NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: WoS expect my ships to drop by too, I have a pair sailing south, so if you can hang on till thursday (RL) morning, They'll head for the sound of the guns over the horizion, and being whites seing whites under assult by natrives, expect them to lend a hand, if the many ships ofg the other fleet let them.

(hey, Calarca. I've been looking into that Bolitho series of books. Given my affinity for naval warfare and whatnot, they sound quite interesting; thanks for putting them on my radar. Should I just start on the first one?)

OOC: Well, with WW7 coming up I don't have as much tiome to RP so...
IC:
Captain Crooke slumbered. It had been weeks since they had been shipwrecked. His slumber was interrupted by a voice yelling.
"Captain Crooke!"
He got to his feet and exited his tent. The Ellan 3rd fleet had arrived, and were going to rescue them.

OOC: Well, with WW7 coming up I don't have as much tiome to RP so...
IC:
Captain Crooke slumbered. It had been weeks since they had been shipwrecked. His slumber was interrupted by a voice yelling.
"Captain Crooke!"
He got to his feet and exited his tent. The Ellan 3rd fleet had arrived, and were going to rescue them.

"Send a message off to your leader. I shall have to stay here, then." Xeca drops the flame, and it fizzles on the sand. "Danny, back in step."

"Uh, right!" exclaimed Weathers, glad the situation seemed to be defusing itself. He turned around. "Hathoway! Go to the city; get Lord Fischer. Don't just stand there, man, go!" Weathers turned back to Xeca and Daniel. "Er, I'm afraid it may be a minute. If you care to wait in my tent, I'm sure my assosiates can continue practice on their own."

It had only been a matter of minutes since the Ceyloban charge began, but already the tide of battle had swung back and foth several times.

The WTM started off hugely outnumbered and under attack- the Ceyloban charge was broken and disoriented, a key figure in Walmington's defence was felled, and then the Ceyloban prince lost his pachydermatous steed -which had turned out to be less than thick skinned- and his men had begun to scatter in panic, the cavalry had made an attempt to cut off their retreat, but now it seemed they would be too few.

Durnford feared that if the Ceylobans escaped they could re-group, and re-direct their attack against perhaps two points at once -he wouldn't have enough men to defend both walls.

The marines made repeated attempts to drive the native warriors back into a killing zone from where all their rifles, the grenades, grapeshot, and defence guns could hit them at once, but since they may have to hold out for days, or even weeks after this battle until more ships arrived, their primary concern was in avoiding excessive losses. Their pushes were somewhat half-hearted and lacking cohesion since the fall of Sgt.Brent, who lay beside the wall several yards into the enemy ranks.

The Ceylobans meanwhile were suffering horrific losses, and several had already managed to slip away. Those close to their prince were formulating fairly effective defences against the cavalry, who had taken a few losses and deemed the position too difficult to attack, reduced instead to cutting down loan runners.

The attackers' frustration at the accurate and rapid fire biting into them from the balcony was evident, as many threw rocks and spears in a hopeless attempt to take down Durnford and his assistant gunners.

The Captain himself yelled for someone to be sent to the docks to see if they couldn't identify the incoming ships. If they're going to help us, we need them now, and if they're going to help the prince, well frankly I need time to figure out how to get out of this.

OOC sry i wasnt here for a while guys
whatever happened to the trade negotiations?
and i dont remember irutsk Turkestan rockets... but w/e


For about three days now, the First Flotilla of the East Banner Dragon Fleet had sat now, moored offshore FOrt Ash, awaiting word. Admiral Dai and most of the delegation had returned the night before, leaving High Commissioner An and Emissary Zhao still back on Iansislean territory. Aboard the Typhoon, a sixty gun, twenty rocket heavy junk, tensions remain, as do frayed nerves. Yet on the shore, a different atmosphere persists.
******

"one could concievably see why the Iansisleans are in control here," High Commissioner An said, with a slight hint of flattery.
the Iansisleans did nothing to acknowledge his comment but nod and continue sipping at their drinks.
"Yet we are also here to do something else," Emissary Zhao added.
One of the delegates lifted an eyebrow. "What may that be?"
"To find the Three JEweled Raj," An replied.
that drew a collective gasp from all around the table.
"What will you do with him? Ransom him off?"
"That is quite simple, friend," Zhao replied. "We plan to kill him and every last one of his damned pirates."
"the problem is, he lives within your territory," An said. "But perhaps you will let us look for him, even join us on a hunt for this..despicable pirate."
silence reigned, but it was not long before an Iansislean delegate spoke.

Danny nods. "Sure. Now, Xeca, what was that about kings? What's happened to Father and Icarus?" "Nothing you need to worry about now! Just get inside the damn tent." She pushes him firmly.

(ooc:If you're talking about specific trade negotiations, perhaps the I-T rockets thing, then never mind, but in case it's a general note about the lack of diplomacy and excess of conflict- on my part at least I can say that we've not met anyone besides the natives with whom to trade, and we already export to Walmington, hence the mission. The subcontinent is a large place, especially in C18th terms, and progress is slow. Or at least it ought to be.)

Fort Ash

Captain Chalms coughed and folded his napkin.

"His Majesty's government is well aware of this, ah, 'three jeweled raj', or at least the rumors of him. It is my opinion - and that of the Company anti-pirate fleet - that he is little more than native superstition and pirate willingness to indulge them. It is no secret that shipping in the Bay of Bengal and Gallaga in general is not the most safe in the world, but the notion of some pirate king running about masterminding the whole affair is rather silly, isn't it?"
_______________

Parade Grounds, New Shield

Weathers breathed a sigh of relief that they were willing to listen to him, and followed them into the tent.

"What's all this about kings and icaruses?"

"Danny here," Xeca says, "Is rightly Daniello Virtuum de Haus Blancum Prince of Lautach and Minor Islands. Or, he was.

"King Icarus White I and his first son, Frederick Malder de Haus Blancum Crown Prince of Daezeman, were out sailing two days ago. They got into an argument over something, we don't know what, and Frederick killed his father. He tossed himself overboard shortly after, wracked in greif with what he had done.

"Daniel is next in succession. He is King Daniel XVII of Daezeman in Ward of Haus Blancum. And to have him enlisted as a drummer boy in some other nation's army is without any doubt a problem on many scales."

Danny sits in shock. "Fa... father is dead? Brother... is dead? Oh... no!"

"Daezeman...king" murmured Weathers to himself. It sounded familiar, but he had little head for all the native kingdoms surrounding New Shield. However, the realization that his impressed drummer boy was the king of a neighboring state didn't have quite the impact it might have had on someone else. At last, he nodded at Xeca and the grief-stricken Daniel. "I quite agree, and hope the Lord Fischer understands. He's shown himself to be reasonable in the past.

"I do hope you forgive my rude behavior out there, but you must understand how intolerable it would be to show weakness in front of the native sepoy units. And, King Daniel, do accept my apologies for not believing you; I'm sure you understand the circumstances."

"King... Call me not King, I am only a man." These words would begin a tradition in Daezeman. "Now. If you wish me to serve my term, I shall." Xeca stands up. "No!" "Xeca, I am a man. I must do this for my honor." "O...okay..." She sits back down. "Now. What are your orders... sir?" Daniel salutes and stands at attention.

Daniel's words disconcerted Weathers more than he though possible. Slowly, numbly, he returned the salute.

"Young man, you have shown a maturity and pennance I thought beyond one so young. As far as this tired old soldier is concerned, you have served it. A thousand times over. If you simply will be so kind as to wait until this evening, you will be free to go."

"As you wish, Seargeant." Daniel turns away, looking to the sky. "Dios major... meus minor... ad infinitum, ad infinitum. Do you know what that means, sir? It is, "God is large, and I am small, forever, forever." It is oddly appropriate in times such as these."

bump!

(wow, missed that one ;))

Weathers glanced at the little boy. "Can't say latin was ever my strong suit. Always wanted to learn Ancient Shieldese, but never got around to it.

"Tell me, Daniel, there's one thing I don't understand...how in God's name did you end up in New Shield, all by yourself?"

"We shall discuss this. I was out sailing about three weeks ago, dressed just as I am now, when some large object came flinging out of the air, voosh, makes this huge wave. I wash overboard. I hit Mena'do Current, I floats here. After about three weeks, I am hungry. I steal apple. End up in your military. So."

Weathers nodded slowly, somewhat confused by Daniel's shifting speech patterns. "A large object, you say? As big as a cannonball? Bigg-"

A loud noise from outside cut off Weathers, who jumped to attention as Lord Fischer, the lieutenant, and Wheatman came barging in. Fischer looked Daniel up and down.

"So this is the little boy who threatens a mutiny of my troops, eh? On the eve of our march to Tejasm's palace, nonetheless."

"M'lord, you don't understan-" started Weathers.

"I understand perfectly, soldier," shouted Fischer. "I cannot tolerate a...a little street urchin who thinks he can manipulate the Grand Empire!"

"Quite right, m'lord," agreed the lieutenant. "Most intolerable."

Daniel stands quietly. "No, sir, you do not understand. For you see, I am not as simple a street urchin as you see. For truth, you might want to back away. I am a King among my own, though I knew not so until now. What I am to you is unimportant. I am willing to serve out the term you have appointed for me, if only for honor." He salutes. "Orders, sir."

Fischer considered the young boy. "Weathers, what in god's name have you been teaching this boy? A king? It doesn't matter what happens to you, at any rate, child. Already your poison has been spread. My sepoy units - on which the military defense of this colony rest - are ready to run away, back to Hiresh's domain." The Lord turned on Weathers.

"The entire stability of the New Shield colony, and thus of Iansislean intentions in Gallaga hangs by a thread, man. You have destroyed every pretense of control we've had thus far - how do you propose to restore Iansislean prestige?" Weathers, who was a large man for a Shieldian, trembled before Fischer.

"I...I..."

"I have incredible powers over all who call themselves sentient. Bring all those who wish to run out to the parade grounds, then."

Fischer whirled back at Daniel. "Do you indeed, boy?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "By all means - go preach to the men!" Waving his hand at Daniel, Fischer returned to Weathers. "An example must be made to prove that not all Iansisleans are as weak and stupid as you, Weathers. Corporal punishment may be out on the Shield, but I think that some old-fashioned whippings - of you and the ringleaders - would remind them that we're serious here."

(ooc - I need to go to sleep. Later on, man!)

Daniel's hand whips out, and Fischer is immobilised. "Insult, nor threaten, I nor my friends." He waves his hand and Fischer moves.

ooc: Night.

Zhao shook his head slowly. "My good Captain, you would not think that were you a sailor in our navy. In the course of three years, the fleet of the Three Jeweled Raj has sunk nearly two hundred fifty trading junks, twenty war junks, and killed up to several thousand people of Islandia. Furthermore, their fleet has supported nearly twenty different actions by breakaway separatists."
An drank down the rest of his tea. "This is the problem, Captain Chalms. Your government denies his existence, but we do not." An nodded to Zhao, who brought a small sealed package out of his bag.
Chalms sighed. Packages, packages, and more packages.

"We know for a fact that he exists," An said. "Because I led the task force that hunted for him." An paused for a moment, and turned back to Chalms. "THe reason Zhao was shipwrecked is because he was aboard the Dragon Wake, the fleet's flagship, serving as my Signal Commander for the flotilla of sixty ships. SOmehow, during our third and last engagement with the Three Jeweled Raj, Dragon Wake was blown off course. By hundreds of miles. ending up near Iansisle. I escaped before that, and resumed command aboard Heavenly Cloud, the second strongest ship in the fleet. To no avail. the crew of Salacious, the flagship of the Raj, boarded us, and he and i were locked in mortal combat. i managed to cut off this-" An opened the package quickly, and pulled out a hand, laden with ring. "-his hand, before leaping overboard and swimming to Virilient Wind, another ship in the flotilla. we had lost almost a quarter of our fleet there, and we returned home, beaten."

