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The storm lasted for hours. The sea raged and ranted beneath the harsh gales, throwing the ships to and fro. But they sustained no casaulties, only minor damage to the ships. The sun had just come out when a man yelled out, "Man overboard!" The crew of the Rapscallion rushed to the sides to see who the unfortunate soul was. Acacia was the first to confirm what Doran was thinking.
"He's not one of our crew," she said. "Nor does he even look like a corsair. He looks Gondorian to me, like one of the folk near the city of Minas Tirith."
"Your probably right," Doran replied. "Men, get that man on this ship at once!"
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The man identified himself as Mayne of Captain Avershire's crew. He was a survivor of the battle against the Regal Dawn and Might of Realge but had been lost when the ship sank that he was a prisoner on. Doran figured that the storm had blown him in their direction. He spent two hours interrogating the man named Mayne, trying to piece together what happened. After that time, Doran knew the fate of his three ships, but not the fate of the men who crewed them. Nor did he know the fate of his opponents.
Mayne was obviously very tired and weary from his ordeal in the ocean and was giving away plenty of answers.
"The ship that the prisoners were on was more westward of this position. All I remember was that there was an island in the distance. It wasn't very far though."
"Was it the only island in the area?" Doran asked.
"Yes, I think so," Mayne replied. "At least I don't remember any others."
Doran nodded. "Jurex, have this man taken below. He can keep our dear Adeline company." Jurex nodded and he and two other crewman took Mayne below decks. Doran headed up to the deck.
"Acacia! Set our course due west until we see the nearest island. We can check for corsair survivors there, and we might even find somebody else," he said with a smile.
"Yes sir, Captain Doran," Acacia replied.
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The spotted the island and stayed three miles out and waited until dusk. Doran knew that there would be more than just corsair survivors on the island, if this was the island nearest the battle sight. Doran wanted to wait until nightfall, in case they had to surprise anybody.
Finally, it was dark.
He was in the lead boat as he and 20 corsairs from the ships rowed silently towards the island. They were making good speed towards the shore and soon they would be on land. He glanced behind him into the dark. He couldn't see any definite shapes but he could hear the soft sounds of the many oars dipping into the water. He took a deep breath and let it out softly. He and his men were ready for battle.
Suddenly, the speed of the boat was slowed as the quiet, grating sound of sand underneath the boat muttered from beneath him. The sounds of the other boats came to his ears. They were all ashore.
"Draw swords," he whispered. Amid the quiet ring of the metal, he added, "Follow behind me men and stay quiet. We might find some of our own men here so do not attack unless I give the command."
And with that said, Doran led his men on the final hunt.
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