Battle reports thread - King of the Romans PBM

[econ21]

Venice, 1242


“If we strike at night, we can quickly overwhelm the bridge before the garrison of Venice can intervene.” urged Kachig.

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Elberhard scratched his head. “Yeah, right. But where does that leave us? The garrison of Venice is over 1400 men strong. Quite frankly, I don’t fancy taking them on in a siege assault. I @#$%^&!!!ing hate siege assaults.”

In the past, the Kaiser had had some success storming cities in Outremer but they were lightly defended. What weighed on Elberhard’s mind was the report of the bloody slaughter than Dieter von Kassel had endured to take Palermo from a force only half as large as that garrisoning Venice.

“There’s no hurry.” said Elberhard. “Let’s advance on the bridge slowly - give the Byzantine picquets time to rouse the garrison. I aim to storm the bridge before reinforcements arrive and then wreck the garrison when it deploys in the field after we are across.”

The room fell silent as the men considered what was involved in storming the bridge. Then after a while, Elberhard blurted out. “@#$%^&!!! it! I @#$%^&!!!ing hate bridge battles.”

*****

General Volkanos, survivor of a previous battle with the Kaiser, deployed wisely at the bridge. His two surviving regiments of mercenary crossbowmen stood at the exit of the bridge - ready to shoot down Germans attempting a crossing, backed by the few infantry and cavalry that had escaped the earlier battle.

Elberhard looked at the sound enemy deployment with dismay and then pronounced. “There’s nothing for it, lads. We have to get across. Send one regiment of Imperial knights on foot to leg it there. My escort will back them up.”

Kachig and Sir Charles de Villiers exchanged a sceptical glance.

“What?” demanded Elberhard: “You two got any better ideas?”

The two men looked down. “I @#$%^&!!!ing thought not! Now, let’s haul ass!”

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Less a battle plan and more an act of desperation…

As Elberhard raced across the bridge, he saw the Byzantines start to cross from their end.

“All @#$%^&!!!ing right!” roared Elberhard to his escort. “They are coming to us. Let’s get this thing on!”

The fighting was brutal. Crossbowmen from both sides could fire into the melee on the bridge, but they risked hitting friend as much as foe. Worried about shooting down their own Kaiser, the pavise crossbowmen halted fire of their own volition.

“Keep firing, God damn it! Keep firing!” swore Kachig.

Neither side appeared to get an advantage in the fighting, with the troops being packed too thick for the superior fighting qualities of the Germans to tell

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Elberhard found himself pressed against a mass of Byzantine infantry.

The enemy fought much more doggedly and endured far longer than Elberhard expected and his eyes kept looking up to track the large garrison from Venice which was fast approaching the bridge. As the reinforcements came within range of the bridge, Elberhard realised that his plan to take the bridge by a coup de main hand failed. He now had to storm a bridge in the face of the opposition of nearly two thousand Byzantine soldiers.

“Sire, we should pull back now!” urged Maina, his shieldbearer.

Elberhard doggedly resisted the call to retreat. Strategos Volkanos had now led his escort into the fighting on the bridge and Elberhard was determined to stay to try to bring him down. This time, his attempt to slay the enemy general failed and the Kaiser was eventually forced to disengage - accompanied only by Maina and one other survivor of his retinue.

As they fled the bridge, the Kaiser hoped he could turn the tables by a feigned retreat. However, the Byzantines were too disciplined. With the Germans retreating across the bridge, the Byzantines retired to their side out of crossbow range. And they could not be lured back across the bridge - even when the Kaiser callously sent his regiment of spear militia to charge unsupported across the bridge. The Greeks wisely held position.

The battle began to turn into a stalemate, with a few pavise crossbowmen setting up on the bridge and entering into a long range duel with the Trebizond archers and mercenary crossbowmen of the enemy army.

As the Imperial army began to run low on ammunition, Elberhard knew he had to act or face an ignominious defeat.

“Send the infantry across.”

“Which regiments?” inquired Sir Charles de Villiers.

“All of them. It’s all or nothing. We fight our way across that bridge or we lose this battle. Do it!”

