The Ghost Ship Message Board: Ready for War

Be advised: M.A. Air Pirates are expected at ANY SECOND! They seek to set all the Iron Nation on fire! His Majesty, King Faisal, has ordered that the entire Nation be placed under a STATE OF EMERGENCY! Arm yourselves and prepare to defend your homeland! Be advised: M.A. Air Pirates are expected...

The outbreak of the war was broadcast upon crude loudspeakers which projected the crackling, frantic voice of the announcer all across the Iron Nation capital of Kislev - grim, sprawling waste of smouldering factories, shanty-towns, razor wire, and decaying fortresses. For three straight hours the voice was played, and replayed, and played, and replayed again and again so that every subject of King Faisal would be aware that the hated Vennish were expected to bring about the battle of Armegeddon at any moment. During this racket and mayhem, so many flares are launched over Kislev that it seemed as if all the Northern seas of the East were on fire. The glow could be seen from the Ghost Ship, from Venway City itself - no doubt giving the populations there the idea that, perhaps, the war was already far worse than it was, in reality.

This was wholely intentional, on Faisal's part. The more mayhem and panic he stirred up over the isles as a whole, the longer it would take Van Dresden and Cypress to launch their blitzkrieg of annihilation upon his home. Or, at least that is what the xenophobic troll king believed.

The troll warlord Brakkish, Air Marshall of the INAS (Iron Nation Air Services) stormed out of his compound on the West End of Kislev, clad in full uniform. The khaki jacket which the troll wore over his broad upper-body seemed alive with medals. Everything from the Black X to the Iron Fist was displayed across his chest proudly. Polished, obisidian jack boots clack against the cobblestone walkway as he walks through a forest of troll airmen, down a path lined with their sabres as they stand in salute to their fearless leader.

On the battlements of the compound's five major castles, Iron Nation guardsmen add to the chaos consuming Kislev by firing bursts from their assault rifles into the illuminated night skies as they scream a devilish and frenzied chorus of troll battlecries, waving iron bayonets and battle-axes as they pay their respects to King and Nation.

The standard of the Iron Nation is soon waving from every corner of the compound - a royal blue flag marked with an iron hammer tilted to the left, wreathed in a circle of thorns. They cheering and braying of the Nation's warriors echoe banefully across the compound, reflecting the pyrotechnic flares spiraling their luminescence across the razor wire which seemed to hang about everything.

Brakkish strolls out of the sabre-salute of his officers haughtily, his blunted trollish features overshadowed by the black bill of his officer's cap. The Air Marshall climbs into the back off a horse-drawn carriage, beside a diplomat from King Faisal, a troll wearing a black and white tuxedo and a top hat. The massive iron gates of the compound opens as the Air Marshall and his retinue are escorted by a team of highly trained Iron Nation cavalrymen to a nearby airfield.

The Kislev aerodrome is the largest of the Nation's minute air service, holding about 10 old Warlock Order-engineered Falcons left over from the Great War and 30 Iron Nation Ravens, the most cutting-edge addition to the trolls' military machine.

The Ravens are one-seater, monoplane fighters, completely unarmored and built in the shape of menacing birds of prey. A single gatling gun is affixed to the nose, which is operated by the pilot sitting in the "head" of the machine. The propellor and engine is located in the rear - a "pusher" design. The Ravens are easy and relatively unexpensive to mass-produce, and can out-run even the M.A.F. Raptors - albeit having a deffinite disadvantage to them in quality of design and sheer firepower.

The Falcons, on the other-hand, were a relic of the Great War. The biplane W.O.A.F. fighters could generally outclimb an M.A.F. Raptor, though speed and general mannuvereability where at risk in the heavier aeroplanes - compared to the light Ravens. In terms of firepower, the Falcons of the INAS are equipped with twin 20mm cannons fastened to either side of the nose, and a payload of 2 light bombs and 4 medium-range anti-airship/personel rockets. Due to their superior fire-power and cost, the Falcons are reserved for the elite of the Iron Nation Air Services.

Soon, one after another, the aeroplanes are sent soaring into the skies. The Air Marshall climbs calmly from the back of his carriage, seeing his own aircraft, a specially modefied Falcon brought out of the central hangar by Air Services personel for the troll warlord - like a knight's charger in this grim, industrial age of battle. Meanwhile, Brakkish is suited up for battle. This veteran of the Great War, who had flown with the W.O.A.F. in the Winterlands and in the Middlelands was completely old school. He wore no helmet or goggles in his open-air cockpit, prefering the nihilistic rush of freezing wind in his face.

Brakkish' Falcon soars into the night sky, followed by the 9 other W.O.A.F. aircraft. As of the Ravens, around half of them were already patrolling the heavens over the Kislev area. As the Air Marshall's squadron passes by in a militant procession of defiance towards the "imperialist" Venway Confederation and their allies, an out of control derigible can be seen colliding destructively with an observation balloon. The city, both on the ground and in the skies, had been rallied to a frenzied boiling point in chaos by the King's tactics. Flames spit in an annihilating torrent as the airship steadily breaks apart - spelling doom for the passengers and crew inside, and the observation balloon is quickly consumed with burning gas. The Air Marshall and his lackeys, however, were still seen high above the pyrotechnics display that has cast a baleful halo of light across the night skies. They were circling Kislev, daring the MAF to challenge them.

The trolls' cheering only gets louder.