“Everything should be ready soon. Amanda is working on the steel ingots needed for the machinery parts and the limbs. I also asked Durnan to bring over his crossbow so that you can use it as a blueprint and size it up.”
“We will also need a tripod or something to mount them on.”
“Yes, we will,” Quentin agreed. “But that should be the least of our worries. Anyway, how did it go over at Mistfield?”
“I fixed up and reinforced the gates, plus I brought over and enchanted a bit over a hundred shields and swords. They’re locked up in the town hall. Please ask Valerie to bring them over to Mistfield since I’ll be too busy dealing with the ballistas and the golems.”
“Sure thing,” Quentin nodded. “Are you going to start on the ballistas immediately?”
“Sadly, we don’t have the luxury of messing around. I’ll head over to the smithy while you take care of the enchanted stuff Zola’s people need. Do you know if Mary has finished those statues I asked for?”
“She finished them before sundown just outside the town’s gate. They look pretty good.”
“Let’s just hope they will work fine as well. Anyway, we should get going.” The dark elf remarked while packing up his things before heading out.
The way toward the smithy felt awkward as he could feel the people’s gazes upon himself, their nervousness almost vibrating through the air. ‘Today’s meeting is going to be a hassle.’ He thought, trying to figure out how he could best present the situation without causing complete panic among the townsfolk. By the time he arrived at the smithy, he had some half-baked and extremely corny speech ideas but decided to focus on the matter at hand. He knocked on the door and a good minute later Sophie opened it to let him inside.
“Good morning Sophie!” The spell weaver greeted her.
“Good morning,” she said with a less than enthusiastic voice. “Come on in.”
“Is everything okay? You don’t look so good.” He remarked as the young woman closed the door behind them.
“I just didn’t sleep well. My head was all over the whole incoming war and whatnot.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Hey there,” Amanda greeted him as he entered the smithy area. “Are you here about those ballistas? We have both the steel and the wood ready.”
The half-giant pointed towards a small pile of steel ingots that had a couple of roughly chopped waist-high wooden logs beside it. Durnan’s crossbow was also there, leaning on the nearby wall.
“Could you help me pull apart that crossbow? I need to have a proper look at its parts if I want to recreate them.”
“You do realize that’s not how ballistas work, right? It’s supposed to be more complicated than that.” Amanda remarked as the two began to dismantle the weapon.
“I’m not a siege engineer, so all I know is that the ballista is supposed to be an upscaled crossbow but with a winch at the end to get it armed. And besides, I don’t plan on creating some humongous monstrosity, maybe three times the size of this one.”
“I guess we can get away with an upscaled crossbow then,” the half-giant nodded. “It’s not like I’ve built one before or something.”
“Do you have any idea how to mount these things? I don’t know how to make them move up and down or to the side.”
“I can draw it for you. My dad and I once had to craft something like that for our neighbour’s water canon.” Amanda offered, grabbing a piece of parchment and charcoal so that she could draw the design of the moving parts needed.
“Water canon?”
“He was a retired firefighter and wanted a mock one for his grandkids.”
“Sound’s like a neat grandfather to have,” the spell weaver sighed. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”
The two of them worked silently while Sophie did her own thing. After the parts of the weapon were laid out, the dark elf created a transmutation ward and began to craft the upscaled pieces. Once all three sets were done, they assembled one of them, marvelling at the result of their work. It looked quite menacing even without being mounted and loaded. Charlatan’s wisdom also confirmed his expectations.
{Steel-reinforced recurve ballista}
{Rarity: uncommon}
{Quality: ordinary}
{Durability: 100}
{Damage: 125}
“Not bad,” Regis hummed. “It already has a base damage of a hundred and twenty-five even without any enchantments.”
“A hundred and twenty-five? Damn. How much do you think you can amp it up?”
“I should be able to add another fifteen points of damage to it, plus the bolts have their own damage values.”
“So….”
“It could get up to somewhere around a hundred and fifty. Easily a hundred and seventy-five or more with an enchanted bolt. About two hundred if we use one of those exploding bolts.”
“That should be able to put down even a third-tier knight, right?”
“Depends on how good their equipment is. If it’s good enough, a reinforced shield can soak up around thirty to forty damage. Even if we shoot through that, a well-crafted and enchanted breastplate can negate another fifty or so damage. That’s eighty to ninety points worth of damage gone. Unless we manage to hit a vital organ, they could actually survive.”
“What if we use one of those exploding bolts instead of a metal-tipped one?”
“Imagine a steel riot shield getting struck by an RPG.”
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“Damn.”
“Yeah. We won’t know how good this thing is until we get it mounted and have a few trial shots. Let me craft a couple of bolts, then we can tell Grego and his people to bring these over to the mountain pass. I’ll enchant them once they’re mounted.”
“Sure.” The blacksmith agreed, leaving the dark elf to his work while she had it over to the barracks to call the soldiers.
By the time she returned, nearly a hundred ballista bolts were piled up at the side.
“I see you’ve been busy” Grego noted as he walked into the smithy. “Looks good enough.”
“We’ll assemble the other two as well and you can bring them over to the gates. Then we can decide where to mount them.”
Assembling the other two ballistas went faster now that they knew how to do it properly. Once the guards took away the hefty weapons and the ammunition, Grego turned toward the loremaster.
“How are you holding up, lad?”
“I’m hungry and tired, but otherwise I’m fine.”
“You sure?” The man looked at him suspiciously.
“Yeah. I mean, all things considered, we have a lot better chance to survive this shit than I thought we would. Especially if we have time to finish preparations.”
“Good to hear. And besides, they might just forget about us with all the infighting that is about to happen.”
“I doubt that but one can always hope.”