Sir Charles bowed his head: “Perhaps you should give a speech to the men - to urge them on.”

Elberhard looked at the Englishman with disdain for a moment, and then nodded with a resigned smile.

When the dismounted Imperial knights were formed, Elberhard spoke to them with a flat, solemn voice.

“Imperial Knights of Germany! You came to me of your own accord. I did not ask you to come. You came to me to fulfil an oath - to rescue the Reich from the cataclysm that has befallen it. And that oath does you honour.

You came to me and I have brought you to this bridge. This bridge is the gateway to Venice. Venice - a great city mercilessly exterminated by the Greeks. Just as they have mercilessly exterminated Milan, Antioch, Bologna and Rome.

You have just seen me try to take that bridge. And fail. I have failed to take the bridge by speed and surprise. I have failed to take it by guile and ruthlessness. There remains only blood and honour.

You came to me when I did not ask. But now I have something to ask of you. I ask you take that bridge - to take back Venice.

Avenge the women and children who died screaming at the hands of the men that stand over that bridge! Strike the enemy down with a righteous fury!

For justice, for vengeance, for God and the Reich - attack!”

In a great undisciplined mass, the dismounted Imperial knights charged across the bridge. They were met at the exit by the Byzantine garrison of Venice, similarly crowded together.

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Elberhard commits all his infantry to try to take the bridge.



The scrummage at its height.

For a while, Elberhard feared that he may just have sent his infantry to its doom. Against superior numbers, the battle at the exit to the bridge resembled a grotesque sausage making machine, with men pushed through hacking blades at the exit to the bridge and left lying ruined on the ground.

But the dismounted Imperial knights gave at least as well as they received and the battle resolved into a morale contest. Choked with fury and with Elberhard on the bridge urging them forward, the German will proved the stronger. As the Byzantines began to waver, the Kaiser signalled for the cavalry to be brought onto the bridge. The mounted knights were thus able to erupt out of the bridge exit as the Byzantine infantry started to rout.

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The German mounted knights lead the breakout from the bridge, but still have the Byzantine horse to contend with…



…but, supported by infantry, the Germans bring down even the fearsome kataphractoi.



Having prudently kept out of the main melee for the bridge exit, Elberhard recklessly throws himself into the breakout. With only his shieldbearer, Maina, to accompany him, he routes a score of Byzantine Lancers.

*****

After the battle, the Kaiser occupied Venice and tried to ransom his prisoners, but the ransom was cruelly rejected.

As he lay with Linyeve that evening, Elberhard reflected on his reconquest:

“You would not believe it. Venice is an empty shell. It has nothing - almost no buildings. The walls are in disrepair, the market does not meet … even the @#$%^&!!!ing brothel is damaged.”

Linyeve’s ears perked up: “Oh, don’t worry about that last one. I have given orders that the brothel is to be torn down.”

“What?!!!”

“What yourself?! Do you think I would trust you in a city with a brothel. Besides which, I think Duke Arnold needs the money. And I heard he has some Russian floozy to occupy him with anyway.”

Elberhard sulked for a while. Then he piped up: “Do you know, some of the men are calling me Elberhard the Mighty? Like they used to call my dear brother Hans. They are saying I am a legendary commander!”

Linyeve cast him a withering glance: “I see - you are now almost as legendary a commander as Duke Arnold and Fritz von Kastilien then?”

Elberhard sulked again.

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The butcher’s bill.

[Northnovas]

Zagreb Region 1342

The armies had divided and Johann was on his way to Vienna with some knight and archers. It wasn’t much but the whole army could not reach the city in time to meet the Hungarian army at the gates. Johann thought of how much his father loved his guns and knew they would slow the army down. He was ordered north much to his disappointment and his father would take on the the Hungarian force threaten Zagreb. Johann was feeling unappreciated in his current role.

Karl had located the enemy camp and was preparing for a night attack. It was a tactic from the Outremer that he had adapted to so well since returning to Europe. The Hungarians were well situated along the tree line. He had only guessed at their numbers and tried to leave an equal amount before sending the rest to north to Vienna.

