The Lost Ones 45.

Summer. The Island Chain. The Sultanate Of Dreese.

He sits upon a white sand beach on the east coast of the island, towards the northern end. Watching the battle that got underway earlier in the morning.
He's been left alone by his captors. Knowing he's got no where to go. Besides the elven spellcaster who brought him here, told him he'll be knocked out if he attempts to leave.
The Viceroy of Dreese sits upon the sand, in the shade of a palm tree. Next to him is a corked water jug, and some food wrapped in cloth.
He's barely touched them as he watches the battle that began well before dawn this morning.
He's got a view across the channel to the other island that's close by. And as the naval battle continues in the channel. He knows his own troops are fighting his older brother's soldiers over on that island to the east. And no doubt, fighting will break out on this island sometime during the day.
The local nobleman, who happens to be a spellcaster, who at this moment in time, is unable to touch his magic as it's been denied to him.
Looks up into the clear blue summer sky, here in the very north of the island chain, that's off the coast of the mainland of Dreese, close to the equator.
And he sees one of his older brother's airships trailing smoke as it streaks across the morning sky.
He doesn't know if it was hit by magetubes from one of his own airships. Or by a spellcaster in his forces.
But whatever or whoever did it, brings a smile to the face of the Viceroy of Dreese as he watches the damaged enemy airship head northwards, slowly dropping down towards the water, which no doubt it will eventually hit.
The local spellcaster from his position on the beach. North of the action taking part in the channel between the two islands.
Can see that his forces, the bulk of what remains of those loyal to him after his failed coup against his older brother the Sultan of Dreese.
Are putting up a hell of a fight on the water, and in the air. The Viceroy figures it's similar on the ground, over on the island to the east, on the otherside of the channel. And no doubt, they'll do likewise once fighting breaks out on this island that he's on.
The local nobleman was told by one of his captors, the one called the lord. That the battle here will be a fairly tough one for both sides. And that his older brother's forces, with it's superior numbers. Will take significant losses. Significant losses that are on purpose to. As his captor, the lord freely admitted that was his plan.
The Viceroy of Dreese, well former Viceroy to be exact, as his older brother the Sultan of Dreese has stripped him of his position.
Clearly sees that plan in action as he watches the battle from one of the white sand beaches along the east side of the island that lies to the west of the channel.
The nobleborn spellcaster sees out in the channel, one of his ships in his fleet sinking, as it's on fire.
Though there's a badly damaged enemy frigate close to it, limping away, with one of it's masts down.
And a smaller enemy cutter, that's nearby too. And that's badly damaged as well.
Infact there's still fighting going onboard that vessel in the Sultan's fleet. As some of the Viceroy's forces who boarded it, are fighting to the death.
The local nobleman looks away to the south when he spots something out of the corner of his eye.
He's not to sure, but it's either an energyball or a fireball. Whatever it is, it's red. And it's left this island, about a mile and half away down the coast to the south from where he is.
And it's going out across the channel, just a few feet above the water.
The Viceroy of Dreese slightly frowns as he wonders where it's going to. Then he faintly grins as he sees it's trajectory will take it right into the path of the enemy frigate with a mast down, that's trying to sail away from the battle.
The younger brother of the supreme ruler of Dreese sees the damaged enemy frigate trying to turn. It can, but barely, and it doesn't deviate too much from it's current course in the channel.
The local nobleman can only assume that the enemy crew and soldiers onboard it can see what's coming towards them.
And with the state of their vessel, they're unable to get out of the way of the oncoming ball of magic that's heading towards them across the water.
"Yep" quietly says the Viceroy of Dreese, who continues with "A fireball".
As he sees the telltale sign of a fireball hitting the damaged enemy frigate, and explode with liquid fire, that sets the already damaged vessel on fire.
The worst thing about a fireball, is that what it sets alight, can't be put out by water. All you do when you chuck water on the flames created by it, is spread the liquid fire around.
And the Viceroy, from where even he sits on the east facing beach towards the north end of the island. Can see the fire rapidly spreading across the enemy frigate, as the enemy crew try to douse the flames with buckets of sea water.
Others already see the futility of trying to put the fire out. And they jump overboard into the water.
Some jump clear, while others hit the flames that are floating on the water around part of the doomed vessel.
The liquid fire from a fireball floats upon water. It's why that particular spell is one of the more lethal spells to be cast in a naval battle.
A spell that's not just dangerous to opposition forces, but also your own if they're close by when it hits it's target.
