#howtofightwrite

Character is an itinerant-knight sort of fellow, fantasy setting, elven. He's missing a chunk of his ear on one side, having lost it in a fight -- but not in the usual way of getting it sliced. It's the reason he swears by using a helmet and will not let any of his students go ahead into battle without head protection. The premise I had was that somebody gave him a blow to the side of the head and the helmet he was wearing crumpled from the force, pinning the ear between skull and metal. When the helmet was peeled off, a chunk of the ear came with it, or was basically so pinched off and dead that it had to be amputated anyway. (It also gave him a whopper of a concussion, of course. ^^;) But if he hadn't been wearing the helmet? It wouldn't have just been the ear, it would have been the whole top of his head. Wear your helmets, kids.

Do you think the helmet would have had to be damaged in some way beforehand for this to happen? Or be of shoddy make? Or would the opponent have to be supernaturally strong? Thank you!

So, this question has been sitting in the inbox for a bit, and part of that is that I've had difficulty parsing the question. There's a few reasons for this, but a major element is how much of the above comment isn't part of the question.

I get that most of this is a setup for a simple, “what do you think of my idea?' and those are questions we generally avoid, simply because, “thumbs up, it works.” Or, if there are serious problems, it feels like punching down.

So, in answer, “it's fine.” You don't even really need to justify it with other factors. Someone swinging a hammer at your head can result in your head protection failing. I think we can safely scratch off the supernatural strength option, simply because that's more likely to turn the character's head into an improvised golf ball, rather than taking out an ear. This is a weirdly specific injury, but it's also the kind of injury that could, potentially, happen on the battlefield.

Ironically, the weakest part to this concept is just that a combat veteran wouldn't automatically value head protection unless they'd suffered a disfiguring injury which would have been dramatically worse if they weren't wearing a helmet.

Helmets get into a weird place for a lot of writers. A lot of visual media hates putting characters in helmets (even when they really should be wearing one), because it hides the character's face. There is a legitimate concern here (specifically in visual media), because if multiple characters are wearing uniform helmets, they will become visually interchangeable, so skipping the helmet is about keeping the characters more recognizable. This creates a situation where, in a lot of cases, a helmet is treated like an alternate haircut option, completely glazing over the part where it's extremely important safety equipment.

To a certain extent, the treatment of helmets as cosmetics also extends to the entirety of a character's armor. You see this anytime you have partially armored characters going into battle. In some cases, there may be legitimate reasons for omitting specific armor pieces, and not having the resources to be fully armored is always a real possibility, but skipping the head or torso armor are extremely questionable decisions.

The, “pinched off,” comment always struck me as a bit strange. It sounds like the ear was held away from the skull, with part of the helm inserted between the ear and skull, rather than held up against the head. This would be a bad idea, and a structural weakness, though depending on the exact physiology of your elves, it might not be possible for them to pin their ears against their skull. In which case their armor would need to be specifically designed around their physiology. That might mean a much broader helmet structure. For example similar to something like large flared guard on Japanese helmets, or even the ACH. Depending on the overall tech level, it's possible that the best solution would to simply have ear holes in the helmet, though this could result in a situation where ears could be cut off on rare occasions.

I suppose there'd also be some consideration for rigidity and how uncomfortable it would be to bind down their ears under a helmet. So there might be some kind of structural cutout to accommodate their ears, but again, you really wouldn't want your ears being encased in metal away from the head. Even in the worst case, with horizontal ear tips, you'd probably see helmet designs that fit over the ear, possibly even leaving the underside exposed for better hearing, rather than full metal encasement.

Ironically, having just brought up the ACH, the one place where fully encased ears wouldn't surprise me is with electronic headsets. Though, again, that's more likely to be plastic and softer materials, and would likely fit over the ear and seal against the scalp, rather than just encasing the ear itself.

Also, he'd be partially deaf in that ear. This is not, “deaf by human standards,” but impaired hearing by elven standards. Unless their ears really are just magical, and the tips are performative, it's extremely likely that their ear structure would result in improved hearing, and that's something he would lack if most of the external ear had been destroyed.

-Starke

Yes, but also, yes.

There are a lot of injuries that can result in blood in your respiratory system. The most obvious would be puncturing a lung, or bruising a lung (called a pulmonary contusion.) Also, bleeding from the sinuses that gets into the throat can result in coughing up blood (though this one is pretty benign.) As a general rule, you do not want fluid in your lungs at all, and fluid that is prone to coagulating, blocking your lungs' ability to absorb oxygen is a very bad thing.

