The word of the battle had traveled quickly, already it had made it back to Proptor and was heading to London. It was called the Battle of Dragonscale, named by the British due it being their first encounter with dragons. The Saderans called it something different, the Battle of Protus, after a nearby village, but Dragonscale remained the popular name for British soldiers. No matter what it was called, one thing was certain, it had been a bloody affair.
Of the seven thousand infantry men the British had brought onto the battlefield, roughly six hundred died, almost entirely from the Saderan dragons. Additionally, a further eight hundred were wounded, though most were expected to make a full recovery.
The lancers had been able to avoid most casualties, due to their lesser numbers making them seem like less of a threat when compared to the infantry. Fifteen lancers were dead, twenty two wounded. Of those numbers four dead belonged to Jack's troop, including Guss.
As for the Saderans, their main force had been slaughtered during the battle. Bodies were still being counted up, but a rough estimate was around six thousand dead or otherwise incapacitated. Additionally, both of the Saderan dragons had been killed.
On paper, the battle was a resounding victory for the British, however it also revealed a great weakness that they had. British forces weren't prepared for dragons or generally any kind of force from the air, and it showed. If the Saderan commanders had decided to lead their attack with the dragon attacks, rather than a cavalry charge, then the battle may have ended in British defeat.
Ideas for how to effectively deal with dragons were being thrown around, the most prominent of which was to have artillery mounted on a modified carriage then use canister shot to ground the dragons before using armor piercing shells to kill them on the ground, but no one knew if they'd actually work. No one wanted to take the risk of trying to fight dragons again just for the sake of testing an idea.
It was this reason that an assault on Sadera itself was decided to be too costly.
General Alford instead decided to adopt a defensive strategy. While a British diplomat was sent to negotiate, Proptor was being fortified against potential attacks. Reinforcements were being brought in to replace British losses, and the port was being built up to modern standards. If negotiations failed to go through, the Empire would have a very difficult time at retaking Proptor.
While all of this was happening, Jack and his troop were given orders to continue their previous task of scouting out as much as they could of Falmart. Local maps were a good place to start, but often times they weren't the most accurate, thus Jack's troop had to verify their validity.
But before they could set out, Jack had something to do.
Carrying a shovel in one hand and a cloth wrapped body over his shoulder, he went to a spot outside the walls of Proptor. As far as Jack was aware, Guss didn't have any close family, or at least he'd never talked about them. Falmart was as good of a place as any other, at least it was beautiful.
Bryant came with him, carrying his own shovel, and helped him pick out the spot. Both men started digging in silence. When the grave was finished, Jack carefully set the body into it.
"Do you know any words?" Bryant quietly asked.
Jack shook his head.
"Maybe we could get one of the missionaries to-"
"No." Jack took a shaky breath. "He was our friend, we bury him ourselves."
Bryant nodded and looked into the grave. "Guss… I've known you for years, and while you've been a bloody pain sometimes..." He smiled sadly. "I'll miss you."
Jack looked at the body, trying to sort through his jumble of emotions. "I met you as your superior, but it sure as hell didn't seem like that…" He took another shaky breath. "From India, to Zululand, to this place… You've always been there to make light of a bad situation. Goodbye, friend."
Byrant sighed and began to shovel dirt into the grave, Jack soon followed suit. When the grave had been filled, Jack left his shovel in the dirt to mark the grave. Both of them were silent as they reflected on the moment.
"He died with honor," Bryant suddenly said. "He died for the Queen, a true hero."
Jack shook his head with a sigh. "No, he just died."
Molt sat on his throne, thinking through the events that had happened in the past few days. None of it was good.
Proptor was lost, that much was certain. The force Emperor Molt had sent to retake it were humiliated in battle and was almost entirely obliterated. Those who had survived had chosen to desert rather than face Molt's wrath, joining bandit gangs and robbing travelers. Nothing had gone to plan.
The Empire's weakness was now exposed for all other nations to see. While the ten thousand men sent to deal with the otherworlders were by no means anything close to what the Empire could muster in full, they didn't have enough men to both guard their borders and crush the otherworlders at the same time.
