[FCN RP] 1845: Gunpowder & Sail (IC/PT/Closed)

[Furbish Islands]

Streets of Kanton
Kanton City-Province, Furby Island
Morning, 22-1-1845

It has been eighteen days since Corporal Howard Kraaijenzang first arrived to the city of Kanton, and eleven days since he fought a skirmish against natives attempting to enter the city. Besides the raid, the other seventeen days were uneventful. Patrolling the city, now marching beside other randomly chosen soldiers since the raid, carefully watching the jungle to make sure natives do not begin attacking, and listening for gunshots from other soldiers, which meant that there was an attack. It was easy to get bored on guard duty, marching along the same short border of the city. But as Kraaijenzang marched, he thought about the raid eleven days ago. The night after the raid, Borthwell praised his men and their actions actions, after hearing what happened. He said the response to the raid and all actions taken by the soldiers were perfect. But did the soldiers really do everything perfectly? Especially the bayonet charge in the end of the raid, which was Kraaijenzang’s idea. Ywo soldiers were wounded because of the charge.

Kraaijenzang wondered, should he have done the charge, while risking his life without thinking about due to the heat of the moment? Could the two wounds inflicted on the two soldiers have been avoided entirely had the charge not happened. Was it even his fault for beginning the charge, or the other soldiers’ faults for joining? But it was far too late to undo anything. The three soldiers were already wounded, and taken to the hospital. They probably recovered by now, and are probably marching somewhere else in this city. While thinking about this, Kraaijenzang continued marching. He held his musket before him, as instructed. The musket is loaded, with a bayonet fixed to the end. Any natives that attack from the jungle can be shot at immediately. Quick response times are necessary, for the natives can make plenty of shots while the Furbish still load their muskets. Kraaijenzang thought about what the soldier marching beside him was thinking. But as he had that thought, his boot made another thump against the cobblestone road, and simultaneously a gunshot was heard.

Beside Kraaijenzang, Lance Corporal Douglas Keiler was marching, thinking about the raid he fought in just six days earlier. Only six days. It has been almost a week, but the events were still fresh in Keiler’s mind. At first, on that morning, several natives popped out of the jungle, all at once, weapons in hand, ready to fight. Some of them started flinging arrows, while others jumped down into the trenches. Keiler and the other soldiers he marched with fired back at the archers. While the archers were being dealt with, several natives were attempting to enter Kanton by climbing over the trench that surrounded the city. Several climbed past by the time most of the archers were gone. Thinking quickly, Keiler lead an attack with his saber, cutting down several natives. Other soldiers joined him, all putting away their muskets and pulling out sabers. The natives retreated back over the trench and into the jungle. The raid was very short, only lasting a few minutes, but to the soldiers on the field, it felt like hours. Keiler thought about this attack often for the past six days.

Borthwell was soon informed of everything that happened, and again praised his soldiers’ actions, saying nothing they did could have been better, similar to what he said to the raid five days earlier. But this also drew some doubts among the soldiers who fought in it, all except Keiler. He knew the soldiers getting wounded was unavoidable. Also, the natives did want melee combat. Keiler was not sure if they really did, but if they were right next to the soldiers, they were going to get a taste of the weapons the soldiers used at this range. And sabers did not take a long time to reload, unlike muskets. Keiler was trained well on what to do, and in the heat of the moment, he swiftly dealt with the raid. But now, six days later, Keiler hoped to never repeat what had happened. He was at a life threatening situation. It was more likely that he would have messed up somewhere, than dealing with the raid perfectly. He hoped this would be his last engagement. But he was wrong. He knew this when out of the blue, he heard a gunshot.

Both men did not waste any time, and began rushing towards the direction the gunshot came from. It was behind them, so they turned around and then ran forward. Keiler and Kraaijenzang saw a small group of soldiers who just fired their muskets at a crowd of natives in the jungle, who just appeared and are ready to attack the city. The crowd, numbering nearly two dozen strong, all walked into the trenches. They began climbing out, into the city. And also ready to throw spears at the Furbish soldiers before them. Farther along the trench and the road, there was another crowd of natives, which looked to be about the same number, also climbing out the trench into the city. But both groups were about a hundred meters apart, and had soldiers firing at them. Kraaijenzang and Keiler both knew their muskets could shoot from the distance they currently stood at, but muskets were very inaccurate. It was best to get a little closer to the natives before firing a shot at them. Both men continued moving forward.

Kraaijenzang and Keiler were now only a few dozen meters from the natives. Kraaijenzang stopped, and fired his musket into the trench. Keiler stopped a few meters ahead, and fired. Both shots hit the natives in trenches. Kraaijenzang shot one native in the side of the head, who died instantly. Keiler’s shot hit another native just before one from another soldier. It was unclear who hit where, and who made that kill, but there were now two bullet holes in his chest, and he was also dead. More soldiers arrived to the scene, each firing a shot at the natives, then retreating to reload. But despite all the musket balls fired at them, the natives persisted. They still attempted to climb out of the trench, and seemed to want to jab spears straight into the Furbish soldiers, despite how hopeless their situation now is. They were getting shot at by many soldiers, with numbers similar to what the natives had. And this time, they did not have archers behind them to provide support, just natives climbing out of the trench.

While they continued climbing, Kraaijenzang finished reloading his musket, then fired his second shot into the trench, but missed this shot. Keiler fired soon after, hitting another native, this time in the shoulder. Keiler and Kraaijenzang began reloading their muskets again. While they were reloading, two natives escaped the trenches. They tried running towards the soldiers, but it did not take long for a soldier to stab both of them with his bayonet. That soldier turned his musket back towards the trenches after bayoneting both natives. Another seemed close to climbing out, and he was shot. The rest of the natives lost hope by this point, and attempted to retreat back into the jungle. They fell back from the side of the trench near the city, and began climbing the other side, back into the jungle. The soldiers still fired at the fleeing natives. Kraaijenzang got another shot at the fleeing natives. His musket ball hit one in the back, and he fell back into the trench. Keiler fired his musket, killing another retreating native. After the natives were all gone, Kraaijenzang and Keiler stayed, then continued along their paths. The raid was dealt with again. Both men, who each participated in one of the last two raids, knew how poorly executed this one was, and hoped the natives would remain as incompetent as they were this time.

About a hundred meters away from the scene, a similar situation unfolded. The second group of natives appeared from the jungle at the same time as the first, but a short distance away. This did not split the soldiers thinly as planned, for enough arrived at the sight to deal with both groups. The soldiers also did not think about which side to deal with, just ran to one and fired. Major Borthwell would later call this the first mistake, splitting both groups instead of concentrating the force. The second, was the lack of archers. There were less casualties than the last raid, despite the larger numbers, simply because the natives chose to send all to the trenches, and none who fired arrows from behind to provide coverage. The second group of natives were dealt with the same way as the first group, shot at until they realized the hopelessness of the situation, and retreated. The raid ultimately was planned worse than the previous two, resulting in more native and less Furbish casualties. But they learned from mistakes, and Borthwell expected the next raid to be executed better.

[New Waldensia]

January 23rd, 1845
Voldter's Crossroads, Toulode, CoNW
High Noon

As the Hussian infantry approached rifle range, their artillery ceased overhead counter-battery fire to avoid friendly casualties. Artillery crewmen scurried about the refilling of ammunition carts, and eagerly awaited the outcome of the contest. Brigadier General Ernst Virtoir of the 5th Foot Brigade, in command of the entire force, watched with his staff through field glasses.

Out on the right flank, the two companies of the 3rd Cavalry Regiment galloped forward up to pistol range and exchanged a few rounds of volleys, before retiring to their initial position. Horse artillery from both sides continued to play, exchanging shells, with the Toulodians unloaded a few rounds of canister at close range.

In the center, the 2nd Light-Foot Regiment led the assault against the low ridge, with the 2nd Foot Regiment on their left and the 3rd Foot Regiment coming in reserve. The Toulodians had placed their 1st Light-Foot Regiment in the crucial location, betting their elite troops against their Hussian counterparts. As they approached to within 200 yards, Toulodian riflemen began a steady fire into the Hussian ranks, while artillery started to spit canister at the Hussian infantry. Toulodian cavalry was dismounted in the woods to the right of the Hussian infantry assault, and they poured in a hot flanking fire with their M1841 Breech Carbines.

At 100 yards, the Toulodian artillery called for double-canister, and launched their deadly load into the Hussian ranks. Gaps were filled from behind by the supporting companies, and the Toulodian infantry approached to 50 yards. The Hussians fired a quick volley and charged the breastworks. At 20 yards they took in a devastating volley that brought the charge to a shuddering halt. They reformed and charged the wall again, and were repulsed after some brief hand-to-hand fighting.

On the Toulodian right flank, the 6th Foot Regiment routed the lead company of the Hussian 2nd Foot Regiment, sending them fleeing to the rear. The other two companies continued the assault, trading volleys with the Toulodians.

The Hussian light-infantry charged two more times, engaging in hand-to-hand fighting each time, before withdrawing with heavy losses. As they fell back, the 3rd Foot Regiment took up the assault, launching into the Toulodian line with vigor.

Gen. Virtoir ordered the 7th and 11th Foot Regiments to prepare to move up; their brief respite from the march was over. On the Toulodian side, the 1st Light-Foot Regiment shortened their line to compensate for losses, and the 2nd Foot Regiment sent a company forward to fill the resulting gap between the 1LFR and 6FR.

