The Wandering Inn

9.57 B

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Ballista. Based on the root Latin word of ballein, or ‘to throw’, at least on Earth. A huge, crossbow-shaped weapon that functioned off a similar concept to a crossbow, but actually had a completely different design when it came to the storage and release of energy.

If you were staring at one, say, in the snow, just outside Liscor, on a bed of wooden planks laid there to keep it from getting wet, with a shiny little pink bow on top of it, you might see a long, gleaming length of wood an arm span and a half across with a huge groove running down the center.

That neat groove was, like a crossbow, meant to hold the bolt and provide a simple launching point to send an object through the air and into a target with extreme force. Where a ballista differed from a bow or Greatbow was that, unlike the bows which you had to pull back and hold in place, crossbows and ballistae stored all the force, letting you hold your fire rather than demanding exceptional arm-strength.

However, where a crossbow would use a bow-design and pull a string back then lock it via a simple trigger mechanism, a ballista was more complex.

For one thing, Rags’ Thunderbows, which a Hobgoblin was propping up next to the ballista for comparison—even the emplaced, giant crossbows strung with Wyvern-fiber thread were tiny compared to this object.

Thunderbows had a tripod-like design to absorb the shock of firing. The ballista was mounted on a huge dais of wood that allowed it to swivel, then lock into place via gears. In fact, the astonished Drakes running around it and Riverfarm’s [Engineers], who’d come pouring out of the doorway and were being chased by an [Innkeeper] with a broom, had been trying to copy the impressive gears that few species could manufacture.

These, combined with a number of wheels that you could hand-crank, let the ballista move in every direction. Older models were more primitive and just had a simple support structure, but this one was new.

Polished. Each piece of wood was hand-cut and polished by Minotaurs, the trees selected for their strength and durability. Banded steel gleamed alongside rivets of metal that held each part together.

Oh, and it was huge.

“This is too big! Pallass’ ballistae aren’t—”

Watch Commander Venim was shouting as a single Antinium sat on top of the ballista. Which he could do because this was no two-man ballista from the days of the Roman Empire, again, on Earth. Smaller ballistae had been made such that you could port them around and set them up. This one, too, could move, but you’d need oxen, a bag of holding, and definitely [Engineers] to tear it down and set it up.

The huge, box-like ‘head’ of the ballista had two gigantic spindles of thread, like a bobbin, that were oddly twisted together like muscle fiber. In fact, the original inventors of the ballista had come across a technique known as ‘torsion’ wherein the bundles of fiber could be wound tighter and tighter together. Unlike a crossbow or bow which just pulled back, you tightened both spindles, and they stored the energy without the need to project all the force across the bow’s front.

That was what Rags, taking notes with her Goblins, had been trying to master and Kevin had told her about. Thunderbows, using Wyvernbone, had a set limit to how much force they could handle because they had to store it in the single ‘bow’ part of the weapon. But ballistae could store more force without needing to rely on one part to take all the stress.

Thus, the head of the bow was heavy, a giant rectangle of wood with two bow-limbs jutting out from each side, and when the ballista bolt—huge, iron-tipped, made of light balsa wood shafts, each one stamped with the House of Minos’ sigil—was placed in the rail, the ballista was ready to fire.

This was one of the largest products the House of Minos made. And they did not make these for sale, by and large. This ballista was the kind Rasea Zecrew had stolen for her Illuminary—a warship class ballista that had…

“—Effective range of two thousand feet for direct fire! Maximum range eight thousand! Artillery capabilities—nineteen thousand! That’s impossible!”

Someone was reading off the manual that came with it. Troydel raised his head in disbelief.

“Impossible? No. This is the House of Minos!”

Bezale roared with pride. She strode over and pointed to the gleaming contraption so they could see the varnished wood, the metal and painstaking work that had gone into making this device capable of taking the force of firing. It had to be two tons of weight! How had Magnolia even gotten it outside the inn!?

Well, the [Spies] had been watching her [Maids] setting up the foundation and then assembling it all evening while the party began. Bezale put her hand on the wood.

“This isn’t your Drake siege weapon, which they make with cheap lumber and magic. Each weapon from the House of Minos is meant to serve for decades—at least! Nations can buy one or two—if they’re approved! There is no finer weapon in all of Izril than this.”

“Hah. Now that’s where you’re wrong. Pallass has better.”

Someone, Chaldion, shot back. But even he couldn’t conceal the gleam of avarice in his eyes. The [Emperor], Laken Godart, was folding his arms, face mixed between a scowl and smile.

