Dagur and Strykie flew off for the islands that were near Berserker Island. They would start searching there and gradually move farther out. If Oswald had decided to stay on some land mass just off of their home, Dagur did not want to go past him. The dragon-rider duo perched on a ledge and the Berserker dismounted. "Let's see if we can find any trace of him, Strykie." The two scoured the entire island and found nothing other than a few Terrible Terrors. They left and continued to looking for the next few days, coming up with the same no matter where they went. Exasperated, Dagur crossed his arms, "He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air!" The viking paced back and forth, Sleuther moving his head left to right in order to follow him. "There's gotta be a better way to do this, Strykes. This, clearly, isn't working out." After a few more attempts to walk a trench into the ground, Dagur halted, "Maybe someone's seen him at a market. Why didn't I think of that earlier?" he asked, irritated with himself.
The Berserker leapt back onto the Sleuther's back and they headed off in the direction of the Northern Markets. When they reached their location, Dagur had the Triple Stryke stay hidden, to avoid any hunters seeing him. Having made sure that no one could view his dragon, Dagur made his way to the trading posts. One trader was looking bored, due to not having any customers yet, so the chief went over to her first. "Hello!" the vendor greeted, excitedly, "Care to test out some of my best maces?" Due to coming for business, the weapons could do nothing to catch the young chief's eye. "I actually wanted to know if you'd seen somebody I'm looking for." he mentioned. While visibly disappointed, the other viking was still hopeful, "Perhaps, but I am certain that one of my supplies could aid you in your search." Unravelling a scroll, the Berserker showed it to the trader, "Have you seen him around here?" She shook her head, "Can't say that I have. Sorry. Of course, I don't always pay attention to one-time buyers if they don't do anything weird. If I see them a lot, then I start to remember them. Like those people."
The trader pointed behind Dagur to a small group of people. All but one was dressed in black from head to toe. The one that was not appeared to be in charge and had a long ponytail. "Those are Defenders." Dagur was told. He turned back to the viking, "'Defenders'? Are they the security for this market?" The seller smiled, "They aren't security. That I'm sure of, but I couldn't tell you who or what they defend. Not too much is known about them. They just come in, buy some supplies, and leave. I've heard rumors that they're led by this ruler who's as tall as trees." she stated, eyes twinkling with imagination. Dagur thanked the lady for trying to help and went over to the other vikings. They were of little more assistance and he ended up leaving to go to the other markets. Neither the Northern nor Southern Markets had anything to offer, so the pair ventured to the Eastern. It was a stressful flight for them because that place was their last hope. Dagur had no idea where else they could go to get information on his father.
Within a few hours, the duo came to the Eastern Markets and landed. It did not look very different in contrast to the other markets, but Dagur hoped that it would have more knowledgeable vikings. He went up to a vendor and greeted him, "Could you tell me if you've seen this man or have heard anything about him?" The trader inspected the portrait closely, "I haven't seen him around here. I have seen these magnificent mugs, though. I'm sure that a toast will be in order, whenever you find him, and only the best should be used." Dagur sighed, "I'll pass, but thanks." The Berserker went and spoke with a few more traders, increasingly growing more hopeless with each one. When he showed the portrait to another, it was of absolutely no surprise that they also had no idea who Oswald was. Just as the vendor was about to apologize for not being able to help, he stopped and looked through some of his supplies. Dagur's brow rose as the trader lifted up a book for him. "It was wrapped in seaweeds and leathers when I found saw it wash up on the shore." the viking divulged.
"I've been trying to make sense of it, but haven't found anyone willing to buy. Seems like trash to everybody." the trader stated. He handed it to Dagur and the Berserker flipped through some pages. Keeping his gaze cool, he looked back up at the vendor, "I think that I can find some use for it. How much are you asking? The other viking shrugged, "I'm getting tired of seeing it. Two copper pieces will be plenty." The transaction was made and Dagur returned to find Sleuther. The pair flew off and excitement bubbled in the young chief's stomach, "Strykie, this has my dad's writing in it. It's his journal!" Laughing triumphantly, he looked at the back of the book, then glanced at the start and middle. His smile promptly faded. Taking quick, deep breaths, he spoke, "He..put the...whole thing in a poem form! Who could understand what any of this means?! If it even means anything at all." In vain, Dagur tried to calm down. "Of course, he made it into a poem. Why would he make his 'find me' book comprehendable? That wouldn't be like Dad at all!" Realizing that attempting a lack of anger was pointless, the Berserker just let out a few roars and began reading the beginning of the journal.
