Nanowrimo Experiment

[edonil]

So, I don't have a name for this just yet...I'm going to be working on doing Nanowrimo this year, and started working on an idea. Just posting up the very beginning, curious what people think. Be as critical as you'd like, I could definitely use the feedback. Names are in flux, at the moment. Setting is modified steampunk, working on the world building right now.

The war should have been over three months ago.

Arias ducked his head as a bullet roared by, ricocheting off the metal wall behind him. “Flyers!” he yelled. “Spotters, where are they?”

“Starboard, Captain!” one of the young boys called out.

“Well, someone put them down,” he ordered, pulling his hat, complete with rank badge, off his head. They were well and truly in enemy territory, he reflected as he shifted position. The anti-air gun opened up behind him, the roar of it rendering him deaf. The captain winced, then grimly ignored the pain. If flyers had shown up, they might be near the target.

Looking through his spyglass, the captain scanned the skies. Flyers needed a home to roost, and the sooner his squadron found it, and killed it, the better. Airships like the Merlin were heavily armed for their weight, that didn’t seem to matter as much when they were going against something much larger than them. Air carriers, homes to flyers and bombers, definitely fit into that category of ‘much larger’. He closed the spyglass with a snarled curse as he saw nothing, and moved back to the bridge of his ship.

“Sir,” one of his crew said as he entered the bridge, handing him a long, thin piece of paper. Arias accepted it with a mumbled thanks, looking over the dashes and dots of the coded transmission. He would have given his right arm for the ‘radios’ the enemy had to coordinate their formations, but being able to keep in contact by transceiver was worthwhile no matter what. He nodded in satisfaction as he read that Raven had spotted the carrier off in the distance, and was requesting orders to pursue.

“Helm, bring us three degrees to starboard,” he ordered. “Ensign Jacobs, go let the gunnery officers know that the target has been spotted a few miles off, we’ll need their cannons and rockets armed and ready to fire. Communications, give the squadron our heading and target, then tell Raven to pursue, but not to engage.”

A flurry of acknowledgements followed, and the bridge exploded into action. The young Ensign ran out the door to carry out his orders, and Arias turned his attention to the skies. He tried to catch a sight of the flyer that had taken a shot at him, curious what design it was. The nation of Drasvar was one with an astounding level of technology, and so, while they had machines filling the same role as aeroplanes, they had constructed them with an eye for beauty. The machines were made with a variety of forms, from birds to dragons. Arias muttered a prayer under his breath for raptors. Without aeroplane support of their own, the squadron would be no match for anything more dangerous.

[TheOneWhoFell]

ooo edonil!!! I love it... I'm excited to read more!!! Can't wait til December

[Absolution Black]

That is a very good start! Already I am liking the captain and you are only a few paragraphs in....

The fact you are straight into the action is also good, makes the reader sit up and take notice.

You have introduced several things I instantly want to know more about..the flying machines, the captain, the nation of Drasvar....

All in all a very positive and interesting start.....looking forward to reading the completed article in December!!

[SteamHammer]

Good, but the last paragraph doesn't work for me. Something's not right. I feel it is too rushed from "The nation of Drasvar" part onwards. We didn't know Drasvar was the enemy and maybe expand on their mechanical designs more.

Sorry I can't put my finger on it.

[xxXhayzelXxx]

Very nice Edonil

[Ebonstar]

Woot! I want more please!

[Cambrius]

Great start! I love the air carrier idea.

[edonil]

Well, I'm glad to see that people liked it! That's very encouraging. Thanks for the kind comments. And Steam, I'd like to thank you specifically for telling me the issues that you had with it, gives me something to work on.

[Jaslyne]

Oh wow there are other people who pick up Nanowrimo. I'll be following this and maybe it'll give me the motivation to post some of my work (since November seems to be the shortest of months for the last four years). Great start so far I can't wait to see more.

[TheOneWhoFell]

Oh wow there are other people who pick up Nanowrimo. I'll be following this and maybe it'll give me the motivation to post some of my work (since November seems to be the shortest of months for the last four years). Great start so far I can't wait to see more.

I was really surprised that I didn't have to explain NaNoWriMo when I dropped the term in the Off Topic Playground the other day... And I'm excited about having a place to get some writing support... tbh it's like having a strange addiction that no one but other addicts understands This will be my 4th NaNo... but I've only won once...

[edonil]

Author's Note: So, since the muse is interested in writing now, I'm not about to argue with her. Going to try to do Nanowrimo in October, and I'll post updates here. Here's the first update!

Sergeant Soli Navin rested her hand on the saddle of her flyer. The large mechanical bird flapped its wings with barely a sound, holding its position well out of range of the airship. She reached down, picking up the talk piece to her radio from it’s slot on the saddle.

“Destiny, this is Navin, over.”

After a short delay, “Navin, this is Destiny, Wing Captain Edori speaking. Seen something? Over.”

“Looks like a few of those new airships we heard about, sir. They seem to be hunting, I’m betting they’re looking for the Destiny, over.”

“Acknowledged, Navin. Just a moment.” Soli rapped her fingers on her rifle as she waited, trying to distract her mind from the chill in the air. It was too bad, she mused, that she’d missed the shot at that airship captain.

“Navin, how long have you been out? Over.”

Soli dug a watch out of the pocket of her leather coat. “Just over two hours, sir. I was about to head back when I caught sight of them. Over.”

“Stay in the area, Navin. You’re going to be reinforced, we want to try to thin out their numbers before they find Destiny. Over and out.”

Soli sighed, then replaced the talk piece. She reached out with a gloved hand and patted her flyer on the neck, the warm gloves insulating her from the chill metal. “Looks like we’re going to get some action in today, Rasha. You ready, girl?”

No answer, of course, but Soli could feel the childlike mind of the raptor in the back of her head, awaiting her instructions. With a gentle nudge, Soli sent the flyer higher in the air, keeping the airship in sight. The design of the Assarian airship struck her as incredibly odd. It had the sleek, curved lines of a naval destroyer, covered in metal plating and light grey paint that helped it blend into the clouds. She couldn’t see the airbag that kept it aloft, which puzzled her.

