Dominus Protector Meus

Chapters

The will of God or simply a turn of fate?
Business as usual?
Contact with foreign ships
By royal decree, from both sides.
On the water with fire and sword
Boots on new land

The will of God or simply a turn of fate?

Kungshuset (Wrangel Palace) –Throne room
Stockholm
Sweden – January 12th, 1700 A.D.
The king clenches his fist against the armrest of his silver throne. In truth, Charles hated the Wrangel Palace. It had been but 3 years since Tre Kronor castle disappeared in a sea of flame and the royal court was forced to move to the Wrangel Palace. A true shame, since the Tre Kronor castle had a long and interesting history. Not to mention splendor. He sighed as he looked down at his throne. Thankfully, it had been but one of two pieces of furniture saved from the fire and rightfully so. This throne was first owned by Queen Kristina and it was used for her coronation in 1650. He was thankful for whatever servant carried it out of the castle instead of running for his or her life. He would have to find this person and commend him. An elevated position, somewhere. Perhaps even with a uniform?

But for now, he was stuck in court. While he was only 18 years of age, he held strong against his royal court and had already implemented a few strong policies and taxes to get his kingdom and empire on the right track. Like his father, he was skeptical of his council. It is true that he held absolute power over his kingdom and that the council was mostly useless since the reforms of his father Charles XI. He preferred to take actions into his own hands when he could but some things are best decided in group and that is precisely the reason why he kept them around. For the moment, he would listen to his court until something more interesting came up. What made matters worse, his night had been disturbed by a sudden lightning storm last night. He hadn’t been able to get one ounce of sleep.

The court was busy discussing of what percentage of tax to put on tobacco when suddenly a man slammed open the doors to the royal throne room. He immediately recognized the man as a fellow councilman by the name of Axel Horn. He did not know the man personally, but from the rumors around the palace he knew that he was a truthful man. The man had been gone for weeks, inspecting his holdings in Bohuslän. The court fell silent as the man marched towards the throne. He stopped in the middle of the room. He seemed odd. Unusually silent and the face of slight madness. His skin was rough, and his eyes bloodshot. He seemed like he had been riding for the past night non-stop.

As he spoke, the king heard that his voice was torn and tired, even hoarse. His untidy appearance was certainly not something you would show yourself to your king in. “My king….” He spoke silently. He drew in a large breath. “It is with the most horrific of news I come before you.” The king raised his head slightly. He cleared his throat and spoke. “Speak, Axel. I expect your news to be most dire if you decide to come in front of your king in that attire.” Axel did not even react to the jab, but continued to speak. “I regret to inform your majesty, that….” He seemed hesitant for a moment, before he continued. “…that Norway is gone.” His voice quieted down after speaking this simple, meaningful sentence.

The fellow council-members began laughing. One chap in particular who was known to be overly arrogant spoke. “That is the most absurd and laughable thing I have ever heard. Whatever do you mean Norway is gone?” He withheld his snickering as Axel continued to speak.
“As some of you may know, I was going to investigate my newly acquired holdings in Bohuslän. On the way there, there was the most terrible of thunderstorms. People were running for their lives the morning after! A simple thunderstorm couldn’t have frightened the peasants.” He drew in a breath and continued his story. “I did as any respectful and god-willing man would. Tried to find someone who knew what was happening. I quite quickly commanded one of the running peasants to inform me of what was going on.” The king listened intently, while the council-members were busy holding their laughter. “The peasant spoke with fear in his eyes. He told me that he had been close to the border, hunting. As he was getting ready to retire to his tent, the thunderstorm was upon them. He felt the ground itself shift and when he looked outside his tent, he was suddenly presented with an ocean! The mountains to the north were collapsing and reshaping into a new coast! He described it as if god himself had simply cut Norway from the map!”

The council-members began laughing once more. This time however, the king would have none of it. He clapped his hands. “Silence!” The aristocracy quieted down at the command of their king quite quickly. The king looked back towards Axel. “My good man, you are a servant of the lord are you not?” Axel nodded quite quickly. “And you know the penalty for lying to a king?” Again, he nodded. “Do you still claim that you are telling the truth?” Axel nodded a third time.

A spur of action came from the king. He raised his finger and pointed towards one councilman in particular, who had been silent until now. That man was Carl Gustav Rehnskiöld, a man who the king held in great regard as a military commander and also happened to be the marshal of the Swedish army. “Carl. Send out four of your best scouts. Two of the west and south respectively.” Carl bowed with extravaganza towards the king. “I will do so at once, my king.” He rose quickly and moved with purpose out the throne room.

The king sat down once more, put his hands together and looked towards Axel. “Tell me more.” He commanded with an autocratic voice. Axel took a deep breath and prepared to continue.

Business as usual?

Canterlot Castle – Royal Dining Room
Equestria. January 12th, 1232 A.C
The day had been uneventful for Princess Celestia and Luna. The daily court was over and they had sat down for lunch. On the menu today was Grassroot-Stew with mayonnaise. They were both drinking the finest wine, made by Equestrian hooves down in the south. They continued their conversation.

