The voice that cut through the tension belonged to Logan, who had hastened from the conference hall.
"Greetings Chief!" At his arrival, everyone snapped to attention with crisp salutes.
"Master Chief, how does one wield this? When riding a warg, this spear seems less effective than a wolf scimitar." Cardia, stepping forward, swished the spear through the air, struggling to find its proper technique.
Crowe, Lotts, and the others converged around Logan, eager for insight.
Given their military experience, they reasoned that the weapon might better serve the infantry rather than the cavalry.
"See that wooden stake out there?" Logan asked, taking the spear from Cardia with a firm grip and pointing toward a distant target on the training ground.
All eyes followed his gesture, affirming the sighting of the stake so two hundred ters away.
Then, with an effortless flick of his wrist, Logan launched the spear. It soared, tracing a swift, flawless arc through the air.
The sharp thud of the spear impaling the wooden stake echoed back to them within seconds, leaving the group in awe.
"What does this demonstrate?" Logan asked, noting their puzzled expressions.
With a knowing smile, he explained, "This is how you use the spear correctly. Beastn, with their long arms, can hurl it up to two hundred ters, making it deadlier than a bow and arrow."
A murmur of realization spread among the group as they grasped the weapon's purpose as a projectile.
They mulled over its potential, quickly agreeing with Logan, its impact could rival that of ten arrows, guaranteeing severe damage upon impact.
"There's sothing else the Chief didn't ntion." The conversation deepened as a seasoned voice chid in. It was Bastos, the venerable beastman blacksmith. "This spear strikes in a parabolic trajectory. Once it hits, it penetrates from top to bottom. That's what makes it truly fearso."
His words stirred a wave of excitent, and soon, everyone was eagerly reaching for a spear, ready to test their own aim and strength.
"Grandpa Bastos truly understands practicality; this is indeed a formidable throwing weapon," Logan concurred with the seasoned beastman's insight.
Bastos, now well into his seventies, held the title of the only interdiate blacksmith in the tribe. His expertise was passed down to the other two junior blacksmiths, who revered him not just as a ntor but also as a foundational pillar of their community.
The beastman, Bastos, had forged friendships as enduring as the weapons he crafted, having been a close confidant of Logan's grandfather since the early days when their tribe, the Silvermane, numbered rely in the hundreds.
For Logan, showing the proper respect to Bastos was a given, not only due to his craftsmanship but also because of their familial ties, affectionately addressing him as grandpa to show their deep bond.
"Each mber of the Second Wolf Cavalry Brigade is outfitted with a quintet of javelins, that totals 275 javelins," Bastos detailed the impressive armant.
"Five javelins each?" Cardia's voice echoed her astonishnt. She had assud a solitary javelin per warrior was the norm.
"Indeed, and each set can be securely fastened to our armor at the back, allowing us to carry all five javelins effortlessly," explained Logan, demonstrating the ingenious carrying chanism.
With Bastos's skilled assistance, they equipped the javelins swiftly. "This way, should we encounter the enemy, we can unleash a barrage of javelins from afar before closing in for hand-to-hand combat," Logan illustrated, the weight of the javelins negligible against his sturdy fra.
"For the cavalry, then?" inquired Crowe, exchanging a look with Lotts, both puzzled yet intrigued.
"That's the imdiate plan," affird Logan with a nod, revealing that the creation of these weapons was originally devised for confronting bandit threats, a detail he hadn't pondered deeply until now.
"Commander, consider the infantry as well," Crowe interjected earnestly. "Given their slower pace compared to wargs, arming them with such throwing weapons would be advantageous for engagents at two to three hundred ters."
After all, while a warg can cover 200 to 300 ters swiftly, a thrown weapon might work effectively with the first strike, but subsequent throws could find the enemy's cavalry closing in fast.
"Of course, we shouldn't discount the cavalry's role, especially in pursuit scenarios where their speed and impact are crucial," Logan mused aloud.
"Infantry?" he pondered, the wheels turning as he considered the logistics.
"If you believe it's feasible, you can place an order with the forge," Logan suggested, warming to the idea that infantry might indeed benefit more significantly from these weapons.
Besides, if this strategy could bolster the tribe's strength, there was no reason for him to oppose the initiative.
"Yes!" Crowe exclaid, seizing the mont.
"If we're talking about infantry, we should consider arming them with eight to ten javelins each," he proposed, sensing Logan's agreent.
"Discuss this with Grandpa Bastos. But rember, more equipnt isn't always better—every piece must be put to good use," Logan reminded casually.
"Yes!" Crowe affird eagerly.
Beside them, Bastos's eyes sparkled with anticipation. The forge had been bustling over the past few years, turning out weapons and armor daily.
With an iron mine near the Silvermane Tribe, there was never a shortage of ore. Armor and weapons were typically stockpiled for ergencies, without urgency dictating their production, crafting a few pieces one day, perhaps more the next, in a steady but unhurried pace.
Thus, the forge had dwindled to only six blacksmiths, including Bastos himself, and even making agricultural tools had beco more common than weapons.
For Bastos, a seasoned blacksmith who had dedicated decades to his craft, the decline of weapon forging was disheartening.
Fortunately, when Logan assud leadership and expanded the Silvermane territory, Bastos saw a resurgence of hope. That very night, Logan had rallied the tribe with a cry of ascent, and Bastos knew then that the forge would be revitalized, demand for its output was bound to increase.
Indeed, Logan had promptly commissioned new weapons and even recalled forr blacksmiths to their anvils. This revitalization was why Bastos was now so invigorated, ready to stoke the fires of the forge once again.
"Grandpa Bastos, isn't Uncle Quinn here today?" Logan inquired as they approached the storage area.
"That man's caught up in a slew of tasks today. He sent ahead with his latest creation," Bastos explained, leading them to the third cart. With a grin, he shifted a javelin aside to reveal a large wooden box nestled beneath.
"We've got four boxes in total here. He ntioned they contain fifty-six Crossbow and five hundred and sixty arrows," Bastos announced, prying open the lid of the box.
He peered inside with curiosity. To him, the contents at first seed just a jumble of wood and chanisms.
As word of the new weaponry spread, Crowe and the others quickly congregated, eager to see the innovation.
Logan lifted one of the devices. "An improved crossbow," he noted, inspecting the intricate craftsmanship.
Quinn, a beastman with the skills of a seasoned carpenter and an interdiate fabricator, had been given designs for both the crossbow and the regular bow. He had been imdiately captivated by the plans.
His technical prowess was evident. Given just a schematic, he had managed to construct a functional crossbow impressively quickly.
"Now, how did the crossbow turn out?" Logan wondered aloud as he held the modified repeating crossbow. This version, adapted from his past life's military designs, was ant to be more robust, with an effective range of no less than two hundred ters.
"Hmm?" Logan expressed his surprise. Quinn had made so modifications? The model he held had additional chanisms not specified in the original drawings.
"Where are the arrows for these?" Logan asked, his interest piqued.
"Right here!" Bastos responded, moving to the fourth cart. He opened another wooden box, revealing rows of neatly packed arrows, each about 20 centiters long.
Reviews
All reviews (0)