treave
Arcane
- Joined
- Jul 6, 2008
- Messages
- 11,370
Alright, hella rusty, but let's give this a shot.
***
Armor on Promotion
I looked at the scattered parts I had managed to scavenge from the Junkyard. Having spent the past few months of my apprenticeship studying the magitech that this world used, I can now claim to be fairly confident in my understanding of the concept. Unfortunately, understanding doesn’t necessarily translate into practical results. This was all the more true for magitech, as the highest grade of construction techniques required corresponding skill in magery. That was a great, big gaping hole in my knowledge, one as big as Dumpster Doug’s gaping hole which he sold to other lonely hobos. Not that I debased myself to actually purchasing his services.
Regardless, I still knew enough to make my own suit of armor. It wouldn’t be what I fully envisioned, but it might still be enough to interest the guild. After all, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Technological gimmicks of my own to improve these suits. Hunkering over, I got to work.
***
“What’s this… thing?” Georgios grimaced, his eyes staring at the black hulk before him. I wiped my oily fingers on the tarp which has been covering the armor just moments before and gave him a tight grin.
“I put it together myself, boss.” I said, rapping the massive frame with my knuckles. Constructed out of scarred black metal, looking like it was bolted together in somebody’s backyard (which was indeed more or less the case) instead of being sculpted in a professional workshop, it towered over me. It did not have the wing-like fins that other magic armors sported. Instead, the back equipment was taken up by two long barrels. It was noticeably larger than the average magic armor; a natural consequence of my unfamiliarity with this world’s technology as well as the lack of tools at my disposal. I mean, I had to cobble it together from scrap, give me a break.
“Lemme guess. You snuck away parts from the Junkyard, didn’t you?” A sigh escapes the grizzled foreman. “That’s how you lose an arm or two, rookie. We ain’t in the business of providing stuff for free, and you just stole from us.”
My grin freezes. “Yeah, but-“
“That’s how we’d deal with thieves. But…” After interrupting you, Georgios lets out an exasperated sigh again, “I have no idea at all why you’d show me what you stole. What’re you up to? What’s with this hunk of junk?”
I swallow my saliva and gather my thoughts. That was close. I thought it was all over for a second, that he’d be reporting me and having the Junkyard do what they did to people they considered thieves.
“This hunk of junk isn’t just any hunk of junk. It’s a hunk of junk that’s more durable and powerful than any other magic armor in the arena,” I claim. Granted, it was also certainly slower and less maneuverable than any other magic armor in the arena, but I couldn’t do anything about that with my limited skills. Not yet, anyway.
I continue my marketing spiel, applying the persuasive charisma honed from years of begging for cash.
“This baby’s a whole new concept sure to revolutionize arena combat. Right now everyone’s going for mobility, aren’t they? Can’t blame them. In a fight between two suits of magic armor, the armor plating itself is surprisingly useless in close combat. It can deflect the ranged bolts commonly used, but it might as well be paper in melee range. I’ve solved this issue.”
I look up at the behemoth proudly. “It’s armored with an alloy of my own devising. The average magic knight would do nothing more than dent it even if they swing away at full power.” Being forced to make the frame so large also meant that I could pack more plating on it, so it worked out well there. This armor would be impervious to anything in the lower tiers of Onmusfall’s arena. I was confident about that.
“Okay.” Georgios did not look convinced.
“That’s not all. I’ve also augmented the detection package,” I continued. “In addition to the sensory orbs, I’ve added, uh, other devices that allow for easy tracking and prediction of the target. In fact, it’s so good that even a quadriplegic can shoot down a duck in this armor. That’s how good it is.” Explaining the full array of electronic sensors I packed into the head unit would likely go over Georgios’s head at this point, so I didn’t.
“To top it all off, I’ve revised the design for these enchanted bolt canisters. This belt-fed design increases the ammunition capacity by over tenfold, with a firing rate more than five times that of the best modern designs! And it has four of these marvels!”
Georgios stared at me, as if I was insane. I’m clearly not. “Look, boy—“
“But there’s more! Look at those two long barrels. Those are-“
“Good grief, are those magic cannons!?” George’s face paled. “Where did you get them? I’m bloody sure we didn’t have any of those lying around as scrap!”
“Is that what they call them here? Magic cannons?” I snort. “Well, I suppose this world’s conceived of that concept too. It’s just hooking up the mana capacitator directly to the cannons as a power source. What’s so hard about that?”
Similar techniques were used back in my world – once you figure out that mana is just another form of energy, it’s not particularly difficult. It’s not like it fires black holes or anything. I guess, I could make it do that, theoretically, if I could figure out how to generate a black hole from magic spells. But I’d have to be certifiably mad to try that in this world. Definitely. Besides, I’m not gonna try anything like that again.
“What’s so hard about… no, never mind. Can this thing even move?”
It could, but slowly. It could track and fire quite quickly but this machine was not going to be winning any prizes for flashy close combat moves.
“It can,” I said. “Or rather, it should. I don’t have the mana capacity to move it for combat, sadly.” The armor required a larger mana capacitator than usual due to its design, and my meagre magical abilities could do nothing more than move it.
