A/N: Hey everyOne! here is my story. It will start off small so i might deete it later on ro totally redo it.

Viking measurments are on bottom A/N:

My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock The Third. Yeah I know great name. Vikings name their children strange things to ward off trolls and stuff like that. I dont think thats a reason as much as an excuse for their uncreativity. But I digress, i'm not an ordinary viking per se. One way to tell is that this is my journal. I know what you're thinking 'What is a Viking doing with a journal?' But as i already said, i'm a… strange Viking. Most of the Vikings ni this island have a 'Kill first, question NEVER' theology.(Not that they know what theology is in the first place.)

I'm more of an outcast of the tribe. Not the type of outcast you think of; big, bulky, mean, uncivilized.. not that they ever were. I am more of a friendless kind of Viking. Nobody in the village talks to me willingly or, Odin-forbid, interact with me!

A few days ago there was a raid on our village. It was one of the most costly raids in years. Well not cost wise but with livestock and materials. I had wheeled my contraption out of the smithy and down towards the docks but stopped at the top of the stairs. I stared out into the cold night sky and aimed my device towards an inpending shadow about a rôst away. I blocked out all outer distractions and waited for it to- BAM! The dragon came before i could finish my thought. At that very moment i fired The Bola-Thrower i was sent flying faðmr back. I quickly scampered back to my feat to hear a ear-piercing roar penetrate the night sky. I had git the NightFury!

Taken from the journal of Hiccup The Dragon Prince 58 A.D.E - 152 A.D.E This selection way chosen by the Council Of Odin in the year 683 to show that no one is better than someone else.

A/N: rôst: About a mile

faðmr: About two yards