With the roster rolled carefully away and mood jovial, Fendwall walked down the docks and into Umbar in search of more crew members. Oros had stayed behind to watch over his ship. He rarely joined Fendwall on his search for crew, preferring to let his first mate handle the paperwork and talking involved. With his spirits high and a brisk, cleansing breeze at his back there was nothing that could dampen Fendwall's mood as he walked to a tavern that had proved fruitful on every occasion.

Except for the riot directly ahead.

Fendwall pushed through the gathering crowd, irritation clawing at him. What in the blue blazes did they think they were doing? The people shot him dirty looks as he brushed past then recognized him and moved aside. Fendwall reached the center of the mass and to his surprise saw a red-head locked in vicious combat with a man twice her size.

Well, well, well. Fendwall thought. What do we have here?

Estella saw Fendwall and hesitated for just a moment. Long enough for her opponent to knock her to the ground and hold her a knife-point.

"Whoah," Fendwall said, "hang on, good man."

The man turned to look at Fendwall and sneered.

"Now," Fendwall placated, "I don't know what she's done, but this here lass is a member of my crew."

"What crew?" the man growled.

"Captain Oros'," Fendwall said loud enough for everyone to hear. A few took a step back.

"Cap'n Oros, eh? I used to work fer 'im," the man mused, absentmindedly scratching his beard with his dagger. Estella, wisely, did not move.

"Yer, ah," Fendwall searched for the name. He recognized the man, but couldn't put a name to him.

"Herrick,"

"Ah, Herrick! I remember," Fendwall snapped his fingers. "That was six years ago now?"

"Aye, an' I ain't getting' on another ship ever again," Herrick said.

"Aw, come on, it'll be like old times. I'm looking for a-"

"No," Herrick interrupted, "I ain't joinin'."

"A'right, just let the lady go and I'll leave you be," Fendwall said. Herrick let Estella go with a rough shove. The crowd dispersed and soon left Estella and Fendwall standing in the middle of the street alone. Estella opened her mouth to apologize. Fendwall forestalled her with a hand.

"Don't want to know," he said. "Come," he ordered and headed down a narrow alley. This was the oldest part of Umbar. Here the buildings were covered in a light dusting of salt from hundreds of years of exposure to the sea. Many of them still stood strong, though a few had crumbled to ruins. Even in the light of day the alley was dark. The closely crowed buildings blocked most of the sunlight from hitting the ground.

It stank of putrid water and years of refuse. Estella, following close behind Fendwall, wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Who lives here?" she asked quietly.

"No one you want to meet in the dead of night or light of day," Fendwall said.

"Then why are we here?" Estella whispered hoarsely. Fendwall didn't answer right away. He waited until they were outside of an unnamed tavern, known simply as; The Ghost. He turned to Estella with a grin. She eyed him dubiously.

"We're here," he thrust open the door, "to find some crew."

"Here?" Estella scoffed. Fendwall ignored her and stepped inside. Immediately the rich aroma of baking meat pies and succulent chicken roasting on spits over an open fire crackling in the center of the room. A quick scan told Fendwall there were ten people in the tavern; two young men in the corner sat in silence, carefully watching Fendwall, a man and a woman with red tatooes covering their faces sat too close to one another, three grizzled older men stretched out on front of the fire, tankards in hand, watching two musicians play a quiet tune, the tenth person was a black shape in the very back. The conversation was muted and the people mostly still except for the musicians.

A middle aged man, thickening in the girth, came out from behind a closed door. He saw Fendwall and gave a shout of surprise. he hurried over and clapped Fendwall on the back.

"Wolf, m'lad," he exclaimed happily, "it's been too long."

"Aye, that it has, Frederick," Fendwall said.

"What brings you here at this time of day?"

"Ah, you know me, can't find a good meat pie any where in this city," Fendwall said, "except here."

"I have just the thing for you, lad. Got two pies baking right now. Sit down in the corner and I'll fetch them for you."

"Thanks, Frederick," Fendwall said. He led Estella to a place a couple tables away from the two young men. They sat down and Estella leaned over, confusion written across her pale face.

"Meat pies? I thought we were here for crew members," she whispered.

"We are," Fendwall said evenly. "Did you see those two boys in the corner when we came in?"

"Yes."

"They're good crew members," Fendwall said stretching his legs under the table. Estella narrowed her eyes in disbelief.

"How do you know that?" she asked. Fendwall raised an eyebrow and leaned back.

"Meat pies."

Frederick returned with a brimming cup of dark ale and set it down in front of Estella with a wink.

"Curtesy of my boy in the back," he said. Estella glared at Frederick.

"I don't want it," she said. Fendwall coughed. Estella whipped her head toward him. Her glare made his skin crawl.

