The Sentry Bell

I scrambled out onto the thick lower bough, keeping my backpack snug and my eyes peeled for danger. Dangling from a knotted twine loop right beside the trunk hung an old brass wind chime, weathered green by moss and rain. Every fortress needs a proper alarm to rally the defenses. I braced my boots against the rough bark, drew my golden sword, and gave the longest metal tube a firm tap with the pommel. Clang! A sharp, vibrant chime echoed right through the canopy, cutting clean through the morning breeze. The perimeter has an official warning bell now, and it rings loud and true.