On reaching McSweens place however, they found him locked away in his workshop, also known as his backroom, refusing to answer the door with anything more than one word answers that "Yes" he was alright, "No" he hadn't got the pulsar working and "No!" he didn't want anything to eat or drink. With nothing left to do but wait out the rest of the evening L'non and Ja'aris relaxed into what Braxter assumed was a meditative state while Randyl simply sat on the chair grinding his teeth, his eyes closed and eyes moving constantly behind closed lids. Braxter himself made use of the time by attempting to clear the place up a little. He failed. The more things he cleaned or tried to arrange in some kind of order, the more things he found which needed cleaning and tidying. The fact that he didn't know what half the things were didn't help and that coupled with the fact that most of the things he found seemed to be components of something larger just made the task impossible.
As the light began to fade he closed the shutters on the windows and laid down on the floor, said a quick prayer to any gods who might be listening that he might be granted a more restful sleep than the last one and closed his eyes.
The next day followed much the same pattern as the previous with one major difference - they walked the streets of Heldaro together, as one. The threat of what had begun in The Golden Unicorn turning into something more painful being all too probable for any of them to want to risk it. Even Ja'aris.
For all the good it had done however, they may as well have stayed at McSweens place and tried their best to relax while he locked himself away in his workshop doing whatever it took to make the alarming noises which intermittently sounded from within. He had been in there for the whole day previous and not been seen before they left again that morning.
Now they walked through the village with people either going out of their way to avoid them or simply ignoring them. At one point as the four of them walked the debris strewn streets, they came across a villager struggling to fix the front door to his home. He had hold of it with both hands but was having difficulty locating it on the hinges which had been damaged almost beyond hope of use.
L'non immediately stepped forward to help, taking hold of the door to allow the man a better grip on the hinge. Initially he had smiled and nodded his thanks gratefully but on recognising who the help was being provided by, he had second thoughts. He looked around warily at Randyl, Braxter and Ja'aris who stood at the end of what remained of the path leading up to his home and with one last glance at L'non turned and ran away down the road. For a few moments L'non had continued to hold the door in place in stunned silence but realising that the man had just fled from him as if from a monster he leaned the door gently against the wall of the house and walked back down the path to his friends.
From there things got even more awkward. They began to see fewer and fewer villagers going about their business of rebuilding and instead began to entertain the feeling of being watched. This was accompanied by the occasional sighting of someone peering around a corner at them and then ducking back out of sight, only to have disappeared entirely when they turned the corner themselves.
"Worst watch I ever saw," grumbled Ja'aris after the third time this had happened. Braxter was forced to agree.
"Ever get the feeling we're not wanted?" he asked shaking his head and waving to somebody who right then was watching them whilst hiding behind a wall. The sun had risen behind him and he unwittingly cast a long shadow before himself across the open street, clearly giving away the place he was hiding.
"They want nothing from us Randyl. There is nothing we can do here." L'non conceded defeat with a voice laden with disappointment almost to the point of cracking.
Randyl sighed and ran a hand across his frustrated brow, looking around one final time.
"Very well. You're right. Let's get back to McSween." He said reluctantly.
"Then what Rand?" Braxter asked as the four of them turned and walked along the road in the direction of McSweens.
"Then we gather our things and tomorrow we head for Boreham, our army waits us there." He spoke confidently at first but then added under his breath, "Otherwise we are undone before we have even begun."
On returning to McSweens place they found things much the same as the day previous - he was locked in his workshop, from which he spoke to them again only through a closed door. Once more they told him of the villagers point blank denial of any external problems and probed further as to his progress with the Ulrogg weapon.
"Ahh...ahhh...yes, yes...aahh, nothing new to report...erm...just yet. No, nothing new here." He stammered through the closed door. L'non and Randyl looked at one another, neither of them having any idea what their friend could have been doing with the weapon for nearly two whole days to not know anything else about it, but also surprised that at least this time they managed to coax a sentence out of him.
"Well, should you need anything..." L'non began.
"Yes, I'll shout you, yes I know." McSween snapped back.
L'non gave a shrug and turned away from the door to face Braxter and Ja'aris who were drinking from their canteens in McSweens kitchen.
"I suggest we pack our things and rest up here, then leave at first light." He turned to face Braxter specifically. "It is many day's travel to Boreham with not many places to rest between here and there."
Braxter nodded his understanding and began to gather his few things together.
