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B2 Chapter 6: Those Who Throw Stones
🕑 Added 2025-05-04 02:04:49 +0000 UTCB2 Chapter 6: Those Who Throw Stones
Quintus heaved himself against the winch, leveraging all of his supernaturally increased strength as he did. The ratchet latch slipped one more time, settling into place as the ballista's string tightened even further.
"Stand ready!"
He stepped back. At this point, the weapon was so taut that if something broke, everyone within twenty feet of the machine would be in serious danger. He had seen a cord snap once, the end detaching from the body of the ballista with violent force, nearly cutting a man in two.
With their current capabilities, a break would be even worse. Then again, maybe their increased resilience would counteract it. He had no intention of finding out either way.
"Fire!"
He gave the command and the lever was pulled.
A stone talent rocketed out of the ballista fast enough that Quintus had trouble tracking it. The projectile slammed into a wall of wooden stakes, reducing them to kindling and sending a shudder through the entire structure. Further down the wall, he heard the crack of splintering wood as similar scenes played out in unison. The officers watching the display jotted down a few notes on their tablets as his team began reloading.
Quintus moved as well, switching positions with another Legionnaire as he grabbed another talent and slotted it into place. The thing was heavy enough that he didn't think he would've managed this a week ago. But with proper technique, he had no problem getting it seated—even without another man to aid him.
This time, when the order was given, he was the one who pulled the lever. He looked on with satisfaction as the stone punched straight through the wooden defenses in a cloud of sawdust.
Work on their siege weaponry had begun as soon as they'd returned from Stonester. Their attack on that town had gone well enough without such equipment, but that wasn't likely to hold true for subsequent assaults. Especially if they were more heavily defended, which seemed increasingly likely.
They had begun scouting further afield of their position in order to identify other targets. Everyone expected the defenses and strength of their opposition to grow as they pierced deeper into the heart of Novara. But there was no avoiding it. As their challenges grew, so would they. In the meantime, they continued to train, improve, and consolidate their power here.
But they wouldn't just recreate the weapons of war they'd used before—they would build on them.
Quintus glanced further down the practice field. There, another line of men stood, manning bulky contraptions of wood and metal not too dissimilar to his own, but smaller. Two arms stretched out to either side of the weapon, with a length of rope stretching between them.
As he watched, the order to fire was given. A wave of heavy stone talents shot forward, embedding themselves into the wooden fortifications across the field. Then another. Then another.
Eventually, the men were ordered to halt, stepping back from the weapons. Quintus couldn't help but approve. The speed with which those repeating ballistae fired put even the most competent team to shame. They weren't anywhere near as consistent or accurate as their single-shot brethren, of course. But he had no doubt their engineers would improve on that.
One more Legionnaire tested an even more experimental weapon—a rough-looking miniature ballista hefted in his arms. The weapon spat a torrent of smaller stones at a wooden target before eventually seeming to jam. The soldier placed the heavy weaponry on the ground to stretch.
Quintus could empathize. Ballistae were never meant to be a handheld weapon, but fixed artillery. The ability to move them about so easily was yet another possibility afforded by their stats. And considering its effectiveness…
Quintus looked again at the wooden post, whose surface now bore more holes than an old tunic. The stones that hadn't passed through entirely remained lodged deep inside. He suppressed a shudder at what those might do to a man.
One of the officers near Quintus clicked his tongue, returning his attention to his own artillery. "It seems that weapons are not the only things that will require adjusting. We'll soon find our defenses to be sorely lacking as well."
Their increased strength allowed for a slew of new innovations and improvements to their equipment—siege weaponry in particular. A single Legionnaire could now ratchet a ballista further or load a heavier projectile into a catapult than ever before. That meant the engineers were having a field day with redesigns and adaptations, especially given the new materials of this world.
A lot of the changes still had to take into account practicality—how long it would take to reload or reset the equipment, ease of use, and so on—but many of their assumptions in those areas also needed to be rethought. And not just rethought once, but many times with the anticipation that the Legion would become stronger.
The Primus Pilus shook his head at the officer's comment. "Soon is too optimistic. In a few levels, I expect I'll be able to take apart that wall with my bare hands or by simply throwing rocks over it. And against this world's fighters? I expect that fortifications like these will be little better than wet parchment or a knee-high fence."
The officer frowned. "You have a point. We have yet to see how a high-leveled barbarian handles an assault on a fortified position. Yet I doubt they'll be entirely useless. They still serve to limit an enemy's options and angles of attack."
"Usually, yes. But when someone can simply leap over or demolish those defenses…" Quintus shrugged. "I suspect that even walls will only do so much."
"Surely not. Both of these towns had walls when we got here—that means they must still be seen as useful to some extent."
