This is a story I'll be writing over time, it will have some pictures, not many though. It is mostly MC but it has things like moving ships and all that nice stuff. Onwards, to glory!
Prologue
The Hibernian was sailing off the coast of Point Wither, eight bells in the morning watch had struck and the hourglass was set for noon as the midshipmen gauged the time. The new watch was on deck, and the Hibernian cut through the gloomy day, fog engulfing her, with poor visibility.
The whistles of the bosun's mates twittered out orders, quartermasters kept their burly hands on the wheel and their eyes on the binnacle, and the officers huddled on the tall poop deck, with their spyglasses trained into the unrelenting fog.
The Hibernian was a fine, 74 gun Third Rate, which had been sailing upon Decimatia's coast for the past month. Her captain, James Hammerfiend, was a fair man who inspired loyalty and servitude. He was on deck when one of the crew shouted 'Quiet! I hear bells!'
The entire crew shut up fast as you like, all ears trained for the sorrowful note of a bell. There it came again! Two strokes, and two more right after. Ships were notifying each other where they were!
'Captain!' Said the first lieutenant, Mr. Bowles. 'We're right in the middle of a fleet!'
As if to confirm the worried man's words, a huge, red-sided Decimatian 100-gunner slid past forty meters away, oblivious to the Hibernian
Captain Hammerfiend made the glance to the sides that only captains can do, a glimmer of fear showing in his wide eyes, his hands on the poop's rail, his coat falling limp on his shoulders.
'Shall we beat to quarters, sir?' said Bowles.
'Yes, but do it quietly, I don't want those ports to make a single bump!'
The petty officers rushed about, getting the men below to the guns and organizing sharpshooters to go aloft. The gun ports started opening in a slow fashion. A thud was heard in the bow as a gun port slammed up, followed by a curse from an officer and a muffled cry of pain. Then the guns started rolling out, port and starboard, with their laborous clanking dulled to be as silent as is possible with a piece of iron weighing several tonnes.
After that, the entire ship fell silent, surrounded by Decimatian calls and bells. The officers peered at the fog on both sides, and the gunners waited anxiously to pull the flints on their huge rectangular guns.
'There, sir!' said an excited officer, and not thirty meters away a Decimation 36-gunner was looming out of the fog on the port side.
'Wait till she's in your sights!' called the officers quietly.
Then, after a year of waiting, the stern-most gun roared out it's heavy shot, followed by the next gun, and the next. The Decimatian frigate tried to turn out of it and head to port, causing it to move faster over the sides of the Hibernian. The gunners saw their chance and the rest of the guns roared and rocked back into the ship.
The Decimatian frigate was turning slowly to port, turning away from the battle while her men shouted and ran up signal lanterns.
'Very good, Mr. Bowles. Let's go hard to port and get after that-'
The Captain was interupted by one of the crew shouting 'Enemy ship to starboard!' just as a fifty shots slammed into the Hibernian, killing many of the gun crews and wounding countless others.
Hammerfiend glanced to port, where another 64 gunner was creeping up on the Hibernian, her frontmost cannons booming into the Hibernian's gunroom and lower cabin.
'Sir! Do we have orders, sir?' Shouted the second lieutenant from the upper gun deck. The Captain opened and closed his mouth, unable to form words. A single tear ran down his cheek as the helmsmen below were blasted to starboard by the portside ship.
The first lieutenant shouted 'Abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!' and the entire crew swarmed over the deck, diving off to the cold waters.
Hammerfiend and Bowles stayed behind.
'Allons-nous les terminer, monsieur?' said the first lieutenant of the Decimatian first rate.
'Non, ce serait déshonorant.' replied the Decimatian captain, looking at the two figures on the deck of his enemy's ship, the captain and his lieutenant. They seemed to be having a conversation, as their ship was destroyed by the frigate, the rigging snapping and spars falling. The two figures seemed to end their talk, they shook hands and stared ahead, just as the main magazine in the hold exploded in a spectacular display, snapping the ship in half and throwing debris into the sea. The Hibernian was now no more.