[Eire-Alba]

January 20, 1845
Outside of Dùn Èideann

A army with the flag of Clan Collins is flying in the wind outside of the walls of Dùn Èideann. King Revan, while standing on the wall of the city, asked his top general, General John Stevenson, "I thought there was more clans that would try to rise." General Stevenson calls for the messenger that came into the city four hours ago. The general asked the messenger why there is only one Clan when multiple sided with Clan Collins. The messenger said "Clan Leader Alfred Collins attempts to get other clans to rise, but failed. They did, however they did rise a army of about 800 soldiers. They got the recruits from the clans that allied with Clan Collins." Revan then asked the General on how many soldiers they have in the city. "About 3,000, some of the army came to Dùn Èideann for more training and to rest," said the General, "We can send the troops out at night and surround the rebels in no time." The King replies, "Ok, we will do that."

January 20, 1845
11:00 P.M.
The Royal soldiers in Dùn Èideann surround the rebels while there was 20 sleepy soldiers keeping watch. By 11:29 P.M., the entirety of the rebel camp was surrounded. David Boone, a Royal soldier, was kneeling with the rest of his Company in the high grass. They were waiting for the sign from the officers to charge. He thinks, "This is nothing like hunting in the woods with Clan Leader Jason Harding." The signal was given. the entire Brigade starts to march toward the quite camp. David's line starts walking quicker. The entire brigade starts going into the tents and captured the majority of rebels. The ones who was not captured was killed because they either started to fight or was keeping watch. The surviving rebels was marched into town that morning.

January 21, 1845
The Court House
The military tribunal found the rebels guilty of treason. They were to be executed on January 22 at 1:00 P.M. for all 600 surviving soldiers except Alfred Collins, he was to be hanged on January 25th at 4:00 P.M.

January 22, 1845
The soldiers were executed by firing squad from 1:00 P.M. till 10:00 P.M. It took till midnight to clean up the streets of bodies and the blood. The families of the soldiers told the royal soldiers where to burry the rebels. All of the rebel soldiers were buried on January 24th.

January 25, 1845
3:40 P.M.
The gallows was built in the town square. Alfred Collins was being marched to the gallows. At 4:00 P.M., Alfred Collins was executed and buried in his family's catacombs.

[Gagium]

January 21, 1845
Brooks river, end of the Holston Post Road
Much to Captain Joel Cobb's dismay, the river's ice was (surprisingly) too thin to hold up his caravan on the way to Fort Monger. As he received the news from a weary staff sergeant, he exhaled a breath of frigid air. Joel dispatched the sergeant to call up the company's officers for a brief meeting in Westbank-At-Arms Hotel, a former officer's quarters of the old Fort. His Lieutenant First Class Jaqui was the first to show up, followed by a few more ensigns and lieutenants of the cavalry company.

Joel motioned for his officers to take a seat around a nearby table, warmed by the flickering flames of the hotel's fireplace. As the officers sat down, Captain Joel took a swig out of his mug and looked around. "Much to my dismay, my men, it appears as if the journey to reinforce the fort will be another week at best. Our food supplies will not last us more, and the longer we stay out here, the more likely it is that our caravan of ammunition and weapons will get into the hands of the uncivilized men of the endless pines."

"We will move out in approximately 5 hours, at around three o'clock. We will need our carriages readied for the journey alongside the river southbound, and our cavalry prepared. Though I have traveled the journey more than once, I implore that we fetch a guide from the village as well, so the conditions needed for our earliest arrival are favorable. Jaqui, ensure that the non-commissioned officers have their sections readied in time. Our carriages need to be checked as well before we embark on the journey to Monger."

"That is all, officers. Have a drink if you will, to our favorable arrival. May God bless us all."

January 23, 1845
Road to Fort Monger, alongside the Brooks River, Redforge Parish
A briefly-lasted blizzard hammered the ground with nearly half a foot of snow before the clouds suddenly gave way to the sun. Three horses had died of the cold since the departure from Westbank-At-Arms, and it seemed as if several more would die before their arrival. The soldiers and their horses trudged through the snow, barely pulling the carriages laden with supplies as the sun descended below the horizon. Captain Joel gazed tiredly at the thousands of stars that illuminated the night sky before writing a memoir in his journal under torchlight.

January 28, 1845 9:30 AM
Two Miles from Fort Monger
It was barely dawn as a forward scout that had been dispatched mere hours ago had informed Captain Joel Cobb and First Lieutenant Jaqui Turner that they were relatively close to Fort Monger. With only three more days of food supplies and nearly all other amenities brought with them gone, the Captain welcomed their arrival. He dispatched a section of 30 cavalrymen to ride to the Fort to inform the garrison of their arrival before the supplies made their way.

10:15 AM
As the forward section of cavalry led by First Lieutenant trudged up the worn path to the riverside fort, a cavalrymen behind him stopped. Jaqui turned his head to yell at the soldier to keep up the pace, but he noticed that the soldier was inspecting the landscape ahead of them. Jaqui yanked his head back ahead of him and squinted. His eyes fell upon bellowing columns of smoke rising from the middle of the forest, a little upways towards the path. The Lieutenant murmured something to his ensign and reared his horse to face his men.

"Brothers, it appears as if the Fort which we had trudged for the past month to reach is burning, though my eyes may be mistaken. We must make haste up the road. Onwards!"

Jaqui turned his horse back around whipped his horse to a sprint, the horses' hooves kicking up snow as his men struggled to keep pace.

10:30 AM
The 30-man strong section stopped on the slope upwards to the fort's wood and stone walls. The gate of the fort was disfigured and war-torn, and whole sections of the log walls had been dismantled.. Arrows were embedded into the wooden surface of the gate, and they could smell the smoke rising from within the fort's walls. The First Lieutenant cautiously ordered a third of his section to leave their horses and enter the fort on foot. Jaqui watched as the first man entered the fort.

[Furbish Islands]

Near Furby City Coast
Furby City City-Province, Furby Island
Sunset, 16-1-1845

The SS Herman McPherson continued speeding towards the direction of the afternoon sun, and soon the crew saw the silhouette of the shore ahead. After over four days of travel, the small ship almost arrived at its destination, the port of Furby City. The city, the capital and largest city in Furby Island, was founded about a century and a half ago, and many years after its founding it was chosen to be the capital of the newly united nation. Since then, the city and its port have grown in size dramatically. The port has ships from many parts of the globe, entering with various foreign goods, and some domestic from other areas of the country, and taking manufactured goods from the city with them. Along with goods, news also gets spread around in the port. People talked about the war that recently ended in New Gandor, a new king crowned in Rivine, and an ongoing civil war in Waldensia. But information took time to travel, and no one in the area was aware of a raid on Kanton that took place just a few hours earlier.

Unlike most ships in the harbor, the SS Herman McPherson was not a ship that carried goods. Herman McPherson, the ship’s namesake, is the current head of the Kanton Company’s shipbuilding branch. The ship itself is a part of the company’s fleet of fast moving ships meant to deliver messages. The people on board the ship payed a good amount of money for their ride. There were better options. Larger ships, with more room for each passenger, but this ship was fast. Alfred Sapping, however was an employee of the Kanton Company, and he is being paid to ride on this ship. On him, he had a message, which he was supposed to give to the company owners. The leader of the Kanton Company army, General Benton Clements, asked Sapping to deliver this message, and instructed him to never open it. Sapping did not intend to do so. Whatever was in the letter must have been important. The general seemed to be in a hurry, and looked for any ship to send off quickly. In Sapping’s years on the job, no one ever seemed this rushed since the war in 1842.

The ship began slowing down as it was nearing the harbor. Sapping held the letter in his hand, ready to leave the ship and bring the letter to the office. After working for many years, he already memorized the fastest route to the building from every dock on the port. It was close to the port, close enough that it would be faster to walk then get a horse. The dock was getting closer, and after a few minutes, the Herman McPherson reached a wooden dock. The ship then came to a stop. On land, several men pulled ropes to tie the ship to the dock. Unlike in Kanton, they were payed workers who chose this job, unlike slaves forced to at gunpoint under the watchful eye of an overseer. The men all pulled the ropes and tied them down to the dock. When the ship was securely tied to the harbor, its doors were opened to the dock. Sapping stepped out of the ship with the letter in hand and headed off to the Kanton Company headquarters.

Sapping observed what was going on in the streets of Furby City as he walked with the letter. Dock workers were running around the dock going about their business, loading and unloading ships or signaling ones where to go. People boarded or got off ships, and talked about events, both from other areas of the country and from foreign nations. Market stalls were near, and had salesmen who shouted to get the people’s attention. Some shouted to Sapping, but he ignored him. He thought “Can you leave me alone, I will check you out when I don’t have an urgent letter to deliver.” as he walked past. Next to one ship, Sapping heard someone speaking to a large crowd. “Just five days ago, the city of Kanton was under attack by savages again! It was the largest raid yet! Started off when some native who can’t aim for the life of him, literally, failed to kill a soldier and only shot off his hat, only to be shot dead by that soldier. More joined at both sides, and natives were stupid enough to enter the city by jumping in and climbing out of the trench! Ended with a pretty reckless move on the soldiers’ part. Just running through the arrows with bayonets out!” Sapping sensed that guy was not telling the whole story, just attempting exaggerate it to sell his newspaper. He continued walking by.

