I awoke about an hour before Aurora, but I didn’t want to disturb her, so I decided to just lay there and think about some of what I had learned. Eventually, I settled upon contemplating the nature of adamantine. Just what was it? Was it some new, never before discovered element? Could it be an alloy of some kind? Or perhaps it was simply a stable isotope of an already known element?
And if it was that last one, which element? I mean, I had some suspicions. Rhenium or tungsten fit the bill nicely enough, though the difference in the number of neutrons would have to drastically and fundamentally affect certain properties in order to make those fit. On the other hand, it being an alloy of tungsten, rhenium and some other things would certainly account for the properties of the material. And if it required specific conditions to manufacture, like high pressure combined with low gravity, then it would be exceedingly rare on inhabitable planets.
And if either of those meant that it could only be artificially manufactured, then that would explain why Titania couldn’t get any for her goddaughter. She likely didn’t have access to the tech needed.
Also, who the hell was this “Fairy Blacksmith” and why did she have not just a fairy godmother but a godmother that was queen of the fairies? And why was it that somehow, somewhere deep inside, I felt like I already knew the answer?
“Don’t ask me,” Fleur responded to my unasked question. “I just live here. Though, you’re right, it’s almost like we read about her somewhere once before and just can’t recall where. We’ve read a lot of books, you freaking nerd.”
“Speaking of reading about someone somewhere before, why is it that you look like a dead Frenchwoman?”
“Because that’s what form your subconscious chose when you put on that cursed belt?”
That was probably true. Fleur did seem to be a reflection of the schism in my mind. “Okay, but how did I know what she looked like?”
“You probably saw a picture of her somewhere. If not in the scrapbooks, then perhaps she was in Badass of the Week or something?” I guess it was possible, if not exactly probable. And it’s not like I could look it up.
I put it out of my mind and began planning out my day. I had a busy day before me. I had to make bombs, guns and all sorts of other tools before we reached Mokmurian’s fortress. I could really use some assistants, but I guess I would have to settle for Lit’s “Over My Head” on repeat while I worked.
Aurora finally woke up, stretching her wings and rubbing her eyes. “Okay, time for you to leave so I can get dressed,” she said after a moment.
“What? You mean I don’t get to lie here and watch?”
“Out,” she said imperiously.
I grabbed my clothing and got dressed in our suite’s common room, then sat down and began preparing my daily spells. I left a few slots open in case I needed something specific, but most of my day’s loadout was for crafting.
Aurora headed down to see what kind of breakfast was available and I began jotting down my crafting schedule, using code names for what I was making in case of spies. Someone has to be mindful of operational security.
Geo came up to see me while I was working. As usual, it was weird. The first thing he said to me was, “I need a sample of your blood.”
It was going to be one of those days. “Good morning to you too.”
“Oh, yes. Good morning. So, can I have a sample?”
“I’m gonna need to know why.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, I’ve been considering that stuff you were exposed to in the great dark beyond. The stuff you said had powerful mutagenic properties.”
He wanted to know more about radiation? “And you think you can learn something about it from my blood?”
“Yes.”
Well, I couldn’t really see a reason to argue with that. “Fine, but sterilize the needle first.” He pulled out a steel syringe and sterilized it with moonshine, then took a sample from my arm.
Then he immediately injected the blood directly into his carotid artery. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”
“Analysis,” he replied calmly.
“You’re insane.”
“No, Master Kyle. On the contrary, I’ve never been more sane,” he said as he left. I would have crapped my pants if there was any crap in my colon.
“SAW-DAW!” Fleur – now wearing a long black wig – said ridiculously once Geo left, referencing one of my old fears.
“No jokes,” I said. “That was more than a bit creepy and you know it.”
“Of course it was. But it probably won’t be an issue much longer.”
This would be good. “Oh?”
“I don’t think he confirmed your blood types before giving himself that injection.”
“Oh crap!” I shot up and ran after him. I found Geo collapsed on the floor at the base of the stairs having a seizure.
“Kyle, what’s going on?” Ameiko asked, having heard my cries for help.
“Get Paulie!” I ordered. She quickly rushed to get him.
It was unnecessary. Suddenly the seizure stopped and Geo opened his eyes. “What seems to be wrong?” he asked me.
“What the hell happened?” I asked.
“I started feeling a terrible reaction, so I injected myself with a tonic to fix it. Apparently, the combination resulted in what you saw.”
“What was in the tonic?”
“Alcohol as a solvent and extracts from a number of plant sources.”
“Like what?”
