BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE: I sincerely like to say Thank You to all the people that read this. It means so much to me that you have continued reading and is still garnering readers and views per month.

I will not lie.

I almost abandoned this fic, apart from loss of time and my life quickly overtaking me. But then I saw those people that signed-up for Alerts, reviewed, and those that this fic became their favorite. I just could not bear to break their hearts.

And so we continue from where we left off... almost a year and a half ago.

I am so going to get burned for taking my time to update.

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Disclaimer: Any characters mentioned are all under copyright. This work is purely fan-made.

Title: From Asgard to Midgard

Author: Scarabeye3000

Chapter 37: 'Deceptions, deceptions'

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Amon Sul

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Hiccup looked at the far horizon as Eret's ship was finally loaded with its provisions and sent on its way. Its two winged sails hold taut against the wind as it steadily made its way to the Citadel. He reviewed the battle plan they had as within a day Eret would stop in the middle of his journey and make 'modifications' on his ship to enter the first phase of the plan. The second phase would be to probe the defenses of the Citadel, the third would be to cut it off from all reinforcements, and then finally, or at least hopefully the shortest siege in the history of the mankind. Damn it all, he should have reached her first, if only he was allowed to go. If only they weren't so hasty in their decisions to send them inexperienced. She could have been saved, they might not have lost Master Portio, a lot of things that went horribly wrong could have been averted and he wouldn't be feeling this cornered and unable to do anything.

Bitterly he looked up at the sky as Toothless affectionately offered his head. Hiccup smiled and stroked his head, he was scratching the dragon when someone stepped behind him. He looked turned at the newcomer and saw his cousin give a small grin, his large pole arm resting on his shoulder.

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah," he lied, feelings deeply etched into his eyes.

"Don't worry," his free hand finding Hiccup's shoulder, "We will get her back."

"I like this optimistic side of yours," The Heir smiled a little and sighed, "I just hope we're not too late."

"Stay strong Hiccup, believe me when I say that her spirit is strong," his cousin gave a small laugh at a humorous memory, "As a matter of fact, her spirit is stronger than the both of us combined."

"Agreed," he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, steeling himself he opened his eyes with newfound strength, "Everyone ready?"

"Just about cousin."

"How about the twins?" they made their way towards their peers as the organized chaos of numerous riders buzzed around them.

"Ruff is just double-checking her gear, Tuff just finished topping up his gas weapon."

"Fishlegs, have you finished the crafting?"

The large young man stepped beside Snotlout and showed numerous arrowheads and shafts, he plucked a copper tipped arrowhead with a noticeable wick on the end and said, "Perfect for breaching gates and wooden doors, also good for blasting your enemies to kingdom come."

"Good, saddle up Riders-" Hiccup climbed atop Toothless and grasped the reins of his dragon, "-we go to free Astrid."

"Wait! Wait!" Gobber came racing towards him as he carried saddle bags full of round metal balls. He gave each senior Rider a bag each and took out one metal ball as an example. He held the small hand held tool on his palm and spoke in front of Hiccup. "Now hear me and listen, this is a hand-held bomb that can take out an arm or leg of anyone who is near its blast radius. To use it, just give it a vigorous shake and then light the top-" he showed that the top of the bomb seemed hollow and there was a wad of tinder in it.

"How do we make sure we get to keep our hand and legs after using those?" Snotlout held the twins as both clawed their way towards Gobber, their cries of 'I want one!' rang out from them.

"Easy! As soon as you smell or see the tinder burning get yourself scarce and everything should be okay."

"That's not very helpful!"

Gobber shrugged himself, "It's up to you, but its good that you have these instead of having nothing else on hand."

Nodding that they all understood the instructions, they secured the grenades on their satchels and mounted their rides, all around him wings flapped as all of the riders of Berk lifted off and headed in formation towards the Citadel. With Hiccup taking the lead with the fastest dragons that could fly with him, they formed the light armored cavalry of their army. From below, his father also rallied his men, but instead of the same light armor and maneuverability, they all donned heavy armor and their dragons have armor protecting the most softest parts that could penetrate their hides. Slower, but heavily armed like a primitive main battle tank of any army. Rallying themselves behind the Heir of Berk, Hiccup donned his dragon mask and guided Toothless to their destination, a flag of a red toothy skull flew behind them as Fishlegs affixed their battle standard on a pole that he carried on his shoulders.

They flew in formation, a perfect flying 'V' to reduce drag and easily wedge their way into the skies.

Five ships of Viking design followed their large sails proudly displaying the red toothed skull, while two Galleons from the Vatican Knights of Aragon bristled with cannons as they negotiated their way towards the island of the Coalition.

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Meanwhile

Kaldr looked at the horizon as he stood on top of the mountain citadel the Berkians were building, it was unfinished so far, but he could see the end results by now. A vast honeycomb of tunnels that would connect battlements and natural fortifications unassailable by any siege engine due to their proximity to cliffs and irregular S-bends on the mountain side. The rocks of the mountain would provide ample range for the catapults littered all around. It was decided that one clan would hold the fortification and would naturally maintain its upkeep for the protection of the whole nation. It was a great administrative feat that Hiccup managed to rally and turn round the rustic beginnings of his hometown and led it into a path of a budding military fiefdom. Indeed, his knowledge that he garnered from Asgard, he magnificently implemented them here well. These Norsemen were excellent navigators, they can read star charts and know advance navigation that belies their barbaric appearance, indeed, with the proper training they too could become like Hiccup. Or at least close to what he is.

Their sorcerer finally recovered his full strength as the preparations for the upcoming battles were being concluded. He was essential due to his expertise in spatial space creation and of course, his newly garnered knowledge from the gibberish of the warp. He ran a hand across his crystals that adorned his magical gauntlets and they glowed in response. Good, the young sorcerer thought, they were still able to hold energies and didn't seem to have damage themselves due to his own recklessness. Regardless though, he was able to make sure that Astrid would be secured to be back in Midgard instead of being flung far into the reaches of the Nine Realms, in terms of livability, she ran the risk of being thrown to Muspelheim or worse, the Land of the Giants. He shook his head of the thought, they must be strong to persevere through this adversity and that goes not just in body, but also in the mind.

Master Kaldr approached the young sorcerer and puts his open palm on his left chest. The younger one bowed respectfully and his gaze met the floor.

"How are you now?"

"Never better My Lord."

"Raise your head," Rael met Kaldr's eyes and the Master immediately noticed the difference, "I see that you have attained an understanding of the Warp, your eyes are now like your teacher's."

"Indeed my lord, something good came out of my recklessness." Rael looked down at his hand and eldritch energy spilled out, his eyes which had a greenish hue before had lost its luster only to be replaced by a purple explosion of color, like a nebula cloud exploded in his eyes, "Though the Empyrean granted me this boon, the voices filtering through can drive any lesser being insane at the chattering."

"Such is the price of power, unrivaled in its source and quantity."

"Indeed, let us just hope that the mon'keigh-"

"Hiccup is a mon'keigh."

"I mean the humans would be able to penetrate the inside of the fortress, all this plan would not work without their success. Although I loathe to rely on other races from other realms," Rael shrugged his shoulders, "I suppose we should do with what we have."

"I'm glad you see it that way young one," Master Kaldr nods in agreement, "Neither race, stature, or status in society must impede our objective to serve Lord Loki. He has seen past the bigotry of our race to other lesser beings and so we must emulate that as our own."