And it gets worse, for your body to effectively expel a large glob of blood, the way you usually see in films, you would need a lot of blood in your lungs. On their own, even relatively minor pulmonary contusions have a pretty significant mortality rate. What this means is, if you're ever coughing up blood, there's about a 30% chance you're going to die.

Also as a quick aside, particularly violent coughing can result in some minor spotting from broken blood vessels. It's not inherently life threatening, but it is something that should be checked out quickly, because it can be a symptom of something worse. (Such as lung cancer.)

The way these injuries tend to get inflicted is a mixed bag. When someone's been getting beaten (particularly in the upper torso), they've been in an explosion, or a car accident, then it's not that unreasonable for them to be coughing up blood. A pulmonary contusion is a pretty plausible injury in those circumstances. And again, that pulmonary contusion could easily end up being the fatal injury.

When a character has been shot or stabbed in the stomach, then it's less plausible. There's a bit of a distinction here, because if you have serious hemorrhaging from internal injuries and that gets into your stomach, it's quite possible you'd vomit blood. You don't see this very often in film, coughing is far more popular, and in a lot of cases, you'll see characters coughing up blood when they should be vomiting. As with pulmonary contusions, this is not a symptom to screw around with, if someone's vomiting blood, they're at very serious risk of dying, and need immediate medical care.

So, is it just used for drama? Yeah. It is. Stage coughing is pretty easy for an actor, and a little bit of slight of hand with a blood pack can let them get a nice death scene in. It's not about the realism of the injury, and in most cases, aside from coughing up blood, they're not exhibiting any of the other associated symptoms (including the ones that are more common.) When someone's coughing up blood like this, they're also suffocating, because their lung can't absorb oxygen out of the air. As a result, they'll frequently start hyperventilating. Which, you'll never see in one of these scenes. The actor will lay there, deliver their lines, feign pain, and then spit up a red dye pack and relax. Which, that's not how this injury works at all.

So, yes, it is a real injury, but also, yes, this is something that is used for dramatic effect and not out of any interest in realism.

-Starke

So, there's a couple important things to note. For obvious reasons, I can't examine that specific ji, but  they usually weigh about 9lbs. Which isn't particularly heavy. Now, it is possible that the martial arts school was using a weighted ji as part of their act, or it could have been an ornate example. Even then, it would be unlikely to break around 15-20lbs. Which loops back to the original point, infantry melee weapons aren't heavy.

It is worth remembering that if you're picking up a weapon without any prior experience, it may feel much heavier than it's weight would imply. This is, in large part, because you don't know how to find the weapon's balance. As, I'm sure you noticed during the show, the trained practitioners had no problem spinning it around like a baton.

This is going to be true of most melee weapons. Even a sword, which weighs a fraction of what that ji does, may still feel awkward and heavy until you learn how to wield it.

With all that said, the ji is on the heavy side for melee weapons. That's generally true of polearms. They're large and a bit awkward (in the hands of the untrained), but the weight is still quite manageable once you learn how to hold them.

It's possible (though somewhat unlikely) the weapon was also simply too larger for you to wield. This tends to be more of an issue with being unable to effectively balance the weapon in your grip, rather than it simply being too heavy to physically lift.

With all of that said, heavy weapons do exist. One of the classic examples are parade swords, which were heavily ornamented, and could weigh up to 20lbs. The important thing to remember with these object is that they're art pieces, not functional weapons. However, the fifty pound greatsword that looks like it was fashioned out of a chrome bumper does not, and while an adult with average physical fitness could lift such a weapon, wielding one in combat would be extremely tiring.

Fatigue is the real reason you don't see heavy melee weapons. The heavier the object is, the more energy you need to expend getting it moving (or stopping it.) The more energy you burn getting your weapon up to speed, the faster you will exhaust. When you're exhausted and facing a fresh opponent, you die. (That last bit is part of why you never saw things like the 50lb greatsword. It's not enough to be able to utterly obliterate a foe in one strike, you also need to be ready for all of his friends that are waiting behind him.)

As mentioned earlier, weighted weapons can be used for shows like the one you attended. Usually the purpose is to adjust the center of gravity on the weapon to facilitate specific tricks, but I don't know if that was the case here.