After all, this weapon put his newly-made trebuchets to shame. True, his trebuchets could fire farther, but this one could be aimed and didn’t need intensive calculations. It was a weapon for an archer, and the construction and expertise that went into it outstripped anything but a Walled City’s weapon with enchanted munitions.

The smile was because he was going to steal the designs. The House of Minos was one of a very small number of people who actually studied how things were made. Like the Drakes, they could reproduce siege weapons without relying on a class like [Engineer] and needing Skills.

But Laken’s people also believed that Skills were a crutch you could lean on—but not necessary. It would take time and effort, but Goblins, the Unseen Empire, both were learning just from observing this device.

And all of it, all of it was because Magnolia Reinhart had somehow managed to buy a Minotaur-made ballista and placed it here. She knew exactly what she was doing.

In fact, she really did know what she was doing. Right now, Lyonette du Marquin was screaming curses.

“Magnolia! You snake! You treacherous—you don’t give him what he wants! Bird, get off it! Bezale, tell your people to take it back! We cannot have this in the inn!”

“The inn can’t even support its weight. You put that on your roof and you’ll cave it in. Even with Erin’s Skills—that thing needs a foundation the kind this inn was never made in mind with.”

That was a warning from Hexel. Lyonette covered her face.

Yes, just firing the ballista had so many warnings attached in the manual that Felkhr, who was from the Engineering Guild, realized that this thing could shatter bones if you were too close. He flipped through the manual, which had come in triplicate.

Never fire this thing without something to hurl. Never aim it at anything you didn’t want to disappear. Maintenance routines alone had nearly a hundred pages of exacting notes.

The fact this ballista was here meant something. While Chaldion thought of the effective range of the weapon and how dangerous this might make Liscor’s ‘reach’, someone else thought about Magnolia and the House of Minos’ politics.

That someone was actually Archmage Valeterisa. She didn’t really care for machines. This one wasn’t even enchanted. But as the Archmage of Izril, she had a passing understanding of the principles that had gone into getting this here.

Forget the transport. Or the issues of cost. Magnolia Reinhart would find a way. The real challenge that should have stumped even her was…

The Minotaur King. The House of Minos had a working bureaucracy, but for matters like this, especially what had to be a custom-order and given the recipient, Valeterisa had no doubt that the Minotaur King herself, Inreza, would have had to approve this.

Which meant Inreza knew Bird was getting a ballista, and it also meant that some of the choices here were deliberate. Bezale, for all her posing as a Minotaur-expert, had missed the obvious. She was frowning at the bolts as if something in her mind had picked out an oddity, but she had probably just walked past the ballistae on the shores of the House of Minos, never operated one.

She was a [Mage], after all, and even if she had passed the trials of the Beriad, artillery-specialization was not part of that.

Chaldion noticed. Valeterisa noticed. Even Nalthaliarstrelous and Shassa noticed. Tyrion Veltras was looking towards Jericha with an unspoken question in his eyes, but no one said anything.

How interesting. Bird was lying on his backshell on top of the ballista, arms spread wide. He was laughing up at the snowy sky.

“This is the best Christmas ever! I have it! I have it! I will shoot every bird there was and ever will be! I am Bird! Ha! Hahaha—HAHAHAHAHA—”

He might have been going slightly insane with glee. Everyone else looked greatly concerned, from Liscor’s Council to Zevara, Venim, Lyonette—people who were responsible or might be affected by the ballista felt true fear on this great holiday.

As for Garuda? Bevussa Slenderscale slowly drank from a milkshake. Then she turned to her team.

“No one’s flying around Liscor for the near future.”

What a day. What a gift! People were still staring; others were going nuts, like Mrsha, who knew her best little brother would definitely let her fire that thing. Some, like Ryoka, were thinking of the Winter Solstice and wondering if that ballista would be overkill, needed, or worse, not enough.

And what did Erin think of all this?

Erin Solstice finished chasing away the [Spies] and [Engineers]. She turned and saw the massive contraption that she bet half a dozen Antinium or more would have to work together to even rotate, and her mind lit up a second with something like understanding.

Oh. Maybe…

She didn’t say what she thought. Rather, Erin walked up to the ballista the wrong way, facing the empty groove. Visma and Ekirra were trying to load a ballista bolt into it, and Erin asked one question to herself.

“I wonder if I’m immune to this?”

