Role Play Log of . . .

Capture of a Gondorian Ship!

This is a log recorded by Dubhglas of his character and crew raiding and taking a Gondorian ship on the river Anduin at night durring a time of peace between the two countries. The raid was completely unexpected so far north and the Gondos taken by surprise. It should be noted, however, that the Gondorians in this log are not played by Gondorians for lack of players, but have been played by various enthusiastic volenteers from all over the MUSH including Bree. If you played one of these temps and read this log, email me and let me know who you played and who you normally are on Elendor so that I might make a footnote. This log was recorded Monday evening, June 16th, 1997. Thank you and enjoy!

Big thanks to the following players:

Imbrium of Bree played Marcandis, Nimir_Osprey of Dale Lands played Elendruth, Bifur and Orin of Ered-Luin played Potvan and Tovash, Anthalin of Dale Lands played Andelar and the following Haradrim played Fuxan played Cordova, Erland played Trenchard, Okhrana played Quequeg and Ardel played Namor.

Dubhglas mounts the horse that he is going to be riding towards the Deadly Garden. Around him, Corsairs prepare to ride...Outriders stand ready to guide them.

Sinjian swings himself into the sadle uneasily, as he grumbles, "Animals are for food, not for riding." He sits uncomfortably, squirming a bit as his mouunt paces under the clumsy and unfamiliar burden.

Dubhglas agrees with a grunt. "We're giving them to the Narakshi after we get where we're going," he says. "That will be the last time we see these worthless beasts."

Sinjian continues his grouching, "At least we won't have to ride in the full heat of the sun. The cool of night is a welcome relief." He jerks the nag's head back with the reins, bringing the poor animal under his unsteady control. The horse folows the natural course of the land folloing the river downstream.

Dubhglas confers momentarily with an Outrider who rides up. "Looks like we're ready," he says. "Let's go."

The Outriders lead the party northwards.

You leave the Narakshi Camp, the darting children, animals and colorful tents for the open land.

Crossing of Poros, N. Bank

South Ithilien

Forest Point Bar

You stand on a point bar at the edge of the great river, the gravel and sand smoothed out over time and slanting down towards the meandering Anduin. Mussell shells and a few stray fish skeletons litter the ground. The area is quite secluded and quiet, sheltered by the huge mass of ancient trees off to the east.

Obvious exits:

River Anduin and NorthEast

Sinjian has arrived.

The stealthy band arrives after many hours of trecking through the desert, and then the Garden. You set up and wait for a ship to arrive. Many hours pass....

Sinjian grins, "Aye, Cap'm, this is more to my liking. I am spoiling for a good fight myself, and that's a fine a craft as I've seen in a while. How's the plan then?"

The band of Corsairs and a few Narakshi slip into the undergrowth, waiting for nightfall...

Dubhglas waves the man closer, so as not to raise his voice. "Come midnight or so," he says, "We slip aboard, kill the nightwatch, and take possession of the hatches that lead below. That should trap the fools below decks...and the ship will be ours."

Sinjian whispers in the fading light. "Take 'er crew and all then, eh? Good, if the wind fails us, the whips will not." He grins in satistaction as he looks out over the water at the ship.

One of the Narakshi, a wily desert rat with a broken arrow in his turban, slips up to the Captain. "(Haradaic) You see that our help is well worth the price you pay, eh, Dubhglas-man?"

Dubhglas shoots the Outrider a glance. "So far, so good..." he murmurs, but his tone indicates his agreement.

The Antildar(#19984QetMp)

A long and mighty ship, two masted and many oared. Raised decks rise at prow and stern eight sails hang from her twin masts. The lofty winged Crown of Gondor stands on a field of black on the largest sail. This ship is finely crafted, her wood surfaces stained light brown. She is one of the proud Capital ships of Gondor. A few figures can be seen moving about on the main deck. This is a warship of Gondor...proud and true.

Carrying:

Elenruth

Potvan

Tovar

Marcandis

Cordova

Sinjian nods, "Aye Cap'm, that she is, a fine big vessel, perhaps these desert bandits wil be useful after all." He sits back in the vegitation to await the appointed hour, brimming with satisfaction at the prosppects of the night raid.

Dubhglas leans back, himself, pulling his hood over his eye and face, and dozing lightly to be well rested, come the night.

Middle-earth time is: Twilight on Mersday, Day 7 of October, 3011

Real time is: 15:30:08 MST on Mon Jun 16 1997

From the depths of the vegetation, many eyes watch the ship settle ashore. Many blades are fingered in anticipation...

Trenchard is sitting relaxed in the middle of the room, a wry and evil grin playing on his face.

Sinjian scratches his stubbly beard as he watches the ship tie off to the bank. He reaches for the hilt of his cutlass anxiously, and looks toward Dubhglas, waiting for the signal.

