Battle reports thread - King of the Romans PBM

**GeneralHankerchief** · 09-16-2007, 05:27

Outside Caen, 1296

The command tent was much busier than usual that night, as three generals and their staffs were present discussing strategy among other things, instead of the usual one. It was a rather tight squeeze, but the general merriment of all patrons present made them all forget the rather cramped arrangements.

The three leaders eating, drinking, and debating were Dietrich von Dassel and Friedrich Scherer of the Reich, as well as their ally Prince Hanrrique of Portugal.

"And as a gift from your Mediterranean allies," said the Prince in a mild slur, "Several of our finest bottles of port! May you use them well!" There were several cheers followed by the loud gulping sounds of several people drinking at once.

"And from your, er... large, continental allies," said Duke Scherer in a merry tone of his own, "Many pounds of the Reich's finest beef! May they go well with the port, may they go well indeed!" More cheering accompanied this, several toasts were made, and the feasting began.

"You know," said Prince Hanrrique about halfway through, his mouth full of raw red meat, "You Imperials control half of the continent, are in the process of assimilating several cultures at once, and get lots of spices and other materials from the Greeks and Outremer, and this is the best food you can give me? BAH! Italy's been yours now for generations; where's some of that food, eh?"

"Well, my good Prince," said Dietrich, "We Germans are a warlike, savage people, in case our history since, oh, roughly one thousand years before Christ hasn't taught you." Much laughter, especially overloud guffaws, accompanied this. "We believe that there is no better pre-battle meal than red meat, taken forcibly from an animal that was conquered by our superior hunters. Kind of gets us in the mood."

"You make a good point," said Hanrrique with a grin. "Speaking of getting in the mood, shall we work out our exact battle plan now?"

"Yes, now would be a good time," Dietrich said. "Duke Scherer, you have an overview of deployment?"

"Yes," mumbled the Duke, speaking with his mouth full. He took a big swallow, washed it down with another sip of port, and continued. "As you know, the French force has temporarily broken the siege of Caen in order to deal with this combined threat - hence, me speaking with you at this moment. Sir Dietrich, you are the closest force to the enemy and will thus face primary engagement with them.

"Prince Hanrrique and his merry band of Portuguese doombringers" - more guffawing - "shall approach the battle from the east, hopefully slamming into the already-engaged French and breaking them. This plan is, in essence, the same strategy that Conrad Salier and Prinz Elberhard used against the Mongols in the second wave.

"Meanwhile, I will be leading the garrison of Caen to the battle from the northeast. I will primarily be supporting Sir Dietrich's army should the event arise where the French prove too much for his men." Dietrich snorted. "My force, the greatest numerically out of the four armies present on the field, shall also serve as a final sledgehammer should the combined efforts of Dietrich and the Prince fail to drive the French off the battlefield."

"An excellent summary, Duke Scherer," said Prince Hanrrique. "Dietrich, do you know what you are doing?"

"Yeah," Dietrich said with a grin on his face. "Kill all the French bastards, but save some for you so you can swoop in and win the day."

"Admirable sentiments," said the Prince. "Come! Let us eat and drink the body and blood of those already slain by better men!" The remainder of the night continued as such.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The Battle

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"They have artillery," said Dietrich, groaning. "God, how I hate artillery. Three regiments of trebuchets, six of the cursed things, ninety crewmen, already an abomination because they're French, but twice so because they're crewmen; Friedrich, how I hate artillery."

"Yes, sir," said Friedrich absentmindedly. He had evidently heard variations of this rant many times before. "So how will you deal with them?"

"Don't give 'em much of a window to fire at, I guess," said Dietrich, rambling. "I wanted to stay in place for a while, give 'em a few crossbow volleys since we have the upper hand this time, but staying in place is suicide against these things..."

"Sir?"

"All units forward. Just move. This heavy weaponry stuff could be the end of us, Friedrich. I don't like it - imagine, scientists winning a war instead of soldiers - real men! I don't like it!"

The Imperial line lurched forward with Dietrich still ranting on about how artillery, especially the trebuchet, was an abomination, and probably was invented by the slimy French since they were too weak and cowardly to resort to proper fighting and needed a backup plan, and how the inventor of the trebuchet was the child of - oh, crap, six flaming rocks headed directly for us.

The realization of that snapped Dietrich back to the battle.

"Keep in line, boys! Don't break the line! Just keep moving forward and they won't be able to hurt you any more!"

The first salvo of the rocks came down. Most were off-target; such was the consequence of using fire. One, however, came down directly on a handful of crossbowmen, crushing and burning them up, leaving their immolating bodies for the rest of the army to see as they moved past.

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"You want that *#%! to happen to you?" Dietrich yelled at the men. "Charge, boys; if you're going to die then die properly! Forward!" The Imperial line began moving at a run. The French in front of them did not stop but also marched forward. The two lines were now quite close and the second salvo of the French artillery undershot their targets, burning up a significant portion of their own men.

The Imperials, led by Dietrich, whooped. "Come on, men! They are backed by men that can't even aim right! Forward and show them that there is no escape!!!" The two lines met, and the usual melee began.

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Dietrich rode, backing the center of the Imperial line, and he saw something very odd indeed. The French center was already beginning to break. This was probably a factor of several variables, including the fact that they were town militia (what idiot of a leader would put the weakest unit in the center? Were they hoping for a Cannae?) and had taken a fiery trebuchet delivery in the back, but Dietrich, knowing that his reputation against the French was growing, could only think that somehow, he was the cause of this rout.

The regiment of Armoured Sergeants that were fighting in the center were now idled. Dietrich ordered them to assist their fellows and flank the Dismounted Noble Knights, opening up a gaping hole in the center of both lines.

If they're scared of me then this should make things much easier, Dietrich thought. "Come on, men! We lead by example! Charge those trebuchets!!!" His escort screamed forward, covering the open space between the battle line and the French artillery. Looking around, he saw that he was not the only one making that journey.

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After hacking away at the trebuchets for a while, he paused and took a look at the greater battle. It was over fast. The French units seemed to be breaking in a chain reaction; not because others were breaking, but because the Germans that were fighting those that had broke were turning their attention to them now. It would soon be time clean-up duty.

To the east, Prince Hanrrique and his escort led the Portuguese charge on the French position, still a good bit off from the main fight. He crested the final forested hill and took a view of the situation, clear for the first time. He chuckled.

"That dirty dog," he said, "He didn't leave any for us! Come on, boys, we can't be left out of this fight! Charge!!!"

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The Portuguese, along with Duke Scherer, tried their very best to get to the situation but it was over before they got there. The French were either dead or taken prisoner, and Dietrich trotted over, greeting them smartly.

"Prince Hannrique. Duke Scherer," he said, taking off his helmet and grinning, "You're late."

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**econ21** · 09-25-2007, 11:59

The battle for Jerusalem, 1302

Elberhard was glad to escape Europe and the thankless job of chairing the Diet for a while. A formidable Egyptian army had entered the province of Jerusalem and he had to lead his army to drive it off. However, the Prinz's army was still battered from its last encounter with the Egyptians, and so Elberhard ordered his Armenian captain, Kachig Iskyan, to recruit some mercenaries to make up the shortfall.

“There are some Khwarazmian cavalry units that would join us for a price.” offered the Armenian.

“Aren't the Khwarazmians Mohammedans?” queried the Prinz, cautiously. “The Diet is already giving me hell for cosying up to the Orthodox Byzantines. How do you think they will take it if I start drafting Mohammedans into my ranks?”

Kachig shrugged. “Are the Electors going to fight this battle for you? Is a sword Catholic or Mohammedan? No, the Electors are hundreds of miles from here, running around like headless chickens over this or that imagined plot against them. And you need these men. That Egyptian army means business.”

“You are right. @#$%^&!!! it - I don’t care which god those Khwarazmians worship, so long as they fight for me.”

“Very good, Sire, and now, I have something rather special for you today. Follow me and take a look…”

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Elberhard gazed up at the mighty armour clad beasts in front of him.

“Cannon? They’ve got @#$%^&!!!ing cannon on top of them? I don’t @#$%^&!!!ing believe it! Who the @#$%^&!!! came up that @#$%^&!!!ing idea?! Must have been some goddamn creative assembly.”

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The Prinz smiled to himself and shook his head admiringly.

Then he paused and said lewdly to Kachig: “Lift up that cloth over them, I want to have a look down below. This one’s a male, right?”

The Prinz peered under the elephant and then emerged, with a smirk on his face. “Hah! Better tell Duke Arnold - that soubriquet of his, old elephant balls, might be one thing that is deterring any of the ladies from saying yes to his propositioning!”

*****

The Prinz shuffled nervously.

“Three to two in our favour, you said?” he asked Kachig. The Armenian shrugged and mumbled something - not wishing to correct the Prinz and tell him the odds were actually reversed. Better to let him attack thinking he had the edge.

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“All right - can’t be that hard, then can it? But @#$%^&!!!, they do look rather formidable - all lined up like that.”

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“All right” said Elberhard, repeating himself, as if psyching himself up for the challenge. “Those handguns of theirs will make probably make a mess of our armour, but we may have an advantage in range. Let’s start off the battle by seeing what those Duke Arnolds can do. Tell them to aim for the rearmost cavalry unit - it will probably be their captain.”

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However, Elberhard had overlooked the fact that the Egyptians had their own long range artillery in the form of a pair of trebuchets. These monsters of wood and stone were wheeled out in front of the Egyptian army and began to launch fiery shots in the direction of the Prinz’s elephants.

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“@#$%^&!!! it! Take care of my Arnolds!” shouted the Prinz to Kachig. “Get them the @#$%^&!!! out of there! Send them to the hill on the right flank - at the double.”

Kachig bowed, slightly distressed at the clear evidence that the Prinz cared more for his lumbering beasts of war than for the brave men standing on the front line.

“All right” said the Prinz, taking stock. “So much for the blasting them from range. I forgot about their @#$%^&!!!ing trebuchets. We’ll have to try something else. Let’s send forward the pavise crossbowmen. We will still outrange them. Put the entire army in loose formation. I’ve seen what those trebuchets can do to close ranked troops.”

The German line advanced forward, moving into crossbow range of the Egyptians. However, the Mamluk archers swept in from the flanks and began to fire on the advancing Imperial army.

“Halt!” shouted Elberhard, calmly. Four regiments of pavise crossbowmen against three of Mamluk archers. The odds were still in his favour. One regiment of Mamluks began to enter a Cantabrian circle.

“Send in the Khwarazmians!” ordered Elberhard. He had no expectation the heavily armoured mercenaries could catch the horse archers, but they would at least prevent them using the Cantabrian circle to make themselves invulnerable to the German crossbowmen.

The Egyptians seemed to realise they were getting the worst of it and so sent forward two regiments of Sudanese gunners to assist the Mamluk archers. As the gunners got close enough to bring their weapons to bear, Elberhard knew he had to act.

“Send in the cavalry from both flanks. Let’s catch those fellows before they get too comfortable.”

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For a moment, it looked as if the battle was shifting decisively in favour of the Germans. The Sudanese gunners, and the Egyptian trebuchets, were run down in the charge of the Imperial cavalry. The elephant artillery, now sited on a ridge on the right flank, rained death down on the central mass of Egyptian heavy infantry and cavalry, which milled in confusion, reforming its line.

*****

However, like a swarm of angry bees, the Egyptian army started to group together and then surged forward towards the exposed German cavalry. Regiments of axebearing Tabbardariyya threw themselves at the cavalry locked in melee in the centre.

Hastily, Elberhard called for his cavalry to withdraw.

Then, like lightning, fast moving Mamluks and Royal Mamluks emerged on the flanks to pursue the retreating Teutons and Khwarazmians.

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Jan the Teuton’s regiment on the right of the Imperial line had smashed through a regiment of handunners and crossed the centre of the line. As a result, it was withdrawing down the left flank, pursued by enemy horse. This unfortunately left a retreating regiment of Khwarazmians as the sole cavalry available to defend the German right. The mercenaries were unable to hold against massed Royal Mamluks and Mamluk archers which vigourously pursued them.

“@#$%^&!!! it, I am going to lose me cavalry” swore Elberhard. “Kachig - bring back those elephants - get them to counter-charge on the right flank. Escort! Captain Jan’s Teutons are in trouble! Let’s help them out!” With that the Prinz launched his own escort towards the left flank.

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The Prinz’s escort was unable to reach the Egyptian cavalry pursuing Jan’s Teutons on the left and instead got bogged down in the centre, in melee with three regiments of axe-wielding Tabbardariyya. As he saw his escort falling around him, Elberhard could hear Linyeve’s voice inside his head: Be careful… you must not die… you have many enemies who would rejoice in your death.

But as Elberhard looked around, he could see no possibility of retreat. He was alone, behind the three enemy infantry regiments - to try to pull back through the axe-chopping infantry would be certain death.

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There was only one thing for it - Elberhard called out to his escort, over the heads of the Egyptian infantry that were interposed between them.

“Brothers! Follow me! Forward! Ride through these scum!”

The well armoured German knights spurred their heavy horses through the enemy lines and, as if by a miracle, all three of the regiments of Tabardariyya broke beneath their advance.

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With that “charge”, Elberhard had smashed the enemy centre. He quickly exploited it, crashing his escort into the rear of other committed enemy units and then overrunning into one of the remaining regiments of Sudanese gunners.

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The battle was now clearly the Prinz’s, but there was a price to be paid on the beleaguered right. There, only the mercenary elephants were holding up the Egyptian attack and even they were falling to the lances of the dauntless Royal Mamluks.

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Kachig ordered his pavise crossbowmen to stand their ground and fight the enemy heavy cavalry in a desperately uneven battle. The Armenian captain brought the decimated regiment of Khwarazmians to assist the crossbowmen, but it was not enough and the mercenaries died bravely in the cause of their hired masters.

In the end, the situation on the right was only saved by the arrival of Elberhard and the bulk of his army from the centre and left.

****

After the battle, Elberhard wandered, distraught, over to the fallen elephants.

“My poor @#$%^&!!!ing Arnolds.” he wailed.

Kachig angrily approached the Prinz: “Forget those animals, Sire!” chastised the Armenian, gesturing to the depleted regiments of pavise crossbowmen and spearmen. “If you must grieve, grieve for the brave men who died to give you this victory.”

Shamefaced, Elberhard nodded in agreement. But when the angry Armenian had left, the Prinz, who by now had recovered his good spirits, took aside one of his pages.

