39th
Regiment
Dragon Force
"Sir, look." He heard Andrews yell and in the distance he could see the French mightiest weapon their Chinese Dragon capable of unleashing the Divine wind. The French must have sensed that the reserve would be called in soon and now the 39th would be under assault by that mighty beast. He could feel the hairs on his skin rise as the Dragon roared and a shockwave formed coming towards the 39th.
Suddenly he heard a similiar roar come from behind their lines. It was the British Dragon who had roared. "What were they planning surely the two shockwave would impact causing catastrophic damage", he thought.
"Brace", McDraken yelled out to his troops, seconds before the impact came.
The two shockwaves met and when the dust had settled the 39th had simply vanished.
The Beginning
"The 39th shall stay in reserve until ordered." The words of Field Marshall Brantham still rung in the ears of Donald McDraken. He was restless and his dragon Obduraris could feel it as well.
In the distance the battle had already joined. The French invasion force that had attacked British soil was well prepared, with multiple dragons soaring through the sky. The British Aerial Corps had already been dealt heavy losses and the infantry was now feeling the onslaught of the French dragons.
The New World
As the dust had settled and the mighty blow had subsided, McDraken looked around and realised they
were somewhere else. In the distance strange mountains loomed and even the air smelled strange. The
sounds of battle had completely disappeared.
His forces were still there, shaken but alive. McDraken could see the soldier but also the civilans that
were part of the supply train. Men, women and children that had sought the protection of the Regiment
as it had been marching through England, running from the French.
His first order was that a defensive camp would be set up quickly and that all senior officers report to him immediately.
Soon they had all arrived, Charles Stewart, the Regiments second in command, a devout but capable commander, Robert Alten, the commander of the foot, a grizzly veteran of many wars. Together with them the captains of the infantry and the majors of the cavalry stood side by side. Although not ordered he saw the Regiments three Clergrymen, a strange glow in their eyes. Lastly his fellow Aerial Corps captain of the Land Wyrm Brutus, David Henderson, stepped into the group.
After a long discussion they realised they were no longer in Britain and soon the regiments scouts had confirmed this. Yet they had discovered an old abandoned fortress near the mountain. It would be a perfect position for the Regiment to build their base of operations. The senior officers also decided that because of the lack of resources the lead for bullets and the gunpowder would only be used by the Light Dragoons, the artillery and the cannon on the back of Brutus.
Within a couple of weeks the Regiment had settled into the fortress, now named New England, and was preparing to see what this new world would bring them.