An leaned forward. "But what i tell you is this: the Three Jeweled Raj is more than just a legend: he is Wang Tienchou, a former captain of the East Banner Dragon Fleet. I would know because i recognized him, under all the scars and decorum, as the man that commanded Argent Dagger, a sixty gun ship lost in a typhoon twenty years ago. And one of my friends."

he was once known as Wang Tienchou. A legend amongst the battle hardened sailors of the East Banner Dragon Fleet and a shadowed myth told my mothers to their children, spoken of in revere, respect, and admiration. he was once a noble, upright man who had defended the Islandian Empire with all his soul; his exploits were as famous as that of Lotus Admiral Dai, already a folk hero to the disheartened troops of the Islandian Banner Forces.
To most, Wang Tienchou had died courageously, in, of allthings, a typhoon, a phenomena as common in the East Lotus Sea as a series of waves. Yet few believed in that story; most did not believe that the hero of Tien-sha, the victor of Ascension Atoll, and the triumphant Admiral of Phosphorus Lagoon could be wreaked so easily by a typhoon. Ironically, they were right, but Wang may as well have been dead. No one ever suspected just how lost Wang Tienchou had become, least of all An Waichu, his old friend and fellow comrade.
Wang had not only become a pirate, he had also become THE pirate; he held nearly all of the East Lotus Sea, the Indian Sea, and the Pacific in the palm of his hand. His fleets extorted tribute from thousands of lands, some as far away as madagascar. indeed, the life of a pirate was a good one.
but he had nearly been defeated; at the battle of Three Lagoons, just outside Islandian territory, sixty war junks of the East Banner Dragon Fleet laid waste to nearly a hundred junks of the "Three Jeweled Raj." While Wang had devastated the flotilla, in command of High Commissioner An (he was a Lotus Admiral then), Wang had lost his hand and a hundred junks, as well as his own son.

Wang smiled coldly as he gazed over the settlement of Fort Ash. His spies had brought word that the Islandian fleet had dropped anchor here, two hundred ships of the East banner Dragon Fleet. One fifth of the entire Navy.
How kind of them to think so highly of me, Wang thought wryly. Such a large welcoming committee.
His men were poised outside the town of Fort Ash, awaiting their chance. And it would have to be soon; Wang looked to his commanders, and shook his head. Just a little more time, he said. then you will have the reign to do what you will, kill who you wish.

And that, he reflected, was the sweetest part of it all.

Three rebels threw Biagio into the corner of their tent.

"He said to keep you alive, but he didn't say unharmed", said on of the Rebel Soldiers.

"Your making a big mistake there, friend", said Biagio.

"Oh, is he really white man?", answered another rebel.

"When did we become your friend?", said the third rebel.

"Heh, just a warning. Its your funeral", said Biagio very boldly.

One of the rebels charged at him and wrapped his arm around his body trying to lift him into the air. Once he had Biagio in his grip he gave him a bear hug. The cracking of Biagio's back could be heard by the other two guards.

"Thanks, I've had a stiff neck all week.", grinned Biagio.

He jabbed the guard in the back of the head repeatedly until he let him loose. Then did a body combo to the rebel's chest. He finished him off with a solid uppercut. Once the guard lay on the floor he motioned for the other guards to come and fight him. They hesitated and then ran at him. They tried to tackle him but Roberto side stepped and they collided with one of the supports holding the tent up. Biagio saw his chance and slide out just as the canvas collapsed. He kept running until he was as far has his legs would take him. Lost in the desert he fell to the sand and tried to gather his energy.

OOC: Ianisle, Yep, Bolitho is good, so is Ramage. Of the two I prefer Ramage as a rousing sea story with lots of action and Bolitho as the more realistic story. They are best read from the start of the series to the end, but they are all stand alone books too if you can't find them all.

IC:
Fort Ash harbour
The captain was having a hard time speaking with the strange sailor, Japanese not being his strongest language, He did however manage to pick out that they were aparently chasing some pirate, personly the captain thought they wouldn't have much chance with getting the Ianisleans to help, they were far too busy trying to rule the land, not to mention only competent sailors without any great flair for the sea.

off Celobya
The captain of the 22 gun frigate Admiral Coney (usually known amougst the men as the "Dumb Bunny" after the late Admirals lack of intelligence and his insane luck of never being killed until after he had been promoted due to so many dead superiors, which was held to have been itself due to his lucky rabbits foot.) was taking his regular walk along the quarter deck when the boom of distant gunfire was heard from the low shape of land off the port bow, "Beat to Quarters!" He bellowed to the first lietenant, "Bear to port, raise the topgallants and set studding sails, Trysails and crack on, Make for the source of the gunfire. Signal the brig to close up for orders then send them on ahead to see what they can"

Several hours later the ships were close enough to see the white smoke hanging over the town from the musket and cannon fire, but could see no more, yet.

(Alright, OOC: where is the big fleet? is the WoS garrison still standing up to the celobians? what does my captain see when two miles offshore at dawn the day after the cannonfire started? or is the big fleet gonna stop me?)

ooc:I have nnnno idea what others and their fleets are up to- my mighty pair of swivel-gun-mounting er..deadly warships have been sat at anchor.
The WTM is indeed holding out, having decimated the Ceylobans in their frontal assault.
By dawn the next morning (some 24 hours into the siege.. (IC-))

The Mission had repulsed the first attack, and scores of Ceylobans lay dead and crippled on both sides of the walls and barricades. The mission's tiny one room infirmary is also crowded with fallen Marines- relatively few men, compared to the native losses, but casualties the defenders can ill afford.

The Ceylobans have fallen back, and through the night skirmishes have probed the WTM's defences, resulting in a handful of native casualties.
Durnford took advantage of the night's relative cover to dispatch a team to the harbour before the Ceylobans would think to strike at it (they had no back up plan- 'walk in, take the mission, figure the rest out later' was the prince's considered thinking).

Eight valuable men cast off in one of the yatches, scuttling the other lest the attackers liberate its guns. (A gamble? It was supposed not- if so few would escape as to be accomodated by two such tiny vessels, then none should try, according to Captain Durnford.)

In the early hours, as the Mission prepared for possibly renewed attacks, the small boat made its way under white flag towards the incoming vessels (ooc:I don't even know of which fleet- whichever cares to be in its path, I suppose)

Fischer stood frozen, every muscle in his body protesting against the imprisonment. The lieutenant and Wheatman looked on, unable to do anything to help their stricken lord. Only Weathers knew what was going on, as his eyes darted from Fischer to Daniel, then back again.

Suddenly, Fischer was released. He stood staring at Daniel. "Ye gods - what was that?" came out in one breath. "Such power - how is it done?"
____________

Fort Ash

The entire population of the trading post, all ten of them, had turned out to dinner. Because they had no agricultural abilities beyond a simple vegetable garden, most of the food had to be bought from the natives, with everything from textiles to musket balls to lumber, which was delivered to the Fort on a bi-yearly basis from Company headquarters.

Chalms gazed in disgust at the hand, putting down his laden fork. "An interesting story, but it does not indicate a piratical empire, not to me at least. A rogue group, to be sure, but not an empire.

"And, besides, what can Iansisle do for you, at any rate? We have a single frigate - the Southern Star - in the area, and only one fourth-rater in the theatre. The naval buildup continues, of course, but it will take time."

"It cannot be trained in, it must be born. Though it is thought that by enough exposure to the natural powers of the soil of Daezeman transfers a little of it." Daniel sighs. "What must I do, then?"

The Lord Fischer closed on Daniel slightly, eyes glinting. "Why, with powers like that, there'd be no reason to stop with Tejasm...we could unite all the princes of the Ganges...of Gallaga, under my rule. Not even the High King could stop me!" he muttered, eying Daniel. "Tell me, young king, where might I find this, ah, 'Daezeman'?"

Daniel's eyes glint. Fischer is immobilised, and Xeca stands up, her hands glowing. "No. You shall not know."

"Daniel, release him," said Weathers, calmly, "and leave. We have no power to detain you further, and certainly no right. I am humbled by your gracious spirit, and wish you the best of luck on the throne." If Fischer could have moved, he would have wheeled on Weathers. Instead, the lieutenant spoke, so lowly he could hardly hear himself.

"One should be more careful with words and loyalty, Weathers. Gallaga is a big, scary place."

"one should be more careful with words, Mr. Fischer. After all, I am a sovereign in my own right. And Mr. Weathers there is under my personal seal of protection." Danel twirls his hands, and Fischer dances uncontrollably.

"Now see here!" exclaimed Wheatman. "We're all most impressed with your tricks, but further bickering gets us nowhere! You!" he pointed at Daniel, "Release him, and be on your way! You've caused damage enough for one day!"

"Do not speak down to me. I am not what you think I am." Daniel releases Fischer. "Bastard wants to exploit my sovereign state for his own gain... If this was my territory, you'd have been dead by dawn."

Fischer gasped and brushed himself off, some of the arrogance gone. "But this is not. I know not how a full volley of musketballs would affect you, but we shan't have to find out, will we?" he asked, more of an order than a question. "Leave us be," he added, glaring at Weathers maliciously.

"Those who use parapowers for their own gain may not enter my country. Thus is the law." Daniel sighs. "And people wonder why we're hidden off to ourselves."

All the Iansisleans in the tent were now ignoring Daniel and Xeca, as Weathers continued his stare-off with Lord Fischer.

"I have done nothing wrong in the eyes of the crown," whispered Weathers.

"The crown's power in Gallaga is weak, fool. I rule here - not some King ten thousand miles distant. You have wronged in my eyes. And you shall suffer the consequences for you actions."

"If only Bartholomew was in the area..." Xeca mutters. Daniel turns to her. "Wait! I had seen someone like him... but how would we get him in here?"

(eh? Bartholomew? Afraid I've lost you...)

The Iansisleans continue to argue, Wheatman unsure of who to side with.

ooc: Every Daezemani has a talent. Whether it's control of human motions, fire, or teleportation, or possibly creating springs of random liquids.

"...and, under the authority granted me by the High King of the Empire, I hearby stip you of your rank and discharge you without honor from his majesty's service!" exclaimed Fischer, turning purple with rage.

(ooc - ah. So, who's Bartholomew? ;) )

ooc: The fellow who turns people into the animals they most resemble. Very fun at parties.
ic: "Mr. Weathers, in light of your recent dischargement, I would like to take you on as a... bodyguard myself, or any other position you choose for yourself."

Weathers, who was getting ready to lunge at Fischer, heard Daniel's words. His thoughts returned from the smirking Lord to his family in Iansisle. He had more to live for than just himself. Smiling at Fischer as if to say "you're not worth it, sorry.", Weathers turned to Daniel. "Your Majesty - er, Daniel - I would be most honored to accept, in any capacity you'd have of me."

(don't worry about the modern Weathers - his proper ancestor's already been born, and is a strapping young boy living in the central Shield, wondering every now and then about his distant father.)

ooc: Right.
ic: "Now, Mr. Fischer. Are you going to leave my employee alone, or am I going to have to bring this up before the High Courts of Iansisle?"

"Your employee?!" spluttered Fischer. "You're a little boy...you...he can't!" The lieutenant and Wheatman looked at one another while Weathers grinned.

"m'lor...excuse me, Mr. Fischer - I don't need you, nor your army. As you can do nothing to stop me, I think my employer and I shall be walking out of this god-forsaken colony. Good day to you."

Weathers motioned Daniel towards the door while Fischer shook with impotent rage.

Daniel exits, and heads for the ship docked at the bay. "International relations... if they are to be like this... I shudder to think."

Weathers trailed him. "I wish that I could be a good mentor in that area, Daniel, but it is neither my training nor my passion."

"Understandably. A small warning. On our soil, all different sorts of extranormal powers are found. People may fly, or have objects fly to them. It is unpredicatble."

Weathers bit his lip. "Unpredictable, sire? I shall try my best to be prepared, though I know not how I may react to such events. I'm just a fairly average man, though my insights on the Iansislean forces in this area may be of great value to you."

"Just don't worry when coins grow legs and scuttle off."

Weathers laughed, then thought of his family back in Iansisle. Their coins would be running off soon, too, unless...

"Sire, I don't know any way to put this less bluntly, but I must ask about, er, pay. I've a family to support back in Iansisle - the reason I came to Gallaga in the first place."

(I need to go to bed - later, man)

(OOC: no news from the other fleet approching Ceyloba so I'll just assume I get there first.)