Trenchard's grin and mustache and goatee give him an all together evil looking appearance.

Dubhglas watches the ship through a squinted eye. "Looks like things are starting to settle down," he says. "We'll attack as soon as it gets quiet..."

Trenchard says in a gravelly, crude sounding brogue, "Laddie, they'll be enough meat to go 'round."

Namor gets up uneasily from his seated position near the egde of the river suddnely becomeing enrages at what Dubhglas just remark, "Quiet? We sit out here waiting for the quiest? what are we doing here?" he barks out angrily walking hastily toward Dubhglas."

Dubhglas glances at you.

Dubhglas

STATUS: IC (0s idle)

The man is grim and bearded, his face cast under the hood of a sea green cloak. When he moves one can catch a glance of his face it proves that he has only one eye, the other socket covered by a black leather strap. He is not so young as he once was, and it is clear that he has seen and done much that ages one prematurely. Several scars are visible, and there is a hint in his movements that his clothes conceal some truly horrible ones. In spite of that, he is still stout and strong and obviously walks without fear of any thing, living, dead, or undead. Black boots adorn his feet the pants are tucked into the tops. When he walks, his stride is quiet but confident when he stands, few dare come too close. Cotton tunic and dark pants meet under an indigo sash, through which is slung his constant companion...a wicked curved blade of black Mordor steel.

Species: Human

Sex: Male

Health: Good

Weapons: Nothing

Armor: Chain Mail Armor -

Other Visible Equipment: Scimitar -

Dubhglas strikes the Corsair to the ground with an open hand. "Silence!" he hisses. "Surprise and stealth will win the day."

Sinjian turns with an angry hiss. "Pipe down! You will give away our position." He points toward the ship and shakes his head.

Andelar squints, glaring towards the ship, and slips his hand towards the pommel of his weapon.

Namor looks up from the ground angry and anxious but speaks quieter with yet the same intensity drawing his own face near to that of Dubhglas's, "We sit around here most of the day and yet you give me no answers for all my rantings!" His breath is almost unbearable as Dubhglas stares at stained rotting teeth.

Andelar slides Galdinil out of a dark sheath. Its blade rings a moment after it's wielded.

Dubhglas hefts Namor by the scruff of his neck. "Now, since you're so eager," he says, "You can take point. Move quickly lads...but quietly." His own blade is ready as he motions the crew forward.

At the sign from the capitain, Sinjian slides his cutlass from its sheath with the cold hiss of metal on ice. The shimmering blade is revealed in reflected light. He begins to creep forward, following Namor's lead.

Trenchard grins evilly at Namor.

Namor smiles greedily, "Yes, I will!" he turns quickly and hastens stealthfully to the point. He draws out his blade as he walks holding out in front of his face.

Andelar edges forward, his blade bobbing lightly with each step. Dark eyes dart from face to face briefly before returning to Namor.

Dubhglas sighs and shrugs. He waves his arm forwards, and the crew slips towards the ship from beneath the deep weeds...

Trenchard's evil grin gets broader and he slides his cutlass out of his scabbard holding the point down in front of him.

Cordova disembarks from the The Antildar.

Cordova has arrived.

Namor stops at the egde of the bank, looks around wirely, then proceeds to board the ship quickly.

Namor has left.

Namor climbs aboard the The Antildar.

Trenchard stops at the edge of the bank, grinning evilly, and thinking about meat.

Dubhglas curses silently as he sees a man disembark on some errand. He waves Trenchard at the Gondorian. "Kill him quietly," he says.

Elenruth yawns and begins to trot after Cordova, "Fool...."

Dubhglas slips over the rail like a spectre...

Marcandis takes a step away from the railing, going to follow after the Captain...

Tovar lies against a wine cask at the aft of the ship, apparently sleeping Elenruth looks around quickly, hearing something....

Elenruth says, "Eh?"

Sinjian boards the warship.

Marcandis stops as the Captain stops, "What is it good Cap...?" he starts to ask, turning to look where he heard the faintest of noises.

Tovar lets out a snort and shifts slightly, lying against the wine cask. But he does not seem to wake, rather, he seems rather comfortable, oddly enough.

Over the rail, dripping with the silty water of the Anduin, comes a party of vicious looking madmen...curved blades and soaked beards glint in the torchlight. Surely Haradrim could not be so far north??

Namor grips the pannels on the side of the boat looking down at the unsuspecting Gondorians lying about. He grins sinisterly clenching the piece of wood between his teeth and he walks ever so slowly toward the closest enemy holding his blade turned downward as if to impale him on the ground.

Dubhglas waves to Sinjian. "Take half the men, and secure the fore hatch. I'll get the stern, and the quarterdeck.

Elenruth draws his longsword with blinding speed, "Awake! Awake! The Corsairs are upon us! Awake!"