If the Empire was going to survive, they'd have to conquer their weak neighbors in order to reassert their authority, while at the same time ensuring peace with their strong neighbors. Like it or not, the otherworlders were now one of their strong neighbors.
Fortunately, the otherworlders seemed to wish for peace as well, they'd sent a diplomat to the Capital in order to negotiate for a treaty. Lord Webster Burke, the British diplomat, seemed to be at least mostly agreeable and with any luck they'd work out a deal that wouldn't humiliate the Empire. Perhaps they could even become allies.
The senate of course was divided as ever. In the wake of their defeat to the otherworlders, two factions had formed: the pro-peace side who wished to negotiate an end to the war, and the pro-war side who wished to raise more men to crush the invaders. Both sides were too idealistic in their nature.
The pro-peace side believed that the otherworlders only invaded the Empire because the Empire had struck first; they thought that if the Empire ceased all aggression, the otherworlders would simply pack up and leave. Molt had nearly laughed when he heard them make their case; no nation simply agreed to sign a truce during a war they were winning. They would want something from the Empire, be it land or money.
On the other hand, the pro-war side believed that the Empire's military simply needed more men to crush the otherworlders. They were conveniently ignoring the fact that most reports stated the only casualties inflicted on the otherworlders were as a result of the Wyvern Corps. Dragons were hard to train and any losses to the Wyvern Corps would take years to replace, so their idea of raising more men was pointless for the foreseeable future.
Fortunately, the senate was easily manipulated and Molt would most likely be able to sway support in a way he saw fit when the time came.
Molt suddenly looked towards Marcus. "How many soldiers do we have in the Capital?"
The man shifted as he spoke, "At the moment, only three hundred professional soldiers. However, if necessary, a milita can be raised numbering into the the tens of thousands.
Molt nodded. It was suitable for defending the city, but not enough for any offensive actions. "Zorzal is still raising men for his expedition against the Warrior Bunnies, correct?"
"Yes, your imperial majesty. He's gathering reserve forces from the countryside and plans to have at least twelve thousand men for the invasion."
"Good, give him additional funding for the task." Making peace with the otherworlders would make the Empire look even weaker, but conquering a species such as the Warrior Bunnies would prove they were still a force to be reckoned with.
"Of course." Marcus said with a bow. "Is there anything else, your imperial majesty?"
Molt thought for a moment before asking, "Pina and her order of knights, where are they?" While his daughter's Rose Order had long been nothing more than an honor guard, with the Empire's forces stretched thin, they may be needed in the coming weeks.
"The Princess took her order to fight deserters and bandits in the south, your imperial majesty."
Molt nodded. If Pina's order was dealing with bandits then it meant the professional army wouldn't have to, freeing up more men. "That's all then, I'll start negotiations with the otherworlder diplomat tomorrow. See to it that he is treated well."
"Yes, your imperial majesty." Marcus left to carry out the Emperor's orders.
Captain Harrington's efforts at gaining General Alford's support had been failing. The general was always "busy" or "dealing with urgent matters" whenever Harrington had tried to invite him for a meal. It was almost as if the general was purposefully avoiding him, though he hadn't a clue why he'd do that.
Time was running out for Harrington. Just a few days prior, more warships had arrived in Falmart, and although Harrington still technically had command over the naval forces in the region, that wouldn't last long. If something big didn't change, the navy would bring in an admiral to take command from him.
That couldn't happen.
Harrington brought out a map of Falmart and laid it across his desk. It wasn't as detailed as he'd like, but it would have to do for the time being. He didn't have time to wait for better maps to be found and translated.
Tracing his hand over the map, he found Proptor's location. Proptor was located at the northernmost point of the Blue Sea and served as the Empire's main port in the south. While the Empire controlled a large amount of land on Falmart, there were still several independent kingdoms that could be exploited.
The kingdom that particularly interested him was known as Elbe. Though technically a vassal state of the Empire, from what he'd heard they were allowed to manage their foreign affairs semi autonomously. What mainly interested him about the kingdom was their control over the Glass Peninsula, which contained another major port, Bilek. Another ideal place to establish trade.