“Look, I want you to take an axe and cut off a piece of one of those beasts to send to Duke Arnold as a souvenir. … No, no, no, not a foot, I don’t want you to cut off a foot, I want you to cut off, you know their …”

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**FactionHeir** · 09-26-2007, 23:26

A small village somewhere at the foot of the eastern Alps, 1304 AD

There had been reports of rebels who raided and pillaged the many small villages that littered the foot of the Alps, but to date, they had always eluded the Imperial forces that marched through, on their way east. It was time that someone put an end to this menace thought Hans, who was also eyeing the newest addition to Swabia: Ehrhart.

"Ehrhart, it is time you earned your spurs."

"Very well, I have been waiting to test my skills with the blade on a foe for many years now, and I am humbled by your attention my liege." was the reply.

Hans nodded. "Indeed, you will have ample opportunity. In fact, it will just be the two of us and a small company of men who will be defending this village here tonight."

"Just us two?! They may be rebels, but last reports indicate some 500 or so men with spears and horses. How are we to defeat them on our own? We have the Imperial army with us, why not use them?"

"You have much to learn Ehrhart. We nobles are priviledged to lead men, and to do so, means to not waste lives needlessly. Anyone can muster an army to defeat this force, but to do so with a sense of chivalry is different. Besides, the Imperial army would be spotted too easily. Us two can lay in waiting and strike when the time is ripe."

Ehrhart was too loyal a man to disobey such words or reason, although he believed in simply killing his foe rather than doing so honorably.

-----

A villager ran up to Hans, shouting between gasps and waving his arms wildly. Before he could speak anything audible, Hans raised his hand to stop him, only nodding and saying calmly: "They are coming, I know. Get to safety and have all villagers stay in their homes."

"Well then Ehrhart, let us show these rebels that to attack a German village is to attack the empire itself. To battle!"
Hans signalled his men to follow and charged the nearest regiment of rogue militia spearmen, while Ehrhart joined him only after the regiment was decimated and fleeing and Hans was already charging against the next.

Lances broke through the little armor most of the rebels wore and each charge by the two nobles left only a mass of dead or nearly dead raiders, with few horses to be seen in between. Ehrhart was dazzled by it all, less leading than following Hans' orders during the battle. His retinue on the other hand was busy protecting him from any blows he might take while staring at the scene, still wondering which devil rode his adopter to attack so boldly and relentlessly.
It was then, that he noticed how the veterans under Hans' command did not merely reform to charge, but at times charged through the rebel ranks without even galloping more than a single step.

Finally exiting his trance-like state, Ehrhart got a grip of himself and led a charge into the rebel leader's retinue himself to prove his worth and gain knighthood.

It was not after long, that the last regiment of rebels were scattering and running from the two men, who had fought so bitterly and with such determination and instilled fear with their very presence.

After the battle, Hans rode his horse next to Ehrhart, laying a hand on his shoulder, he spoke: "While you were not too eager to fight them, you did prove your worth towards the end by throwing yourself into the fray with spearmen in pursuit. For that, and your service to these villagers and the empire, you are hereby Knight Ehrhart."

Before Ehrhart could respond, Hans had already rode off to the village square to address the villagers. Finally a knight was his only thought.

**Cecil XIX** · 09-28-2007, 01:04

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Although he was about to go battle, Edmund Becker was very happy. A new general had appeared name Lorenz Zirn, and he was seeking his knighthood under Duke Arnold. Even better, he had just heard that Karl Zirn would be returning from Outremer. Yes, he was quite pleased.

“I tell you Karl, it is a good day to be alive. Soon Duke Arnold will have ample replacements for me, and I can resign from this army and finally govern over my beloved Prague. My beloved’s beloved Prague, for that matter.”

Karl did not answer. He had been staring at the walls of Bucharest with a depressed look on his face for quite some time. He soon snapped out of it and turned to Becker.

“Well my lord, here’s hoping that this siege goes better than the last one.” His carefree expression fell apart when he realized what he said, and he turned away.

Becker turned to regard the usually irreverent figure. It was only by the slimmest of margins that he had met Edmund in Bran, when the Count was making a tour of the ranges. Eager to start a retinue, Edmund immediately offered him a position.

“It’s all right. I can’t blame you for feeling so poorly after what happened, especially after what my wife went through. But this is different.” Becker continued as he absent-mindedly scratched one of his scars. “I’ve proven myself to be quite difficult to kill. I swear to God I am not going to die to today. There will be not chance of that happening what so ever.” He sighed to himself heavily. “I still have to see Prague. Now then, let’s go about making some better memories.”

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* * *

The battle started with a bit of a surprise: The walls were abandoned.

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“This is rather odd.” pondered Becker. “But it doesn’t change what me have to do. Get those gates open!” This was not a difficult job for two Grand Bombards, who opened the gates in an instant. “Get the troops in line to enter the city.” Becker ordered.

“Now then,” he thought, “Let us see how they react. If they’re just waiting at the center then that’s fine, but I won’t have my boys caught unawares in the streets somewhere.”

Becker’s patience was soon rewarded when the city garrison arrived on the walls and started firing on his soldiers. He turned around and smacked his advisor, which was more for effect what with the armor. “What the hell is this? Why’d you tell me we couldn’t deploy any further when we’re not even beyond bowshot?” Before he could get an answer, he realized that the artillery had already taken out three of the towers.

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“That’s good! Target the wall next!” It only took one salvo from the two cannons to send an entire section of the wall crumbling down. With a keen eye Becker spotted that there were on Hungarians in front of the gate. He quickly shouted orders. “Cavalry, ride to the city center! Infantry, advance upon the two breaches! Artillery, take out that last tower!”

As the men advanced, Edmund came to the embarrassing realization that those orders would have been better off given in the reverse order.

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Regardless, Imperial Knights soon began riding through the eastern gates of Bucharest to the surprise of the Hungarians.

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But the enemy were no fools, and the Hungarian militia engaged the Imperial cavalry while the Imperial foot engaged the Hungarian militia. The result was a rather confusing melee.

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This arrangement soon proved it’s effectiveness when the Hungarians fleeting to the city center found half of the Knights blocking their path. The Hungarian general Oremus Samuel had planned on coming to the aid of the militia, but a quick peek at the situation made the futility of such an act obvious.

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With the walls taken, Edmund began issuing new orders. “All right, let’s get going! Surround the center from all sides! Sergeants, what do you see?”

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A sergeant walked up to Edmund quickly. “My lord, the Hungarians have one full unit of milita, one quarter-strength unit of militia, and a Hungarian Noble.”

“I see. Well then, let us wait for the other regiments to get in position. We need to do this right.” At that point, Karl spoke up.

“Sir, what about the crossbowmen? They can be put to good use if the enemy’s just going to sit there.”

“Interesting. Very well, bring them up. Worst case scenario, we draw them out to us.”

The crossbowmen reached the center, and soon began shooting at Samuel. Samuel wanted to stop this.

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It was a noble effort, and he died in a suitably manly fashion with a sword in his arm and enemies on all sides.

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“Very good. With him dead we have nothing to fear. Just rush those last few militia.”

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It was an easy task for the sergeant and zweihanders.

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As Edmund marched into the city triumphant, the town hall caught his eye.

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“Did we do that?”

**econ21** · 09-29-2007, 19:22

Caen, 1306

As Karl’s horse crested the brow of the hill, he could see before him Count Scherer’s army arrayed for battle. The legendary Swabian general had deployed his men, the combined militia of Paris and Rheims, to force a way through the French besieging Caen.

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Karl raced down the hill, skirting the French lines on the forward slope of the hill. The foe were not numerous, but impressed Karl with their professionalism. At the front, well-armoured aventuriers stood, ready to rain crossbow bolts down on any attackers. Behind them were foot knights and a single regiment of mounted knights.

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Thankfully, the French paid no heed to Karl - perhaps thinking him one of their own. The young German knight made it through to his own lines. There, he was shocked that no one intercepted him, a knight in full armour, heading straight for the German head quarters. All around him the militia seemed unconcerned or uncertain. Only when he approached Count Scherer’s own escort was he stopped and his identity demanded.

“I am Sir Karl Gorg, a knight from the Caen garrison.” Karl proclaimed.

Count Scherer had observed Karl’s rapid approach and came over to speak to him.

“Can we expect your garrison to join us?” the Count inquired.

Karl felt shame deep within him. The garrison, led by an overly methodical and cautious commander, Captain Hermann, still had not broken out of Caen.

“They may yet, my Lord, but garrison is hard pressed breaking through the French barricades.”

Scherer nodded. “Very well, we waste no time in assisting them. Sound the advance!”

Karl was alarmed - he had seen the professional French army awaiting them. The Count’s militia may outnumber the enemy considerably, but they would be no match for them in combat.

The Count looked at Karl with a smile: “You will ride with me, I hope?”

Karl bowed, honoured at the request to join the Count’s escort.

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The French lines advanced - peasant crossbowmen leading the way in loose order. The Count ordered them to target the French knights, rather than try to duel the aventuriers. After them came the spear militia, backed by town militia and halberd militia. On each flank, a regiment of militia cavalry was sent to get behind the enemy lines.

Karl rode with Count Scherer behind the mass of the German militia. He could see the violence being worked by the aventuriers on the hill. Militia fell by the dozen and lay moaning or screaming in the grass. Karl looked at the progress of the militia cavalry on the two flanks. On the right, he was appalled to see one rider fall after another. Within a couple of minutes, the regiment had been reduced from sixty to less than a dozen.

“My God!” exclaimed Karl. Never before had he witnessed such effective archery.

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He turned to look at the German left. Amazingly, the militia cavalry regiment there had drawn up level with the French line without being molested. Then Karl’s eyes made out something in woods. A body of enemy horsemen had hidden concealed on the right of the French lines.

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For a moment, Karl thought the militia cavalry might charge the French mounted knights in the rear.

“Don’t do it, don’t do it.” Karl prayed quietly under his breath.

Already one of the two militia cavalry regiments had been destroyed. Karl had little doubt the same fate would await the remaining one if it entered combat unsupported against the pride of French chivalry.

“Send a regiment of spearmen to engage those mounted knights on the left.” ordered Count Scherer to his aides. Then, as if remembering he only commanded militia, not professional sergeants, the Count added: “Better make that two regiments of spearmen.”

But the Germans were not to have the initiative in this battle. As the Germans approached the aventuriers, French knights charged through the aventuriers and headed straight to the militia struggling up the hill.

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All along the lines there was a clash of arms. The French knights, both mounted and on foot, clearly outclassed their opponents and soon most of the militia regiments were at half strength or below. Only the reputation of their general kept the Germans in the fight.

Count Scherer turned to Karl grimly: “Well, young man, it looks like our presence at the front is required.”

Karl held up his lance in a salute as Count Scherer ordered his bodyguard into the fray.

The Duke made straight for the enemy general, whose mounted knights were threatening to overrun the German right.

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Karl fought ferociously, cutting his way to the enemy general and then bringing him down in single combat. The young knight was exultant - through valour of arms, he and Scherer’s escort had surely won the day!

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However, when Karl turned, he saw in horror, dismounted French knights with poleaxes closing in on Scherer’s few remaining bodyguards. The Count himself was hemmed in among the trees, trapped between brave aventuriers and vengeful foot knights.

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As Karl saw the body of the Count fall, he screamed in anger. This was all Karl’s fault - he should have stopped the general attacking alone; he should have brought the Caen garrison up in time. News of the brave general’s death spread among the German militia like a shock wave and soon the entire vast German army was in rout.

Karl shouted to the crossbow militia: “Stand your ground! Fight like Friedrich!”

Then the young knight took his horse and raced up the hill, desperate to find if the Caen garrison had arrived on the field. When he reached the small, but professional garrison, he rode straight to its commander, Captain Hermann.

“Count Friedrich is fallen. The battle is almost lost. I beg of you, Captain, give me command of the regiment of mounted knights. I may yet be able to save the day!”

Captain Hermann was a general who would never earn the soubriquet speedy, but even he could not fail to be moved by the impassioned young knight pleading before him. He nodded: “God go with you! I will follow with the infantry as fast as I can.”

Karl led the Imperial knights in a frenzy, leading them to smash one regiment of aventuriers after another.

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By the time Karl’s men turned their attention to the enemy foot knights, the fighting spirit of the French was broken. Count Scherer’s mission to relieve Caen had succeeded, but at the cost of the Reich’s most distinguished general.

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Some weeks after the battle, Karl received a letter from Prinz Elberhard:

Originally Posted by Elberhard

Sir Karl Gorg,

I am saddened to hear of the loss of Count Friedrich Scherer, a true hero of the Reich.

But as one hero dies, another is born. I have been told of your part in saving the battle and wish to offer you a battlefield promotion. You will be given land and estates and made an Elector in the Reich.

Please accept this great honour,

Yours,

Prinz Elbehard

Karl let the letter fall, unanswered to the floor.

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**Dutch_guy** · 10-05-2007, 23:03

Placeholder for the siege, assault and sack of Constantinopel.

**Cecil XIX** · 10-05-2007, 23:11

“So it has come to this again. It seems the peasants and the nobles alike want to keep their city to themselves”

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Edmund Becker addressed his army.

“Men! We have Hungarian wolves at the wayside, just waiting to pick to pick off good Imperials who have the courage to go and fight. So let’s take this city quickly, and make sure to keep the walls intact! Now, to battle for the Reich and Saint Michael!”

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Though there was a heavy rain, it did little to obscure what needed to be done. There were five towers to take down, and cannons to do it.

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Once that was done it was a simple matter of advancing on the walls. The rebels had only one unit of archers to contest with and they futilely spent their arrows on the walls.

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In Edmund’s haste to make sure the ladders were properly placed, he was very much surprised to see the enemy Knight’s riding forth from the city gates and attacking his Zweihanders.

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“That it, they’ve given us an opening! Infantry, cavalry advance!” Soon Imperial soldiers were swarming into Bucharest without so much as splinter having fallen from the gate.

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On the walls, the rebel foot archers were firing their last salvo.

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Again, the Imperial cavalry surged forward. They would be ready when the rebels tried to flee back to the city center.

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That did not take long, as the men defending the walls were all peasants and levies. A few units broke almost upon contact.

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But the battle was far from over, with many enemies standing between the Reich and control of the city.

