This Is The Last Time (HTTYD)

Chapter One

TEN YEARS LATER

Stoick sat in the great oak chair at the head of a large table, where his advisers where starting to gather around. For seven generations, this tribe, his forefathers, had defended this land against all evils. The dragons, the merciless winters, and the occasional weird events that would occur and leave the village decimated. For seven generations these evils had failed to take over Berk, and for any chief, that was a successful career.

Now Stoick however faced troubles that could possibly end that streak.

The dragon attacks were the worst they had ever been. Multiple everyday, burning the buildings so fast they could barely douse the flames before another round of attacks came upon them. The fields were burnt to the crisp, with no hope of regeneration. With no food, no homes, and the wells quickly drying up, Stoick finds himself at a fork in the road. Stay and starve to death, or leave their home of seven generations and destroy his pride and reputation.

"Erm, Chief, the council is all here." Gober cautiously poked Stoick's arm, to rise him from his thoughts.

Stoick jumped a little, and took a second to recompose himself. "Yes, thank you Gober. Thank you all for coming." he greeted the rest of his council. "As all of us are experiencing, our supplies are running low. I'll have to tighten food rations again. The attacks are only growing worse, more frequent, and have destroyed almost all of our houses, and our farmlands are no longer any use."

A small commotion broke out throughout the table, but Stoick easily silenced it with a simple raise of his mighty hand.

"At this point...I hate to admit it, but I believe we are at an impass." Stoick gave a heavy sigh before standing up and resting his large knuckles on the wooden table. "I have told you all for years, 'We are Vikings! We don't run from our troubles!'. Unfortunately, I think this is a situation where it would be best to consider an alternative."

"What do you mean Stoick?" Spikelout asked, leaning against his elbow.

"I am saying that I think the best course of action for the future of Berk, would be to leave." Stoick slowly told the council.

A much louder outburst broke out, and Stoick let them voice their opinions, noticing that most of them were the same as his very own.

"And abandon our home of seven generations?" Bucket cried in outrage.

"I know, I know." Stoick said, shaking his head and letting his bushy beard brush against the table. "I don't like it either, but unless someone has another idea, I don't know how else to proceed. We can't live here anymore!"

"Um, excuse me, Chief." a small voice piped up, emerging from the shadows with his red cap swung over his shoulder, and his crossed beard smelling like raw fish.

"Trader Johann." Gober laughed in shock. "'ow did you manage to dock your 'ip?"

"A thrilling tale indeed." Trader Johann said, but was cut off by Snotlout before he could continue his tale. "Right, I come with is what I hope will be good news."

"Go on." Stoick said, ignoring the other vikings protests.

Trader Johann stepped into the full light, his slouched back covered in magnificent robes or dark red and blue, and gold hanging over his shoulders. "There are tales going our us traders, talking of a man who is known as, The Dragon Master. It is said, that he can control any dragon he comes across, including a Nightfury!"

Those around the table were not amused by Trader Johann's story and brushed it off as wasted time.

"It's a trader's tale, a myth." Bucket shrugged.