Aranethon.
Lorica-class Ironclad
The 1860’s were a boom time of naval construction. The first ironclad battleships had amply demonstrated that the reign of the old wooden ship of the line was at an end. Such ships were extremely vulnerable to the new technology of high explosive shells, giving ships that were actually armoured to withstand such weapons a huge advantage. As a result, the world’s naval powers were keen to dispose of their now useless fleets, replacing them with ironclads as fast as they could.
Nowhere was this boom of shipbuilding greater than the Old Perceptan Empire. Ever since the Avalonian Continental and Western Holy Wars of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, where the navies of its rivals had been practically annihilated, Perceptum had maintained a massive margin of global naval supremacy for half a century by the virtue of being able to supplement its massive number of warships faster than its rivals could build new navies. But with the advent of the ironclad, this vast Armada of wooden sailing ships had been rendered obsolete at a stroke. A similar thing was happening in the navies of its geopolitical enemies, who were capitalizing on the opportunity to finally catch up. Having built its hegemony through the use of its navy, and none to eager to lose the control of the sea which its economy depended upon, the Imperial Government authorized one of the biggest construction programmes in history to replace its fleet with modern ironclad warships. Scores of the grand old wooden ships were sold and scrapped, with only the most modern preserved for conversion that turned them into comparatively ugly hunks of steel. Moreover, Imperial shipyards worked overtime to build entirely new ships with iron framed hulls; ships like the mighty Forza. The great majority of these ships were armed in the traditional broadside manner, before this type was ultimately superseded by ships with central battery and turret armaments.
When laid down in 1866, the Lorica and her class were intended to be the last, and grandest, of the Imperial Navy’s broadside battleships. In practice, conversion works on older ships and the construction of other broadsiders continued alongside their building until 1870, so it’s unclear which ship was THE last of the old way of fighting, but the Loricas were the last class of them to be ordered. For the Marina Imperiale, she was the embodiment of the sendoff, with some of the older men in the officer corps shedding tears over the passing of an age. They were the only class of broadside ironclad to possess more than a single gundeck, and although only the lower of the two benefitted from the thickest armour (8in of wrought iron backed by 20in of teak) their height allowed them to ship no less than fifty-six guns. As grand as this may seem, the arrangement caused several problems. The shear weight of all those guns threatened stability, and with so many weapons on two decks, it would be impossible to equip each gun with its own armoured ammunition hoist. This forced the guncrews to share hoists and get creative with how they handled the shot and powder... which would obviously prove hazardous in battle. The magazines were correspondingly huge, and although protected by relatively thick armour for a ship of the type, it was insufficient against the increasingly large guns mounted by central battery and turret ironclads. The only real strength they had was the mobility that resulted from their length to width ratio, but maneuvering such top-heavy iron sailing ships proved notoriously hazardous.
As can be expected, the Eight Years War was not kind to them. The ships performed admirably despite their age, their massive batteries of updated guns proving useful in calm seas and coastal battles where they proved their worth in guarding the Empire’s ports from attack. And unlike most other broadsiders, their entire hull was armoured with wrought iron ranging between four and eight inches, which allowed them to tank hits from smaller guns. Their relative agility even allowed them to dodge torpedoes while other, less nimble ships foundered. But whenever they were dragged too far out to sea, predictable problems arose. Their instability, worsened by the even heavier new rifled gun battery, caused more than one of them to sink in bad weather, in particularly fast turns or due to uncontrolled flooding in battle. With such a tendency to roll so heavily, the lower gun deck (which housed all the 8in guns, as opposed to the 4 and 6in rifles on the upper deck) would be subject to flooding should the hatches be opened in rough seas. Worse yet was the damage inflicted by the more modern ships the Empire was facing; the big-gun ships favoured by the Order of Achatius and her Allies found no problem with overmatching the Lorica’s armour, even from range. Once penetrated, the ships citadel and vulnerable ammunition stores were wide open to destruction.
Several of them did, however, survive the War. Wartime construction eventually caught up, allowing the the Loricas to be replaced on the front line by newer, tougher ships that moved the old broadsiders to relatively safe port defense and reserve posts. After the war, the Perceptan navy diligently reorganized itself and, strapped for cash, decided to sell many of its obsolescent ships off to the highest foreign bidders. At least one Lorica found its way into the Royal Pyu Navy, while another became flagship to a short-lived but famous pirate of the Chornslad Alliance. After superseding their value as combatants, they would serve for the rest of their days as depot ships, coal hulks and training vessels... an ignominious end to the era of the sailing battleship.
