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LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Might not seem like it...

But once in a while, Ebony does have her reasons. :'3


Yes! I'm so happy you're enjoying a spot of Arthurian Legend with me ^^ it's been a blast to add that to the story.


As for Toothless and Ebony, I'm flattered you like her that much but I've never thought that they were each other's type. Personality wise anyways. And I shudder at the thought of this distracted fury being a mother. Perhaps if she had help from the vikings... like a LOT of help... actually that could be hilarous and adorable at the same time. Who wants to help raise a baby NF? 

*promptly gets run over by Vikings*

You're so right tho I was bummed that we would never get to see a real nf baby in the movies. I wanted to see one so bad! :'3




@Ninja: no, just Myrddin has his secret identities. Everyone else that's their real name. As far as the Arthurian characters go, I just changed it a little so the reader does not immediately recognize them by the legend, and judges them instead by their actions. 

Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 04/03/2020
Is agree... But it would be

Is agree... But it would be so cute! I volenteer to help! 

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

Yay!  My cousin's dogs used to do what Ebony does.  They would howl the tune when you sang or played piano.  I can't help but wonder what MegaMind will do to Astrid's plan...  "Hey, Epp.  We're here to rescue you."  *MegaMind does his thing* "Hey, Epp.  We're here to rescue you."  It could go favorably, too.  "Wait a minute, you're not Astrid, you're Ruffnut!  Arrest her!"  *MegaMind does his thing*  "Wait a minute, you're not Astrid, you're Ruffnut!  Arrest her!"  XD  Great chapter!

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

That's great! xD The real life Ebony doesn't actually howl or anything, but if you start singing she'll come wandering up to you like she's under a spell or something, her eyes huge. It's so funny, and I can't figure out if she really likes it or is in her own weird way begging me to stop x'3


Hehe yeah. Sutff will happen. xDDD

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

My kitty Tina will do the same, but only with opera for some reason.  We watched The Phantom of The Opera and her eyes were glued to the screen the whole time. 

Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 04/03/2020
I am now very worried...

I am now very worried...

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Chapter 46







Red Dawn




Rustle rustle. Shhhhhuddder!”

Like clockwork two double-lidded eyes opened slowly. Dawn had not yet reached his perch but it was seconds away from it. He bruxed, shook the sleep from his rain-wet feathers and stretched a leg and a wing at the same time.

Now. What were the humans up to today? The favorite eye turned down.

Hmm. None of the humans he’d followed were out and about.

Focus traveling across the large field to the fortress on the other side the Gryphon’s eye stopped. There. Movement from within. A single human, sneaking around a building.

Cleak. Cleak, cle-clea-cleak-cleak!

Albion said softly. Trouble had already begun.






…Silk. How he loved silk. When he had his palace he’d import it from the farthest reaches of the known world. Exotic places like India, or even China, and every chair and bed would be covered in it. He’d even have royal robes made with it, and robes for lounging. Useless? Maybe. But that’s what he wanted and what he wanted was what he got.


“Shut it,” he growled, rolling over. Where was he? Silk…

Out out out out out out out out out out out out out out out out out

“Alright alright!” Alvin snarled to a sitting position. The first fiery red rays of dawn temporarily blinding him.

Oh. It was morning.

Hotshot scurried wildly up down and all around his tiny cage as Alvin got up. The Piranharrow came to a stop in front of the door hopped.

“If I weren’t in such a fine mood you worthless reptile I’d hold your breakfast from you.” He opened the door and the dragon scurried up his arm, wrapping his tail around Alvin’s wrist as Alvin pressed down on the shard. It’d become more of a force of habit than anything else to them. “But as it is I am in a good mood -and I need you to be at your best- so you will get breakfast. There. Have your fill of what’s left of my venison.”

The Piranharrow launched from his shoulder onto the table with a clank, his short little legs not getting him where he wanted to go fast enough. Sniffing a giant pile of cold meat he came to a bare t-bone and pointed, squinting.

“Are you serious?” Alvin answered the unspoken question. “Of course I ate it it was MY stag! Take what’s in front of you before I throw it out the window to your friends.”

The dragon growled bitterly but ate anyways, knowing from experience the Outcast meant what he said.


“Unbelievable.” He turned away to the westward-facing window he had put in. A grin that would have looked quite handsome if you didn’t know what was behind it spread across his face. “There you are, beautiful. By the time that sun kisses that horizon tonight, you will be mine. You, your people, your gold, and all Artorījos glory.”

There was a knock on the door.

“About time, Caliban. Do you have my breakfast?”

“Yes sir.”

Alvin stopped and narrowed his eyes. “Who is this?”

“Cyrus, sir.”

“Where’s Caliban?”

“No one knows. He said he was going to see the Commander about something but never went. The Commander is looking for him right now.”

His expression hardened. “Get Justinian.” He said.

“Uh… I’ll do my best sir but he’s also readying the troops. Do you want me to leave your breakfast here?”

“I’ll go without. I’m not opening this door until I know that all the Vikings are where they belong. Especially their axe-murdering fem-fetal leader.”

“…okay, sir. …so, should I just take it ba-”

“Just get the Commander you idiot!”

Stupid little soldier. The man growled, pacing. The lot of them. Stupid, backstabbing, worthless…

Hotshot looked up from his grooming, a pile of bones behind him on the table.


No, not yet. The Outcast took in a deep breath and let it all out. No, he wasn’t going to let himself get all worked up over a single, well-meaning meaningless soldier. One way or another the situation would sort itself out, and by evening…

That smile crept back up his face. …he wouldn’t have to deal with another Legionary again.

Knock knock knock


“Sir, I wasn’t able to get the Commander, but Caliban has been found and dealt with.” Cyrus said.

“Are all the Vikings accounted for?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Since by now my breakfast is cold, go make me another. And have it brought to the Northern Turret.”

“…yes, sir.” There was a grit in his speech.

Disaster avoided, Alvin stretched with self-satisfaction. It was going to be a good day. A glorious day and new beginning for Wotādīni.

“For the first time my dear Hotshot,” He turned to the little Piranharrow. “History, is going to treat us well.”





Oh that sun was red. Vivid red. Not that I could see it or anything but the cracks in the stable walls let the color leak through where I was sitting in the rafters.

I was only half awake when I realized there were footsteps outside.

“Psst! Astrid!” a voice whispered.

Curiosity peaked; I answered the shadow on the side-wall of the barracks.

“Is that you Caliban?”

“Yes,” he answered sounding conflicted. “I… I shouldn’t be here but… well I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t speak with you.”

“What do you want?” I retorted.

“To help you,” he stressed. “And I don’t have much time they’re going to notice I’m missing.”

Groggy or not I could tell something was amiss. “What are you talking about?”

“They’re not going to take you to the training domes today,” He faltered. “At least not the adults. The children will be ok I think but they’re- they’re going to have the Wotādīni execute the rest of you.”

“The what are going to what?” Every bit of sleepiness vanished. Abandoning my hiding place and stepping on Gobber I made for the wall so I wouldn’t miss a word Caliban said. Gobber merely grunted and rolled over.

“When? How? What are Wotādīni?? Talk to me Caliban!”

“People on the other side of the wall that today we make war with. When they take you out they’re going to march you unarmed to the front. The Wotādīni have a violent history with you Nords; They’ll assume you’ve united with us to destroy them and wipe you out.”

“When is this happening? And.. why??”

“Soon very, very soon. Justinian and Griseomus think if your dragons watch the Wotādīni kill you they’ll bond with us and fight our enemy.”

Sick twisted geniuses! I hissed under my breath. That might actually work. “Where’s Alvin?”


“Where’s Alvin? Or rather where will he be in a half hour or so? Do you know?”

“He’s stationing in one of the turrets to watch the battle.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know! But don’t expect any help from him he wanted the children out on the field as well.”

“Is Epp still in that shed?”

“Who is-“

“The Pict! The Pict Alvin is holding separately is he still in the shed next to the domes?”

“Yes. …What makes him so special?”

“Nothing,” I couldn’t bring myself to trust the Roman.

“Well do you want me to try and break ‘nothing’ out?”

I stared down the crack in the wall, thinking hard. So hard my mind didn’t even register the small but growing shadow sneaking up behind Caliban’s.


“Or do you want me to break you and your Vikings out?”

“No. There’s no chance of escape if even one of us is missing, they’ll hold our dragons hostage. Break Epp out and bring him here.”

“But I could get you out with right now. I can’t just leave you here Justinian and the troops will be coming any secon-“

“How about now?”

Something dropped as Caliban spun at the sound of the Commander’s voice.

“Justinian,” the soldier swallowed, back against the wall that separated us. I could see the commander’s shadow and others quickly joining it, accompanied by snide and vicious sounding Latin taunts. A few that were less taunting and more confused I recognized to be men under Caliban.

“Having friendly little conversation with the Vikings, are you?” His superior spoke in that deathly calm, and sighed. “Pallus dead, I was forced to make you head of the trainees, but you were too weak for the job and I knew it. My error. Now…What did he tell you, Astrid?”

