Work Text:
One can expect to find many oddities and peculiar items in the outside, human dominated lands, but this particular curiosity were enough to startle even an experienced traveler such as I.
It were in an old, derelict, yet strangely cleanly warehouse that I had discovered it. My initial observations made me think it were an eccentric sort of walking cane, but this belief was vanquished as quick as I had grabbed the curious object. It was far, far too heavy to be any variety of cane I had ever known, and it seemed to possess many mechanical components. It was not long that I had to inspect the device before finding words engraved upon the metal.
“U.S. MODEL 1896, SPRINGFIELD ARMORY. 82997”
I must admit, I could make extremely little sense of the writing. Perhaps “Springfield Armory” is the name of the warehouse? Whatever all of it meant, it appeared to serve a sort of greater purpose beyond just ornamentation. I pray it may be that someone in my home of Makai may assist me in understanding.
As my curiosity regarding the inscriptions on the device began to dwindle, my curiosity pertaining to the purpose of the device itself rose. I started to (admittedly carelessly) fiddle with the many mechanical pieces of this device. I found that the same component which bore the writings could also be moved into several positions, the third of which caused it to open up and reveal a small chamber which held a small number of an even more peculiar object. Golden in color, and not horribly dissimilar from the length and general shape of a human finger, I could not even begin to divine its purpose nor functionality. Closing this chamber by resetting the same piece back to its original position, I tried to test the functions of other parts of the contraption. Many I found to be barely interesting, until I set my eyes upon a small lever towards the item’s rear.
This lever firmly held my intention; I believed it could possibly be the key point in understanding what I held in my hands. I attempted to pull it forward, resulting in nothing. Far more interesting was what had occurred when I pulled it back: a concussive blast came out of the front of the device and it jumped out of my hands, nearly striking me in the lower jaw. My ears immediately began to ring, my clothes and hands became covered in a horrible, acrid smell, and I noticed a small hole left in the wall the gadget had been pointed at.
Even now that a day has passed, I’m still stuck contemplating what one could possibly use such a terrible instrument for. Mayhaps as a punishment for unruly children? Perhaps as a sort of firework? I thought my friend Sara, who I assumed to be knowledgeable on similar technologies, could help me. That was until she laughed in hilarity at my ignorance on the subject. She referred to the tool I had encountered as a “boom stick”, which I cannot help but suspect to be a sort of nickname rather than a proper term. Sara further claimed to possess many in her cabin and offered to bring one to show me, until I reminded her that her work contract stipulates she shall guard the gates to Makai nonstop for the next 75 years. I saw the grin on her face slowly fade as her mind became reminded of this fact. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to settle for such jobs if she had just chosen to be born to be well-born like myself?