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed in a somber mood with Braxter in the yard behind McSweens house being instructed by Ja'aris in the art of basic blade combat.
They had no such luxury as a wooden practice blade and although the young novice was initially hampered by a nervousness at the possibility of injuring his instructor by accidentally cutting him with a real blade, Ja'aris' constant rain of insults and jibes soon dispelled this reservation.
Randyl watched from the doorway saying little and often looking skyward as if something up there had caught his attention. Eventually he decided he had become bored watching or he had seen enough and went back inside where he collapsed wordlessly on his back on McSweens bed.
L'non spent much of that time on the floor of the main room in a state of meditation again, his lips moving wordlessly every few minutes as his eyes twitched behind their lids. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow and his fists clenched and unclenched but otherwise he gave no outward sign of what he was thinking.
And from McSween there was nothing. He neither opened his door nor made any noise from the other side of it that he was even there any longer.
And so afternoon passed to evening and evening to night. Daylight waned and the winter moon rose on another clear, crisp night. Braxter and Ja'aris finished their drills and came inside.
Before long all four of them were asleep.
Right until McSween woke them screaming.
Ja'aris was the first to react - leaping out of his cot and landing on his haunches in the middle of the room, blades already in his hands and peering through the darkness, searching for an assailant. Randyl and L'non were not far behind him - L'non with his blade drawn while Randyl stood unarmed, an expression on his face more curious than alarmed.
As they slept the fire had burned low in its grate and gave off a feint red glow which meant that while it was difficult it was not impossible to see around the room. Braxter joined the others in the centre of the room bouncing from one foot to the other as he looked all around for any sign of danger.
"Aahhhh! Aaahhh!" McSweens voice once more, sounding completely out of place in the otherwise quiet of the surrounding night. "No...no! Are you...? Now then..." The initial alarm in his voice quickly turning to confusion which prompted L'non to beat his fist on the door of the workshop urgently.
"McSween! Are you alright in there? Open the door!" He shouted through the door then banged it three more times with his closed fist as if to emphasise his demand. Ja'aris moved between Braxter and the door.
"Soon as the door opens, brother, stand aside. I got this one." He growled. Braxter could see his intent without the words being spoken and felt the chill in his stomach drop even deeper.
"What is it do you think? Is it the Ulrogg? Have more come? Randyl?" He looked to his friend, wild-eyed and staring, terrified that they were under attack once more. But Randyl looked anything but panicked.
"Relax," he said, "there are no Ulrogg here. No adversaries of any kind I'd say." Randyl spoke calmly and gently put a restraining hand on Ja'aris' shoulder. "I rather think our friend may have made a discovery with his new toy."
No sooner had he said this than the door to the back room burst open and an extremely excited McSween appeared in its frame.
"Ah, you're all awake. That's good." He spoke quickly, running one hand through his hair and gripping the door frame with the other. Braxter couldn't help but wonder if he gripped the door to keep himself steady, such was the bulging nature of his eyes and the gaunt expression on his face broken open by his huge toothy grin.
"Gods man! What are you doing - shouting like that? I nearly came through it at a run." Ja'aris snapped and slipped his knives away. He looked at McSween closer and his expression turned to one of concern. "When was the last time you slept? In an actual bed I mean?"
"What? Oh, erm, no time for all that. Few days ago maybe." McSween waived both his hands in front of himself dismissively. "Time for all that later, much later. Afterwards." He practically ran around the room collecting things into his arms as he went - a few pieces of kindling from the pile beside the fire, candles from a box on the floor, numerous scraps of parchment. Then he stopped as if remembering something, paused for a second and quickly began to fill the water bucket with the dregs from every canteen he could find about the place.
"What're you doing? It's the middle of the night man!" Ja'aris followed him around the room. "And after what?"
McSween stopped as if seeing them all for the first time and realising they were there. "After I show you." He said, again with a huge grin breaking out over his face.
"Show us what my friend?" L'non asked calmly, so much in contrast with Ja'aris yet again. He stood beside the window and was peering out as if trying to see what McSween was referring to but able to make out nothing in the darkness.
"The pulsar." McSweens words fell with the weight of a hammer despite being accompanied by his short, deep laugh and his beaming smile. "I got it working. Would you like to see it?"
It was smaller than any of them expected it to be after seeing the deadly force it was able to unleash and for now it lay at peace on the table. They stood looking down on it in silence but all of them shared the same thoughts of wonder.
