Following his father's death Hiccup is determined to do Stoick proud and fill his shoes in Berk. And he does... by slowly chipping away at himself. Sensitive Toothless knows his boy is getting lost but that's not the only troubling thing happening...
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"Great," Dagur flipped his knife back into his belt. "Welcome to the club. Now back to what we were talking about before Pallus, what in the world happened here? What are Piranharrow? Why was Alvin working with Romans? Where are the Outcasts? WHERE IS BERK??"
"That is a good question. Where is Berk?" The Chieftain demanded of the soldier, speaking in Latin.
"Really??" Dagur threw his arms up in defeat.
"I can't say for certain," Pallus tread carefully in his own tongue, "Because I know nothing of Alvin. But if Justinian has anything to do with it they will return to Alba and rejoin the rest of the Legion."
Alba.
Hiccup plucked the dagger off the ground, and remembering his hunger made a beeline for the loaf of bread.
Alba. That was a long ways away. He'd never even seen the country for himself. But is was a direction.
"So Hiccup whenever you feel you want to quit speaking in tongues and fill us in on anything let us know. It's not like we all flew a hundred miles to get here and help you out."
"Piranharrow are small, rodent like dragons that eat everything," Pallus answered Dagur in Norse, given Hiccup's silence. "Most of them are shiny black with red eyes but a few are silver with yellow eyes."
"Who's asking you?" Heather snapped, still brandishing her axe.
"He's right though," Hiccup admitted, "And they did this."
"A bunch of tiny little dragons?" Camicazi said doubtfully.
"A bunch? Try a billion. Try a trillion. Try whatever comes after that. There were so many of those things we couldn't even see the sky, and they covered the ground so it appeared to be black and moving." He tore another chunk off the loaf. "You were lucky you didn't run into them on your way here."
The three listeners grimaced at the thought.
"Did they eat the people? Or dragons?" Heather asked in horror.
Scree!
Having raided every saddlebag on each of the four dragons (which was quite a feat, when you consider "Stormfly's" personality) Trooper returned to the huddle of humans. He alighted on Pallus.
"One dragon," The young Chieftain answered sadly. "Poor Azule. It was terrible. But Alvin was controlling the swarm through a silver Piranharrow name Hotshot, and wouldn't let them touch the others." His voice faltered. "They were taken, all of them, aboard the ships, possibly headed for Alba."
Dagur's face paled. "Alvin the Treacherous has control of a giant, all-consuming swarm of hungry dragons, and all of Berk are his prisoners."
"Yes."
"It's not so dark as that," Pallus cut the tension and absent-mindedly raised his hand to pet Trooper. The little dragon dodged him at first, but after sniffing carefully accepted some scratches. "Justinian wants the dragons, he was afraid they wouldn't come peaceably if we killed the people."