Her homeland had the best technology available, with the best minds both magical and scientific, but even they hadn’t figured out how to make levitation work. Wings that beat like a bird and lighter than air gases were both common, but nothing that would just stay in the air on its own. Curiosity gnawed at her mind, and she fought the urge to get closer for a better look. Instead, she checked the magazine of her rifle, mentally guiding the flyer to a position south of the airship as she went through the drilled motions. Satisfied that she had enough ammunition in the weapon, she put it back in the holster on the saddle, and pulled her boarding weapon from her belt. With the press of a switch, the young woman extended the telescopic hilt of the glaive, and examined the curved blade at the end of it.

Done with those tasks, Soli settled in to wait for the order to attack, studying the sky to watch for her reinforcements.

----

Arias stepped out of the bridge, heading out to inspect the readiness of his ship. At his side was his second, Lieutenant Brayden Williams, a young man of noble heritage from Assar. The lieutenant was a solid young man, eager for glory and extremely good at his job, making sure that the ship ran smoothly. They quietly discussed strategy for the upcoming fight, taking in the weather and the time of day.

“It’s getting right around noon,” the lieutenant said.

“Unfortunately, that means we won’t be able to sneak in using the sun, it’ll be right over their heads.”

“True, but the clouds are a godsend, exactly what we need. Our airships will blend into the cover, and that will buy us some time. We’ll hold off on our rockets and start the fight with the cannons.”

“That’ll bring us in very close, sir,” Williams said. “Our cannons don’t have nearly the range of our rockets, and the new caliber guns can make up for the rockets that miss.” The comment was phrased politely and respectfully, just as was proper, and Arias spent a few moments considering it. Traditional tactics held that rockets, inaccurate, but extremely destructive, shouldn’t be wasted early on in a fight. Reloading the tubes was difficult and took a great deal of time, so they were held onto for maximum effect.

Arias shrugged. The Huntsmen class airships were an entirely untested design, they might as well dispense with tradition from the start. “We’ll try that, Lieutenant. So long as the new auto-loaders for the cannons don’t fail, it seems like a solid plan.” The captain looked up and smiled as he saw the other members of his squadron in the distance. “Seems like everyone found the rendezvous just fine,” he said with satisfaction.

He turned back to the bridge to give orders to the rest of the squadron and staggered as the Merlin lurched in the air. The screech of metal on metal filled the air, and Arias felt the blood drain from his face. Several members of the crew cried out in alarm, grabbing hold of railings and walls, a few dropping to the deck. “What the hell was that?” Williams demanded.

“I don’t know,” Arias said harshly. “But I’m willing to bet it was nothing good. Get the crew ready to repel boarders, and the guns primed. I bet that scout let the Drasvarians know we were coming.” He ran back to the bridge as quickly as possible as the lieutenant began shouting orders. Arias stumbled in through the open hatch onto the bridge as the ship lurched once again.

“Helm, all speed ahead. Communications, tell the squadron to watch for flyers, and advance to the target. All ships, engage at will!”

A harsh shriek filled the air, and the captain turned to see a Drasvarian flyer streak across the deck, the birdlike claws extended. It latched onto the front of Merlin and kept beating its wings, dragging the heavier airship for a few perilous heartbeats. The ship groaned in protest, metal warping and rivets popping up at the prow. Arias opened his mouth to yell orders, but no one could hear him over the roar of the cannon that rested on top of the closed bridge. The heavy shell struck the flyer right in the chest, and the raptor cried in fury as it was knocked off the ship, shrapnel flying from the hole in it. Arias watched as the raptor’s pilot jumped smoothly off his doomed flyer, tucking into a roll onto the airship deck.

As the Drasvarian settled on one knee, he raised a pistol in a two-handed grip and opened fire on Arias’ crew. Time seemed to slow, blood bursting into the air as men and women collapsed onto the wooden deck plates, too shocked to react. Furious, Arias drew his own pistol and began firing back. The pilot ducked behind the blocky turret of the forward cannon, avoiding the attack. Arias’ shots snapped the crew out of their trance, and they drew their own weapons, sending a hail of fire at their enemy.

“Everybody down!” Arias roared as he heard the shriek of a flyer once again. His crew took cover behind whatever objects they could as machine gun fire strafed across the deck, blood from the wounded and dead spraying into the air. The Drasvarian pilot ran to the port side of the Merlin, jumping over the edge. Moments later, a flyer crafted in the shape of an eagle lifted up from that side, carrying two passengers. Arias rushed forward to one of the bodies on the deck, and his breath caught as he saw it was Williams. He reached down, checking for a pulse at the young man’s neck, then pulled his hand away. Carefully, the captain closed the young lieutenant’s staring, sightless eyes.

----

Soli guided Rasha around the Assarian airship, inspecting the enemy vessel before committing to an attack. The name Harrier was proudly displayed on the side of the ship, red against the pale grey of the armor. The heavy cannon turrets on the prow and rear were priority targets, knocking them out could keep the ships from damaging Destiny. Right below those on the list were the four anti-air batteries spread evenly over the ship.

Soli turned in her saddle, looking for one of her wingmates. Another raptor was angling for a strike on the Harrier, and Soli waved her hand to get the other’s attention. A wave of acknowledgement came back, and Soli quickly signaled her plan with her arms. The two pilots turned directly toward the enemy ship, coming at it from directly above.

The Drasvarian pilot stood up in her saddle and leaned forward, pulling her glaive out. Rasha plummeted down, just barely missing the Harrier. As Soli jumped off, she pushed instructions into her raptor’s mind, then tucked into a ball as she landed near the stern of the ship. She sprang up with a gymnast’s grace, her glaive’s handle extending as her feet landed solidly on the deck. She had landed next to the rear cannon, and already the crew were reacting to her presence. An older man in an officer’s uniform charged her, slashing heavily with his cutlass. Soli blocked the attack with her staff, taking a half step back to brace herself for the block. The two enemies exchanged blows briefly, neither gaining the advantage, Soli giving ground more and more.

A blast of fire from off to the side covered the Assarian officer, who screamed in agony until Soli ran him through. The sergeant turned her head briefly to see her fellow raptor pilot step forward, the other woman lowering her smoking gauntlet. “About time you showed up, Jensen” Soli shouted over the wind.

“Sorry, sergeant,” Jensen replied, parrying a blow with her rapier. “I landed more towards the middle, took me a little bit to get up here!”

