The apprentices stood warily back. Shezmon, who had warned them that any number of cataclysms could happen when he attempted his new contraption, pulled out the object he had been working with for the last few days. It was a broad steel pipe, attached to a polished wooden handle. Into the pipe was drilled a hole, wherein Shezmon had stuffed a length of cord. Now he poured some of the Dragonpowder into the pipe, and then a single coin. Under terrified glances, he raised the strange tool, aimed at a nearby tree, and fired.
The students that stood the closest to Shezmon screamed or shouted, or just cowered frightfully, as they were splattered with blood and brain substance. Some gulped in vain, and walked slightly to the side to vomit in the undergrowth. Almost all had gone slightly deaf. One of the mages raised his voice slightly.
"Master Shezmon?"
"This is why I told you to be careful." The air shimmered weirdly around the shattered corpse, and in the blink of an eye the scattered flesh and bones had formed anew onto the cranium of the Arch-Mage.
Several of the students blinked foolishly.
"This was done with a pipe that had one single cavity, a tear no longer than an inch, no more thick than the width of a hair. I also applied a generous amount of Dragonpowder. Now you have seen what power it possessed and what perfection it requires.. I hope you understand the need for detail."
The students gulped in unison.
"Very well. Now, take this flawless pipe.." Shezmon retrieved a similar weapon, filled it with slightly less Dragonpowder, and aimed at the apple tree once again.
The
boom of the weapon almost deafened the mages again, but they could still hear the hailstorm of torn apples that rattled from the branches.
"It should be more clear than before what a weapon this is. Just be careful.. I dislike cleaning up corpses."
Some of the mages gulped again, as they realized the cold Disciple would not look out for them in any way.