In a few minutes, Sapping finally reached the company headquarters. The sun has already set by then, and it was beginning to get darker. The building itself was not different to the ones surrounding it. It was a simple brick structure, with nothing significant about it that makes it different to the buildings beside it, except for who is occupying it. Beside it were stables, where some officials kept their horeses for the day. The building is old, having seen fighting on the streets of Furby City almost four decades earlier. Many people inhabited it, but now it was bought by the Kanton Company to use as a headquarters. What made the building appealing was its close position to the dock. Sapping grabbed the handle and opened the door. He walked in the building to see one of the founders of the Kanton Company, Morris Galway, about to walk out. “Good evening Mr. Galway” Sapping started, without hesitation, “General Clements sent me an urgent letter which he asked to be delivered to you.” The founder stopped, looking at the letter now held by Sapping. He replied, “I presume it has something to do with the raid five days ago?”

“I don’t know, sir. He just gave me it and asked me to send it to you, and hastily sent out a ship to here.” Galway took the letter, and instructed Sapping to stay in the building until given further instruction, then walked to the back of the building and climbed the stairs. As Galway walked, he wondered what could be in the letter. Last time an urgent one was sent from Kanton was three years ago during a war in the city. Perhaps another war was starting. Galway decided to open the letter. He stopped and read what was in it. On the eleventh of January, there was another raid, which was put down quickly by the Furbish garrison. But a day later, the garrison commander, Major Frederick Borthwell, had a meeting with the leaders of all armies stationed in the city, including Cements and other Kanton Company officers. Borthwell said a war was imminent, and ordered all soldiers from all armies to patrol the streets in the event of a war breaking out.

The second founder of the company, and Morris Galway’s brother, Webster Galway, was sitting in the top room when his brother burst in carrying a letter. “What brings you back so early?” Webster asked. Morris continued walking towards his brother with the letter, and replied “News from Kanton. The SVF commander called all the officers, including General Clements, and warned them of a war being imminent, and ordered as many soldiers as possible to patrol the streets?”

“Including our own?”

“Yes. The commander predicted the war should happen in about a week and a half”

“How is he so sure a war would happen then?”

“Well there’s a point when a raid has enough strength that it is considered an attack and not a raid, and must be dealt with. The commander predicted the date and strength of the last one. He also predicted the dates of several more attacks.”

“That is a pretty short notice for the beginning of a war, but better than nothing. I believe the best we can do is dispatch ships to keep our soldiers fully supplied.”

“Best if we have enough extra supplies for the other armies in the city. I’m sure the commander would rather give supplies to his troops if there is a shortage.”

“Good point. The messenger who sent the letter, is he still in the building?”

“Yes. Told him to stay until further notice.”

“Send him to our factory first, then back to Kanton.”

Morris went to his desk and grabbed a piece of paper. He grabbed his quill pen, dipped it in a jar of ink, and began writing. The first was an order to the factory, send supplies to Kanton, because a was as imminent. There should be enough to supply a regiment of the Kanton Company’s army, the SVF garrison, and various national guard forces and militia. When the letter was finished, Morris folded it, then sealed it with wax and stamped it. The second was to be sent to General Clements about the supply ships that will be arriving, and to continue defending company property. An attack on the railroad would be devastating, or anywhere in the city. But the war at least would give the possibility of gaining a buffer zone, to further protect the train yard, which now sits just on the edge of the city border. Only a trench unmanned for years stood in the way between it and the jungle. Morris warned Celements of that in the letter, then folded it and sealed it. With that, he walked downstairs once again, bringing the letters over to Sapping.

“Mr. Sapping, you have two more letters to deliver.” Morris Galway said as he was almost down the stairs. Sapping looked up to see the company founder with two letters in his hands. “What was the ship that you just sailed from Kanton on, and where is it docked.”

“Herman McPherson” Sapping quickly replied, “Let me show you where.” Galway walked down the stairs and both men walked out the door of the building, into the star lit night sky. The streets of Furby City were still active at night, especially near the port. Above the city, the moon was just past its first quarter. Sapping pointed to the SS Herman McPherson, which was sitting in the dock, with the crew of the ship hanging around near it and conversing with people nearby. Galway handed both of his letters to Sapping before walking in the stables beside the building. He walked out with his horse. It looked large and black to Sapping, though that may be because of the darkness. Galway looked at both letters and took one, leaving Sapping with one addressed to a factory in the city. “Send this letter to our factory, then meet me back on the dock. Take my horse there.” Galway said. Sapping was surprised that Galway trusted him enough to ride his horse. But he was thankful, because it was not safe to simply walk around in the city at this hour.

It was not Sapping’s first time being on a horse, he rode on plenty, being a messenger. But riding in the city streets at night felt different. He jumped on the horse with the letter in a bag. He rode through the streets, with his path lit up by streetlights. Sapping knew the way to the factory well enough that he probably did not even need them. After several minutes, Sapping arrived at the main entrance to the factory. Inside there was still light, and he knocked on the door. Someone quickly opened it. Sapping saw just the man’s silhouette from where he stood. “Good evening, sir” he said, holding the letter in his right hand, “Galway wanted me to send this letter to here, said it is urgent.” The man took the letter from Sapping’s extended head. “I will pass it on to my boss” the man said, and then he entered the factory with the letter. Sapping heard him shout the manager’s name, before he sat back on his horse and rode to the dock.

The crew of the SS Herman McPherson where quick to prepare the ship for another journey to Kanton just after Galway appeared and gave the order. The small ship was stocked up with supplies to last the crew and passengers the four day journey. Speed was the primary factor at the moment, not money. Galway gave money he had on him to the crew, who purchased supplies from vendors near the dock and on the street. Getting supplies from the Kanton Company’s warehouse, located elsewhere in the city, would take too much time. While the crew was loading the ship, some stood near and shouted “One way trip to Kanton! Four and a half days of travel!” Some people from the dock heard this and decided to get on board the ship. People would pay plenty of money to get to Kanton this quickly, no matter how small the ship was and uncomfortable conditions can be. Galway thought about how speed is important for these people, as well as the company.

Galway heard galloping and turned to see where it was coming from. There he saw Sapping on his black horse, who looks like he already deliver the letter. The horse slowed down as it got near Galway, and Sapping stopped it and dismounted. Galway grabbed the letter he was holding, and gave it to Sapping, instructing, “Send this to General Clements.” Sapping took the letter and nodded his head. He looked to see the SS Herman McPherson being loaded with supplies. Sapping boarded the ship again, dreading the four and a half day journey ahead. As stood on the deck, the crew of the ship were still loading crates and barrels of supplies onto it. Food and water to last the journey, along with coal to power the ship. Several other citizens, wanting to arrive to Kanton quickly, also boarded the ship. Sapping watched as Galway got on his horse and rode away into the pitch black streets of Furby City.

It took a few more minutes to finish loading cargo. By that point, the ship was already at full capacity in terms of passengers. The crew who were loading got on last with the last few crates of supplies. When they got on, the ship’s captain said the ship would disembark, and signaled nearby dock workers. The workers untied the ship from the dock. The ship’s engine was turned on, and the ship paddled away from the city into the bay. Sapping saw some lights coming from the city, getting smaller and smaller in the distance. Ahead was the beacon of a lighthouse. Above was the starry night sky, with a moon just past its first quarter. In a few minutes, it was impossible to make out the features of Furby City, and the ship reached full speed. It would arrive in Kanton four and a half days later, where Sapping would deliver the letter to General Benton Clements. Until then, he sat in the ship, watching the coastline of Furby Island move by.

[New Waldensia]

January 23rd, 1845
Voldter's Crossroads, Toulode, CoNW
12:30pm

Artillery thundered up and down the battle front, unleashing canister into the Hussian infantry. Sheets of lead poured in volleys from both lines of combatants, dropping men up and down the field. Combat in front of the stonewall was especially fierce, with the Toulodian light-infantry engaging with the Hussian 3rd Foot Regiment; now firing volleys at 50 paces, now in each others faces with hand-to-hand grappling.

The 7th Foot Regiment roared up the Jansville Pike, then veered off towards the dismounted Hussian cavalry in the woods. The cavalrymen were outnumbered almost 7-to-1 (one of every four dismounted troopers were detailed with the horses), but were armed with breechloading M1841 carbines, giving them a greater rate of fire. They opened up a earnest fire as soon as it became apparent that the 7FR was headed for their position. Orderlies were sent rushing for reinforcements.

Further to the left, the 11th Foot Regiment was marching for the western flank, where the Hussian 2FR and Toulodian 6FR were engaged in moderate musket fire. The 11FR moved through bloody snow as they double-quicked to their position.

Sensing a key moment in the battle, Hussian General Virtoir ordered a general advance by the cavalry out on the extreme flanks. They began to trot forward, accompanied by a slow fire from their horse artillery.

Meanwhile, the Toulodian 3rd Foot Regiment had finally made it to the vicinity, and was within one mile of the Crossroads. Brig. General Henryk Alstner of the 2nd Foot Brigade, in command of the Toulodian forces, sent orders for them to take up a defensive position immediately behind the 1st Light-Foot Regiment, on the eastern edge of the small hamlet. Gen. Alstner directed for the militia to advance in support of the cavalry on their left flank, and ordered the supply train to begin preparations in case a withdrawal became necessary.

[New Gandor]

Feburary 17, 1845

Presidential Office, New Union

7am

Edward Thompson is reading his morning paper and sipping on coffee. Relaxing before starting his day of paperwork and meetings. Suddenly his office door flies open. Its general Joshua O'Grady, the Vice Minister, and a couple engineers. They are carrying a box with wires coming out of it and a key on the front.