If Harrington was able to secure another major port for trade with Britain, his chances at keeping his command over naval forces in Falmart would significantly increase. At the same time, it was also risky; if Harrington's mission instead caused another kingdom to be hostile with Britain, then he'd almost certainly be removed from his command.
Ultimately, Harrington decided the risk was worth the reward. He was going to be removed from command anyways, he might as well take the only chance he had at keeping it. There was little chance of him becoming famous if he was simply tossed aside and replaced by some admiral; he couldn't let that happen.
Leaving the map in his cabin, Harrington exited the room and headed for the deck. There he immediately went straight to his first mate. "Watson! We're heading on an expedition, have the ship stocked with supplies!"
"An expedition, Captain?" he questioned. "Where are we going?"
"The Glass Peninsula, to our south, we'll be working to establish trade there."
"Do we have orders to do this?"
Harrington expression turned dark. "The only orders we have are the ones that I give; I am in command here, no one else."
"Right, Captain, it's just that-"
"Do not question my orders," he hissed out.
Watson looked surprised at the change in tone. "Of course, Captain. Are we bringing any other ships with us?"
Harrington shook his head. "I'll not have any other captains stealing my glory."
Watson sighed as Harrington pushed past him.
Jack's troop rode through the countryside, trying to correctly map out the area. They were following a local map to a village known as Sevso in order to add it to their own maps which were much more accurate. As a side effect, they also got to explore the continent more.
For some reason, Falmart almost seemed to be less beautiful than it had been when they'd last scouted the area. The sun still shined like always, if a bit cloudier than usual, but the colors looked less pronounced, like they were muted in some way.
It didn't help that they no longer had open ground to ride over. The wide open plains that were perfect for their horses had started to give way to large forests with only small patches of open ground and the roads in between them. Because of this, the cavalrymen had been forced to use the roads; riding through thick forests was dangerous, and Jack didn't want to take any unnecessary risks.
"How big do you think this 'Sevso' is?" Bryant wondered as they kept riding.
Jack yawned. "Couple hundred people, maybe larger."
"So what do we do if there's more than just a couple hundred people in the village?" Bryant asked.
Jack cocked his head. "What do you mean?"
Bryant scratched his face as he spoke, "You saw all those Saderans running from the battlefield, aye?"
Jack slowly nodded, still not understanding what he was getting at.
"Well, where do you think they've run off to?"
"I don't know, regrouping at Sadera?" he guessed.
Bryant shook his head. "You saw how they were running, do you really think they're going to run back to the army after what they experienced?"
"I suppose not." Bryant had a point, no one would willingly fight after that kind of slaughter. "So they've gone back to their homes then?"
"Maybe a decent chunk of them, but just think about it. You're a deserter, you're supposed to be executed for your crimes, you need money, and you have a sword. What do you think they did?"
"You think they've become bandits?"
Bryant nodded. "I'm certain of it, and you know what bandits love? Remote places that they can use as their hideout while also exploiting the people there."
"Just like Sevso…" While he doubted bandits would pose any serious threats to them, Jack didn't want to get caught up in any fighting.
"So let me just ask once more, what are our orders if they happen to be hiding out in Sevso?"
Jack sighed, they were here to scout, not fight bandits. "If they come after us, shoot back, but don't pick any fights."
"Understood, sir."
They kept riding, following the road to Sevso. Just as Jack was about to settle down and relax for the remainder of the journey, he thought he heard something in the distance. It sounded like a dragon screech, but it was too distant for Jack to be sure. He decided it was just his imagination.
Settling down in his saddle, Jack allowed his horse to trot along. For the past few days, he'd had little chance to actually relax, there was just too much to do after the battle. Now in the wilderness, he had the chance to actually reflect on what had happened. Hundreds dead, a massive slaughter, his friend's d-
He heard the noise again.
It was louder this time, but still distant. He was now very certain it was a dragon, but none of his men seemed to have heard it. Once again, he decided it was just his imaginat-
There it was again.
