Dagur went to his hut to grab an ax and returned to the prison cells. Tapping the blade in the palm of his hand, he eyed Ryker, "I don't like people telling my business." he told, menacingly. The hunter smirked at him, "We figured that they'd enjoy the stories. Especially Alvin's." The Berserker was a mere millisecond away from lopping off the man's head, but restrained himself and smiled, "Not the wisest thing to provoke the viking with the ax and no chains; however, I want you to tell me where the auction is and when it'll be." Ryker pretended as though he was thinking about it, "Ya know, I just don't recall. Maybe I'll be able to tell you when Valhalla starts inviting people like you." Dagur shook his head, scoldingly, "Now, Rykie. What good will it do you to not tell me? If you're holding on to some abstract hope, you might as well throw it away. Tides have turned." His eyes lit up, "And I know the best way to prove it."

The Berserker chief put the ax back in its holder, ignored the eyes he felt watching him, and unlocked the cell door. Walking in, he relocked the cell and received a wary look from Ryker. "What're you doing?" the hunter asked. Dagur put his hands on his hips, "Do I have to spell it out for you? Come on, Rykerman. You remember what's done to captives." he encouraged. The chief went to the inmate and toyed with the chains, moving the lock nearer to him. He took out the keys and before Ryker could ask what he was doing again, he spoke, "Unlike you, I don't need a prisoner to be chained up in order to win. That's cheating." Under his breath, he snarled, "I hate cheating." Dagur had not yet finished unlocking the chains when he stopped. Swiftly, the young man drew his ax and dug it into the hunter's wounded leg. Ryker cried out and Dagur beamed, "Almost forgot about that. Now we're even for this fight."

The Berserker resheathed his weapon and got into a fighting stance. His excited smile soon faded as Ryker leaned against a wall, in agony. "What? So you can't take a little pain, but you can dish it out? You're all battle-hardened and stuff. I had hoped that you'd be more durable." Dagur complained, crossing his arms amd scowling. He paused long enough to tap his chin, pensively, and sighed, "I guess, you did wait until the next day for a fight. Even though it was because you were busy and not because Ineeded it. You, on the other hand, seem to." The viking sucked his teeth, "So frail. No wonder the other hunters and Viggo won't miss you. You'd just be slowing them down, especially like this." A laugh rose from his throat and he locked the inmate and cell back up. "See ya in the morning, Rykie." he called, then looked at the lighting, "Of course, it's not like you'd know what time it was anyway."

Dagur still tried to pay no mind to the peepers that had been locked onto him as soon as he entered the jail; however, the mouth that came along with the eyes would not be disregarded. "Other than the gained injuries," Alvin started, "ya've matured, nicely, from the last time." He smirked, "Even got a little beard growin' in." Dagur stared at the Outcast for a few moments, trying to let the image of the prisoner-being just that-sink into his brain. It was a difficult task to accomplish. "After I see him getting the same treatment as Ryker, it'll be easier." he mused. The Berserker began to smile at the impending torture of Alvin. "Who should get it first? Well, in line with the past, that would be Al. I'm sure he won't be so snarky after I run a blade through his gu-" "How's the lung? Still able to be active without breathing too much?" Alvin asked, interrupting Dagur's ponderings. He glowered at the prisoner, then smiled an unsettling grin, "I appreciate your concern. You'll be able to find out tomorrow." he promised.

Striding out of the prison, Dagur looked at the village which encompassed it. Night had fallen upon the place and the silence felt eerie rather than natural. From within a shadow, the young man thought that he had seen someone still awake. Somewhat leisurely, Dagur made his way over to the other viking, whose back was turned. "Don't want to waste time resting either, huh?" he asked, good-naturedly. The Berserker made a surprised gasp as the figure turned, glaring, "That's not so much the reason I'm here. Although, as far you know, I could be at eternal rest. Don't mind me, just away from my homeland and vikings. Without a care in the world. If I try hard enough, I might have even less cares for stresses than you do for me." Oswald said. Dagur closed his eyes, tightly, "I know that you aren't here, but I don't know where you are." He slapped his forehead, "Or why I'm still talking to you."

Oswald folded his arms over his chest, "You and I both know that you aren't fit to lead." This stirred Dagur's anger, "Really? You and I both knew that? Then why, might I ask, did you leave me to care for this entire island alone?!" he roared, "What we both knew was that I wasn't ready to have this position, then. It was especially helpful that you not only upped and left, but never offered me any advice on how to be in charge. So thanks for that." the Berserker added, sarcastically. The former chief remained quiet, with a blank expression. Annoyed, Dagur crossed his own arms, "Oh, so now you don't have anything to say. No unsatisfying answers or something else along those lines?" His father finally spoke again, "I can't answer any of that because you don't know." A cold look of disdain crossed the older man's face, "You can't even trust your own eyes anymore and you never could trust your mind. You're crashing down faster than you realize, Dagur." Oswald moved closer to his son's face, "Just make sure that you don't take my island down with you."