"Understood my Lord, I shed my bigotry for Hiccup a long time ago, and I trust him with my life... but that does not extend though to other people."

"I sense something else troubling you? Young One?"

Rael chewed on his lip for a moment and sighed, "The supposed betrayal of Lord Loki to Asgard? Do you think it is true My Lord?"

"I do not know, but whatever happens we have his trust above all else," Kaldr sighed and shook his head, "Now go, ensure to bring everything we need to slay that Sorcerer, we can ill-afford to spare Neroth and Cythrax. I cannot in my blood forget their treachery, and their death is the only thing that could wash away the bad blood of the death of our kin."

"He is formidable before, more so now that he has continued feeding on human souls."

"I am aware of that, let us hope it is not too late for Astrid to be rescued."

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Coalition Citadel

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A squad of guards stood on every corner of the highest tower as they trained their weary eyes on the horizon. A few of the guards sported baggy eyes and exhaled weary sighs as the double shifts took its toll on their body. One thing about their employers is that they maintain a strict regime not just on the mercenary force as a whole, but on everything this suspected syndicate encompass. All slave ships must adhere to schedules, meal times are regular and to the letter complete with protein, veggies, water and the occasional fruit and ale. Truth be told, they are more well-fed than all the armies in the 'modern world' could complain. Plus the wages for these characters was astronomically high, 30 pieces of gold coins for a month of service? Their eyes bugged out as the price was laid out in front of them, I mean, that's already half a nobleman's ransom! And it was such a good paying job that they didn't seem to mind such practices of their employers. Such as witchcraft, sorcery and demonology. The guards tried to shake it off, but the constant pressure on their heads means that the reach of the Sorcerer Neroth was just around a corner. Demonstrating his terrifying power, their employer's strongman mutilated one of the other mercenaries who managed to grab some shuteye while still on duty, and the punishments for failure or disobedience was prolonged torture. A fact that their four-eyed employer relished, to inflict pain and suffering and to hear his victims cry out in anguish.

Oh Gods, why did they ever accepted such slavery.

Those few mercenaries who deemed this adventure too brutal and too constricting tried to leave. The Sorcerer unfortunately caught them while they were under way, they stripped them off their belongings, their pay and weapons. Their throats were sliced and their half-dead bodies mercilessly crucified on the beach, others he personally hung on the sides of the Citadel Walls, the stench of their dead bodies wafting in the kitchen every single time the wind would be particularly strong. A constant and brutal reminder if they ever tried reneging on the contract that they had accepted with these otherworldly beings. And so with great trepidation they remained alert, or at least, tried to remain alert at they guarded the tower and acted as a lookout. It was uncommon for them to experience the heat of the sun, but when Vikings do, they enjoyed it to the fullest. So the four guards stepped out into the small lookout of the tower while keeping their eyes on the horizon. The sea was a blinding menagerie of white waves and blue water, the skies held no clouds and you could see as far as the naked eyes could see.

But what manner of good fortune or bad luck seemed to drift towards them.

A ship with two sails could be clearly seen, bobbing up and down as it played amidst the waves. The guard called two of his mates and three pairs of eyes focused on the wayward ship. Their commander, a burly man from Boulogne who once used to be an enforcer of the vassal for that region, stepped forward carrying a large cylindrical object. They called it a reflecting mirror, a complex menagerie of mirrors and tubes that lets you see distant objects with ease and clarity. He squinted down on the view port and turned a few knobs here and there to focus the instrument's vision.

The ship flew no flag, and the crew seemed to be in a relaxed state, there was a carpenter working on the port side that seemed to be patching up a hole in the hull. There were weapons on board, bola launchers, and ballistas, predictably there would be other weapons on board. It featured two sails on a paired configuration, like two butterfly wings hold taut against the wind and its curved masts looking like two elephant tusks on the sides. Regardless of its appearance and it's destination though, one guard quickly stepped back and headed for the wooden stairs that gives access to the top tower. He quickly breezed through the ladder's rung and bolted towards the secondary room where a signal man was found resting. They too were given the task of double shifts and any chance they could take advantage of some shuteye they would immediately grab it and just argue that they could be easily woken up when there is an alarm. In any case, he was lucky that the soldier caught him stretching as he woke up from a nap, the guard stomped towards the messenger and said, "You slacking off again?"

"No sir," the messenger cheekily replied, "I was merely uhh... refreshing my yoga poses."

"What the hell is a yoga!?"

"See sir, it's one of those stretching things that came from the Punjabs I think- taught to me by some medicine man I served with in Constantinople, he told me he was from Gujarat or something, it's supposed to increase your flexibility."

The huffing guard didn't seemed convinced, "Uh-huh, so can this 'yoga' discipline help you do your job?"

"You don't need 'yoga' to holler and ring a bell if there's an emergency-"

"-oh crap!" he grabbed the shoulder of the young man and said, "Go get your bell and alarm the sailors, we saw what looked like a pirate ship on the northeast."

The messenger nods his head and easily complied, he was almost caught sleeping and if you were caught sleeping, well 50 lashes would do a real number on your bare back. The guard rushed back to the tower while the young man stepped out of the room and headed for the nearest terrace, clutching a large bell in his hand, he began tolling his bell and shouted, "SHIP! SHIP AHOY ON THE NORTH EAST! MOVE YOUR ASSES YOU SQUIDS AND SEE FOR YOURSELF!"

Sailors looked at the shouting young man and jumped into action. The alert was being sounded and they needed to pursue the potential enemy, as they were rushing forward to their small ships, a dark shadow materialized on top of a stone pillar as all soldiers and mercenaries looked down in fear and terror. Sorcerous energies crackled away from him as those nearest felt their hairs stood on end. His four eyes scanning the assembled menagerie of soldiers, mercenaries, sailors and slaves, their silence deafening as they kept their eyes locked into those evil ones.

"My Lord Neroth?" a brutal looking man stepped in front of his men and bowed lightly, "You have words for us?"

"Yes Captain, I have heard of the alert and I wish to give something to you," the evil looking elf glided downwards towards the Captain and landed softly in front of him, "As you know, we are on constant high alert because our enemy just reared its head. Now, all captured ships would be sailed back to the citadel and I want every cabin searched and stripped everything of value."

"That we will do my Lord."

Neroth sneered and took a necklace from inside his coat, "Take this Captain."

Dangling from Neroth's outstretched hand was a leather necklace with a pendant made from black obsidian. It was unremarkable on its own, but the design of the pendant pretty much makes up for it. It was the eight pointed star, a well-known symbol of Chaos, a cold influence seemed to emanate from the accessory as the Captain's palm closed into it. He felt it cold in his hand as he looked at the sorcerer with puzzled eyes, "My Lord?"

"Captain, this pendant carries my sentience and it shall aid you in case something goes wrong."

"My Lord?" the mercenary Captain repeated in wonder.

"Really, 'these mon-keighs'..." The Sorcerer sighed and shook his head, "-you seriously need more explanation for that? Fine then, carry this pendant at all times when boarding the ship, when you are ambushed you can call upon assistance and I shall heed your call. Now go upon which you must do, I would hold you no further. Remember, fresh flesh to my chambers first."

