Post by Myrdraxxis on Nov 12, 2011 22:09:10 GMT -5
because I'm bored and attention starved
-Prologue
Zachariah stood at the edge of the abyss, staring silently off into the ever brightening horizon. Dawn was beginning to light the sky, what few rays of light it brought gleaming brightly off of the smooth metal surface of the Harbinger. Pinpricks of light flashed across the sky as the light caught the metal hulls of the other ships that hovered listlessly in the air like birds of prey. Zachariah snorted derisively. The vast Imperial fleets that sailed the skies above Vaer were a sight that often inspired awe in folks, a symbol of Imperial might that had been vocalized, glorified and romanticized by just about every poet and bard in the realm.
To Zachariah, the fleet was a symbol of the war that had dragged on for nearly a decade. A reminder that no clear end was in sight. He sighed, shaking his head of the dour thoughts and started strolling across the deck, continuing solitary patrol.
Zachariah had found it had become a bit of a morning ritual of his, to wake early and walk to the upper decks of his ship, watching the sun rise and a new day begin. It was one of the few times in his day that he found to truly be peaceful. He paused mid-pace.
Dead gods, he was starting to sound like an old man!
Zachariah shook his head mirthfully as he idly tugged at chin hairs that had been growing for the past week; He mentally noted to shave before returning to port. The ire of his superiors was the last thing that Zachariah wanted to face. Again.
He leaned against the metal railing – the only thing that kept him from plunging to his death- fearlessly, all but ignoring the open space before him. He had long ago gotten over any discomfort with being in the air. Being on such a powerful warship, miles higher than any town or city gave the ship captain a degree of thrill that he couldn’t describe.
Freedom. That was it.
Zachariah smiled softly as a salty spray of wind whipped across the deck, tugging at his uniform. The sound of the howling wind and the distant hum of the ship’s reactors as mana pumped through them were the only sounds Zachariah could hear. This sector of the ship was deserted at this time of morning, the night watch returning to their cots for rest while their replacements were just beginning to awaken. Zachariah stared at the skyline for a long moment before glancing downward at the blue field of ocean below, so very many miles below. He felt a small lurch and grimaced, backing away from the railing.
Okay, so maybe he still had a little problem with heights.
Zachariah slowly stepped back to the railing. He gazed over the side of the ship, down past the open space to waters below. The ocean stretched out into the distance as far as the eye could see. The Vaerian coast met the water below the airship fleet, as much of a symbol of the nation’s border as the fleet that guarded it. Beyond that border lay Imperial Vaer in all her majesty, with hundreds of towns, cities and villages of loyal citizens.
The captain tried not to think of the thousands of families that lived along this coast. Of the many that had –or would- die soon. The coastline of Vaer had become one of the most dangerous places to live since the genesis of its conflict with Eschar, a constantly shifting battlefield that had made the land’s border all but inhabitable. Yet still, stubborn citizens refused to leave their towns and homesteads for safer havens further inland. On his last shore leave Zachariah had confronted a passing farmer on the topic. The man had outright laughed at the airship captain’s inquiry, waving off his concerns with bravado and humor.
Zachariah supposed he shouldn’t be as confused by the suicidal decision as he was. After all, this was their home. They were proud citizens of the Emperor’s might! No bloody inbred Eschar bastards would make them yield.
All he could do was try his best to ignore them. To ignore the fact that they would probably all die for their dedication.
He returned his gaze to the heavens. The sun was high enough in the sky now that he could see the clouds floating in the distance. He squinted and could make out dark shapes -no larger than specks to his eyes- hovering gently in the fog. He did a crisp about face and began walking back across the metal deck towards the open door that led back down into the ship.
A man was waiting for him as Zachariah stepped down the ladder, standing at sharp attention. "Captain." the man said shortly. There was a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand, which he promptly offered up as Zachariah approached.
Zachariah nodded and took the cup. He kept walking. "Walk with me lieutenant." he said, and the man fell in step alongside him.
The hallway provided some view outside of the airship through small portholes spaced evenly along the wall. Every so often Zachariah would glance out one as they walked, always eying the skyline. "They're up early this morning." he said casually, taking a sip of his drink. "Seems they think this will be the day that they finally break our backs, eh Marcus?" he inclined his head to the lieutenant striding beside him. Lieutenant Marcus grunted, nodding his shaved head faintly.
"Seems Eschar’s full of energy this morning sir."
Zach grinned. They followed the winding passageways of the ship until they were upon a large pair of double-doors. Zachariah took one step forward when the ground beneath them shook violently, nearly knocking Lieutenant Marcus off his feet. The lieutenant swore softly. Zachariah simply kept walking to the door.
