Praetonia
11-09-2005, 00:17
[OOC: I just felt like writing this as random national fluff. It's theoretically fully open but Im not sure how one would get involved.]
"How very bizarre," said the Lieutenant to his new Colonel, "I never expected anything like this when I joined up." The Colonel was introducing the young Lieutenant to his new Battalion which was parading before them. The unit was one of cavalry - not all that unusual for a Praetonian unit - but in this case the Lieutenant was well and truely miffed.
The Colonel's voice was almost apologetic, for although he was proud of his Battalion, their skill and efficiency at what they did and the flag for which he served, he too had to admit that his Battalion was strange and probably quite useless in conflict. "Welcome to the 1st MNDM! You, as one of our galant officers, are certainly going to be unique."
"Yes sir," the Lieutenant replied sheepishly, as though he were only agreeing out of respect for the man he was talking to.
"Battalion shall advance!" Barked the Battalion Sergeant Major. He drew his sword, steadied his horse and pushed the beast forwards at a slow trot. The line of horsemen followed behind him, drawing their own swords to fill the air with the rasping sound of metal sword scraping on metal scabbard. When the line had gone about fifty yards, it increased speed to a canter and then a gallop. Finally, the big Sergeant Major letting loose a savage warcry that was echoed by the rest of the line of cavalry, the line jumped into a full charge. The Sergeant Major dropped his sword so that the blade pointed straight forwards like a spear and the rest of the line immitated.
The sight was certainly fearsome. Scabbards and swords glinted viciously in the early morning sun, and the emaculate red coats and white crossbelts made the cavalrymen look like they were merely going out for a ride in the country, or a round of hunting on a gentlemanly estate, not practising the art of war.
Suddenly a horse slipped. The beast struggled to regain its footing but, losing all grip on the slippery deck, fell and smashed through the steel railings which were perfectly good for preventing a man falling into the sea below but could not stand up to the weight of a charging horse at full canter. The rest of the line continued regardless. Such occurances were common and most of the men in the Battalion had had it happen to them at least once before in their careers.
"Battalion! Halt!" The line slowed and stopped. They were running out of deck and could continue their manoeuvers no longer on horseback, so the Sergeant Major had them dismount to undergo firearms practice.
"Sir," the Lieutenant ventured again. His Colonel smiled sympatheticaly, almost apologetically, as if to indicate that he wouldnt be offended by any questions the young man might ask. "Is life like this often in the 1st Mounted Naval Dragoon Marines?" The Colonel frowned. New officers were always like this. If they joined the cavalry it was usually because they couldnt afford or couldnt pass the extremely testing aptitude exams required to get into the HorseGuards and usually they at least wanted to be in a unit with a remote chance of being involved in a battle.
"I wouldn't worry about it. It seems normal after a while. It..." precisely what else it was, the Lieutenant would never know, for at that moment the end of the flight deck of the Pocket Superdreadnaught and Royal Yacht HMS Glorious exploded in smoke and flame. Six hundred blunderbusses discharged their shots at once. Individually, each weapon had no accuracy whatsoever but in such a large group they scoured the entire length of the deck before becoming spent at about 150m.
The Colonel grimaced. "God help anyone who lands on this flight deck without His Majesty's approval," he said, before adding, "not that that will ever happen."
"How very bizarre," said the Lieutenant to his new Colonel, "I never expected anything like this when I joined up." The Colonel was introducing the young Lieutenant to his new Battalion which was parading before them. The unit was one of cavalry - not all that unusual for a Praetonian unit - but in this case the Lieutenant was well and truely miffed.
The Colonel's voice was almost apologetic, for although he was proud of his Battalion, their skill and efficiency at what they did and the flag for which he served, he too had to admit that his Battalion was strange and probably quite useless in conflict. "Welcome to the 1st MNDM! You, as one of our galant officers, are certainly going to be unique."
"Yes sir," the Lieutenant replied sheepishly, as though he were only agreeing out of respect for the man he was talking to.
"Battalion shall advance!" Barked the Battalion Sergeant Major. He drew his sword, steadied his horse and pushed the beast forwards at a slow trot. The line of horsemen followed behind him, drawing their own swords to fill the air with the rasping sound of metal sword scraping on metal scabbard. When the line had gone about fifty yards, it increased speed to a canter and then a gallop. Finally, the big Sergeant Major letting loose a savage warcry that was echoed by the rest of the line of cavalry, the line jumped into a full charge. The Sergeant Major dropped his sword so that the blade pointed straight forwards like a spear and the rest of the line immitated.
The sight was certainly fearsome. Scabbards and swords glinted viciously in the early morning sun, and the emaculate red coats and white crossbelts made the cavalrymen look like they were merely going out for a ride in the country, or a round of hunting on a gentlemanly estate, not practising the art of war.
Suddenly a horse slipped. The beast struggled to regain its footing but, losing all grip on the slippery deck, fell and smashed through the steel railings which were perfectly good for preventing a man falling into the sea below but could not stand up to the weight of a charging horse at full canter. The rest of the line continued regardless. Such occurances were common and most of the men in the Battalion had had it happen to them at least once before in their careers.
"Battalion! Halt!" The line slowed and stopped. They were running out of deck and could continue their manoeuvers no longer on horseback, so the Sergeant Major had them dismount to undergo firearms practice.
"Sir," the Lieutenant ventured again. His Colonel smiled sympatheticaly, almost apologetically, as if to indicate that he wouldnt be offended by any questions the young man might ask. "Is life like this often in the 1st Mounted Naval Dragoon Marines?" The Colonel frowned. New officers were always like this. If they joined the cavalry it was usually because they couldnt afford or couldnt pass the extremely testing aptitude exams required to get into the HorseGuards and usually they at least wanted to be in a unit with a remote chance of being involved in a battle.
"I wouldn't worry about it. It seems normal after a while. It..." precisely what else it was, the Lieutenant would never know, for at that moment the end of the flight deck of the Pocket Superdreadnaught and Royal Yacht HMS Glorious exploded in smoke and flame. Six hundred blunderbusses discharged their shots at once. Individually, each weapon had no accuracy whatsoever but in such a large group they scoured the entire length of the deck before becoming spent at about 150m.
The Colonel grimaced. "God help anyone who lands on this flight deck without His Majesty's approval," he said, before adding, "not that that will ever happen."