The Admiral Coney heaves to and signals the small launch to approch, hoping for more information on just what was happening ashore, by this time all men were standing too at battle stations and all guns were loaded and run out, loaded with grapeshot, (16x 12 pounder guns @ 8 per side, 4x 12 pounder bow and stern chasers, 2 fore two aft, 2x 24 pounder carronades one each side. total 22 guns, 12 pounders have 1500 yard effective range carronades have 600 yard range)
Once a delegation from the boat are aboard the captain strides up to them and asks, "what the hells going on ashore there, looks like a native revolt from here, You buggers screw up?"

(OOC: Yes I know, he's as tactless as hell and twice as crude.)

OOC: sorry for the delay, haven't had much time online ...

IC:

First Knight Lieutenant Torak watched the exchange on the parade ground, and swore colourfully and at length ... he and his small command of twenty-three, had taken shelter in the shadows of the nearest building that afforded adequate cover and no guard ... they were not quite lurking, but certainly being surreptitious.

His Command consisted eight Knights Lieutenant and fifteen Clansmen from Night Winds. The Imperials were all from predominantly - but not pure - Old-blood backgrounds, to his well trained eye they showed obvious signs of Altered-blood, but they could easily be taken for superb specimens, examples chosen for some culturally determined physical 'ideal' ... he perceived a diplomatic problem straight away. He saw no wymyn in the barracks or on the parade ground ... his lips thinned in distaste; not female warriors at all, three of his Imperials were wymyn ... the Knights Lieutenant would be almost impossible to offend, but he was not looking forward to the potential for trouble that the six female Clansmen represented. Those of Night Winds were notoriously touchy about honour and offence. He slowly breathed in and out again, settling himself; it was fortunate indeed that he had life and death power over the Clansmen ... no this was not going to be easy at all ...

Second Knight Lieutenant Shaya gripped his arm and drew him further under cover. She had that distant look in her eyes that meant that she was in Communion with the HandMaiden, just as the Shur'bathi Communed with the Empress. Speaking with Shaya now, would be as if speaking directly to Jaheen ... and, he shuddered at the thought, potentially Speaking with the Goddess Incarnate Herself ... thanx be that the HandMaiden was the middle link in that chain. The Voice of the Goddess Herself would destroy the mind of someone with as small a talent as Shaya's ... Torak shiver despite the heat, and thanked the Goddess Herself, that his meagre talents were purely martial.

He spoke to Jaheen, "Forgive me Shur'bathi, but this is a minor disaster! Weather's we could have dealt with, but that man Fischer is an imbecile." His voice was flat with disgust, "Praise be to Her that we took the intelligence provided by the Bhutanians seriously and brought only humans." With a calculating eye, he assessed at his small command and glanced at the parade ground. "This is not going to go well, Lady."

Shaya Spoke with an inflection that belonged to the Shur'bathi, and not to the blunt warrior whose Voice she used, "Torak, now is not a good time to make yourselves known to Fischer. He has been publicly humiliated and will be ..." Shaya's lips curled in a wry smile that belonged on Jaheen's face, "touchy at best, and homicidal at worst. Be open about your diplomatic mission, but see if you can find a good inn, or even officers' barracks ... try the parade ground sergeant ... he seems to dislike the lordling as much as you do."

Suddenly Shaya's face cleared. She nodded curtly to him. Torak smiled briefly to acknowledge her 'return'. Now he was on his own ground.

He straightened and quietly called his warriors to assume a more formal formation, he tugged at his leather vest and shrugged his broad shoulders to settle his many hidden weapon.

The first Imperial representatives to the city of New Shield, waited for the puffed up parody of a general to leave the field and walked boldly into the open.

Cpl.Peters introduced himself to the Calarcans as being of His Majestey's Royal Walmington Marines, defending the Walmington Trade Mission to Ceyloba.

"I dare say its the natives who've been screwed up, sir. Aye, by the rifles of Captain Durnford's command.

"To be honest, we aren't quite sure what's brought it on. Native prince turned up the night before last with near a thousand men, and attacked the mission yesterday morn. It's almost like they knew the fleet was coming" he said in reference to the expected reinforcements he hadn't directly mentioned yet "..and resolved to get us out of here while they thought they stood a chance.

"Of course whatever great admiral they send up from home won't be best pleased by the attempt.

"I'm sure I'd love to get to know your people and purpose, but I'm afraid we're not out of the woods yet. There's still a few hundred of the blighters trying to get at the mission. "

Looking around at the assembled firepower he ventured "I dare say they'd give it up once they got a glimpse of this lot."

(I believe Weathers has left with Daniel and Xeca, though you may find favor with other officers of the Army Corps. Lord Fischer - a man with little formal matial training - is quickly finding disfavor with the majority of the professional soldiers. And, yes, there is a good deal of sexism in Iansislean society, both in historical and modern times. I don't agree with it ooc, but it's needed to maintain the ic flavor of the country.)

A Gallagan enlisted man looked up at the sudden arrivals. His eyes grew, and he shouted out in Gallagan. Those around him followed his outstreched finger, and soon the air was filled with excited talking. Senior Iansislean officers, NCOs, and enlisten men came running, concerned about another disturbance among the already shaky native troops. They were under a tight deadline to march for Tejasm's capital, and the Gallagans had to be ready. A young captain, whose nametag read 'Conrad', was the highest ranking officer on the scene.

[bookmarking. sorry for the interruption. :)]

The shores of Ceyloba

Captain Genorcy of the Admiral Coney nodded.

"Natives can be like that, look at a pretty girl out in the market place and suddenly they're trying to strangle you with your own intestines... strange buggers. Still theres some things we can do to to help some other civilised beings, are you authorised to speak for you superiors? if you are you could make a request for a bombardment, a few broadsides of grape at this range follwed by a whiff of canister and those darkies will be heading for the hills. Whats left of them anyway."

"I certainly shouldn't think anyone at the mission would mind fire-support, announced or not.. so long as it doesn't hit them, of course!"


(sorry that's not more creative, dejection is the theme for the evening here, I'm afraid. Hopefully the mildly depressent impact of alcohol will clear that right up in a while.)

Ceyloba

"Sounds like permission to intervene in others international affirs to me!" crows the rather bloodthirsty captain, "Make signal to the brig, 'engage the enemy', and open fire on the darkies!"

At this point the ships are 500 yards offshore, and the mass of the insuregants could be made out milling around 800 yards further inshore, quite withing range of the 12 pounders.

"Port guns will fire braodside, we will then come about and the sternchasers fire as they bear, then starboard guns fire as they bear. Relaod with Canister and we will come about and the bowchasers will fire as they bear, followed by the port guns.
We'll see where the buggers are after that.
Gunner! Open FIRE!"

BOOM! bang, bang, BOOM! bang, bang, BOOM!

"They are here! They are here already! The ships come!"

The prince had barely begun to scoff at his subordinate, sure that he'd organised the attack in plenty of time to beat the Walmingtonian reinforcements to the Mission, when the Calarcan vessels caught his eye.

His men began to shift in their loose formations, a murmer of considerable unease spreading amongst them. They could hardly be said to be winning against little more than a hundred Walmingtonians, now more were arriving?

The prince firmly dictated words of assurance to his men, a few of whom had called out for a retreat, it did no good however, as the pulsating throng of men let out a gasp and ducked (woops, that was a typo and a half) in unison as the first ripple of cannon fire rang out from the ships.

The defenders around the walls of the WTM could be seen to stand and crane their necks about at the noise- and shortly to cheer as the shots ripped into the huddled Ceyloban mass, sending men and limbs sprawling out of the rear few ranks.

The survivers turned towards the prince, rows of huge white eyes staring at him, he stood, looking down at the blood splattered over his chest and arms. After a second, realising that it was not his own life running off his fingertips, the prince turned his head back towards his men.

"Is that the best they can do? Look!" he indicates the fallen "Barely a dozen of our brothers struck! Stand up, men, and we shall finish th.."

The next shots from the stern of the Calarcan vessels flattened another few unfortunates.

The Walmingtonian 6pdr added its own chime to the chorus of fire, and was quickly drowned out by the second broadside from the fleet.

As Ceylobans began to pick themselves up, first one, then many began to shout "The prince is dead! The prince has fallen! His head is off!" And the prince was indeed killed by the broadside.

Those who could run did so with all their might, scores of men scattering back towards the hills in the east. About three men crouched beside their fallen prince -his personal bodyguards too shocked to even attempt to prevent the disorderly flight of the irregulars. They wouldn't have long to regain their senses, as shots continued to fall, and as soon as the barrage lifted, the cavalry would likely be sent out for them.

"Cease Fire!, Stop wasting ammo you daft lummoxes! Now would you look at that, The damn cowards are running. Arighty then, Marines! stand by the boats (Theres 20 marines in bright green coats with red Fezes), ten topmen, take the 1 pounder swivel, ten of the foremast hands, take the tripod, five afterguard, a keg of pouder and a few dozen loads of canister, Man the boats!"

Turning to the Walmington near him the capatin remarked.

"Would you like to go ashore again? I'm sending Lieutenant Starsky and midshipman Hutch witht he maines and a swivelgun team ashore to reach the fort or mansion where your chaps are holed up. You're welcome to join."

A short time later the Walmingtons on shore could make out the view of three boats pulling from shore, originating from the 22 gun frigate heaved to out in the harbour, A Calarcian flag flowing proudly from the Masthead.

Of course the Walmingtonians are glad to get back to the mission to see that their comrades made it through the morning.

(ooc:Remind me (I have a terrible memory) where is Calarca? NZ? Or am I thinking of someone else? I'm supposing that if you're from the southern oceans we've probably not met before to-day?)

The WTM-

"It looks like we have some friends in Gallaga." Started one of Durnford's deputies. "Who'd have thought it?"

"Don't look so pleased." replied another "We'd have been alright. These fellows are a bigger threat themselves, I'll warrent."

"Gentlemen, this is not the time for idle speculation! We have guests" Said the Captain, observing the launches.
"Sergeant!" He called over the balcony for Brent.
"Sgt.Brent's in the infirmary, sir. In a bad way. Head all knocked in, sir."
"Well then, lets hope our guests bring back the honoured Corporal, I want him leading a bayonet detail." Durnford went on, nodding at the blanket of dead and wounded Ceylobans. "Then we'll need them burried as soon as possible. We don't want any badly wounded prisoners, mind, neither the space nor the time for them. Do tell Peters."
"Yes sir."
"Now come, we have a mission to tidy and friends to greet."

The Calarcian delegation follow the Corporal up the streets to the building where the Walmingtonians were holding out, as they go the Cpl occasionally stops and bayonets a writhing native while muttering "thats for ......(enter friend or comrade killed)" as he does so. The Calarcians watch amusedly and occasionally reach doan and snatch a particuarly interesting or valuable bangle or other piece of native jewelery.

Finally they reach the gates of the Trade mission.

*************
OOC: Yup, NZ, we come up the south side of Sumatra/Indonesia and stike due west to land about Madras-ish, Gasgage to us Calarcians. We also have a fort where Singapore is today, and Ianisle has one a few leagues away in Batam. be interestign about 1880ish when we get long guns that can reach each other.

This pair of ships is heading south on a voyage of exploration, theres also another pair I'll have to RP up a bit in Fort Ash, smae job, but heading north.

An shrugged. "We do not need your help, good captain, only your consent to hunt down Captain Wang." he quickly put the hand back in the box, noting the disgust on Chalm's face, and put the package away.

Zhao took a sip of his tea before continuing. "our last movements put him twenty li out from here, on FOrt Ash. We believe also that your post may very well be in danger of attack from Captain Wang and his fleet."

"In any case, this is the information we have on Wang and his tactics and movements," An said, giving Chalms a package sealed in watertight canvas. "We must return to our ships now, for the hour is late, and we must continue on our way in the morning. in a few days, more ships will arrive to carry out the agreement between our two nations."


as the delegates were on the dock, flames burst out from the trading post, and the entire surrounding area was alight in gunfire. bullets whizzed past them, hitting several people, but missing most as the delegates ran for their respective fleets.
An dived for the boat just as it left, pulling a waterlogged Zhao out of the ocean and onto the launch as it made for the fleet. he pulled a signal rocket out of the bag, and quickly set it, lighting it in a matter of seconds and sending it on its way heavenwards.
the rocket burst into a cluster of red comets, signaling for reinforcement. within minutes, Marines were lowered, and the fast frigate Sakura Wind was on its way to pick up the delegates.
An wondered if Chalms believed in the myth of the Three Jeweled Raj now.

