By the time Farran woke up, his crew had already managed to get him back to land and more importantly, in dragon hunter territory. Considering the distance from Rust Burner island to the hunter base it was clear to him that he had been out for several hours, if not longer. At least it meant that the Unshakable Oath despite its heavily inflicted battle scars had hobbled back to the nearest base without any further incident. Even with the welcome relief it did nothing to stop the back of his head stinging.

Upon the first throb of pain Farran instinctively raised his hand to meet the injury, but all he was able to feel was a slightly wet bandage, no doubt wrapped around his head by a healer. At least it would keep his head from leaking if the wetness of the cloth confirmed how serious the injury was. After a few seconds of regaining his focus, Farran swung his body round and lifted himself off of the makeshift bed before looking around for the exit. The tent that housed him as well as others in need of medical treatment was large enough to fit half a ship in with only dimly lit lanterns to guide his way. A moment passed and he soon spotted a slit of bright light from the far end of the tent and moved towards it like it was some sort of beacon, all while ignoring the coughs and pained moans of sick or wounded hunters. No-one moved to stop him as he marched over. Injuries or not, there was work to be done.

Farran batted one side of the tents curtains to the side and his body was assaulted by the bright sun right away. He let out an uncomfortable grunt and strode forwards, slowing his pace a little until his eyes adjusted. Once his vision had adapted he continued to head towards the only place he cared to be right now. The docks. If he was lucky his ship would already be under repair, despite the long months he would be forced to endure on land before Unshakable Oath reached its former glory. If he was lucky he'd be put on board another ship, maybe as an officer if his bosses were forgiving enough. If not...

"Captain Farran, sir!" Someone shouted from behind him as soon as he had made it a mere twenty feet from the tent. The young captain turned to find a familiar face running up to him, concern on his face. Though still a little dazed, Farran recognised the sailor as a member of his crew. Had he been waiting for him to emerge from the healers tent?

"Yes?" The captain asked right away, making his annoyance clear. He had other place to be.

The sailor appeared nervous but was able to speak right away. It was clear why he felt so as the words left his lips. "Ryker has ordered you to see him the moment you walk out the healers tent, sir."

As if Farrans mood couldn't sour any further. No doubt he had been called to discuss the state of his ship, which told him that it would be a very one sided, very loud conversation. Farran thanked the man and allowed the sailor to escort him to Rykers tent.

The walk despite being fifteen minutes felt so much shorter to the captain. It was clear that the seasoned dragon hunter wanted to discuss his recent events, including the damage to his ship, possibly his personal visit to Rust Burner Island and of course the sailor that had been killed under his command. Farrans throat went dry. It would be likely that severe punishment would be given, if not worse. The offer of serving onboard another ship was now all but forgotten. But for now all he could do was grin and bear it and take whatever lashing was waiting for him. Upon arriving, Farran knocked on the wooden frame of the tent.

"Enter!" Came the unmistakable gruff voice of Ryker himself.

Farran did not hesitate and stepped inside where the sunlight vanished once more. He noticed the large dragon hunter sat down behind his desk attending to several scrolls of parchment, not bothering to look up until he had finished the final sheet. As soon as he did his already foul mood managed to become fouler.

"Ah, it's you." He grumbled. "Well what are you waiting for an invitation? Take a seat!"

Farran said nothing in response but did as he was told and sat on the only other seat available on the other side of the desk. He then waited to see if his suspicions were correct on why he had been summoned.

"So it's come to my understanding that you and your ship were attacked yesterday, is that right?"

Farran nodded. "It is."

"By a dragon?"

"That is right."

"More specifically a grappler, yes?"

Farran nodded.

Ryker leaned back in his seat and appeared to be thinking, most likely imagining what such a large beast could be sold for if caught. After an excruciating thirty seconds of this, the large man leaned forward again.

"Your ship was heavily damaged." He spoke with a serious lack of compassion. "It will take the better end of a month to get it back up to its former glory. Likely under the command of a new captain."

Farran had expected this on his walk to the tent, but hearing it in person now did nothing to soften the blow. Instead the hunter remained stoic and waited for Ryker to make his case before attempting to defend himself. Doing so now would just add to his punishment.

"Or, rather that would be the case if it wasn't for the giant claw your men handed over the moment you docked. Plenty of vikings who pay well for seafood. Especially from something as rare as that." The mans lips circled upwards into a twisted grin. "No, for now you're still a captain. Least you will be once the Unshakable Oath is sea-worthy once more."

