Meeting the Blacksmiths

Bruno stepped off the platform and left the recruits to Berthold. He walked over to Antoine who bowed as soon as he neared him. 

"Your Highness. That was a good speech. I must admit, it was moving," Antoine commented.

"Don't flatter me Antoine. All I did was a simple speech. Now, I want to meet the blacksmiths and the craftsmen." 

"They are in a different venue, Your Highness," Antoine said.

"Where are they?" Bruno asked.

"They are in the Artisan Guild Hall near the southern edge of Loretto, Your Highness," Antoine replied promptly. "I took the liberty of preparing a carriage for you."

"Good. Let's not waste any time," Bruno said, brushing past Antoine toward the waiting carriage.

Antoine followed closely, signaling the guards to maintain formation. Bruno climbed into the carriage, and Antoine joined him inside, seating himself opposite the prince. The coachman snapped the reins, and the carriage rolled forward, the cobblestone streets of Loretto passing by in a blur.

Ten minutes later, the carriage pulled to a stop in front of a modest but well-maintained building. The Artisan Guild Hall was constructed of sturdy timber and stone, its facade decorated with carved symbols representing various trades. A small group of guards stood outside, their presence ensuring order.

Bruno stepped out of the carriage, his boots crunching against the gravel path. Antoine led the way to the entrance, where a guild representative greeted them with a nervous bow.

"Your Highness, it is an honor to have you here. The craftsmen and blacksmiths are assembled inside," the representative said, gesturing toward the hall.

Bruno nodded and entered. The interior was a large, open space with high ceilings and wooden beams. Several rows of tables were set up, and around them stood men and women of varying ages, At the far end of the hall, a forge crackled with low flames, its heat radiating into the room.

As Bruno strode to the center, the murmurs of conversation faded. He glanced around, noting the calloused hands and work-worn attire of the people before him. These were skilled artisans, the backbone of Corse's economy and, potentially, its military.

"Good day," Bruno began. "I am Prince Bruno de Elysea, governor of Corse. I have come to speak with you about a matter that concerns the future of this island—and your role in it."

The room remained silent, the craftsmen and blacksmiths listening intently.

"As you are aware, Corse faces threats both internal and external. Rebellion festers in the shadows, and those who seek to destabilize our home grow bolder by the day. To secure our future, we must prepare—this includes arming and equipping our forces. Now, raise your hand to those who have experience on making a gun, specifically, this gun…"

Bruno beckoned of the soldiers standing watch nearby to hand over his musket. He took the musket handed to him by one of the guards. It was a rifle musket, eerily similar to the M1777 Charleville musket he remembered studying during his previous life. He examined the weapon, his fingers running over the smooth wood and polished metal. Despite its old design, it was still an effective weapon for the time.

"Excellent," he said. "Now, let me ask another question. Are any of you familiar with the concept of improving this design? Perhaps making it more reliable, faster to load, or more accurate?"

A few hesitant murmurs spread through the crowd, but only a couple of hands remained raised. Bruno took note of their faces.

"Good," he said, lowering the musket and handing it back to the soldier. "But the weapon I just showed you, has some problems. Reloading takes too long, especially in battle. Soldiers must carefully pour powder, ram a ball, and prime the pan. It is a process that leaves them vulnerable. Imagine a weapon that eliminates this cumbersome process—a weapon with cartridges that ignite instantly using a percussion cap."

Most of the craftsmen looked at each other, intrigued by the concept. A blacksmith in his fifties with a thick beard stepped forward. 

"May I speak, Your Highness?" 

"Yes you may," Matthew permitted.

"Your Highness, what is a percussion cap?"

"A good question. The percussion cap is a small, metal container—usually made of copper or brass—that holds a chemical compound called fulminate of mercury. When struck by a hammer, it creates a spark that ignites the gunpowder inside the cartridge. This system replaces the flintlock, which is less reliable and slower to use."

The blacksmith stroked his beard thoughtfully. "And this would eliminate the need to prime the pan?"

Bruno nodded. "Exactly. It simplifies the loading process, allowing a soldier to fire more quickly and under harsher conditions, like rain or high humidity."

"How are we going to make that?" he followed with another question.

"I have a design here with me, drawn on paper," Bruno pulled a neatly rolled piece of paper from his coat and handed it to the blacksmith. The man carefully unrolled it, revealing a detailed sketch of a percussion cap system. The design included annotations outlining the materials required, the dimensions of the cap, and the modifications needed for existing muskets to accommodate the new firing mechanism.

The blacksmith's eyes narrowed as he studied the drawing. "This is... intricate," he said, tracing his finger along the sketch. "We'll need precise tools for this, and access to certain materials we don't usually work with—copper, for instance."

Bruno nodded, expecting the concern. "I've already considered that. My Chief of Staff will ensure you have the necessary resources, including copper, mercury, and any additional tools you might need. Also, not only we are going to change the firing mechanism, we are going to need to build at least 1000 rifles."

Bruno paused to let his words sink in. The room was silent except for the occasional crackle of the forge in the background. The craftsmen exchanged uncertain glances, but a glimmer of determination began to show in their eyes.

One of the younger blacksmiths, a wiry man with soot-streaked hands, stepped forward. 

"Your Highness, building 1,000 rifles from scratch, especially with this new mechanism, will take time. We can certainly adapt the existing muskets first to use the percussion cap system, but creating new ones... it's an ambitious goal."

"I understand the enormity of the task," Bruno replied, his tone firm yet encouraging. "That is why we will work in phases. First, modify the existing muskets to use the percussion caps. This will give our soldiers an immediate advantage. Then, we will begin production of entirely new rifles based on an improved design. 

The older blacksmith who had first spoken nodded thoughtfully. "That approach makes sense, Your Highness. Modifying the muskets will be faster, and it'll give us time to perfect the new design." 

"I appreciate your enthusiasm. Now that that's settled, let's discuss the potential problem we might face. We may have new rifles in the future but it's useless without gunpowder. Good thing, I have an idea in mind."