Chapter 371 - 365 — Something That Moves

The Blood Forge, beneath the Ashen Reach — Demon Continent

The Warhound turret arrived two mornings later on an iron hauling sled that left deep grooves through the ash outside the workshop.

Gruzzik watched the hauling demons bring it beneath the lifting chains while drevik guided them between the workbenches, keeping the cannon clear of the furnace pillar.

"I asked for a turning assembly," he said.

Drevik climbed down from the hauling platform.

"This one was waiting to be fitted to a hull. I thought you should see what the mechanism normally it carries."

Gruzzik ran a claw across the thick armor.

"You could have brought a drawing."

"You would have asked to see the parts either way."

That was difficult to dispute.

Drevik waved the haulers away. "Clear the platform."

One squat demon shuffled to the opposite side and stood there, its tail dragging through the ash.

"Get off it you idiot."

The demon climbed onto the turret still defiant.

Gruzzik bent to pick up a hammer. The hauler suddenly understood and scrambled down.

Once the workshop crew had secured the turret, Drevik led Gruzzik around it while the Obsidian Spire scholar brought the drawings.

Drevik pointed to the circular bearing assembly beneath the turret.

"This is the turret race. Its bearings carry the weight while allowing the upper assembly to turn. This stays."

Gruzzik crouched beside him and followed his claw toward the adjoining mechanism.

"And that?"

"The traverse gearing. It works against the tooth of traverse ring to turn the turret. We keep those for the first trials as well."

"So those parts move everything above them?"

"Yeah it includes the gun, the armor, the crew compartment, and whatever the crew has stuffed into that compartment."

Torbek leaned through the open hatch.

"Usually food or more ammunition."

"Then we have found something you will refuse to remove," Gruzzik said.

Torbek withdrew his horned head and gave him a sour look.

Gruzzik moved toward the gun.

"What about these supports?"

"The trunnions you meant," Drevik replied. "They are the pivots that allow the gun assembly to rise and fall. The gun cradle supports the weapon through its recoil movement. The cradle and recoil mechanism stay together, but our new frame must properly support them."

He moved a claw along the elevation mechanism on the drawing.

"We still need to examine this separately after all a Warhound does not raise its gun as far as we need."

Herrek opened the ledger on a nearby bench. Drevik pulled it closer and ran a finger down the entries.

"This assembly comes to roughly three tonnes with the gun and fittings."

Gruzzik looked back at the turret.

"How much can we lose?"

Drevik tapped the next group of figures.

"The seats, internal racks, storage fittings, and other equipment we will not use account for roughly two hundred kilograms. Most of those can be removed without much trouble."

"And the armor?"

"The enclosure, roof, and associated armored fittings account for much of the weight. Include the mantlet—the heavy armored shield around the gun—and that comes to about thirteen hundred kilogram for this tank."

Torbek’s expression changed.

"Fifteen hundred kilograms we do not have to turn."

"Some of that armor also carries supports," the scholar said. "Remove it before providing something else, and the gun will have very little reason to stay where you put it."

Drevik nodded and spread the proposed open mounting beside the turret drawing.

"We would build around the parts we need. Allow another three hundred kilograms for the new supports, and the moving assembly should come to about eighteen hundred kilograms."

Gruzzik checked the figures himself.

"Twelve hundred kilograms less than this."

"Approximately true but final we will know once the new frame is finished."

Gruzzik straightened, brushing soot from his knees.

"That is worth trying."

"The crew will lose the protection of the enclosure," the scholar added.

"They are already serving open guns," Drevik replied. "Their battery position will have to protect them."

Gruzzik glanced toward the yard, where the first experimental cannon stood above its stone foundation.

"What supplies the movement?"

"For the first trials, the crew will work the traverse gearing by hand."

"And when their arms give out?"

Drevik turned toward the forge mage waiting beside the drawings.

Vezrik had been quiet throughout the discussion. One of his horns was scorched white near the tip, and there were still small cuts across his cheek from the day the shell returned to their yard.

"The hand controls will let us examine the movement," he said. "Then I can try the assistance we discussed. It will need its own supply of power."

