The rakshasas, troubled by the sudden siege of their city, hurried to the palace of Ravana. There, they reported that Rama and his vast army of monkeys had surrounded Lanka. Hearing this, Ravana, lord of the night-walkers, was seized by anger. His mind filled with foreboding, he doubled his precautions and ascended to the top of his palace to see for himself. From that height, Ravana gazed out at Lanka, nestled among mountains, forests, and groves. On every side, as far as he could see, the city was encircled by countless monkey warriors, all eager for battle. The earth seemed covered with vanaras, and Ravana became lost in anxious thought, pondering how he might destroy these overwhelming forces. After long deliberation, Ravana steadied his resolve. His wide eyes fixed on Rama and the foremost monkey leaders, he considered his next move. Meanwhile, Rama, joyful in the company of his assembled army, advanced and beheld the city of Lanka, well-guarded and ringed by vigilant rakshasas. But as Rama looked upon the city, adorned with many-colored banners and pennants, a wave of anxiety for Sita swept over him. He remembered that it was here, within these walls, that Sita—the gentle, doe-eyed daughter of Janaka—lay tormented by grief, emaciated and sleeping on the bare earth, all because of him. His heart aching for Vaidehi, who suffered under Ravana’s oppression, the righteous Rama swiftly commanded the vanaras to attack and destroy their enemies. At Rama’s words, the vanaras, roaring like lions, surged forward with a tumultuous clash. “We shall scatter this Lanka with its towering peaks, or with our fists alone!” resolved the leaders of the monkey troops. Uplifting great mountain summits and various trees, they stood ready, eager to please Raghava. Before Ravana’s very eyes, the vanara divisions, their faces bright as copper and shining like gold, advanced upon Lanka armed with sala trees and mountain peaks. With these and with their own mighty fists, they battered the city’s countless ramparts and gateways. The vanaras filled the crystal-clear moats with earth, stones, grass, and wood, forging a path forward. Leaders commanding thousands, ten millions, and even a hundred million troops mounted the assault on Lanka. They crushed the golden gateways and shattered the lofty towers that resembled the peaks of Kailasa. Leaping, swimming, and roaring, the vanaras—like great elephants—rushed toward Lanka, chanting, “Victorious is mighty Rama, and Lakshmana, strong in battle! Victorious is King Sugriva, protected by Raghava!” Proclaiming their triumph, the vanaras, able to assume any form at will, surged toward the ramparts. Virabahu, Subahu, Nala, and Panasa, leaders among the monkeys, pressed close to the rampart and established the encampment. Kumuda, with ten million tireless vanaras, took up position at the eastern gate with his formidable force. For support, Praghasa and the mighty-armed Panasa, surrounded by their own troops, also encamped there. At the southern gate, the heroic Shatabali arrived, surrounded by twenty crores of warriors, taking his stand. Mighty Sushena, sent by Tara, went to the western gate, where he stood encircled by countless crores of vanaras. Rama himself, with Lakshmana at his side, came to the northern gate. There, together with Sugriva, lord of the monkeys, he stood firm with his forces. By Rama’s side stood the great-bodied, dreadful-looking Golangula and Gavaksha of immense valor, each surrounded by a crore of vanaras. Dhumra, destroyer of enemies and leader of the wrathful bears, also stood by Rama, flanked by his own crore of mighty warriors. Vibhishana, powerful and resolute, armed with a mace and clad in armor, stood with his attentive ministers amidst the great army. Gaja, Gavaksha, Gavaya, Sharabha, and Gandhamadana ran all around, guarding the monkey army on every side. Ravana’s anger now burned like fire. The lord of the rakshasas swiftly ordered all his troops to march out. At his command, a sudden, terrifying roar rose from the night-walkers. All around, the rakshasas beat their broad, moon-pale drums with golden sticks, sending thunderous sounds through the city. Hundreds of thousands of conches were blown by the fierce rakshasas, their mouths filled with wind, filling the air with their dreadful sound. The night-walkers, their beautiful dark limbs adorned with gleaming lightning-like ornaments, looked like rain clouds lit by flashes of lightning. Urged on by Ravana, the delighted rakshasa troops surged out of the city, like waves of the great ocean rising at the appointed hour. In answer, a mighty roar arose from the monkey army, echoing across Mount Malaya, filling its peaks, slopes, and caves. The blare of conches and drums, mingled with the lion-roars of the vanaras, resounded across earth, sky, and sea. The tumult was joined by the trumpeting of elephants, the neighing of horses, the rumble of chariot wheels, and the shouts of the rakshasas, as the two armies prepared for the great battle to come.