Haggard was no blacksmith. Despite his favored weapon of choice, the drifter had little to no idea how smithing worked. The hammer he carried was just a memento, if anything, taken from a distant time and place. A time that he would rather not remember.

The workshop around him blazed with a heat that emanated from the furnace, the air around it shimmering with an intensity Haggard knew well. He stared at its open maw, recalling a small noise that echoed in his head like a faint chime.

ting

ting

ting

Haggard held back a shudder as he focused his attention on the dwarf before him. Rockford wasn't as grumpy as he wanted others to believe; he was just uncomfortable with people around his workplace. Haggard didn't blame him. Everything here was intentional, to the scattered hammers, piles of scrap, and seemingly bizarre tool placement. It all had a purpose, Haggard knew. He saw it in the way Rockford worked, every movement careful and precise. If just one thing was out of place…

Well, Haggard prayed for anyone who was brave enough to disturb the dwarf's organized chaos. While the blacksmith wasn't nearly as young or strong as Bjorn was, he was still a tough bastard. Haggard had seen it firsthand these past days.

He watched silently as Rockford finished up his work, his hand opening a window to let out some of the room's heat.

"Done?" Haggard asked.

"For now," Rockford responded with a sigh. The aged dwarf's face was glistening with sweat and soot, a result of an entire day's work. Still, he didn't seem to be too tired. If anything, he looked ready for another twelve hours of hard labor.

"How is progress?" Haggard said as he looked around the workshop. Despite the days that have passed, Rockford's area didn't seem all too crowded. In fact, now that he thought about it, the drifter failed to see any signs of their secret project.

"We moved it somewhere else," Rockford explained as he headed to a backroom. Haggard blinked, noting that the slim room was far too small for their ambitious workings. He followed the dwarf, curious as they both stepped in. The dwarf idly scratched his chin as he looked around the dimly lit backroom, the source of light being a pitiful spell crystal.

As he looked around, something BOOMED nearby. The wooden floor lurched in response to the loud, muffled noise, nearly sending Haggard tumbling. Rockford just ignored it, his hand feeling the wall. Haggard swiveled around in confusion. Did something explode out in the Silver District? No… no, that explosion came from below.

"Here we go," Rockford finally said, his hand smacking a switch at the side of the room. The floor at the end of the slim room then opened up, revealing a section underneath.

'Inside the platform itself,' Haggard realized.

"Here, put these on," Rockford mumbled as he handed Haggard some thick gloves and gambeson. After the drifter fitted them on, he was handed a padded hood and more gloves. These ones resembled thick mittens, the material similar to chainmail. Once those were on, the dwarf reached over and handed one last thing.

Haggard stared at the strange spectacles, which held tinted glass and were bordered by steel.

"Goggles," Rockford said from his muffled hood. He was fitting on the goggles. He looked utterly ridiculous in all the protection.

"Do we need this?" Haggard asked as he put them on, noting the muffs that fitted onto his ears.

"What?!" Rockford shouted in confusion.

"DO we need all this?!" Haggard shouted back, his own hearing becoming distant.

"Only on a good day," the dwarf replied with a shout. "On a bad day… Well, we're pretty much fucked then."

Haggard grimaced underneath his padded hood, his body stiff as it tried to move comfortably down the steps leading into the cellar. He followed Rockford down to a low-ceiling room that was surprisingly spacious. A long workbench lay before them, scrap and prototypes scattered across it as a small contingent of gnomes worked on them.

Haggard watched them work, a female gnome at their lead as she directed them and shouted. Underneath all that protection, he could recognize her.

"Hilda?" Haggard loudly said. Rockford nodded at that.

"Good work for her," the dwarf said. "I think it reminds her of the good times with Vinn, back when they worked on blast powder."

Haggard nodded slowly, his eyes squinting as he tried to make out what they were doing. Despite the bright spell crystals illuminating the cellar, the tinted goggles made it difficult to make out finer details.

