The gates of Hueryss opened. Javert's sacred band of warriors filtered through onto the pock-marked plains. Glittering arms and armor reflected torchlight onto Javert's cheery and excited scared band. Beastial ears poked out of intricately plated helmets. The myriad of steel and silver weapons were held confidently ready for battle.

The elector prince's men were a disorganized mess. The weapons were too varied to fight in an uniformed formation. Regardless, his great warriors trickled out of the city waiting for their leader to charge forward. They formed an crescent shaped blob as they awaited their great leader. Citizens stood upon buildings to see over the walls. The guard pushed back the crowd trying to get upon the city's walls for the best seats in town.

From atop the walls, Fritz leaned his elbows on the wall's parapet to watch them. Resting against the wall, Fritz's trusty shotgun sat idly. A full sleeved chain mail vest sat underneath his oversized shirt.

Surrounded by his companions, he watched Javert peacock before his troops. Armored in a golden full plate, with visible abs dented into the chest piece, he let his massive blackened steel greatsword rest upon his shoulders. The thing was a huge slab of iron, he had named 'Dragonslayer'. Fritz idly wondered why, as he waited for the assembled beastkin to charge.

Next to Fritz, his companions stirred restlessly as they waited for the inevitable conflict. Neva scowled in disgust as she looked down upon the assembled warriors. Ada was visibly excited as she stared at the assembled troops. Her eyes greedily absorbed every detail of the warriors, cataloging each and every piece of arms and armor. Brenn stood by disinterested as she looked behind her companions at Fritz's ass. Stealthily she moved behind him and reached a hand towards his cheeks, only to be interrupted by Marcelle's sharp fingernails digging into her wrists. Brenn teleported into the air upside down, she shot a hand towards Fritz's other cheek. Marcelle hissed as she defended Fritz from the unknown assault.

"There is no way he actually killed a dragon." Fritz commented dryly eyeing Javert.

"You're correct." Neva assented. "No one has not in centuries."

"What about the sword itself?"

"It's very new." Neva said. "No chance. No legends about a black greatsword either."

"Seems egotistical. It implies he could slay a dragon." Neva grumbled agreement underneath her breath.

"Fritz! Fritz! If there's still vampires, can I do something with the big cannon?!" Ada asked excitedly.

"You wanna fire it?" Fritz asked. "Sure go ahead, just remember which way it shoots. Let the guard help too. Remember the guard is prepared to cover a retreat, nothing else. Try not to get them executed."

"I will! Thanks!" She grabbed him, pulling Fritz into a quick side-hug. Ada bounced on her heels, shifting her weight from side to side as she waited. The hiss of Marcelle's long tongue reached Fritz's ears.

"What are you two doing?" Fritz asked turning around. Marcelle's long nails were digging into Brenn's wrist. The brunette ratkin was reaching towards him. She smiled guiltily, at him before letting out a nervous laugh.

Javert broke from the crowd of milling warriors, ready to address his troops. Before he could figure out what Brenn was up to, Javert began his speech.

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"My sacred warriors!" Javert began. "Today is a day to celebrate! For far too long! We have known such a dry, boring peace! But no longer! No longer will we die of old age never tasting the thrill of battle! No longer will we need to train endlessly for an enemy that shall never show! The goddess has commanded us to defend our cities! And I shall! Our glory stands before us! Before the eyes of Freyes' champion, we will fight! Tales shall be sung! Ballads shall be composed of our bravery and strength! Today we will throw back her enemies! Today we shall fulfill our warrior oath!"

Pointing his greatsword directly into the air, Javert was met with the war cries of his warriors. The enemy was forming up. The vampire's moved their battalions of mounted knights to their flanks, as they waited for the beastkin advance.

"If it becomes too much, retreat past the scarecrow!" Fritz yelled as he leaned over the walls. Pointing to a lone scarecrow directly in the path towards the gates of Hueryss. Beside it were a handful of strewn barrels and disturbed dirt. The warriors scoffed. In their minds total victory was assured.

"What's the scarecrow for?" One of the guards inside the guardhouse yelled towards Fritz.

"Backup plan. Don't worry about it, just man the cannons and mortars and wait in case things go south." Fritz yelled back.

All along the walls, mortar teams sat by waiting. The guard house was fully manned. Teeming masses of guardsmen waited by loaded cannons. The walls were manned for the worst.

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Javert's band of sacred warriors charged forward. Looking through his binoculars, Fritz watched the mass of overly enthusiastic beastkin slam into the mass of undead. The mounted vampires had withdrawn, pulling back from the main charge, as the mass of undead chaff intercepted the beastkin. Javert, for all his faults, was a good warrior. He swung the oversize black steel greatsword like a scythe mowing down his enemies. Skeletal soldier burst into a shower of bones at his weapon's touch. Zombies were bisected like fruit before a chef's knife. Javert cut a path and his loyal warriors followed suit. Monstrous horrors greeted the advancing beastkin. Abominations stitched together from the remains of myriad beasts greeted Javert's charge. The elector prince rolled and dodge past monstrous fists as his greatsword separated his enemies heads.

Only after beastkin were engaged properly, did the cavalry re-appear. Wrapping around the horde of undead chaff. The vampiric knights slammed into the beastkin's rear.

"Jesus, are they really getting hammer-and-anvil'd?" Fritz cursed to himself.

"They're getting taken in the back." Brenn said, squinting as she looked towards the battle. "Shame, it never happens to me."

"Quiet!" Marcelle hissed.

"What? A girl can't complain about her dry spell?"

"Focus. This isn't good." Fritz said. "They're completely surrounded. They're unable to reach the necromancers."

The hundred strong vampiric cavalry slammed into the rear of Javert's sacred band. Fritz let his binoculars fall. The distant tin of battle filtered to his ears. He looked around. The city was watching the battle with rapt attention. An undercurrent of anxiety was permeating the spectators. A nervous few began jumping down from buildings scrambling to get away from the walls. Neva grabbed the binoculars looking through them at the battle.

"I wanna see! I wanna see!" Ada said.

"You don't want to see." Neva grumbled.

"Bad?"

"Getting worse. They're dying." She replied.

"Fools." Marcelle cursed. "We have options... we don't have to stay... we could leave...."

"No. We're fighting. Neva stand by." Fritz said.

"Don't tell me what to do, boy." Neva snapped back. Cursing, Fritz went into the gatehouse. Gaspard sat silently on one of the cannons. His eyes beheld nothing on the floor, as he idly thumbed the pommel of his rapier.

"Get ready."

"Is my brother alive?" Gaspard let the question hang. Fritz grimaced.

"Nothing is certain yet. Have faith. We can cover his retreat. Get your men ready." Fritz approached the guard captain placing a hand on his shoulder. "We can make a difference here, Gaspard. We've got plenty of undead to kill."

The captain's wry grin, warped his face, as he stood to his feet.

"The gates will not fall." Gaspard said.

"Get the cannon's ready. Wait for my signal." Fritz said.

"Your signal?"

"You'll know it once it happens." Fritz said wryly.

Turning on his heels, he returned to his companions, walking past nervous artillery teams guardsmen.