64 – Doing the Honors
With a mild chuckle, the markswoman peered into the open box… And froze in place, entranced. She stared at the gun, taking in every detail for a good minute and a half before she snapped out of the trance and reached in, visibly surprised by the distinct lack of bulk as she hefted it up with little effort.
“...It’s light,” she mused, furrowing her brow as she turned it over a few times in her hands before taking hold of the grip. She cocked the hammer and dry-fired, a small puff of sparks escaping the muzzle to the melodious ring. The noise was most familiar, similar in clarity to the way Zel’s cleaver sung when she swung it.
Perhaps this was cold-iron? Some sort of near-universal arcane metal that was ideal for special weapons. Zelsys wasn’t sure, and didn’t feel like disrupting Zef’s moment by asking. She could figure it out later.
The glimmer of fascination in Zef’s eye gave way to purpose. She holstered the revolver and took hold of the manual, flipping through its pages, her eye darting back and forth from line to line. She slowly backed away from the writing desk, sitting down on the edge of the bed as she devoured the manual’s contents with gusto. Zelsys could tell that the markswoman would want to give Pentacle a test-fire, and so she grabbed the Tablet and searched for any ammunition to be found, clearly able to recall a box of paper cartridges having been present among the things the three soldiers stored in the device.
She was right - they were listed in Fog Storage. Hundreds of them. Enough to supply a squad for months, about as much as one would expect to be present in an armored transport vehicle.
x278 Sparklock Rifle Cartridge
X349 Sparklock Pistol Cartridge
The assumption was that it would fire pistol cartridges, but… That cylinder was huge. Zelsys decided to retrieve one of each and see which fit. Snatching them up from the Fog vortex in turn, the pistol cartridge was noticeably smaller and had less powder, even though the ball wasn’t all that much smaller. Before she could even ask, Zef peeked over the top of the manual and remarked, “Says right here it takes standard rifle cartridges for ease of use.”
Her tone sounded half disappointed that it didn’t have some sort of extraordinary proprietary ammunition like Zel’s arm-cannon, and half relieved that she wouldn’t need to deal with such a bother. Zel dropped the pistol cartridge back into the Fog vortex before it could dissipate and selected nineteen more rifle cartridges for retrieval, tipping the Tablet over the desk and allowing the cartridges to pour out of the vortex onto a neat little pile.
“Wanna go give it a whirl right now?” she asked, herself eager to see how the gun would perform.
“I should probably finish reading the manual first, but…” Zef reluctantly agreed, closing shut the book and setting it aside as she rose from her seat. She deftly pulled the revolver from its holster and spun it on her finger, the weapon’s unusual center of mass causing her to almost fumble the well-practiced flourish. “I think I’ve got a good idea of how it works.”
She stepped towards the desk and cautiously took one of the paper cartridges from the pile, inserting it into one of Pentacle’s chambers and rotating it into place. Three quick pulls of the lever under the barrel worked the ramrod and compressed the load. Another cartridge, another rotation of the cylinder, a look into the newly-visible loaded chamber.
“Looks good…” the cyclops murmured before she returned to loading the gun with greater confidence, and in only a few seconds, she was done with all five chambers. Into its holster the gun went, whilst her eye snapped up to meet Zel’s gaze, an unspoken question already glimmering in the emerald of her iris. Before she could ask said question, Zelsys already answered.
“Pretty sure this place has a backyard where we could set up a makeshift shooting range, but…” she trailed off.
“I doubt anyone would be happy about hearing gunshots in the middle of the street, yeah. We could just go out into the fields, maybe? There should be enough things in the tablet that could be used as makeshift targets.”
A nod and a smile, and soon enough, they strode down the pale cobbled road on their way towards the same gate they had entered through. The guardsmen made no effort to stop them, and in a few minutes more, the two women were walking once again in armlock, this time down the very gravel road that brought them here.
Though the sun hung high in the sky and would do so for quite a few hours more, its rays diffused on the edges of the clouds and refracted through the myriad pollen particles that floated above the fields, forming godrays wherever one looked. It only lasted a short time, but for a small portion of their walk, it was truly like they were in a late summer’s dream.
They picked one of the side paths closer to the gate with deeper channels carved into the dirt, following in the footsteps of the farmers in the distance under the assumption that a well-frequented path would be relatively safe. A dozen meters off the main road was deemed to be far enough, and they took to setting up targets on the ground.
A rusted-through canteen, some wartime ration cans, a dented helmet that Zelsys found in the ditch - such were the targets. To start with, Zefaris practiced pulling Pentacle from its holster and putting it back in. She repeated the practiced motion a good half-dozen times, eventually bringing the cold-iron behemoth’s sights to bear on one of the cans, gripping the gun with both hands as she steadied her aim.
Click went the hammer when she cocked it back with her thumb.
The sound of the hammer striking the glyph rung out like a hammer striking an anvil. A lance of smoke and fire burst from the weapon’s muzzle. The back of the can exploded into a splash of brownish stew, yet Zefaris remained steadfast in her stance, barely moved by the recoil at all.