The ladders were the first to dock at the walls. Even under the rain of arrows the Teutonian infantry did not falter and managed to hold themselves together. The feat was admirable, even if the motives behind the act itself were not. Spurred on by a mix of racism, ultra-nationalism, greed and belief in their beloved Leader, even the loss of more than half of their number would not have been enough to turn them back. Yes, their courage was inspiring, but the reasons for that courage were beyond despicable.

As the men clambered up the ladders, the Skeleton Archers moved back to let Skeleton Warriors move up. The Skeleton Archers did not leave the wall, they just made room for the more melee-centric undead to take their place and began to fire in high arcs in an almost mortar-like fashion at the bunched-up soldiers who waited for their turn to run the gauntlet. When the first living man finally managed to reach the top of the wall he was quickly cut down by multiple Skeleton Warriors and Spearmen who had begun to intermingle. Skeletons were not known for chivalry or honor, so it shouldn’t have surprised the Teutonians that the undead were unwilling to fight one-on-one.

And yet it did. The ultra-nationalism that surged through the Teutonians was the kind that let them believe that ganging up on a foe is correct only if they themselves were the ones doing it. Unlike for those who lived in Anglond and those who lived in what was Francus, chivalry and honor did NOT go both ways. To the Teutonians, or at least most of them, such things were a one-way street. You showed those things to them and did so out of reverence of their racial superiority, you did not expect those things from them. After all, why should the Ubermensch treat the Untermensch with ‘dignity’ and ‘respect’?

…

As stated before, this was the case with MOST Teutonians. Erwin Krueger was different. Of all the members of leadership in Teutonia, he was among only a handful who got their position not through nepotism and familial ties but via hard work and personal merit. He could give a fuck less about racial purity and the Teutonian Ideal Man and let anyone who was fit join his force. In fact, he was often given those who were deemed ‘too impure’ for other Field Marshals, and despite what was expected he excelled with these ‘lesser peoples’. He cared for his men, he wanted them to succeed, he wanted the best for them but couldn’t stop the political brainwashing that had crept its way into his army.

To him, the way people were behaving and viewing the world would only come back to bite them. But he had no choice but to tow the line and let the bigotry spiral out of control. Despite being the Field Marshal, he had no control over who was made an officer, or how they treated their men, all he could do was tell the formations where to be and what to do in order to avoid casualties. He could not keep those who were good enough for promotion but not ‘pure enough’ from being relegated to the worst positions and roles, and this made him angry. He could not be on the front lines with his men due to the Leader having forced him to take a backset driver’s position. With every ‘impure’ Teutonian that fell, there was a family that would be denied the treatment given to the families of ‘pure’ Teutonians. This was why he had designed the Blitzkrieg Tactics, to do as much damage to the enemy as possible and avoid as much death on his side as possible.

…

The men who clambered up the ladders to face certain death knew nothing of the struggle in Erwin Krueger’s mind and life. They didn’t know how they had been screwed over not by their Field Marshal but by the very nation they loved so much. None of them would know that they were always given the worst duties because they were deemed ‘impure’, they all thought that they were given these duties because their Field Marshal didn’t care for them. Their only solace in this battle was that when the siege towers finally docked there would be a bigger threat for the undead to deal with, thus giving them a chance to get up the ladders and take the fight to the undead.

The towers slowly rolled into position and the drawbridge on the top opened, its heavy iron spikes impacting the stone walls and imbedding themselves within. There was no way for the towers to pull themselves free now, they were there to stay. The Men-at-Arms filed out across the wooden bridge onto the walls and were immediately set upon by the undead. The fighting was, much to the surprise of the Teutonians, evenly matched. The solid wall of spears made the thought of jumping headlong into the fray a suicidal one, and the act of beating back the spears to make an opening would take time. Given the choice between the two, the gradual act of creating a gap was the better option, and therefore the one taken.

It was a great surprise to the Men-at-Arms that the undead were displaying this kind of strategic thinking, bunching up together to create a shield wall that made the ramparts nearly unassailable. The key word was ‘nearly’ for they were no ordinary military rabble, they were Teutonia’s second finest! Shields locked the spears into place and with swift movements pushed them aside. The gaps were slowly being made, which permitted a few brave and perhaps foolish soldiers to leave the drawbridge and stand atop the battlements. Armed with maces, a choice made specifically for this fight, the swinging of weapons began to cause the undead to be pushed back.

With every swing of the arm, bones cracked and shattered, and a small dent was made in the numbers of the undead. Things were going smoother than expected. Then the sounds of screeching were heard over the roar of battle. The skies partially darkened as Fel Bats swooped in and sent those still on the drawbridge falling to their deaths. A few Fel Bats would make these passes at a time. Acting as living battering rams they would impact one side of those in a precarious position and send the men to their right or left reeling due to the shove that rippled through the bodies that were bunched so close together.

Now even the ‘pure’ Teutonians were given pause, and that was just what the undead needed. The cycle would repeat itself for the ret of the battle. A few Men-at-Arms would make it onto the wall, then the Fel Bats would swoop in and knock a few men off the exposed drawbridge which gave the Skeleton Spearmen and Warriors enough room to cut down those who were on the wall. The regular grunts were faring no better, unable to climb the walls without taking massive casualties, they were beginning to show signs of breaking.

The final nail in the coffin for the assault was the sounding of a singular horn from the main camp. This sound had never been heard in battle before, but everyone knew what it meant due to having heard it from their countless foes. It was the signal that indicated their base camp was under attack. Just like that, morale shattered like glass and the grunts fled back to their camp, leaving the Men-at-Arms alone to face the full force of the undead. As the ‘pure’ Teutonians cursed their cowardly and ‘impure’ countrymen, they held to their duty and foolishly allowed the cycle to continue.

If they were smarter and knew what was going to happen, they would have followed suit and fled, but they weren’t and didn’t. When the last of the grunts had effectively left the battlefield, the ground erupted, and the trap was sprung. The garrison that was stationed in the city had been buried outside the walls in preparation for this. As the Skeletons and Zombies made their way to the base of one tower or another, they began to hack and tear away at the supports that kept the massive wooden constructs from collapsing. Within only a relatively short time, the supports were damaged to the point that they bucked and shattered. The towers, and the men within, came tumbling down.

The survivors were now easy pickings for the undead.