Fort of Cervo

The early morning light illuminated Fort Cervo, perched on the rugged coastline of Sardinia. The fort, with its high stone walls and narrow watchtowers, bustled with activity as the rebels prepared for the inevitable battle. Soldiers marched in organized lines across the courtyard, and the clang of hammers echoed as blacksmiths worked tirelessly to forge weapons. Supply wagons rolled through the gates, carrying food, powder, and shot for the growing rebel force.

At the gate, Paolo, the rebel spy, arrived after a grueling two-day journey. His cloak was caked with dirt, his face pale with exhaustion. As he approached the guards, they stepped forward, muskets in hand.

"Identify yourself," one of the guards demanded, his tone sharp.

Paolo raised his hands, his voice hoarse from days of travel. "It's Paolo. I've returned from Loretto with urgent news for Commander Vittorio."

The guards studied him for a moment before recognizing his face. They nodded and gestured him inside. "Follow us. The commander will want to hear this immediately."

Paolo followed the guards through the courtyard. Around him, soldiers were sparring with wooden rifles, their movements stiff but improving under the guidance of experienced trainers. Large crates of ammunition were being unloaded by quartermasters, while others reinforced the fort's walls with thick planks of wood and sheets of iron. The atmosphere was tense, with every person focused on their task.

The guards led Paolo into the fort's command room, a plain stone chamber dominated by a large wooden table covered in maps and notes. Around it stood several rebel leaders, their faces lined with fatigue and worry. At the head of the table was Commander Vittorio Salvi, a tall, broad-shouldered man with gray-streaked hair and a weathered face. His eyes narrowed as he noticed Paolo enter.

"You're back," Vittorio said. "What did you find in Loretto?"

Paolo stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Commander, the Elysean army is preparing for an assault, and they've developed a weapon that could turn the tide of this war."

Vittorio raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting for Paolo to continue. The other officers leaned in, their expressions grim.

"They've created an explosive," Paolo explained, his voice urgent. "I saw it with my own eyes during a demonstration. They used it to destroy a massive wooden gate reinforced with iron. The explosion obliterated it completely. If they bring this weapon to Fort Cervo, our gates won't hold."

The room fell silent. Finally, Vittorio spoke. "What exactly are we dealing with? How is it used?"

"It's simple," Paolo replied. "They place a container filled with the explosive at the base of the target and light a fuse. The explosion is powerful enough to tear through anything in its path. It's not like anything we've faced before."

Vittorio's jaw tightened. He turned to one of his officers, a young man named Rinaldo. "How are the gates holding up?"

Rinaldo shook his head. "They're solid, but if what Paolo says is true, they won't withstand a blast like that."

"Then reinforce them," Vittorio ordered. "Add more iron plating and strengthen the hinges. Use stone if you have to. I don't care how it's done—just make sure those gates hold."

Rinaldo nodded and left the room to oversee the work. Vittorio turned back to Paolo. "What else did you see?"

"Their numbers," Paolo continued. "They've mobilized about 500 men. Their soldiers are disciplined, well-trained, and equipped with standard-issue muskets."

One of the officers, Antonio, frowned. "We only have a month to prepare. Do we have enough supplies to hold out?"

"Our supplies are adequate for now," Vittorio replied. "But we'll need to ration carefully. Antonio, make sure every wagon that comes in is accounted for. We can't afford to waste anything."

"Yes, Commander," Antonio said, already making notes.

Another officer, Matteo, who oversaw the artillery, spoke up. "What about the cannons? If they bring those explosives, we'll need to stop them before they reach the gates."

"We have twelve cannons positioned along the walls," Matteo said. "But ammunition is limited. If we're forced into a prolonged siege, we'll run out."

"That we can't do. If we fail here, or if this fort fall to the enemy hands, there won't be anyplace left for us to retreat to," Vittorio finished Matteo's thought, his tone grim. "Fort Cervo is not just our stronghold; it's our symbol of resistance. If it falls, so does the morale of every rebel still fighting."

The room fell into a heavy silence as the officers absorbed the weight of his words. Vittorio turned to Paolo again. "Did you hear anything about their timeline? When are they planning to attack?"

Paolo hesitated, his brow furrowing. "I couldn't gather that information, Commander. I only know they are preparing diligently, and their morale is high. With their resources, I would estimate they could be ready to move in a few weeks."

Vittorio grunted, clearly dissatisfied. "What are the possible approaches that they could make?"

"Well, since we are on the other island, the only way for them to get us is through seaborne invasion. They will probably use their ships of the line or frigates to transport their troops and supplies. Once they establish a foothold near the coast, they could march directly toward Fort Cervo," Paolo explained. "The coastline around the fort is rugged, but there are a few landing spots that are accessible for a force of their size. If they're well-coordinated, they could land undetected and move quickly."

Vittorio nodded, his expression hardening as he digested the information. "Then we need to anticipate their movements and make their landing as costly as possible. Matteo, can we position some of our cannons to cover the likely landing points?"

Matteo nodded. "Yes, Commander. We can move four of the twelve cannons closer to the shoreline. It'll leave us lighter on artillery at the fort itself, but it should give us a chance to disrupt their landing."

"Do it," Vittorio said decisively. "If we can slow them down or scatter their forces before they reach the fort, it'll buy us precious time."

Turning to Rinaldo, Vittorio continued, "I want a small detachment sent to scout the coastline. They'll need to monitor those landing points and alert us the moment they see any movement. Choose men you trust, and make sure they know the risks."

"Understood, Commander," Rinaldo said, leaving the room to carry out the orders.