Titans of War

I was sitting on my golem's shoulder when I noticed the ogre approaching me. I had been watching the rising dawn after finishing repairs on Duke, the iron golem I had been piloting for months. The repairs this time around had been simple, just a wire replacement, a nasty fireball had fried some of the connection in Duke's right arm. His cover plate was still open and I had been periodically rechecking my work with the kind of fastidious paranoia that comes with relying on this iron titan to survive. The wires were, of course, as good as they could get. Even in the event the cables linking the mana battery to the locomotion rune was somehow severed, the grooves created by the power inscription could still transport the mana, if at a severe reduction. I had heard, though never had seen myself, that early golems did not use wires or even mana batteries. Just extremely rare mana charged crystals and runes fed by carved inscriptions to direct the flow of mana. It did not take long for the engineers from the Order of Brass to discover that using bronze conductors encased in insulated cotton was far more power efficient and that using mana batteries let a golem operate for far cheaper. It had always struck me as amusing how simple mechanical innovations for what was the pinnacle of the ongoing wars defensive had truly been. Swap a battery, encase the power line with wire, drill in some grounds and voila, you turned the production that once cost ten years wage for the average man to only one year. Now the issue was purely logistical, not performance, yet before I could muse further the ogre had finally arrived.

I had purposefully moved away from the local battery, this section of the trench line was well protected, housing one of the valued mana cannons, a munitions depot, and a forward post for command if our sector went hot. The recent skirmish had been a minor one, likely a probe by the elves, further down the hilltop where I had positioned my golem on to do my repairs I could see soldiers still milling about the trench line, resupplying ammo and performing routine checks. The skirmish had been minor only because a lord had been in the area, I was not sure which, but he had cut off the elven forces before they could even reach the trench line. Whatever stragglers had made it past were swiftly gunned down, but an elven mage had gotten within range to cast several spells, most of which Duke had taken the brunt of.

"Esteemed engineer Cormac of the Order of Brass!" Bellowed the ogre in a tone so loud and jovial I had to stop myself from shrinking back. We were almost eye level given I hadn't moved from my perch on Duke's shoulder. Being a goblin I could barely reach the man's chest if you counted my ears, ogres are massive buggers. The smiling ogre gestured back where he had come, towards the distant artillery piece. "Me and the boys were wondering if you could give us a hand, our cannon seems to be suffering a few mechanical problems. Think you could take a look for us?" I responded bluntly, mainly because I did not want to get up after just finishing repairs on Duke. "I have never touched a mana cannon in my life, I have no training for repairing one."

He just stared at me with a small smile, waiting in silence. After nearly half a minute passed I sighed, "Fine... show me where it is." I slid off of Duke's shoulder. Despite my annoyance I took a liking to the ogre already, his uniform marked him as a battle mage so he was either a fraternal brother of the artillery men or a member of the same order. Compared to myself, I wore only a simple bronze jumpsuit made of insulated cloth, my rank displayed on my right breast as a member of brass order's golemancers. The ogre was in full armor, layered with plate and equipped with a shield and spear, all of which was thrumming faintly with magic. I glanced at the runes enchanting his equipment out of idle curiosity as the man continued explaining the cannons problem. "The power draw is increasing with every shot, we're having to replace the battery more often and it seems to be struggling to make its rotation left, we thought it merely needed routine maintenance but our usual technician was redeployed to the sector west of here." I frowned, not at what he was describing, I was not even listening. I was looking at his runes and noting his armor had a travel rune and his shield had a power rune on it, both were vastly different from the standard choice for anyone on the frontline.

He continued describing more and more concerns with the cannon and I continued to pretend to listen as I pondered why his runes were so atypical. I was not trying to be rude, but only another goblin would understand why listening to people describe the problem for a device was largely meaningless. What they thought was the problem and what the problem actually was were generally mutually exclusive. When we finally reached the mana cannon the other ogres were milling around. A quick glance across the ranks told me that they all belonged to the same order, if only because of their familial nature with each other. I did not spot any icons but that was hardly unusual. Ogres were always sorting themselves into fraternities, clubs, and different orders, it would be more unusual if they were not within the same group. The mana cannon was built to be operated solely by ogres, largely due to the nature of the machine itself and for the fact the controls, munitions, and power banks required the size and magical ability only an ogre had. This made artillery teams close knit by nature.

The cannon itself was a massive barrel welded to a massive rotating platform that could be turned in a set of gears and cogs. The system itself had several hydraulics built into the platform to sustain the cannons recoil while the rotation via brute force from multiple ogres allowed them to adjust the cannons arc and trajectory at will. The 'gunner' seat consisted of a cushioned chair fit for an ogre and a desk-like stand that contained a spellbook, multiple maps of varying age and quality, and several ink pots, quills, and measuring tools. While not attached to the platform but no less important was the spotters nest, which was several telescopes on stands, a desk full of maps identical to the gunners, and the same assortment of writing materials and measuring tools. Out of sight beneath the platform and directly in the center of the cannon were massive cables that connected to a battery bank behind the cannons. The mana batteries here were the size of my entire body and charged on the ambient mana generated by the collected ogres. This many of them in such proximity made the natural excess mana they exuded compounded on each other. Several of them merely standing near the artillery battery was enough to visibly watch the power meter begin charging. More so when they began casting the right spells.