Namor steps lightly, but suddenly, a board beneathe him creaks as he approaches Tovar. He jumps back.

Marcandis 's jaw drops... he doesn't have time to cry out. He stumbles backwards in shock, not quite believing what he is seeing. his hand flies to his longsword and starts to draw it...

Namor looks up in alarm at the calling of Elenruth and draws his scimitar out in full in front of him making a lunge to kill the nearest gondorian still lying upon the ground.

Dubhglas, blade in hand, advances quickly towards the quarterdeck. About a dozen men are at his back, some of them the fierce tribal warriors of the Haradwaith...most the grim heros of Umbar.

Elenruth says, "Potvan! Tovar! Get up your lazy selves to your blades!"

Trenchard stalks up quietly behind Cordova, grinning and thinking about how good he will taste...

Sinjian shouts, "Aye Cap'm, foredeck secured." He motions to the surly gang of cutthroats, "Aafter me lads, we will meet the captain amidships." He lumbers forward, still keeping his postore low with a wide stance as he ducks under the rigging making his way twrdad the prow.

Namor is lunging at Tovar with his blade outstreched toward the seemingly sleeping figure upon the ground.

Marcandis draws his longsword in one quick fluid motion. He holds it before him with slightly tembling hands, backing away from the Corsairs.

Sailors, cutlasses and sabers in hand, come charging out of the door to the lower decks...

Andelar halts his progression, freezing momentarily. His eyes dart greedily towards the rail of the ship, as if he is trying to decide whether he can make it undetected or not, then he looks once again to where he knows Trenchard is wait. Holding his action, he stills himself and watches the solitary figure some distance from him.

Tovar stirs from his sleep to find Namor standing over him. With a quick start, he backs up into the barrel, stumbling slightly and frantically grabbing for the sword at his side. Namor 's sword just misses the figure as his sword drives deep into the hull of the deck. He curses lightly to himself and draws his blade out quickly from the wood.

Dubhglas's men quickly surround the stern hatch, to prevent the majority of the crew, sleeping below, from joining the battle. Dubhglas, grinning, calls out to the now-alerted nightwatch: "Surrender to us...and only the noblemen will be killed!"

Cordova frowns, squinting further into the darkness of the light woods. He slowly brings his pipe down from his pale lips. His ears perk at the furtive movements behind him, and stealthfully he drops his pipe to the moist ground and pulls his scimitar from its leather sheath. He turns to face the ship now, spotting Trenchard, rather surprised.

Potvan fumbles with his short sword, and curses under his breath as the raiders board the ship. When seeing them led by the large man he curses, "what in the name of Aule?? Tovar, kill as many as you can, we are outnumbered!"

Marcandis's eyes go wide as he hears Dubhglas' words, a death sentence for him. Finally he is spurred into action. He lunges towards the apparent leader (Dubhglas) in a mad charge.

Trenchard shows his pointy teeth to Cordova and grins, "Ye'll taste goo' lad...", he brings his cutlass up surprisingly quick.

Andelar tenses, glancing franticly at the ship, and prepares to move quickly. Tovar finally frees his blade from it's scabbard with a quickly muttered curse. Chancing a quick glance to Potvan he yells out, "Nowhere to run! Stay close!" Looking back at Namor, he offers a feeble stab of his sword, more to buy him some much needed time than anything else.

Finding the forehatch firmly shut, Sinjian assign two very heavy pirates to stand on the hatchway cover. He turns to face center ship now, his blade in hand prepared to defend the foredeck at all cost.

Dubhglas laughs as he sees his first catch of the day. "Gondorian!" he laughs, deflecting the lunging attack with his black-steel scimitar. "I'm glad to see you're as eager for you to be dead as I am!" He ripostes at his foe's neck, laughing all the while.

Elenruth charges at the nearest pirate, brandishing his sword with expert skill....

Cordova steps back, shooting his eyes from side to side, now aware of the situation he raises his scimitar before him as well before shouting to the ship with warnings, "Raiders! To your feet!!"

Potvan is immediately rushed at by a couple of the raiders. His blade stabs one in the stomach, cutting through with a sicking squish and blood poors onto the deck. He yanks his blade out just in time to parry the attack of the next raider, the metal of the blades clanging sharply in the night.

Trenchard slashes viciously at Cordova's head, "Quiet Gondo!

Andelar curses an oath beneath his breath and drops back quickly towards the boarding plank. He curls himself down into a crouch, his wicked blade resting in front of him, and waits in ambush for anyone who charges down the ramp.

Cordova jumps back from the careless attack made by the man, though he yelps with fright. Quickly he slashes back at the man.

