Dagur eyed Hiccup, skeptically, "Do you know if the hunter had just delivered gold before telling you where it was?" The Berkian seemed nonchalant, "I don't know if they just moved some, but we can still check out where he told us." He pulled put a map and studied it closesly. "From what he said, it looks like the island that has the gold is right...here." Hiccup said, pointing to an island that was to the west of Dragon's Edge. Astrid got back onto Stormfly's saddle, "All right. Let's head over there, then." The other dragon riders mounted their reptiles and Dagur called for Sleuther to fly over. "We'll come with you." he stated. The Berkians gave small nods and Heather made a quiet grunt, an irritated expression still being on her face. They took off for this unknown island with hopes and suspicions in the minds of the vikings.
During the flight, Hiccup could feel the disapppointment emanating off of his friend and tried to divert thoughts from their previous failure with the auction. "Hey, how'd your mission go?" he inquired. Dagur shrugged, "Nothing too good yet, but I'm hoping that'll change soon." A memory tugged at Hiccup's mind, "You know, you never did mention what this mission is." he mentioned, as casually as he could. The Berserker smirked, "Nice try, Brother, but I'm aware of that." Toothless uttered a quiet noise and Hiccup patted his head, "With our help, you could get more accomplished faster." Dagur's smirk began to fade, "I appreciate the offer, but I need to do this with Strykie." A slight frown went over Hiccup's face, "Why is he so determined to keep this a secret?" he wondered. Even though he wanted to press the matter, the Berkian decided that he would let it go. After all, considering his last way of handling a mission, he was far from the appropriate one to chastise Dagur.
As their expedition came to a close, the vikings saw an island in the horizon. "That must be it." Hiccup pointed out. "What's your plan for this?" Dagur asked the heir. "We land and start searching." he replied. Sighing, heavily, the chief rolled his eyes, "Okay, well I'm going to circle the island while you do that." The twins made faces, "Why fly around the island? All the cool stuff's going to be on the land." Tuffnut mentioned. "Just want to make sure that it's not a trap or anything. I'm still not sure if that hunter gave you the right information." Dagur answered. When he finished, he saw the Thorstons writing down something in a scroll. He squinted to see what it was, but could not make it out. "We'll check it out down there and let you know what we've found." Hiccup told Dagur. The Berserker rapped his fingers on Sleuther's saddle, pensively, "There's more than the problem of hunters showing up. We don't know anything about this island, so there could be just as much danger from whoever lives here."
"Do you think that half an hour will be enough before I come to check in on you?" Dagur inquired, staring at an object. He was trying to decipher whether or not it was a giant Night Fury juggling axes. Snotlout heaved a large sigh, "And maybe you can feed us our meals too." he said, sarcastically, "And whatare you looking at?" The Berserker blinked a few times and shook his head, "Nevermind that last part." He cleared his throat, "It's just a precautionary measure." Fishlegs looked open to the idea, "It never hurts to be a little wary." he noted. This earned him a mild scowl from Heather, making him shrink. Again, Snotlout sighed, "But it does hurt to have more than one Fishlegs. Looks like I'll have to be the adventurous one." The Jorgenson puffed hinself up as far as he could go before popping. "Oh, gods." Hiccup murmured, "That sounds like a plan, Dagur. We'll see you in a bit." The riders flew downwards, Heather giving the chief a deathglare as she passed him. Once they were there, Dagur and Sleuther began to do their rounds.
While flying around, Dagur's eyes shifted to and fro. Everything looked as though it were real and yet common sense informed him of his mistake. "No, there's not really a Scauldron doing cartwheels." he scolded hinself. Giving Sleuther a tender pat on the head, the chief spoke to him, "Strykie, I'm going to need you to let me know what's real and what's not. Daddy's mind isn't doing too well right now." The Triple Stryke made a noise of comprehension and they kept flying. At every new supposed anomaly, Dagur watched Sleuther for any sign of being on the defensive. While this was going on, the riders had begun their scouring of the island. They split into groups, in hopes of finding something in a speedier fashion. "Ugh!" Snotlout groaned, frowning, "This is taking forever, Hooky. I bet the others have already found the gold and are just letting you and me continue this wild yak chase." Hookfang shook his head, amusedly, at his rider and followed behind him. The viking leapt over some bushes and yelped. Hearing that and a subsequent thud, Hookfang rushed over, but could find no trace of the viking and only of some delicious looking fruit.
