lovely cold North. A place not for the faint of heart; it was great here, in Berk━the climate was wonderful! And in fashion, at the moment, was frostbite to your spleen and a loss of at least two toes and fingers. (Hear the sarcasm?) But we're Vikings━we're the toughest, burliest and (sometimes) ugliest sort of breed you'll ever get. We knew how to live in the harsh, cold weather that was Berk. We have been here for seven generations, remember?

    But, despite the cold, it could be beautiful. On the ocean, amongst mighty sea stacks, were the protectors of Berk; two tall stone Viking statues that held fire in their mouths and axes in their hands. When the sun was out, the water that lapped the docks were pristine in colour, reflecting ones face in the ripples. From the docks, wooden walks wrapped up and around the edge cliffs to the centre of the village━thatched-roof houses extending out on either side, with wooden dragon heads hanging over the doors. Leading up the slope was the chieftain house situated under the shadow of the Great Hall, a tall, magnificent building built into one of the tallest cliffs Berk had to offer. Up that cliff, slithered up a old and broken walk leading to the Elder Gothi's house, just above the blanket of clouds.

   My house lies in the centre, where the normal Vikings lived. Not with the fishermen Vikings that clubbed their houses together down the bridge to the left━amongst the likes of Mulch and Bucket the Halfwit. Nor with the farmers up the long walk around the cliffs like Silent (not so silent) Sven. The Hofferson Clan primarily found ourselves smack bam centre, amongst other warrior families. (Or rather, warrior annoyances). Under the Deadly Nadder head was my home, and it was placed in the worse place possible. This is because on either side, you had Snotlout's house, and Ruff and Tuff's house. Three of the people I cannot bare to deal with, and I do not understand how my sister can hang with them. In fact, if I had my way, I would find an avenue in which I could throw them off Dragonscale Cliff.