Reforged Alliances: A Broken Prophesy story

Reforged Alliances: A Broken Prophecy Story Chapter 20

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

Chapter 20

"What was that?"

For what seemed the hundredth time, Trollbait rolls his eyes. "Shh!!!" He hisses to the youngster bringing up the rear of his team. The kid was barely old enough to be considered an adult and had never been on a raid before. 'Being a little jumpy on his first mission was to be expected, but really?! He has jumped at every shadow, every little noise.'

"I swear!   With Thor as my witness, there was a dragon under that wagon!"  The young man points.

Looking at the pile of bags, old nets and other debris, Trollbait shakes his head. "Ain't nothin there now... Now if you don't shut up, I'll have ya scrape the barnacles off every ship in the fleet... with your face, startin' with our own Guppy." Shaking his head in frustration the old, rotund sailor creeps through the narrow footpath.   Grasping the youth by his neck, he pulls him into place just behind himself.

The old walkway had obviously been abandoned for a long time. Some bags of what looked like fishing gear, had been reduced to moldy piles tinder. Nets that had begun to rot away disintegrated with the lightest touch. The path was really not much more than an old goat trail, gently it wound its way long the cliffs, hidden by the varied levels of buildings used by the Villagers to store supplies and food. The buildings were all relatively new, well kept but currently empty of anything useful.

"AHH!!!"

Turning around, Trollbait glares at the young man. "I told ya' ta' keep yur' yap shut!" he hisses through clenched teeth.

"I swear I saw another dragon!"  The young man tugs at his red dyed leather jerkin nervously.  

Trollbait rolls his eyes, letting his gaze fall upon his team of eleven other men. 'Wait... Something is off...' Quietly the greying Viking lets his eyes fall on each member. His fingers clench one by one. His eyes fall on the man in the very back of the line, with no more fingers left. 'I swear, I know I needed to count my toes to include everyone...'

The aged man shrugs his shoulders, deciding his original count was most likely off. 'I can skipper a ship, and swing a sword. I don't need ta' know how ta' count.'   Leading his men further up the path, he hears the youngster behind him gasp, but then not a peep. "Bout time! Ya' need ta' stop being so damn... Jumpy..." Trollbait turns around to check his team's progress.  The heavyset Meathead stands alone.  The only human amongst a truly impressive swarm of dragons. 

The path behind him is covered wall to wall with small brightly colored dragons, each no bigger than his foot. The swarm of Terrible Terrors is at once worrying and impressive. "All righ' ya' little bastards!! Yu' got my men, but ya' ain't gonna take me!!"

The largest Terror, tilts its head, flaps its little wings and shakes the odd helmet on its back, making a clanging noise. With a brief plume of fire, the swarm surges forward, and in the blink of an eye covers every inch of the invading Viking. Before Trollbait has the chance to utter a single word, the horde of dragons have cleanly clawed away at his armor and clothing, the sharp teeth nipping at his hand makes him drop his blade. He then has the distinct feeling of being moved, not quite carried, not quite dragged. When the motion stops, Trollbait finds himself standing naked and unarmed in front of his men. Each and every one in the same state. A single torch lights the natural cavern. From the central cave, dozens of tunnels shoot off into a labyrinthine maze.

"Is everyone here?" Trollbait asks.

"I told ya'! I said there were dragons!"

"So help me Gilgreen!" Trollbait growls, reaching up to snatch his helmet from his own head in order to crown the troublemaker, stopping only when he finds it is missing as well. Taking a moment to recompose himself, "What do ya' think Ginger?"