When Farran woke up he felt rather stiff. Sleeping on the hard muddy ground had not done him any favours. At least it beat sleeping in a cell, that was for certain. Not to mention, he hadn't been found by the riders during the night which was a huge relief. Now he had to do the same during the day where he would be that much more vulnerable. The hunter secretly hoped that the Northern markets would be exceptionally busy today. He needed as much cover he could get if he was to survive the next day or two.
Wiping whatever manner of dirt and grass clung to him, the hunter rose up onto his feet and looked out to the sea. All he needed to do now was wait for some new ships to arrive.
Knowing the island well, Farran hadn't just arrived up on any old beach. This one was commonly known to be used by buyers who were either too cheap to pay for their boat to be held within the islands many harbours or preferred to shop for more underhand and often dangerous items. And hopefully, one of them were in need of a new boat. Selling the now useless transport would ensure him enough coin to buy what he needed and if lucky enough hire a travelling merchant ship to drop him off to the nearest hunter base.
Luckily he did not have long to wait as the first few ships came and landed up on the beaches front. Some wealthy, some poor. Every single one seemed to be in sailable conditions, unfortunately for the stranded hunter. He carefully watched as the buyers either offloaded their cargo or immediately headed through a nearby clearing in the trees which led to the main market on the island. So far, things didn't seem to be all that promising. At least not until he noticed a trio of what seemed to be traders arguing amongst each other. One was holding a broken oar while making his anger known to the others.
Farran frowned. Looking at the group and their predicament it seemed likely that he would convince the three to trade some food for his oars but he'd get so much more if he sold the boat too. Maybe convince them that they could use it for firewood or rather whatever they wished to do with it. The hunter inhaled and decided to try his luck. He walked towards them, hoping that his time in captivity hadn't rusted his people skills.
Farran did what he could to fight tooth and nail for the traders to buy the boat as well as the oars, but these three clearly had some experience and weren't so eager to just buy from their first catch of the day. It wasn't until he brought up the fact that he was with the dragon hunters that they started to go softer on him and were quickly willing to buy the oars for bread, meat and a carving knife, enough to last the day. The sudden change in attitude caught Farran off-guard, noticing the flash of surprise as he mentioned his allegiance to the dragon hunters and it became clear that they hadn't changed their minds out of respect. Deciding not to press the matter Farran thanked the gentlemen and let them be. He had been up for an hour and already the gods were smiling on him.
In the next few hours that didn't seem to be the case anymore. No-one on the beach was interested in buying the boat, prompting the hunter to head up the man-made path through the forest and into the market.
After a twenty minute walk, lugging his items with him in a small burlap sack stored in the boat he had tried to sell Farran found himself at the edge of the market. The place was incredibly busy. The people browsing and buying numbered in the hundreds and just as many stores and businesses to support and entice them with their vast collection of items ranging from food, objects, weapons. A few places even seemed to be willing to hire people for either money or an item of their choice. Farran hoped that here he would have more luck getting rid of his baggage.
The hunter drifted from stall to stall seeing what was on offer and trying to see if any owner was interested in buying a small sea vessel. There was nothing on offer that Farran considered worth trying to get. An hour later, he gave up and decided that now was a good time to hunker down and have a bite to eat. He wouldn't be doing himself any favours if he let himself starve.
Making his way out of the crowd, the hunter managed to find a nice secluded spot where he could sit and have a moment to himself. He took out the carving knife and a full loaf of bread and cut himself a few slices. He would need to cook the meat to eat it but he could do that at the end of the day when he wouldn't be distracted with making the most out of his remaining hours. The Northern markets weren't open all day after all so the sooner he completed his task, the sooner he could relax.
As he ate he thought about what he could do to sell his 'merchandise'. He was thinking too small, selling to only the traders and other sellers. What about the hundreds of people who were out here also buying? He'd need to bring the boat all the way up to the market to do that but it was worth the time and effort going back down to retrieve it. It was far from the main path so he didn't imagine anyone would try stealing it. He swallowed his bread, wishing he had some water to wash it down and headed back the way he came.
Thanks to a couple of friendly hands, Farran managed to get the boat up to the market in about the same amount of time he had taken to walk down. Farran imagined the extra hands helped out because he was slowing their own progress but he didn't really care. All that mattered were his increased chances of attracting a buyer. Dragging the wooden object to the side near enough to the other stalls the hunter did what he could to convince everyone near him to buy the boat.