“…as I said, Luna. We cannot simply walk all over the aristocracy. They still hold the majority of industry in the city and if we were to pass this law that might be in jeopardy.” Celestia said with a respectful tone to her sister. She took a small sip of red wine as she awaited Lunas response.

“Yes, I know dear sister. But we would undoubtable be better off with the means of production in the hooves of some of our lowlier citizens. The law that states that no pony of low birth can own property in the starhoof-discrict is outdated and unfair. The aristocracy are a harsh bunch to deal with and I’d rather leave the responsibility of our economy into more ordinary hooves.”
“Luna we cann-…” The response was stopped dead in its tracks as both the Princesses put their wineglasses down on the table. “That was… Unnerving.” She said with a confused tone. It felt as if her very spirit had been pierced and from the looks of it, Luna felt the same. “I agree sister...” Luna said with an equally confused voice. “It felt as if…” Luna began gently. “…Something pierced our very souls.” Celestia finished and punctuated it with a soft frown.

Princess Celestia rose from the table and spoke to one of the numerous guards guarding the doors. "Collect the Magic-council. Have them meet us in the throne-room. Fifteen minutes, tops. Post haste!" The guard bowed. "At your command, Princess." He quickly marched out the door and started collecting the various archmages of the magical council.

Canterlot Castle - Throne room
Equestria

The council was arguing with gusto. It would appear that all of the archmages had felt the unique disturbance and was busy attacking each other with their intricate theorems. Princess Celestia knew that their elevated status and beautiful blue and purple traditional archmage clothing did little to diminish their ferocity in discussion.

"It was obviously an Achromatic outside-influenced overload! All the signs are there!" One of the archmages argued swiftly. This stallion in particular was a very skilled magical-diagnostics mage by the name of Dutiful Spark. The next mage to speak up was a master of traditional teleportation whose name was Eclipse Transport. "But that would not explain the mana drain! This is more in line with a magi-spacial displacement spell. How that is possible I couldn't even begin to speculate."

The Princess nodded softly as she formed her own theorem. "I will have to agree with Eclipse. This event does bare a striking similarity to a teleportation spell. But it seemed way to strong to affect all of us. I postulate that this was not powerful enough for every unicorn in Equestria to feel, but strong enough for the sensitive." The archmages quieted down. Some of the older, more gentle members nodded thoughtfully.

One of these older ones spoke up. His voice was hoarse and torn with age as was his appearance. "Princess, you know as much as I that such a spell to be felt on such a grand scale must have equaled to the enormity of the thing being displaced." His voice was filled with wisdom and knowledge. "Perhaps the most logical thing would be to make contact with the remaining archmages in the various cities on the borders of Equestria. They must surely have felt this event as well, and if they felt it stronger we at least in what direction the who or what landed."

Celestia nodded. "Indeed, that would be the most logical thing. So we have decided?" She asked loudly, looking at the various archmages. When none of these esteemed ponies spoke up, she called for a guard. "Contact Shining Armor. Inform him to send flyers to Vanhoover, Los Pegasus, Baltimare, Manehattan and Dodge City respectively. Have them make contact with the various archmages in these cities and ask for a status report. The mages will know what to do." She concluded. The guard swiftly saluted and moved out with gusto.

Northern Bohuslän - Svinesund
Sweden - January 17th
It was a cold but sunny January day. The snow lay all across Bohuslän and a chill undoubtedly ran down the backs of his escorting soldiers. These soldiers were the Svea Livgarde. They were the primary protectors of the royal family and it was unusual for them to ever leave Stockholm. However, circumstances were indeed unusual. Their stubby Swedish horses undoubtedly felt the chill as well. Their elite exterior pronounced their service as the most important soldiers in the Swedish Empire. One of the horsemen even held the Swedish standard.

However, their appearance was the last thing they thought of as they stood on what seemed to be the edge of the Skagerrak. Indeed, the visage they saw was as intriguing as it was horrifying. Stralsund used to be a simple sound that served as the political border between Sweden and Norway-Denmark. Now, it seemed to be the coast of a new foreign sea with water that seemed simply too bright to be the edge of the Atlantic even though it reasonably should be.

The king took a few cautionary steps towards the edge of the sound, and bent down in a sitting position. He seemed deep in thought, but the truth was that he simply couldn't believe what he was seeing. Norway, was indeed gone. Dissipated. Whisked away from reality. The truth seemed so far out as to belong in the bible itself. Was that the conclusion? Had god done this?

He continued to ponder the question as he felt the earth shake once more. It had happened sporadically throughout the day as they had gotten closer to Norway. It was not strange. The edge of Sweden and Norway consisted of large mountains. When these mountains were cut in half, they had begun to reorganize themselves into a new coast. It looked eerily similar to the paintings of the cliffs of Dover, if he were to trust the various reports throughout the empire. Rocks the size of castles were constantly falling into the new ocean, the very ground settling itself.

The last few days had been hectic. The rumors were spreading throughout the empire. Russia, the Germanies and of course Denmark itself was simply gone. As if they would never have existed. The strangest part were that every singe tunneland of Swedish territory had disappeared. Pommerania, Estonia, Latvia... They were all there. But everything else was gone. Thankfully, the new coast to the east of Finland had a much easier time to settle. There were simply no mountains in the eastern part of Finland.