Nightfall came and the troops were ordered into position.

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The Hungarians remained where they were last spotted and concealed amongst the trees.

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The hour had come and Karl ordered the guns to open fire on the centre formation.

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The roar of the guns went on for 45 minutes and Karl could feel the adrenalin beginning to flow. He loved those guns. It had been awhile but the old bones did not mind sitting on the horse and he could fell the vitality arising in his body. Just then a messenger arrived.
“My lord, the enemy Captain is down from our cannon fire”
“Excellent, Peter have the guns direct the fire towards the flanks, move them one at a time to keep fire upon them” Karl ordered. Peter was off with out a word. Karl was surprised that the Hungarians had remained in the position and were not wavering at the loss of their commander.

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Then the shout came the enemy was surging forward.

The Feudal Knight Captain was new and this was his first command. He was responsible for the left flank and he knew that the enemy had missile cavalry on both of its flanks and he was outnumbered 2 to 1. The guns roared and exploded on the enemy but he could not identify the Magyar Calvary.

FIM, FIM, FIM, FIM. Incoming fire shouted one of the men. The Knights began falling off their horses some screaming others made no sound. FIM, FIM, FIM, more arrows coming in. The Captain froze he could not process what was happening. “Where is the enemy?” He could see the enemy foot soldiers hitting the centre line. The Knights remained the numbers dwindling. FIM, FIM, FIM
“CCHHArge!” the Captain tried to yell as the arrow smashed through his open visor and he fell to the ground. The remaining Knights surged forward into the darkness. FIM, FIM, FIM

Karl was assessing the surge forward and then he saw the enemy veering toward his right flank and the exposed gun crew. It had been awhile but the words came out and off he went “CHARGE!” his bodyguards following behind. Karl crashed into the Hungarian Dismounted Knights and Magyar Horsemen.

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The Austrian line held and the spearmen lunched forward the enemy began to flee. Karl momentarily stopped and assessed the field where are my Knights? Not knowing their fate Karl charged forward and pursued the fleeing enemy. He seemed to have gained his youth and felt exuberant at full gallop. He could not stop himself he would not have gone this far but he was enjoying himself chasing the stragglers down till they had all fled deep into the forest.

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The battle was over and a victory achieved.

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The prisoners were rounded up the exhaustion had returned. He felt older then he had ever felt. There was fine ransom to be paid for the prisoners but that was not in his character no matter how badly the florins were needed. They were set free.

The old man had gained another accolade from his men.

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It was time to head north and to Vienna.

[Ramses II CP]

Near the walls of Hamburg, 1342.

'M'lord the moment we've been waiting for has arrived. I thought you would want to watch.' The weary Albanian shuffled his feet and gazed at the ground while speaking to Fritz von Kastilien. As well he might, Fritz had been ruthless in driving his men to reach the siege works, and then upon their arrival had set a close guard and given the men a watchful rest period. Now the scout was forced by Fritz's own order to interrupt his general's council with the captains of the army.

For once, however, Fritz appeared pleased, if briefly, and dismissed his captains with only a few final words. 'The same formation will be fine Robert, the flag men assure me that the garrison will sally when called and meet us in the field, but even if they don't the crossbowmen will have to hold the line. Make sure those Honor Guard banners are visible tied to the stake tips! Hans, you know what to do, make every charge count.'

'Now, take me to your vantage point, and be quick!' An imperious gesture sent the scout racing for his horse, Fritz right on his heels. The men rode out in haste and soon came to a small rock outcropping which provided a narrow look at the distant siegeworks north-east of Hamburg. Unbeknownst to the besiegers, who were watching an arranged distraction on the walls at Hamburg, a hundred and fifty badly treated Danes were crawling through the deepening snow to try to reach their position. Some of them were impossibly far behind the lead group, and more than a few had ceased moving entirely, but the front runners would soon be impossible for the siege army's scouts to miss.

