Records: the Plantagenet Gates

## **A Month After the Noble Plantagenet Grants**

The baronies of Calais and Dover had been out of the hands of the King of England and in the hands of the independent Noble House of Plantagenet for about a month. The flag of France now flew over Calais, with the Noble Plantagenet just beneath, but it was still predominantly English residents. Most critically, the English were there without a wartime footing.

For the French locals, it was starting a period of healing. It was a recognition of the evils and perils of war, those that weren't fully appreciated until one was burned out of house and home.

Back in England, the flip side of the coin was that there was an oral minority now bitterly disappointed that England wasn't simply plundering France for all it was worth. Maybe 30% of the countryside, and it would've been much higher if not for the speed and method France was won. Or if they were more directly vested in French exports or imports. Or if they knew how to read.

But much of that came from old wounds.

## **The Mysterious Construction**

The city walls and primary keep of Calais had been repaired, mostly in the immediate aftermath of the battle with the Bayonne regiment encamped just outside and providing security.

On the ramparts and parapets, there were metal additions – plates of engraved steel that would repel cannonfire. Not that anyone could imagine being attacked again, not after the counterattack of *the Magus*, but it was better safe than sorry.

Parts of the towers had been redesigned to accomodate defensive artillery. Ranging fire had been made, zeroing in the accuracy of the cannons – and the effect was stunning. Perhaps a little daunting, but it definitely made a statement.

As much as the cannons and enhanced construction were a topic for people passing through, there was one thing that confused the heck out of most. Further out, beyond the rebuilt docks, was one long, wide stone-based pier that essentially made this structure a peninsula. Jutting out at the end was an artificial island of sorts, and that's where it got strange.

It wasn't a second inner keep, it it was designed more as an inner one-sided, ultra-heavy duty barbican. The stone pier had a secondary guard towers, a break, and a drawbridge (hence chatter of "the island").

Like a door to nowhere, this strange barbican finally revealed to its true purpose: *it was a locked portal, permanently connected to a matching portal in Dover*.

### **Traffic Flow**

The gate allowed road traffic to pass through, so travelers and cartage could ride to Calais. Passing through the gate, they rolled instantly into Dover and could keep riding beyond to England.

A similar gate was in Dover, and the faced each other, though that was not a technical necessity.

With minor differences in weather from one side of the channel to the other there was always a breeze through the gate, one direction or another.

### **The Inaugural Travelers**

The first to cross was no less than the Regiment of St. George, returning to England. This was *not* their first time through a gate of this kind, as it was starting to get around that the English Royal Navy's logistics ships had their own gates. The Regiment had gone directly from [a spot in England], through the boat-borne gate, and disembarked from a 30-second boat ride by rolling off in Brest.

This was an absolute miracle of magic, with most ready to follow right through, but there were many that were ostensibly nervous. Having St. George do it first was encouraging, but this kind of magic would take time.

### **The Future of Calais Traffic**

Individual foot traffic was free to cross the gate. It was a small fee for single horses and riders.

The toll for cartage and merchant traffic was significant. Big enough that maritime trade wasn't going to go obsolete overnight, but it was definitely on notice.