"Sir we have had a breakthrough!" Said O'Grady "I'll let one of the fine engineers tell you about it."

"Well sir remember the project you gave us a couple years ago?" Said the engineer.

"Why yes I dont, a long range form of communication, if I do recall?"

"Yes sir, well we present to you, the telegraph. I'm gonna send a message down the road to the generals headquarters. Wait and see what happens."

The engineer hops into a chair and starts pressing on the key, a series of short and long clicks follow.
"I told them ready to receive." He places a piece of paper next to the machine. "Now we wait."

A few minutes pass and suddenly the machine starts making a series of dashes and dots on the paper. Thompson is amazed. "What did they say?" He asked.

The message reads
Good morning sir, awaiting orders.

"This is amazing! Does it print in New Gandorian? " Thompson exclaims.

"No sir, it's a called code, a series of dots and dashes like I said. We however though, cant figure out a name, we were planning on naming it after you."

Thompson jumps at the remark. "No no no, I haven't done work. What is the name of your company?"

"Morse Brothers Engineering."

"Well then we will call it Morse Code."

"Thank you sir! Well sir with your permission we could connect all major post offices, military outposts, and government buildings in about 2 weeks, and in a few months we could connect all major cities."

"Wonderful, get started immediately" said Thompson

The engineer goes over some final details and leaves. Thompson is amazed. He looks at the telegraph and thinks, "This is the start of a new era in this world."

[Furbish Islands]

Jungles of Kanton, 20 km from Kanton
Kanton City-Province, Furby Island
Evening, 25-1-1845

Just outside the trenches of Kanton stood a dense jungle. To the Furbish, there were just trees and trees, standing endlessly past the Furbish controlled territory, to be cut down and used as a building material when taken over. But inside the wall of trees and other vegetation, something which few knew about, is very diverse wildlife. Few cared to appreciate it. All who did is either a Furbishman who spent plenty of time inside the jungle, or a native living inside it. But any outsider who stepped foot inside would be amazed at what the jungle had in store, including the Furbish soldiers who entered the jungle to take it over. The natives, who lived in the jungle for centuries, learned to live with the wildlife, how to hunt animals, gather food and water, and build shelter to protect against the elements. Some even learned basic agriculture. Writing was first invented by a native tribe nearly a millennium ago, and has since spread throughout the islands. Advanced civilizations were formed, but those and the invention of writing was ignored by the Furbish, who thought of the natives as primitive.

The Bay of Kanton was once a territory held by the Kawakau Empire, before the Furbish took it over entirely in 1842. The bay was the empire’s capital. Although the government moved from the capital to a safer location, the fact that it could not defend against foreign invaders showed a significant weakness in the empire, which already had cracks. The empire stopped trying to attack the Furbish after being defeated in a major battle, letting them keep the bay. The reason was because the empire was falling apart, and the army needed to be sent elsewhere to deal with revolts. But it was already too late, and the empire completely fell apart. Tolani, a military leader who managed to defeat the Furbish in several battles. At the end of the war, when the empire collapsed, he took the remnants of the army to establish a second Kawakau Empire. He had enough strength to begin attacking the Furbish by late 1844, and began launching raids on the city of Kanton. He gathered intelligence on the defense system, but with each raid he expected the Furbish to attack back. The Furbish never did.

Alepati, a resident of the village and former spy, walked through the village, now lit by torches and a nearly full moon. Walking past a large hut, he heard the voice of Tolani, and decided to listen in. “They have two lines of metal, and on it move certain creatures, carrying the while devils on them. The lines move past the enemy trench, and there we will launch our attack tomorrow. Fifty warriors will attack. A hundred more will stand behind, in case the white devils choose to counterattack.” Hearing this, Alepati knew that the chief only knew from observations, not reality. The creature he talked about was a train, and it was not living. It worked through a fire inside of it, fueled by a black rock known to the white men as coal. At about that moment, Tolani looked out and saw Alepati. When Alepati was a spy for the first Kawakau Empire, he lived in the city for a while to learn about what the white men were planning. He knew plenty about the city, and even learned the white men’s language. Tolani knew this, but what he did not know was that Alepati was more sympathetic to these white men than him. “Good evening, Alepati.” Tolani said, “Why are you snooping near my tent while I am planning?”

“I am sorry, sir.” Alepati saod, nervous. Tolani was paranoid often, stepping carefully to avoid a revolt that will kick him from power. Anyone caught opposing him would face serious penalties. Alepati could be accused of spying, and executed in front of the rest of the village the next morning. Listening to what Tolani said in the tent was a mistake that will cost him his life. But Tolani looked at Alepati, without a threatening look in his face. He said, “You speak the white devil’s language, correct?” Alepati nodded his head before Tolani went on. “I have a mission for you. Right now, you will go to the white devils and tell them that we will liberate the bay. Make sure their leader is there and listening to you. Tell them we will execute every single one of them. Tell them we will pay them back for every atrocity they committed against our people. If all they want is our land and our tears, we will take theirs. Let them know their defeat is inevitable. And before you leave, shout ‘death to the oppressors!’.”

Alepati knew what Tolani was saying about the white men was ignorant. First of all, their soldiers were nearly unstoppable. Three years earlier, many battles were steamrolls, even when the natives had every advantage, and were lead by competent leaders like Tolani. Some of the advantages the Furbish had were technological. They had weapons far more lethal than the arrows and spears of the natives. Alepati also believed that Tolani’s claim of the Furbish being devils was wrong. Unlike both Kawakau empires, the Furbish people chose their own leaders, and plenty of them, who all have a complex system separating powers to prevent any one person from becoming too powerful. Strangely, the system effectively governed a country far larger and more spread out than the Kawakau Empire, which had a single leader ruling directly. The Furbish people were guaranteed basic rights, many of which Tolani would not have allowed in fear of letting the people become too powerful. But if Alepati were to explain anything to Tolani, he would not have listened. To him, they were foreign invaders, and they must be dealt with.

Tolani gestured to two archers, and told Alepati “These two will protect you if the white devils choose to attack. Remember, you will talk to their leader. Make sure he knows what will happen him and the rest soon.” With that, Alepati grabbed a torch and with the two archers, was sent off into the dense jungle surrounding the bay of Kanton. From here, Alepati knew the way to the bay, following an old trail that he walked sometimes in the days of the first Kawakau Empire. The archers also seemed to know this trail, but followed Alepati because he held a torch. The jungle at night was not quiet, and many animals chose to be awake at this time and not when the sun is out. Walking through the jungle at night was just as dangerous as during the day, or significantly more without a light source. But fortunately for all three, the walk was relatively short. But the close distance between the Kawakau capital and Bay of Kanton would later be a grave mistake for the natives.

As Alepati walked, he thought about the white men, and how Tolani wanted to get rid of them entirely. But Tolani knew nothing of them. The Furbish lived by what they call the rule of law, where people were punished based on a written word, and all were punished equally for the same crime. And the punishments could not be given unless there was enough evidence to prove someone was guilty. Equality was something treasured by all. While it was not perfect, it was better than under Tolani’s rule. Where people are punished based on how he saw fit, and often by just suspicion and not evidence. The army has committed some atrocities against natives, including the Kawakau. But would the people fare better under Furbish rule, or under Tolani’s? Alepati kept thinking about the question. But as he thought, his mind wandered. He knew the plan of an assault tomorrow. Fifty natives attacking, one hundred behind in case of a counterattack. He knew the location. Tolani sent off Alepati possibly not knowing Alepati knew the plan, or tell the so called white devils about it. He kept thinking ,but soon enough ended up before the trench.

Corporal Austin Penn and Private First Class Dillard Gray marched down the streets of Kanton, watching the jungle carefully to make sure the natives do not attack the city at this late hour. Both men did not like being assigned to march at night, but it was required for the security of the city. It is possible for the natives to attempt a raid at night. Borthwell chose them, along with several other soldiers, for the task tonight. Luckily for them, the chosen soldiers rotated every night. With a lantern in hand, Gray walked closer to the trenches, illuminated by the small lantern. It was hard to see when it was this dark without the help of any light. Penn held his musket on his hands, fully loaded with the bayonet fixed. Gray’s musket was also loaded with a fixed bayonet, but was on his back and held by a strap. All both men saw was in a small sphere of light around them. Beyond it were the lanterns of other soldiers, darkness, and the summer sky with its many stars and a nearly full moon. All both men heard was the sound of their boots hitting the ground.

Penn and Gray heard rustling, and out of the bushes a native with a torch walked out. They turned around, but he shouted something before they could react. “Don’t shoot! I have an important message!” The men looked at each other, and to the torch bearing native, who held no weapons. He just spoke to them in English, which was a language not spoken by the natives. “Who are you, and why do you know our language?” To his surprise, the native responded “I was sent here three years ago, but since grown to believe that you will make better leaders than the ones we have today. Please send me your leader and two riflemen.” Penn and Gray looked at each other again, before Penn asked “Why do you need them?” The native said “I was sent by my chief to tell you that we will win, but heard his plans of an assault tomorrow. He sent me with two archers to protect me. Kill them and I will join you and say the plan.” The two soldiers did not know whether to trust him, but Gray told Penn to stay and throw a grenade if there is trouble, and left with the lantern.