The king was conflicted. All their enemies were indeed gone. The rooming Russian threat towards Nöteborg and Swedish baltics had suddenly and undoubtably disappeared. But the question that burned in the kings mind was that...

Are they gone or are we?

It seemed to be a simple answer. The oceans looked nothing like the old ones. The Atlantic was far to bright. The wild temperature change in some of the oceans also made no form of sense. The Baltic was the same, but it was quickly being changed due to it's new neighboring ocean to the west.

The king rose. He had much work to do. It felt as if he was under a total and supreme blockade. No trading. This meant shortages. However, due to the temperature differences perhaps it would be easier to start growing food. The north of Sweden and Finland still had the icy cold weather and it's temperatures did not change all too much. But the south of Sweden was already reporting much more sunlight per day. Strange. Just a few days ago, the days had been as dark as they had always been.

The king had seen enough. He had to get back to Stockholm and start organizing. If Sweden were to survive, she would have to start growing much, much more food. The shortages were already being felt. He quickly moved to his horse, and informed his Livsgarde that they were moving back to Stockholm. A few days of hard riding and he would be back. Much would have to change in a short span of time, and the king felt that the future was uncertain.

Author's Note

As you may have noticed, there are a few places and words that you may not recognize. Some of these you will simply have to google. Like I said, I'm trying to make this as historically accurate as possible. If you don't understand something, just google it. It's easier than me trying to explain every place or word.

Also! Swedish national day today! Länge leva Svea Rike!

Contact with foreign ships

Formerly Northern Sea (AC. Now Celestial Sea)
Swedish Naval Territory – January 29th
The reforms instituted by the king had been felt all over the branches of the Swedish Navy. Reorganization, recruitment and garrison. For the Swedish navy, it was a unknown new task to them. Exploration? That was something that Spain and England was used to. But the Swedish navy? They had not done much exploration since the viking ages.

However, the new reforms had put him in his unique position of captain. His name was Claes Sparre, a former shipman of the Dutch navy. He had returned to Sweden just about two years ago and he felt that this time, he would stay in his own country. Now, he was the captain of a large Third Rate ship of the line named HMS Bohus.

The Swedish navy had continually been patrolling around the new Island-nation of Sweden. It felt strange, having this much territory to patrol and explore, but as a man of Sweden he was following his duty to his king and fatherland. Currently, he was sailing in formation with two other ships, one Fourth Rate ship of the line called HMS Ösel, and one Fifth Rate Frigate called HMS Fredricus. He did not personally know the other captains, but as the largest ship in the formation he was sailing first.

The Bohus was armed with 74 guns, most notably eighteen 24-Pounder guns. Hopefully, if the worst came to fruition and he would meet hostile enemy ships, they would be able to annihilate them without much fuss. Nonetheless, it was a dangerous mission. Sailing in unknown waters such as these. He was also more than happy to house a small contingent of marines. They were not numerous by any accounts, but they would hopefully be enough if they were to experience a boarding.

He leaned on one of the railings as he looked out across the endless seas. His face contorted slightly as he spotted something in the distance. With a quick snap of his fingers and a shout to one of his servants, he had a spyglass in his hands. He looked out across the sea. It was undoubtedly a ship. Perhaps more disturbing, it was flying a flag that he did not know who it belonged to. As a Dutch sailor, it was nigh-impossible not to pick up on most of the European flags during the long voyages. The flag in question was black, with what looked like a crossbow in white in the middle. It was hard to tell from this distance, but the ship seemed to be a galley of some sort. That could only mean one thing. They were close to land. No captain with sanity would sail a galley out into open ocean.

"Ready the cannons. Prepare to fire, but not before I give my mark. Inform our sister-ships that an unknown vessel have been spotted and that we're forming a line of battle." He commanded a sailor as he continually looked towards the new possible-threat. "Aye, captain." He quickly shouted a few commands down the chain before running over and started communicating with his fellow ships via flag. Hopefully, someone would come up with a better way of communicating.

The wind was decreasing, which meant that the galley would have better mobility if it were to come to that. However, he had faith in his ships and in god. No one could beat that.

Two kilometers east of the HMS Bohus
Stormclaw was not having a good day. What he thought would be an easy day of raiding trade-convoys turned out to be an encounter with what was undoubtedly warships. Big ones, too from the looks of it. The gryphon frowned as he spied towards them. Ponies? Gryphons? He simply couldn't tell. They were too far out. With the wind winding down, they could not run far. Those sails seemed big, which meant they were fast. The oars may be useful if we got close, but we cannot hope to outrun them.

"Laddies! Arm the harpoons!" He frowned. If they recognized his flag, there would be a battle and he would lose. Badly. He knew as much as that. But Tartarus, he would fight til the end if he had to. "Helmsman, take us closer. Up alongside them." He ordered as he began looking over the gryphons on his ship. They were battle-hardened, that much was sure. Perhaps the occupants of the other ships were green. That meant they could take it by hand to hand combat. But, that seemed impossible seeing the elite-look of the ships. This seemed like a flagship if nothing else.