The Captain bowed respectfully and turned towards the ships, while they were conversing the other men continued their chores and prepared for the ships to be on the way. He stepped inside the ship as the sails were unfurled and the docking ropes uncoiled and stowed at the bow, the pilot of the ship turned the wooden wheel as the bow pointed outwards into the open sea. They were already on the last month of their contract and all of his crew were anxious to head back home and count their earnings. Paid in full and well-fed, honest seamen could not ask for a much better job, yet the brutality these elves show grew sour in their lips and their methods of 'persuasion' are getting beyond their own morality. Of course, there are no honor among thieves, but he was no thief. Every gold he has on his sea chest was a product of their own hard work, their mark as excellent mercenary seamen. And so he spurned his men forward, to engage the smaller ship as his own caravel cuts swiftly through the waters of the North. The other ship was taking no action whatsoever as far as he could see, the carpenter was still in his bosun's chair attending to the hole on the ship while he could even see a hammock stretched on the main deck.

The nerve of these sea men, to be so lax on these frigid and unforgiving waters.

Surprisingly though, they seemed to be indifferent towards his approach, there were no men scurrying about on deck. A practice so foreign to him it seemed unreal, but considering the scenarios that could have happened to the ship he came upon a few. One is that these are armed merchants, somehow they were attacked considering they have a large gaping hole on the side being repaired right now, two is that their ship carries plagued seamen that are too sick or invalid to even do their duties to the ship, three is that they're just too damn lazy that they don't even have a lookout scanning the horizon for any approaching ship.

The two sailed ship didn't seem too damage to be a survivor from a naval battle, but then the glaring hole on its side proved otherwise. As they approached the seemingly placid ship, alarm bells kept ringing on his head on the absurdness of it all. But he has his orders, he quashed the feelings and addressed his men.

"Prepare for battle."

The sailors loaded their ranged weapons and prepared for combat.

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Meanwhile

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"Did they take the bait?" Eret asked.

"Yes, they did,"

"What about Finn?"

"He's still in his bosun's chair, trying to fix the 'hole' we made for them."

"Is the small culverin already prepared?"

"It's already aimed out of the hole."

"Good, have the men at the ready- and be quick to pull Finn back to the deck."

"-at your command Eret."

The supposed 'lax' sailors all turned back to their menial jobs as the small caravel approached them from behind. They were all determined to look forward of the ship away from the eyes of the approaching warship as two sets of eyes were crouched on the wheelhouse and focused their sights on the approaching ship. Eret looked at one of his sailors and nodded knowingly, the sailor acknowledged the nod and headed for the main deck of their ship covered by a large piece of sail cloth. The 'pirates' wets their lips dried with anticipation, if all plan breaks down now then they have no chance whatsoever of penetrating that citadel. He offers a silent prayer as the sound of the wind whistled on their ears.

On the lower deck, a small cylindrical weapon, that closely resembled the prototype cannon the Berkians were firing was set-up, primed and ready to fire. Following instructions made by Hiccup, they shoved in enough black powder mixed with saltpeter, they rammed it in followed by a minie ball and a wick shoved into the lighting hole.

A large group of sailors were huddled on the exits to the fore and aft of their ship, ready to pounce in case the word gets out, armed and protected to the teeth their leather armor pliant and repaired superbly by Hiccup, their weapons sharpened and reforged as part of their payment and the changing of their allegiance from freelance to Berkian.

The waiting was killing them, but suddenly a great shout was heard from behind their ship as the men gripped their weapons to their chest.

"Surrender and heave-to Pirates!" the Coalition Captain shouted, "You are unprepared and caught, resistance is futile!"

"FIRE!" Eret's voice countered the demand as their ship shook from the explosion.

A loud explosion suddenly came from the 'pirate ship' as screams of pain and confusion swept the Coalition's ship. Steel shrapnel rained from the sky as all around them, wood splintered and ropes snapped in two. Three of his men in the middle deck cried out in pain as smoke billowed from their 'prey' ship.

Finn was suddenly hoisted up as a cylindrical weapon was jammed outside of the hole he was trying to fix. Shouts as the men came rushing out of the lower deck as shields and spears were brought about to match the suddenly prepared pirates that were arraying their own show of force.

The Coalition ship launched grappling hooks attaching them to Eret's ship. The sailors and soldiers all armed and ready to board. As the turn of the battle begins there was a shout of 'FIRE' and the culverin that is now occupying the small 'hole' that Eret's men were trying to repair breathed fire and peppered the enemy ship with steel shots that shredded wood and flesh alike.

It was total chaos.

Splintered wood and shavings flew like pieces of shrapnel as screams of pain, surprise, and confusion resonated all through the Coalition's ship. Their own rocked sideways as both ships heave-to side by side and instantly exchanged boarders all around. Bolts arrows and cannon fire dropped Coalition sailors like marionettes with their strings cut. Over and over the small culverin fired relentlessly as Eret and his men boarded the enemy ship.

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Meanwhile

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"What the hell happened!? What was that?" the Coalition Captain screamed amidst the noise at his First Mate, "Did they fire something?"

"Captain-" he turned towards his First mate who suddenly flopped down in front of him, the left side of his face blown away by a piece of wooden shrapnel.

His blood ran cold as the shouts of his dying men intensified, a bolt arrow clipped him on the upper arm and pain bloomed from his arm to his head. Explosions from an unknown source surprised and confused him as they all visibly ran away from the sides of the ship. The incessant pain suddenly woke him up, they were losing and he was standing there like an idiot. The enemy kept raining crossbow bolts and explosive shells that threw them all in disarray. His first mate now lying on his feet dead, and his men scattered, he shook his head and roused himself, picking up his shield and his double headed axe. He breathed deeply and shouted with all his might.

"HOLD! HOLD FAST YOU SEA DOGS!"

Wild eyed sailors focused on him as he banged on his shield, and his booming voice vindictive to inspire his remaining men to action.

"HOLD YOUR GROUND AND STAND! UP! PICK YOURSELVES UP YOU BLEEDING BILGE RATS!"

Those men who were nearby rallied to him as they formed an advancing line from upper deck, down to midship. One by one, those that fallen picked themselves up, with weapons at the ready and stepping in side by side with their Captain.

"YOU SORDID PIECES OF MUCK! GET YOUR STEEL AND START STABBIN' OR I'LL RUN YOU THROUGH MESELF!"

Their skirmish line established, the Captain raised his weapon and began charging the midship to the bow where most of the boarders are. He saw the obvious Captain of this slimy 'unprepared' pirate ship, that dared sprung this trap into them. With his two swords and long black hair, he knew from the start who to target. If this man goes down, then their exploding ship could be towed back and he would personally flail them one by one if necessary to avenge the death of his men.

Truly unforgiving, they marched forward as another shower of bolt arrows rained around them. Dropping a few more of his men that didn't carry any shields or protection, they crumpled to the floor as the Coalition line met Eret's.

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Eret ducked as a large two bladed axe whizzed above his head, its passage cutting the ends of his long black mane that didn't manage to clear itself as he tried to dodge the savage blow. He whirled around with his two swords in a side way slash as a large round shield block his strike. Eyes with so much anger met his own as the Coalition Captain growled in greeting. He towered over Eret as his scarred face sneered down at his enemy.

"Oohhh, who would have thought I've encountered a creature as hideous as you?" Eret said in mock disgust.

"I'll be sure to cut off your tongue and feed it to the birds-"

"-and I'll make sure I'll send your face to the depths, so that no other man would be unfortunate enough to see such an ugly mug as yours-"

"RRAArrrr!"

