Riders of Scavenger Island

"I know your type!" She screamed "You are Scavengers here to take Marshy Morga's cheese and sticks! Well this is Marshy Morga's stick and this is Marshy Morga's cheese! Big Barry now!" Morga orders and the Terrible Terror on her shoulder spits out a bolt of fire at the vikings, narrowly missing them and striking the wet wood of the ship. "Ha, ha! Have seven more! Fire away boys!" She orders and all 4 Terrors began to spit fire bolts after fire bolts at the vikings while Marshy Morga grins a yellow smile and charges forward with her stick like a spear. She attempts to jump on the closest person, Garm, while her Terrors shot fire bolts at all the other Vikings. Big Barry takes to the air and fires a bolt at Dale, trying to force the bird to take flight and face the red colored Terror in the air.
 
Garm sighed as the old woman attacked, guess diplomacy was over for now, instead he'd have to defuse a hostile situation, even if she was attacking, he didn't feel comfortable killing a crazy old woman.
Dale gave a squawk and took flight, but instead of attacking the dragons, chose to fly back outside, using one of the holes in the hull of the ship as an exit, hoping to draw a few of the dragons away. Garm wasn't worried about him, he knew Dale could handle himself.
He turned his attention to the relatively harmless stick that came at him. Readjusting his hand on his bow he swung it and caught the stick on one of it's curved ends and sent it upwards into the air. He then went low and spun, using the same curve to trip the old woman.
He ducked afterwards as a bolt of flame came at him, he felt the heat as it passed by.
"Please, we aren't here to fight, we really are shipwreck survivors." He said, "We don't want your cheese or sticks. Just enough for us to survive with."
He dodged another flame as he finished.
 
Slode reaches a hand up to grab the staff out of where it had been in the air, grimacing st the very feel of it, before using it to scatter the terrible terrors by swinging it in a wide arc and sending them sprawling. Turning towards ‘Big Barry’ as he happily dropped the staff, the bulky man approached with axe in hand and a glint in his eye.

Despite looks, he didn’t exactly want to kill the animal. Rough it up or scare it maybe, but certainly not kill. There was a difference between a human attacking you and an animal following it’s masters order. The old lady should count herself lucky on that regard.
 
Averix : has by this time Found his Axe. Which still had some rope and notches in it, for long forgotten victories. He rose up from the sand and listened to all the Commotioj from inside the Ships Hull. Hey wait a second! That was His to Loot, of all non life sustaining loot gold was his end of story, and he walked over and listened in, trying to figure out Enemies and Allies alike. Sound like a complete and utter mess.
He comes around the corner and Smachs one of the Closer and Smaller Terrible terrors ( Can I have a reference pic? I’d look it up but I’ve got to go also may add more to this later)
 
Ren watched as the crazy crone started bellowing about cheese and sticks, then sent her little minions after them. "What the hell, lady!?" The other two went for Morga Mashy...Mary Morgan...Musty Morga...Whatever....they went for her and sent dragons sprawling in every direction. She dodged a fireball to her left from a fiesty Terror who had recovered and scrabble onto a crate. "Watch it!" Sliding to the left, she caught sight of the loon tumbling to the deck as her pests kept throwing fireballs. The only place they would't shoot fireballs...was at their master. Growling, she side stepped another fire ball and snatched up the woman by her arm from the floor, being neither overly rough or gentle, then stood behind her, daring one of her runts to send a fire ball her way. "Call them off and I let you go with your dumb sticks and cheese," she hissed, "We can stand here and it's going to get very uncomfortable. Your choice and I think it's a fair trade, hm?" Her saxe knife poking in the woman's back should give plenty incentive.
 