Sweat started to run across his forehead, which he wiped away quickly. It's time for that legendary gryphon courage. He had not been bested yet, and he had been in more dire situations than this. His eyes widened as the gap between the ships began to close. The three unknown vessels had made some sort of formation, looking like a line. Smart, he thought. That way they could simply go forwards and unload their broadside one by one.

He brought his spyglass closer to his eyes and looked over the possibly-largest ship he had ever seen. However, as he looked upon the deck he froze. Those were not ponies... They were... Minotaurs? No... They looked skinnier. The deckhands wore simple white clothing and brown pants, something that was to be expected of simple sailors. But the ones that wore more intricate clothing.... He saw the captain looking back at him. He had a long coat, blue in color with yellow details. Most likely made to resemble the flag they flew. Perhaps their national colors?

He lowered the spyglass and gulped. This is an entirely new species. He was sure of it. Now, Stormclaw wasn't the most educated of gryphons but he knew most of the races on the discovered part of Equus. He had raided more than half of them. These ones... He had never seen anything like it.

As much as he hated it, he had to try some form of diplomacy. As soon as he saw the broadside capabilities of the ships he knew he had no chance. He could not see the actual weapons in the broadside hatches, but they must've been some pretty large ballistas. Most likely filled with firemagic.

Stormclaw cleared his throat and waved over to one of his fellow deckhands. "Raise the white diplomatic flag. We cannot simply hope to beat these creatures or their ships." Stormclaw saw the disgust in the deckhands face, and he felt the same. Diplomacy... Not something for a pirate to be engaging in. But when times are dire, a pirate have to use his every weapon.

HMS Bohus
Claes could hardly believe his eyes. All over the galley that seemed to have been made hundreds of years ago were creatures straight out of mythology. He had sailed the Mediterranean with the dutch navy, and he had seen the paintings in Greece. Those same paintings and these creatures of blood and flesh were eerily similar. He tried to remember the name of them. "Griffionen..." He spoke quietly. True, that was the name in Dutch, but he knew the Swedish translation. "Grip." That was it. Gryphons. Thankfully, the crew were professional enough not to just stand and gawk. He could see his fellow seamen look to the mythological creatures from time to time, but overall they were surprisingly vigilant.

He turned to his deckhands and marines. "Men, load the cannons. Marines, ready your muskets. We cannot go into this unprepared. Remember, be vigi-..." He was interrupted by one of his deckhands. "Captain! They're raising the white flag. I assume that it means they want to meet." Claes nodded slightly.

This was perhaps the best and most logical ending to this. This would allow him much information, if they spoke the same language that is. "Raise the diplomatic flag. I wish to speak to them myself." He commanded. "Marines, ready up but do not attack. Remain watchful." As he spoke this, his own vessel and the galley had begun to line up alongside each other. Good, he thought. That meant that if hostilities would erupt, he could end the ship easily with his broadside cannons.

He was about to order a rope ladder to be cast to the galley below them when he heard several gusts of wind, as if a giant hawk had taken flight a few meters from him. That was pretty much exactly what happened. Three griffons had taken flight from the galley towards the deck of the Bohus. His men was visibly shaken, but he issued a quick command to calm them down. The three griphons only wore scarce clothing. One wore a hat, and another one a vest. Simplistic.. Even spartan, Claes thought.

The three gryphons landed on the deck, and looked around with watchful eyes. They had discipline, Claes had to give them that. Some of his own marines visibly clenched their loaded muskets. His own personal guard of marines inspected the foreign creatures, most likely looking for weak spots if hostilities would blossom up. The gryphons quickly identified Claes as the leader of the ship, most likely due to his exquisite uniform. They walked hesitantly towards him, stopping around ten feet in front of him.

Claes cursed under his breath. What language does he use? He cleared his throat and spoke in Dutch. "Good afternoon, captain." The gryphons seemed confused, and looked at eachother. Alright, not Dutch. He tried to remember his English. He had learnt it during his time in the Dutch navy. A useful tool to have when negotiating with British ships. "Do you understand me now?" The gryphons immediately opened their eyes wide. I'd take that as a yes. The foremost mythical creature took a step forward and began to speak...

"I assume you are the captain?" His voice was a bit squeaky, but it was without a doubt English. Awfully convenient, Claes concluded. Besides being squeaky, which Claes assumed to be because the creature in front of him was partly bird. Claes started to formulate an answer in his mind.

"Indeed I am, gryphon. And in turn I assume that you are the same?" Claes Responded. Stormclaw understood immediately that Equish was not his primary language. Stormclaw just nodded. He was not the most talkative gryphon, as he had always thought that actions spoke higher than words.

"Forgive me, I am quite shocked. I have never seen a creature such as yourself." Claes continued, seeing this as a perfect opportunity to gain some valuable information for the king. "Likewise..." Stormclaw responded.

So far so good, Claes concluded. "We have stories... Well, old myths talking about creatures such as yourself... It's interesting to see such a magnificent specimen such as yourself on my own." Stormclaw couldn't help but feel a bit flattered, but he knew that the flattering was simply a technique to lure him into a false sense of security. Stormclaw's two deckhands which he had brought was visibly sweating. Being around this many foreign creatures... It made them feel uneasy.