"Two new workers?" Haggard asked as he watched the group of gnomes lug something heavy to the far side of the room. He noted how one-half of the cellar was unoccupied, piles of what looked like gravel lining the other end.

"Hilda hired them from the outer markets," Rockford explained. "She vouched for them."

Haggard grumbled at that. "Vouched or not, we need to be careful with who we let in here. The last thing we need is word getting out to the city guard."

"They work for us, no?" Rockford asked.

"Yes, but I doubt that means they'll just allow us to blow holes in platforms," Haggard said.

The dwarf shrugged at that. "We haven't done much damage to them. Nathan's protection runes and wards have kept it all in one piece so far."

"So far," Haggard emphasized under his breath, despite knowing full well that Rockford couldn't hear him through those damnable muffs. Once the group of hired gnomes set their metal contraption on a stand, Haggard decided to approach. They stopped once they saw him, their bodies stiffening as they watched him lumber over. A couple even shied away.

Yet Hilda stood with a confidence that Haggard hadn't seen before. Even through her padded face and spectacled eyes, the drifter could catch a hint of a small smile. He felt a pang of pride at seeing her so composed. Starting this project had given the grieving gnome something to do and keep busy with. Something that could keep her mind occupied enough. Hel, Haggard had heard that the artificer had gotten a full night's rest the other day.

"Hilda," Haggard said as he stopped before her. The gnome puffed her chest out a little, pride visible in her posture.

'She made a breakthrough,' Haggard guessed. 'Either that, or she fixed up that bracer from Aldren.'

Weeks ago, Seamus had brought over a mangled vambrace from Aldren. It was a curious thing, with an even stranger contraption attached to it. Haggard had no idea what it was, and neither did Rockford. Hilda had a hint of an idea, but she had told him she needed time to figure out its function.

"Sir Haggard," Hilda said loudly, her voice muffled. "I see you've come to see our progress?"

"I have."

"Good! I have been excited to show you this!" Hilda chirped as she waved for one of the gnomes. They quickly scampered to the long bench, picking through prototypes and scrap metal. They came back with a small box, opened to reveal two distinct devices.

Haggard had called them wands, but they were more akin to short nubbed cudgels, with their strange grips and short lengths. It reminded him of those dueling canes the nobility carried back in Norum and other Lumen-controlled cities.

Hilda picked one of the gunnes—as James and Rockford had called it—the thick steel barrel short enough to fit in Haggard's hand. Yet it looked like a stump in the gnome's hand. She held it with two hands, showcasing it to the drifter.

"This is the first prototype. Jarl Holter called it a 'flintlock' and described its process to me. It has such an interesting mechanism… despite our Jarl's crude craftsmanship," Hilda said with a nervous laugh. "Anyway, it suffered from a lot of imperfections, like barrel length and lack of grip stability. Also, the flint mechanism…"

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She droned on about some things Haggard didn't understand, her finger pointing at key points on the gunne.

"Anyway, I managed to improve the design a little here," Hilda finished as she placed the bulky thing in the case. She then took out the second prototype, which was a lot more slender and longer. Haggard watched as Hilda showed it off, the gnome eventually showing him the end of the barrel, which was lined with strange ridges.

"It has a couple extra parts to improve the mechanism Jarl Holter designed," Hilda explained. She cocked the mechanism's lock back, which made a small click. Haggard felt a part of him squirm deep within.

'If that's anything like a rune…'

He stepped to the side, away from the barrel's end.

"I also managed to fix up its accuracy," Hilda added.

"Accuracy?" Haggard asked. "Straight barrel means it shoots straight, no?"

Hilda laughed at that, like he told a funny joke.

"No, not at all," she explained. "In fact, you see, when I was testing the first prototype, I noticed that the effective range was as close as five paces! Longleg paces, of course."

Haggard blinked at that. That short of a range? At that point, you might as well use a sword.