Scarce moments after Fritz's arrival a stirring was visible in the Danish camp as a small group of Huscarls mounted up in response to some signal and rode into the snow field. As they reached the site of the first crawling ruin of a man several of the Danes drew up early, and after the shock passed half of them bent double in their saddles and puked violently into the snow. Fritz rubbed his hands together briskly, whether in response to the sickness of the Danes or simply to keep them warm the Albanian could not know, but whatever the cause the cavalryman shivered and thought back on what his general had ordered done with the prisoners when word came of the refusal to pay ransom.

At that time Fritz had seemingly taken the news calmly, standing and departing his tent in the camp near Hamburg with his arm almost jovially thrown around the messenger boy. Striding outside Fritz pulled the man along to the field where the battered Danish prisoners were kept. At a single gesture from their commander the German infantrymen and crossbowmen leapt to their feet and began pulling the Danes apart into groups. These valiant men, mighty veterans of the Danish wars, gave no resistance, perhaps thinking they had been ransomed, until it was too late. When they had been scattered into small groups and held hopelessly surrounded, Fritz's soldiers began the bloodletting. First they cut off the prisoner's fingers, all of them, with short chopping motions of their daggers. Next, as they lay writhing in pain, the Danes were hamstrung in both legs, and finally a cloth was tied around their mouths and a line formed to load them roughly into wagons.

Then Fritz had turned to the boy and spoke, 'You will carry no word back to your man Inge at Hamburg. He'll hear soon enough. You will instead ride north for Arhus as hard as you can. You will never return to German lands. Tell your King and every man you pass on the road that I am coming. Tell him I will ride through **** itself to find him.'

'And tell him if he ever wants to see his soldiers again, he'll have to start paying or stop sending them against me.'

And that was how over a hundred crippled Danes came to be crawling through the snow towards Hamburg. It was well that these remnants of men were the hardy veterans of the Danish Honor Guards, else none of them might have survived to be seen. As it was there were not many still crawling, and the Huscarls could only bring themselves to carry back the most lively looking in the group of frontrunners. Gruesome cries could be heard to echo up the field towards the rocky outcrop when the Huscarls slung that lucky survivor over a horse's back and rode away back to their camp.

A small, grim smile crept momentarily over Fritz's face before he stood, clapped the Albanian on the back, and walked quickly back to his horse. 'Keep a watch and bring word when they form up. We'll be ready. Well done!'

Riding back to the lines Fritz's headache had departed fully for the first time in weeks. This was a battle in which he'd have the advantage no matter the numbers, no matter the experience of the men. Either the Danes would fight with berserker fury and break sharply, like a firm, dry stick, or they'd fight with fear and flee at the first taste of the lance. No matter which was the case every one of them would be dragged down and destroyed.

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There was little infantry remaining in Fritz's army, but it would surely be enough to hold until the arrival of the reinforcements from Hamburg. Those men should be sallying to join him already, and would approach from the rear after departing the north gate of the city.



Han's orders were different this time. His intent was to terrorize the Danes rather than scatter them, to make them fear the unpredictable coming of the Teutons, and so he circled his men around to the rear of the Danish formation before striking home as the Albanians chased away a small contingent of mounted crossbowmen.



Inge drove his men on, demanding that they disregard the harassing attacks of the Teutons. Every brutal strike left dozens of corpses piled in the snow.



Inevitably the Danes started to peer over their shoulders while marching, leading to chaos in the lines and a slow, disorderly advance.



Seeing this, Fritz sent in the Merchant cavalry militia from Hamburg with the captain of the garrison at their head directly against the spearhead of the Danish army. They crashed through a company of crossbowmen who were desperately on watch against a Teuton attack against a their 'rear.'



Inge now struggled to organize his cavalry to defend the infantry. Seeing this, Hans switched sides and struck the Danes' left rear flank hard.



He paid for it when, while pulling back, his Teutons were hit by a charge from the Danish mounted Huscarls. Those men had no heart for this fight, however, and routed almost immediately.