Since hearing Snotlout yelp was nothing to blink twice about, Sleuther initially took no real notice. That was until he heard more yelps and suspicious sounds. Dagur observed how the dragon had tensed up and did so himself as well. "What is it?" he asked. Sleuther flew around the island once more and stopped, facing out towards the sea. Dagur squinted to see what he was look at and Strykie went closer. In the distance, a fleet of hunter ships were approaching the island. They moved so quickly that waves were hardly able to form. The Berserker cursed, "Let's tell the others." The two sped through the island and could not find the Berkians in the forest. "We could go further into the island and hope that we find them in time, but those ships are covering too much ground and might reach the land." Dagur thought. "Let's try to fend them off." he told Sleuther. They flew back to the seas and were glad that they had. In that span of time, the ships were already about to dock. One ship, in particular, was very large and looked impenetrable.
A few blasts proved that hypothesis to be correct. To best utilize his firepower, Sleuther shot the smaller ships. Some were sunk, but the large one still pressed on and docked on the shore. A massive amount of hunters piled out of the vessel and Sleuther sent some blasts their way. Swooping down, he picked up one viking in each of his tails and flung them into three more. This was followed by shooting the hunter piles and leaving them as bonfires. Even with this strategy, there were too many to stop. Every time Dagur thought about jumping off of Sleuther's back to stop more hunters, he caught an arrow before it could hit the Triple Stryke. The hunters would have to be stopped in another way. Dagur would not endanger the life of his friend if he could find a different plan. A main issue of his was that not only were the hunters a problem, but also whatever was keeping the Berkians at bay. Dagur needed to make sure that Sleuther still had some blasts left for any possible follow up attack. While his own blades would have been readily used before, he still found it challenging to decipher reality from delusion. Thusly, they were not used as much as he would have liked.
Slowly, the hunters were picked off, although they were able to make their way up through the island. Dagur could not help but notice that they seemed to not be laying siege. They knew exactly where they were going and had a plan in mind, though he wished that he knew it also. Shields defended the hunters from the onslaught of blasts and their quick movements made it difficult for them to be carried away. They trekked along what looked like a mountain with a tiny, dark speck. The farther they went, the more a small, black dot appeared to be an opening. Soon, Dagur realized that it was not a mountain at all. It was a volcano. The remaining eight hunters went by the volcano, bows ready. When Dagur and Strykie entered, they saw a large dragon chowing down on the volcano's lava. The hunters were aiming their arrows at it and Dagur threw a blade into three of them, leaving only four. Given the tight space of the volcano, the vikings were not privy to as much maneuvering as before and Sleuther took short care of them.
With the last thud of the hunters falling, more vikings entered. These, however, were not hunters and consisted of the dragon riders and some other vikings in black garments. Dagur tapped his chin for a moment, then snapped his fingers with a wide smile on his face, "You're Defenders." he stated. The vikings were mildly taken aback by the recognition. "Yes, we are." a tall, blonde woman said, almost suspiciously. She stared at Dagur, warily, though the look faded into one of being impressed once she saw the hunters sprawled across the floor. "I was positive that Viggo Grimborn would have planned something like this." she said. A grateful smile engulfed her face as she regarded Dagur the next time, "I am Queen Mala of the Defenders of the Wing." The Berserker smiled back, "I'm Dagur the Deranged...from the Berserkers." he added, unsure if it were always customary to add your place of residency or not. "He's with us." Hiccup informed the queen. She kept her focus on the chief, "On behalf of my island, I thank you for stopping the hunters from capturing our Great Protector." Dagur eyed her, curiously, "'Great Protector'? Oh, because it eats the lava?" Mala nodded, "Yes, without her, our entire island would be melted and destroyed by this volcano."