I looked up through the crack, and can’t lie was a little unnerved to make eye contact.

“Where are you going taking us?” I demanded as if I didn’t know. Gobber grunted and a few others nearby stirred. “It’s not to the training domes is it!”

“Hey,” Ruff sat up only half awake. “No shouting until after nine. Some of us need our beauty sleep!”

The Commander’s cold eyes turned back to Caliban.

“So you didn’t tell her yet.”

“No sir.” Caliban answered in a way that I would later realize came from knowing what was about to happen. He took a step back, kicking something under the wall to my side.

“Good.” The Commander smiled in Latin.


With sudden, livid fury he pulled his sword from its sheath and took Caliban by the shoulder. I jumped as the tip went right through Caliban and into the wall nearly three inches.


The soldier made a horrible choking sound, going completely rigid. Justinian cruelly twisted the blade and Caliban gasped, rasped three last, painful breaths… and was gone.

“Quis ho hidealiud volo temptare patientia mea?” Justinian turned calmly to the men who had fallen dead silent behind him.

“non domine.” They answered gravely.

“Bonum.” He said again. The blade ripped out of the wall and the dead man crumpled into a heap. “Eos deducere. Felix hanc accipere.”

The commander cleaned his sword on the grass and returned it to its sheath.

“Etiam domine.” They saluted as he turned to leave and they made for the door to our barracks.

“Caliban,” I bent down, putting my hand against the wood opposite his body. “I’m so sorry,”

A hundred wide awake and worried faces looked to me for direction.

“What’s going on Astrid?” Fishlegs struggled to keep from panicking.

Something glinted sunlight into my eyes. There, down by my feet was a small prybar.

I picked it up.

“Should we stick to the plan??” He said urgently. The soldiers had the lock nearly done.

“Yes.” My face hardened. I snapped around to look at my village. “Things changed I can’t explain right now but you guys have to stick to your part and I to mine or we’re all dead.”

The best I could do was make it look like we didn’t know anything and make it appear like no one was missing. That was risky, considering I’d have to send Epp, our only ticket out of this out on their battle front with the rest of my people for the very purpose of being destroyed.


“Just trust me on this one ok?” I hissed, jumping back into the rafter to hide. “Gobber, Valka, protect Epp at all costs. I will take care of everything else. Ruff,” I made eye contact with the Thorston. “You know what to do.”

She set her jaw determinedly.

“Best of luck to ye, Lassie!” Gobber raised his one fist, speaking on behalf of everyone.

The doors opened to a red sun, blinding us with its light. I lay down flat as possible on the beam.

“Movere!” A soldier we knew as Felix gestured that the men and women come with him, while others sorted and kept the children back.

“I will find out what this is all about,” Ruff said, pointing an accusatory and very convincing finger at the man. “You’re commander just murdered one of your own over it. Think you’re safe?”

He grimaced and held his spear tighter. There was a crack to his voice as he spoke. “Movere!”


Half the village was out when Snotlout and his father came sauntering through the door. For once true to his word, Spitelout sucker-punched Gothi in the face.

“HA! That’s for feeding me Gobber’s remedy when I had the stomach flu!” He pointed vengefully as her heels flew over her head.

Snotlout pushed Fishlegs.

“Ow! What? Why me?”

“Because I’ve always wanted to actually fight you Fishlegs,” He bounced around showing off some footwork. “And now, you actually have to fight. No running and crying like a baby to Meat-WHHHAAAA!!!”

As Fishlegs rammed Snotlout into the ground Gothi came screaming like some wild animal at Spitelout, waving her staff in deadly throws.

“I’m Ruffnut and I can’t think of anything witty to say,” Tuff whimpered. “Also I smell like Sulphur. Hahahaha-OW!”

He got caught in the crossfire between Gothi and Spitelout.

Everyone else nodded.

“GET ‘EM!” They screamed, joining the dogpile.

“Quod prohibere!” The guards shouted repeatedly, jabbing their spears at the rioters. They refused to be so easily tamed, such as Gobber, who took the spear from a feeble Roman hand and conked him senseless with a head-bang.

In thirty seconds the scene had peaked to utter chaos, and that was my cue.


I hopped silently from the rafters and joined the mass taking the guard’s full attention. Perfect, I thought, slinking unnoticed around the throng to the front wall of the barracks. Epp’s shed was within sight and the second countdown between the overwhelmed soldiers and reinforcements was on. I just needed something to get me across without drawing attention…

A horse stood resting a leg and watching the fight from his spot by a trough. Untethering him I glanced both ways to be sure Justinian wasn’t nearby.


The animal started as I slapped him across the rump, nervously trotting across the courtyard toward the training domes. He continued by, head high tail up eyes wide and snorting, and I ducked behind the shed slamming my back against it’s wooden side.

“Dè? Cò tha ann?” Epp’s familiar voice said from inside.

“SHH!” I hissed, checking around the corner. No one was following, I’d made it through without a hitch.

“Epp!” I whispered, dropping the clothes on the ground. “Are you ok?”

“Yes...You are??” He asked, trying to remember what he learned of Norse.

“It’s Astrid I’ve come to get you out and rescue Hotshot.”

My grip tightened on the prybar. Thank you Caliban. I got to work on the side of the shed.

“Oh. Oh thank you, thank you!” He said excitedly between bursts of hyper-active Gaelic which involved Hotshots name about five times. “Hotshot! We go? Home? Yes! Good good goo-“

“Hush!” I snapped again.

The bar did its work. One of the wooden planks came loose and I caught it before it hit the ground. Straightening I stood face to face with they young man in the shed. He looked a bit pale, muddy and malnourished, but beaming with excitement.

Handing him the prybar I picked up Tuff’s clothes. “Here,” I shoved them at him and a rope fashioned into the Thorston’s hairstyle. He handed me back the prybar. “Put these on.”

He took one whiff of the clothes and coughed.

“Hurry up!”

“OK!” He grunted. “No shout.”

By the time I had the next plank out he’d transformed into a pretty convincing Tuff.

“Can you get through?” I gestured the opening. It took a bit of shimmying and some deep inhales but he managed.

“Tiugainn!” He staggered, intending to run but nearly falling instead.

“No you dope what’s the point of disguising yourself as another prisoner if we’re just going to make a break for it?” I yanked him back up. “Go back to the Vikings and pretend to be Tuff until I can get Hotshot to you.”

“Tuff,” he repeated, glancing down at the clothes.

“Yes. And don’t talk or it’s all over.” As I replaced the boards on the side of the shed, saying the words aloud made me realize how delicate a game this really was. Epp? Not talking? That’d be a miracle. “Is that even possible for you?”

He snorted and crossed his arms, going off on another long Gaelic rant. I slapped him… gentlyish.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t do that. We got one shot at this and so help me if you blow it I’ll strangle you!”

Eyes bulging he sucked in his lips.

“Good. Now get back there and don’t call unnecessary attention to yourself. I’m going to get your dragon.”

Booting him out into the open I waited.

The Tribe was simmering down as more guards very savagely put them in their place. Epp wandered toward them, glancing back at me once or twice.

“Grrrr!” I ducked behind the shed hoping no one noticed. What was I thinking sending him out there like that?

“Vos!” A soldier snapped harshly. “redeo hic! ”

I risked another look. Epp was being dragged back in with the rest of my Vikings.

“Hie sunt omnia Vikings,” the soldier said to another, tossing Epp into the mass. “Venite igitur!”

They’d taken the bait. As far as the Romans knew, no one was missing, and I was free to cause whatever trouble I could come up with.

My focus trained on the two turrets west of me, fists clenched. Time to pay, Alvin.







Two antennae relentlessly slapped together.

“I’m only saying I don’t know that I’m the man for this job,” Liam repeated. “You know how I feel about… reptiles.”

“That’s the spirit Mega,” Hiccup said, adjusting the dragon’s shell to the safest, most comfortable position he could get it into inside the big metal box… which was sitting up a tree rather precariously between two large oaken limbs. “I’m counting on you to keep that up. Now hold still…”


He caught the antennae just before they disappeared beneath the shell.

Grrr! Gr! Sssss! Mega objected, clawing backward.

Despite the dragon’s best efforts Hiccup easily pulled the two thin layers of metal off the antennae and held them apart.

“-You’re not listening…”

“I am listening but you don’t have any grounds. I didn’t pick you because you’re good with dragons Liam, I picked you because I couldn’t trust anyone more to do the job. I’m counting on you -and to a very very small extent Mush- to keep me alive long enough to grab that Piranharrow. Alright I’m going to let go. Hope no one’s swinging any deadly weapons down there!”

He released the two antennae and jumped out of the box, shutting the lid before the dragon had a chance to trigger another charge. He turned and sank in front of it.

“And don’t think I don’t know your trying to find a way to replace Myrddin as fake King.”


Before Liam could reply Heather appeared out of the canopy above on Windshear’s back. She looked at the box. “Is this not… a bit, hypocritical of you?”