'Repêcher les survivants, puis continuez.' said the Captain, made the sign of the Builder on his chest, then turned away.
Prologue
The Hibernian was sailing off the coast of Point Wither, eight bells in the morning watch had struck and the hourglass was set for noon as the midshipmen gauged the time. The new watch was on deck, and the Hibernian cut through the gloomy day, fog engulfing her, with poor visibility.
The whistles of the bosun's mates twittered out orders, quartermasters kept their burly hands on the wheel and their eyes on the binnacle, and the officers huddled on the tall poop deck, with their spyglasses trained into the unrelenting fog.
The Hibernian was a fine, 74 gun Third Rate, which had been sailing upon Decimatia's coast for the past month. Her captain, James Hammerfiend, was a fair man who inspired loyalty and servitude. He was on deck when one of the crew shouted 'Quiet! I hear bells!'
The entire crew shut up fast as you like, all ears trained for the sorrowful note of a bell. There it came again! Two strokes, and two more right after. Ships were notifying each other where they were!
'Captain!' Said the first lieutenant, Mr. Bowles. 'We're right in the middle of a fleet!'
As if to confirm the worried man's words, a huge, red-sided Decimatian 100-gunner slid past forty meters away, oblivious to the Hibernian
Captain Hammerfiend made the glance to the sides that only captains can do, a glimmer of fear showing in his wide eyes, his hands on the poop's rail, his coat falling limp on his shoulders.
'Shall we beat to quarters, sir?' said Bowles.
'Yes, but do it quietly, I don't want those ports to make a single bump!'
The petty officers rushed about, getting the men below to the guns and organizing sharpshooters to go aloft. The gun ports started opening in a slow fashion. A thud was heard in the bow as a gun port slammed up, followed by a curse from an officer and a muffled cry of pain. Then the guns started rolling out, port and starboard, with their laborous clanking dulled to be as silent as is possible with a piece of iron weighing several tonnes.
After that, the entire ship fell silent, surrounded by Decimatian calls and bells. The officers peered at the fog on both sides, and the gunners waited anxiously to pull the flints on their huge rectangular guns.
'There, sir!' said an excited officer, and not thirty meters away a Decimation 36-gunner was looming out of the fog on the port side.
'Wait till she's in your sights!' called the officers quietly.
Then, after a year of waiting, the stern-most gun roared out it's heavy shot, followed by the next gun, and the next. The Decimatian frigate tried to turn out of it and head to port, causing it to move faster over the sides of the Hibernian. The gunners saw their chance and the rest of the guns roared and rocked back into the ship.
The Decimatian frigate was turning slowly to port, turning away from the battle while her men shouted and ran up signal lanterns.
'Very good, Mr. Bowles. Let's go hard to port and get after that-'
The Captain was interupted by one of the crew shouting 'Enemy ship to starboard!' just as a fifty shots slammed into the Hibernian, killing many of the gun crews and wounding countless others.
Hammerfiend glanced to port, where another 64 gunner was creeping up on the Hibernian, her frontmost cannons booming into the Hibernian's gunroom and lower cabin.
'Sir! Do we have orders, sir?' Shouted the second lieutenant from the upper gun deck. The Captain opened and closed his mouth, unable to form words. A single tear ran down his cheek as the helmsmen below were blasted to starboard by the portside ship.
The first lieutenant shouted 'Abandon ship! All hands, abandon ship!' and the entire crew swarmed over the deck, diving off to the cold waters.
Hammerfiend and Bowles stayed behind.
'Allons-nous les terminer, monsieur?' said the first lieutenant of the Decimatian first rate.
'Non, ce serait déshonorant.' replied the Decimatian captain, looking at the two figures on the deck of his enemy's ship, the captain and his lieutenant. They seemed to be having a conversation, as their ship was destroyed by the frigate, the rigging snapping and spars falling. The two figures seemed to end their talk, they shook hands and stared ahead, just as the main magazine in the hold exploded in a spectacular display, snapping the ship in half and throwing debris into the sea. The Hibernian was now no more.
'Repêcher les survivants, puis continuez.' said the Captain, made the sign of the Builder on his chest, then turned away.