Penn looked at the unarmed torch bearing native. He took out a grenade, then hung his musket by its strap on his back. He was a grenadier, picked from the largest and strongest infantrymen in the army, then trained to throw grenades as accurately and as far as possible. If trouble arose in this moment, Penn will light up the fuse of this grenade and chuck it into the jungle before him, at the natives. Grenades were not supposed to be used in raids like this, because of the potential to cause collateral damage, shrapnel, a shock wave, and the sound of the explosion which could be heard far away from here. But other soldiers were relatively far, and it would be best for Penn to wipe out as many natives as possible before he gets shot with arrows from all the natives. Ahead of him, the single native stood silently, holding a torch. Penn and the native looked directly at each other for what felt like hours to Penn. Soon, he heard marching behind him. “Hopefully the riflemen” he thought.

Alepati looked at the soldier standing before him, who looks to be holding some small object in his hands. “Grenade” The word said by the soldier who left with the lantern. Knowing the power of the guns held by the soldiers, whatever this was, it was very lethal. After what felt like hours looking at the soldier, Alepati saw two soldiers walking towards his direction. He hoped those were the riflemen. Two well aimed shots and the archers beside him would be ideal. The riflemen stood on either side of the soldier holding a grenade. One put a lantern on the ground, and both men took out their rifles. Alepati said to the riflemen, “Two archers will come out of the bushes now. Aim for them.” Alepati signaled the archers to come out, which they did. Seeing the riflemen, they both drew their bows. Penn looked at the grenade, which he held tightly in his hand. The grenade was covered in his sweat. The two bowmen now have a perfect chance to shoot and kill both riflemen. Penn knew the best decision now was to throw the grenade. But a gut feeling told him against it.

“Fire!” The sounds of two rifle shots broke the silence of the night. No doubt everyone nearby was awake now. Beside Alepati, two bowmen lay dead. The riflemen reloaded their rifles. Penn knew Alepati screamed to fire. It was his plan. To defect to the Furbish side. The gunshots were loud, and attracted the attention of soldiers in the area. They rushed in from all directions. Penn kept shouting to not fire, this native was unarmed and defecting to the Furbish. The gunshots they heard were from the riflemen killing the two archers there to prevent him from defecting. The entire scene was filled with soldiers gathered near Alepati, Penn convincing them to not shoot at him, and several civilians angry at the disruption to their sleep. Alepati jumped into the trench then climbed out into Kanton. Penn put his musket away, then held Alepati with one hand and his saber in the other. The rest of the soldiers did not bother attacking, but instead made sure the surrounding civilians would leave him alone. A captive would be useful to gather intelligence about the natives.

No one heard Major Borthwell arriving through the chaos. He sat on his horse, looking unhappy to be woken up at this hour. The horse trotted along the streets, also looking tired. Beside Borthwell walked Gray, carrying a lantern. The two men arrived to the crowd of soldiers and angry civilians, unnoticed by almost all in the commotion. Borthwell shouted “All citizens, disperse at once! None of the events here concern you in any way!” Few citizens chose to disobey the orders of the man with gold sleeves and shoulder boards sitting on horseback. But some stayed. Possibly just to see more chaos unfold, or the native get beheaded on the streets. “All soldiers except you two,” Borthwell shouted, pointing at Penn and Gray, “Return back to your paths. No more natives should attack us tonight.” All the soldiers left. They marched back along their paths through Kanton. By this point, the riflemen loaded their rifles and marched away. It was now just Borthwell, Penn, Gray, a native defector, and shouting civilians on the street.

Alepati did not know what will happen to him now. There he stood, in front of two soldiers, an angry sounding officer, and several angry civilians. If this officer was like Tolani, Alepati would have been shot by him as he arrived, without further questioning. Alepati doubted he would be like that, but the officer was not someone to mess with. Civilians left with the officer told them to. When the soldiers tried to earlier, they were ignored. But the officer just sat there, expressionless. He was probably considering a course of action. Anything could happen now, Alepati knew. Maybe his life would end there, with the shot of a pistol. But Borthwell still said nothing. He saw that Gray held the only lantern in the area. Having him light up the path would mean he could not patrol the city. And there was already plenty of soldiers on patrol, far more than what was needed. Two soldiers leaving temporarily should not hurt the city defenses, even if the natives choose to have this raid to happen at night, though that is unlikely.

Penn still held Alepati at sword point, but Alepati seemed to ignore the sword, focusing more on Borthwell and thinking about what will happen. The major turned to the soldiers, then said “We will walk back to the barracks and question him there.” Borthwell kicked the stirrups on his horse and it started walking forward. Gray started walking beside the horse, while carrying the lantern. Penn walked with Alepati behind Borthwell and Gray. The street was completely deserted at this hour. Besides the first few hundred meters of the journey, where people were still awake after hearing the rifle shot, there were no signs of life in the streets. The only sound heard was the sound of boots and horseshoes hitting the ground. Gray was navigating the group. He followed this same path for the third time this night, and felt that he could probably walk it without needing the lantern. No one said a word during the walk. After a few minutes, the four men arrived to the barracks.

Borthwell ordered that Penn and Gray take the native to the prison, while he left his horse in the stables. Borthwell then rejoined the soldiers at the prison. It was a stone building, lined with locked rooms. The prison was only meant to be a temporary location to put prisoners of war, before ships arrived to carry them off to a prisoner of war camp in some remote island. Guards were supposed to stand there, but the prison was empty. By the time Borthwell arrived, Penn and Gray stood near a cell. Alepati stood beside them. Borthwell turned to both soldiers. “Bring a guard to this cell, then continue on your patrols.” Both soldiers turned and walked down the hallway, leaving Borthwell and Alepati alone in the dark room. Borthwell turned to the native, ready to see what was happening with him. “Let’s begin the questions. Tell me, who are you, and why have you come here with two bowmen just to have both of them shot?”

“My name is Alepati,” the native began, “I’ve been sent to spy on the city three years ago. The current chief Tolani send me here to tell you that he will take over, and sent two archers to protect me. I wanted them shot and to join you because I believe you would make better leaders than Tolani.”

“I’ve been told you overheard his plans for a raid tomorrow. What did you hear?”

“He said the location was near where your train tracks crossed the trench. He said a force of fifty would attack, and a hundred more would stand behind if you counter attacked.”

Borthwell noted the time and strength of the attack, which nearly matched his predictions. He continued, “Did they send a large force behind the attackers after all raids?”

“By the way he said that, yes.”

By that time, the door creaked open, and a soldier walked down the hall to Borthwell and Alepati. His musket was behind his back, and he held the keys to a cell. Borthwell ignored him, continuing questioning Alepati. “Does your chief know you may be captured and give away the plan, and change the attack to somewhere else?”

Alepati realized the officer had a point. He replied, “I’m sure he expects that I may be shot dead instead of questioned. Even if he does suspect that I could be captured, Tolani cares too much about his pride to attack somewhere else.”

“Good. This is all the questions I have for you. You will spend the night in here. If there is a raid at that location, you will be released after it will have been driven back. If not, I will personally shoot you.”

Borthwell turned to the soldier standing beside him. The soldier said “Sir, I have been called here to guard the cells.” Borthwell replied, “Good. Make sure he does not escape. You will be replaced by another guard in a few hours.” With that, Borthwell marched away back to the barracks. The guard opened the cell door. To his surprise, Alepati stepped inside just as it opened. It was rare for prisoners to be this obedient. The guard locked the door, then stood by the entrance to the prison. It would be a long night for him, but at least he would not be on patrol tomorrow.

[Furbish Islands]

Near Kanton Trainyard
Kanton City-Province, Furby Island
Late Morning, 26-1-1845

A large line of soldiers stood in the trenches near the Kanton railroad. They were the first group to receive church service, and just after that were ordered to man the trenches because there would be an attack. Lieutenant Albin Vlemming was unsure how Borthwell knew that an attack would come at this location. Even more strangely, Borthwell gave the exact numbers for the attack, and the exact plans of the natives. Fifty natives would attack near the Kanton train yard, and a hundred more behind them in case of a Furbish counterattack. A day earlier all he said was that there was probably going to be an attack today, and have about four dozen natives in the attack. Something changed overnight, and Vlemming had no idea what. The major clearly did not look like he was mad when he described the situation and gave the order. But it still did not seem right. Whatever happened overnight, Vlemming had no choice but to obey Borthwell’s orders. He repeated the plan in his head, and looked to see his soldiers standing in the trench, and far behind them the green uniforms of the Kanton Company army.

Lieutenant Fletcher Kildare stood with his platoon on the south end of the line. South of the railroad, which cuts him off from the rest of his company, and the SVF platoon in the north end of the line. The blue coated SVF commander gave specific details as to what the native plan is, where to stand, and how to respond. There would be an attack in this area. Wherever the natives attacked, soldiers nearby must respond, and the rest must go over the top of the trench, march very far ahead, then fight the hundred strong native force standing behind the natives that will attack. The commander predicted an attack near the railroad, between Lieutenant Lenard Robertson’s and Kildare’s platoons, or near the center of Robertson’s. Though the only thing the commander seemed to know was that the attack would be “near the railroad”, and “near the railroad” could be a stretch. It could be as far as Lieutenant Garnett McLelland’s platoon, or even the SVF. Or the natives could try crossing the railroad, and risk being hit by a train.