"And, even in that range, the projectile could barely pierce through plate armor. It was even deflected by a basic cuirass."

"What? Seriously?" Haggard was shocked.

"Yes!" Hilda nodded furiously, yet there was a tinge of excitement. "You see, I came to an epiphany during testing. Jarl Holter told me once that these gunnes had once dominated the battlefields of his world when it was introduced. Pierced basic armor and gambeson. However, what we both failed to realize was that his world never had magic."

Haggard blinked at that, and something clicked. "Caelus' balls…"

Castings. All around Azura, for hundreds of years, people had access to Arcane Bolts and Power Shots. Magically enhanced projectiles forced people to change the way armor was forged. While normal steel could only go so far, certain pieces of armor were made with the intention of deflecting and redirecting powerful projectiles like bolts or enhanced arrows. Enchantments bolstered that by twofold, making it difficult for archers and magicians alike. This gunne, as advanced as it seemed, was no better at ranged combat than the average archer and mage.

"But I fixed it," Hilda said with excitement. She raised the second prototype in front of Haggard and proceeded to break it in half. He flinched, sure of himself that he saw the gnome tear steel apart with ease. Yet that thought disappeared when he saw the hinges.

"I found that the ball ammo was making it inaccurate, so I fixed it," Hilda said. "By making my own custom projectiles that could actually shoot straight. Then I fiddled with the barrel's inside and got rid of the smooth bore since that was also messing with accuracy."

'In only mere days, you've managed to do this?' Haggard thought, watching Hilda pull off her outer gloves, leaving her fingers free to move. She then grabbed a distinct piece of iron from the box, the object slightly bigger than her thumb. She loaded the small piece within the chamber inside the gunne's open mechanism and shut it close. Hilda fiddled with the lock and hammer before she pointed the barrel's end at the other end of the room where the piles of gravel were.

After a couple of seconds, a loud BANG sounded out. Ringing accompanied it—despite Haggard's ear muffs—and he watched something rip through the air and strike the gravel. Hilda damn nearly toppled over from the demonstration, her feet skidding and her hands raising the gunne high above her head as she grinned widely.

"Get the armor!" she shouted at her group, and they all moved. As they did so, Haggard looked back at Rockford, who was also smiling underneath his protections. The dwarf sauntered up and nodded toward the gunne in Hilda's hand.

They said nothing as the gnomes placed a set of dented plate armor before Hilda. Haggard watched as she broke the weapon open and loaded in one more of the iron balls within. She shut it closed and aimed once more. The armor set was clearly ten paces away, far out of the first prototype's range.

Hilda aimed for a moment, hands steady. Her body visibly took a deep breath and went still. Another loud BANG echoed, and Haggard watched as the projectile struck the steel breastplate, instantly warping it and punching in the blink of an eye. It struck the gravel behind it, leaving a smoking hole in the armor that twisted into a spiral.

The gnomes cheered on Hilda, who ejected the spent round out of her gunne. She looked over at Haggard, who gave an approving nod.

"Arm our soldiers with thirty of these, and we'll be unstoppable," Haggard said to Rockford. "No need for training with bows or magic. Hel, this could be as revolutionary as the first rune."

The dwarf cringed at that. "Yeah, it would be. If it weren't for the expensive ammo, materials, and the five gnomes we have employed. You do know that those projectiles are roughly worth a valdora each? Don't even get me started on how many prototypes Hilda went through."

Haggard blinked, and a sudden sense of dread overcame him. "Shit. How are our funds?"

"We're barely scraping by," Rockford admitted. "We're technically now on Nathan's personal coffers right now. Thank Horus, that man was an adventurer in the past."

"He's funding this?" Haggard asked, confused.

"Of course. Sure, he technically doesn't want to send men to Yorktown, but he's willing to explore our options," Rockford explained. "Even expensive options such as this."

