Dockyard

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Dorsitt stood on the roof of the dockyard office and stared out to where the fortress would be anchored.  Low clouds had rolled in from the east and their undersides had the unmistakable orange glow of a very large fire.  He shook his head, thinking of all the hassle that was coming his way.  "Some idiot just roasted himself while putting out the night light.  Not my problem."

"Well, yes sir," said his assistant.  "But when the fleet asks for help with rescue or repair it will become our problem."

Dorsitt thought for a moment while the other Rennon stood next to him patiently.  The glow was growing as he watched even with the dawn just starting to lighten the sky behind it.  He keened his head back to look straight up at the cliffs towering over the harbor.  "What does topside say about it?"

"Nothing yet.  They called down on the blower to give an alert."  He pointed over to the military docks a few hundred paces north along the wharf.  A rush of sailors were swarming out of the barracks, running for the cutters lined up in neat formation.

Dorsitt was thinking through the various ways of not helping when he heard the clanging of alarm bells from up on top of the cliffs.  They were ringing in a defensive alarm pattern that meant the harbor itself was under attack.  "Stain it all, what now?"

The assistant suddenly pointed out to the southeast.  "Incoming ships!"

Dorsitt could barely see the line of low sails skimming across the dark water.  "Tormangi skiffs.  Get everyone moving!"  He followed the other man down the steep staircase on the side of the harbormaster's building.  He wasn't exactly sure where his sword even was.

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