Rating: G
Summary: Thorongil administers some bitter medicine…(a drouble)

U: LIKE UNSAVOURY URGES IN UMBAR

15 Urimë, T.A. 2979

Thorongil cast an annoyed eye over the five crewman who stood before him: his second mate, his pilot, his best helmsman, and two of the regular deck hands. Their pasty faces were a mask of misery, and it was clear they could barely stand. He hardened his heart. He did not have time for all this. The sooner he could get back to Minas Tirith with the information he had gathered on the activities of the Corsairs here in Umbar, the sooner he could put his plan into action.

He turned to his first mate. “Bring the black draught from my cabin.”

If possible, the men turned even paler--in fact there was a greenish cast to their complexion. One of them dared to say, “But Captain--that’s truly vile--”

Thorongil cut him off. “You are, of course, free to refuse to take your medicine. You are also free to find your own way home.” He turned and took the bottle proffered by his grinning first mate.

He poured out a large smelly dose. “Let this be a lesson to you all, the next time you get the urge to partake of seafood in unsavoury inns in Umbar.”