Either way, what you're looking at isn't so much the amount of weight, as an unexpected point of balance. I don't know what your general physical fitness was as a teen, but lifting 10lbs should not be an issue for a 15-year-old. Consider that your winter coat probably weighed more than that ji. However, you were not expecting the weight distribution, and probably didn't know how much weight to expect. Also, while I didn't state it explicitly, weapons tend to feel heavier than they are, until you get used to them. This is a consequence of the weapon's point of balance being someplace you weren't expecting. It gets better, because it's surprisingly difficult to lift significant amounts of weight off your center of gravity. The normal exercise example of this is to lift and hold a small barbell at arm's length. If you've never tried it, (or tried to hold a gun on someone for an extended period of time), it's surprisingly difficult. No one is going to argue that 1-2lbs of weight is heavy, but when you're holding it out, away from your body, it feels much heavier, and takes more effort. So, the, “trick,” with the ji is to keep its center of balance is close to your center of gravity. That's actually pretty easy once you've started to build familiarity with the weapon, but it can result in a deceptive first encounter.

Finally, I hope it's self-explanatory, but a theatrical show is not the same as battlefield combat. A lot of the physical considerations, like the threat of being killed because you burned too much energy, aren't really a problem in a ninety minute show, where performers can rotate out. This leads to a flashier, more physically demanding performance. You couldn't take that performance onto a battlefield because, “exhausted then dead,” but it will entertain the crowds.

Which leads back to: No. Heavy weapons do exist, but their place is on the mantel or stage, not in combat. You NEVER want a weapon to be any heavier than is absolutely necessary, and in a lot of cases, when you can't get the weight down, that will diminish the value of that weapon in combat.

-Starke

Thanks!

Pros:

Firmly encourage people to maintain social distancing.

Slice people you haven't even met yet.

Slice people riding horses or standing on low roofs.

Add ribbons and streamers as fashion accessories.

Easy to carry.

Can always find one at the right length for you.

Better leverage for your blade than if it had been mounted of a katana.

Never need to explain that you're overcompensating for something.

Amazing looking duels with fellow naginata users.

You can use it on horseback.

Try to impress the Onna-musha.

Cons:

A little bit claustrophobic.

Not great in a mosh pit.

Doesn't like going indoors.

Not good against people who refuse to social distance.

No one will respect you for being a samurai, and may still make fun of you.

Still a delicate razor blade.

Fail to impress the Onna-musha, they know all your moves, are probably better at them than you, and are more interested in making jokes about the length of your shaft.

So, the naginata is basically the blade of a katana mounted on the end of a long shaft. This doesn't make it inherently bad. But it does inherit some of the weakness of a sword, combined with the range of a polearm. That said, keeping them intact is quite doable, you just need to be careful about how you strike.

As mentioned above, and as with almost all polearms, it shines in situations where you can keep enemies at range, and becomes a lot less appealing if you can't keep them off of you. This means it works really well in phalanx-style applications. As with all (or, almost all polearms), it has serious value as an anti-cavalry weapon, letting you dispatch riders.

As for it being its own unique thing, yes and no. It is a different kind of polearm, and you can probably some surviving manuals on exactly how to use them. And there is a modern martial art based on the original form. However, I don't know how much of the original Naginatajitsu martial art has been lost. As far as I know, there were at least a few decades between the, “death,” of the martial art in 1868, and it's revival sometime after 1889. Also, when it was revived, it was as a physical fitness regimen, and not as a martial art. That's enough time, to lose a lot of the technical detail, and meant that if it was preserved, it was done so quietly, which increases the risk of elements being lost.

As polearms go, the naginata is pretty light, ranging from about 3 to 8lbs. (Specifically 1.5 – 3.5kg.) Which does make it a bit more agile than you'd expect from a polearm. It's not clear how much of the flourishes you'll see from modern martial artists were actually part of the original martial art or just spectacle, but you can get some solid movement out of them. And even in its day it the weapon's agility was noteworthy. (Though, to be fully honest, I'm not sure how much of that was in the contemporary literature, and how much is from modern analysis. I do suffer from not being able to read the primary sources in this case.)

