“Uiroliuu sends his complements”

The room fell into a long tense silence, and Benjamin was acutely aware of the Vilora’s and Jukha’s absence. He found his left hand slowly drifting down toward his pistol belt, barely able to halt the reaction screaming through his body ‘Uiroliuu, the customs agent?’. The captain held his gaze until Benjamin very slowly forced his hand back to his plate, one tightly coiled muscle at a time. “To answer your… undeniable questions. I was Uiroliuu’s youngest junior officer…. He and I were standing mere feet apart when his second was killed. We saw all the same things, heard the same screams, smelled the same horrors.” Olioorin slowly parted his tunic, revealing a deep scar that still refused to grow hair. “We bear many of the same scars.”

Benjamin finally found his voice, “But the rest, how do you know about my… There is no way the Queen Mother would have revealed that to the ‘Lord Regent’.” Olioorin stabbed a morstle from his own plate. “You were watched, in Medina’s Pass. You were attacked. I do not know the details, but I was told to check your neck for a red wound only a H’mure could have. Luckily for you. Uiroliuu has conversed with the Queen mother. She left him a personal letter describing the situation, and due to your…. Careful… transport to the capital. His correspondence reached me before you did. It was a near thing. I will not claim to understand how you can bleed crimson, yet not be of that abominable race, but I trust the Sea Master with my life.”

“If the Lord Regent told you about the attack then he had scouts in the pass… He knew about the Necromancer.” Viola spoke for the first time, finally beginning to eat her food, but Benjamin raised an eyebrow at Olioorins reaction, “A Necromancer? There have not been any recorded Necromancers since….” Benjamin sighed, “Our attacker was H’mure… If the Regent knew about him….”. Olioorin let out a trilling whistle, “I was not told. This news is… disturbing.” He set his food down and leaned back in his chair, “This, changes things… If the Lord Regent knew about the abomination roaming the pass, it sets a sinister gale against our voyage.” Benjamin felt a deep unsettling darkness sink deep into his gut, and he stared down at his largely untouched food, “My Ben” Valtrya laid a hand on his arm, but Benjamin only shook himself and smiled down her, “I’m ok, but this is not the news I was expecting.”

The Aquilar captain sucked in a huge breath of air, “A problem for tomorrow. Eat! Before it gets cold, and tell me of your journey. Let us trade tall tales and fairer memories this evening.” With that, their conversation meandered into other topics. Viola described their meeting, and the fight with their former master, and Valtrya tried not to giggle at how uncomfortable Ben became during the story. Olioorin responded in kind, speaking of his command, where they were headed, and what sailing the wide archipelago that stretched out from the shore of the mainland truly entailed. Soon the food was consumed, and drinks were offered. The table was cleared and the 4 retired to a set of simple but comfortable furniture residing next to the stern windows of Olioorin’s vessel.

Benjamin sat near one of the windows, noticing an almost exact duplicate of their vessel in a small model bolted onto its sill, “It is beginning to make sense to me. Your people spend so much time in sheltered waters, it makes sense for you to retain the Longship design for your vessels.” He paused as he noticed a small detail. His eyes narrowed as he recognized an almost exact duplicate of a Roman Ballista mounted to the bow deck of the model. “Captain, Uiroliuu had an iron ball in his possession… one he claimed that He discovered diving on the wreck of his vessel. Tell me, what are your vessels ship-to-ship defenses.”

Olioorin raised a bushy eyebrow, “Very little. Our battle doctrine has us close under fire of Harpoon Gun and crossbow until we board the other vessel, or they board us. It is exceedingly rare for a ship to be sunk or defeated from a distance.” The Aquilar captain leaned in from his chair, “He told you more than I suspected. Benjamin, these are hard memories. I trust you do not bring them afore without purpose.” Pain flashed across the Captain’s face, remembering fallen comrades.

“I…” Benjamin paused, ‘Is this the right time… this is one bottle I cannot cap once opened’. Then, another memory struck him.. the absence of the armory Seargent upon their initial departure… He looked at Vi, who was watching him intently from her own comfortable chair. ‘fuck’ Straightening his back, he turned his attention back to Olioorin, “Captain, I fear that I may know how your vessel died… but understand me. If I give you this knowledge, it will accompany a terrible burden.” Benjamin held Olioorin’s gaze until the Captain slowly nodded. “Very well.” Benjamin began, “I believe the fire breathing monster that killed your Uiroliuu’s first officer… is called a cannon….”

