Looking back to that terrifyingly long day, Oros could never recall exactly what happened. It was a blur of lightning, blistered hands, and mountainous waves. All that could be recounted was the bravery of his crew and how they never once faltered.

Seven more day the storm had lasted, gradually weakening until at last it ended as suddenly as it had begun. The driving wind stopped and the rain lessened to a light misting. Fendwall tiredly lashed the wheel in place and leaned against it, his bulky shoulders sagging. Oros paced around the White Raider, tireless as ever, while his crew watched from where they sat.

When the wind ceased they had dropped where they stood, too exhausted to care if they followed orders or not. Qrow hung limply on the ratlines, eyes half closed. Oros let them rest, they deserved it, while he assessed the damage to his beloved ship.

She had taken a severe beating. The foremast had been lost after one of its sails came loose, snapping the beam three yards from the base. Without the mast, travel would be slower, but far from impossible. The part of the deck where the mast had fallen was deeply cracked and parts of the railing missing where it slid off.

Beyond that the ship was well off, with only a few torn sails that could be easily mended. It was the crew that was most damaged; bruised, battered, and tossed about like dolls in a bin. Adrahil was perhaps worse off than all the others, yet just hours ago he dragged himself from a fevered sleep and joined everyone above deck. Arm bound and immobile, he helped where he could. Now he sat, slumped against Brandt's back, sleeping soundly.

"How is he?" Oros asked.

"He'll live," Brandt said with a smile. "He's tough. Stupid, but tough."

Oros nodded and walked away. He noted, humorously, that Es had attached herself to Dahari. She was sitting by his feet, chatting happily about nothing in particular, while the Elf drank from a strangely carved bottle, completely ignoring her.

Oros ambled back to Fendwall. He clapped the Lossoth on the arm, a silent "well done". Fendwall emitted a low grunt in reply. He was staring at the clear, bright sky, eyes narrowed in displeasure.

"I don't know where we are," he said. For the first time Oros heard defeat in Fendwall's voice.

...

Night fell and the strange stars blinked coldly at them from an immeasurable distance. So unwelcoming and foreign they seemed to Lendetheil as she stared into the depths of the black sky. It was so dark out here. Even the blazing lanterns lighting the deck seemed to draw their light in. Lendetheil shivered, though the air was warm.

To the back of the ship voices, tight and agitated, drifted clearly to her sharp ears. Silently she made her way over to the four people with their heads craned back, looking at the stars. Fendwall and Calen were debating heatedly about which direction the wind had blown them. Calen believed they had been blown south while Fendwall stuck stubbornly to west.

"Can't you feel it?" Calen said. "The air is warmer."

"And so is Gondor in the winter, yet it's no further south than it was in the winter," Fendwall argued. Calen scowled.

"The sun was too high for us to have been taken east," she retorted.

Lendethiel stopped listening. She found herself standing next to Dahari, who hadn't said anything. The bruises on his face stood in stark contrast against his translucent skin.

"You're quiet," Lendethiel noted politely, her upbringing forcing her to be courteous to him. She cringed inwardly, expecting a scathing remark. Despite him saving the Halfling, Lendethiel still saw him as a repulsive sea rat, worse than Caston, who brought dishonor to her people.

"I have nothing to contribute," came his weary reply.

"Then why are you here?" Lendethiel asked, forgetting herself for a moment. Dahari's eyes gleamed cruelly.

"I have been sailing for two-thousand years. Unlike some, my experience was needed." His voice cut suddenly like a whip. Lendethiel fell silent. Had she hurt him somehow? Or was he really just that bitter and jaded naturally?

"Are we really lost?" she asked, trying to appease him by letting him share his knowledge. The tactic had worked in the past with others. It didn't work this time.

"Yes," Dahari said curtly. He unfolded his arms and walked a few steps away. He stood there staring out into the ink-colored sea. Lendethiel sighed heavily. A sudden longing for her kin struck her, for civilized people she could trust. Talf was a welcome companion, but he was flighty and possessed only a basic education. He claimed reading was too difficult for him. Norin was far better, but she was young, and naïve, and mortal.

Calen and Fendwall fell silent, all arguments exhausted at last. The silence that followed was thick and heavy as fog in the morning. Lendethiel almost wished they would start bickering again, anything to break the oppressive silence.

Calen paced in nervous circles, chewing her bottom lip. Fendwall and Oros tapped their fingers, each to a different, but continuous, rhythm that melded into one single cadence.

