We crossed back over the slope, slower and more carefully this time. When we reached the other side, we were surrounded by a whole group of human soldiers. They obviously didn’t like the orcs very much or the three of us because of our association. Then, it was back up the mountain for us. Going up was a lot more taxing than going down was. We had to stop for breaks on a regular basis and that did not endear us to the soldiers. That was especially true as it was quite dark out by this time. Anyone with their ears open could hear the snide comments they made about our conditioning. I had to fight the urge to ask them how they would feel if they had to climb a mountain and then worked harvesting gold from sun up to sun down.

We reached our mining area again and I was surprised to note that the fire under the crucible hadn’t even burned out. The events of the day felt like they had taken much longer than they actually had. Tikter went back to refining. Everyone else collapsed, tried to eat a little food and got some sleep. The next day, the rest of the company started mining and panning gold as soon as it was light out enough to see. I will say this about greed, it is a great motivator.

Now we needed to do four things. First, we needed to figure out how to make charcoal. I knew that charcoal was formed when wood was heated up in an oxygen starved environment. I had seen many people manufacturing it in this world since I had arrived and they almost all used pit kilns. They dug a hole, started burning wood in the hole and then covered the whole thing with dirt. I had no idea how long the process took. We also had to harvest bat guano for the saltpeter content. We needed to give good instructions to the Gremmans Confederation scouts, who would need to find our sulfur for us. And finally, we needed something to store the finished product, provided I could get the ratios right. A small barrel or cask would do.

I walked over to the Captain.

“We are going to need a large cask or small barrel of some kind to store the black powder. It needs to be something we can put a fuse in. The fuse can be as simple as a long piece of cloth covered in lamp oil, although we will have to do some testing to make certain the fuse doesn’t burn too fast and blow us all up before we can get away.”

“I can get your cask,” he said. “Come, let’s meet with the scouts and get them looking for the brimstone you described.”

He summoned an older human to his side. Then, pointing at me, he spoke.

“Listen to his description. It is very important that you find what he is describing or this whole plan will fail and we will lose the island.”

Wow, nothing like putting a little pressure on his subordinates. I didn’t think that sulfur would be too hard to locate given our presence on a volcanic island, but then again you just never know.

“You are looking for a yellow, somewhat crystalline substance,” I said. “You will know you have the correct crystals if they do not dissolve in water, at least not very much, depending on their purity. It will be solid at the temperature here. Often times, if it is not pure, the area around it will smell nasty, like rotten eggs. The smell is not from the sulfur itself but is from compounds that are associated with it.”

“I know what brimstone looks like,” the man replied. “We use it to create flaming shot for our catapults.”

“Great,” I said. “I know that it is usually found in volcanic regions and since this island was originally a volcano, hopefully it won’t be very difficult to find. We need a lot of it. I need to do some experimentation to get the ratios of the powder correct. I have not made it before. We also need as much reasonably dry wood as we can find. We could also use some help getting the third ingredient, which is bat guano. I know where some is located, we just have to go get it.”

“I can assign some men to assist you,” the Captain said. “You need to get this made as quickly as possible, though, and get on with your mission.”

“I don’t know how long it takes to make charcoal,” I said. “Do either of you?”

“I believe it takes at least ten days,” the Captain replied. “That is too long, far too long. I suppose there is probably some in the supplies on our ships. The blacksmiths need it after all. I will send some men to acquire some. Is there anything else you require?”

“We will need something to grind everything with and mix it all together. A mortar and pestle would be ideal but I suppose if we have too we can fashion something out of a coarse rock.”

“I will see what I can find you,” he said. Then he turned to the other man, who I thought perhaps was the leader of his scouts. “I also need you to bring a small barrel or cask back, some long strips of cloth of some sort, and some lamp oil. Can you do these things?”

“Yes, sir,” the other man replied. Then he turned and headed off. I could immediately hear him starting to bark orders to his subordinates.

“Will you go retrieve the bat guano today?” he asked.

‘That’s the plan,” I replied. “Could you send a couple of people with us to help carry? I would ask some of the orcs but they all have get rich quick fever and none of them look like they would receive the suggestion very well.”

“I can,” he replied. “But understand that if you try to run, all your compatriots’ lives are at risk.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said before?” I said. “I am a man of my word. That and I really need you to get the people we talked about off this island. I am committed to see this through.”

“Excellent,” he said. “We will get along splendidly then.”

I wandered back over to Aleyda and Bowen and filled them in on the plan.

“Let me get this straight,” Bowen said. “You are going to introduce black powder to this world?”