Major Terrance Lamb stood beside his second in command, Captain Benjamin Abberton, near the trench and long line of soldiers. Both men carefully watched their soldiers, and the jungle ahead for any signs of a the natives. The soldiers before them stood for hours under the hot winter sun, ordered to move just after the end of church service in the morning. The soldiers held fully loaded muskets. Some by this point just wanted the attack to happen, because fighting is less boring than standing for hours and waiting for one. Some already looked exhausted, and Lamb was surprised to see that none of the soldiers in the trench fell asleep or pulled their triggers by accident yet. He too no longer wanted to stand here, and Abberton seemed to share the same feeling. However, abandoning this position would result in an angry SVF commander and General Clements. And possibly natives in the city. But Lamb was thinking that, he heard the sound of a musket go off.

The sound of the shot was immediately followed by several more. The shots seemed far too loud, and not in the direction where they were supposed to come from. The natives should be attacking near the railroad, nowhere near where Lamb and Abberton stood. But they both looked left, to the direction of where they heard the shots, and saw the natives right in the center of McLelland’s platoon. They came out, all shooting arrows and swinging their spears, while soldiers fired and reloaded their muskets, or swung at close natives with their bayonets. Further down the line, the blue coated SVF soldiers were already moving, and the commanding officer pointed south before disappearing into the trench. For whatever reason, probably a mistrust of the Kanton Company force, or a better trust of his own officer, or possibly both, the SVF commander said that the lieutenant would be in charge of this battle. Lamb and Abberton had no choice but to go with the platoons farther south, as the SVF lieutenant showed. Both officers ran down the line.

Vlemming heard gunshots. This was near the railway, as Borthwell predicted, but a lot farther from it than what he expected. Wherever the natives attacked, soldiers nearby must respond, and the rest must go over the top of the trench. The hundred strong native force behind the attackers should not be this close, and definitely should not guard the flanks according to Borthwell, at least not too far. Vlemming unsheathed his saber and pointed it to a spot in the jungle in front of a location his platoon was standing at. It was relatively far from where the attack was, so the natives should not notice, ideally. Vlemming shouted “Over the top! Go here!” The soldiers all obeyed the orders, jumping over the trenches, and dissapearing into the jungle, and hopefully running to the same location. Vlemming turned to see two Kanton Company Army officers watching the line, and at him. He pointed south, to the two platoons jumping over the trenches, hoping they knew he motioned to go with them. Vlemming then jumped in the trench, climbed out, and entered the jungle.

Lieutenant Garnett McLelland was surprised when the natives attacked. He expected to follow the SVF lieutenant through the jungle, but the natives launched the attack in the center of his platoon. His soldiers responded immediately by firing, then ducked down. The first shot hit a native in the leg. Blood spewed out into the jungle and trench below, some on the soldier. He ducked, taking cover in the trench while he reloaded his musket. The native was shot several more times by soldiers, in the legs mostly, but the final shot hit the side of his head and he fell over. Two more natives nearby were shot at, and both fell over dead as well. McLelland himself jumped into the trench and took a shot as well, though it missed. The native ran at him. Thinking quickly, McLelland thrust bayonet at the native, killing him. Other soldiers in McLelland’s platoon ran to the location of the gunfire and took shots, then took cover to reload. Musket balls whizzed past everywhere, some hitting the natives without killing them, and some missed entirely, but some shots killed the natives that were targetted.

The amount of blood in the trench was sickening, but the soldiers had no time to worry about that at the moment. They were fighting for the safety of the city and its people, and to protect the assets of the Kanton Company, which is why they were all hired. They had their lives at stake as well The SVF would punish all the soldiers harshly if they chose to desert. The first soldier who fired was soon done reloading his musket. He stood back up to see a large amount of natives headed for him. The soldier took a shot, but this time did not take cover to reload. He swung the gun with the bayonet at the charging natives, wounding many. McLelland stood up and saw this, and realized this area would turn into a literal pile of corpses, and someone will have to clean this up. Unfortunately for him, the natives would not stick around after this battle. McLelland was almost distracted by this pile, but was snapped back into reality by an arrow which nearly missed him. He took a shot at what he thought was the source, but he hit a tree. The arrow was shot from a location far from here, and the source had many more.

The shots were quieter than Kildare expected, meaning they were far away. It was not near his platoon, and looking at Robertson, he realized it was far away. Kildare shouted “Over the top! Meet near railroad!”. The light green coated soldiers all did as ordered. Kildare jumped into the trench. It covered him entirely except for his head. The sides of it were steep. Using a wooden step embedded in the side of the trench, which were probably there since it was dug three years ago, Kildare climbed up and entered the jungle, for the first time since the end of the last war. On all sides there were trees, vines, bushes, and other plants, but on one side was the railroad. Fortunately for Kildare, the soldiers’ light green coats stood out in the darker green vegetation. There, he counted, and saw that his entire platoon met at that location. On the other side of the Railroad stood Robertson and his platoon, and by the looks of it his soldiers were present as well. Both men knew what they had to do from there. March ahead, then attack a larger native force from behind.

Vlemming marched forward, followed by the rest of the soldiers under his command. Not long after they entered the jungle and met at this point, Vlemming ordered them to march in formation, and to have soldiers with guns ready looking at all sides for a native attack. The sun was blocked out by the large trees, and there was no trail. The soldiers’ sense of direction and distance was their only was of navigating, and they hoped they would march to the back of the native formation. Borthwell said the soldiers should march about a kilometer, then turn and march to the side, then march back to the direction of Kanton and hope they find the natives while they do. It was a risky plan, but at worst Borthwell believed the soldiers would run into the natives and defeat them. Vlemming repeated the major’s words in his head, as his soldiers marched forward, overpowered any animal in the area with the sound of their boots. The soldiers held guns before them, and the ones at the sides and back of the formation looked carefully towards the jungle, in case the natives find the platoon and attack it.

McLelland popped his head out from the trench for a third time since the beginning of the engagement began, fired blindly into the jungle, then ducked down to reload. Soldiers around them did the same. But now, before his platoon, was a second problem. Corpses began piling in front of the trenches. Soldiers soon were forced to use the wood step to see over this pile. Jumping over it would be near impossible, but McLelland feared that this would be the only to shoot over the corpses soon. From the other side of this pile and the treeline, arrows kept coming, along with a few spears. His soldiers began firing more blindly now, fearing getting shot. The soldier who swung his bayonet was no longer doing so, choosing to continue the hit and duck sequence the rest of the soldiers were doing. The natives too feared getting shot by the more lethal muskets held by the Furbish. Archers hid behind trees and retreated after every shot fired. No side dared to look at the other and realize that more aggressive action from one of them could win this fight.

Makanui stood with his forces, far behind the small group of natives sent to attack the white devils’ settlement. For the past few minutes, all he heard was the fire of their weapons, but no attacks over their trench. Something happened in the past war, Makanui did not know what, but they seem more cowardly than three years ago. Instead of aggressively taking on any threat, they just repel them and sit there. They must have enough territory, or even far too much. The latter case would be ideal, as a well planned attack in two ends of the city could stretch the defenders so thin that a third attack in between would result in a breakthrough. But Tolani would not listen, instead ordering a concentrated attack in this area. Tolani kept ordering stronger attacks to have the white devils counterattack, falling into a trap set up in the form of a larger native force. Makanui felt that this attack would suffer the same fate. He ordered his force to stay put, and walked back to camp with two archers. He doubted he will be needed, so he walked back and continued planning the final battle, that will remove the white devils from the area.

It has only been twenty minutes since the soldiers in Vlemming’s Platoon jumped over the top of the trenches and began marching through the jungle, but it felt like forever. Marching through the dense jungle, looking at all sides for a native attack was not the ideal way to spend his hot Sunday afternoon. “Halt!” Vlemming’s order came out of nowhere, and the soldiers stopped. It seemed strange, as nothing was different about the location where the soldiers stood in. Vlemming first took a sip of water, and the rest of the soldiers did the same, knowing this might be the last chance to do so before a fight. After Vlemming took his sip, he turned south, and began marching forward. The soldiers did the same and followed the lieutenant. Vlemming looked back at his formation after a few seconds, and saw his soldiers all turned and are now marching south. Vlemming saw the soldiers marching after him. They all marched south, as Borthwell ordered to hours ago.

Vlemming expected to march for a short distance, as ordered by Borthwell. The natives should be directly behind, or east, of the natives attacking, and the attackers were not far away. However, just before he was about to turn around again, something ahead caught Vlemming’s eye. He stopped, then slowly, put his musket on his back, and unsheathed his sword. The soldiers were confused. There seemed to be nothing there. Vlemming turned around and said in a hushed tone “Unsheathe your sabers, try to not make a sound.” The soldiers in the front did as followed. In the back ranks, they realized what was going on, and did as the soldiers in the front row did. Vlemming then stepped forward, slowly and quiet, saber in his right hand ready to be swung at any threat encountered. The soldiers behind still looked carefully and either side and the back of the formation. As the soldiers marched forward, they saw what Vlemming saw, and saw exactly why they must stay quiet.

The platoons lead by Kildare and Robertson, marched near each other, separated by the railroad. Lamb and Abberton, in command of the company, marched with Robertson. The small clearing in the jungle was the only source of light, they had, and good way to estimate distance. Far west, buildings could be seen from Kanton. The SVF commander said they should march a kilometer along the jungle, turn north and march to where they believe the smaller group of natives are, and march west to meet the larger group of natives who planned on supporting the smaller group and attack. Lamb frequently looked back along the railroad, to see how far they advanced. After several minutes, there was a sound familiar to some, of the metal wheels hitting the track. Hoping to not cause panic from the crew, the Lamb ordered his soldiers to hide from the train, and resume marching after it drove past. The soldiers did as ordered, then continued on their way. After a long time of marching through the jungle, the platoons stopped where they believed they were a kilometer away from the city. The soldiers began to turn north.