"I could not hope but recognize your ship as a galley... Does that mean there is land closeby?" Claes asked, deciding to push a bit harder. Stormclaw recognized this, but by not abiding to his question, things could quickly turn sour. He had a strong feeling that the only reason the captain was talking to him was to gain information. "Yes... You assume correctly." Stormclaw turned around and pointed out towards the sea. "That way. Not far at all. Perhaps a day's travel." Stormclaw hoped that he had bought himself some good will.

"Ah... Oh, how horrible of me. My name is Claes Sparre, and this is the HMS Bohus." Claes introduced himself. Stormclaw scrambled to remember the name. Such a strange name. "I'm Stormclaw, shipchieftain of the Nest." Stormclaw concluded, nodding along with his own sentence. "No prefix? Does that mean that you are indipentent? I cannot help but recognize the flag. It does not seem like a national flag, but more of a..." Claes halted. How had he not thought of this before? They were pirates! The flag just screamed pirates. He cursed his own ignorance and stupidity. Perhaps he could salvage this.

Stormclaw immediately recognized the look in Claes eyes. He figured it out. He had to act fast. The men he brought were strong fighters with a sword. If he were to pull a sword and try to escape to his galley, he could rally his men and try to fight by the sword rather than ballistas. Stormclaw decided that waiting was not in his best interest. As a pirate, he knew that speed was needed to overwhelm a larger foe. And so, with that in mind, he bounced back and pulled his sword, alongside his deckhands.

The reaction of the strange creatures were instant. In just a second, he had several metal sticks pointed towards him, deckhands had drawn swords as well as Claes himself. "Try me, Creature." Stormclaw said the now-hostile captain. Claes smirked back. "I will enjoy gutting you like a pig, Pirate." He spat the last word with disgust. Claes hated pirates.

The entire ship drew it's breath in silence. Things were about to get interesting...

By royal decree, from both sides.

Outside Stockholm - Mustering Grounds
Sweden – Febuary 9th, 1700 A.D.
The king pulled his coat tighter to his uniformed body as his eyes scanned across the new recruits. Ten thousand men. That was his decree, and he was not disappointed. The rumors of their transportation was now common knowledge in Sweden, and most likely the knowledge of the down-right otherworldly creatures that roamed this world. Sweden would have to bolster up if she was to survive in this uncertain and possibly hostile world.

While no contact had been made with any other nations, strange ships had been spotted sailing around Sweden. Thankfully, the Swedish navy was hard at work patrolling the seas, making sure to let not a single boat inside. Most boats turned tail and ran as soon as they saw the magnificent Swedish vessels, but not all. There had been incidents, in which otherworldly ships had been destroyed, not to mention the pirates that roamed the seas. Thankfully, all of these had been staying away but Karl was sure that the sudden shock of a new landmass would wear off and raiders would look for settlements on these fertile beaches. The king had decided to preemptively prohibit this by recruiting soldiers en masse. The Swedish generals were having a drastically busier time now than they were having but one month back.

The king frowned and looked out towards the Baltic sea. Several towns near the Norwegian border had been having it rough. Some were even abandoned. The tremors of the Scandinavian mountains crashing down had destroyed much. Thankfully, things were starting to look up. The temperature changes in southern Sweden had improved a lot. His top philosophers and farmers were expecting to start farming a full month before the scheduled month. This information was being spread throughout the empire, and hopefully would make Sweden somewhat resistant towards food-shortages. These shortages had been common for Sweden his entire life, but now seemed to be a thing that was about to change.

Interestingly enough, the philosophers of the land had been absolutely delighted at the prospect of entirely new flora. Small islands had been located around Sweden and these had entirely new critters and flowers on them. One man in particular named Christopher Polhem, a man who Karl held in high regard for his automation of Swedish mine just a few years ago, had discovered something truly remarkable. While investigating some of the local flora, he had apparently been attacked by one. He described it as a shock of some sort. Incredibly, he managed to connect this... shock... to a concept written in Thomas Browne's Pseudodoxia Epidemica around fifty years ago called Electricity. Polhem had been hard at work trying to apply it to some form of practical application, creating various urns containing these flowers which gave larger and larger shocks. Last time the king had spoken to him, Polhem expressed his wishes and indeed, his hope that this electrical power could positively influence the mines and in time even power them. The king did not know what to think, but he had his faith in Polhem.

Canterlot Castle – Royal Dining Room
Equestria. Febuary 11th, 1232 A.C
"Missing pirates... Tales of strange large ships patrolling the Celestial sea... New landmasses..." Celestia shook her head. She did not know what to believe anymore. "And perhaps the strangest of all, dear sister... Sailors speak of a new landmass.... Nay, a new continent." Celestia looked towards her sister, who had her head turned to the side in thought.

Luna began to speak, without looking at Celestia. "Indeed... It is most peculiar." She continued. "All our mages have concluded that the source of the... event was somewhere out in the Celestial sea." She sighed and looked at her sister dearest. "I worry, sister. My spine is on edge, as if Tirek had once more been released. That time, we at least knew what we were dealing with. Now, I do not know how to handle the situation except keeping up the patrols." Celestia nodded.

"Indeed, while it may be welcoming to see pirate-ships being sent to the bottom some of those are still Equestrian citizens and such it is our duty to figure out what happened to them. I have been in contact with the Gryphon Kingdom and they say that they also have had a dip in pirate activity."