"I'd take it, lass. Fred's boy doesn't take kindly to being slighted." There were undercurrents of warning in Fendwall's voice. Estella grabbed the drink and took a gulp. The door to the kitchen closed softly. Estella's eyes flicked to the closed door. She wiped her mouth off with her sleeve and set the tankard down.

"Happy?" she growled. Fendwall nodded once and turned his attention to Frederick.

"How long 'til those pies are ready?" he asked.

"Give me a few minutes," Frederick said. He patted the tabletop twice and ambled over to the two boys, calling out cheerful comments to the older men by the fire. Fendwall turned his back so he could only see the boys out of the corner of his eye. Estella swirled her drink absentmindedly. She refused to look up.

Frederick could be heard speaking quietly. A low voice answered him with few words while a slightly higher, more boyish voice spoke several quick sentences. Frederick gave a small laugh and walked away. Several minutes passed with no sign that the two boys would move from their spot. Frederick brought out the pies and a tankard for Fendwall and left. As he turned he brushed his nose deftly. Fendwall hid a grin beneath a quick bite of piping hot pie. Estella took a cautious bite then immediately tucked in and ate rapidly.

Fendwall felt a presence at his side and slowly turned.

"How may I help you?" he asked evenly and without emotion. A boy of no more than twenty years of age with dark brown hair and brilliant blue eyes looked down at him. His face was high and noble and unweathered by time and experience. His companion, a shorter man with hair the color of pitch and curious brown eyes, looked to be only a few years older. Both were travel worn and dusty.

"Are you the one they call Wolf?" the blue-eyed man asked.

"Aye," Fendwall said easily, "who's askin'?"

"My name is Adrahil and this is Brandt," Adrahil said, gesturing to the man next to him. Brandt gave Fendwall a warm smile. "We're looking to join a crew," Adrahil continued.

"So you are," Fendwall mused.

"We were told you were looking for one," Adrahil began.

"I am," Fendwall replied. He leaned forward and gestured to the two remaining chairs."Have a seat."

Adrahil sat down in the nearest seat while Brandt grabbed the one on the other side of the table and sat next to Adrahil.

"Where you gentlemen from?" Fendwall asked, genuinely curious.

"Gondor," Adrahil answered. Fendwall nodded. He'd guessed as much.

"Dale," Brandt said. "I spent most of my life travelling 'cross country, ain't nothing compared to the sea."

"Aye," Fendwall agreed heartily, "nothin' quite like it." He pulled the roster from its hiding spot and presented it to Adrahil and Brandt. "Read through this and sign here," he pointed to an empty line, "if you still want to join. Yer not wanted criminals here I hope?"

Brandt shook his head. Adrahil was busy reading through the manifest.

"This is our first time in Umbar," Brandt assured Fendwall, "haven't had the chance to make mischief. Not that we would. Makes it harder to get onboard with a crew."

Fendwall nodded in agreement. Adrahil passed the roster to Brandt, who skimmed through it.

"Treasure, eh?" he said once finished. "What kind of treasure?"

Fendwall shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. He picked up his fork and pointed it at the two men. "Captain Oros hasn't shared with me yet, but he's been real excited the last several days. I'd say our chances of finding treasure are mighty high. You'll get out of this place a lot quicker too, and for free."

"We could just walk out," Brandt said good naturedly. Fendwall laughed.

"Ah, but where's the fun in wearing your feet out over dry land? The sea's the way to go."

"All too true," Adrahil said. Brandt elbowed Adrahil in the side.

"C'mon, Adrahil, you ain't sailed but once before!" he exclaimed humorously. Adrahil glared at Brandt. He looked back at Fendwall. who was now doubting the wisdom of taking the two boys on board.

"I learn quickly," Adrahil defended himself. He crossed his arms. "Brandt's sailed many times. He'll teach me."

"Says who?" Brandt mumbled to Fendwall then smiled to show he was kidding. Fendwall tapped the table thoughtfully.

"Tell you what," he said after a moment, "I'll let you come on board. Brandt can teach you and if you can prove to me before we reach our first stop that you're capable of handlin' a ship I'll let you stay. If you can't," he leaned toward Adrahil threateningly, "I'll leave you there."

"Aye, sir," Adrahil said, "I'll learn."

"Good, sign on and let me finish my dinner," Fendwall said.

...

Fendwall, Estella, Brandt, and Adrahil walked out of The Ghost and headed down toward the harbor where White Raider was moored. The wind had picked up since Fendwall left that morning. It blew brisk, salty air inland making the ships' rigging creak and groan like the souls of the dead.

Brandt whistled softly when he saw the White Raider.

"She's a fine ship," he said appreciatively. Fendwall was about to agree with him and proclaim her capabilities when a small figure darted out in front of him. Fendwall, strolling at full mommentum, tripped over it and landed face down on the docks. Estella covered her mouth to smother a laugh. Adrahil grabbed the small figure as it dashed past him. It was a girl.

