Isekai’d Shoggoth - Chapter 108: Shoot Some Guns

Chapter 108: Shoot Some Guns

The attendance in the yard is as thus. Abe and his three sons, which I expected. Jeannette-Thereze, which I did not expect. Malachi, Pasteur and Buonaparte, which I expected. Moon Unit, which I did not expect. The rest stayed behind where the TV is alternating between playing music with visualizer and showing Loony Tunes shorts. I might have had more takers for the firearm demo if not for the cartoons, I suppose.

“Alright. Let’s begin, then. I have a number of possible firearms to show you, however…” – I begin, as everyone settles down on the chairs under the awning. No reason to make people stand when there are comforts just a few steps away, innit?

“I would like to stress to everyone that what I AM showing you right now is just prototypes. Proofs of concept. The basics. Once you grasp those, I will outline what I am doing to improve on the things and how soon it could be expected.” – I explain – “So, with that in mind, don’t bother trying to work out if you want to adopt the things into service and how much it would cost, I have better stuff lined up that will become available before your order even can be fulfilled.”

This is met with some muttering, but no one raises an objection. So I begin with the flintlock pistols. Showing the reloading in detail first off. Then aiming and firing. I had servants place a crate of pumpkins nearby, they make viscerally enjoyable targets.

“So… Who wants to try?” – I offer, as I lay out pistols on the table. In the end, turns out everyone does. I’m a little surprised Moon Unit is so enthusiastic about it, but if it makes her happy, I’m more than fine with it.

“This is quite impressive.” – Buonaparte offers after a few shots – “Even if you did not have anything better in mind, I’d buy a number of those guns and issue them to my officers. No magic involved means it’s a perfect counter to those damnable batal whenever they make an appearance. Putting them down quickly would discourage oijans right there and then.”

Abe raises his brow. “Brigadier, you’d want to arm condotierri leaders with this?” – he quips.

Napulione smirks – “Sure, why not? Without the gun cotton, those firearms are just fancy mechanisms, and I would not hand out more cotton per person than maybe enough for a dozen shots. Having their fancy ace in the hole supplied would make them even more loyal, I would say.”

“Devious.” – Abraham admits after a moment of consideration – “We might consider this idea in more detail once we figure out what we would want supplied. I mean, we just were told that there’s more than just these, no?”

Both of them turn to me. I sigh.

“Fair enough.” – I offer with a smile, as I pull open the long crate. Musket draws a lot of attention, especially when I socket bayonet on it.

“This is a musket, and it is the prototype of the weapon intended for common footsoldiers.” – I explain, noting the sharp peak of interest from Buonaparte – “The rough idea for use is to have soldiers form several rows. The front row is keeping their bayonets pointed out as a pike wall and shoots. Back row reloads. Once the reload is done, the back row takes two steps forward and becomes the front row, letting the former first row reload. More staggering is possible, for example having the first row take a knee, and the second row shoots over their heads, while the third and fourth are reloading. The exact workings of this, well… I’m sure brigadier Buonaparte would work out suitable formations in short order once he is familiar with the basics, isn’t it so?”

“It does pose a very intriguing problem, yes.” – he offers with a glint in his eye and calculating expression – “If I had the luxury of picking my battlefield and arriving to it first, then I believe those, ah.. muskets? Would be devastating against a charging enemy. It would probably take cavalry to ride through the volleys without a complete rout. Worse yet, if all of the soldiers in line were to fire at once… I can easily foresee the enemy breaking just from the effect of the first volley. Unlike arrows that arrive from above, that one would scythe just the first ranks, where the most courageous and experienced soldiers are. That would be a lot worse on morale than arrows. Cavalry would face horrible attrition from those as well, especially if the order is to aim at the horses.”

I show that the musket is working on the same principles by reloading and firing it a few times. “One advantage a musket has over a pistol is the fact that it shoots much further and more accurately.” – I explain – “Pistols are good at maybe, hm… twenty touse, give or take. Past that, while it would still cause a wound, landing an accurate shot becomes more of a gamble than skill. Musket can reliably hit a target at fifty touse, and with some training and practice with a specific musket, I imagine a diligent shooter would be able to guarantee an aimed shot at twice the distance. Volley firing would be effective for much further, owing to the saturation of projectiles. Like, say… two hundred touse, maybe two-fifty…”

“So… One arpent for a trained soldier, two arpent for veteran, five arpent for a regiment firing in a volley, give or take?” – Buonaparte sums it up – “I’ve heard of Albish longbowmen regimens that offer the same performance with their bows. The usual archer falls short of that by about a third, if not full half. But given what I have seen so far, training people on these muskets will not be quite as long or talent-demanding as handling of a longbow.”

