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It is no wonder that towns and cities are seldom overcome, save by treachery, subornation, or subterfuge. The trident of Clitus darted forth, one prong entering a throat. His target, arterial blood bursting forth, tried to hold to the ladder, but, a moment later, lost its grip, and fell, forcing two others, looking up, then half blinded with blood, from the ladder. Arrows, too, might be fired, largely with impunity, given the crenellations of the parapet, picking targets as they might present themselves, often mercenaries trying to advance ladders to the walls. In this way many ladders never reached the walls, sometimes because enough of their bearers were killed or wounded, or, more often, because many men, after a time, declined to bear the ladders forward. Twice, from the wall, we saw a mercenary slain by an officer, presumably in connection with some such reluctance or noncompliance, and twice we saw the officer die; in one case, men gathered about him, closer and closer, despite his protests, and, later, when the men dispersed, the officer's bloodied body lay behind, crumpled and inert; in the other case, the officer was simply cut down from behind by one man, while others looked on. Far to the right I heard a wild, eerie scream where a large bucket of flaming pitch, by means of its socketed rods, was tipped over the parapet. - (Avengers of Gor)