Alas, while Hans was dealing with the enemy Huscarls one of his companies of Teutons bogged down during a charge and was hit with a volley from the Danish handgunners. Their horses reared in terror and began carrying them from the field, the riders unwilling to flee but unable to halt the flight. (Okay, WTH! There were only 4 handgunners remaining. This was an odd rout, and these men didn't recover their morale either, they were all captured or fled.)



Seeing his enemy in disarray Inge led his guardsmen on the attack! Fritz, watching from a nearby wood, saw the Danish general commit himself to battle and rode forth to aid Hans and the Teutons.



While struggling to find Inge in the crush, Fritz caught sight of the enemy's Chivalric Knights charging to join the battle. %&$^, thought Fritz, just when I was getting my blood up! Quickly he turned his guardsmen and pulled the Danish knights into a tail chase to prevent them reinforcing their commander.



Riding back towards his infantry, Fritz caught sight of the first clash of the lines. The Hamburg militia had arrived in plenty of time, and set their lines well supported by a fresh company of merchant cavalry. If nothing was done, the experienced Danish infantry (3x bronze mostly) would eventually overwhelm them. Shouting as he rode by, with Chivalric Knights still in pursuit, Fritz made it clear that he intended the fresh merchant cavalry to line up and charge cleanly into the rear of the Danish companies one by one until they routed.



Meanwhile Inge Henriksson had exhibited unexpected good sense and withdrawn from the fighting with the Teutons, alive but with a gutted bodyguard unit. Spotting a man in full plate Inge had no doubt taken him for the German general, but in fact it was only the captain of the Hamburg garrison.



The Danes courageously charged the fifty merchant cavalrymen with their seven guardsmen, seeking to behead the German army, pursued by the dozens of remaining Teutonic Knights. Only Inge himself would survive to assail and ultimately kill Captain Hugo.



At the line, however, the courage of the Danes had failed. With their general nowhere in sight, with their archers and crossbowmen slaughtered behind them, and with the unceasing charges of the fresh merchant cavalry militia against their rear the powerful Danish soldiers broke and attempted to flee the field. Perhaps their will was broken by the rumor which had swept through their camp of the fate of the Honor Guard army holding the bridge to their west, or perhaps they were simply outmatched. Very few would survive.



Inge Henriksson was not among the survivors, as the Teutons caught him and cut him down just as his valiant efforts routed the reduced company of merchant cavalry militia who were shocked by the death of their captain.



Fritz reached the safety of his lines moments after the general rout began, and his Chivalric Knight pursuers became caught up in it. Forced to choose between riding down their own to continue the pursuit or fleeing as well, they turned tail and ran.



In the end a slow, battered company of Obudshaer were all that still held their courage, marching bravely forward until a crushing Teutonic Knight charge caught them out of formation while passing a tree and butchered them to a man.



Back at the infantry line Fritz shook his head while watching the pursuit. Once again his men had done little in the battle, which had been won by the power of his wit rather than the might of his swordarm. Ah well, thought Fritz, now what in the name of God am I going to do with all these prisoners?

Ransom would've been quite nice, but it is refused:

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Fritz gets a reputation:

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[Zim]

Andreas raced to Antioch as soon as he got the message from Viceroy Matthias. Apparently the Greeks had moved their major armies away from Antioch, to the east. Whether it was cowardice in the face of the Viceroy's victory, or if they had not yet received news of the battle and assumed their man had won, making them needed more against the Turks, Andreas did not know. Whatever the reason, they had left the city in the hands of a single unit of Vardaratoi, although an elite one.

Since the news of a large army marching north might bring the Greeks back before he could reach Antioch, Andreas decided to take only a small force, including his bodyguard, a slightly depleted unit of spearmen, and the cannons needed to takeou he city walls. It was a risky move but a needed one, and Andreas was driven to it partly by guilt over not contributing to Outremer's defense to the extent he ad wanted. He was able to reach Antioch before any Greek scouts spotted his force, and assaulted it immediately.

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The cannon crews, experienced from their battles alongside Matthias, took down several sections of the wall in minutes.