Farran hesitated to speak for a few seconds, yet he could not hide the look of surprise on his face. He was impressed that his men had decided to keep the monstrous limb throughout their return home. Perhaps they wanted to prove their story with whatever evidence they had? Back to the matter on hand however, he soon forced himself to say something even if it was only to fill the dreaded silence. "I understand. Does that mean that I'll be assigned to another ship until then?"

Ryker chuckled. "Oh no. I have something else in mind. I spoke with some of your men before you showed up. Mentioned how you went crazy and took on the grappler all by yourself. And succeeded."

Farran felt a pit growing steadily in his gut. "They... are not wrong." He admitted.

"Yes, just like with the snow wraith all those months ago, I remember well."

Despite the obvious praise in the older mans voice, Farran felt somewhat shameful. As far as he was concerned a loss of control was not a considerable trait, especially in a business as dangerous as dragon hunting. This time the young hunter couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"Which is why I'd like to discuss the main reason I brought you here."

Farran blinked. His judgement on whether or not he remained a part of the dragon hunters wasn't the main reason? "Sir?"

"Yes. I trust you recall your old friend Heather?"

Farran frowned at the mention of the traitorous spy. "Yes, I do." He spoke with a hint of venom that he couldn't conceal. Though why the large hunter had brought her up into the conversation he didn't know. As far as he knew that demon lover should either have been dead or rotting from the inside of a cell.

"Well a few days ago some of our ships were sent to investigate a change in the nadder migration routes. Someone had been diverting them away from our territory. Not so surprisingly the dragon riders were behind it. What was surprising however were the reports of a large metal, spikey dragon fighting alongside them. Ring any bells?"

To say that they did was an understatement. Farran also leapt from his seat upon hearing what Ryker was quite clearly implying but managed to prevent doing so, allowing only a noticeable shock plastered on his face and a much tighter grip on the arm rests of his seat. For a brief second he almost demanded to know why the spy was still alive and why he hadn't been told. Remembering who he was speaking to however, the hunter composed himself and spoke in a more befitting tone.

"That is... surprising to say the least." He spoke in a slow and measured voice. "I was under the impression that she was killed?"

"She was supposed to were it not for her brother."

Farran waited for Ryker to explain what he meant, but the hunter didn't mention another word on the subject. Farran decided to press on the Heather issue further.

"And we are certain that it was her who attacked? Not some new member or rouge dragon?"

"The crew saw the girl plain and simple." Ryker responded impatiently as though already bored dancing round the subject. "Right now I want to know what you plan to do about it."

"Me sir?"

"Yes you. I remember how you took her down back in those prison cells. That's more than most our men can do, the lazy... Think you could do it again?"

Farran found himself leaning forward and carefully asked. "Are you ordering me to recapture her?"

"Capture, kill, as long as she's out of the picture! Look, she's a rouge. We know she doesn't rely on the rest of them dragon riders and prefers to do things alone so she'll be easy enough to take down. And considering your er... history, seems only fitting that you ought to do the deed. If not then I'm sure the Unshakable Oath will fare well with a new captain at the helm. Your choice."

'Not really' Farran thought bitterly at the last few words Ryker had uttered. The large hunter gave the smaller one a moment to think. The young captain seemed to be trying to work something out, though what it was nobody could tell. Eventually he spoke once again. "If I were to accept this task, what would the extent of my resources be?"

"You'll have your old crew, a new ship and whatever equipment I deem fit for you to handle."

The younger hunter nodded. Better than nothing he supposed. "And do we have an idea on her location?"

"Dragons Edge, where else?" Ryker grumbled as though the answer was obvious. In his defence it kind of was. Farran didn't show any embarrassment from the mocking answer however and tapped his fingers on the edge of the wooden stool he sat on. If Heather continued to remain on that accursed island it would make things rather difficult. Escaping from the riders once had been a very hard task, he doubted they would be so easily fooled a second time if they caught him. That would mean he'd need to find a way to lure only Heather away and to a suitable location to stop her before she could do any more damage to the hunters. How to do this would have to be planned out later but for now there was no worry. He had beaten her once, he can and will do it again.

"Very well, I accept." The young hunter replied somewhat eagerly. He'd have to prepare himself and his men but it would be satisfying to put the false spy in her place a second time.