“The major ingredient is from the seeds of the castor plant.”
What. “YOU INJECTED YOURSELF WITH RICIN?!”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what that is, but it worked.” He had a point.
“Okay, fine. Just remind me never to drink anything you’ve made.”
I headed back upstairs and cast my workshop spell. I needed something to take my mind off of that whole thing. I started trying to work on guns, but that wasn’t keeping my attention. I then started working on Aurora’s armor, but that was also too straightforward. I needed a real challenge, something I had never seen done before.
So I built a quantum computer.
It was surprisingly simple once I knew the principles behind it, which were in the book I’d read. The ironic part is that it’s likely that no one in the Technic League would be able to understand it for hundreds of years without a major breakthrough. But I had the knowledge they lacked. I was able to build on the work of those before my time. I knew the work of Rosen, Heisenberg, Einstein and Podolsky. I’ve made metamaterials in my dad’s garage, unstable and poor quality though they may be.
With my magical assistants working on the boring stuff, I managed to complete a working quantum computer in a little over two hours. I managed to create a housing for it and Fabricate a USB interface and keyboard for it in another half hour. By that evening, I had programmed a very basic but functional Virtual Intelligence interface to serve as something of an operating system.
Bill Gates, eat your heart out.
Orik made it in just after sundown. He brought with him several technicians from the Golemworks hired by the leadership of the Potent Rainbow Lions. Apparently they had been more than sold on the gun idea and wanted me to fully weaponize the carts of the companies they were sending. The techs were to help me in any way I needed. They also brought an entire cart of expensive crafting materials. Aww, yeah, baby.
“Oh, I also have something for you from your man in Magnimar,” Orik added.
“What’s that?”
“He sent you a horse, but I think you should find another one.”
That had me curious. “Oh?”
“She seems very odd. I mean, just watch her run.”
One of his men led her on a run from the back of his black gelding. Orik was right. She didn’t run. She hopped. Or maybe bounced was the right word. I was starting to get a feeling about this one. “Anything else odd about her?”
“She seems more playful than any horse I’ve ever seen. Sometimes, it’s almost as if she’s laughing when she makes sounds. And she won’t seem to let anyone ride her, not that anyone would want to ride a horse that runs like that.”
I grinned. “You just have to know how to read them. Someone bring me a cupcake.”
Five minutes later, using a tart since no one had a cupcake, I had won Pinkie Pie’s trust and we were bouncing around the town square. I was singing a jaunty tune and she was singing along – in a very horse-like kind of way. Orik looked on, very confused.
I grinned at him. “TO THE BAKERY!” I commanded the horse, laughing. She whinnied and began heading directly there, somehow already knowing the way.
That night, Aurora came to bed wearing underwear, to my great sadness. We talked for a bit and I let her know what I was planning for her armor, which she agreed to wholeheartedly. Then we went to sleep and the dreams began.
This time it started off as more of a memory than a dream, sort of. Shortly before I left Earth, I had been accepted into the alpha for a new MMO. It promised to be revolutionary, something no one had ever managed to do before.
It was to be something of a cross between a heist simulator like Payday 2 and a more traditional fantasy MMO with classic pen and paper RPG elements. It was meant to offer a number of possible missions with multiple ways to solve them dependent on your group makeup. For instance, conquering a dungeon might mean you go in and hack your way through the obstacles, or it might mean you sneak past everything and steal the treasure. Or maybe you befriend someone get invited in, bilking your targets out of their valuables. Or a combination of those.
And there was a faction system. Each player joined a side and might be given missions that affect the standings of the factions, offering benefits to all members of a faction until the balance had been tipped back.
It also had an extremely robust system of voice filters so you could roleplay while in game as whatever character you were, regardless of disparity between real life and character. This allowed the game to eschew almost entirely written chat unless you were using hearing impaired mode, which hadn’t been implemented at the time I played.
We were a team of six and were given a single directive: Rescue one of our faction’s spiritual leaders before he could be sacrificed in three days time. Failing that, we could anoint the altar of our foes with a small amount of the consecrated blood of an ocelot, our people’s spiritual animal, to prevent the sacrifice from pleasing our foes’ god.
We considered multiple solutions, including murder of our own holy man before he could be sacrificed, but decided on a rescue attempt since bringing him back alive got us a larger reward. We would infiltrate during the feast the day before the sacrifice from multiple angles.
