When night fell, the undead returned. The legions of warriors formed up just outside of the artillery's range. The landscape before Hueryss was utterly ruined. Explosions, and cannon shells had destroyed the grassy plains. Ruined corpses sanctified with the goddesses' holy energy lied inert. Stitched abominations, formed from the corpses of numerous creatures, were ripped apart into confusing masses of body parts. Headless vampires were unceremoniously stripped and burned outside the walls.
Within the guardhouse, Fritz and his companions stood ready to fight the next wave. The champion had done his best to supply his weapons, yet the siege had already plundered most of their gunpowder reserves. Internally, Fritz ran through the numbers as he re-evaluated his strategy. Moving the mortars off the walls, Fritz concentrated the remaining supplies on the main cannons in the guard house. His only hope lay in the gates keeping back the horde waiting outside.
Disparate warriors and the healed remnants from Javert's sacred band manned the walls where the guards could not control. Yet the walls were long. There were far too few warriors to defend its length properly. Creatures of the night would slip through into the city, and like a fox in a hen's house would feast to their heart's content.
Fritz had no choice, but to evacuate the remaining citizenry underground or station them inside the city's central keep. The plan was terrible, but he had no other options.
Gaspard led his men like a lion among gazelles. The guard stood straighter around him, snapping to attention as he walked by. The guard captain saluted Fritz as he approached.
"Champion." Gaspard said. Dark bags sagged underneath his red eyes.
"You look terrible." Fritz commented.
"Hard to sleep during the day, when you know what the night brings." Gaspard replied. Fritz nodded.
"True. How are your guard?"
"Ready to kill." Gaspard said. The man looked exhausted. There was a slower than normal gait to his walk. Yet his back was straight, and his shoulders were wide. An unshakeable look of pride calmed the guard.
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"Don't get too cocky. Still a hell of a lot of them." Neva cautioned. "It would be foolish to underestimate the liches and their pet necromancers." Brenn elbowed the graying wolfkin.
"Small victories. You have to start celebrating small victories!"
"I do."
"No you don't. Your a stuck in the mud." Brenn said. Neva grunted in disapproval.
"She's right. We've barely made a dent into their numbers." Marcelle scowled as she looked past the cannon crew. "They have a superior force. Probably endless."
"We'll be fine. So long as we can keep them out of the city. That's what matters." Fritz said confidently.
"What if they break through?" Marcelle challenged.
"Then we fight them at the barricades, and try to hold them. Afterwards-"
"That is a losing strategy." Marcelle interrupted.
"It is." Neva assented. "We would be overrun eventually."
"You didn't let me finish. In the event the gates are breached, we will retreat back to the inner castle, but only after we have evacuated the walls" Fritz looked towards Gaspard before continuing. "Gaspard, that's where you'll come in. Take as much artillery as you can and secure the castle if worst comes to worst."
"Aye. I can do that." He said.
Over past the walls, Fritz watched the undead horde. The shambling dead was like an endless sea waiting to be unleashed. His stomach wormed it's way into new and exciting knots as he waited for the next attack.
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"Thank you for your purchase of the bespoke gate-crashing package. Our esteemed guildmaster has confirmed the details and has agreed to lend his finest creation for your vengeful endeavor's. The necromancer's guild appreciates your business, Lady Rose." The hooded wight bowed, as she spread her arms in reverence. The runed black silk robes fluttered in the gathering wind. Memories of a smile failed to materialize on the wight's mummified face.
"My daughter cannot rest properly until the city is destroyed. Be quick." Lady Rose complained. Dressed in full battle regalia, she sat upon her skeletal stead. The undead horse obeyed her every whim like it could read her mind. Its eye socket exuded a faint purple magical light, as it looked straight ahead towards the gates.
"Of course. Once we establish confirmation with our liaison in Gris, we will begin the summoning ritual. Our guildmaster is most interested for you to witness his favorite pet, Grond."
"I care not for your pet. Bring the gates down and take the city. I have paid you well enough. I am sure the grotesquerie is fascinating to you necromancers. I have no interest in such profane experimentation."
The hooded wight cleared her throat to disrupt Rose von Erwenhest. It was an entirely pointless gesture.
"My lady, please leave the siege to us. We shall complete this objective shortly. The walls will fall. Trust us. The necromancer guild has nearly a one hundred percent satisfaction rate."