The Captain charged forward as Eret and his men locked in melee, explosions and the scream of fighting, dying men surrounded them. His enemy pushed him back with his shield as the pirate tumbled backwards to avoid getting trampled. Eret looked at his enemy as he landed on his knees, obviously much larger than him, stocky and heavily built, a man of the sea just like him. He stood with his feet apart and his shoulders hunched, like a beast ready to pounce again and push him away in case he pressures him too much with his two swords. The pirate clicked his tongue, this will not be easy, not very easy at all.

Obviously, he wasn't Hiccup- but he knows a few tricks.

Eret charged his two swords held up on his chest like a pair of horns that would gore anyone on his way. The Captain's eyes narrowed, prepared for the charge and braced himself, he began advancing himself like a turtle, short and stocky steps to counter Eret's fleet-footed approach. As they met in the middle, the pirate suddenly stopped and dropped to the ground while his enemy continued barreling forward. His enemy's eyes widened as he awkwardly jumped over Eret's prone body, but not before feeling a sharp jab on his right hip. He stepped back to his right hip bleeding copious amount of blood. He snarled at the pirate as Eret grinned like a maniac.

"You underhanded coward!"

"All is fair in love and war-" Eret stalked forward as the Captain went to the defensive, "-oh wait, we are at war."

"Shut your mouth and fight-!"

Eret dodged the incoming ax as he parried to the right, using his other sword, he swung it down to meet the wooden shield. Frustration settling in as he realized, they were actually evenly matched, even with the bleeding of his enemy's leg there was no detrimental effects that he could exploit. His enemy's fortitude is admirable, but Eret knew it had to end now, or he risk his men and himself being too tired to fight or talk their way out of this. So, as another ax swing came hurtling to the side, he faked to drop to the ground without looking too obvious. The Captain cocked his head sideways confused and surprised, that wasn't so hard a hit, but apparently the leader of this pirate crew had only his speed and agility to count on. Eret dropped like a potato sack as he huff and puffed trying hard to breathe normally.

The enemy Captain gave a small laugh as he saw his vanquished enemy lay prone on the deck panting like a dog.

Was this it? All that ruse, for this Captain? He didn't even need that artifact that was given to him. Not like he'd use it anyway, it would bring shame to him and might even be the catalyst of his life as his employers don't easily forgive such failures.

He drew his full height and raised his axe to finish Eret off, he met the tired eyes of the pirate and grinned, "Meet your end pira-HIGK!"

With a sudden thrust, Eret lunged forward to his enemy, his right feet reared back as he aimed the heel of his feet at his enemy's crotch and unleashed his leg like a whip.

You could hear a pin drop as a sharp, but audible 'pop' was heard, making all men on the vicinity cringe and their hairs stood on end.

The double bladed axe and wooden shield clattered to the wooden deck as the enemy Captain dropped down to his knees in front of Eret as two swords swung in front of him, a sharp pain on the side of his neck as he felt something escape from his insides.

"Unlike you unimaginative and ugly oaf," Eret said as he stood up and grasped his head, the blood gushing from his jugulars draining his body of its heat, "I don't talk unless necessary..."

He swung his sword harder this time as the weight of the blade, its sharpness, and the already weakened neck area gave way and the enemy's head separated from his body. With the enemy leader defeated and dead, he raised the lifeless head above him and shouted, "Everybody! Hey, everybody! Your leader is dead, surrender now!"

The sound of fighting noticeably stopped as the Coalition's combatants lowered their weapons. With the death of the Captain, his men lost the will to fight and readily surrendered. Eret's men cheered mightily as the headless body of the Captain plopped forward down on the wooden deck, the necklace touched blood and began glowing. Unbeknownst to them, it began shaking, a slight tremor then it grew and became stronger, it was beginning to rumble through the deck as everyone turned to the vibrating headless body. They stepped back as the body was flung high into the air and was thrown overboard plunging into the sea, never to be seen again. The necklace or artifact hovered in eye level as a black void began forming at the center, expanding its surface area everyone took a step back or two as the coldness that spew out of the center shivered them to the core even though warm clothes adorned their bodies.

Voices reached their ears as the Coalition sailors suddenly dropped down on their knees and covered their ears. Obviously Eret's men also retreated behind him, the fear of the unknown driving them to herd together, just like the most primitive senses drive us on what to do. Fear of death and will to survive forces them to clump side by side as an unknown entity stepped out of the void that opened in front of them.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear me... it seems I have lost a good ship Captain?" a spectral voice, not unpleasant yet not reassuring either came from the void.

Eret and his men stepped back as they finally saw the speaker, his four eyes glared at them haughtily, his long flowing black hair was swept back and set with organized chaos, his armor exotic and flimsy at best, yet it belied a strength that seemed unnatural and foreign in their eyes. Runes decorated his armaments including a staff that radiated eldritch energy so powerful it was visible to the naked eye. His smiled showed rows of sharpened teeth that snarled dangerously, like a predator that has seen such interesting prey it was deciding whether to eat it or play with it. A short sword of obvious artificier quality hung on the side while a large tome rested on his other side. Its front displaying unreadable language, the design of his armor of numerous faces in displays of varying degrees of anguish and pain. A sadistic predator that came from the void, how marvelous Eret thought wryly... wundebar.

The mysterious four eyed entity eyed them carefully, from head to toe, his eyes lingering and perusing.

"My name is Neroth and unfortunately because of you, I am short of such good... assets."

He lazily pointed around the damaged ship, "As such I wish to extend to you employment."

"I will have to decline," Eret said with such obvious bravado, "My spirit cries out from employment, I'm more of a freelancer."

"I assure you, the rewards would be great-" he pointed to a common sailor under their employ, "You! How much are you paid for this week alone?"

The sailor opened his mouth to speak, but it was not fast enough, "Speak quickly monkeigh!"

"Ah- umm... 30 gold pieces sir. 30 gold pieces each sir"

Eret's eyes widened as the offer seemed too lucrative for him, Neroth watched him closely, any signs of treachery, any doubts or resistance. Losing a ship Captain could be detrimental for their defense, so he actually needs this mon'keigh to handle the rest of the defense for him, and as an elf he knew that squandering such obvious assets with greater potential was a grave mistake.

"I- I will need to confer with my associates," Eret said with the right amount of hesitation and excitement, Neroth looked at him coyly and grinned evily.

"You have exactly 1 minute to confer."

The Pirate Captain gathered his men and spoke in hushed tones, but they all knew their new employer is keeping a sharp ear towards them.

"It's a good bargain..."

"... it's more than what the Hooligans offered!"

"If it's 30 gold pieces each, we'll be living like Kings when we go back!"

"... let's think about this for a second."

"... don't be a fool, but don't look too pleased with the offer."

"See if you can get more..."

Eret turned back to Neroth with a smile, "I am assuming there is a reason why you need such 'good quality' mercenaries to your cause?"

"We have a quarrel with the Hooligans- I'm assuming you can offer us something about them in addition to your agreement to be in our employ?"

Clearly he was eavesdropping Eret thought wryly, but his face remained neutral, "Indeed, we were approached by the Hooligans- we have information about their village, excuse me their town and its military might."

"Then you would be glad to hear that I am willing to pay a good price in exchange of that information..." Neroth walked over to the side and turned back to the Pirate, "...that is separate from the price of your services?"

"Agreed then," The dark Sorcerer saw the whites of all their teeth as they heard their leader in affirmation, "We shall be in your service, until this... 'quarrel' with the Hooligans has... concluded."

"Call me curios, but what was the price that the Hooligans had offered you?" Neroth approached narrowing his eyes as he looked intently at Eret, "... and why didn't you accept?"