Marcandis stumbles back as the blade cuts a neat gash into his neck. He clamps one hand on the wound, soaking his hand with blood. Then gathers his wits about him, grips his sword tightly, and makes a more careful attack. He fakes a swordstrike to Dubhglas' swordarm, then goes in low, slashing at the legs.

Elenruth strikes down two of the raiders, before moving to meet his crew that came from below deck, "Behind me, lads! We've a ship to save!"

Potvan yells out in pain as the curved scimitar of his opponent glances his leg, blood soaking the black cloth of his pant leg. He grimaces as a twisted expression crosses his visage, and he grunts and stabs back at the raider, only to have his attack parried. More sharp sounds of clashing metal echo out into the night.

Trenchard jumps back easily, and this time executes a vicious slash-thrust combination.

Elenruth and the dozen crewmen behind him rush at Dubh's group, attacking viciously with desire to protect their ship....

Andelar waits a long moment before the eagerness to join the main fray overcomes him. He sheaths his sword, rolls into the water with a quiet *splunk* and wades over to a low dipping mooring line. Hooking at first his hands, and then his legs, he scurries upside-down, hand-over-hand, towards the railing of the deck.

Tovar backs up towards the quarterdeck as the numbers of the raiders start to overwhelm the area around the aft mast. Slashing wildly with his sword, he seems to be hitting more metal than flesh. Nonetheless, his efforts at least seem to clear a small path for him to move towards the captain and bulk of the crew

Cordova curses as the cutlass opens his right shoulder, letting the blood flow freely down his pale arm. He winces sharply, but raises his scimitar and slashes from the side, growling with anger.

Dubhglas reverses his blade, moving inside of the longsword's superior reach to limit its effectiveness. He tosses a left jab right at the gash on his foe's neck, where exposed nerves lie open...

Potvan yells out in triumph as he penetrates his opponent's defeneses, and his short blade plunges into the stomach of the raider. He pulls it out quickly, and scans the deck for Tovar, spotting him he dashes over to aid his commrade, fighting off quick blows from the rushing attackers he makes his way over to Tovar. He yells out, "Tovar, regroup the sailors, we can only stand a chance as a whole!"

Andelar turns himself around, drop-hands, and catches his feet on the rail. In a moment he is aboard the ship.

Andelar boards the warship.

Andelar slips over the railing nearest the shore, dripping a bit, and crouches into a low position to survey the scene.

Trenchard growls as the scimitar bounces off his ribs, he executes another slash-thrust combination...this time aiming always for the head and neck.

Tovar lets out a loud grunt as his blade bashes against the cold steel of the man just to his right. Staggering his feet to regain some balance, he risks a glance at Potvan, "I'm tryin! There's... there's too many of them!"

Marcandis clearly is outmatched. He yelps out a cry and winces in pain. He steps back, barely able to hold the Corsair off...

Elenruth charges at Dubhglas, slicing at his exposed side while he attacks Marcandis...

A paniced band of crewmen from the ship rush toward Sinjian and his men in a diorganised attack. The pirates hold firmly to thier stations, beating the crewmen back with the clashing of steel. He calls out, "Spread out athwart the ship ya dogs, and push into the thick of it."

Andelar launches himself to his feet from his crouched position, a wicked blade gleaming as he runs, and lets out with a fierce cry and he charges into the fray.

Potvan quickly joins Tovar in the desparate fight, only to be attacked by another pair of corsairs. He yells out in pain as he recieves another light gash to this thigh, and luckily dodges out of the way of a stab to his chest, the corsair scimitar glancing off his light leather armor. He grunts and swings at one of the raiders, only to receive to more blows aimed at him.

Dubhglas is forced to turn aside from the dying young Gondo to defend himself against the new attacker. He responds to the strike by moving inside and to the left, and bringing his own blade down to parry, not against his enemy's weapon, but against his exposed swordarm.

Quequeg arrives from the northeast.

Cordova leans back while stepping back as well, but without warning he ducks down and jabs forcefully for the stomach of the man.

Tovar charges in a line that seems straight at Potvan, waving his sword and yelling, "ARRRGH!" at the top of his lungs.

Bringing his sword down in a fierce slash, he draws blood on the weapon arm of a pirate moving in on Potvan's back, Marcandis renews his attack as Elenruth comes to his aid. Moving swiftly, he brings the sword down to slice into Dubhglas' leg when the corsair's attention is diverted.

Quequeg jumps out of the trees up the river some distance the white boned harpoon held lightly in his right hand.

One of the Corsairs of Dubhglas' group sees the onrush of the young noble at his Captain's back, and leaps to tackle the man! Elenruth winces as the blade glances off his bracers. He draws back a few steps and brings his sword to bear, "Damn you! Cursed traitors!"

Potvan ducks as Tovar's blade catches the arm of the corsair behind him. He smiles and spins on his heal, to finish off the job by driving his blade into the stomach of the raider. Blade now drenched in blood, Potvan greets a third corsair with a parrying swing, the two blades clashing loudly.