I was playing as the party’s most social character, Rhoslyn Silverdew, a half-elf sorceress, so I went in as a wealthy socialite wanting to attend the party. Our party’s knight would serve as my bodyguard and three of the others snuck in as hired help of some kind. Our sixth member would – and I quote – use his “L337 N1NJ4 5K1LL5!” to enter by hugging the shadows.
Of course, Hoboken – yes, that’s what he called himself – wasn’t the ninja he thought he was. We were found out and the guards arrested my companions one by one. My protector was cut down quickly. I was all that remained and my arrest was imminent. This is where the dream started.
In real life, I had thought quickly and managed to spin a story about being there against my family’s wishes to convert to their religion, but hadn’t been able to say anything while my protector lived. They were dubious, but allowed me to perform the ritual, which ended with cutting my palm and dripping my blood on the fire. Only I mixed my blood with that from a vial of ocelot blood I’d smuggled in and completed the secondary objective, with them none-the-wiser.
The dream played out differently. I mean, first of all, I was my character, not just sitting in front of a screen. “Filthy creatures,” I spat. “You take our homes, murder our families and you demand we bow to your damnable god?! I don’t think so. BURN!” I then dropped a fireball right on myself, knowing I’d easily survive. I then quaffed a healing potion, stepped over their smoldering corpses and methodically murdered everyone in my way before marching the holy man right out the door, along with two of their own priests.
I don’t know what the dream meant, but I’m assuming it’s some sort of reflection on a new, more aggressive nature I’m trying to adopt since deciding to come back. And I’m not entirely certain why I’m bringing it up, other than the fact that I’m feeling bitter realizing that someone back home is probably playing that game right now. I hate that guy so much.
The next day, I got together with the people from the Golemworks and gave them an hour long lecture about operational security. “Okay, to summarize: You will not speak about our work outside of the extraplanar space. You will not sketch anything or do any models outside of the extraplanar space. If you need more time to plan and strategize, we will create a space safe from scrying to do so. All journals will go into a sealed chest that will not be opened outside of the protected spaces. Do you have any questions?”
One of the workers, a fairly attractive sorceress in her early twenties, motioned that she did have one. I nodded to her to go ahead. “Isn’t this a little much? I mean, we are careful around the shop, but this is strict even compared to that.” Several others nodded in agreement.
“Our enemy has shown an extreme ability to infiltrate and gather intel on our activities. This is all we can really do to counter that. So, unless there are any further questions, let’s be about it. We need to get a full day’s work in today. We’re expecting to leave either tomorrow or the day after.”
I cast the spell to open the magical workshop and we wheeled in one of the carts. Of course, they were suitably impressed by the masterwork that is my spell. But we didn’t have time to get worry about that. We had work to do.
I got them started animating the cart, explaining what we were doing and overseeing the project while I also began crafting weapons and some necessary mechanical components for it. This was going to be quite possibly the world’s first magitech construct, so I wanted to do it right.
I’ll be honest. I was having the time of my life. We even hooked the MP3 player into the shop’s speakers. Yeah, that’s a thing my spell could do and I hadn’t even realized it. I’m not sure the others quite got J-pop and Taylor Swift, though the geth workers seemed to enjoy it. The others liked the classical stuff well enough, though.
After a full day’s work was done, we closed up shop and exited to do other things. I spent a couple hours training with Aurora. The woman is a harsh instructor and would give Gunnery Sergeant Hartman a run for his money. Or maybe she’s not that bad and I’m whining because I have sore muscles I didn’t realize I had. All I know is that I feel like she’s a demon and it has nothing to do with a bed. No, she’s a perfect angel there, much to my chagrin.
Afterwards, I fabricated a screen for the MP3 player and had the VI load up the Fairy Blacksmith’s journal. It did pretty well, considering that the system didn’t have a text reader on it. I then cast a spell to allow me to read any language and started reading.
I must first note that they hadn’t sent me a single journal. This was a whole library of journals. I guess the good doctor had been playing her cards close to her chest. My second note is that there were two parts to the journal. She methodically kept notes about events on the left page and notes about research on the right pages. It’s almost like she was a bit OCD.
The events were pretty interesting. She was the daughter of the ruler of all the elves in Britain. They were apparently a simple folk, living in small villages but using magic to keep in touch and work together. They initially got along well with Camelot, but things went downhill for reasons she didn’t get into. She was the only one to see it coming, so she began preparations years before the trouble began.
The most important preparation was the creation of a new metal, which she called Fairy Steel, which was a brilliant substitute for adamantine. I was fascinated by the process in which she figured it out, which took almost five years, followed by several years of research as she crafted arms and armor for her brother. She ended up creating a suit of nearly invulnerable, yet surprisingly mobile armor that incorporated elements that history wouldn’t see again for centuries.
