The ghostly invasion sounds from Dome continued without halt; every so often, they echoed in everyone's ears, piercing through their helmets and drilling clearly into their eardrums.
The moaning and wailing of the wind carried an chilling tremor, pushing the atmosphere to an increasingly detestable degree.
Fortunately, Crying Town had already come into view.
The walls were roughly two and a half men tall, earthen walls that probably wouldn't allow two people to walk side by side on top.
Most medieval towns were like this, desolate, sparsely populated, with walls so low they could hardly stop anything. A simple ladder carried by two men would easily suffice to scale them.
"Charge!" Reed turned his head to the knights on the Catastrophe Warhorses and said, "With the greatest speed, if Crying Town refuses to communicate with us, then let's storm in and kill every person who tries to resist."
They had already become frustrated and restless from staying in this environment.