Once Hilda was finished placing the prototype away, she hurried over to Haggard. She was practically beaming at him, clearly proud of her work. Haggard hid his worries and placed a smile on his lips. He was good at that, hiding his inner turmoil with laughs and positivity. It helped not to spread negativity amongst his friends and colleagues.

"Good work," he said to Hilda. "Perhaps in time, we can come up with something that could help the clan on a grander scale. For now, however, I want to know if there's anything that could be of use soon."

He made sure to emphasize the importance of their situation, for time was not on their side. Yorktown was in danger, and Haggard had a duty to make sure those orc bastards didn't raze it all.

'Dammit all, I'm starting to think like Helen of all people.'

That woman had changed Haggard for the worst, he knew. As he mentally contemplated that, he noted Hilda's reaction to his words. She restrained her smile and nodded with a curt professionalism that she surely got from Wheaton.

"Of course. Follow me."

Haggard trailed behind Hilda, who led him to the long piece of black metal the gnomes were handling earlier.

"When we were experimenting with the blast powder Nathan got us, we had an idea for something that could be used on a bigger scale than just interpersonal combat," Hilda explained as she tapped the large slag of metal. Haggard looked at it, eyebrow raising. Now that he was closer, he could see that it was, in fact, a large barrel.

"So we came up with this, another idea that we found in Jarl Holter's scribblings," Hilda explained. She dug underneath her gambeson and produced a folded piece of parchment. She carefully opened it, revealing messy handwriting and sketches. Among them were designs that faintly resembled the large barrel Haggard was looking at.

"Cannon," Hilda said. "It is a cannon, commonly used for sieges or naval combat back in Jarl Holter's world."

Haggard slowly nodded, amazed. "So it's a bigger version of the gunne?"

Hilda nodded. "It fires a large steel ball, said to rip through ships like paper. Not like a Fireball, which only damages the outside of a hull."

"It also can't be deflected by protection wards," Haggard muttered. "If it flies anywhere near as fast as the normal gunne, then it'll be enough to break them like nothing."

Ideas swarmed his mind, tactics, and applications. This could also change everything.

"There is one problem, however," Hilda said with a sigh. "The powder charge."

Haggard cursed internally. He had forgotten about that. "Not much left?"

"Only enough to fire this cannon once," Hilda explained. "At least, according to the math I've done. Either way, there is still the chance that this thing's accuracy will be off if the smooth bore prototype is to be considered."

"Ah, christ," Haggard cursed, taking a note from James unintentionally. He had no idea what the word meant or its significance, but he liked it nonetheless. "So we have nothing."

Hilda gave a solemn nod. "I… I could make more ammunition for the second prototype with the rest of our powder, but…"

"I doubt it'd work well against an armada of orcs," Rockford said. "Even if Haggard managed to get close enough."

Haggard was silent as he placed a hand on the cannon, brow furrowed as he stewed deep within. They were so close to finding a solution to their problem. They were so close to procuring a weapon that could win them this siege.

'Perhaps we should've poured our efforts into looking for James.'

Haggard had doubts they'd find the Jarl initially since he disappeared off the face of Valenfrost not long after his supposed meeting with Ivan Falk. Rumors spoke that James was dead, that his ship was looted and taken as a trophy by the Jarl of the Hawk Clan. Haggard called bullshit on that and was certain that James was still alive and kicking. He knew full well that the man was unkillable. Hel, he doubted a point-blank Fireball would finish the determined Outlander off.

Something clicked within Haggard's mind. He turned to Rockford and Hilda so quickly that he startled them.

"Where is Nathan?" he asked.

"Raven Keep," Rockford said with confusion. "You know this, no?'

"Of course," Haggard said with a padded facepalm. He quickly pushed past the two, heading straight for the stairs.

"Wait!" Hilda called out. "Why are you going to him? You're not going to ask for more powder, are you? I've already tried yesterday, he already gave us all he could extort out of the Magistars in Haven!"

"I'm not going to ask for powder," Haggard said with a grin. "I have a different idea for our charge. Something much more… natural."

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