“Don’t worry about it. Got your explosives?”

“Never leave home without them,” came the reply. Jensen stepped back, allowing Soli to take over defending the two of them from the increasing numbers of enemies attacking them. She pulled out a couple grenades, primed them, and tossed them under the turret. “Fire in the hole! Hope the raptors are paying close attention, or it’s a long way down!”

The two women ran toward the stern railing and jumped over it. The wind screamed in Soli’s ears, stealing the sound of the explosion. Soli looked around frantically for Rasha, hand lifting to grab the cord to her parachute. She let go as the raptor, silver skin gleaming in the sunlight, appeared under her. She grunted in pain as the landing knocked the wind out of her, and fought to grab her saddle. After a few moments, oxygen filled her lungs, and she was able to sit correctly.

The sergeant turned her head around and grinned as she saw the damage the Harrier had taken. The top of the turret was gone, and the ship was on fire, with the crew frantically fighting the blaze. Soli looked around and let out a sigh of relief as she saw Jensen waving to her. The sergeant waved back, then paused as she saw Jensen pointing to her ear. Soli reached up, grabbing the cord to her earset and plugged it into the radio built into Rasha.

“…repeat, Destiny is under attack. A second group of airships coming from the north, flyers redeploy to counter attack. All flyers, all flyers, this is Wing Captain Edori, Destiny is under attack. A second group of airships coming from the north, flyers redeploy to counter attack…”

“Dammit,” Soli spat. She gestured for Jensen to take the lead as they disengaged from the battle. Destiny had its own escorting airships, but things had to be very bad for the carrier to pull its flyers out of a fight already going on. The sergeant scanned the skies behind her, looking for the enemy airships, wondering how many of them were too damaged to continue the fight. Most likely, not enough, she thought darkly.

----

Arias wiped blood from his nose, a savage smile lighting his face. The Merlin had held off another five attacks from the Drasvarian flyers, including a three man group that had tried to board them. The crew had been ready for the attacks, and the fighting was quick, brutal and one sided. He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to stiffen his resolve, then turned to the midshipwoman standing behind him.

“Yes, Ms. Fel?”

The young woman saluted, and handed him a piece of message paper. “Communications sent me to find you with a message from Raven.”

He took it, noticing the charring covering Fel’s gauntlet. “Thank you. By the way, Ms. Fel, any headaches from using your abilities?”

“No, sir,” she replied, shaking her head.

“Alright. First sign of one, I want you to head to the ship’s doctor. I’m more familiar with mageborn than most, young lady, and I don’t want you setting the Merlin on fire because you’ve got a headache. My first time on an airship, we had a fifteen year veteran who specialized in lightning. Extremely likable guy, very good at his work. Let a cold go by without mentioning it to anyone, starting hitting the ship with bolts everytime he sneezed.”

The midshipwoman laughed. “Alright sir, I’ll see the doctor if things change.” She saluted again and headed off to help with the ship repairs.

Arias smiled, proud of how the young woman had done in her first fight. She had been instrumental in dealing with the attackers, using her talents to pull any fires and redirect the flames off the ship.

He looked down at the message, and his smile widened. Raven’s formation of airships had managed to ambush the enemy air carrier after all. No reports on damage yet, but Raven’s captain reported that the enemy had no active flyers in the area. The plan had worked perfectly.

[SteamHammer]

Loving it. Keep it coming.

[TheOneWhoFell]

*grins* Awesome

[Absolution Black]

Brilliant....waiting to read more...

*waits*

[edonil]

Thanks everyone! Here's the next section, it's a bit different with the pacing, moving away from the combat stuff to some world/plot building.

“A moment of your time, Admiral Niles?” the quiet voice said.

The Drasvarian admiral looked up from the reports on his desk, an expression of mild annoyance on his weathered face. As he saw his visitor framed in the doorway, he leapt to his feet, bowing in haste. “Of course, Lord Enchanter Marx. What can I do for you?”

The mage stepped into the office, boots clicking on the wooden floor. Niles noted that Marx looked haggard, and wondered how much worse he looked. Neither the ruling council nor the heads of the Drasvarian military had gotten much sleep since the war had started. The fighting had been violent, bloody, almost inhuman at times, but it was necessary. Drasvar’s enemies had made it clear that annihilation was the only acceptable conclusion when they had razed the city of Newedge to the ground. The survivors from that horrendous act were few, but if the enemy had intended to break Drasvar’s will, they had failed miserably.

“I was wondering if you could tell me how the war is progressing.”

The admiral hesitated. “I’m due to give a report to the council shortly, Lord Enchanter.”

Marx waved his hand to the side. “I know. I want to hear your honest assessment. No political doubletalk, no worrying about offending my sensibilities. There’s no one here who will leak anything to the population at large and stir a panic. What’s really going on?”

Niles chewed on his moustache nervously, then nodded. “Alright. To be perfectly honest, the war isn’t going well. We held off the initial attacks at the beginning of this mess, and our counter-attack caught our opponents off guard. I don’t think they were expecting we’d launch a multi-front campaign into their territory so shortly after being attacked ourselves, but that element of surprise is gone.”

He started to pace the office, brow furrowed in thought. “We’re making good progress over most of the globe, but that’s slowly changing. The Assarian front has stalled completely. The loss of Destiny and her battlegroup was a massive blow, and right now, I’m just trying to find ways to keep it from becoming a rout. Our advantage has always been in the air, and these new airships that were deployed against us threaten that heavily. Based on all the reports I’ve read, the technology is still years behind ours, but the application of it is ingenious, and will become a problem if they get the chance to apply it to larger airships. Additionally, the majority of our strategic assets on that front that are left are naval, and we’re much weaker than Assar in that regard. If something doesn’t change, we’ll be losing ground rapidly in that area.

“Our best strikes have been at the eastern continent, against Victrix and Telios. The air carriers Ascension and Triumph have taken over the skies, and their unopposed support of our naval forces in the area let us start landing troops earlier this week. They’ll be driving for the respected capitals once the armies have landed.”

Niles shrugged. “The other fronts are somewhere in between. Losses haven’t been as bad as they could be, but then, our victories haven’t been as strong as they could be.”

