With the audit having officially begun, Ragnar rapidly cranked the lever of his "Type-2" repeating crossbow before taking another shot at the oncoming attackers; his bolt struck through the boiled leather jerkin of an oncoming levy, pinning the man to the wooden ladder he was attempting to raise.
Right after doing so, a crude javelin was hurled from below and glanced off his munitions-grade pauldrons; if it were just a few inches higher, it would have scratched the paint job.
Ragnar quickly took cover behind the crenellations as he began to cycle the magazine again.
"Reloading!" Ragnar announced, his voice muffled by his visor. "Keep the production line moving!"
His "Range Department" was operating under the standing order of saturation fire, and as such, the firing sequence was a continuous, rhythmic hum, as Torsion Spikes thwumped at different intervals, and the "Typewriters" followed suit.
