Alternate history: the Anarchy of King Stephen.

[King Henry V]

Right, since Vykke's Alternate History has gone cold for these past months,~:mecry: I have decided to write a new alternate history about Stephen, King of England and Duke of Normandy. His reign was in realtiy blighted by civil war (commonly known as the Anarchy) as he fought against his rival claimants, the Empress Matilda, Countess of Anjou and her son, Henry Plantagenet (the future Henry II). However, maybe with a few good decisions by our venerable members, things might have turned out differently.
The rules are exactly the same as Vykke's: first three posters decide, first one casts the deciding vote and gets to make suggestions.
Have fun!
Alternate History
The Anarchy of King Stephen


You are Stephen of Blois, King of England, Duke of Normandy and Count of Mortain. The year is 1138, the third year of your reign. It has not been a peaceful one. It has been eighteen years since that black, cold November day when William the Aetheling, sole legitimate son of King Henry and heir to the throne of England and the duchy of Normandy, drowned with many others (including your own sister, Matilda) when his ship, the Blanc Nef, floundered of the coast of Normandy. It was a fate you yourself only narrowly escaped by having a fortunate bout of diarrhoea, preventing you from taking the doomed ship. The disaster left Matilda, widow of the Emperor Henry V of the Holy Roman Empire as heir to the throne. In order to secure Matilda’s accession, King Henry had exacted oaths from all barons and clergymen of the realm that they would recognise her as the rightful sovereign upon his death. You were one of these barons. However, the oath was made on condition that Matilda would not be married without the permission of the barons beforehand. Yet in they year of Our Lord 1128, in order to seal an alliance with Normandy’s age old enemy, Anjou, against the King of France, Matilda was married with Count Geoffrey of Anjou, without the permission of the barons. This match also would have meant that the unpopular Geoffrey would have been crowned King of England along with his wife. In effect, Anjou would have won, having its Count sitting on the throne of England, without even raising a sword.
In December 1135, King Henry died. Matilda, still in Anjou, did not make for England. Anarchy soon took hold throughout the land. None acclaimed Matilda. It was then that you seized the initiative. As the favourite nephew of the late King, you had been given extensive lands in England, the county of Mortain and the hand in marriage of the rich heiress, Maud of Boulogne. And so, in during Advent of the year 1135, you took a ship bound for England from the port of Wissant. Despite being denied entry to Dover and Canterbury, you made way for London where the citizens hailed you as their King. Having secured London, you made way for Winchester, site of the national treasury and held by your brother Henry of Blois, Bishop of Winchester. With London and Winchester under your command, only one last hurdle remained before you could safely call yourself Rex Anglorum et Dux Normannnorum. You needed to be crowned and anointed by the Archbishop of Canterbury. It was to prove the highest hurdle of all. William Corbeil, Archbishop of Canterbury, was an experienced ecclesiast and well remembered the oath he had sworn to King Henry three times and was reluctant to recognise you as King. However, help was at hand in the form of Hugh Bigod, an important nobleman of East Anglia and two other knights. They swore an oath that said that they had been present at Henry’s deathbed when he had disinherited his daughter and son-in-law for having angered and insulted him and that you were to be acclaimed as the next king.
The Archbishop accepted Bigod’s oath and on 22nd December 1135, you were crowned King of England and Duke of Normandy. The Norman barons soon followed suit and soon every nearly every major baron throughout the realm, including Robert of Gloucester, half brother of Matilda and Henry’s favourite bastard son, swore fealty to you. Even his Holiness Pope Innocent II formally recognised you as king. For that period, the future had seemed rosy.

The two years since your coronation in December 1135 and spring 1138 have not been easy. There have been rebellions in the West Country, raids on the Welsh border, incursions by the Scots and last year Geoffrey of Anjou invaded Normandy, seizing several castles which he claims had been promised as part of his wife’s dowry. You had gone to Normandy to repel him, but a fight between Flemish mercenaries and Norman barons and the latter’s departure from your army had destroyed all likelihood of battle and a three year truce was signed for which you paid three thousand marks.
You have several supporters and advisors to help you in the governing of your kingdom. These include your brother Henry, Bishop of Winchester and Abbot of Glastonbury, the Beaumont twins: Earl Robert of Leicester and Count Waleran of Meulan, Gilbert of Clare and William of Ypres, commander of your Flemish mercenaries and your chief military lieutenant.
You are residing at the Tower of London, the white stone fortress built by your grandfather William the Bastard. Sitting by the warm glow of the blazing fire in the hearth of the Great Hall, your advisors approach you with several pressing issues.
“My liege,” says Gilbert of Clare. “The Welsh continue to harass our border, attack our castles and burn our land. We must respond with force and teach these savages a lesson so hard that they will never forget. I myself would be able to raise some men from my own estates to fight against them.”
Your brother disagrees. “Noble king, Baldwin de Redvers has rebelled and seized Exeter Castle and now commits most heinous acts of banditry against the citizens of the town and the surrounding lands. And may I remind you that Exeter is also the fourth city of the kingdom, and is a valuable source of income for the royal coffers. A show of force against de Redvers would be most valuable, and would serve as an example to others.”
Waleran, Count of Meulan speaks. “My lord would do well to remember that the situation in Normandy still remains unresolved, and Geoffrey of Anjou still holds several key castles along the border. If we were to decisively defeat him in battle, he and Matilda would no longer consist a threat.”
William of Ypres offers his opinion. “King David of Scotland regularly invades England. He has seized Carlisle and Newcastle, while his forces continue to pillage the land, committing unspeakable atrocities. He also claims Matilda of Anjou to be the rightful sovereign.”

It is now time for you to decide the action to be taken:

1.Follow Gilbert of Clare’s advice and pacify the Welsh border. It would secure the allegiance of barons who have been far from the centre of power and could act as a balance against Robert of Gloucester, who is proving increasingly cold and hostile.
2. Listen to your brother Henry and quash the rebellious Baldwin. You need to show your steel early on in your reign and Exeter is one of the richest ports on the English Channel.
3. Leave for Normandy and resume war with Anjou, even though the three-year truce is still in its first year. However, most of your barons have both lands in Normandy and England, and you may lose their support should they become threatened.
4. Raise an army and march against the Scots. It would rid Matilda of a political ally and you would garner support from the northern lords.
You must decide.

[AggonyDuck]

Nr. 2 is my choice, simply because it seems like the easiest task at the moment. Secure more income and later strike at someone else. I'd wait a good while before going to Normandy.

[Strike For The South]

Do #2 it is the most safe and it will solidify your power and we all know no one can quell the welsh:charge:

[Mouzafphaerre]

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Crush Baldwin. Disregard the entire feudal customs and tradition and make a good example out of him breaking apart his body into four pulled off by four horses. :rtwno:
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[Conqueror]

Could this thread be stickied pelase? I'd like to see it stay on top. And big hurray for King Henry for starting a new interactive history ~:) Always nice to have one running here ~:cheers:

[Lord Winter]

2 we cant let the rebelion grow

[Duke Malcolm]

I am debating between 2 and 3. If one lost the barons' support, they might rebel or support rebels. However, dealing with Baldwin would show the people your character, make a good name, et cetera.

I say 2 then, one can hardly sail away when there is trouble at home...

[The Wizard]

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Crush Baldwin. Disregard the entire feudal customs and tradition and make a good example out of him breaking apart his body into four pulled off by four horses. :rtwno:
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You nasty Turk you ~D

But I must agree with you. Crush the rebels!

[Kommodus]

Definitely number 2. Deal with one threat at a time - this campaign is the likeliest one to be quick, easy, and deliver the best returns for the minimum investment. We can use the money from Exeter to wage further wars if necessary.

[King Henry V]

Attack on Exeter

“I have decided!” you announce as you rise from your chair. “Wales, Scotland and Normandy may wait until later, but I shall, nay I cannot tolerate any nobleman who rises up against me and questions my royal prerogative. I shall march on Exeter!”
You observe the faces of those around you. Your brother wears a small smile of triumph, while Gilbert and Waleran look ashen, as their lands will continue to be harassed. Only William of Ypres is expressionless: unlike your other advisors, he has no local attachment at all. Perhaps his was the right choice after all. Yet you could not change your mind now; you have made your intentions clear, and to alter them would show yourself to be weak and of feeble will. Still, de Redvers has to be dealt with sooner rather than later.
On the morrow, you give orders for the preparations for you foray into the West Country. You send word to various lords to assemble their knights and men-at-arms at Sherborne Castle, stronghold of Bishop Roger of Salisbury, chief treasurer of your late uncle’s administration. However, you have told your barons to act in the utmost secrecy, and you are ostensibly going for a hunting trip. Surprise will be one of your chief advantages.
You say farewell to your wife and leave London with a bodyguard of twenty knights and some hundred Flemish mercenaries. You are accompanied by Henry and William of Ypres. Both Waleran of Meulan and Gilbert of Clare have left for their own, endangered lands, while Robert of Leicester still remains in the Midlands on business.
As you go from castle to castle in England, through the green rolling hills of Southern England the local populace gather acclaim you. Your kind nature and your reputation for bravery in battle has earned you the steady support of your subjects, even though to all intents and purposes your are little more than a foreign prince ruling over your English subjects. However, your wife is the descendant of Edmund Ironside, one of the last Saxon kings of England and your son Eustace will be the first King to be of the bloodline of the Cercidings since Edward the Confessor almost one hundred years ago.
After a week of travelling you arrive before the white Caen stone walls of Sherborne Castle. A large host of men, supposedly various servants and attendants of your vassals, are camped in and around the walls of the castle. After partaking in a day’s deer hunting, you assemble your barons in the great hall of the castle and hold a council. Your lords inform you that you have two hundred and fifty cavalry, mostly mounted spearmen and men-at-arms, but with a core of seventy-five knights, one hundred and fifty foot soldiers of varying degrees of experience and equipment and some sixty archers and crossbowmen. To this you add your own Flemish mercenaries and bodyguard to make a good mixed force of about six hundred men. Scouts inform you that Baldwin only has half the number of soldiers, although he remains behind the strong stonewalls of Exeter Castle.
After a feast of roasted venison from the day’s hunt, you rise from your chair at the head of the table to speak.
“My lords, I wish to thank you for fulfilling your duty to me as your suzerain by bringing your men here to act under my command and to my lord Bishop of Salisbury for allowing me the usage of his stronghold, even though circumstances do not permit him from attending our council. I would like to remind you of the position we are presently in: Baldwin de Redvers, a most traitorous and malicious man, has seized the royal castle of Exeter and has pillaged the surrounding countryside, terrorising the subjects of this realm and exacting a most heavy tax on them. I will no longer tolerate his blatant rebellion and I shall march on Exeter and teach this treacherous dog that no man defies me!”
To this the barons begin thundering their fists down on the table in applause. After a few moments you raise your hand to silence them. The hall quietens down.
“I would now be most welcome to any tactics or strategies you may have to trap this viper,” you say.
A man rises from his seat. His clothes are drab and well worn and his face bears the scars of many battles.
“Sire, de Redvers garrison is currently unprepared and has grown lax. If we make a swift strike against Exeter with some cavalry we may be able to bottle up the garrison before they even have the opportunity to gather food into the castle. It would only be a matter of weeks before the castle falls. If we despatch two hundred cavalry in the late afternoon, they would arrive before dawn when the rebels are still abed. They will be trapped!” He slams his fist against his palm to emphasise his point.
The hall erupts in applause again. Silence falls after a few minutes. However, an aged, grey haired man whose wrinkles have been padded out by layers of fat begins to speak.
“My lord,” he starts as he fingers his jerkin of blue Flanders wool. “My lord de Rougehavre, » he gestures towards the previous man, “is much to hasty and rash
in his plan to quash this rebellion. The walls of Exeter are strong and a lone watchman could easily alert the garrison of the arrival of horsemen. With the gates bolted shut, the cavalry would be repulsed with severe losses. We cannot afford to lose some of our finest soldiers. Instead we should slowly advance on Exeter, until it is finally surrounded and the rebels trapped. Then and only then will your majesty’s victory be complete.”
The rest of the barons, battle-thirsty as ever, growl their criticisms of the plan. William of Ypres, commander of your Flemings, stands. You sense the barons’ hostility to this upstart bastard from Flanders, envious of the fact that you increasingly rely on his word and advice.
“Lord King, though their lordships both have valid point to their strategies, I fear their plans will let the siege wear on too long. Even if we surprise them, there are still several weeks worth of supplies within the walls of the castle itself. I propose that we meet him on the open field.”
There are murmurings of surprise through the hall.
“How in the name of God do we bring him out into the open?” inquires a voice at the end of the hall.
“We offer him gold,” says Ypres.
There are shouts of surprise and anger.
“Gold?” shouts Lord de Rougehavre. “We would be generous to offer him his life, never mind gold. Besides, every lordling throughout the country would rise up, seeing that they are to be rewarded with gold!”
“May I be allowed to finish?” asks William acidly.
The barons quieten down.
“I do not suggest de Redvers be given gold. I suggest we entice him out of strong walls into the field. The gold should be used as a bait to lure him out and cut him down. I suggest we sent emissaries to him and offer him peace with a large amount of gold. He leaves the safety of Exeter with a large body of men, with only a few dozen men remaining in the castle. We pretend to have only a few soldiers at the meeting point and when Baldwin and his men turn up, we spring the trap. Our men swarm down from the hills and overwhelm the rebels. Meanwhile, our two hundred cavalrymen will sweep down on Exeter as it left unmanned. Seeing, their leader dead or captured, they castle will soon surrender. Then you will have a true victory that will show the Countess of Anjou’s supporters that you are a king who brooks no dissent.”
The barons are silent this time as they all look as you and wait for your decision. You turn to your brother.
“Do you have any proposals, dear brother?”
“My liege, I am a mere humble churchman who has no opinions on the art of warfare.”
It is your choice to make.

You must decide a plan to capture Exeter:
1. Send 200 horsemen to sweep down on Exeter whilst de Redvers remains unawares.
2. Slowly approach Exeter. It is safe and cautious but the siege will probably take quite a while.
3. Lure Baldwin and his men out of Exeter with an offer of gold. Ambush him whilst 200 cavalry enter the city to capture it. It is a very daring plan which would pay great rewards should it succeed.

[Strike For The South]

#3 iT WOULD BE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO COOL

[Lord Winter]

1. risky cant let the calvery be cut off
2. slow we need to deal with this asap
3. risk losing the trust of the nobles

I personly say a combanation of 1-3 a feinged calvery retreat to draw them in to the feild and posibly an ambush.

[Mouzafphaerre]

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Sir Destroyer's choice would be the ideal. Even if the fake retreat fails to lure him out, it can be sold so that d'Ypre's plan can be executed as an alternative.

3 with faked retreat I say.
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[Just A Girl]

Lol cool Can i join in 2?
id say 1 if i was feeling lucky,

But i would go for 3,
he sounds like a greedy person And should well be enticed by money.

[King Kurt]

Nice story developing - in a period of English history that tends to be overlooked - for most of us we skip from Hastings and arrows in the eye to whipping the French in the 100 years war.

It has to be 3 doesn't it. If he comes, he is stuffed. If he doesn't then we move towards beseiging Exeter. I assume we have the advantage in horse so we can keep tabs on the upstart and the locals will not think too much of him due to the banditry so they will help on the intellegence front as well.~:cheers:

[Mouzafphaerre]

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:book2:

I'm on an advantageous level in this one; read the "From The Norman Conquest To The Death Of John 1066 1216" volume of a well written, albeit pro-English, post Victorian History of England. It's (legally) available for free at...

GAH!!! :gah2: They changed the website and it's no more available. ~:pissed:

Here is the record (http://catalog.case.edu/search/thistory+of+england/thistory+of+england/85%2C151%2C281%2CB/frameset&FF=thistory+of+england+from+the+norman+conquest+to+the+death+of+john+1066+1216&1%2C1%2C) anyway.

Idiots! I downloaded most of them already. ~;p
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[Duke Malcolm]

I say 3 with the feigned retreat as well

[King Henry V]

Sorry, only the first poster can make suggestions :p. Besides, I don't think Baldwin would pursue the cavalry and would mistrust any proposals by the King.

Fight at Miller’s Ford

You inform the barons that you shall undertake William of Ypres’ plan to play a game of deception with the rebellious Baldwin and that you will ambush him. The barons whisper murmurs of dissent as once again their King takes the advice of a foreign mercenary over the council of his own vassals.
You rise from your chair.
“That is my decision,” you tell them firmly.
They fall quiet. No one will dispute the word of his sovereign. You sit back down again
“So be it,” you say. “On the morrow I shall despatch envoys to de Redvers offering him clemency and gold and that he should meet me outside Exeter where we shall discuss terms. I will go personally, and be accompanied by only my bodyguard.
Shouts of disapproval break out.
“Your majesty,” implores a nobleman. “You cannot put yourself in such danger. The consequences of your imprisonment by a rebel would be disastrous! It would ruin the kingdom and plunge it into war! The realm would descend into anarchy!”
“All the more reason why Baldwin will come personally with most of his men. He will simply be unable to resist the idea of me being his captive. Besides, since the plan is so hazardous, all the more reason for it to be well planned and executed. My lord Ypres, you may elaborate on your plan.”
William of Ypres stands and begins speaking.
“My lords, one of the chief advantages we have no is that de Redvers is currently unaware that we plan an attack against him. However, in order to maintain this secrecy and not arouse fear from Baldwin, our forces should be split up. My Lord de Rougehavre should command the cavalry, as he originally suggested.”
De Rougehavre bows his head in acceptance.
“My lord, your horsemen will leave for Bampton tomorrow evening. You will travel mostly at night, resting during the day and avoiding the major roads and towns if possible. My Lord de Roussy, how long will take two hundred cavalry to get to Bampton?”
“About two days,” replies a man at the opposite end of the table, “travelling at night and keeping away from the main roads. But no more than three, of that I am certain.”
“Three days, very well. I will command the main force of infantry. However, I will travel by ship up the coast. I will land up the river Exe at high tide during darkness. My scouts inform me that there is a small stream to the east of Exeter that runs into the Exe. The Honiton road fords it by a mill. Your majesty, I suggest you travel west to Honiton on that road and you should propose to meet de Redvers at this ford. Beside the road is a wooded hill. It is there that the infantry under my command shall hide and await the arrival of de Redvers, who will undoubtedly bring many of his men to secure your majesty’s capture. However I am informed that most of his soldiers are brigands and generally low lives, who are more suited to a knife in the back than facing real soldiers in the open. So if all goes well, your majesty will be in no danger what so ever, de Redvers will defeated and Exeter shall be freed.”
This time, however, the hall remained silent.
“Very well, it is decided,” you say. “Emissaries shall be sent tomorrow to de Redvers offering terms. I shall offer him his freedom, the castle of Bampton and one thousand pieces of gold.”
There are gasps at this last piece of information.
“A thousand pieces of gold!” cries the fat lord who favoured the cautious approach. “How will your majesty find such a sum at such short notice?”
“Your lordship need not worry yourself about being taxed any further,” you reassure him. “We shall only take a saddle bag full of gold as a sample. The rest of the bags will be filled with anything that we have on hand: brass, silver, copper, tin, iron… anything which makes a satisfying clink.
“On the day after tomorrow, Lord Ypres and his men will leave for their ships at Chesil Beach, and will sail to Sidmouth, where they shall remain anchored off shore where the ships will remain until the envoy return with a hopeful acceptance of terms. I shall press for a swift meeting, saying that I must return to London forthwith, offering him more gold if he meets me sooner rather than later. I shall go to Honiton, where I will remain until the emissaries return. Meanwhile, Lord de Rougehavre will ride to Bampton, where he too will wait for my order to attack. Is everything clear, my lords?”
The barons slowly nod their heads in agreement.
“If that is the case, I think the business of this council is concluded for tonight.”
You rise from your seat and withdraw to your bedchamber.


It is a cold and misty April morning as you wait sitting on a felled tree trunk beside the stream at Miller’s Ford. So far the plan has been going successfully: the envoys which had despatched had returned with a promise from Baldwin that he would meet you at the ford, on condition that you come personally with a force of only twenty men and with the promised treasure. The “treasure” you have assembled in a wagon. However, only one red leather saddlebag is filled with the precious gold coins, the rest is a mixture of anything you could find. However, if all goes well, de Redvers will not be in a position to examine the other bags.
Ypres’ men are, as planned, lying in wait at the wooded ridge beside the road. Although it took a few days to find enough ships to carry four hundred men with supplies and the winds were at first unfavourable, this was no matter in the end as the emissary was kept for three days before being allowed to return with the acceptance to your apparently generous proposals.
Of Rougehavre’s cavalry, however, you have received no word apart from that they left Bampton last night. You hope that he will not attack prematurely when de Redvers is still in Exeter, or too late when the survivors from Baldwin’s ambushed forced will have been able to find refuge in the city and bar the gates.
Rougehavre’s horsemen are mostly light cavalry and only comprise a score of knights, since the remainder you have kept in reserve in a wood about a mile west of the ford, to cut off de Redvers retreat.
The morning wears on steadily and there is still no sign of de Redvers. Perhaps he has grown suspicious? Perhaps he has received word of a force of five score cavalry north of Exeter and he has marched out to attack? Or has he heard reports of a moonlit landing of armed men on the river?
All these suppositions and hypotheses run through your head until you hear the hooves of horses in the distance. After a moment of fear that it is Rougehavre attacking Exeter too early, you see a score of horsemen cresting a hill and riding towards you, followed by many more. Soon over a hundred mounted soldiers appear before you, all armed to the teeth with spears, swords, axes, maces, daggers and even small wooden crossbows. As you suspected, you see that Baldwin had no intention of honouring the agreement.
You hear shouts behind you. You turn and look across the stream. Horsemen also appear there, cutting your retreat.
Then things go wrong. De Redvers’s band of some two hundred foot soldiers appears and begins to climb the hill where your own infantry are hiding. This was not part of the plan.
You quietly order you men to dismount from their horses and close together to form a wall with their kite shields. Then you walk forward a few paces towards the main force of enemy horsemen.
“Is Baldwin de Redvers among you?” you ask them.
A mailed horseman spurs his steed forward and removes his helmet.
“I am Lord Baldwin de Redvers,” he says in an arrogant voice.
“It seems that either people have been telling you lies about the martial prowess of me and my bodyguard, or that your greatly care for my safety. If not, why so many men?”
The rebel foot soldiers still climb the hill.
“If you majesty,” Baldwin says the last two words with a sneer. “If your majesty comes with us now and puts down his weapons, no blood need be spilled this day. What is your answer?”
“No, I don’t think I shall,” you say simply and turn around to join your bodyguard.
The enemy soldiers reach the top of the hill and enter the tree line. After a few moments, you hear shouts of surprise and anger. The noise of steel on steel soon follows.
“Betrayed!” cries de Redvers and launches his horse down the slope towards your men. His own cavalry soon follow him.
You run back to you knights, draw your sword, lock your shield against theirs and form a tight circle as the horsemen to your rear splash across the stream and slam into your shields.
It is a close, tight and bloody fight as crouch behind your shield, deflecting the blows of sword and axe and waiting for an opportunity to thrust your sword into the exposed breasts and thighs of the enemies.
Your men fight bravely, but the sheer number of rebels threatens to crush the small bodyguard. You glance up the hill for a moment but see no sign of your infantry appearing from their own fight among the trees.
All around you men fall, mostly enemies, but an increasing number of your own men. If Ypres’ men do not come quickly, you will be engulfed and possibly killed. Something must be done soon.
Then you hear the sound of a horn. On the place that Baldwin’s men occupied stands the knights you had kept behind to cut off de Redvers retreat.
Packed tightly together, shield edge to shield edge, knee to knee and with their lances couched under their armpits and pointed downwards, they make an organised, concerted charge.
Though outnumbered by Baldwin’s men, they smash into the unprepared rear ranks of the enemy horsemen, cutting down all in their way in an attempt to free their king.
Another horn sounds and your footsoldiers appear from the trees and charge down the hill.
It is only a few moments before the rebels turn and flee the field, leaving all their wounded behind who are soon mercilessly butchered by your own men. Your knights turn and pursue the defeated rebels. However, the latter’s horses are fresher and lighter and easily out run your heavy and tired mounts.
You stagger out from your group of exhausted bodyguards with your sword covered in blood. William of Ypres and your brother appear, his clergyman’s clothes unstained by any blood. Ypres dismounts.
“My lord, are you all right?” he asks you.
“Yes, I am. By God, for a moment I thought I would die.”
“I am deeply sorry, my liege. The enemy soldiers fought hard and bravely against our infantry.”
“Never mind. We must ride for Exeter forthwith.”

The sight of Exeter stopped you in your tracks. Inside the red sandstone walls, smoke billowed up into the air in several places, especially around the castle. You cursed. Couldn’t Rougehavre control his men? He was supposed to free the citizens from the tyranny of de Redvers and his bandits, not burn their homes and loot the city. You spur you horse on to the city.
You enter the city by its main gate, the heavy doors surprisingly swung open. As you progress through the streets, you see no sign of Rougehavre’s cavalry, only the corpses of de Redvers men hacked to pieces. However, you see more and more citizens, many of them armed. When they see you and your royal device painted on your dented shield, they begin to cheer.
As you approach the castle, you suddenly realise what has happened: the citizens of Exeter, seeing their occupiers, beaten and retreating, rose up against them and attacked them in the streets as the rebels desperately tried to reach the safety of the castle. The fires were probably started by accident, as often happened during riots.
You arrive in front of the red castle walls and observe the situation before you. Two ladders lean against the wall, up which climb a mixed force of citizens and knights who were sent to pursue Baldwin. Of Rougehavre and his men there was no sign.
You turn towards the Flemish mercenaries following up behind you.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” you call out to them. “We have a castle to take!”
You dismount from your horse, draw your still bloodied sword and order some of the townsfolk watching the assault to gather some ladders and rest them against the wall. This done, you give a great cry and lead the mercenaries up the rungs.
When you reach the top, you thrust your sword into a rebel’s bowels and jump onto the battlements, followed by several Flemings. After a few minutes fighting, you clear your part of the battlements and attack the remaining rebels. Seeing this new onslaught of well armoured men, the rebels soon crumble and flee for their last refuge: the keep.
You climb down from the walls and order your men to pull of the crossbar and open the gates. A horde of foot soldiers and townspeople swarm through the gates and launch themselves against the keep. Many of the citizens carry axes, and hack open the bolted door. Then follows the awful carnage of taking a keep by storm: tight, bloody fights in corridors and up stairways. In one bedchamber you find several women and children and order some mercenaries to guard them from vengeful citizens. Finally, you reach the rooftop, and ask for your banner to be brought up. You pick up Baldwin’s flag, with you throw of the keep and replace it with your own. Your men and the townsfolk give a great cheer. The rebellion is suppressed and Exeter is once again yours.

Baldwin is found hiding under a table in the great hall and delivered before you bound in chains. You are asked to pass judgement on the defeated rebel.
“Noble king,” says one of the townsfolk. “This man has usurped your majesty’s power and committed acts of murder and robbery against your majesty’s subjects. We ask that justice be done; we ask that this man be executed. His death would serve as an example to others that your majesty is not someone to be defied. ”
Henry leans towards you and speaks softly in your ear. “Dear brother, perhaps you should follow Christ’s teachings and show a little mercy to this rebel. A cell in some remote castle would remove him from any trouble and your soul would remain unblemished before the Almighty. Imprisonment would be a suitable punishment for de Redvers.”
A woman bursts out of the keep and runs towards the place where you are seated. Her feet are bare and her hair is unbound. She flings herself at your feet.
“Most gracious sovereign,” she pleads. “Please, I beg for you mercy on my husband’s soul. He is defeated now; he no longer poses any danger. I ask only that your majesty may spare his life and have pity on my children and me. I beg that he be sent into exile.”
At this the wretched woman bursts into tears and is dragged away by your soldiers.
Then there is the question of the forty remaining rebels who have been fortunate enough not be killed immediately. The townsfolk once again favour their execution, but William of Ypres asks for their forgiveness.
“My lord, they no longer pose a threat and to kill them would be cruel and tyrannical. Your majesty does not want to lose the love of your subjects in such a fashion.”
It begins to thunder and the dark clouds discharge their heavy load of rain.
“I shall give my verdict tomorrow,” you say.