She decided not to find out. Tonight, at least. But Bird refused to go inside, even for cake, for over an hour. His ballista was here. He had willed it into existence.

This was the tale of a Bird and his new ballista as it happened up until the Winter Solstice.

——

His name was Bird, and he was the happiest Antinium in the entire world when he woke up. Bird was sitting in his Fortress of Fluff, a very good place to be.

The layered blankets and pillows were designed to be as comfy as possible. He had all kinds of comfy things around him; Antinium didn’t lie down to sleep, so the best ‘bed’ for them supported their shell as they passed out. He would pull a bolster of feathers in front of him and lean on them as he slept.

He even had a doll of himself that Visma had given him as a Christmas present, and so Bird had put the doll on his head to sleep. Sometimes, he would have company.

Mrsha would curl up next to him until Lyonette came in and tried to remove her, or Apista would land on his fortress and take a nap. Often, Bird found Reagen snoozing on his back, much to Numbtongue’s hurt, as Numbtongue’s cat liked Bird more than him on the grounds that Bird provided a more stable sleeping surface.

Bird liked life. He was first of the new Antinium: an Individual, and even more than that, he was one of the original chess players that had long ago met a strange [Innkeeper] and been granted a chance to become something more than what they were.

He, Bird, was even more different still, because he had quit the Free Hive entirely. He still visited, but Bird was a self-proclaimed Prognugator, known as ‘Bird the Hunter’ by the Drake cities. He was a [Bird Hunter], a [Liar], a [Revalantor], a [Singer], and a [Tactician].

He had hidden Niers in his hat. He had survived Liscor’s dungeon alone. He had killed giant Face-Eater Moths and Wyverns with arrows.

Sometimes, it amazed Bird the things he’d done, and he wondered if he’d dreamed it all. Today, he rushed to the window and put all four hands on the glass. His breath frosted the glass, and he wiped it away and saw—

“It’s real! I didn’t dream it! Huzzah! I am the happiest Bird ever! I have a ballista, and it wasn’t a dream! Lalala, Magnolia Reinhart is the best! Everyone else hates her, but I love her! Now I can shoot birds even in their nests! I wonder if I can hit Pallass from here? All birds must feel fear!”

He ran around in a circle in his room, arms raised, until someone shouted and rapped on his door.

“Bird! It’s barely past dawn! Stop shouting!”

That was Lyonette. She was a grumpy person. Bird opened the door meekly and beamed at Lyonette. She had a bushy head of red hair and looked bleary. Doubtless, she’d been up late for the party, and while she woke at dawn, she clearly regretted it today.

“I am sorry, Lyonette. But my ballista! Huzzah?”

He lifted his arms hopefully, and she made a half-hearted attempt.

“Huzzah. Bird—you can’t go outside and fire it.”

He was jogging down the hallway, but he slowed, reluctantly, as Lyonette called out.

“Why not?”

“We have to have a proper discussion about it. Bird, no. It’s dangerous, the Council and Zevara are both worried, and Erin—well, even she knows how insane it is! Magnolia Reinhart has lost her mind. You’re not to touch it until we set down a lot of ground rules, understand?”

Bird’s raised arms stopped waving. He lowered them.

“But—but it’s my present.”

His feet edged towards the hallway, and Lyonette glared.

“Bird! No breakfast if you touch it!”

The Worker thought about that. He was halfway downstairs when Lyonette chased after him.

“Bird! It’s a dangerous weapon! Plus—”

She seemed to have a thought. The thing was, you couldn’t threaten Bird like Mrsha. But you could reason with him.

“—It’s loud, Bird. You don’t want to wake up Erin, do you?”

The Antinium was almost at the common room door, and he paused. His entire body tensed up, and he hunched his shoulders.

“It’s not that loud. If I fire it once—”

“Erin will wake up, Bird. Plus, everyone else will get sad because they have no sleep. Remember how mad you were when Mrsha kept waking you up?”

Lyonette coaxed him, proving that she had lived with Bird for almost a year. The Antinium rotated slowly.

“But my ballista. What if I only sort of fire it?”

“How about after breakfast, Bird? And we have to make the rules. Come on, I’ll ask Calescent to make you some spicy bird nuggets. Breaded!”

Bird’s antennae drooped.

“What if someone steals it though, Lyonette?”

She rolled her eyes as Ser Sest relayed her order to Calescent, who was cooking with a new spatula Pebblesnatch had gifted him, yawning but smiling. Lyonette rolled her eyes, exasperated.