Celestia shook her head. "We need recruits. If there is one thing we can do, it is prepare for the worst. Since we know roughly where this landmass is, we can at least muster our defenses on the eastern coast." Luna looked thoughtfully at her sister. "What about the navy? With our navy spread out between east and west and no way to transfer ships from between them, we need to construct additional ships on the eastern coast. If this landmass isn't facing the same problem as us which most cartographers agree on that they don't, they can commit their entire navy to the eastern coasts while we can only commit half." Luna spoke with a confident tone. Celestia nodded along her as she thought of the prospect. "I have to agree," Celestia continued. "...but we have to manage our finances carefully. Recruitment and shipbuilding on the scale that we're about to undertake will hit hard on the Equestrian treasury. We will need to cut spending to other sectors."

While the sisters sat far into the night planning their bold and radical new army development program and reforms, the sons of Sweden prepare to venture out into the world...

Stockholm - Northern Blasieholmen
Sweden – Febuary 10th, 1700 A.D.

"Come on! Move it!" A lone Swedish offices screamed at the hardened recruits below him. These soldiers in question were a relatively new formed brigades. These were modeled after the British Royal Marines and were made to invade beaches from ships. While such a thing had been unnecessary for Sweden a few years ago, the situation was vastly different now. As they loaded, colonial garrisons and statesmen were trained in the art of colonization. It was easy for anyone who had their ears open what the Swedish king intended to do in this new world.

Speaking of the dear King, he was perched high atop a nearby wooden structure and took great pleasure in seeing the uniformed men march unto the boats and ships that dotted around the Royal Shipyard. The sound of men working on new Ships were heard in the distance and it bled into the marching of the troops.

It had been fortunate that the world had decided that this strange event were to happen at the moment it did. Troops being trained for the unavoidable war with Russia had been going on for over a year and these troops were now very much needed, though not for the purpose originally intended.

The king was feeling hopeful. Sweden had been much too late to join the colonial race back in Europe with Spain and England carving up the world to their desire... But this was one more thing that had radically changed due to their displacement. There was a world around them, seemingly primitive in comparison! New lands to conquer! New resources to exploit! It was truly a great time to be King. Charles was determined to go down in history as the king who conquered the world. He who created a Kingdom which the sun always shone upon.

With this thought in mind, he smirked to himself and walked away from the Royal Shipyard...

On the water with fire and sword

The atmosphere on the ship was tense, as if you could cut it with a knife. Each side waiting for the other one to make their move. The time for talking was over, and now the relations would be dictated by the clashing of swords.

Claes smirked. The gryphons treated this fight as if it were a regular sword fight. The conclusion that they'd never seen a firearm was quickly settled in Claes mind, as they did nothing to protect themself towards them other than sneak a glance at them every once in a while.

His eyes finds the one of the marines onboard, pointing his musket towards the gryphons. A slight nod is all he did to signal the start of the attack. The gryphons hadn't even speculated on the possibility. Suddenly, the marine screamed at the top of his lungs. "AVFYRA!" The sound of many hammers striking their flint and suddenly discharging. The balls from the muskets tore asunder several of the gryphons immediately, the captains head exploding in a showery display of gore. Claes took this moment to initiate the attack, shouting in Swedish. "Attackera!"

The captain jumped into the fray, his sword quickly cutting down one of the gryphons. It seems that the muskets had quickly torn down the gryphon numbers, leaving only a few alive and scared. Claes then backed off and screamed once more. "AVFYRA KANONER!"

The HMS Bohus rocked as it's starboard cannons rapidly fired their deadly payload. Cannons rolled back and the workers were already on their way to reload the empty guns once more. Meanwhile, the steel balls of the cannons punched through the thin hull of the galley. It's front mast splintered apart and it fell overboard. Water started rushing into the holes formed at the bottom of the hull.

Claes looked back to the battle, seeing that only a single gryphon still stood standing. His eyes were tiredly scanning across the plentiful Swedish soldiers and sailors surrounding him. He made a few pathetic attempts at swiping his sword at them. His eyes were constantly scanning for openings, hoping to fly away. His eyes suddenly went wide as a sabre was thrusted into his side. The gryphons eyes looked at the sailor who had done the act, almost as if he couldn't believe it. Claes saw the sailor rip the sword out of the creature as it crumbled to the floor, bleeding on the deck. The corpse twitched for a few more moments, before it truly became a corpse.

Seeing the last battle done, he shouted to his crewmen. "Throw them overboard. No need to bloody our deck, gentlemen!" Claes looked over to the gryphon galley, slowly sinking into the water. Marines on the side of the Bohus were taking potshots at the feeling gryphons as they attempted to run from their sinking ships. Of course, hitting a bird with a musket from this distance was practically impossible, but nevertheless he saw one or two gryphons go down as the bullets practically ripped off their wings.

