- Location
- France
A nice omake, opening perhaps new possibilities...and reminding me of all the time I spent on crafting games.A/N: I finally got done with that omake. This mostly came about from me noticing that we don't have many crafting projects and have mostly just been doing defense. I crave violence! Hopefully some of these ideas will stick and make life harder for the planners.
It was the time between seasons, after the busy activities of fall. The harvest had been stored away, the wickerman burnt, wood stacked, and projects complete. It was the time for little things, when there was time for nothing else. The gossip between families, double checking defenses, the playing of children, cleaning of weapons, repairing of tools, and all the other minute activities of life. It was a time of dread, before the Winter came. People would pray more often, assign guardians to the children if the worst happened, go on more patrols, and plan for coming danger.
Crafts of War
It was at this time that the craftsmen were busy tinkering away in their own little workshops in the Atelier. While many could feel the approach of the cold winds and empty bellies, they could feel what would happen afterwards. War would be waged. Not a culling of monsters and beasts, but a true war against the human servants of Winter. The battles would require new weapons, new armor, new medicines, and new magics, if the people of Union would overcome the new challenges.
–<0>–
The scraping sound of the hand planer was a constant noise from the workshop of John Granit. When he used his hands for work, they would not twitch out of nervousness. When his mind was turned to shaping, his worries were far away. Still, he shuddered at the thought of those worms crawling out of the wood he was working.
Insects were just one enemy that every woodworker had to face. Moisture, rot, dent, scratches, fire; all of them would eventually come for his work. His master had told him of some paints, varnishes, and treatments to stop them. They might even be able to protect against some of the abnormal dangers of winter. He knew that he could get resin and tar from the pines, and linseed oil from flax seed, but wax would be hard to find. He had heard whispers of the Mourners finding a strange sort of bee, but he would likely need to talk directly to Sara.
His hand twitched and it was only a ghostly whisper that stopped him from his tool. The strange powers that the Mourner had scared him. All of the magic, ghosts, and monsters scared him. Even so, he had done a little bit himself. It was a moment of weakness for him; a straight stick taken from one of the scarecrows. He had carved crude warding symbols into it, fire sharpened the tip, and fletched it. Now the cursed arrow sat in a locked box with its tip still smoldering. He should have just thrown it into a fire, but he could feel the potential.
Looking down, he realized that he had finished his project. It was a bigger stock then he would usually make, but that would fit the blacksmith's project just fine.
–<0>–
Arnaud Fabre leaned over his anvil, constantly pounding away. He had been constantly making nails, fittings, and tools for months and was tired of it. Even with both he and his apprentice working, there was little time for anything else. It was good that he had time to work on some of his personal projects, even if he could only use scraps.
The smithy was a place where everyone that used tools needed to visit at some time. All year he had heard people complaining and fearing a shortage of gunpowder. With the stock that John had delivered him, he was working towards a solution. Metal limbs, a stirrup, and trigger were mounted to it with handmade screws. With both arms, he flexed the limbs back as his apprentice put the string on. In his hands he held the finished crossbow.
It was heavier, bulkier, and less powerful than a gun, but it didn't require gunpowder, was quieter, and worked when wet. It would be perfect for some of the more stealthy hunts that the Son's Skirmishers might get into. He would need to put some channels in the bolts in case they used poisons.
Of course, there weren't just weapons that he needed to worry about. Fighters needed armor to defend from attacks. The issue was that he lacked the steel to make full plate, unless he used the bones from the Lords. He did have a way to work around that, but would take more time. Using a mix of poor steel for chainmail and good steel for splint, the small supply of steel could be stretched out.
If only they had more metal, not just steel. Lead for bullets, pewter for tableware, and bronze for countless different small things. Maybe he could get some of the scouts to look for signs of any deposits or buy some from the next ship to stop by? Something to think for another time.
–<0>–
A chimera stared with unblinking eyes at the young woman as its claws and fangs were ready to attack. However, Adesuwa wasn't scared as it was only two feet tall and made of stone. She was mostly making it as a way to use her creative energy, but the idea came from the Europeans. Apparently, it was common practice for churches to be adorned by fantastical, monstrous, and sometimes bawdy sculptures. At least it gave her something to do besides carve bricks and cannonballs.
Carving them was a way to make things that would always be needed and get a feel for the local stone. It helped that the material was readily available instead of needing to find or quarry larger stones. Carving such mundane objects didn't stop her from being creative. In some cannonballs she carved the faces of angry saints and others the new repetitive swirling style that had become popular.
There was one type of rock that she could not carve; flint. Before the introduction of steel, it was the Winter Walker's most valuable tool making material. The only way for her to shape it was through their method of knapping. While it was unlikely to be of much use, she still felt there was something significant about the stone.
