Honor, Courage, Duty...
Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 8:32 pm
Foghorn paced up and down his office in Norfolk's capitol. All the preperations for the coming struggle were set. There was little for him left to do.
The sun was just rising over the ocean, and the light had begun streaming into the office through the large french windows. The light played over the adornments of his walls, over the various prizes he had taken from battles long over and forgotten.
He walked over to a wooden cabinet on the side of the room opposite the risen sun, unlocked the latch and slid open the door. He smiled as he removed the contents. First his battered Naval Infantry uniform. Stained with salt from the Red Antilles, mud from Velike, dragon's blood from Musica and a recent patch from the swordfight in Ardashir's office, it was little more than a tattered piece of cloth. But, as Napoleon once noted, "A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon". Foghorn snapped the buttons on the front of the jacket closed.
From a rack in the back of the cabinet Foghorn lifted out his sword. He pulled it out of its sheath, inspecting the blade. The nicks from his recent run-in with Ardashir were almost completely buffed out, and the blade was as sharp as ever. He ran the long, silver blade back into its scabbard and fastened the sword to his belt.
One final object appeared from the darkness of the cabinet. A Springfield model 1903 bolt action rifle with attached scope. He had absent mindedly left his old Mosin-Nagant rifle in Babkhan hands, but he felt a closer tie to this weapon than its predecessor. He slid the action open and closed a few times, feeling how much smoother the bold glided along. He slipped five rounds into the magazine, pushed them down so the bolt wouldn't load one as he closed the action and slid the bolt home.
Foghorn swung his newly found rifle over his shoulder as he left his office on the way to fight a new enemy. The first Battalion of Naval Infantry would be shipping out within the hour, with the Second battalion staying in the capitol to defend it. Chris, for some strange reason, had requested a company of Naval Infantrymen. He had detached Alpha company of the second battalion for Chris, who was to pick them up later in the day.
The stage was set. And the pawns were moving.
The sun was just rising over the ocean, and the light had begun streaming into the office through the large french windows. The light played over the adornments of his walls, over the various prizes he had taken from battles long over and forgotten.
He walked over to a wooden cabinet on the side of the room opposite the risen sun, unlocked the latch and slid open the door. He smiled as he removed the contents. First his battered Naval Infantry uniform. Stained with salt from the Red Antilles, mud from Velike, dragon's blood from Musica and a recent patch from the swordfight in Ardashir's office, it was little more than a tattered piece of cloth. But, as Napoleon once noted, "A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon". Foghorn snapped the buttons on the front of the jacket closed.
From a rack in the back of the cabinet Foghorn lifted out his sword. He pulled it out of its sheath, inspecting the blade. The nicks from his recent run-in with Ardashir were almost completely buffed out, and the blade was as sharp as ever. He ran the long, silver blade back into its scabbard and fastened the sword to his belt.
One final object appeared from the darkness of the cabinet. A Springfield model 1903 bolt action rifle with attached scope. He had absent mindedly left his old Mosin-Nagant rifle in Babkhan hands, but he felt a closer tie to this weapon than its predecessor. He slid the action open and closed a few times, feeling how much smoother the bold glided along. He slipped five rounds into the magazine, pushed them down so the bolt wouldn't load one as he closed the action and slid the bolt home.
Foghorn swung his newly found rifle over his shoulder as he left his office on the way to fight a new enemy. The first Battalion of Naval Infantry would be shipping out within the hour, with the Second battalion staying in the capitol to defend it. Chris, for some strange reason, had requested a company of Naval Infantrymen. He had detached Alpha company of the second battalion for Chris, who was to pick them up later in the day.
The stage was set. And the pawns were moving.