“What can we do to fix that?” Marx asked.

“I’m not sure that there is anything that can be done about it,” the admiral said bluntly. “The world has never seen a war like this, Lord Enchanter. I’m not sure it’s even possible to predict what might tip things in our favor.”

“What if we were to accelerate the military training of our students at the Academy?”

The admiral stopped his pacing and turned to the mage. “Is that possible?”

“It’s a risk, but it’s one that the council could be convinced to take, if you think it will work.”

“It might work.” The admiral tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. “Yes, that might work very well. With so few mages elsewhere in the world, if we could organize a unit of them, maybe even a company, we’d be able to deploy them at specific fights around the world, rather than integrating them into the whole.”

A knock at the door interrupted the admiral’s thought process and spun him around to glare at the trembling ensign who stood there. “What?” he snapped.

The unfortunate young man saluted, his face admirably blank. “Message for you sir.”

The admiral snatched the piece of paper, and started reading it. Anger was replaced by disbelief, then by excitement. If this was true…of course it was! An unconfirmed report of this nature wouldn’t have been passed to him. “Well, Lord Enchanter,” he grinned. “It seems I do have some good news for you today. The flyers of Destiny have returned home! They landed in the northern airfield just a half hour ago.”

“Really?” Marx asked, a smile lighting his face. “Astounding! Come, Admiral Niles, let’s go greet our heroes.”

----

Niles walked out onto the airfield, heading straight for the huddled group of flyers and pilots. He smiled broadly as he saw them, although inwardly he cringed. Too few of them, far too few. Still, that any had made it home was a miracle, and he wasn’t about to complain too much.

One of the airfield crew noticed him, and scrambled to his feet to salute. The others in the group did the same, although the pilots, covered in dirt and burns, their uniforms torn and sun-bleached, did so with much less energy. He returned the salute as he stopped right out of the circle of soldiers.

“At ease. Welcome home, Destiny flyers. You have no idea how glad we are to see you,” he said. He could see in their eyes both pride and horror as he greeted them, and he understood. Pride in surviving to return home, and horror for being the only members of their unit to make it through the hell of war.

A young woman in the leather and plate armor of a pilot stepped forward, her gait the strange pattern of a person stuck in the saddle for a long time. Dried blood from a cut across her forehead covered her face in a grotesque mask, but her green eyes were clear, if exhausted. “Thank you, Admiral,” she croaked. She coughed into her hand, then continued in a more normal voice. “It’s good to be home. I’m Sergeant Soli Navin, senior member of the survivors.”

“You’re the most senior, sergeant?” he repeated, unable to believe his ears. “None of your officers survived?”

“Wing Captain Edori is alive, sir, but he’s unconscious. We managed to get a few of the crew off the carrier before it crashed, but not many. Mostly we’ve got pilots.” She swayed slightly on her feet, and one of the other pilots grabbed her arm to steady her. Soli smiled at the other pilot, then squared her shoulders as Niles looked on with concern. “Sir, my pilots and I are exhausted from all the flying, and a lot of us could use a doctor. If you wouldn’t mind, could we continue my debriefing later?”

“Of course, sergeant,” Niles said, chastising himself for not bringing a doctor along. He turned to one of the flight crew. “Mechanic, go fetch some doctors, then arrange for a place for these soldiers to sleep.”

“That’s not necessary, Admiral,” Lord Enchanter Marx said. “I’ve contacted one of my colleagues back at the surgery, there are doctors on the way.”

“Thank you, milord,” Sergeant Soli said, bowing stiffly with assistance. “We appreciate it.”

“It’s the least we can do, sergeant,” the mage replied. “You’ve been through hell and come back for us, we owe you a debt.” The mage bowed, courtly and proper. “You have my gratitude, and the thanks of your nation. The council will be eager to hear your story once you’re feeling better.”

“Of course, Lord Enchanter.”

[TheOneWhoFell]

I like it... the politics are intreaging... I'm glad Soli (and I'm assuming Jennsen (sp)) survived... They were well written from the start, and I like them as characters.

So... Here are some question for you (that I don't want the answers to, because I want to find out while I'm reading... but they'll be good for you to think about): Who are the Bad guys? Who do you want your readers to like? Who do you wany your readers to hate? Is it your intent to allow the reader to know everything you know (be omniscinet) or are you going to hide details from them (not like the battle for the Destiny, but good guy/bad guy details)?

I'm really enjoying it, and can't wait to see what you do with it

[Absolution Black]

I can only echo Fells sentiments as i agree with everything she said!

It will be interesting to see who develops as the bad guys....

or maybe there isn't that clear a definition?

[edonil]

Thanks Abs and Fell! I'm going to hold off on clearly defining the bad guys for a little while...if I ever clearly define them! In the meantime, here's another section:

Arias looked up from his conversation as the door to the briefing room opened. The gold star of a commodore gleamed from the collar of the officer that entered, and Arias snapped to attention with the rest of the captains in the room. The commodore’s brown eyes flicked around the room for a moment, examining the occupants. “At ease and have a seat,” she said.

Arias dropped into his chair sideways, arm hanging over the back, and grinned at his friend, Mage-Captain Matthias Wintertide, who sighed and rolled his eyes. The mage leaned over, and whispered, “Would it kill you to take a briefing seriously for once?”

“Oh please,” the captain retorted. “I don’t get to act like this in front of my soldiers, indulge me once in a while.”

Wintertide snorted, and leaned onto the table as the commodore, one Alexia Kerwin began the briefing.

“With the destruction of the enemy air carrier, thanks to Captain Falmarin and the Huntsmen squadron,” she paused at the quiet applause from the corners of the room, frowning. Her frown disappeared as Arias stood and bowed theatrically, prompting laughter as he returned to his seat. “As I was saying, we have finally achieved air superiority thanks to the destruction of the Drasvarian air carrier. Our navy has pushed their forces back hard, driving them further and further from our coastlines. The King wants us to try to turn this into an offensive, rather than a holding action. As such, His Majesty’s air corps has been given an unusual mission. We’re going to try to capture an air carrier intact enough to study, and, hopefully, use ourselves, as a preface to a full on fleet invasion.”

Arias sat straight up, excitement thrumming in his veins. “Now, isn’t that interesting,” he murmured.