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Benjamin stood on the shores of a picturesque Island in the middle of absolute silent solitude. The revelation of “the cannon” had been almost too much for Olioorin to understand, but the Captain had sworn to keep an open mind. The product of that open mind was before him now. It had taken over a month for them to reach a small port town, where they had paid handsomely for not only the local forgemaster's entire supply of Iron, Sulfur, Salt Peter, and Charcoal; but also, his entire supply of what Benjamin’s native tongue would call copper, and zinc. Benjamin had traded his knowledge of steel for a majority of the raw materials, playing to the man’s thirst for innovation. It had then taken them another full month to sail to their current location.

It took another full week for the grumbling crew to fell the trees needed to build the Carriages to Benjamin’s drawings. Now Benjamin stood in front of four Naval gun carriages, a bit smaller than Benjamin wanted, but they would do nicely. Next to them was piled the entire stockpile of copper and zinc ingot, and no less than 6 separate bonfires were raging about the clearing. The bonfires had been the hardest sell, especially since their mission was supposed to be secretive. Olioorin had finally relented and now all eyes were upon Benjamin.

The Aquilar captain raised an eyebrow as Vi and Val both tightly buttoned up their parka’s. They were much further south than the Capital, and the weather was beginning to warm nicely, “Are you Ill?”

“No. My thanks, but it is about to get very cold,” Viola answered. Val only smiled up at him, “It is… time.” Olioorin snorted his amusement, only to freeze as the vapor in his breath condensed. Then he felt it, sudden biting cold, and spun to look at Benjamin. Ben was sitting with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees. He was never a big fan of meditation, but this was going to require a great deal of concentration to do all at once. The crew gasped as the 6 bonfires flickered and died almost instantly. The red-hot coals were quickly being rendered touch-safe before frosting over completely as the air temperature itself plummeted.

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Ben could not feel the cold. He was already tightly bundled in all of his winter clothing. ‘not enough’ the thought flickered through his mind. It was the one rule that he found that he could not break. Energy truly could not be created nor destroyed, no matter how easily he could manipulate the existing energy in his surroundings as of late. He did the only thing he could, be reached deeper. He could feel the heat sources of his observers, but that would prove a murderous choice, so he reached for the land and sea ignoring the gasps from all around him.

Olioorin took two full steps back as the ground beneath his feet flash-froze solid. The instant permafrost visibly crawled across the ground like a hungry demon until it reached the shoreline. Waves froze in place, and a thick sheet of ice began creeping out toward where his prized vessel lay to her anchor. He took a deep Shakey breath, ignoring the burning in his lungs, and the fact that his exhale hung in the air, turned instantly into a cloud of ice and snow. Shouts of confusion and alarm began to echo throught clearning, but he felt a small hand on his arm. “Trust, my Benjamin…. Please.” It was Valtrya, her eyebrows slowly crusting over with ice as she peeked from her tightly bound parka hood. Olioorin raised an eyebrow, regarding the largely silent woman with a conflicted expression, “MEN! HOLD FAST!” he barked finally. “LOOK!!!” Came a reply, and he snapped his head back to the clearing.

‘That should be enough’ Benjamin was holding an enormous amount of energy in his possession, forcing it into the materials in front of him until everything began to glow into its various molten states. Benjamin locked his mind on the finished product. The copper and zinc began to mix under his command, blending smoothly into a homogenous bronze tube that he molded into a familiar shape from his antiquity. ‘The napoleon’ he murmured under his breath, slowly ripping the heat from the four bronze cannon barrels and resting them upon gun carriages designed for them. They would end up being significantly smaller than the 12lb Nepoleon style cannon used during the golden age of French muzzle-loading artillery. These gun tubes would fire a solid shot that weighed 8 pounds instead of 12. It was a forced concession as Benjamin was forced to manipulate his design to his limited supply of materials. There would be no fancy quill primer, and he made sure to adjust his touchhole design accordingly. With the heat he repatriated from the cannon barrels, Benjamin melted the large pile of iron ingots. Their ammunition would be limited to 50 solid round iron balls per gun, but that was because a single, round projectile was not all he planned on making. He focused on making as many smaller round projectiles as possible with the rest of the iron on hand. Slowly, a strained smile spread across his lips, even as large beads of sweat formed on his forehead. With care, he fixed his mind on his new target.

The frozen hell seemed like it lasted an eternity, but Olioorin’s rational mind realized that it had been merely half of an hour since this… Benjamin had started. He had been told this creature was blessed, but this was something else entirely. No being had recorded this level of ability in generations. And then, it was over. Benjamin stood, wavering slightly as he did so. Both of his women immediately bolted to his side, making it halfway to him before, “STOP!” His explosive exclamation froze all in place, and Olioorin finally noticed why. It was the slightest shimmer of a warning that told him that This man was holding back a level of power that made it dangerous to simply approach him.