McLelland hoped that reinforcements arrive before his soldiers, or even the natives, run out of ammunition. Arrows kept coming from the jungle, and his soldiers kept firing into it. If his soldiers run out of musket balls, the natives could launch an attack at the entrenched soldiers. Using sabers and bayonets, the soldiers can put up a fight, but it would be bloody. If the natives run out of arrows first, they could retreat, and disappear anywhere in the jungle, or go all out on the soldiers. Both options were not pleasant. McLelland hoped that before any side runs out, the other two Kanton Company platoons, and the SVF platoon, launch the surprise attack on the natives from behind and wipe out the group entirely. It would be significantly less costly in terms of lives for a surprise attack, instead of a native assault on the trench, or the Furbish jumping over the pile of corpses and attacking the natives in the jungle. McLelland picked up his musket and fired again into the crowd, just barely glimpsing blood pouring out from the treeline before ducking again.

Makanui stood in the nearly empty camp, with two archers, and a man he placed there to keep watch. On Makanui’s orders, three of them guarded a small house he sat at, alone, as he planned for a battle that would defeat the white devils once and for all. Two groups of warriors would need to distract the soldiers. A third group would then attack between them, hopefully in an area where soldiers were diverted from, and from there they could take out the soldiers from behind and wreak havoc on the settlement and reclaim it. The problem was the optimal distance between the first two groups. Too close, like on a raid four days earlier, would allow soldiers to fire on all groups. Too far, and not enough troops will be diverted from the center. But as Makanui considered his options. Outside, he heard his guards calling him to see something outside. “It’s not important” he thought. He ignored them. But they kept shouting. “SHUT UP!” he shouted, “And only bother me when it is important!” An archer replied, “Sir it is important.” Makanui decided to see what was going on, but it was already too late.

Vlemming and his soldiers marched slowly, and soon they reached the target. What they saw was a native camp, used by the natives the night before. Supplies were still there. But further ahead, Vlemming saw three natives guarding a hut. He took two soldiers from the front row of the formation and ordered the rest to stay put. The three soldiers quietly marched forward. Somewhere they must have been spotted, as the soldiers seemed to be desperately trying to get the attention of someone inside. The three soldiers hid in a hut, and practically crawling. An important person exited the hut to see why the archers on the outside were so desperate to get his attention. Immediately as he left, Vlemming and the other two soldiers, sabers in hand, sprung up near the four natives. All dropped their weapons. Vlemming realized his prisoners will not understand his language. He ordered the four natives to enter the hut, and the other two soldiers searched them all to make sure they hid no weapons. Vlemming ordered the soldiers to guard, and make sure the four prisoners do not escape. To the rest of his platoon, he shouted “Search this entire camp! Take any prisoners if more are found!”

Lamb lead two platoons, but then heard the sound of movement ahead of him. He ordered the soldiers to stop, but still heard more. It was impossible, someone else was there. But before he could do anything else, a figure began moving through and popped out of a bush. He held a saber in hand, and wore the blue coat of the SVF. “What is going on here?” Lamb asked. The soldier replied “We found a native camp. Four prisoners taken, so far no one else found.”

“Is your commander here?”

“Yes. This way.” The soldier showed Lamb the way, and Lamb, along with Abberton, and the two platoons under Kildare and Robertson followed. Vlemming turned and he was surprised to see them there. The first thing Vlemming did was ask for a few Kanton Company army soldiers to guard the hut containing the four native prisoners. “Where did both of you come from, and where did you plan to turn west?” Vlemming asked. “The edge of the camp is a few meters from the railroad. I believe the other edge would be a good location.” replied Lamb. Vlemming cleared out a spot on the jungle floor, and drew a small map. It was a simple and possibly inaccurate diagram, but displayed the battlefield well enough. A line on the back represented the trench. Next to it was another line, the railroad. Vlemming marked out a spot where the attacking natives and McLelland’s platoon are, a circle for the larger native force, and another circle for the camp. Vlemming then drew lines representing the three platoons, and where they would go. “This is the plan. Any questions?”

In just a few minutes, everything went wrong. Makanui was a capable commander, which is why he lead every raid for the past year. He planned to keep harassing the white settlement, gathering information on the area, and planning a battle to wipe them out. But now, he was their . At first Makanui looked to see why the soldiers guarding him were attempting to get his attention. He left, and looked around, but there was nothing. Then, three enemies popped up next to them, holding their strange weapons. Makanui was familiar with what they held. Long sticks that usually rested in a special black container on the left leg. They were slightly curved at the end, and reflected all light. The edge was sharp, sharper than the tips of arrows and spears. The enemies that popped up had their usual extremely light skin, and most of their bodies were covered in some form of colored cloth. The color of their upper bodies is a strange color that they have access to, and what Makanui can only describe as a darker version of the color of the ocean.

Makanui’s guards dropped their weapons, and the white devils threw them back into hut, and made sure they stayed there. The new guards pulled out different weapons. A longer but hollow stick, which when activated creates a sound of thunder. When it does, it shoots a small rock forward at a speed so fast its unseen until it hits a target, and that rock is extremely lethal. At the tip was a smaller sharp stick, that reflects all light. Makanui expected to be killed, maybe this was the end. But they just stood there and watched. Soon, more rustling was heard, and Makanui saw large amounts of soldiers, wearing different colors, searching the camp. Near the front of his tent, he saw a small group of them, each has his lower arms with rings the color of the sun. One of them, who captured Makanui and his guards, began drawing stuff in the dirt. They kept talking in some unknown language. But something seemed strange about the way they talked. As if their voices did not change pitch at all. Clearly, whoever they are, they could not be human, with skin this white and language this strange.

The white devils stepped away. Instantly, Makanui saw what the blue one drew, and he realized he was in danger. What he saw were lines and circles drawn into the ground. The drawing was simple, but he realized what it meant. These devils knew that there was a large force behind the smaller raiding force. They knew there was a camp and attacked it, and now they will move in to the larger force, and destroy it entirely. But there was no reason they would know about this force. But then another thought hit Makanui. On the meeting with Tolani a night before, a former spy who knew the language was sent to warn them that they will be defeated. He must have heard the plans, then forced to leak them. Then they used that information to perfectly execute the attack. Makanui’s days of leading raids was now over, because someone heard the plans and leaked them. The guards to his hut walked in, and signalled them to leave. Makanui followed them, and ordered the other three warriors to do the same. The four of them were lead by the devils along the railroad.

Once again, platoons under Vlemming, Robertson, and Kildare marched through the dense jungle, this time in the opposite direction. The soldiers marched towards the city now, and towards a large native force that they would ideally launch a surprise attack on from behind. Vlemming further back in his platoon, as he was the leader and his death could cause chaos. The golden stripes of his sleeves could also stand out in the jungle, unlike the black trousers and dark blue coats worn by the soldiers. Further south, the two Kanton Company platoons also marched. Lamb and two the lieutenants marched back in the lines of soldiers. Abberton was not marching with the rest of the group. He was marching along the railroad with a small group of other soldiers, and the four native s. They will be sent to the prison in Kanton, and transported by ship to a far off island. Strangely, the natives seemed to not resist. Abberton guessed this could be a trick, and made sure his soldiers watched them carefully.

Vlemming ordered the two Kanton Company platoons to stop when they see natives, and to not attack until they hear gunshots from the SVF, or was attacked by the natives. So far, all they heard were faint gunshots far ahead, from McLelland’s platoon. A soldier in Vlemming’s platoon suddenly stopped, and so did the rest. All knew what was only a few meters ahead of them in this jungle. This would be the battle the soldiers prepared all day for. No more marching through jungles or searching camps. Vlemming looked ahead and took out his musket. He hoped the Kanton Company platoons were either there awaiting orders or close by. Vlemming’s soldiers arranged themselves into formation, muskets out, aimed ahead. For a moment, all was silent. Sounds of birds or other animals were heard, but not from the soldiers. Ahead, the natives did not notice a thing, thinking the rustling was some animal looking for food but not them. The Kanton Company army was also in formation, as Vlemming hoped. The soldiers stood in silence for what felt like forever, even though it was a few seconds. Then, one shout was heard. “FIRE!”

Three native warriors sat in the jungle, waiting for an attack that will finally have them fighting. Just sitting in the jungle during every raid was boring. But they would soon get what they wish for. All of a sudden the sound of thunder was heard. One warrior fell dead instantly. The other two looked and drew their spears. The rest of the natives were confused too. This attack came from behind, not in the front. Worst of all, Makanui was missing. Some feared the worst. The two natives, seeing their dead comrade saw that this was a wound of a weapon possessed by the white devils. The thought that was in everyone’s mind was “How did they know we are here and attacked from behind?” The second fell dead. Seeing two friends lying dead with blood pouring out on the jungle floor, the third took his spear and charged into the jungle not knowing what he will find. He ran, seeing the familiar black and green cloth worn by them. He threw his spear into the crowd, then was stabbed and fell dead, not knowing if his spear made a hit.