“Commodore, hasn’t that been tried before? It’s never worked in the past,” a voice said from the back, to a slight chorus of assent. Arias rolled his eyes at the lack of imagination. Some people were so used to being at a disadvantage, they didn’t seem to want to change it.

“No one’s been able to take down an air carrier without throwing an entire fleet at the thing, either,” the commodore replied. “And yet, we pulled that off just a few weeks ago. This isn’t a question of if it’s possible, ladies and gentlemen. This briefing is to let you know it’s going to happen. The Huntsmen squadrons will form the core of the attack, although we’ll be reinforcing you with a few older airships.We’ve also got a few of the new aeroplanes available, so you’ll have air cover from the fleet. Can anyone else think of anything they’d like to see in support?”

Arias raised his hand. “Commodore, any chance that we can get some more marines on the Huntsmen? We had more than a few problems with boarders in our first run with them, most of our losses were to the flyers.”

“Marines are, unfortunately, needed more in the navy right now, Captain.”

Arias frowned. “If this mission has this much importance, couldn’t we get some extra help?”

The commodore sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Captain, I’d love to get this operation together with an ideal amount of troops, but that’s not going to happen. I may be able to get some regular army for you, but the fleet has been given priority as far as our marines are concerned.”

Arias leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “Very well, ma’am.”

“Ma’am, do we know when this is going to happen? Or where we’ll be making the attack?” Wintertide asked.

“No details are being given out right now, Mage-Captain. Your crews and ships will be staying here at Eastern Command running drills and war games in the meantime. Any other questions?”

-----

“This is the problem with doing the impossible, Wintertide,” Arias said, staring into a mug of hot chocolate. The two friends were in Wintertide’s quarters in the barracks, sitting in his study.

“What’s that?” Wintertide asked, holding his chilled bottle of ale against his forehead. Arias shook his head at the mage. It was midsummer in Assar, but Wintertide never drank anything warm unless he wanted to. Damn mages, Arias thought with the slightest hint of jealousy.

“You do the impossible once, they expect that you can do it again.” The captain sipped from his mug, letting out a contented sigh. His expression grew grave once again. “We finally take out an air carrier. First time we’ve ever done it. Oh, the Victrixes have pulled it off a few times, although those were brutal affairs. And there’s been those rumors that that mercenary company, the Dragoons, managed to drive one off. Of course, they hardly exist as a unit anymore. But Assar? We’ve always had to run from the damn things. And now that we finally kill one, they pull this on us!”

“Don’t you think we can do it?” Wintertide asked, grey eyes narrowed in thought.

“If they gave us those marines? Maybe. But as it stands?” Arias shook his head. “We’re going to lose a ton of men trying it. You were there, I read your report. The only one of the Huntsmen to get close to the ship was Osprey, and she got butchered. Barely had enough people left alive to make it home. And that was with raptors! What are we going to do against dragons, hm?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually,” Wintertide said.

“Oh? Had any epiphanies on the matter?”

“A few possibilities,” Wintertide said, drinking some of his ale. “The dragons are scary because they can light our ships on fire. That high up, we’re just so much kindling if things go wrong.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Arias said glumly.

“But,” Wintertide said with a glare. “What if we were to cover the decks in water beforehand? There’s a lot of moisture up there, and we’ve got at least a mage on every ship, it shouldn’t be too hard to get a coating over them. It won’t help a ton, but it’ll lower the chances of ships just erupting into flame.”

Arias stroked his goatee thoughtfully. “That might work. Although, aren’t most of our mages fire and lightning specialists? Can you retrain them in time?”

“It won’t be too hard. The basics of magic are all the same, it’ll just take some practice.”

“Alright then.” The captain shrugged. “It’s worth a shot. I just wish we could think of some way to take them down quickly.” He pushed his chair back on two legs, taking another sip of the warm liquid as he propped his boots onto the coffee table.

“Hey! Feet off the table, if you don’t mind,” Wintertide protested.

“This is far more comfortable,” Arias disagreed. He leaned back, eyes closed, and listened to the quiet sound of the rain hitting the windows. The soothing sound helped ease his mood, reminding him of his childhood home. He took another sip of his drink, and immediately spat it out, surprise prompting him to shove backwards, and fall over. Cold liquid, freezing cold, dumped all over his uniform.

Wintertide howled with laughter, doubling over and nearly spilling his own drink. Arias disentangled himself from the chair on the floor, chocolate dripping from his uniform, and he glared at his friend. “What was that for?” he demanded.

“I warned you to take your feet off the table,” Wintertide said as he got his mirth under control.

“Oh, like hell you did! What kind of a warning was that?!”

The mage just started laughing again, and Arias shook his head, setting the empty mug on the table. “What a waste,” he lamented, staring down at his stained clothes sadly. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get hot chocolate out here? I hate it when you do that!”

“Oh get over it,” Wintertide said with a grin. “The number of pranks you played on me when we were midshipmen, I owe you plenty.”

“See, now that’s a warning,” Arias congratulated. “I still would love to know how you can pull that kind of stuff off, it’d be handy to have as a skill.”

“Sorry, trade secrets,” the mage said, unsuccessfully hiding his smile behind his drink.

“That’s it!” Arias said, pointing fiercely at his friend. “I’m going to have Ms. Fel light your jacket on fire! Just you wait.”

“Good luck,” Matthias snorted. “The young woman’s sweet, and a good mage, but she’s got nowhere near my level of experience. Besides, if she pulls it off, I’ll drag a cloud onto your head and leave it there.” The mage’s eyes widened, and Arias bit off his retort as he saw a familiar gleam enter those eyes.

“Actually…that might work very well,” the mage said slowly.

“What might work well? What the devil are you talking about, Wintertide?”

“Think about it! Before the Huntsmen, what was the one place we could always equalize their superiority in the air?”

Arias stared at his friend blankly, then shook his head. Damn mages and their games. “Look, I’m sure you’ve just had a brilliant idea strike you like a lightning bolt, but I don’t have a clue…” His words trailed off, and brown eyes widened in shock. “By God, do you think it could work?” Arias demanded.

“I don’t see why not. Magic is just science without the use of a machine…and with all the fire, lightning and water specialists in the air corps working together, it should be possible. Their flyers aren’t any better than what we can throw at them in a storm, and we’ve always been more aggressive in bad weather, we’ve had to be!”

