The days passed on. Time ticked down, as the city of Hueryss settled into an uneasy anticipation. Residents fled en masse from the approaching violence. Warriors hearing the promise of conflict flocked to the city. Those that stayed pinned their hope onto Javert and Freyes' champion. The isolated elderly, orphans, the destitute, and the foolish stayed.
The church intoned upon their holy mission to fight for the city's survival. Fritz wasted no time. Weapons needed making. Cannons were assembled with the help of blacksmiths. Favors and bribes kept his war machine running. Vials and silver weapons fell from his hands like so many riches. Blacksmiths smelted cannons, and forged the few muskets for selected guardsmen. Every day, Fritz returned to the walls surveying the pockmarked landscape before the city. Cannon balls had to be collected, gunpowder needed to be conjured, beastkin needed to be trained.
Marcelle brewed potions, storing them in her dimensional bag. Her purple eyes watched Fritz suspiciously, as if he had offended the poor girl. Ada, Neva, and Brenn helped train the remaining guard. Their methods were brutal, but those that endured made extreme gains in strength.
Javert and his warriors drank and feasted, counting down the days before their glorious battle. They dreamed of a new life afterwards. One entirely immortalized in song and story. For them, the pages of history were waiting to unfold before them.
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Night rolled in, replacing the sun. Dark clouds sat upon the city, like a comforting blanket for the creatures of the night. The city grew quiet. The wind stopped. The guards patrolled the streets looking for infiltrators. The ships on the lake returned to their harbor, banding together like animals for protection.
Fritz watched from the gatehouse, a pair of binoculars trained on the horizon. Intuition and paranoia kept his eyes trained upon the horizon. Shadows formed at the outskirts of the city. Undead servants surrounded the walls. Bleached bone peaked between their armor. A myriad of ancient weapons gripped tightly in their hands as their necromantic master's called them to a halt. Skeletal horses held fully plated riders. Their ornate plate depicted a bleeding black rose proudly. Their helms formed snarling bats. Lances and longswords were held at the ready as they awaited the defenders.
The army halted, as the vampiric knights surveyed the walls of Hueryss. They encamped far outside the walls, out of range of any cannons.
Pillars of bone dug into the ground. Myriads of skeletal remains twisted together holding the pillars together. Foul magic spewed forth from those obelisks, as the robed necromancers continued their work. Dark energy pulsed into the air controlling the mindless dead.
Giant horrors of flesh and bone stood like walking siege engines behind the scores of lesser zombies and skeletons. Before them vampiric knights strode about upon their steeds surveying the city. The air went still, as Fritz anticipated the first fight.