“Bird. It’s a giant weapon. No one’s going to steal it.”

He reluctantly sat at a table, kicking his legs. Oh well. He was going to get to fire it soon. This was the life of Bird, after all. He had gotten his ballista. He was a liar and a clever Bird. There was surely nothing he couldn’t do. He wondered if he could hunt a Gargoyle. Sometimes, he saw them in the High Passes.

Calescent could cook a Gargoyle, right?

——

“Someone tried to steal Bird’s ballista, Miss Lyonette. I ran ‘em off with Dame Ushar. But that makes three. Most didn’t know where to begin, but I reckon a guard is going to be needed.”

Lyonette nearly spat out her breakfast, and Bird’s head rose. Before he had even touched his ballista!

Alcaz delivered the report in the morning. Alcaz was a nice man. Ballistae aside, Bird had a nice family, a nice inn, and his mornings were often with the rest of the family at a big table.

As he understood the inn, there was Erin, who was like…an Erin. She did things. Sometimes, she died and was frozen and everyone was sad. Other times, she did crazy fun things. Or sad things. But the one who ran the inn was Lyonette.

She was the boss. Erin was like a mascot. Bird had once said this, and Lyonette had laughed until she fell over. Mrsha was the mini-mascot and troublemaker. She was the kid. Bird was also a kid, but he had a job and got paid.

While he sat in his tower, Mrsha had fun and did kid things. Lyonette ran the place; Peggy, Rosencrantz, Calescent, and the Thronebearers were all mini-bosses who did bossy things and kept things running.

Then there was the staff. There were two pets, Apista and Reagen. And the bone rat in the basement. Bird had named him ‘Weirdo’. No one else believed he existed, even Mrsha, and Mrsha believed all kinds of silly things.

Now, there were lots of guests, but those were guests. Even the Horns were guests when they were here. Kevin and Joseph were sort of guests still; they had jobs outside the inn. But the two wildcards in the inn were Numbtongue and Octavia.

Octavia had been sort of like a separate person in her shop for a long time. Now, she was more like the family, but sometimes she wasn’t part of the group. And Numbtongue was like…an older brother type guy who played in the inn, sometimes helped, but often just had fun or kissed people in his room.

Bird had tried to define his role, which wasn’t Mrsha’s, and he had settled on the facts. Numbtongue played music. He ate, sometimes helped, but mostly just was having fun.

Numbtongue was the vagrant bum hobo. The Hobgoblin got mad whenever Bird mentioned his job. But since he didn’t have a useful role, Bird didn’t care.

Obviously, Alcaz was the security. He was reporting on the attempted thefts, and Lyonette massaged her head.

“No one could fit that in a bag of holding, right, Alcaz?”

“No, Miss Lyonette. But I bet someone could try. And as I happened to understand it—if you can disassemble the ballista…”

“We’ll have to secure it. Oh, dead gods! What are we going to do? Erin, we have to meet with the Council! They’re afraid Bird will hit the city! And he could! If he aims up, the bolt could come down and level a house! And what if he misses? Magnolia’s going to ruin us all!”

Erin Solstice opened her mouth as she took a bite of her breakfast roll. She looked blankly at Lyonette.

“I don’t wanna meet the Council. How about you—”

“No! Or you can tell Bird the rules! He was going to fire it at dawn!”

Bird kicked his feet at the table happily, and Erin stared at him.

“…I’ll go talk to the Council. You tell Bird the rules. Uh, what’re the rules?”

Everyone turned to Bird, who was beaming. He glanced over at where Normen and Jewel were sitting. They were now [Knights], so he supposed that was their role in the inn. No longer security and funny adventurer that people made fun of.

Things changed, but Bird did not. He bounced up and down in his seat, vibed from side to side, and sang. Ever just Bird.

That was what worried his caretakers, of course. Lyonette looked far older than the girl who’d come to the inn, calling everyone peon. Mrsha was super tall compared to the white rat she’d been when biting people and hiding under the tables. Numbtongue…Bird supposed he hadn’t grown in height, but he was different from the naked Hob hiding in Erin’s basement.

And Erin also looked older. She was twenty-seven and had aged, like, eight years in a single year. But Bird? No thank you.

“Do not worry, Erin, Lyonette. I never miss. Well, sometimes I miss, but I never miss badly. I will promise to shoot only birds. And bad people. And things I want to shoot for fun. Okay? Good talk!”

He got up, and Erin had to call him back.