“That’s my intention,” I answered. “In a world where fire magic is real, I don’t think that firearms or cannons will ever really develop. The risks are too great. But unless you have a better plan to knock down the gate, this is what we have to do. I don’t suppose you know the recipe to black powder, do you?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I read something about it once,” he replied. “I think you use far more saltpeter than anything else and more charcoal than sulfur, but I could be wrong.”

“Well, if we can get the ingredients, we will have to do some experimentation,” I said. “At least your knowledge might help with that experimentation. I was just going to start by mixing everything together in equal amounts and see what happens. From what you described, the answer would likely be not very much. Today, the three of us and a few soldiers are going to go collect some bat shit. If what you said is true, we will need a lot of it.”

“Oh, joy,” Aleyda interjected.

“Joy, indeed,” I said.

About that time, I noticed the captain bringing over a squad of five soldiers to us.

“Here are the men who will help you harvest bat guano,” he said. “They all have large bags with extras for each of you. How far away is the site?”

“Not too far,” I said. “Maybe an hour or a little more in each direction. We will need to be choosy about what we harvest which likely means digging a little bit. Can you get us a couple of shovels? The ones I brought are being used to acquire gold.”

“I can get you one or two,” he said, giving a meaningful look to one of the soldiers who immediately ran off to do his superior’s bidding. Soon, he was back carrying a couple of short handled shovels.

“Alright, we’re off,” I said to the Captain. Then, we started heading downstream to intersect the trail that led farther up the mountain.

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We made it to the entrance cave without incident. When we got there, one of the soldiers looked around and remarked that someone had been living there.

“I know about that and so does your captain,” I replied. “Getting those people off the island is part of the payment for this job.”

Then, we took the short tunnel to a cave full of bats.

“Careful,” I told the soldiers. “Cover your exposed skin with something. Bats can carry some nasty diseases.”

After arranging suitable protection, we entered the cave and started doing some exploratory excavations with the shovels. Dung that was too wet wouldn’t be any good for us. We would be forced to let it dry and that would take time we really didn’t have. Eventually, we realized that the driest areas were those spots where the accumulation of crap had spilled out into the adjoining tunnels. Since new deposits weren’t constantly remoisturizing everything underneath, we were able to fill our bags in short order. It was nasty, disgusting work. To get enough, we had to cross the chamber and harvest from both the entrance tunnel and the one leading deeper into the mountain. Thankfully, the bats stayed away from us, absent a couple of quick dive bombing runs. Soon, our bags were full and we were ready to head back.

Before we headed back, though, I led everyone to the thin rivulet of water that we had showered in before. Getting everyone reasonably clean took quite a bit of time as we had to use the water one by one. Nobody complained about the time it took, though. Tromping an hour through the jungle smelling odoriferous bat shit was not anybody’s idea of a good time.

We made it back to camp in the early afternoon. Given that nobody had arrived with sulfur or charcoal yet, the three of us pitched in with the gold harvest. By the time night fell, we still didn’t have the rest of the supplies we needed. I wandered over to the captain.

“You stink,” he said.

“Bat shit will do that to a person,” I replied. “But it is all for the greater glory of the Gremmans Confederation, right?”

“Glory is one thing but living with that smell is another.” He tossed me a cake of some crudely made lye soap. “Take your time and get cleaned up.”

“I will, but can you tell me when you expect the others back?”

“Sometime tomorrow, provided they can find your brimstone,” he said.

Nodding, I turned and headed downstream to get clean. The soap was caustic, irritating my skin wherever it touched, but it was still better than smelling like I had. After I was done, I shared the soap with Aleyda and Bowen who were surprisingly grateful to receive it.

“Careful with your more sensitive bits,” I said as they wandered off to get clean.

If twelve people were enough to scare off predators, a whole army unit certainly added to our apparent ferocity. We were not bothered that night.

In the middle of the afternoon the next day, a unit of soldiers returned carrying bags of charcoal and a large cask. They also managed to obtain a small mortar and pestle. I could see a lot of repetitive grinding in our futures if we were going to fill that cask.

Once again, our night was restful. We didn’t abandon our own guards, of course. We didn’t need one of the friends of the scout that we had slain creeping over to our side of the camp that night and evening the score. The captain was right, however. His troops were disciplined and nobody gave us any more grief than the endless litany of digs and insults hurled in our direction. They were making Yahg fairly angry and he looked like he was going to start a fight at any moment. I sat down with him and asked whether he would rather be alive and rich back home or more satisfied with himself here on the island before he inevitably ended up dead. He struggled for a while with the answer until he eventually admitted alive and rich was better. I told him he had reached the correct conclusion and told him he could get in as many fights as he wanted once we got back home. Thinking about that set him to rubbing his hands together with glee, but he didn’t try to brawl with any of the soldiers that night. That’s me. James the peacemaker.