(so, where are the pirates? Also, sorry it took so long to respond - got kicked off the computer for a couple hours. Is the fire Fort Ash burning, or are snipers in the complex itself? Sorry, I just want to clarify things before I give an IC reply ;))

Captain Wei looked at the Calarcans strangely. he could have sworn he heard the crackles and pops of gunfire, but he wasnt sure yet, and he definitely wasnt going to move in unless An or Zhao fired off a signal rocket.
Wei turned to Fire Corporal Lin, who had a batch of signal rockets in his arms and nodded. To his left, Niang began explaining slowly to the Calarcans the usage and methods of the rockets, while the rest of the crew was in a steady humdrum, bored and worn down to a predictable routine over the past few days.

up on the mast, Qiao was attending to a line of signal flags that had blown off. he was stringing them back when he noticed a bright rush of red, followed by streaks and the sound of an explosion, as well as gunfire and bright orange explosions.
Wei noticed it at the same time. he began barking orders and tried to explain to the Calarcans that his comrades were being attacked. luckily, they seemed to know what was going on, and they quickly took the rockets and hurried back to their ships, waving as they went.
Wei sighed in relief as he noticed the Sakura Wind, the fastest frigate in the East Banner Dragon Fleet, sail out to meet An's launch. As a precaution, he sent two boatloads of Marines anyway, and made a mental note to commend Captain Takeshi Ichigo on her initiative.
it was then that the Qiao began calling out that there were junks fast approaching to port.

Wang looked over the town of Fort Ash, alight in gunfire and swarming with his pirates. Too bad there were only ten people, he thought. He and his men could have used some fresh, virgin females after some long, lonely months. he grinned. Being a pirate was a harsh life, but he liked being in control of his own destiny. besides, if he ever was caught and put on trial, no one would believe the charges. Wang Tienchou? victor of twenty different battles and countless campaigns for the Empire, a traitor? he shook his head. no one would even suspect him, not for a second.

he watched as his infantry swarmed into the town, searching for prisoners. he frowned when word returned that no one was in sight.

before long, however, cannon fire began to dot the night sky as four hundred junks of the "Three Jeweled Raj" began to slug it out with the two hundred war junks of the Islandian Navy. Wang smiled. They had won last time because they were outnumbered by less than two times. now, they faced Four hundred. no flotilla could win.
and then, perhaps he would get revenge on An for cutting his hand off the last time they met. and for stealing Kotoko from him.

Captain Ohmura Maho, skipper of the Silver Willow, looked out on the rolling blue ocean and grimaced. the flotilla was no where in sight, and her signal rockets, which could be seen and heard for hundreds of miles, were not being answered. Which meant that there was no one around to see her, hear her, or answer her.

She sighed. Of all her luck; to be blown off course on her FIRST command. The twenty gun, twenty rocket war junk was a fast ship, almost as fast as the Sakura Wind, one of the most famous vessels within the East Banner Dragon Fleet and the most recognizable, next to Argent Dagger and Tantamount Discord, commanded by Captain wang and Admiral Dai, respectively. But that was before Captain Wang had disappeared in a typhoon similar to the one which had hit the flotilla several weeks ago; now, Silver Willow was so off course they had to rely on century old charts and the stars.

Maho brushed back her hair from her face. A beautiful woman of thirty two, she was very young for command, and had only been an officer for about six years before recieving the Silver Willow. Before, she had served as artillery officer aboard the Red Moon, a sixty gun war junk.

her friend, Takeshi Ichigo, commanding the Sakura Wind, was easily the most recognized skipper in the East Banner Fleet. everyone knew of the famous frigate/medium junk, which broke four of the fleet's records, zipping from Chimeini Atoll to Rugola in a matter of two days, when all the others required at least five days to a week.

Maho sighed again and slipped down. she wished that she was half as famous as Ichigo, and a quarter as able as the stocky, indomitable Asian. There were plenty who first argued agaisnt her command in the fleet, but luckily, even Admiral Dai pushed her case, taking the example of Ichigo as support for his argument. and support it was, for she soon became a captain, with the waves and bars of the rank pinned neatly upon her shoulder.

plenty had still scorned her, citing her sloppy yet heroic record, and dismissing her effectiveness. but they had forgotten to note the time when she had taken command of Red Moon after her captain was killed by a separatist shell. And the time that she had led Silver Willow against three other junks of the Separatist fleet, sinking all three cleanly. It was only her routine duties which wore her out, as she lived off excitement.

her first officer, Commander Nguyen, approached. a careful, efficient man who had served aboard countless other ships, he would be a captain were there not a critical shortage of ships in the massive East Fleet. still, rumor had it that Nguyen was due to transfer to command the Blue Tryst, a forty gun war junk under construction. If they got back from this alive.

"Land has been sighted, ma'am," he said simply.
Maho nodded. "Make for land then, Commander. Stow the guns, but keep the rockets out. we dont want anyone to think we're unnecessarily hostile but we still want something just in case."
Nguyen nodded and began to shout orders.

Neither of them, at this moment, knew about Vanzano, nor could they have possibly anticipated what could have happened next that would have changed the course of history.

(ooc: nice setup Will!)

The ocean's placid water beated calmly against the shore in subtle waves. The horse he had stolen lay lame a few miles back, and he doubted whether it would survive the night. His food was eaten and almost all of the fresh water was drunk. The slow mist that had covered the area had begun to set and in the distance he saw a dark silhouette of a ship. It was of very strange design. Unlike most he had ever seen before. The ship came closer to the land by the second as he sat comteplating its origin. Eventually he was able to make out the markings on the side of the ship with his especially keen vision. They were foreign symbols. Perhaps of the natives or...someone else. He knew many other nations were settling this vast, resource rich land and perhaps this was just one of those many. Whoever they were he was sure it would be better to be in their company then dying on a beach, head down in the sand.

"Hey, over here!!!", he began yelling and flailing his arms in the air. He repeated it in all the langauges he knew, Italian, French, Gaelic, Punjabi and English.

anchored less than a mile offshore, the Silver Willow sent several launches, laden with Marines, several sailors, and some officers, namely Captain Ohmura and Commander Nguyen. Before long, however, they noticed a man who was waving to them, flailing his arms like a madman before collapsing onto the beach. Several Marines accompanied Captain Ohmura and Nguyen as they approached the man, who lay inert on the sand.

Maho reached him first, ignoring the warning cries of her soldiers. She noticed that he was tanned, probably from days of wandering, and undoubtedly a soldier from the way his muscles looked and his build, which she found- disturbingly attractive. the sight of a mysterious stranger sprawled on the beach awakened long forgotten emotions and wariness at the same time.

they took him aboard a launch, gathering some food and drink before ferrying him back. they found several plants that bore coconuts, a spring, and some wild boar, which they hunted. before long, they had enough provisions for a few weeks more, and they were soon aboard the ship again, as they didnt know anything of the natives yet.

the man was carried belowdecks and laid on a bunk, given water and food, and before long, began to awaken. The doctor had said there was nothing wrong with him, only a few cuts, bruises, and some dehydration and hunger, and that he should be fine after some rest and recovery.
As Vanzano began to regain consciousness, he could not tell where he was, nor could he distinguish the blurred figures. as he stirred, Maho laid a hand on him and patted him soothingly.

meanwhile, Commander Nguyen looked on disapprovingly

OOC: sank u mike

"Where am I?", muttered Vanzano in broken english. His native langauge is Italian but learning English has been strongly encouraged by King Umberto. He spoke it very well, especially since his eduaction was not of the best quality. However the long journey took quite a heavy toll on him.

He looked up and saw Maho's face. He was mystified by her look, never had he laid eyes upon an Islandian before. He was curious, yet at the same time he realized her pristine beauty. Her gentle hand lay on him in a soothing motion.

"Do you speak English?", he asked. He knew that langauge was far more common.

the words streamed through Maho's mind quickly. Her father, a merchant, had taught her several languages as a child, and now she recalled that this was one of them, a tongue the users called "English," after an island that was faraway, on the other side of the world, known for its rugged terrain and foggy clime.

She spoke slowly, in a lilting voice, but as best as she could remember.
"Yes, I do," she replied. "Who are you?"

He coughed heavily and smiled back at her. he was about to speak, but was cut off by the sound of rustling as Commander Nguyen lifted the curtain and stepped outside, followed by the doctor. Maho smiled at Nguyen as he turned to face her, and mouthed a silent "Arigatou (thank you, in japanese) before he left. Nguyen shrugged and smiled back, and the doctor waved as he left.

Maho turned to face him now, alone. Protocol dictated that new arrivals on Islandian ships, especially those rescued, were to have their identities hidden from the outside world, limited to the crew. after their rescue, they were to be treated with respect, and given the benefit of the doubt, as they were supposed to be honored guests. unless provoked, Islandian crews were quite hospitable, and often went out of their way to accommodate their "guests," yet not always returning them home out of a sense of impraticality.

"I am Biagio, Biagio Vanzano of Agrigento. It is very far from here. Now who are you?", he asked. Her eyes were friendly and it gave him great comfort to look into them.

Maho smiled back. "I am Oh-mu-ra M-a-h-o of... Islandia Navy warship. I am captain. Islandia is far away, and very..." her eyes frowned as she tried to make the words in her mind.. "distant. We were on... trip to place called Fort As-h, but we were lost. Sep-ar-ated."

Maho paused for a moment and offered him a kool glass of iced tea, a common drink aboard Islandian ships. Biagio drank thirstily and thrust it back at her for more. she refilled his cup and he drank again, and it was a while before either spoke.

"Why are you separated from fellow cou-ntry-men?" Maho asked.

"Well, M-a-h-o", he started slowly, "I was in the Agrigentian Army, we came here to this place Gallaga and my commanding officer told me to do some very evil things, I refused and they arrested me. I escaped and have been on the run ever since. Understand?", he finished.

(ooc: Goodnight Will, we'll continue this tom. night I suppose.)

Outside, Nguyen rested his head on the wall. the doctor sat next to him, a pitcher of iced tea on his lap. the two of them drank slowly, and Nguyen thought about his words carefully.
"our captain seems to be infatuated with our guest," he said in Vietnamese, disdainfully.
the doctor smiled. "I'm sure it's nothing, Commander. She's probably just curious," he replied in Vietnamese.
"I'm not so sure about that," he said softly, almost so softly that the doctor didnt hear.

(I believe Weathers has left with Daniel and Xeca, though you may find favor with other officers of the Army Corps. Lord Fischer - a man with little formal matial training - is quickly finding disfavor with the majority of the professional soldiers. And, yes, there is a good deal of sexism in Iansislean society, both in historical and modern times. I don't agree with it ooc, but it's needed to maintain the ic flavor of the country.)

A Gallagan enlisted man looked up at the sudden arrivals. His eyes grew, and he shouted out in Gallagan. Those around him followed his outstreched finger, and soon the air was filled with excited talking. Senior Iansislean officers, NCOs, and enlisten men came running, concerned about another disturbance among the already shaky native troops. They were under a tight deadline to march for Tejasm's capital, and the Gallagans had to be ready. A young captain, whose nametag read 'Conrad', was the highest ranking officer on the scene.

OOC: thanx for the hook ;o) ... I don't think anyone :roll: would hold you accountable for 18th century sexism ... :wink: well anyway, I won't lol

IC: First Knight Lieutenant Torak was a powerfully built man, dark hair, dark amber coloured eyes, and the equally deep amber coloured skin of the Southern Provinces of his Empire.

His imposing height, impassive face and indeterminate years made him the perfect emissary - until one could accurately determine his rank and status, one would be very unlikely to casually give offence; he did not look too young and therefore potentially inexperienced, nor too old and therefore potentially helpless or feeble. He had been chosen for this difficult task because of his skill in diplomacy, tact, ability with languages, martial prowess, and his uncanny ability to read people.