That evening, a banquet is given in your honour at the Guild Hall, where the richest and most prominent burghers toast your health.
However, there are certain issues to be resolved.
A richly dressed merchant approaches you.
“My liege, there is a certain concern over the disposal of the funds which you have taken back from de Redvers. Much of it is from the taxes that he most maliciously extracted from many of the burghers here, including myself. If your majesty would return these moneys to us, I and many other merchants would be most grateful.”
“But are there not many of my subjects around here who are now homeless, with their land pillaged and their purses stolen?” you ask. “Does Christ not ask that we feed and clothe the poor and the helpless?”
“Yes, but…”
“I shall think on it,” you reply curtly.
The merchant slinks away like a whipped dog.
Your brother walks towards you and whispers in your ear.
“Stephen, as you perhaps now, the royal treasury has dwindled much since your accession to the throne. The gold seized would do much to replenish it and pay the mercenaries you have hired for this expedition.”
You repeat that you will consider the proposals and pour some more wine.
It is then that someone bursts into the hall. He is clad in mail and his drenched cloak clings to his body.
“My lord de Rougehavre,” you say with a hint of astonishment. “We were awaiting you this morning. Fortunately the good people of Exeter were able to complete your task, and very effectively I might add. May I enquire where you were?”
It is a few seconds before he speaks.
“We got lost,” he says angrily.
“Lost?”
“We followed the wrong star when we left Bampton. By morning we ended up many miles to the west of Exeter.”
You bite your lip to prevent yourself from smiling.
“It seems you may need to be taught a few things about stars from sailors, my lord. Anyway, there is good wine and some fine beef here, if you are hungry.”
“However, my liege, there is further news. My brother-in-law, Lord Gilbert fitz Gilbert of Clare, wishes to inform you that his forces have met defeat against the Welsh and that the situation is becoming grave. I also heard that the Scots press further into your majesty’s realm, while I have just learned from a ship’s captain fresh in from Normandy that Geoffrey of Anjou has broken his truce and reached as far as Touques. All regions request your majesty’s attention immediately.”
Once again, there are many decisions to be made.

A: the fate of Baldwin de Redvers.
1. Execute him.
2. Imprison him.
3. Exile him

B: the fate of the rebel prisoners.
1. Execution.
2. Pardon.

C: the disposal of the captured funds.
1. Give it back to the burghers. They would be vary grateful and might be willing to lend you money in the future.
2. Give it to the worst victims of the rebellion. It would gain you the support of the common citizenry of Exeter.
3. Add it to the Royal Treasury, which is in bad need of funds and the mercenaries need paying

D: your next move.
1. Against the Welsh. It would bring badly needed support for Gilbert of Clare.
2. Against the Scots. A victory against them would pacify this front for many years.
3. Sail for Normandy. Defeating Geoffrey of Anjou would negate Matilda’s chance of raising support in England.
Note: for D you can choose to go personally to one region, and sending somebody else to another region to act as your deputy. You can also send reinforcements instead of going in person.

[Kraxis]

Execute Baldwin... This will make the citizens happy.

Pardon the rebels... This will show that you are a kind ruler, yet firm (see A).

Return the money to the burghers... Money are always valuable, and rich merchants always rub off on the citizens. Strong economy will help you get taxes later (see D).

Personally see to it that the Welsh are crushed. Send Ypres to stop Geoffrey, or at least oppose him long enough for you to come and end it. You need to stop what appears to be a strong Welsh incursion. The Welsh border is richer than the Scottish border and is much closer than Normandy, besides the castles up north are much stronger, they will last longer and the local nobles are stronger than those near the Welsh border. If you defeat the Welsh you might very well gain some money as well as new, cheap and quite good troops (Welsh longbowmen).
Sending Ypres to Normandy will do a lot to ease the nobles (if he is not around he will not be able to influence you) while his keen intellect will go a long way to oppose Geoffrey, win/win scenario. Later you can deal with Geoffrey.

[Lord Winter]

A.1
B.2
c.1
d. same as kraxis
When excuting baldwin make a point that it isn't just his rebellion that he is being killed for but the mistreatment of the commen people. With this it will show that you care about the common people in place of the gold.

[King Kurt]

As usual Kraxis is on the money. The only thing I might add would be that I would send De Rougehavre with Ypres - his getting lost sounds a bit too convienent so removing him from the centre of the action would deminish his influence.

Finally - congratulations on the narrative - I read the last episode not knowing what would happen - truely exciting and it caught the feeling of the time excellently.~:cheers:

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
Although only the first poster can make decisions, I can't keep my mouth shut, so here you go:

A ― 1. Execute him the Tudor way as I wrote in the first reply, although it doesn't fit in the feudal Norman etiquette. :rtwno: That would make a good example. (+2 dread. ~D)

B​ ― 1. Hang them. The commoners should also know the price of teaming with the wrong side. :rtwno:

C ― 2 & 1. A small amount to cover the most urgent expenses for the most affected and the rest to the bourgeois. Buy the support of both the commons and the gentry. The improved economy and taxes will repay it in the future. :rtwyes:

D ― Rush to Wales and send d'Ypres on to Normandie.

I'm unsure of what to do with de Rougehavre. Keeping him at hand might be better, at the cost of letting his influence at home be, than sending him away, which bears the risk of him switch sides and join the Angevines.
.

[Just A Girl]

Dont attack the welsh u swines :( Were just a lowly rabble of bandits,
Leave us alone
I dont like this story now. :)

Although Great naration has to be admitted,
as stated above

A: the fate of Baldwin de Redvers.
1. Execute him.

Rebel ring leaders should Always be delt with In this manner.


B: the fate of the rebel prisoners.
2. Pardon.
showin compasion towards these men who were following orders may earn us their loyalty

C: the disposal of the captured funds.
3. Add it to the Royal Treasury, which is in bad need of funds and the mercenaries need paying

If the mercenarys dont get payed then our forces will shurley become depleted.

D: your next move.
2.Send Ypres and Rougehavre..."can i do that?" Against the Scots. A victory against them would pacify this front for many years.

So no need to attack poor old wales (my biast towards wales is probably clouding my judgment)

3. set Sail for Normandy your self. Defeating Geoffrey of Anjou would negate Matilda’s chance of raising support in England.

I feel we need to Crush this threat before it becomes a real problem.
Also by going there in person our presence In normandy, will Surley cause rebelious talk to dwindle.

[Kraxis]

Nahhh... Burn Wales!~;)

Concerning De Rougehavre I agree that he is either incompetent or against us. But sending him away might only make it worse. Given the resentment towards Ypres might given him the chance he wants. Kill Ypres and gain popularity of the nobles, settle with Geoffrey and now support Matilda. Great...

Remember the saying "keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer". This is a case where it fits.

If he is just incompetent he might destroy what chances Ypres has of handling the situation. If he is close to you he can serve as a nice bodyguard or a reserve. His strength in melee should not be ignored, and we need to play towards our strengths and in this case it would be that.

[Duke Malcolm]

A1, B1, C2, D1

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
My liege,

Should your highness fail to provide us with the continuation of the story, we humble servants shall become determined to look to our own needs in our wicked way.

:knight:
.

[King Henry V]

No, no I'm still writing, don't worry. Just looking for a Welsh castle...
And I have been quite busy today.

[Just A Girl]

Not wales !.... Our castles Suck, Youd be hard pushed to call them a Tower compared to the english castles, GAH,
I hate history Even when i could have had a say in it the welsh get it :(

[Strike For The South]

you touch Wales I break you Henry You Anglo-Saxon Honkey:knight: ~;p

[King Kurt]

Nothing wrong with bashing Wales - it's what we did for most of the Middle Ages - sort of a training camp to get to match fitness for stuffing the French over and over again. So come on Stephen, lure those men of the valleys into an ambush with some particuarly attractive sheep, then we can get on with the real job of beating the French.

Some might say I have been influenced by all those defeats on the rugby pitch in the 1970's and 80's us englishmen had to endure, but I say not!!~:cheers:

[King Henry V]

Well historically the Welsh were very hard to catch in open battle, so I'll see what happens whe the writing spirit takes over...

[King Henry V]

Ok, the story continues:
Note: some people may find the following scenes disturbing
(Yes, I know you'll want to read it even more now!)~D
Departure for Wales

You awake next morning in the mayor of Exeter’s white stone mansion to find the storm has ceased and left behind a beautiful sunny spring morning. After being dressed by your servants, you go downstairs and eat a light breakfast of fresh fruit.
“My Lord King, it is time for mass,” one of your servants reminds you.
You ride to Exeter’s great sandstone cathedral, where your brother, Ypres, the barons, the burghers and many townspeople are all gathered for a Te Deum, in thanksgiving for the deliverance of Exeter from the hands of rebels and the victory of the King’s soldiers. Your brother even ascends to the pulpit and gives a sermon on how the Lord has put every man in his place and that to rise against one’s King is to commit a sin against the Almighty Himself. A great “Amen” sounds throughout the cathedral.
After mass, you proceed through the great oak doors and form a great assembly outside on the green. You sit on your throne on top of a makeshift dais, and pronounce your verdict on the fate of de Redvers and his men, who are kneeling down, there hands tied behind their backs. You glimpse de Redvers’ wife in the forefront of the crowd.
You rise from your chair and begin to speak
“Lords, ladies, citizens of Exeter! After much thought and deliberation, I have decided my verdict on these men here assembled.”
The crowd holds their breath.
“Baldwin de Redvers,” you say. “Through the power invested in me by God, I hereby find you guilty of murder, robbery, rape and treason against your lawful sovereign. As befits such evil crimes, you will be executed by hanging, drawing and quartering. All your lands, fiefs, holdings and castles are hereby the property of the Crown.”
Baldwin’s wife screams and falls to her knees, crying. The traitor only keeps an expression of arrogant contempt, as though any judgement made by you will have no effect on him.
“May the Lord have mercy on you soul,” you murmur under your breath.
As de Redvers wife is led away, cheers break out from the crowd. Justice has been done, they shout.
You then pardon the rebels, on condition that they swear an oath of absolute loyalty towards and agree to fight for you in your next campaign. You say that if you find their service satisfying, you will allow them be free. They all swear the oath.
After the assembly, another feast is given in your honour at the Guild Hall. After the endless courses of meat, fish, vegetables and many other foods, you rise from your seat and call for silence.
“My lord barons and burghers, grave news of repeated raids on the Welsh border compel me to travel there and raise an army to crush this impudent scoundrels. I will depart tomorrow morning for the Marcher Lands.
“I wish to thank the barons for answering my call and furnishing soldiers for my command for this campaign. However, I shall no longer be needing your support for the present time, and you may all return to your homes to watch the corn ripen. For the coming campaign, I will enlist the support of your neighbours to the North, who have not yet met their obligations towards as their suzerain. However, I may need your services again in the near future, either at home or abroad. Like the Devil, traitors and enemies are omnipresent. Once again, I thank all of you for your brave service.”
Afterwards, you summon the Abbot of a nearby monastery for a quiet talk.
“Father,” you say. “I shall grant your house a small sum so that you have the money to feed, clothe and house the worst victims of this rebellion. Will you and you monastery be willing to take on this necessary burden?”
“Noble King, it would be an honour,” the Abbot says.
He bows and walks away.
You inform the merchant who approached you yesterday that the funds captured will be returned to the much-wronged burghers of Exeter.
“May the Lord bless your majesty for all eternity,” he replies with a broad smile.
You then ask a servant if he has seen Lord de Rougehavre.
“My lord de Rougehavre is outside in the yard, your majesty” he informs you.
You go outside to the yard where you find de Rougehavre, his cloak fastened and his riding boots on, waiting for his groom to bring him his horse.
“Leaving so soon, my lord?” you enquire in a light-heated tone.
“Err, yes, err immediately. Business to be attended to at home,” he laughs falsely.
“But my lord, you haven’t even seen any battle,” you say.
“Yes, but I brought my men for your service and you have dismissed all the barons,” he says nervously.
“But, my lord, all the other barons fought. You, on the other hand, got err, lost, as you said yesterday.”
De Rougehavre looks uneasy. His face is pale, and he fidgets endlessly with this cloak.
“My Lord de Rougehavre,” you lean forward and lower your voice. “There is talk among the other lords and knights that you panicked at the last moment and got lost deliberately.”
Rougehavre’s expression changes to outrage.
“I know these are most horrible lies,” you say, “but nonetheless, it would be foolish to ignore them, at the risk of making other people believe these falsities.”
“Yes, but-.”
“My Lord de Rougehavre, what say you to accompanying me with your men on my forthcoming campaign against the Welsh? It would give you a chance to prove these malicious slanders are false and there is much booty and land to be won. And you horsemen would be most invaluable against this band of bandits. I give you my word that I shall release in time for the harvest. So, what say you?”
He gulps. “My liege, it would be an honour.”
You smile. “Excellent. Do you wish my servants to help you unpack?”
De Rougehavre mutters a grudging thanks and you turn away, pleased with yourself that you handled that situation ably. You are not entirely sure of his loyalty and besides; you need his eighty or so cavalry in the coming campaign.
A servant approaches you and informs you that it is time for the execution of de Redvers.

A great crowd is yet again assembled to watch the execution of their former lord. This time, however, the event will take place before the castle, which now formally belongs to you, as does much of the Isle of Wight and the vital castle at Carisbrooke.
A rickety wooden scaffold has been erected on the green, and you have taken your seat on top of the battlements that had been the scene of carnage only the day before. As you sit down in your seat, the crowd beneath gives a great cheer. However, this soon turns to booing as the castle gates are opened and Baldwin is led out, dragged through the mud by a pair of horses, feet first. Stones and a whole manner of filth are pelted at the rebel, along with curses and insults.
Baldwin reaches the scaffold, his feet are unbound and he is led up the stairs to the platform. When he reaches the top, a noose is tied round his neck and he is lifted into the air, hanging. His body jerks and twitches in the air. He is dancing the hangman’s jig. Just as his body begins to calm, he is cut down at the rope is loosened. De Redvers gulps for air.
He is then placed on a large wooden table and his limbs are tied to four posts and each end. The executioner cuts open Baldwin’s jerking, takes a huge knife, and carves his chest open. You cringe as de Redvers’ deafening cries sound. But you must force yourself to watch. Not to do so would be to invite scorn that the King himself is not happy with his own justice.
The executioner takes a smaller knife and cuts away the traitor’s intestines, which he removes and places on a burning fire. Baldwin’s screams have turned to piteous whimpers of pain. You can see the life draining out of him as his genitals are cleaved off and finally, his feebly beating heart is removed. His agony is at an end. However, the executioner’s task is not yet completed and with an axe he severs the still limbs and ultimately, the head.
As the masked executioner wraps up his macabre equipment, many of the crowd push forward to dip rags and handkerchiefs in the pools of the traitor’s blood to take as keepsakes. The limbs and the head are wrapped up individually in cloth and are left to you for you to distribute them throughout the land as a grim reminder of the fate of those who rebel against their monarch. You decide to leave an arm here in Exeter, where he committed his foul deeds and send the other arm to London, a leg to Dover and a leg to York. The head you order to be impaled on a lance and it will serve as a gruesome banner when you ride through Robert of Gloucester’s lands, and finally into Wales.

You leave early next morning, escorted only by your small retinue of servants, the survivors of your bodyguard, your brother Henry and Lord de Rougehavre with his men. The pardoned rebels who have sworn their oath of personal allegiance you will follow you later, accompanied by fifty men from Exeter who have enlisted in your service. They will meet you in Monmouth, which will be your main base for the duration of the campaign and the assembly point for the barons and their vassals of the region.
You had bid farewell to William of Ypres the day before and given him orders to sail for Normandy with all the Flemish mercenaries who had fought in the crushing of de Redvers’ rebellion. He is to act as your representative in France until you are ready to deal with the Angevins personally, and you have given him money for the hiring of more mercenaries should he need them and orders to the Norman barons that they must obey his orders, or face the full might of your fury. After the fate of Baldwin, you are fairly certain that they will comply.
Your journey through Somerset is brisk as you party is entirely mounted and you arrive in Taunton by noon on the next day. You then ride across the marshes of Somerset, until reaching the great port city of Bristol, stronghold of Robert of Gloucester. Your reception here is colder, more hostile, reflecting their lord’s attitude towards you. They stare in silence at the rotting head of Baldwin de Redvers and cross themselves.
From Bristol you take ship down the Avon and climb up the Severn Estuary until you reach the mouth of the river Wye and ride the final twenty miles to Monmouth. You reach the town about a week after setting off from Exeter.
The small border town is full of camp followers, soldiers, knights and barons from the counties of Worcester, Hereford, Gloucester and also the Welsh Marshes. Also present are the many civilians who have fled the ravaged borders to seek refuge in the city.
Ever since conquest of England by your grandfather William the Bastard and the subsequent advance into Southern Wales, this area has been a hotspot of skirmishes and raids. King William tried to deal with the problem by entrusting local power to lords such as Robert of Montgomery, giving them a great deal of independence to deal with the wild Welsh, and these lords thus rely little on your word or command. Furthermore, two of your predecessors, King William II and King Henry, both had little personal success on the Marches, leaving behind an unsatisfactory situation.


A council of war is held in the Great Hall of Monmouth Castle. Robert Beaumont, Earl of Leicester is present, as is Gilbert of Clare. Robert of Gloucester is absent, apparently sick with the flux. One of the Marcher barons gives a report on the state of affairs: the Welsh harass the border, burning castles and villages, stealing cattle and sheep, slaughtering civilians and ravaging the land. Their raids reach deeper into your realm, growing bolder and larger in size. Efforts to retaliate against the Welsh have proved useless. They come, they burn, and they leave. He also informs you of your troop numbers: five hundred spearmen, one hundred and fifty men-at-arms, one hundred and twenty archers and a hundred knights. You ask for the barons for their opinions and the course of action to be taken.
Robert of Leicester speaks. “My liege, these savages have no knowledge of the art of siege warfare. If we build more forts and castles along the frontier we will build an impenetrable wall. Properly garrisoned, any hint of incursion will be detected and properly repulsed.”
“I disagree,” says Gilbert of Clare. “The Welsh are cunning and wily. They can quite easily slip through any barrier. These castles and forts will be useless. Instead I propose that we emulate the Welsh. We should split up our forces into small, mobile bands that can catch these slippery eels. Our men are better armed, better trained and better disciplined than these bandits. The Welsh will quail before our real soldiers.”
The lord who summed up the current situation, Lord Roger Fitzwilliam, rises and speaks. “My lord, the Welsh are currently moving from their winter lands into their summer ones. The crops are still in the fields, and their food is growing short. Furthermore, if we capture the Welsh stronghold at Dinas Bran, the local Welsh chieftains will be forced to bow down and swear fealty to you. If we advance up the Wye valley, we can burn the lands and crops of the Welsh, starving them and it will ultimately force them to surrender. The fortress of Dinas Bran will also serve as an excellent strongpoint to subdue these rebellious savages.”
A baron from Gloucester gives his opinion. “Your majesty, the cost of a major campaign in Wales and even the construction of castles and forts will be very costly to the royal coffers. Perhaps if we give the Welsh some gold they will make peace, for a while at least, leaving your majesty to deal with more pressing matters elsewhere.”
The fate of the Welsh Marches resides in your hands.

A The strategy for the Welsh campaign:
1.Build a string of fortifications to seal off the Marches from Welsh incursions.
2.Split your army into small, mobile troops to respond to the guerrilla tactics of the Welsh.
3. Advance into the heart of Wales, burning the land and capturing the castle of Dinas Bran, in an effort to bring the Welsh to terms
4. Pay the Welsh money for peace, so that you may attend for more urgent matters, such as in Scotland or Normandy.

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
4 ― :charge:

GAH! Wrong option, I meant 3: Attack, burn, pillage, loot, hang, cut!... :charge:
.

[Kraxis]

I was inclined to go with 2, but given that we do not know how strong these incursions have been, but do know that they have been getting stronger (thus can't be very small), I think it would be risky... It seems 3 is the only viable option since both 1 and 4 cost more money than we have currently, and it is rightly accessed that castles and forts will have little impact, also they take some time to build.

With 3 we might force the Welsh to defend themselves, a fight we are bound to win due to superior training and equipment. Also, this way we can gain some needed funds from looting (and foraging will help keep costs down). Lastly when/if the Welsh give in they might be suitably inclined to grant you some light infantry and good archers.
The only problem this has is that they might just evade us and make up for their losses by raiding, or they might attempt an ambush, which could be dangerous if they have suitable numbers.

[King Kurt]

I think 3 - to bring the Welsh to battle. We must be aware of the chance of ambush, so keep the army close and well prepared. I would be tempted to level Dinas Bran and then withdraw back to England. With no crops they must attack us or increase their raiding - making it easier to catch them. If that doesn't work, perhaps an attractive herd of sheep could be used as a lure~:cheers:

[Duke Malcolm]

3, most certainly 3

[King Henry V]

Oh well, the Welsh members have lost there chance to prevent the ravaging of their country.~D

[King Kurt]

Oh well, the Welsh members have lost there chance to prevent the ravaging of their country.~D
Obviously a new flock in town~:joker:

[Kraxis]

Hmmm... this seems like a case of a battle where the Welsh didn't turn up to defend their homes. "Huh, was that today?"~;p

[Strike For The South]

Oh well, the Welsh members have lost there chance to prevent the ravaging of their country.~D

you will pay:duel:

[AntiochusIII]

The choice is decided, what value do my words carry?

A Medieval world requires a Medieval ways of war: 3, with the majority I go.

With love or fear, you have to choose how your reputation is made. And fear is always safer. How do you inspire fear? Simple... :devil:

Nice story, King Henry. ~:)

[Randarkmaan]

We must show the Welsh our strenght, paying them off would only convince them that we are cowards and they would soon attack again. It is time to be as ruthless as they are, kill the savages, show them no mercy!
...God wills it!(just had to...)


...option no.3

[King Henry V]

The great hall is silent. All the barons wait upon your decision. You rise from your seat. You address the council.
“My lords, the time has come for action to be taken against the Welsh. Their incessant raiding has brought great destruction and death upon the realm and I will no longer allow such acts to continue. To this aim I shall take command of an army, and march on the Welsh stronghold of Dinas Bran. I will wreak the Almighty’s vengeance on these savages and teach them a lesson that they will never forget. For centuries to come, they will remember never to enter the kingdom of England.”
Cheers erupt. A campaign into the heart of enemy territory will gain much in the way of booty and the thirst for retribution of the Marcher lords will be slaked.
On the morrow, the usual preparation for a campaign is made. Bread is baked, blades are sharpened, arrows are made and even more men are called up. All told, you have an army of about fourteen hundred men to lead into Wales, including de Redvers former soldiers and a troop of soldiers formed and equipped by the citizens of Exeter. Though it is not a great army, it should be enough for a brief foray into Wales.
However, there are still certain issues be resolved.
Firstly, there is the question of supply. The Marcher Lords favour that the army lives off the land and takes any food that it will find. The harvest is still in the fields and you may find enough food there to sustain your forces. This will reduce the cost of the expedition and make supplies easier.
However, Robert Beaumont, Earl of Leicester, prefers the army to be supplied from your cities such as Monmouth, Hereford and Shrewsbury, as well the many forts and castles which line the border. Enough food should be guaranteed, but the Treasury will have to spend more money for the supplies.
Secondly, the route that your army will take is still undecided. There are two possible roads for an army to march to Dinas Bran:
Advance up the Wye valley. This river that flows through Monmouth and Hereford, has its source high in the Welsh mountains. However, most of its course is a fairly gentle ascent up its broad valley. However, it is quite a long journey, giving the Welsh more time to prepare.
March up the Usk valley. This river also has its source in the Black mountains, but the valley is much narrower and its slope steeper. However, it a much shorter march from the last outposts of your kingdom to Dinas Bran and could catch the Welsh off their guard.

[Duke Malcolm]

The former for supply -- forage from the damned Welsh.
The latter for route -- take the damned Welsh off guard.

[DemonArchangel]

If you except to live off of the land, the Welsh could just use scorched earth tactics on you and starve you. Bring supplies.

Do the slow ascent. Someone named Manuel once marched through a narrow pass to save time. Something called Myriokephalon happened.

[Lord Winter]

Supplies 1 we need to move fast and supplies trains would slow us down, leaving us open to hit and run attacks from the welsh. Plus the supplies would probly be lost in a couple raids.

Rout 1 The other is too risky if we are caught in an ambush

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
The Welsh can't really do much scorched earth since they need the harvest themselves more than us. So, we should use the local supplies, which will have the side effect of being able to starve the enemy on their soil. Take what we need and destroy the rest.

Take the longer route. We will be vulnerable to enemy ambuscade in their land already.
.

[Mouzafphaerre]

The former for supply -- forage from the damned Welsh.
The latter for route -- take the damned Welsh off guard.
.
Don't believe him, he's a Welsh spy! :rtwno:

~D
.

[Just A Girl]

GAH!

You could have waited for me,
Ive been busy

:(

You should have
1.Build a string of fortifications to seal off the Marches from Welsh incursions.

Now your burning and pilaging.

GAH!!!

"wheres my pot of Woad and my Short bow"


Trying to stay Neutrall now.

Personally I would Not Risk supplys.
The troops may get Restless not knowing If they will eat properly Once in to wales,
There should Always be A supply of food available. If there is food in the feilds Then by all means Eat that as well,

But Not seting up a supply rout becous Your Think you can get food when you arive. Is not worth the risk.

And id go the longer way round,

Its likley that a welsh scout May spot us traveling up The steeper slopes In the valley and I dont Relish the idea of being Down hill to a lot of welsh gurillas Who have Short bows,
And also be unable to flank them

[Lord Winter]

yes but it is a bigger blow to moral if the supply trains are destroyed. Which i dont doubt the french could do while we have to drag supplies up passes crossing rivers and what not. plus we have added mobility without them. So it all balances out.
Edit: I hate leaving supplys behind but we cant afford them now

[Mr White]

What a wise council

Now for my opinion:
The supply question is a hard one. Leaving without food and such into relative unknown territory is always risky. On the other hand, as some said, the supply train will slow the expidition down to much. A third option is to go ahead and let the supplies catch up with the main force when they prepare for the battle. Allthough a valid compromise ( not in the least for the treasury) it would, in my opinion, take to many men to guard and escort it.

On the question about which rout to take, I'm in favor of the long safe rout. We will venture in relative unknown lands. The Welch, who knows the area well and uses guerilla like warfare, will be eager to ambush the English.

[King Kurt]

Supplies - live off the land - should be plenty of sheep around, the welsh will not kill those, they are like family. Also relatively this is not a long distance to go - this is Welsh Wales, not the sahara we are crossing.

Route - has to be the long safe way - we want them to know we are coming, because we want them to come and fight.:san_laugh:

[King Henry V]

To march up the Wye would take about another one to two days march, as there is also a plateau to cross between Dinas Bran and the river.

[Ludens]

Taking no supplies only works when you catch the Welsh by surprise, else they will destroy the crops and take away their flocks. Similarly taking the fast route but being lumbered down with supplies won't work either.

Since Wales is ideal for guerrilla tactics, I would want to spend as little times as possible there. The question is: can we take Dinas Bran in a short span of time? If a siege is likely, I would go well supplied and by the long route. If it is not: take the short route and minimal supplies.

Great idea, King Henry V!

[King Henry V]

Dinas Bran is situated high on a hill. It is made of stone, though the last reports said there were not in a good state of repair. However, this might not be the case if the Welsh have time to refortify it again.

[King Henry V]

I just want to let you all know that my Welsh history is quite poor, so please excuse me if I make any mistakes.:san_embarassed: The same goes for my knowledge of 12th century banners and coat of arms, so I will probably make mistakes about the devices of King Stephen and the barons. However, if anyone knows anything about either points, please don't hesitate to post.

[Just A Girl]

Dont worry
Il forgive you if you make mistakes :)


But remember That the welsh Defeted the english and vanquished them to the sea and lived happily ever after :D "honest Guv.. "
(worth a try)

[King Kurt]

But remember That the welsh Defeted the english and vanquished them to the sea and lived happily ever after :D "honest Guv.. "
(worth a try)
I thought the only time that happened was at Twickenham and the Arms Park in the 1970's. Also I only remember the defeats, not the happy ever after!!:san_rolleyes:

[Ludens]

Dinas Bran is situated high on a hill. It is made of stone, though the last reports said there were not in a good state of repair. However, this might not be the case if the Welsh have time to refortify it again.
Thank you.

Well, since the decision to attack has already been made, I opt for a quick advance without supplies through the fast route. Time is not on our side here, so lets not waste it.

Not that my vote make a difference, anyway ~D .

[Just A Girl]

Thank you.

Well, since the decision to attack has already been made, I opt for a quick advance without supplies through the fast route. Time is not on our side here, so lets not waste it.