Naginatas were a very egalitarian weapon, used by the samurai, monks, peasant footsoldiers, and the Onna-musha (women warriors.) That last category has become one of its more enduring cultural associations. In fact the physical fitness revival was specifically targeted as exercise for young girls. (This is part of why the weight range is so wide, as there's a massive variance in shaft length. Anywhere from 4 to 8 feet in length. (Specifically 120-240cm.)) As a polearm, that's kinda short, but the blade itself adds another 85-100cm. This puts the total length at between 6'8” and 11'2”. And, yeah, a three meter polearm is not a joke. Even if there is an unusual amount of blade on the end of that shaft. It's part of why the naginata is immediately distinguishable from other polearms of similar sizes.

The short answer would be that it is a specific weapon, with its own identity. Some of that is a function of physics and some is cultural.

-Starke

Do you know what this style of blocking is called? Or even how to describe it? I'm not sure "holding sword parallel and using other hand to support it" covers the action.

Take this with a grain of salt, because I can't find the references right now, but I think that's just, bracing. Gripping the blade of the sword is often called, “halfhanding,” but by itself the term is usually associated with gripping the blade to assist with precision thrusts. (So, trying you'd halfhand your sword to thrust into a weak point or gap on your foe's armor.) Parrying, or blocking with a sword like this is a little unusual, and (without the full context of the original image) I almost wonder if this is an example of something you shouldn't do.

Now, with the image's detail as low as it is, it might be illustrating a very specific technique. In the case of single edged swords, the, “best,” place to parry an incoming strike is with the back of the blade. Where you've got a heavy chunk of relatively solid metal, without the danger of taking a blow on the flat of the blade. (I can't really tell, but it does look like the defender is wielding a falchion, which were single edged swords. That would also date this image to somewhere between the 13th and 16thcentury. Which, at glance seems right, but I wouldn't swear to that estimate. The design of the falchion would put it later on that spectrum. The design of the attacker's sword seems consistent somewhere in that timeframe as well, but it's genuinely difficult to judge, and while I know I've seen this picture before, I cannot remember where.)

On double edged swords, like the attacker is wielding, the best option for parrying an incoming strike is with the flat. Obviously, that's not ideal, because blows to the side of the blade do risk damaging it, especially when it's halfhanded like this and your opponent is performing a heavy hewing strike as depicted, but that's a risk. If you try to block or parry edge-to-edge, you will damage your sword, without fail. (Also, if you try to block an incoming attack edge-on-edge while halfhanding, you will injure your hand.) If you do attempt to block or parry edge-on-edge both swords will suffer damage called, “gouging.”

Remember that a sword is, basically a three to four foot long razor blade. So, while the blade itself is a relatively solid chunk of steel, the cutting edge is quite delicate and fragile. Gouging on the blade occurs whenever the sword is used against something significantly harder than a person (and can even occur from striking bone.) Abusing your sword will destroy it, and the conventional image of blade-on-blade parrying is extremely destructive to the weapons involved. This almost never occurred historically, and when it did it was either an act of desperation or incompetence.

That image of blade-on-blade parrying comes from theater. Ironically, flat edged props are much more durable than real swords, and blade-on-blade parrying is much easier and safer on stage than the historical swordfighting techniques they stood in for.

While it's not the case in this image, some specific swords (intended for combat) existed with unsharpened blades. The most famous of these is probably the Estoc (or Tuck.) These did not always have sharpened edges, and even when they did, that wasn't the important part of the weapon. Dating to the 16thcentury, these were designed to deliver thrusting blows that could (hopefully) punch through gaps in a foe's plate armor. In this specific case, blocking edge-on-edge (or even half-handing the weapon) wouldn't matter, because there was no delicate blade, (only the tip was sharpened.) Some surviving Estocs even have heavy ridges running down the flat of the blade, giving it a cross-shaped (or, in some cases, triangular) cross-section. This was specifically to improve the structural integrity of the sword while thrusting. Though it would mean that you could probably block or parry an incoming attack as depicted in the image while wielding one (though, neither of the swords in the image are estocs.) In this specific case, there wouldn't even be much downside to edge-on-edge blocking, because the estoc is unlikely to suffer meaningful damage, while the attacker's blade will likely suffer gouging.

So, if this was intended as a depiction of something you should be doing, I suspect it was to demonstrate how to parry an incoming sword strike with a falchion. Historically, falchions tended to be fairly cheap infantry weapons so this may have been intended for teaching conscripted infantry. With the image itself being for the instructor's benefit more than the conscript's. A lot of the surviving codices of late medieval and early modern sword combat were intended for professional combat instructors. So, it is reasonable to assume that this image is from one of these sources.