He groaned. “It was the best I could do on short notice. He’s out of the weather, got soft blankets, fresh water, a whole stump filled with red ants it took me half the night to find that I hope will keep him occupied most the day.”

She put an ear to the wall. Mega was making happy ant-eating grunts.

“Listen to him he’s suffering!”

“What?” Hiccup put his ear against the container.

Happy crunching noises.

The Chief glared.

“Better take a peek just to make sure,” She barely had the door open an inch when Hiccup heard those antennae go thwack. She dropped the lid as everyone in the camp stopped, stared, and repeated the last thing they did.

“…Better take a peek just to make sure…” She began to lift the lid again.

“No no no no no,” Hiccup stopped her, pushing the tin hat on his head down a bit further. “Been there done that it’s working. Why don’t you go get your hat on?”

“…yeah…” She continued to blink. “I.. think I’ll do that.”


“Hiccup!” Myrddin rode up, looking stupid on his mule and in Artorījos royal robes. “You better get over there, the Romans are moving out.”

The Viking jumped from the tree. “I’m coming!”


“What?” He turned back to Mush, Liam and Heather.

Liam walked up and put his good hand out. “Best of luck to you, lad. Your father would be proud.”

He shook it, nodding gratefully.

Then out of the blue he gave the six-foot-ten celt as big a bear hug as a fishbone can give.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything.”



Men, horses and dragons paced restlessly at the edge of the forest. There was an unsettled murmuring among them.

“I miscalculated,” Pallus was the first to speak as Hiccup ran up. Preoccupied he didn’t think anything of the small pouch of something strapped to Pallus’ belt. “I’m sorry Chief.”

“What is it? What’s going on?”

“It’s not good, Hiccup,” Dagur sat gravely atop Sleuther holding a looking glass. “See for yourself.”

The Berkian Chief took it but even without its use he shuddered as he realized a dark ribbon was weaving from behind the garrison all the way around them.

“We’re trapped,” He muttered. “But that’s not all bad. They’re still sending out troops. Obviously they aren’t planning to use the Piranharrow on the field.”

“Look at the troops.” Camicazi fidgeted with her mindbender helmet much the same way as her dragon did.

He studied the cohorts going through the breach in the wall. In the front wearing rather sloppy Roman outfits and in complete disarray were men and women of all ages, shapes and sizes… none of which had weapons.

“Oh no they didn’t!” He hissed through clenched teeth, half relieved and half furious at what he was seeing.

“So those are you people?” The Queen said.

“Yes,” His stomach churned as it hit him that Astrid, his mother, Gobber, Fishlegs, Ruff, Tuff, and Snotlout were out there somewhere. “Those are my people. And those cowards are using them as human shields!”

“At least they’re still alive,” The King, dressed in basic chainmail looked less like King and more like an officer or knight. His horse snorted.

“Who knew the mimkoo darts would come in handy? Who knew we would want every drop those dragons were willing to give us?” Myrddin chortled two steps ahead of everyone else but quickly shut his mouth at a severe look from the Queen.

“INSENSITIVE as dear Myrddin is, he has a point,” She said. “We can dart them at half strength, haul them back here with the Gronckle dragon and they’ll revive within an hour. It’s better than getting caught in the crosshairs without a weapon.”

“Maybe. But we need those darts for if they use the dragons. And trust me my people want to fight as much as you do.”

“That’s not much,” someone muttered.

“Ok, more than you. WAY more. We should get weapons out to them; you’ll be surprised what they can do with an axe.”

“But if the Romans catch on they’ll just destroy them.”

Hiccup studied the approaching enemy. Just as Pallus had said, they were splitting off into three heavily armored, perfectly ordered cohorts, but what really caught his attention was what lay behind them.

“Our… dragons are at the rear,” He recognized a distant but distinct Stormcutter.

“We knew their use was a risk.”

“No you don’t get it. Our dragons are in the back, able to watch everything but probably not do anything while their people dressed in Roman uniform engage with you on the front…” He looked up at Artorījos. “The Romans aren’t using them as human shields; they’re using them to get our dragons to attack you by affiliating our loyalties with Rome! Ohhh those brilliant messed up people. Without Toothless to lead them that could work...”

“What should we do?” Leon asked, “If you want us to appear to be working under our own influence and not yours we’d definitely attack those Vikings.”

Hiccup thought fast. “The Queen is right darting them will be the best way to get them off the battlefield and into safety without blowing our cover. I think they won’t release our dragons until the people are ‘dead’, because the second the dragons get to them my people they will stop fighting you and turn on the Romans.”

“A calculated guess,” Artorījos nodded.

“When they release our dragons…” The Viking weighed his options. “… Send Hookfang out to do some damage, the dragons will recognize him. If he protects you and attacks the Romans they’re like to follow his lead.”

“And if they don’t?”

That was what worried Hiccup. Without Toothless he had no doubt Stormfly had taken temporary role as alpha, and Cloudjumper a close but very independent second. As much as they’d be pleased to see Hookfang they might clash over who should lead. “Just dart them, please? They’re good dragons and only want to protect their people.”

“I understand that sentiment but I must do the same for mine.” Artorījos said firmly.

“We’ll do our best, Chief Haddock,” Wynefreda finished on a softer note. “Lord be with you. Camicazi, I expect a report every half hour.”

“You can count on me,” The firecracker said, resisting the temptation to finish with a ‘most of the time’ or ‘if it suits me’.

Turning her golden horse Wynefreda rode close to Artorījos. They hugged.

“Thig air Ais thugam,” She said, her voice wavering. “Mas e do thoil e”

The Kings’ words were gentle. “Is e mo thoil. Tha gaol agam ort nas motha na beatha fhèin”

“Mar sin tha mo ghaol dhut” She whispered back. “Mar sin tha mo ghaol dhut”

Nudging the horse’s sides, she jumped into a canter and disappeared into the forest.

“How soon to our mark Leon?” The King asked, staring out at the army marching for them.

“They’re two thirds there, sire.”

“Sire shouldn’t I be riding Calesvol?” Mryddin asked with an averted gaze. “I mean, we really want to sell this don’t we?”

“Over my dead body.” He growled, unconsciously putting a hand on the neck of his rather ordinary, very bored looking brown horse.

“Ok, ok. The horse is off-limits. But I really should have something other than a mule.”

“Take Merdraut.” He gestured a big black Friesian to Myrddin’s side. “He’ll impress everyone and put you right in the crosshairs.”

“But- but that horse is evil!” The servant protested.

“It’s a horse, Myrddin. They’re not inherently good or evil.”

“He tried to kill me three times!”

“Well maybe fighting a common enemy will be a good bonding experience for you.”

“Three quarters, Sire.” Leon interrupted. “Light cavalry, on the offense. Enemy archers at ready.”

“Line up!” The King commanded and the restless string turned into an arrow-straight strip of ready soldiers.

“Camicazi,” Artorījos said with the slightest hint of trepidation. “to the sky.”

The Bog-burglar did a backflip onto her dragon, landing on her feet with her palms together in a bow. “With pleasure.” She said. “Have fun out there, Hiccup!”

And she was gone.

“Where are you going to head?” The King asked his servant.

It hadn’t been a full minute and already the sound of ‘Stormfly’s firebreath echoed across the valley.

“I was thinking right into the thick of it,” Myrddin beamed, pretending to be stupid again. Hiccup could tell by the whites of his knuckles the attitude was very much feigned. And by the way he jumped every time Merdraut snorted or pawed a hoof. “Get them excited and then lead them on a goose chase.”

“No. Stay somewhere in the middle, well-protected.”

“But that’s not-”

“That’s what they’d expect me to do Myrddin,” He cut him short. “Or what my father would do anyway, and that’s what Justinian knows. Let them work hard.”

“Yes Your Majesty.”

“Seven eighths Sire! Camicazi and the light Cavalry have engaged. It looks like she’s taken… five, horses down already, and some light damage to the middle cohort.”

The captain jumped down from his vantage point and got on his own animal.

Merdraut started forward but Artorījos caught his reigns. “And Myrddin,” He said, pulling the horse back. “Try not to get yourself killed.”



“Godspeed, Haddock!” Artorījos pulled his sword from its sheath. Leon at his right did the same, Myrddin to his left fumbled but eventually got it out.

“For Wotādīni!” The servant dressed as king yelled.

“For Wotādīni!” The King roared.

His rather bored, ordinary horse turned into a new animal. It reared, eyes flashing and a fiery snort in its nostrils.

“For Wotādīni!” The people shouted back. Dagur screamed the Berserker War-cry which was echoed back to him from the trees.

Lunging forward Calesvol lead a thunderous charge of four hundred hooves toward the enemy.

 Seconds behind them the first wave of infantry followed.


So it began.


“Haha! Yes! Go!” Myrddin tried to keep his wily horse back with the second wave and at the same time hold a sword. “Yes, hahahahahha heheh, eh heh, heh… I’m totally going to die.”

“You will if you walk into a fight like that.” Hiccup retorted. “Want my advice? Don’t fight like Artorījos. Fight like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah. Use this,” He tapped on his head then pointed the sword. “Instead of that.”