Out of nowhere, a spear flew from the jungle and hit the shoulder of a soldier. Almost instantly, a native came running out from the jungle, straight into his bayonet. A soldier nearby stopped what he was doing and rushed over. The soldier with a spear thrown at his shoulder will survive, if there was a way to stop this bleeding. Both soldiers stayed while the rest of the platoon moved forward. Vlemming shouted orders to move forward, and the soldiers did. First vines were pushed out of the way, then a rush forward. The vegetation blocked the view, and the soldiers did not know what they would fine. Vlemming, charging with his men, stopped short as his bayonet hit something. It was a wide tree. He moved to the side and hit something else, this time the chest of a native. He seemed to be surprised by the expression on his face about this attack, and especially at an attack coming from a bush behind him. Blood poured out of his corpse as Vlemming pulled his musket out. He pushed the corpse out of the way with his gun and moved along.

The natives still tried making sense of what was going on. The white devils did not appear in front of them, but behind them. To the south, a large amount of the white devils wearing a light green attacked. Near the north, they were wearing a dark blue. But they caused chaos everywhere in the group. Makanui’s greatest mistake was believing there would be no counter attack after only a few minutes of fighting near the trenches. Now, he was at the camp when he was needed with the rest of his army most. There was no leadership present in the area, nobody who could organize the force to fight back. Every warrior was fighting to save his own life, usually in vain. Some grabbed the nearest weapon to defend themselves, and fought for a little before dying. Others were simply bayoneted or shot before they realized anything about the threat. Many tried to surrender, but were killed too. All the soldiers moved forward at a pace too fast to stop and think about what was going on. There was one goal on their minds, and that was to kill any native they see.

Lamb ordered a charge independently of Vlemming, believing the SVF lieutenant would have ordered him to do so. The first thing his soldiers came across was the corpses of native warriors, or some injured ones. All had been shot by the volley. A soldier in the front saw a native on the ground before him, wounded but not dead from the musket ball volley. The native looked with pleading eyes, wishing to be spared instead of suffering a death on the battlefield. The soldier would take him prisoner, but in the charge, and with the yelling officers, he knew that was impossible. This poor man would be trampled to death, or just lay there to die in the jungle. Reluctantly, the soldier stabbed him with his bayonet, killing the native. He lay dead, not feeling the boots of the soldiers running over his corpse, about to shoot or stab his comrades. By the time Lamb followed the soldiers, he did not notice the corpse below his feet. Nothing seemed to stand in the way of the advancing soldiers, both the Kanton Company army, and the SVF.

A small group of natives gathered ahead of the marching Kanton Company army, some who have been shot and were visibly bleeding. They held bows and spears, and began throwing their weapons at the advancing Kanton Company army platoons. Some soldiers halted, and opened fire on the group. Many of the shots missed, but one archer fell backwards into the group. Another warrior, who held a spear, suddenly had more blood pouring from his body to the ground. Six soldiers rushed forward, ready to hit the group of natives with their bayonets. A second volley came at the native group, this time causing more damage. Three more fell dead. One fell on a kneeling archer, and another falling corpse pushed another archer. In the tight formation they were standing at, this was enough to cause some confusion and moving around in the group, which was taken advantage of. The six soldiers with bayonets reached that group, bayoneting all of them until they fell. The rest of the soldiers advanced, still shooting at any natives that chose to pop out of the jungle.

The same routine continued for McLelland and his soldier, but soon they began to have hope. Faint gunfire was heard far ahead, meaning the soldiers sent behind did come across the native force. A few minutes later, gunfire was growing louder, but still far. Far to the right, a small group of soldiers exited the jungle near the railroad. To McLelland’s and the rest of his soldiers’ disappointment, they had several natives with them. McLelland’s platoon continued fighting the natives, while the small group of soldiers that appeared pushed the natives into the trench and pulled them up from the other side. From there, they marched to the direction of the prison. Some of the natives who fought realized one of these captives was their leader, Makanui. Something happened, and now he is now in their custody. It possibly is related to the sounds of thunder heard from behind. The natives knew they were going to be defeated, but chose to fight on. This time, more aggressively. Some soldiers will use their bayonets once more, because now there was a charge from the trees.

McLelland did not duck. He kept swinging his bayonet around at the natives. Each one stained it and the ground with more blood, and added another corpse to the large pile on the trench. The situation became desperate, but all of a sudden, more figures began materializing from the jungle. Six men with the Kanton Company army uniform, with muskets and bayonets, popped out of the jungle far to the right. They saw McLelland and his platoon, and the natives, and knew what to do. They ran at the natives, thrusting muskets with bayonets at them. They were now attacked from two directions. Weighing the options, they chose to continue attempting to push into the trench and reach the city. Retreating and deserting was not an option, as consequences for desertion were severe. But some did turn back, and fled into the jungle, seeing this as the only way of surviving the battle. There was a chance Tolani would be forgiving, albeit small. They began to run, but did not make it far.

Vlemming, Robertson, and Kildare were closing in on the natives from behind. Their soldiers kept running forward, killing every native in the way. Suddenly they see a new group. They were running back, at the charging soldiers, but with no weapons. They too were killed. The soldiers did not know they were retreating from what they thought was a losing battle. Soon they reached what looked like the outside, and the natives desperately fighting to climb into the trench. They had one task now, and that was to finish off the natives. Now surrounded, some attempted to surrender, but that was no use. Under orders from the officers, the soldiers made one last charge, into the natives in the center. It was a bloodbath. Natives were bayoneted, then pushed out of the way to the next. There was no time to look at their facial expressions, or see if they wanted to surrender. Each and every one was killed in the chaos. When the last one fell, there was an eerie calm. No more gunpowder, no more screams, just soldiers standing near a pile of corpses they created.

Abberton walked in the prison with a few of his soldiers, one soldier from the SVF, and four native prisoners of war. The prison contained a lone guard, and there was a lone occupied cell. Inside sat another native. The SVF soldier who entered with Abberton said “I was sent by Borthwell to take the next shift.” Turning to the native sitting in the cell, he said “You are released. However, Borthwell wishes to see you.” The old SVF guard opened the native’s cell, then walked out with him to the building Borthwell sat in. The new guard locked the native prisoners in their cells, then sat, guarding the prison. Abberton and the rest of the Kanton Company soldiers walked out of the building. Makanui, now sitting in the cell realized something. The only person there was the native who heard about the plan the night before. He sat in the prison, while the archers did not. But he seemed to have no signs of torture, and willingly obeyed the guard. He was a traitor, and his betrayal caused the loss of this battle and imprisonment of Makanui.

The Furbish force believed that they killed nearly all natives in the area, besides the captives they took. Everyone who took part in the battle knew this. Standing near the pile of corpses, in the silence, some soldiers began to ponder what happened. McLelland stood up from the trench to see the horrifying sight. Each native he saw has one or more visible wounds where a musket ball or bayonet entered his body. They were covered in blood. Some have prints of the patterns of the bottom of the soldiers’ boots. After being killed in the battle, not even their corpses could be taken care of properly. Instead, pushed to the side and trampled, to make way so the next native could be killed. The soldiers ahead had blood all over from from the battle. Their boots had dirt from the jungle floor, as well as blood from the natives they stomped over. Their uniforms were not clean as well. But most of all, their bayonets looked the bloodiest. Soaking entirely from all the natives killed in the fight. It seemed that the blood could not be cleaned from them, both figuratively and literally.

The question the soldiers pondered was, if this bloodshed they all saw was worth it. According to McLelland, it was not. While he understood it was far easier to kill the enemy than to take him prisoner, there was a moral question to it as well. Each corpse in the jungle was a person, who lived a life, and chose to fight for a cause, or was even forced. Each of the one hundred fifty corpses only happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. However, few thought the same as McLelland did. Abberton, who just arrived with a small group of soldiers, was sickened, but believed what happened to them was worth it. The soldiers fought to protect the city of Kanton from native attacks, and sometimes it was necessary to sacrifice a small group of people to save a larger group. Vlemming, who stood near the pile, had a different question on his mind. The corpses could sicken anyone who saw them, and could risk diseases. Borthwell earlier gave orders on what needed to be done next. Dig a mass grave for the natives, and begin digging a trench around a larger swath of land.

Vlemming pointed at a group of soldiers. “Go out in the middle of the jungle out of sight of this city, and dig a mass grave for these corpses. If any dead Furbishman is found, bring him to the hospital.” Looking at the rest of the soldiers, he ordered “A new trench will be dug,”, then pointed towards a spot on the trench, “from there to past the camp to the railroad.” The soldiers looked at the spot he pointed at. Many of them, who already walked the distance, were not looking forward to it. However, they all walked over to the spot, and began digging. The mass grave would be finished and the natives buried in it within a few hours. The trench would be finished by the end of the day, and it will be patrolled by the soldiers throughout the night. Casualties in the first day of the battle were extremely high for the natives, but extremely low for the Furbish. Nearly all natives who fought that day were killed, except for four, who were captured. However, unknown to the Furbish, one native escaped the battle.

The native managed to flee before the charging soldiers surrounded the native army. He started near the city perimeter, just out of sight to anyone watching. Then, he found the trail, taken by him a day earlier. The native ran down the trail to the capital. There, he found Tolani and reported to him what happened during the attack and the loss. He stated he believes Makanui was killed as well, because he should have been found. Tolani was furious, immediately putting the blame on Alepati. who spied on him the night before then revealed his plans to the people who wish for him to be dead. Even if he was tortured for the plans, the way he got a hold of the plans was not to be taken lightly. But it was too late to change, and today was a turning point in the war between the Furbish and Second Kawakau Empire. It was now clear that the days of simple raids are over. Both sides were now at a state of war, and will soon send soldiers to begin attempting to take over land. Today was the beginning of the Kanton Uprising of 1845, and was believed by Tolani to be a rematch of 1842.