Fendwall came to his feet in a fury.

"Where is it?" he demanded. Adrahil held the girl in front of him. Fendwall stopped in his tracks.

"Who," he seethed, "are you?"

The girl wrenched herself out of Adrahil's grip.

"I am Aldrida Burrows," she snapped. "Captain Oros let me join the crew not five minutes ago."

"Did he now?" Fendwall asked. "I'll be the judge of that," he said grabbing Aldrida by the arm and dragging her on board. Oros was waiting for him with an amused grin on his face.

"I see you found our newest member," he said. Fendwall looked from Oros to Aldrida, confusion written across his hard face.

"She's a child," he said incredulously. Aldrida jerked her arm away.

"I am a Hobbit," she insisted. "Why do you big folk always think we're children?"

"Because your small and easy to squish," Fendwall muttered under his breath. Aldrida glared at him. Fendwall sighed and pulled the roster out. He handed it to Aldrida with a scowl. Aldrida smiled and took it.

"Thank you kindly, sir." She bowed. "Call me Drida."

"Yeah," Fendwall muttered stalking away to the other side of the ship. Caston was still scrubbing the deck. He moved away as Fendwall came closer.

...

Three days passed without any new additions to the crew. Fendwall was in the city all day looking for anyone. He even lowered his tattoo standards, but still no one wanted to join. It was less than two days before they were too set sail west into the Belfalas Bay and then west to Tolfalas, their first stop before the journey west again into the wide expanse of open sea.

Fendwall scratched a list of items they would need, ignoring the shouting coming from the foredeck. Oros was reprimanding Caston again for whatever the Gondorian rat had done wrong. The others were hurrying to and fro loading supplies and repairing damages. Brandt and Adrahil were at the mast, Brandt explaining to the boy what each rope did.

Fendwall admired the boy's determination to learn, but he was moving slower than Fendwall would have liked. He despised the idea of having anyone on board who didn't know their way around a ship. Which was why the urchin, Es, was still locked in her room.

She was let out twice a day to stretch her legs and interacted with the crew a little. She was guarded rigorously the whole time. Drida had befriended her instantly and the two spent most of the day together, when Drida wasn't busy.

Fendwall folded up his list and set off for Lauf's Market, one of the few places he could get everything needed. Including a new compass, the last one had been thrown overboard by an angry sailor who soon followed it.

The market was oddly quiet for the time of day. An old man scuffed slowly passed the stalls, muttering to himself. A woman brushed past him, arms weighted with lumpy sacks. Two more women haggled over the price of a necklace with the seller. They wore richly colored clothes that told Fendwall they could probably afford whatever price he gave them. Fendwall smiled to himself.

Aside from those few people and the owners of the multitude of stalls, there were perhaps less than a dozen other people in total. Midway through the market there was a stall, insignificant from the outside, but what it contained was invaluable to any sailor. All manner of navigational instruments lined the shelves hidden behind a solid door. Fendwall was here for his new compass and a small package Oros had ordered days ago among other things.

Fendwall reached the stall and slid the owner the list and a sack of gold coins. The man disappeared inside and returned minutes later with a heavy box. Fendwall searched through it. making sure everything was there and in working order. The man smiled easily throughout the search.

"Thank you, Javert," Fendwall said. Javert nodded.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Wolf," he said. Fendwall shook his hand and went on his way. The women where still arguing over the price of the necklace, but as Fendwall got closer he realized they were fighting over who would get the necklace now.

Not wanting to involved himself in their bickering, Fendwall walked briskly past, box tucked securely to his side. He hurried down the dock passed dozens of ships loading and unloading cargo.

There was a shout and a strong hand grabbed Fendwall's shoulder and pulled him back just as a load of barrels crashed where he would have been. Breathing a sigh of relief Fendwall turned to thank his savior.

He came face to face with an elf. Pale, cold, grey eyes bored into his. The elf's skin had a sickly grey tint and clung tightly to the sharp bones of his face. Fendwall opened his mouth, but no words came out. He'd never seen an elf quite like the one before him.

"Ah, thank you," he said at last. The elf bared his teeth in a crude representation of a smile, bloodless lips curling back.

"The dead are no use to the living," the elf said. He handed Fendwall the compass, which had fallen out of the box. Fendwall nodded, dumbstruck. He took the compass.

"No, they are not," he agreed after a moment. "How can I repay you?" he asked.

"Word has it you're looking for a crew."

"Aye, I am. What of it?" Fendwall asked. The elf tilted his head up and Fendwall noticed a long scar across his neck.

"Work's hard to come by these days," the elf said. Fendwall smiled broadly.

"I think I can fix that..." he faltered. He didn't know the elf's name.

"Dahari."

"Well, Dahari, welcome to the Corairs of Oros," he said. He could only hope the strange, nagging feeling Dahari gave him would pass.