–<0>–
In another section of the Atelier, more gentle work was being done by two natives. Nixkamich, the leatherworker, and Crying Mother, the weaver, worked side by side with the materials of their craft and similar tools. While neither one talked, they still enjoyed the shared company.
Together they worked on things that could help the scouts and warriors in the coming year. With them traveling such a large distance, there would be a need to carry supplies. New bags, sacks, belts, and satchels needed to be designed for food, water, weapons, and ammunition. Even outside of war they had their use in gathering supplies.
Another of their projects had a different purpose; stealth. To his own pride, Nixkamich had found himself quite adept at dyeing leather even though he was never taught how. His hope was to get a combination of colors that would blend in with the forest and complement Crying Mother's work. She worked on a cloak made of twine and turkey feathers. A mix of natural camouflage and sound dampening to keep one hidden from view.
Yet these projects would wait for a time when they were not repairing the clothes of Union for the coming Winter.
–<0>–
Gunpowder! If Union was going to go fight, they needed more of it. There was no master powderman to guide them, so they would need to make due with the knowledge of former soldiers and workers.
Getting the materials was the most basic task and most important. They had charcoal and plenty of ores would provide sulfur when smelted, but saltpeter would be needed in great abundance. They had compared recipes and there was not one that had it make up less than half of the black powder. Luckily, there was one amongst them that had once worked as a saltpeter man; Aitard Blackdirt.
He had been reluctant to speak of his profession from its reputation, but the threat of Winter and amiability of the people had won out. For that reason, he explained the hard and dirty work of running a nitrary. First, they would need to make shallow clay lined pits covered from the rain. Wood ash, dirt, hay, and feces needed to be mixed together in a pile four feet high underneath. It would need to be constantly mixed and kept moist by urine for a year till a white powder would form on the rotting mass. Then it was a simple matter of soaking the dirt to collect the saltpeter.
While it sounded simple, they would still need other pieces of equipment to properly measure, purify, process, and store the material; scales, vats, mills, distilled spirits, and barrels with copper hoops. They had barely even started and they had so much to do.
–<0>–
Within a smoky and steamy room men and women argued over a pot of boiling herbs. This was only one of many squabbles over the proper method of preparing a healing medicine. The types of herb, what form they were administered, what the illness actually was, what caused; all of these things were subjects to constant conflict.
Thankfully, there were some herbs that were known to Europeans, Natives, and Africans. Some they expected to be in demand were yarrow, horsetail, and goldenrod to heal bleeding internally and externally. This led them to realize that it would be better for those injured to have access to such medicine in the field as to not bleed out. Some experimented with soaking bandages in an herbal mixture, others bottled teas, and other packaged salves in satchels of corn leaf.
There were other worries that had less to do with curing illness and more to do with preventing them. The native practice of daily bathing, teeth brushing, and chewing spruce sap were starting to spread as many realized that they did not suffer disease as often. The addition that the people from the Old World introduced was the use of soap. Soon they might need to start making it in large batches for everyone to use.
–<0>–
The final group worked far away from the others in rooms with sturdy doors and little light. The wise members of Union worked on projects that would likely get them branded evil witches by many. This did not mean that what they did was wrong as many white witches and cleverfolk had protected people from supernatural threats.
While none of the people could claim to be masters of beneficial magic, they had lived long enough to learn some of the practices. Some tried their hands at making a witch bottle to contain harmful hexes, curses and spells. Others whispered of different charms and amulets used to increase one's luck like flint arrowheads and crucifix necklaces. Ways to stop hostile spirits from following warriors back from conflict throw ritual cleansing.
It was not only old practices, but completely new ones. In small vials made of bone and antler, the acid of the many-limbed devourers was stored. A liquid that could melt flesh but leave other things untouched could have many uses against the servants of Winter. Some of the Unchained had used feathers and razorweed thorns to delicately craft blow darts that they safely stored for later use. Others continued to look into the use of the magically imbued ash that they had available for any new uses.
–<0>–
And so it was that each craftsman went to work experimenting with many of the ideas that they had. It was certain that some would fail to succeed or need to be drastically changed, but that was part of the process of making new things. They all had experience with such things when first starting their craft. All the time and effort would be worth it, for it was went towards crafting greater then themselves.
It went towards crafting Union.
I know that this is a real random mess of ideas, but sometimes the writing process is like that. I want Union to really get into the spirit of unconventional warfare and freak out any Europeans that come over. I have plenty more ideas if anyone wants to hear them, and can explain anything mentioned written in greater detail.
With that my brain has been released from its obsession with magical colonial warfare and can focus on some new obsession.
Just a little thing, Crying Mother is a Colonist, if one using some Wunter Walkers practices (like changing names).