“Now all we need to do is see if we can pull it off, and how well the new designs can work in a storm,” Arias murmured. Abruptly, he picked up the chair from the floor, nearly slamming it upright in his rush. “Come on, let’s get going!” he said, adrenaline filling his veins as he grabbed his coat and pulled it on.

“Where exactly are we going?” Wintertide asked cautiously.

“To see Commodore Kerwin, we might as well get started on this now.” The captain tugged open the door and dramatically waved his hand to the outer world. “After all, we have a real storm, don’t we? Let’s take advantage of it!”

[TheOneWhoFell]

Very nice, Edonil! I like the banter... and the conversation was well writen. Can't wait to read more

[edonil]

And the muse kept on wanting to write...she was apparently in a good mood today. Here's yet another section. Currently at 7,300 words.

Soli stepped into the private box of the arena and looked around curiously. The room was expensively furnished, with electric lanterns softly lighting the interior. The soft carpet underfoot felt wonderful between her toes, and she felt a brief sense of satisfaction at deciding to wear sandals after all. After the months in uniform while at sea with the Destiny, it felt strange wearing a dress again, but the soft silk garment caressing her skin convinced her she could get used to it for a little while at least. She caught sight of herself in the reflection from a silver shield on the wall, and stopped for a moment. Green eyes stared back at her from a tanned face framed by red hair, and she smiled, pleased with what she saw. -The last two sentences here are bugging the crap out of me...I want to describe her a little, but this just feels awkward. Any advice on a better way to do it would be appreciated.

“Sergeant Navin, I’m glad you could make it,” the occupant of the box said, standing.

She curtsied, and held out her hand, the old forms from childhood returning as if she’d never left the inner circles of the country. Lord Enchanter Marx took her hand gently and kissed the back of it. “Thank you for inviting me, my lord. It’s most kind of you.”

“Nonsense. A lovely young woman such as yourself accepting my invitation is far more kind. Since my wife passed away and my children have grown, I usually tend to watch the championship matches alone. It’s much more pleasurable with guests.”

“I haven’t gotten to see any matches since joining the military,” she admitted. “Not a lot of time off, unfortunately.”

“Well, you’ve done great work at the front lines, and it’s greatly appreciated. Enjoy your time here while you can.” A bell sounded from in the field. “Ah! The first match is starting.” The mage led her over to a set of chairs and gestured for her to sit down, which she did gladly. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening as the first duel started, and she leaned forward eagerly.

The two fighters in the arena burst into action. They were both armed with knives, carefully blunted to prevent injury, and she sat enthralled by the flash of steel. It had been many years indeed since she last saw the Dance, and she hadn’t quite realized how much she missed it. The combatants were masters of their craft, dueling until one of them yielded and the fight was beautiful.

The Dance was the national sport of Drasvar, portraying both their fascination with beauty and showing the military roots of their nation. The best fighters of various styles competed yearly, showing their skills and sharing their art. Soli wondered briefly how many of the fighters down there would be able to survive the chaos of war compared to the structure of the competition. Not many of them, she guessed. There was a big difference between the life and death struggle of war and fighting for honor.

Still, she respected the talent shown here, and as the fights went on, she found herself enjoying it even more. Marx was a gracious host, eager to discuss with her the matches or whatever else came to mind, and she was surprised at the topics he drew from her. After the third match, he got up and poured wine into a pair of gorgeous crystal glasses.

“Tell me, Sergeant,” Marx said. “How much do you keep in contact with your family? I’m sure they must be proud of you, and your willingness to serve Drasvar.”

She hesitated before answering, running her finger around the rim of her wineglass. “I’m sure they are,” she finally said diplomatically. “However, my family and I don’t keep in touch.”

“What? Why not, if you don’t mind me asking?”

A faint smile touched her lips, although she was anything but amused. The pain was something she kept buried deep inside, but oh how it still hurt. “I’m sure you know the Navin family, Lord Enchanter. A long tradition of service to the council. Sadly, the tradition is a service as a mage, not a soldier.”

The confusion in Marx’s eyes disappeared at the last sentence, and her bitter smile did as well. “I am the first of my family in three generations to show no magical interest. Talent, I had plenty of that. No one in my family has ever not had the talent, we’re almost bred for it. But my decision to turn to the martial arts rather than the magical has created a deep gap in any relationship with my family. They’re very rightly proud of the tradition, and none of them could understand why I didn’t want what they wanted for me.” The wineglass trembled slightly in her hand, and she stared sightlessly at it, unable to not hear her mother’s voice in her ears, or see the disappointment in the face of her father.

The touch on her left hand startled her, and she jerked away from it instinctively. Looking up, she saw the mage looking at her sadly. “I’m sorry, Soli. It is a sad fact of the mage families of our country, we expect so much of them that anything other than that tradition is so anathema. It doesn’t make it any easier for those of our children who want nothing to do with it. My own son is much like you, and joined the army at a young age. I didn’t understand at the time, and though we’ve since restored our relationship, it was painful for both of us for a number of years.

“Why didn’t you want to learn magic?” he asked gently.

She shrugged. “It wasn’t at all interesting to me. But the Dance…that filled my mind. The graceful display of art and balance, in an arena that only the best could enter- it was quite a dream to a young child who wanted nothing more than to be graceful and beautiful.” She laughed gently. “Of course, now that I’ve served on the front lines, I’ve regretted that choice more than a few times.”

“If you were given the chance to learn now, would you take it?”

She looked at him quizzically. “Some of it, perhaps. But I certainly don’t have the time. We need every good pilot we can get on the front lines.”

He smiled broadly, and her confusion deepened. “Perfect. Well, my dear, if you want to learn, you’ll have a lot of time in the future with your new assignment.”

She shifted toward him in her seat. “My new assignment? And why would I have a lot of time to do anything?” Her voice grew hard. “I hope you don’t intend to pull me from my unit, milord! They need me, and I’ll be more useful out there than I’d be stuck here in the country.”