-Starke

The short answer is you don’t use a sword to disarm someone with a knife because you don’t need to. The match up of sword versus knife is the original, “don’t bring a knife to a gun fight.” Outside of use as an offhand parrying tool, we don’t bring knives to sword fights either.

The reason why is range. The average longsword is thirty-six to forty-eight inches. If that’s the type of sword you envision your character fighting with then that’s the distance the dagger wielder would need to travel just to break past their guard, during which time the dagger wielder would not be in a position where they could reasonably hit anything. Daggers are short-range melee weapons used to enhance hand to hand combat. The sword is a mid-range weapon. So long as the character with the sword keeps their opponent at blade point and possesses reasonable skill in keeping their guard up, the one with the dagger can’t do anything. The sword character is in more danger of the character with the dagger impaling themselves on the blade in an attempt to reach them.

Let me explain.

Despite what most fantasy literature or video games tell us, knives necessitate a very aggressive fighting style. The goal isn’t pinpoint targeting of vital organs because it isn’t necessary. The goal of knife combat is to land as many lacerations or stab your opponent many times as possible within a short time frame while, reasonably, maintaining your own safety. Why? Because it works. In the real world, it doesn’t matter so much where they’re hit so long as they’re bleeding. The more blood the better. At the end of the day, twenty stabs to the stomach is just as good as tearing through the carotid artery. Less fancy, maybe, but the stomach is a simple, easy target that can be struck with a basic bullrush. This is what makes knives such effective weapons in their home range. They’re simple to use, easy to learn, and, because the expectation is fighting unarmored opponents, every landed strike, stab, and laceration builds into deadly. Once fighters see their openings and move into range, combat is lightning fast, and the fight is over very quickly. Strikes should flow like hand to hand, moving in combinations from one to the next.

Now, let’s talk about disarms.

There’s a lot of misunderstanding of disarms by those who don’t practice martial arts. Disarms get treated like a magical panacea to end a fight. And I get it, they’re really cool to watch.

So, what are disarms?

The answer is pretty simple. Physics. They’re an extension of grappling and joint locks with the same principles applied. The body’s muscle system works on a system of pulleys. When the pulleys are disrupted, the body stops working. The goal of a disarm is to get the enemy’s wrist, fingers, arm, legs, whatever rotated on an unnatural angle and apply the right amount of leverage that forces them to let go of their weapon. Or, breaks their joint. Simple in concept, difficult in practice. And, in point of fact, it’s extremely difficult in practice.

Knife disarms in self-defense are taught under the expectation that your opponent is armed and you are not. They are extremely risky. They’re done in the hand to hand range. The catch points are in the moments before or after your opponent’s arm reaches full extension. Fail to get out of the way in time and get slashed or stabbed. Fail to move at the right moment before the elbow fully extends and get slashed or stabbed. For reference, there are variants practiced in the military that involve sacrificing body parts to the effort. When the hand with the knife is captured, the way to take it is by rotating the knife’s grip against their thumb rather than against the other four fingers. As pain is applied with the unnatural angle, the body’s sense of self-preservation kicks in to prevent dislocation and they let go.

Swords cannot conventionally disarm knives the way we’d disarm an opponent with a sword, outside of attacking the hand that holds the weapon. The knife/dagger is too short for the blades to get into a rotational lock, so it can’t be popped out of the hand in the same fencing trick we see on the Mask of Zorro, Highlander, or other swashbuckling films/shows. Besides, someone with a knife isn’t going to be fencing a swordsman.

The goal of the disarm is the negation of your opponent’s ability to fight. For those who don’t practice, it’s a nice dream. The belief that the fight ends when the weapon is removed. Unfortunately, life isn’t usually that clean.

Let’s move on to range.

In the years Starke and I have spent running this blog, I’ve noticed that one of the most difficult concepts for writers lacking in experience with weapon handling to grasp is range and its importance in combat when it comes to mixed weapons. Video games are a partial contributor here, I think, along with television. Neither handle the disparate difficulty created weapon length with any particular accuracy. And, honestly? It can be difficult to wrap your brain around the concept without visual representation or learning to gauge distance to hit.

Your swordsman is in a position to completely control the fight and negate their opponent without taking their weapon away. So long as they maintain their distance and keep their weapon in its effective range, they can wait them out if that’s their preference. They don’t need to be the more skilled fighter. The range difference provided by their sword makes up for it. That’s the difference between four to ten inches of steel and thirty-six.

