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*Thoom! thoom! thoom!
The bell in the bell tower of the courthouse tolled very loud, its deep, resonant sound echoing through the village. Martin the mute, multitasked as the belltower watcher, continued to ring the bell with all his might, his arms a blur as he pulled on the rope.
The bell tower, standing tall and proud on the western facade of the courthouse, was a striking sight. Its sturdy pulley system with its securely embedded anchor weight served a crucial purpose, lifting the ready-to-assemble hwachas package and enabling the regular maintenance of the building to be done safely and efficiently.
"Harpies!" Ser Cedric shouted, his voice carrying across the courthouse. "The harpies are coming!"
Captain Willem rushed to the rooftop from the lower story of the courthouse, he saw the swarm of harpies closing in on the village from the northern horizon. He pulled out his retractable monoscope, his eyes fixed on the approaching danger.
"Everyone, man your stations!" he screamed, his voice ringing out across the rooftop. The ground unit could also hear him clearly.
"Get in position! move! move!" on the ground level, Corporal Knightly repeated the captain's orders, his voice firm and commanding.
Gilbert and the recon knights of the empire sprang into action, ready on the back of the hwachas aiming toward the incoming harpies. The captain and the corporal unsheathed their swords. the smuggler volunteers ready their arrows and bows. Old Man Jed quickly took cover at the bulkhead's entrance. Ready to repair the hwachas should they need it. Behind him was Oliver. The kid was nervous but ready to get into action.
They knew what to do, and how to defend the village against the harpies' relentless attacks. The men at arms scrambled to their positions, their weapons at the ready.
The villagers on the ground, once disorganized and vulnerable, now had the support of the knights and the volunteers. They felt a sense of relief and confidence, knowing that they had the professionals on their side. In addition, they also have experienced warriors such as Aden, Maeda, Hjalmar, Phil, and Ethan accompanied them.
Their days of terror must ended today.
Martin tirelessly pulled the rope of the bell from the ground below in the bell tower, his arms aching with the effort. Even the slow-witted mute knew that the harpies hated loud noises and he hoped that the bell's tolling would keep them at bay.
When the fight started, he was also responsible for delivering arrows to the rooftop unit, ensuring that they had a steady supply of ammunition to fend off the harpies' attacks.
Aden, Maeda, and Hjalmar, armed with spears and kite shields, stood in the courthouse front yard with the village's men. They were ready to defend the ground behind the barricade, their eyes fixed on the approaching swarm of harpies.
"Hold it!" Captain Willem measured the distance of the effective firing range with the incoming harpies.
Everyone was anxious. Their hands sweating and trembling on the trigger.
"Hwachas aim!" ordered Captain Willem. the hwachas operator aimed their fully loaded hwachas toward the northern sky where the harpies closing in.
Captain Willem stood on the rooftop of the courthouse, his eyes fixed on the approaching swarm of harpies. He knew that timing was everything, that they had to wait for the harpies to enter the effective range of the hwachas before they could strike.
The morning sky was clear, the village mist thin. The visibility was in favor of the hwachas and archers, giving them a clear line of sight to the approaching swarm.
"Listen up! Hwachas and archers, each group attack one at a time," he shouted, his voice ringing out across the rooftop. "Don't overlap, don't give them a break, and don't give them a gap in our defense."
"Sir, yes sir!" The men on the rooftop replied simultaneously, their voices ringing out in unison.
The hwachas had a further effective firing range than the archers, and it would be wasteful of arrows if they followed the shot simultaneously with the hwachas. Captain Willem knew that they had to attack one group at a time, to avoid overlapping and giving the harpies a break in their defense.
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The village's defenders held their breath, their eyes fixed on the approaching swarm of harpies. They knew that this was the moment of truth, that their fate and the fate of their village hung in the balance.
And then, the moment arrived.
"Hwacha Loose!" The Captain shouted, his voice ringing out across the village.
The hwachas roared to life greeting the harpies, their projectiles tearing through the air with deadly accuracy. The harpies screamed in pain as the projectiles struck them, their bodies torn apart by the unforgiving force of the hwachas arrows.
The village's defenders watched in awe as the harpies tumbled from the sky, their bodies torn apart by the unforgiving force of the hwachas' arrows. The sky turned red. Feathers and blood filled the air, creating a macabre dance of destruction.
As the hwachas began to run out of arrows, Captain Willem gave the order for the archers to step forward.
"Archers ready!" he shouted, his voice firm and commanding.
The archers stepped forward, their bows at the ready.