This time his men heard it too, but only because it was much louder than the last one. Everyone looked towards the sky, trying to spot the tell tale shadow of a dragon. Several men had to calm their breathing as they looked on in fearful anticipation.
For just a split second, Jack almost believed that they hadn't truly heard a dragon. Instead they'd heard some sort of strange bird, or the mating call of a foreign creature.
That split second passed.
Bursting from the clouds, the dragon flew overhead at an incredible speed. It looked similar to the ones from the battle, but there wasn't a rider on top of it. Although it wasn't going after them, Jack didn't want to take any chances.
"Into the forest! It can't see us under the trees!"
Jack's men immediately followed his orders and began to gallop off of the road. They entered the thick forest at high speeds, something extremely dangerous, but also necessary for the situation. Maneuvering around trees, they continued to ride into the forest.
Taking a moment to glance overhead, Jack couldn't spot the dragon through the tree cover. Hopefully that meant the dragon also couldn't spot them. Suddenly Jack's horse reared back as they nearly hit a tree.
He hadn't been looking forward, and he paid the price for it. Immediately, Jack was thrown from the saddle. One of his feet got stuck in the stirrup, but before he could undo it another screech from the dragon caused his horse to bolt forward, dragging Jack along with it.
He could feel every little stick and rock impact his back as he got dragged along the forest floor. The immense pain finally ended when Jack's foot finally managed to get free from the stirrup.
Groaning, he pushed himself onto his feet and looked around. His horse was nowhere to be seen, having continued galloping away even after he got free. Jack also soon realized that his troop was also nowhere to be seen.
He was stranded, out in the middle of a forest he knew nothing about, with few provisions, and without a horse. There was only one thing he could say about the situation.
"Fuck…"
Chapter 7, hooray! I think I've memorized the lyrics to Rule Britannia at this point with how much I've been listening to it.
Corporal Tommy: I've been trying to figure out ways to even the playing field while also not completely reversing the odds by making something too OP. Like magic will give the Saderans an advantage, but I don't want it to completely negate the British Army at the same time, I think I managed to get a mid point with the dragons here.
hellisonfire345: I've got plans for the Warrior Bunnies, but they'll be later. The idea of a Royal Flying Corp with Wyverns seems to be pretty popular, I'll think about adding it in.
Feerzo 14: Britannia rules the land and sea indeed, we'll see about the air.
V1kingz-98: F
Sleipnir: Just south of Sadera, if you look at some of the maps it's pretty close to it.
Also for British Infantry Equipment: The standard British rifle at this time is the breach loading Martini-Henry Rifle. British soldiers carry the Martini-Henry in addition to a bayonet and ammunition for it (around 80 rounds). Their uniform consists of a pith helmet (either white or khaki) and a red tunic (though khaki was adopted shortly after) and black trousers. Additionally they carry a haversack (small bag) which has a day's rations. They also carry a wooden canteen for water. On their backs they had a pack with a mess tin (containing hygiene and eating utensils). Finally they have a wool blanket attached to the pack to act as either a bedroll or for cold nights.
Perseus 12: Good ideas.
Lex: I'm debating between having tea or opium be the main thing spread to Saderan society, maybe it'll be both.
Kirov of the USSR: Unfortunately the Maxim Gun was invented five years after this story takes place, so we'll have to settle for Gatling Guns.
haseyem: Using the armor piercing rounds to attempt to shoot dragons out of the sky obviously wont work, but using canister shells to damage their wings and force them to land would be far more effective. It would be like shooting a duck out of the sky with a shotgun, the spray takes care of the lack of accuracy. Then once grounded, since most British weapons can't actually pierce their scales and thus kill them, the armor piercing rounds can be used to kill them. Also if the British do get dragons I think I'll settle on the Royal Flying Corps as the name (the same one used for the first British air force in WW1).
Xboxgorgo18: Yep, no British planes, but maybe some dragons who knows.
Papon777: For Queen and Country!
Bronze Shield: Definitely, you don't want to be caught without air support twice.
