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Description
Weithyn of the house of Heisidel, Captain of His Radiance's Royal Ilvannan Navy Arrowship Fensymil (Stormseeker) was in a good mood. After six years never leaving sight of the coastline her ship was once again riding the waves of the open ocean. The wind, the spray, the smell and the sensation of the ship plowing through the waves were all exhilarating as it ever was on its own made all the finer by the fact that her ship was a living thing being handled by wind mages and expert mariners. But there was also the the thrill of the hunt.

For two centuries she'd served the High Kingdom at sea against the Corrupted Ones. She'd manned the lines, steered ship, helped the ship-tenders heal her vessels between fights, strengthened the shields and offensive spells, oversaw the guns and cut down more than her share of black hearted vermin and their pet wretches with bow, blade and boarding pike. One does not survive that long against the Dark Elves without mastering the ways of combat, let alone too centuries. Even so there was always a risk of falling and in her long life she saw too many beautiful ships of her crewmates, heroes, friends and in a few cases lovers fall.

Humans and Dwarves talked of "Wars" with the Drow but the High Elves knew better. There was one War between them and the world they sought to enslave, which had waged for four millennia. There were lulls in this war when either side was recovering its strength and they would at times that the enemy would feign charm and make their deals when direct force to take what they wanted could not be mustered. The rest of the world stayed free because the High Kingdom never forgot that they were at war. A war that could only end when the last of their degenerate kind lying still in a pool of his own tainted blood. Nor did she, and few things gave her the same thrill that laying waste to their fleets did.

But to that end she'd gotten a wonderful new tool: a dozen Infrastructural guns. They were not pretty, but they were quick firing, long ranged, accurate, clean and fired devastating explosive shells. Even the best Dwarven guns with strength and fire runes could not match them in anything other than weight of shot. She'd have to be conservative with her ammunition. If a bunch of bumbling Coldlanders who'd never sailed anything bigger than a rowboat two decades ago could use them successfully against the Corrupted Ones the thought of what the true masters of the sea could do with them was intoxicating.

Previous-Infrastructure: Part Two Hundred and Sixty Five
Next-Infrastructure: Part Two Hundred and Sixty Seven

Description
Weithyn of the house of Heisidel, Captain of His Radiance's Royal Ilvannan Navy Arrowship Fensymil (Stormseeker) was in a good mood. After six years never leaving sight of the coastline her ship was once again riding the waves of the open ocean. The wind, the spray, the smell and the sensation of the ship plowing through the waves were all exhilarating as it ever was on its own made all the finer by the fact that her ship was a living thing being handled by wind mages and expert mariners. But there was also the the thrill of the hunt.

For two centuries she'd served the High Kingdom at sea against the Corrupted Ones. She'd manned the lines, steered ship, helped the ship-tenders heal her vessels between fights, strengthened the shields and offensive spells, oversaw the guns and cut down more than her share of black hearted vermin and their pet wretches with bow, blade and boarding pike. One does not survive that long against the Dark Elves without mastering the ways of combat, let alone too centuries. Even so there was always a risk of falling and in her long life she saw too many beautiful ships of her crewmates, heroes, friends and in a few cases lovers fall.

Humans and Dwarves talked of "Wars" with the Drow but the High Elves knew better. There was one War between them and the world they sought to enslave, which had waged for four millennia. There were lulls in this war when either side was recovering its strength and they would at times that the enemy would feign charm and make their deals when direct force to take what they wanted could not be mustered. The rest of the world stayed free because the High Kingdom never forgot that they were at war. A war that could only end when the last of their degenerate kind lying still in a pool of his own tainted blood. Nor did she, and few things gave her the same thrill that laying waste to their fleets did.

But to that end she'd gotten a wonderful new tool: a dozen Infrastructural guns. They were not pretty, but they were quick firing, long ranged, accurate, clean and fired devastating explosive shells. Even the best Dwarven guns with strength and fire runes could not match them in anything other than weight of shot. She'd have to be conservative with her ammunition. If a bunch of bumbling Coldlanders who'd never sailed anything bigger than a rowboat two decades ago could use them successfully against the Corrupted Ones the thought of what the true masters of the sea could do with them was intoxicating.

Previous-Infrastructure: Part Two Hundred and Sixty Five
Next-Infrastructure: Part Two Hundred and Sixty Seven