The captain remained at the starboard railing for a while longer til the main deck of the galley had gone beneath the waves, before nodding and wandering up to the poop deck. A few seagulls flying overhead gave the captain the direction to take, and he tapped the helmsmans shoulder, pointing towards the distance. "That way, my good man." The sailor nodded and Claes sank down unto a chair. Seems like it won't be long til they reach shore. Fighting like this would become a day to day business as they did, this he was sure of. "And do try to not hit the sinking ship, please. I'd rather not tell the King that I've lost one of our main ships to idiocy of the helmsman." His eyes pierced the said helmsman, who nodded once more, albeit more nervously.

The men climbed unto the masts and started to release the seals of the sails as the men on the deck loosened and fastened rope. The piloting of a ship was as advanced as one could get in the military, especially on a large ship such as the HMS Bohus. It made Claes yearn back to the days of sailing small merchant ships for the Dutch navy. He had to however admit that this brave new world was interesting. Europe was interesting enough, with berber-pirates and enemy vessels hiding behind every wave. This, however... This world of mythical and fantastic creatures was quite the head-turner.

Wrangel Palace - Throne Room
Sweden – Febuary 11th, 1700 A.D.

"...and with that, we suspect that this list of people would be best suited for Governor in any future colonies we happen to proclaim." The well-dressed nobleman and council member continued. His lips pursed gently as he looked to the aforementioned list. "I will admit that the list is rather short, but we are training new statesmen as we speak."

The king could hardly blame the overworked noblemen and council member for the short list. This was nigh-uncharted territory for Sweden. The last colony that Sweden herself had owned was Carolusborg in the African Gold Coast and that was lost over fifty years ago. With it, most colonial ambitions Sweden had claimed were dead in the water. With the thirty years war in recent memory at that point and the misery widespread, it was not strange that the colonialists had decided to take different lines of work or moved to more colonialist nations such as England, France or Spain.

Because of this lack of experience and viable infrastructure to support such efforts, Sweden had to work quickly to train new governors and colonial offices to take advantage of the situation that they now found themselves in. In a way, it was maddening. Most of the knowledge on the subject was from a handful of English and French tomes that had found their way into the libraries of Uppsala- or Lund Universities.

Speaking of the Universities, they had their hands very full with the influx of new knowledge. Several islands had been claimed around Sweden. Most of them had been small, but a few had been decently sized for naval bases in the future. The various flora and fauna on these islands had kept the universities of Sweden working overtime. It was a monumental task to try and catalog all of it and it had not been done before. Not even in Europe had the various flora and fauna been cataloged.

The king finally nodded to the nobleman and dismissed him, his mind now turning unto the strategic situation. Pirates had been spotted and sunk around the area which Sweden now found itself in. He had to give it to the Royal Swedish Navy, they had taken upon a monumental task for which they were largely under-equipped for and turned the seas around Sweden somewhat safe. Reports had come in and spoken of fantastical creatures. Unicorns, Pegasi and Gryphons. Stranger still, they apparently spoke an odd dialect of English... or at least something that resembled English.

What these encounters had given the king was confirmation of what they suspected. This world was rather technologically backwards. Galleys that would've fit right in with the old Roman Empire. Archaic, medieval-like swords and armor. No gunpowder to speak of. This made the Swedish troops and ships vastly superior to them... But there was one rather startling discovery, something the priests and bishops all over Sweden gape with horror.

Magic. True, honest to God magic. While the King had not yet heard much of it, it was obvious that it penetrated the society of the foreigners. One of the ships had reported that the pirates had similar cannon-hatches to a ship-of-the-line, but with large archaic ballistae with a twist. They had some form of curse on them, which made them explode in flames when they hit the hull of the other ship. Thankfully, they most likely weren't intended to be used against large, oak ships-of-the-line and their effect was minimal compared to the cannons the Swedish ships used but it was unpleasant to think about.

The priests had of course lost their mind. Even now, the various religious leaders of Sweden was harshly debating the theology behind this new discovery and what form of word to assign to it. Heretic, perhaps. Heathenism? Devil worship? The king did not care to speculate. It had however given him more than a pause for thought. What else where these creatures capable of? If they could conjure up fire by inscribing runes on the tip of arrows, what more dangerous hexes could they have in their arsenal?

The King was of course a god-fearing man, much as anyone should be. This gave him even more conviction of how this new world would test their beliefs. But Sweden would triumph, as it had for centuries. This, he was sure of. And if the priests and zealots of the nations could band together against such a foe, all the better.

Boots on new land

Somewhere near the edge of the Badlands
Equestria – Febuary 24th, 1700 A.D.

The water gently lapped against the sand-covered beach. The salt causing the water to fizz as it retreated after each wave broke the banks. Behind the desert, a grassland expanded in every direction with small clusters of trees every so often. A thicker forest could be seen in the distance. Beyond the forest to the west, reddish-grey mountains tipped with snow stood as a natural wall.

The ships HMS Falken and the HMS Stralsund had probed this landing site for days, going so far as to draw a crude map of the area.

Said ships were now overseeing the landing site. Located north and south of a small merchant-ship fleet, which was quickly moving up towards the banks. On board these commandeered merchant ships were hundreds of Swedes, stocked with food, building equipment as well as a detachment of the newly created Royal Swedish Marines. These troops were almost entirely copied from the British marines, who fought the Netherlands in 1664. They were nonetheless trained in warfare at sea and landing upon foreign land. Truth be told, the word trained was perhaps too much credit. A crash course would be a more adequate word.