Ja'aris and Braxter had been the ones to carry it from the workshop, gently and carefully, scared that they might let it fall and risk...well who knows what might happen, what it might do.
It was a simple, dull black, much as it had been previously but now white lights had appeared at different places along its body and grip, lending an eerie glow to everything about it. McSween had explained to them that when he had managed to unlock the weapon, both in a literal and figurative sense, it had been a simple step onward for him to bring it to life, which had resulted in its current state of readiness. He had also reassured them that should they touch it they may feel a slight vibration running through it and not to be alarmed - he imagined that this was completely normal.
He imagined.
But he then added that it was probably best if they didn't touch it too much after all. And so they stood in silence looking down at it.
"Well, what do we do now?" Braxter asked when his impatience got the better of him
"Good question Master Kinross. A very good question. And one I think L'non or even your friend should be deciding." McSween hadn't stopped grinning feverishly since bursting out of his room. A new lease of life seemed to have gripped him since he started working on this new device. He stood almost shaking with excitement, eyes wide and head nodding every few seconds as he ran one hand or the other or both through his thick mop of unkempt hair, still trying in vain to keep it away from his face.
L'non and Randyl looked at one another before Randyl puckered his lips, raised his eyebrows and gave a shrug of deference to the watcher. He took a step away and into the shadows of McSweens home as L'non began to speak.
"This is a weapon of great power McSween, this we already know. Can it be controlled? Harnessed?" he asked.
"Yes, yes, of course it can." McSween answered quickly.
"I mean by you." L'non pressed more specifically. "Can it be controlled by you?"
McSween paused before he answered this time. He began to answer and paused again. He touched a finger to his lips while his other hand patted his thigh gently as he chose his words carefully before answering.
"Yes," he said, "...kind of."
Ja'aris let out a huge breath of laughter at that, clapping McSween across the shoulders in a moment of genuine good humour. It occurred to Braxter that this was a moment simply waiting for a derisive comment from Ja'aris but instead, the usually surly warrior seemed genuinely amused by the situation. Again, they seemed the best of friends yet Braxter could not imagine two less kindred spirits in the whole of Kreaton.
"I love it!" cried Ja'aris. "Our half-mad alchemist-engineer-inventor is kind of in control of something which could kill us all in a flash. Literally! This is becoming my kind of night!" He laughed and pulled McSween towards him, bumping heads in a gesture of shared kinship.
"What do you mean kind of McSween?" L'non was less enthusiastic about the situation.
"Well, don't get all cut up now. No, no, no. It's probably not going to do any damage from where it's sat just now. Not likely at all." McSween patted the air about the weapon in a placating manner intended for L'non. Braxter only wished his words had been chosen with a bit more care and a carried a bit more of a reassuring quality to them. Despite this he felt himself smiling. Something about McSweens manner - his enthusiasm about everything - had this effect on him and he supposed that was why Ja'aris held him in such high regard.
For someone who was subjected to so much darkness in the world, McSween was the exact opposite of that darkness. Not light exactly but something the darkness simply couldn't touch. Either that or spending time with him was like taking your life in your hands and it was this constant ever-present danger that appealed to Ja'aris. Braxter much preferred the former of these two reasons.
"What I mean to say, my friends, is that on its own, right now, it is simply matter. Metal. Chemicals - many unclassified as yet - and nothing more. It won't do anything more than your sword would if left on that same table. It has to be used. Activated." McSween paused and rolled his eyes as if remembering something.
"Fired," he corrected himself.
"And do you know how to do that?" L'non asked the question the others were thinking and McSweens grin spread even wider across his face.
"Oh yes. I have worked that out as well, of course." He answered, nodding his head faster and faster with every word. "Hence why we are out here now. A demonstration is in order I think. A demonstration and explanation." McSween picked up the weapon with both hands - one on its grip to aim it as it pivoted on his other hand which was half way along it's tubular body, holding its weight and keeping it steady.
Then he turned slowly and aimed it at L'non.
"Woah there, old friend! What are you doing?" Ja'aris was closest to him and put a restraining hand on his shoulder just as L'non took a reflexive step backwards. McSween didn't say a word, just stood pointing the thing at L'non, huge grin fixed in place. Braxter saw shadows moving from the corner of his eye as Randyl slowly prepared to intervene. L'non shook his head very slightly but didn't say a word.
Then McSween pulled the trigger.