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Post by Mortar Retort on Nov 3, 2013 21:37:47 GMT -5
Retort had made her presence known quite quickly and verbose, explaining her connection to Watermark, who she was as a he and quelling the laughter of the other established alchemists, explaining her plans and demanding accommodations. After some forceful butting of heads, once even literally – the poor alchemist never saw it coming but Retort learned that sometimes establishing dominance early was crucial in negations (even if it resulted in a welt and an unconscious pony), Retort finally had a space in the Academy.
The battle outside raged, while Retort and the rest of the alchemist unicorns were busy working away, trying to get potions to the front lines for the injured and dying ponies. After a sample of the black ichors leaked by the Nightmares found its way to the Academy via a glass vial and a corpse, there was a tremendous uproar over who would study it. Retort had none of that, focusing her work on the healing potions and anything else she could make that may benefit the battle and coming siege.
It was amazing, Retort mused, the amount of materials and devises now at her disposal. Her hooves ringed with the possibilities, if her poor shop only had half of what the Academy had, she’d never have been labeled a second-rate quack! Admittedly, the title was not entirely unfounded, but by Celestia, science was a process – sometimes an unethical process and mistakes are made, but these are just stepping stones for the greater good. Retort subscribed to this philosophy religiously.
Soon, the castle was struck with a panicked call for unicorns. The alchemists looked up from their stations, muttering what this was all about, when a Royal Guard barged in demanding all unicorns to the front lines for defense. Many were reluctant at first but complied, mostly out of confusion. Retort stood firm, demanding explanation. The answer she had not expected. She trotted quickly to a nearby telescope and peered through the lens – Blackmane’s fleet littered the distance. ”Early? Well that just won’t due, won’t due at all.” She muttered to herself.
She turned away from the telescope, hoof pointing to a ragamuffin unicorn colt with a milky brown coat who had been assisting the alchemists. ”You there! What day is it?”
”Why it’s C-" He said before rudely interrupted.
”I don’t care, this is no time to speak of what day it is! I need you to get all the fireworks this castle has and brought to me immediately. Post-haste!”
The colt saluted and quickly trotted off, pushing past the Royal Guard. The other alchemist stopped what they were doing and shot Retort a odd look, confused as to why he would make such an odd request. Retort explained, ”Thermobaric explosives. Come on you ponies, are you alchemists or foals? Stay with me on this!” Her magic slid over a chalk board and she begun to write with her horn’s magic, ”We combine the following ingredients into a volatile mixture and encase them in a brittle glass vial. We strap the vial-“ She scratched out a quick list of various petroleum ingredients and high height generating components into a mixture formula, accompanied with diagrams of her idea. ”…to the firework, they pop, spewing the chemical into air as a fine mist that is then ignited by the chemical reaction in the firework. Thus, we get a chain reaction of super heated air and fire. Airships drop and burn while we get treated to an amazing show. It’s a win-win, really! Well, except the poor unfortunate souls aboard the sieging airships, they’re likely not to appreciate the spectacle.”
The other alchemists mulled about, murmuring about the plan, while Retort grew increasingly impatient. She clapped her hooves together, ”Snap to it! Don’t have all day and we need liters of this stuff!” Retort returned to her station, casting aside her other work and began to work on her new plan.
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