Lorica-class Ironclad
The 1860’s were a boom time of naval construction. The first ironclad battleships had amply demonstrated that the reign of the old wooden ship of the line was at an end. Such ships were extremely vulnerable to the new technology of high explosive shells, giving ships that were actually armoured to withstand such weapons a huge advantage. As a result, the world’s naval powers were keen to dispose of their now useless fleets, replacing them with ironclads as fast as they could.
Nowhere was this boom of shipbuilding greater than the Old Perceptan Empire. Ever since the Avalonian Continental and Western Holy Wars of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, where the navies of its rivals had been practically annihilated, Perceptum had maintained a massive margin of global naval supremacy for half a century by the virtue of being able to supplement its massive number of warships faster than its rivals could build new navies. But with the advent of the ironclad, this vast Armada of wooden sailing ships had been rendered obsolete at a stroke. A similar thing was happening in the navies of its geopolitical enemies, who were capitalizing on the opportunity to finally catch up. Having built its hegemony through the use of its navy, and none to eager to lose the control of the sea which its economy depended upon, the Imperial Government authorized one of the biggest construction programmes in history to replace its fleet with modern ironclad warships. Scores of the grand old wooden ships were sold and scrapped, with only the most modern preserved for conversion that turned them into comparatively ugly hunks of steel. Moreover, Imperial shipyards worked overtime to build entirely new ships with iron framed hulls; ships like the mighty Forza. The great majority of these ships were armed in the traditional broadside manner, before this type was ultimately superseded by ships with central battery and turret armaments.
When laid down in 1866, the Lorica and her class were intended to be the last, and grandest, of the Imperial Navy’s broadside battleships. In practice, conversion works on older ships and the construction of other broadsiders continued alongside their building until 1870, so it’s unclear which ship was THE last of the old way of fighting, but the Loricas were the last class of them to be ordered. For the Marina Imperiale, she was the embodiment of the sendoff, with some of the older men in the officer corps shedding tears over the passing of an age. They were the only class of broadside ironclad to possess more than a single gundeck, and although only the lower of the two benefitted from the thickest armour (8in of wrought iron backed by 20in of teak) their height allowed them to ship no less than fifty-six guns. As grand as this may seem, the arrangement caused several problems. The shear weight of all those guns threatened stability, and with so many weapons on two decks, it would be impossible to equip each gun with its own armoured ammunition hoist. This forced the guncrews to share hoists and get creative with how they handled the shot and powder... which would obviously prove hazardous in battle. The magazines were correspondingly huge, and although protected by relatively thick armour for a ship of the type, it was insufficient against the increasingly large guns mounted by central battery and turret ironclads. The only real strength they had was the mobility that resulted from their length to width ratio, but maneuvering such top-heavy iron sailing ships proved notoriously hazardous.
As can be expected, the Eight Years War was not kind to them. The ships performed admirably despite their age, their massive batteries of updated guns proving useful in calm seas and coastal battles where they proved their worth in guarding the Empire’s ports from attack. And unlike most other broadsiders, their entire hull was armoured with wrought iron ranging between four and eight inches, which allowed them to tank hits from smaller guns. Their relative agility even allowed them to dodge torpedoes while other, less nimble ships foundered. But whenever they were dragged too far out to sea, predictable problems arose. Their instability, worsened by the even heavier new rifled gun battery, caused more than one of them to sink in bad weather, in particularly fast turns or due to uncontrolled flooding in battle. With such a tendency to roll so heavily, the lower gun deck (which housed all the 8in guns, as opposed to the 4 and 6in rifles on the upper deck) would be subject to flooding should the hatches be opened in rough seas. Worse yet was the damage inflicted by the more modern ships the Empire was facing; the big-gun ships favoured by the Order of Achatius and her Allies found no problem with overmatching the Lorica’s armour, even from range. Once penetrated, the ships citadel and vulnerable ammunition stores were wide open to destruction.
Several of them did, however, survive the War. Wartime construction eventually caught up, allowing the the Loricas to be replaced on the front line by newer, tougher ships that moved the old broadsiders to relatively safe port defense and reserve posts. After the war, the Perceptan navy diligently reorganized itself and, strapped for cash, decided to sell many of its obsolescent ships off to the highest foreign bidders. At least one Lorica found its way into the Royal Pyu Navy, while another became flagship to a short-lived but famous pirate of the Chornslad Alliance. After superseding their value as combatants, they would serve for the rest of their days as depot ships, coal hulks and training vessels... an ignominious end to the era of the sailing battleship.