I decided that I would make the swords my future self had told me to craft out of Fairy Steel. Sure, it didn’t really offer any benefit beyond that provided by adamantine, and they’d require more costly materials – and thus a larger personal injury – to fabricate, but damn if it didn’t sound cool.
That evening, an advance contingent arrived and let us know that our remaining support units would be arriving sometime around noon due to a broken wagon wheel. Which was fine, since it gave us time to get more work done.
<Margin Note: Important work, like teaching a dozen villagers how to “Gangnam Style”?>
<Margin Note: Yes.>
<Margin Note: You’re so embarrassing.>
<Margin Note: EEHHH! SEXY LADIES! OP OP OP! OPPA GANGNAM STYLE!>
<Margin Note: One of these days, I’m going to find Samantha, reach out my hand and give her a high impact palm reading for taking you back home and letting you smuggle back that mp3 player.>
<Margin Note: Oh, come on, Fleur, you know you love it.>
The rest of our contingent, larger than I expected, arrived late in the morning and we set out. We found signs of giants all over, heading in the same direction we were going. A smarter man might have rethought the plan to go where so many giants were going, but I’m not a smart man, I’m a genius. So, obviously, I ‘m too stupid to know better.
I’m familiar with London. “I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.” I’m also familiar with The Kurgan. “It’s better to burn out than to fade away. Something something there can be only one.” It’s why I’m back here, after all. So onward we marched. Well, I rode, but some people marched. The crafters slept in a cart I’d outfitted with makeshift shock absorbers so that they’d be rested and ready to work when we made camp.
For the most part, the day was pretty uneventful, though the evening did have an interesting event. It was just after dark when Pinkie Pie hopped out of our makeshift corral and began hopping around playfully near a tree at the edge of camp. She looked like an overexcited puppy, if I’m being honest.
I shined a light on the tree and spotted the winged woman I had seen several times before. She looked at me quizzically then, with a single flap of her massive wings, shot off into the sky. I sighed. “I’m guessing no one saw her that time either?”
Aurora gave me a look. “Of course we saw her. She was right there.”
Really? Maybe I wasn’t going crazy after all. “But why didn’t you see her those times before?”
She shrugged. “Just missed seeing her, maybe?”
I was about ready to just drop the whole thing and instead focus on why she kept showing up, but Paulie interjected. “I’ve seen her before, bro.”
What. “What.”
“Yeah, bro. Sometimes, she comes while I’m keeping watch and just stares at your tent while you’re sleeping.”
I was speechless for a moment. “My tent? Like, specifically my tent?”
“Yeah, bro.”
“And you never mentioned it why?”
“Well, she seems pretty cool, so I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
I don’t remember what I said, but I think it was in Angrish, so I don’t think anyone else remembers what I said either. I vaguely remember something about wanting to turn Paulie’s pelt into a hat. I also remember repeatedly bashing my head into the muddy ground. At some point, my horse tried to bring me an apple. I think. It’s kind of a blur. I don’t think I actually attacked him. In fact, it probably looked like I was having a seizure or something to most people.
The first clear moment I have is waking up in my tent, Aurora sitting on her bedroll and giving me a concerned look. “I think I’m okay now,” I said. “But from now on, we set someone on watch with Paulie. I’d really like to be informed if someone we don’t know is entering our camp in the future.”
“Okay,” Aurora said. “It is a little creepy,” she admitted with a nervous titter.
“Well, not much we can do about it at the moment.” I said. “I need to get to work. Strip.”
“What?” She looked scandalized.
I grinned. “Your armor. I’ve figured out a way to adjust it to fix your little problem.”
“Oh, okay. Help me out here.”
That night – or morning, as it were – I showed my hired assistants what we were doing next on the first cart, fabricated the parts they would need and had several of the geth help me enchant Aurora’s armor. I was using an enchantment design commonly favored by the strongest paladins and luckily much of the base work was already done. All I had to do was add the beta and gamma runes – a moderately time consuming but not all that difficult task – to give it heavenly properties and lighten the armor significantly.
While I’m talking about that, let me rant for a moment. I will never understand my fellow magic crafters. This enchantment is a well-known one – Celestial Armor, they call it – adapted for a heavier set of full plate armor. So far, so good, right? Well, whomever it was that designed the spell form ascribed it a rigidity in the lightening department. It doesn’t so much lighten the armor as it sets the armor’s weight to a specific weight. Which is fine, if you’re using it on chainmail like it usually is. But, in order to not make it inordinately expensive to enchant, they had to raise the weight it changes to when using it on plate. Which again, is normally fine.