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Becker quickly hatched a plan to send the infantry through the main road,

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While having the cavalry flank them by moving along a side road.

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This led to the cavalry almost being flanked, but Becker was prepared for that too.

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Still, the fighting inevitably degenerated into chaos.

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Becker ordered the cavalry to extract themselves from the fighting and approach the city center from another direction while the infantry pushed through.

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After that, the rest of the siege was textbook. The infantry and the cavalry moved in from multiple directions, surrounding the then outnumbered defenders and wearing them down from all side. Unfortunately most of the remaining soldiers were knights, and they took a heavy toll before falling.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**GeneralHankerchief** · 10-08-2007, 00:45

The Diary of Dietrich von Dassel

Durazzo, 1314

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No really, I thought, rolling up the scroll and burning it. What a waste of paper. If raising an illegal army, housing the greatest threat to the Papacy (Alexander Luther), and marching that army on Durazzo, de facto capital of the Papacy in the name of Luther's teachings with the intent of killing the Pope wasn't grounds for excommunication, everyone might as well just coast into Heaven right now. I laughed. Wouldn't that be something?

As far as marches went, it was a rather fun one. The men were clearly motivated, and we may have heard Hans's screams of frustration at the fact that he couldn't catch me from here. Plus, after that assassination attempt on Luther, we actually gained men who wanted to join the cause, which was a welcome rarity in army marches. Granted, the fellows didn't have much experience... or armor... or weaponry. However, they did have zeal, and there are some occasions where zeal counts for the most.

If only the most zealous were always the most well-equipped to fight...

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Anyways, we finally arrived at Durazzo. It was a beautiful day, clear skies, all that. We were also somewhat surrounded and definitely outnumbered. But the nasty part of it would come later. Now came the catapults.

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We brought six of the shiny, lovely, wooden things with us from Ragusa to Durazzo. I remembered back in the Diet when Jan von Hamburg was flapping on about them and how there was no possible way they could be used to keep the peace in Ragusa, which at the time was my main excuse for housing that large army. I simply ignored him on that point. Ignoring him is fun. I must make a note to ignore him more often. Perhaps me completely ignoring him will actually ruffle his feathers a bit. That would be fun to see.

Before the catapults began their salvos against Durazzo's poor walls I had a couple of things to do. First of all, I had to address Luther. He was our religious ace in the hole, after all. I was confident in my generalling skills that day, but still, I was outnumbered by quite a bit. I told him to use all of his religious mojo to pray that second, massive army away, or at least delay them a bit. He seemed taken aback at my request but considering how I had sheltered him for the past few years and the fact that I was dressed in my full, intimidating, battle regalia he complied.

The second thing was to make the usual inspiring speech to the troops. I had this sort of thing in my mind for a while now. One's head generally gets overloaded with inspiring speeches when one gets stuck with garrison duty for a number of years. As a result, it came out a little over-the-top. Of course, I had people with zeal on my side, so maybe it was perfect.

"Men!" I said, in a nice, manly, let's-get-down-to-business tone, "Before us lies our goal! Durazzo, home of the puppet! Durazzo, home of the old crone! Durazzo, home of that Byzantine!!!" They cheered at that last bit. I grinned behind my helmet. I love it when something in a speech goes right. "We come here today," I continued, "A persecuted people, chased by our own kind, chased by people determined to run the Reich into ruin just to complete their own misguided agendas!" More cheering. I felt like a Kaiser. Oh wait, scratch that. I felt like a Duke. Actually, some Dukes are really having some problems nowadays. Scratch that too. I felt like... a popular leader. Let's leave it at that.

"They have tried to take everything away from me! Gentlemen, look at me! I am without a County. I am without a House! Men, they were even trying to rob me of my freedom before we made our march! But *#%! it, I have an army. And an army is all you ever need in life!!! We are the Army of Light, for that is what we bring to the world! Light, knowledge, and the truth! Nobody can take that away from us!!!" Cue army going beserk. Cue me nervously scanning the horizon searching for that huge Papal army scheduled to grind us into oblivion. Cue me not seeing anything and silently praising God and Luther (not necessarily in that order) for siding with me today.

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"Anyway, enough talking!" I concluded, because I really wanted to take the city before that other army decided to show up. "Catapults, show 'em what you've got!!!"

And they did. The lovely, shiny, wooden things did their work and launched those rocks at the enemy's walls, which vibrated so much from the impact that they sent the poor men on them flying. Of course, Pope Abbate or whoever was actually commanding the men saw the danger in this at once and gave the order to promptly abandon the walls. I remember turning to my aide, Friedrich, and remarking that I take back everything I ever said about artillery. He just shook his head.

I kept them firing long after it was necessary, grinning. Say all you will about the Reich's current state. The people of Durazzo, especially those who live on the north side of the city, will still say that we're pretty damn powerful. It felt good. Plus, it gave me some time to think about how to assault the city, where a large Papal army was waiting for us.

Mainly, I thought about those Religious Fanatics that had joined us halfway through and where they would fit. My first inclination was to use them as shock troops; they certainly had that required zeal. But then I realized they didn't fit the other definition of shock troops: effective. Forlorn Hope were good shock troops. They were effective. These Lutherans were like Forlorn Hope, only they suck. But then I realized that - hey! - the walls were abandoned and I wouldn't need any shock troops, period. Eventually I decided to put the Lutherans in reserve and use them as a buffer where extra manpower was needed.

"Sir?" Friedrich tugged my arm, snapping me back to life. "The northern walls are pretty much gone. Should we go in?"

I stared at the walls. The assessment was quite accurate.

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But then I saw that the gates, while now completely redundant, still stood. I couldn't have that, now, could I?

"Not yet," I said. "Tell the catapults to bring the gate down."

"Sir? You do realize that-"

"Just do it," I snapped. "Catapults! Bring down that gate!"

They did so. I grinned. We were ready to go in.

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Our men marched in, slowly, relaxed. There was need to speed up. After all, the walls - or what was left of them - were abandoned. There was no army behind us pushing us to move in. We had all the time in the world. I liked that. It's rare in war when you can be so organized in the middle of a battle. I ordered my units in and they went exactly where I placed them. Amazing.

A lone regiment of Papal Guard was standing at the entranceway to one of the main streets, daring us to pass. I laughed. Did they expect to be like the Spartans at Thermopylae? Did they expect to hold back the crush of my men? I ordered most of my infantry in to break them. The people in the numerous regiments of Dismounted Feudal Knights, Armoured Sergeants, and Zweihanders inevitably slipped through the cracks and sent the Papal Guard fleeing. The Papists would have to find another way to beat me.

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The main vanguard of infantry continued to move up the main street, occasionally encountering resistance. I dispatched a smaller group consisting of the Lutherans and two regiments of Armoured Sergeants to take a side street in support. Once enough area was secure, the archers and cavalry moved in. Order was progressing nicely, with the vanguard almost reaching the end of the main street. They were facing a minor resistance in Italian Spear Militia, who were being roundly defeated. Then I saw some movement that was rather surprising.

Cavalry - it had to be the Pope, since that was the only horse unit in the place - was moving, ready to back up the Italians and slam into my Zweihanders. But then I saw the Pope (poor lad, he was German, after all) move past the main action... right onto the side street where the Lutherans were ready to intercept him.

I laughed out loud. Pope Abbate was alone, without infantry support, against nearly two hundred and fifty pissed off Lutherans who had been taught for the past years that the man deserved to die. Zeal would certainly account for a lot in this skirmish.

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It was almost comically quick. The poor guy was right at the front of his unit when they ran into the Lutherans. His men put up a valiant fight but they simply couldn't reverse the fact that their leader was an old fat guy who had no military experience whatsoever. He fell rather quickly and a humongous cheer went up among the Lutherans, buoying the main group (who had intercepted potential infantry support).

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Anyway, the fight continued until it was a brutal showdown in the town center between us and the majority of the Papal infantry. I received a report from the catapults saying that the enemy army was finally in sight and that it was beginning to savage them with long-range weapons of its own. I ignored it. Killing the guys in the town center mattered now. After reading Kaiser Heinrich's reports on defeating the Papacy and taking Mediterranean settlements in general it seemed like this was the hardest part. I spent most of my time alternating between watching the battle and breaking into houses to steal food.

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The fight dragged on, blah blah blah. We lost some, they lost some. I received another report from the catapults. Time to get serious. I broke into one final house with a delicious scent of cake emanating from it, ate a slice, re-mounted my horse, and gave the final orders to the cavalry:

"Charge, boys!!!"

The Papal infantry was already at the breaking point, pressed to the limit by our men. That final cavalry charge, 150 horses screaming in, was simply too much. They died easily. Clockwork.

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"Men!" I screamed to my army after it was all over. "You have been vindicated! Re-unification lies in ruins! The puppet is deposed! You have exercised the Reich's authority and I salute you for that! The final Papal army approaches. Enjoy your spoils, make them remember this day forever as the day where they were too slow to prevent this from happening!"

And then, I exercised my final atrocity against the city of Durazzo.

"Kill them all."

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**OverKnight** · 10-11-2007, 14:47

The Battle of the Iron Bridge, 1316

The bridge over the Orontes north of Antioch was called Pons Ferreus by the First Crusaders, the Iron Bridge. An imposing name, even if the bridge was just stone. The locals called the river it crossed the Farfar, and so the bridge had been Latinized into its current name. Still, despite the inaccuracy, Matthias was pleased with it. It was a good place to make a stand, at the Iron Bridge. The Crusaders would need Iron to make it, an iron will and strong weapons to turn the tide of the Greek advance. As pleased as Matthias was to return to the field, he was outnumbered and outclassed in cavalry.

The Greeks were anxious to secure their line of supply to Antioch. They were willing to spend quite a few Florins on mercenary cavalry to ensure this and the destruction of one of the three remaining Imperial armies in the East. They needed the bridge, which is why Matthias had asked to come here. Adana might be gone, Outremer almost overrun, but he now held something they wanted. That gave him, tactically at least, the upper hand.

Matthias turned to his troops and spoke.

"Crusaders! Germans! The Chosen of God! We make our stand here! We have been pushed back by the Greeks. We sought to abandon our Covenant with the Lord, and we have been punished for it. We have almost lost the Holy Land, our sacred trust. But now, now, we fight back! No more retreat. No more gifts. No more diplomacy. We draw the line here! Now is the time for Blood! Now is the time to reforge our Faith and our Honor in the Crucible of Battle. Glory to God and death to the Greeks!"

A cheer went up among the men, hope rekindling in the hearts of men who had almost lost it. Matthias prayed it would be enough. Faith was a powerful weapon, but only if channeled properly. He looked north, he would have his answer soon.

Matthias had placed his spearmen in front. The knights and zweihanders were behind them, ready to charge in once the lines met. The crossbowmen were on the flanks, their firing lines angled to form a kill zone in the middle of the bridge.

The Byzantines led with bowmen and infantry, as they charged across the bridge, Matthias ordered his spearmen forward to cap the exit of the bridge with a V formed by the two units. They arrived just in time to meet the Greeks.

The spears held, barely, and Matthias ordered his heavy infantry to join the maelstrom at the head of the bridge.

It was a vicious melee, but the Imperial foot had the advantage of positioning. The Byzantine foot stuck on the bridge and unable to make it to the the front line were mercilessly cut down by the crossbowmen.

The infantry soon fled. The Kwarzimen, held in reserve to pursue the expected routers, were thrown into the battle. Rather than give them room to fight and bring the weight of their horses to bear, Matthias ordered his infantry onto the bridge to block them. The crossbowmen would do most of the killing this time.

It was touch and go, but the horsemen broke as well. Matthias giddily ordered a general pursuit, laughing as he killed the fleeing Byzantines.

The Teutonic Knights were ahead of the rest of the Imperial forces when the Greek cavalry rallied. They charged into the Teutons.

Matthias, swearing at his own stupidity, ordered the foot into the fight as he counter-charged with his own retainers. He was taking losses he could ill afford. Fortunately, the Greeks' resurgence was temporary and they once again broke.

The Butcher's Bill

The prisoners were ransomed for nearly four thousand Florins. Matthias was tempted to send them to Hell, but he did need reinforcements and money was tight.

After the battle, Matthias was content. The Greeks had been bled, the line had been held and he had found a good place to make a stand. This time, he would not be taken by treachery, he would not be dislodged. He would hold the Iron Bridge.

**GeneralHankerchief** · 10-12-2007, 04:04

The Diary of Dietrich von Dassel
South of Bologna, 1318

We had arrived at Bologna a week prior, but I had declined to attack up until now. This delay was most certainly not my doing; if I had it my way we would have kept right on marching and bit the enemy right in the rear. Of course, if I had it my way back in 1300 I would have been Chancellor, the Kaiser would have been forced to Diet opinion, and we might not have been in such a terrible position in the first place.

Upon seeing the Byzantine army for the first time, my men - my hard-core veterans! - went and got major cold feet. Leading the dissent were the Balkan Archers I had picked up at the start of my march and, more surprisingly, Alexander Luther's very own Religious Fanatics, the same people that had killed Pope Abbate in a frenzy. Now that the odds were slightly against us, they had done a 180 in their opinions; now Luther didn't matter, the Cause didn't matter, defending the Reich didn't matter. They simply would not attack because I was apparently throwing all of their lives away for nothing.

Not even the most passionate speeches by Luther nor the nastiest threats by me could move them from their position. After the third day of the impasse I finally decided to just let them desert before the defeatest sentiment spread to the rest of the men. Of course we were facing bad odds, that was the idea! The Reich needed this kind of victory, and we were the ones that would deliver it to them!

The next few days were spent by me scouring the countryside in search of some less-cowardly men, for with the desertion of the Fanatics and Balkan Archers we were definitely screwed. Eventually I found some Mercenary Spearmen and Pavise Crossbowmen, men not quite devoted to the Cause so much as money. They saw the odds but instead of deserting they simply raised their prices. I was forced to comply.

Finally, after the seventh day, we were ready to move in. And so we did, with me still asking myself whether I was a *#%!ing idiot or not for making this crazy move. Obviously, I kept that sentiment to myself. I didn't want any more men deserting or doubting me.

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The way things were set up, the Bologna garrison would come in from the east and smash the Byzantine force. The one thing we had going in our favor was that about half the ridiculously large army consisted of peasant archers, men who surely knew my and the Army of Light's reputation. If we charged in and flanked them... maybe they would break. Maybe. The small men that were part of the Varangian Guard or the Kataphractoi would be harder to disperse, however.