Not that my vote make a difference, anyway ~D .


Lol none of mine have yet either,
But its fun to voice your oppinion,

[Kommodus]

I've missed the chance to comment on the last few developments here, so I'll do so quickly now:

1. I would actually do a combination of the two supply options: bring some supplies, but also take what you can from the Welsh. I doubt they'll use scorched earth tactic, but even so it would be unwise to rely on foraging for all our supplies.

2. I would take the Wye valley, the longer but safer route. Two or three days difference is not too significant, and the risk of an ambush in the narrower valley is far too great.

[Mr White]

I am waiting impatiently for the next chapter of this tale. Common don't leave us hanging right in the middle of the story

[Mouzafphaerre]

I am waiting impatiently for the next chapter of this tale. Common don't leave us hanging right in the middle of the story
.
+1 :yes:
.

[AntiochusIII]

Now, now. Where is King Henry? He should not leave the Welsh waiting. :san_undecided:


...


+1 :san_grin:

[King Henry V]

I'm on a much deserved holiday in Vienna, still recovering from my exam period! This thread is very much alive, just have been struck with a cold for the past few days and I did not really feel like writing. Also I had forgotten my password for the net cafe account, so I had to sort that out! The final piecfe of the chapter is being written, but by hand as I am not going to spend valuable internet time thinking about ideas, so I will have to type the last bit on to the computer´, which should happen in the next two days or so.

[Kraxis]

A cold? A thing I know at the moment... *roark*

Good to see you back if only for this comment.

[Strike For The South]

see Henry you dont mess with the welsh https://img520.imageshack.us/img520/2382/walesflagf7hy.th.gif (https://img520.imageshack.us/my.php?image=walesflagf7hy.gif)

[King Henry V]

No woad painted, sheep loving spirit is going to keep me down, so here's the continuation. Sorry for the delay.:embarassedg:
You depart with your army at dawn the next day, taking the road to Hereford. You have sent messengers ahead to order supplies to be prepared, which will be assembled at Hereford that is to be your main base for this sally. Your brother gawps at the money this will cost the Treasury, but reluctantly agrees.
You arrive in Hereford after two days march, and you are pleased to see the many bags of corn, dried meat and fish, hard cheese and twice-baked bread. There are scores of heavy carts to carry all the food, and heavy shire horses to pull them. A score of creditors harass Henry for payment, which he grumblingly gives. The gold you have captured from Baldwin de Redvers is fast diminishing.
On the morning of your departure, you attend mass in the cathedral, followed by a blessing of the army by the Bishop of Hereford. Your army leaves the city at noon, making sure that many of the camp followers are left behind. You bid farewell to your brother. He is to stay behind at Hereford to oversee the despatching of supplies, as his counsel will not be of much use for this military affair. You will miss him, as he has been one of your staunchest supporters, especially in the beginning of your reign. You send the severed head of de Redvers to Gloucester with your complements to Earl Robert.
As you near the border, the land becomes more and more desolated. Scores of villages and forts lie burned, the fields blackened and the livestock slaughtered, the rotting carcasses attracting swarms of flies to feast on the putrid flesh. More and more refugees flee from the borders. They all tell the same accounts of death, rape and robbery.
You spend the evening at one of the isolated border forts that dot the region. You can see from the charred section of the wooden walls that the castle has not been saved from attack. The castellan is a tanned old soldier, a veteran of the wars in Normandy against the King of France, the Angevins and William Clito, son of the late Duke Robert of Normandy, claimant to the throne of England. He offers you some advice for fighting against the Welsh along with a thin vegetable stew.
“Sire, be wary of those Welsh out there. They will be on their own ground; they will know the lie of the land and will use that advantage to the utmost. They may be savages, but they can be hardy fighters. Do not underestimate them, nor their bow. We have few archers who can match them in speed and accuracy.”
After another two days you finally cross the border into Wales and begin the slow ascent up the valley. You cross the Wye, swollen by heavy rain and the melting mountain snow, at an old timber bridge that has miraculously survived the retaliations made by the Marcher Lords. Indeed, during your first day’s march into Welsh territory, the desolated land seems little different from that on the English side of the bloody frontier. And it hardly ever stops raining. You sometimes wish you were back in Blois or Normandy.
As you advance deeper and deeper into Wales, you decide to array your army into a more cautious formation. The infantry and the archers form the centre, protecting the precious supply wagons from attack. Forming the vanguard is a mixed body of knights and light cavalry, lead by a pair of experienced English guides who have a knowledge of the territory. De Rougehavre’s horsemen flank the column, protecting the ever-vulnerable sides from ambush. Your rear is protected by the mounted mercenary spearmen. You also have a German engineer and several carpenters to build siege engines for the predicted assault on Dinas Bran.
There is little human presence, not even any Welsh scouts or bowmen to pester the army. However, the more you advance, the more you get a feeling of being observed.
You have now entered the Welsh lands that have so far remained untouched by border warfare. You decide to make up a force of 40 light horsemen, 20 knights. This force will advance ahead of the main column, fanning out to capture any more food and ravage the land ahead. They return after an afternoon’s pillaging laden with food and plunder.
You awake next morning at dawn and climb a nearby hill to get a vantage point for the day’s march. Palls of black smoke rise up into the sky over the horizon. Th Welsh are burning their own land, in an attempt to deprive you of food. Soon all that your forages find is the scorched black earth left behind by the retreating Welsh. The closest you come to any fighting is when a tiny band of archers decide to shoot their arrows at you. They thud harmlessly into the ground, injuring no one.
After another five days march, you turn west from the Wye and begin the ascent up to the high plateau that lies between the Wye and the Usk.
You have now eaten through more than half of your supplies, and you will have to send some of cavalry to return with more once you have laid siege to Dinas Bran.
Tens days after having left Hereford, you ford the Usk. Set against the blood red sky is the imposing fortress of Dinas Bran. Situated high on a steep hill, it can only be approached from one side, by a narrow path that winds its way up the crag.
You decide to ride further on with your bodyguard to inspect the castle more closely. The rest of the army is ordered to conceal itself in a wood next to the river.
There is no apparent life in the castle. Indeed, it is still very much in the ruinous state the last reports about is had said. The stonework is crumbling and several sections of the wall are nothing but piles of rubble. Even the wooden gates are rotting. Still no man appears on the battlements to inspect what this band of armoured horsemen does before the castle. You ride back down the hill to the forest. Your decision is made.
“My lords!” you shout. “Assemble your cavalry. We attack forthwith!”
There are shouts of surprise at this decision.
“Calm yourselves. Either there is no one in the castle or they are all asleep. An old woman could push open those gates. We must seize this chance!”
The attack is to be made only by your mounted soldiers, so as to act with speed and surprise. Five men armed with axes will ride ahead and open the gates in time for your horsemen to stream through and take the castle.
At first, everything goes according to plan. The axe men break open the rotten doors and you lead your men charging through the gates, yelling the screams of battle as you thunder into the yard. You expect to see at least a few Welshmen lounging in the yard, yet there is not a soul in sight.
You order some soldiers to dismount and scour the rest of Dinas Bran for any sign of life. After a while they return.
“The place is empty, my liege. From what we can see, no one has been in here for several days,” they reply.
The rest of the army moves into the fastness as darkness begins to fall. You and the barons occupy the sole habitable building, a large stone tower. A servant scrapes the thick carpet of bat droppings that covers the tower’s floor and lays down a bed of fresh straw from the carts. You eat a supper of roast chicken before going to lie down on your bed, your mind still puzzled by the day’s events.

“My Lord, my Lord!”
You awake from your sleep and gaze blearily at a servant standing before you.
“Yes?” you mumble.
“My Lord, the Welsh! They are upon us!” the servant shouts.
“What?” you exclaim and jump from your bed, all tiredness forgotten. You wrap your cloak round your shoulders and run outside. You scramble up the walls and reach the battlements. It is then that you see exactly what the servant had been so nervous about. A multitude of Welsh spearmen and archers crest the eastern hills of the valley and march towards the castle, while more assemble at the crag’s foot.
“When did you first notice them?” you ask Gilbert of Clare, who is guarding the walls with his men-at-arms.
“A lookout first noticed them at first light,” he replies. “At first we thought it was only a small war band, but when their numbers got larger I thought it was best to warn you, Lord King.”
“How many have arrived so far?”
“Last time I counted it was nearing fifteen hundred, and they’ll be more to come.”
“Dear God,” you say.
“May He heed your prayers, for I think we shall be needing every bit of help we can get,” Leofric remarks and strides away.
Shouts of surprise sound from the gate where your bowmen are stationed. You look over the walls to see a small band of Welsh spearmen are jeering at you, taunting you to come out and face them. A volley of arrows is loosed from the gatehouse and cut several of the warriors. They decide it would be best to withdraw
You climb down from the ramparts and assemble a meeting of all the barons. It is held in the ancient keep and you are all seated on barrels of wine and sacks of corn.
“My lords,” you begin to speak, “As you know, the Welsh savages are massed underneath our walls as we speak, now numbering over two thousand. Action must be taken forthwith. I will be most grateful for any advice you have to give.”
Robert of Leicester stands and speaks.
“Sire, the situation now is precarious. If your majesty were to remain here much longer, your royal personage may be in danger. Lord King, I suggest you depart immediately. You could raise an army; smash these savages and relieve the castle, taking with you most important advisors naturally.”
“No!” you shout. “No! I will not heed such cowardly counsel! I will not abandon these soldiers because some impudent noblemen fears for his skin!”
Leicester sits back down again, his head bent in shame.
At this moment, a man-at-arms bursts into the room.
“My lords!” he cries. “A relief force of knights has appeared. We are saved!”
There is a general hubbub in the keep as you all file out into the yard. You climb the ramparts to see for yourself what is happening. There is indeed a force of about three hundred knights and men-at-arms marching towards the valley. Their banner is too distant, though, and you cannot quite see who leads the soldiers.
“It is my Lord of Gloucester’s men!” shouts a young squire on the battlements.
“What?” you exclaim and peer more closely to see the coat of arms on the banner.
The last news of Robert of Gloucester was that he struck by the flux in Oxford, preventing him from joining you at Monmouth.
Finally, the force’s pendant is close enough for you to see the heraldic device. It is indeed the three golden hawks on the blue field of Robert of Gloucester. You watch closely as the knights near the Welsh. Then, your heart stops. A group of horsemen at the head of the column ride forward towards some Welshmen mounted on their large horses. They clasp each other’s hands and some embrace. It is clear to you what has happened.
“That treacherous rogue!” you cry and storm away.
Robert of Gloucester, it seems has betrayed you and joined forces with the Welsh.
Your suspicions are confirmed later when a horseman rides up to the walls to parlay. It is none other than the Earl himself. As it begins to raing yet again, he stops and addresses the soldiers massed along the ramparts.
“My lords, you see before you a man of clear conscience. I have pondered endlessly on what actions should be taken; yet in the end I decided to act upon my sense of justice. I, Robert Fitzroy, Earl of Gloucester can no longer owe my allegiance to a man who has perjured himself, a man who has stolen the crown from its rightful holder. I can no longer swear fealty to that usurper, Stephen of Blois. My allegiance lies with the Empress Matilda, Countess of Anjou and rightful sovereign of this land. In doing so I have lost no honour: one cannot be oath sworn to a perjurer, a man who has broken his own oaths of loyalty to their lawful suzerain, and to God.
“This usurper has not only followed the counsel of his perfidious foreign mercenaries and favourites, his vile henchmen have made many an attempt on my life.
“To this end, I have allied myself with our Welsh neighbours who have also suffered most grievously because of this tyrant’s cruel lust for blood.
“However, my quarrel is not with any of you, solely with the usurper himself. Anyone who wishes to join me can be free to do so and I will welcome them with open arms. However, those who will remain loyal to Stephen of Blois will be marked as my enemy. I shall wait until nightfall for your answers,” Robert says and rides away.
“Shall my crossbowmen try to shoot a bolt through his neck, my Lord?” a baron asks.
“No, that is not needed,” you reply. “He has come to parlay and I will honour his right to come and leave unharmed.”
You reconvene the council again to decide on what to do.
“If any man wishes to join my Lord Gloucester’s forces,” you say, “then they may leave forthwith. However, I would like to warn you that any alliance with the Welsh comes with a price. And who knows how much land and gold they have demanded this time. It is truly a large army: some soldiers have said that they have seen the banners of Powys, Dyfet and even far away Gwynned. What do you think they asked for in return for their spear? Mayhap the whole of the Welsh Marches?”
“That is impossible,” says one of the Marcher Lords, refusing to believe that his land is in danger. “Robert of Gloucester himself has lands in the Marches.”
“Robert Fitzroy is the richest baron in England,” you say disdainfully. “What does he care about a few trivial acres, when if his conspiracy succeeds, he will be the Countess of Anjou’s chief lieutenant and be the most powerful lord in the realm?”
“Are we doomed then?” Guilbert of Clare enquires.
“No, not yet. We still have fourteen hundred good, experienced soldiers. And I’ll warrant that any one of our soldiers is worth two, if not three of those barbarians, if we play our hand well.
“However, if you decide to join Robert of Gloucester, let it be known that you not only weaken your King, you strengthen the Welsh savages, who have been our constant enemy these four score years. Think on that before you decide.”
A baron rises. “Sire, it is with a heavy heart that I must join the Earl of Gloucester. He is the father of my wife and I cannot bring myself to fight against my own father-in-law.”
“My lord, you forget that Robert fitz Roy is my cousin,” you retort. “Nevermind, you are free to leave. I will have no man here who does not fight for me willingly.”
The baron bows and leaves.
In total, three barons and seven knights with their retinues decide to join Robert of Gloucester, nearly all connected either by blood or by marriage to him, or who find their lands almost completely surrounded by the Earl’s fiefdoms. They take with them one hundred and sixty soldiers, leaving you in command of an army twelve hundred men strong.
After the last of the turncoat barons leaves Dinas Bran, you order the presence of the chief captains of the army.
Before asking for their counsel, you sum up the situation.
You have enough food to last for another four days, perhaps eight if your susbsist on half-rations. With the Welsh blocking all approaches, the hope of being resupplied from England is an impossible thought. Indeed, the supply carts which were expected to arrive within the next couple of days have most probably benn cut down with their escort.
You, are the least, ten days march through hostile territory from the nearest friendly outpost, marching down the Usk valley since the Wye has been ravaged and will yield no more food. The Welsh will be unlikely to burn the crops along the Usk as it will be the last important fertile valley they have left untouched in Powys, and they will not risk a famine.
You have an army of twelve hundred men who you will have to pit against a horde of two and a half thousand warriors, many of hwom wield the feared Welsh war bow. The Welsh are also supported by three hundred heavily armoured soldiers under the command of Robert of Gloucester.
The castle is in a very poor state of repair. In several places the wall is only a pile of rubble two men high and the gate is only blocked by a pair of heavy wagons.
There is no well in the castle and the supply you have brought with you will run out in four days.
The situation is dire.
“My liege,” says Gilbert of Clare, “perhaps if we attempt to parlay with the Welsh we will be able to negiotiate some terms. If we offer enough gold, we may cause dissent among their ranks which will leave Robert of Gloucester isolated.”
“Lord King, the time for chattering and bribing has long passed,” Lord Roger fitz William interceeds. “It is now time to wip these Welshmen. I say we attack tonight, while they are abed. The only way they can defend against a concerted attack is by forming a shield wall. Deny them this chance and they will break and run for their lives.”
Robert Beaumont objects. “Your majesty, the risks of undertaking a night attack are too great. The assault could easily turn into a chaotic brawl in the dark. Our few precious forces could become lost and be cut down piecemeal. Insteas, I suggest that we abandon Dinas Bran, sleight it before we leave if that is at all possible, and march back to England. May I remind your majesty that Robert fitz Roy’s defiance is a far more pressing matter than some petty raiding, much of which was against the traitor’s own lands.”

1. Negotiate with the Welsh to see what you may obtain from them.
2. Launch a nocturnal attack against your foe’s camp.
3. Render the castle indefensible and retreat to England.

If you have any other strategies to suggest, please go ahead.

[Ludens]

The Welsh have all the advantages, so negotiating with them will cost more than we can afford. A nocturnal battle seems a good way to win, but they are probably expecting you to do that. Beating a tactical retreat seems the best option, but they will harry you all along the way and it will cost you much prestige. I therefor suggest trickery.

Try to stage a breakthrough attempt, leaving part of the army at the castle. If you manage to break through, turn and attack the Welsh rear while the castle troops also advance. If the breakthrough fails, feint a rout, lure the Welsh to the castle, and then attack.

This strategy is dependent on the Welsh commanders not having much control over their troops, so more information on the Welsh army, its formation, tactics and commanders would be appreciated. If my intuition is wrong and the Welsh do have disciplined force, I'd go with a carefully planned nocturnal advance, preceded by several probing attack to throw the Welsh off guard.

[Mr White]

1) We can't afford to bribe the Welsh.

2) the only viable option but very risky if the Welsh don't run right away.

3) this is politically impossible, you risk losing the precious support that you have now.

So I agree with Ludens to use some form of trickery but I don't agree with his plan. If we send only a part of our army we make it the Welsh to easy to isolate a part of our men. I would suggest some kind of diversion with some fast cavalry so we can hit the Welsh in the rear or at least while they are disorganised. I just hope the battle ends fast so we don't get in a slugmach with Gloucesters' men while the Welsh can surround us and target us with their bows unharmed.

[Lord Winter]

2
Send Calvary around the flanks in an attempted to cut off the archers while your own archers hold your front. Then take your infantry and hit the other flank hard or keep them in reserve depending on how the battle goes.

[Ludens]

So I agree with Ludens to use some form of trickery but I don't agree with his plan. If we send only a part of our army we make it the Welsh to easy to isolate a part of our men. I would suggest some kind of diversion with some fast cavalry so we can hit the Welsh in the rear or at least while they are disorganised. I just hope the battle ends fast so we don't get in a slugmach with Gloucesters' men while the Welsh can surround us and target us with their bows unharmed.
Good point. But I am bit unsure what you are suggesting as an alternative. Whatever we do, we have to create major chaos in the Welsh army and then hit them hard.

[Lord Winter]

compltly agree, i favor a Chansolorville or Canne type battle plan to defeat them.

[AntiochusIII]

We have no choice but to fight. Negotiations or full-scale retreat would cost you dearly. The Welsh might be tough fighters and dangerous bowmen but this we can fight with our cavalry...if the traitorous knights don't pin us down. So it is of primary importance that an initiative has to be gained and capitalized on to a full effect.

The only choice is a night attack, even if they expect us to do exactly that. I guess cavalry diversionary tactics can work.

Can we have more information on the discipline and nature of the Welsh army that surrounds the castle?

What do you great advisors (hehe) think of the idea of making it look like you attempt to ride with the cavalry to break through the siege while leaving most of your forces behind (sending out bodyguards, dressing up some loyal barons)? That could work as an excellent diversionary tactic IF the Welsh/Gloucester falls for it since they will try to capture the "king."

[Lord Winter]

Lets not send in all our Calvary. Lets keep some back to strike there opposite flank hard.

[Mr White]

What do you great advisors (hehe) think of the idea of making it look like you attempt to ride with the cavalry to break through the siege while leaving most of your forces behind (sending out bodyguards, dressing up some loyal barons)? That could work as an excellent diversionary tactic IF the Welsh/Gloucester falls for it since they will try to capture the "king."

I was thinking exactly that when I suggested a cavalry diversion.

[Mr White]

I couldn't find the battle of Chansolorville so I can't comment on using that tactic but we can't use the canne tactic (if you mean the battle between Hanibal and the Romans at Cannae). Their force is to big to surround in battle, we would strech to thin and again run the risk of being separated in small groups.

[King Henry V]

As I said before, my Welsh history is not very good so what I will say now is nothing more than speculation and invention for the purposes of the story.
There are three Welsh principalities which have allied themselves with eachother and Robert of Gloucester. The price for such an alliance is so far unknown. Gwynedd is the strongest of the three, and often intervenes in the politics of Powys, on whose territory Dinas Bran stands. Mabel, daughter of Robert of Gloucester, is married to Ranulf, Earl of Chester, who is the mediator between his Welsh neighbours and Robert of Gloucester. Therefore, Gwynedd is the chief supporter of Robert and vice versa. The Prince of Powys is old, and has no children. The chief contenders for thr throne are his eldest nephew and a cousin of his. The cousin is seen as the most probable heir to the throne, as he is supported by Gwynedd and the most powerful lord in Powys (sorry, I still have to come up with the names for all these people!). However, the nephew is the most candidate of the majority of the people and lords of Powys itself. Dyfet is the most westerly principality, and is an ally of Gwynedd and has been an enemy of Powys for many years until a reluctant pact of friendship was brokered recently between the two princedoms by Gwynedd who acted as the mediator. There is still much antagonism and ill will between Powys and Dyfet.
The main part of the Welsh army are the levies of the three princedoms, i.e simple peasants who have been called upon to fight for their lord. They are armed with nothing more than a shield, a spear and a helmet, though some wear leather armour. Locked in a shield wall, they can offer quite some heavy resistance, but once it breaks they can be easily hunted down and butchered. They comprise half of the army. A third of it are mainly the raiders, lightly armed with sword, spears and most importantly, bows. They are effective light infantry, can give a fearsome charge, but are not relied upon to stand lengthy combat. The rest of the army is basically its backbone, the well armoured and discplined elite of Wales. Some will have mail, but many will be armoured in leather. They will fight in shield walls, but can last mcuh longer than the ordinary levies. Horsemen are few among the Welsh.
Hope this helps!

[Mr White]

start chaos and disorganistion in the midst of the Welsh and we stand a chance otherwise the troublesome reign of King Stephen ends here

[Ludens]

Thanks, King Henry.

AntiochusIII's plan sounds good, though I do not know if the rest of the army can get there in time to rescue Stephen. Is it going to be a nightly attempt or do you want people to see you are "fleeing"?

[Lord Winter]

I couldn't find the battle of Chansolorville so I can't comment on using that tactic but we can't use the canne tactic (if you mean the battle between Hanibal and the Romans at Cannae). Their force is to big to surround in battle, we would strech to thin and again run the risk of being separated in small groups.
I realized that a few hours latter. Chancollerville was a US cival war battle with a three way flanking maneuver which is also not going to work due to the fact that we cant carry out that much precession.
So I say it looks like we have a charge on one flank to make it look like we are trying to break through. Wait until the majority of there forces are turned towards the other way. Then hit them with every thing we have left on the other flank.

[AntiochusIII]

Thanks, King Henry.

AntiochusIII's plan sounds good, though I do not know if the rest of the army can get there in time to rescue Stephen. Is it going to be a nightly attempt or do you want people to see you are "fleeing"?A night attempt sounds better. If I am the Welsh I would expect something was wrong if the king "broadcasted" his escape attempt.

My mind is going a little too far (blame it on Romance of the Three Kingdoms novel) and is thinking about two-tier trickery, i.e. pretend to launch a night attack as diversion, then (pretend to) break through (as if that night attack IS a real diversion for a real escape attempt), then actually launch a night attack when they are caught off-guard, but I suspect the enemy would be too simple-minded for that, and our troops might not be enough for all the operations involved. :juggle2:

[Lord Winter]

Remember the best plans are simple

[Ludens]

A night attempt sounds better. If I am the Welsh I would expect something was wrong if the king "broadcasted" his escape attempt.
Your plan has got mine and Mr. White's support, so this probably will be it. I am not sure if Destroyer of Hope agrees. However, we must time it well. If we are too fast, the second attack group will be surrounded as well, if we are too slow the first group will be annihilated. And there can be almost no communication between the two groups. I guess the first group should take a hornblower or something similar to call for the second group when the Welsh are showing up in force.

[King Henry V]

So the accepted plan is to create a diversion with some cavalry at night, wait until the Welsh fling themselves onto the horsemen, then launch the rest of the forces onto the rear?
There will also be about a hundred Welsh levy men near the entrance of the castle, to warn of any sortie. However, they by no means seal off the Dinas Bran and could be easily outflanked by some fast cavalry.
BTW, is this a full breakout attempt, or simply defeating the Welsh? If it is a breakout attempt, do you want the soldiers to be carrying the rest of the supplies, or should the food be kept ready in the carts to leave the castle as soon as possible?

[Ludens]

So the accepted plan is to create a diversion with some cavalry at night, wait until the Welsh fling themselves onto the horsemen, then launch the rest of the forces onto the rear?
There will also be about a hundred Welsh levy men near the entrance of the castle, to warn of any sortie. However, they by no means seal off the Dinas Bran and could be easily outflanked by some fast cavalry.
BTW, is this a full breakout attempt, or simply defeating the Welsh? If it is a breakout attempt, do you want the soldiers to be carrying the rest of the supplies, or should the food be kept ready in the carts to leave the castle as soon as possible?
I am not 100% sure on the battleplan, but the idea to defeat them, not to run off. If we run, they'll follow us and we are on their terrain. Also, the loss of prestige would be immense, and we cannot afford that. Every soldier should be made clear that an escape attempt is neither a military nor a political option. Here we stand, and here we fight.

[King Henry V]

BTW, after a bit of browsing on Wiki, I found out that Dyfet is not the name of the mediebal Welsh kingdom, it is Deheubarth. Gwynedd is ruled by Owain ap Gruffydd and his younger brother Cadwaladr, although Owain wields most of the power. Deheurbarth is ruled by Anarawd ap Gruffydd, son of Gruffydd ap Rhys who defeated the Normans with the help of Owain ap Gruffydd at the battle of Crug Mawr in 1136, after the death of Richard fitz Gilbert of Clare. The crushing victory of the Welsh over the Normans led to the loss of Ceredigion to Gwynnedd. The Prince of Powys is Madog ap Maredudd, his nephew is Owain Cyfeiliog and his cousin is Bleddyn.

[Lord Winter]

So the accepted plan is to create a diversion with some cavalry at night, wait until the Welsh fling themselves onto the horsemen, then launch the rest of the forces onto the rear?
There will also be about a hundred Welsh levy men near the entrance of the castle, to warn of any sortie. However, they by no means seal off the Dinas Bran and could be easily outflanked by some fast cavalry.
BTW, is this a full breakout attempt, or simply defeating the Welsh? If it is a breakout attempt, do you want the soldiers to be carrying the rest of the supplies, or should the food be kept ready in the carts to leave the castle as soon as possible?
basically that is our plan except throw some infantry in with the calvary so it looks like a realistic attack.

[Just A Girl]

basically that is our plan except throw some infantry in with the calvary so it looks like a realistic attack.

Ah yes. A very good plan,
But Dependant on the welsh not knowing whats about to happen.
May just work.....

"whistles"
*Backs up to the door*
*runs off to inform the welsh of the attack plan*

"CYMRU AM BYTH TWLL TIN POB SAIS!!! CYMRU AM BYTH!!!"

[Kraxis]

*Picks up a crossbow and shoots the traitor Just A Girl in the back, just like she deserves*~D

It is obvious that the battle can't be anything more than a sally to defeat the combined enemies.
We have been lured into a trap, at a place we hoped to trap the enemy ourselves. They know we will try something, thus simple plans will not work. We have to rely on unrealiable complicated plans to defeat the enemy. And this plan is just about as simple as we can get it. In the words of a famous American general: "Hold them by the nose and kick them in the balls!"

I fear though that we are wasting our cavalry. They are a precious comodity, the only true advantage we have over our enemies, They shold not be sacrificed. Their speed would be vital in gaining surprise when the enemies gather for repelling the sally.
But the choice has been made, and also, the 'king' can be very important in gathering enough of the enemy, and lastly the knights might very well be the only troops capable of holding on long enough.

But I would wish that most knight would hand over their horses to the better of the infantrymen and sally with the 'king' on foot, thus giving them stayingpower and giving the main body strikepower and speed.

[Ludens]

It is obvious that the battle can't be anything more than a sally to defeat the combined enemies.
We have been lured into a trap, at a place we hoped to trap the enemy ourselves. They know we will try something, thus simple plans will not work. We have to rely on unrealiable complicated plans to defeat the enemy. And this plan is just about as simple as we can get it. In the words of a famous American general: "Hold them by the nose and kick them in the balls!"

I fear though that we are wasting our cavalry. They are a precious comodity, the only true advantage we have over our enemies, They shold not be sacrificed. Their speed would be vital in gaining surprise when the enemies gather for repelling the sally.
But the choice has been made, and also, the 'king' can be very important in gathering enough of the enemy, and lastly the knights might very well be the only troops capable of holding on long enough.