Trenchard parries deftly with his cutlass, and executes a different combination...one that is thrice as quick...and thrice as deadly.

Andelar leaps over a crumpled body, and runs full-on to where Dubhglas fights. He staggers back as a blade scythes over his head, then lunges forward towards Elenruth.

Tovar lets out a piercing cry as a scimitar hacks into his exposed left calf, starting to stain his tunic with red. His leg gives way and he slumps to the deck for a moment, desperately trying to marshal the strength to stand and continue the fight.

Dubhglas laughs at the frustrated man. He is clearly caught up in the joy of the fight. "Captain Dubhglas ben-Garad ben-Hassad al-Sayf Fairhonanth, at your service," he says during the momentary lull. "Care to duel for possession of this vessel?"

Sinjian slashes his way through the remaining rabble of routed crewmen and strides onto the main deck, looking over the battle. He forces hiw way through the melee, approaching the embattled capitain Dubhglas, still followed by a few motly brigands not otherwise engaged in the buthery.

Marcandis sees a blur out of the corner of the eye. The next thing he knows he hits the deck, landing awkwardly on his swordarm. He grits his teeth and with adrenaline rushing, pushes the corsair off him. He starts to rise to his feet only to be taken down by yet another corsair.

Elenruth says, "Bah! I will duel over my ship's fate! I will kill you, fowl follower of Castamir!"

The swirling tide of battle seems to favor the Corsairs. The nightwatch is losing ground quickly, and the hatches are guarded and secured by bands of evil-looking men.

The particular Corsair atop Mercandis smiles evilly, pulling a glinting dagger and descending it at his foe's chest. The two corsair pin the struggling Marcandis to the ground. A third comes over with his dagger drawn, reaching down to slash his neck and finish the job Dubhglas started.

Dubhglas shrugs, disappointed. "If you have no use for the old courtesies, so be it. On your guard, Gondo!" He moves forward, slashing in a strong pattern designed to drive down his foe's guard.

Elenruth says, "Men! The fate of this ship is in our hands! We must fight for our lives and for the honor of Gondor!"

Hearing the threat, Sinjian turns his course to flank Elenruth, cutting off his retreat through the rabble and slashing his cutlass in a shimmering arc toward the backs of the Gondorian's knees.

Elenruth slashes his blade equally as strong at Dubhglas, their swords colliding with a ringing CLANG!

After a momentary lull, Tovar manages, with much exertion and a grimaced face, to raise himself up on his one good leg. And just in time. As he gets back to his feet, the corsairs around him and Potvan renew their assault. Weakened by the wound and unable to attack with any strength, Tovar's blade moves only to parry the assaults around him. It is plainly evident that his strength is waning.

Andelar hesitates his attack a moment too long to hear his captain speak, and reels around as a man catches his waist in a strong tackle. The two go skittering to the ground, tangled in a mass of already fallen men.

As Sinjian attacks, a fallen sailor collides with him, fouling his attack and knocking him off balance....

Cordova curses in Adunaic as the Haradrim opens up his mail with his blade twice but barely reaches his skin. He leaps back from the man and sneers, "Die raider, die!" And this time, with more predictability he engages again, following up with a combination with his scimitar, crying a war cry from the lands of Gondor.

Potvan fights in a desparate attempt to fight off the corsairs surrounding them, but for every attack he parries two more slice into his leather armor and draw blood. Now a withered form of garment soaked blood and mussed hair he moves with less vigor, and barely manages to parry the attacks coming at him. The deck of the mighty ship seems washed with blood. The vessel rocks uneasily under the shifting weight straining at its mooring lines in the dark night.

Dubhglas twists his blade over and down, locking it against his foe's own sword. He grins at his foe at this point blank range, and spits in his face...a distraction to hide his left hand, which stabs at his enemy's eyes.

Quequeg chuckles slightly to himself and grins, slowly making his way down the creek bed, his eyes glinting in the light.

Marcandis struggly feebly, already weakened by the loss of blood. He can do nothing but watch in horror as cold steel touches his neck. He shuts his eyes and mouths a silent prayer as his throat is slit, his blood spilling out onto the deck, pooling around his head.

Andelar lies flat on his back, the wind knocked from him, and wheezes for air as the sailor crushes a knee into his chest. A loose cutlass is in the sailor's hands in a moment, and Andelar is struggling with his left hand to push the blade away from his throat.

Elenruth aaghs as his left eye is gouged and blood starts to spurt out, he stumbles backwards a few steps, cursing....

Turning to look at Potvan for a moment, Tovar speaks in a hurried, yet unsteady voice, "Get... get to the cap--"

Sinjian rolls forward, losing his footing on the slippery deck. As he pushes up with his free ar, he swings wildly with his sword arm, clearing a space to stand in the crowd.