Outside of the wreckage, the clouds began to darken. A sign of a storm that was approaching. The clouds blotted out the sun as light rain began to fall and lightning struck the trees on the beach. Marshy Morga tries to fight the vikings but was quickly stopped and surrounded. In her old age she was weak and easy to grapple and when she was told to call off her Terrors she merely bare her teeth and makes raspy noises, similar to that of the Terrors calling them off. She was ready to give up to her captors, but the roar of a dragon was heard outside along with the crackling of electricity. Morga knows what this is, and grins a yellow smile. She quickly steps on the Viking's toes and wriggles her way out of the Viking's grasp. "If you think I'm easy then why don't you try to face daddy Skrill!" She shout and whistles. Her Terrors combined their shots to blow a hole in the hull, allowing her to run out and escape.

Outside the wreckage a purple Dragon with a crown of spike flies over the wreckage looking for an easy meal. Lightning seems to travel with the beast as it lands onto the sand with a powerful thud. The beast is the size of a horse with a fierce temperament as it doesn't hesitate to fire a bolt of searing lightning onto the wreckage to get to the potential meals inside. The beast, while fierce looking also seems to be rather skinny with some sections being skin and bone.
 
At the sound of thunder, Slode had been concerned about the food. At the sound of a powerful body impacting the sand, Slode had been concerned about their safety. When the wood around him had been blown apart by lightning, Slode was angry. It was plenty obvious that whatever in the nine hells a 'Skrill' was, it needed a damn attitude adjustment. Plus, he hadn't been able to work out some frustration on the terrible terrors and that hag before she escaped, and by the sound of it this was a little bigger.

Hefteing his axe, the brawny youth marched his way out into the rain and thunder, glaring menacingly towards the 'Skrill'. He had never heard of such a dragon, which wasn't a rare occurance sure, but the thing looked nothing like any he had seen. It was thin, spiky and the body almost whiplike. It's dark purple tone blended it perfectly into the darkness of the storm, and he could see the hunger in the creature's eyes from here.

Slode marched his way up towards the dragon, the animal watching him until he stopped a good few metres away, axe glinting in the light of distance lightning as he stoped just outside of the creature's reach, body tensed for that telltale glow of impending death. "Listen here you overgrown lizard." He begins. "I know you understand me. I've seen Berk. So you have three options. Leave now, and find somewhere else to hunt with that storm of yours. Stay and be damn quiet, and we can either feed you cheese or a falcon. Otherwise we point you in the direction of an old hag and some Terrible Terrors. Or..." at this he cracks his knuckles before looking at the dragon again, glint in his eye. "You can try that again, and see how well it turns out for you."

Pretty sure he could hear his mother slapping her forehead in the background.
 
The Skrill, in its hunger didn't seem to care what the Viking said to it. The dragon fires off a bolt of lightning once again, but the lightning flew past the vikings and strikes the ship again, right in the same spot as before, right where the cargo was stored. The hull explodes into hot splinters revealing that there seems to be several barrels that the fleet's attackers have missed. The Dragon seemed focus on the barrels as it immediately rushed towards them without any concern for the Vikings.
 
Garm had been shocked when the hull of the ship blew apart, the 'Skrill' as it was called was truly a force of nature, and something they really had no way of fighting. But it seemed to be kinda skinny and weaker than they were said to be
But thats when he noticed that it wasn't aiming at them, rather it was aiming at the barrels that were on land behind them
Making a quick decision he spun his bow back around and drew an arrow, one of his more barbed kinds.
He quickly tied a rope to the end, standing straight he took aim and fired. His arrow soared through air and impacted the barrel and dug in deep.
He tied the rope to one of the more sturdy beams around him and hooked his bow on the rope, using it to zip line down to the barrel.
He landed and dropped his bow, he pulled the barrel upright and pulled out his knife, he pried the barrels lid off and kicked it over. Spilling it's contents.
"Hey!! Over here!" He shouted to it, "Isn't this what you're looking for?! Here it is, all for you!"
 