That is, of course, unless you’re using it on a suit of mithral plate, in which case you end up shaving off about an eighth of a pound. So, if you wanted to reduce the weight down to around that achieved in the chainmail version, you end up having to pay roughly triple the enchantment’s full cost, including the cost of the alpha enchantment – which is just the basic magical enhancement to the armor’s hardness and effectiveness.
Because, of course, they tied the reduction to the armor’s physical dimensions, not the armor’s weight. If instead they had made the enchantment work as a percentage of the armor’s weight, it would have been easy to adapt to all kinds of armor and would have instantly solved the mithral plate problem. And it wouldn’t have been all that hard, though the downside is that it would have been a little bit more expensive for regular steel armor. Still, I may do it when I have three or four weeks to just sit down and work on the problem.
But Aurora’s armor is adamantine, and thus I don’t really have to worry about it right now. The enchantment works just fine with adamantine’s properties.
The next day was dominated by fairly boring travel, which I got through by reading more about the Fairy Blacksmith’s work and playing music for Pinkie Pie because I didn’t want her to get bored and wander off. Like I said, you’ve just gotta know how to handle these strange ass horses.
As we moved, I had a eureka moment. It was beautiful. In one instant, I could see everything in the process right before my eyes. I began swapping things around and moving the parts by adding in the kinds of precision only possible with modern equipment. The Fairy Blacksmith’s work was brilliant, but I had tools she never would have dreamed of. I could revolutionize her work. What could be done with days of slaving using the old methods could instead be done in about six hours with a few assistants and extremely precise equipment. Even then, it would take extreme skill.
Luckily, I’m amazing. So is my horse. It tastes like raisins. Probably. Look, I’ve never licked the horse, though I did watch her lick a toad earlier. It was a little strange.
Anyway, I was naturally glad when we stopped early. The mercenary commander – Orik’s fellow commander, goes by the name Squibbles or something – decided we needed to stop because we didn’t want to reach the Storval Stairs after dark. He’d also spotted signs of some kind of animal herd – ibex or something – and wanted to get in a bit of hunting. I’m sure he wanted to study the creatures’ internal organs or something, since he’s a gnome and they do things like that.
But all that mattered is that I would have time to work on my very special project and would be able to let the technicians rest, since they’d been whining about the grueling pace we had been setting. Let them relax their way, I would relax mine. Then, when I was done, they could get to work while I rested my muscles.
I was using music to time my blows, and was in the middle of singing when Aurora showed up. I was also immediately aware that I was shirtless – it was hot, okay? – and wearing only a leather apron over my chest. And okay, so maybe I flexed a few times when I thought she might be looking to show off my arms. But is that really so wrong?
I talked her into singing with me for a bit while I worked, which was great for taking my mind off the ache in my shoulders and the sweat dripping from my brow. She really does have an incredible voice. With a little training, I’m sure she could sing for an opera.
No, I really mean it. She speaks with a powerful contralto, but sings in both the mezzo-soprano and soprano ranges where necessary. We really do make beautiful music together. And I’m not saying that figuratively. She’s a hell of a lot of fun to sing with and I’m sure anyone listening would enjoy the experience. In fact, having her there made it hard to concentrate. I kept imagining tearing off her armor with magic, tossing her on a nearby workbench and ravishing her thoroughly. But I didn’t prepare that spell today – she’s sleeping in her armor on the road, so there’s little risk of needing to get her armored up in a hurry – and she’d probably kill me if I tried.
I was right when I thought that it would take about six hours to complete the sheet of metal. This was followed by about an hour of work with a precision laser to cut out and sharpen the blades and cut them into the necessary pieces. All that was left was the technological component, which I could work on later.
I cleaned myself off, set the technicians to work and laid down with Aurora for a bit. After the rest, I recovered my mp3 player. I told the VI to play me something fun, so it loaded up a message from Katie for some reason. I’ll have to work on that.
I’m just glad it didn’t play that message for Aurora. It would have been embarrassing to have her hear what Katie had said about my feelings for her. Still, it was good to hear my sister’s voice. I’m sure she must be worried sick. I would have to find a way to make it up to her and the rest when I got home.
Rested, I got back to work with the technicians. Now, I’m not going to tell you exactly what I have them doing to the carts, but let’s just say that I’ve been considering the names of Native American tribes to name them after. I think I can say that. It’s not like Lyrie would ever realize the significance of that if she ever got ahold of this journal.
