[Alcarillo]

The sun was setting, but the intense battle was still lit by the braziers and torches the corsairs had used to light their arrows. The dense battle on the ships sloshed back and forth. The dead piled on top of each other, and still the soldiers and sailors fought on fiercely, hand-to-hand aboard both ships.

Captain Vórimandur had leapt alongside his soldiers from the Ráca to the Fame and Fortune, scattering the archers across the latter's decks like pigeons. He had killed one or two with long, slashing sword strokes before he and a group of sailors bristling with knives had came to the mainmast. They grouped together and charged shouting through the heart of the corsairs. "For Gondor and our king!" Vórimandur found himself yelling. He and the sailors pushed into the center of the deck, and began to swipe at the enemy ferociously. Two corsairs teamed up against Vórimandur, tempted by his fine armor; it would've made a perfect prize to strip from the captain's corpse. Vórimandur battered one corsair with his shield while attacked the other, slicing wildly at the man's shirt. Vórimandur's sword cut across the corsair's arm, and the corsair dropped his sword in fright and retreated through the battle. His companion, alone with Vórimandur, turned and ran to find his friend. So now Vórimandur, victorious, cut his way alone through the throngs. A corsair armed with a long black spear lunged at Vórimandur, but Vórimandur was quick enough to leap out of the way and kick the corsair in the shins. The corsair slipped and fell onto the deck, but Vórimandur could not stay to kill him, for another corsair was approaching. This one was dressed in black armor, and had long, fair hair arranged around his shoulders. There were several dressed in black armor just like his across the deck, and Vórimandur assumed they were members of some special order of corsair warriors.

The corsair struck first, giving Vórimandur's shield a dizzying blow with his fist, sending Vórimandur wheeling. Then the corsair lunged with his sword. Vórimandur wasn't fast enough to duck away, and the long sword tore into Vórimandur's upper left arm, now unshielded. The pain was at first very sharp, but soon it dulled into a throbbing sort of stinging. Warm blood began to drip from Vórimadur's arm. His shield suddenly felt very heavy to hold. Vórimandur ran through the crowds to escape from this warrior and to find an ally in the fight. He came out the other side of the battle at the Fame and Fortune's port rail, where he found an old sailor friend, Malengil, standing over a heap of dying corsairs, a spear in one hand and a long knife in the other.

"They put up quite a fight!" he said, grinning with his yellowed teeth, "But they couldn't take old Malengil!" He then frowned, seeing Vórimandur's wound, and said, "Cap'n, sir, you're bleedin'! Which ever of those dirty scoundrels did this…"

"I'll be fine," Vórimandur said. He leaned against the railing to catch his breath. "There was a fair-haired corsair, one of the black-armored ones. Just take my shield for me; it's feeling awfully heavy. And fight with me! I'll need some help fighting with one arm wounded."

"Aye, sir," said Malengil. He helped Vórimandur remove his shield, and they traded shield for knife. "Though I'm not sure how many you can kill with that arm," said Malengil. He grinned again.

"Captain, Captain Vórimandur!" a young soldier shouted, interrupting the Captain's brief rest. He emerged from the battle, slipping through the blood on the deck and stumbling over a dying body. "Captain, sir, I have grave news! Oh, you're bleeding…" Vórimandur waved his hand to tell him it was nothing. "Ah, yes, sir. Well, Sergeant Nillendion has been killed! I saw it myself. He took a big sword in the back."

The unwelcome news gripped Vórimandur's heart like a cold fist. So Sergeant Nillendion had finally met his end! There would be time later to grieve, and Captain Vórimandur pushed his sorrow aside for more important matters. "Tell me, soldier, what is your name?" said Vórimandur, "And what of the other soldiers? Is Commander Darnir leading them, and have they gone below decks yet to free the slaves?"

"Yes, sir, I think so. I was separated from them when Sergeant Nillendion was killed, sir. Oh, and my name is Nimlang, sir, son of Nimfang."

"Good. Nimlang, you can fight alongside us. This is Malengil. You two are to stay at my side in the battle. There's strength in numbers, and I've been wounded. Now, it was one of the black-armored corsairs that did it. I suspect they're part of some special guard, so be on the lookout for 'em! Now come, back into the battle we go!"

Vórimandur, and Nimlang and Malengil, readied their weapons and charged back into the fight, shouting battle cries into the clanging din of battle.

"For Gondor!"