[Regin Hardhammer]

The combat that afternoon had been harsh, but the men fought with vigor and out of a sense of allegiance to their beloved Captain. Marreth fought alongside them, his brown cloak billowing out behind him as he dashed from one end of the shore to the other, engaging various Elves in hand to hand combat. He had killed or wounded three of them already, although he had fought many more.

Marreth was careful to be constantly moving so as to make himself a harder target for anyone wanting to pick him off. Despite Marreth’s intense hatred of the Elvish warriors and their appearance of being too soft, he had to admit that they were dauntless fighters and very well trained. His own crew was growing weary from the dense and unrelenting combat: several had died and many more were wounded. Marreth did not want to tell his men to retreat, fearing that it might convey weakness to the other side. But if a break in the fighting did not come soon, he felt he had little other choice.

Marreth had just finished skewering the head of another Elf with his rapier when three long, dulcet notes rang through the air, and Luindal’s party began to scamper towards shore. “Bloody cowards,” Marreth roared out to his crew, “Mates, we pounded them like an angry storm thrashing a frigate. But we are tired, and I hardly think that we have any need to finish them off. They have learned never to meddle with Captain Marreth and his crew.”

Despite his bold words, Marreth was very glad that Luindal had decided to retreat first, allowing the Captain to save face. In actuality, the battle had likely been a draw, and Marreth did not see how one side would have been able to gain any sort of clear advantage.

Smiling as he watched the Elves retreat, Marreth froze when Luindal sprinted past him. This meddlesome Elf was the chief obstacle that prevented the Corsairs from obtaining the Palantiri. And, although he was reluctant to admit it, Luindal had proven a shrewd and able adversary. Shivering with excitement, Marreth imagined the Elvish party retreating with the corpse of their dead leader. Now was the prime opportunity to eliminate this threat once and for all.

But taking out the Elvish leader meant much more to Marreth than simply a practical matter of getting rid of the intruder. Marreth’s insides bubbled with steaming anger against the leader. This hatred arose not only from the fact that Luindal had wounded or killed several of his beloved crewmembers, but also on account of his own father driven to madness and murdered by the Elf’s Gondorian allies after they summoned the living dead. In Marreth's mind, Luindal was becoming the symbol of everything that had given him trouble and was responsible for the death of this own beloved father.

Marreth snatched a longbow off the back of a crewmate and steadied his arm as he darted forward and aimed for the vile creature’s heart. Deftly, he plucked the drawstring, hurling the arrow through the air towards the leader. He drew back his arm and let the arrow fly straight and true. But, by chance, a gust of wind came from nowhere and pushed the arrow sideways, so that it grazed the side of Luindal's arm. The Elf looked up, dazed and confused, and saw Marreth’s scowling face. Before Luindal could return fire, Marreth dashed away, cursing the vile wind that had knocked the arrow from its path. Despite the disappointment, Marreth was not unhappy. He consoled himself with the fact that he had wounded and sent a clear message to Luindal. The Elvish leader should take heed of the signal that Marreth had given him: he was in grave danger of losing his life.....

Shouting out to his own men to pull back, Marreth led the Corsairs towards the shore oppsite the one where Luindal and his crew had headed.