Long into the night the five of them haunted the deck with hardly a sound. Occasionally Fendwall would mutter something to Oros. The captain would grunt in reply and silence would once again stifle the heavy air.

The first rays of sunlight were chasing away the gloom of night when Calen and Dahari, who had both been watching the northern horizon, gave a shout.

"Look, look!" Calen cried from the bow of the ship.

"Well, I'll be darned," Oros breathed. There, just above where the sky met the sea was the very tip of The Hunter, a constellation that guided many sailors northward.

"Looks like the girl was right," Oros laughed. "You're losing your touch, ol' boy."

"Oh, hush," Fendwall hissed, barely keeping the relieved smiled off his face. Secretly he was glad a way home had been found, regardless if he was right or not. Calen beamed happily.

The rest of the crew was summoned and soon wilted spirits were soaring high. It was all Oros and Fendwall could do to keep a few of them from breaking into a rum cask and celebrating. There was still too much work to be done to have their minds addled.

The only sullen one was Caston, but then, he was always that way. Surprisingly, it was Qrow who approached him with a wavering smile. Fendwall stared at them in disbelief. Qrow held out his hand. Caston scowled and grudgingly shook it when Qrow refused to back down.

Fendwall's attention was drawn away when Es ran past, clutching something tightly to her chest. Morien, Brandt, and Estella were in hot pursuit. Fendwall stepped back to avoid being crushed by the sudden onslaught.

"No! Stop."

"Why you little..."

"Give it back!"

"Hey!"

"Ow!"

"Get her!"

Fendwall whistled softly and pretended he had seen nothing. Oros came up to him with an amused grin.

"There's a small leak in the bow. I've seen Livian to patch it up. We'll be ready to go home in half an hour."

Fendwall nodded. They had discussed overnight their options, but once they saw The Hunter heading back to Umbar was their only choice. There would be no searching for treasure for a long time yet. There was food enough for fifteen days on full rations. It would take them more than twice that time to reach Umbar if the clear weather held. As it was there was a north wind blowing. The only way forward would first take them more east than north and then northwest, tacking back and forth until the north wind died.

Brandt, Morien, and Estella paraded past, holding up a hysterically laughing Es above their heads.

"Oi! What's goin' on 'ere?" Oros demanded with a grin. Estella turned and dropped Es' feet. She held up a small dagger.

"The little imp robbed me blind. Didn't think she could do it." Estella had made a bet with the Halfling. If Es could take her dagger from her belt, Estella owed her half the day's rations. Es had the knife in under an hour, resulting in a mad, half-hearted, chase around the ship. Estella was in high spirits though, so she certainly didn't mind sharing her food. How much could a little person eat? She quickly explained the situation and Fendwall and Oros laughed.

"You'll not be getting any of it back," Calen said from behind Estella. "Hobbits are ravenous creatures. I've heard just one can eat more than two fully grown men."

"You really believe that?"

"I didn't say I believed it. I said I heard it," Calen corrected. Estella shrugged. She didn't care.

Livian came up from the belly of the ship, slightly damp and smelling of fresh pitch.

"Haul anchor!" Oros bellowed. Morien, tasking with minding the anchors, recruited Brandt to help him pull the weighty anchor back on board. The original had been lost to the storm when Morien had cut it off to get the ship moving again. It had been replaced with a spare Oros always kept on board.

"Sails up!"

Talf and Dahari heaved on the sheets, sending the mainsail, which had miraculously survived, flying up the mast, also miraculously still attached. Es was comically and uselessly helping by tugging on the length of rope trailing behind the two Elves.

"Fendwall," Oros said giving the first mate a playful, mocking bow. Fendwall smirked and took the wheel in his big hands, feeling the White Raider come to life with a thrill of pleasure.

They were a ragged, wretched crew, but despite that they had survived. A more unruly crew, Oros couldn't ask for, but as far as crews went he would never again find one so resilient.

"Take us to Umbar, Fendwall. There's still treasure to be found out there."

...

Far to the north a black-sailed ship sailed silently among the ruins of a second ship caught in the storm and brutally ripped to shreds. Not a soul breathed, yet an ominous song ghosted over the still, murky water.

Come down
Give a hand
Ye who tire of land
Bear your crown

To Arvedui our King

***********************

Thus concludes the first adventure of our ragtag band of pirates. We will be immediately diving into the next, because downtime is no good in a story like this.

Keep a weather eye on the horizon.

Music credited to Chulainn
Treasure Hunt - Chulainn
Sept 17th, 2017
YouTube