It's a cool autumn day as the town withdraws to the gates, having heard from scouts that a surprise attack will be launched at dusk. As people walk into the gates, they find themselves walking around a sizeable armored machine. It's been the talk of the town since it showed up last week, having burst out of the Witchwoods at full speed nearly crushing a forager before coming to a stop. The men inside the machine were dressed strangely, and spoke a familiar, but strange dialect of English. They did not speak openly of how they got here, and rumors circle them like crows. Investigations into their journey only found that their path of destruction through the woods seems to start abruptly from a fairy ring. The three men crewing their steel chariot work quietly, just beside the gates as they flip open panels full of complex mechanisms hidden all over the iron beast.

As dusk begins to cover the town, a horn is heard from the treeline nearest the gate, and the town begins to lock down. An army of about 250 Francish men and a siege ram rush the small town from the treelines, facing as stiff a resistance as the limited manpower on the walls can provide. As arrows fly from and over the protective wall around the town, the strange men climb inside their chariot, and position themselves directly at the front gate, their weapon pointed at the door. The crew wait patiently for the knock on the door, as the ram makes contact with the gates, shaking them to their hinges. Another slam is heard as more of the Francish army gathers by the gates, dreams of plunder making them drool as they stack up. Another good slam, and the gates fall in front of the tank, and several men only have a second to wonder what that machine is before a deafening sound of thunder fills the air, throwing up dirt outside the gate as fire bursts from the small tube on top of the tank. The mood in the air changes in an instant as the brutes throw themselves out of the way of the heavy machinegun, a weapon of death they can barely fathom. Before they can formulate a plan, the tank charges forward out the gates, crushing anyone so unfortunate as to be unable to get out of the way. The fierce thugishness has evaporated and the army tries to scatter as the tank drives at full speed, flattening anyone unable to get out of the way, and firing upon anyone foolish enough to try and fight. A few of the more tenacious soldiers attempt to climb on the machine, desperately trying to smash open a hatch or damage anything that looks important, but are swept off as the main cannon rotates, and drives them to the ground beneath the treads. The army is in full retreat as their archers attempt in vain to cover the escape, forming a line to fire upon the tank, only able to scratch the paint job.

As the main cannon turns towards them, they scramble, only able to guess at what this weapon can do, but its too late. The entire battlefield shakes as the cannon is fired, leaving a crater where half a dozen men once stood, and throwing off the last of the boarders from the shockwave. Less than a fifth of the Francish army is alive, and retreating as the tank cruises back to the town's gate, and they're hailed as heroes for saving the town from a certain invasion. The amount of death dished out by their chariot was terrifying to behold from a distance, never mind when it comes to cleaning up the bodies but the people of the town are glad this murder machine took their side. As the crew takes the rest of the day to relax, they realize that they are going to run out of ammo and gas soon, and then they'll be sitting ducks, but for now they're heroes, and plan to leverage what they know about the future to take advantage of this situation they have found themselves in.

(I kinda ran out of steam here and cant figure out how to wrap it up lol)