He shrugged his shoulders in a carefree way and said "20 gold coins only. We asked 15 gold coins and the ability to tame dragons... they clammed up after we demanded those terms. They're so full of themselves that dragons are tools, weapons of war, not some pet that they are so disillusioned to think."

Eret could feel something in his mind, like a proverbial finger poking his brain left and right, looking, probing, discerning if there were any lies or hesitancy. It continued on for a minute and he was starting to feel uncomfortable when Neroth smiled again and turned away back to the portal that he opened.

"Welcome to the employ of the Coalition, Eret son of Eret..." four red glowing eyes stared back from the void in the portal as the ethereal voice came back on their heads, "... I expect you at the Citadel within the hour with those two ships. You will find your pay at the docks, I expect you to provide me with the complete information once you arrive."

They watched as the portal grew smaller and smaller and the feel they were feeling awhile ago that gnawed at their nerves end seemed to abate. Until finally the wind was the only sound coupled with the creaking of wood. Eret turned to his men and to the Coalition soldiers.

"Well, you heard him... let's go back to this Citadel of yours."

Grumbling the most senior of the Coalition soldiers still surviving, although with a large cut above his eye, turned to his group and shouted, "Alright boys, let get out of here."

The Pirates trooped back to their mostly undamaged ship as Teeny sidled up to their leader and whispered, "We're good to go Eret."

"Damn it all...!" Eret headed for his quarters as Teeny followed him, he turned back to his First Mate as he looked back at him in alarm, "Everything okay over there Eret?"

"Blimey Teeny... he was poking me mind, it was so... so unpleasant, like some worm pushing your brain around or some."

"Like he was looking if we were lyin'..."

Teeny shrugged as they felt their boat move, "At least we're not right?"

Eret took a swig of mead from a nearby bottle and exhaled a lungful of air, "Not yet anyways... prepare the crew, if they do anything more powerful with my brain, I'm not sure what they'll see," the Captain gave a tired sigh, "What the Hel have I gotten myself into?"

.

An Hour later

Eret sat in front of the leader of the Coalition, a man so regal and beautiful it was impossible to accurately describe him. The Central Hall of the Citadel had a high ceiling and a chandelier made of black steel that illuminated the large hall with mysterious lights that were not coming from a candle. The sorcerer was whispering something to their leader in hushed voices as the Pirate looked around. A display rack of weapons and torture devices sat on one corner while a staircase sprawled out behind the throne on the middle. His eyes were still wandering around the halls when the leader cleared his throat and he locked his gaze unto him.

"Good afternoon," my goodness, the leader's voice was like hearing pealing bells on a hilltop, "My sorcerer has informed me that you have 'information' that is of great importance to us."

"I have information about the army of the Hooligans."

"I see, and I suppose the amount of gold that I am willing to part with for this information was enough?"

Eret nodded for his reply. Enough? he thought wryly, Hell they practically gave them their whole earnings for the whole year after a good raid. There was a chest of gold waiting for them at the docks as they tied in anchor at the port insi- correction, there was a 'heaping' chest of gold. His men hurried to the chest and it took four burly men to actually lift it and put it on board. With his new status as the primary Captain, he ordered the damaged ship to be used as a barricade to the entrance to the walled cove. It seemed unorthodox at first, but Neroth agreed to that.

"It is very gracious I must admit, now the information I have is this. The Hooligans is amassing a large army from all of their protectorates, they have gathered their full might and will begin sailing towards here within the day or possibly tomorrow."

Cythrax nods his head, "Go on."

"Right, they are fielding dragons- hundreds of them, some with riders but mostly without that provides support. I have to say that would be formidable since I used to hunt dragons before, nasty fire breathing buggers they are."

"Go on."

"They have five ships in total- called them Dragon Carriers or something, they can deploy their dragons from those ships. Plus a strange ship that looks like a- a spoon or a large soup ladle. Definitely not Viking, mid-Europa maybe?"

Neroth also sat down in contemplation, "Can you remember the flag that they flew?"

Eret scrunched up and scratched his chin in thought, "Well, one very vague thing I remember is that it was white, it had a crown and a small cross on top and- and there were keys, there were two keys on top of each other right below the crown."

Cythrax rubbed his forehead and sighed, "The Vatican."

"The Prince's puppet army..."

The Archon sighed again and shook his head, "You could have shown some restraints before you destroyed them right?"

"I already cast the spell towards them, it was then that I saw the foolish mon'keigh and realized my mistake," the Sorcerer said defensively, "Regardless, their death screams was still refreshing though."

"Ok, how about the composition of their army? Anything we need to take note of?"

"They have elves," he said nonchalantly, "And some Asgardians from what I heard, but that would be completely ridiculous."

Cythrax and Neroth's eyes met together knowingly, their bond quite set as they both didn't need to speak to understand one another. If Asgard has already sent its agents then they must be more careful now, the Key is with them and yet their High Archon Malachi does not seem inclined to contact them for instructions. Regardless, until the High Archon deems them to be the focus of his activities is moot for now, the defense of the Key supersedes all their own misgivings. They both turned to Eret and said, "Did you get any names from them?"

Eret scrunched up and frowned, "Warrior's Three- they definitely said Warrior's Three, but they're just stories, no way they could represent the legends that was told before."

Neroth stood up and began walking towards the throne and up the stairs, Cythrax was left behind contemplating the news that was given to them by their new Captain. He knew where his sorcerer would have gone, to prepare for the upcoming they would need all the preparations they could get. And to do so, his sorcerer would need to gather the power of the Immaterium for some spells not even mortals have ever gazed upon. The Archon stood up and gestured for his new 'asset' to do the same, "You must prepare for the coming enemies, I heard that you defeated our current ship Captain with both guile and skill. I expect nothing less than that, Eret son of Eret."

"It will be done."

With that he turned around and headed outside, the Archon was left alone contemplating on what else is hidden from them. Surely, the brute force of the army that was being arrayed against them would not be only thing that they were coming up against. The death of one of their kin would surely be avenged and he needed to prepare for them. It was the Kabal of one of his distant cousins, Kaldr, and he was the one who fought with on Nargothrond. One hell of a place that was, he thought fondly, not unlike these uncouth mon'keighs and their 'primitive' castles made from mortar and rough-cut stone. Not even one utterance of a protection spell, nor runes of shielding was integrated on this fortification. Remarkably, they all knew how to fortify such a place, but they would expend a large amount of energy and that is one thing they are short on. Cythrax and Neroth debated on it before, if this was truly Midgard and the ebb and flow energy of the cosmos is using this as a conduit, then where would the energy be siphoning off to? Neroth tried to answer that before, and he came up with interesting theories and answers, but the most closer to the truth was that the energy that was being siphoned was being consumed by the Great Devourer, the Nidhogg, as it gnaws on Yggdrasil's roots, it also inadvertently feeds off the energy being absorbed by the Great Tree. Not a tree in a literal sense, but in a higher understanding so foreign to these mon'keighs and their mud crawling spawns.

The Archon stood up and walked back to the stairs heading for his room with a great view of their islands below.

.

Eret walked up to the gangplank to his ship as he surveyed the surroundings. All around them the soldiers moved erratic, there were those that moved with a sure movement, but he could see that not everyone is the same, some eyes were listless while some did a thousand yard stare. They all looked well-fed since he is yet to see one soldier falling over his feet from hunger, which is usually the case for despots. However, they seemed to be getting restless, like something is not right. Just then, the answer to their question stepped forward in the face of another man who was tall and broad shouldered, a brutal face that could rival Drago and eyes that seemed to shift all around him like the wind. He approached Eret closely invading his personal space, but Eret stood firm on the spot, they were eye to eye, yet they seemed challenging to each other.