A light dawned in the eccentric young man’s head. He pulled the royal robe away, revealing an odd cluster of small, Sulphur-smelling objects around his belt. “Oh trust me I plan to.”

“Head’s up!”

“What the-!” Hiccup dove out of the way of what he HOPED was an unconscious Roman.

“Looked alive, Pallus! This one is for you.” Camicazi cooed.

“For armor?” Pallus looked the groaning man’s uniform over. “You got my size exactly! And… this is Marcus… if anyone cares.”

“Mmm not really.”

“Yeah I never liked Marcus.”

“Good Stormfly chewed him up a bit. Gotta go find someone your size, Hikke, it’s going to be a trick even in the Roman army.”

“You know you’re not so big yourself!” He shouted back as ‘Stormfly’ ripped through the air toward chaos. Camicazi laughed.

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020
The climax has begun!!

Awesome chapter! I really hope the Gryphon doesn't mess anything up.

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Thanks! ^^

No promises on that.

And uhh, as far as communication goes just assume that whenever the King is speaking directly to Hiccup it is being translated to Norse. Other times he can't understand and/or the other characters are only talking to each other. Just a note ^^

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Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
*Excited squeaking*

AH, IT HAS STARTED! 8D I'm really really glad we don't have to wait a whole week to find out what happens... Gah, I can't wait for more! This chapter was so good! (But poor Caliban... :'( And I'm worried about some of the others!)

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
*Joins squeaks* ^^

There is some validity to your concerns...


hehe thanks Ginger! I can't wait to post the next chapter! :D :D :D

Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 04/03/2020


LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

*Ghost Caliban slaps you*

"I'm somebody!!"




Ginger and Jaxomis's picture
Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
*Ghost Caliban has left the

*Ghost Caliban has left the chat*

Don't ask for deaths. o.o You should know that she will deliver. XD

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Art for chapter 45!

Ayyye check this out! Zestydragonwing just sent over this piece of artwork for chapter 45. I love it! She captured Ebony, and Selene so well!

Thank you!

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020
Oohhh, nice!

The composition is beautiful! The way Selene looms darkly and ominously above playful Ebony portrays just how tragic the latter's past was.

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

Ooh, nice long chapter.  I have a suspicion that Epp is gonna mess things up...  Also, what is in the pouch around Pallus's waist?  Is he a traitor after all...  0.o    Great job Lisa!

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020
-insert subject here-

Oh right, the mysterious pouch, I forgot to comment on that... What could that possibly be? Perhaps a super-secret something for in case things go horribly wrong?

Ginger and Jaxomis's picture
Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
Aw, Ebony...

That's a lovely piece! It really tells a lot, and I love Selene's pose and expression. And goofy little Ebony too, of course! Great job to ZestyDragonWing! ^^

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Stormy RoseDragon
Dragon Master
Joined: 11/13/2017
Rosethorn is cuddling my subject



Howdy do!
My pfp was made by
And more info on

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

Hi Rosethorn! Welcome to my fanfic, I hope you enjoy ^^



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The Dragoness
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 09/06/2017
Gosh, that artwork is stellar!


Awww...but...but CALIBAN!! D'8 I LIKED him, he was nice!!! Good job, you chose a character that was kind, relatable, and wouldn't affect the story if ki.lled. Well done, even though by battered heart doesn't necessarily agree...

ooohooooohhhhoohhhhhh Albion is going to be iinnnteresting >_> I will reserve judgement on what I think he might do...

Go go go! Can't wait for more!

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Ikr?? Zesty is aawwwsssoooommmmeeee :D :D :D

*Cue wicked writers' laugh* You understand the sacrifice x'D


...Albion shall instead judge you. He's good at judging, perfect face for it. B-)

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Chapter 47







When the Chips are Down

(Open to a bettle chapter title haha xD)




Albion screamed five very sharp and angry calls. He didn’t bother with the Shriek; it made no difference to… those things. Those tiny, terrible terrible things, that were beginning to circle the humans he had followed- and consequently him!

The Gryphon opened his wings and launched, heading west. There was still time. He could escape the closing circle of death if he left immediately at his fastest speed. With a lilt of his head and careful study with his favorite eye he saw his humans charging toward the other humans coming out of the wall, at the front of the line a familiar brown horse and flaxen haired rider.

Clack clack clack clack clack…

He tsked. The humans had gone too far and now they were paying for it. Besides it wasn’t any of his business anyways.



“Sir they’ve entered the battlefield.”

“Finally,” Justinian watched carefully, eyeing a feisty chestnut horse at the front. No, the rider was a common officer, and it was much too soon. Probably one of Artorījos Captains.

Rrrawk! Rraw-raaw. Rrrrawk!

Stormfly pulled against her chains. She knew she was angry; angry at being chained down, angry at seeing her human pack but not being able to go to them as they approached danger, angry that these Southerners were soooo… nice? It didn’t make sense. They did things an enemy would do but so kindly and gently. Did they have a good reason? Her girl wasn’t fighting them very hard. In fact Stormfly had smelled a very relaxed, almost friendly mood between Astrid and the gentle Southerner that sometimes rode her. Were they like Bog Burglars? Frenemies? She didn’t know.

Yet neither Astrid or the Friendly Southerner were anywhere to be smelled. There was a Viking out there that looked like her girl but you can’t fool a Nadder with looks.

Pull your chains, She sent a message. But don’t attack the Southerners… yet.

With grunts and hisses the other dragons followed her lead for the most part. Cloudjumper was a little testy. No matter what the cause he’d always fight a chain or cage and anyone who happened to be on the other side of it.


“Why did they give up so much ground?” The officer next to him asked. “Do you think they haven’t spotted the Piranharrow? That they don’t know they’re hemmed in?”

“Unlikely. They’ve probably got archers in the trees and want to lure the troops closer for a better shot.”

“Fools. Their arrows can’t pierce through our shields.”

“Sir, what is that thing?” an officer pointed to a large, golden feathered creature hovering indecisively over the forest.

“A gryphon. Looks like he got caught in Alvin’s death trap. Pretty uncommon but they still haunt these parts.”

“That would make quite the trophy.” One of the other officers said.

The first officer gave a vicious look to the second, silently staking his claim on the beast.

“Hmmm.” Justinian swept the field again with his eyes. Vibrant, multicolored wings shimmered in the early sunlight. The creature dove with impressive speed, effortlessly slaying one of the few Berber horses they had left.

“Send someone to tell Alvin,” The Commander spat, “That I hate being lied to. That Mimikoo is anything but stupid and awkward.”

“Sir,” Cyrus came running up. “A message from Alvin.”

Officers and Commander turned, exchanging glances.

“Well don’t just stand there what is it soldier?”

“He said: ‘that’s not a Mimikoo.’”

Justinian grit his teeth. “We’re going to need the catapults.”

“As requested they are standing by, sir.”



A Rocket Ripper. Very rare, those were, even in the Barbaric Archipelago. So what was one doing all the way out in Votadini? Alvin studied suspiciously. Could it be that lunatic Bog-Burglar he’d heard stories about? She was said to have an affiliation with the Berkians. Very suspicious her showing up here, for THIS battle. Did she somehow find out what had happened to Berk?

He looked down at the weaponless Hooligan Tribe caught between battling soldiers. Good. She wasn’t trying to help them. It must be a coincidence after all…

But was the green Gronckle making disturbing trips back and forth with fallen soldiers a coincidence as well?

OF COURSE. He was over thinking it. He was overestimating his enemy. A dead enemy no less. Gronckles lived everywhere, were very docile for dragons, and If Myrddin had learned to train the Mimikoos he ought to easily be able to train a Gronckle. Of course, of course. Nothing to worry about.

Hotshot eyed him with concern.




“When Astrid said ‘stick to the plan’ I wonder if she knew they were leading us onto the battlefield to be wiped out by Celts! Celts I tell you, Celts!”

“Tha seo air sgàth gun do bhruidhinn mi cus nach e,” Were the only words out of a rather pale looking and silent Epp.

“I wish Hiccup was here,” Fishlegs staggered in the general direction they were pushed, turning circles. “He’d find a way to make peace with the Wotādīni, or- or- turn their dragon to be on our side, or reason with the Romans, or something! Me, I can’t think of anything!”

“Get ahold of yourselves laddies, we’ve fought our way out of tighter scrapes.”

“Yeah! With dragons and weapons! You don’t even have two hands Gobber!”

“Who says you have to to inflict damage Snotlout?” The wily old Viking grinned. “I once wrestled an angry mother bear and won.”

“That must be the story of how you LOST your arm.”

“At this point I prefer to get my hands dirty,” Valka glanced back at the soldiers prodding them on with ice in her heart. “Everything these people have done has been personal. I’m happy to return the favor.”

“But we’ll die!” Fishlegs face went ash white. “There’s like fifteen hundred people in this field, and a Rocket Ripper. We’re only two hundred!”

“Hey if we hidefighting fifteen hundred people with our bare hands that’s a sure ticket to Valhalla. I’m good with that.”