"They're within artillery range it seems." Zachariah said amusedly. He sipped his -surprisingly undisturbed- coffee and entered the bridge.
The bridge of the Harbinger was situated near the middle of the ship, elevated so that one could stare out across the entire length of the airship. It provided a risky defensive hazard but to Zachariah, the view it gave him of the battlefield was worth it. The bridge crew was scrambling to their duties, though Zachariah noted that they moved with discipline and precision, each knowing their role without needed any vocal commands. He’d trained them well.
Zachariah schooled his features and strode into the room, stepping around the navigator's bench. He gave a nod to Ensign Rocio as he passed. The junior officer’s eyes were closed in concentration as he rested his hands on the crystal conduits that lined his seat. Magic coursed through the helmsman’s hands and into the crystals, which in turn coursed through the inner workings of the ship, amplified to staggering degrees by the ship itself as the Harbinger moved in response to the Ensign’s will. Rocio was a mage of irreplaceable skill as a navigator, responsible for guiding them through the skies safely, and making sure they didn’t drop out of the heavens like a rock.
Zachariah crossed the bridge and climbed the steps to his own chair, positioned to overlook the entire bridge. The captain took his place, and observed the situation calmly. "Status?"
"The Gladiator and Veritas are moving to engage." Communication's officer Higges reported sharply, his hands moving across the spell matrix in front of him, hands bathed in a soft blue glow.
"Eschar forces moving up with twelve ships to the fore in delta attack pattern. They're leaving the Nacht in reserves for the time being from the looks of it." another ensign said from his station. Zachariah hummed thoughtfully.
"Or they're picking their moment to strike us hard. The Nacht has some damn powerful artillery cannons on it. Combat stations at full alert. Have cannon decks one through five at the ready to give spread fire. Keep those airships on their toes. In the mean time get the Gladiator on the line and have them target our marks. I'll give the signal." The captains said. There was a flurry of activity as the crew went about their tasks. Lieutenant Marcus took his place standing beside Zachariah's chair, awaiting orders.
The captain took a calm sip of his drink, even as the ship shook from another close hit by Eschar heavy guns.
"Sir! The Gladiator says it's in position sir!"
Zachariah swirled the warm drink in his mouth for a long moment, observing the approaching Eschar warships, closing in like hawks for the kill. He swallowed and leaned back in his chair. "Fire."
-Prologue
Zachariah stood at the edge of the abyss, staring silently off into the ever brightening horizon. Dawn was beginning to light the sky, what few rays of light it brought gleaming brightly off of the smooth metal surface of the Harbinger. Pinpricks of light flashed across the sky as the light caught the metal hulls of the other ships that hovered listlessly in the air like birds of prey. Zachariah snorted derisively. The vast Imperial fleets that sailed the skies above Vaer were a sight that often inspired awe in folks, a symbol of Imperial might that had been vocalized, glorified and romanticized by just about every poet and bard in the realm.
To Zachariah, the fleet was a symbol of the war that had dragged on for nearly a decade. A reminder that no clear end was in sight. He sighed, shaking his head of the dour thoughts and started strolling across the deck, continuing solitary patrol.
Zachariah had found it had become a bit of a morning ritual of his, to wake early and walk to the upper decks of his ship, watching the sun rise and a new day begin. It was one of the few times in his day that he found to truly be peaceful. He paused mid-pace.
Dead gods, he was starting to sound like an old man!
Zachariah shook his head mirthfully as he idly tugged at chin hairs that had been growing for the past week; He mentally noted to shave before returning to port. The ire of his superiors was the last thing that Zachariah wanted to face. Again.
He leaned against the metal railing – the only thing that kept him from plunging to his death- fearlessly, all but ignoring the open space before him. He had long ago gotten over any discomfort with being in the air. Being on such a powerful warship, miles higher than any town or city gave the ship captain a degree of thrill that he couldn’t describe.
Freedom. That was it.
Zachariah smiled softly as a salty spray of wind whipped across the deck, tugging at his uniform. The sound of the howling wind and the distant hum of the ship’s reactors as mana pumped through them were the only sounds Zachariah could hear. This sector of the ship was deserted at this time of morning, the night watch returning to their cots for rest while their replacements were just beginning to awaken. Zachariah stared at the skyline for a long moment before glancing downward at the blue field of ocean below, so very many miles below. He felt a small lurch and grimaced, backing away from the railing.
Okay, so maybe he still had a little problem with heights.
