"Come on you brats! March faster! Those Margraves dogs are hiding in that kennel!"
"You bastards! Why are you slacking? Go! Go! Faster! Faster!"
"You dare call yourself sons of the Helvati? Hurry up and charge! Do not let up!"
"Climb up the walls! Climb up the walls without any fear! Avenge your brothers!"
"Slaughter these outsiders! For the centuries of humiliation! Kill them all…and take no prisoner!"
Such and many more scary curses were shot out loudly into the air as Metztil and other high level warriors urged their men into a battle frenzy, rushing towards the lightly walled small town that garrisoned the Margraves army.
The bloodthirst and malevolence this roughly 8,000 remaining men had was something to behold as whereas a loss of 20% of your army would have crippled most of the other forces in the world, for the Helvati it seemed only to enrage them.