Our men advanced slowly and deliberately for the time being. I wanted to conserve their energy, for once they got in range of the enemy's archers they would need to run if there was to be a significant impact to my charge. As such, the garrison of Bologna got to the fighting first and began to overrun the enemy Horse Archers placed on the extreme flank.

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The Byzantines, including the archers, held their positions as the Bolognans slowly overwhelmed the missile cavalry. Good. If they had turned and unleashed their arrows onto the flanking force... well... let's just say that there wouldn't have been a flanking force for long.

Our men stopped.

"Crossbows, take aim!" I shouted. I could hear similar commands being made in Greek on the other side of the battlefield.

Since I had given the order first, our bolts hit their targets faster. There was a moment of brief celebration as we saw some of their hundreds of archers go down, but it was short-lived. The hail of arrow fire was coming our way. Everyone braced themselves for the worst.

I sat up in my saddle, facing the storm. I remembered tales of Thermopylae, where the Persian archers had blotted out the sun, the Persian archers that were part of a numerically superior but inferior in quality force. The Byzantines here, the descendants of the same Greeks that had fought at that mountain pass so long ago didn't block the sun, but they came close.

Arrows came down everywhere, sometimes six or seven to a shield. Dozens of men dropped, but our missiles took the brunt of the casualties. I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that it wasn't worse.

"Infantry, charge!" I roared, and they instantly ran, hoping to get to the enemy line as quickly as possible. "Crossbows, stay here! Keep firing!"

It was an amazing sight. The Byzantines got one volley off into the infantry before my men closed. And then, just over three hundred men charging scattered off three times that number of men, leaving the infantry to take the brunt of the charge.

All of those numbers and none of them want to fight Imperial infantry face-to-face, I thought. Amazing.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

My glee was short-lived. Our flanking force was closing in, yes. But so was theirs. Hundreds of Byzantine archers worked their way around the battle line, in our infantry's rear, on both my sides, between me and the infantry, and there was only my escort and crossbowmen to hold them off.

I charged into the closest regiment of archers, killing a good amount of them instantly and sending them running. Hopefully it would last and they wouldn't regain their nerve and come back. I spotted another nearby regiment. Lather, rinse, repeat. But this time it was tougher. The enemy held on longer, we had to kill more of them to make our point, and I lost a couple of horsemen.

After disengaging, I took a look at the greater battle situation:

- Our infantry was in good order, defeating the inferior Byzantine infantry.

- Many many many many many archers still lurked.

- The Bologna garrison was about to become a major thorn in the enemy's side (literally)

- I was about to receive more pressure. After turning around, I saw both some Kataphractoi and the Varangian Guard slowly making their way towards me.

"Oh dear God," I muttered. I guess this was the downside to having a reputation. Desperately turning to my infantry, I started screaming.

"Withdraw! Withdraw! You've killed enough infantry! Time to go after the meat!" My men looked around in confusion, and then saw what I was facing. Bless them, they ran. The Army of Light stuck up for each other.

There was a minute of me evading enemy archer fire, cavalry charges, and infantry engagements. Then, two things happened: The Bolognans, in the midst of their flanking push, struck down the enemy captain. Secondly, our Armoured Sergeants engaged the Varangian Guard. Of course they were getting slowly mauled but the important thing was that the enemy was pinned.

"Ride around the rear, then charge!!!"

My escort did so, breaking the famed Varangian Guard and freeing up the beleagured Armoured Sergeants. Unlike with the archers eariler on in the battle, my men spent extra time chasing down and killing every single person in this regiment.

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The process was repeated later on with my infantry and the Kataphractoi. They pinned, I charged. The enemy ran, I pursued. The meat was gone.

The rest of the demoralized enemy quickly routed when realizing that their captain was dead and that the elite units were no more. Our flanking action had gone spectacularly, and the rest of the battle was simply my exhausted men hunting down and destroying routers.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

At the day's close, we looked at the official casualty count: It had been a crushing defeat for the enemy. Around 85% of the enemy was not able to escape the field that day. Our losses were relatively few, and the Army of Light was ready for continued action. Plus, and most importantly, we were now more confident, all of us. There would be less desertion after they learned that they could do this.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The final thing I had to deal with was the six hundred sixty nine enemy prisoners. That was quite a lot, and ransoming them would give us a lot of money to use for further operation.

"M'Lord," said Friedrich, my aide, "What should we do with them? We could use the money."

"Kill them," I said without a moment's hesitation. "If the Byzantines want a war, we'll give it to them. This sends a message. This sends her a message, wherever she is."

"Yes, sir," said Friedrich, bowing.

"We may not win this thing," I said to myself, "But we'll make it a fight. We'll make it a fight."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**econ21** · 10-12-2007, 07:52

The storming of Antioch, 1318

Elberhard sat with his head in his hands. His time as Chancellor was coming to a close and the enormity of the ruin the Reich had experienced under his stewardship was overpowering.

“Chin up.” said Linyeve, breezily. “It can’t be that bad.”

Elberhard looked up, exasperated. “Can’t be that bad? Think of what I have “achieved” during my term of office. I’ve given away a large chunk of the Reich. Seen my Kaiser assassinated. Watched my men sack the capital of our most faithful ally. Stood by as zealots killed poor Pope Abbate. Had my partner run off with the entire Treasury. Can there ever have been a worse King of Rome?”

Linyeve smiled, as if enjoying her husband’s discomfort: “Oh, I am sure there has.”

“Who?”

“Err… Nero, perhaps?” Linyeve teased.

“@#$%^&!!! off!” said Elberhard, emphatically. “It’s not my fault.” He whined. “The @#$%^&!!ing Bavarians killed the Kaiser. The @#$%^&!!ing Franconians started the war with Byzantium. The @#$%^&!!ing Austrians killed the Pope. And the @#$%^&!!ing Swabians are killing themselves! Only the @#$%^&!!ing crusaders in Outremer have been true.”

“Yes, and you @#$%^&!!ed the crusaders over, didn’t you?” said Linyeve, evilly.

Elberhard sunk his head back into his hands.

“Look” said Linyeve, seriously. “Forget about internal politics. You won’t have to worry about that for a while. There are far greater threats externally.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I heard from my contacts at the English court. The Poles have been putting out feelers to all the Catholic powers. They are trying to organise a crusade against us. And not just any old crusade – not just each nation sending one to take one of our cities. But a crusade to crush the Reich completely. To take advantage of its weakness. Already our enemies are mustering fresh armies and preparing to cross our borders in concert.”

“Who is part of this alliance?”

“Everyone. Or almost everyone. The Poles have even brought the Orthodox Russians on board. The Hungarians have led the way with their destruction of the First Household Army of Austria. The breaking of the siege of Thessalonica has encouraged the Venetians to go on the attack. The Papacy is enraged by the extermination of Durazzo and the killing of the Pope. The surprise victory at Ajaccio is spurring the Sicilians to raise a massive army to do it right next time. The French can barely contain their delight at Swabia falling into civil war and rebellion. While the Danes have seen the arrival of Peter von Kastilien on their borders as the signal for a renewed drive on Hamburg.”

“And they are all going to work together?”

“Yes. While the Byzantines hold our attention in Italy and Outremer, the rest of Europe will fall on our flanks and rear.”

“@#$%^&!!ing hell!” sighed Elberhard. “What do I do?”

“Oh, that’s easy. There is only one thing for you to do." Linyeve said grimly: "You fight.”

*****

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

After a night march, the Kaiser’s army had arrived at Antioch. Elberhard watched with interest the deployment of the two batteries of cannon. He had been impressed by the stories of this new weapon and was keen to see it in action.

“Target the gates” he ordered.

One volley and the gates were down.

“@#$%^&!!ing hell!” said Elberhard appreciatively.

He turned to Jan the Teuton. Jan winced, remembering the fury with which the Kaiser had greeted him on return from Rome.

“Captain – you are in command. Bring up the army through the gates.”

Jan looked puzzled, as Elberhard spurred his escort off through the gates.

“Where does he think he is going?” he muttered as the Kaiser and his men entered the city alone.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

As the army began to approach the city, Jan saw crossbows start to poke out of the adjoining towers and fire on his troops. Through the smashed gates, he could see Byzantine cavalry arriving to block the entrance.

“Sergeants!” Jan called out. “Through the gates! For God, for Kaiser and for the Reich!”

The armoured spearmen poured through the gates into the enemy cavalry. Although the Muslim mercenary cavalry holding Antioch for Byzantium was well armoured, its main advantages were neutralised by its caught stationary and in a confined space.

“Archers! Indirect fire – shoot over the walls!” ordered Jan.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The fighting was bitter but brief. Soon the enemy were in flight and through the gates Jan saw the Kaiser’s escort pursue them.

As Jan entered the city, he was greeted by an exuberant Elberhard.

“Great scrap, eh?” said the Kaiser. “Right – bring the spearmen through the streets. But halt them just a little ahead of the walls. I want you to create a killing zone for the enemy cavalry. Place the crossbowmen on the walls, so they can provide support. I am going to move to the east side of the city, so I can hit them in the flank as they fixate on you.”

Jan saluted. Sounds like a plan, he thought.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Even Jan was surprised by how successful the Kaiser’s tactics were. The Byzantine cavalry could make no impression on the German schiltrons. After the death of their general, the enemy seemed crippled by low morale. Typically they would advance – take heavy losses from the crossbows on the walls – and then flee after only the weakest pretence of engaging the German schiltron.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

After his men had expended about half their ammunition, Jan heard a loud “hurrah!” coming from the east side of the city. Evidently the Kaiser was making his move.

“Charge!” roared Jan.

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After the battle, Elberhard returned to Linyeve, his face flushed with pride.

“Well, it’s a start, I suppose.” she said.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**Northnovas** · 10-13-2007, 13:09

Sofia Region – Road to Budapest 1318

The marched had started and the recruitment was slow. The Count had managed to organize a regiment of spearmen from the stragglers of Bucharest and what he had they were all veterans. The recruits were with the crossbow men. There were more recruits then regulars. Peter his logistics man was able to scrape equipment for them and a limited number of arrows. They were all good hunters with the bow. The Count felt fortunate to finish his Army off with some Reiters he had met recently met and some Knights.

This was the Karl’s first battle against a European Faction. The scouts told them they were slightly outnumbered and it was mainly spearmen. Not what Karl wanted to hear; their level of experience was unknown. There was no avoiding he must fight.

The Count surveyed the ground it was a frosty morning and the light snow on the ground gave some disadvantage fro anyhow climbing. He rode up to the Crossbowmen.
“Archers, for many this is your first battle. All that I ask of you men is to concentrate on your tasks at hand. You were picked because of your marksmen ability. Keep your focus on your target and ignore everything around you. Listen to your Captain’s orders and good hunting. A roaring cheer went up from the men; these boys were ready thought the Karl to himself.
Karl then rode up to the Captain of the Spearmen. The Captain looked up to the Count and nodded to acknowledge I know what needs to be done.
“Protect them archers; I can’t have them leave the battlefield.” Karl said very quietly to the Captain.
“I will watch them as if there my own, my lord” said the captain as he turned to the Regiment and barked some orders.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

There were 3 Regiments of Spearmen and 1 Regiment of Feudal Knights. That was the unit that concerned the Count. All missile units concentrated on the Knights. They began to fall.

The cavalry charged!

They fled before coming to the Austrian line.

Spearmen were left and the Reiters and Crossbowmen concentrated on the formation coming directly to the Austrian line. The Hungarians were wavering. The Count’s tactic was working the Spearmen were being hit in the rear by the cavalry before they could set.

The morning was over soon enough.

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A victory no matter how small was all that was needed to build on for the recruitment drive to Budapest thought Zirn.

“My lord, we have prisoners. What are your wishes?” asked the Captain of the Spearmen.

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“Release them!” Karl ordered and rode off. The Captain had a bit of a quizzical look but followed through with the order not showing his utter contempt for the enemy and really knew little about the man he was following; Karl Zirn the Hounourable.

**econ21** · 10-16-2007, 00:34

Budapest, 1320

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

“When the cannons fire, you run - right, Klaus?”

Young Klaus looked petulant: “What - run carrying this ruddy great pavise? Who do you think I am? Hercules?”

The older man, Conrad, started to wag his finger: “Look, idiot, we are about all the Count has got to rely on in this battle. Look around you - his army is a bunch of half trained militia. The Magyars will cut through them like a hot knife through butter! We have to get into the city and onto the walls. The militia will hold off the Magyars and we’ll do the killing. Right?”

“I am sorry, did you say something about butter? God, I’m starving.” Klaus looked distracted, and very hungry.

Conrad’s face turned red: “Idiot! Look, just run when … damn it, that’s the cannon! God be praised the gates are down in one volley! Now … RUN!”

*****

Klaus and Conrad puffed their way to the northern gateway to Budapest. Ahead of them, they had seen Count Lorenz be the first to ride into the city. It was said he had received a personal letter from the Kaiser himself, explaining the tactics used to take Antioch and was seeking to apply them here.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The two German crossbowmen then clambered up the steps to the walls, pushing and shoving with the throng of other Germans racing to get into the city before the garrison belatedly plugged the breach. The gate tower had not been guarded. Count Lorenz had ordered two regiments of militia to make feints for the western and eastern gates, hoping to draw off some of Budapest’s ample garrison. The stratagem had had only limited success - two insignificant Magyar regiments had been roused at the eastern gate. But perhaps the confusion caused by the multiple threats explained the failure of the garrison to guard the key northern gate in strength. The Magyars were clearly trying to correct their mistake - for Klaus could hear the sound of fighting out in the streets. Clearly the German infantry spearhead, a regiment of Zweihanders, was meeting opposition.

When Klaus reached the top of the city walls, he turned to look at the combat below him. The Germans had managed to secure a perimeter around the gates, preventing the Magyars infiltrating their own archers onto the walls. In the streets, Klaus could see Magyar cavalry taking aim at the German infantry.

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Conrad could not believe the chaos and confusion in the German ranks. Crossbow militia, halberd militia, zweihanders and spear militia were intermingled and packed among the narrow city streets.

“Look!” shouted Klaus in alarm. In the distance, Conrad could make out the gleaming armour of chivalric knights coming to assist the Magyar cavalry. If the Germans did not get organised, this could get nasty, thought Conrad.