Very little else was discussed outside of Heathers demise and Ryker soon shooed the young lad out of his tent. He had been given a week to fully recover from his injuries and another to come up with a suitable plan, present it to his superior and not only convince him of its chances of succeeding but if it was worth spending valuable resources on. At the least his hands would be busy and productive.

An hour later after leaving the tent, Farran quickly rounded up a select few members of his crew that took up the more important roles onboard Unshakable Oath and informed them on some of the details, only cautioning for them to be ready when he called for them. Better that he informed them now rather than later. He also made especially sure that they knew that these orders came from Ryker himself so any talk of it to anyone outside of their circle was strictly forbidden. Once he had finished he allowed the handful of sailors to get back to what they were doing save for one, the sailor who steered the Unshakable Oath. He had something he had been needing to ask ever since waking up. The name of the sailor who had been eaten during the grappler attack.

He knew he shouldn't have asked it. Such a thing would put pressure and guilt onto him, at least more so than it already did but it didn't feel right to ignore it either.

The helmsman reported with a twinge of sympathy that the man was named 'RockTooth'. At least it was the name the other sailors nicknamed him due to the man having three teeth made of stone chips. There was not much widely known about him other than joining the dragon hunters for a change of pace compared to the boredom of harvesting crops back in his old village and his love of smoked salmon. Farran asked if the sailor had any family or next of kin. The helmsman didn't know. The captain then changed the subject to a more pressing matter.

During his walk to Rykers tent, the hunter who had escorted him had let him know of the events during his time unconscious and at Rust Burner island, including a visit from the Dread and Regret. Destro's ship. The thought of that man or his ship coming anywhere close to his was not a good sign. Concerned, he asked for the crewman to describe everything he could remember about Destro's 'visit'. He was told that there was only few words exchanged among both crews and the dumping of large barrels before departing. Farran pressed for more details about these barrels. Something didn't add up. Why would Destro sail up to his ship only to offload a few barrels into the sea and then suddenly leave? The helmsman said he didn't know, other than them being filled to the brim with something heavy due to how quickly they sank beneath the waves. Unable to get any more information from his man, he sent him off.

This was not a matter that could be ignored. Especially when Destro could try something else. Whatever he had attempted it was clearly not an accident. Planning against Heather could wait, this was something that couldn't wait. His crew might not have the answers he sought, but he knew of someone who might. Sarash.

Sarash was, of all professions in the viking world an inventor. A brilliant one too. Farran had seen him only once when he had made a deal to give Sarash a bag of nadder teeth in exchange for a bag of coins for some sort of experiment. The deal was made and concluded without much fuss and Farran hadn't seen him since. Perhaps it was only fair to pay the man a visit.

The young hunter made his journey across the camp and to Sarash's area of study. A dungeon more precisely built within the mouth of a huge cave that housed many dragon species, many chained and enclosed in tight spaces. Monstrous nightmares, razorwhips, whispering deaths and even a few snatch tails which were ambush dragons the size of a man but with incredibly long tails which they used to snare their prey. All of them attempting to break free from their superior prison cells, and all of them used for whatever new toys Sarash managed to cook up. Poisons, antidotes, new weapon designs, armour, powders, the list was endless.

Farran headed past the dungeon and entered an equally large room which was filled to the brim with all sorts of unfinished projects and shelves filled with things that the young captain could only guess of. Not that it mattered as he soon found the great inventor himself, leaning over a wooden pedestal with his back to Farran, clearly busy working on something.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?" The hunter spoke gently as to not startle the person of interest. As far as he knew Sarash was working on something that could blow them both to Valhalla if one wrong move was made.

Sarash merely tended to his invention for a moment more before turning to face his guest. He was a long bodied, thin looking human being fitted in a fancy green cloak that covered his entire body with golden trimmings that he had no doubt bought from an expensive merchant. His fingers hooked like claws and his eyes were dull indicating that this room was where he spent a lot of his time. Upon seeing Farran, the tall being gave a toothy grin. One that was free of any ill intent thankfully.

"Ah, Farran..." He spoke in a raspy voice. "It's been a while since we last spoke..."

"Indeed." Farran nodded. "I trust those teeth I gave you served their purpose?"

"But of course... A perfect ingredient for treating and eradicating nadder venom... But I assume that's not what you're here to ask, is it...?"

"I'm afraid not. I've come to ask if you gave Destro any barrels recently? Heavy barrels that hold a purpose for being thrown over the side of a ship?"