The amount of time he needed to wait was shorter than he had expected. Only half an hour passed before an interested pair approached and looked over the boat from bow to stern. They seemed most impressed in the fact that the boat had been made out of what was known as a Loki tree. A rare resource in the archipeligo. It apparently produced a type of wood that was known to be lighter and stronger than most other kinds of wood. It reminded Farran of the difference between iron and gronckle iron. This seemed to win the buyer over as he offered a fair sum of money for the boat. It wasn't much but it ensured his survival for a few days extra if he spent it sparingly.
Deciding to keep the money for now instead of spending it right away, Farran stored the coins in his pocket and was thinking of taking one more look around the stalls, more to pass the time. Then he would need to head to the docks and make sure that any hunter ships had docked. Considering that he had not seen a single one since his arrival he doubted that there were any here. When one hunter was here there were often another dozen scattered about. Today, he was the only one. Taking that into account Farran couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable, like a speed stinger without its pack. If he got into any trouble here he was on his own without backup, and all he had for weapons was a carving knife mainly used for cutting food.
"Perhaps taking a second look at the marketplace would be a wise idea." He made a mental note in his head.
Before he could carry out his own suggestion, he heard a noise. Something distant but stood out among all the chatting Vikings that surrounded him. As he listened he noticed the sound get louder and louder. This time, he stopped to listen, making sure that nobody ran into him. It was an odd 'Vwoosh'-like noise that repeated itself over and over again, stopped for a while and then started up again. The more he heard it, the more he realised that it sounded like... flapping wings. From a dragon flying. That meant two possibilities, a rouge dragon or far more likely...
The shrill squawk of a nadder screeched from up above and a large shadow passed over him, with someone riding on top of it. There was only one Viking he knew of that rode a blue nadder.
Farran wasn't surprised by her sudden appearance. He honestly expected one of them to show up sooner. Regardless it was another obstacle to deal with. The trickiest one he would be forced to deal with but an obstacle nonetheless. He continued on naturally and as calmly as he could to avoid suspicion. There could have been more combing the area for their prize, most likely were, but he wasn't going to make it easy. Even as a prisoner he had proved to be a thorn in the riders sides at times.
As he casually walked forth, he kept his eyes on the dragon as it started to turn around for another look. Farran wondered if he could sneak down to the beach while the monster searched, or did they already have another one of their beasts patrolling the area there too? As he wondered this, the nadder started to drop lower and lower in altitude as it flew in Farrans direction. The hunter didn't consider anything of it, just the dragon trying to get a closer look at the crowd below. However it continued to drop until it was over their heads. This set off serious warning bells. Then when its clawed feet began to swing forth seconds away from him, he acted!
He threw himself to the side as the claws clenched up right where he was standing and knocking him and a few others to the ground! The nadders actions sent everyone into a frenzy as they began to run in all directions, thinking they were under attack. Farran tried as quick as he could to get up and avoid being thrown to the ground as everyone barged past him trying to get to safety! His brain was in as much chaos as the panicking marketplace as it tried to figure out the top question on his mind.
How had the dragon spotted him so easily? There was no way it could have seen him on the first flyby! He wasn't even facing its direction when it flew over!
Then, Farran realised one of the more crucial and well known facts about nadders. One that he should have realised much earlier! Their sense of smell! How many days had that thing been around him for? Long enough for it to catch his scent at least! No wonder it found him like that!
Realising that hiding was a pointless strategy, he did the only thing he could and run with the crowd. A temporary solution but it bought him time to think as he watched out for any more attempts to scoop him up. Unfortunatley the only one on his mind was fight! As much as Farran wanted to give in to that slowly growing urge, he had to remember, all he had was a knife! One that probably wouldn't even cut deep enough to do any actual damage! But at this rate he might not have had much of a choice!
He looked back to see the dragon have another go at catching him as it dived down. Giving into his rash decision he pulled the knife from the sack, threw said sack to the side and after delivering a small prayer to the gods charged! The screaming crowd thinned out and he ran into a full on sprint. Something the dragon noticed and challenged as it dove faster towards him. The two close the distance and as the nadders claws opened up again, Farran held the knife up with the sharp edge of the blade facing the dragon and used his other hand to reinforce his grip. When the beast was at a terrifyingly close distance the hunter dropped to his knees and held the knife up. He skidded forwards and was almost thrown back as the knife met some strong resistance. The dragon shrieked and a slicing sound graced the hunters ears.