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Oddly, the Byzantine cavalry did not have the tower walls manned to shoot at Andreas' men, and did not come to block entry into the city. Perhaps the Greek captain felt that with only one unit of men and several breeches in the wall, trying to plug one would only result in his being surrounded, or worse yet in cannon bombardments of hs position. Encouraged, Andreas ordered his spearmen to aim for the leftmost breech and his own bodyguard into the rightmost one.

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His men's entry into the city seemed to jolt the Greeks from their stupor, and they came forward to shoot at the German spearmen. Andreas ordered he spearmen to hold their position. The Vardaratoi had stopped next to an open street on one side, and he hoped to take his guard around and strike them from two spots.

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Although his spearmen took some losses from the expert horsearchers, Andreas' plan worked. Andreas' guard slammed into the flank of the Greeks, splitting their forces in two. This was the signal for the spearmen to charge, and half the Greek forces were taken out in detail, including the enemy captain.

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Their captain defeated, the Greeks were allowd to surrender, and Andreas occupied the town peacefully. Andreas was treated to throngs of rejoicing citizens. It would seem that the Greek extermination of the great city some years earlier had increased support for the Reich. The local merchants event donated over 1,000 florins from their coffers to help repair the damaged buildings in the town. It would take time to repair the city, and rebuild the old church, but in regaining its capital Outremer had finally begun to go on the offensive.

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[deguerra]

Bruges, 1342

Heinrich strode into the chamber, tentatively feeling a bloody scar on his left cheek.

“Really, Ludwig, next time you can make lewd suggestions to arrogant French princesses yourself. In the unlikely event that that…Guillemette snob…ever finds a husband, may God have mercy on his soul. And anyway, I am paid to fight, not as a diplomat!”

Ludwig smiled up at his friend from the desk at which he had been sitting. Heinrich noticed that the desk was empty. Ludwig had an annoying tendency to forego planning for thought and prayer at pivotal moments.

“We are needed at the walls, Heinrich. Baldwin looks like he is about to attack from the South.”

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At the walls

“What in the Lords name is he doing, Heinrich? He’s sending those catapults out undefended? Does he expect me to sit here waiting for him to pointlessly smash my walls down while I do nothing? Saddle up!”

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Having slaughtered the catapult crew, Ludwig calls out to his men

“That’s enough, there’s not enough of them to man these catapults now! Back to the walls! And where in Gods name are those Frenchies heading now?!?”

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“I think, Ludwig, that they might have finally discovered our walls are already breached in the East, from the fine work Jan von der Pfalz and those English did several years ago”

“And so they’re going to give me a beautiful column I can just charge into? Men, to the Trebuchet crew! And then kill those Scots guards!”

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Meanwhile, Thomas Bogaard, the civilian mayor of Bruges, and commander of the City Watch has the Town Guard lining the Square, ready for anything, which is just as well, because the first French Lancers are about to reach them.

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The ensuing melee goes decidedly badly for France. The first Lancers to hit the Flemish pikes break and run almost immediately, under crossbow and gunfire. Baldwin Robert, the French General, rallies his men and sends another cavalry charge into the Flemish pike. This too, however, proves indecisive, as the Flemish are able to beat back his cavalry with minimal losses. Fearing this battle unwinnable, Baldwin attempts to quietly slip out of the town square and head for home. Just at this point, Ludwig and his bodyguard have reached the square from the other direction (behind the Flemish pike), after having routed the trebuchet crew and the Scots guards.

“Ludwig! He is running! That arrogant, foolish, stupid coward is running! Let’s get him!”

And so, having finally arrived for the battle, Ludwig’s men charge back out the South gate, to head off Baldwin, who is fleeing in that direction.

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In the meantime, the now leaderless French army is in a spot of bother. The Lancers and Dismounted Knights are refusing to charge, in front of them are formidable Pikemen, and their rear is rapidly being cut off by a small force of Crossbowmen and Hand Gunners, as well as Ludwig’s bodyguard, which is coming around from the outside. Taking charge of the situation, Thomas Bogaard orders the Pikemen and Spearman to advance slowly on the French lining the street.