Passing the muskets around so people can try them out takes a bit of time, and gives me a bit of time to prepare the next showpiece. Bombard is complicated. I only have one, and I’m probably not going to just pass it around. Flubbing a shot would, at worst, result in some embarrassment and a hole in the wall or flowerbed. Flubbing a bomb would rather convincingly wipe out our whole demonstration with the exception of me, unless I react in time and contain it somehow or manage to fling it away before it goes off. So… Not gonna mess around on this one.

“Right. This next piece is DANGEROUS.” – I emphasize – “I only have ONE, and I am not going to pass it around for casual firing. You will see why in a moment.”

The faces when the bomb goes off are very pleasing to my ego, I admit. The whole round-eyed “oh shit” thing is ever so pleasing.

“This is bombard. It shoots a bomb.” – I proffer – “A bomb is a hollow iron sphere filled with guncotton. It also has a length of slowmatch coiled around the charge. There are two ways to use this. Unshielded is simply launching it. That way, the simple fire enchantment inscribed on the inner surface goes off when it impacts something. Another way is to tap this lever before shooting, it disables the impact-triggered enchant and instead lights up the slowmatch.” This time the bomb falls on the ground and sits there ominously for three seconds before exploding.

“…And if you were to shoot this bombard into a loophole, the bomb with burning slowmatch would tumble down to the base of the fortification and damage the whole structure, possibly even make a hole or collapse a part of the wall….” – Malachi muses rasply – “This is of interest to Inquisition as well, now. There are certain problematic infestations that favor narrow passages into their lairs. We usually deal with those by shooting arrows with lit oil rags into them or rolling stones with same when it’s below ground… Well, that and magic, obviously, but all of the methods are finicky and tricky to achieve properly without disgorging a swarm in process. Lobbing in the bomb that would just squash the majority of a hive in one go would definitely be welcome. Say, could the bomb be altered to maybe explode less, but burn more?”

Interesting question, actually. I pick up the bomb, and carefully slice it in halves. Leaving one half full of guncotton, I fill the other one with conjured phosphorus, snap the halves back together and seal the lid with a dollop of conjured acryl. Everyone is backing away while I do this. I wonder why. I’m not going to set it off like this. Loading and firing… Ah, that looks neat. Burning phosphorus particles are like tiny meteors, leaving behind clouds of smoke as they spread around.

“I think it’s doable, sir Malachi.” – I proffer in the lull that occurs – “At half the guncotton, the explosion is just strong enough to burst the case, and the remainder of space could be filled up with purified phosphorus.”

“Ahem. That is impressive and intriguing, lady Gillespie, but what IS this phosphorus you are talking about?” – he requests – “It is certainly a grand agent of arson, that much I can tell you already, but I’ve never heard of such substance before.”

Fuck. Wait, no, I’m pretty sure alchemists at least know this one. “A certain substance that can be obtained from particular minerals via alchemy. It is notoriously prone to bursting into the fire, so only a rare alchemist dares to put up with the hazards of making it. It can be contained, albeit with some rather stringent precautions.” – I explain – “It is not really used in Champagne for much of anything, but I believe that Pharos Empire does use it as a part of their infamous incendiary mix.”

“You know the composition of Pharos Flame?!” – Alexander yelps suddenly – “…Gods above, is there any secret you’re not privy to?”

“Erm… your excellency, you are jumping to conclusions. I strongly suspect that phosphorus is one of the components of that mix, as well as assorted oils and tars and possibly coal dust, but I never claimed to know how exactly they make it. Pharos Empire is rather insistent on not letting any foreigners in on that particular know-how.” – I retort – “I can give you my notes on incendiary mixes later, if you are interested in pursuing the topic. I’m not. I’ve perused the reports, and I don’t find it to be that great of a weapon.”

He subsides with an odd crooked smile. “The implication being that you already have something better in mind, I presume.” – he proffers – “Alright then. Bedazzle us with new and wondrous ways to cause death and destruction, lady Gillespie.”

I shrug. “Bombard was actually the last of firearms I was intending to show.” – I tell him – “This is the assortment that dwarves had produced to test the ideas I have given them and to build upon iteratively. I can show you some of the further developments of the idea, but you will have to put up with me not having any samples you could take back with you.”

“Erm… Pardon me, lady Gillespie, but did you just imply you intend to gift us those firearms?” – Alexander’s wife pipes up suddenly.