The barrel falls over and out falls a pile of salted meat. Probably rations left on board by mistake by the fleet's attackers. With the meat exposed, the Skrill immediately goes in for the meat, gorging itself as if this was to be its last meal in months. It stopped suddenly however as the creature suddenly became defensive of its food, screaming and roaring at the Vikings as it began to swing its tail to crush and maim. As Garm was closest, he had the shortest time to react. Marshy Morga was hiding nearby with her Terrors behind a large rock, just about 30ft away, spying on the vikings to see how they would handle the Skrill.
 
“Oi! He just gave you food you damn gecko, be more grateful.” Slode yells at the beast over the sound of the storm as he stalked his way towards the beast, still out of range of the beasts’s body as it swung. He contemplated getting in the way of the tail, but he was pretty sure Garm was fine. The guy was lithe, so even if he was hit he would get back up again. Probably.

Plus the guy had just given away their very possibly limited food to what was essentially a wild animal. It wasn’t even a tamed one from Berk. He kind of deserved a bashing.

Idly he wondered if Musty what’s-her-face was still around with that horde of critters. The damn things were an annoyance, but they were still dragons and probably wouldn’t be deterred by a storm. Plus, the woman herself smelt like she only ever washed when the sky demanded it.
 
Garm had an instant to react and formulate a plan, as the Skrills tail came towards him. He needed to let it know that he wasn't a threat. As the tail came at him he dropped his knife and kicked up a piece of meat, he just barely caught it as the tail made contact, he grabbed it with both arms and he held on for a moment before letting go, the momentum carried him around and he rolled to his feet in front of the Skrill, this was it. If Berk had told him anything, it was that dragons weren't just mindless creatures, they could become good friends and allies, and this dragon was no different, it was scared and hungry, thus it was lashing out. He stood before it meat in hand, he held the meet out and took a step forward. He winced as the tails impact had bruised his ribs pretty badly. "It's ok, we aren't your enemies, I want to help you." He said in the most calming voice possible, "Come now everything will be alright."
If this failed it would probably be the end of him, but if he could get it to calm down and trust him, then maybe they had a shot of having a powerful ally all a good companion.
 
The Skrill seemed suspicious of the Viking but it was intrigued by the Viking's offering. It began to skulk towards Garm at a slow and steady pace with lightning cracking from its mouth, ready to fire off another bolt of lightning in case the others were going to attack. The creature made a slow growl, as it moved closer to Garm, using its wings like front legs. In what looks like no time at all, the dragon is right up in Garm's face, so close in fact that he could feel the dragon's breathe in his skin as it growled, waiting for the Viking to make his next move.

Morga was still behind the rock, watching the Viking interact with the Skrill. She signals her Terrors to take aim in case the Viking decides to attack the beast.
 
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Slode was torn between throwing his hands up in the air or exasperately putting his face in his hands at the other man,s actions. That fucker was either really envious of Berk, stupid, or terminally kind. Perhaps all. Most likely just the first two. If he could just get out of the damn way Slode could tackle the bloody beast and they would be able to not have to risk life and limb just to make a friend. Sighing, he put away his axe, making a mental note to grab one of his other companions, probably Ren, to have a little 'talk' with Garm about thinking ahead.

Grumpily, the man was tempted to move back underneath the shelter of the ship. He had seen anough tamings that this one was going well, and he probably wouldn't be needed. Unfortunately, despite how much he wanted to sock Garm right now, he had also seen them go disastrously wrong before and you typically needed more than one person against a dragon. Especially one that shot lightning.

Where was Misty Marsha or whatever it was? They were going to need to replace that food somehow, and he had heard dragon was, while tough, edible.
 
Ren yelped as the crone stepped on her toe and and all hell broke lose. "Really?!" What was a skrill? Shaking her foot, she growled and headed toward Mad Marsha...or whatever her name was...when the hole broke apart revealing what she could only assume was 'the skrill' swooping them up into a spontaenous storm with lightening included. Before anyone could do much thinking both of the guys leapt into some sort of action, whether it was attack or escape. A barrell of meat was knocked over which sent the thing into a feeding frezy, then one of them starting walking up to the beast. It had intellegence in it eyes. Just enough to be able to get his food and realize he could have viking desert. "Nope." She ran out of range of the creature. Hopefully.
 