The rational idea seemed to be them returning to Berserker Island. That way, Dagur and Sleuther could decipher where they needed to go. Despite this, the viking was hoping that he could just read through to the end and have them fly to wherever Oswald's last location was. He had no such luck, though and ran an annoyed hand through his hair, "You actually have to follow this things gradually. Y-you can't skip to the back. You literally have to figure out what the heck he was trying to say and where he was from the very start. Listen to this one, 'From my right, I am reminded of dreams I had as a child. The tranquil scene I've loved so much. These, Thor willing, will guide me to my next adventure.' That's the first part! This is going to be impossible!" Dagur had a steadfast look in his eyes, "Remember why we're doing this. Come on. It's more than worth it." An island came up from their right and they landed on it, so Dagur could do more deciphering. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, tiredly, "Think like Oswald." he repeated over and over. "What place would have all these things he's mentioning?"
Pacing back and forth with the book in his hand, Dagur was wrecking his brain. More than anything, he knew that his father found silence to be the most serene. As much as the journal implied that he was loving where he was, that place must have been silent. The Berserker read that part again and a little before it. "Maybe 'from [his] right' is actually him looking from Berserker Island. Worth a try." he shrugged, "I think, I remember him looking that direction, dreamily." The pair set off for Eastern islands, arriving shortly. Dagur called out for Strykie to stop before they could land. "It's coated with Blue Oleander. That's why he remembers it being so quiet. No dragons could live here." The viking pointed to a ledge not far from there, for the dragon to rest upon. Once that was done, he began searching around the island and looking for any traces of the missing Berserker. Every cave was scoured for something that Oswald might have forgotten, however, Dagur could find none neither in a shelter nor out in the open. Within a few minutes, just about the entire island had been looked through and the viking read the next part of the journal again.
"I just don't see anything that looks like his favorite club. How am I supposed to 'follow the evening sun over it'?" he wondered. The Berserker walked some more and finally came to the only place that he had not yet searched. It was the most serene place in the entire island. "If this doesn't scream 'Oswald!', I don't know what does." Dagur thought. He glanced about to find something resembling a club and felt his feet digging deeper into the ground. Instinctively, the viking reached out and grabbed hold of a tree trunk. This had opportune timing as almost suddenly, the quicksand began trapping Dagur up to his waist. Keeping himself above the ground with his right arm, he raised his left hand to his mouth for a whistle. Strykie heard the call and, carefully, flew towards it. As the Berserker waited, he saw that, from that angle, the trees looked like one of Oswald's old clubs. "That must've been what he was talking about." he mused, smiling when he saw Sleuther coming near him. Utilizing his long tail, the Triple Stryke wrapped it around his rider-while still being far above any harmful plants.
"Thanks, Strykie." Dagur said, as he was put back on the saddle, "I found out what my dad meant and we need to head that way." The duo followed the upcoming sets of Oswald's "clues" and met danger after danger. On another island, they were being hunted by a flock of Changewings. Those dragons were relentless and even chased them after they were flying away. "What is their problem?" Dagur asked Sleuther, annoyed. A blast of acid whizzed past his head and a subsequent shot got on the Triple Stryke's back. After what had seemed like forever, the Berserker was getting fed up. "We don't have time for this." he grunted. The two tried to trick the other dragons into colliding with one another, but that plan did not work. Every escape and evade tactic, they had attempted. In a final, last ditch effort, Dagur did another whistle. This time, it was more like a dragon call and had an odd enough sound to. The Changewings tilted their heads, in confusion of what was making that sound and stopped their pursuit.
These sort of things continued and Dagur was beginning to think that the journal was less a way to find Oswald and more a way to die a miserable death. Each new danger infuriated Dagur, "He really couldn't have mentioned the collapsing cave?" he asked Strykie, "It's like he doesn't want to be found. If that's the case, why send this book out?" Flipping past pages only made him doubt what they should do. "Um, let's get you some rest. We can go to some non death-diary suggested island." They flew over seas for a nice amount of time until they saw a fleet of hunter ships. There were far too many to take on. Even indirectly could have proven hazardous as someone might have alerted the others. Still, Dagur wanted to go down, but looked at his friend beneath him and settled for sneaking around. Gold and jewels filled each ship to the top. A sense of dread filled the Berserker when he recalled the auction. "Great." he thought, grimly, "Even if they didn't lose everything, their plan clearly didn't work." Dagur took some mental notes of the hunters' faces and, speedily, the pair swooped down, snatching one up.