"Are you the new Captain of the Ships?" the hulking man asked rudely.

"What's in it to you?"

The burly man pushed his way towards him and said, "I'll cut off your tongue whelp if the Master does not require your services and treats his property with obvious jealousy."

The Pirate seemed taken aback by the statement, but didn't show it on his face, "Who might you be then? Oh great and oversized looking property?"

"I am Kjud, Captain of the Guards... you would do well to remember who you answer to!"

"I answer not to you Captain of the Guards," Eret sneered confidently, "It is not you who holds my leash, none but the Archon and his Sorcerer may command me."

The Guard Captain was about to draw his sword when a voice stopped them all in their tracks.

"Enough," Neroth's cruel voice radiated from the bow of the ship where he was observing the exchange, "Enough."

Kjud the Guard Captain bowed low while Eret gave a simple bow of respect, nevertheless, the Sorcerer was satisfied for now of his bow and walked towards the gangplank. "You must excuse the Guard Captain of course, knowing where your allegiance currently are and your strength of character is paramount to your quality as a Captain under me. Carry on then, dear Kjud."

As he walked away the Guard Captain turned to Eret and spoke to him in harsh whispers, "You will listen to me and listen well, the masters demand much from us yet they do so with their assistance," he signaled to the two soldiers behind him and they approached quickly carrying two chest of tinkling bottles inside, "Inside are elixirs to extend your strength for a few days, take only as much as necessary to remove the fatigue and weariness. They would demand that you remain awake at night at least to cover the security at night in case someone advances towards us."

Eret nodded in understanding as Kjud and his retinue turned away and left the ship, he walked towards his cabin and gestured to his First Mate Teeny who issued orders to stay sharp and prepare to cast off and in a constant state of readiness. As soon as they closed the door, Eret crumpled to a nearby chair and exhaled mightily. Teeny slid down to the floor, his knees knocking together as they all felt their tension coming loose in a single moment.

"What the bloody hell was that?"

"I never saw him climb the ship," Teeny exhaled, "He could have done that magic thing again to get behind us."

"Calm down," the Captain rested his hand on his First Mate and squeezed reassuringly, "Have the men rest, we await night fall and the attack to sound before we move."

.

Nightfall

Torches were lighted while every tower and battlements had large braziers that provided light that pierced through the gloom. Even in the cycle of night the guards were at full strength and no infiltrator can get away from all eyes that were concentrated outward. Even in the water fire can be seen as the Sorcerer Neroth used his considerable skill to allow the water to burn. There were pyres all around as the courtyard and the cove was awash with the roaring light of flame. All the guards were all standing and some ladled the soup on their bowls as dinner was given even in times of their duty, the weather was quite warm and was further heated by the numerous bonfires that the soldiers didn't seem to mind the cold air. All eyes open for the tiniest flicker in the darkness, an irregular shape in the shadows that would prelude an attack.

It was in this state that Eret found the soldiers of the Coalition as he walked out of his cabin and began shouting orders to get ready to be on the way.

The guards paid him no mind, he merely said that he was positioning his ship so that he does not need to do so in case they needed to deploy as quickly as they can. He recently learned that there was a considerable amount of sailors and other ships that went out, but were quickly recalled and was already racing towards the Citadel to help reinforce it. The news that trickled through the grapevine alarmed the Coalition, plus the recent abandonment and cold indifference of the Meatheads and the current ineptness of the Burglars effectively crippled half of the Coalition's forces. Their only reinforcements now were the remaining Lavalouts who joined the Coalition wholeheartedly and currently occupies half of the island with their families. That's were the hesitancy in his heart comes from, the children.

Ok, so he used to be a Dragon Trapper, part-mercenary, part-pirate, but admittedly he has a little tender spot for women and children.

Bugger that, he just couldn't help it.

Eret closed his eyes and uttered a small prayer, slowly the moon graced them with its presence as its soft rays peeked behind the dark clouds. He opened his eyes and something obscured his vision, a large flying object blocking momentarily the light of the moon.

"So, it begins."

He walked towards the stairs and went below deck, his men all armed and ready began crawling out into the top deck. Shuffling some barrels aside with Tiny helping him as he goes along, he came upon a barrel that had a false bottom. He knocked the false covering off and grabbed the carved piece of wood inside. The piece of wood had carved runes in it, no way in hell he could read it, but somehow he managed to memorize the words he needed to say.

Carefully he takes the barrel with the false bottom and turns it over, it spilled over black sand making a small mound of it. He turned over the barrel again and in the bottom a circle of eldritch design was carved, nay branded by fire into the bottom. Eret quickly takes the piece of wood and puts it in the center of the symbol, he puts a knife on his palm and begins to slowly slide the cutting edge to his closed palm. As the first drops of blood trickled to the carved piece of wood he began to murmur the words that he was made to memorize.

"Cum triginta claves Bor viam aperimus fratrum nostrorum..." whispers gnawed at Eret's mind as he closed his eyes while thick shadows began to condense all around him.

"...Cum mille vocis bello, nos in ea... " many eyes began to look at him in the dark, a cold dark feeling begins to envelope his senses as he began to feel the effects of the spell, he was briefed on what will happen, but as he was given a short glimpse of the Immaterium the feeling of a normal human in its effect was absolutely horrifying.

Among the multitude of voices, whispers, promises of sweet ascension to a hellish fate, he could see in his mind the multiple denizens of the world that bends reality into something malleable as clay. Terrifying creatures that spoke of gibberish both mystified and understanding flooding his senses.

"...Cum duodecim plagas inferni, incidere hostes..." Oh! When will it end, the apparitions seemed real, he could reckon the beings would just stretch their limbs and reach for his supple flesh, creatures that invaded his mind almost the same as it invaded his vision clouded everything else. He must finish this, that much he knows, he must finish this or the creatures might drag him with them.

And as he slid the last of the blade through his willing palm, and the last of his blood trickled to the artifact he finally breathed out the last of the spell, "... et forti malleo Thor tore erimus mundi separet."

Eret fell to the wooden deck, his consciousness leaving his body. Yet the spell was complete and as the piece of carved wood began shaking in contained energy, the mercenary Captain smiled unconsciously and whispered, "The All- faðir verndar."

.

All of Neroth's eyes opened as the flow of nether energies suddenly flooded his senses, this spell was archaic and powerful, but it was unmistakable. A self-feeding spell that cannot be halted once the chant has been finished, a spell designed to nullify all sorcery within a fixed radius, and judging from the preparations it took a considerable area since his senses can't hear much of the whispers of the daemons of the Immaterium.

This is just great, he should have felt this when it arrived, but how-

He raced towards the balcony of his room and quickly found the source of the disturbance. With muscles shaking in rage he grabbed his staff and strapped on his daemon sword. Neroth was livid, he probed that Captain's mind in full, stroked the skeins of his fate, and extracted images on his mind that he felt it. That mon'keigh actually felt it! He shouldn't have been able to hide anything from him, it was as if a-

The sorcerer stopped and rubbed his chin. Yes, it was possible, but he killed the previous sorcerer at Nargothrond. Burned his body inside out and threw its soul to oblivion, but this spell they have applied here can only be explained by a presence of a Sorcerer. He smiled as he reached the throne room, the nullification field of the spell was palpable and he rubbed his palms together trying to infuse power to his veins. It was not as strong as he would have liked when he had the Empyrean screaming in his mind, but he was still powerful, his energy reserves thrummed as he strode forward with a purpose. They were under attack and these simians that they hired as mercenaries would need a guiding fist for them to work properly.