He laughed. “No, you’ll be remaining out on the front, don’t worry about that. We’re organizing a brand new unit, and we’ve been looking for a commander for it. If you want the job, it’s yours.” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth. “Before you start asking any questions, let me explain some of it. The world is changing, although few on the council are willing to admit it. More importantly, the war is changing, and it’s not in our favor. Something is needed to change the direction the balance is shifting, especially on the Assarian front you just left.

“As a member of the Council, I have little that I can do to directly impact the war. However, as Lord Enchanter and head of the Academy, I have much more that I can do. Our most advanced students are going to be graduating early, and, being blunt, we’re turning them into weapons. Once they receive the most basic military training to prepare them for their role, we’ll be assigning them to the newest of our air carriers, the Aegis. They’re going to need an experienced team of flyers to finish their training, and protect them so they can accomplish their objectives. I want you to head that team of flyers.”

Soli’s mouth dropped open, and her brain scrambled like an animal on ice for a few moments. “You want me?” she squeaked. “But, that doesn’t make any sense. I’m no Wing Captain, I’m just a sergeant!”

“True. But you have something no other officer has right now- experience against the new Assarian airships. And trust me, Assar is the first place you’d be going. That gives you a unique perspective on all of this, and we want to take advantage of that. And we can get you trained for the job. If you want, we can even train you in the magical arts. The question for you, is do you want it?”

Thoughts warred through her head. It was everything she had ever wanted. The chance to serve her home the way she wanted to, an advancement in rank…and, a quiet voice spoke up, a chance to maybe, finally, connect with her family. She looked down, eyes troubled, and then met his eyes. “Yes, milord. I do want it."

[SteamHammer]

Another good chapter. As for the sentences that you're unhappy with, can you break them up? Mention her hair while talking about the dress (maybe wearing it loose rather than tied up while on service) and then her eyes later on in the chapter. Perhaps Marx comments on her tanned skin.

[edonil]

Thanks for the advice Steam, that might work pretty well, I'll give that a go when I get around to revising the scene. Here's another section:

Colonel Lukas Faulkner of the Victrix Army studied the map in front of him intently. Why, he wondered, would Drasvar be coming here? The mountainside formation of rocks, known as the Dragon’s Teeth to the locals, were certainly a cultural symbol for his countrymen. In some ways, it even had some minor strategic value. But while the majority of the Drasvarian army that had landed two weeks earlier had pushed toward the capital, a significant portion of the enemy forces had come here. And, if reports were to be believed, most of the Drasvar witches were coming here from the coastline. It made no sense.

He sat down in frustration, rubbing his temples. Exhaustion was overwhelming him, the preparations for the fight taking their toll on his mind. There just had to be something here they wanted. If only he could figure out what it was, he might be able to destroy it before they overran his forces. He had no doubt that his was a lost battle. The only thing his men had to keep them going was the knowledge that their deaths would mean something, and that was what he told them. Too bad he didn’t believe it himself.

Faulkner stood abruptly, picking up a sealed envelope from his desk. He gazed at it sadly, then wrote the name of his wife, Emily, on it. With luck, the messenger would be able to make it past the approaching army, along with the last letters home from the rest of his soldiers. He grabbed his hat and coat, pulling them on as he stepped into the rain. It was a short walk to the battlements, and he spent a few moments talking quietly to the sentries as he headed to his destination. The sentries were young, barely older than his eldest son, but they showed little of their fear, joking with him and each other. They were little more than boys, but the war had left no room for children. One became a veteran or became a corpse, and they had survived so far.

He left them with a few words of encouragement, but merely a few moments later, his tired mind couldn’t remember what he’d said. All he could remember was that they had smiled and laughed…and that the mirth didn’t reach their eyes. Lightning flashed off in the distance, and he grinned bitterly. At least the Drasvarians wouldn’t be comfortable tonight, not in this storm. He continued his pace, finding his way to the main gatehouse.

It was a short stop in the small room. The colonel gave his letter to the messenger, a boy still in his teens, and told him who it was. The boy nodded his head, and carefully placed the letter in a water proofed bag, marking something down in code into a small notebook he carried. Faulkner thanked him, and moved aside to let the next soldier in line step forward with an envelope in hand.

The colonel stepped back out into the rain, and started walking the walls with a new purpose. In only a few days at most, there would be an army sitting beyond them. It was difficult to see anything beyond a few feet, but every once in a while, lightning would brighten the sky, revealing the harsh terrain. His eyes stung each time, but he grimly forced himself to continue his work. Everything he could learn would mean a few more Drasvarian dead, and he was tired of studying maps. Lightning flashed again, and he jumped as the burst of light revealed a slim man dressed in grey next to him.

“Blood and hellfire, Waechter! I hate when you do that,” he complained. “Do you really need to keep showing off that little trick?”

The middle aged man merely smiled, eyes sparkling beneath the hood of his cloak. “Tis good to keep in practice, sir,” he replied lightly. “Not much use for stealth skills here on the wall, so my men and I take what we can get. The fact that you lot are the only ones we can practice with…well, tis hardly my fault that the Drasvarians ain’t seen fit to grace us with their lovely presence. Especially those witches of theirs, Bertha and I got a few bullets itching for an introduction.”

Captain Adler Waechter, commander of the fort’s Witch Hunters, was an intimidating man, for all that he barely came to the colonel’s shoulder. There was something unnerving about all the Hunters. It was probably their constant flirting with magic in their line of work, Faulkner reflected. But even though the Hunters were strange as a whole, the local commander stood out even amongst his own. Most snipers, Hunters or not, tended to be reserved, quiet men. Waechter was energetic, with a lively, if bizarre, sense of humor. He also loved his work, eagerly tracking down any who sought to manipulate the laws of nature with arcane power.

The colonel arched his eyebrow, fighting a smile. “Waechter, there’s something wrong with you.”

“Oh? You been talkin’ to my mom? She was always saying something like that. Come to think, so does everyone else.” The sprightly man tapped a finger to his chin. “Mayhaps they have a point. That many people can’t all be completely wrong, so they say.” He shrugged. “Not that it matters much to me. So, what brings you to the wall? I’d say it wasn’t to enjoy the fine weather.”

“I was dropping off a letter. Now, I’m trying to get a better feel for the terrain.”