Benjamin slowly held out his arms, palms down. He had pulled the energy from the now complete items in front of him. Now, surrounding himself, was pure thermal energy of a volume that he was only just able to insulate himself from. Slowly and steadily, he eased the energy back into his surroundings. He began with the ground and the ocean before moving on to the land and the atmosphere. Finally, he concentrated the last of the energy, what he had taken from the raging bonfires, into both of his palms, quickly converting the air around them into a burning ball of plasma. With a flick he lit the six ice-cold half-burned piles of timber, spreading the energy out evenly as to not cause any unintended damage. The last of the energy bled from his fingertips just as the last of his own strength and concentration bled from his body, and he fell to one knee. “Its…. Done… Safe… now…” he called out, his voice croaking from a dry throat mixed with exhaustion.

Val and Vi were at his side moments later, “Sorry… too… dangerous… too much… energy at play…” He rasped, taking Val’s offered canteen and drinking greedily. “Thanks.” Val and Vi helped him up just as Olioorin reached them, “That was… impressive, but I fail to understand how a brass battering ram is going to give us the edge on the fire-breathing monster you told me about.” Benjamin nodded, “Then I guess a demonstration is in order. Val, bring the bags. Vi, brace the carriages, I don’t want them moving too much.” Benjamin walked over to a pair of oddly shaped wooden shafts with an iron corkscrew on one end, and a massive cotton pad on the other. He picked one up and began, “These, Captain, are the monsters that you faced all those years ago.. or at least a version of them. From your and Uiroliuu’s recount, I suspect it was paired with St Elmo’s Fire, but I cannot be sure.” He and the Captain turned just as Val returned with a cylindrical cotton bag filled with a strange black substance that stank to high heaven. Olioorin watched as Benjamin slipped the bag into the muzzle, using the cotton pad side of the large pole to push it all the way to the other end of the tube. Vi returned, having secured the carriage with large rocks to prevent its rolling. She was holding a single 8 pound sphere of iron, that Benjamin set into the tube and again pushed it down against the bag at the other end. “First lesson, never let the gunpowder get wet. If it does, it will be useless until it dries fully again. But, when dry, Gunpowder can be both dangerous and effective in both destroying things… and throwing them.” With that, Benjamin pulled a small powder horn from Val’s pack and poured some of his leftover musket powder down the flash hole until it barely filled to the top. “CLEAR ‘WAY THE GUN!” Benjamin bellowed, causing so many to step back out of pure surprise. “This, is slow match,” He said, pulling out an oddly discolored chord, “It is made the same way you make your fire arrows.” He drew a small portion of thermal energy from the bonfires and lit the end. With that, he wound it around a small stick. Using the stick to create a semi-safe distance, he blew on the end of the chord until it glowed, and touched it to the small powder filled hole on top of the strange brass tube.

The only warning Captain Olioorin had of what was coming, was the small puff of black that chuffed out of the hole atop the back of this “cannon” as the fine powder lit. less than a second later, hell itself bellowed forth from the open end of the brass tube. An 8 foot mushroom of red flaming fury and white acrid smoke erupted from the far end of the “cannon” followed by a deafening roar of what he could only describe as thunder, but… enraged, somehow. The cannon had been pointed out to sea, off to the east of where his ship was anchored, and his eyes widened when the smoke cleared just in time for him to see a splash almost two-thirds again farther than his vessel's distance from shore.

When he turned back to the cannon, he noticed Benjamin dipping the cotton end of his staff into a bucket of water. “Always sponge the bore between shots. If you do not and there are any cotton embers left behind, they will set off the powder before you are done ramming the bag home. This, is a ramrod. Keep the sponge damp.” He slipped the wet sponge into the tube and the water hissed as he ran it in and out 3 times. “That was a round shot. I have one other type of ammunition to show you.” He stuck a second bag of powder into the cannon, then took an empty bag and stuffed 9 smaller balls into the bag and tied it tightly before putting it down the tube as well. “This, is known as ‘Grape shot’” He stated, stabbing down the small hole with a small metal rod before pouring more of his finer powder into the hole on top, “This is the touch hole, use the metal stick to poke a hole in the powder bag. It lets the fine grain powder connect the main charge for firing….. CLEAR!” The call of clear was irrelevant, as no one dared come close to the monster crouching next to Benjamin. Ben touched the slow match to the hole, and the hellish fire breathing event repeated itself. This time, Benjamin ripped the smoke from the air so all could see the results.. The 9 smaller balls spread out in a cone peppering the water all the way out well past the distance that their vessel was anchored. Benjamin dropped the slow match, stomping it out fully before turning to Olioorin, “I pray we do not need this, but if what I fear is true… These may save our lives, and your vessel. I’ll write up an exact training evolution for you by the morning…”

With that, Benjamin simply walked off… leaving Olioorin alone with the monster that even he realized, just changed the face of salt-born warfare…. Forever.