Character: A Corsair of Umbar
Disclaimer: All Tolkien’s – Kortirion’s just dabbling.
The river ran lumpily, the crosswind cutting the water into small waves, fleck-topped with dirty spume. I sniffed the air – there was no salt. Rather it smelt of iron, like rainfall on hot stone at summer’s day’s end. Iron-tang became the searing stench of steel quenching at the forge as the northern wind assailed us. Our black canvas stirred... but more than we knew rode that wind.
The Dead came upon us, a flood of evil from the mountain, led by a Sea-King from legend and his grey horde. Even their voices chilled skin to lumping goose-flesh as they struck...