The sound of a large gong being sounded reached his ears as he slammed the great double doors open with telekinesis. Clearly the mon'keigh guards have been alerted by the horribly vibrating ship and have awaken probably more than half of the garrison.

A man lumbered towards him and bowed his head respectfully, "My lord Neroth, the new guy's ship began vibrating and we decided to raise the alarm."

"Excellent work Captain," Neroth smiled his fangs baring, "Prepare the defenses, the enemy is coming."

"Yes my lo-"

Kjud stopped and looked up into the night sky, a loud whistling of the wind can be heard as a blue plasma blot came hurtling down from the heavens.

.

"DRAGONS!"

From the darkness erupted leathery wings and snarling teeth, dragons of all shapes and sizes seemed to penetrate the gloom as fire and confusion erupted within the ranks. The plasma bolt that hurtled to the ground threw Kjud and Neroth away from each other. From every battlement the defenders quickly rallied and began loading ballistas, mounted crossbows called scorpions, and catapults. Lighting the tips of their projectiles the arrows and bolts began lighting up the darkened skies.

A steady barrage of anti-air fire dampened the dive bombing dragons as screech of dying dragons reached their ears. Very fierce counter-fire then began as all battlements began practicing a well-known defensive technique. With each individual battlements alternating fire, a reloading section of the wall can be covered by those on its side, thereby providing a blanket of protection along the walls and most especially along the two gates. One fronting the sea, the other fronting the island itself. As the alarm bell sounded more and more of the garrison was roused as the day of their battle has finally arrived.

From the top of the black obsidian tower, a signal pyre was lit that could be seen by everyone on the whole island. From a distance an answering flame pyre could be seen as the Lavalout settlement that was guarding the beach entrance was also alerted.

More and more dragons swooped down as the Commander of the Riders circled the battlefield. He nodded knowingly and four riders peeled away from him, their objectives known before hand as they flew in different directions. The one in the black dragon remained circling the battlefield, looking for any changes in the enemy.

Seeing the carnage that the siege engines from the enemy is causing their dragons. The front liner for the Riders raised his doubled edged sword spear and willed his dragon to swoop down towards the first battlement on the gate fronting the island's entrance. Wrapped in a cloak of shedded dragon skin and covered by a mask made of the same material he shouted with all the strength he could muster. His Nightmare responded in kind and breathed fire on them as they landed with great force on the first battlement. The force of their landing swept away any enemy in the immediate vicinity as a substantial firestorm spreads through the area. Stunned with the force of their landing and terrified of the fire, some of the defenders took a step back. A weakness that Snotlout capitalized, with his burning sword spear and his cloak burning, he charged the enemy as they broke on the first blow towards the enemy. As the Rider dealt with the defenders, Hookfang incinerated the siege engines and smashed with his tail the smaller weapons. Still burning from head to tail, everything both dragon and rider touched was incinerated swiftly.

The mercenaries tasked to guard the gate battlement rallied and charged Snotlout, but it was too late, all of their siege engines were smoking and burning. The skill of the Rider also cannot be denied as he easily held off more than six men at the same time, the location and size of the walkways can only go five men abreast. The six trying to fight Snotlout was having difficulties with spacing and with their mobility impaired, the Rider picked them off one by one.

His armor an impenetrable cuirass made from Gronckle iron and his arm was wrapped in an armored sabot of the same make. Like a wall of metal covering him, swords and spears have no effect and arrows even crossbow bolts could not pierce Snot's armor. His burning cloak also drove fear into the hearts of his enemies as his skull helm of the same iron was locked in a silent scream of despair. With a swing of his sword-spear he plowed through a wooden shield cleanly and shattered the other four that was wielded along side it. The weight of the weapon and his fury could not be contained, his previous failure and weakness bearing down on him as he directed all these powerful emotions to their enemies.

From afar overlooking the gate that Snotlout is attacking, a hovering Gronckle and her mount swayed slightly in the wind. Covered by darkness he quickly sets-up his Windlass crossbow and took out the bolts from his bag. With motions honed by continuous practice in the dark he quickly armed his black arrows and sniffed the cartridges that he was going to us. Fishlegs wasn't the most combat oriented of them all, nor was he even very good at offense like Snotlout given his size, rather it was his brain that could match Hiccup that was his most prized quality. The dragon skin cloaks that they wore, the medicines they were using, including the destructive implements he would use, all thanks to his innovations. And with that knowledge secured in his mind he loaded an explosive cartridge, spun the wheel on the windlass, loaded his Black Arrow and aimed.

The chaos of battle and fire that Snotlout is doing provided the perfect backdrop as the whole defensive wall was lit up amidst the gloom of the night.

Fishlegs smiled and released his weapon.

The Black Arrow was hidden from sight as it sailed through the dark and its ingenious design and deadly capability cannot be denied. Unerringly it struck the battlement on the section right beside Snotlout and instantly exploded scattering men and material. Not surprisingly Fishlegs began cranking his windlass again and loaded a new Black Arrow. Squinting his eyes as he aimed for the large ballista on the adjoining battlement he triggered the release mechanism and another Black Arrow sailed through the air.

As it found its mark, the Arrow shattered the wooden brace of the ballista snapping the bow arm due to the torsion of the drawstrings, inside the Black Arrow's shaft is a pressurized container of dragon gas and pellets of saltpeter with gunpowder. As the container is ruptured by the impact of the arrow releasing the gas into the nearby air, the head of the arrow is actually rigidly resting on top of the shaft. The hole connecting the two is lined with black stone flints. As the shaft pushes forward from the slack of the arrow head like a modern piston, it spills sparks of fire as the flint and steel rubbed together. The sparks then ignite the escaping dragon gas, and the exploding gas triggers the gun powder and saltpeter providing a large explosion.

The bewildered enemy never knew what hit them. In any case the two part trigger was designed both by Hiccup and Fishlegs, he can only grin as he perched on his hovering dragon and rained destruction on their enemies.

As soon as the dragons poured from the darkness and the large alarm gongs sounded through the whole island due to the attacks, five longships charged the beaches that was being held by the Lavalouts. With the Chief leading the heavy infantry, and his son the more light armored riders, the main bulk of the army fell to the responsibility of Spitelout. Now aside from Gobber, he was also the 2nd hand man whenever they would march their warriors. He stood on the bow of the 'Leviathan Spear' with Bjornn and Lugnut beside him. Directly behind them stood the Warrior's Three, they would help lead the charge towards the gates, hopefully break through the Lavalout's line of defense and then push towards the Citadel.

"This feels good." Fandral's booming voice carried over the din of battle.

"The wind here on Midgard feels good," the stoic of the Three quipped.

"The wind always feels good with you Hogun," Fandral teased, "Remembering your family?"

"Shut yer mouth."

Fandral and Volstagg sniggered beside him, their combination of plate, scale and lamellar armor awed the Vikings. Not that their armors and weapons are of low quality, since the inception of the boulder type dragon irons to their weapons. They have had armaments that are stronger, flexible and able to better hold up under duress. But the quality of forged Asgardian weapons cannot be denied, it glimmered and centuries old of scarring and battle damage still evident on the tough armor. They kidded between themselves, but standing a foot taller than most Vikings they could be quickly picked out of a crowd. With the darkness covering their approach they reached the shoreline and beached the longships quickly.