The merchant ships had been modified as well. They now had a gate at the front and their bottoms had been made shallower. The thought behind these ships were that they could be deliberately run aground and the gates could be open with soldiers pouring out. This was the grand vision, at least. The landing site that they had selected seemed completely free of any native activity, which is why it had been selected in the first place.

The first of the ships got close to the banks, getting as close as it possibly could. Soon, a thunk could be heard as the ship ran aground. It was still around 20 meters til the edge of the beach, but this didn't deter them. If the ships ran aground, a man could walk there.

The large gates at the front were released, splashing down into the water. A small group of soldiers jumped out into the water, soaking their "water resistant" boots. They began to wade towards the beach, taking care to not douse their weapons in water. Wet powder was useless and therefore the soldiers would be left only with their rapiers if that were to happen.

It didn't take long for more soldiers to join them as they made their way to the beach. Their eyes scanned from side to side. While they weren't very good marines, they without a doubt were good soldiers. The king had personally made sure that only veterans were selected for marine training. Some of these men had fought in the Nine Years' War.

The first group of marines took a few cautious steps unto the beach. They shook their boots, water splashing out of them. Some of them cursed, but most remained silent.

An officer stepped forward, being distinguishable from the soldiers by his fancier boots and sword. He waved towards his soldiers while scanning the horizon and the small clusters of trees. "Alright. Fan out. Try to keep low for the time being." The men crouched and walked out across the grass field, some choosing to secure the tree-clusters. As they gazed out along said fields, they spotted nothing but untamed wilderness. A small river ran down from the thicker forests in the distance.

Everything was quiet, save for the crunching of the soldiers boots and a few birds. No smoke was seen on the horizon. The wind was practically at a standstill, despite being right next to the ocean.

The officer had finally seen enough, an shouted to his troops. "Get back here. This place is empty." He turned to the merchant ships, seeing the civilians waiting in at the gates of the ships. He held up his hand and waved them over. They began to pick up thick bags and rucksacks of tools and materials. Some of the stronger men carried barrels of food, alcohol and water. They cautiously jumped down into the water, wading towards the banks.

With the site secured, he began giving out orders to his soldiers. "Alright, I need a tower over there. I want the tents to go up around there with a campfire in the middle. Get to it." The soldiers sprung into action, some running back to the civilians and helped them offload. Others began to chop down trees with their personal axes.

The officer had been worried that there wouldn't be enough trees, however that seemed moot. The trees in the area could easily support a small village as a start. The forest in the distance could be harvested in the future.

Forests around the landing site
Equestria – Febuary 27th, 1700 A.D.
Curious eyes peered out across the grasslands.

There had been commotion recently. A trade ship had been making its way down towards Saddle Arabia when it had spotted strange ships close to the coast, a few hundred miles south of Baltimare. The merchantpony wasn't stupid. He had heard the rumors of strange ships flying even stranger colors sailing the Equestrian Sea, sinking pirates. The taverns of Baltimare were ripe with rumors and legends, spoken by old seaponies.

Everypony had their own idea of what these strange creatures were, however the authorities hadn't commented on the issue. Most traders didn't pay them any heed as well, since these creatures hadn't outright attacked any traders of Royal Equestrian ships. In fact, most traders commended them in their way of dispatching the pirates who made their trade difficult.

This new development had however made heads turn. The strange creatures landing near the south tip of Haysend Swamps? This made the authorities in both Baltimare and Canterlot nervous. This was Equestrian land. On paper, at least. No pony lived anywhere close to the supposed landing site. With this in mind, the mayor of Baltimare had sent three pegasus scouts from the Baltimare Division to keep tabs on the creatures.

And so, these three lonely scouts found themselves in what they perceived as the middle of nowhere, laying on top of clouds and looking down as strange creatures standing upright were building a small village on the coast of de jure Equestrian territory.

"What do you think, Sky Wing?" The leader and older-looking one of them asked another, looking his way. The pegasus looked back. "I don't know... They do not look like they're building just a campsite. They seem to want to stay for quite a bit longer than that." He said and looked down upon the newly erected building in the middle, bearing a metal cross at the peak of it's roof.

"Wouldn't... Wouldn't that mean they're violating Equestrian sovereignty?" The third pegasus finally spoke up. The older one cast a glance against him, before returning it to the settlement below.

He finally nods, after a few moments. "In theory, yeah... But I do not expect these creatures to know that. Keeping in mind that no pony has ever seen anything like them, I'm quite sure that they don't." He shrugged and looked to the pegasus once more. "Who can blame them for not realizing it belongs to somepony? This place is literally uninhabited for miles upon miles. There is nothing saying that this even is Equestrian territory except being included on a map somewhere in Canterlot." The pegasus nodded in agreement.

"So, what do we tell the mayor?" Sky Wing asked, looking to his leader. Said older pony pondered in silence for a few moments, before looking back. "I think we should advice them to send a diplomatic team. If this is an honest mistake, then it shouldn't be too hard to rectify."

With that, the three pegasus pushed the cloud slowly towards the forest where they could make their escape without being detected. This information had to be given to the authorities as soon as possible.