Glaring back, Dagur observed as the hallucination faded back into darkness. The Berserker walked back to his hut, limping more as no one was there to see him. When he reached the building and entered, it felt empty. As did he. He knew that Shattermaster needed rest, so Dagur attempted to push the lonely emotion far from him and distracted himself by sketching out and prepping the tortures that he would give to the prisoners the subsequent morning. This is how he spent the night and as dawn broke through the clouds, excitement filled even the marrow of his bones. After taking care of the last bits of preparation, the viking was so enthusiastic that he practically skipped back to the jail. Dagur entered the prison and went to the cells, a large bag over his shoulder and mug in his hand. He smiled brightly at the inmates and set the items down by Alvin's cell. Next, he unlocked the door and walked in. "Ready?" he asked the Outcast, excitedly as he started to unlock the chains that bound his wrists.

When he was finished, Dagur sent a punch into Alvin's face, knocking him back into the wall. Before the Outcast could get back onto his feet, properly, he was kicked in the stomach. Reeling forward brought him farther from the wall and the backs of his knees were kicked. More of this ensued and Dagur was eating it all up. This was what he needed. Anyone who could not see how weak Alvin was, was a fool. A threat was just about his literal antonym. When they reached the point that Alvin would die, if they continued, Dagur stopped. "It would be boring if you died so soon, Al." he commented, smiling, "Hey, did you get any hits in? If so, they were so light that I didn't even feel them." The prisoner snarled at him, "Is it really fair to fight someone who's been rotting in jail for three years?" Smile fading, Dagur spoke, "Yes, because mine were worse than yours here. I need to teach my Berserkers more ruthlessness."

"Plus," the chief proceeded, "is it fair to attack someone who might be mortally wounded? Are Outcast logics different?" Alvin simply glared more. "No need to be so glum. Look," Dagur said, grabbing the bag outside the cell and giggling, "I brought some gifts." The inmate watched skeptically as the Berserker began drawing out objects. "You have a new chain." Dagur informed, "Let's test it out." The viking attached the chains to the wall and locked them onto Alvin's wrists. The older man winced, "What kinda chains are these?" he inquired, painfully. Dagur grinned, "The kind that cut into your wrist just enough to make you almost bleed out, but also apply pressure to the wound to keep you alive." He positively beamed with satisfaction, "You should've seen the look on the welder's face when I asked for it!" Grabbing another item, Dagur hooked it onto the ceiling and tied it with a knot. "Now, what's that?" Alvin questioned. "A noose." the Berserker replied, "It's not as fancy as the chains, but I like the additions I gave it."

Having put the noose around Alvin's neck, Dagur stepped back to admire his handiwork. Immediately, the Outcast began fidgeting. "As you can tell, the neck part on the inside has been laced with poison oak. I couldn't get any fire fern in time, so you got lucky on that account." Luck was what Alvin felt he did not have, but he tried to not appear to be in as much misery as he was. "I'll leave you to your itching and bleeding for now, Ally. My other friend, I'm sure, is feeling neglected." As this was going on, Ryker observed in mild shock. He had underestimated the chief's vindictiveness and was not looking forward to his own "reward". Dagur unchained the hunter and smiled, "You saw the process." Ryker tried to be ready to move, however failed due to his injury and received a hard blow to the side of his head. The hit was so severe that, for a few moments, he could not see anything. Blindly, he swung punches and missed every one.

Dagur laughed at the spectacle and put the prisoner into a Berserker choke hold. Ryker, futilely, clawed at the arms to allow himself some oxygen. "I thought you liked chokes, Rykie. After all, you couldn't see a day go by without one occurring." The Berserker kept Ryker in the hold for some time until growing bored, then he kicked his fine leg out from underneath him. Being forced to stand on the wounded leg, the jailbird grunted in pain. Again, more of this and Dagur chained him back up. "I don't want to be redundant, so you won't get those chains." he assured. Despite the good news, the hunter did not fell more at ease. "Your chains have these latches on them that keep getting closer to the center, making them tighten and tighten. You won't have to worry about your wrists bleeding because there won't he any blood circulation. Well, you don't really need hands here, anyway." He cackled at Ryker's widening eyes.