But I would wish that most knight would hand over their horses to the better of the infantrymen and sally with the 'king' on foot, thus giving them stayingpower and giving the main body strikepower and speed.
Good points. But remember that the Welsh won't know what is going on as it is night, so they will have to guess as well. We hope they'll think the King is escaping and send their all the get him (as it is unlikely they will be able to sort out their troops in short notice). Then the second force will hit them. Simple, but not so simple that they can anticipate it.

I think the problem is everyone has his own ideas of how the sally should go. But I think we all agree the first group should be mounted to make it look like the King is trying to escape. This group should be able to fend of the enemy for quite some time, so it should consist of reliable men. However, I agree with Kraxis that we would waste our mobility if we sent all our knights with the first group, so perhaps it should consist of mounted quality-infanty? The second attack should have a least one or preferably two powerful cavalry units (one as reserve), if there are enough horses available.

Oh, and who says the king should be in the first group? An impersonator would do just as well, no?

[AntiochusIII]

It is obvious that the battle can't be anything more than a sally to defeat the combined enemies.
We have been lured into a trap, at a place we hoped to trap the enemy ourselves. They know we will try something, thus simple plans will not work. We have to rely on unrealiable complicated plans to defeat the enemy. And this plan is just about as simple as we can get it. In the words of a famous American general: "Hold them by the nose and kick them in the balls!"

I fear though that we are wasting our cavalry. They are a precious comodity, the only true advantage we have over our enemies, They shold not be sacrificed. Their speed would be vital in gaining surprise when the enemies gather for repelling the sally.
But the choice has been made, and also, the 'king' can be very important in gathering enough of the enemy, and lastly the knights might very well be the only troops capable of holding on long enough.

But I would wish that most knight would hand over their horses to the better of the infantrymen and sally with the 'king' on foot, thus giving them stayingpower and giving the main body strikepower and speed.How about my earlier unreliable complicated plan? Nah...that won't work because we don't have enough forces to give enough weight to each part of the army. That's our problem...we can't split our forces to many tasks as they are outnumbered everywhere already.

You've made great points about the need for the strength of our second wave. Indeed, your/Ludens' idea to replace some mounted quality infantry in place of knights in the first wave should compensate that quite comfortably.

The real danger to our plans is not the Welsh, whom we'll fight no matter what anyway, but the traitorous knights -- they are the only ones with strength to challenge our own knights in a short space of time. :shame:

Oh, and who says the king should be in the first group? An impersonator would do just as well, no?Exactly. That was what I was thinking when I said "dressing up some loyal barons." Stephen should not risk himself with the first wave, where the reaction to any enemy movements will be extremely limited. He'll be commanding the rest of the army from the inside, able to change plans -- should that be needed -- at notice, while the impersonator "attempt to escape." The more "nervous"/"unorganized"/"desperate" the first wave looks to the enemy, the more chance they will fall for our trickery.

I also have this feeling that when, or if, Stephen ever gets back to his land again, there will be quite an upheaval. In this short space of time we face too many betrayals already...

Kill'em all those dastardly traitorous barons!

[Lord Winter]

Oh, and who says the king should be in the first group? An impersonator would do just as well, no?
Now who do we want to die?

[King Kurt]

Nobody has suggested luring the Welsh off with a flock of really attractive sheep!
Like all the others, I think a well planned, simple attack, probably at night - takes out the Welsh bow advantage - is the best option. The english army knows it must win, while the Welsh way would be to melt away when things get tough. One strategem would be for some of the army to disguise them selves as Robert of Glouster's men to spread some dissension in the Welsh army. finally all the English army should wear a distinctive sign so they could tell who is who in the night battle. A strong, blow would rout the Welsh and we could reap revenge on Robert of Glouster's men.::bow:

[Just A Girl]

Do we have a Estemation of when the Next thriling instalmet will be?
I wanna see what happens next...

"sorry if it seems like im rushing you, just curious"

[King Henry V]

The next installment should be written by Monday. Sorry for the delay, it's just that I got BI for Christmas.

[King Henry V]

Right, here some new (correct) information about Welsh armies during this time period. Sorry about the change, but before I didn't have the time to do any research.
Unlike most countries in Europe at the time, the style and method of medieval Welsh warfare was not overly influenced by feudalism. The survival of earlier traditions of pre-Roman and early medieval Celtic culture in Wales was reflected in military terms - not least because the heavily armoured feudal horseman could not properly operate in the rough and hilly ground covering much of Wales.
The Welsh armies which faced Anglo-Norman incursions were based around the individual princes' and chieftains' personal bodyguards (Teulu). The rest of the force would comprise of any local men over the age of 14; this service was seen as a privilege, as opposed to feudal militias who saw such service as an obligation. The only men over the age of 14 who were exempt from such service were those who were tenants on church lands. A prince could call out his host once a year, and they would only have to serve in campaigns outside of their principality for up to 6 weeks..




The Teulu (literally meaning "family") were strongly armed and mounted retainers. They were armed as a feudal knight, in chainmail and helmet, and carrying a shield and lance. Early in this period, the Teulu may have used javelins instead of lances, just like their Norman counterparts.



The men of north Wales were mostly spearmen (the best being from Merionethshire and Cynan), and those from south Wales were mainly archers (the best being from Gwent, who were "accustomed to war"). However, this does not mean that the north Welsh had no archers, or vice versa.

The warriors were dressed in a linen shirt (often red) and linen drawers; they covered these with a woolen cloak hanging to their knees, which was sometimes described as being "thin". Several manuscripts depict Welsh warriors as having only one shoe and their other foot bare - this probably allowed them to keep a balance on hilly or rough terrain. Hair was worn short, and was shaped around the eyes and ears; moustaches were popular, but beards were not.

As mentioned above, the main weapons were long spears and bows, but javelins were also used, as were maces, gisarmes, and axes. A circular shield was carried by the foot soldiers, decorated white, yellow, silver, or blue. The bow used by the Welsh was made of elm, and unlike the way in which the English later utilised it, Welsh bows were fired at close range, as an ambush weapon. During fighting at Abergavenny Castle, one arrow was recorded to have penetrated a horseman's mail covered leg, through his saddle, and into his horse far enough to kill it; another arrow was fired 4" into an oak door.


As mentioned before, the Teulu consisted of better equipped horsemen, known individually as Uchelwr; these upper class warriors also favoured red tunics, and dressed for battle in a similar style to the English knights ("Marchogs"). Although armed with lances, early Uchelwr's probably threw javelins like their Marchog rivals. Heraldry was known from the late C12th onwards, and a good example of an early C13th Uchelwr can be seen on the seal of Llywelyn ab Iorwerth, shown at right.



The tactics used by Welsh armies were formulated to suit the awkward terrain of Wales - this was often the main weapon against the invading English. Primarily, Welsh tactics consisted of ambushes and raids; success in war was measured by the amount of booty brought home. Giraldus Cambrensis notes that it was Welsh habit "to steal anything they can lay their hands on and to live on plunder, theft and robbery". Battle was preferred on marshy or broken ground, which favoured the Welsh's mobility over the clumsy, heavily armoured English knights. The initial onslaught was fierce, but if this did not break the enemy, the Welsh often lost heart. Their spirits were picked up by loud battle cries and war trumpets blowing (according to C12th sources).

The initial charge was a headlong assault accompanied by thrown javelins; this could be followed up by feigned flight (a common tactic amongst lightly armed and agile troops to lead their enemy into a trap). At the Battle of Lincoln in 1141, it was recorded that "On the flank there was a great multitude of Welshmen, better provided with daring than with arms" - as with most Celts of the medieval period, the Welsh relied upon agility and cunning as opposed to armour.

When this agility was forsaken, the Welsh were comprehensively beaten - at Orewin Bridge (1282) and Maes Moydog (1295), the Welsh stood in phalanxes of long spears, like the Scots, and were shot to pieces and charges by Edward I's combination of archers and horsemen.

Although large Welsh forces were capable of besieging castles (ie Builth), the siege tactics employed were not those of a feudal army - the Welsh did not really make use of war engines or other standard medieval techniques of storming a castle. The Welsh relied on keeping the defenders inside their castle (by a strong display of force outside the walls), and preventing supplies getting into the castle - this effectively starved the defenders out. Edward I countered this tactic by placing his newly constructed castles along the coastline - to allow easy supply routes from the sea (the Welsh had no significant navy). In Madog's Revolt, Caernavon Castle was stormed, but in this assault the Welsh came across the rock cut ditch which defended the partially constructed castle.

[Mouzafphaerre]

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:2thumbsup:
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[Ludens]

Interesting. The most important lesson is that the Welsh rely on mobility to win. If they don't use their mobility, they tend to lose. It think this underlines the necessity of keeping a mobile reserve, but otherwise I see no need to alter our battleplan.

[Just A Girl]

Wasnt it customary for Bow men to wear 1 shoe And have the other for drawing a cross bow?

[Just A Girl]

`Seems it was not only the archers...

http://heatherrosejones.com/welshfaqs/clothing.html[/url]
What would a medieval Welsh archer wear?
Question: I was wondering if anyone knew where I could find some pictures of 13th century armor for an archer? What sort of armor would a medieval Welsh archer wear?

Answer: To the extent that there is any historical evidence, the answer seems to be "none". There is actually a drawing that is supposed to represent a Welsh archer in a 13th c. collection of English legal documents known as "Liber A". The figure wears a knee-length tunic with long sleeves, and a short cloak fastened in some way at the center front. Rather peculiarly, the figure wears only a single shoe (on the left foot) and shares this characteristic with the depiction of a Welsh spearman in the same manuscript. But there's no sign of armor or a helmet at all. (Nor in the depiction of the spearman, for that matter.)

so I kinda answerd my own question....
Sorry

[Ludens]

How is this progressing? It has been a month since the last update, but I would still like to know how this is going to end.

[King Henry V]

It's progressing well, so well in fact that I'm going to post it. This is not the full chapter, however I thought I should let my avid fans ( I know I'm getting awfully pretentious) get to read it at the earliest opportunity. The final piece should be ready by later tonight, or tomorrow morning.
Sorry about the cliffhanger, but there's nothing like it to get people interested in the continuation. BTW, if you can, listen to the more dramatic

The Battle of Dinas Bran.
You give your decision to the council. You will attack the Welsh encampment a few hours before dawn the next day, making two feint attacks before committing the full body of your soldiers to the attack: the first party, composed of twenty knights and forty men-at-arms under the command of Lord fitz William, will make the first attack, whilst a second group of fifteen knights will masquerade as the royal bodyguard, led by a young knight who will have your coat of arms on his surcoat and pretend to be you. Seeing the “king” attempt to flee, this party will hopefully draw men away from the main encampment. Finally, you will lead the rest of your army to charge into the Welsh rear and drive them from the field. Fifty spearmen will be left behind to guard Dinas Bran from any attack. It is most certainly a risky gamble, but your options are limited. By tomorrow the fate of the realm will be played out in a rain sodden valley in Wales.
The rest of the day your soldiers prepare for battle. Blades and spear points are honed and coats of mail are scrubbed clean of rust. You order the soldiers to eat heartily, as hungry men do not fight well.
That night, you sleep fitfully, tossing and turning in the filthy straw. Should tomorrow see your defeat, Gloucester’s rebellion will probably spread throughout the country as men see that their king is broken. If you survive, that is.
You awake after sleeping for a couple hours to find the army rising from their beds and dealing with the final preparations. You eat a quick breakfast of thin gruel and splash your face with some cold water. You scratch at the rough stubble of your fair beard: you haven’t shaven for several days.
A servant helps you dress for battle. Beneath your mail haubergeon, you wear silk garments. Should the armour be pierced, the small scraps of silk will not infect the wound, unlike other fabrics. You strap your sword belt to your waist and tie the conical helmet around your head with two leather thongs. You mount the crumbling stone battlements and gaze at the dying embers of the Welsh camp fires that give a dull glow, illuminating the enemy positions.
The Welsh camp straddles the two tracks that lead to England and to Northern Powys, effectively blocking off Dinas Bran. Robert of Gloucester and his followers are separated from the Welsh; they are camped across the Usk, probably guarding the rear from the eventuality of a relief column arriving from England, but also because the commanders are wary of drunken brawls breaking out between the two former enemies. You yourself remember grimly one of your campaigns in Normandy where Ypres’ Flemings had fought with your Norman vassals, leaving several men dead and souring relations between the mercenaries and the Normans for the duration of the campaign, ultimately resulting in its failure.
Few of the Welsh actually have tents; only the Teulu, the household warriors and their lords have any kind of shelter. The rest, the poorly armed tribal levies and the border raiders have merely their woollen cloaks to shield them from the elements.
The air is damp and cold; you hope the ground hasn’t been softened too much by the ubiquitous Welsh rain so that your heavy chargers will be bogged down in mud. One of your retainers scrambles up the rubble mound and informs you that the first two attack parties are ready and await your order to attack. You look to the east, to England, where the first traces of light are beginning to creep into the sky. Dawn is approaching.
You nod your head. The first attack is about to begin.
The heavy carts are pulled away from the gate and the two parties of soldiers file out of the castle silently. Faint wisps of cloud shroud the moon, dulling the little light it gives. Tonight will be a night of darkness, chaos and death. You normally dislike chaos. Everything should have its place, everything should be ordered. Tonight, you will have to make an exception. Chaos will make the Welsh peasants run. Chaos will be your advantage; chaos will be your weapon. Tonight chaos shall ride out of Dinas Bran and wreak destruction on the enemy.
The two parties of soldiers edge down the steep slope slowly, mindful of the need for secrecy. If you are to be victorious this night, you will have to surprise the Welsh and kill as many of them as you can before they have a chance to resist.
You go back down to the yard where the chaplain is giving a blessing to the assembled troops. The Host is a stale piece of black rye bread. Provisions are low. Hopefully you will find some food in the Welsh camp; otherwise your army will be wracked by hunger within a few days.
It is time for you to make a speech. You usually dislike giving speeches, as you lack a witty tongue. However, if there has ever been a need for men to be invigorated and encouraged by their leader, it is now.
“Soldiers! We have marched many days through this wild land to obtain what we seek. What we seek is vengeance. Vengeance for ourselves, vengeance for our families, vengeance for our land that has been brutally pillaged and destroyed by these savage barbarians! Now we have burned their land, we have plundered their homes; we have destroyed their crops. But the Welsh still remained like ghosts, ever escaping our grasp. Yet now they are here. Now is our chance to smash them, slaughter them, and ride them down until the field is nothing but a blood-swamped meadow! They are many and we are few. But what resistance can two and a half thousand donkeys give to a thousand lions? This shall see our victory, and the Welsh will ne’er dare set foot on English soil before Judgment Day!”
Despite the orders for silence you had given before, a few men still cheer and some bang their shields in approval.
And down in the valley below, a horn blows.

The army marches out of the castle, leaving only the small garrison behind to protect the rest of the supplies, you baggage and the handful of non-combatants who accompany the army, such as your chaplain, personal physician and the siege engineer and his retinue.
Once the army is outside Dinas Bran’s ramparts and in the cover of the woods, you deploy them for battle. You command the centre battle or division, with your bodyguards, de Redvers turncoats and half of all the spearmen and men-at-arms. Robert Beaumont, who leads a quarter of the foot soldiers and two thirds of the knights, commands the right flank, whilst Gilbert of Clare commands you left flank with nearly all of the remaining infantry and cavalry, including Lord de Rougehavre’s horsemen. Your archers and crossbowmen are deployed directly behind your battle and they have orders to pick off any targets that may present themselves, not shoot blindly into a mass of indistinguishable men. Finally, Baldwin of Clare, brother to Lord Gilbert, leads a small rearguard composed of the volunteers from Exeter, some Marcher soldiers and twenty men-at-arms.
You give the order to advance. From your vantage point on top of your charger, you can vaguely observe the events in the valley by the dim lit of the moon and the campfires.
The Welsh army has engaged your two diversionary parties, who are almost surrounded but seem to be holding well. Most importantly, however, is that the Welsh are strung out and have their backs turned to you. You can see no visible activity across the river where Robert of Gloucester is encamped. Now is the time to strike.
Your battles advance down the dew sodden hill slowly. Some lose their footing on the treacherous incline, but the slope soon begins to even out and the pace quickens.
The din of the fight becomes louder and louder and you order a halt to your troops. You slide your sword out of your scabbard and raise it.
“Charge!”
You slash it down in the air, spur your horse on and thunder ahead of your line. Your army follows into battle. And the slaughter commences.

The Welsh are taken off guard as the army smashes into the rear and only the bravest stand and fight. The rest, seeing hundreds of men appear out of the darkness, run. Your sword soon becomes red with blood as you gallop among the broken levy spearmen, cutting them down like rabbits.
You whoop for joy as you slash and thrust from your saddle. It is the warrior’s joy of battle, an emotion you haven’t felt since fighting in Normandy under your uncle, the late King Henry all those years ago.
You reign in your horse to observe what is happening elsewhere on the field. The main body of the army is still about a hundred paces behind you, de Rougehavre’s horsemen are pursuing the Welsh while the two diversionary parties have now become part of the main army rather than isolated pockets of resistance.
However, the pursuit slows down and finally halts as the levy is rallied and locks into a firm shield wall. You throw yourself onto the wall several times, but to no avail. The Welsh levy men remain firm.
As you attempt to smash through their shield wall, the long line of spearmen bends and buckles, until its flanks overlap your own and you suddenly find yourself on the defensive. And then, out of the black night, you see that things are turning horribly wrong.
The teulu, the mailed and fearsome household troops of the Welsh princes and lords, charge into your side and kill many of your soldiers as they take them by surprise. You twist around in your saddle and you are able to glimpse the shimmering light of Gloucester’s men who are assembling and who will soon attack. If there is any hope of victory on this eve, you must smash the Welsh before Robert of Gloucester commits his heavy infantry and cavalry to the battle and ensures your defeat.
Your forces facing the river are pinned down, so you order Baldwin of Clare’s rearguard to follow you in out flanking the teulu. It is only a tiny force, but perhaps if it can charge into the teulu’s rear and rout them, then the rest of the Welsh will follow suit and break.
“One final push and we shall destroy them!” you promise your soldiers. One final push.
And then you hear the screams. The terrible, blood curdling war cries of the Welsh behind you. You see the Welsh raiders charge towards you as they utter their ululating screams, mad with battle rage. They loose a volley of arrows and javelins that slam into your ranks, felling dozens of men. You give a cry of pain as an arrow slices past your face, gashing it and the blood spills down into your beard. You soldiers make their own hasty shield wall and prepare to receive the hundreds of lightly armed warriors flinging themselves into the bloody chaos of battle.
You dismount from your horse and push yourself into the front rank. You cut down an axeman before thrusting your blade up into another Welshman’s chest. You duck as an enemy swings his sword at you and knocks your helmet off. You rise and ram your sword into his face before he has a chance to bring his own blade back to parry.
You fight like a demon and around you a pile of corpses rises as yet more warriors step into try and kill this richly armoured knight. You lose count of the number of enemies you have slain and wonder if there will ever be an end to the ranks of soldiers who constantly throw themselves at your ranks.
The briefest of lulls in the fighting gives you a chance to quickly turn round to see where Gloucester’s rebels are. They are slowly wading through the ford across the rain-swollen river and soon they will be ready to land the fatal blow that will see the death of your army.
Seeing your moment of inattention, a great burly warrior jumps forward and lunges his spear at your breast. You notice it only at the last moment and quickly twist away from the tip. The lunge misses you, however you lose balance, slip on the dew-wet grass and fall to the ground. The Welshman gives a cry of triumph as he stabs his spear down at your stomach. Unable to move your shield to stop the spear, you wait for the fatal blow. It does not come.
You finally manage to twist round and you see that the warrior’s cry of triumph has been replaced by a horrible gurgling noise as he falls to the ground, an axe buried in his thick throat.
You turn to see it is Baldwin of Clare who saved you and give him a swift nod of your head in thanks before quickly parrying another sword blow and despatching its owner to the realms of Death.
You know that soon the rebels will join the fight and destroy you, so you step up the pace, determined to take as many enemies with you. If you are to die, you will die with honour, with a sword in your hand and with slain enemies at your feet.
And then you hear the high-pitched sound of a horn blowing. And you are sure at that moment that all is lost.
But when you see who appears from the tree line, you know then that you are wrong. For victory will be possible after all.

[Mouzafphaerre]

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The riders of Rohan! :charge:
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[King Henry V]

Actually, funnily enough I just love listening to the soundtrack of LOTR when writing.

[Mouzafphaerre]

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Yeah! Yur story turned out to be much like The Battle of Pelennor Fields, without the Nazgûl. (That's a compiment. ~;))

https://img522.imageshack.us/img522/7098/alanlee033thebattleofpelennorf.th.jpg (https://img522.imageshack.us/my.php?image=alanlee033thebattleofpelennorf.jpg)
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[King Henry V]

However, I must stipulate that I have never read LOTR (well I tried once but didn't get past page twenty). This is entirely my own story!

[AntiochusIII]

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The riders of Rohan! :charge:
.May the Valars be blessed! Looks like Theoden somehow comes to save our king! Hopefully with all the six thousand riders of Rohan... :laugh4:

Awesome episode, King Henry! I can't wait to see how it will end (and who arrives). I still miss Vykke's Byzantines (what better game than the restoration of such an empire? ~:( ) and I was fearing that yours would be of the same fate. It is not and I am glad. :2thumbsup:

[Mouzafphaerre]

However, I must stipulate that I have never read LOTR (well I tried once but didn't get past page twenty). This is entirely my own story!
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Then you're plagiarizing whence Tolkien did! :evil: :laugh4:
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[Mouzafphaerre]

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Excuse my dumbness but...wasn't there supposed to be a faint attack, then a fake king fleeing and even then the final sally? I culdn't follow that in the scene; was bust trying to cover Stephen's aß... :duel:
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[King Henry V]

There was the fake king in the diversion, but the Welsh (being lightly armoured and many of them) did manage to catch him and surround him, which was why they were strung out. I repeat I have not copied Tolkien, I have never read Tolkien! The tactics were yours, but I simply could not let Stepehn win easily for dramatic effect. OTOH, to kill old Stepehn off would be a bit of a let down, so he has to be rescued.

[QwertyMIDX]

I would like an anticlimatic ending. :laugh4:

[Lord Winter]

don't be afraid to kill him off if you think we deserve it

[King Henry V]

OK, do you want him to die of septimcaemia from his wound?

[AntiochusIII]

OK, do you want him to die of septimcaemia from his wound?That's like, super anti-climactic. It would be hilarious (albeit a letdown) if Stephen wins this battle so completely that not a single Welshman survives the day, then die of a small wound's infection. :inquisitive: :laugh4:

[QwertyMIDX]

OK, do you want him to die of septimcaemia from his wound?

Sure, or maybe falling off his horse while returning to England from Wales.

[King Henry V]

Well, if that's the case, I'll drop this. I know when I'm not wanted!~:mecry: ~;)

[Mouzafphaerre]

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I repeat I have not copied Tolkien, I have never read Tolkien!
Stop denying! I caught you! I even saw you copying line by line from the original manuscript! Your mask is blown! :charge: Wait a minute... I know this face! You...you...you ARE Tolkien! ~:eek: You're out to get me! :hide:
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[Flavius Clemens]

but I simply could not let Stepehn win easily for dramatic effect.
Dramatic effect? Bit of an understatement there... You know how to hold our attention!

[Ludens]

There was the fake king in the diversion, but the Welsh (being lightly armoured and many of them) did manage to catch him and surround him, which was why they were strung out. I repeat I have not copied Tolkien, I have never read Tolkien! The tactics were yours, but I simply could not let Stepehn win easily for dramatic effect. OTOH, to kill old Stepehn off would be a bit of a let down, so he has to be rescued.
If he loses this battle it is pretty much game-over anyway. In that case I'd rather have him die gloriously.

[Mouzafphaerre]

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Why kill him? ~:mecry: Are you all tired or bored? :wall:
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[Lord Winter]

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Why kill him? ~:mecry: Are you all tired or bored? :wall:
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I just don't want it to be unrealistic, I hope we win but, for it to be any fun we have to be able to lose too.

[King Henry V]

Stephen may lose eventually, but I feel that now is a bit too early on in the story to kill him off. Furthermore, I feel that there should be one option which will make him lose (eventually) or win (eventually).

[King Henry V]

Well here's the continuation. There are no options from which to choose from at the end, as there are many possibilities and I'm to tired to think of them now. That and there may perhaps be a need for secrecy.

Into the Welsh rear slams a tiny force, barely fifty men. They are the garrison left behind in the castle and they now commit themselves to the fight. The Welsh raiders, unnerved by the heavy casualties they sustained as they desperately tried to claw open your line, panic and break as the garrison cuts into the Welsh rear. The lightly armoured warriors flee and you shout in triumph as your pursue them mercilessly.
You mount your horse again and call off your soldiers from their pursuit of the Welsh. Despite this small success, the battle is yet to be won and must be won quickly.
Your soldiers charge into the exposed rear of the overlapping enemy flanks. The shield wall collapses rapidly like a straw hut in a strong wind and soon everything is turmoil, a mass of panicking men dropping all weapons as they flee for their lives from your avenging army.
The teulu, seeing the rout of the majority of the army, decide that now they must retreat and disengage from your soldiers. Out in the river, Robert fitz Roy sees the break of his allies and calls his forces back, not wanting to risk heavy casualties.
The household warriors of the Welsh princes edge back slowly, keeping their shield wall tight. Slowly but surely, they approach the river while the rest of your soldiers pursue the easier catch. You realise that if you do not act soon then the best of the Welsh warriors will escape and so your adversaries will remain strong and will continue to pose a threat.
You gather all the knights, men-at-arms and spearmen that you have at hand and throw them against the teulu. They waver under the weight of the new attack and their line bends back in an attempt to protect their flanks, all the while trying to shuffle back to the river.
However, it soon becomes apparent that the growing number of troops attacking them will swamp them. They now face two uncertain choices: abandon the shield wall but risk being slaughtered as they flee or stand and fight but where they will most likely be butchered.
They choose the latter.
The rearmost ranks of the teulu drop their shields and run for the ford. Soon nearly all the teulu is broken. Only the two front ranks of the shield wall, where the bravest men always stand, hold.
However, their fate is sealed as your soldiers engulf them. They fight their last moments with bravery, with one fearsome warlord cutting down three of your men-at-arms before finally a sword thrust to his ribs brings him down. The rest are massacred to a man.
Those who ran are soon overtaken by your knights and speared like game. Others join the crowd of men desperately trying their way across the river. Some even hack a path through their own countrymen in an attempt to flee. Many slip and drown, their heavy armour weighing them down.
The chaos is further enhanced as you order your surviving bowmen to shoot their volleys into the panicked crowd.
As the last of the Welsh are pursued from the field, you suddenly collapse to the ground from sheer exhaustion. Some soldiers nearby help you to sit down in a more dignified manner. Baldwin of Clare rides up to you. He too looks tired and his arm is blood stained from a spear wound near his shoulder. He bows his head at you.
“The day is yours, sire.”
“Yes, I believe it is.”
The sun’s light now fills about a third of the sky and the horrors of the night’s events soon become apparent. Most of the corpses are arrayed in a deformed oval, showing where the Welsh surrounded your army. In the centre there also many bodies, testimony to the early pursuit of the levy men. Near the ford are the bloody traces of the last moments of the teulu; whilst further along down the river some corpses are washed ashore. Already the fields reek of the stench of death.
You are helped onto your horse and you slowly ascend the steep hill to the castle. Some of the wounded are being carried up to the castle on makeshift litters. Others, mostly Welsh, cry piteously for mercy on the bloody fields, shouting for their mothers and praying that they may be delivered from their agony. Some of your men put them out of their misery with a quick stab in the ribs with a dagger before plundering the dead of any valuables.
Within Dinas Bran, your few doctors are busying themselves with the many wounded. Those who have no hope of survival are quickly despatched with a blow to the head.
Your physician leaves a man with a badly cut leg to attend to your face wound. You dismiss him with a curt wave of your hand before throwing yourself into the pile of straw that is your bed. All you want is sleep.
You wake up several hours later when the last of the darkness has been chased from the sky.
The wails of the wounded and the dying are still loud. Your doctor insists on attending to you and you finally allow him. You glance into a bucket of water and you see that your face is indeed a horror of crusted blood. The blood is scraped away and the wound cleaned, before a pungent green paste is spread across the gash.
Robert of Leicester appears after you eat a light meal of bread and dried meat.
“Noble King, this day the Lord God has truly smiled on us. The Welsh army has been crushed! The few survivors run for the hills like whipped dogs! This day shall be remembered throughout history for your great victory.”
You smile wearily. “What of the casualties?” you ask.
Robert’s face darkens slightly. “Many men have died on both sides,” he says softly.
“Many brave men. Lord Roger fitz William, Lord Alan de Tracy, Sir Roger of Asnelles, Lord Henry of Lieurey and Lord de Rougehavre. All dead. We fear that we may have lost as many as three hundred soldiers and another two hundred wounded.”
You say nothing. Four hundred men is a heavy toll for such a small army.
“And what of the Welsh? How many men have they lost?” you ask.
“Our reports have counted not less than fifteen hundred men and our highest counts are of two thousand. However, sixteen hundred seems a more probable.”
You laugh. Even now, with the Welsh army in ruins, they still outnumber you. Of your original army of twelve hundred men, five hundred are dead or wounded. With Gloucester to bolster their numbers, the Welsh army is almost twice your size even now. However, their spirit and no doubt their alliance is broken. Robert fitz Roy effectively deserted them. Even during the final stages of the battle, his fresh troops could still have defeated you. But then he ran the risk of committing soldiers that was almost lost. His army could have been sucked into the whirling chaos of the routing Welshmen.
In The Welsh camp you have also found four carts filled with food, which will be enough to see you back to England if you march down the Usk valley, as the casualties you have sustained will mean less mouths to feed.
You are about to ask Robert on what should be done next when a sergeant-at-arms comes into the ancient keep.
He bows. “Lord King, among the remains of Gloucester’s camp we have found several chest full of letters. We thought it best that we should bring it to you for your inspection.”
“Bring it in,” you beckon him.
Outside in the yard several spearmen negotiate their way through the sea of casualties with the heavy oak boxes. As you open them you see that they are brimming with papers and correspondence. You pick one out of the pile and read it. The writing is in a crude hand and the Latin is poor and clumsy.