“Ooo, that’s a good point sis- Chief! I mean Chief. This might be your only chance to enter Valhalla Fishlegs, I’d take it if I were you.”

“If you weren’t dressed up as Ruff,” Ingerman seethed.

“Nobody is going to hidetoday,” Gobber turned the tide of the conversation toward something more constructive because the last thing he wanted on the battlefield was panic. “None of us, anyway. Have a little faith in Astrid! She’s got the hard job, all we have to do is-“

A dart hit him in the neck. He plucked it out and stared, everyone else watching in horror.


The one armed, one legged Viking smiled sweetly and fell on his face. About the same time the colorful dragon sped over to pour fire down on an unfortunate member of the light cavalry.

“Poison darts!” Snotlout squeaked, pointing.

Seconds later a whole shower of darts hit them!

“We’re all going to die!!!!” Fishlegs screamed as Vikings dropped like flies, Gothi, Gustav,  Eret among them. Valka caught Epp by the arm and yanked him to her side. Turning savagely on the soldiers behind, she obtained a sword and began to inflict damage with one hand and protect the bewildered Celt with her other. Snotlout ran forward chucking rocks in the general direction of the darts, and Tuff yanked one of the shields right off a soldiers’ arm.

Ruff leant down to Gobber as Wotādīni horses and riders rushed by, swords swinging as they tested the discipline of the cohort behind the Vikings. Their infantry wasn’t all that far behind them

“Head for the Celts!” Spitelout ran headfirst toward the enemy of his enemy. “At least we can go out with a fight; they won’t use darts on their own people!”

“Thanks for the advice Gobber but I really want that ticket. RRRRAAAAAHHHHH” She charged into the fray, “I REGRET SOME THINGS!”




“Commander! The Wotādīni are firing poison-darts from the trees.” A relayed message came in on horseback.

Rrrawk! Raw-raw- raawwk!”

Justinian looked to the dragons.

“Are they shooting the Vikings?”

“Yes sir. Many have already fallen. If the fire they were taking remained the same nearly half should be down by now.”

He smiled at the fire breathing beasts in distress. “Perfect. Riders saddle up.”

Soldiers who had trained under Caliban and the Vikings were waiting downwind and out of sight of the dragons. Now they rushed toward them, appearing to be getting ready to aid the Vikings in distress. Except for Cloudjumper, the Berkian dragons greeted the ‘friendly’ Southerners with surprise and hope, unable to imagine the depths of treachery these humans were capable of.

Rrrawk? Stormfly glanced around as the rest of the dragons were saddled up. Where was Caliban?

“The archers have taken nearly a hundred of our own men too, sir. Should we launch the catapults?”

“On my command. I will hold out just a little longer to ensure most of the Vikings are down.”

“And of the dragons out there?”

“Kill the colorful one if you can. As for the Calming dragon ignore it the thing is only going after bodies. No point wasting men and energy there.”

“…What do you think they’re doing with those bodies?”

“I don’t know and don’t care.”

“Sir!” another officer shouted. “Artorījos has been spotted!”

The Commander spun on his heels with the look of a tiger in his eyes. “Where?”

“Second front, infantry, South. Heavily guarded with fifty men and ten riders, they look like Knights.”

The Legionnaire extended his spyglass and studied the area directed.

“There you are,” He said barely over a whisper, watching the man atop a splendid black Fresian. If at all possible, he’d take the horse alive. “On my command, have cohort three drive through and split the front to the South.”


Justinian gave the man a knowing look. “He’s got nowhere to run and we’ve got time. We’ve also got Vikings to finish off so we can get these dragons in the sky.”

“Yes sir.”







Swords clashed as horses danced a deadly game. Footwork was everything and Calesvol knew it; he held up his end of the battle beautifully, never once tripping over a rock or into a mole hole.

Artorījos conked the hilt of his sword over the enemy’s helmet. He grinned fiercely as the Roman cried out in frustration. Blinded, he swung his blade wildly as his horse ambled off in a senseless direction.


Albion?? The king looked to the west with surprise.

“Sire!” Leon finished off the soldier he was battling. Afton was just taking off in another direction.

Artorījos turned Calesvol, who struck out at a legionary trying to run by, hitting the man in the stomach.

“A report from Myrddin.”

“How are they holding out?”

“Surprisingly well so far. Myrddin’s even taken an officer.”

That was a surprise.

“Camicazi says they’re readying to fire the catapults.”

“What’s their target?”

“The trees, Sire. Possibly Camicazi and the gronckle as well.”

As the Captain spoke he and the King both watched a small cluster of farmers-turned-soldier bearing down on a testudo, no knowledge that the men beneath were carrying not just swords but crossbows.

“Well tell her to do something about it!” He snapped the reigns and Calesvol beelined it for the testudo. “Warn Wynefreda!”




Who to attack next? Camicazi glided almost leisurely over the battle.

Fishlegs ran into a team of archers just ducking out of the cohort.

“Virga! Virga!” The leader said, wildly pulling his bow taught as the Rocket Ripper came at them.

Instinct kicked in for the Ingerman. “No stop!” he said, pulling the nearest man’s crossbow off-course.

Deadly arrows sailed through the sky- true to their aim but miserably failing. Not a single one hit its mark as the creature gracefully danced between them.

“Stultus!” The man hit him, knocking him to the ground as he set another arrow.

“No don’t! Please!”

The Roman aimed point blank.

“My turn!” Someone said in Norse.

Fishlegs looked up to see the Rocket Ripper’s eyes glittering with vicious vindication. She spewed fire down upon the archers, crisping every one without singing a hair on the Berkian’s head.

“You’re welcome, Fishface.” The Bog Burglar smiled and flew off.

“Wait.” Fishlegs stumbled to his feet.

He just stood there, forgetting he was in the midst of a battle, mind numb.

Camicazi? She was HERE??? How? Why?

As if in a dream he stared at all the people around him, fighting for their lives. He could hear someone lying on the ground about twenty yards away groan, and then, that bumblebee sound of wingbeats. A green gronckle already carrying three other people in its paws gently plucked the injured soldier up and carried him away toward the trees.

He looked to his left.


Clic- click-click!

Went the distinct sound of a Tryple Stryke preparing to do what it did best. Just as distinct was the Berserker whoop to accompany.

He looked to his right.

Sleuther… Dagur?

Two Roman soldiers were running along the edge of the battlefield; toward the Garrison. One was small even for a Roman, had a peg-leg, a sword in his hand and on his shoulder was a…


Fishlegs blinked. He didn’t even notice as a Roman soldier ran into him, slipping and falling in the mud. He swallowed the dryness in his throat.

A purple Terrible Terror. A peg-leg. A purple, Terrible Terror. A peg. Leg. A… purple…


“Em, quid?”

“Trooper,” Fishlegs repeated. “That’s Trooper. And if that’s Trooper then-“

The light dawned and Fishlegs Ingerman made one of the happiest faces ever made in Viking history.

“HICCUP!” he shrieked, knocking the Roman at his feet out as he raised his arms. “I KNEW YOU WERE ALIVE! I KNEW IT!”

“Oh no, poor Fish is dying.” Tuff said while poking and beating a Roman with his own shield and spear. “He’s seeing Hiccup at the end of a tunnel.”

“What?? Congrats Fishman! Gotta say I never, never believed you’d make it to Valhalla.”

“No you muttonheads I’m not dying, I saw Hiccup! Can you believe it? He’s here to rescue us!! And he’s not alone. He’s working with-“

Something poked him in the back of the arm.

“Aww man!” The Ingerman succumbed to the venom, with a splat joining the soldier he’d knocked out.

“With who? Loki?” Tuff dropped the shield on the Roman and ran over and shook the unconscious Ingerman. “It was Loki wasn’t it! He joined the dark side!” Tuff straightened and elbowed Ruff. “Knew he had it in him.”

“Uhhhh, Tuff,” Ruff pointed to a rather small Roman peg-leg with a purple terror on his shoulder.

“Dang it, we’re dead too!” Tuff threw the spear in the mud.





Trooper’s teeth chattered. His claws dug so deeply into Hiccup’s armor they were making pinprick dents.

No big deal The Chief told himself between huffs, following close behind Pallus. We’re running along the edge of a Roman battle, my people in the thick of it without weapons as I run headlong with an ex-soldier a sword and a terrible terror into the Garrison holding four thousand other soldiers to look for a coward who will destroy us all if he knows I’m here. What could go wrong?


“Fishlegs?” he slid to a stop. Trooper squeaked, nearly falling.

Searching the fight Hiccup spotted Fishlegs just as he kneeled to the dart’s toxin.


“Keep moving!” Pallus yanked him back on track.

“That’s my friend he’s in danger!”

“We’re ALL in danger if you don’t get Hotshot away from Alvin, your friend too!”

As if to sooth Hiccup’s worry Shattermaster made his way toward the unconscious viking.

An officer on horseback shouted over the men, riding right in front of Pallus and Hiccup. They froze in their tracks. ““Move toward the southern front! Justinai-“

The man stopped mid-way and stared.