“Form ranks! Form ranks!” shouted the halberd militia captains.

“Form schiltron!” screamed the spear militia captains.

Slowly order began to emerge.

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As the Magyar horsemen were being worn down, Klaus heard the sound of horns and trumpets coming from the east.

“It’s the eastern gate - Count Lorenz has opened it from the inside!” said Conrad exultantly.

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Meanwhile, the two professional infantry regiments - the zweihanders and the armoured sergeants - had been extracted early on from the melee in front of the north gate and sent east down a side road.

“Where are they going?!” asked Klaus.

“Like us, they are too good to waste on in the carnal house down there. They are going to get behind the enemy.” announced Conrad. “If we can trap the Magyars in the streets, they will lose heart. Let the rebels get back to the city centre and they will fight like demons.”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

With their general dead, the Magyars trapped in the northern streets were slowly cut down and eliminated. The Zweihanders and armoured sergeants began to approach the city centre. There, a remaining Magyar cavalry regiment entered a Cantabrian circle, targeting the German shock troops.

The pavise crossbowmen were helpless to intervene - they were out of range.

“All right you maggots, off the walls! Get down to the city square or do you want to just stand around, watching the others get the glory?” screamed one of the crossbowmen’s officers.

“Glory?!” muttered Conrad, “What an ass!”

The crossbowmen dutifully filed down the stairs and off the walls, but before Klaus left, he saw Count Lorenz’s escort come charging in from the east, riding hard for the Magyar cavalry. While the Cantabrian circle protected the Magyars from return fire, it hopelessly disrupted their ability to evade melee.

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As the crossbowmen came within range of the city centre, they heard the boom of the German cannons. Every available man in the German army was now pouring into the central forum, overwhelming the last defenders.

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In the sacking of the city that follows, 4688 innocents lose their lives - and 15904 florins are looted. For this victory, Count Lorenz will earn the reputation of being a promising commander and identify both a promising veteran warrior and a shield bearer among his retinue

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**econ21** · 10-16-2007, 10:57

Aleppo Province, 1320

“Captain Jan, I want you to sit this one out.”

“My Kaiser, why? Is this some punishment for what happened in Rome – I have explained…”

“No, listen – I have put out a call an open call to all honourable men left in Outremer. I have proclaimed the need of Christendom and stated that the good people here stand in dire peril. I hope to rally ex-Crusaders to our cause. As a Captain of the Teutonic Order, I want you to take charge of the recruits and whip them into shape.”

“But Kaiser – the recruits will be experienced fighters, I am sure I can get them organised in time to join you in your attack on Strategos Nikolaos.”

“Maybe, but Nikolaos has only a small force – he will surely withdraw rather than give battle to a large army. No – you stay; I’ll challenge him with the men I have now. We can re-unite afterwards if all goes according to plan.”

“As you command, Kaiser.”

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*****

“All right, Kachig – what do we know about Nikolaos’s men?”

“A ragtag force. But it includes several war machines. I would not recommend trying to shoot it out.”

“Too @#$%ing right.” swore Elberhard, “I don’t want them frying me Arnolds.”

“Kaiser – if I may interject – a key strength of the Byzantines is their infantry.” said Sir Charles de Villiers, the veteran English warrior that Linyeve had introduced to Elberhard’s retinue. “They have something of the quality of the old Roman legionnaires. While our knights can match them, they will carve through our sergeants.”

“And we have only one regiment of knights.” sighed Elberhard, beginning to regret leaving Captain Jan and his re-enlisted crusaders behind. “So we hit them with cavalry.”

“That will not be easy” interrupted Kachig. “Nikolaos’s own escort are the formidable kataphractoi and he has some lancers too.”

“All right.” Elberhard had heard enough. “This is the plan. Kachig, you deploy the infantry on this raised ground on the right in a defensive position. Loose order, to minimise losses to their war machines. Close up when the enemy get near. Put me Arnolds on the right flank, but keep ‘em safe. I’ll mass our cavalry on the left.”

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“We’ll work our way round the enemy’s rear and take out Nikolaos, their cavalry and then their war machines. Kachig – the infantry will just have to hold until we can assist.”

“Of course, Sire, but try not to tarry.” said Kachig.

@#$% it, thought Elberhard, I’m taking orders from a @#$%ing Armenian mercenary now.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

*****

The battle was fought at night and the darkness masked the flanking movement of the German cavalry. Elberhard aimed his large escort at the most powerful Byzantine unit – Nikolaos’s veteran kataphractoi bodyguard.

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Gradually, Elberhard’s flanking force overwhelmed the outnumbered Byzantine cavalry and then overran their war machines.

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The German anvil – their foot troops - was sorely pressed by the superior Byzantine infantry. However, the cavalry hammer arrived just in time to prevent excessive losses.

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*****

After the battle, Linyeve advised Elberhard to try to ransom the prisoners.

“You need the money.” She said simply.

“Should I not follow King Jan’s example and release them?” said Elberhard.

“One King who is known as the merciful is quite enough.” said Linyeve emphatically and then she looked at Elberhard suggestively. “You are my champion and I want you to stay that way.”

Unfortunately for the Greek captives, however, the Byzantines were in no mood to fund their cash-starved enemies.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**OverKnight** · 10-18-2007, 19:01

The Sally out of Antioch

Matthias gave a prayer of thanks as he reviewed his troops. After he had grudgingly agreed to garrison Antioch and abandon the Iron Bridge, he feared the Greeks would pour south in great numbers around the city. They indeed came south, but they had dispersed themselves to the bridge, Antioch itself and Aleppo. Rather than conquer Outremer one settlement and army at a time, the Byzantines sought to overwhelm them all at once. They seemed to have limitless men, but their arrogance was their weakness. A weakness Matthias was intent on exploiting.

His reverie was broken when he came to the four cannons ready to be deployed from the north gate. Matthias was intrigued, he had never led gunpowder artillery into battle, but the construction of the Royal Arsenal at Adana had given him some familiarity with the new weapons.

He approached a battery and spoke to the sergeant in charge of one of the cannons.

"Your gun is ready? I intend for you and your fellows to play a key role tonight."

The gunner nodded, "Aye lord, Feuer Faust here is ready to go, you get us outside the walls and we'll send some Greeks to hell."

"Fire Fist? You name the weapons?"

The artilleryman smiled, "Yes lord, the other cannon in this battery is called Spitfire. Named after the Kaiserin Linyeve herself."

Matthias chuckled and shook his head, "I hope that doesn't get back to her Majesty. Good hunting Sergeant."

Mounting his horse, Matthias looked about him. The troops were ready and it was the witching hour, time to give the Greeks a nightmare.

The Pavise Crossbowmen were deployed on the walls facing the besiegers.

The cannons and the spearmen of the garrison deployed from the north gate in the shelter of the walls that thrust out around them in a U. As the men took position, Greek horse and foot archers came forward to disrupt the move.

The bowmen on the walls kept them engaged as the cannons began firing on the main Greek force.

Demetrios Diogenes, the Greek Strategos, in an effort to raise the morale of his men, told them the Germans couldn't hit the side of a Cathedral with their new cannon. He died in the third volley.

Disoriented by the loss of their leader and the aggressive use of an unusual weapon, the Greeks prevaricated, content to continue skirmishing with their missile troops. They withstood fire until the cannons ran out of powder and shot.

Matthias ordered his men forward, with the spearmen followed by the fanatics and swordsmen.

The Greeks' will to fight melted on contact between the two lines. The rout was on.

The cannons had served Matthias well. He sent Feuer Faust and Spitfire on to the Kaiser with his compliments. The ransom on the prisoners was refused and they were put to the sword.

The Second Battle of the Iron Bridge

Matthias surveyed the Iron Bridge with his good eye. Privately he had expressed doubt to the Kaiser and King Jan that he could take the bridge without heavy losses. Still, he now had cannons. A battery had gone east to the Kaiser, but he had kept one for his own army, with them a bridge assault might be possible.

Matthias deployed the cannon near the bridge, but outside the range of the Greeks' older artillery. Pavise Crossbowmen were in loose formation to the left and right of the battery and the rest of the troops were hidden in a palm grove further back. If the Byzantines were goaded into crossing, they would be in for a surprise.

With a roar, the two cannons began firing across the Orontes. Matthias ordered them to concentrate on the Greeks' defensive line at the mouth of the bridge. After a few hits, the troops redeployed into a loose formation as they retreated back from the river.

Matthias looked on, a grim fire in his eye. Their hold on the bridge was disrupted, now to take on their siege machines. If left intact, they could thwart any Imperial assault with a well placed shot.

Half the machines were wrecked and their crews scattered, but the cannons were now out of shot. Matthias ordered the crossbowmen to the banks of the river to further soften up the Greek line.

Sensing that the moment of decision was coming, Matthias spurred his horse out in front of his infantry.

"Men! Germans! The way is clear! Look at those cowards on the far shore, they are no match for the Chosen of God! We will go across the bridge and smite the infidels where they stand."

Despite the speech, there was some muttering among the footmen. Matthias looked about, Gunpowder and God might not be enough to inspire them.

Lowering himself off his horse and sending it away with his squire, Matthias drew Iron Faith, the sword of Saint Maximillian.

"I will lead the way! Follow me and we will take the bridge! Nothing can stop us, for we walk in the Light!"

Turning, Matthias brought the sword down, pointing to the north.

"For Saint Maximillian and the Reich! Forward!"

Screaming in a frenzied state, the footmen, with Matthias in the lead, charged across the bridge. The Byzantines marched forward to reestablish their line, but they were met with withering missile fire from the far bank.

Running as fast as his armor would allow across the bridge, Matthias heard the shudder of the remaining greek trebuchet in motion, he could feel heat all around him as the night went red.

But the shot missed. Matthias charged into the Greeks' line, his men a step behind. Iron Faith struck true, as three Greeks died in a moment. He was lost in the battle, a blind rage consumed him. Only when the Byzantines began to break did he emerge from the fury to order the cavalry to pursue.

It was over, the Iron Bridge belonged to him again. The prisoners were killed after a ransom offer was refused. Matthias knelt, covered in gore, and offered a prayer of thanksgiving. The Lord had granted him and his army victory, first at Antioch and now here. Come what may, he would hold against the Greeks, he would hold. And one day, if the Lord saw fit, he would pry Adana from their hands and he would have his vengeance against one Greek in particular.

**Northnovas** · 10-20-2007, 01:52

Winter 1322 Budapest Region

The three commanders had talked all through the night. The last message from the Duke was to cooperate and defend the eastern border. They sat and eat breakfast.

After some silence Karolinger spoke “So it is agreed we are going on the offensive and we will attack by night.” The other two men nodded in agreement.

“Yes Friedrich it will be by night, it is something I have learned in the east fighting the Turks. They will not be able to support each other at night and the odds will be more even in battle.”

Young Zirn interjected “Besides I have not completed the fortifications of the city after we recaptured the city. We are not ready for an assault on the city.” Everyone nodded in agreement.

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“The sun is up time for some sleep we have a busy night ahead please make sure the best regiments are ready to go for the march this evening. I will retire to sleep. Karl then raised his mug of the soothing hot black liquid in the air. “Victory!”

“Victory!” as both men raised their mugs and prepared to retire for the day.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

It was a cold night with a light snow on the ground the moon was breaking out of the clouds. Lorenzo Zirn took command of the main body on a key hilltop. Karl Zirn and Friedrich Karolinger went off to the far right flank.

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The Hungarians marched towards close order formation.

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Karl turned to Friedrich “They have no gunpowder. Those are old catapults they will have some effect but we will cut them down before they get started.” Friedrich nodded in agreement and their units swung far right to come behind the enemy.

The Austrians maintained the hill advantage and let the Hungarians march up the icy slope. Fireballs began to rain onto the top of the hill. The Austrians did not budge. Lorenzo Zirn barking orders at the men and having the missile regiments concentrate on the approaching front line of the enemy.

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A break in the battle the enemy general goes down and causes uncertainty in the enemy ranks.

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The Hungarians could not get a footing on the hill and began to waver. The catapults were stilled by Zirn and Karolinger’s rear attack.

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The carnage

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The battle was won and Karl Zirn ordered the men to press on to round up the routing enemy units. Karolinger took glee in the chance to finish off the enemy.

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The battle was won and there was still no sign of sunrise. The commanders met to discuss the battle and the wounded were being tended too. The casaulties were hign.

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Peter the veteran warrior of Karl Zrin’s entourage approached the men to give the prisoner report.

“My lord the prisoners have been rounded up and accounted for. It is reported that there could be a significant ransom. Same procedure, sire!”

“Execute them all, don’t give them a chance to fight again!” shouted Lorenz. Karl nodded to Peter and he left the generals.

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The three men celebrated their victory however it was short lived because there was another large enemy force in the region that had to be dealt with for the defence of Budapest.

**************

Budapest Night 2

The Count lied on his cot has the physician tended to some minor wounds. They were minor to the joint pain the Count was feeling with age. The physician was summoned to help the Count to prepare for the ride in battles and the chronic pain afterwards. He administered his special ointments and wraps.

Peter came into the tent. “Count Zirn, we just received a scouting report. The second Hungarian Army was closer then we thought and they are actively looking for us by following the retreating First Army thinking maybe we are pursuing. We may have the upper hand.”

“Another night attack?” groaned Zirn has he got up from the cot. “Do we have the manpower and are the men capable of another assault so soon?”

“Yes, my lord!” replied Peter his voice building with excitement. “Ingo has been walking and talking amongst the men and they are willing to go anywhere especially with three valiant nobles leading them. There is also word that the Second Army was a support unit for the First and they mainly have missile regiments. A planned attack by night will make those missiles ineffective.”

Zirn thought for a moment. “Very well that is why you are an advisor. We only have a few hours. Prepare the men to mobilize and have Lord Karolinger and Zirn meet me here in 30 minutes.
Doc! Bind my joints it will be a long night.”

The three generals sat on their horses huddled together there was a cold north wind blowing. The battle conditions were not has optimal has they were last night.

“It colder then a witch’s tit, their bodies will be frozen corpse before they hit the ground” sneered Lorenz Zirn. the other two looked at the young Zirn with amusement. Though nothing was amusing about the searing pain Karl was feeling in his knees. The extra binding offered no warmth to this wind.