“Bird! I know you want to use your ballista, but it’s a big responsibility. Magnolia gave you a huge gift. So you should thank her. Maybe write her a letter? And you will have to follow more rules about firing it.”

“B—but it’s my gift. You do whatever you want.”

Bird pointed accusatorially at Erin, and Mrsha snorted. Erin sighed.

“I know, but I don’t have a siege weapon, Bird. We don’t even have a place to store it! I need to talk to Hexel.”

As it so happened, the Lamia was breakfasting at Erin’s inn.

“I thought you’d need my services, Miss Solstice. I think we had better begin cashing in some of your gifts from your admirers. Thankfully…the Merchant’s Guild confirms I have access to some of the funds already.”

Funds? Bird’s antennae waved, and his mind connected the dots. Sometimes, he was a silly fellow, he rightfully admitted, but he was still part of Erin’s inn.

He bet Fetohep and Niers and maybe Altestiel and the others had paid for her inn behind her back. It was a very Fetohep thing to do, and Erin probably needed money for the Solstice. The [Innkeeper] looked resigned.

“Big day, guys. Okay, I’ll meet with Hexel, Lyonette to the Council. But we make rules for Bird now and tell everyone what’s what. So no one worries…much. Got it? And if you so much as touch the ballista or break any rule, I’ll send it back to the House of Minos, Bird!”

She pointed at him, and he shouted in horror.

“No! You can’t! It’s my gift! You couldn’t even send it, anyways!”

“I know like half a dozen Couriers! I’ll find a way, Bird. No. Touching. You can fire it, but after we agree to how it’s used. Got it?”

She met his eyes with hers, and he knew she was serious. Bird slumped in his chair.

“You used to be more fun, Erin. You look twenty-seven today.”

He was pleased by the way she clutched at her heart. Bird beamed—right up until he noticed Mrsha trying to nab one of his chicken nuggets. Then he stared at her, so hurt that she put the nugget back on his plate and gave him half a fried egg.

All these minor things were okay. Because in the end—it always came up Bird. That was the ideal way to live, you know. Bird all the way down. All your chips on Bird. Then at some point, a monster ate you and you died.

It had worked so far for Bird.

——

There was someone Bird had missed on his internal categorization of the inn’s inhabitants, and it was Ulvama.

He’d thought she was just a guest. Then she was a layabout like Numbtongue. But he was beginning to fear she was becoming a new boss like Lyonette.

The problem was, he had a feeling she didn’t have the same problem dealing with him as everyone else. As proof of that, he and Ulvama had never quarreled. She ate food, he ate food. She never lectured him or told him something he didn’t want to hear. That suggested she understood him.

Rather, she told Lyonette or Erin to do things. Bird saw her come over while Erin was pulling at her hair over the ‘ballista rules’. Erin was consulting with Selys, Lyonette, Ser Dalimont, Ulvama, and Halrac over the rules, and when Bird noticed the [Shaman] eying him, he eyed her back.

“Bird. We have a list of rules for you, okay? It’s not…the worst.”

“How is the list so short?”

Lyonette was half-screaming as she leaned on Selys’ shoulder, and the [Heiress] was patting her hand.

“It’ll be okay, Lyonette. It’ll be okay. I have to go. I’ll come back tonight if the inn’s still standing.”

Bird sat there as Erin came over to tell him the rules with Lyonette. He instantly stopped listening. Ulvama was watching him, and Bird’s head moved left, right, in every direction but the list of rules. Erin snapped her fingers, and he pretended to pay attention, but he just watched the other guests.

Oh! Oh! Here was another another person he hadn’t thought of! Yelroan!

The Gnoll hadn’t been anywhere during Christmas, and only Bird seemed to have noticed in the commotion. He wasn’t part of the inn yet, that was the problem. Even Ulvama had worked her way in, but Yelroan acted like he didn’t matter, so people treated him like he didn’t.

He was heading upstairs, eying Bird and the others, yawning. His fur had snow in it. Bird bet he’d been with the Silverfang Gnolls. He’d seen Yelroan heading out before showing up when the presents were being opened.

He waved at Yelroan, and Erin snapped.

“Bird! Were you listening?”

Bird turned. And to her surprise, he nodded.

“Yes, Miss Erin. Rule #3. Never point the ballista at Liscor at all excepting in times of extreme crisis or with the express permission of Watch Captain Zevara. I am listening, see? Hello, Yelroan!”

He waved again, and the Gnoll waved back as everyone looked at him.

“Hi, ah, Bird.”

