“Something you need to remember is that there’s a good reason that Greenskins and humans tend to hate each other. They consider us corrupted by having aspects in our souls, and we consider them monsters for enslaving aspects as totems and using them for power instead of freely sharing. They also don’t tend to have much of a problem with violating the six laws in various ways, and their necromancers and mediums are treated a lot like our patternists, with respect, power, and wealth. That’s why we are close to constantly at war with them.”

“Raspail doesn’t use a totem, he’s not a shaman, but he still has a bit of an attitude about humans. He’s more or less civilized, and a talented worksmith, but he might be willing to teach you how to push essence like the greenskins do. I am not sure what he will want in exchange, though. Maybe money, maybe works, maybe ideas like your gas cannon. He is very picky about the six laws because that’s what lets him live and work among us, but he’s not… friendly. I guess. Not in the way we are.”

“Worksmith? Does that mean he makes guns?”

She shook her head, “I mean, yes, he does, but he’s not a regular gunsmith. He’s a worksmith. Sort of like an enchanter, in a way, but he’s hugely fond of workings instead. Mechanical essence storage, kinetic distribution, and even naturally altering essence, like your fire turning into air bullets, are right in his wheelhouse.”

We were heading downtown, to the west, the lower-quality housing and shops away from the gate. Once we’d left the area of the gate, a lot more of the odors I associated with cities started assaulting my nose, but to me? Well, it was a pretty normal sign of a dense population. Still better than Mogadishu, or even New Delhi… or probably even Los Angeles, based on what I’d seen in the news while I was sick. People sleeping in the street always led to people shitting in the street, and apparently politicians hated history.

“A lot of gunsmiths prefer to buy the actual gun workings from him, but he doesn’t run a normal shop, because he doesn’t get along very well with people. Most greenskins don’t use works at all, though, and consider them… a sign of weakness, although the small ones are often very talented worksmiths. That’s why most cities have a few.”

Huh, a familiar fantasy name. “Do you know what the rest of them are called? The greenskins?”

She nodded, “Yes, they interbreed freely, but are born with particular categories, sort of like ants, or even aspects in a way. The smallest are called gremlins. They are generally the crafters, cooks, and builders of greenskin tribes. Usually gifted with some kind of crafting trait, they are still little better than slaves, because greenskins value strength above all else. Eventually, they can evolve into trolls, which Raspail is, and they are a lot tougher and able to heal from almost anything, but they still aren’t very big or overly strong.”

“Above that are goblins. They are a little shorter than a human but are generally the vast majority of the tribe. They tend to evolve as they gain advancement and power, eventually becoming hobgoblins, the tribe’s powerful warriors, leaders, and hunters, and someday even potentially becoming a bugbear… Huge, smart, and deadly rulers of the tribes.”

“Ogres are a lot bigger than goblins, and even hobgoblins, but they are sort of like the tribe’s ultimate warriors. They are kind of stupid unless they are born with some kind of essence gift and then they can become Ogre Magi, deadly, smart, powerful shamans that are still as tough and brutal as any ogre.”

She smiled a little, “I wouldn’t talk about greenskin tribes with him, though. He’s hard to get along with, and he’s got a chip on his shoulder about the tribes. He’s not popular here in Kanten, but he’s got some respect for his abilities, and he’s pretty well off. He has two wives, both are also ropan crafters, Melita and Carni, but he’s kind of sensitive about his appearance, so if you act like you are interested in them he’ll probably get defensive.”

I chuckled, “It sounds like just about anything I do might set him off.”

She nodded, “You probably will. He has a quick temper and a rough mouth, which is why he doesn’t run a shop, but it fades just as quickly if he’s interested, and he’s not particularly violent. Far less so than most greenskins, which is probably why he’s here.”

I noticed a lot of odd features as we passed through the working quarter of the town. Several streams were running through, right down the middle of the street, and many of them passed through carefully constructed waterways into and out of buildings. There were also a lot of pipes. Waterwheels and windmills seemed to be popular decorations, often connected to broad bronze or iron gears that made it look steampunk. No steam, though… but ticking, pinging, and whirring, seemed to come from every corner.

I stopped, on the side of the road, and just bathed in the sights. “This place is not what I expected.”

“What do you mean?” Wandi asked.

“I mean, I was expecting things like shanties, or wooden buildings, or dust and dirt. Not the ticking and clacking and ringing… the stores and places near the gateway weren’t anything like this, they were more like manors.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

She nodded, “My flat is actually in the nicer part of town because I am a high tin hunter. All of the works in the better places are hidden in quiet areas. But down here, well, a lot of the businesses are reliant on their works. Smiths need their trip hammers and auto-bellows, tailors their sewing machines, and so on.”

“A lot of people get their kinetics from things like water wheels and windmills, or they just use muscle power, like most seamstress machines. Transferring essence works, but most crafters seldom exceed wood or tin, so their essence is limited. Some higher-ranks with big energy pools will charge up coils, but that’s expensive and usually only used for other works devices, like portable forges.”