Garms pulse raced as the Skrill got in his face, it's breath smelled of salted meat and ozone. He smiled reassuringly, "It's ok, I'm not a threat, here have some more, you must be hungry." He said as soothingly as he could. He held up the meat to it while also bringing his hand up to rub it's snout. "I'm a friend. Would you like to be my friend?" He asked calmly.
He knew what he was doing was stupid and the others might be angry with him feeding the dragon. But if he could befriend it then it'd be worth it. He just hoped it didn't decide he would be a good desert.
 
The Skrill stares at the Viking with a wild and intelligent eyes as if processing everything that had happened. The Dragon moves its head closer to the Viking and it stopped growling for a but a second before quickly snatching the meat from the viking's hand and swallowing it with a single gulp. The dragon could've taken Garm's head off if it wanted to, but instead it simply chewed on the piece before swallowing. A foreboding silence falls over the group as the Skrill resumes its low growl, but it didn't seem to be threatening, but of a growl of acknowledgement. The beast at first looked as if it was going to bite off Garm's arm, but instead closes its eyes and places its snout into Garm's hand. Acknowledging and trusting Garm as an ally.

Seeing this interaction between the beast and Garm, Morga's mouth drops and she calls off her Terrors. The druid comes out from her hiding place and screams to the Vikings. "You there youngsters! Parley! Parley!" Her voice reaches the vikings with no problem, with only the sound of thunder matching her volume. As she yelled she walks up to the Vikings showing no sign of attacks, holding up her hands and staff in the air and walking slowly with her Terrors matching behind her like ducklings.
 
"Well, I'll be damned," Ren smirked as she crossed her arms, "He didn't get eaten." About the time that cutesy little scene was commencing with Garm and the Skrill, she saw the crazy old lady running up to them shrieking about 'parley'. Yeah now that they had the thunderbeast all cozied up she was interested in surrendering. Ren turned and gave the woman a guarded look. "You suddenly want to get friendly with us?"
 
To say Slode was surprised he wasn’t wrangling a dragon that seemed to be a NightFury’s nightmare version would be an understatement. He was even more surprised when Misty Morsha came running out with her arms in the air, yelling for a parlay. He had been tempted to simply chuck an axe at her, but he wasn’t some muscle bound moron, so he sheathed the weapon and left Garm to his new friend (however surprising that may be).

Waking over to sand next to Ren, the man crosses his arms and levels a (hopefully intimidating) glare at the old hag and her Terrors. “What do you want?” He demands, keeping an eye on the animal out the corner of his eye. He still didn’t trust the thing. No animal he had met gets that friendly over a single piece of food.
 
Garms pulsed quickened when the dragon snatched the piece of meat away from him. And when it essentially nuzzled his hand, he was both relieved he wasn't dragon kibble, and awestruck that it accepted him.
He smiled at it, and rubbing it's head he said, "Glad we see eye to eye,"
Dale flew over and landed on Garms shoulder tentatively eyeing the scaly beast. The Skrill looked at the bird hungrily, then looked at Garm.
"Not food, but I'll help you get some more soon okay?" Garm said rubbing it's snout, to which it gave a low rumble.
When Morga made her plea for parley, Garm figured that he should go confront her with everyone else.
Stepping over and picking up another piece meat, he tossed one to the Skrill. "Come on, let's go see what she has to say, and then we go look for more ok?" Garm said to the dragon as it snapped the meat out of the air, it followed behind him.
Garm eyed the old woman, he gave people the benefit of the doubt, but she essentially threw a Skrill at them, so he wasn't taking any chances. "Now you want to talk?" He asked raising an eyebrow. A this behind him told him the Skrill had grabbed the open barrel before joining them.
 
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