“Ain’t you done that enough already, sir? Only gonna drive yourself crazy if you keep this up.” Waechter grinned and winked. “Asides, there’s only enough room in the fort for one mad hatter, if you take my drift. Go get some sleep, I’ll be sure you know if our party guests show up early.”

Faulkner laughed in spite of himself. “Alright, Waechter. I’ll try to see if I can.” He started to step away, then stopped, holding his hand out to the other man. “I want to make sure you know, it’s been an honor and a pleasure, Captain.”

The Witch Hunter stared at the hand for a moment, eyes strange. “Don’t count yourself dead just yet,” he said seriously. “I don’t know about you, but I intend to not die to those damn witches. No honor in it, that’s for sure.” He hesitated a moment longer, then reached out and grasped the colonel’s hand. “But aye, it has been a good time, hasn’t it?” He let go, then nodded. “Good night, Colonel.”

Faulkner nodded, then began the walk back to his quarters, disquieted. Something seemed off about Waechter, but he couldn’t place it. He shrugged. Perhaps it was just that the captain had been serious for the first time since he’d known him. He hoped that the captain would be able to survive the coming battle, along with all his soldiers. The world would be a poorer place without the bravery of the men guarding this fort.

Edited October 10, 2011 by edonil
Yay typos...Thanks Steam, for point them out!

[SteamHammer]

Another chapter and another interesting front in the conflict. Keep it coming.

There were a few typos at the start though if you want to edit them away.

[Absolution Black]

Loved the last two parts Edonil, especially the latest one...

You are building a very strong set of characters already, and thankfully, not too many as yet so its easy to keep track!

And considering the lack of action so far, the story has got me hooked into reading more, the build up is very engrossing!

[edonil]

And another section...short this time. At 9,463 words.

“Stop!” Wintertide commanded, voice echoing across the practice yard. “Take a break, ladies and gentlemen. Ensign Fel, come over here, if you don’t mind.”

The mages ceased their work, some of them sitting on the ground in exhaustion, others pulling out skins of water. They had been working for hours on their project, and made some progress, at least as far as Arias could see. They were able to create clouds and make them stable, at least. But getting the conditions just right for a storm seemed to be proving more difficult to his untrained eye.

Wintertide stood watching the group, hands behind his back. His teaching partner, Alexis Stormhand, walked amongst their students, stopping to talk to each of them briefly. Probably offering advice, Arias thought. He had been fascinated by the displays of magic, but Wintertide never seemed satisfied. He knew his friend was a stern taskmaster, but hearing it from the soldiers and seeing it were two different things.

Ensign Fel, recently promoted after her actions in the battle for the Destiny, walked over, red hair ruffled and matted with sweat. She was obviously tiring, and Arias could understand why. The ensign’s role, as far as he understood the lecture, was to heat the clouds that were made. After that point, the instructions from Stormhand and Wintertide stopped making sense, going into details of the weather that the captain of the Merlin certainly wasn’t familiar with.

“Yes, sir?” she said.

“You’re still putting too much heat into it, girl,” Wintertide said, his voice stern. The girl seemed to shrink for a moment at his tone. He continued in the same voice, “You’re trying to heat the vapor in the clouds evenly, not flash boil it so that it stops being a cloud.”

“Sorry, sir. I’m just not used to needing this much control,” the ensign said quietly.

“I know you aren’t,” the older mage said, his voice softening some. “But you’re going to need it for this. The squadron needs you to learn this kind of control. Now, you’ve been using your gauntlet, correct? Snapping your fingers, metal on metal to throw a spark off so you can grow a flame?”

“Yes, captain. It’s the way I was taught.”

“Hm. Your gauntlet is good for creating a quick flare to throw out a blast of flame, but it’s not well suited for this. If you try that, you’ll get exactly what you’re doing. Here, let me see it.” She gave him an uncertain look, hesitating. He laughed lightly. “Don’t worry, girl, I’ll give it back to you.”

Mutely, she unbuckled the piece of armor and handed it to him. He smiled and held out his hand level to the ground. “Alright, now, I want you to create heat. No sparks, no tricks, just make the air above your hand warmer. Put your hand under mine, and concentrate.”

She complied, brow furrowing. Arias watched, unsure exactly what was going on. Mages and their tricks, he thought as he shook his head. A dozen heartbeats…a minute…two minutes, and all he saw was sweat beading her brow. Suddenly, Wintertide grinned.

“There you go!” he said encouragingly. “Now, hold it there, that’s a good general heat for this.” He withdrew his hand, holding his palm perpendicular to hers. A few moments later, Arias could see the beginnings of a cloud forming over Fel’s hand. It wasn’t long afterwards before the cloud turn the ugly dark grey of a storm cloud.

“And that’s how it’s supposed to work,” Wintertide said. He waved his hand through the cloud, dissipating it, then handed her back the gauntlet. “Alright, go get some water, ensign. We’ll be getting back into this in another ten minutes.”

Fel saluted, then rejoined the group. Arias watched her walk off, and shook his head, turning to his friend. “I hate you mages,” he said solemnly.

Wintertide looked startled. “What? Why?”

“You just made a mini thunderstorm in less than five minutes, and I don’t have a clue how you pulled it off,” Arias said. “I’m starting to get why Victrix is freaked out by you guys.”

“Am I going to need to worry about you trying to knife me in my sleep?”

“Oh, not at all. You’re all too useful for that. I’m just saying, I can understand why someone would be terrified of you.” He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded to the group of mages. “So, how long do you think until they’re ready?”

“Probably another month. Once they get it figured out in pairs, we’ll work on combining it as a group. The most difficult thing will be getting it to work over a wide distance, but, in theory, it should be possible.”

“Good. The war is getting uglier, my friend. The sooner we can get back into it, the better I’ll be able to sleep. I feel useless just sitting here waiting for your trainees to get ready.”

Wintertide nodded. “I know. I’ll do my best to speed this up, but I’m not sure I can. Not without unnecessary risks. This has the potential to be dangerous enough if we do it right, I don’t want to think about what could happen if it goes wrong.”

“Alright.” Arias turned to leave, lifting his arm in a wave. “Don’t mind me, I’ve seen enough of you lot messing around with the forces of nature for a while. I’m going to see if I can find some unlucky soldier to beat on for a little while at the practice courts.”

Edited October 10, 2011 by edonil