He looked up at the knife to see that it had actually held, unbroken against the attack. A small line of blood coated the edge of the blade showing that all he had done was give the horned menace nothing more than a mere scratch. Still, it was going to take much more than a small cut to make them give up. Especially when the dragon came round yet again. This time to land. The beast carefully took its time as it placed both feet on the ground, trying not to apply too much pressure to the one Farran had cut. From its back, the interrogator jumped down and brandished a large double sided axe with a determined glare. She gently rubbed the nadders scaly beak to soothe it before turning her full attention to the hunter.
"Looks like Hiccup was right about you running all the way to the Northern Markets. I almost feel sorry that I'm going to drag you back. Almost."
That was all that Farran needed to take a defensive stance. He switched his hold on the knife to a reverse grip. His weapon would do plenty more damage to a human than a dragon, but against Astrid alone he was still at a serious disadvantage. Both sides knew it too as Astrid grinned.
"Or you could just give up right now. You hunters are quite good at that more than anything else, aren't you?"
Farran didn't respond. He knew she was just taunting him. Trying to make him mad. She continued.
"Okay, more silence. I know a few riders who would do well to take a page out of your book."
"Did you come here to just talk or are we going to fight?" Farran spoke up, getting more and more bored the longer she droned on for. Astrids grin widened a little.
"Thought you'd never ask."
The rider wasted no time in charging, axe held behind her, ready to swing as she let out a vicious war cry. She covered the distance between her and Farran in no time and swung her weapon. Farran jumped backwards as her weapon cleaved through thin air. She didn't stop at a single strike and continued to attack forcing Farran further and further back. Her unrelenting fury kept him from striking back. The one time he tried he was immediately disarmed as his knife flew off to the side. So much for a fight. The rider was much stronger than she looked, and more battle hardened than he was.
The hunter, refusing to give up tried to go for her legs whenever she swung the axe, trying to force her on her knees. Other than a few knocks she seemed to only be amused by the weak resistance. Farran scowled. He was not used to fighting other humans. Only dragons. Even as their prisoner he had not been able to pick up any sort of information on the way his enemies fought when it came to close combat. This fight was going to be over before it had begun.
"Wow, I was expecting better." Astrid taunted. "Given everything Heather said about you I thought you would be at least challenging. Guess she and I were both wrong."
Farran nearly snarled.
Heather. She was the reason the hunter was here in the first place! The reason he had been thrown into the hands of the riders to begin with! He was angry to even be thinking about her at a time like this.
No. Not angry. More than that.
Hateful.
The more he thought about the traitor the madder he became. He could almost imagine her insulting smile, mocking him from the safety of the hunter base. He had not made it this far just to be caught all over again! And he certainly wasn't going to let his former interrogator stop him!
His heart began to beat rapidly.
His face contorted into a furious snarl.
Right now, at this very moment, all the hunter wanted to do was give this Viking... no, this dragon rider... this demon lover the most crushing defeat of her life! Then he would do the same to Heather and her monster! And after that, unleash his rage and hate upon each and every dragon in the known Viking world!
Each. And every. Single! One!
Astrid continued her assault, smiling confidently sensing her victory at hand. She continued to attack, refusing to give an inch to the hunter. Then, after finally backing him up against a tree, she swung her weapon for what would be the final time. Only now she would use the blunt side of the axe to knock him out. She swung overhead.
It didn't hit its target.
The hunter, in one single swift motion had grabbed the handle.
Astrid was surprised from the sudden reaction. Enough so that she was distracted for a second.
Farran, with the same furious glare he had just sprouted tugged the axe back hard enough for Astrid to stumble forth. Then, putting as much strength and pent up rage as he had into his other hand, the hunter formed a fist and sent it right into the riders face as hard as he could. He was rewarded with a sickening crunch and the sight of his tormentor flying back a few feet, releasing her grip on her weapon altogether.
Her nose was broken and bleeding.
Not surprisingly her nadder, who had been confident in its riders abilities was now angry and charging itself, allowing Farran to switch his attention to a target far more deserving of his fury. He gripped what was now HIS axe and also charged forth to meet his foe.
And in his hate, he would be unrelenting, savage and without mercy.