To my Lord Robert of Caen, Earl of Gloucester,

I bid you greetings, noble lord, and bring good tidings. The castle of Ludow, in compliance with your wishes, has been readied for war. The granaries are filled with much corn, vegetables and meat and we have provisions that would last up to three months if Ludlow were to be attacked. The garrison of the castle currently boasts a strong garrison of forty knights, four and fifty men-at-arms and as many spearmen. We have also recruited a company of seven and thirty Italian arbalesters. I have over sixty horses at my disposal, with which I may use to swiftly attack any lands that may still remain loyal to the usurper, if he stills lives upon your return from the Welsh mountains. I await with glee the coming campaign and the long due arrival of the Empress, our sole rightful sovereign.
May God grant us victory,

Richard de Lacy, Lord of Ludlow
You drop the parchment into the chest.
“Have you read any of these?” you demand the sergeant.
“No, sire, I have not. I cannot read.”
You proceed to rummage through all the letters, rapidly skimming through them. Your heart sinks after reading each piece of correspondence. The contents are shattering. They are letters from nearly all the castellans, barons and prelates of South Western England. Almost all resemble that of Richard de Lacy. They talk of sedition, of conspiracy, of treason. Letters from Miles, castellan of Gloucester; Brian fitz Count, Lord of Wallingford; Nigel, Bishop of Ely; Ranulf, Earl of Chester; from the castellans of Berkeley, Trowbridge, Harptree, Castle Cary, Marlborough, Tetbury, Winchcombe, South Cerney, Oxford, Hereford, Dover, Corfe, Wareham, Malmesbury and Bampton. There is even an ambiguous letter from Robert, Bishop of Bath and Lord Chancellor of the realm, saying that he may not have use of the castle of Sherborne, Salisbury and Devizes “under the present circumstances. However, should the situation change, your forces may be admitted to the aforementioned castles”. The rebellion, it seems, is far greater than you had ever thought.
You try to compose your thoughts and look calm.
“Take those chests and load them onto wagons. Place two guards to watch them day and night. I want no one to view these coffers without my express permission. You dismiss the others from your company and think on what to do.

[King Henry V]

Come on, post people, post!

[Ludens]

Come on, post people, post!
The way I see it, we are faced with two problems, and if we solve one the other will become more of a problem. Either we return to England and try to bring the rebellious nobles to heel, but that would mean leaving our job here unfinished. The campaign would have been for nothing and we could suffer a hit in prestige. The other option is to take advantage of the scatted Welsh and smash them as fast as possible. We do not even have to hit them all: a quick and decisive victory over one lord might even be sufficient. This would gain us much prestige, but the longer it takes, the more chance the rebellion has.

Whatever we do, we have to act quickly and desively. I would like to know who are within easy striking range, and how strong they are.

Off course, all my suggestions rely upon a show of force, and force is something we do not have an abundance of right now. I would be interested to know if some patrons can suggest a political or diplomatical approach. However, I think my point still stands that we need to score a quick and clear victory.

[Flavius Clemens]

What further loyal forces - if any - can we hope for back in England? Having made a serious blow against the Welsh elite I think we need to leave the remnants to themselves and get back to assert authority, or there won't be a kingdom left.

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
Hard to speak without further data aat hand but I would force the Welsh to peace and maybe allegiance. A decisive blow reminding them of the cost of their struggle and possible profits from your friendship...

We have to finish the job at hand but we have to hasten, while even our own brother is pondering treachery! ~:pissed: ~:mecry:
.

[Just A Girl]

Whats the treasury like?
you guys didnt listen earlier when i told you to keep the money we made in the 1st chapter...

can we hier mecenarys?
and will they be loyal?

It seems to me We would need to Re group. and reinforce, before mooving on,
our men are hungry and have bearly enough previsions to get home.

We should be weary of stray welsh bandits attacking us on the way back to england.
They now know were here so they can easily watch us and wait for us to moove.

the welsh have always been The type who will sit and wait out the enemy.
hopefully starve them out.
Its possible that our retreats could already be blocked off,
if the welsh deviode there forces in to 2.
and place 1 group along each of our possible routs home.
they could eaisily use gurilla warfare tactics on us and leave us hoplesly outnumberd hungry, and above all.
out in the open.

the situation looks bleak.
And thats Just getting home.

[Lord Winter]

We should of attacked the scots, that was our first mistake. Now it looks like we are forced to fight and finish off the welsh. So what i suggest:
1. Keep up the campaign against the welsh try to force them to swear allegiance. The bottom line is we need to get out of there quickly.


2.Outlaw any nobles in rebellion strip them of there titles land ect put a price on all of there heads. Maybe some of the (more) loyal nobles could be bribed to attack them? Not exactly in the form of gold but maybe the promise of there land and titles?

[Just A Girl]

my sudgestion would be,
(IF WE HAVE ANY FREINLY FORCES IN ENGLAND)

Send a small ligtly armoured group of horse men back to england with Minimal suplys of food and water.
Tell them to march as fast as they can day and night.
And try to get more men and suplis up to the castle.

the small group should be able to travel quickly with light armour, And hopefully would not be seen by the welsh,

If they sucseed Then our forces can be replenished slightly and we can feed our soldiers.

The food we have is equivelent to the food we need for the march home,
With carefull rationing.
We should be able to hold out untill the suplies and the releif troops arive,
and then we can re asses what to do with the welsh.

I beleve this is the Safest way of keeping our king alive.
However,
Doing so will let the rebels have more time to rise against us.
And taking the few remaining loyal troops out of england could be enough to give the land over to the rebels without a fight.

a nother thought is,
if the releif columb arives and says they will fight the welsh with us,
how do we know they wont turn on us as soon as we find then attack the welsh?

It seems as if we are stuck in this castle,
with no food,
and 1/2 the forces that the welsh have.
We need to get home to stop the rebellion,
but attempting to do so could lead us in to a welsh ambush.

These are my sdgestions. and fears.
hopefuly they will be of value.

[Lord Winter]

Can we get a map of welsh territory? How many men is it estimated that the welsh have total? How many (in percent) were at the battle?

Like Just a Girl i am worried about ambushes on the way back. Reinforcement is not an option in terms of men, supply lines are iffy and with the rebellion failure here is not an option. We must come back with the prestige of victory not the weakness of defeat. It looks like we have not avoided the anarchy that is in the title.

[AntiochusIII]

Of those people who are moaning the anguish of perceived past mistakes, of the overall difficulty of the game, and how hopeless King Stephen of England's position is right now, I'd like to remind you that, sir, the rebellion has not officially started -- I believe, or so I hope, that it will not until Robert of Gloucester managed to return to England...in a few days, that the English nobles will start rebelling en masse. We might even be able to disengage some of the nobles early on if we play our cards right, either by decapitation, bribe, or just plain old Amnesty declaration after a prestigious victory.

King Henry not giving us the clear-cut choices seem to put many of us into chaos and despair, lol. :laugh4:

Until more information of the Welsh territories in the area -- their composition and position of forces, fortresses, and such military assets -- and the overall picture of the English nobility -- there must be loyalists among the throng of wolves, but I currently have no clue who are they and what are their strengths -- are forthcoming, I will hold back my choice. There is yet to be a picture clear enough for me to elaborate what should be the right path. Would you please provide us with such a picture (metaphorically)? It would be of utmost help.

If none is to come, however, I would advocate returning to England at once, much to my misgivings about not finishing the Welsh once and for all.

I am pleased with the way this game is going, keep it up, King Henry!

After all, I've remarked some time ago that, after the Welsh campaign, we should return back for some major baron purging ala Vlad the Impaler or Peter the Great. If they are to die, it's For God and Country, hey. :skull:

[King Kurt]

Robert of Gloucester is key - snuff him out and the rebellion will die. Here is my cunning plan - the nearest source of troops are the Welsh themselves - let us offer them a treaty of leaving them alone and the lands of Robert of Gloucester in exchange for hunting down the usurper with us - we can point out his inaction in the recent battle and how he had left the Welsh to die. So the Welsh will help us hunt him down and we can ensure that their forces do most of the fighting. This will leave them weakened so they are not a threat and who knows, we might even snuff them as well!! The Welsh must be in need of resources - remember the valleys had been stripped bare to prevent them being used by us - so the prospect of Robert's land would be tempting.
What do they say - keep your friends close and your enemies closer~:cheers:

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
That sounds like a good plan indeed, if it works! :yes: But we're not sure about the uniqueness of de Gloucestre in the plot. If it's anything like the real Stephen era, more and more will pop up and delivering the fiefs of a Norman nobleman to barbarians wouldn't help but hinder our cause in the long term. :no:
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[King Kurt]

Ah - but part 2 of the cunning plan is to turn on the over stretched, battle worn Welsh when their usefulness has past - small pause then devilish laughter is heard.:laugh4:

[King Henry V]

Right did someone request some pictures? ~D
Here we go.
Legend: the red shields indicate the castles and towns which you know for certain will join Robert of Gloucester.
The Yellow shields are the strongholds which you know that will declare for you (Chepstow and Usk castle are both fiefdoms of Gilbert of Clare, Worcester and Leicester are held by Robert Beaumont). Gwent will also be loyal as that is where most of the army comes from.
The white flags are towns and castles of whom you are not sure of their allegiance, or whether they have been captured by the enemy.

General overview:
http://xs66.xs.to/pics/06053/overview.jpg

The rebellious area:
http://xs66.xs.to/pics/06053/south.jpg

The Marches:
http://xs66.xs.to/pics/06053/marches.jpg

South of England:
http://xs66.xs.to/pics/06053/southern.jpg

The The North West of the rebellion:
http://xs66.xs.to/pics/06053/midlands.jpg

Whilst, I know which places are still loyal to Stephen, I'm not going to tell you because, your in the situation of being stuck in the middle of Wales with absolutely no information.
However, the treasury is still strong and it can still afford to raise a mercenary army. However, since you miles behind enemy territory it is difficult to say whether that army will remain loyal for long or just mutiny and plunder the countryside. Also remember that no amount of money will pay someone to die for you.
In your recent battle, the Welsh have been firmly and resoundly trounced. Over half of their levy perished, which will mean there will be a shortage of men to harvest the crop s in autumn and possibly famine in winter. This will be especially true in Powys, as you have devasted their main valley where the most important farms are, and it looks as though you will pillage the Usk, since the Wye will have no food left and will be a difficult route since it seems that the castles of Clifford and Hereford will block. The Usk also both castles of Gilbert of Clare there, and there is no apparent sign that Monmouth will also join the revolt.
Most of the teulu was slaughtered at Dinas Bran, which means that the Welsh nobility and their followers have been decimated. Their chain mail and the best weapons of the Welsh princedoms have also been lost.
The raiders were the first to flee the field, so their casualties were the lightest, relatively speaking.
The Welsh are severely weakened. However, if you continue your campaign in Wales, they will not make the same mistake twice. The Welsh will do what they do best: harry and retreat, drawing their enemy deeper into the country until the enemy is without food and the army ready to collapse. Then they will strike and the invader's army does break there will be no escape.
Anymore info required (apart from that which I will not tell).

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
Then it seems that we should seek a quick ceasefire, advantageous as best we can, and strike right de Gloucester. :no: His demise might uninspire the co-plotters and strengthen our positin with the loyals, and even maybe win some of the wait-and-see scum. Whatever we decide we must do it swiftly for we're already burried in deep colonary produce. ~;p

Seek parley with the Welsh and use the fact that we're holding Dinas Bran. Then move swiftly onward de Gloucester and meanwhile summon the help of the most surely loyal.
.

[Lord Winter]

Declare victory and leave

[Flavius Clemens]

One of our problems is that Robert of Gloucester has a pretty good idea that
a) that the battle was close fought, and we must have taken heavy casualties
b) that having scorched the Wye valley we will be forced down the Usk for supplies and to avoid his castles
c) we will have found the letters and know the extent of his support.

He will presumably be racing to get together enough troops to face our relatively weak army as we head back down the Usk, before we can reach loyal reinforcements.

King Henry, is there any other route we can feasibly take to get back to loyal territory, thereby surprising Gloucester? Given the terrain and our supply situation I suspect not. If not then speed is of the essence. I suggest we send a few loyal messangers ahead by fast horse to alert Usk and Chepstow Castles, and find out the status of Monmoth - if still loyal, and if so to be put on their guard. Get whatever forces can be mustered to meet us en route as reinforcements.

As there is a ring of rebel castles between Chepstow and the more loyal heartlands perhaps we should aim to take ship there and outflank Gloucester - possibly sailing to Chester where there is (it seems on the map) at least some chance of finding loyal support. A lot depends on what forces are available where - if Gwent can provide enough loyal troops to face Gloucester head on then that can be our base.

[AntiochusIII]

Thank you very much, King Henry! Excellent maps they are!

Seek immediate parley with the Welsh with generous terms so to quickly conclude the negotiations--but still to our advantage as much as is possible. If we are able to gain what's left of the Welsh forces to hunt down Gloucester, then do it, even if it means we'll be shipping spare grain for the Welsh this year against the upcoming famine. A bogged down Robert of Gloucester, or better yet, a dead Gloucester, is a good Gloucester. From King Henry's description, the Welsh are now decimated and any future campaigns will be much easier with larger forces and better supplies, especially since Gwynedd, the most dangerous of all Welsh principalities, is practically on the other side of Wales, not too far from the English border there, if we ever seek more fighting. While many of the border raiders survived, what is there for them to raid but the lands that now belong to the traitorous barons? Wales, from now on, will not be our concern for a long time to come.

The more pressing matter at hand, however, is much more dangerous and the picture, despite King Henry's most helpful maps, is stil very blurry (intentionally so). As I've said, if we gain the Welsh's temporary aid, hunt him with impunity. While it is true that the plot is too large a scale to be one man's work, Gloucester is the practical leader of the rebellion and his death would do much damage to it, leaving the stronger lords scrambling for leadership and the weaker ones wavering.

From what has been indicated, the rebels are concentrated along the Welsh Border Marches and the Southwestern shore, while the heartlands would most likely be loyal. Therefore, I suggest, if hunting Robert of Gloucester is not a choice with realistic success possibility, to march at full speed through Usk towards Chepstow, where no doubt there will be forthcoming information. Also, send emissaries to Monmouth and, if it is on our side, has it plan for a full-scale siege defence. The rest of the nearest loyalist forces are to come to join our main army as soon as possible, along the way to Chepstow or at it. Though we will not wait if they can't make it. Time is of the essence.

After reaching Chepstow, if there is no extra information indicating loyalist concentrations in England as I'm hoping it will, then sail towards Chester and from there, gather the forces in which we would reconquer the Kingdom.

Any major offensive against the rebels themselves are not feasible without proper supplies and siege train with which to conquer their castles quickly.

[Lord Winter]

We must not seek parly with the welsh
The nobles will see as a sign of weakness and we need every advantage we can get not a disadvantage. We have dealt the Welsh a major blow they will leave us alone probably for a at least a couple years,

[Just A Girl]

Lol.
If the "welsh" in the dtory are anything like, me...
Yo better believe they wont lay down and let you just walk out of there :P

In all prbabilaty. the welsh wil starve you out of the castle. And draw you far in to the country side, where you will be outclassed due to diferent fighting stiles. giving the welsh the upper hand.

a few groups of short welsh bow men. along both valeys back to england, could easily use gurilla warefare tacktics to deplete our units.

but there ya go. Im from gwynedd and those sotherners may be diferent.
But i dount it.

[King Henry V]

Chester is the caput of Earl Ranulf of Chester, son-in-law if Robert of Gloucester. Let me put it this way, he had no love for King Stephen, as the latter granted Carlisle, Doncaster and much of the honour of Lancaster and Cumberland to King David of Scots at the treaty of Durham in 1136, which Ranulf insisted were his by right of birth.
However, despite his family connection with Gloucester, Ranulf is not so keen to join the Angevins either, as one of Matilda's chief supporters is her uncle, King David.
He is pretty much your rogue baron, and during the real civil war he both fought against Stephen at the battle of Lincoln and later joined him and brought three hundred knights to besiege the Angevin castle of Bedford.

As for the ring of enemy castles around Chepstow, Hereford, Bristol, Malmesbury and Gloucester are all stout castles with high stone walls and large keeps, not to mention the town walls. To sustain a siege, you must also have good supply lines and have enough troops to stop the enemy being supplied. As Gloucester and Bristol are the chief strongholds of the Angevins, they are most likely to have large garrisons.
Clifford, on the other hand, has wooden walls (and a stone keep). Since it is right on the edge of the Welsh border, it is not likely to be well supplied, and the garrison might be depleted after the Welsh raids. HOwever, even if you do manage to take it there is still Hereford, and you must still go down the Wye.

[Ludens]

I am a bit pressed for time, so I have not read all post in detail. My apologies if I have missed something. I second Antiochus' first proposal. We cannot linger long in Wales, but if the Welsh are unlikely to seek battle there is little we can do. If they will swear us fealty (perhaps in exchange in for food to avert the famine), our mission here is accomplished. As for the next offensive, I am not quite sure. Why are it the Welsh marcher lords that are revolting? It sounds like a bad idea to launch a revolt when your own home land is threatened. Perhaps the Welsh are aware of the traitors' intentions and are co-operating?

Whatever it is, I think that a quick minor victory against a rebel lord may go long way to restoring order, but I am not sure what would make a suitable target.

[Lord Winter]

I would like to apoligize i feel like i have been doing the equivilent of calling all of you Idiots. sorry :bow:

[King Henry V]

Are you still in favour of sailing to Chester?

[Flavius Clemens]

Are you still in favour of sailing to Chester?
I think whether or not we sail depends heavily on what we find when we get back to home turf. If Monmouth is still ours and loyal, and we have a reasonable balance of forces against Gloucester's then staying put to fight may be the best option. However if - as still seems likely - we'd be outnumbered and surrounded by a ring of rebel strongholds taking to the sea to outflank them still appeals.

I initially suggested trying Chester as it was showing as one of the closer options not definitely marked as against us. As Canterbury and Dover refused us entry on initially arriving in England to take the throne, I saw heading east as too risky. If there's a sensible option of a loyal port to aim for on the south coast I'd consider that, but if not then Chester still has to be under consideration. If we do it presumably means throwing Ranulf some big incentives to side with us - large chunk of the rebel lands when we win or restoration of some of what was lost to King David. The former means taking from his own relatives, so it depends on how mercenary Ranulf is, the latter will provoke the Scots, but they may well want to take advantage of the rebellion to attack anyway. As ever, sounds like the whole world is against us...

But back to the immediate question - I say get down to Chepstow asap and decide on the next move on arrival there. (Trying to recruit the Welsh seems risky and timeconsuming, so I'm not inclined to try it.) Also I still suggeste risking sending a few loyal messangers ahead at speed to warn the loyal castles.

[King Henry V]

Just a quick question, should you tell the army or only the barons of the situation? Or should you perhaps keep it a secret as long as possible.

[Just A Girl]

I may have read this and now forgoten already...

But are the town walls of chester in good codition after the romans in the story?...
Also a good % of the wals do date from medieval ages.
When to be precice i dont know.

cos Honestly if Chester was like it is these days back then.
I would NOT want to attack it.
(and most of chester town walls have fallen down these days)

The place has town walls surounding it.. "i think romans built them"
It would not be a good idea to attack it imo.
It would be as silly as to try and attack caernarfon castle.


Il show you what i mean... (And the walls could be in MUCH better condition in the story)
http://www.chester.gov.uk/images/chester-city-walls.jpg
http://www.guide2chester.co.uk/weir_walls.jpg
http://www.ruralescapeincheshire.com/walking/img/chesterwalls.jpg
http://homepage.ntlworld.com/t.woof/gen/ChesterWallsRcecrse-1502R-txt.jpg
http://www.cityofchester.org/gallery/w26.jpg
http://www.cityofchester.org/gallery/w25.jpg

There Maby a rethink is in order.

[King Kurt]

Going on Stephen's photo reconaisance I suggest we all disguise ourselves as going to the races - Stephen and his 1,000 itinerant bookies - and once we are in over power them:2thumbsup:

[King Henry V]

I may have read this and now forgoten already...

But are the town walls of chester in good codition after the romans in the story?...
Also a good % of the wals do date from medieval ages.
When to be precice i dont know.

cos Honestly if Chester was like it is these days back then.
I would NOT want to attack it.
(and most of chester town walls have fallen down these days)

The place has town walls surounding it.. "i think romans built them"
It would not be a good idea to attack it imo.
It would be as silly as to try and attack caernarfon castle.


Il show you what i mean... (And the walls could be in MUCH better condition in the story)
http://www.chester.gov.uk/images/chester-city-walls.jpg
http://www.guide2chester.co.uk/weir_walls.jpg
http://www.ruralescapeincheshire.com/walking/img/chesterwalls.jpg
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There Maby a rethink is in order.
Well Chester is the caput of Earl Ranulf, who is one of the most powerful and richest magnates in England, so think it likely that his walls will be kept in good condition.

[Flavius Clemens]

Just a quick question, should you tell the army or only the barons of the situation? Or should you perhaps keep it a secret as long as possible.
Well the army obviously know we'll have to deal with Robert of Gloucester, but I suggest we don't let them know the full breadth of the rebellion until we are back on safer ground.

[Kraxis]

It is obvious to all that we can't stay in Wales!

We are still outnumbered, we are risking rebellion at home (with no obvious royal presence it can become a wildfire) and the Welsh will deny us the cahnce to defeat them in a regular battle. Staying in Wales would only be possible if we had a larger army and a stable reign.

Remember what it was we intended to do when we went for Wales. To punish them and to halt their raids. Have we done that? The first is is very much accomplished. The second is uncertain given the raiders actually managed to get away with lighter losses than the rest. That, as mentioned earlier, can actually be an advantage. The raiders are pretty much forced to raid now, if they can. But they can only hit the rebels, so we should not try to halt them. But at the same time the Welsh have been severely weakened so there isn't a risk of them actually invading England while we are occupied with the rebels or Scots. Again it will only be the rebels that suffer. Let it stay so.

So I say, find an alternate route out of Wales, best one that can be plundered (forcing the Welsh to raid even more) quickly and safely and of course away from the certain rebels. If that can't be done then the priority is speed, avoidance of rebels, then plunder and finally safety (the Welsh are too weakened to do much right now if we get out fast).

Back 'home' we can easier take stock of what is happening. Perhaps even recalling Ypres and his forces from Normandy. At the very least we will need his good advice once more.

To hire mercs now is not good, they are unreliable, and since we are far away they might just take our gold then switch sides when the other side offers some more, who can punish them? We MUST wait until we get home and assemble a larger feudal army to get mercs in any serious number.

In essence, get home home fast, take stock of the loyalists and rebels, get feudal army called up, hire mercs and recall Ypres (perhaps with his men depending on the situation in Normandy).

[Kommodus]

I agree with those who have said we can't stay in Wales. I haven't read all the responses, but I think a quick summary of the plan is something like this:

1. Negotiate a cease-fire with the Welsh, as favorable to our side as possible. If possible, get them to attack Robert de Gloucester.

2. Return to England and bolster our depleted forces as much as possible with non-mercenary troops, then hire any mercenaries we need to round out a good army.

3. Prepare for the next campaign, whatever it may be. The Welsh will not be an immediate problem for some time, so our next campaign will either be:
a. Against Robert of Gloucester
b. Against Normandy
c. Against Scotland
d. Against various rebels

I'd like to add a couple things that may or may not have been mentioned already:

1. Knowing which nobles are rebellious is a great boon to us, especially since they aren't openly rebellious yet. I'm curious - could we march up to the castles, one by one, and order them to add their garrison and supplies to our army? Then they'd have to either openly rebel before they're ready and before their support is gathered, or comply with the demand. Officially, they're still supposed to be loyal to the king.

2. If this fails, maybe we should start a campaign of assassinations against the disloyal nobles. Cut off as many heads of this hydra as we can.

[Kraxis]

I have been thinking... Didn't we lose an awful lot of loyal nobles in the battle? That can be both good and bad. Bad because we can't know for sure if their successors like us. On the good side it can mean there aren't any successors, in which case we get their lands and troops. But it is still a great loss to lose such men who would be invaluable in battle.