It's a reason why that particular spell is used judiciously by most practitioners of magic during a battle at sea.
After taking a drink of water from the stoneware jug next to him. The Viceroy of Dreese looks up into the morning sky again, away to the south above the channel. When he hears the echoing booms of magetubes firing.
He sees the destructive balls of pure energy, some nearly twenty feet wide. Crisscrossing the sky away to the south. As one of the airships in his own fleet, engages in aerial battle with a flying warship in his older brother's fleet.
The local nobleman winces, as magetubes aren't exactly common here in Dreese, or for that matter, in many of the nations along the east coast of the continent.
He has only a finite number of them in his fleet of airships. Likewise for the airships in the Sultan's airfleet.
The Viceroy who is quite some distance from those two airships trying to blow each other out of the sky.
Has to squint and shade his eyes as he looks away to the south down the channel. And tries to identify which airship is which. As many of the vessels in both fleets. Especially the airships, look very similar. After all, they were all one fleet under the command of the Viceroy, until he launched a coup against his older brother the Sultan. A coup that ultimately failed, and turned into a war between the two brothers in the royal family that's ruled the Sultanate of Dreese for quite a number of generations.
The local spellcaster, who has been unable to touch his magic ever since he was taken captive.
Sees the two airships circling as they try to avoid the magetube shots fired at one another.
He stands up, and shades his eyes, to try and see which airship is which. Then the younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese slightly nods his head as he dentifies which flying warship belongs to which fleet.
"Come on" murmurs the Viceroy, who then adds "You can do it" as he urges on those who are flying and crewing the airship that's part of his fleet.
As it, as well as the enemy airship, shoot another barrage of magetube shots at each other.
Every other airship in both fleets in that part of the sky, have taken off and got quickly out of the way. As they don't want to get hit by a stray magetube shot. Which is just as likely to come from one of their own ships that's engaged in combat, just as it is to come from the enemy airship.
The local nobleman continues to watch the dueling airships, who fire shot after shot at one another.
So much so, that the part of the sky they're in, is as lethal of a place you'll likely ever to see, anywhere.
The younger brother of the supreme ruler of Dreese, who is just glad that the Sultan's flagship is nowhere to be seen. As his captor the lord told him, he'd try to keep the Sultan out of the fight for as long as possible.
Winces when he sees one of the two circling airships away to the south, finally get clipped by a magetube shot.
Blasting away a fair chunk of the stern of that particular flying vessel.
The Viceroy, with a hand raised to shade his eyes. Wonders whose airship that it is. Then he grins when he recognises that it's part of his older brother's airfleet.
The local spellcaster, who is from the mainland of Dreese, then lets out a whoop of delight when another magetube shot slams into that enemy airship. Blasting apart one of it's two masts. Sending bits of debris flying in all directions.
As that airship starts dropping out of the sky. The Viceroy sees the warship that's part of his own fleet that hit that enemy airship.
Break off the engagement, and move away instead of pursuing the damaged enemy warship, that's dropping down out of the sky.
The younger of the two nobleborn brothers who are at war with one another. Nods his head in approval at the actions of his airship, it's captain and crew.
For the simple reason they might come under attack from enemy spellcasters onboard the ships on the water, if they drop down to pursue the badly damaged enemy airship.
Instead, they turn their vessel to port on an angle, and shoot off a salvo of magetube shots on their port side, down at the enemy sailing ships who are to the rear of the battle on the water.
And though seven of the ten shots miss. Three hit, with one just clipping the bow of troop carrying ship.
While the two other magetube shots slam right down upon an enemy clipper, heading to the south end of the island that the Viceroy is on.
That particular vessel is completely destroyed, as the two magetube shots explode, blasting apart the small sailing ship. Sending debris and water flying in all directions in the explosions that are simultaneous.
"Another one gone" murmurs the Viceroy of Dreese to himself.
He's not referring to the enemy cutter that was just totally annihilated.
He's referring to one of his own sailing ships, that's just caught on fire after being targeted by an enemy spellcaster.
One of the practitioners of magic in his older brother's fleet. And not one who the Sultan of Dreese has under his direct control.
A tight grin appears on the face of the local nobleman when he sees the burning ship continue to plow through the water, towards some of the enemy vessels in the channel between the two islands.
A trio of the enemy vessels scatter as the burning ship comes straight at them.
The Viceroy nods and murmurs "May the gods of the sea guide you". As he watches one of his ships, the bow, and much of a midships engulfed in flames. Hit one of the enemy vessels trying to flee. Hitting it on the port quarter to stern.
