The rest of the day for the Unshakable Oath and its crew was not as exciting or as intense as it had first started. Only two other flocks had been sighted with just one engaged. The other was too far out and too fast for them to keep up with, let alone catch up. Because of it only two more dragons, this time nadders were caught and caged. All six of the cells on the deck below were now fully stocked meaning there was little else that could be done in terms of hunting, and if it was up to Farran he would continue to search for a flock to give his men target practise. However it wasn't up to him and he needed to return back to the hunter docks soon. The last thing he needed was to upset his superiors over being late.

He reviewed a piece of parchment that had been passed to him back on dry land, from his superiors giving details on what to bring back. All it said was 4 dragons, any kind preferable. Amusingly they thought it necessary to remind him of this simple task. Despite the minor insult however, he was sure the extra two imprisoned demons would gain him favour and prove his worth as a competent leader among them. It was clear from the noise alone of screeching demons underneath the main deck that the hunt had been successful. Knowing his men were more than capable of bringing the ship in, the young captain could tell that he was no longer needed to call out orders and chose to retire to his own private quarters, just underneath the ships wheel. Most ships carried one for all captains, though many were stored further underneath the ship on the same level of the cells. Perhaps it had something to do with former captains complaining about the overwhelming noises produced from their captives or it was so that they could reach the main deck quickly in case they fell under attack. Either way it was an upgrade Farran was thankful for, one of the benefits of being put in command of one of the newer generations of hunter vessels.

The room itself was still slightly cramped for space, given the desk that sat right in the middle of the room. Even so, the room was clean and offered a personal comfort, as well as being devoid of the scent of dragons. There was also a single weapon rack to his right which for the moment was devoid of any dangerous tools while on the other side, a second desk with a cage carrying a terrible terror sat. There was normally at least one of the little nippers on board a ship in case a serious development arose and the captain needed to get a message to other ships or hunter outposts. Though it wasn't uncommon for them to be used as reading lights either should someone decide to put their feet up. Even so despite the small room it was still Farrans to call his own. He shut the doors to the outside and gave himself the moment to sit down on the chair on the opposite side of the desk and pondered on how far he had come and what the future may hold. It felt inspiring to be part of such a powerful force with the sole intent of driving dragons from the face of the earth. Yes, most would be captured and sold but those dragons rarely lasted long. In time the world of Vikings would be at peace once more. Maybe not today or tomorrow, maybe after he had grown old gods be willing, but one day the dream would become a reality.

*Knock Knock*

Interrupted from his thoughts, Farran blinked before realising that someone was wanting his attention outside. He fought the urge to curse as it had only been minutes since he had retreated into the cabin, only to be called back out right away. Still, he maintained his stoic personality and responded.

"Enter." He called out and inspected the sailor before him. He recognised the man as one of the dragon handlers. "Do you have something to report?" He asked right away.

"Yes sir." He nodded. "The dragons have been secured in the cargo hold and we're ready to head back."

"Good. Then let's get underway." Farran waved off dismissing the sailor until he continued.

"There's something else sir."

"What is it?"

"Some of the men are saying that there's something circling the ship."

"Dragon riders?"

"No sir. Not from above, from below. A tidal class dragon."

Farran looked at the man strangely. Tidal class dragons were rarely aggressive against humans, and he hadn't stumbled into any marked territories as far as he had been informed back at the hunter base. "What kind?"

"We're not sure sir."

Farran grumbled under his breath before making his way towards the door. "Show me." He commanded.

The sailor did just that. He led Farran back onto the main deck where several members of the crew were ready with the stationary weapons once again, though none had fired yet. The young captain looked over the edge in time to catch a glimpse of a shadowy figure disappear underneath the boat. Five seconds later it reappeared, speeding through the water but staying within a reasonable distance of the ship. Despite its fast speed, it was easy to tell that the creature was too small to be a scauldron or even a thunderdrum. However at one instance when it seemed to 'glide' through the water it took on the oddly familiar shape of a night fury, but it obviously wasn't that. There was only one alive in the known world and even if it was that one, it wouldn't be capable of moving so quickly underwater nor could it hold its breath for so long without coming up for air. This thing was something else entirely.

His mind suddenly flashed to weeks back when he recalled a similar incident, not long after the dragons duel with the speed stinger when he found a creature of similar size and shape watching him from below. He recalled the two massive blue eyes watching him with curiosity before taking off so fast that Farran hadn't had time to react. Surely it couldn't be the same beast?

*THWACK*

The sound of the port net launcher released its payload with a whip-like crack as the sailor manning it had jumped the gun. The net had missed by a wide margin but Farran had already taken his eyes off the ocean before it could hit the water and furiously shouted at the operator to hold fire. When he looked back a few seconds later the dark shape beneath the waves was gone. Most likely scared off from the attack.

Farran held a snarl from escaping his mouth and ordered the crew back to work. The one who had prematurely fired was given the duty of scrubbing the entire deck on his own.

A few hours passed and the ship returned back to the hunter port. The dragon that had circled the ship did not return, yet its presence didn't leave the captains mind. It was hard to say but something felt weird about the encounter to him. He was sure he was overthinking it but then again... a dragon looking incredibly similar to a night fury, at least in shape was in a word, worrying. As Farran dismissed most of the crew, he decided it would be better to help out with the captive dragons still below deck and take his mind off of it. The mystery of the sea beast was a puzzle he would not be figuring out any time soon.