He had carefully arranged his troops so that the wymyn - as generally indistinguishable from their male comrades as they were - were less obvious to a casual observer ... he approached the centre of the parade ground slowly, but deliberately. The air of martial competence that the Imperial Knights Lieutenant and their Night Winds allies radiated, put many of the troops on the ground very ill at ease ... in his experience, nervous soldiers responded with fear, and that generally led to fatalities.

Torak spoke very quietly to his people in their native Imperial Shur'bat ... they could not alter their uncanny resemblance to a well fed pack of wolves, but they subtly changed their body language and held their hands at a more friendly angle ... away from their obvious weapons ... and Torak was gratified to see a corresponding shift in the wariness of the Iansisles troops ... and a strange respect in the eyes of several of the native Gallagan soldiers. He filed that information away; he was pleased to note that his senior officers - Second Knight Lieutenant Shaya, slightly behind him and to his left, and Third Knight Lieutenant Ishmael in the corresponding position to his right - where taking in every nuance of every person within their lines of sight and every Talent available to them. There would not be a single detail of the parade ground and every single individual on it, that would escape his eventual attention ... and that did not even encompass the more ... esoteric ... abilities and senses of the Clansmen.

He allowed his attention to focus on the individual directly in front of him. He made the necessary mental shift and read the man's insignia and name.

Without perceptible sign or communication, the entire squad stopped in formation and within a comfortable and non-threatening distance from the man Conrad. Again, without any outward signal or instruction, the entire unit, as a single entity, stood at ease.

Torak kept his amusement to himself … this particular Talent of Imperial and allied troops, always made other soldiers nervous … and with good cause … any soldier worth his uniform saw a display like this and automatically calculated what he would be facing if he saw this kind of discipline or connexion across a battle field. It was always a memorable lesson.

Torak inclined his head in a shallow bow, he did not salute, military protocol was a cagey beast, and rank did not always translate adequately ... better too reserved a greeting than an overly animated one.

"Captain Conrad," the harried young man stared slightly at Torak's slightly accented Iansislean, "I am First Knight Lieutenant Torak, Commander and Envoy of this delegation from the Empire of Spirit and Mist." He repeated himself in Gallagan, to ensure that there was no room for misunderstanding. Conrad heroically maintained control and a cool head, Torak's estimation of the Iansislean grew.

"First Knight Lieutenant Torak?" the young Captain seemed uncertain of the unfamiliar rank, he also seemed relieved at the absence of the popinjay Fischer, for his eyes darted briefly at the disappearing back of his disgraceful Lord. Torak, decided to assist the Captain in this obviously awkward situation.

"Commander Torak is a sufficient title, Sir. I am seeking accommodation for my command ... and am hoping that you may be able to pass on the news of our arrival to the appropriate authority." He nodded slightly in the direction of the long gone Fischer, "I would not wish to offend the proper chain of command ...' and allowed his eyes to take in the disconcerted and nervous troops on the parade ground, "nor do we wish to cause any ... unfortunate ... incidents between us, before our great Nations have been formally introduced."

Maho inclined her head slightly, thinking about the words of Vanzano. It appeared that he was a deserter of some sort, probably because his morals and that of his commanding officer didnt happen to coincide. she sighed. That fact may resurface to haunt her and her command later on, and even the fact that "guests" on Islandian warships were to have their identities hidden (as long as they were not hostile) might not be enough to keep everyone out of the way of Vanzano's enemy.

Maho put such thoughts aside and arranged the covers over Vanzano.
"We will keep you aboard," she said. "As guest. And we will try to hide you from dan-ger. Sleep now, and re-cov-er quickly, Bia-gi-o."
Vanzano nodded his thanks and drifted off to sleep.
Maho stood there for a moment, looking down at him, before she drifted out the door silently, like a wraith.

Outside, Nguyen and the Doctor were still drinking. They had nothing better to do, and since both of them were off duty, single, and had no other life (there really was little to do aboard a war junk), they sat there, drinking. By now, Nguyen had forgotten his former grievances and was merry, if a bit drunk. After all, the iced tea had fermented, and the two of them had drunk enough for an entire company of Marines already.

A few minutes later, the two of them were passed out, lying on the floor and not caring a whit about the world around them. Maho sighed in exasperation, and called for a few Marines to drag them away to their quarters. in other words, bitch duty.

No one knew exactly how the hell they were going to survive this one.

Wang looked over the town of Fort Ash, alight in gunfire and swarming with his pirates. Too bad there were only ten people, he thought. He and his men could have used some fresh, virgin females after some long, lonely months. he grinned. Being a pirate was a harsh life, but he liked being in control of his own destiny. besides, if he ever was caught and put on trial, no one would believe the charges. Wang Tienchou? victor of twenty different battles and countless campaigns for the Empire, a traitor? he shook his head. no one would even suspect him, not for a second.

he watched as his infantry swarmed into the town, searching for prisoners. he frowned when word returned that no one was in sight.

before long, however, cannon fire began to dot the night sky as four hundred junks of the "Three Jeweled Raj" began to slug it out with the two hundred war junks of the Islandian Navy. Wang smiled. They had won last time because they were outnumbered by less than two times. now, they faced Four hundred. no flotilla could win.
and then, perhaps he would get revenge on An for cutting his hand off the last time they met. and for stealing Kotoko from him.

the battle was desperate. the pirate junks just kept coming, no matter how many of their comrades were blown out of the water, sailing into the Islandian fire almost recklessly.
But what if it was a diversion? Like last time? An wondered. The last time the navies of Islandia and the THree Jeweled Raj had clashed, Wang had tried to flank the flotilla.

Dai groaned in frustration. He already had ten ships sunk or disabled, among them Typhoon, which was taking heavy damage from three enemy ships, East Current, a supply ship, which was being knocked around by two fast junks, and Divine Mandate, a sixty gun junk taking on four ships at a time and doing well until two other ships popped up.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dai saw the Sakura Wind sail towards the Divine Mandate, followed by Crimson Thunder and Rugola Wind, both heavy junks.

THe Sakura Wind and its two following ships immediately began a rocket barrage, shooting out heavy rockets in a crisscross pattern, covering each other and almost all possible angles. The rockets detonated against all of
enemy junks loudly, and soon, most were afire. It took another salvo from Divine Mandate to set the last two on fire, and before long, they were moving on to the next ships.

Dai smacked his forehead in frustration. That was it! High Commissioner An, aboard Sakura Wind, had undoubtedly rigged those glass warhead rockets with some flammable substance, equipping the missile with a proxy fuse which was set off as soon as the rocket was launched. Seconds after the warhead would slam into the deck of the ship, the material would be splattered, and the fuse would light the oil in a huge flame.

"RIG FOR INCENDIARIES!" Dai shouted. "SIGNAL TO FLEET!! INCENDIARIES AND FIRE ROCKETS! EAST WIND!"

East Wind was the trademark maneuver of theIslandians. THe ships would fight their way out of an encirclement, led by fast junks and medium frigates, and slowly push the enemies together, dousing them with fiery substances and shattering the enemy through sustained fire, since rockets were farther reaching than cannons and since the war junks were able to take massive punishment. this tactic had allowed the Islandian Navy to destroy massive enemy fleets before, and was a very difficult maneuver to counter; An had used a modified version of East Wind on Wang's fleet before, and it had worked brilliantly.

Aboard the Sakura Wind, An shouted in surprise. he should have known that Dai would have executed East Wind, but he had not anticipated that it would be so soon. He shouted orders to Captain Takeshi, who quickly brushed long strands of dark brown hair out of her face and began shouting orders, her normally mild manner and beauty belied by her words.

An sighed. He prayed that they would listen to what he had to say; Dai was known for being stubborn, but An hoped that for once, the bastard would listen.

Wang smiled ruthlessly. That idiot Dai had reacted exactly the way he expected him to; how could a young, incumbent Admiral like him fathom the ways of his enemy in a split second? As Sun Tzu said, "If you do not know your enemy and yourself, than you will lose a hundred of a hundred battles." There would not be a hundred battles, but one was enough to end anyone's life. Now, if only they would stay this way, then his forces would be able to-

but then, a fast junk wheeled around and immediately shot off four rockets, two green, one blue and one orange. Wang cursed. That had to An's flagship; his men had not been able to kill the bastard, and he was known for getting out of some of the tightest fixes. What luck.

No. His mentor, the legendary Admiral Kim Shin-so, victor of a thousand battles (yes, he did count) had told him thousands of times: "Luck does not exist, only resilience, preparation, and courage. Expect ANYTHING."

Thank you for that, Admiral Kim, Wang thought. What would the old veteran think of him now, commanding fleets against the very Empire that the both of them had bled and had their comrades die for?

"Wheel around!" he yelled to his captain. To his starboard, Bloody Sky and Terror Wake followed, both sixty gun junks, and began the flanking maneuver designed to thwart East Wind. If An would not succeed first.

This is for you, Kotoko, Wang thought bitterly. Wait for me in Heaven.

He first met Artillery Officer Kanagawa Kotoko aboard East Rain, the flagship of Admiral Kim Shin-so. He was a navigator then, only twenty six and had recently transferred from a position aboard the Dark Thunder, a forty gun junk that was crippled in a battle in the Coral Sea. Half the crew was killed, and it was only due to the actions of Navigator Second Rank Wang that the ship had ever found its way out of the then-uncharted morass that was the Coral Sea. Impressed, Admiral Kim himself had asked for the transfer of Navigator First Rank Wang Tienchou to the East Rain.

Kotoko was beautiful, and undoubtedly a pioneer. At that time, female officers were as common as the rare spikefish which roamed the Lotus Sea, and many had reservations about them. Still, Admiral Kim had lent them his support, and as a result, a handful of females were accepted into the Naval officer training school. Kotoko had distinguished herself by concieving of the famous "Dragon Breath" maneuver, when during one battle, she took out four ships at once with a handful of incendiary rockets.

Dragon Lieutenant An Waichu was serving aboard the East Rain too. Assigned in command of fleet coordination, his flair for command and ingenuity was obvious, even as a junior officer.

The three of them had known of each other, but after being brought together on the same assignment, befriended each other and began a lasting friendship. Only, for Wang and Kotoko, it became something more. Several years later, Kotoko was pregnant with Wang's young son, and soon gave birth to a fast thinking, clever boy. By then, Wang had been put in command of Argent Dagger, and he and his crew were already famous for their trademark daring and victories, which invigorated a demoralized nation.

But that all changed when Argent Dagger, Dragon Wake, and Fiery Cloud, all sixty gun junks, were ambushed by a Separatist patrol. A "patrol" of twenty forty gun junks.

An had assured them that there was no danger, nothign to fear. in the space of four minutes, Kotoko had sustained heavy injuries, and she only had hours to live. Their boy was safe, at home in Erdana, miles away from the destruction, and away from the hellishness of it all.

it was over four hours later. The FIery Cloud, commanded by Captain Chang, was sunk, with all hands lost after Chang heroically rammed two of the Separatist vessels to allow them to get away, and set off his gunpowder magazine afterwards.

Many good people had died that day, especially Kotoko. Her eyes had stopped looking and her body became lifeless. Yet that was only the beginning.

After the Empress took power, all of the old guard were punished. Even Wang, who was about as much of an "old timer" as An was. Demoted to Captain, from Typhoon Commander, Wang, embittered, gathered a crack crew that was of the same sympathies, took his son,and left. He and his crew, including his son, swore to fight the Empire, and fight they did.

Now, resilient Wang Tiao was dead, killed by shrapnel, slowly, much as his mother was. Half his original comrades were gone, and he was sure that the newcomers plotted behind his back.

No matter. Wang would get his revenge soon, and he would kill An, no matter what it took. For killing Kotoko. For allowing his men to fall into ambushes time after time. For abandoning him in the face of a vicious, feministic Empress.

Some friend, Wang thought bitterly.

Cannon and musket fire filled the air around Fort Ash as Chalms attempted to calm his men.

"Don't lose your heads, and you'll make it through this," he whispered. "We've just got to get to Southern Star, and we can escape back to New Shield." Chalms glanced at the Islandian in command. "I say, we've got to make it back to our ship, the Star."
______________________

Conrad smiled, somewhat weakly, at the new arrivals. Spirit and Mist? Who're they? He was hardly a diplomat, by any stretch of the imagination. He returned Torak's bow with a quick salute, right fingers grazing his temple, palm open and facing Torak. He still wasn't sure where such a large, armed party had come from, but it hardly seemed to matter.

