Merely a few days after the Abominable King had marched his forces into the lands of Francus, the leadership within the Teutonian Knightly Junta assembled together. They were not gathered to discuss intervention, nor were they here to send aid of any kind. Rather they were meeting for the annual ball held in the capitol to celebrate the 41st birthday of the Leader, Dietrich Edelweiss. Not a thought was spared for their fellow member-state in the Luminas Confederacy, not that even Francus’ immediate neighbor to the north (the likely next target should the undead claim victory) cared the slightest for the poor citizens of the doomed nation.
The high society gala was already in full swing when a single Field Marshal voiced his concern to two of his fellows. Erwin Krueger was among only a handful who cared not just for his nation but for humanity in general. He was not the typical Teutonian in that regard, or many others. Despite his characteristic blonde hair, blue eyes and tall, muscular build that was needed for him to hold any kind of office, he was far from the dogmatic supremacist that so many of his peers were.
“While we throw lavish balls, our neighbors to the west are being torn apart by the undead! We need to act, even if only to prove that we are superior!”
Ever careful to word his declaration in a way that was acceptable, Krueger bemoaned the lack of action that came from his nation. He was more afraid that the undead force would snowball and turn its necrotic gaze eastward than he was that he could be seen as a ‘traitor to purity’.
“Still, this provides us with an excellent opportunity, does it not?”
Field Marshal Richter Arschloch was one of the worst leaders a man could serve under, viewing everyone in his force as disposable, despite requiring a mandatory 5 years of training (or considerable bribes and/ or brownnosing) before being considered for joining his army. The fact that his own secret police prevented any kind of communication from his army to the outside meant no one knew what they were signing up for.
“You can’t be serious. What kind of ‘excellent opportunity’ could this possibly be?! Our fellow humans are being slaughtered like herds of cattle at a butcher’s market! Despite their genetic and cultural inferiority, it is our duty as humans to come to their aid, not stand about drinking fine beer and pretending like this isn’t a threat unlike any in the past century!”
“Watch your words, Krueger.” Arschloch spat, his eyes narrowing in contempt for the man who brought victory after victory without the massive and casualties that he himself was known for. “Our Leader would not be happy to hear your complaints, especially on this day of all days.”
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Krueger grumbled and downed his glass of Lager before storming off, leaving Field Marshal Arschloch and Field Marshal Manfred von Schlange to talk amongst themselves. Schlange was a thin man, obviously not someone who would normally be in his position, but then again neither was Arschloch. The two men were polar opposites in terms of body type, with Arschloch being short and rotund and Schlange being tall and skinny. They only got their positions through political maneuver and greased palms, but Schlange in particular more than earned his last name.
The two Field Marshals continued their conversation.
“As I was saying, this is an excellent opportunity. With Albion torn asunder by its civil war and its south now being besieged by the undead, we have a golden chance to not only defeat the undead but also to expand our borders.”
“Indeed. In fact, the opportunity may be even greater than your great self realizes. After all, the legends state that within the ruined capitol city of the former Darksol Empire lies glittering prizes of unimaginable numbers. In fact, with the dead now moving into Francus, the chance to go straight for the gold, silver, jewels and other valuables is right in front of us. All we need to do is convince out ‘glorious Leader’ to act!”
Arschloch chuckled and took another swig of his drink. He closed his eyes and pictured the riches he would have once the ruined city of Necrograd was pillaged by his forces. Of course he would also make sure that some of the plunder ‘disappeared’ or was ‘not there’, just enough to set him for multiple lifetimes and yet not enough to raise suspicions.
“An ingenious plot, my good sir. Let us go to our ‘beloved Leader’ and implant this idea within his mind.”
…
A few weeks later, Arschloch was reclining at his desk within his mansion. He knew that today was the day that he would receive word to begin preparations to invade the Gallows Woods, as this had been planned ahead of time. A knock on his door was heard loud and clear by the overweight Field Marshal, who allowed the courier to enter and present him the letter from the Leader himself. He opened the missive and read through it. He was not happy with the contents, in fact he was downright furious!
“That damned snake! To steal this glory from the great me! He swore he would arrange for my armies to invade, and yet HE is the one leading the charge! That bastard will pay for this! If it is the last thing I do I will see him torn apart for this deception!”
Little did Arschloch know that he wouldn’t need to do anything, as the Snake himself would eventually fall beneath the blades of the undead as he ran for his life in the unescapable maze that was the Gallows Woods. Even when the Snake’s armies did not return and the skulls of those who followed him to their deaths were found on the doorsteps of mothers and widows did the rage within Arschloch not fully subside. In fact, it only rose more when his hated rival, Erwin Krueger, was given the job he wanted so badly.
The fat Field Marshal would get his day to dance with the dead in due time, and he would find that his ‘Disposable Human Wave Tactics’ were not exactly as good as he had hoped they were. Whether his hated rival would perish at the Second Battle for Necrograd was something he would not know until after his own defeat at the hands of the risen Abominable King, but that is a story for another day.