Even from where he is on an empty beach up the coast. The local spellcaster hears the impact of the two ships colliding in the channel.
He's proud of the crew of that particular ship, as it's able to set the enemy vessel it just rammed, on fire.
The Viceroy recalls the young captain of that ship, which is starting to sink now. The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese, will always remember the young captain and his crew no matter what.
For the local spellcaster, who knows he might not live beyond this battle, no matter what he's been told by his captors.
Will always remember that young captain and his crew. And the others who are fighting and dying for his cause, here in the two northern most islands of the chain, in the Sultanate of Dreese.
On what's another warm tropical summer's day, not all that far from the equator.
The Viceroy sits back down on the shade beneath the palm tree. And after taking another sip of water. And taking out a flatbread, wrapped around some cold, spiced meat from the food wrapped in the cloth, and starts to eat it.
The local nobleman continues to watch the battle that's taking place this morning, predominantly on the water and in the air. As well as across on the island on the otherside of the channel.
The Viceroy takes his time eating the flatbread, after all this could be the last food he ever eats.
And as he sees one of his sailing ships go up in instantaneous flames. While a nearby enemy vessel breaks apart at the waterline and starts to sink.
The younger brother of the Sultan of Dreese looks away to the south, and spots a few of the enemy vessels, have turned, and are making their way to this island. At the south end, though on this coast.
And though a number of the enemy's fleet have got in close to the other island, on the east side of the channel.
And launched boat after boat, full of the Sultan's soldiers, and landed them onto that island on the otherside of the channel.
They haven't done so yet on this side of the channel of water between the two islands.
The Viceroy of Dreese sees that's about to change fairly soon. And within a short amount of time, his older brother's forces will be on this island.
"Damn" murmurs the local spellcaster under his breath as he watches the enemy vessels heading to a point at the southern end of this coast.
The member of the royal family that's led the Sultanate of Dreese for a number of generations.
Knows that if the enemy fight their way northwards along the coast. They'll capture him sometime late in the day, or tomorrow.
Though his captors have told him, that they'll do the actual capturing. As they don't want anything untowards to happen to him.
The Viceroy can understand why. As they've devised a plan to kill the Sultan of Dreese. A plan that the younger brother of the supreme ruler of the Sultanate of Dreese, is vital towards. Infact, he's the most important thing about it.
A plan that the Viceroy, who now knows an awful lot of it. Thinks is so absolutely crazy to say the least, that it might just work.
After a while, as it nears midday, and the heat of the day has driven the Viceroy higher up the beach to where the palm trees are thicker, and there's more shade.
He sees that the battle on the water, and especially in the sky has slowed down.
Not so on the island across on the otherside of the channel. As he sees that more of the enemy are on that island now.
And that more of them are making their way on to this island on this side of the channel.
Infact, the local nobleman has seen a couple of the enemy ships put in, just a few miles to the south of where he is.
He's also seen an enemy airship crash just off the cove, directly to south of where he is. Less than half a mile away. Though he didn't see any survivors get off that downed airship.
Which he can see the two masts of, sticking out of the water, in the cove directly south of where he is.
The Viceroy of Dreese is just wondering when any of the enemy will show up here, when suddenly one of his captors appears beside him.
It's the elf in the white hooded cloak. Who crouches down beside the nobleman from the mainland of Dreese.
"How are you faring highness?" asks Helbe the elven thief.
"As well as i can be i suppose" is the reply from the Viceroy of Dreese.
The young elven noble from the island principality of Laerel, which is all the way on the otherside of the continent, off the coast of the Southlands, nods his hooded head to that.
Then the highly talented elven magic user says "We've started putting the Sultan's forces on the south end of this island".
The elven masterthief, who happens to be the grandson of the ruling prince of Laerel, continues with "The fighting will be heavy as they make their way north to this end of the island".
Helbe the elven thief, who is a member of the personal council to lord Farque, briefly pauses before he adds "You won't be captured until late tonight, or early in the morning".
"Then straight to my brother?" asks the Viceroy of Dreese, who rather hopes his captors plans are successful.
"Yes" says the elven princeling from Laerel, who then adds "Straight to your brother".
The local nobleman nods his head, then goes back to watching the battle on the water and in the sky.
And though it's no where near as hectic as it was this morning. The fighting on the water and in the air, is just as deadly and as lethal as it's been so far during the battle . . . . . .