Fort Regal, Morning. 48th of Roalis 2720
The sun was high in the sky above Fort Regal and a warm breeze blew in from the sea. The Fort squatted on the coastline of Southern Anaxas, between Hartbook and Hulewin. It had been built back during the Pirate Wars, and its purpose was largely still the same. To 'discourage' pirates, lest they grow too bold.
It was currently the home of the First Battalion of His Majesty's Engineering Corps. Their purpose was to combat test the latest military innovations from the various workshops and foundries of Anaxas.
The mood in the Fort was languid, the human troops and galdori officers alike lounged in the shade.
Up on Coastal Bastion A company mostly sat around their various emplaced weapons and stared out at the empty sea.
A fair haired man in shirt sleeves sat on a chair, he wore black breeches with a gold strip down the outside of both legs. His booted feet up on the wall and his face covered by a handkerchief.
From the back of the chair a splendid bottle green uniform coat, trimmed in back with the silver crown of a captain on the stiff collar and the lurral reefed torch of the R.E.C on the sleeves.
From one of the towers a man, with the single strip of a corporal on the sleeve of his unbuttoned bottle green coat, came running.
Captain Blair sir, a sail!"
With that Blair burst from his seat, the handkerchief snatched away by the breeze. His sharp green eyes raked the horizon, after a moment he motioned to the trooper.
"Your glass please Hancock."
Hancock handed him his spyglass and pointed to the west. Blair flashed him a grin of thanks as he took the glass and trained it in the direction that had been indicated.
There it was, the flash of a sail in the sun just cresting the horizon. Blair closed the spyglass decisively, his green eyes danced with excitement.
"You're right Corporal! Good eyes that man." Hancock could not help but return the Captain's grin, it was almost boyish in its glee.
"Hancock, be so kind as to return to the watch tower and give the ready signal."
The man, still grinning, threw a salute before running back towards the tower.
Blair took off down the battlements towards one of the squat gun emplacements. The crew of this particular artillery piece were lounging in the shade. However when the burly sergeant saw his Captain coming he sprang to his feet and ordered the crew to come to attention.
"Sargent Monroe, are the boilers for number two ready?"
The burly Monroe cast an eye over his shoulder, sending a shirt sleeved gunner to go check.
"Aye sir, fires banked." He found a grin pulling at the corners of his own mouth.
"In that case, be so good as to bring the gun up to pressure. It appears we have an excellent opportunity for some field testing!"
There was a cheer from the crew of the long barreled pneumatic cannon, as they sprang to work.
His red gold hair blowing in the slight coastal wind Captain Blair ran to the parapet, rolling his shirt sleeves as he did. He braced on foot between two crenellations and raised his freckled arms, hands wide to catch the breeze as his finger's moved.
With a deep breath he focused his eyes on the now visible sail, about the size of a man's handkerchief. He blocked out all unnecessary noise, and he held an image of the ship, it was a brig, heavy and square rigged. With another long breath he called upon the waves of mona that filled the air around him, and felt strands coil around his outstretched fingers.
He wove a grid in the air, in his mind's eye he saw lines of trajectory, ballistic arches and wind speed picked out in golden light. Then he shouted.
"Sargent, raise the barrel three notches and turn it four to the right. Let's give them a screamer shell across the bows. Remind them who owns these waters!"
Monroe turned and relayed the orders to the gun crew who leapt to it.
The breach was leavered open and a iron cylinder, that was ten inches long with a cone at one end, with a series holes that showed the inside was mostly hollow.
A gunner shouted "Ready to fire!"
With a wild grin on his face Blair yelled.
"FIRE!"
With a hissing roar and a cloud of steam the cannon fired, sending the wildly screaming round hurtling towards the ship.
It was currently the home of the First Battalion of His Majesty's Engineering Corps. Their purpose was to combat test the latest military innovations from the various workshops and foundries of Anaxas.
The mood in the Fort was languid, the human troops and galdori officers alike lounged in the shade.
Up on Coastal Bastion A company mostly sat around their various emplaced weapons and stared out at the empty sea.
A fair haired man in shirt sleeves sat on a chair, he wore black breeches with a gold strip down the outside of both legs. His booted feet up on the wall and his face covered by a handkerchief.
From the back of the chair a splendid bottle green uniform coat, trimmed in back with the silver crown of a captain on the stiff collar and the lurral reefed torch of the R.E.C on the sleeves.
From one of the towers a man, with the single strip of a corporal on the sleeve of his unbuttoned bottle green coat, came running.
Captain Blair sir, a sail!"
With that Blair burst from his seat, the handkerchief snatched away by the breeze. His sharp green eyes raked the horizon, after a moment he motioned to the trooper.
"Your glass please Hancock."
Hancock handed him his spyglass and pointed to the west. Blair flashed him a grin of thanks as he took the glass and trained it in the direction that had been indicated.
There it was, the flash of a sail in the sun just cresting the horizon. Blair closed the spyglass decisively, his green eyes danced with excitement.
"You're right Corporal! Good eyes that man." Hancock could not help but return the Captain's grin, it was almost boyish in its glee.
"Hancock, be so kind as to return to the watch tower and give the ready signal."
The man, still grinning, threw a salute before running back towards the tower.
Blair took off down the battlements towards one of the squat gun emplacements. The crew of this particular artillery piece were lounging in the shade. However when the burly sergeant saw his Captain coming he sprang to his feet and ordered the crew to come to attention.
"Sargent Monroe, are the boilers for number two ready?"
The burly Monroe cast an eye over his shoulder, sending a shirt sleeved gunner to go check.
"Aye sir, fires banked." He found a grin pulling at the corners of his own mouth.
"In that case, be so good as to bring the gun up to pressure. It appears we have an excellent opportunity for some field testing!"
There was a cheer from the crew of the long barreled pneumatic cannon, as they sprang to work.
His red gold hair blowing in the slight coastal wind Captain Blair ran to the parapet, rolling his shirt sleeves as he did. He braced on foot between two crenellations and raised his freckled arms, hands wide to catch the breeze as his finger's moved.
With a deep breath he focused his eyes on the now visible sail, about the size of a man's handkerchief. He blocked out all unnecessary noise, and he held an image of the ship, it was a brig, heavy and square rigged. With another long breath he called upon the waves of mona that filled the air around him, and felt strands coil around his outstretched fingers.
He wove a grid in the air, in his mind's eye he saw lines of trajectory, ballistic arches and wind speed picked out in golden light. Then he shouted.
"Sargent, raise the barrel three notches and turn it four to the right. Let's give them a screamer shell across the bows. Remind them who owns these waters!"
Monroe turned and relayed the orders to the gun crew who leapt to it.
The breach was leavered open and a iron cylinder, that was ten inches long with a cone at one end, with a series holes that showed the inside was mostly hollow.
A gunner shouted "Ready to fire!"
With a wild grin on his face Blair yelled.
"FIRE!"
With a hissing roar and a cloud of steam the cannon fired, sending the wildly screaming round hurtling towards the ship.
