Chapter 2

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Astrid awoke to a horrible screeching. Looking up she saw Outcasts wrangling a Dragon into the cell across from her. A deadly Nadder to be precise. Its spiked tail was bound in rope to stop it piercing spines through them. Its head had a muzzle as the Outcast tugged it forward but it kept rearing back. It took several Outcasts to finally trap it in its cage. They spat at it as it hissed. The Outcasts left seeming to have not noticed her, thankfully.

She stared at the sky blue and gold dragon in front of her, as the dragon stared back. The dragon looked just as battered as she did. She had to say, she liked how hard it fought back, but it was a dragon nonetheless.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting there but there was one word on her mind:

'Escape.'

She slowly - painfully - stumbled to her tired feet, leaning against the wall for support and started scanning the dimly lit area for anything useful. But the stone cell was just that, jagged stone walls and rusted iron bars. She traced one of the many claw marks scarring the wall with her bond hands. Made her way up to the rusted - slightly damp - metal bars which still held strong. Though she managed to fray the rope by rubbing it hard against the rust until it snapped. The only thing in here was a water bowl and a dish of what appeared to be the remains of a long-decayed fish. She slumped against the cleanest wall and hugged her knees.

"Hey there. Hey, it's okay."

Her head snapped up to see a very strange sight. Someone was trying to talk to the dragon across from her. He was trying to comfort it!

"What are you doing?" She asked, startling the slender figure. He looked back at her. She saw a tall lanky form standing by the cage, it was too dark to see his face but his body language made it obvious he was confused.

"Oh, Gods! I thought you were a dragon." He replied awkwardly.
"You know that would be an insult right?" She deadpanned.
"Depends who you ask. If you tell a dragon they look like a Viking, they get pretty offended too."
"Dragons can get offended?" She asked curiously.
"Well duh. Why else do you think they growl at you when you insult them?" He answered like it was obvious.
"You're crazy. Dragons are mindless beasts that have killed hundreds of Vikings." She turned away, crossing her arms. 'Just ignore the lunatic.'
"And Vikings have killed thousands of them! They just defend themselves, that's all." He hissed.
"You're the weirdest Outcast I've ever met." Her voice slipped out, she didn't actually mean to respond.
"Now I'm offended that you think I'm an Outcast." This pricked her interest.
"Then what are you doing on Outcast Island?"
"It's a... long story." He replied, rubbing the back of his head. Clearly not wanting to talk about it.
"Well, you have a captive audience. I think I've got time."
"I'm not getting out of this am I?"
"Nope."
"... Fine. I'm a..." He paused in thought for a moment about how to word his story. "Traveling blacksmith. The short story is: I was on my way to... to Peaceable Island for trade but there was a huge storm and we washed up on Outcasts island. I was caught and they were going to kill me... until I mentioned I could smith..." He trailed off shyly.

"So you're a slave?" She asked sympathetically. Becoming a slave in Viking culture was hugely dishonourable and hard to live down, but she was in no situation to judge from behind bars.

"No!" He exclaimed defensively. He seemed to think it through before correcting with a sheepish: "... Yes? Not for long anyway, I'm planning on getting out of here."
"Care to help me out too? If you help me get back to my island I might be able to convince my chief to reward you. Maybe a boat lift to your home island? Oh, wait, Gobber the Belch! He's the best blacksmith in the Archipelago, I'm sure he could give you a few tips."
"Uh, thanks, but I doubt I'd need it -" He cut himself off and stood rigidly; listening. Before she could ask, she heard footsteps coming, he quickly retreated into a nook in the rock by the Nadder's cage as two guards appeared.

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