The Defender queen paused slightly, "You have saved all of our lives." Once this was stated, the other Defenders gave bows to the chief. "Now, while the lava is managed. The fumes are not most suitable to be inhaled by humans." Mala said, gesturing towards the exit. The vikings left the volcano and an odd sound caught Dagur's attention. Abruptly, he moved his hand near Mala, invoking her to get into a defensive stance. At a second glance, she saw that he had caught an arrow in mid air that was aimed for her throat. She smiled again and rushed off in the direction of the arrow. Sounds of shuffling ensued and the queen returned with her sword pressed into the back of a hunter. The other Defenders took the lifeless body away, oblivious to the disturbed looks they were receiving from the Berkians and the approving smile from the Berserker. Mala ran a hand over the edge of her hair, "Would you like to see the island?" she asked Dagur. Tuffnut jumped in, "Yeah, it'd be cool to see it as a visitor and not a prisoner." The queen led the way, staying near the Berserker chief's side.
The group was shown around the island and saw all the dragon-healing stations that the Defenders had. After a little while, they came up to a statue of the Great Protector. "What kind of dragon is your Great Protector? I've never seen one before." Fishlegs asked. "An Eruptodon." Mala answered, "We aid many various dragons, but the Eruptodon is one by whom we are aided." Dagur turned to her, "So, you'd be able to recognize a lot of different dragons?" The queen nodded, "Quite a few." With that information, the Berserker pulled out the journal and flipped to the back, showing it to her. "Do you know what kind of dragon this is?" Mala examined it closely, but shook her head, "I am sorry to say that I do not." The twins scoffed, "Well then, that's easily rectified." Ruff began. Her brother concluded the suggestion, "Don't say it." Mala looked at them and then at the other riders, in askance. When she received nonchalant shrugs from the rest, the Defender glanced back at Dagur. His face was clouded over with disappointment. "Perhaps, I can glean more knowledge by what is said in the book." Mala offered. Shrugging, the chief handed it to her.
Mala read over the jargon and her eyes widened, surprised. "Do you know what he's talk about?" Dagur inquired. Mildly dumbfounded, Mala nodded, "He is describing a place called 'Vanaheim'. In our culture, we believe that it is where elderly dragons go until they transition into the afterlife." She still looked shocked, "It seems that whoever wrote this, has somehow been there." Gradually, a wide smile covered Dagur's face, "Do you know where Vanaheim is?" Biting her lip, Mala and Throk shared a look. After a pause, she nodded again, "Yes, we do." Somehow, the chief's smile got even wider, "Could you tell me where it is?" Throk appeared as though he had seen a ghost, "I apologize, Dagur the Deranged, but such information cannot be disclosed. It has always been a sacred place for the dragons." Despite feeling a growing sense of annoyance, Dagur tried to stay respectful to their culture, "Okay, but I can make sure that no one is tampering with anything on Vanaheim, if I go there and bring him back."
Throk looked torn on what to do, but Mala interjected, "You have saved not only my life twice, but the lives of my people. The least that I can do is aid you in retrieving this viking." Still, Throk was upset about the decision, although he had to admit that he owed his life to the Berserker. Resignfully, he went to get a map. When he returned, the guard handed the map to Dagur. "Thanks. I promise that I won't be telling anyone else about this place." the chief swore. This comforted Throk, slightly. Dagur said a few more quick thanks and leapt onto Sleuther's back. The other vikings did not even have enough time to register what was happening before he was off. Time seemed to fly by and drag on, all at the same time, as they flew for Vanaheim. "Do you think that he's actually there, Strykie? Just think about it. We might finally have found something useful in this journal." After some more time, Dagur saw the island and they went past the same statues that Oswald had illustrated. The Berserker chuckled, "Did he really start sculpting while he was here?" Dagur looked at some pages in the journal and it said nothing special about them.
Once landed, the pair began their search for the missing Berserker again. For the millionth time, it seemed like they would come up with only nothingness. The most they saw were these weird looking dragons with twisted horns. "You've got to be kidding me! This journal's led us to another dead end?" Dagur exclaimed, leaning against a rock wall. He frowned at the unidentified dragons as they flew by. "They don't even look old." he noted, grumpily. Right when the flock was about to zoom over top, one caught sight of the two. It snarled and Dagur returned the growl. Next, it opened its mouth and spat teeth at the Berserker. He rolled out of the way, "Look out, Sleuther!" Dagur called. The Triple Stryke heeded the warning and maneuvered, shooting a blast into one. The dragons scattered and flew off. "Guess they look that way 'cause they aren't old." Dagur shook his head, "Well, at least while we're here, we should try to keep them from killing all the others. Nothing like preying on a retirement group."
