While Gen shrunk where he stood at the admonishment of his senior, Sarz nodded towards Zelsys.
“Go ahead, try it on. I’d like to see it worn as intended at least once,” he nodded towards the arm-harness. “Just don’t be surprised at the initial sting, y’know how these things are.”
A curious trepidation churned in Zel’s stomach for the split-second of consideration that she took before deciding to do as the smith asked, having no reason not to.
The sleeve was expectedly heavier than its predecessor, but not as heavy as its heavy-duty build would suggest, perhaps owing to the incorporation of both cold-iron and skymetal in its construction. It certainly sounded the part, emitting the slightest of musical notes with every movement.
Turning it over, she noticed a name etched into one of the few areas of metal visible on the shoulder piece’s inside.
Type-ZZ Kinetic Management Harness
The Impelling Arm
Making no comment on the curiosity, she worked the sleeve up her arm until her hand finally slid into the glove, both it and the straps a little too loose for the moment. A half-second later they tightened, shrinking and then adhering to her skin. A gentle thrum spread through her arm from every point of contact between it and the sleeve, progressively intensifying until it very nearly equaled the pain of the Tablet’s probing.
It was best described as the sleeve’s own magic forcing a needle-tipped tentacle into her shoulder, slithering about inside her arm for several seconds until it found a vein - or, in this case, an aether channel, as the Primordial Self let her know.
A few test movements were all she needed for her concerns to be allayed, the gauntlet didn’t limit her hand’s mobility to the slightest. Its fingers were tipped by short, pointed, claws which wouldn’t impede normal hand use, but with a spark of will, she easily provoked them into becoming wicked talons.
In fact, with just a slight pulse of Fulgur she was able to make sparks crackle between her fingers, essentia flowing unimpeded.
Then, the moment of truth.
Drawing in a deep breath, Zel attempted to exhale Fog through her skin with the intention of forming a layer over the back of her hand.
It flowed into her arm, she felt the Fog exiting the back of her hand, and… It sprayed out from the gap between the glove plates and the vambrace, seamlessly shaping itself into a gaseous plate over the back of her hand. A slight delay, but no longer than that of using either of the Pulse techniques through her old trousers, and therefore a better result than she had expected.
“I’m impressed,” she said to the smiths. “I trust you won’t mind me giving the gun a live test-fire before I take it home? I’m sure I can find a boulder or something.”
The G-Kaisers agreed more than readily, even if the levels of enthusiasm were not equal across the board. Sarz and the norseman apprentice exhibited the greatest of excitement, the latter apparently having been entirely uninvolved in her sleeve’s creation - to a slight relief on her part, considering his obvious inexperience.
A few minutes later and a walk down one of the many dirt roads fanning out from the central artery, they’d gotten far enough to mitigate the noise, and more importantly, to find a suitable target in the form of a boulder at the edge of a field.
The Three Smiths stood at the side of a ditch, Gen and Damaya nervously watching as their customer pulled a loaded shell out of Fog Storage. Meanwhile, Sarz and the apprentice both grinned ear to ear in expectation.
Zel slipped the shell into her pocket, working the bolt the same way she’d done every time before. A forceful upward nudge to rotate it, and an equally forceful yank to pull the breach open.
A soft metallic ringing echoed as the shell slid into the chamber and Zel shut the bolt behind it.
Gripping the new trigger lever’s reassuringly cold metal, she pointed her arm at the boulder… But then the wind picked up, and she knew to adjust her aim by the tiniest bit by the intensity of that wind.
She intentionally didn't brace herself the way she usually did, only shifting her stance to ensure she wouldn’t get pushed off balance.
A twist of the wrist.
Click.
Click.
CLANG
A ball of hot lead ripped forth from the muzzle alongside a tight cone of fire and smoke, and light pulsed through the cannon’s filigree, then up her arm, all in the span of no more than one third of a second. The sound of cracking stone resounded soon after.
Zel felt herself being pushed back, an immaterial shove upon her entire body all at once, powerful enough to shift her entire weight. She slid a short distance backwards, it was true, but that was the end of it.
“That’s… Maybe Two-thirds less felt recoil. I’m impressed,” Zel admitted, glancing at her gun, then at the smiths, and lastly at the rock, chuckling to herself at the mixture of relief and self-satisfaction that the G-Kaisers exuded. A quite deep hole now scarred the rock where she’d shot it, and her first thought was how she could immediately follow a shot up with a shell-less Thundercannon, knowing full well that given her combat style, it was perfectly plausible that she wouldn’t have the opportunity to reload.
Raising her hand again and taking aim, she said: “Now let’s see where all that recoil has gone. Thundercannon!”
She only gave a tiny spark of Fulgur, intent on using the Impelling Arm’s own reserve of Aether as fuel most of the technique. Runes flashed white, lightning arced between the pauldron and gauntlet, she felt the familiar Fulguric current through her forearm as she pushed down on the trigger lever.
Click.
Click…
CLANG
A tendril of searing white lashed forth from the muzzle, ripping a chunk from the rock with sheer explosive force. The stench of ozone filled the air.
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