“Umm, no?” The Roman tried.

Hssssss! Trooper arched his back.

Turning to Hiccup the color in the officer’s face drained as he saw the dragon and his missing foot. “You’re that Chief,”

No! It was too early!

“Y-your that chief!”

“Trooper do your thing.” Hiccup said quietly.

The dragon blinked, trying to remember what thing to do.

With split second decision the officer prompted his horse into a rear. Hiccup barely escaped deadly and purposeful hooves aiming at his head.

“Now Trooper!” He shouted, the horse back down on all fours. He blocked a strike from the man’s sword.

The Terrible Terror shot a fireball into the sky.

Distracted by the urgency of getting the signal up Hiccup missed a beat. The officer caught him by the shirt collar.


“What was that? What did you just do?”

“An experiment,” Pallus cued the man’s horse to rear up again. Caught off guard and off balance the officer came right out of the saddle.

“To see if we’ll survive this day or not.”



Justinian stared out at the flame. “What is that?”

The Captain at his right shook his head, perplexed.


“Stormfly,” Camicazi smoothed her helmet down further. “Trust me, ok?”


From his safe, comfortable vantagepoint Alvin glowered, eyes fiercely searching for the responsible party of the flare shot while that gnawing feeling he’d had since Scullion gnawed some more. He focused the looking glass on a soldier one of the officers had by the shirt collar.


“That’s the signal!” Liam and Mush said at the same time. “Open the hatch, Mush!”

Balancing precariously Mush reached for the pulley. The door opened just a teensy tiny crack.

Mega, enjoying the solace of darkness while at an all-you can eat ant buffet growled. Up went the antannae.






Tuff looked down at his feet. “Hey cool a spear.”

“Uhh what happened to Fishlegs?”

“I dunno.” Tuff shrugged. “Am I my Viking’s keeper?”




Justinian blinked. What… what was he staring at? He shook his head, feeling strange. What was he even thinking about?? It was like the last few minutes had just vanished.

He soon forgot all about that as something truly terrifying happened in the sky.


Alvin watched two soldiers talking with an officer, pointing toward the enemy.

…Why was he watching this? There were far more important things at hand. He shook his head… and looked back at Hotshot.

The dragon was staring at him blank-faced.

“Was that brain-fart on you?” The Outcast asked accusingly, not even seeing the disturbing disarray of the swarm outside. He turned to face the battlefield once more, settling his focus on the royal robes of Artorījos and the closing Romans. “Well I’m going to blame it on you anyways.”

Hotshot spat his objection.




The Chief held his breath. The swarm. The swarm was out of sinc; badly out of sinc. Small as they were and as far, he could still see how they struggled to fly as one… how they ran into each other and fell or spun out of control to avoid running into each other. It was like they were flying blind.

Liam had been right on the money; Piranharrow did communicate via the same waves Mindbenders could disrupt.

“…What just happened?” The officer stared at Hiccup. Trooper hid just out of sight behind him while Pallus easily avoided eye-contact by staring up at the Piranharrow. The Chief thought fast.

“I was clumsy, sir. I’m sorry I stepped in front of your horse and he threw you.”

Face distorting, the man struck Hiccup against the cheek hard.

“You peg-legged idiot! Get back to fighting Wotādīni and pray that you hideon the battlefield!”

“Yes sir, right away,” He nodded, hastening away this time dragging Pallus, quietly and as unsuspiciously as possible.

The officer mounted his animal and looked to the cohort. “To the South!” He guided his horse. “The King has been spotted!”


“I can’t believe that worked!” Pallus was more animate than Hiccup had ever seen him. “Even on the Piranharrow! Chief, we just might have a shot at this!”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence! Now lets get off this field before anything else happens.”

Ginger and Jaxomis's picture
Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
*Screaming resumes*

Man, my heart was in my throat the whole time I was reading this one! o.o' Don't get discovered again, Hiccup!!


You made the twins so in-character! Ruff's "I REGRET SOME THINGS!" Was probably my favorite. Or Tuff's "Dang it, we're dead too!" XD


I'm very much looking forward to the continuation. 8D Very, very much.


(I think When the Chips are Down is fine, but you could also call it something like Mission Implausible: Take One)

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
I have done my duty as an author

...Mmmuuuuuuaahahahahahahaha- Hmm!


Thankies! Oo and thanks for the title ideas. I stared blankly at the screen like ten minutes trying to come up with a title today :P

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

Awesome suspensful chapter!  Can't wait for the next one!   I think the title is fine as it is, but you could call it "when the chips are played" or "when the cards are down/played". 

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

Ohh I like the cards idea better than the chips. Might use that. Thank you! ^^

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020
So suspenseful!!

Man, Fishlegs came way too close to spoiling everything, but I'm so glad it's all working out so far!!

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

It was kinda close... but there's a lot of noise Alvin and Justinian wouldn't have heard him over everything else, even if they could remember

Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 04/03/2020


LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
*pushing characters off the hill*



As You Wish GIFs - Get the best GIF on GIPHY

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

Oh my goodness!  My family and I love that movie.

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

T'is a classic xD

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020
Ahhhhh I love that movie!!!!

We recently introduced my brother to it so he wouldn't be so confused whenever we quote it XD


Also, the actors did an amazing job at believably tumbling head over heels down that hill without hurting themselves.

Ginger and Jaxomis's picture
Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
Me too!

My family loves that movie as well. ^^


And those would be their stunt doubles taking a tumble. They wouldn't dare risk their actual actors getting hurt by rolling down a rather steep hill. XD

AMAZIEing's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 12/29/2018

I heard somthing about tumbling down a cliff and my first thought was "Princess Bride"? XD Sure enough, I was right. 

I really like the movie. I remember when I was younger (and stuill sometimes now) I would fall down a cliff saying as you wish. On literally any cliff that looked like this one in anyway... XD

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Chapter 48




Chapter Forty-Eight



A Servant's Loyalty





Toothless stirred, opening his eyes.

What was that?

He’d been subconsciously listening to the strange events happening around the Southerners’ hive all morning. He knew some of them had gone out reeking of confidence to fight with a people who smelled like the land. Elsewhere within the hive itself was a different mood entirely. It had spread right about dawn, a very nervous edge among most of the omega Southerners. A nervous, or perhaps rebellious edge. Why? He wasn’t sure. He’d smelled blood about that time but that could have been anything.

Now a war was raging and he could hear his dragons trying to join it. Why didn’t they? Were they stuck? Why did they want to fight?

The dragon keened restlessly, licking his lips. For a week he’d been stuck here in the arena without food and making due with muddy rainwater. At least he had good company… sort of. Griseomus hadn’t yet succeeded in starving the fury into killing and eating the red and black Scuttleclaw, who was ignorant of his dire situation.

“I can’t believe the stubbornness of this dragon!” the trainer hissed under his breath, watching the Scuttleclaw chew on his should-be-killer’s ear. The fury snarled, slinking away. He wanted nothing to do with the spunky Scuttleclaw that he knew he couldn’t get attached to.

“He’s as bad as Stultus was. When will that survival instinct kick in??”

“You ever think that maybe, just maybe, killing other dragons isn’t part of their survival instinct?”

The man slowly turned on his subordinate.

“Tacitus, look down there.” He pointed into the ring.

“For wha-AHHH!”

The two hungry dragons snapped their heads around, eyes slits as the soldier fell into the mud with a splat.

“Tell me what you think of their survival instinct when you get out, will you?” He scribbled something in his notepad as the Scuttleclaw gave chase. It was to his disappointment but not surprise, half-hearted. The Scuttleclaw was more interested in slapping the helpless enemy human into his rightful, humbled place than eating him. He had better taste than that.

Toothless on the other hand didn’t even bother. He was weary of all the fighting. So very, very weary. There was no point and even if he did destroy an evil human another one would replace it. Half of him wondered if the only good humans in all the world lived in Berk.

“We’re all going to die!!”

There! He heard it again and there was no mistaking. That was the round Vikings voice!

A mighty leap and Toothless was clinging to the chains on the top of the dome, sniffing wildly and listening intently. What were they doing to that Viking? That Viking was his boys best friend! If he ever got his paws on them…

His teeth abjured with a throaty growl.

“Oh where’s that attitude in the ring, Aerthirn?” Griseomus facepalmed. “Look that’s not your fight! You get to have your battles on a stage with fans cheering you on. Wealthy fans. Powerful fans. Wealthy fans.”

The Chief’s dragon refused to even look his way, but spat an ugly word in dragonese.

“...grrr every quality of the greatest Imperial I could ever train but so bone headed I can’t train him!”

“Does that mean training is over? Ow!” The Scuttleclaw sat on the soldier in the ring, ripping his helmet off and searching his head for bugs. “Can I come out now?”

“No. You stay down there until one of them eats you.”






Toes stretched to their fullest. The fury rolled over, swatting air as she dreamt of flying rabbits.


Her ears twitched at the sound of splitting wood.


After eleven hours the wagon finally caved. Ebony shot her head up in surprise, baffled. Now who would be so rude to smash her box?