[King Henry V]

You find your manservant and quickly order him to ask for the presence of all the major surviving barons who are not seriously wounded behind the keep tower, where there is no one to disturb you. The wounded lords limp into the area sealed off by your bodyguards and sit down on hastily prepared seating. You decide to jump straight to the matter at heart.
“My lords, without further delay I must inform you of news that I have just learned. Amid Robert of Gloucester’s abandoned camp several chests containing correspondence have been found from many castellans, barons and prelates of England informing Gloucester that he has their allegiance and that they will hold their castles against me once he returns from Wales.”
You give a few letters to the nobles whilst you tell them of all the strongholds that will support the rebellion. The shock is apparent on everyone’s faces.
“Our losses in the battle have been too great to allow us to continue with this campaign against the Welsh,” you say. We have achieved what we have set out to do: the flower of the Welsh army lies dead in the valley and we have punished them for their incessant raids, they will not trouble us for many years to come. However, we do not know the state of the realm, therefore we must hurry back to England where an army can be raised to deal with these rebels. In the mean time, I think it best that we keep this between ourselves until we reach safer lands where we may feel out the ground. When we have found out the full scale of this rebellion, then we shall tell the army, but for now I feel that discretion is the better part of valour. ”
“I am sure my castles of Chepstow and Usk will remain steadfast in their loyalty to your majesty,” says Gilbert of Clare.
“As will Worcester,” Robert Beaumont reassures you.
“I thank you for your help,” you bow to them both. “We shall depart two days from now and march down the Usk where we will find whatever food there is. I doubt we will receive much resistance from the Welsh now that we have smashed their armies.
There is a shout from the walls and a young squire runs up to your circle of guards where their spears from a barrier against any outsider wishing to intrude upon this secret council.
“I have news for the King!” shouts the boy to your implacable guards.
“Let him through” you order the soldiers and you beckon the squire in. “What is it?” you ask him.
“Sire, there is a party of riders outside. It seems as though they come in peace.”
Once again, your tired limbs scramble up to the parapet where you are able to see half a dozen horsemen ride across the battlefield. Their shields are up-turned and green sprigs are tied to the lance on which flaps the banner of the great eagle of Powys. It seems that they have indeed come in peace.
You climb back down to the bailey where you give orders for twenty knights to prepare themselves to ride out of the castle whilst a servant quickly helps you don your coats of mail and fasten your swords belt. Your joints ache painfully as you clamber onto your horse and ride out of the gate, accompanied by your party of knights. Your red banner of the centaur flaps in the breeze as you gallop down the hill. You are determined to look as powerful as possible to the Welsh and not allow any weaknesses to be visible.
You rein in your horse where the Welshmen stand amid the corpses of the field.
“We bid you greetings, lord,” one of the Welshmen says. He is a slender man, with dark oily hair, a long nose and bony fingers.
“May I know who you are and what your business is?” you demand of him brusquely.
He gives you a short, syrupy smile showing off a set of perfect white teeth. “I am Hywel ap Madyn, and I speak for my Lord Owain ap Gruffyd, King of Powys.”
Your ears prick up at this. “How so? What of Madog,?”
“King Madog ap Maredudd, alas, has been taken from us as he died heroically in the recent battle, and now surely resides by Christ’s bosom.”
“So what do you want of me? Peace?”
Hywel leans towards a young man and murmurs into his ear. The man seems to be in his early twenties and bears a haughty look. He has a long, gaunt face with hollow cheeks, thin lips and deep black eyes. His head of thick black hair that falls down to his shoulders is crowned with a silver coronet. He is obviously the Prince Owain of Powys.
The prince talks to his interpreter in Welsh before Hywel addresses you. “My Lord King is the rightful sovereign of Powys and is so recognised by all the lords and the people of Powys. However, Gwynedd, whose soldiers control all the major strongholds in Powys including Mathrafal, where all our kings have been acclaimed since the dawn of time. They recognise a usurper, Bleddyn ap Moriddig who is cousing of the late King, as ruler of Powys and it is only thanks to the help of Christ and His Angels that King Owain managed to escape with his life from the assassin’s blade.”
You give him a derisory stare. “What do petty arguments over petty princedoms concern me?”
Hywel bridles at the insult. “My lord, Gwynedd is no friend of yours. It is the major partner in the alliance that fought against you only a few hours ago and their ties with Robert of Gloucester are strong.” He pauses. “Furthermore, if am not mistaken, has not Gloucester’s defiance extended somewhat further than this fair country?”
You look at him with cold hard eyes as he reveals his hand. You give a brief nod.
He continues. “Though the battle has claimed the lives of many brave Welsh warriors, the Lord has surely smiled on the soldiers of Powys, most of whom, thanks be to God, have survived. Unless I am yet more mistaken, as your majesty will want to return to your lands with all haste, you will no doubt want to march down the valley of the Usk. The Usk is a narrow valley, with steep, high hills. A handful of men could cause much damage to anyone marching through.”
You give a wry smile. “So what do you want?”
“We require soldiers. Though King Owain has the wholehearted support of the people and of Righteousness, and though the army of Gwynedd has been shattered, they still control many fortresses. To reduce these strongholds we will need good, heavy soldiers. Furthermore, our people have suffered much hardship due the devastation of the Wye valley. We fear famine this winter. If the Usk is also to burned, our people will be severely weakened and Gwynedd will find their task of subjecting Powys all the easier. We therefore request that twenty-five carts of grain be delivered before the first frost and that you refrain from pillaging the Usk valley. We shall supply you with whatever food we have and we shall assure you of safe conduct and in return you will give us three hundred men-at-arms. Do we have an agreement?”

[Lord Winter]

I think we should agree, While we cant easily spare 300 men at arms, The welsh could probably kill off close to 300 in ambushes or worse a few loyal lords. The soldiers it sounds like will go to good use and we could possibly turn the welsh in to a political puppet.

[AntiochusIII]

Now, first of all: Powys is as desperate as you are. That disaster at Dinas Bran was crippling to all because of the mass slaughter of Welsh nobles.

Second, their only bargains are:

1. To support you in the up-and-coming struggle, probably step up the raids...IF they survive the crisis in Welsh power structure that we initiated.

2. To leave you alone throughout the dangerous march.

We do not know the temper of this Welsh prince, and how trustworthy he could be. With those men-at-arms gone, he could've easily backstabbed us. Or he might not. Desperation breeds randomness. They might become our invaluable ally on the backs of the rebellious Anglos, or they might betray us at first opportunity.

Now, their demands include these two things:

1. We have to give up 300 fine English men-at-arms for them to defeat Gwynedd, allowing Powys to dominate what's left of the Welsh, presumably. If he loses, though, Gwynedd will dominate what is left.

2. We cannot forage the Usk valley for food.

The first is obviously detrimental, the second might actually speed us up if we are well-supplied, or not.

The benefits are to reduce the chance of Powys bogging us down, and probably gain an ally behind the enemy lines. The detriments include the loss of three hundred precious soldiers and the possibility of betrayal.

I would not be so decisive but propose back to him to aid us immediately in trying to catch, or bog down, Robert of Gloucester. This is what we truly need. If he can't give us this, I don't see the point of allying with him: the risks of a Welsh ambush may be unattractive, but what teeth does this viper has after so hard a fall? Why lose the precious warriors now that their iron fists might soon be needed? Besides, the troops would absolutely aware that something is not right when you allow the recently defeated foe to have three hundred of your men away for safe passage home...

In truth, I'd rather fancy gaining Powys as an ally and the dominant force in Wales, rather than Gwynedd, as it is much closer to the majority of the Marcher Lords, and you will have its gratitude (presumably), while Gwynedd might go on to disturb Chester, our possible destination. But the cost they're demanding is not worth it. Remember, our army is barely above (less?) the thousandth mark. Three hundred is a lot.

[King Henry V]

As with all diplomacy, the terms are negotiable.

[King Kurt]

We should negociate with this Welsh prince. We should include in our demands
1) The capture, or at least, knowledge of where he is, of Robert of Gloucester.
2) A hostage of suitable rank.
3) We should only give them 200 men - our force is small, so its size is relative. In fact a smaller force might be swifter. We need to get to England quickly and raise an army.
4) We should issue our potential welsh allies permission to raid our enemies - would help with tieing them down. I would see this a bit like a letter of marque issued to privateers.~:cheers:

[Kraxis]

Ok this could very well be dangerous.

If Powys is strongenough to ambush us, and their army managed to survive, mostly, then why do they need our troops?
Either it could be a trap or they are bluffing. I estimate the last. We could likely survive the trek home without much trouble. But!

Since they are bluffing they are also sincere. They would prefer us as friends.
Thus I propose that they get not a single soldier until we are out... Meaning we have the entire army with us.
The prince will travel under our protection with whatever bodyguards he has until that point (hostage, but strong enough to help in case of Gwynedd attacks).
At that time we hand over enough troops to help him subdue Mathrafal, I suspect 150-200 will be more than enough. That should firmly set him on the throne in the view of the troops and people.
When that is done we should be home taking stock of the matters at home and in a better position to see if we can help with a few more troops to gain an ally/puppet (we should demand that for the help), or rather leave Wales in an almost perfect unbalance where neither side is strong enough to overwhelm the other within a good time.
Food they can get when we get out, it is not a major matter out there, in here it is. The food we have will last us out of Wales, it is doubtful Powys can/will provide enough for us when they demand food in the first place.

We must remember we are the strong party here, so we are the ones to make the demands, and I think my demands are fair enough to get a positive response.

Should it be forcibly rejected we could still take him hostage. And while in our custody be treated nicely, shown that we had no intentions of tricking him and at the end still hold our deal of the bargain open. The time it would take to get out would likely see him calm down a bit and be more open to our suggestion.

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
:yes:
.

[Flavius Clemens]

Kraxis' plan sounds good to me.

[AntiochusIII]

Kraxis' plan sounds good to me.Agreed. The master has spoken. And, more importantly, he makes sense! :2thumbsup:

Powys as an ally will calm the Welsh border down for years. That prince couldn't possibly defeat Gwynedd on his own without outside (ours) intervention or we've given too much force. With two contending powers (we bolstering Powys enough for it to stand), the majority of the Welsh military strength, or what's left of it, will be bogged down for years.

But, as always, from now on Wales is secondary. The English throne comes first. Gain as much advantage as possible from this ordeal.

[Kommodus]

Kraxis' plan sounds good to me.

Here, here! ~:cheers:

I can't help but remember one of Kraxis's earlier alternate histories, in which people voted to give a large part of the Seleucid army to a Pontic prince, in exchange for his promise to be an ally and supply troops once he had defeated his rival. That didn't turn out so good - he mismanaged his opportunity and ended up losing, and thus never delivered on his promises.

The point is this: it's rarely, if ever, a good idea to just give away a part of your force, especially to leaders you just met and have little cause to trust. They might squander our excellent men-at-arms and lose their battle anyway, or they might just turn on us.

Kraxis's plan to turn over 150-200 troops once we are out of Wales might be fine; I have my reservations on it and would prefer to keep our whole army - we'll need every man for the coming fight. We should at least agree not to pillage Usk, as long as we have enough food to get out of Wales without starving.

[King Henry V]

Sorry for the delay, but I'm on half term hols at the moment.
Enjoy.
You ponder for a few moments before giving your answer. “You may inform his highness,” you tell Hywel ap Madyn, “that he has my recognition as the rightful Prince of Powys and will have my support along with the twenty-five wagons of grain and promises to refrain my army from plundering his subjects. However, I cannot spare three hundred soldiers and nor will I do so at the present time. Once my army is on safe territory I will despatch to you two hundred men-at-arms at the earliest possible opportunity and not before. Furthermore, the Prince Owain will pay homage to me and recognise me as his suzerain. He will also accompany the army on its journey home as testimony to your good will and to stop your rasher countrymen from molesting my forces.”
“This is preposterous!” Hywel protests. “My King will never accept such an affront to his dignity in being reduced to a hostage!”
“At the moment your “king” is nothing but a lord of sheep, grass and rocks by your own admission. You will tell your princeling my terms.”
Hywel jabbers away in Welsh at the prince for a few moments. After your terms are translated, Owain gives you a sneer and spits on the ground before saying his answer, no doubt heavily laden with profanities.
“My Lord King refuses to accompany you as hostage,” Hywel says flatly.
“Then you may inform your lord that if does not come willingly, then I shall make him come. My guards are amongst the most feared knights in Christendom. It is they who slaughtered an army twice their size yesterday and your puny horsemen that accompany you will prove no match. If you try to escape, be warned that I have some of the finest crossbowmen who can hit a hare’s heart at two hundred paces and who will find your prince an easy target.
“You may also tell Prince Owain that if he does not ride with me then he will receive no succour whatsoever on my part and so may either run away to fester in some foreign land as a prince without a princedom, or fling himself on the ground in front of Owain of Gwynedd and beg for mercy. It is your choice.”
Hywel is indignant but nonetheless translates for his lord. Owain reluctantly nods his head in approval of the terms with a sullen expression.
You give them a genial smile and bow. “Then it seems we have an agreement.”

The rest of the day is spent burying the English and Powysian dead in a great communal pit, overseen by an English and Welsh priest. The nobles who were killed are given their own graves, as well as Madog, the late ruler of Powys. As the day progresses, the pile of corpses in the pit grows as the grievously wounded lose their fight for survival and die. By the next morning, most of the casualties’ fate has been decided.
It is on that day that you hold a council of the barons and formally receive the Prince Owain in the ceremony of vassalage. You are seated on a plain wooden stool over which has been draped a swathe of scarlet silk. Owain, flanked by his retainers, advances up to you. He kneels down, raises you foot and bends forward to kiss it, recognising you as his suzerain and overlord, to whom he owes all his lands and riches. His act of homage done, you bid him to rise and give him the kiss of peace, accepting him as your vassal.
A Bible is then brought forward, upon which he rests his hand and swears an oath of loyalty to you. You formally recognise him in front of the barons as the rightful Prince of Powys, in the presence of a couple of local priests. Two parchments are brought forward, each a copy of the terms of fealty and alliance, including the support you will give Owain against his enemies. You both set your seals to each sheet. England and Powys are now allies.
The last pieces of business are dealt with that day. Several squires who fought valiantly in the battle are knighted, including the commander of the garrison left behind whose sortie was so decisive in the outcome of that battle. The commander, Humphrey of Rouen, will be given a fiefdom with a fine castle in the earldom of Worcester. Little does he know that he may have to fight hard to keep his newly acquired gains.
Two days after the great battle, the remaining wounded are loaded onto the empty food carts and your army limps home, accompanied by Prince Owain and his retainers, minus a horseman to order his countrymen living on the Usk not to molest or oppose your army. Dinas Bran is abandoned and you leave the festering corpses behind to the swarms crows and ravens that gather to feast on the carrion.
Within a few days the valley becomes a narrow tunnel with the Black Mountains to North East and the Brecon Beacons to the South West. It is a place perfect for ambush but no enemies harass your passing army. The local peasants grudgingly share their food, though there is little of it and mostly consists of unripe fruit since the peasants jealously guard their precious livestock.
The Prince is given his own tent and you provide him with a half a dozen servants, including a cook, as befits his royal status. He wears a sword, roams freely around the camp and is invited to dine with you and your nobles each night. However, despite this apparent freedom, a couple of soldiers shadow him as discreetly as possible, should Owain be foolish enough to attempt to escape, although the guards have strict orders not to harm the Prince in such an instance, only to restrain him. Likewise, during the day four men are given the fleetest horses that you have and powerful crossbows to shoot the Powysian Prince’s horse from under him if he decides to suddenly gallop away.
As the day light slips away for the third time since you left Dinas Bran, you reach the point where the valley broadens; the Anglo-Welsh border. That night, as you camp in the river’s crook, you give your permission for Owain to leave. His baggage is hastily packed away and within an hour he bids you a curt fare well and rides off with his followers into the night, back to Wales.
The following dawn you cross over into England. Even after passing the battle-scarred region along the border, the land seems strangely quiet. Several wooden castles are garrisoned with troops, yet none leave the safety of their walls to inspect your passing army. The local population, at the sight of armed men, quickly scurry away into their hovels.
By mid afternoon you reach the town of Usk. It is an old settlement, and many fragments of its Roman past still remain, though it is dominated by the great castle that looms to the northwest, standing guard over the town on a steep hill. It is a strong castle, boasting stout timber walls, a deep ditch flooded and a great stone keep.
Messengers who were sent ahead to reconnoitre the land in the morning had confirmed that Gilbert of Clare’s castellan still held the castle and that you would be given shelter.
As you ride under the gate’s archway by Gilbert’s side, the castellan, a balding man whose remaining hair is streaked with grey and whose nose juts out from his face like the prow of a ship, runs out of the keep and bows down to his lord and to you.
“May God be praised! You are safe!” he cries. “We had heard the most terrible tidings.”
“What did you hear?” you ask him.
“I heard tales that you were dead, that you had perished with your entire army, cut to pieces by hordes of Welsh savages. The kingdom is now in turmoil, several barons have raided their neighbours’ lands and bands of brigands have closed off many of the roads to all those who have a care for their lives
You curse. “What of Robert of Gloucester? Do you have any tidings of him?”
“It was Robert who returned from Wales with the news that you were dead, my Lord. He remained only a few hours before riding with two hundred knights to London where it is said he will acclaim the Countess of Anjou as Queen.”
“Have you news of my family? Where is the queen?” you ask him urgently.
“The last tidings I heard said that the Queen was in Kent, at her castle of Leeds.”
This news brings you some relief that your family will probably be safe. Your wife, Maud, is a shrewd woman and will not be gulled by Robert’s promises of safety. Hopefully, she has already made for the coast where she may catch ship for her native Boulogne.
“And of mine?” Gilbert asks his castellan with a look of concern.
“Your wife and children are safe, lord, and reside at Chepstow. They are much grieved by these foul rumours and will for certes be overjoyed to see you.”
The survivors of the army settle down and rest, whilst a lunch of bread and cheese is handed out to your hungry army. You ravenously devour a platter of roast beef with your barons in the great hall before further quizzing the castellan of the situation in the Marches.
“What have you heard of Monmouth?”
“Monmouth has been garrisoned by a small band of knights and men-at-arms, barely a hundred men, all followers of the Earl of Gloucester. Many towns along the Severn have declared for Robert when they heard news of your death, lord. It is the nature of people to change with the strongest blowing wind.”
You give a sullen grunt. “Is Worcester still loyal?”
“Sire, in truth I know only what I heard when I was in Hereford on matters of business for my Lord Gilbert. It was there that the messengers of Robert first arrived and I decided to return to Usk forthwith lest the wave of chaos overwhelm it.”
“Hereford? Then you must have news of my brother, Henry. Was he not overseeing the supplying of my army there?”
“My Lord Bishop was indeed in Hereford but he abandoned the place within a few hours of the first messenger arriving. It seems that he did not wish to linger around for the arrival of Robert of Gloucester and rode off for Winchester.”
You chuckle sardonically. “That I can well believe. My brother has always been very cunning in matters of state.”
Perhaps he should have been the king and you the clergyman, you mutter to yourself.
As the evening winds on, the nobles gather for a council.
Robert of Leicester advocates that you lead the entire army through the Midlands, where he holds large fiefdoms where he may call more men to the army. He is certain that Worcester still holds out, and from there you may travel to London. By that time, he reassures you, news that you are alive will have reached the city and Robert of Gloucester will be repulsed.
Several of the barons disagree strongly, as they do not wish to stray to far from their lands. “Sire, the southern Welsh Marches are not yet secure and Gloucester’s supporters still hold many castles, notably Monmouth.” one of them says. “I say that we consolidate our position before venturing further afield.”
Gilbert of Clare lends his advice. “My liege, my castle of Chepstow stands guard over the Usk estuary, whose deep bed makes it a superb natural harbour. At any one time there are several ships there. If I am not mistaken, the castle of Dunster and Bampton are declared for Robert. If we were to embark say three to four hundred soldiers on to ships, we could sail across the Bristol Channel and land on the northern coast of the shire of Devon. We could then swoop down on the two castles and storm them. Their castellans will never expect such a bold move and we could easily take two very important castles with little loss of life. However, it is true that troops are needed to consolidate our position in the Marches. Therefore I propose that after taking these castles, the soldiers should be embarked on their ships again and return to the Marches, leaving a garrison behind. Meanwhile, your majesty should travel anonymously, so as to attract the least attention to yourself, to London. Unencumbered by an army, your progress will be quick and you will be able to raise an army in the eastern shires of the realm.”

You must decide on what action is to be taken:
1.Listen to Robert Beaumont's advice and lead the army across enemy territory and into the lands where he is sure that you will gain support. Such a large force will no doubt attract the attention of the enemy, but the Earl of Leicester is confident that the army will be able to defeat anything thrown against it.
2.Heed the counsel of the Marcher lords and consolidate your position in the souther Marches, as it will prove a good base. In taking Monmouth, you can start to build a chain of strongholds that will cut the rebel lands in two and ensure a line of communication between the southern Marches and the rest of the realm.
3.Follow Gilbert of Clare's plan and sail across the Bristol Channel to attack the rebel castles in northern Devon, and from there ride across southern England to London, alone but for a few knights. It is a daring and risky plan, but it could pay great dividends if it succeeded.

[Kraxis]

Tough one...

1) is very tempting. We need to be seen to gather support, to rally the undecided and those who have reluctantly joined the traitors.
At the same time we are not very strong right now, a fieldbattle could very well end us right away.

2) This is tempting for it's security. If anything it will have us last longer, give us more options and chances. Sadly given too long time th undecided might join the traitors and the reluctant joiners could be swayed by getting too deep into the 'rebellion'. We could very well end up being severely outnumbered and outmaneuvered.

3) The lure of this option lies in the simple fact that we can relatively easy get hold of important positions, while we stay relatively secure. But this could be even more dangerous than 1 in that it is exactly what the opposing side in a normal succession power-struggle would do, limited strikes. Our person would become very anonymous, and very much at personal risk while traveling.

GAH!!!

But given how I argued for my choices last chapter, I would have to continue it and go for 1. But I'm anything but certain so I reserve the right to change it, if anyone else can argue for the others well enough.

[King Kurt]

I think option 1 is the best. We need to keep our resources together and need to move to an area which is friendly. Also the Midlands means that we can strike in any direction.
Option 2 is too cautious. The Welsh Marches is too far away from the centre of power and, as the Welsh are subdued, we need not fear trouble on that count.
The worse part of option 3 is the King's ride to London - Stephen must be visible as Robert's spread of news of his death is the main agent of insurection - also he will be highly susceptable to capture or death.
The only drawback of 1 is a possible battle - but, hey, we can handle that!!~:cheers:

[Flavius Clemens]

I think option 3 is too dangerous - heading off with only a few knights could be a quick way to an anonymous death. I'm torn between the other two options - consolidation appeals to me, but I think option 1 is better - Stephen needs the bold move and to reach the heart of the kingdom to sway the hesitant before Robert's momentum attracts more and more support.

[AntiochusIII]

Wow. Really tough choices. Anyway, at least we finally got the big picture of things.

Let's see:

1) Has many supporters: it will be the big plan into the heart of the kingdom, facing Gloucester head on, gathering as much supporters as possible for a battle -- or a series of battles -- with Hasting's level of importance. A very high risk of being crushed by superior force, or, hopefully, a Dinas Bran repeat.

2) Effective consolidation and preparation. Stephen will also be visible, albeit not aggressively visible the 1th way. Unfortunately, we're too far from England's power bases. Those are what we want, not some borderlands near a rather hostile Wales. There are forces untapped which, if we cannot tap, at least prevent the rebels from tapping them.

3) Also consolidation, but Stephen will be extremely risky on his way to London. Besides, what's a general without an army? Why would Londoners support a toothless king?

Personally I'd prefer a combination of two and three without Stephen going anywhere, so to consolidate as much as possible, but that's an MTW thinking (strike and build up, rinse and repeat). This is real game. If we don't gather as much England as possible then all of England is against us, plain and simple.

Number One. Let's waste some English blood.

[Lord Winter]

1 seems a little risky. Too many ifs but in the face of no other options

ONE go through and try to crush as many as possiable.

[Ludens]

I also prefer option one, though I would like to know how essential Worcester's loyalty will be for this plan. We cannot take for granted that they haven't joined Gloucester, and the way Henry V formulated the options it sounds like their loyalty could make or break the success of this plan.

However, last time I advocated an aggressive advance into enemy territory it almost went wrong, so perhaps I don't have the right to speak ~D .

[Kommodus]

Perhaps it matters little, but I'm gonna vote #3 on this one.

At first I didn't like it, because I wanted to counteract Gloucester's false reports as quickly as possible, making it obvious that Stephen was both alive and a force to be reckoned with. For this objective, #1 looked best. But then I realized, if Stephen travels quickly with just a few knights, he'll arrive in London as quickly as any news would. Wouldn't it be great to announce that Stephen is not only alive, but back in London and raising an army? Meanwhile, we'd seize some important positions from Gloucester's supporters and secure the southern Marches. All that combined should be enough to sway any wavering vassals to Stephen's side.

Option #1 may seem less risky since Stephen travels with his army, but it could go wrong too. Our army is weakened, and we may face a field battle before we're ready. Also, at our plodding pace, we may not reach London before it falls to Gloucester's men. The city may be able to hold out on its own, but information on the likelihood of this is sketchy.

As for option #2, I fail to see how it's in Stephen's advantage to build up his base in the western lands of Britain, near the Welsh border. It seems much better to try to centralize himself in the east, in the nation's actual power center.

[Csargo]

One its gotta be one.

[Ludens]

Any update on this? I would feel really bad if we managed to save his life in Wales just to lose him upon return to England.

[King Henry V]

Sorry, my creative juices were a bit broken when my grandmother came and strictly limited my time on the PC, however, I have just written a paragraph, though I am a bit busy at the moment with exams. :book:

[Ludens]

Sorry, my creative juices were a bit broken when my grandmother came and strictly limited my time on the PC, however, I have just written a paragraph, though I am a bit busy at the moment with exams. :book:
I see. Well, I am also a bit too busy to waste time with interactive histories so it is probably for the best. Still, let us know when you are able to resume writing ~:thumb: .

[Mouzafphaerre]

.
Belated good luck with the exams! I still gotta read the last half page. :computer:
.

[King Henry V]

Well, after four months I have finally completed the next installment! Sorry for the huge delay.

----------------------------

You inform the nobles of your decision that you will lead the army across the rebel lands and into Beaumont’s Midland fiefdoms, where you can hope to strengthen your army before marching on London.
There is a look of disappointment on the barons’ faces as you tell them. They have marched with you deep into Wales, they have fought hard to gain a crushing if costly victory against the Welsh and now having returned to safe territory to find the realm in crisis and enemies in their midst, they are not permitted to deal with these enemies and leave their homes in safety before once again venturing forth into hostile lands.
Nevertheless, they will follow along with the rest of the exhausted army.
All the barons will be allowed a week’s leave during which they may return to their lands and deal with any urgent business, raise any more soldiers than can be found, gather more supplies and collect the scutage money form those who do not fight to deal with shortages in manpower or food. A week from today, the barons are to meet your army in Monmouth, which you are to secure in the mean time. To do so, you and Robert of Leicester will command the rest of the army in a lightning strike against the Angevin garrison of the town. Together, you hatch a plan.
Firstly, six squires shall ride into the town two days from now. They will wait until evening the next day before carrying out their mission: one will create a diversion in the town whilst the other two attempt to open the town’s main gate. Outside the town will wait all your horsemen, who shall ride through the gate to seize Monmouth once your squires give the signal.
With the town taken, the cavalry will hold Monmouth until the arrival of the footmen of your army, which will storm the castle should it still hold out.
You lay out the plans of battle to Robert, who nods his head and raises his goblet of malmsey wine in a toast.
“To victory”, he says.
“To victory,” you repeat.
And on to Monmouth.