A blade to the hunter's throat kept him from calling for aid. The man trembled against its cool metal and looked into the Berserker's ruthless eyes. "An event occurred at your last auction. I see that you earned a lot, but any new gold in particular?" Dagur interrogated. The hunter gulped, "Th-the Berkians tried to trick us, b-but Viggo tricked them." The chief cursed, "So, you have the Berkian gold?" He received a nod in response and bit his lip. His frown transformed into a twisted smile, "You wouldn't happen to know where Viggo keeps his gold, would you?" This made the dangling man shake more, "I promise, I don't. He moves it around all the time. I-I really don't know where it is." Dagur stared into his frightened eyes and saw sincerity in what he had stated. He sighed, "Too bad." A quick slash drained the hunter of his life and he was dropped into the sea. Strykie, knowingly, started to change his course. "It's been weeks since they went to that auction. They don't have any money for purchases, so that means they're relying solely on commerce. If I know anything about Viggo, he either has already ruined the traders' routes to Berk or is setting that plan in motion."
Dagur and Sleuther returned to Berserker Island and the chief began arranging ships to be stocked with supplies. Soon, he was not required to be there to supervise and the viking let the others tend to matters. While this was going on, Dagur went to the prison and walked up to Ryker's cell. He unlocked the door and put an ax to the side of Ryker's head, "Since you worked closest with Viggo, you should know where he keeps his gold. Where is that?" The hunter smirked, "No idea. As much as he moved it, even I never was able to keep track. Only those who have recently transported his gold know where it's stored." The younger viking glared and was disappointed to see that he too was telling the truth. After sending a nice kick into Ryker's side,
as a parting gift, Dagur left the jail and checked on how things were going with the ships. "Everything is loaded and ready, Chief." Captain Vorg told him. "Good. We can set sail now, then. Everyone!" the leader called, "Set your courses for Berk."
Later that day, some Berserker ships pulled into the Berkian shore. As they descended from the vessels, the vikings could see the sorry state of the people. The Berkians were hunger-stricken and pitiful. Their dull eyes brightened at the sight of the food brought for them. A thousand "Thank you"s were given to the Berserkers as they passed out water, food, clothes, et al. It hurt Dagur's heart to see his allies like that. In a way, he considered them to be an extension of his own tribe. Sure, one that he did not have jurisdiction over, but one that he would do as much for as he could. Happy cheers alerted Stoick and Gobber to the visiting vikings and their faces lit up as well. "Thank you, Dagur." Stoick said, sincerely. The Berserker smiled, "Don't mention it. This is what allies are for." More items were passed around while the three vikings spoke. "How long have the trading routes been targeted?" Dagur inquired. "It feels like it happened as soon as we lost the gold." Gobber told him. "Do you know how the hunters are doing it yet?" the Berserker chief asked.
Stoick nodded, "Some sea dragon that they captured. Hiccup and the others are trying to take care of that now, but I'd be lying if I said that we didn't need food. Even with the routes open, it'll still take a while to convince traders to come and even longer for food to arrive." Dagur shook his head, disgusted, "It takes a certain kind of punk to go after their enemy indirectly like this. Did Hiccup tell you how Viggo's brother is in our custody?" he inquired of them, grinning. The Berkians glanced at each other, "Yeah, he told us about that." Gobber said. The trio helped make sure that everyone had had something that they could eat and it was done by the time the dragon riders approached. Though returning the greeting smiles of most of the riders, Dagur diverted his eyes from those of his sister. Even as her friends thanked him for helping, Heather did nothing beyond glare. The Berserker chief tried to ignore her harsh stares and focused on the matter at hand, "From your smiles, I deduce that you were able to free that one sea dragon?" Hiccup beamed, "It was not an easy task, but we were able to do it. And something more too." Dagur's brow rose, "What's more?" The riders gave knowing grins to each other before the heir spoke again, "We interrogated a hunter and found out where Viggo's gold is kept."