"Try it," Gruzzik said. "And have the stores weigh what we remove. I want to know whether these figures survive contact with the actual metal."

Over the next nine days, the workshop filled with separated fittings and chalk marks.

The smiths examined the borrowed assembly before adapting their experimental mounting. Vezrik worked beside them, occasionally arguing with Drevik over where his bindings could be placed without interfering with the crew.

Herrek kept the removed parts together. An overseer guarded the larger castings after finding a lesser demon trying to drag one away for a sleeping shelter.

By the time the gun returned to the yard, its upper assembly stood open above the fixed foundation. The barrel could rise, and the mounting could finally turn.

Gruzzik stood behind the crew as Drevik took the controls.

"Are we ready?"

"Yeah"

"Then target that post."

Drevik worked the controls, but the barrel swept straight past the target.

"Careful," Torbek said. "That one’s fast."

Drevik bared his teeth and reversed the turn, only to stop short of the mark.

Torbek folded his thick arms. "Would you like me to hold it still,would ya pal?"

"I’d like you to stand beside it."

"And why is that?"

"I’m finding it difficult to hate the post."

"Not a bad idea actually but you still wont be able to aim it properly."

Gruzzik rubbed a claw across his forehead.

"Keep aiming at the wood. I haven’t got a spare furnace master."

Torbek’s grin widened until Gruzzik turned toward him.

"And you can shut your mouth before I decide one less furnace master is acceptable."

The lighter assembly demanded less effort, but the controls still required practice. Changing direction while raising the barrel made the movement harder to judge. By midday, the crew could bring the gun onto a stationary mark without hurling it back and forth and that was probably the only achievement for whole day.

At Vezrik’s signal, an apprentice mage raised a wooden frame at the far end of the yard and carried it slowly through the air.

The gun followed for a short distance before it fell behind and swung past when the gunner tried to catch up.

Gruzzik watched the frame reach the end of its path.

"Again."

They repeated the attempt until the gunner’s shoulders ached and the frame had made enough crossings to irritate everyone watching.

Drevik finally stepped down.

"We have seen what they can manage by hand. Vezrik now do you magic?"

The mage approached the mounting and examined the markings his apprentices had prepared.

His first binding made the controls so resistant that the gunner thought something had jammed.

His second allowed an easier turn, then resisted when the crew tried to bring the barrel back.

Vezrik listened to the complaints, dismissed the working, and returned to the workshop with Drevik. Gruzzik let them argue over the drawings until the evening furnace bell.

Two days later, the crew tried again.

This time, the gun followed the wooden frame across the yard without the gunner hauling desperately at the controls. The assistance took some of the strain from the movement, and the crew could bring it to a stop closer to the point they intended.

Gruzzik watched three passes before speaking.

"Have it change direction."

Vezrik signaled to his apprentice.

And that was where everything fell apart.

The frame(target) climbed, turned sharply, and crossed back above its previous path.

The gunner swore in all languages he knew and some he discovered right then.

He had tried to raise the barrel while reversing the turn but by the time he found the frame again, it was already descending elsewhere.

Drevik raised a hand toward the apprentice.

"Bring the frame down. He’s lost it."

The wooden target descended onto the stones. The gunner released the controls and flexed his aching fingers, glaring at it as though the wood had deliberately embarrassed him.

Gruzzik stepped beside the mounting.

"The crew could follow it when it moved steadily," he said. "We will use that movement for the first firing trial."

Drevik nodded. "I’ll have a larger target prepared over the cleared range."

"Keep it at a fixed height and send it straight across, like an airship passing the position. Tomorrow, we find out whether following it is enough to land a shot."

Vezrik called his apprentice over to arrange the test, while Drevik ordered the crew to secure the gun.

The following morning, a larger wooden frame hung above the cleared testing ground. Dark cloth stretched across its center, giving the gunner something he could clearly distinguish through the sight.

The mage controlling it waited behind a stone shelter beside the range. At Vezrik’s signal, he carried the frame steadily between two distant markers.

Gruzzik watched its first crossing.