"Ah, welcome to New Shield, sah. I'm Cap...well, you already seem to know that, anyhow. I must say, your arrival catches us at a rather awkward time, Commander. May I ask, you seem to know a good deal about us, by my personal knowledge of your, ah, country seems rather lacking..." Conrad trailed off, his question remaining implicit.

Zhang looked at Chalms strangely, then looked back at the situation on shore. it was all he needed to bark at his men and get them to start paddling towards the foreign ship anchored not too far offshore.

"Of all the places we need to anchor," he mumbled in Islandian, a high pitched language that sounded like a mix of Polynesian, Chinese, and Japanese. "These guys dont even have enough troops to garrison this place. It's like it's tucked away from the sight of everyone."

Fire Corporal Vuong pushed Chalms out of the way and quickly took a potshot at a nearby pirate, hitting him square in the chest. Zhang smacked Vuong and told him to start paddling or they'd all be dead. He turned to Chalms and shrugged helplessly. Maybe Sakura Wind or one of the fast junks would come by to pick them up later.
**********

Aboard the Sakura Wind, Captain Takeshi was in a bit of a fix. Actually, that was understating the problem. High Commissioner An clearly outranked Admiral Dai, but her loyalty was to the Admiral. Sure, An was a good enough man, but she was still under Dai's command.
"I dont know if i can do that, Commissioner," she replied, as courteously as she could.
"DO IT DAMMIT!" he yelled. "I AM THE RANKING OFFICER IN THE FLOTILLA AND I HAVE THE MOST EXPERIENCE!"
Takeshi sighed and began shouting out orders, as per his instructions. She hoped that she wouldnt be in trouble for this, and she hoped that Maho was alright. She hadnt seen Silver Willow in weeks, and she had said as such to Admiral Dai, who told her they would have to look another time.
Still, she feared for Maho. The girl was good in combat, but that was about it; she relied on her first officer for a lot, and she was learning too slowly, taking a while to adapt to everyday routines. She simply lived off stress and a rush of excitement, and it seemed she wasnt at home anywhere that wasnt the battlefield.

"hard to starboard!" Ichigo yelled at her helmsman. "Bring rockets to bear! Rig for high explosive and penetration!"
"Rocket trajectories calculated," Artillery Officer Thian announced. "Error is about one to four, but if we time it right, we can hit all their ships."
"you have command, Artillery Officer," Ichigo announced. "Make sure you hit them-ALL."

Minutes later, twenty contrails erupted from either side of the ship, two at a time, slamming into ten enemy junks as the Sakura Wind quickly sailed by. All were sunk, but there was a problem; the enemy simply wouldnt stop coming.

This is not a good way to die, Ichigo thought as she pushed her hair back and examined the situation.

HIMS Southern Star

First Lieutenant Herbert James didn't like the captain being away in all this mess. The deck of the small frigate was littered with men, officers screaming themselves hoarse to try and restore discipline in the stewing mess. He turned to Second Lieutenant Howard Baden.

"As of now, I'm assuming command of the Star. We have to get out of here - I want the anchor weighed. We'll sail while the wind is still with us. Prepare the sail crews to execute a starboard tack."

Baden stared as his superior officer. "Sir, with all due respect, Captain Chalms is still ashore. We must ensure the safety of a crown officer..."

"Mr. Baden," replied James, his steely voice stopping Baden cold, "My first priority is to save this ship, and with it Iansislean naval presence in the Bay of Bengal. We will sail north for New Shield. Now get to your duty, man, before I have you flogged for disobedience."

Baden gulped. "Yes, sir, Mr. James!" He turned and issued orders to the sail crews, watching junior officers and midshipmen scurry to carry them out. Ponderously, the 28 gun, single deck frigate came about, catching the wind blowing from inland halfway through. She started to move north, away from the fighting and her captain.

Wang grimaced. he had expected the Iansisleans to run, but he had not expected the Islandian junks to put up such a fight. Right now, he was behind schedule, although he was somewhat confident that the Islandian flotilla would be annihilated, if not now, then later.

Captain Zu of the Jagged Dagger brought about his ship to starboard, cutting off the Southern Star. To the side, two other heavy junks, Pulse and Death Wind, both forty guns, sailed into position to rake the Star. Boarders prepared their weapons, broadswords, muskets, and pistols, and watched the Star with baited breath, awaiting the order to swing over.

HIMS Southern Star

The easterly wind caught the Star, pushing her up to a decent speed as sailors quickly reigned in sail to bring her about north. Lieutenant James noticed the two pirate junks manouvering north to engage him. He called down to the gunnery crew manning the dozen 32 pounder carronades and ten top deck 18 pounder long guns, telling them to prepare to blast the leading junk - the carronades with ball and the long guns with chain - as it came into range. Similar orders were relayed to the eighteen 24 pounders below deck. Shipboard marines scurried into the aft-more riggings, getting ready to snipe with their long muskets as the junk came into range, while others drew sabers for a more conventional shipboard defense.

Wang smiled. Victory was within reach; already, the Islandian flotilla was down by thirty ships, sunk and disabled, while his junks had taken negligible casualties, about sixty or so, out of four hundred. Soon, he would take them, and revenge, ever so sweet, would be his.

"AT 'EM BOYS!" Zu shouted, as the Jagged Dagger and her escorts poured fire into the enemy ship. "KEEP AT 'EM!"

Pirates swarmed over the masts, swinging over onto the ships as soon as the two large boats were in range. grapeshot, canister, and shrapnel wreaked havoc all around them, and none was the wiser.

(whew, sorry for the delay- distractions in NS and out of it. A lot going on! I feel out of the loop- is there and Islandian fleet off Ceyloba? And is someone drinking ice/d tea? We should very much like to know how you aquire the ice! Mountains, is it?
I can't believe 'Tinkerer' Durnford's about to meet Starsky and Hutch!)

The WTM, Vollombo, Ceyloba.

A bugle announces the return of the yatch party, and arrival of the Calarcan guests.

The gates at the north end of the east wall open (much more civilised than jumping over the lower southern end ;) ), and the party enters -Calarcan's on Walmingtonian soil for the first time. (And oh my god, look at the size of the spider! Get off my speaker! aah!)

The scene is littered with Ceyloban labourers stacking Ceyloban corpses against walls, and of Walmingtonian Royal Marines on roll call.

"Barrows!" Booms the mission's second corporal.
"Adsum" struggles a meek and weary reply.
"Jones!"
"Adsum"
"Hitch! ...HITCH!... I know you're alive, I've seen you!"
"..Oh, am I? ..Thank you!"

The party advances into the courtyard, and Durnford can be seen hurrying down from a flight of steps against the two level building at the west wall, and on to meet them.

"See any activity from our friend the prince and his lot on the way in, corporal?"

"They've hooked it! All ov 'em!" chimed in a rather satisfied marine from behind the corporal.

At about that moment, and before anyone could put the youngster in his place, the mounted troops returned to the mission, a few with spatters of blood evident on their sabers, boots, and horses.

"Mr.Durnford, Sir!" hailed a man from across the courtyard where the horsemen dismounted about the infirmary "Patrol 'as come back, Ceylobans have all gone, all of 'em! It's a miracle!"

-the voice came painfully forth from the heavily bandaged and bloody -and none the less hairy- visage of one Mr.Brent.

"If it's a miracle, Colour Sergeant, it's a long barrel Durnford Ceyloba Pattern point seven-two calibre miracle!" came the first Corporal's satisfied reply.

"And a bayonet Sir, with some guts behind it." was the Captain's take, him not wanting to steal the credit from his men, through his inventions.

Aware of the extended nature of his banter, Durnford turned his attentions to his guests, saluting and introducing himself.

"To whom do we owe the pleasure of any of the sleep we may attain to-night?" he asked, in reference to the respite bought by Calarcan cannons.





(cookie to whoever guesses which film/s I've been watching too often..for the past decade and some :) )

The Second Royal Fleet had come to the final leg its journey. Due to recent rebel attacks as well as an expected reaction from Punjab reinforcements were called from Agrigento. The large fleet was arguably the strongest in all of the Eastern Azores' Northern Continent (as Islandia was not yet explored). Its deadliness was inproportionate to its size. Only 68 capitol ships and several smaller support craft but it was still ferocious in all forms of naval combat. Its was composed of 31 Fire Ships, 21 thirty gun frigates, 12 forty gun frigates and 4 sixty gun frigates. The amount of frigates were mediocre as were their relative firepower however the bulk of the fleets offensive power came from the highly coveted Greek Fire employed by the 31 Fire Ships. Flames wreak havoc on enemy ships and Greek Fire created a veritable hell on board any. Wooden hulls, and cloth sails created flames so high that soon the enemy's own ordinance would explode and create massive damage. The flagship RSS Uragano was a sixty gun Frigate, and the most powerful, non greek fire employing, ship in the fleet.

(Greek Fire, as employed by the ancients, was more deadly then even modern Napalm, our closest attempt to recreate it.)
________________________________

RSS Uragano
Outside of Karachi Harbor

Commodore Giuseppe Testarossa walked across the deck of his ship. It was remarkable to him that in all its grandiuer the two Fire ships that flanked him would prove more deadly in battle than his own. His carried men though, enough soldiers to secure the rest of Sind for a long, long time. Those fire ships would be useless against enemies ashore, and those ships would just as soon, if left alone, fall from coastal fortifications that one salvo from his would utterly destroy. Most men who command conventional ships in the fleet would feel jealous or sometimes forsaken by their superiors, but not Giuseppe. Every link in the chain was important, and he knew that. The fact was that he felt lucky. His ship did not have to close to intimate ranges to discharge his weaponry, and not only did he have command of one ship but the entire fleet. The secondary weapons of Fire ships were, ineffective to say the least. If their main weapon was crippled or malfunctioning in anyway he knew those fire ships were doomed. All of these thoughts were cycling through his head as he looked at the proud sailors going about their business on the busy deck.

Around 2:00 am the ships arrived in Karachi harbor, greeted by three frigates of already emplaced garrision. They fired their honorary salvo into the air and the men on deck saluted the incoming fleet.

OOC: (whew a lot of ships showing up around here, England at the height of the Napoleanic War only had 300 Ships with more than 20 guns. Also I presume the Ianislans don't count Carronades in the final Gunnage total. My 22 gun frigates have 20 long guns and 2 carronades, a Ianislian 28 gun seems to have 28 long guns and 12 Carronades.)

Ceyloba

"A series of Calarcian Shipbuilding Company, Armaments division, Royal pattern miracles." replied Starsky with a twinkle in his eye.

"Courtesy of the Royal Calarcian navy ship Admiral Coney out of Gasgage, further north up the coast." Continued Hutch.

"I'm Lieutenant Starsky and the middie with me is Hutch. Our ship is here on a charting and exploration mission to see what can be seen of this country. Would you like me to signal to the ship and ask for the ships surgeon to be sent ashore? I Believe he is bored of splinting broken bones from falls and would enjoy a good gory mess to sew up, I'm afraid he's a bit strange that way, he's a good sawbones however."

(I only have about 75 ships in total around here. East and West Islandia combined has over 500 I think!)

(eep, sorry if that's rather unrealistic. Most of the era web sites I visited said carronades were not listed in the gun total, and that medium to good sized frigates usually carried around a dozen. Again, sorry if that's incorrect - any misleading or false information will, of course, be edited out.

And we have our one 28 gunner here, and our 50 gun 4th rater and 12 gun sloop at Fort Manly. Hardly an imposing naval presence what with all the numbers being thrown around here. :) )

"Fire!" boomed the voice of Fourth Lieutenant Harry O'Donoghue from below decks, and the Star shook as a full starboard broadside - five 18 pounders, six 32 pound carronades, and nine 24 pounders was unleashed at the leading junk. The Star was still picking up speed and reloading when the first junk slammed alongside her. Although the carronade and 18 pounder crews were quickly overwhelmed - some were killed, and some cut and run - the 24 pounder crews below decks had time to prepare one last broadside, firing ball shot into the side of the junk at point blank range.

