We Go To Extremes

Prologue: Let's begin, shall we?

A/N: Hello! This is my very first story so, please try to not to hate on it to much. If you don't like it you can always just go read another story. I'll always be open to suggestions and tips. If there is any mistakes or incorrect spelling I apologize. Make sure to vote and comment! I hope you all like it. Enjoy!

The temperatures were deadly cold. But that was to be expected when living on an island 12 days north of hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death. Being hundreds of feet up in the air didn't help with the cold airs sting at all. While being solidly located on the meridian of misery the island of Berk was a more wonderful and exciting place than anywhere in the archipelago.

Until a couple years ago, we had some problems, like the pests. You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes, we have dragons. They would attack and raid us stealing our livestock and food. We, the vikings, hated dragons, they were our sworn enemies. This hatred had lasted generations, until the day I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, shot down the one and only Night Fury.

There are many different varieties of dragons, but the rarest and deadliest of all was the Night Fury, the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.

I was always a misfit among my people. Vikings were suppose to be tough and strong warriors who could slay any beast using only our bare hands. Take my father for example, Stoic the Vast, chief of our tribe, the Hairy Hooligans. They say when he was a baby, he popped a dragons head clean off its shoulders. Do I believe it. Yes, I do.

I could never do any of that stuff. I could barely pick up a sword. I was scrawny and weak, the runt of the heard.

One special night though, while the others were fighting against the dragons in a raid, I went out with a new invention of mine to shoot down a dragon. You see, I've always been sort of an inventor. Another reason for my being an outcast. Vikings didn't care about having any smarts or being talented in creating new inventions to improve life, they were fine living as they were. What can I say, we have stubbornness issues. Vikings didn't like the idea of change, they liked the old, traditional way.

When I went to shoot down a dragon, I wasn't just trying to shoot down any dragon. Oh, no. I was attempting something no one has ever even thought of trying, shooting down a Night Fury. The one dragon no one has even seen.

My invention ended up successfully wrapping the Night Fury in a bola. He had fallen into the woods and I soon went after him. I had found him, laying on the ground not even attempting to get out of the trap. Instead of killing him, like how vikings do, I freed him of the ropes. He had run away into the forest.

A few days later, after my first lesson in dragon training (where young viking teens learn to kill dragons), I had went back out into the woods to find this mysterious dragon that didn't try to kill me, as my trainer said all dragons do.

I had found him stuck in a cove unable to fly, due to a missing tail fin. Over the course of a few weeks I had befriended the dragon, giving him a name, Toothless, and recreating his missing tail fin, allowing him to fly with the help of a rider shifting the gears of the tail. I had even succeeded in dragon training, beating even the most violent viking to ever live, Astrid Hofferson.

Astrid had noticed my recent excuses to go meet up with Toothless, and had one day followed me into the forest to confront me about it, as well as my recent incline of success in dragon training.

After she had noticed Toothless she had attempted to run back to the village and rat me out to everyone. Me and my dragon had caught up with her and took her for a flight earning us a new sort of trust. Toothless then decided to fly us to the nest, where the dragons reside. Our chief had spent years searching for it, to no avail.