Attack on Outcast Island

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Omniscient
"I'm telling yer, this was a bad idea!" an Outcast slurs drunkenly, slamming his tankard down on the table. "Th' Dragon Master'll be after our heads." he adds in a voice that would have been ominous if he wasn't nearly insensible from alcohol. The others laugh, slapping him on the back. "Good one! What'll 'e think of next?"

"Dragon Master's just a myth." one chortles. "Eh, Morok?" The soldier named doesn't respond, staring pensively into the fire. "He be no myth." he states seriously. "Met a trader who'd seen 'im once. Poor man was terrified, said he'd landed on his boat on a dragon black as night and offered to trade for weapons. Trader was too scared to say no. He were dressed in armour made from a dragon's scales and never took off his mask. The weapons the trader showed me were like nothing I've seen before, made from a new metal that's stronger than steel, but 'e said all the Dragon Master had wanted for 'em was some leather."

His comrades jeer at the tale, ignoring the warnings. One soldier mimed drinking, jerking his head at the oblivious man. No human being could tame a beast like that and live. Silence falls at the fireside, the soldiers drinking in comfortable silence. They're off watch tonight and ready to relax. That is, until an alarm blares from the watch heights. "Invaders on the island!"

Ruffnut
I kicked uselessly out at the Outcast holding me. "Stay still or I'll feed yer to a Whispering Death." he warned. I stuck my tongue out at him. "In your dreams, butt-elf." He growled, shaking me like a ragdoll. "Shut yer smart mouth. Alvin don't like the ones that talk back." Uh oh, that didn't sound good. Maybe he meant violence? I like violence. Except when it's directed at me and involves sharp things. If Alvin tries anything, I'll hit him with my herring. I hope the shark survived.

I was shocked out of my mental monologue when he shoved me into a cell in what looked like the Outcast equivalent of the arena. "Yer friends'll join ye soon." he added, his feral grin showing several missing teeth. I tried to hit him, but he slammed the cage door shut. This is not going according to plan.

We had almost pulled it off. Landing in a cove on the far side of the island, we'd crept past every single guard without a hitch. Admittedly they'd mostly been either asleep or drunk, but you've gotta take success where you can get it. Astrid had snuck into Alvin's hut to snatch the book while the rest of us eavesdropped on the battle plans. We'd learned some very interesting things there. But everything had gone downhill when Fishlegs sneezed and gave us all away. Now we're stuck in a cell, with little chance of escape and none of being rescued.

The others had been dragged in one by one, in various states of injury. Fishlegs had escaped with bruises, but Snotlout had a split lip and Tuff looked like Uncle Gripnut after a tavern brawl. He was also, very conspicuously, missing the shark. I took a moment to mourn for our favourite toy. Oh well, there's always the stuffed yak.

Astrid was in the worst shape, but she insisted it was worth it. "I took down five, but the other three hit me from behind. Sloppy. I'll do better next time." Astrid's self-critique had ceased to surprise any of us a long time ago. After every fight, she always has something to pick on herself about. "Let's just hope there isn't a 'next time'." Fishlegs commented. "We won't escape if we fight every Outcast we see."

We all nodded, except my idiot twin. "But I like fighting Outcasts!" he whined. "It's the most action we've seen since the raids stopped!" Everyone stared at him with identical irritated expressions. Even me, who would normally sympathise with his point of view.
Astrid sighed. "While I understand your annoyance with how boring things have gotten, we'll have a war on our hands if this continues." That was...surprising. "A war?" I asked. She nodded, tapping on the wall with the hilt of her axe. "Yeah. Alvin's taken the Book and now us. Stoick can't just ignore that. He has a choice: rescue us without Alvin knowing or outright challenge him. He simply cannot afford to make Berk look weak."

Ah, Viking politics. A case of fight or die. Just as dangerous - probably more - than the dragon attacks we used to get, considering that appearing to be weak or scared is practically an invitation for other tribes to come and conquer you. We sat in uncomfortable silence, the implications of war clear in all of our minds. Even Tuffnut's. That is, until all hell broke loose. A sound I hadn't heard since I was a teenager echoed in the Outcast arena. Dragon fire.

Ooh, violence. I wonder if we get to fight the dragons?

Hiccup
"Okay, V formation. We separate once inside the arena. Swoop in, shoot, leave. Everyone know the plan?" Five dragons nodded their heads in acknowledgement. "On my signal!" I called above the roar of the wind. "One, two, three, GO!" I flattened myself against Toothless' neck as we dove for the arena, pulling up at the last second. Toothless rolled, blasting six cages in quick succession. The dragons inside called out distant thanks as they flew for freedom.

The others in our small wing were doing the same thing, until Meatlug flew too close to what looked like some kind of ballista. "Meatlug! Watch..." Too late, the man standing at the base had already triggered it.
We quickly learned its function when chains shot out, wrapping around her and pulling her to the ground. Uh oh.

Hookfang angrily flamed up at the sight of his friend struggling on the ground. "That's it, you Viking earthworms! You're about to wish I'd never been born!" I didn't even have time to correct his misuse of the colloquialism before the swooping Nightmare was entangled in a chain net. The infernal device caught Stormfly by the wing claw, bringing down two dragons with one net. Lovely.

A man who I identified as the Outcast chief stood over Stormfly, sword raised to kill. "Come down, or yer dragon dies." he yelled out to us in a language which took me a few minutes to recognise as Norse."We can't let Stormfly get killed!" Toothless murmured. "No, we can't." I agreed. "We have no choice." Alvin took the brief conversation as hesitation. "Well?" he called questioningly. I sighed. "You leave us no options. We, um, surrender."

Barf and Belch followed unhesitatingly as we meekly settled to the ground. Alvin grinned in triumph, his expression looking more like a snarl than a smile. "So this is the Great Dragon Master! What's the matter, don't want yer dragons dead?" Well yeah, that's the point. "I surrendered, didn't I?"

The Outcast Chief stumbled back, staring at me like I was a draugr brought back from Helheim. I tilted my head, looking at him strangely. "What did I do?" Oh yeah, humans don't speak Dragonese.

He quickly recovered from his stupor, barking out orders to his followers. "Take the beasts and cage 'em, and put this one in a cell!" I didn't resist as I was dragged from Toothless' back and marched away, noting the many and varied sharp weapons pointed at me. The others seemed to be following this very excellent strategy, not resisting as they were herded away. Alvin's blade remained far too close to Stormfly for comfort as he watched.

The best-laid plans...
Will automatically fail, because the person who came up with them is also an idiot.
And unfortunately, that person is me.

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