[Child of the 7th Age]

With his ankle tightly wrapped in rags, Lindir made his way down the hill, all the while leaning heavily on Endamir's arm. Though encountering some difficulties with fallen debris and littered rocks, he had finally arrived back at the meeting point where they'd begun their search that morning. He was feeling much better than he had earlier in the day. The throbbing in his ankle was far preferable to the sense of isolation and despair that had overwhelmed him when the houseless spirit had threatened to evict his fëa.

Lindir located a stout branch that could serve as a cane and found he could hobble forward on his own as long as the ground was relatively even. The enclosure within the fortress was too littered with stones and rubble for him to go back into the ruins to hunt for Malris and Tasa, both of whom were apparently missing. Using his talents as a scout, he found a gentler path than the one they had originally taken that led towards the beach. Lindir decided to go down and secure a few items from the boat, meanwhile keeping a sharp eye open for Malris in the unlikely event that he and Tasa had ventured down to the shore.

The path was blocked in places by clumps of tall grass, but the descent was gradual, so that Lindir had no serious problems finding his way back to the ship. Arriving at the boat, he dug through his spare satchel and located a change of clothes, quickly pulling on clean breeches and a shirt. As he stopped for a moment to get a ladle of water from the barrel that stood in the middle of the deck, he realized that something on the ship was different. A few items on deck were shifted ever so slightly out of place. Hobbling as quickly as he could and navigating the ladder with some difficulty, Lindir checked the supplies and equipment first down below and then out on the main deck. Nothing seemed to be missing, but he could not shake his initial feeling that someone had come onto their ship and searched through their supplies and belongings, putting things back as closely as they could so as not to be discovered.

Lindir shook his head in frustration. He had his small hunting knife at his side, but had left his sword and bow back in the fortress, since these had only seemed like an extra burden at the time. Lindir had just decided he’d better go back to the others and get some help, when a rough voice sounded in back of him. Whirling around, he saw that four figures had encircled him dressed in rough mariner’s garb and were cutting off his means of escape.

A tough voice boomed out: “You’d best explain what you’re doing here. Elf or no, you owe us an explanation! We trawl these waters to ply our fishing trade and make sure no travelers set foot here. This isle is a killer of men. It’s been years since we’ve seen anyone on these shores. So what mischief brings you and your crew here today?”