"Eat this, bastards!" A triumphant cry echoed across the wall as an archer's arrow found its mark, piercing through an enemy's neck with deadly precision. The satisfaction in the archer's voice fell in the air as he watched his foe succumb, with the piece of wood sticking out of his throat , drowning in the very essence that gave him life.

"More arrows!" Another archer's urgent plea resonated through the chaos as their dwindling supply threatened to leave them vulnerable. A young boy hurriedly scurried to replenish their stock, but for now, they made do with what they had. Each arrow loosed from their bows found a target, adding to the mounting toll of the enemy's casualties.

Below the walls, the enemy drew ever closer, their advance marked by advanicng presence of ladders held aloft by determined soldiers. Arrows whistled through the air, finding their marks amidst the chaos, while stones crashed against shields and skulls alike.

A sudden thud silenced the air as a stone struck an enemy soldier squarely on the temple, felling him without a sound. His vacant eyes stared skyward, an eerie stillness settling over his lifeless form. Yet, in the face of death, his comrades pressed on, another quickly taking his place as they held the laddery as they surged forward with unwavering resolve.He came and went as he never existed, as he never lived, his remains standing on a foreign flee away from loved's tears.

After dozens of such stories, the enemy's ladders finally reached the walls, dozens ascending in a desperate bid to breach the defenses. But they were met with fierce resistance as defenders armed with maces and lances awaited their ascent. With each step closer to the ramparts, the enemy became ensnared in a deadly trap, where lethal projectiles replaced the rain of arrows, raining down upon them with unrelenting force even before they could see the face of their enemy, and that was even before they reached the top.

"Cease your throwing!" bellowed an officer of the Yarlaat mercenary company, his voice slicing through the chaos like a blade. With a pointed gesture, he directed his men's attention to the ladders ascending the walls. "Aim for those on the ladders!Forget those on the grounds "

With a coordinated effort, the defenders adjusted their aim, targeting the precarious footholds of the enemy scaling the walls. Debris, boulders, and chunks of wood hurtled through the air, finding their marks as they came down . The impact sent shockwaves through the ranks of the invaders, toppling those on the front lines and those below, their bodies crashing to the earth below with sickening thuds. Bones shattered, and lives were snuffed out in an instant, as an insect toppled by an heel.

For the besieging soldiers, there was no respite, no sanctuary from the relentless onslaught. Forced forward by the menacing blades of their own officers, they teetered on the precipice of death with every step. These were not seasoned warriors hardened by years of combat but ordinary men thrust into the crucible of war, their hands calloused from tending fields now gripping wooden staffs as they tried to make their steps on the wall in a desperate bid for survival.

Yet, survival was a fleeting hope as they faced a barrage of lethal projectiles from above, raining down upon them with unrelenting fury. In the span of a heartbeat, a farmer turned soldier could find himself crushed beneath the weight of a falling boulder or impaled by a lance before he even had a chance to set foot upon the walls.

As Alpheo surveyed the chaos of battle unfolding before him, a satisfaction settled in his chest. Arrows streaked through the air like vengeful spirits, finding their marks amidst the ranks of the enemy. Yet, even as their own projectiles struck true, the invaders' arrows either shattered against the stone walls or found their way into the heart of the city. He took pleasure in that.

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As long as those dying weren't his comrades or those under his command, he felt little remorse in witnessing their demise. In fact, there was a certain poetry to the spectacle, a cruel beauty in the inevitability of death .

Though part of him yearned to join the fray and personally dispatch a foe or two, Alpheo knew his place as the commander. His duty lay not in the act of killing but in orchestrating the defense of the city. His gaze shifted to the battering ram steadily advancing toward his position, prompting him to issue a command to the archers stationed behind him.

"Aim at the men holding the ram!" Alpheo's voice cut through the din of battle, a sharp directive that spurred the thirty archers into action. With practiced precision, they unleashed a volley of arrows upon the enemy, most finding their mark on the roof of the ram, while others struck the soldiers beneath, eliciting anguished cries of pain.

As he watched the assault, Alpheo couldn't help but grimace at the shortcomings of the city's defenses. There were no underground features beneath the walls to provide additional avenues of defense, forcing the archers to rely solely on shooting from above. In his experience, fortresses with strategically placed openings along the walls could allow archers to target the men operating the ram more effectively. Yet, despite these deficiencies, Alpheo knew that it wouldn't be the arrows that ultimately decided the fate of the ram.This was after all but a small city

As the battering ram finally reached the gate, the men surrounding it endured a relentless barrage of arrows and heavy boulders raining down upon them. Each impact tore through flesh and bone with brutal efficiency, leaving behind a trail of broken bodies.

Amidst the chaos of battle, the officer leading the assault couldn't help but emit a twisted sense of satisfaction as the steel point of the ram relentlessly pounded against the wooden frame of the gate. With each strike, they edged closer to breaching the city's defenses and laying waste to its streets.

Alpheo, observing the scene with a calculating gaze, sensed that the time for his plan had come. With a grin, he turned to his men and issued a macabre command. "Get hold of the pottery! Let's roast some meat, boys!"

The cheers that erupted from his men echoed across the walls as they eagerly retrieved jars containing fat and oil, their eyes alight with anticipation.

"Throw them!" Alpheo's command rang out, and his men wasted no time in obeying. The jars shattered upon impact, spilling their contents onto the ground below. Confusion flickered across the faces of the enemy soldiers as they beheld the strange substance, their bewilderment cut short as flaming arrows from below ignited the spilled liquid.

In an instant, fire erupted from the mix of oil and pig's fat, amidst the ranks of the enemy, engulfing them in a searing blaze of agony and terror. Men screamed in agony as flames consumed their flesh,other screamed in fear of the same happening to them , panic spreading like wildfire as chaos seized hold of the assault. The meticulously crafted formations of the enemy dissolved into disarray, their discipline crumbling in the face of the inferno unleashed upon them.The discipline that the officer built through their blades shattered as men ran everywhere.

With a triumphant smile curling his lips, Alpheo seized his horn and blew a single resounding note that pierced through the clamor of battle. At his signal, the massive gate of the city began to creak open, revealing a small group of ten men waiting only to act .

In a swift and coordinated movement, the men dashed forward, their footsteps echoing across the courtyard as they raced towards the burning ram. No man was there to stop them, nor to to protect the ram. With practiced efficiency, they spread the jars of flammable oil and fat across the surface of the siege weapon , coating it in oil and fat . Then, they threw the torches on it , the flames licking hungrily at the soaked wood.

As the intense heat radiated from the blazing ram, , the men swiftly retreatedn before the enemy could realise what was happenign , their mission accomplished. Behind them, the heavy gates of the city swung shut with a thunderous clang, sealing off the burning ram within the confines of the outer defenses.

Alpheo watched with satisfaction as the flames engulfed the ram, the city would remain in his hand , as he knew that the siege would end as quick as it started.