Trenchard jumps back and to the right, trying his damndest to avoid the scimitar.

Dubhglas closes in right behind his cursing foe, using the momentary drop of his enemy's guard as an opportunity to make a sweeping slash designed to strike off his head.

Elenruth lowers his sword a bit, seemingly weakened, he looks at Dubhglas, "You think you've won, don't you?"

As the blade begins to carve a thin line of blood, just breaking the skin, Andelar fumbles franticly. At first his right hand pushes into the sailor's face, then slide down to the knee upon his chest, and the ankle. It meets a boot knife, and he slides it out in one smooth motion and into the ribs, twisting.

Tovar's last words are cut off as a pirate scimitar plants firmly in his chest. Tovar slumps against the blade, the life oozing out of him. The corsair leaves the scimitar deeply imbedded in Tovar's chest, quickly snatching up a new weapon and moving on to another foe. Tovar is left to prop himself up against the railing for as long as his waning strength will hold him.

Elenruth goes to one knee, stabbing up with the tip of his sword at his enemies exposed stomach....

Trenchard snarls as the scimitar hits him on the arm...despite his efforts to avoid it. He then slashes viciously at Cordova's head, then snaps down quickly and thrusts at his neck.

Andelar pushes the dying sailor off to the side, and rolls, coughing hard to catch his breath. Blood has stained his neck and welled up along his armour.

Sinjian lurches forward from his uneasy stance, he lowers the point of his cutlass toward the small of Elenruth's back and lets the mass of men behind, push him forward as he thrusts.

Dubhglas grunts, twisting his torso away from the surprise attack. His mail, black steel from the very fires of Mordor, saves him...the longsword skids off of it without penetrating. His own blow descends with thunderous force toward's the enemy Captain's neck...

Tovar's sword drops to the deck, clanking against the metal of a dented helm beside him. Losing all strength and control of his muscles, Tovar slumps to the deck, only serving to drive the scimitar deeper into his already gaping wound. With a load moan, he tries to no avail to roll over. Tovar twitches one last time with exertion and then falls motionless, his own blood mingling with those of the fallen on the now stained deck.

Potvan cries out as he sees Tovar fall, and then as his attention is distracted a blade plunges through his armor and into his stomach. He goes suddenly silent, looks into the face of his assailant, a corsair, and then slumps to the ground, sliding off the blade of the raider.

Elenruth lurches forward, directly into Dubh's knees as Sin's sword strikes his back, not penetrating his armor....

Andelar staggers to his feet, one hand retrieving his sword as the other presses on his neck wound. He slumps against a nearby mast to rest for a moment.

Marcandis looks oddly peaceful as he lies on the deck, pale and lifeless, white tunic and purple cape now stained a ghastly red.

Dubhglas drops his weight forward, surprised by the man's tenacity, but well trained in the arts of wrestling and boxing as well. He drops his arm, too, the butt of the scimitar falling in a strike at Elenruth's head.

Sinjian takes advantage of his prone enemy, to gain a more secure footing. He stands at his full hight behind Elenruth, holding the Corsair capitain's eyes in his gaze as he smirks, "Looks like this one is the last holdout. Finish him quick, will ya?"

Potvan looks up with one fleeting glimsp of life, only to see the raiders victorious. He grimaces, coughs up some blood onto the already blood soaked deck, and the last spark of life flickers and goes out.

Cordova parrys the attack, though the cutlass still hits him, skimming his chin. He yelps in pain and grabs his chin and without another thought ot hesitation, he sprints for the ship, as if leading the man aboard it...

Elenruth is hit on the head, putting a dent in his helmet, but not causing much damage to him. He grunts loudly as he scrambles to his feet, shoving Dubh off to the side and charging away towards the back of the ship, "To me, men!" He yells this, even though he knows it is fruitless....

Quequeg leaps up to a rock and hefting his spear throws it flashing through the air at the Gondorian man.

Dubhglas looks around at the blood soaked deck, wondering who will answer the enemy Captain's call. Shrugging, he follows his foe at a leisurely walk, knowing that with his metal armor, the enemy Captain has no escape in the dark waters...

The tattered and broken remains of the crew try in vain to mount a coherent defense around their captain. But their numbers are too few and their strength too little.

Andelar leans heavily against the mast, his neck coloured a deep red, as his eyelids begin to grow heavier.

Cordova makes his way halfway up the plank before the sharp pain of the spear lands itself into his right ankle and throwing him to the wooden plank, then to the shallow water below. His scimitar flies from his hand and land in the shrubs nearby.

Trenchard grins at Quegueg, "Good shot."