The rain drizzled down heavily, pouring off helmets and drenching every man to the skin. The rain soaks through the ground, turning the narrow track into a boggy mire, the thick mud sucking men’s boots further into the brown morass. Men shout and curse as they heave carts out of the mud and pray for the rain to stop.
It is now two days since you left Monmouth. Your plan to capture the town was a success. Everything proceeded according to plan, and the town and the castle fell with little loss to your soldiers. The commanders of the Angevin garrison are dead and their corpses now rot in the castle ditch, where the ravens feast on their putrid flesh.
The townspeople of Monmouth seemed relatively indifferent to the change of control and have accepted you as their rightful ruler. You left behind a garrison of 80 spearmen and men-at-arms commanded by one of Gilbert of Clare’s knights.
As agreed, the Marcher barons met you at Monmouth one week after they left Usk, and you now have an army of two hundred knights, three hundred and fifty mounted and dismounted men-at-arms, two hundred spearmen and seventy-five bowmen.
Many of your men are mercenaries hired with the scutage tax and the remaining gold of your lords. Their Welsh estates are now hard pressed both financially and militarily, and they are unhappy fighting a prolonged campaign far from their lands while Angevin lords still remain a threat closer to home. Few of your barons will continue with you much further than Worcester.
Robert of Leicester has already departed for Worcester with a handful of his knights, from which you are now one and a half day’s march away.
Thick mist shrouds your column, and those at the rear can barely see those at the front. The woods that flank the track are faintly visible. You shiver from the cold and pull your cloak more tightly around your shoulders in an effort to keep warm.
After a while the rain ceases, yet the fog still remains as impenetrable as ever. Soon you approach a stream, swollen by the heavy spring rains, over which has been built a small wooden bridge, barely large enough to permit the crossing of carts. The first of your men cross the bridge. A knight’s mount stalls as it approaches the bridge. It snorts and whinnies and attempts to shy away from the crossing. The knight angrily digs his heels into his horse’s flanks and yanks at the reins, forcing the horse to cross.
Following behind you and your royal guard is the baggage train, where the food, drink, arrows and tents for your army are carried in heavy carts pulled by stout shire horses. After your cross the bridge, you hear shouts and curses as the first of the carts become stuck in a rut before the bridge. You take no notice of it and order the rest of the column to carry on.
It is then that a horn sounds, its deep loud tone piercing through the fog. You twist to the right in your saddle to where the sound came from. You see vague shapes at the tree line. Then you hear the unmistakable sound of massed horses’ hooves thumping down on the ground. You see the glint of steel in the faint sun. Your men see it also, and soon the entire first part of the column disintegrates into chaos as the dismounted peasant spearmen run for their lives.
You draw your sword, but you know that resistance is hopeless. The horsemen are about to cut off your retreat at the bridge, so you turn your horse to the left and spur it on. As the horse gallops away from the pursuing enemy, you spot a small hill in the mist about fifty yards away. The slope is quite steep, which could perhaps help to stop a cavalry charge. It is your only hope.
“To the hill!” you cry. “To the hill!”
The men-at-arms and knights, more seasoned in warfare, hear you cry and rally to you. However, the spearmen, poorly trained and armed, are not so clear-headed. Panic engulfs and they flee in all directions, making the easiest targets for the horsemen at their heels. You hear the first cries of pain as the knights slash down their swords or thrust their long lances into the fleeing spearmen.
However, the enemy are distracted by this easy prey and ruthlessly pursue the hapless spearmen across the sodden ground, giving the knights and men-at-arms around you to group together and reach the mound. You form a small rearguard of knights to protect your retreating footmen from any of your pursuers who approach too near.
You wheel your horse around to face a charging knight, screaming at the top of his voice and his lance tilted and poised to impale your chest. You lower your sword. Just as the lance is about to pass your horse’s head, you flash your sword round, deflect the tip from your body and slash the blade at the rider’s unprotected neck. Blood splashes across your face as the sword partially decapitates your adversary.
You turn your horse and spur it on to the mound, leaving the dead horseman’s body limp in the saddle.
At the bridge, the rebels are vociferously attacking your men, pinning down the rest of the column and preventing them from coming to your aid. You are now completely cut off from all relief. Some of the horsemen try to cross the stream, yet the rain-swollen waters are too deep to allow them that.
By now most of your group has reached the hillock. The knoll resembles one of the burial mounds that you have seen elsewhere, built by one of the old peoples who inhabited the land of England long before your grandfather conquered it and even perhaps before the English did so themselves.
Your order the knights to dismount and the soldiers to form a wall with their shields around the rim of the steep slope. Your banner of the Centaur, which your guard rescued from the chaos, flutters lightly in the feeble wind. More enemy soldiers arrive from the trees, including a large party of knights carrying their own banner. You see the coat of arms of Robert of Gloucester, and recognise a dark haired, stocky man barking out orders to his knights as one of Robert’s castellans, Miles, castellan of Gloucester.
You roughly count about four hundred men, more than enough to hold off the rest of your army and destroy you and your small group of men. The rain begins again and you see Miles’ knights regrouping after having slaughtered every visible spearman without mercy. You order the men to tighten their ranks and make sure every shield is firm. Sixty swordsmen against more than a hundred knights. It will be a close fight indeed. However, hopefully the tactic that served your uncle the King so well at the battle of Brémule will serve you here. Perhaps you were ill advised to proceed this way.
The captain of your guard, Ranulf, approaches you.
“Sire, you must leave now, while you have the chance!” he implores your.
“No! I shall not run away like a coward. I shall not! Do you think I have forgotten what happened to my father? Even my own mother thought him a coward for abandoning Antioch. I shall not allow the same to be thought of me.”
“My lord, your father was a brave and noble man, and no man can be ignorant of his valour, not when he gave his life in the end to free the Holy Land of the infidel. Some spoke a harsh and untrue word against him, yet they now surely know the falsehood of their words. But sire, I beg of you, think of your family and your followers. Think of what would happen to them should you this day or be captured. You must save yourself for their sake.”
You remain silent. The enemy knights charge.
“Ready!” you cry.
The knights gallop at you in a confused fashion, arrogantly disdaining a tightly packed formation, as they see no reason why you won’t be as easy prey as the spearmen. The speed of their charge is slightly broken by the mound’s slope, yet the horsemen still crash into your shield wall with a ferocious force, and it at first seems as though your men will give way at any moment. However, the wall begins to stiffen and soon it becomes apparent that the tactic that served King Henry so well at Bremule almost twenty years ago will be equally as successful here. The horsemen desperately try to hack a way through your lines, yet to no avail. They know that the impetus of their charge is lost. The knights withdraw.
The carnage of the short fight is now visible. Bodies of men and horses are strewn all over the slope and rim of the mound in the shape of a gruesome half-moon. Your men also suffered heavy casualties. Of the sixty men your first had, twelve are now dead and six are wounded. The shield wall is now pitifully small, and you know that you cannot hold out for much longer.
“Sire we cannot repulse the enemy many more times.” Ranulf says. “Perhaps once more, but a second charge would surely kill us all. If you remain here, I shall fight on until my last heartbeat and we shall all die. If you depart whilst you have the chance, then we may surrender with the knowledge that our sovereign is safe. I implore you, please think quickly on what you shall do.”
You look at the grim faces of the knights and men-at-arms and contemplate on your captain’s advice. Think of your family. For their sake alone, you cannot abandon them.
You slowly nod your head. Ranulf breathes a sigh of relief. You exchange surcoats with a knight and you are given what little food your men have on them, as well as a small wooden crossbow with a quiver of bolts. A knight leads your horse behind the mound, out of sight of the enemy. You mount your horse.
Ranulf takes your hand and kisses the ring. “May God go with you, my lord.”
“And you,” you reply.
And you spur your steed towards the distant, mist-shrouded woods, unnoticed by the enemy. You dare not approach the stream lest you fall on Miles of Gloucester’s men, so you ride in the direction of Worcester, where you hope to find Robert Beaumont and his men.
As you reach the trees, your rein in your horse. You can still see your men on the mound and your banner in the distance. The banner is lowered, and the knights and men-at-arms kneel in surrender.


You awake early the next morning, huddled under you cloak as you lie on the cold forest floor. Your clothes are damp, your muscles ache and every movement brings a flood of pain. Your stomach rumbles, and you bite into a piece of stale black bread. After finishing your meagre breakfast, you haul yourself up onto your feet. You untie your horse’s tether and wearily pull yourself up into the saddle. You don’t know precisely where you are, you don’t even know in which direction you should ride to reach Worcester. You dare not approach any villages or taverns, lest you fall upon a group of horsemen looking for you, as Miles of Gloucester has surely learnt that you evaded capture.
Nevertheless, you spur you horse on towards where you hope lies Worcester.

You knew you weren’t alone as soon as you had crossed the stream. As much as you twisted around in your saddle, you still couldn’t see anyone in the woods, but an instinct knew there was someone there. You halt your horse and take the crossbow out of your saddlebag. You pull back the bowstring onto the snag and place a bolt on the bow before replacing it in your saddle. You ride on.
As you go down a dip, you hear a rustle of leaves. Two horsemen appear from the trees in front of you, swords drawn. You turn round to see another knight some yards behind you. You rein in your horse once again.
“My lord, if you would be so kind as to drop your sword and any other weapons you may have on you, no harm need come to you,” says one of the knights in front of you. “However, my lord the Earl of Gloucester has given me every licence to take whatever means necessary in…disabling you. Naturally, I hope that you choose the most peaceful method.”
“Indeed I shall,” you reply and pull the crossbow out of the bag and shoot it at the knight. The bolt plunges into his belly and you pull your sword from your scabbard. You charge at the other knight and your swords meet, sliding off each other with a sharp sound. You feint with your sword, then bring it down and thrust it into your opponent’s chest. You charge back down the dip towards the last horsemen. You can tell from the position of his arm that he will make a slash at you head, so you duck at the last minute. The blow passes over you and you swing your sword round into the knight’s unprotected back. The rider cries out in pain, and you stab him in the back to kill him.
You then hear the sound of more horses’ hooves, so you gallop off in the opposite direction. Six more riders appear behind you, and you dig your heels into the horse’s sides to spur it on. You duck as branches whiz past you and hold on to your saddle as it leaps over rotten tree trunks. You turn to look back for a moment, and see that your pursuers are getting closer. You know that you can’t keep ahead for much longer.
You see the end of the trees two hundred yards away and are determined to push on. The nearest of your pursuers is but fifteen yards behind you. After what seems an age, you finally ride through the tree line into the open fields. You can almost hear the rider’s breathing behind you. And then, you see it, one of the most glorious site you have ever seen. An army. Robert of Leicester’s army.
You whoop for joy as your horse thunders across the fields to Leicester’s men. Your pursuers, seeing the army, halt and turn back.
“Halt!” commands one of the knights flanking the column as you approach it.
“Who goes there?” the knight demands.
“I am Stephen, King of England and Duke of Normandy.”

Robert of Leicester has succeeded in raising a force of three hundred and fifty knights and men-at-arms, half of which are mounted. He informs you that Robert of Gloucester has already made for London with two hundred knights. Your brother Henry, Bishop of Winchester, has made for his see, and reports say that he remains in control of both the royal and the Episcopal castles, and most importantly of all, the treasury. Your wife, Queen Maud, far from escaping to her native Boulogne, has ridden with her knights from Kent for London, where she appears to have the overwhelming support of the guilds and the people.

You now have two options.

1. Lead Robert of Leicester’s men towards Monmouth, in the hope of linking up with the Welsh barons’ army, which you were forced to leave the day before. You would then have an army of almost one thousand men. However, you do not know where that army is nor whether or not it has retreated to the Marches, owing to the unresolved situation there. Do not forget that Miles of Gloucester, a most formidable commander, has a force of at least five hundred men and is also near.
2. Take Robert Beaumont’s knights and ride immediately for London, hopefully arriving in time to reinforce your wife against Robert of Gloucester. The men-at-arms would then fall back to Worcester and consolidate your position in the Midlands.

[Csargo]

I am for option 2.

[AntiochusIII]

He's back! Woohoo!

...and that really sucks for us. Our guys are wiped out! :furious3: Well, at least Stephen proves his mettle with that little encounter.

Now, to the choices:

1) That would allow us, again, to consolidate; albeit with a greater risk than before. I wonder though: how does Gloucester knows your move? Some of the barons must've betrayed us! Ah well, they're far away now. I'm wondering though, would that Welsh border army be adequate for a prolonged fight? And surely that is what Gloucester expects us to do?

2) Very risky, just like this chapter. Gloucester might or might not have a great numerical advantage, but at least there is a measure of support gathering around the queen which, unless we intervene directly, will be squashed in no time. The problem is yet another encounter like that which would royally screw Stephen up.

From my impetuous inconsideration, I choose Choice 2. There's no point "consolidating" while the home base is being overrun. Besides, this make for a more ruthlessly aggressive Interactive History. ~;) If Stephen reaches his wife then there's a chance to defeat Gloucester right where we need to: London.

[Ludens]

Both options are risky. Linking up with Marcher Lords gives us greater power, but we don't know where they are and how they will respond to the latest debacle. The alternative leaves us more vulnerable, but it is also unexpected and allows us to protect two important holdings. Therefor, I prefer option 2.


On second thought, isn't Stephen's wife the same Maud that later fought against him? Does any knowledgable member know exactly when she decided to make her own claim? It would be disasterous if we reached London only to find out that Maud has turned against us.

[King Henry V]

Queen Maud (English version of Matilda) certainly did not fight against her husband. In fact, when he was captured at Lincoln in 1141, she refused to submit to Stephen's rival, the Empress Matilda (somtimes also referred to as Maud) and organised the fightback with William of Ypres, which led to the Rout of Winchester, which nullified nearly all of the Empress's gains during that year (Gloucester, who was captured, was exchanged for Stephen).

[Ludens]

Thanks for the information. I was confused by the queen's name.

[Kommodus]

Option #2, definitely, for these reasons:

1. The quicker we strike Gloucester, the head of the rebellion, the better.
2. Stephen should not leave his wife to face Gloucester alone. With his current army plus her force, he should have enough to defeat Gloucester's 200 knights.

[King Kurt]

Good to see King Stephen back - my inclination is to go with option 2 - strike at the heart of the problem and move the focus of the whole of the affair to the centre of government as opposed to the edges. The Welsh marches can be sorted out in due course, but we should put the kingdom as a whole right first.

[Flavius Clemens]

Option 2 - we need to see things through to the heart of the matter.
But it is important that we get a message through to the other forces to let them know Stephen wasn't captured and the fight continues, to keep up their morale and battle against local enemy forces.

[Prince Cobra]

There are not many rulers called Stephen. And I definately can not let a king with such a good name to lose his crown. Ok, Lord of Gloucester, one day you will fall and this day is coming. And then the death of Baldwin of Exter will be a nice dream of yours...
Option two. The first one is too risky.

[King Henry V]

The story of our blessed sovereign, Stephen of Blis, King of the English and Duke of the Normans, will return shortly. I am just penning the big scene, afterwhich I shall type it up and post it.
This thread is not dead.

[Csargo]

Can't wait for the next installment King Henry V

[Kraxis]

Great!

I knew it was just a matter of time before you would return.

[King Henry V]

Great!

I knew it was just a matter of time before you would return.
Then you had more faith in me than I did!:laugh4:

[King Henry V]

May 1138, 10 miles south of Worcester.

The sky glowed red like a ruby as the sun set, heralding the end of the days of rain and the distant start of summer. The King’s camp was alive with activity, as Robert Beaumont’s company of soldiers had encamped for the night. Tents were being pitched and great plumes of smoke rose from the cooking fires. King Stephen had retired to his pavilion before dinner, where he rested his weary limbs on his bed. Outside, the cook was busy preparing the food for the King’s table: roasted capons and stuffed quails, meat pies and beef broth, as well as furmenty for the common soldiers. Water was fetched from the nearby stream to mix with the wine and tables were set out for the dinner.

Half an hour later, the sky growing darker and the first stars beginning to appear in the east, the King sat himself down at the head of the table and the feast began. Beside the King sat Robert of Leicester, who was busy informing him of the present situation of the realm.
“Your brother is in Winchester, my liege. He retired there to his castle with his armed retinue when he first heard the rumours that you were captured, or dead.”
“Did he not know these rumours came from the foul mouth of Gloucester?” responded the King.
“My lord, the Bishop is a cautious man. I believe that when he received word of your misfortunes, he proceeded to Winchester to secure the treasury for you should the rumours have been baseless.”
The King seemed satisfied by this answer, though in truth he still had doubts.
And so the evening went on, Stephen asking Robert innumerable questions about who controlled which castles and towns and whether they were loyal to him or rebels. The Earl answered to the best of his ability, for his knowledge was sketchy at best and had to constantly refer to a swarthy, grim knight called Hugh, who would reluctantly stop jabbing at his food with his dagger and curtly reply to his liege’s questions with great reluctance. Stephen was surprised at how a vassal could treat his better with such apparent arrogance, yet Beaumont seemed unperturbed. However, it struck him at how Hugh bore a resemblance to Beaumont, and he wondered whether the young man was Robert’s bastard son. Stephen remembered his own illegitimate child, Gervase, a promising young man with great prospects in the Church.
Stephen began to feel increasingly tired and after another hour of talk with Robert and his chief tenants, he withdrew to his quarters and collapsed on his bed.
The next morning Robert of Leicester’s force separated, the infantry returning to Worcester whilst the knights rode south to London.

A soft and gentle breeze blew from the south as the horsemen cantered along a meadow, riding towards London. They were 150 warriors, mostly made up of Robert of Leicester’s personal retinue.
Stephen rode at the head of the column, next to Hugh who was carrying his master’s banner of the three silver moons.
“How did you come into the Earl’s service?” Stephen asked Hugh, wishingh to confirm his suspicions as tactfully as possible.
“I am one of his bastard whelps,” he replied matter-of-factly. “My mother was a servant girl in his castle at. My father offered me a chance either to become a priest or a soldier. Do you really see me mumbling a few words of Latin in a draughty church every Sunday for the rest of my days?”
“No, I guess not,” said the King. “Have you ever fought anywhere?”
“Yes, twice. Two summers ago I was in Normandy with my uncle the Count of Meulan. We were fighting the Angevins.”
“Did you kill any?”
Hugh cast him a sour look for having asked such an obvious question.
“This,” he thrust his fist towards the King, showing him a jagged scar across the back of his hand, “is where an Angevin struck me with his sword before I shoved my spear into his groin. And he was only one of many who I slew that summer.”
“And where was the other place you fought?”
“Scotland. I lead a raid there across the border. We attacked a castle, burned it and killed the garrison. I was the one who killed the lord. I felled him with one blow of my axe,” Hugh said proudly.
“You seem very sure of yourself,” commented Stephen.
“Why shouldn’t I be? I can fight better than any man, whether he be peasant, baron or even king.”
“That you may be. But I would watch your tongue, young man. Your impudence will do you no good.”
Hugh spat. “I do not play on being a servant for much longer. Whether it be my father or any man.”
“How old are you, Hugh?”
“Three and twenty.”
“And what do you plan to do to gain your ‘freedom’?”
“In a few years I shall form my own company of mercenaries. Then I shall go to the Holy Land to fight the Saracens. I hear that there are great riches to be had there.”
“Ah, the Holy Land. My father fought there. He was killed at Ramla.”
Hugh was silent. He gazed toward the horizon. Stephen gazed at it as well. A lone horseman was riding towards them.

The rider wheeled in his horse as Robert came to the front of the column.
“Your Highness, my Lord,” the rider bowed.
“Ah, Baldwin, what news do you bring from London?” Robert Beaumont asked the messenger.
“The Queen has secured London and the townspeople have flocked to her aid and she has an armed retinue of one hundred Flemish mercenaries and fifty knights of Kent. However, Robert of Gloucester marches on the city with two hundred and fifty horsemen and one one hundred foot, including many Bretons.”
“How so?” asked the King. “We last heard that he was with only two hundred knights.”
“Gloucester was reinforced by Brian Fitz Count in Wallingford. However, as he took some time to amass sufficient men and supplies, he was delayed considerably.”
“And where is he now?”
“At Windsor, my liege, five and twenty miles from here.”
“What does the Queen plan to do?”
“Her Highness intends to ride out to meet him,” answered Baldwin.
“What?” demanded the King. “But this is sheer foolishness!”
“My Lady the Queen does not trust certain members of the garrison of the Tower. She fears that if she is besieged in London, certain traitors will open the gates to Robert of Gloucester.”
“Then where does the Queen intend to meet him?”
“On the road to London, west of Windsor, there is a place where it cuts through a wood.”
“Aye, I know it well,” said the King. “I have hunted there oft times.”
“The Queen will array her soldiers across the road and hopefully Gloucester’s numbers will be impeded from manoeuvring by the trees.”
“Then we shall meet her there. My Lord Robert, how long do you think it will take us to reach Windsor?”
“I reckon we can reach it by night fall if we ride hard and leave th packs horses behind,” answered the Earl of Leicester.
“And how soon will Gloucester reach Windsor?” Stephen asked the messenger.
“In all likelihood sooner than you, my liege. However, the Queen intends to parlay with him as long as possible in order to delay him”.
“Then I pray that Christ and His Angels give the Queen strength this day.” He turned to the messenger. “Baldwin, how much sooner before us can you get to the Queen?”
Baldwin patted the side of his bay mare. “She be a sprite little horse, sire, but I know not whether she be quick enough to get to Her Highness in time.”
“Then ride now as fast as you can and go with God’s speed.”
“Baldwin nodded and galloped off.
“Well my Lord, I believe we have an appointment that we must keep.”

“The last rays of the sun peered the horizon, leaving the rest of the sky a star-strewn blue. A faint smell of flowers hung in the air and the first screeches of the owl could be heard as he swooped down to hunt his nocturnal prey.
The dime glow of campfires could be seen in the distance. Stephen noted with a sense of relief that two sets of fire burned faintly.
Stephen gave the order for Robert Beaumont’s knights to dismount. They did so gladly and rested their saddle weary limbs on the damp ground, though they were denied the comfort of a fire lest it give away their position.
Baldwin was waiting for them in the woods, sitting cross-legged on the ground, his dapple-grey horse tethered to a tree. He rose as the King walked his palfrey over to him.
“Sire,” Baldwin bowed.
“How is my wife the Queen?”
“Her Highness is well my liege. She has managed to delay Robert for the entire with parlays.”
“God be praised,” said the King and dismounted from his horse. “How many men does the Queen have with her?”
“Two hundred and fifty men, sire. The citizens of London aided her with a militia of one hundred men, though if truth be told, they be not of much use since they be poorly armed and trained, my Lord.”
“What has been the result of the parlays?”
“Robert of Caen did demand that the Queen order her supporters to lay down all arms and that she hand over the keys to London, in exchange for a safe passage to the continent and your Highness’ release in due time.”
“And what did Her Highness answer to that?”
“She said that she would consider it and give her answer on the morrow.”
Stephen felt a slight warmth creep through his body despite the coolness of the night air.
“Then it is on the morrow, Baldwin, that we shall fight.”

Thick drops of dew hung on the blades of grass and the spring flowers like tiny glass beads. A thin mist hovered amid the trees as the King stirred from his sleep. Though he longed to see his darling wife Maud, to have gone to his wife’s camp would have been too risky, lest he be seen by one of Gloucester’s men. So the King forsook the comfort of a warm and soft bed next to his wife in exchange for the cold, hard and damp ground on which his cloak was spread.
Stephen was brought a pail of frigid water from the river and he gazed for a few moments at his reflection. The wound he had received to the face at Dinas Bran was healing passably and was now a jagged red line beneath his eye. He felt his thick, fair bristles and noticed the creeping grey hairs. He needed to shave.
“I could lend you a blade if you wish,” said a voice.
Stephen turned. It was Hugh, sitting on a bundled up cloak under a tree as he ran his whetstone with a methodical stroke down the glinting blade of his sword.
“I thank you, but I think it can wait for another day,” replied Stephen. He splashed his face a few times with the icy water and dried himself with a rough piece of cloth which had been given to him and rose. He walked to the edge of the woods and crouched behind a tree. The hill sloped gently away to the edge of the London road fifty yards beyond. He could clearly see the Queen’s encampment a further two hundred years along the road. The Queen had prepared her camp well. Logs, overturned carts and anything which could be found were piled up across the road and the forty yards between the two woods. Armoured men were already standing behind the barrier, their spear points glinting. Robert of Gloucester’s fight was not going to be an easy one.
The rebels’ camp was two hundred yards east of where the King lay in the grass. There was much activity amid the tents. Soldiers were donning their mail coats, horses were trotting to and fro and a handful was still stirring.
The King had already established his plan of attack with Robert of Leicester.

As sentries had not reported any of Gloucester’s soldiers approaching the King’s camp, it was presumed that Robert did not know that the King was present, and that he would thus attack the Queen’s position with all his men. With all Robert’s men committed against the Queen, King Stephen will charge against the rebel’s rear before the latter’s numbers are able to overwhelm the Queen’s weaker soldiers.
With Robert surrounded, he should be easy enough to capture, with which this rebellion should come to a speedy end.

One of Robert Beaumont’s attendants was waiting for Stephen. He led one of the packhorses laden with armour and weapons.
“My Lord, you armour”, said the squire. Since Miles of Gloucester’s ambush four days before, Stephen had been, so he had to borrow all his weaponry from Robert. The King unfastened his cloak brooch and removed his boots before the squire helped him into the mail haubergeon. He fastened the leather cords on the haubergeon’s back and Stephen buckled his sword belt around his waist. He then stepped into the leather and mail leggings which the young squire then secured to the King’s legs with the leather cross gartering. Stephen firmly pulled the mail gloves onto his hands. Finally the King placed his iron conical helmet and tied the two leather thongs around his chin.
A groom brought over the King’s destrier, a black stallion from the marshy coasts of Frisia. Stephen flung himself onto the saddle and firmly gripped the reins.
The squire presented the King a plain blue shield through whose straps Stephen put his left arm whilst the groom handed him his lance which he gripped with his mail fist.
King Stephen was ready for battle.

Robert of Leicester’s knights advanced to the tree line. The King advanced a few paces further until he could see Gloucester’s men arrayed in three columns as they marched towards the Queen’s line.
Stephen watched, and waited.
A flight of half a dozen arrows was shot from the behind the log barrier as Gloucester’s soldiers advanced. They paused, fifty paces away from their opponent’s line.
Then they charged.

As the wave of soldiers swept onto the barrier, the King gave the signal as he returned to this place in the line. The horn sounded and Stephen touched his spurs to his horse’s flanks. The line advanced.
As the knights began the descent down the hill’s slope they gathered momentum, and the trot became a brisk canter across the thick green grass. Getting nearer and nearer to the enemy, Stephen dug his spurs in and his stallion started to gallop, his white mane fluttering in the air. Stephen lowered his lance tip, the enemy rear a mere sixty paces away. He could see Robert of Leicester’s banner flapping wildly in the wind as Stephen couched his land in his armpit. The soldiers at the rear ranks of the enemy turned to face the charge.
The knights crashed into Robert of Gloucester’s ranks with a furious noise as their momentum obliterated much of the resistance set against them. Spears were splintered, shields were shattered and the air was alive with sound of steel stricking steel
The King his lance into an enemy horseman’s back then drew his sword after discarding his broken spear.
He plunged his sword into a foot soldier then withdrew it to hack at another foe. Trapped between the Queen’s soldiers and the barricade on one side and the King and Robert of Leicester’s knights on the other, it seemed as though the Angevins would break at any moment.
Then another horn sounded.
A small column of knights, sixty men at the most, charged into the rear of the Queen’s ranks, where the London militia were holding back Gloucester’s men.
They quailed beneath the shock as the armoured horsemen crashed into their undefended rear.
Stephen reacted immediately. If the Londoners were routed, the rest of the Queen’s soldiers may be panicked enough for the Angevins to overwhelm them still, leaving Robert of Gloucester a chance to escape or even to destroy the King’s knights as well. Fortunately Stephen had been able to persuade his wife to take safety in Windsor, leaving her men under the command of Henry, castellan of Canterbury.
He wheeled his horse around and began to give orders.
“You, you and you, gather forty this instant from the rear ranks. Hurry!” shouted the King. Why had he not thought to keep a reserve?
“Yes, my lord,” said one of the soldiers. It was Hugh again. It was the first time he had ever qualified any of his speech to the King with the recognition that he was his better, and it was not flavoured without a touch of irony.
Still, this was neither the time nor the place to be giving a lesson in manners and Stephen ignored it.
A few moments later a small body of knights had been gathered from the rear, though it left their ranks perilously thin. But it would have to do for now.
The King led the knights around the mass of men and into the thick woods between the river and the road. He deployed the horsemen into a column four ranks deep, with those who still had intact lances at the front.
“Charge!” cried the King and spurred on his horse. The knights charged.
The King’s knights galloped passed the trees and burst out of the woods onto the road. Some of the London milita were running away, down the road toward a hopeful safety. However Stephen took no notice of them as his knights collided with the enemy horsemen at full gallop.
Lacking a lance, the King swung his sword at a foe’s neck, the blade cutting through to the bone, leaving the man’s head hanging on to the rest of his body by his tendons. However, as his attention slipped for a brief moment after his third kill, one of Gloucester’s knights brought his mace down on Stephen’s helmet, dazing him. His vision blurred and another enemy knight approached, axe in hand and ready to strike the killing blow. Stephen slashed his sword out wildly, harmlessly slicing through the air. As he faintly saw a third horseman approach, he knew he was as good as dead.
The he saw the flash of steel and the spray of blood as the third knight sliced the axe-wielding Angevin’s head clean off his body
The latter’s attempts to block his opponent’s sword thrusts with his steel club proved to be in vain and he was left slumped in his saddle, blood trickling from his breast.
Stephen’s vision improved and he turned to see who was the third knight. It was Hugh Fitz Beaumont, his face wearing his ever-present sardonic and arrogant smile.
“My liege,” he bowed with even more sarcasm than before. Then he redressed himself and charged into the fray, where there was fierce lighting around Robert of Gloucester’s banner.
Stephen’s knights were clearly winning. The militia had rallied and the enemy horsemen were surrounded and fighting savagely. The King heard shouts and the thump of hooves on the ground. He turned. Some of the Angevin horsemen had broken through Robert of Leicester’s men on the other side of the banner and were making their escape. A handful of knights pursued them, but they were too few and their hard riding the previous day soon began to tell and the dozen Angevin knights were soon safely away.
King Stephen cursed.
For the rest of Gloucester’s men there was no hope. The ring of Stephen’s supporters around them became tighter and tighter, like a noose around an outlaw’s neck. They were beaten.
Stephen charged towards the last Angevin knights still fiercely defending their banner and he slid his sword deep into a man’s bowels.
He pushed his horse further into the fight, felling another knight until there was only one Angevin left. He was fighting desperately with his sword, a deep gash in his left arm. He killed one of his opponents with a thrust to his heart. However, Hugh then appeared to the left of the knight, brandishing a bloody blade.
The knight blocked Hugh’s sword strike and the two blades scraped off each other with a clang.
The knight tried to go on the offensive, but he was clearly weakened and the Earl of Leicester’s bastard easily knocked aside his feeble blow, leaving the beleaguered Angevin off balance and open to attack.
Hugh swung his blade round and the flat of the sword struck the knight in the face with a thud. The Angevin dropped his weapon. Hugh drew back his swrod, ready to make the killing blow.
“Stop!” the King cried.
Hugh let his blade drop and starred at the King.
“You will not kill a defenceless man,” ordered the King.
“He is mine! I may do what I wish with him!” retorted Hugh.
The King turned to the knight. He recognized him. It was Brian Fitz Count, Lord of Wallingford and of Abergaveny.
“Do you yield?” the King asked Brian of Wallingford.
Brian slowly nodded his head. “Yes, I yield.”
The King turned back to Hugh. “He is your prisoner. Guard him.”
The rest of the enemy soon yielded as well after that, laying down their weapons.
A knight rode up to the King. “My Liege, the day is yours. We have won a great victory.”
“Aye, so we have,” said Stephen. “Who, pray, are you?”
“I am Henry, castellan of Canterbury. I am the commander of the Queen’s forces.”
“Of course. I thank for your help and advice for the Queen,” Stephen said and dismounted from his stallion. He clambered over the corpse-strewn barrier before he found Robert of Leicester.
“Where is Robert Fitz Roy?” asked the King.
Beaumont turned, his face blank.
“Gloucester escaped, sire.”
Stephen cursed profusely. Yet again Gloucester had evaded him as Stephen was on the threshold of victory!
“Well, at least we have captured Brian of Wallingford.”
“He is a prisoner?” asked Robert.
“Aye, he is.”
“Then for that at least we must be thankful.”
“Indeed. My Lord of Leicester, would you organise the prisoners? We march on London as soon as we may.”
“Naturally, your Highness.”
“I must go to Windsor forthwith.”