The dragon-rider duo followed after the hunters, taking out a few. "Fast little things, aren't they." Dagur mentioned, irritated. One was tiring and the Berserker shot it out the sky with a blade. Suddenly, Dagur called for Sleuther to stop. The dragon did, but had no understanding of why. When he looked around, the reason was made clear. A giant skeleton that Dagur had seen in the journal was to their right. "We have to see what's through there." the Berserker stated. They went over to it and through the body, then out to a different part of the island. A bit more walking let them see a hut. Dagur dismounted Sleuther's saddle and stared at it. It had clearly been made as a shelter as opposed to a formal building. He came a little closer and saw that the door had been made by the wood of a Berserker ship. "So, w-we found something. Maybe even him. He's definitely been here. Um, that means that I just have to go up and go in. Sounds easy enough." With inordinately small steps, he made his way over to the hut. "Just...a few more steps." he thought, straining.
After an eternity, Dagur had reached the door. He placed his hand on it and a terrible tremor wrecked his body. Quick, deep breaths started and the viking heard someone. It was the sound of the dragon riders landing nearby him. "Wh-what are you guys d-doing here?" Dagur asked, embarrassing himself with his stammering. "They gave us another map to make sure that everything went all right." Hiccup told him. The Berkian eyed the hut, "Why aren't you entering?" Dagur looked at the doorway, pitifully. "Is it because you're afraid of what will happen if he's alive?" Hiccup questioned. Caught off guard, the Berserker glanced back at him, "How did you know that I'm looking for him?" Shrugging, the heir responded, "It was the only thing that made sense with how secretive and obsessive you've been acting over this mission." Dagur rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, I thought that I was being more discreet. I guess, I should just go in, huh?" Hiccup looked thoughtful, "No actually."
That surpised Dagur even more, "I shouldn't?" Hiccup shook his head, "You shouldn't. I mean, how much did he really even care about Heather? You clearly didn't think that he did. That's why you sent her adrift in the first place, right? And if he doesn't care about her, there's no reaon to find him because you know that he doesn't care about you. If anything, he'd probably be ashamed. After all, he's finally gotten to be away from you and it might be ruined if you go in there." Dagur looked at his friend with a hurt expression. He began to scowl, "You're an illusion. Hiccup wouldn't say that. None of my friends would." A cruel laugh emitted from the Berkians. "'Friend'? Is that what you think we are?" Fishlegs asked, harshly. Dagur kept his face cold and unreadable, "Yes and no. You are not my friends, but the real ones care about me." Snotlout chuckled, "From what you know and have seen, I'd think that the last thing you'd consider us to be are 'friends'." he said, making the last word sound very mocking. Dagur turned his head, "I'm not listening to any of you. I'm going in there and coming out with my father."
Dagur blocked out more hurtful jeers and comments from the vikings. Pushing through a final shake, Dagur pushed open the hut's door. Looking around, he saw something from his peripheral vision that horrified him. Closing his eyes tightly, the Berserker tried to make the illusion go away. When he opened them again, the sight was still there. He felt a pit form in his stomach and a lump in his throat. Down at his feet, the decaying corpse of Oswald the Agreeable laid. Dagur stumbled out of the hut to get some fresh air. Of everything that he could be thought to be, he was not weak-stomached. Queasiness was an unusual feeling for him and it was coupled with guilt. "How'd I just leave him out here?" Dagur moaned, "Who knows if either illnesses or starvation killed Dad." Strykie went by Dagur to provide comfort. The dragon nuzzled his head against his friend and made low cooing noises. Abruptly, he entered the hut and sniffed around. Standing on his hind legs, Strykie pulled down a cart filled with some scrolls. Dagur tilted his head and bent down to see what they were.
Upon doing this, Dagur saw some fruit recipes and a scroll with Heather's name on it. A small smile crossed his face, "At least we can have something to give Heather." He looked around the hut for a bit and stepped outside to prepare a proper grave for his father. Once he was done, the Berserker eyed the hut again. "Would you mind if we stayed here for a little bit longer, Buddy? I'm not ready to leave, yet." Sleuther nuzzled him again and gave a near smile. "Okay, looks like for a few weeks, we'll be here and then we leave to bring Heather her scroll."