The chief lifted the mug that he had brought and put it near Ryker's face. "Care for a drink? You didn't get any water since whatever time you did on the hunter ships." he asked. The convict turned his head, "I'm not drinking anything from you." he spat. Dagur shrugged, "Bold talk for someone who's only been held captive for a day. Whenever you're ready for it, let me know." The Berserker left to do his rounds for the island and saw that nothing was wrong. Some of the other Berserkers gave him wary looks again, though, and he pushed it away from his thoughts. That evening, Dagur returned to his hut. He smiled and sat down to a meal that he had prepared. The viking ate the food, "Yep, this is success. Alvin is pathetic and so is Ryker. I'm in charge of their lives, whether they last long or not. Everything's going great and it'll be even better when Rykie has to drink that water." he chuckled and it lingered until it turned into an annoyed groan. "What's the matter with me? I don't feel any better than when I was imagining torturing them. Maybe it'll change with time."

Days flew by and the prisoners were looking like they were grasping for the last bits of life that they could take. Even with all the pain that they were enduring, Dagur did not feel joyful. It made no sense to him, but he would continue. "It must be the Berserker blood. No matter what we do, if it's without our family, it just isn't the same." he thought one night. Another day came and as he dug a knife into Ryker's back, moving near the spine, the hunter could take no more. "Stop!" he shouted. The Berserker paused, "Because?" he dragged. "Because I'm going to tell you about the auctions. Viggo isn't helping me here, anyway." Dagur, carefully, took the blade out of his back and listened. Ryker told him everything that he knew about the auctions and the schedule that they followed-along with some other backup locations and dates. The chief nodded, impressed, "Good work, Rykie." he complimented. With a hoarse voice, Ryker spoke more, "I think that I will have that water-" he stopped, seeing Dagur motioning for him to continue, "Please." Ryker added, barely even able to say the word.

"How do I know that you're not lying?" Dagur inquired. "As much as sending you off to your doom would be great, if you survived, this is where you'd come back to immediately." Ryker divluged. The Berserker smirked and handed the prisoner the drink, since he was still unchained due to their "spar". Ryker downed the beverage in one gulp, looking very content. This did not last long, as his eyes went hazy and he stumbled back. Violent tremors shook his body and a painfilled grunt rose from his very core. "And even better work, Strykie." Dagur mused, "Gotta love venom." He stayed to watch Ryker suffer, but ended up going back to the stables, shortly. The information that he had learned would have been best to have been delivered as soon as possible. The chief got onto Sleuther's back and took off for Dragon's Edge. One thing was on his mind for the duration of the flight and it gave him as much hope as it did stress.

The Edge came into their sights and the triple stryke and viking landed. The pair found Hiccup and the other riders doing some flight exercises, to their mild irritation. "So much for trying to learn info, huh, Strykie?" Dagur asked, quietly. Toothless sensed the newcomers first and did his little grin at them. The Berkians were fairly surprised to see the Berserker and the other Berserker just looked upset. "Dagur, what brings you here?" Hiccup asked. "And how did you get past my defences?" Astrid inquired, shocked. Dagur thought back to having seen some ballistas on the ledges of the island, "Um, I don't think they went off." he answered, shrugging, "But I came here to tell you about Ryker. He finally spilled the beans about the auctions." The riders looked ecstatic, except Heather. "And we know that this isn't some setup between you two how, exactly? We should have taken Ryker, ourselves." she stated.

Dagur's brow furrowed, slightly and Hiccup spoke first, "Heather, Dagur isn't conspiring against us." he defended. The heir rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, "I was thinking about what we could do to cripple Viggo." Curiosity peaked, the Berserker questioned, "What are you planning?" "I think that we can put Berk's gold up for auction and use that distraction to get in close. That way, we'll be able to find the dragons and free them." Dagur stared at him, blankly, for a moment, "Berk's gold? As in all of it? As in, the whole island'll be broke if this goes south?" Hiccup frowned, "Technically, but it's not going to go south." His friend was still doubtful, "I can't force you to change your mind, though I wish you would. I won't be there this time, so you guys really have to be ready." Heather's eyes gaped, "Woah, woah, woah. He's not even joining us? Could you scream 'trap' any louder?"

Sighing, Dagur said, "I'm not trying to set you all up. Hence me trying to make sure that you're careful. I just have an important thing to take care of." Heather was not satisfied with that, "Can't it wait?" she pressed. "It's waited too long already. If I wait any longer, it might be too late." Dagur informed her. Hiccup wanted to ask what his task was to be, however, could tell that Dagur was not going to say. "Well, good luck with whatever you're doing." he wished him. The chief returned the sentiment and the two groups flew off in their separate directions. The Berserker rider patted Strykie's head, "It's time, pal. Time to do something that I should've a long time ago: Find Oswald."