Georgios’s scowl deepened. Despite my best efforts, he remains seemingly unconvinced. “And you stole from the Junkyard and dragged me here just to show me something you haven’t even tested yourself?”
“Well…”
“What’s going on here?”
A woman’s voice rings out in the dilapidated warehouse I had been using for working on the armor.
“Fuck.” Georgios turns around, facing the entrance. “Surprise seeing you here, missy. Were you doing the rounds?”
A young woman stood at the doors, dressed in a more refined manner than most in the Junkyard; instead of dirty overalls, she actually wore a dress, as pale as the moon. I’ve never seen her before – I’d definitely remember such a raven-haired beauty if I did.
“I was inspecting this warehouse. Since it wasn’t being used, the Chief wants it fixed up for the new gladiator we’re getting in soon.” Her icy-blue eyes glared at me. “Who’s this and why is he here?”
“Uh, a new apprentice mechanic. Sorry, missy, can’t remember his name for the life of me, but-“
“Has he been stealing from us?”
Georgios turned pale. “Why, uh…”
“Of course not, miss!” I spoke up quickly, eager to deflect any blame before it could land. “I was engaging in, right, a private engineering project for the betterment of the Junkyard! I assure you, I haven’t stolen any material from the guild for my own benefit!”
Her eyes moved towards the giant hulk behind me. “And so that thing would be…”
“Guild property, yes!” shouted Georgios, covering for me despite his lack of faith in my engineering skills.
That did not seem to improve her mood. “I wasn’t aware that our apprentices had enough spare time to be working on trash like this.”
“One man’s trash is another’s treasure.”
My clichéd turn of phrase didn’t seem to amuse her either. Ignoring me, she continued talking to my foreman.
“Regardless, I need this warehouse cleaned up. Dismantle that junk by tomorrow. Do you hear me? I’ll ignore the waste of time involved in making it.”
Dismantle it? After the months I spent working on it? It was the fate of a hobo to be downtrodden and browbeaten by their betters in life. I’m used to it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to take it just lying down from some prissy broad who walked in and started barking orders, though.
***
A. I try to persuade the woman by verbally promoting my armor’s good points, just like I attempted with Georgios.
B. No one will believe me without a demonstration. I beg them for a single chance to show off my magic armor.
C. I might not be able to fight in it, but I can still move it. I jump into the armor and make a run for it. If the Junkyard won’t give me a chance, I’m sure somewhere else will.
D. I decide to be obedient for now and dismantle it, biding my time and learning even more about magitech.
***
Armor on Promotion
I looked at the scattered parts I had managed to scavenge from the Junkyard. Having spent the past few months of my apprenticeship studying the magitech that this world used, I can now claim to be fairly confident in my understanding of the concept. Unfortunately, understanding doesn’t necessarily translate into practical results. This was all the more true for magitech, as the highest grade of construction techniques required corresponding skill in magery. That was a great, big gaping hole in my knowledge, one as big as Dumpster Doug’s gaping hole which he sold to other lonely hobos. Not that I debased myself to actually purchasing his services.
Regardless, I still knew enough to make my own suit of armor. It wouldn’t be what I fully envisioned, but it might still be enough to interest the guild. After all, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Technological gimmicks of my own to improve these suits. Hunkering over, I got to work.
***
“What’s this… thing?” Georgios grimaced, his eyes staring at the black hulk before him. I wiped my oily fingers on the tarp which has been covering the armor just moments before and gave him a tight grin.
“I put it together myself, boss.” I said, rapping the massive frame with my knuckles. Constructed out of scarred black metal, looking like it was bolted together in somebody’s backyard (which was indeed more or less the case) instead of being sculpted in a professional workshop, it towered over me. It did not have the wing-like fins that other magic armors sported. Instead, the back equipment was taken up by two long barrels. It was noticeably larger than the average magic armor; a natural consequence of my unfamiliarity with this world’s technology as well as the lack of tools at my disposal. I mean, I had to cobble it together from scrap, give me a break.
“Lemme guess. You snuck away parts from the Junkyard, didn’t you?” A sigh escapes the grizzled foreman. “That’s how you lose an arm or two, rookie. We ain’t in the business of providing stuff for free, and you just stole from us.”
My grin freezes. “Yeah, but-“
“That’s how we’d deal with thieves. But…” After interrupting you, Georgios lets out an exasperated sigh again, “I have no idea at all why you’d show me what you stole. What’re you up to? What’s with this hunk of junk?”
I swallow my saliva and gather my thoughts. That was close. I thought it was all over for a second, that he’d be reporting me and having the Junkyard do what they did to people they considered thieves.
“This hunk of junk isn’t just any hunk of junk. It’s a hunk of junk that’s more durable and powerful than any other magic armor in the arena,” I claim. Granted, it was also certainly slower and less maneuverable than any other magic armor in the arena, but I couldn’t do anything about that with my limited skills. Not yet, anyway.
