[center]Sentinel 30th of Midyear, 4E 205 [i]Stroking The Flames of War[/i][/center] Temijen sat back heavily his throne as he absorbed this most recent and unprecedented news. Fleet Admiral T'ozun had only recently returned to Sentinel, with dire news at his heels. Temijen had decided to meet him in the main council chambers, expecting the worse, but even then he was not prepared for the news. Nearly over two hundred and fifty ships lost! It was a great blow to be sure, but more troubling was the news of the Altmer’s apparent new and unlikely allies who had turned the tide. T’ozun stood his head low in shame, his arms folded before him, looking quite miserable and defeated. He had come with such sour news fully expecting Temijen to become infuriated. Temijen merely sat quietly for a moment as he considered the implications. Others of the council of Patron Fathers sat silently as well, hardly believing the news. T’ozun was the first to break the silence. “I take full responsibility for my actions and failures, I understand if you wish me to step down as Admrial…” Temijen was already shaking his head however before he even finished. “No…no that will not be necessary, you did as best you could given the circumstances. None of us could have predicted the return of the sea elves, I admit they had never factored into my plans. This changes everything.” “How long can Stros M'kai withstand a siege?” Voiced one worried noble, a Velves by the name of Phisinia. “Or have the altmer already begun their assault?” T’ozun gave the man a grim look. “It should hold for a month at most, thanks to the supplies sent there for supporting a campaign in Valenwood would the need arise, and from what we saw in our retreat, it seemed they were content in merely blockading the island.” “And….what of…” Temijen began to ask in a strained voice. T’ozun knew instantly of who he referred to, the only women of his own flesh and blood on Stros M'kai. “She remained in the palace to oversee the defences there directly; I didn’t want her involved in the naval battle. It seemed I may or erred of choose wisely, for now she is stuck on the island with the rest of the defense forces.” Temijen said nothing at that, going quite again, his face unreadable as his dark eyes seemed to look elsewhere. “We must dispatch another fleet to remove the High elf taint from Stros M'kai!” shouted on crown noblemen, a warlord of some repute, though he was no naval commander. Another laughed as he rebuked his fellow. “What? We already lost nearly half the fleet in this one battle! To commit to another would be madness! We all have heard the tales of the sea elves are capable of!” They quickly started bickering then; shouting back and forth, many conflicted in how to respond to this new and unexpected threat. As the arguing reached a higher and higher pitch, Temijen quieted them quickly but with a single word. “Enough.” He did not raise his voice yet it echoed throughout the chamber powerfully. “We will not start bickering and fighting among ourselves while the enemy line up at our very gates. Now I must admit I am also taken aback by the news of these…sea elves, returning to the scene of Tamriel, it seems Varnklith had sightings of ships similar to sea elven make, but at the time I had almost been convinced he had been dipping into skooma. Now we know better, but we cannot face this new threat openly and by conventional means. We must bid our time, and hope our forces can weather the storm for the moment. Now, how many ships are left to us in the wake of these events?” T’ozun shifted uncomfortably as he responded. “Roughly 200 war vessels remain, the majority of them are in the Iliac Bay, or docked here in Sentinel. Our shipyards should be able to replace the lost vessels in as little as two weeks’ time, but the man power to replace lost crew will take longer.” Temijen sighed. “It cannot be helped then. Restrict the fleet to the bay for now as we rebuild our fleet, in the meantime we must prepare for the high probability that the high elves will be taking the fight to Hammerfell itself. Send word to Ortho'Velve Azzast and tell him to assemble the Lance Defenders. If it is a war Alinor seeks, it is a war they shall have.” ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [center] Stros M'kai, Palace 4th of Sun's Height, 4E 205[/center] Kiainia leaned forward, her hands feeling warm on the stonework, as she watched the distant outlines of altmer ships. The several days earlier had been an intense blood bath, and had surely been a sight to see. Even from the high elevation the palace tower had given her, it had been difficult to tell who was winning. In the end however, the Yokudan fleet had been forced to retreat in the face of the altmer warships. Their odd looking new ships had been the deciding factor it seemed. Now Kiainia and the ra-gada left on the island were forced to fend for themselves. The only saving grace had been the elves lack of an actual attempt to besiege the city or palace proper, instead seemed intent on blockading the island itself, as scouts had found no altmer landings on any of the shorelines that would have allowed them easy access to the island. There had been no attempt at seizing, and perhaps securing the critical pieces of terrain that would aid them in a siege. In fact it seemed they were intent on just allowing Ra-gada forces to sit and wait there in peace. Kiainia could see no strategic reasoning behind any of it, aside from the fact they were hoping to simply wait for reinforcement’s before attempting to take the island. With no enemy forces on the island itself, the redguards had taken full advantage, with scavenging parties sent out to gather all the fresh fruits, and supplies they could gather. Thankfully the island was rich in natural resources, and fresh water, and with the supplies already harbored in the catacombs, the warlords estimated they would be able to last a month without oversea aid, and a month and a half if they rationed well, which brought to mind the sword singers still on the island. While every redguard had trained their mind and body to great lengths, the ansei certainly took it to another level, meditating stock still for hours on end, never moving a muscle… Shaking the thought from her mind Kiainia stepped back from the wall and returned to patrolling the tower and watching for the slightest hint of the enemy. She came to the west end of the tower, this pillar being the most southern east of them, and looked down at the single bridge to the palaces south. As the countless other times see looked, it stood seemingly deserted, not a mer or man to be seen. Having a sally point on the west end of the palace made using the bridge unnecessary and dangerous at best. At least those points could be collapsed, along with bridge, if the need ever arose. Though it seemed the mer were intent on doing nothing, and the thought was maddening. She almost wished they would try their hand at assaulting the tower already and be done with it. Her eyes soon wondered to the palaces gate, a reinforced and magically warded portal that offered the only way in aside from going under or over the walls, and behind that gate a cleverly built kill-zone. Not that it mattered at that moment; the only real enemy she had to fight was that of boredom and anxiety. The foraging teams and patrols were the only ways left of alleviating the situation, that or gambling away ones daily given rations. With a heavy sigh she stretched and cracked several muscles in her stiff shoulders, as she thought about why she had decided to come to Stros M'kai. At first it had been an attempt at escaping the palace in Sentinel, perhaps even catch that damned Pirate Lord Dupoint. Now she had finally gotten what she wanted, only to be stuck in a palace on Stros M’kai. The Gods surely had a sour sense of humor. [hider=Actions] -Hammerfell begins mobilizing it's forces. -Several Sand Ships are under Construction -Efforts by Ali-baba are made to tame several wind spirits [/hider]