“Uh… yes? The whole point of bringing so many here was so that I could present a decent sized sample for consideration and initial familiarization. The idea being that by the time I’m ready with versions I deem improved enough to offer up for mass production, the most trusted knights of his highness’ personal retinue would already have some grounding on how to handle firearms safely.” – I reply. I mean, it’s fucking obvious, I want people to have something to muck around with that’s a little fussy to prepare, to begin with.

“There is a crate of pistols with two dozens of them, a crate of muskets containing a dozen, a barrel of guncotton and a sack of lead wads in total.” – I explain – “I’m not including bombard in this, it’s much more finicky to handle. A few samples of those with bomb supply will be delivered separately a few weeks later, once dwarves put them together. I’m thinking three bombards and a gross of bombs for training.”

Men exchange glances. “That… is a little more than we expected.” – Abe hedges cautiously then – “Though if your goal is to ensure we have enough to give men some basic training, I understand the reasoning. Now then, you promised to show us something more advanced?”

“Uh-huh. Let me start off by asking all of you to back off. I will be conjuring a big amount of molten iron and it’s not going to be pleasant to be nearby.” – I explain absentmindedly, as I start doing just that, letting it pour into telekinetic form. Early cannons are pretty fun, and while I initially did not intend on introducing the concept until much later, I find the idea of making Napuleone an artillerist again to be wildly hilarious. Now, I need to… Ah, why not? I don’t bother conjuring the timber for the mount. Instead, I just use earth magic to form rudimentary support for the cannon. Speaking of which… shape good, cooling now. Phew, that was… intense. I really need to look into how I do this, the ability to just force the atomic grid into the desired shape while leaching excess energy is bullshit beyond compare.

“Behold, gentlemen and ladies. Cannon. The logical continuation of the idea.” – I announce grandly as I stuff a handful of guncotton into it. Oughta be just enough. Now, ram it in… And now, I need to make a cannonball… Easy-peasy. And ram it in again.

“…If that is what I think it is…” – Buonaparte muses slowly, as he inches closer – “Milady, are you SURE about it? What you are making looks to me like it is to a musket like what a ballista is to a crossbow, and I am somewhat worried you might actually destroy a part of your mansion like this.”

He blinks and chuckles as at my gesture a pile of rock slabs arranged like a sea conch arches out of the ground, angle designed to deflect the cannonball downwards. “I stand corrected, you have it well in hand.” – he proffers as he retreats back.

“Everyone, you might want to plug your ears.” – I tell them as I lift a stick of iron and focus some fire magic on the tip, heating it until it’s glowing red. BOOM!… Well. Crap. I underestimated things lightly. I mean, the cannonball itself did get deflected into the ground alright, but the back part of the shell spalls out and collapses in a cloud of dust, revealing a pile of rubble and the shell split nearly in two, with a huge gash in the middle. Thankfully, the space behind it was sufficiently empty that only a couple gravel shards reached the back fence.

In accordance with my earlier remonstrations, I make a hole in the ground and stick the cannon into it vertically barrel-down before doing anything else. Then, I let everyone come up and examine the ruined stone.

“You do realize this weapon renders the majority of existing fortifications obsolete, right?” – Buonaparte remarks, as he runs his hand over the crumbling edge – “Good gods, a few of those cannons would batter down just about any wall within a day.”

“Interested, brigadier?” – I quip at him.

“Oh, definitely.” – he retorts – “A couple demonstrations like these, and there would be so much less belligerence across the southern coast.”

“Well, there is an alternative method for using the cannon, you know?” – I suggest. It apparently catches everyone’s interest enough to demand an immediate demonstration.

This time, instead of a cannonball, I conjure a bag of grapeshot, and instead of a stone shell, I put down a bunch of logs roughly human height and a stone backstop.

“Antifortification is important, of course, but cannon is also good in the field.” – I suggest as I light up the touchhole again. The cone of destruction is impressive. in the axis, the logs are simply uprooted and shredded. Along the sides, they are just shredded. There is a very clear trapeze of ruin cut into the log formation now.

“Grapeshot.” – I offer in the ensuing silence – “In the event of an enemy advancing in close formation, cannon excels at causing massive damage at once. The impact on morale from landing such a shot would be considerable, I presume. Also, this method is suitable for fending off ships – shredding the sails deprives ships of their mobility, leaving them stuck in the water to be leisurely shot by cannonballs from well beyond the best archer’s reach.”

“You are making the war a truly horrifying business, lady Gillespie.” – sir Pasteur offers slowly – “To what end, I wonder, such brutal means are needed?”

“To make the war so awful no one in their right mind entertains the notions of it as anything but a move of desperation, sir Pasteur.” – I tell him.