The bombardment's opening volley was the sound of one hundred and twenty-one thundermakers firing simultaneously.
The sound was not the sound that fifty thundermakers had produced. The sound that fifty thundermakers produced was the sound that shook buildings and rattled windows and caused the capital's civilian population to pause in their daily routines and look toward the walls where the sound originated. The sound that one hundred and twenty-one thundermakers produced was the sound that ended daily routines.
The sound was the sound of the world's ceiling descending, the compression wave traveling through the capital's streets and alleys and buildings with the physical pressure that compressed air produced when the air was compressed by the collective discharge of one hundred and twenty-one dwarven-forged weapons firing iron balls at the same target at the same moment.