"That will do. Keep it moving like that."

The loader climbed onto the platform with a shell pressed against his chest. He passed it forward, stepped aside, and covered his ears as the breech closed.

CLACK.

Drevik stood beside the gunner.

"Follow it. Fire when you are ready."

The barrel turned with the moving frame.

KA-BOOM!

The shell missed. Dirt erupted beyond the target, which continued across the range with its cloth fluttering behind it.

Torbek opened his mouth.

"I saw it," Gruzzik said before he could speak.

The crew lowered the barrel and reloaded while the mage returned the target to its starting position.

On the second attempt, the shot tore through one edge of the cloth. A strip came loose and trailed beneath the frame.

"Got it!" the loader shouted.

"You tore the cloth," Drevik replied. "The frame is still hanging. Bring another shell."

The loader’s grin disappeared, but he hurried back to the ammunition box.

Gruzzik leaned toward Vezrik.

"Is the binding holding?"

"Yes. The crew can keep the gun moving without fighting its weight. They still have to judge the shot themselves."

Gruzzik looked at the gunner, who was wiping sweat from beneath his horns.

"Give him another pass."

The loader returned with the next round. Once the breech was closed, the gunner settled against the sight and waited for the frame to begin its crossing.

This time, the barrel followed it more smoothly.

KA-BOOM!

The shell struck a wooden crosspiece and smashed through the frame. Splinters and torn cloth scattered through the air before an explosion threw up dirt farther along the range.

The gunner pulled away from the sight.

Drevik slapped his shoulder.

"That was a proper hit."

The loaders began bellowing. One punched the other’s arm in celebration, received a much harder punch in return, and immediately forgot what they were celebrating.

"Enough!" Gruzzik shouted. "Leave the gun alone and take your fighting somewhere I cannot hear it."

Both demons stopped.

Gruzzik stepped out from behind the shelter and approached the mounting. Vezrik was already examining his markings, while Herrek checked the supports beneath the gun.

"Anything shifted?" Gruzzik asked.

Herrek crouched to inspect the marks at the base.

"Nothing that I can see."

Drevik climbed down from the platform, watching the remains of the target.

"The mounting works," he said. "But we have only managed a proper hit against something following a straight path."

Gruzzik glanced toward him.

"And once it turns?"

"The crew falls behind. By the time they correct their aim, the target has moved again."

Torbek folded his arms.

"Then use more guns. If enough shells cross its path, something should hit."

"It would improve our chances," Drevik replied. "But every gun still needs a crew, ammunition, and this magical assistance. We could end up committing an entire battery just to keep one dragon away."

"And the shells that miss will come down somewhere," the scholar added.

Gruzzik looked across the yard at the scar left by their first trial.

"Yes. We have demonstrated that thoroughly."

He turned back to Drevik.

"I cannot ask the forges for a forest of cannons every time someone wants protection from the sky. What else?"

Drevik rested a claw against the mounting.

"We need an aiming method that estimates where the target will be when the shell reaches it. Following its present position is not enough."

Gruzzik looked at Vezrik.

"Could an array do that? Watch the target, anticipate its movement, and direct the gun?"

The mage considered the question before answering.

"An observation spell could track its flight. Using that information to guide the gun and choose when to fire would require a new spell."

"Can you make it?"

"I can try but it would be an estimate, foreman. If a dragon suddenly changes direction after the shot, the shell could still miss."

"Then it would need to keep correcting its aim until the moment it fires," Drevik said.

Vezrik nodded slowly.

"That is what we would have to achieve."

Gruzzik looked between them.

"So we either spend enough guns and ammunition to fill its path with shells, or find a way to make each shot more likely to meet it."

"Those are our options," Drevik said.

Gruzzik turned toward the scholar.

"Record that. The mounting has passed this trial. The aiming has not."

Then he faced Vezrik.

"Find out what such an array would require. Drevik will work with you."

Torbek glanced at the gun.

"And until then?"

"We keep this one for trials," Gruzzik replied. "I am not ordering twenty more merely because we finally defeated a piece of wood."