Seeing the victory well in hand, Sinjian steps to the windward rail and neatly hacks through the mooring line, allowing the ship to drift lazily back into the river. He kicks a lifeless corpse, then bends to lift and heave the body over the side, clearing his path toward the stern of the vessel, where the tiller awaits a firm hand.

Quequeg grins widely and jumps down and rushes forward to retrieve his harpoon.

From inside The Antildar, The Corsairs call to their companions ashore: "Quickly! Board ship!"

Cordova brings himself to his one good leg now, wincing and soaked with the water of the Anduin.

Trenchard runs up to the ship, climbs the plank quickly and boards the ship, he shouts at Cordova, "I'll get you yet, pretty boy!"

Cordova frowns, hearing the words of the corsairs aboard the vessel. He notes the advancing Queqeug and quickly pulls a knife from his belt, but stumbles again from the harpoon in his ankle, yelping in pain.

Quequeg stops near the base of the plank and tilts his head slightly looking wryly at the soaked Gondorian. "Ye know, I do want me harpoon back. I'd recomend ye give it to me." he seems ready to break out laughing.

Dubhglas slaps down a Gondorian sailor with one stroke of his blade...and then another, as the men try to stand between him and his foe. "Come to me, Cappy?" he asks, amused.

With a caloused grip, Sinjian turns the tiller to brink the sip head into the wind. The few small sails still unfurled hang flapping in the breeze, and for a few lingering moments the vessel holds steady in the water, allowing time for the pirates ashore to board.

Cordova frowns before barking loudly, "Shut yer mouth you filthy southron! I will slit yer throat before you get this harpoon back, desert rat!" he promises. He grits his teeth in the pain.

Elenruth says, "Bah! You have killed my men...my friends...I have no reason to live with this shame! I give myself to the waters of the Anduin! Farewell, you motherless curs!"

Quequeg glances up at Trenchard "Hey man, toss down yer blade. This boy still wants to play."

Trenchard throws his cutlass down to Quequeg, "Leave old Trenchard some meat!"

Elenruth leaps off the side on the ship, on the side of the ship facing Gondor..... SPLOSH!

Quequeg grins evily as he lifts up the wicked curved blade "Aye, now it is time for the butchery to start." and he crouches low swinging the blade in a few practice swings before him.

Now underwater, Elenruth sheaths his sword and squirms out of his mail.....

Cordova grimmaces at the man's words, "I suggest you board yer ship, fool. If they leave you, you are sure to die by my hands......" He awaits....

Dubhglas looks over the railing into the black water. "Well, one of us should have got him," he says to the River. Sighing contentedly, he turns back to survey his new ship...

Quequeg glances up at the ship and calls to Trenchard, "Go, I will catch up." and turning back to Cordova, "Not without my harpoon." and he leaps to the injured side his thickly muscled arms bunching as he brings the scimitar down with crashing force towards the other man.

Trenchard boards the ship.

As the battle is won, and the ship taken, the colors of Pelargir and pulled from the rigging and quuickly replaced with the scarlet banner of Umbar. Other crewmen hurry to hoist sail, taking advantage of the slack wind to lighten their work. First mainsails, then topsails are loosend from their tight furls and secured into position by a spiderweb of lines. From the helm, Sinjian calls, "Ready to make wind on yar order Cap'm. He pulls firmly on the tiller, still holding the ship motionless into the wind.

Cordova attempts to dodge the man, rather surprised by his sudden attack, but the water catches his feet and sends him, again, to the shallow water with a splash. However, the blade swung for him misses him with a great distance...

Quequeg rolls through the attack and with his free hand at the last minute grabbing hold of the handle of the spear and yanking it with him as he goes tumbling into the water.

You say, "Gather the steel from the Gondos! All the captured blades and armor go to the Narakshi." He turns to Sinjian. "You, lad! I hereby promote you to sailing master!" He laughs. "Somebody tell the crew below that if they'll row with their backs in it, we'll put them ashore ere we get to Umbar. Otherwise...they can join us at the next Spring Festival."

Sinjian allows the ship to take its head, and the sails fill with wind as the ship turns to make it way silently down the river. The singing of the crew as the go about their routine is suddenly disrrupted by a shout. "Man overboard! The savage is left behind." A sailor points to where Quequeg splashes behind the ship.

Dubhglas stops by the ravaged body of the first young Gondo who charged him. He smiles, picking up the blade and ripping the sheath from its owner's belt. "Leuthyn will love this," he mutters.

Dubhglas stalks to the side, watching Quequeg swim... "Any bets on if he makes it?" he calls to the nearest crewmates. "I've got a silver that says he does!"

Cordova cries loudly as the man rips the spear from his ankle, tearing the flesh around it and coloring the water red with his blood. He pulls himself to his feet, now without the hindrance of the harpoon but still with the pain. Clenching his knife tight, he leaps at the man with both arms forward in hopes of slamming him into the side of the massive vessel.

