It had been two weeks since the introduction of Destro and Farran had not seen hair nor hide of the large hunter since. Just as well really. He had enough on his plate as it was. The recruits he had been managing had done exceptionally well so far. Their number had shrunk down from eighty six to thirty five. Some giving up early during the first week while others seemed more willing to sabotage others in order to gain favour with the captain. A bold move that resulted in the elimination of those dumb enough to try.
Still, the young sailor had to take the good with the bad. Despite the cut down, thirty five sailors was still too much for the Unshakable Oath to muster. At least five more needed to be cut from the crew before the young captain could set sail. A real shame too. Those thirty five had put up with so much too. From the easiest of exercises Farran had put them through such as understanding certain parts of the ship or learning essential combat skills and techniques that he himself had learned years back all the way to running and swimming great distances. Being pushed to their limits yet still soldiering on. At least he could now be certain that these men were willing to work hard for the role they wanted.
Speaking of which, that was yet another thing that tapped at Farran's mind. Who got what role. There were several that the Unshakable Oath covered but when so many hunters wanted the exact same role it made things hard to settle. This was why Farran had decided to give the recruits the rest of the day off while he figured out who deserved what position. It was what he was up to this very moment. He had locked himself within his own captain quarters in the dark night where he could work in peace with only a lantern to give him enough light and warmth as the ship gently rocked back and forth. He calmly sat at his own desk reviewing dozens of pieces of parchment. At random he selected one and read it out loud to himself.
"Kril Sheepsfoot…" He read the name at the very top before slowly moving down. "Looking to be a cargo handler? Well at least that's one hunter who does." He sighed in relief, glad to have picked an easy page. He immediately signed the bottom of the page, giving the approval of the request. At least that was six down. Only twenty nine more to go. He picked up the next page nearest to him and checked.
"Earfoot Mackerel..." Farran read the name twice to make sure he had seen right. He resisted the urge to sigh. Vikings sure had a... creative way of naming their children at times. Nevertheless he continued. "Requesting to be a..." This time Farran did sigh. "Artillery operator. Great. Only six page in and that's the third one who wants the same job!" He vented. Artillery operator was rather straight forward. All you needed to do was fire and maintain the heavier types of weaponry onboard the ship, which for the Unshakable Oath were two catapults and two net shooters. If he could persuade the ship builders in an upcoming meeting tomorrow, maybe a couple of winches and a small ballista would be an added addition. A request of his own which he knew would be an uphill struggle to have approved but at least he could be a little bit more generous with requests. For now though, he just placed the request with another couple of unmarked pieces of parchment asking for the exact same role.
As the hours rolled past and the night became early morning, Farran checked the list he had kept track of so that he could remember the number of sailors and how many wanted which role.
Role number count
Thirty five hunters (Five to be dismissed depending on role number)
-Artillery Operator - 8 positions (Review after ship builders meeting but if no change to ship are seen necessary, cut 4 from this role)
-Cargo Holder - 3 positions
-Damage response team - 4 Positions
-Ship handler - 2 positions (1 needed to steer ship. Maybe promote the more promising hunter to handling Ship maintenance crew if hands are too full)
-Dragon loaders - 5 positions
-Ship maintenance - 11 positions (1 more needed for this role. Maybe transfer cut member from Artillery operator if promising enough?)
-Ship guard - 2 positions
That seemed to be in check. That was all thirty five recruits. Now all that needed to be sorted was who to cut and break the bad news to them once the sun is up. It wasn't going to be easy, but a captains position rarely was. Begrudgingly he grabbed every last paper he had set aside for artillery operator and went through the list one more time. The only thing he could be certain of was that at least a couple of potential sailors were going to be cut from this role for good.
././././././././././././././././././.
Another two weeks passed before things started to look more positive for the young captain. The Unshakable Oath had received its well picked crew and hard earned upgrades that Farran had fought tooth and nail though negotiations. The small ship had received two winches from the ship builders as requested but had refused the young captains request for the ballista, fearing the heavy weapon would have a serious effect on the speed of the defensive vessel. Still even without it, it was enough to convince Farrans successors that it was time to send the Unshakable Oath out on its first mission. Nothing too drastic. Just something simple enough so that the hunter organisation would be confident that the newest captain in the fleet was compatible and capable of pulling his weight.
Said mission had three steps. Sail out, catch dragons, return. About as simple as a job could be, or a job briefing at least. Regardless, a mission was still a mission, and one Farran felt ready for. It only took twenty minutes after receiving these orders had he returned to his ship, informed his men and set off. The Unshakable Oath was released from the docks and set sail into the great and vast beyond that was the ocean.