On deck, Royal Marines grappled with pirates, while long-musket men sniped at those who looked to be in charge on the enemy ship. Musket fire quickly gave way to pistol shots, which gave way to desperate hand to hand combat as the Star's marines and crew were forced back foot by bloody foot towards the fore and aft castles.

The USS Constitution, one of America's first Frigates was commished in Jun 1798. It had:
32 - 24-pounder long guns;
20 - 32-pounder carronades;
2 - 24-pounder bow chasers.

It was a very successful ship and had superior firepower than most others at the time. Iansisle I don't think you are going overboard with the 12 Caraonades.

It was considered a 44 gun frigate. So the Carronades do count to the total usually but this is RP so it really depends on whatever your navy chooses.

(heh, I actually have a framed drawing of the Constitution hanging in my room - along with several other ships. I used to know quite a bit about tall ships...where'd all of it go? :))

OOC: Most frigates in 1750 were not larger than 32 guns, abover that was a small line of battleship, it wasn't until about 1765 that 36-48 gun frigates arrived, I think. 22 guns is a light frigate, and 28 guns was about average. but in NS, you caould have a 2000 gun battleship and all we caould do is scream godmod, unless you proved the physics, then we couldn't even do that, but face it, it's sail like a beached whale and everyone else could dodge around it.

IC:
Fort Ash

"Attack!" came the call from the decks and lookouts.

The Captains response once aboard was simple. "Let slip the cable, All hands to general quarters, Load Shell!"

In a short period the ship was close hauled before the wind beating out to sea with all guns run out. Captain (damn I've forgotten his name!) was peering at the enemy junks closing in as they came about from a tack,
"Hmm.. they look to be made like the Cathay junks, thin shells with strakes, I wonder what effect shell will have."

In each gun there sat a hollow steel ball with a unlit fuze pointing out to the enemy, upon firing the flames from the exploding gunowder behind the ball push around and light the fuze, which is cut to explode after a set time corresponding to the distance travelled. In this case, 1000 Yards.

An enemy junk was seen bearing down on them, and the order was passed down to the guncrews, "Fire as you bear!" causing a ripple of flames to spout down the side of the ship as each gun fired. Of the 8 long guns on the port side, 2 missed, 1 shot bounced of the hull, 2 penetrated, 2 went through gun ports, and 1 struck the mast and rebounded to sit fizzing and hissing on the deck.

Captain (Someone) of the [i]Ineffable[/] grinned as he heard the muffled bursts of the shells exploding in the junks crowded gun deck, and saw the flash of the deck shell explode, Knowing the sheer carnage caused by the exploding shells, surely they'd be to busy dying to notice the fires caused by the sparks of the explosion.

OOC: Most frigates in 1750 were not larger than 32 guns, abover that was a small line of battleship, it wasn't until about 1765 that 36-48 gun frigates arrived, I think. 22 guns is a light frigate, and 28 guns was about average. but in NS, you caould have a 2000 gun battleship and all we caould do is scream godmod, unless you proved the physics, then we couldn't even do that, but face it, it's sail like a beached whale and everyone else could dodge around it.

(I can certainly cut down the carronades, to six or four if you think it'd be more realistic. I'm trying to look on this as a learning experiance about a period that facinates me, and any insight you may have is most welcome. I don't think I'll include the carronades in the final gun totals, though, because of their minimal range and well...I don't really want to ;))

OOC: Most frigates in 1750 were not larger than 32 guns, abover that was a small line of battleship, it wasn't until about 1765 that 36-48 gun frigates arrived, I think. 22 guns is a light frigate, and 28 guns was about average. but in NS, you caould have a 2000 gun battleship and all we caould do is scream godmod, unless you proved the physics, then we couldn't even do that, but face it, it's sail like a beached whale and everyone else could dodge around it.

(I can certainly cut down the carronades, to six or four if you think it'd be more realistic. I'm trying to look on this as a learning experiance about a period that facinates me, and any insight you may have is most welcome. I don't think I'll include the carronades in the final gun totals, though, because of their minimal range and well...I don't really want to ;))
(entirely OOC)
2 to 4 Carronandes each side on the raised Quarterdeck to the rear (4 to 8 in all), main guns on the main deck below, and bowchasers on the foredeck, sternchasers in the captains rear cabin which stretches across the entire back was the usual way, more guns in enclosed decks below if you have a bigger multidecker. normally you don't have fixed bowchasers on a ship under 24 to 28 guns, instead the fore pair of the upperdeck broadsidecan be run back and turned to fire out of holes in the bow. I prefer fixed bowchasers tho. you can replace main guns on any deck with carronades, and this was common practice on some main line of battle fleets, some british 64 gunners had 48 pound Carronades and nothing else, they can be reloaded 3 times for every 2 for a long gun, and fire a larger ball for the same weight of gun, so a 64 gunner could beat a 84 gunner with 32 pounders into submission, and face it, in line of battle, they're close enough for carronades. on a frigate however, very few carronades are carried since they rely on manuverability and spped to chase down other ships and need to take down a fleeing enemies mast at long ranges. Frigate carronade weapons are simply for canister and grape throwing at enemy boarding parties before they get close enough to climb aboard.

6 would be sufficient. 3 per side on the quarterdeck. a 36 gunner could have about 8, and a 44 gunner, maybe 10. abover that you'd need to be replacing main guns.

An sighed in relief. The battle wasnt going as bad as he expected, especially since the enemy seemed to have made enemies out of the Calarcans and the Iansisleans in the process. They were lucky that Fate had brought them all together, and especially that Wang had overplayed his hand.

What could possibly be the reason for his homicidal rage? True, faulted intelligence and flawed planning had led to Kanagawa's death, but she had not blamed anyone for it, unlike her husband. And even then, Wang knew the risks of the trade; being a sailor was dangerous, period. He should have taken in account the fact that Kotoko would have died, as she did serve aboard a combat vessel and was an artillery officer, who was a valuable target for snipers, if not for cannonballs and larger projectiles. STill, no one could deny that Wang had suffered injustly; he was demoted wrongly, and against the grievances of many; An was out in the Lotus Sea, commanding Dragon Wake, when the hearings for the demotion began. According to sources, all agreed that the hearings were unfair and staged.

Still, was that enough for him to turn his back on the East Banner Dragon Fleet? To betray everything, everyone that he had known?

"Sir, Tantamount Discord is taking heavy damage. They request a change of command to Sakura Wind," Takeshi reported.
"Do it, Ichigo," An shouted. "But make it fast."

All around them now, junks were sinking by the tens, enemy and ally alike. Dai quickly jumped aboard, followed by his staff.

"took you long enough," he snapped to Ichigo, who turned bright crimson.
'Now is not the time, Admiral," An barked, positioning himself between Ichigo and Dai. "You need to rally the fleet and outflank them."
"How would you know of this?" Dai asked skeptically.
"Because i fought against them before!!!" An roared. "NOW OBEY MY ORDERS!"
Dai turned pink, but he obeyed and began to shout out orders.
An sighed, and turned to face Ichigo, who was only gradually fading back to her normal color.
"Dont worry, Captain Takeshi," An said. "I will see to it that you get a commendation for bravery and skill when we return."
She smiled radiantly and thanked him.
"If we return," he reminded her.

(Barely imporatant, but noticing that Ceyloba is 74255th safest place on earth, I think I need to hold a few more riots, eh? Walmington sure can pick its colonies :? )

Wang smiled triumphantly. His ship was now held fast to the Sakura Wind, flagship of An, and his men were already leaping over the side and swinging onto the deck of the smaller junk.
As Wang stepped onto Sakura Wind, his own ship sank, but it did not matter; all that was important now was that An would be killed. he did not even notice the gasps of the men all around him when they realized that their enemy, the fabled Three Jeweled Raj, was Captain Wang Tienchou, formerly of the East Banner Dragon Fleet. They hesitated, weapons raised in midair. Hesitated until Wang cut down another sailor and kicked Captain Takeshi aside brutally as she attempted to stand between him and An. he stomped on her, elicting a feminine cry of pain, and stood, toe to toe with An Waichu.

The two adversaries stared face to face, unnoticing of the carnage all around them, as Wangs belaugered pirates fought and died quickly. Wang shook his head and whipped out his broadsword, slashing at An, who ducked nimbly under him before drawing a two handed saber favored by infantry forces. they fought fiercely, savagely, blows resounding off each other, sparks flying, blades probing, seeking a weakness in the other man's guard, heedless of the sudden halt in fighting all around them. No sailors intervened, as they understood that this was a personal matter; besides, if An was killed, they would take out Wang immediately.

Finally, after what seemed to be aneterenity, An slipped past Wang's guard and stabbed him through the heart. Wang looked up in disbelief, and swung again, desperately, although An leaped out of the way. His broadsword clattered to the deck, and he fell, face first. An bent beside him, and for a moment, the adversaries were friends again.

"It has been long," Wang said. "Long and cold without Kotoko, dark and sad without my son. But that is besides the point; here i am, faced with the killer of them both, and i can do nothing."
"I didnt kill her," An said. "The separatists did. And i was away when you were demoted, and i could do nothign to restore you to your rightful place."
Wang shook his head. "This i might have known all along, but now it pleases me to hear it from you. I can die in peace now, knowing that only i can be blamed for my misdeeds."
An shook his head, tears slipping out of his eyes. "Why didn't you ask me? i would have done anything for you, friend, anything to avoid this."
Wang sighed and laid his head back. "I do not know. It is nothing now, as i will soon be. I have killed too many of my former comrades, and i will recieve a reckoning in the afterlife; still, i only wish i had Kotoko with me now."
An was left, alone on the deck as Wang died. Wang Tienchou, the great sailor, half legend, half myth, passed into the afterlife as quickly as he had rose to fame and as quickly as he had fallen from grace.

The junks had retreated now; with the death of their reluctant leader, they had lost heart, and left behind a hundred shattered junks and thousands of bodies. the Calarcan, Islandian, and Iansislean survivors cheered with an intensity unseen except in victory, the sure feeling of having escaped from death; at least for now. now, the difficulty was getting back to normal life.

(thanks for the info, Calarca. I'm going to reduce the Star's carronade to six.

WoS, at least it's better than Iansisle ;) )

The Star beleagured marines cheered as the pirates fell back, fighting hard, to their junk, leaving the deck a bloody mess. It was all Captain Chalms could do to keep from jumping overboard to rejoin his ship.

An helped Ichigo up slowly, minding her injuries, and set her against a bulkhead. All around him, the survivors were gathering themselves up, cleaning up the blood off the decks, and taking the wounded belowdecks. the dead were hauled off to jars, labeled, and packaged away until they had a chance to return; those who perished in the water were lit on fire, their bodies cremated as their comrades lit incense and bowed deeply.

Captain Wei sighed. Tantamount Discord was heavily damaged, and he knew it would not be the last anyone would see of Wang's fleets, minus the turncoat, who had died fighting against An. He shook his head and turned to see Zhang and his Marines returning after ferrying Captain Chalms back to the Southern Star, which was, fortunately, free from SERIOUS damage.

He nodded, content. They were one big happy family again. Or at least he thought so until Zhang pitched a rock at Wei and hit him square on the shoulder. before pouncing on him and the rest of the deck crew with his Marines.

Yes, it was good to be home.
************

Maho sighed. She was worried about the potentially dangerous situation she had gotten in; Doubtless, Biagio was in danger from his comrades, and they were just as liable to being killed as he was.
"News, Captain," a voice said from behind her.
Maho pulled up her robe and tightened the waistbelt before turning around to face Navigator First Rank Qian Lu.
"Ah, Qian-kun," she said warmly. the two of them had graduated the academy at the same time, and had found a friend in each other. "What is it?"
Qian fought to keep his eyes of Maho's slender body and took a deep breath before speaking. "Land has been spotted, a harbor of some sort. Request permission to put together a scout party and seek out the terrain."
Maho frowned. The way they were going right now, they could have been mistaken for enemies by the Agrigentians, if they owned this place. "Denied, Navigator. I will consult with COmmander Nguyen first and then speak with our 'guest' to see if he has any knowledge about this place."
Qian nodded. "As ordered, Maho-chan," he said with a wink. Only he called her by that aboard the ship, as everyone else was bound to formalities and decorum.
She winked back and waved as he left. As soon as the door clanged shut she turned around, pulling off her robe and dressing herself in a loose fitting pair of trousers and a standard blue cotton shirt worn by Islandian sailors. She pulled her jacket over herself, and headed for Biagio's cabin to see what she could find about this mysterious harbor.

