Reforged Alliances: A Broken Prophesy story

Reforged Alliances: A Broken Prophecy Story Chapter 19

This is a fanfic and I make no money from this. Original copyrights belong to Dreamworks and Cresedia Cowell

Chapter 19

Mogadon paces back and forth. One of his young warriors was literally drug into his cabin at the first signs of daylight. The sound of a dragon's roar had awoken the old chief, and the fresh smell of fire set the whole harbor into a chaotic uproar. "Now let me get this one more time? Yu' were on patrol." He watches as the young man, barely older than his own son, nods. "And u' were snuck up on by a dragon!"

His sharp tone brought a cold sweat to the young man's brow. "Well... Not exactly. Fynn an' I were followin' one of the side paths." He pauses to swallow, watching his chief glare with those cold grey eyes. "We smelled smoke, and turned the last corner. I saw the end o' the street burning and a shape in the flames." The young man shudders, "I'll never forget! It was black, not black like night... No more like light itself was just sucked away, and left that, that... Demon! It blotted out the fire, then it opened its fang filled maw. Fire jumped inta' its mouth and grew, and grew. Then it set the street alight!! I musta fallen and rolled down hill, where the others found me."

Gesturing to one of the men standing beside the boy, "Take him below, see he's taken care of." With rough hands the young man is hoisted to his feet, and led out of the chief's cabin. "What do you think?"

The other man looks grim. "We did find him at the bottom of a small incline. The end of that street was up in flames, but it seemed localized to just one building. A small hut, maybe someone's home?" The warrior looks to his chief, "Now I dinna' know this Fynn, personally. He comes from one o' the smaller ships. But that Olman had been goin on fur' the last few days about finding an' huntin' a dragon in that area. They were run off, but I know that Olman shortly later started paying off debts, but was still losing more than he was making on this trip."

"Find this, Olman... Bring him here!"

"Aye Chief!" With a sharp salute, he turns and leaves to find another piece of the puzzle.

Moving to his desk, the Meathead Chief takes up paper and quill. Hastily he writes a message as his mind plots, 'The Hooligans are more experienced at direct ground combat. The Burglars are better at stealthy ground actions and raids. We are better at ship-ta-ship tactics.' Looking out into the harbor, at the ships moored there. 'The Hooligans out number us, and while the Burglars give us the advantage, once we take Berk... Need to make sure we have the manpower to directly face the Burglars and come out on top... I don't trust Bertha to leave well enough alone... Once we have Berk, I will give her my undivided attention.' With a dark chuckle, 'In the end, the Meatheads will be the single most powerful tribe in the archipelago.'

Rolling up his note, he slips it into a small metal band on the leg of his last pigeon. Taking the bird to his window, he tosses it into the sky. His smug look of satisfaction is quickly wiped from his face as a large red dragon swoops down and swallows his message in one gulp. "GODS DAMN THAT DRAGON!!! NOT AGAIN!!!"

****

Hearing Magodon raging, yet again, at the red Nightmare would be laughable, if it weren't for the fact her own messages hadn't fared any better. Bertha's eyes dart back and forth, scanning the early morning clouds for any sign of the damnable flying red shark. Casting her eyes to the last of her own messengers, "You better hope for your sake you make it past that beast." Tossing her bird from the deck of her ship she watches in satisfaction as it climbs into the golden tinged sky. As a shadow passes overhead, the weight of an iceberg fills her with dread and in the blink of an eye, her bird joins the same fate as the Meatheads. The sound of wood, cracking and creaking under the strain of her grip and the scowl on her face is the only sign of her displeasure. She looks into the harbor, half of her ships original number had been relocated to the north, trying to find a way past Berks main defenses. News wasn't good however, as several ships, catapults and men were put out of commission by one of the damned Night Furies.