The [Mathematician] escaped, and Erin gave Bird a suspicious look. She knew he hadn’t been paying attention. Bird knew he hadn’t been paying attention. But he had the ability to remember anything he wanted. Usually. Mostly.

He did not want to remember these stupid rules, but with a sigh, Bird committed them to memory. He ignored the stupid ones. Basically, he summarized them up.

“I am not allowed to shoot people. I cannot aim my ballista at Liscor or anything else like the inn. I should not shoot the ballista into the air if I do not know where it lands. I cannot fire the ballista at night or in the early morning or evenings. I must not do anything dangerous with the ballista. Only I can fire the ballista, or someone Miss Lyonette or Miss Erin has approved. No Mrshas are ever allowed near the ballista. All of these rules are stupid, and I will ignore them if there is an emergency. Is that right?”

Lyonette had a headache. But Erin gave him a long look and nodded.

“That’s mostly it.”

Mrsha was protesting the rule about her, but the rest of the guests, even the silly ones, seemed to think the rules were good. Bird supposed he could accept them.

After all, he could still use his bow. He hopped out of his seat.

“Now I get to fire it!”

“No!”

Lyonette screamed, and he looked at her.

“What now?”

“I just—is this real? Is this reality? Calanfer doesn’t have a ballista! And Bird just has a weapon of war, and we’re letting him use it?”

Selys’ patting of Lyonette’s shoulder intensified. Bird chirped happily.

“That is because Calanfer is a backwater, primitive kingdom unlike Liscor, which is far better now that it has a ballista. The world can be divided into two kinds of places. One has a ballista. The other does not. Liscor’s walls are better than the Eternal Throne’s.”

She got so mad at this it was worth it. Erin just gave Bird another look that was mildly unsettling. It was her serious stare that made him think she knew something he didn’t.

“Lyonette, Magnolia knows what she’s doing. Take it up with her. We can’t stop Bird. If we forbid him from using it, he’ll fire it behind our backs. Let him try. But Bird—”

She held up a hand, and he decided one more injunction and he’d ignore everyone. Bird turned his head.

“Whaaaaaaat.”

Erin’s eyes were serious.

“Read the manual first, Bird.”

The [Bird Hunter] stopped. And remembered there was one. He stood there a second. He’d never had a bow that had a manual. He supposed he could read it.

——

Two hundred pages almost exactly. Bird flipped a page, then stared at a diagram of how the ballista was cranked up and down with one of the levers. Kevin oohed.

“Dude. These Minotaurs made something amazing! They don’t really have heavy industry, but they have gears on the level of Pallass. This is—”

Bird flipped the page. Kevin shouted.

“Hey! Bird! Erin told you to read it!”

“I am reading it. You are slow, Kevin. That handle moves it up. That handle moves it left to right. This is very easy.”

Bird was flipping through the manual at about a second or two per page. He memorized the things he thought he’d need to use later; most of it was simple. The ballista moved! It could swivel around, come apart, and there were cranks you turned to make it pull the lever back to cock for firing.

It wouldn’t, shouldn’t, be able to fire without being fully drawn and loaded, and even then, you disengaged a safety first along with another one to prime it to be fired to begin with. Obviously, in battle it was faster, but Bird saw four handles for four people at once to crank the ballista back.

Too bad he couldn’t do all four with one hand each. The other complex levers and such allowed precise movement, and it even had ways of calculating how to hit a target with some measurements on the ballista’s front. You would line up a tiny crosshair with a magnifying glass lens and then calculate how far away the target was and adjust.

Bird did that all with his bow, so this part didn’t interest him. He flipped through the handbook and stood up.

“All done! Time to shoot it!”

And like that, guests hurried out of the inn to watch from a safe distance. Lyonette screamed into her apron, and Mrsha went running only to be caught by Ser Sest.

“Holy shit. This is going to be awesome.”

Not everyone was as worried as Lyonette, by the way. Someone came jogging out, barefoot save for her footwraps, and Ryoka shivered as her bare feet made contact with the snow.

“Agh! Agh—”

She ran inside and got some slippers. But then she, all the Goblins, Antinium, and more were gathered around as Bird ran up to his ballista.

It was still there, a huge, gleaming mass of machinery. Bird stopped, ran a hand along it, felt the wood, and hugged it.

“This is the greatest day ever.”

“Whatcha going to shoot at, Bird?”

Erin called out as she walked out of her inn. Bird looked around and stared at Ryoka. The Wind Runner looked puzzled until Lyonette shouted.