During the night, the hunters returned, grabbed our smaller merchant cart and Paulie, then headed back out. I went around camp verifying the battery levels on all our radios in case something came up, then returned to my vigil over Aurora’s sleep.
Naturally, Fleur kept teasing me by singing “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing”.
Shortly after dawn, the hunters returned with the cart fully loaded. I was expecting a few animal carcasses, and those were there, but they were joined by a number of large barrels. I went to check it out, and it turns out that they had found a burned down ranch and evidence of ogre cattle rustling. They had apparently come for Paulie because they needed someone to help burn the bodies of the ranch’s inhabitants. They also hunted down the ogres, who had gotten drunk and passed out, then returned and inspected the ranch. In a cellar, they found the barrels, which contained a rather expensive tasting brandy.
We opened up one of the barrels and shared it around the camp – roughly a cup for each person – and then sent the rest back with some of the support staff to sell. We were pretty sure that the road behind us was clear, so it would be pretty safe for them to do so.
On the road late the next morning, we came across a destroyed caravan. Most everything of value was gone, as were almost all the people. Only one person remained. We found him injured and trapped under an overturned cart. He was pretty beat up and dehydrated, but healed up quickly once we smacked him with a healing wand and gave him something to drink.
The merchant told us that his fellows had been set upon by a group of hill giants and ogres. Some had been killed in the fighting – and the fact that the bodies weren’t still there told a stomach-turning tale – while others had been dragged off alive. As we suspected, the giants had headed off towards the Storval Stairs.
The merchant decided to stay with our army, worried about the fate of his surviving friends. We gave him a crossbow and taught him its use, then told him to stay out of our way. We then continued on towards the only path up the escarpment.
The Storval Stairs were literal stairs carved into a cliff side. Using telescopes, we got a good look at the garrison manning the top. Geo was troubled by what we saw. “Giants don’t usually work with hobgoblins.”
“Likely mercenaries,” Aurora said. “I’ve encountered hobgoblin mercenaries before. They’re brutal and ruthless.”
“But giants wouldn’t hire hobgoblins like that.”
“Lyrie might,” I interjected.
“I’m really starting to wish we had killed her when we had the chance,” Aurora said.
“I warned you.”
Orik just shook his head. “So what do we do?”
“It’s going to be rough getting to the top. I’m thinking we fly up a shock force and take down the most dangerous troops up there before bringing up our main force. Paulie, you ready to burn some people?”
The cat man twitched, then grinned. “I’m ALWAYS ready to burn people!” He was perhaps a tad too enthusiastic.
“Good man. Then that’s what we’re doing. I’ll grow larger, cast as many flight spells as possible, then we’ll ferry people up. Orik, pick out your top three soldiers for this kind of role. Squibbles, we have room for three of yours as we-” I stopped suddenly. “Anyone know where Squibbles went?” I was answered by the sound of explosions. I spat out an invective I’m not going to repeat here. “The mortars!”
We rushed over and found that the gnome, as one of the very few who knew about the mortars I had fabricated, had pulled the weapons out of a cart and had started raining technological death upon our enemies.
I was livid. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
“It seemed faster,” the gnome answered with a shrug.
“And now our enemies know we have them! These were supposed to be our trump card against the giants, and now they’re going to have a full day or more to prepare countermeasures.” I would have hit him, but Fleur told me to focus on the situation at hand. “Give me that,” I said to a nearby soldier. “We don’t have the shells to waste on you lining up a proper shot.” I ran calculations in my head in a matter of seconds and fired a trio of precise shots, knocking the shack at the top down on its inhabitants.
I then nodded at Aurora and she sounded the charge.
The fighting was quick and brutal, but in the end we were victorious with minimal losses. Two deaths and three injuries was an amazing victory considering the strength of the force we were up against.
We made camp at the top of the stairs to lick our wounds and pick through the intelligence we managed to gather from a few hobgoblin prisoners. I then spent the rest of the night figuring out new technologies to bring to bear against our foes, in case they were successful in countering the mortars. I did have one thing going for me, though I am loathe to admit it. But as they say, all’s fair in love and war, and we were looking at the likely complete extermination of all human life in a hundred mile radius if we failed. So what was that advantage, you ask?
Well, clearly our enemies weren’t signatories to the Geneva Protocol, obviously. That gave me an entirely new dimension of hell I could unleash upon them.
The fight for Jorgenfist promised to be nothing if not interesting.
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