Upon taking the stairs down to the second deck, activity buzzed as the gronckles and nadders they had caught were tranquillised with dragon root arrows before being loaded and put into smaller mobile cages before being removed from the secondary hatches placed at the front of the ships, one on each side that swung open on hinges, created for this exact situation. Offloading of heavy cargo. Makeshift ramps were carefully placed from outside connecting the openings to the docks allowing the hunters both inside and outside the Unshakable Oath. At least the eight-man crew didn't need to worry about lugging the cages up onto the main deck much to their relief as older, less thought out ships would have had to do. One by one, they were removed from the Unshakable Oath as hunters on the outside checked the condition of each dragon. Especially two in particular who seemed to write down something on scrawls of parchment and were dressed in black clothing accompanied by what looked like a grey wool coat each. It didn't take long for them to approach Farran once they spotted him exit the ship. They had plenty to talk about with the young captain.

"Captain Farran I presume?" The larger of the two demanded upon reaching him.

Farran inspected the pair and nodded. "That I am."

"My name is Thicket. I'm your dragons Handling Inspector."

Farran raised an eyebrow. He was a what?

"Forgive me but I'm unfamiliar with that particular branch within this organisation." He apologised. The man blew wind out through his nose in a sense of humour and sported a smile.

"Most crews don't until their first mission. The idea of it is to help keep hunters on their toes and ensure they're prepared for new developments as they progress through the ranks. Anyone who has ever led even a handful of men in the dragon hunters has had a handling inspector assigned to them. I'm sure you understand that Viggo is the kind of man who appreciates organisation."

"Yes, I suppose you make a fair point. Though, exactly what is your purpose to me? Why should I need an inspector when I can merely write a report on the number of dragons I catch?" Farran crossed his arms and glared at Thicket. The question he had spoken was meant to intimidate and test the man to see if his words were as genuine as he claimed, and for good reason. Every now and then a soldier within the dragon hunter ranks would become a little greedy and attempt to leech off of the achievements of over more accomplished hunters, sometimes damaging the reputation of them in the process. This character before Farran happened to show up after a successful hunting trip and claim he is here to 'help'? Suspicion grasped him and he needed to test him on his word. Thicket almost beamed at the opportunity.

"Simple. Once the dragons are caught, The dragons handling inspector takes them to be sold for a profit. Most of the money made goes to Viggo and the organisation but usually around twenty five percent of the profits go to you and your crew." As the man talked, his hands made short quick movements as though trying to act out what he was saying with them. "It's our job to work out what dragon will make the biggest profit in what area. For example, A nadder could be sold to buyers for a hefty price while a gronckle could make a good lot of gold in dragon fighting arenas. The more you earn, the more successful my job is and the more recommended I'll be to others. I don't need to tell you that my line of work is rather competitive."

The more the man spoke, the more Farran noticed that he sounded calm and collected, which was good, but the way he talked made him seem nothing like a hunter or even a Viking. He seemed too fancy and more interested in his work. It was as if business was his life. Incredibly professional and prepared. Eventually he wore Farran ragged as he continued for what felt like hours before the young captain stopped him there. Clearly no hunter would go through so much of an explanation if he was up to something. Thicket chose the moment to move on to more personal affairs.

"Now, normally I'd operate without keeping much contact with those I work for but there was something I was hoping to cover regarding the dragons you brought back with you?"

"Go on."

"You quota stated that four dragons was the maximum number to catch. You have six."

Farran nodded, keeping the pride from his voice. "Yes, I do. The way I see it, the more caught the better. Would you not agree?"

"Perhaps from a selling viewpoint, and you're not the first to bring back more dragons than recommended. Though it does give you the responsibility of dealing with these dragons in whatever manner you chose."

"Can you elaborate on that?"

"Certainly. A handful of ships keep a small compartment of dragons onboard their ships permanently for personal use. Gronkles for making gronckle iron, monstrous nightmares for their gel, emergency food supply, you name it. Though like I mentioned before, only a handful of ship do so since the majority prefer to sell all their dragons for as much as they can."

The young sailor nodded. "I see..." He replied thoughtfully.

"If I may make a suggestion though?"

Farran nodded allowing the man to continue.

"Perhaps it would be rather prudent to keep the gronckle with the damaged wing and cut stomach. Unlikely that it would make much compared to the more... impressive dragons you have caged here. A resourceful Viking could create an unlimited supply of gronckle iron if he wanted to."

Farran eventually agreed. This person gave the impression that he knew everything about selling dragons and turning their abilities into gold. The young captain chose to follow his advice, at least until he gave him a reason not to. But there was still a flaw to his reasoning.

"I see what you are offering, but I am no blacksmith nor are any of my men. Even if I knew the exact ingredients to feed the dragon, that gronckle iron would just be nothing more than a useless blob of coughed up metal. What use would that be to me?"

"The only solution would be to have a blacksmith on board. Gronckle iron, like all metals must be shaped while it's still red hot so time is of the essence."

Farran grimaced. "And are there any spare blacksmiths among the hunter ranks?"

"Not at the moment, though there will be a few willing to work for you should you offer them something in return."

Of course it would boil down to trade. Farran was many things but a negotiator was not one of them. He knew that most hunters would likely attempt to take advantage of that and offer less for more. Something that seemed costly would be worth nothing and Farran wouldn't know it. It made his stomach churn.

"Then for the moment I will pass. The gronckle will stay on board my ship but until I have an actual use for such precious metal I will stay my hand."

Thicket reluctantly nodded. "As you wish. And the other five dragons?"

"I'll trust you to sell them. How long do you reckon it will take before they're all gone?"

"For an assortment of gronckles and nadders? Five days I would assume."

"Very well then. I shall see you in six."

Thicket and his all too silent partner who had listened in on the conversation left. Farran then returned to the confines of the Unshakable Oath to inform his remaining hunters that they would be housing one of the gronckles for a while.