Around the middle of the morning the next day, the soldiers who had been sent out to retrieve sulfur returned. Many of them were bearing obvious wounds but they were heavily laden with bags and even from here I could smell the rotten stench of what they contained.

I walked over to their leader. “Looks like you got into a fight,” I said.

“Yeah,” he replied. “We found the brimstone in a cave and the current occupants didn’t want us to have it.”

“Did you lose anyone?” I asked.

“No,” he replied, not at all touched by my apparent concern. Having his men stack the bags at my feet, he continued. “You best get to making your powder. The Captain is not known as an overly patient man.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I said. Then, Aleyda, Bowen and I carried the sacks over to where the rest of our black powder supplies were stored. We started the seemingly endless process of grinding ingredients. After we had enough ground, we started mixing samples.

While we worked, the Captain had come over to observe. He had another soldier with him, who was equipped with writing supplies, and he would narrate his observations to that soldier who would then write them down.

I started with a mixture of sixty percent guano, and twenty percent of each of the other two ingredients. My measurements were somewhat imprecise because we didn’t have a scale or anything formal to use to measure things. When we lit it, it burned but did not explode.

I thought back to what Bowen had said to me and started adjusting ratios. I increased the saltpeter content and decreased the sulfur by an equivalent amount. The reaction was a bit more energetic, but we still weren’t there yet.

Through the course of the day, I tried dozens of different formulations. It seemed like Bowen was correct. The most effective recipes requires a lot more bat shit and a lot less of the other ingredients. I kept track of the concoctions I had tried by carving them on a piece of wood.

“I still think you are using too much sulfur,” Bowen said.

“I think you are correct,” I replied.

Before too long, nobody wanted to be anywhere near our experiments. The ingredients themselves smelled nasty and as we refined the process and created more energetic explosions, nobody wanted to be blown up either.

It took us the rest of the day to get satisfactory results. Finally, I had increased the saltpeter to more than seventy percent of the total mixture and was using slightly less sulfur than charcoal. Our latest reaction was the best yet. The powder burned up quickly, almost instantly.

“I think we got it,” I told Bowen.

“I hope so,” he said. “My hands hurt so much from grinding.”

“Well, we have to grind some more,” I replied. “We need to scale things up and see if we can actually produce an explosion.”

We all took turns grinding ingredients. Looking at the stream, I briefly wondered about harnessing its energy to lessen the burden on our sore muscles and tendons but its not like I was Werner. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

Night had already fallen by the time we were ready for our test. We donated one of our waterskins for the cause and packed in with our newly made mixture. Then, I ran a long strip of cloth out of its neck and doused the beginning half of it with lamp oil. After lighting it on fire, I took off, running to safety. The cloth immediately flared over half its length. After the initial flare had subsided I noticed that the rest of the cloth was burning but not all that quickly. I watched the fire slowly creep up towards the neck. When it reached the neck, the powder inside ignited and a small fireball lit the night.

“I think we got it right,” I said, turning to Werner.

“If not right, close enough,” he replied.

The Captain had come walking over to us. “Fascinating!” he said. “What was your final ratio?”

Not feeling the need to hold anything back, I told him. Then, I begged for help.

“Grinding enough to fill that cask is going to take forever,” I said. “Could you assign some men to help?”

“If it will get it done tomorrow so we can get you on your way, I certainly can,” he replied.

The next day was spent mixing the ingredients and filling the cask. We put a tarp on the ground to contain our mixed powder and did things in batches. No two batches were mixed exactly the same but I hoped we had things close enough. It took all day for us to fill that cask. The Captain supplied a whole line of soldiers to do the grinding. When he wasn’t around, you should have heard the complaints.

I wasn’t very happy with my plan for a fuse. While they worked, I experimented with cloth and rope, trying to create something that ignited more predictably. Eventually, I settled on a design of a thin sheath of cloth with black powder at its core. At least it tended to burn at a predictable rate.

By the time night fell, we had filled the cask. It was not a small cask and the powder made it heavy. After I had driven the bung into the cask, sealing it, the Captain wandered over.

“You leave tomorrow morning?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “The sooner we get this done, the better.”

“When will you lead me to the people you want rescued?” he asked.

“When we get back,” I said. “I hope you like caves.” Inside, I chortled a little at the idea of him using lye soap to clean up after his indoctrination into the world of being covered with bat shit.

We had everything we needed for success. Now, it was time to see whether we had the skill to pull this whole stupid plan off.