*this is a description of an immense battle i fought as romani against the arverni. unfortuanetly i didnt take any pics, so ill hope to recreate the scene and the events leading up to it with pure literacy genius. fingers crossed eh? and please, dont bother lecturing me on pics, i just felt the instant urge to write something, and this fight was pretty memorable.*
The Respublica of Roma expands across the deserts Carthage, up the Italian peninsula, and the Illyrian Coast. But a new threat has appeared, the Arverni. Years ago a Consular army conquered the large town of Massalia, but it was quickly crushed by a brutal onslaught of Gallic barbarians, bearing the standard of the Arverni tribe. Afterwards, though, there was no movement in the Alps for some time, and the attention of our generals was turned to the enroaching Seleukid Empire, and the Epirotes to the East. How foolish we were...
Hordes of Arverni swarmed over the Alps, ready to swallow up tiny Italia. First to fall was Segesta, and with the port city over taken, the Gauls had a causeway into the soft centre of Italy. But our Generals rallied an army of almost two thousand veterans of campaigns in North Africa and Greece, and sent them to challenge the barbarian horde. Several battles were fought around Segesta, as the Arverni assaulted our invading army with constant waves of ill-discplined peasants. We slaughtered them.
But then, one summer when it seemed we might assault and finally recapture Segesta, the Gods struck us a cruel blow: over the Alps, in from the Gallic mainland, more than three full armies had attacked. We retreated, into a cleft in the mountains next to Segesta, and prepared to stand our ground.
The Crooked Peak
"Look lively boys." Centurion Priscus growled. Deep below the Romans the huge Arverni army was marshalling, ready to march up the steep mountain and battle them. Young Cotta, the son of great Generals of the Romani, was the experienced general leading this army, and he had great knowledge of battling the barbarians. He had skirmishers, spearmen and many swordsmen, with cavalry wedged on each flank. But compared to the army approaching, his forces were puny.
"Velites! Take that high ground and slaughter the Gauls! The rest of you, to the Crooked Peak!" Cotta roared, swirling his horse around and dramatically pointing at the Crooked Peak, a cleft raising out of the mountain behind them. As the young skirmishers moved down the mountain to take aim, the rest of the Consular army turned around and walked in an orderly fashion to form a double line. Once they had taken their positions, it was clear that the Arverni would be breathless by the time they reached them.
"Now, time for a bit of fun!" Cotta smirked.
Even from the outlet they were standing on, all the beneath the main army, the Velites heard Cotta's commanding voice.
"UNLEASH HELL!"
The Arverni had many Gaestatae, naked warriors who were renowned for inflicting heavy casualties on the Romani. As the skirmishers peppered the naked fools with javelins, the barbarians quickened their pace in an attempt to route the skirmishers. They were close enough to attack when the Romani officers decided to pull the skirmishers back up the hill, knowing they would still have a firing opportunity: the Velites were hardly out of breath, whereas the Gauls were struggling to hurl their rabble up the mountain.
Retreat, throw javelins, retreat, throw javelins. To the demoralised Gauls the rain of spears never ended, but before long the Velites were out of javelins, and they ran the length up the mountain and hid behind the two infantry lines. As the Principes took aim and rained even more death upon the Gauls, it was obvious the battle was about to begin.
The Battle
The Romani army had just under 2,000 men, whereas the Gallic horde numbered just over 3,000. Experienced, trained and well equipped men were on both sides, and if not for the high ground, the Romans would have been overwhelmed in an instant.
But as it was they were holding out well, routing the ocassional fresh unit of Gallic recruits. But the more experienced and battle-hardened Arverni were braver, and although they didn't put up a devastating fight, they were a thorn in the side of the Romani, who were ready to send in the second line of reserve troops to discourage the barbarians.
It was Cotta himself who led the charge, rallying his troops before catapulting himself into the host of madmen who were hell bent on his death. Amongst the infantry the Arverni general was battling, and it was to him Cotta charged, in an attempt to break the morale of his army. The plan worked: a triarii spearman impaled the filthy Gaul once the cavalry had torn his bodyguard to pieces.
Exhausted, flanked, wounded and leaderless, the Gauls began to retreat down the mountainside. It was now the fresh Romani troops attacked. The entire front line held their ground, not chasing after the enemy since they were tired after the conflict. Instead, the second line of fresh ran down at the fleeing cowards with a speed never expected. The cavalry on either wing broke out of wedge to better chase down the cowards, and Cotta cleaved a path through the Arverni. They eventually reached the bottom of the mountain, where the land rolled off onto a gentle, relatively flat landscape. It was here the Romani received a surprise, which the fearless Cotta regarded a gift: a reinforcement Arverni army of 1,000 men had arrived, and was approaching them from the other side of the hill land.
"Reform the line brothers, reform the line!" Ordered Cotta, riding up and down the line he wanted to organise, waving his sword above his head and rearing his horse for dramatic effect. Once the tired soldiers were in order Cotta did an about-turn and gave a roar that even the Gods could hear.
"AAAATACK!" He bellowed, riding with his own sword held back, ready to stab. The infantry lagged behind, the cavalry rode far ahead. Less than 300 men on horseback were charging straight for a thousand spear armed troops, a mad-man's plan. But somehow it worked. As the Romani were pelting across the plain the Equites formed into a wedge, and all of the horsemen concentrated on the central unit of the Gauls, hammering a hole straight through their lines.
Once again Cotta found and slaughtered the Gallic leader, this time a simple captain, but a leader all the same. Even though they had hardly fought for any time the Arverni seemed ready to flee just at fighting the cavalry, but once the infantry arrived and began to slaughter them, the Arverni fled. Again.
So swift was Cotta's sword-arm, so brave and unyielding were his men, that not one of the barbarians left the field of battle. An entire army of more than 4,000 men had been devastated by an army of less than half that number. As Cotta rode up and down the battle field to cheer on his jubiliant troops, he rode over the bodies of the slaughtered Gauls, a fitting deed for such an invincible man.
Aftermath
After holding a mass funeral for their fallen comrades, the Romani soldiers set up their tents for the night. But Cotta did not sleep. Above all of his troops, he stood alone on the Cragged Peak, the defining point of the battle. Standing there, he stared down at the tents of his troops, remembering the swarm of Gauls that had been there only a few hours ago. One of his centurions came up to him and asked if everything was alright. Cotta shook his head.
"What is it sir? What else do we have to fear?" The Centurion asked innocently.
"Out there." Cotta pointed in the direction of Segesta, and beyond it the lands of the Galii. "Our scouts reported that more hordes of Arverni are coming at us. Even worse, they are coming with their strongest troops, led by some of their best Generals. They are coming here, through this very valley. They will fight us when they arrive." He concluded, folding his arms and smiling.
"Sir?" The puzzled centurion asked. Cotta looked at him with a wide grin on his face, and a twinkle in his eye.
"I hope they bring their own coffins."