Peeking out the canvas she looked around the camp. Hmm. No one. Silly humans. Probably out playing in the field, causing all that annoying screaming and neighing and metal clashing against metal while she tried to sleep. Successfully tried… until now, anyways.

Her eyes turned hungry as her nose caught a whiff of fish. Ooo! There was one right outside the wagon! It smelled like Hiccup had touched it. He probably forgot it…

Noisily wriggling out she slurped the creature up with one lick. Her nose twitched again.

Ooo! Another! And antoher! And another, and another…

With pleased trills she followed the fishy trail, making her way toward Mega, and thus relevant safety.







Hiccup slammed his back against the brick wall, gasping for breath. Nothing like sprinting across a warzone to get your cardio up.

“You there!” The guard above them snapped. “Get back out there or we’ll shoot!”

“Don’t shoot!” Pallus raised his hands. “We have a message for Justinian! We found this little dragon on the battlefield, see?”

Hiccup raised Trooper up. At the higher point he was conveniently within range of the water gate.


“So?!? This creature was with the Viking Chief when he was marooned on Skullion! If the dragon is here…”

He let them think instead of guard.  They gasped in horror.

“Signal, Trooper,” Hiccup whispered to the dragon, then pointed the gate. “Then, fire!”

Scree! The little terror said, cheerful to be of help. He spat a flare-shot into the sky.

“What did he just do???” They held their spears fearfully.

“Called to his master, no doubt,” Pallus said gravely.

Spitting two more fireballs Trooper blew the hinges off the water gate. It flowed a short distance downriver before sinking to the bottom.

“Oh no he blew out the gate!” Hiccup gasped, less than convincing.

“What do we do?!?”

“Tell Justinian you fools!” Pallus roared and ducked back under the cover of the wall at the same time as Hiccup.

“Ok we w-“

The guards had turned but stopped in their tracks. They stared at each other.

“What are you looking at?” One snapped.

“What are you looking at? Watch the battlefield soldier!” The other shot back.

Hiccup and Pallus grinned. Just as they planned, the soldiers had no clue of the gate’s loss. Now all they had to do was get through without being spotted.







A Roman soldier cried out as the earth next to him exploded. Sword sheathed, Myrddin held three or four more of his Armordrillo-inspired explosives in one hand and a small torch in the other. He was lighting one even as the first went off.

“Maleficis artibus!” The man cried. “Tu maleficus!”

“There are those who call me… Tim?”

He threw the next one. This time it didn’t miss.

“No one calls you Tim!” Afton snarled, fending off a vehement cavalryman. He struck a deep wound to the soldier’s side and he crumpled from his horse to the ground.

“Pfft like you would know. I go by many names, Lord Afton.”

“Ooo like- LOOK OUT!”

“Look out? No like-“

Afton launched himself in front of Myrddin, stopping four arrows with his shield.

“Like You Idiot!” the Knight hissed. “Myrddin if we want to live we must retreat. The fighting is too heavy!”

“You may be right.” Myrddin nodded, turning the horse hard. They rode only about fifty paces before meeting with another section of the cohort, the one they were just fleeing from close on their heels.

“We must break through!” A knight shouted, swinging his blade wearily. “They’re trying to cut us off!”

“It’s no use!” Another said, just as tired. “We’re too late.”

Myrddin looked beyond their current situation to what lie between them and their allies, a third of a cohort. Pallus had been right, Justinian did find them. He looked back at the knights growing sloppy in fatigue. “You knew as well as I did that it could come to this. We just have to last as long as we possibly can; and I think we’ll last longer charging forward. Are you with me?”

“Yes sir,” Afton nodded both the servant’s loyalty and courage. “For the King.”

“For the King!” the five knights still standing repeated.

As they rushed forward, Merdraut jumped and kicked his heels up for no reason except being a testy jerk.

“Ooo you nasty horse.” Myrddin tensed and pulled the reins taught. “At least I can take solace in knowing you’ll hidewith me.”








A light cavalry rider came up on winded horse. There was a cruel look in his eye. “Vikings are down. Only a remnant remains.”

Justinian handed the looking glass to his second in command. “Launch the catapults.”

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

Three shouts echoed further down the wall. Three catapults launched, and three large boulders hurtled toward the forest’s edge.

“Set the first dragons loose!”

His timing was as ever, perfect. The Commander strode down to where the Roman riders had only just finished saddling. Three took their weapons and broke the chains of three dragons; Skullcrusher, Fanghook and Kingstail. Although free and very much ready to exact justice the Berkian beasties waited for the riders to mount before taking to the sky, heading without guidance straight for the Wotadini.

“It worked,” A captain shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know how Griseomus does it.”

“Simple. Look at them like intelligent, feeling creatures then exploit that intelligence and feeling.” The Legionnaire grunted.  Works exactly the same on people.



“Incoming! Get down!” Wynefreda shouted, abandoning the higher limbs of the trees. Her archers were quick to listen, jumping wherever they had a chance. Shattermaster zoomed by with an assortment of unconscious Wotādīni, Vikings and Romans, grunting nervously.

Wind hissed as a massive projectile flew over her head, clipping the tops of the branches of her tree, and obliterating the trees behind it.

“We’re hit we’re hit!” Someone shouted over moaning timber and splitting trunks. Two more boulders were quick to join the chaos.

Those lucky enough to have been missed hurried to the rescue of the not so lucky, but even as they worked to get them free they were besieged again.

“Your Majesty we’re been compromised. The Southern quarter has been cut off, the troops cannot hold the line, and we’re sitting ducks for those catapults. Where shall we go?” Sir Robin asked as they both helped to pull up on a large limb. Digging through the leaves two other archers took a groaning farmer out from under it.

Roars and new cries of terror resounded in the valley. The Queen looked to the battlefield; Camicazi and her dragon were nowhere to be seen but three new dragons had joined the fight.

“They’ve released some of the Berkian dragons,” She rushed to her horse who had been equipped with a travois, untethering it and leading it toward the wounded. “It’s only a matter of time before they’re all out. We must protect the troops and the dragons from each other. Robin take whoever can still fight and whatever darts we have left and run cover for the north infantry’s retreat.” She swallowed back her fears. If she knew Artorījos at all, he’d be right in the thick of that retreat, protecting the stragglers. “I’ll take the injured to safety and have Heather send Hookfang out.”

“Yes my Queen.” He bowed.





Rrrawk! Rawwk rawwk Rawwwk! Stormfly strained. Skullcrusher, Fanghook and Kingstail were mercilessly dishing out everything they had on the Wotādīni soldiers. Everything except their firepower, that is. The Romans weren’t that trusting of them yet.

Another courier rode up, spoke to a Captain and rode back out.

“Sir Artorījos party has sustained heavy damage and the men are closing on him as we speak.”

“Get a saddle.” Justinian gestured Stormfly. “I’m going to try my luck with this flying war machine.”

And perhaps, he thought smugly, Make an awe-inspiring impression on Artorījos… before I take his life!





If Alvin was a cat he’d be purring.

Things were going exactly how he wanted them to. The Vikings were all but gone, and that fool of a legionnaire Justinian was headed out to his doom on Stormfly to slay Artorījos. He couldn’t have asked for anything better. All he had to do was decide where he ought to stand for as many Wotādīni to see him as possible, effortlessly sending the wonderful Piranharrow to their rescue and taking vengeance on the man who killed their King. That knoll just outside the wall looked pretty good.

“Is my horse ready Cyrus?”

There was no answer.

“…Cyrus?” Alvin turned apprehensively.

Footsteps lumbered up the tower staircase. He hissed the Piranharrow awake, ordering a distress call to the others.

“Sir!” Cyrus’ distinct voice rang up from below. Alvin relaxed and called the dragons off. “Your ploy worked!

“My ploys always work. …To which do you refer?” He finished suspiciously.

Cyrus entered the upper room. “Setting up guards at the other turret. Look who we found trying to fight her way in!”

Three soldiers, two of which had black eyes and the other a broken nose shoved their prisoner bound and tied at Alvin’s feet.




“Is my horse ready, Cyrus?” That condescending voice snapped in Latin. I grimaced in fury. I’d just taken on- and beaten- twenty Roman soldiers only to find out I had the wrong turret.

“You don’t want to do this,” I tried again in Latin. “You know he’s only using you people, just like mine. Let me end him and take the Piranharrow I promise we will leave only with our dragons.”

“Ooo,” The soldier bearing down on my right arm scoffed. “How generous.”

“We COULD take your lives. All of them AND without the help of the Piranharrow. I’m giving you a one-time deal here,” I shot back. “Let me go now, and we will leave you alive… which is more than Alvin promises.”

Too late. We’d reached the top of the stairs.

The soldiers launched me before Alvin who I looked up at with deathly hatred.

“Well. I’d like to say it’s a surprise and a pleasure but...”

“Yeah nice trick. No one would ever guess you’d have the guts to go anywhere without a body guard.” I jeered.

