the villagers would be beating the drums and clanging the gongs as early as midnight. The sounds would be haunting enough on their own. They'd remind me again of the knights who rode their horses across the sky. They'd be announcing something, maybe the bad news of the coming evening. Because the news was bad it'd find no one to receive it. People would hide in their houses and slam their doors and go to bed. And once again, towards the end of their wild and chaotic ride, the great knights of the sky would collide.