You gather all your might and throw the javelin at the baron. The javelin flies through the air, hungry for a target. It lands just below the baron’s sallet, piercing his neck and throwing him off his horse. The tyrant is no more!
The guards struggle on for a while longer until their situation finally sinks in: assaulted on every side, with each step they take triggering a trap, under a constant hail of stones. One of their comrades falls, then another. They hopelessly charge at the guerillas, but they cannot reach them, behind their well-fortified bastion. With their commander dead, and their enemy well prepared, the soldiers finally throw down their weapons and flee for their lives. You send off their flight with a continuous volley of stone and javelin till you are unable to reach them anymore.
Then, the unanimous sound of cheer could be heard echoing out of the forest.
“Victory!”
“We showed them!”
“Look at the cravens run!”.
The day is yours. The lads come to pick you up and begin parading you around. “Glory to the Tyrant Slayer! Glory to the Tyrant Slayer!” Those who aren’t parading you around are surrounding the baron’s body and releasing all their anger and frustration upon it — desecrating him, as he had previously done to their homes and families.