“Bird!”

“I wish to practice with it. I wouldn’t hit anything. Maybe I will hit a bird today.”

Bird craned his head back, but it was winter, so few birds were around. He sighed. Maybe a Rock Crab?

Teriarch was striding past Bird and half-dragging a pleading Drake that Bird didn’t know behind him. He paid attention because she had wings.

“Another day? Come on, Teriarch—”

“You got your day off. The wilds wait for no one. We will see you in a week, Master Lulv.”

Teriarch dragged Rafaema through the door, and the Gnoll tried to go after them. Bird hoped Lulv would trip on his spear. He decided now was the time.

“I am going to fire! Everyone stand back! Especially Mrshas!”

Everyone took a generous step back. Bird grandly found the sheaf of ballista bolts and hefted one. They were lighter than he thought. A bit topheavy, but he knew how to compensate for the drop. He loaded one into the ballista, or tried to.

“Oh. I have forgotten this is wound up. One second. I wind with these…”

Sure enough, there were four huge wheels you spun around to draw the ballista back and wind up the spindles of thread. Bird began to rotate one around and found it was a fairly intensive process. It wasn’t impossible, but he doubted Mrsha could move the lever. The hand-crank was big enough to put both hands on to spin; it was hollow, and you could attach these metal rods so you could use your height and weight to spin it with additional leverage.

Bird could move the wheel without, so he did. The physical challenge was nothing in the face of his good mood.

He ended up using two hands, and when his audience saw the ballista slowly moving, Numbtongue, Garia, and even Ser Sest volunteered to help. Lyonette shouted.

“Sest!”

They got the ballista pulling back at quite good speed, and apparently, it only took two minutes and thirty seconds if you were really fast, without Skills, for a team to load the ballista.

Which was silly slow. But Bird supposed, for such a big weapon, it was fast. It might have taken longer; he was admiring the click of gears and how the complex things inside the ballista turned.

“What are you doing, Sest?”

Lyonette was outraged, but the charming Thronebearer shot her an embarrassed smile.

“I’m sorry, Miss Lyonette. But I am a lad at heart, and I’ll wager any lad wants to see this thing fire once.”

Certainly, it looked like everyone standing there wanted a turn, boys and girls and Mrshas. Even Lyonette fidgeted.

“Well, of course it looks fun, but—we’ll all have a go after Bird is done. However many days that is.”

Bird heard a tremendous click as he realized it was done. He stepped back, and Garia wiped her brow theatrically.

“That’d be a good workout, like your gym.”

“Yup. All set, Bird?”

“I am. Please step back, Numbtongue! Side effects of being too near the ballista include death. If you are not standing where I am.”

Bird drew a line, and the others stepped back hurriedly as he slotted the bolt into place. Perfect! Then Lyonette called out again.

“Bird! Don’t aim that at the city! Understand?”

Wow. He was getting tired of her pointing out things he knew. Bird twitched his antennae expressively.

“I am going to aim it at something else, Lyonette. That Rock Crab, maybe.”

He’d spotted an innocent Rock Crab slowly meandering across the Floodplains. They usually hibernated, but this one might have been cold and looking for more warmth. It was well away from any farm, and Bird reckoned it was maybe a thousand and four hundred paces away.

Perfect. The ballista’s shots could curve, but anything in two thousand feet could be hit just by pointing and firing. He heaved on the ballista, and nothing happened. Then Bird slapped his forehead.

“Oh. Silly me. Lever.”

He had to find a hand-crank and turn it. Slowly, the ballista began swinging left, towards Liscor’s walls. All the Watch had been on the walls, staring at the ballista, and half took cover behind the battlements. Bird stopped, reversed the direction of the wheel.

“Oops. Haha. La, la, turning right. I should not have loaded this right now. I could fire it just by pulling this lever.”

He pointed at it. Lyonette did not continue screaming; she seemed to realize she was the one occupying that role, but she gave Erin a significant look.

The lever was, in fact, sort of odd to Bird. He’d seen crossbows work, and while he didn’t like the trigger mechanism, he could see pointing and aiming it. He wished the ballista had one, even if it would be comically huge or tiny compared to the thing. A lever was so…funny for a ranged weapon.

Oh well. He kept moving the ballista right…and right…and right again. After about a minute of watching it turn, Numbtongue called out.

“You going to take all day, Bird? I want a turn!”

“It turns slow. Help me turn that wheel. No, that one.”