"Archers nock!" Captain Willem gave the order as the hwachas were about to run out of arrows.
"Draw!" Captain Willem raised his sword.
"Reload!" all of the Hwachas operators exclaimed almost in unison. The hwachas finally ran out of arrows.
"Archers loose!" The captain shouted with a fierce determination.
The archers released their arrows with deadly accuracy, striking the remaining wave of harpies with deadly force.
With each twang of the bowstrings, a flurry of arrows was released into the air.
The harpies, already reeling from the assault of the hwachas, now faced a barrage of arrows raining down upon them. Their wings were pierced, their bodies punctured, and their once formidable formation began to crumble.
The harpy flock scrambled in a devastatingly chaotic panic, shock coursing through their veins as they realized the ferocity of the village's defense. They had never experienced such an assault before, and the thunderous sound of the hwachas filled their heart with crippling dread.
As more arrows discharged and more harpy cries filled the air, it seemed like time had stopped for all present in that shocking moment. They desperately tried to flee from this unseen force, their primal instinct overruling any rational thought.
Several brave harpies flew in, only to be met with a hail of arrows and bolts from the archers and crossbowmen. When they flew low to escape the barrage of projectiles, they were met with a brigade of villagers prepared for battle.
Wave after wave of harpy descended upon them, yet time and again these brave defenders stood their ground. The hwachas and archers worked in harmony with each other as if they had been doing it all their lives.
The hwachas would fire, then the archers would be ready on their place to rain down a flurry of arrows. When the hwachas had to reload, the archers stepped up, covering for them with an onslaught of long-distance attacks. When the archers were taking a break, the hwachas jumped back in with another wave of arrow barrage. It was an impressive display of coordination as they seamlessly switched between hwachas and archers.
Martin and Oliver worked tirelessly, running back and forth between the lower story and the rooftop to ensure the hwachas and archers were supplied with all the arrows and bolts they needed.
Old Man Jed watched over the hwachas from the rooftop entrance, resplendent in his gambeson and imperial soldier standard helmet found in the courthouse armory.
The intense firing of the hwachas would put a strain on their mechanisms, but Old Man Jed was always ready to rush in and make repairs. With the archers up on the rooftop providing cover from any incoming attacks, Old Man Jedd could ensure that the hwachas remained in optimal condition.
With all the harpies tumbling down, they still pushed through.
A piercing shriek split the air as one of the harpies dove from the skies above, its wicked talons outstretched and aimed squarely at the stalwart form of Ser Percival. The creature's wings created a swirling vortex as it plummeted earthward in a lethal swoop.
Corporal Knightly reacted with the speed of a striking viper, swinging his steel buckler up to meet the harpy's deadly rush.
thwack!
Metal clanged against razor-sharp talons and claws as the ebony knight deflected the feathered assailant. The harpy tumbled away, slamming into the grassy courtyard in an eruption of dirt and scattered plumage.
No sooner had the first threat been swatted aside than two more winged terrors appeared on the horizon, winging their way toward their fallen kin with ear-splitting shrieks of fury. They banked low, talons outstretched to snatch up their downed comrade before any further harm could befall it.
"Corporal, watch out!" Marcus' cry of warning cut through the chaos like a blade.
Knightly spun just as one of the harpies altered its trajectory with a harsh flap of leathery wings. He raised his shield once more, but the creature's angel-like visage twisted towards him with claws stretched out in a silent scream of rage. Before he could brace for impact, an armored form slammed into him from the side, tackling him clear of the harpy's deadly path.
The two men sprawled across the blood-churned soil as wicked talons sliced through the space Knightly had occupied mere moments before. Marcus rolled nimbly to his feet, broadsword gripped in both hands as he bellowed a challenge at the circling threat.
"Thanks," Knightly gasped out, regaining his footing.
"Don't mention it," Marcus replied gruffly. In one fluid motion, he unslung his bow and nocked an arrow, aiming at another descending harpy. He loosed the shaft, then another in rapid succession, his aim unerring.
Elsewhere, the percussive roaring sound of the hwachas filled the air as their iron payloads arced skyward to wreak bloody havoc upon the winged terrors from above. Feathers and viscera alike rained down amidst the discordant symphony of shrieks, war cries, and the endless clash of steel.
It was a true melee - a battle raged on earth and in the air itself. Only the swiftest and most merciless would prevail against the relentless onslaught of tooth, claw, and blade. And with the fate of the entire village hanging in the balance, failure was not an option.
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