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Summary
This is Berk.
It snows for nine months of the year, and hails the other three. Most of the food is tough, and tasteless. The people, even more so.
Most everyone believes in the gods. On its own, it's not such a bad thing. The issue is that they believe in the other parts of the religion, too. And unluckily enough, most of the warriors are really superstitious. The moment there's someone different, they strike.
They kill dragons. This is the story of what they did to the one that couldn't.
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“You’re not a viking,” his father cut him off suddenly, and Hiccup’s heart stopped. He watched, for a moment, as the anger in his father’s face ebbed away, the way his eyes shimmered from what could have been grief.
“Dad, please-”
All of the rage was gone. Now, Stoic just looked defeated. “You’re not my son.”