Again, two people could manipulate the ballista at a time. Bird let Garia and Numbtongue take over and began fiddling with the base.

“Stand clear of that thingy or it’ll mash your feet.”

Since she had no feet, Charlay the Centaur peered around the ballista.

“Psst, Antinium fellow. What’s that lever do?”

“Up-down, strange Centaur lady.”

The ballista was aimed up. Bird had to dial it down…and down…and after a while, Sest joined in.

It was more fiddly than he thought. With enough people, he knew you could disengage the gear-system and move with brute force, then re-lock it, but this was fine. Bird shouted.

“Okay! We’re ready!”

About sixteen minutes had passed since he began the loading, and he finally had the Rock Crab in sight. Bird disengaged the safety-lever as everyone sprang back.

“Now, crab, is the day of your discontent. With life. Because I have a ballista. Heh.”

He put his hand on the firing mechanism and stared at the crab from the back end of the ballista. Then Bird paused.

“Oops. You moved.”

He began twirling a hand-crank and making a more minute adjustment to the right. Mrsha and the kids were dancing up and down. Ekirra had his paws half over his eyes, but he was peeking every two seconds. Erin was munching on some chips Ulvama had in a bowl, and the Hobgoblin was poking Erin because they were her chips.

Ser Sest was holding up a scrying orb to show someone, and Bird paused.

“Eat crab, Rock Crab! No, wait. Eat ballista…”

He paused. He needed the right words for this.

“You are not a bird, but my ballista doesn’t care for—hard shell? Meet bolt! No.”

“This is going to be crab-solutely amazing to see?”

Kevin shouted, and Bird gave him a long look, then a thumbs up.

“Yes. Good job, Kevin!”

He turned, and everyone tensed. Then Bird sighed.

“Stop moving!”

He fiddled with the controls and spun the ballista up—then down. Then it was moving left. Bird paused. Cranked the handle. Up, down…

The stupid Rock Crab didn’t have a deathwish or something! It was rushing around, likely chasing a rabbit or something. And unlike his bow, each adjustment meant Bird had to reach over and turn a crank. At least he had four hands; it was as if this mechanism had been designed for him, but it was annoying.

“Bird, just fire! It’s cold.”

Erin shouted, and Bird snapped back.

“I’m trying!”

“Curve the bolt! Don’t you have a—”

Bird didn’t dignify that with an answer. He had [Homing Arrow], which would work on the ballista, but obviously this one was going to travel so fast that he wouldn’t get much curve on it. If it was longer-range…

At last, the Rock Crab halted, raising two claws in victory, and Bird exhaled. Now! He stopped, pulled the lever, and the ballista fired at last.

How did you describe the ballista firing? Well, in a sense, it wasn’t the dramatic thing you expected.

The ballista barely moved, and there was no huge blowback; if there were, it’d be dangerous to the operator. In the same way, the sound of the two wound spindles of thread unleashing their energy was not the loudest sound in the world.

And yet—the arms of the ballista moved so fast from their taut position to spreading out, releasing the energy and dragging the string up to launch the bolt, that even Bird barely saw them move.

All that force propelled one single bolt, as tall as Bird, through the air. Enough power to send twenty, perhaps thirty pounds of metal and wood through the world and through anything it wanted.

The bolt travelled across the Floodplains and hit the ground with such force the whump of impact blew the top off a hill and created an explosion even the audience could see, dirt and snow flying everywhere. Mrsha’s mouth dropped open, and a huge cheer rose—then dwindled in confusion.

Bird himself had flinched from the force he felt in front of him. But as his eyes found the ballista’s trajectory, he stopped. And stared.

A Rock Crab was frozen, a claw raised, staring at the ground juuuust in front of it, which was now a crater. The splintered ballista bolt had hit the ground, torn out a massive chunk, and gone flying, sending shrapnel and dirt spraying for the next hundred feet. The Rock Crab stared at the hole, touched it with a claw, then went scurrying fast as it could in the other direction.

“Bird. You—missed?”

Erin blinked, then chuckled, and good-natured laughter arose. Ser Sest leapt up with a whoop.

“But the force of it! Did you see that, Your Majesties? Er, apologies.”

“I guess even Bird can miss with a new bow.”

Numbtongue commented to Garia, chuckling. Bird, though, frowned and realized he must have been a tad right. He bent over and went for another shot—only to realize he needed to reload. And the Rock Crab was running for its life. Bird stood there as Mrsha ran up, begging to try, and