The Lost Boy IV - The Hidden World

03 - The trappers' plan

Far away from Berk, on a gloomy island surrounded by war ships, covered in ruins and hiding in its depth a whole base ; a barge had just docked, depositing a bunch of men who were particularily troubled.

Those posted near the entrance of the base readied to 'welcome' the intruders, before recognizing them as their own. Those who entered were only three, and they were arguing to know who was going to talk. None of them wanted to be the one to report. When they entered in the basis, in the shape of a large arena where other trappers were moving cages full of captive dragons, they felt even less brave. At the back of the arena stood a more private room, separated by a few steps. There were a group of people gathered around a map, spread on a wooden table. It was their leader with his three sidekicks.

The men from the last convoy that had been attacked by the dragon riders were coming to report to their superiors, but their loss was never some news that man was taking easily.

''Sir ?'' The braver of the three hesitated.

''What is the report ?'' The man dressed in black asked.

He was not pretty bulky, but rather tall. Some could call him slender, but he still was dreadful in battle. When he was not wearing his armor, he was always dressed in black. He used to move slowly, almost solemnly, and was always talking softly and calmly, which was more threatening than anything. Noone knew when he was angry, noone knew if he was going to forgive them or punish them.

Around him were standing his three mates. Two men and a woman, all of them dreadful in combat, as we could expect it from the ones that called themselves war-lords.

They were three, these war-lords. Ragnar was an infamous viking with facial hair redder than anyone they had ever seen, always dressed in blue and golden leather armor, showing off the armorial bearing of his viking clan. Chaghatai Khan, the other man, was almost as tall but a bit less muscular, dressed in red and bronze armor. The design of his armor and his face showed his asian origins. Then there was Ack, a bulky and grumpy woman. She was wearing brown and white, silver-like armor and white fur. She came from the northern territories but noone knew from where exactly. No one really knew anything about her, actually.

But wrost of all was not the mates, it was the dragons. Since they had been captured two years prior and trained his way, the leader was always keeping two out of the six close to him, like an escort.

They were not really tall, smaller than Night Furies, but they had large wings and a long thin tail with a rounded shape at the end, hiding a venomous sting. They had also retractacle tusks, sharp horns on the back that almost looked like an armor, and some excrescence on their front legs, which reminded more of a scorpio, as sharp as Deadly Nadder's spikes.

The trappers knew theses dragons, they were Deathgrippers. They were mostly known thanks to their venom, it was driving their victims crazy, it was also said that this venom could be used to mentally control said victims.

Silence from the new incomers unerved the very-little-patient Ack, but she dared not to talk instead of the one they all called 'Sir' and General.

''Well, talk.'' Said man asked with calm.

Even if he was listening, he was not looking at them, still turning his back on them, bent over the map. The trappers were shaking, sweating, not daring to imagine how he was going to react to their failure.

However, their silence seemed talkative enough. Without moving nor straightening, still turning his back on them, he snapped his fingers and pointed the ground next to him, silently ordering them to come closer.

The two behind pushed the first trapper, as scared as them, forcing him to go while they kept a safety distance. When he found himself next to still-not-looking-at-him general, he swallowed hard but couldn't find his words.