I continue my marketing spiel, applying the persuasive charisma honed from years of begging for cash.
“This baby’s a whole new concept sure to revolutionize arena combat. Right now everyone’s going for mobility, aren’t they? Can’t blame them. In a fight between two suits of magic armor, the armor plating itself is surprisingly useless in close combat. It can deflect the ranged bolts commonly used, but it might as well be paper in melee range. I’ve solved this issue.”
I look up at the behemoth proudly. “It’s armored with an alloy of my own devising. The average magic knight would do nothing more than dent it even if they swing away at full power.” Being forced to make the frame so large also meant that I could pack more plating on it, so it worked out well there. This armor would be impervious to anything in the lower tiers of Onmusfall’s arena. I was confident about that.
“Okay.” Georgios did not look convinced.
“That’s not all. I’ve also augmented the detection package,” I continued. “In addition to the sensory orbs, I’ve added, uh, other devices that allow for easy tracking and prediction of the target. In fact, it’s so good that even a quadriplegic can shoot down a duck in this armor. That’s how good it is.” Explaining the full array of electronic sensors I packed into the head unit would likely go over Georgios’s head at this point, so I didn’t.
“To top it all off, I’ve revised the design for these enchanted bolt canisters. This belt-fed design increases the ammunition capacity by over tenfold, with a firing rate more than five times that of the best modern designs! And it has four of these marvels!”
Georgios stared at me, as if I was insane. I’m clearly not. “Look, boy—“
“But there’s more! Look at those two long barrels. Those are-“
“Good grief, are those magic cannons!?” George’s face paled. “Where did you get them? I’m bloody sure we didn’t have any of those lying around as scrap!”
“Is that what they call them here? Magic cannons?” I snort. “Well, I suppose this world’s conceived of that concept too. It’s just hooking up the mana capacitator directly to the cannons as a power source. What’s so hard about that?”
Similar techniques were used back in my world – once you figure out that mana is just another form of energy, it’s not particularly difficult. It’s not like it fires black holes or anything. I guess, I could make it do that, theoretically, if I could figure out how to generate a black hole from magic spells. But I’d have to be certifiably mad to try that in this world. Definitely. Besides, I’m not gonna try anything like that again.
“What’s so hard about… no, never mind. Can this thing even move?”
It could, but slowly. It could track and fire quite quickly but this machine was not going to be winning any prizes for flashy close combat moves.
“It can,” I said. “Or rather, it should. I don’t have the mana capacity to move it for combat, sadly.” The armor required a larger mana capacitator than usual due to its design, and my meagre magical abilities could do nothing more than move it.
Georgios’s scowl deepened. Despite my best efforts, he remains seemingly unconvinced. “And you stole from the Junkyard and dragged me here just to show me something you haven’t even tested yourself?”
“Well…”
“What’s going on here?”
A woman’s voice rings out in the dilapidated warehouse I had been using for working on the armor.
“Fuck.” Georgios turns around, facing the entrance. “Surprise seeing you here, missy. Were you doing the rounds?”
A young woman stood at the doors, dressed in a more refined manner than most in the Junkyard; instead of dirty overalls, she actually wore a dress, as pale as the moon. I’ve never seen her before – I’d definitely remember such a raven-haired beauty if I did.
“I was inspecting this warehouse. Since it wasn’t being used, the Chief wants it fixed up for the new gladiator we’re getting in soon.” Her icy-blue eyes glared at me. “Who’s this and why is he here?”
“Uh, a new apprentice mechanic. Sorry, missy, can’t remember his name for the life of me, but-“
“Has he been stealing from us?”
Georgios turned pale. “Why, uh…”
“Of course not, miss!” I spoke up quickly, eager to deflect any blame before it could land. “I was engaging in, right, a private engineering project for the betterment of the Junkyard! I assure you, I haven’t stolen any material from the guild for my own benefit!”
Her eyes moved towards the giant hulk behind me. “And so that thing would be…”
“Guild property, yes!” shouted Georgios, covering for me despite his lack of faith in my engineering skills.
That did not seem to improve her mood. “I wasn’t aware that our apprentices had enough spare time to be working on trash like this.”
“One man’s trash is another’s treasure.”
My clichéd turn of phrase didn’t seem to amuse her either. Ignoring me, she continued talking to my foreman.
“Regardless, I need this warehouse cleaned up. Dismantle that junk by tomorrow. Do you hear me? I’ll ignore the waste of time involved in making it.”
Dismantle it? After the months I spent working on it? It was the fate of a hobo to be downtrodden and browbeaten by their betters in life. I’m used to it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to take it just lying down from some prissy broad who walked in and started barking orders, though.
***
A. I try to persuade the woman by verbally promoting my armor’s good points, just like I attempted with Georgios.
B. No one will believe me without a demonstration. I beg them for a single chance to show off my magic armor.
C. I might not be able to fight in it, but I can still move it. I jump into the armor and make a run for it. If the Junkyard won’t give me a chance, I’m sure somewhere else will.
D. I decide to be obedient for now and dismantle it, biding my time and learning even more about magitech.