"Aye sir, I dare say another surgeon wouldn't go amiss. How many wounded do we have back there, sergeant?" Called out the Captain.

"Mor'n' twenty with summat worse'n' a scratch, sir." Came Brent's reply.

I'll never complain about a hangover again thought the bloodied sgt., touching a hand to his bandaged head.

Captain Durnford turned back to Starsky and began to give a general account of the situation, referencing the brief history of the mission, Walmington's recent claim to the island of Ceyloba, the expected arrival of a fleet to sure up the WTM -and it's likely application in a full conquest, in light of this battle, which he speaks of in terms of native trickery, and Walmingtonian bravery and invention.. as well as Calarcan timing.

(eep, sorry if that's rather unrealistic. Most of the era web sites I visited said carronades were not listed in the gun total, and that medium to good sized frigates usually carried around a dozen. Again, sorry if that's incorrect - any misleading or false information will, of course, be edited out.

:roll: OOC: O ... you wanted realism, I see ... :lol: :wink: ... rofl that puts rather a lot of us out of business, wouldn't you say??? lol ... eh, as long as our internal logic is sound; right?!? lol

:roll: OOC: O ... you wanted realism, I see ... :lol: :wink: ... rofl that puts rather a lot of us out of business, wouldn't you say??? lol ... eh, as long as our internal logic is sound; right?!? lol

(Oh, I don't mind...er...disrealism ( :lol ) much, at least, not in respect to supernatural powers, especially in CO-RP. As with Daezeman, as long as there're negative points to balance out the positive ones. For myself, I'd like to maintain a high degree of realism in military / political tactics, and I encourage others to do the same. However, supernatural powers are fine - as long as both interactors agree to some simple regulations. Having seen you briefly in action, I'm sure that won't be a problem.

Anyway, sorry about my relative calm on this thread of late. As naval history of the early 20th century is something of a passion of mine, I've become caught up in a RP with Der Kriegsmarine and W.o.S. over in II, and have been too distracted to post much in here. With luck, that'll change soon.

In the meantime, I'm working on an IC post now about Iansislean naval expansion / the departure of settlement convoys to Galla-China / the death of High King Ian III. Hope to have it up, if not tonight, then tommorow!)

Greek Fire defeats all forms of magic!! :twisted:

I really try to be as realistic as possible, but my knowledge of this period is severely limited. Strategy, I do know however thanks to Sun Tzu.

Ceyloba

Midshipman Hutch pulls a pair of hand flags and a paper tube out of the satchel slung at his side. walking over to a wall visible to the ships in the harbour he lights the tube with a burning splinter plucked from a nearby fire burning a building the natives wrecked. The tube begins to burn with a brillient Earie green light as the mixture of moulded solid gunpowder, Magnesium powder and copper powder combusts.
Having obtained the ships attention he begins to wave the flags in a rythmatic motion, recognisbly a form of semaphore.

Shortly after a quick exchange of signals a boat is seen leaving the ships side as Lieutenant Starsky dispatches a section of marines to act as an escort for the surgeon. turning back to the Walmington Starsky makes a comment.

"I think you can look forward to seeing one of our diplomats show up here once we get back to base. We know the Iansisleans are somewhere to our north, but we didn't know of anyone other than natives to our south, through we have reports and rumour about others to the far north west where our natives buy most of their poppy juice.

Iansisleans? Captain Durnford pondered. From Starsky's seperate reference to natives he gathered that the Iansisleans were probably whites, but should he know them? North? Mainland Gallaga? We understood that to be unsafe for whites. Was this propaganda because the government simply wasn't willing to pay for further expeditions yet? Probably trying to ward off private competition until they could send their own task force, like this little affair.

Durnford didn't want to expose too much of either his own ignorance or of his nation's, and so he avoided asking for much clarification just now.

"I'm sure Walmington will be glad to make proper contact with your own base once the reinforcements arrive here." He said, his face still smiling. "I'm glad our first meeting could be on positive terms, as I dare say are the rest of my men here."

Empress Xiwu sat in a darkened corner of the Imperial Chambers in the capital city of Hukasa. She pondered over the new turn of events, and specifically considered what to do next; it appeared the Iansisleans were moving on Galla-china (Indochina), a place of ancestry for many of the residents of the Islandian Empire. This could lead to a problem; already, leading members of her government had stated strong opinions against colonization and Western influence, and such elements were gaining steady support.
Xiwu sighed. the empire was getting more and more restless, uneasy as to the intentions of the Westerners and their insatiable lust (or so some viewed it) for land and resources.
They would have to act. And soon. Xiwu doubted that they would stay in Gallaga; power and greed was an intoxicating mix, and they would soon be knocking on the doors to West COral Sea, albeit with a full flotilla of cruisers.

Indus River Delta

"Well they can have their base at Fort Tanesco", said Commodore Testarossa. He looked through his spyglass at the delta of the river that the natives called Indus. "Here I commission this land for use by the King of Agrigento, Umberto for construction of a new fort for his navy."

Construction began a few days later, after the land was properly surveyed and deemed suitable. Marshalling of the lumber, was a simple matter of intimidation against the native population. The whole of Sind was disheartened with the defeat of its leader, Prince Paras, and the failure of any rebel groups. They would serve the Agrigentians...for now. When it was done, 3 months later, it was christianed by the Commodore. Fort Tartaruga was born.

http://members.tripod.com/~FortTic/BW
Fort Tartaruga, Docking Facility is to the right

Maho sat down beside Vanzano, who stirred groggily. He seemed to be getting better, and the sight of a beautiful young woman sitting next to him seemed to increase his unease. Maho smiled, amused at his awkward behavior and shrugged.
She led him abovedecks, and pointed to a large harbor just over the horizon.

"Ma-ho has a question for you, Bi-a-gi-o. We are approaching land, a
har-bor, and we dont know where it is. do you?"

"I guess it would be Karachi, my people control that place.", he answered

"ka-ra-chi?" Maho asked, her head, tilted to one side in curiousity. "Is that a big, important place? More importantly, will you be found if we dock there?"

"Karachi is the only major port in the area. It is possible I might be recognized, but it shouldn't be a problem. You see I am wanted by the Agrigentians, Karachi is home to natives, who the Agrigentians who control the city. They wouldn't turn me in. If we do speak to the Agrigentians however I of course will be recognized and it will cause trouble for your ship."

Maho thought for a moment. She didnt know why she decided to take the chance, but she nodded. "We will take the chance, Bi-a-gi-o. My men are in need of supplies, and we need them now. We will keep your presence aboard a secret, as per tradition."

She turned away, but Biagio quickly caught her arm.
"Why?" he asked
"What?"
"Why are you doing this for me?"
Maho shrugged wordlessly and left.

where is everybody?

(Er, don't worry. I've not forgotten about this thread. I actually have a half-finished story on my w.p. right now, but not the motivation to finish it. Soooo, I'm still here, but may be rather quiet for a while ;) )

(Er, don't worry. I've not forgotten about this thread. I actually have a half-finished story on my w.p. right now, but not the motivation to finish it. Soooo, I'm still here, but may be rather quiet for a while ;) )

Okay good, bc I was over East Islandia's house yesterday and he was asking why no1 was posting.

Maho watched as Karachi came up in sight and several Agrigentian warships moved to challenge the Silver Willow.

The two Fire Ships came up right alongside the Junk, their hoses ready to spew forth tremendous volumes of the liquid world of hurt known as Greek fire.

"Attenzione! Attention! Attention! (<-With French accent) Aufmerksamkeit! Atenção! Atención! Beachdaich!"

"Stow guns," Maho ordered. "And keep our freind out of sight. Signal Lieutenant, accompany me. Keep all sudden moves down, and dont act in a threatening way."

Maho lowered a gangplank onto the foreign ship, and confidently called out, in slow English, "May we come a-board?"

Ah English speakers thought the Captain.

"I seeee thata you speak Inglese", he said to the Captain. While a line of Soldiers held their rifles at the ready. "Pleeze announce yore inention-zions".

What a strange attire! What a strange skin tone, and those eyes!

"We re-pre-sent the Imperial Flag Navy of Islandia," Maho said, bowing. Signal Lieutenant Chuang followed suit. "We are here on ex-ploration mission, se-pa-rated from main fleet. May we dock at har-bor?"

"Ah, Seperated yousa say. Docking at the harbor willa normale costa soma gold, but you can faghetaboudit. Consider yourselfa our guests, no?", said the Captain. "Talka to the docksmen whena you getta into da port. Hesa speaka beddor englesh denna me."

"Thank you," Maho said, bowing again. "We wish to present you with these."

She handed him a package, bound tightly in oiled cloth.
"Our ships shall follow you into port."

bump for a save from the 60 day expiry.

Or are there archives yet?

I'm pretty sure there's an archive forum...as for how to move it there, search me :lol:

Are you back full time, Calarca?

I take it this thread is dead.
or am i wrong?

Time to revive it!

I'm ready and willing...

we need like a purpose to this thread... like all of our forces suddenly meet up somewhere andeither we clash for control of Gallaga, or we dont.

something like that. i dunno, thats only a suggestion tho.

Someone just start posting what your people are doing. With some luck the others will then join.

Vollombo, 1752

"Brent! Good man, I wanted you to be the first to know, we're officially an overseas territory of the Walmingtonian empire of His Majesty King Ian, and I am to be Governor of Ceyloba! Princess Alexandra herself is coming out to commission me!"

Sgt.Brent seemed honestly pleased for his Captain, Durnford was a good man, fair with the natives until the prince's attack on the mission, and then firm when it was clearly needed. He spoke to his men like equals too, but tollerated no ill-discipline. Suaviter in modo, fortiter in re; it's the Walmingtonian way!

"Oh! And you're to be decorated, Sergeant!"

"Very good, sah!"

"Isn't it? Isn't it? Sherry?"

"Sherry!"

"Sherry."

The pair drank to a new imperial era, and a visit from the princess herself. Plus having survived the year was something of a cause for good cheer. The prince's attack on the WTM had been the last major action in the wars with Ceyloba's native population, but 1751 had been a year permeated by unrest as the mission grew and Walmingtonian influence spread across the island and white settlers displaced Gallagan natives.

With the new ships said to be inbound along with the princess Durnford would receive marines enough to pacify the entire island, and vessels large and fast enough to seek out the Calarcan and Iansislian settlements, and to carry out profitable trade.

(ooc:Eh, I hope no one minds me skipping a year, but I didn't really feel like picking up right after the last actions and rebuilding the Trade Mission bit by bit.. it has sort of slipped from the front of my mind and would seem a bit stale, I think. There's nothing to say others can't fill in events in 1751 if they're important to other nations. WoS didn't have much to do until more collonists arrived near the end of 1751.
Oh, and attempting to come up with a name for the new king I thought, "Ian! No wait, that's no good, I'll go by whatever song is next on my playlist. Joy Division, hm, Ian C.. oh hell!" And thus a king was born. Or crowned, really. We've not even met the Ians yet, just heard of them through Calarca.)

I'm pretty sure there's an archive forum...as for how to move it there, search me :lol:

Are you back full time, Calarca?

Hmm... have to see about the archive

As to being back... not really, I'm on the farm working for my food and board over the holidays.

I have so many thorns in my hands from clearing gorse during the day I can barely type at night, and am anyway to tired to think through plots...

I can make short responses, But I'm not up to initiatiing stuff or making long convolated posts.

That'll have to wait until University starts in March again... Uni, Blessed Uni...

Farm life doesn;t agree with me, but it has the advantage of being rent free... :)

Inside the packet handed to them were maps and various charts and even a golden-gilded compass, all produced by the Cartography Directorate for this expedition primarily.

The Silver Willow followed the ships into port slowly, and the crew disembarked to find a beautiful harbor and bustling town. Maho made sure that their "guest" stayed aboard and out of sight, and then she went off to explore the town, dressed as a sailor from the ship and accompanied by Tranh.

OOC: Alright, I officially pronounce this thread deceased. Who wants to conduct the last rites?