The Leviathan's Spear took the center of the beach while the Sea Wing and the Kringolith flanked it. Taking up the flanks are the Green Dragon and the Spear of Odin.

Immediately, Spitelout the Warrior's Three and close to all the warriors in the longboats disembarked. As they hit the beach a loud cry came from the tree line as the Lavalouts waited for them. The Commander of the Berkian Army raised his sword and shouted in reply. As the battle is joined and the shouts and screams of fighting reached its peak the ships were all pulled back to the sea by the dragons they were carrying on their Carriers. More and more the Lavalouts poured out of the treeline, but the Berkians had one numerical advantage. Their dragons incinerated all combatants that were not currently engaged. Being sprayed with liquid fire could spread fear and confusion even to enemies as deranged as the cannibalistic Lavalouts.

As they reached deeper waters the longships unfurled their full sails as they turned and made their way to the other side of the island.

.

Meanwhile

.

The Holy Knights of Aragon that survived from the battle at Berserker Island separated from the flotilla of the Berkians as they approached on the other side of the island. For the promise that they have given and as a manner of revenge to the deaths and loss of their flagship the Azotea de Los Erejes, arrayed their ships to the wall and gate house facing the sea. The firestorm happening inside the Citadel that came from the initial bombardment of the dragons couldn't be more fortutious. It served as a perfect backdrop to the gloom of the night.

The 'Espada Santa', Helmut's ship concentrated its broadside towards the gate house, while the 'Santo Cuchillo' aimed both for the tower and the walls. They would provide fire support and break the gates as soon as possible. The defensive battlements were still defending themselves against the dragons and they have remained unnoticed until now. They fervently prayed to God that their status remain so.

"Comandante," the Captain of his ship saluted, "Estamos listos."

Helmut nodded and said softly, "Discresion a fuego." (Fire at will.)

One by one the cannons breathed fire and expelled their iron shots in an arc, the whistling sound of multiple cannon shots sailing through the air the only warning that the Coalition defenders would ever hear. Their barrels spewing fire revealing their position right away, but no actions was taken against them. Either too busy or distracted with the more immediate threat of the swarming dragons. The Knights and the sailors with them continued the bombardment of the sea wall and they encountered no counter-battery fire whatsoever.

"Sigue disparando," , 'Keep firing or fire at will' the Knight Commander ordered, "con rapido."

"Si, Caballero Comandante."

The sound of naval guns pounded the whole island as the other ships from Berk approached the two galleons. The last remaining Inquisitor, Cardinal Martin, stepped behind his nephew and spoke in hushed tones.

"Remember our objective."

"I have not forgotten Uncle, we shall take it as soon as we can."

"And what of your woman?"

"You have my answer already. I do not wish to repeat myself."

"Very well Knight Commander."

The Cardinal stepped back and looked at the raging inferno inside the Citadel, the barbarians managed to utilize the dragons that they have effectively. Normally, a Citadel of that size would require more than a few days of battle. Yet, these Northern Barbarians managed to seize the initiative and seemed to besiege the two gates right away. Also, judging from the reserve held back by the leader of this rabble, they have more in store.

.
Meanwhile

.

Eret's ship was being swamped by enemy infantry on all sides, the gang plank actually snapped in half by the sheer amount of enemy charging up the ship. On the sidelines, Neroth channeled his power in vain as he tried to pummel the exposed ship with his abilities, but the spell that was casted by their newly hired mercenary hindered not only his power. It also shielded the ship from instant destruction by enveloping the stricken ship with a protective cocoon of energy nullifying any ranged spells or damage by catapults. There was simply no other choice but to overwhelm the defenders with sheer numbers.

The Dark Sorcerer grinned evily and slammed his palms together, shielded or not he would not suffer this affront to his power. Feeling the powers of the Immaterium finally suffused him with enough energy, he aimed his outstretched hand towards the ship and cried, "De profundis inferni, mortem te condemna!" , 'From the depths of Hell I condemn you to death'

A black eldritch lightning bolt shot out of his open palm and shattered the shimmering shield, it penetrated forward destroying everything in its path. Snapping one of the main mast of the butterfly sails, the yard arm clattering to the ground and clubbing a few of the soldiers storming the ship. The shield flickered out of existence as a loud cheer erupted from the enemy, Neroth cackled madly as he charged his hands with more energy.

The Sorcerer began to move forward, but a whistling projectile exploded right in front of him as he was flung backward. The Dark Elf landed on his feet, although a bit singed at the side due to the blue plasma bolt that exploded near him. Neroth grinned evily, a loud thud scattered everyone around him as a black Night Fury barred their approach of the ship. From its back, a young man with dark green scale armor stepped down and fixed him with a withering gaze.

"Ah, the young mon'keigh pet that my kin had availed themselves of."

Hic drew his twin swords as they pulsed with energy anticipating their hated enemy near them, Neroth merely held his evil grin and said, "Feeling revengeful for the 'Black Doctor'?" the Dark elf approached and drew his black cursed sword. It was also vibrating in anticipation, and above the din of battle the other soldiers formed a ring around them to keep meddlers away at least.

In a blink of an eye they were upon each other, Toothless leaps towards Eret's ship to defend it against further enemy boarding. As they neared each other Neroth swung his black sword forward, its black blade shimmering with the reflection of the surrounding fires. But it did not meet the intended target, the young Heir easily parried it with a swing of his own sword. The sorcerer's staff hummed while Hic peeled away to the left and dodged a bolt of lightning. Neroth laughed maniacally as he also jumped backward and blasted Hiccup with bolts of black matter. The floating bolts of destruction seemed to merely pass him, yet what he managed to do is move impossibly fast for a human. His years of warfare making his body react instinctively and without pause, survival and revenge his main motivation.

"It was foolish of you to come before me alone," Neroth grinned and began to gather power in his hands again. He should finish this whelp soon, for if one of them appears others are not too far apart.

"I was never alone."

The Sorcerer imperceptibly opened his eyes wider as realization dawned on him, too late as Hiccup's arms and hands glowed with an inner light.

"Fratres ad me..." , 'Come to me my brothers.'

As he finished speaking 7 more people stood behind him as they stood up straight with their unblinking eyes focused on Neroth. Kaldr approached in front of Hiccup and spoke softly with pent up rage and bloodlust seeping into his voice.

"Neroth of the Thousand Deaths, you owe me a debt of blood," the Archon of the White Hands gritted his teeth in anger, his barely contained anger making his muscles shake involuntarily, "I, Kaldr of the White Hands will see you dead this day."

"Finally!" the Sorcerer gasped as the Immaterium returned to his senses, their screams assaulting his mind once again and he looked at the White Hands, part intrigued and part deranged, "Finally... I see... I see death."

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To be continued...

Author's note:

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"Cum triginta claves Bor viam aperimus fratrum nostrorum." - With the Thirty Seven Keys of Bor, we open our way for our Brothers!"

"Cum mille vocis bello, nos in ea. - With the thousand whispers of War, we call to them, "

"Cum duodecim plagas Hel, incidere hostes. - With the twelve plagues of Hel, we fell our enemies."

" et forti malleo Thor tore erimus mundi separet. - and with the mighty hammer of Thor, we will tore this world asunder."

(T_T)

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Scarabeye3000