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Setting I

“What do you mean, what war? Where the hell have you been this last decade, boy?” Firus put the bottle down momentarily. The mechanic-turned-airship pilot peered at me closely, as if I was a nutcase.
“Ah, oh well. Goes back a long way, back to when Garlaf and Likem banded together and formed Lanthar. The country is vast, boy. I could take the fastest airship money can buy and it would still take me a full cycle, maybe two, to get from one end to the other.”
I nodded eagerly, anything to keep him on the narrative and off the drink.
“Well, what happened was this. Tensions running high, threats being thrown around. Before you know it, they lay claim on our coal mines and the war gets started.”
His eyes glazed up a bit.
“First few battles, they slaughtered us. Looked like hell, flaming wrecks falling out of the sky. Our Airship Corps were fighting with slow old barges from the last century – but they sure learned their lesson,” he laughed bitterly. “Too late for half the Corps.”

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