"For dealing with low level wildlife that is little more than a nuisance to actual fighters, yes. We also have yet to encounter a local of any substantial strength. The most threatening things around have been the monsters, and a wall is more than sufficient to thwart their intelligence," Quintus pointed out. "In fact, I'd argue that anything able to be stopped by our current fortifications poses little threat to us as we are in the first place. And that disparity will only continue to increase as we level and grow stronger."
After a bit more discussion between the engineers and the officers, they came to the conclusion that Quintus did actually have a point. Their presuppositions about what constituted an effective fortification—and how sturdy they needed to be—were all but useless now. If they continued operating off of the same assumptions they had in the past, then they ran the risk of getting completely blindsided and wiped out.
The realization left everyone quiet for several minutes. The practice of setting up defenses for their camps was one they'd drilled and practiced too many times to count. If they wouldn't do anything to stop the enemy, though… what was the point, unless they found more effective ways to set them?
"I think you might overstate the issue, Quintus."
He turned to see another figure approach their gathering. Tiberius strode tall, his hands clasped behind his back. Aquilifer Lucius followed a pace behind him, bearing the eagle standard as always, while an entourage of guards ringed them.
There was a clatter of salutes as everyone greeted the Legatus. The man nodded before turning back to address his first centurion. "Just as our offensive capabilities have seen great improvements, our defenses have potential to do the same."
"I don't disagree, Legatus," Quintus said carefully, not wanting to contradict Tiberius. "I simply mean to suggest that our preferred fortifications may need to be reconsidered. Even the strongest wall is of little use if the enemy can simply circumvent it."
"Perhaps a wall would not deter a sufficiently powerful individual, true," Tiberius conceded. "Yet it can still do much to repel the rank and file."
The officers murmured to each other, weighing the different positions put forth as Quintus mulled over the suggestion. Their defenses clearly could benefit from skills—both with regards to the efficiency with building them and their actual durability. But would that be enough?
When he voiced the question, the Legatus nodded. "Just as we have seen great advancements in our offensive abilities, so too do I anticipate similar options in defense. We merely need to explore them. If nothing else, our stats and skills will allow us to dig deeper ditches, build wider berms, move bigger logs."
"Yes, but trees only grow so big," Quintus countered, "And ditches serve little use against one who springs through the air as if he had wings."
"Examples," Tiberius waved him off. "We have already seen walls that rely on neither stone nor wood used by the rebels. Why wouldn't we be capable of the same?"
"...Do you believe we can create something like that as we currently are?" Quintus asked. He tried to hide the skepticism in his tone. "My understanding is that the dome was divine in nature—not something we are likely to reproduce easily."
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. What other choice do we have if not to try?"
"Focusing on increasing our offensive capabilities as a Legion," the Primus Pilus answered. "Already a shield wall of our men is far more resilient than one that we can build. Continuing to focus on our men and their strength may be a more promising path."
Tiberius hummed thoughtfully. "Perhaps a test is in order, then."
"A test, sir?" One of the officers asked, finally jumping in. The Legatus nodded.
"Indeed. A test of our current capabilities—offensive and defensive." He gestured to Quintus. "I will assemble a century of men to build fortifications to the best of our current abilities. You, Primus, will do the same, but attempt to overcome my defenses and take my position. Then, we shall see where our capabilities currently stand. Agreed?"
Quintus considered the proposal for a moment. It would be a good test–-for both their men and their skills. Not as good as going up against people of this world, but they were somewhat lacking in options there.
On top of that… he looked at his Legatus. He hadn't often had a chance to test himself against the man—in battle or otherwise. The opportunity to pit his abilities as a commander against Tiberius… The opportunity was too good to pass up.
"Who would I be allowed to recruit?" Quintus asked with visible interest.
"Anyone within the Legion—provided I don't get to them first." Tiberius quirked a faint smile. "I shall excuse them from duty to participate. As for the stakes… I believe that two day's leave would suffice. With a single day for any participant, victorious or not."
Quintus's eyebrows rose. To a soldier, the only currency more valuable than a day off was booze—with currency itself coming in close third, of course. With all that put together, how could he say no?
"I accept."
Quintus stepped forward to shake Tiberius's hand. Already his mind churned with ideas and tactics, sifting through the Legion's members for the best candidates to recruit. But beneath it all, one feeling dominated all the rest—anticipation.
This, Quintus decided, was going to be fun.
Comments
Ross
yeah so the stone is a talents in weight, hence stone talent, it was used historically too
Moses Lambert
"Talent"? The only use of Roman talent I can find is simply a standardized weight/coin. A stone talent rocketed out of the ballista fast enough that Quintus had trouble tracking it.
SilverbladeTE
Oooh, fun incoming ;)
