Chương 3: (3) War with the Outcasts
( POV Hadrian Stoickson )
I stared it the fool in front of me. He thought he could challenge me and leave with his head. No. He wasn't especially weak but he wasn't anything special either. The Outcast warrior scowled as if he could hear my thoughts and raised his sword and shield in challenge, an attempt to intimidate me I'm sure. Not that it worked.
He charged at me as men, Outcast and Berk warriors, died around us. I raised my giant Dane Axe, an intricate weapon with its blade shaped like a dragons wing, and swung it with all my might. The Outcast raised his shield to block my swing forgetting that I had the blood of Stoick the Vast flowing through my veins. And I had inherited my fathers build and strength.
My swing shattered his round shield and sent the poor fool flying to his arse. His sword lay beside him but his sword arm had a bone jutting out the side. Deciding to put him out of his misery I swung again, this time aiming for the neck. He let out a short cry before gurgling on his own blood.
*SHIIIIIINNKKKK*
"WHISPERING DEATH!!!" I shouted a warning but the veteran warriors needed none as they readied for the battle to come.
The Berk warriors with shields banged their weapons against them to make as much noise as possible and those without used the blade of their weapons to catch the light while the Outcasts screamed and ran like cowards, though some Outcasts faced the threat they wouldn't survive. I did neither. I readied my weapon and tuned out the screams of terror and agony.
The ground gave way before me and from the earth rose the greenish-blue scaled beast, its snake like body covered in spikes and it's two wings flapping repeatedly. I stared into its white eyes and felt no fear only bloodlust. As more burst from the ground around the battle field the one in front of me opened its giant mouth showing me it's rows of teeth. And it screamed yet again, the sound reminded me of a sword on a grindstone.
I roared back at the beast and swung Bloodrend. At the same time the Whispering Death lunged at me, intent on making me it's next meal but I hit the side of its head with the flat of my blade sending it flying off course and breaking many of it spikes. I stalked towards it while readying my axe for another swing but before I got in range the beast swung its spiked tail at me forcing me to dodge.
I rolled under the tail with an agility someone my size should not possess and after landing the roll into a crouch I swung with all my strength severing the tail from the rest of the body. The tail of a Whispering Death allows stability of flight and without it the dragon in front of me was an easy target. I raised Bloodrend high and in one swing brought it down. The Wing shaped blade was embedded deep into the dragons skull killing it.
I looked around at the battle that raged before me. Outcast warriors were running for their lives and the ones that stayed to fight the Whispering Deaths were slaughtered unlike the Berk warriors who were renowned dragon slayers the other Viking tribes fought mainly with other humans. There were four dead Whispering Deaths and two more fleeing.
"Men of Berk! We have VICTORY!" I called and they answered with roars of triumph.
After their brief celebration we set out to collect the dead and retrieve any valuables as well as take anything useful from the dragons. Finding Whispering Deaths was a strike of luck as while their scales made poor armour their many spines could be turned into arrow and spear tips.
I turned to see Uncle Spitelout approaching. He wore his battle armour which consists of a mail shirt under leather with his shoulders covered in dented battle worn steel plating. He held a sword in his right hand and a shield displaying the Jorgenson sigil, a black shattered spear on a red field.
But there were many warriors that wore similar armour and bore a similar shield, what made him recognisable was his height and his helm. He was a tall man, nearly the same height as me who would have stood eye to eye with the late Stoick the Vast. And his helm like other warriors of Berk was styled after dragon horns.
My Uncles helmet was styled to look like the horns of a Typhoomerang. He tells the story often of how when he was only eighteen winters he faced a giant Typhoomerang in the dragon pits with only his spear, a shield and his wits. He tells of how he could feel his shield melting under the hot tornado of flame and how thinking fast he rolled out of the way and lashed the beasts jaws together with the chain and with a single jab of his spear he pierced the dragons eye. He says that the dragons skull still rests above his hearth.
Like all young Berk warriors his victory was immortalised on his helm. Like all others it was made of metal plate and covered the whole face, it was engraved with runes and symbols. The hors however were identical to that of a Typhoomerang. The horns were thick and started at the side of the helmet and arched back.
"So Nephew, are you going to add that to your collection?" He asked pointing to Whisperimg Death scale in my hand while he removed his helmet.
"No Uncle, I've got a Whispering Death scale already." I replied before throwing the scale to the ground
"Tell me Nephew when will you get a helmet yourself?" He questioned and I know there are many who wonder the same
"When I find a kill worthy of putting on my helm." I replied simply
"Nearly every dragon I can name, you've killed it Nephew! Helhiem that Stormcutter that took Stoick, you killed it with nothing but a broken spear, and you did so at nine winters in the middle of a burning house! What could be more worthy of a place on your helm?" He asked exasperating
"When I find their nest and kill their Queen, then I will get a helm of my own." I responded with a tone of finality and my Uncle knew not to press the issue even if he disagreed
"Prepare the ships Uncle, we sail for Berk as soon as possible." I tell him as I feel the longing for home and my family.
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{ Authors Notes } Not that anyone's reading this
So there you have it a new chap.
Hadrian fighting a war with the outcast.
Hiccup and Valka are at home.
Hadrian has a 'collection' but no helmet.
No one reads these but I hope you enjoy anyway because I enjoyed writing it.
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