Zachariah slowly stepped back to the railing. He gazed over the side of the ship, down past the open space to waters below. The ocean stretched out into the distance as far as the eye could see. The Vaerian coast met the water below the airship fleet, as much of a symbol of the nation’s border as the fleet that guarded it. Beyond that border lay Imperial Vaer in all her majesty, with hundreds of towns, cities and villages of loyal citizens.
The captain tried not to think of the thousands of families that lived along this coast. Of the many that had –or would- die soon. The coastline of Vaer had become one of the most dangerous places to live since the genesis of its conflict with Eschar, a constantly shifting battlefield that had made the land’s border all but inhabitable. Yet still, stubborn citizens refused to leave their towns and homesteads for safer havens further inland. On his last shore leave Zachariah had confronted a passing farmer on the topic. The man had outright laughed at the airship captain’s inquiry, waving off his concerns with bravado and humor.
Zachariah supposed he shouldn’t be as confused by the suicidal decision as he was. After all, this was their home. They were proud citizens of the Emperor’s might! No bloody inbred Eschar bastards would make them yield.
All he could do was try his best to ignore them. To ignore the fact that they would probably all die for their dedication.
He returned his gaze to the heavens. The sun was high enough in the sky now that he could see the clouds floating in the distance. He squinted and could make out dark shapes -no larger than specks to his eyes- hovering gently in the fog. He did a crisp about face and began walking back across the metal deck towards the open door that led back down into the ship.
A man was waiting for him as Zachariah stepped down the ladder, standing at sharp attention. "Captain." the man said shortly. There was a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand, which he promptly offered up as Zachariah approached.
Zachariah nodded and took the cup. He kept walking. "Walk with me lieutenant." he said, and the man fell in step alongside him.
The hallway provided some view outside of the airship through small portholes spaced evenly along the wall. Every so often Zachariah would glance out one as they walked, always eying the skyline. "They're up early this morning." he said casually, taking a sip of his drink. "Seems they think this will be the day that they finally break our backs, eh Marcus?" he inclined his head to the lieutenant striding beside him. Lieutenant Marcus grunted, nodding his shaved head faintly.
"Seems Eschar’s full of energy this morning sir."
Zach grinned. They followed the winding passageways of the ship until they were upon a large pair of double-doors. Zachariah took one step forward when the ground beneath them shook violently, nearly knocking Lieutenant Marcus off his feet. The lieutenant swore softly. Zachariah simply kept walking to the door.
"They're within artillery range it seems." Zachariah said amusedly. He sipped his -surprisingly undisturbed- coffee and entered the bridge.
The bridge of the Harbinger was situated near the middle of the ship, elevated so that one could stare out across the entire length of the airship. It provided a risky defensive hazard but to Zachariah, the view it gave him of the battlefield was worth it. The bridge crew was scrambling to their duties, though Zachariah noted that they moved with discipline and precision, each knowing their role without needed any vocal commands. He’d trained them well.
Zachariah schooled his features and strode into the room, stepping around the navigator's bench. He gave a nod to Ensign Rocio as he passed. The junior officer’s eyes were closed in concentration as he rested his hands on the crystal conduits that lined his seat. Magic coursed through the helmsman’s hands and into the crystals, which in turn coursed through the inner workings of the ship, amplified to staggering degrees by the ship itself as the Harbinger moved in response to the Ensign’s will. Rocio was a mage of irreplaceable skill as a navigator, responsible for guiding them through the skies safely, and making sure they didn’t drop out of the heavens like a rock.
Zachariah crossed the bridge and climbed the steps to his own chair, positioned to overlook the entire bridge. The captain took his place, and observed the situation calmly. "Status?"
"The Gladiator and Veritas are moving to engage." Communication's officer Higges reported sharply, his hands moving across the spell matrix in front of him, hands bathed in a soft blue glow.
"Eschar forces moving up with twelve ships to the fore in delta attack pattern. They're leaving the Nacht in reserves for the time being from the looks of it." another ensign said from his station. Zachariah hummed thoughtfully.
"Or they're picking their moment to strike us hard. The Nacht has some damn powerful artillery cannons on it. Combat stations at full alert. Have cannon decks one through five at the ready to give spread fire. Keep those airships on their toes. In the mean time get the Gladiator on the line and have them target our marks. I'll give the signal." The captains said. There was a flurry of activity as the crew went about their tasks. Lieutenant Marcus took his place standing beside Zachariah's chair, awaiting orders.
The captain took a calm sip of his drink, even as the ship shook from another close hit by Eschar heavy guns.
"Sir! The Gladiator says it's in position sir!"
Zachariah swirled the warm drink in his mouth for a long moment, observing the approaching Eschar warships, closing in like hawks for the kill. He swallowed and leaned back in his chair. "Fire."