“Anyway, we should get going. You have a trio of ballistas to deliver and I have a pair of war golems to create.”
“War golems?” Grego stopped as he heard the words.
“What? Did you think I asked Mary to create those giant statues just for fun? I plan on posting them at the main gate of the mountain pass. Unless we wake them up, they should look like fancy decorations.”
“I just hope you know what you are doing,” the man sighed. “I have seen such things in a war before. Once they receive a command, they will only stop when destroyed. And given the size of those two and your skill with magic tinkering, I shudder to think about the damage they can cause.”
“All the more reason to make them. I don’t know what kind of firepower the enemy could bring down on us, so it’s best if we prepared for the worst.”
The two of them left the smithy, Grego joining the others on the horse cart that was meant to bring the ballistas to the mountain pass. Regis stopped not far from the town gate, staring at the pair of sandstone statues. ‘They look pretty cool.’ He admitted as he looked at the knight-style statues, one having a kite shield and a mace while the other had a shield and a war hammer.
‘The soul-core is supposed to go to where its heart should be. Damn, that’s high.’ Having no better idea, the loremaster conjured a condensed earth wall and stairs so that he could reach up to the chest of the statue. He used his Earth Magic to turn a part of the statue back into dirt, carving a hole for the grapefruit-sized orb. After he planted the soul cores in the statues, he filled back the hole and turned the statues into the hardest granite he could. ‘Now for the troublesome part.’
The loremaster sat beside the first statue how to begin to meditate, the familiar void in his mind space greeting him as a blank canvas for what was to come. He recalled the runic diagram needed for a golem and began to draw it up in his mind. Several cycles of redrawing later a solid grey runic circle formed, connected to nearly a dozen smaller runic diagrams. Regis felt weary, his mind slow and addled. He left his mind space and stood up with shaky legs, looking at the statue that didn’t seem to be any different than before.
“Awaken!” He ordered and an immediate change occurred. Glowing grey lines and runes lit up across the body of the granite statue, its eyes opening to reveal the same teal-coloured light that glowed in its soul core.
“Walk over to that rock!” The dark elf pointed at a basketball-sized stone not far from him.
The golem did as told and began to walk toward the stone with slow and heavy steps. It stopped beside the rock, making it look like a pebble beside its large feet.
“Slumber!” The new order came and the golem took up a guardian-like pose before closing its eyes, the runes and lines fading on its surface.
‘Bloody hell I’m awesome.’ Regis smirked as his ego got sated, prompting him to meditate and regain his spent arcana. A while later when the second golem was finished, he looked at his runic watch and let out a sigh. ‘It’s time to get over to the town hall.’ Looking at the pair of golems, the loremaster ordered them to wake up, the runic lines reappearing on the giant statues.
“Follow this path toward the mountain pass and stop in front of the gates, then slumber!” He ordered and the golems began to walk along the path as instructed.
The loremaster returned to Thornfell, making his way to the town hall that was already filled to the brim with nervous townsfolk.
“Greetings everyone,” he said after walking over to the podium. “I wish this meeting could have happened under happier circumstances, but that is not the case. King Mikkel of Ecragurne is dead.”
The crowd practically blew up into whispers after he dropped the news bomb. He raised his hand up, prompting them to quiet down before he would continue.
“I know what many of you might be thinking and your fears are not without reason. From the information we received, the king passed away without naming a successor and his sons practically jumped at each other’s throats the moment their father died. Thanks to the Archbishop from the Church of the Seven Path, they ceased their actions until the funeral of the late king is over, but they have already sent out word for their followers to make preparations.”
“Milord...” Tristan tried to speak up, hoping to convince him to be less forward about the matter but the dark half waved him to silence.
“I know that you are worried. So am I. Thorn Vale lies outside of the kingdom’s borders so we technically shouldn’t get involved in the succession war, but depending on the result of it and who will inherit a throne, they might turn their gaze toward us. Besides that, one of our allies had also asked us for our help. We provided them with whatever surplus equipment and enchantments we could give without getting too involved or risking the safety of Thorn Vale. However, I want you to know that I refuse to send any of you into battle for someone else’s land.”The townsfolk seemed to be more relaxed after hearing his statement, but the air was still stiff.
“With all that said, we have already begun to prepare for the worst possible turn of events. Nina was asked to buy any supplies we might need, should we get cut off from our other allies. We have begun to reinforce the mountain pass and prepared some heavy weaponry as well. All I ask of you is to continue your work as before so that life in Thornfell could continue on without any problems. That is all I have to say.”
“Milord,” one of the less fazed townsfolk rest his hand. “What happens if they do get through the mountain pass?”
“If that were to happen,” the dark elf sighed. “We would evacuate the townsfolk to a gateway outside our territories I prepared for such an occasion.”
These words were met with an audible sigh from the people, most of them giving a slight bow to their lord as a show of gratitude. After the townsfolk dispersed and only the core members of the group were left in the town hall, Cruz couldn’t help but cuss.
“You’re fucking terrible at motivational speeches. Couldn’t you have said something a bit more uplifting?" The tomboyish wood-elf remarked.
“Lies won’t get us anywhere,” Regis answered. “I can’t tell them that everything is going to be fine when we might get a bloody army knocking on our doors a few days from now. They should know the whole thing and be prepared for it. That way we can save as many of them as possible should the worst thing happen.”
“Ever the optimist.” Osmond remarked.
“Are we really not going to help Zola if her people get attacked?” Sophie asked worried.
“We don’t have the military power to spare.” Quentin stated.
“Not to mention that if we personally interfere that could be seen as us trying to directly involve ourselves with the succession war.” Fabien added with Valerie nodding in agreement.