“What, bodyguards? These back-stabbing oafs?” He laughed in Norse, knowing they wouldn’t understand. “I’d sooner have an adder do the job… Chief Haddock.

I started, but the snake knew me too well. He kept out of reach just long enough for the soldiers to pin me down again.

“Trying to take dear Hotshot from me, I presume?” He commanded the dragon to his shoulder and caressed it. “To take control of the swarm and rescue the Hooligan Tribe, no doubt?” The outcast shook his head in mock pity. “You poor fool. You’re fighting for a lost cause! Look down there and see. The people are gone.”

Usually this was the part where I’d spit in his face, but I was forced to the window and couldn’t help but look.


Beyond the wall the battle raged. Little clusters of those Wotādīni people were fighting and losing to masses of Roman troops… and our own dragons.

“Do you see anything of your people?”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” I clenched my fists and my teeth, searching desperately for a sign while doing my best to maintain my composure and not let Alvin see me waver.

“Mmmm perhaps. Your dragons suddenly seem to have a bone to pick with those Celts though,” He pointed out. “And they’ve had a very nice view of the drama unfolding.”


Golden-blue wings flashed by.

“Stormfly!” I said- to quiet and too late. Even at the top of my lungs she couldn’t hear me over the din of battle.

My heart tore. It was only a moment but I saw the confusion, fear and anger in her body language as she took off with Justinian on her back.

“Pity, such a pity.” Alvin sighed. “Have to say, you were close to success, maybe about a wrong turret’s worth. And yet that’s the second time in two months a Haddock lost their entire village.”

“RRRRAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” I shrieked, unhinged. Even bound and tied it took all four soldiers to pin me down again. “I will kill you, Alvin, slowly, and painfully for everything you’ve done.”

“Pfft you and anyone else who survives.” He snorted, a truly vile look in his eyes as he turned away from us and continued in Norse. “That’s why I’m making sure no one does. Not your people, the children, the dragons, the furies, Justinian, Artorījos, or the entire Ninth Legion. It will be like,” He angled himself to a profile, looking ponderously up with a finger to his chin. “Like they vanished, without a trace. Quite the feat don’t you think? An entire legion disappearing. One for the history books.”

My eyes widened. The sheer, conniving evil of this man was only now becoming clear. He had planned everything to the T and he was going to get away with it. “You’re sick, Alvin,” I said for lack of better words.

“Sick of hearing your voice. Let’s start with you.”

He switched back to Latin. “Take her away and destroy her.” He pointed. “Outside my window. I must witness it with my own eyes. And be advised she’ll say anything to save her own neck.”

As they dragged me away I fell silent.

“What, no witty comebacks, Astrid? I’m surprised you of all people are afraid of death.”

I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m just grateful I never had a mind like yours.”

His face hardened and he turned to the window yet again. “Goodbye, Chief and last of the Haddocks. With your last breath I will complete a vow to vengeance made twenty years ago.”





Where was she? Where was she?!? Stormfly scanned the field without success. Not among the fallen or the fighting was her girl… and this jerk on her back really knew how to push her around. When she was through with the Celts she was going to give him a lesson or two about how to treat a dragon.

The Commander had her land in a circle of slain horses and knights. A whole mass of soldiers guarded the area from the outside, while six guarded one shrimpy looking celt in eye-catching garb from within. As her talons dug into the ground she barred her teeth and raised her tail. This was one of the humans that had attacked her humans. This was the enemy.


Justinain swung off the Nadders’ back landing squarely on his feet.

“Good work taking him and the horse alive.”

Soldiers holding the reins of the big black Friesian stood just a little taller and prouder, unanimously choosing not to tell him how the horse willingly surrendered himself and his rider.

“King Artorījos,” He strode forward speaking the Celtic tongue, arms folded.

“In the flesh,” The servant dressed as King bowed, “Is there something I can do for you?”

The Commander grit his teeth. He looked him up and down. “You’re a lot smaller than I imagined for the son of Carausius.”

He wasn’t exactly the spitting image of him, either. In fact Justinian struggled to see any resemblance.

“Oh well father always blamed that on the time I spent in books. Believed it stunted my growth.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“Can’t say you dropped your name.”

“Justinian ring any bells?”

“Justinian… Justinian…” Myrddin rolled it around on his tongue. He made a face like he remembered, putting a finger up, then let it down again. “Yeah… nnnno. No, no. There was this one guy father spoke of but he was supposed to be intimidating.”

The Commander twitched as a thought occurred. “Get him his sword. We’re going to spar.”

“Sir!” The captain gaped. A legionnaire putting his life on the line when they had the enemy dead to rights was… well unheard of. But one look from Justinian and he practically thrust the weapon back into the fake-king’s hands.

“Unwise Commander,” Myrddin unsheathed the blade with what he hoped looked like confidence. “Giving this back after slaying my knights. My skills with the broadsword are legendary.”

“I know.” The Roman growled, and swung his weapon.

Myrddin raised his own in defense. Swords clashed, and the servant spun in an out-of-control, three-sixty circle, coming to a stop only to be faced with another attack he couldn’t defend against. He gasped in pain, sinking to his knees as Justinian’s blade found him.

It had been the most basic attack and King Artorījos had neither the strength or cunning to evade it, swiftly putting any doubts to rest in the Legionnaire’s mind.

“If you had any skill then I might be convinced you actually were the son of Carausius!” The man roared with frustration, withdrawing his blade. “Get the cohort out of here this is not Artorījos. The coward’s hiding elsewhere!”

He knocked the crown… and mindbender hat off Myrddin’s head, taking him by the hair. “Any ideas where that might be?” His eyes glinted.

“Well,” The servant coughed. “I hear he has a Castle in Fo’Dhia.”

He gave the orneriest smirk, but before Justinian had a chance to strike him again Myrddin’s eyes listed off into glassy nothingness and his body went limp. The Commander cast him down.

“Spread out;” He ran his fingers through his hair, watching the fighting around them. “Send word to release the rest of the Viking dragons and the thousand infantry men on standby, tell auxiliary to prepare. These farmers and fishermen fight harder than I expected.”

“What if this imposter is telling the truth and he’s in Fo’Dhia? He was coward enough to hide behind a man who can’t even fight.”

“Artorījos is here.” Justinian’s eyes fell on Merdraut, a vision of the first front flashing through his mind. With sudden vigor he marched to Stormfly, being kept on the ground by seven men. “I know it. The imposter thing was a low for him and I suspect strongly influenced by his Knights. He’s never sent his people to fight a battle he didn’t fight himself.”

“But sir,” The Captain insisted. “If he’s disguised -which he must be if he’s even here- then what should we even be looking for?”

“A feisty Chestnut warhorse!”

Stormfly launched violently into the air.

“Find that horse, and you’ll find Artorījos!”

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020

Not Myrddin!!! How could you?!?! Alvin, you sick, twisted, vile slime of a being, this is all your fault!!! At least I can take some small comfort in knowing Toothless is holding out alright...

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

He was a brave servant. :'3 

Yep, good ol' Toothless is doing his best! Thanks for commenting Solveig ^^

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020

Somehow, you referring to him in the past tense makes it final and more real. I think I'm too familiar with stories where nobody's ever truly gone...

No problem, Lissa! I'm always excited when a new chapter comes out, even if it is a sad one!

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

 I have a bad feeling about the 9th legion...  A disappearance for the history books indeed.  So glad to see that Toothie is still kinda okay!  Great chapter Lisa!

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

Forshadowing via history :D :D :D


Thanks Slargvarg! We are in the ten chapter count down!!! o.O

Slargvarg's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 07/18/2020
Never fear, for Blobby's here!

NO!  Soon there will be no more?  Ah, well.  At least I get to see all of the characters be eaten by the Piranharrow.  Right? Winkady wink wink

Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 04/03/2020
If you hurt Astrid, I will

If you hurt Astrid, I will be very mad and very delighted.

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017

...I don't think you'll like what happens with her in the next chapter, but it had to be done :P

Solveig the Fair's picture
Solveig the Fair
Joined: 03/25/2020

Ohhhh no..... I'm really scared now XD

Ginger and Jaxomis's picture
Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
Alvin, I really want to punch your vile little face in...

NOO, I knew Myrddin was going to die! XC Curse my devious writer's mind for reading between the lines and knowing what I would do... Poor guy, Liam is going to be heartbroken. WAIT. Is Liam going to hidetoo? o.O


I fear for Astrid... And I want to scream at the dragons to see and listen to Hookfang and start fighting the Romans... o.O

LissaFish's picture
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 02/12/2017
Writing villians everyone just wants to take out...

Is my scientific speciality! It makes me happy that y'all hate him as much as I do B-D

Liam? I cannot say... it would be very hard for him to live through this after what happened to Myrddin :'(

Thanks Ginger for commenting!

Ginger and Jaxomis's picture
Ginger and Jaxomis
Supreme Viking Champion
Joined: 01/07/2018
Is it okay that I want to cause him bodily harm then?

Or would that still be bad... <.<

GASP, NO! Liam needs to take care of the Night Furries! O.O 

No problem! ^^