Looking down from the top deck of his ship to the open main deck below, Farran inspected each and every soldier as they worked. None seemed to have any hesitation or argument while they kept themselves busy, particularly the small handful that didn't get the role they wanted. Though maybe that was either due to them knowing their commanding officer was keeping a sharp eye on them or they were just happy to finally be out at sea. It was enough to appease Farran. The only thing that bothered him were the weapons they all carried. Every single member of the ship had been issued one, including the ship handlers and the damage response team. It wasn't hard to see why either, thanks to the ever increasing attacks of the dragon riders. Clearly Viggo, or more likely Ryker expected each and every man under their command to go down fighting if they had to. An understandable reason to Farran but that didn't mean it sat comfortably with him. It gave him the sensation that the world would suddenly turn against his ship and unleash hel upon it. An obvious exaggeration but one that wasn't easily shaken from Farrans mind.
Most men had received crossbows. Made sense since dragon riders rarely landed on an active ship deck but if they did land, only a few were properly equipped for close combat. A complication that Farran had, before setting sail overlooked, but intended to sort out upon returning. For now, the mission came first. Personal thoughts of approaching doom would have to wait.
There was no true destination set. It wasn't required. Many species of dragon would only just now be beginning their yearly migration, flying routes from one island to another across wide open seas. Some of these routes crossed into hunter territory so spotting a large flock of dragons wasn't exactly hard, nor did they require a long journey to reach. A normal migration flock would consist of several dozen dragons, sometimes hundreds. Easy pickings. At this particular time of year, nadders were the dragon of the hour to expect. An incredibly common breed but in Farrans experience one of the easiest to track and hunt.
Even so, a small flock would be their best bet. The Unshakable Oath would be able to handle a dozen dragons if they chose to defend themselves. Normally during a migration they would attempt to flee rather than risk injury or death but there was the rare exception that a group would be aggressive enough to fight back.
The gentle waves of the ocean rocked the ship ever so slightly but enough every crew member to feel. Farran took that as a good sign. A bright sunny day would bring fortune to the ship and its crew. No need to battle the seas and wrestle the ships wheel for dominance and control like he had been forced to do with the maelstrom. Plus he was capable of seeing nothing but clear sky for miles. Essentially there should be no reason the day would be met with failure. The gods were smiling upon him today.
"Sir! Flock sighted starboard side!" One member of the crew called to him breaking the calm silence.
Farran looked to the man then to where he was pointing. Indeed there was a small group of dragons, about six from what he could see heading what seemed to be their way. The captain flinched for a second thinking they were dragon riders due to the number, however upon further inspection he realised they were all the same shape and size. Just a rather small migrating flock thankfully. What more as the shapes grew larger as they narrowed the distance between themselves and the ship they appeared to lack the well known sleek form nadders were known to have. Instead these creature were smaller, but much bulkier. It didn't take long for the young hunter to realise that they were Gronckles and from the looks of it were flying from a spot of land also starboard of the ship. Gronckles were tough but they weren't the strongest of flyers, so seeing a group of them all the way out here was certainly unexpected, though he had a theory of why they were. In order to confirm it all he did was merely look the opposite way. There was another island much closer than the first one. These gronckles appeared to be island hopping. Made sense since the lumpy beasts were known to be slow and lazy. Clearly they needed to land on the closest island they could get to before tiring themselves out from extended periods of flying. Once they landed and regained their strength they would continue the pattern until they reached their destination. This little insight gave Farran an idea.
"Handler!" He addressed the man at the wheel. "Head towards the island portside of us, fast as you can! Once you're as close as you can get without beaching us have the starboard side pointing out towards the open ocean!"
The handler did not waste time and did as was ordered. Farran then turned to the main deck. "I want all stationary weapons manned at once! The winches, the net launchers and the catapults, all of them armed and ready to fire on my command! And someone keep an eye on those gronckles! If they get within firing range before we reach island I had better hear of it!"
"What of the crossbows captain?" One crewmember called out.
"Keep them holstered! Dragonroot has no effect on this type of dragon! Use them to injure and kill ONLY if you have no other choice!"
Farran also ordered the dragon loaders to be ready with nets and muzzles just in case. As gentle as Gronckles were when unprovoked, they could do a lot of damage if not dealt with quickly.
