We grip the battering ram. Beside us are our sweaty, gasping comrades. Heave-Ho, back and forth, muscles failing, arms burning. Heave ho. The sound of heavy wood striking heavy wood booms like some terrible drum. The gates are too thick, our ram the merest twig against the barrier. Heave ho. We swing although it is futile, we swing until we are swarmed by the enemy. Our comrades fall as they are split apart. Blood splattered we continue to smash the ram against the gates. Boom. A terrible drum. Boom. Blood obscures our vision. Heave ho.
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The Shrine of Insanity 