Andelar looks wearily from where he rests against the mast, and fumbles away from the wound on his neck long enough to reach into his tunic. A silver flips through the air to cling at Dubhglas feet. "I'll meet that," he says weakly.

Dubhglas looks at the man who puts for the coin. "Ouch, lad," he says. "Better staunch that wound. And somebody," he says, turning to the crew, "find the stores of wine on this ship!"

Sinjian laughs, "That bet I will take, Cap'm." He eases the tiller abit and yells out, "Slack off on that mainsheet a bit, we'll give this tub her full speed."

Quequeg struggles for a moment in the water but when he sees the man coming for him he takes a deep breath and dives under the now murky water the disturbance from his kicking creates a trail back towards the boat.

Sliding down the mast into a sitting position, Andelar manages a wicked grin, "A bit of wine is all's I need."

Dubhglas, laughing at Sinjian, slaps Andelar's arm. "Then it is you I put in charge of finding the cache!" he says. "Take some of the boys and go below...bring up a barrel, or two."

Cordova quickly takes note of the situation and a grin squirms to his pained face as he peers at the trail of water and feels the movement beneath the surface. He readies his knife and leaps at where he predicts the corsair to be, thrusting his blade into the water, putting the wieght of his mail into the attack.

Sinjian yells forward from the helm, "And bring one up for yarselves too." He laughs and turns back to see Queqeug closing the gap with the ship.

Andelar winces a bit, and pushes himself to his feet, rubbing at his neck, "Aye, cap'n. You there, quit grinin' and lend me a hand, man." He proceeds to stagger off with two men in tow towrads the stairs of the hold, disappearing into the darkness with an echo of eager footsteps.

The point of the blade meets resistance and then it is gone but a dark streak of blood stains the waters.

You see Quequeg suddenly on the side of the ship hanging from a robe. The scimitar held in one hand and the harpoon in a sling over his shoulder. He grins toothily but you can see a knife wound in his right shoulder. "Farewell man, maybe next time I will have the time to dispose of ye."

Cordova yells angrily as the man escapes, but finds it a better idea to leave the massacre, and limps hurridly off into the sparse forest.

Quequeg boards the warship.

A bit of a thrashing followed by the sounds of something heavy rolling on planks below deck, and a hearty cheer from the three men sound beneath your feet. A growing clamour sounds up the stairs before they emerge lugging two barrels of wine.

Quequeg scrambles over the side of the ship and drops Trenchards blade "Here ye go."

Dubhglas grins cheerfully as Quequeg boards. "You have no idea how much it means to me that you made it," he tells the man.

Sinjian utters a curse with a laugh, and toses a silver coin to Dubhglas. "I guess ya know him better'n I know this ship Cap'm." The wind carries the ship into the deeper waters of the main channel.

Quequeg leans over a little slipping his harpoon out of its sheath and leaning on it "Well ye could have warned me. As it is there is some poor sap on shore who won't soon forget this." he grins now revealing his large white teeth.

The wide smile on Andelar's face from the wine fades as he sees Quequeg standing on the deck. An oath muttered under his breath seams strong enough to wilt plants.

Fuxan leans against the side of the ship, breathing heavily and standing near the captain of the corsairs. His shoulder drips with blood, staining the sleeve of his cream tunic. He speaks hoarsely between breaths towards Dubhglas, "Ay, that was a rough battle, Dubhglas......" He pauses to laugh to himself, "Almost stupid of us!"

Dubhglas bahs, and presses a beautiful Gondorian shortsword into Fuxan's hands. "But think of all the steel you've won for your men... and Leuthyn," he says, grinning. "To Umbar!"

Trenchard grins evilly, "What? No meat for old Trenchard?"

You push your ship into the river to the northwest.

The Helm aptly maneuvers the vessel.

Fuxan laughs to Dubhglas and takes the blade gratefully....

River Anduin:

Northeast of Pelargir

Quequeg chuckles and slumps against the side of the boat to catch his breath before going to work "Nah, the animal was slow, and this ship was moving a bit fast for me to fully catch up.

Leaning on the keg wearily, Andelar lifts his blade, "To Umbar!"

Dubhglas grins and repeats, "To Umbar. And open that barrel, son."

Andelar grins widely, "Me pleasure." A moment later wine is spurting out of a rupture in the keg's top, and into waiting mugs.

Your ship heads down the Aduin.

End of Log.

Leaning on the keg wearily, Andelar lifts his blade, "To Umbar!"

Dubhglas grins and repeats, "To Umbar. And open that barrel, son."

Andelar grins widely, "Me pleasure." A moment later wine is spurting out of a rupture in the keg's top, and into waiting mugs.

Your ship heads down the Aduin.

End of Log.