The Bavarian was also feeling the cold it had been awhile since he felt a night like this back home in the Alps. Gathering his thoughts he finally spoke though feeling every breath he exhaled was robbing his own body of warmth.
“Karl, you will lead the attack tonight and we will be the support behind you?” Karolinger thought the plan bold possible too risky but they were running out of resources and the Hungarian missiles had to be stopped if they were to maintain the initiative.

“Yes my friend, we will be the main attack. The Reiters will cause a diversion to the right and the Knights will stay to their left. We will swing around and hit full force.” Karl’s voiced trailed off thinking to himself “shock troops”. He then saw the signal it was time to move out.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The diversion tactic was working more then the Austrians anticipated. The Hungarians were scrambling around their lines trying to set up the artillery units up.

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The Hungarians outnumbered the Austrians in missile units but the Austrians moved in for the shoot out.

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The enemy units began to falter and the generals moved in for the main charge.

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The Hungarian noble goes down and the enemy units began to falter. The horsemen continued the attack the Austrian crossbowmen moved in closer. Confusion was everywhere in the Hungarian lines. Another victory was at hand.

There was much celebration in the Austrian camp. Casualties were few and the campfires were roaring bringing heat to the frosty night.

The commanders were in the tent wrapped in animal skins protecting them from the bitter cold. The heat radiated from the fire countering the cold wind blowing against the tent. The grog never tasted so good. A battle with relatively few casualties, men they could not afford to loose.

Young Zirn finally spoke up “ I hear there are a number of prisoners tonight. I could easily get rid of them for you my sword is still sharp from tonight and I have not cleaned it yet. It will not be a problem and will give the men something to do in this damn cold.”

The Older Zirn only smiled and shook his head thinking of his first meeting with the young noble who does not see the whole picture yet because of his youth. “Thank you for your offer.”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**econ21** · 10-21-2007, 11:48

The ford outside Antioch, 1322

A letter from Kaiser Elbehard to Count Dieter von Kassel:

Count Von Kassel,

You asked me to provide an account of the battle at the ford across Antioch. Young man, I am ashamed to say, I had precious little to do with it.

The plan was for your uncle, King Jan, to pin the Byzantine army so that they deployed on the west side of the ford. I would then strike their rear from the east, unimpeded by the river.

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Well, things got off to a decent start, although only my veterans had arrived by the start of the battle - the recently recruited crusaders were delayed. As I arrived on the battlefield, Vardariotai approached at speed and began a duel with my crossbowmen. The arrival of my Arnolds seemed to discomfort them however and they withdrew.

At around the same time, your uncle ordered his crossbowmen to fire over the ford, to keep the Byzantine’s attention and stop them turning en masse on my advance guard. I had desired the Army of Jerusalem to pin the Byzantines in place but otherwise play a largely passive role in this fight, as it was rather cut up after having fought two earlier battles this year. However, King Jan’s skirmish fire seemed to sting the Byzantines into action and they charged over the ford, led by their legendary Varangian Guard.

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Well, I say legendary Varangian Guard, but in my opinion, they are a bunch of ~~@#$%^&!!!~~ pussies. As the Byzantines emerged from the eastern side of the ford, King Jan’s foot knights met them at the charge.

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I can tell you, young man, there is nothing quite so vexing as watching helpless in battle as the enemy falls on your men. My army was marching on the rear of the Byzantine army, but the enemy had turned all its attention to King Jan and seemed sure to overwhelm the depleted Army of Jerusalem. Yet I had not reckoned on the magnificent fighting capacity of our men. A wave of purple emerged from the ford, but it crashed helplessly on the rock of the Army of Jerusalem.

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King Jan’s men held - nay, they did better than hold, they started to push the Byzantines back towards the ford. My army was now within range and the Byzantine army found itself trapped in the confining corridor of the ford.

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I watched the fighting on the eastern bank of the ford and could make out the banners of your uncle’s escort as he threw himself into the struggle.

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King Jan’s charge marked the decisive stage of the battle - the Army of Jerusalem pushed the Byzantines back into the water and slew their general.

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The rest was just a mopping up operation. My own escort alone captured 400 prisoners. As I had promised King Jan, we released the unfortunates. However, I fear they have been re-equipped around Damascus. If I come across them again, they may not be so fortunate.

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For a very modest cost, we had destroyed a full Byzantine field army.

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This frees me up to march to Damascus. En route, I had a night battle with a small body of Byzantines. I rather suspect they were beneficiaries of one of your uncle’s earlier acts of mercy. He is a fine man, your uncle, but sometimes he does not make things easy for us.

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I hope you stay safe in Acre, young man. As I march south, I aim to be in a position to support you, should the Papacy again turn its attentions to your citadel.

Kaiser Elberhard

**OverKnight** · 10-25-2007, 17:15

The Raid into the Levantine Frontier, 1224

"We are no longer men, Adalric, we are wolves," Matthias said to the newest member of his bodyguard as they rode north from the Orontes.

"We cannot face our enemy in open battle, at least not yet, we must first nip at his flanks. Separate the weakest members from the larger herd and bring them down. We must strike at night, defend bottle necks and use the terrain to our advantage."

Adalric nodded, but looked uncertain, "It's not exactly honorable, is it my Lord?"

Matthias sighed, his face becoming grim, "Honor? We don't have the luxury. Honor and chivalry have their place, but first we must survive. What do wolves know of nobility? What do noble men know of survival? Once the Greeks have been bled and finally crushed, then honor and chivalry can help us rebuild Outremer. But for now, in this time of trials that God has sent us, it is the hour of the wolf."

The rest of the ride took place in silence.

The First Battle

The raiders came upon an army led by Captain Rossos and fell upon them in the night.

Matthias seized the high ground. The cannon and archers were deployed to take full advantage of this.

Captain Rossos, taking fire from the cannons and crossbowmen, advanced his archers to reply. Matthias, seeing that they had come too far forward, charged in.

The move stripped the Greeks of many archers. Their foot pursued futiley as he withdrew down the hill. They were now out of position and the Imperial infantry charged in after several volleys from the crossbowmen.

The lines met, and the Imperial cavalry rushed in to assist.

The Greeks broke, with the infantry joining the archers in flight.

The Second Battle

Again Matthias caught a Byzantine army on the road at night. He thought the Greeks must be reinforcements for the armies to the south, due to the marked majority of archers. No field army would have such an imbalance.

The Army of Antioch was deployed in loose formation on a hill overlooking a small valley between the two forces. The cannons and crossbowmen were deployed forward, with the infantry behind them and the cavalry on the flanks. The cannon began firing on the Byzantine catapults.

A lone unit of Byzantine archers advanced tentatively against the Imperial line.

It was mauled by Imperial bowmen. Other Greek archers came up in support.

Matthias, wary of being overwhelmed by the weight of their fire, ordered the Teutons on his right flank to charge.

The knights crushed a unit of Greeks and then withdrew only to wheel about and charge in again, trampling a second unit. Riding back to the Imperial line, a few Teutons were lost, but the Greek archers, those that did not rout, retreated back to their line to reorganize.

While this was happening, cannon fire had wrecked the Greek catapults and bloodied their infantry.

The Byzantines rallied, and Captain Slavos led his archers forward again. Matthias, sensing a moment of decision, charged in with all his cavalry.

As the Imperial horse bore down on him, Captain Slavos was killed in a hail of bolts.

With the horsemen among the archers and their Captain dead, the Greek infantry decided to withdraw. An organized retreat soon turned into a rout.

The second army was crushed as well.

Adalric approached Matthias after the battle.

"What are we to do with the prisoners? Try to ransom them?"

Matthias, surveying his captives, shook his head, "No, the Greeks have refused our previous offers. If they will not pay, then we must teach them fear. The prisoners will be executed and their rotting bodies left on this road. Any Byzantine army that marches past, on their way to Aleppo or the Iron Bridge, will see the bleached bones of their comrades, and know what awaits them if they continue to fight us. The terror will grow in their hearts, giving us a needed edge in future battles."

Adalric paled, while he had no love for the Greeks, this stark decision shocked him, "Ah. . .As you say, my Lord."

Matthias took note of the man's hesitation, "It is a terrible thing I do, I know this. But tell me Adalric, what do wolves know of mercy?"

**AussieGiant** · 10-25-2007, 20:04

Deleted uploads by accident. Sorry.

**FactionHeir** · 10-26-2007, 23:11

This is a happy placeholder.

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**econ21** · 10-27-2007, 22:15

This story is jointly written by Mini Econ and econ21.

The Second Battle of Acre, 1324

“Sire, the Kaiser’s Army is arriving to relieve us!” shouted a lookout.

“Excellent,” said Dieter, “Angus will be most pleased.”

“Angus?” muttered Herman, a veteran warrior. “Who is this Angus?”

Gunther the shieldbearer groaned: “Angus is the Count’s new warhorse. I think the Count wants to put him through his paces on a battlefield.”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

At the council of war, Dieter proposed an intricate plan. The relief force would march up from the right and get behind the Papal lines before striking. The aim would be to first decapitate the opposing army by killing their general. The crossbowmen from Acre garrison would position themselves on the left flank and so be able to shoot unimpeded into the backs of the Papist soldiers. The aim was ultimately to drive the enemy force towards the walls of Acre, where they would be fired upon by the defenders and easily captured.

However, the plan did not survive contact with the enemy. The Acre garrison started to deploy before the relief force had drawn up and in response, the Papal besiegers started to advance forward - six regiments of pavise crossbowmen at the front.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Dieter planned to hold position and wait for the relief force. As he was talking with the captain of his crossbowmen, a bolt fired from long range struck the man down.

“Hermann - we cannot stand here and take this punishment! Lead the Teutons on the right; I will take my escort on the left. When we draw level with the line of Papal crossbowmen, we will turn on them and drive them between us!”

“Are you sure this is a wise move, putting yourself in danger?” said Siegfried the tutor.

“I cannot stand here and watch my men die. We ride!” declared Dieter. “And Angus needs the exercise!”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The German cavalry took heavy casualties from the massed fire of six regiments of Papal crossbowmen. It was something of a relief when they reached the Papal line and the enemy were force to drop their bows in order to defend themselves with swords. The Germans enjoyed a brief interlude of carnage, before the second Papal line of spearmen surged forward to drive them back. Captain Hermann, assigned to lead the Teutons, was toppled from his horse by the Papal Guard and left for dead on the dry Acre soil.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Most of the Papal archers were now running or dead, so the Acre defenders were now able to skirmish on advantageous terms. This continued until the relief force drew up. Dieter ordered the fresh cavalry strike at the right flank of the enemy line.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Dieter watched the havoc being wrought by the cavalry of the relief force and, as the Papal line began to turn to face this new threat, Dieter resolved to renew the old threat.

“Sire, there are only eight of your retainers left! We cannot go charge again!” protested Gunther, the shieldbearer.

Dieter said nothing, but closed the visor on his helmet and spurred Angus forward.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

After his charge, Dieter surveyed the battle. It was going well, but his heavy cavalry was becoming severely depleted. The enemy morale was holding up well. Dieter thought for a moment and remembered Hermann’s initial plan.

“The mounted crossbowmen have been targeting the enemy general, but his men protect him well. Order the crusader knights to bring him down!”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

After the battle, only Gunther remained unharmed out of Dieter's escort. But the Count was relieved to hear that his veteran warrior, Hermann, had been found, suffering only from concussion. He was even more relieved to hear that the small slash on Angus was not infected.

Nearly 400 Papal soldiers had been captured and Dieter addressed them solemnly. As at the first battle of Acre, he prayed with them and offered them the chance to redeem themselves by allying with the true crusaders against the Byzantine butchers of Bologna and Rome.

The Count of Acre was rewarded for his victory by being knighted by Kaiser Elberhard.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**AussieGiant** · 10-30-2007, 22:05

Ragusa 1326

"He's £"$%£$ing what!!!??"

The messenger from Lord Zirn blanched sheet white, much to the amusement of Arnold's retinue.

The news was not good. The separatist Becker had ordered his merchants to confiscate as much wealth as possible to support his cause, what had happened as a result was a number of merchant wares and crops from Vienna had been taken.

While Duke Arnold ripped the message into tiny fragments, Grom turned to the assembled captain's and Arnold's Polish Swordbearer Szcepanski.

"Right you filthy whoreson's get your men ready!! The Venetian's could not have come at a better time, we are going to war this afternoon and there's going to be more merchant bloody on the ground than you've ever seen in your short insignificant lives!!

Szcepanski get the Duke's sword ready...and make it sharp, really $%£"$ing sharp."

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

Behind Arnold stood the massive walls of the Ragusa fortress, in front was the entire 2nd Austrian House Army in close order.

The Duke sat astride his Jet black Stallion encased from neck to foot in his Black Obsidian Armour. The massive twenty one hand beast was a gift from Lord Zirn and had been shipped all the way from Spain. It was clearly agitated, it's nostrils faired as it stamped the ground while biting large chunks of wood out of the catapult frame near it.

The Dread Duke was brought out of his revere by the horses actions.

Turn in his saddle:

“For $E%^£$ sake Grom I thought you said you fed this thing...it's eat $%ing wood man...what on earth has Zirn given me...”

Turning his attention back to the beast he yanked it's head away from the catapult frame. The horse was not pleased, turning it's head, it attempted to bite it's master. An open hand slap of considerable force from Arnold's black gauntlet hand seemed to convince it that any further action would be painful.

In response the stallion began pacing across the front ranks of it's own accord. Giving up on controlling the beast for the moment Arnold stood in his stirrups and addressed the troops.

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

“Men,

You are not all going to die today, in fact only twenty percent of you, right here today, will be killed in a major battle.”

A murmur of shock ran through the thousand strong 2nd Austria Army

“My point is death must not be feared!!”

Arnold's voice smashed across the plain in which every available regiment was assembled for the coming assualt.

“Death, in time, comes to all of us!

Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he's not, he's a $£%ing liar. Some men are cowards, yes, but they fight just the same, or get the seven shades of shiet smashed out of them!!

The real hero is the man who fights even though he's scared. Some get over their fright in a minute, under fire; others take an hour; for some it takes days; but a real man will never let the fear of death overpower his honour, his sense of duty, to his country and to his family.

All through your Army careers, you've been bitching about what you call "chicken-sheit drills." That, like everything else in the Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is instant obedience to orders and to create and maintain constant alertness! This must be bred into every soldier. A man must be alert all the time if he expects to stay alive. If not, some Venetian or Hungarian son-of-a-bitch will sneak up behind him with a sock full of sheit!