“You keep saying works.” I said, looking at the big gears, “What are they?”

“Clockworks. But people just say works for short. The industrial quarter might not look like much, but Kanten is known for some of the most cutting-edge technology in the new world. The old world has a lot more powerful enchantments, incredible array masters, and even array formations the size of cities, but when it comes to clockworks and machines, we are so far ahead of those old curmudgeons it’s not funny.”

“A powerful master could still come in and trash the city singlehandedly, but for dealing with armies of greenskins and tribal lupans, or dealing with waves… well… even a wood stage that can channel essence can use a gun, and some of the more powerful weapons could blow apart even an iron-tier abomination.”

I chuckled, “God created man, but Sam Colt made them equal.”

“Hmm?” she asked, smiling.

“A well-known gunsmith from my land. He created one of the most well-known and well-loved firearms of all time, the Colt Peacemaker. Anyone could use them, no matter how powerful they were, and they were deadly. My land stated that all men were created equal before God morally, but the joke was that while God created all men, Samuel Colt’s Peacemaker made them equal.”

She nodded, “Good saying. Not accurate when it comes to higher-tier essence users, some of them can just ignore bullets like fleas, but at the lower tiers, it certainly seems true.”

I was looking around as we approached a heavy, brick and cut-stone building with few windows covered with windmills and no less than three waterwheels, driven by water coming out of a large pipe. “Why aren’t there steam engines?”

“Steam engines?”

I nodded, “You know, light a fire under a pot of water, put a windmill over the water so that it turns as the steam from the boiling water rises? I mean, yeah, there are more complicated systems using pressure from the steam, but I am not an engineer. I wiki… I read a lot when I was sick, so I know how to make basic stuff like steel and basic steam engines. I also know dummy engineer stuff like underground corkscrew water pumps and basic piston systems, but I have seen brass, Iron, steel, and bronze. So why is it all wind and water powered?”

She peered at me gaugingly. “I take it back. Raspail is going to LOVE you. If you know about that kind of stuff, shifting essence from fire and water into air and kinetic, he’ll probably try to give you one of his wives or something.”

Nope, I was not going to be that book hero who suddenly tries to launch an entire society into the 21st century… but if their technology was already as far as guns, at least a type of gun, then steam and even chemical energy should already be available… and if that led to longer hot showers instead of buckets, I was going to look into at least the simple stuff.

Oh, and a better way of making coffee. Maybe a French press. Those were easy, and washing grounds out of your mouth, while an acceptable price to pay for coffee, wasn’t needed to enjoy the flavor and morning rush.

“He sounds like a nerd.”

“A what?”

I had expected the question. It was weird that a lot of Earth terms worked here, but I figured Nerd wouldn’t be one of them. “A guy that is intensely interested in technology to the exclusion of almost everything else. Almost every conversation will cycle back to his interest, and if you don’t look bored or work to change the subject, he can go for hours just talking about whatever type of technology that he’s working with, and even his side interests tend to mesh with whatever his primary interests are.”

She nodded, “That sounds like Raspail. I do a lot of business with him. He’s no gunsmith, but he still makes a damned fine and essence-efficient piece, even if his enchanting is… meh. Trackers, trap-breakers, telescoping triggers, climbing kits, most of his stuff is weird, but some of the best around for delvers.”

She knocked on a heavy door at the front of the building, and after a moment, a slit at about waist level in the door’s ornate brass facade slid open. “Yes?” a pleasantly high but not shrill female voice asked.

“It’s me.”

The slit closed, and the door opened to reveal a very cute girl, probably mid-twenties, dressed in a slightly stained pair of coveralls and an engineer’s cap in between her large, rounded mouse-like ears. She was extremely short, probably a hair over four feet tall, but she hopped out and hugged Wandi. “Hi Wandi!” she said, “You haven’t been here in a while. Do you need me to open up the warehouse? Or do you have a special request?”

Wandi smiled and bent down to hug the girl. “Hey, Melita. Sorry, I have been out on hunts. I have a special request, but it’s not gear. This is Tony, and he’s good. I need to talk to Raspy, about a problem that… well… tell him that he’s the smartest man I know, and it may require his personal touch of genius to resolve.”

Melita giggled, “Oh, you know how to talk to him. Sure. Let me get his head out of his latest project. He’s in a bit of a mood, since the Regent contracted him to make an artillery piece capable of one-shotting a kindrake, and the barrel capable of lobbing that big of a projectile is enormous… He wants even a wood rank to be able to muscle the guidance, but it’s heavy as hell, and it’s making him mad.”

She led us down a set of metal stairs, through two doors, and into a very large factory floor, where I could hear a steady stream of angry and incomprehensible words coming from the far end of a thirty-foot-long pipe that was a good foot around.

She held up her hand for us to stay, and then walked around behind the pipe. I could hear a few whispers, and after a little more angry muttering, a gremlin stepped around from behind the pipe and glared at us balefully.