The hooves clattered on the cobble stones of the bailey of the castle at Windosr as the King rode in, where he was greeted by Humphrey of Evreux, the castlellan.
“The Queen is in the solar, my liege,” he said after the due greetings had been made.
The King immediately strode down the corridors strewn with fresh rushes until he reached the solar, where a woman sat in a chair by the window, embroidering. Her soft brown hair fell on the green velvet gown, catching the golden sunlight coming through the window.
“Maud!” cried Stephen and rushed over to the chair as the Queen stood.
“Stephen,” she said, dropping the embroidery.
“My darling Maud,” the King said again and kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “Are you hurt? How are the children? Where are the children?”
“I am perfectly well. I obeyed your orders, husband, like a good and gently wife,” Maud said with a wry smile. “The children are well too. They are safely in the Tower and you need not be concerned for their safety. Eustace assured his mother he would defend his siblings to the death as he held his wooden sword.” She laughed. “You need not worry yourself, Stephen.”
He kissed her again. “Come, we must go to London.”

King Stephen rode through the Lud Gate into London at the head of his knights. By his side was his wife Queen Maud and Robert Beaumont, Earl of Leicester. Behind them followed 225 knights and militia and 50 prisoners, including the wounded and closely guarded Brian of Wallingford. The rest of the 750 men who had fought each other that day at Windsor were either the other one hundred prisoners held captive at the castle, the wounded who had been left in the care of a nearby Cluniac monastery and the 200 dead who littered the field.
The people had come out to hail their King, and were cheering at playing joyous music. Stephen had always been popular with the Londoners and they were happy to see their sovereign again.
The party rode into the Tower of London, where the aldermen of the city were waiting in the great hall, wishing to present their congratulations on Stephen’s victory. Also present was Geoffrey de Mandeville, Constable of the Tower who Stephen had favoured after his fall from grace under the reign of Henry I.
For the first time in several weeks, King Stephen was once again at the seat of power. And he felt ready to strike back.

Stephen lay in bed under the warm blankets, feeling fro the first time in a long time a profound sense of comfort. His wife lay with her head on her husband’s bare chest as he ran his hand up and down her soft naked back.
“You should not have done what you did,” said Stephen.
“What?”
“You should not have risked your and the children’s lives, Maud. It would have been safer for you if you had gone to Boulogne and waited for me there.”
“And then what would have done, Stephen? Robert of Gloucester would have captured London and you would have been without support. Do not think your supporters would have supported for much longer a King without a kingdom!” she remarked angrily and turned her back on him.
“Then I would have forsaken the crown and returned to Boulogne.”
“So all that you have done these past two years will have been for naught. Well I could not simply let that happen. Do not forget, husband, that whatever you have will one day pass to our son.”
Before Stephen could say anything in reply, there was a knock on the door. Stephen climbed out of the bed and put on a robe before opening the door.
“Your Highness, the Bishop of Winchester has just arrived. He awaits you in the antechamber,” the maid said as she curtseyed.
“Thank you, and tell my brother I shall join him as soon as I may.”

Dressed and shaved, the King entered the antechamber to the throne room. Henry of Blois kneeled before him and expressed his greetings.
“May God be praised, brother, for you safe deliverance from the hands of traitors and savages.”
“Indeed.”
“I feared for you, Stephen, when I heard rumours that of your death. Thankfully they were not true, but nonetheless I had to ride for Winchester forthwith so that I could prevent the treasury from falling into the hands of rebels and traitors. When I heard that the Queen had taken London, I naturally came as I soon as possible to offer her my succour.”
“And for that I thank you, brother,” said Stephen. “Do you bring any news from Normandy?”
“Aye. Shortly before I left a messenger arrived with a letter from William of Ypres. He said that he and the Count of Meulan had ambushed Geoffrey of Anjou and had wreaked heavy losses on him. He has retreated to Anjou, though he still holds the castles that he captured at the beginning of his campaign.”
“Then I shall wage my own campaign against my enemies forthwith.”

You have a strong power base in the south east of England, including the counties of Kent, Hampshire, Sussex, East Anglia, Hertfordshire and Berkshire as far as Reading. Robert of Leicester also has extensive lands throughout the Midlands, and you also have large fiefdoms in Lancaster and Cornwall. There are also the Welsh Marches, distant and cut off, to be considered, as well as Exeter, which is likely to offer you support. Messengers have been despatched to all the barons and clergymen the length and breadth of the realm to ascertain their loyalty. There also reports of raids trickling from the North, as well as rumours of a planned Scottish invasion.
You must now decide where you must campaign.

1. Make a drive through the West Country. This is one of your enemy’s potential power bases, and you have land and supporters there.
2. Secure the Welsh Marches. You need to consolidate your position in this key area, and you must establish a link between the Marches and the rest of your lands.
3. Wage war in the Midlands. You are unsure of the barons’ loyalty to you in this region, so a decisive campaign there would certainly show them where their loyalties lie.

Phew!:sweatdrop:

P.S Ludens, you can take that abandoned sign next to this thread in the Library, thank you!:2thumbsup:

[AntiochusIII]

Victory! Now that's what I'm (hoping that I was) talking about.

And that arrogant Hugh...Stephen would do well to sponsor a force to the Holy Land right after we have Gloucester's head on a spike. A "reward" and to send away such a potential troublemaker. An arrogant, bloodthirsty man who finds it amusing to sarcastically address the King in the midst of battle should not be allowed to move around in England. There might be a romantic (as in, warrior-knight thing, not "love") slant to his character, but that's neither here nor there. Let the Saracens have his head, or he theirs.

Now, the choices are terribly hard, since I have no clue where is where in ye olde England. However...

Number 2 is not our optimal choice. We escaped from the area in a risky trek for precisely the same reason we should not go back in now: it's isolated, far away, cut-off, and is out of the potential areas of heavy struggle. With Gloucester about, a second cut-off would be disastrous.

So it comes down to 1 or 3...

It really depends on how many troops we have. King Henry V, if it isn't too much trouble, would you elaborate on our current resources? And which area of England would most likely support Gloucester now--like, what is his current power base?

[King Henry V]

http://xs207.xs.to/xs207/06390/england-regions2.gif
A very rough representation of the areas of which you know their loyalty. Red is the King's lands, blue Robert of Gloucester and green the Weslh Marches.
You are very well off in terms of money, as Henry I left a rich treasury when he died. Purely guestimating figures here, I'd say you have a treasury of 45,000 marks which equals about 30,000 pounds in sterling silver.
As in terms of numerical strenght, you have two options:
Either summon your barons to perform their feudal obligations, which they will do free of charge for forty days a year. However, you do not know the quality of the soldiers that you will get, and after those 40 days they have the right to bugger off home.
Or, you forget about the feudal levy completely, and instead collect the scutage tax, which all able bodied men have to pay for not doing their military service that year. The money you collect will go towards hiring mercenaries, but you do have to pay them and some do flee at the crucial moments (no matter how much you pay someone, it's not enough for them to die.) However, they can serve much longer in the field.
Or, you do a mixture of the above.

Invented numbers if you raise the feudal levy:
Kent: 150 knights, 50 bowmen
Sussex: 200 knights, 75 bowmen and 100 spearmen
London: 150 bowmen, 150 spearmen
Essex: 100 knights
Suffolk: 125 knights, 30 spearmen
Norfolk: 50 knights (could be more as you do not know yet the loyalty of the Earl of Norfolk, Hugh Bigod)
Surrey: 175 knights, 50 spearmen
Bedford: 120 knights
Hampshire: 200 knights, 150 bowmen and 50 spearmen.

All told: 1120 knights, 425 bowmen and 380 spearmen, or 1925 men in total.

[Kraxis]

Agreed that the Welsh Marches are not a good choice right now.

We have given the Welsh a bloody nose, and supported a prince that is somewhat favourable to us. The region should be too busy with infighting and consolidation to pose a problem in the short term. Besides it is a region that is hard to get at and we would be cut off from the heart of the land.

We shouldn't campaign against people we are unsure of, when we have a region we are almost certain to have rebel strongholds. Maybe if the rebels weren't a force to consider right now, then going through the Midlands might be a good choice as it would whip the uncertain groupings back to the fold.
But reducing rebel areas would go a long towards getting the same uncertainty fixed. Those who are not impressed would likely rebel anyway.

So I say 1!

[King Henry V]

Remember you have to choose which way to raise the army for your next campaign.

[Conqueror]

1. Make a drive through the West Country. This is one of your enemy’s potential power bases, and you have land and supporters there.
Let's not give that snake Robert time to recover from his recent loss, let's strike at his power base and finish him off. I'd go for the feudal troops. We should avoid a prolonged campaign anyway, and even if we fail to get the job done fast enough we can return to fight another day. Hiring mercenaries could deplete our treasury, which should be avoided since we might need the money later.

[Kraxis]

Well, we need to finish of the rebellion, then we need to take care of Scortland and Normandy. So we need troops for a good long while.
That speaks for mercs.

However, since we have a rebellion at hand we need to know the loyalty among the lords that has pleaded fealty to us. Also it isn't all the unlikely that the feudal troops would love to be able to crush the rebels (the lords can see a certain advantage in getting the lands and castles). So we need the feudal troops.

My plan would be to call up the feudal troops in the south, east and southwest. Generally the land around Robert. That should be enough. If we are lucky we will be able to get some of the ties with the lords closer, getting them to support our other operations.

If not, then we still have the northern lands to draw from when we deal with Scotland (and there they would have a vested interest in fighting hard as they would be the ones to suffer otherwise). That would also be the time for mercenaries as we would fight in another country, so some of their pay could come from loot. That might buy some loyalty.

Finally we can use whatever feudal troops we have in Normandy to augment our mercenaries to finally settle that matter. But in any case we should only consider mercenaries a certain down there. Besides there will likely be a lot of sieges and feudal troops aren't too great at that (40 days? Not much for a siege).

[King Henry V]

German siege engineers are also available to hire (prices includes siege engines!).

[King Henry V]

June 1138, The Tower of London

Stephen was playing with his son Eustace in the garden in front of the White Tower when one of his squires appeared.
“Your Highness, there is an ambassador from Robert of Gloucester who has arrived and is waiting in the antechamber to the throne room.”
“What is it that he wants?” demanded the King.
“It seems as though he wishes to discuss the exchange of prisoners, sire.”
Stephen ruffled his son’s hair and handed him his toy sword. “I’m afraid you will have to play with your nurse for now, Eustace.”

The doors to the throne room were flung open and the three men strode across the flagstone of the chamber. King Stephen sat in his golden throne, crowned and resplendent. Henry of Blois stood at the right of the throne dais.
“My Lord of Blois, my Lord Bishop,” bowed the envoy.
“His Highness is your anointed sovereign, and you will address him as such,” remarked the King’s brother dryly.
The envoy ignored the Bishop. “My Lord, I am Gilbert of Fécamp and I have been dispatched by the Earl of Gloucester,” he said.
“What is it that you wish to discuss?”
“The ransom and exchange of prisoners, my Lord.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, we wish to obtain the release of Brian Fitz Count.”
“In exchange for the sum of 800 marks. We also ask for the release of the other soldiers you captured at Windsor, and in return the Earl is ready to free your soldiers that his vassals have captured as well as a further 300 marks.”

You must now decide what to offer in response.
1. Accept the offer. It seems fair enough and it is a sizeable sum.
2. Dismiss the envoy immediately. This petty banter and meagre offerings are worthless.
3. Brian is Lord of Wallingford and Abergavenny. It seems only natural that these castles should be handed over to you.
4. Anything else you may think of.

[Flavius Clemens]

If there's still time to reply on the previous question, I opt for 1 - we should finish off one problem at a time, and gaining a secure hold of all of southern England across to the Marches is safer than being spread out. Use a mix of the Hampshire levy and mercenaries.

On the latest offer, on past form we have no reason to trust Robert to deliver on any deals, trickery is more likely. So although 3 is a tempting start to the West Country campaign, I go for 2 as the realistic option.

[Kraxis]

How many troops does he hold? And what is their quality?

In case they are good and fairly numerous, I would say we could bargain for them.
For instance we could demand the troops to be release as a sign of good faith, and then the exchange of money and the Count. That should leave Robert to have no real option for deception. We get the troop ahead of the exchange and get the money as we hand over the Count.

If the envoy refuses, so what. It isn't as if we need the money that much, nor the troops. However I find it important that we are perceived to be a good lord who will help his lessers in cases such as this.
But I won't trade back for rabble. So my proposal only stands if the troops are good and somewhat numerous.

Did we lay the proposal on the table?

[Marshal Murat]

I'd say go to Wessex and that general area. If Glouschester grabs the baron's loyalty, then he can fortifiy the area, and fight from town to town back to Cornwall. Hedge him in.

[Csargo]

I'm with Kraxis

[Ludens]

Option 1 for the campaign and Kraxis' proposals for both the recruitment and the negotiation questions.

[King Henry V]

OK, so to tally up the votes so far:
A. Which region to campaign against:
Wessex: 6 votes.

B. What soldiers to recruit:
1.Feudal levy for the southern, eastern and southeastern counties: 4 votes.
2. Mix of Hampshire levy and mercs: 1 vote

For the negotiation:
Miles of Gloucester captured sixty soldiers, mostly knights and men-at-arms, half of which defended Stephen and permitted him to escape. You should note that without the soldiers who defended him, Stephen would be in one of Robert's prisons.

Also note: Wallingford is one of the strongest castles in England, commands a strategic crossing point on the Thames and is Gloucester's most easterly stronghold; his salient. Abergavenny is likewise an important castle on the Usk river, in the heart of the Welsh Marches.

[Flavius Clemens]

For the negotiation:
Miles of Gloucester captured sixty soldiers, mostly knights and men-at-arms, half of which defended Stephen and permitted him to escape. You should note that without the soldiers who defended him, Stephen would be in one of Robert's prisons.
This is enough to swing me on to Kraxis's idea rather than my original vote for option 2.

[AntiochusIII]

Seeing the map, I conclude: 1, Push to the West. The Midlands can wait. Gloucester is on the run and letting him stop and recuperate would only further deepens the wounds of war. We might even ensure the safety of the West Marches by opening the area to the rest of your power base.

As for the prisoner exchange, I suggest 3, Demanding the Castles. However, it is very unlikely that he'll accept, so this choice is made with the intention of reducing the bargain as necessary. Wallingford takes priority over Abergavenny; and if refused both, then go for option 1. Of course, I support Kraxis' way of dealing with the exchange.

If he refuses still, or try to bargain for more, throw him out. Stephen would've shown himself to be both caring enough to negotiate and "concede" for the sake of those in his service, and yet strong enough to refuse a bad bargain.

Of the troops, I support Kraxis' proposal. It's the most effective way to take full advantage of local forces at key theatres.

[Kraxis]

Ok, it isn't exactly a lot of troops, but they are loyal and they are of good quality. Lets get them back.

[King Henry V]

OK, a more "accurate map"
Red is royal land, blue Angevin and green that of Ranulf of Chester.
http://xs107.xs.to/xs107/06402/england-regions22.gif

[King Henry V]

In view of the map, you have two options for invading the West Country:
1. March straight for Robert' heartlands in Somerset and Gloucestershire.
2. Push through the peninsula into Devon and Cornwall, strengthening your position in those counties.

[Kraxis]

As much as I would love to strengthen our position I believe we are the stronger faction here. So if Robert wishes to divide his limited resoruces to deal with our isolated dominions, then we should let him. It will hurt him more than us.

We should go for the jugular and end this now. 2!

I can't seem to remember Ranulf...

[King Henry V]

OK, so you mean 1. :juggle2:
Ranulf of Chester is one of the wealthiest magnates of England, the big cheese of the north.

[Flavius Clemens]

Option 1 - deal with the centre and the rest falls.

[Kraxis]

Yes... 2 the other 1, not 2.:dizzy2: :2thumbsup:

Ah... And what is our relation to him? I simply can't remember him. Is he a lukewarm supporter or something?

[King Henry V]

He is a lukewarm supporter, yes.

[Kraxis]

Ahhhh... Then I can see a vested interest in letting the Scots invade, thus forcing him to support us in fear that he might lose his power.

[King Henry V]

Historically speaking, Ranulf was not at all friendly with the Scots (one of the points of antagonism between him and Stephen was that Stephen was too friendly with the Scots).

[Csargo]

Option 1

[AntiochusIII]

Take down the contender: Option 1. Two, while allow us to get stronger, will also allow Gloucester a breathing space he should not has.

The Scots show sign of intervening, and the war in Normandy continues. We can't linger and consolidate.

The "Green" party is a lukewarm supporter, eh? Save him for a showdown with Scotland, then, since he has a hatred for them. He'll be a very useful ally, unlikely to stab Stephen in the back while both are sacking Scot lands, or fighting saving English lands from them.

[King Henry V]

So you have decided. Excellent.:book:

[Kraxis]

We have... Now we wait.

[King Henry V]

OK, sorry for the delay chaps, but I was quite busy before and now I'm on holiday. I should post the next bit when I get back, i.e around the 3rd of November.

[King Henry V]

Huzzah! One year old today! And to celebrate this particular birthday, here is the next chapter:

The King scratched his beard and spoke slowly. “Brian Fitz Count is Master of Wallingford. In return for his release I demand that the castle be handed over to me. As for the ransom of soldiers, you may tell your master that I accept his offer.”
Gilbert looked uneasy and remained silent for a while. “I am afraid that I do not have the authority to hand over any of the possessions of my Lord of Gloucester nor of that of any of his vassals.”
“Then you may return when you have your master’s answer. Only then will I release any of the prisoners as agreed.”
The envoy bowed and he and his two companions exited the throne room.


The King stood on the battlements of the White Tower, gazing at the roofs and the streets of London. The city was a hive of activity: peddlers were selling their wares, ships were unloading their cargo from the Continent and across the river, smoke rose from the stews Southwark, a warren of narrow alleyway, baths and taverns frequented by thieves and whores, all the property of the Bishop of Winchester.
Stephen slammed his fist down on a merlon. He had decided. He would strike at the heart of Robert Fitz Roy’s lands; he would strike at Gloucester.
He announced his plan to his wife, his brother and Robert of Leicester, who was still in London.
“Do you wish me to raise more men, sire?” the Earl asked.
“I think you would be of great service to me, my Lord, if you returned to your fiefdoms and prepared for war.”
Messengers were arriving every day from castellans, lords and earls the length and breadth of the realm. The King now knew he could count of the support of some of the great magnates of the land: William de Warenne, Earl of Surrey; William d’Aubigny, Lord of Arundel; Alan, Count of Penthièvre; William le Gros, Lord of Holderness and Count of Aumale and Robert, Bishop of Bath.
However, there were some who were conspicuous by their absence. Foremost of these was Roger, Bishop of Salisbury whose treachery the King suspected when he captured that chest of letters from Robert of Gloucester’s encampment at Dinas Bran. His nephew, Bishop Nigel of Ely had joined the Angevins for certes. Also notably absent were Hugh Bigod, Lord of Norwich, and Earl Ranulf of Chester.
Stephen gave orders for the feudal army to be summoned and that it should be ready for the summer campaign two weeks hence, by the Feast of St Vitus.
Twelve days before the Feast of St Vitus, Robert of Gloucester’s envoy had returned. They came unannounced, in the late afternoon when the sunlight turned a tawny gold, and when a light breeze rustled the young green leaves in the oak trees in the yard of the Tower. It was as fine a weather as many had seen in early June, however those whose old wounds still throbbed, could feel that worse times were to come.
King Stephen was in the great hall this time, where he was studying the parchments concerning the supply of food for the campaign.
“My lord Gilbert of Fécamp,” announced the chamberlain as Robert’ messenger entered the hall.
“My lord Gilbert, I see that your master has made haste in his decision. I trust that it is an agreeable one,” said Stephen with a wry smile.
“My Lord of Blois,” bowed Gilbert, a few paces from the King. “I have come here to say to you that my master agrees with the terms set forward by your lordship concerning the possession of the castles of Wallingford and Abergavenny and the fate of the prisoners and my Lord Brian fitz Count. However, my lord Robert fitz Roy has his own conditions: firstly, since he well recognises the value of such a stronghold as Wallingford, the sum of 600 pounds in silver [Readers note: a mark was worth two thirds of a silver pound, thus 900 marks equalled 600 pounds. A mark was never an actual coin, merely a currency used in accounting] be paid by your lordship with half forthwith and half when the exchange is completed. Secondly, the castle of Abergavenny will be razed to the ground. Thirdly, the prisoners will be exchanged and the balance of the money paid on the feast of Saint Leo II, when Wallingford shall be handed over to your lordship. These are my lord’s terms.”
The King tried to hide his sense of elation. Wallingford! One of the strongest castles in the land would be gained for but a trifling amount of money.
“You may tell your master that I fully agree to his terms.”

Over the next two weeks, the soldiers from Sussex, Surrey, Essex, Suffolk, Hampshire and Bedford arrived knight by knight, lord by lord. In order to prevent an outbreak of the ague that plagued the inhabitants to the marshy east of the city, the soldiers were encamped west of London, around the Abbey of Westminster. As the days went past, the camp grew and grew until it was a sprawl of tents, the grey smoke rising from the campfires and the bread ovens mingling with the thick black coal smoke burned in the poorer dwellings of the city.
Some of the most important barons had already arrived, and were lodged in the Tower with their retinues.
The chief of these, Henry de Tracy, William de Warenne and William d’Aubigny were in council with the King. William de Warenne was a young and lively man, but twenty years old, now one of the richest lords of the south after the death of his father that year. The King had asked for their presence to give him counsel on the conduct of the war.
There were two questions at hand. The first was the route of march for the campaign.
D’Aubigny favoured a strike straight at the main strongholds of Robert of Gloucester. “Sire, I say that we attack through the valley of the Thames, striking at the strongholds of Oxford and Gloucester before turning west and turning on Bristol. With the caputs of his fiefdoms taken, Gloucester’s power will be broken and the rest of his castles will fall like ripe fruit.”
Henry de Tracy shook his head. “My liege, such an attack would allow Robert of Caen to concentrate all his forces against us. I suggest that we attack in two prongs, with you my lord commanding the main force marching down from the north and taking Gloucester, and I leading the smaller column against Bristol.”
Stephen turned to William de Warenne. “What think you, my lord?”
“I have no opinion on such a matter,” he replied. “However, I do believe that any attack which is to be made should be done decisively and rapidly, send a lightning force of cavalry through Gloucester’s lands, taking what we can before we move on to the next castle, burning the land as we advance. Such an attack would mortally wound Robert Fitz Roy, and he would be heavily weakened for further attacks.”
William d’Aubigny shook his head. “Your Highness, I fear that these proposals are too rash. In order to vanquish Gloucester we must advance methodically, taking castle by castle, so that we may establish a firm hold.”
“Nay, sir, you are wrong,” protested Henry de Tracy. “My lord, it is fruitless to make such a slow advance against the enemy. We must attack quickly, relying mainly on our cavalry to mount surprise attacks on castles, before garrisoning them with our infantry and moving on. We may thus dismiss the bulk of our foot soldiers from whom we can collect the scutage.”

You must now decide your plan of action.

A. The route of march:
1.Attack through the Thames valley to Gloucester before proceeding on Bristol.
2. Heed Henry de Tracy’s advice and launch a double assault on Robert of Gloucester, the main one from the north commanded by you and the lesser one from the south led by de Tracy.

B. The means of attack:
1. Attack with only your cavalry to “blitz” your opponents and gain the advantage of surprise. However due to considerations such as the mobility of your force, you will not be able to conserve all your gains.
2. Do as above, however in a more conservative style, by consolidating your gains with infantry. However, you will not be able to capture as much land as above.
3. Advance slowly and surely, taking Robert’s lands castle by castle.




However, as you can see, this alternate history is now a year old, and chronologically speaking, we have advanced by about two months. Not very impressive, I know. Therefore, I am sorry to say that you will have to expect this story to go about as quickly as an asthmatic ant with heavy shopping, however, I shall do my best to continue this for as long as the .org remains.

[AntiochusIII]

It's baaaack! *do a tap-dance*

King Henry V: Do we have any intelligence on the strength of the garrisons in Oxford and Gloucester? That could factor in greatly on both choices.

Thus, my current decision is preliminary, and would likely change depending upon discussion:

A: I don't know what the two-pronged attacks would do if de Caen simply chooses to ignore one and throw all his forces at another, potentially annihilating it. I think I'd keep them in one force, led by the King himself. Striking through the Thames Valley could, if we're lucky, finish the war right then and there. Moreover, I think Medieval Lords simply don't like the idea of a protracted, lengthy, expensive, methodically destructive civil war right in the middle of their estates too much; the longer it goes, the less support we have. Choice 1. This also depends on by choice at B...

B: 2nd. Try the blitzkrieg elements as far as it is safe, but make sure to actually keep the lands (and don't try to burn too much! After all, we intend to keep them). Since my first choice implies not splitting the forces the cavalry elements would be relatively strong. However, stop the blitz if Gloucester's main forces are near, and reunite with the infantry elements for the Big Battle (tm) ahead. Hopefully we'll be able to take Oxford this way; and if we're truly lucky, Gloucester also. Taking down the Earl's theoretical "home castle" would be a symbolic victory.

[King Henry V]

Gloucester, as the caput of Robert of Caen, will no doubt be heavily garrisoned and well supplied. Oxford is a lesser castle, held by Henry D'Oyly, but it commands one of the vital crossing points of the Thames and it is thus a strong structure made of stone. Robert of Caen would be foolish not keep a strong body of men there.

[Prince Cobra]

Yes, I am also for the safe 1.1 and 2.2. In the first option it is too risky to split your forces. That's why I choose the safer one. And somehow splitting one's forces in a political unrest makes the desertion easier. Somehow I can not trust to de Tracy so much to give him the command of an essential group of the army.

The first of the second option is also a risky one. The third one is too expensive since we have a certain time for achieving our goal. The second is the best for what we have.

[King Kurt]

I to would go for A1 and B2 - we have got through the tricky times, let us not take any chances now - keep it safe.

Can I also welcome the return of this interactive - the pace does not really worry me, I do like the quality of what comes out and how well it is written - so it is worth the wait.:2thumbsup:

[King Henry V]

I have to point out that as the King accepted Robert's offer, no military action can be taken before the Feast of Saint Irenaeus (changed from the Feast of Saint Leo), thirteen days after the planned beginning of the campaign.

[Kommodus]

I'm back!

*catches up on current situation*

Hm... I'm not going to have much to add here to what others have said. I think fast and powerful is the word of the day. Thus I'm also going with A1 and B2.

We seem to have a powerful army gathering, and I'd rather not divide it. One good decisive battle could bring the campaign against Gloucester to a rapid conclusion.

Furthermore, I don't like the idea of a slow and methodical advance, especially when we have so many other threats to deal with. In addition, laying waste to the lands as we go is a bad idea. It's not as though we're invading a foreign land - it's our own land, and we want it to be useful to us once we're done.

[Ignoramus]

I agree with the above. It is too risky splitting our forces.

A1 and B2.

[Csargo]

I agree.

A1 B2

[Kraxis]

How can I disagree with you guys...

I used the TW games as my template. What would I do if it was in one of teh TW games? I would make a single hard strike at the heart, a fast but not overly such, advance. So I agree with the current wave of choices.

Btw, how goes things near Wales? Have we heard anything about the young prince and our aid to him? Has he abandoned us or is he still our fairly loyal servant?