An Army is a team, lives, sleeps, fights, and eats as a team. This individual hero stuff is a lot of horse shit! The £%$£ers who say that kind of stuff don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about %$^£ing whores!

Every single man in this Army plays a vital role. Every man has his job to do and must do it. What if every archer decided that he didn't like the whine of a canon shell overhead, turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? Where in Hell would we be now? Where would our Reich, our loved ones, our homes, even this world, be?

No, thank $%!$ing God, German's don't think like that. Every man does his job, serves the whole. Every last man has a job to do, even the men who boils the water to keep us from getting the sheits!

Remember men, the Venetian's know I'm here!! I want them to look up and howl, "Ach, it's the goddamn 2nd Austria Army and that Dread Duke “son-of-a-bitch” Arnold ...again!"

We want to get this thing over and get the hell out of here, and get at those purple-pissin' Byzantines!!! The shortest road home is through Constantinople!

We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by showing the enemy we have more guts than they have or ever will have!

There's one great thing you men can say when it's all over and you're home once more. You can thank God that twenty years from now, when you're sitting around the fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the war, you won't have to shift him to the other knee, cough, and say, "I shoveled shit in Prague".

Instead you can proudly shout; "I fought like Lion with that murderous bastard Arnold!!"

The roar of the men washed over Arnold and his retinue like a wave.

The Duke raised his hand, silencing the army.

“A NEW POWER IS RISING AND IT'S VICTORY IS AT HAND MEN.

ON THIS DAY THE LAND WILL BE STAINED WITH THE BLOOD OF VENETIAN'S."

The roaring began again.

"MARCH INTO HELL AND LEAVE NONE ALIVE."

The Duke drew his sword and raised it above his head.

"TO WAR MEN...TO WAR!!!!”

The roaring increased sending shivers down the spine of each one of Arnold retinue arrayed behind him.

Set back from the others Arnold's priest whispered to no one.

“May god save our souls.”

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XNNqc4pdbNA

The first army.

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The second arrives:

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It's over:

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The money is not worth it:

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**Northnovas** · 10-31-2007, 03:32

1326 Budapest Region

Karl Zirn’s camp was a buzz with men and animals moving about. Another battle was at hand and there was a feeling of optimism in the air.

Ingo the Teutonic Knight came into Zirn’s tent where Karl and Peter were reviewing a map. “He has arrived safely to camp from Budapest my lord and is getting refreshed and fitted.”

“Good, you stay with him tonight Ingo!” Karl knew that statement was not necessary but he felt better saying it the apprehension he was feeling was putting a knot in his stomach. “Peter, highlight the plan with Ingo and then Ingo I want you with him the rest of the night.” Ingo nodded in agreement sensing how edgy Karl was getting as the battle was nearing.

Peter stretched out over the map on the table, “ It will be another night battle. The Hungarians will not expect such a quick attack from our last engagement. We will not go for the army nearest to the city but attack the Hungarian General Tibot of Arad who is on the south flank. His defeat may cause the other two armies led by Captains to reconsider their offensive against the city. We only have two regiments of missiles and the cannon. We strike first and must knock out the catapults and push back their archers. The catapults are no match for a cannon but he has many and they can still do damage. A close melee will make them ineffective.” After Peter had finished he looked over at Zirn for approval knowing it was the General’s plan.

“Okay leave me please and get yourselves ready and call the physician in for me!” With that Karl sat heavily on the bench.
************
The young man entered the tent assigned to him and the batsman was polishing the armor set out in the centre of the tent. The armor was ornate and shiny and on the chest was the symbol of the Austrian House engraved into the metal. His hands went over the detail of the design he had only seen something close to this copy. The truly ornate armor of his Uncle Arnold. This replica was his gift from him. The perspiration from his hands was streaking the metal as he touched it. This was all too surreal. The moment he had been waiting for was here. He could not remember the ride from Budapest or anything from the past 24 hours when he received word that he would go into battle with his father.
The batsman sensing the nervousness of young Johann wiped the marks from the armor and excused himself advising he would return shortly to suit him up.
The young Zirn could feel the nausea in his stomach and threw up in a pail that was by the cot. Again his stomach heaved there was nothing; he had eaten in the last 24 hours. The thought of battle was making him ill and thinking what will I do when I get out there? The only real experience is the stories from his uncle his father did not speak much of the battles he had fought. Another dry heave, I won’t make the night he thought.
Since he was there on his knees the only thing he thought to do was pray and so the young man prayed like he had never done before asking protecting from ever Saint, Angel and the Holy Trinity.
*************
The night was not that cold for a late winter. The precipitation was light and the ground was still frozen. It was time to put the plan into action.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The Army had formed outside a small settlement and it was the perfect location for a base. The units were deployed and the open volley from the battery began. There were early successes with catapults getting direct hits. Ingo stuck close to Johann who stuck close to his father. There were no words that the elder Zirn could give his son before battle that was not already instructed to him in his upbringing. These were difficult times.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The first object was met. Only one volley came from a lone catapult. They had been silenced.

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The Austrians had one the initiative and the Zirn committed both Body Guard Units to a flanking action and struck at the enemy Commander. He was captured though his death was announced through the enemy lines and units began to falter.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The battle had been one. A weight had been lifted off both of the Zirn men. Ingo led the younger Zirn on to clean up the stragglers and get his spurs sharpened with the victory.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The battle was won. The older Zirn announced that Johann had proved himself that night and he would be fit to command in the Kaiser’s and Duke’s Army. The cheers went up amongst the men and the celebration continued till morning. Karl was proud but did not celebrate yet. For he knew there was much to be done but it was a proud moment.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The Commander Tibor was released without ransom along with his men.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**OverKnight** · 11-01-2007, 07:21

The Battle of the Elephant, 1326

"I hope the blood of my army has bought us some respite."

The words of the Kaiser cut into Matthias. The man was planning to leave Outremer and yet he had sacrificed many men to relieve Aleppo and weaken the Greeks. And what was Matthias planning to do? Hold a bridge, and wait for an attack that might not come. Yes, it was the wisest course of action, but Matthias doubted St. Maximillian would have agreed. Chancellor von Kassel had once argued against an attack on the Jihad armies near Adana, but Maximillian had insisted on an attack, and he had been right. To hold Outremer he would need to inspire the remaining men, to do that he needed a victory.

Yes, a victory against Nikeforos Argyrus, his former tormentor. Rage filled him, darker motivations than inspiration worked within Matthias. For too long, he had held back vengeance in the name of caution and duty. A nemesis was within reach and a beleaguered Kingdom needed hope, now was the time to strike.

Matthias deployed his men on a rise north of the Orontes. Archers and the cannon were out front, with the infantry behind. The cavalry was massed on the left in column. Nikeforos would likely advance on him, knowing that he had the edge. Matthias counted on it. He had ordered the gunners to focus on the Elephants.

The Elephants advanced along with the Greeks. Trebuchet rounds began raining down near his men. Suddenly, with sharp cracks, the guns mounted on the beasts fired. His men began to fall. The crossbowmen returned fire, but with little effect.

With alarm, Matthias noticed some of the gunners had fallen. If he lost his cannon, the battle was over. Hearing some muttering among his men, Matthias bellowed at them to hold while he prayed to God for aid.

An explosive shell landed among the Elephants, killing some of them, and Matthias's prayer was answered.

The remaining gun Elephants ran amok, turned and crashed into their own lines.

The men of Outremer, discouraged not a moment ago, cheered as the enraged beasts cut a swath through the Greeks. Nikeforos barely escaped being trampled and the trebuchets were silenced for the moment as their crews ran for cover.

Matthias gave his thanks to the Lord. Nikeforos began to move his men back. Matthias wished to pursue, but the mad beasts blocked his path.

The Greeks had withdrawn to hill in their dissarray. Despite their losses, they still outnumbered the Army of Antioch and still had another unit of Elephants. A direct assault would be dangerous. Matthias decided to move to another hilltop where he could shell the Byzantines.

The Greeks manned their Trebuchets again, which had been left in the valley, and began to fire on Matthias. He dispatched the Kwarzimen mercenaries to deal with them.

Nikeforos sent forward his last unit of Elephants, Arquebusiers rode on their backs.

The animals were met with a hail of arrow and cannon fire. These Elephants began to run amok as well.

Matthias ordered his bowmen and cannon to hold their fire. The Elephants would be left to stampede, he had another target in mind for the guns.

Shots barreled through Nikeforos's bodyguard. The Strategos himself was mortally wounded and pinned underneath his horse. The remainder fled.

While a subordinate desperately tried to keep the Greeks organized, the amok Elephants hit their line again.

After the bloody passage of the beasts, Greek archers went forward to skirmish. They were met by the Kwarzimen, returning from the valley.

The Greeks archers all but gone, Matthias advanced his own bowmen to fire on their infantry. Goaded into action, they charged, but were met by their counterparts. Imperial horsemen, including Matthias, swung in from the flanks.

The rout was on. A few Greeks managed to escape, but they had been crushed.

Searching among the dead, he came upon Nikeforos the Mean. He was caught beneath his horse, trying to claw his way out.

Standing over him, Matthias spoke, "It seems the wheel has turned once again Nikeforos."

The Strategos looked up, pain writ across his features, and stopped his efforts to escape.

"You German bastard! I had you, if it wasn't for those damn cannons, you'd be dead."

"Perhaps, though you did use Elephants with cannon yourself. My crossbowmen are finishing them as we speak. Obstinate creatures, even when mad, they have not left the field, unlike your men."

Nikeforos grimaced, "Damn you! We'll get you, you can't be lucky every time. The Empire will crush you!"

Matthias coldly stared down at the man, "Not today Nikeforos. . .as for tomorrow, do not concern yourself. I am glad I found you, I wanted to thank you."

Surprise showed on Nikeforos's face, "What?"

"My world was falling apart when you took me. The Reich I had built up was being torn asunder. I was about to disobey my Kaiser, perhaps even rebel to hold Adana. I had nothing. But you saved me from that. You gave me a new purpose, a new focus. Since I escaped, it has kept me. . .sane."

Matthias drew Iron Faith.

"You gave me the gift of vengeance and the clarity to use it. For that, your death will be clean."

Nikeforos eyes bored into Matthias's good one, "Christ! I should have taken your tongue instead of your. . ."

A stroke of the sword took his head.

Cleaning his blade on the dead man's cloak, Matthias sheathed it, turned and walked away.

There was much left to do.

-----------

A week later the Army of Antioch fell upon another Greek army.

Mostly infantry, they charged to meet the Army, but they were arrow bit and flanked by the cavalry.

They were defeated as well.

**econ21** · 11-02-2007, 14:33

The Destruction of the Byzantine Guard Army, Antioch 1326

“@#$%^&!!! hell!” cursed Elberhard. The decision of Matthias Steffen to stay in Outremer had been a total surprise. How could the Kaiser not have seen it coming, after the affair at Adana? But Elberhard had been so sure Matthias would support his move to return to the homelands and try to restore order to the Reich. With a single depleted army, it seemed inconceivable that Matthias could defend Outremer alone.

Elberhard had been in two minds about trying to relieve Aleppo. His dauntless and chivalrous character urged him on. But Linyeve was surely right: to relieve it would cost more lives than would be saved; and he would need a full army to survive amid the backstabbers home in Europe.

Matthias’s obstinacy changed everything. Clearing out the three Byzantine armies between the ford and Aleppo would considerably reduce the odds against Matthias. To let the Aleppo garrison to be massacred was bad enough; to abandon Matthias to the same fate was too much for the Kaiser to contemplate. Enduring Linyeve’s cold fury, Elberhard prepared his army march on Aleppo.

*****

Strategos Tobromerus Comnenus commanded the Byzantine Guard Army. An elite formation of Varangian Guard, veteran Kataphracts, Byzantine Guard Archers and Vardarioti. The Army had appeared as if out of nowhere to block the Kaiser’s advance on Damascus. Elberhard had hoped to sucker it into attacking across the ford, but it Comnenus had been too wily – merely using his army to block any advance on Aleppo.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

With King Jan’s departure, it was possible that both the iron bridge and the ford defences could be bypassed by an army marching south of the river. This raised the nightmare scenario that Matthias had raised in the Crusader Council of the ford being attacked simultaneously from the west and east. Having already performed exactly such a manoeuvre on the Byzantines to devastating effect, Elberhard was anxious not to leave Comnenus free to return the favour.

Consequently, Elberhard marched the Kaiser’s army across the ford, to confront the Byzantine Guard Army in open battle.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

As Comnenus’s army quickly seized a large hill dominating the battlefield, Elberhard decided to march his army round the hill and approach it from the rear. The hill sloped more gently to the rear and moreover, cutting the Byzantine lines of communication might unnerve their men – making them easier to rout. Consequently, the Kaiser’s army trekked across the hot battlefield, until it reached the line where the Byzantines had first deployed. Then the army pivoted and began to climb the hill from the rear – leading with crossbowmen in loose formation.

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The Germans were climbing the hill from the north east. Elberhard led from the left flank, riding with his elephants to drive the vardarioti up the hill and cut the Byzantines line of retreat towards Aleppo. As the German crossbowmen duelled with the Byzantine Guard archers, he did not see a regiment of Byzantine lancers march on his right flank.

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Veteran warrior Sir Charles de Villiers had been given command of the German right and rushed spearmen to counter the lancers. However, Strategos Comnenus sensed a vulnerability and rushed to reinforce the Byzantine attack.

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Far away on the German left, approaching the summit of the hill, Elberhard could see the flag of the enemy general marching towards his right flank. Elberhard knew that killing the enemy general was crucial to undermining the otherwise excellent morale of the Byzantine Guard Army and so charged his escort down the hill, hoping to engage Comnenus.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

With the Kaiser’s departure, his troop of elephants remained behind to anchor the German left flank. They had performed brilliantly at driving back the Turkopoles and Vardariotai on the Byzantine right flank. But now they came under attack from the foot archers on the summit of the hill who used fire arrows in an attempt to panic the beasts. To the dismay of the Germans, the tactic worked and the elephants began to run amok.

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Mobbed by German spearmen and then flanked by the Kaiser’s escort, Strategos Comnenus and his bodyguard were brought down. However, Elberhard’s euphoria was diminished when he learnt the fate of his elephants.