The ship sailed towards the island of interest at more than twenty knots as the crew carried out the orders given to them. Despite their speed the small group of dragons were slowly gaining, but not fast enough to reach the island before the hunters would. The wind didn't seem to be of much favour either. It's gentle breeze barely helped push the frigate forwards as it did the scaly lizards. Hopefully they would be much stronger should the young yet powerful vessel find itself against a proper dangerous foe. As a small defensible ship the Unshakable Oaths greatest weapon was its speed. Right now without the support of the wind it barely managed to outrace a group of slow gronckles, but with the sails supported by the three masts Unshakable Oath had and a more powerful wind, it would be unmatched against certain dragon species and ships. For now two active masts and a very light wind was all they had unless they wanted to lose time setting up the third and risk having the dragons overtake them.
It took perhaps five minutes until the vessel arrived at the very rim of the island. As instructed, the ships starboard side was pointed out towards the open sea, towards the still approaching dragons. No doubt the slow beasts were tired at this point and needed to rest on the island. This meant that the had no choice but to go over the ship to get to the patch of land, and they were too exhausted to run or fly away.
"Everyone to your positions!" Farran called out. "Weapon operators and dragon loaders on the main deck only! Damage control at the ready! Everyone else below deck, secure the cargo and ready the cells!"
Once the main deck was clear of all unnecessary crewmembers, Farran spotted the dragons almost within firing range. It made him want to man one of the many powerful weapons in use and take down what targets he could. Unfortunately that was no longer his role. On this ship he could give orders but not receive them. He didn't let the thought take hold for long as the gronckles drew ever closer. He quickly called for the catapults to aim for the sides of the flock in an attempt to bunch the group up, make it easier for the netters and winches to hit a target. Right now the starboard side had two catapults as well as only one winch and net shooter while the port side had the other two stationary weapons pointed the other way when the remainder of the herd passed from above. If everything went perfectly then all six dragons would be caught and caged, though such a result was unlikely and Farran wasn't expecting perfect results. But at the very least there should be no reason why they wouldn't be able to pull down at least a couple of the boulder munchers.
The gronckles were within firing range.
"Fire!"
The boulders propelled by the catapults flew up into the air with well aimed precision. The first one missed but managed to scare the beasts into bunching up closer. The second scored a hit slamming into the side of one gronckle, clipping its wing causing it to quickly lose altitude before crashing into the sea. The remaining weapons on the starboard side fired. Both caught their prize as one was netted while the grappling hook of the winch snagged a leg, pulling them in for the dragon loaders to deal with. Without having enough time to reload the weapons the remaining dragons flew over the ship as fast as they could move. The winch on the port side was the only weapon able to bring down one last target before the final two gronckles took refuge on the island. The trees made it impossible to see where they would land but it didn't matter. Four of six was good for a first attempt.
Farran continued to observe the weapon operators break from their posts to assist the loaders once all four dragons were onboard. One of which put up more of a fight and was able to shake off a couple of hunters before they could muzzle it and tie down its wings. Despite its obvious exhaustion it managed to draw strength and fight on causing some of the more inexperienced sailors to back off. Only when it slammed into one of the masts did Farran intervene. A captain he may now be but hunting these demons was still a part of him, and right now he planned on showing it through example.
Farran marched forth pulling a knife from his belt. The gronckle turned its attention towards him upon noticing that he was the closest of all of them, and continued to get closer without hesitation. In response the beast charged and slammed its feet against the boards that made up the deck. Its jaw filled with large teeth easily powerful enough to cut any Viking in half. Within killing distance, the monster lunged attempting to crush the boy with its main boulder breaking feature. The attack was avoided with ease and the hunter dodged to the side before quickly grabbing the base of one of the short wings with a strong grip and pulled with what strength he could muster. A pop and a roar of suffering was his reward as he dislocated the wing! Even for a powerful dragon the pain was extreme. His second hand holding the knife swung underhand until the bladed weapon pierced the underbelly. Despite Gronckles having strong, armour-like skin, its underbelly like most dragons was incredibly soft. The more the beast lashed out at the attack, the more Farran twisted its wing and drove the knife deeper until it was unable to fight on. It quickly became clear to the others that their captain wasn't trying to kill the beast but rather wear it down into submission. No matter how much it attempted to shake him off it only resulted in more pain until the dragon realised that remaining still was its only salvation.
Once calmed down, Farran ordered it muzzled. Only once it had been properly subdued did he release his iron grip and the dragon was taken down to the cargo holds with the other prisoners. He calmly ordered those not helping out with the dragons to return to their posts and to get the ship underway. They were done with this location for now.
The day was still young, yet already Farran felt a sense of enlightenment. Maybe that had to do with catching most of their quota already or the fight he had endured but either way, he looked forward to more hunts like this in the very near future.