Your character with the dagger isn’t completely down and out, but, regardless of their skill level, this is a situation where they are an extreme underdog. At least, if they have no special powers or abilities granted by your setting to give them an edge. They’ve also chosen not to fight on a field which benefits their weapon and fighting style.

It’s important not to internalize the idea that the sword is the better or superior weapon. It’s not. The sword has the same issue as the dagger against polearms. The sword can be undone by a wooden staff. Every weapon has situations where they shine and situations where they don’t. Weapons are situational in their use. Each one serves its own purpose on the battlefield, regardless of whether that use is more general or more specialized. They require their wielders to engineer situations or choose battlefields where they have an advantage. That’s why hyperspecialization is bad. Anime has its characters hyper specialize in order to force visual variety and, often, especially in shounen, to force its characters to fight creatively. This is a huge factor in their character arcs and evolution. It’s a useful technique to learn, just remember that visual mediums don’t translate to written with the same effect.

Michi

So there's a lot of elements here, and there's probably some physiological issues that make this less appealing than it may initially appear.

The significant advantage is probably in hit and run tactics. Flying soldiers would be an excellent skirmisher option. Able to move in without significant opposition and harass enemy units behind the front lines. Either allowing them to pick at the enemy's flanks or assaulting archers and artillery. They might be able to tie up the enemy's command, and severely limit their foes' ability to manage their own forces. Just the sheer mobility would make them difficult to deal with, and priority targets.

Weapons would vary depending on role, but ranged weapons and polearms are probably the best options, both for the flying troops, and then also the best countermeasures. Polearms would let them attack without getting into direct melee. This might be spears, or it could be glaives, halberds, poleaxes, and basically anything else. Billhooks could be pretty nasty, if they wanted to grab enemies on the ground and lift them up (assuming that's an option.)

Of course all of these considerations also apply against them. Polearms mean they can be struck and dragged down even while they're trying to stay out of reach. Ranged weapons are going to be highly effective in situations where they have no cover. An arrow through the wing will bring one down immediately, possibly seriously injuring them or killing them from the fall. Bolos, or bolo launchers of some design might also be a good idea for tangling and incapacitating the flying soldiers. Similarly, some kind of net launcher might be a very viable way for getting these guys out of the sky. However, ranged weapons in general are likely to be highly effective for one very specific reason: They (probably) can't armor their wings, and their wings will be large targets. Their wings also mean they can't pack together tightly.

With birds and other naturally flying animals, the more it weighs the larger the wings need to be. This is part of why birds have hollow bone structures. Their bones keep their weight down and allow them to fly with significantly smaller wings than they'd need if they had the same bone structure as a mammal. This means that bird people would likely be more vulnerable to violence. Either because their bones would be far more fragile in combat, because their wings would make for massive targets, or both. Now, it's likely their wings would be able to lift far more than their own weight, but the more weight they carry the more that would exhaust them, and especially weight on the wings would be tiring. (Assuming that they can armor them at all without losing their aerodynamics.) This is why your bird warriors would make better skirmishers than front line infantry, and a force comprised entirely of bird warriors would suffer from having a very fragile front line. In that case, they would be better off adopting a warfare doctrine of harassment and hit and run tactics, where they deplete enemy forces without ever committing to conventional battles. Getting into straight up fights would result in devastating losses, especially against shock tactics or heavy infantry forces. It's worth remembering that even their heaviest armor is probably going to be much lighter than the heavy armor their foes can deploy with.

When presented with a phalanx, your bird warrior's best option might just be drop rocks on them. Which might sound funny, until you consider the prospect of someone dropping 20lb stones from the sky.

There's also a weird strategic element here. Your flying soldiers (and presumably) the rest of their society could, simply, inhabit areas that are impossible to besiege, or potentially even impossible to access as part of a normal infantry campaign. If you have a settlement or outpost located up on a high peak, with no footpaths up, and any invading force would need to either fly up or climb sheer rock walls, that's going to be very difficult (if not impossible) to assault. Similarly, your bird warriors probably wouldn't need to worry about laying siege at all. They can just fly over enemy fortifications, and get to the important task of dropping limestone brickwork on their enemies, and grabbing high-value targets, taking them for an impromptu sightseeing trip, and dropping them off a little too far above the ground. These guys could be a real handful to deal with. Either as irregular forces mixed in with an enemy army, or just acting on their own, and any group dealing with them would need to seriously reconsider their fortification designs.

-Starke