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The battle now entered its decisive phase. The German crossbowmen and cannon had been getting the better of the exchange of fire with the Byzantine archers on the hill – in part, because Elberhard had recklessly committed his own escort to harassing the enemy skirmishers. However, whoever was left in command of the Byzantine Guard Army soon seemed to tire of the uneven contest and as a great mass, the lines of Varangian Guard and Kataphractoi began to surge off the summit of the hill and advance down towards the German battleline.

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The Germans struggled to hold back the sheer weight of the massed regiments of Varangian Guard and Kataphractoi pressing down on them. The spearmen who formed the bulk of the first line were no match for the elite Byzantine troops. Elberhard’s only advantage was on his left, where his escort and a regiment of Teutons were free to strike at the rear and flank of the now committed enemy army.

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On the right, however, the situation was more desperate. Kataphractoi and Vardariotai threatened to turn the German flank. The regiment of Kwazarimans was thrown into to try to stop them, but the mercenaries were outclassed and all but wiped out. Only some valiant armoured sergeants, bolstered by the Great Cross, were left holding the right flank.

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As the Kaiser’s escort rampaged among the archers at the Byzantine rear and the Teutons led the turning of the enemy right, the morale of the Guard Army collapsed. The Byzantine archery fire from the summit of the hill and the brief but bitter assault of their heavy troops had exacted a large toll on the Kaiser’s army. A third of its strength had been lost, although Elberhard himself grieved most for the death of his beloved Arnolds. Perhaps more significant, the battle left the Kaiser will almost no heavy cavalry except the men of his own escort.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

**econ21** · 11-02-2007, 14:41

The Relief of Aleppo, 1326

The battered army of the Kaiser pressed on towards Aleppo. They had been informed that the two Byzantine armies besieging the citadel would be working close together and that it would not be possible to attack them at night. Consequently, Elberhard struck the smaller one at day. To his surprise, the larger besieging force did not come to the aid of the smaller army.

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The battle was not marked by any tactical subtlety and cost Elberhard a further 150 men.

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*****

The Kaiser’s army was near exhaustion by the time it reached Aleppo. There a full, well-balanced Byzantine army was preparing to storm the citadel.

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Elberhard sent word to the garrison to prepare to sally, hoping to fix the attention of their besiegers on the citadel rather than the army coming to relieve it.

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As usual, the Kaiser led with his crossbowmen in loose order and used his cannon to snipe at the main concentration of enemy heavy troops. The Byzantines sent their Vardariotai and then their foot archers to duel with the Germans.

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Elberhard used his surviving heavy cavalry – his own escort – to run down the enemy foot archers.

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Amid the slaughter, it seemed to Elberhard as if the sky became red and everything he saw on the battlefield became tinged with an unearthly pink hue. [OOC: My computer started to overheat and the colour went whacky – the screenshots were unaffected.] It was as if the Kaiser had entered a ethereal dimension, where the dust, the noise and the grime of battle disappeared making the lethal combat appear unreal and dreamlike. In truth, it was less a battle and more a slaughter. Exhausted and dehydrated, Elberhard’s trance like state insulated him from the reality of the carnage.

The battle turned decisively in the Germans’ favour when the enemy general – a Vardariotai captain – was shot down during the missile duel.

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As before, with the Guard Army, the loss of their general fatally weakened the fighting spirit of the Byzantines. Even when their heavy regiments attacked the German line, they quickly lost heart and were repulsed.

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Yet the sheer number of Byzantines on the field denied the Germans a quick victory. Elberhard was reluctant to commit his already mauled army to another massive melee. Instead, he continued cutting at the enemy with his archers and cavalry, reducing it as if slicing a salami – Byzantine regiment by Byzantine regiment.

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Once the killing finally stopped, Elberhard entered Aleppo, to be feted by its beleaguered defenders.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Afterwards, he sat down and added up his losses. He had set out with a grand army of 1472 to rescue 134 men, trapped in Aleppo. Over the course of three battles, he had lost 694 men – almost half of his army. Moreover, these casualties included almost all his heavy cavalry and his regiment of elephants. The enemy had lost 3417 men – almost five times what the Reich had suffered.

“Will it be enough to save Matthias and Outremer?” Elberhard asked his retinue.

Sir Charles de Villiers shrugged: “We have at least given him a fighting chance, Sire. I will contact my people and arrange for English crusader knights to take over the defence of Aleppo.”

Elberhard nodded and fell back into a chair exhausted, his mind wandering south towards Jersualem where the young Count von Kassel was marching to challenge the Pontiff.

**econ21** · 11-03-2007, 01:02

This is a joint story written by Mini Econ and econ21.

Jerusalem, 1326

Something inside me died that year. It was a heroic victory. The day the Reich’s youngest general made the greatest contribution to its salvation. But it cost me a part of my soul.

I walked into the room. I should have known something terrible was about to go down. But I was young and I did not know the old could be so cruel. They were both sitting there like two aged eastern holy men - my tutor, Siegfried, and the Kaiser’s mentor, Niklas Gruber.

“Sit down, young man.” Niklas had said, unable to hide a slight tell of condescension in his speech.

They gave me some tea. The @#$%^&!!!s - they know I hate tea. And then Niklas laid it on me. For the good of the Reich. We must be brought back into the bosom of the church. The religious war would heal if the Pope embraced us again. Riots would stop. Everything would be cool. Except for me. I would have to wield the knife. I would be the one who could not sleep at night.

Siegfried said nothing, just watched me with a saintly expression, like a fat cat watching a mouse in a trap.

I said I would do it. But not for them. Not for the Reich. I would do it because it was war. Because no one marches an army to my door and tries to kill me twice, then expects to be able to do it a third time. Because I had a duty to Acre. I might be leaving. With my uncle’s disappearance, I might be the Kaiser’s new crutch. I might have to carry him back home. Help protect him from the usurpers and the powerful Dukes. But I would not leave my people to be besieged and sacked by a Papal army. I would not.

I said I would do it. But I did not know what I would have to do. If I had known that, maybe I would never have left that room.

*****

I won’t say much about the battle. I don’t need to paint you a picture. It should have been a perfect day. They say it was a heroic victory. And in truth, everything went better than we could have hoped. My army fought with skill and was rewarded by a good helping of luck. We utterly destroyed the Papal army with little loss. Our victory was so complete, we marched into Jerusalem unopposed. There were no enemy soldiers left. They all were dead or imprisoned on the battlefield outside.

Everything went perfectly. Except that he wasn’t dead. They told me he was dead. The Teutons swore they had cut him down at the height of the battle. But then the camp followers found him. The Pope was alive. Bruised and battered, but very much alive. And even the camp followers dared not kill him. I mean, who would dare do that?

I could not do it. To execute a helpless prisoner was against everything I believed in. Everything I still believe in. And this was not just any prisoner - this was the Holy Father. I did not sleep that night. I lay, wrestling my blankets, wrestling my conscience.

But the logic was inescapable. If I allowed the Pope to leave, he would muster his remaining armies in Outremer and come back at me a third time. Perhaps even the other Catholic factions would send men to Jerusalem to aid him. It was in my power to bring peace to at least to this southern part of Outremer. To allow us once again to resume our mission to protect the Church. And there it was - to protect the Church, I had first to kill it.

*****

“Bring him to me.” I said in the morning.

He stood before me, in his ornate armour - serene, defiant.

“Father, I humbly make the same request to you as I did to your soldiers who I captured when you twice tried to storm Acre. Abandon this pointless conflict. Stop these attacks on me. Let us be friends. Let the Church and the Reich be together again…”

“The Reich is excommunicated.” interrupted the Pontiff firmly. “She is harlot, a whore who services heretics, assassins, backstabbers, pirates and butchers. The Church cannot commune with such a degenerate and diseased thing.”

“Father, I ask you again - join with us. There are men in the Reich of piety and chivalry. You met my uncle; you helped my uncle find passage to Europe. He is not alone - there are others, Karl Zirn, the Kaiser himself.”

“Your list is rather short.” snorted the Pontiff. “I have told you my decision. Now release me, as you released those of my men who refused to join you outside Acre.”

I looked at Pope Lanbertus with pity. He was young for a Pope - 36 - although no doubt he thought I just a callow youth. He had no idea of the black thoughts lurking in my mind. While they threatened to overpower me, they were invisible to him.

“Father, I am so sorry we could not come to an understanding.” I said flatly. We stood up. I kissed his hand. He left. I gave the order. Something inside of me died that year.

*****

The story in pictures

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**Cecil XIX** · 11-05-2007, 21:15

“And so, here I am again.”

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Edmund Becker had arrived in Breslau to find the Polish army sitting on a hill.

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He quickly went to the front of the army for a pre-battle address.

“Men! Today we march as Bohemians for the first time! Today is the day we demonstrate that the County of Bohemia can stand and fight on it’s own two feet! Our opponents are the Poles, who have their eyes set on Breslau and beyond! Are we going to let them go any further, when they are already a stone’s throw away from attacking our wives and children?”

A rousing ‘No!’ echoed through the army.

“That’s right! We may be Bohemians, but we are also part of the Reich. If our neighbors should fall, that puts us in danger! That is why we will crush this army and return home, safe in the knowledge that the enemy is years away!”

A cheer rang went out.

“What’s more, I see the enemy is encamped upon a hill in front of us, with the intent to stand their ground and fight. This is a mistake on their part, for it is impossible for the Reich to be defeated in a man-to-man engagement! The proud Bohemian militia will sweep them aside! I say militia, but I imagine that there are more than a few Poles who think they are facing an army of Armored Sergeants, so well equipped are you!”

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“Now my brothers, look to your left!” Becker gestured to the reinforcements.

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“Captain Godwine and the men of Breslau are just as eager to drive these Poles out! So then, forward! Mark your target where it counts!”

With a start, the Army of Bohemia began to march. Becker’s speech had caused the Breslau garrison to become quite a bit ahead of them, just as he had planned.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Becker felt a twinge of guilt at letting the Franconians take the brunt of the artillery fire, and quickly rationalized it away. Breslau was still better off for his presence, it was better for the outcome of the battle if the garrison took the brunt of it, and he had a duty to his own men first anyway. He felt a little better as time went on, for the garrison not only forced the artillerists to abandon their machines but managed to engage the Pole’s front line before falling back and regrouping.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Captain Godwine and his men were still in fighting shape by the time the Bohemians had arrived, and because of their actions Becker’s men were able to get quite close before being subjected to a hail of arrows and bolts.

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Though he couldn’t see it, Becker was informed that Godwine was showing remarkable ability, having gotten around behind and engaging one of their depleted units. The Poles were too busy concentrating on the Bohemian line before them to justify stopping Godwine from slaughtering a small unit of handgunners.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Finally, the Bohemians made contact with the Poles. Becker was quick to exploit his numerical superiority and was able to flank the poles while keeping a few regiments of militia in reserve. For the moment he held his non-militia forces back as well, hoping to conserve that which could not be replenished.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Meanwhile, Captain Godwine has using his forces to keep the Poles on Becker’s left occupied.

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Becker had planned to keep his cavalry in reserve, ready to strike the moment the Polish Captain was visible. But Ziemowit was also proving himself astute, and was staying close to his own forces.

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Alas, the Bohemian line started to falter, and Becker was forced to send in his reserves while he rallied his men that were trying to flee.

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Fortunately the Militia were able to prove themselves, and the Polish Captain’s death signaled the end of the battle.

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***

“Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

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Having reviewed the condition of his army, Becker was pleased. As their first real test, it was good to know they could decisively prevail against an equal force. He moved on the list of prisoners. They counted three hundred and ten men, worth an estimated two thousand, nine hundred and forty-two florins.

Becker sighed. It was a most unpleasant decision. And he still remembered Ludwig’s words in Bran from so many years ago. But this was different. The Poles were invaders, and the times were extremely dangerous. Besides… He was not Sigismund. He decided the prisoners would be ransomed.

The Poles, however, had other ideas. The news hit Becker harder than he expected. Something about it just seemed fundamentally… wrong. He felt responsible. He quickly composed himself, and spoke.

“Karl, contact Breslau. Tell them I wish to fund the repairs of their church.”

**Ignoramus** · 11-10-2007, 05:53

*placeholder*

**econ21** · 11-10-2007, 12:20

The road to Antioch, 1328

Elberhard stared at the letters from Duke Arnold and Count Jan von Hamburg in disbelief. He rubbed his head, as if hoping to wake himself from a bad dream.

Linyeve sat Sphinx like, watching the Kaiser. It was almost as if she enjoyed seeing him squirm. Elberhard rose heavily, glad to leave the correspondence on his desk and turn to battle.

He looked at Kachig, the mercenary Captain, who was waiting to report.

"Captain Modestos and his regiment of Byzantine infantry has been located on the road to Adana. Beyond that lies Captain Theotokios and his siege train. They will be easy prey for your army, Sire."

Elberhard nodded, he still felt uneasy at the idea of leaving Outremer. Whether his desire to give battle was really to make life easier for Matthias and the men left behind, or simply a manifestation of his own reluctance to leave, he was not sure.

"Shall I get the army on the road?" inquired Jan the Teuton.

"Nah, Modestos will do a runner if he spies a thousand Germans marching on him. My escort will deal with him. Let the army have a good breakfast, then follow me on the road to Adana. We'll reunite before attacking the siege train."

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Jan saluted and exited, as Elberhard's pages began to fasten on his full plate armour.

*****

When Elberhard found Captain Modestos and his lone regiment of Byzantine infantry camped out on a hill, he circled around them - like a mongoose circling a snake. Maneouvring his escort onto the hill, he launched a charge against the unfortunate enemy. Poor Captain Modestos was skewered on impact and the enemy morale was shattered.

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The swift victory gave Elberhard an idea. He spoke to Sir Paul Mulner, his shieldbearer: "Did you see that - how that poor @#$%^&!!!ing idiot Modestos stood in the path of our charge?"

Paul grunted: "Ja, lucky for us. Not lucky for Modestos."

Elberhard smiled, but spoke intently: "Yeah, sure. But next time ... maybe next time, we should make sure luck has less to do with it?"

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The shieldbearer sighed inwardly - the Kaiser's predilection for using his own escort as the spearhead of his attacks mortified the knight. Sometimes it seemed as if the careworn Kaiser had a deathwish. Elberhard sensed Paul's unease and thumped him on the shoulder:

"Cheer up, you @#$%^&!!!er - the sooner we kill their generals, the quicker we will have them on the run. Now, let's find that siege train."

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