[piosenniel]

Sunrise, and a fresh easterly breeze broke over the Lonely Star. Tulë stood on deck trying to gauge distances over the water.

Given the size of the caverns beneath Meneltarma, he had estimated that there was a possibility of having to rescue at least a thousand hobbits. If that were indeed so, then twenty ships would be required for the effort. Each ship could maximally handle fifty of the captives plus a minimal crew. The Lonely Star and its crystal would remain just beyond the southern bay, keeping a watch for any possible problems to the operation coming from that direction.

The problem that plagued him at the moment was how to transport all those ships and the Lonely Star out of that time period. It would not matter how successful the rescue was in Númenor if they were all sucked into the great rift that would occur when Ar-Pharazôn invaded Eressëa and the Valar broke the world.

In addition, several other questions niggled at the back of his mind. Given that the swan-ships must avoid the great armada launched from the western ports of the isle, that meant a longer southeastern route for them to avoid being seen. He ran through a series of mental calculations to determine when it would be best to send the call to the ships.

As to the call, itself, he had thought to use one of the palantíri located on the island. But now that he considered this in a more studied way, it was beginning to present problems. The growing sentiment of enmity against all things Western would preclude him from searching one out and using it. Though perhaps it would be possible for the man, Mithadan, to send the call. He would have to present that idea to him and get his thoughts on its viability.

The elf brought himself back to his original problem.'For now, though, let us work on the tactics of shifting en masse.'

He walked down to the galley to enlist a few suitable candidates for a trial run.