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As unit by unit of Knights is attacked, the entire army makes one last desperate attempt to break out of the city. However, they are met by a devastating volley of gunfire from the street behind them, which immediately sends the entire army on a massive rout. They are cut down to the man.

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Heinrich strode into the chamber, tentatively feeling a bloody scar on his right cheek, also.

“Surely, you must be kidding Ludwig! You are not going to ransom those cowards!”

“We could have used the money, Heinrich, to rebuild our walls. But no, our offer of ransom has been rejected. I left the butchering to the Flemish. It is a foul, sinful deed, even if they are French. But it doesn’t seem to bother those whose lands they invaded.”

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[flyd]

Imperial Forecast Office, Nuremberg, December 24, 1342

Severe weather warning for central and northern Germany, in effect from noon today until December 29th. Expect heavy snowfall, extremely low temperatures, and low visibility. Move all livestock and peasants indoors for the duration of the warning. Do not go outside unless necessary, and if in the field, seek shelter immediately.

Magdeburg, 1342

After two days of bad weather, the Polish army, no longer able to withstand it in their camp, and not being able to march back to Poland, are forced to seek shelter in Magdeburg, by force.

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During its lengthy siege of the fortress, the enemy had constructed two siege towers, at least four battering rams, and numerous ladders. However, they had no advanced artillery. The Poles took the easiest approach to the fortress, from the east. Here, the outer wall was easily accessible. To at least eliminate the threat of the siege towers, the Imperial commander, Dieter Bresch, Count of Madgeburg, elected to abandon the outer wall, and set up a defense on the second wall. Most of the fighting was to occur at the inner eastern gate.

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The Inner Eastern Gate

The outer eastern gate was locked and abandoned.

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The Outer gate was breached with a battering ram.

After the initial breach, the enemy sent in a highly experienced unit of foot knights with ladders, as well as another battering ram.

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Poles within the walls of Madgeburg! A sight no Franconian ever wanted to see!

However, the Germans had an excellent defensive position. In order to approach the inner gate after having entered through the outer gate, one has to follow the inner wall for some distance. Imperial crossbowmen lined that wall, and inflicted heavy casualties. The enemy would lose a full one-fifth of their army before making first contact. The battering ram teams had issues too.

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As the first set of ladders reaches the wall, the first ram is destroyed.

Some Polish foot knights successfully scaled the wall, but were defeated. The enemy sent a second ram, which reached the gate, causing a breach. The rest of the Polish army entered the outer ring. The spearmen scaled the ladders left there by the previous attack, while the hussars attacked through the gate, both supported by the elite foot knights.

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The battle.

Three enemy units had scaled the wall, where they were engaged on both sides with German foot knights. The hussars, meanwhile, attempted to charge through the gate which was guarded by German sergeants. The sergeants took heavy casualties when the enemy cavalry was joined by foot knights, but both were held off with the help of our own cavalry. After a lengthy period of hand-to-hand combat on the wall, the enemy broke when a fresh unit of knights was brought in from the reserve.

As the enemy soldiers from the wall retreated, Lukas Godwinson arrived from Nuremberg, entering through western gate. They would pay for taking so many German lives that day.

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After these two attacks were defeated, the enemy still had a significant amount of cavalry outside the walls, but little infantry remaining. Dieter Bresch gave the order to withdraw behind the third and final set of walls.

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German flags still fly over Magdeburg.

The Poles did not attempt to breach the third set of walls. Their army withdrew and was not seen again. Offer of ransom for the prisoners was not accepted.

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[OverKnight]

The Third Battle of the Iron Bridge, 1342

The pair of Vardariotai scouts watched the enemy army deployed on the southern side of the bridge. Black and gold Crusader Cross banners flew over the force, meaning it was the Army of Outremer, almost all of it, except for the few units assigned to garrison Antioch. It looked like the Cyclops himself was in command. The lead scout shook his head, Strategos Valsamon would certainly not attack the entire army, not with its fell reputation over the past few years. Others had tried and failed, and the Strategos was no impulsive Captain looking to burnish his reputation or save his skin.

Just as the scouts were about to turn back to report, a series of horn blasts were heard from the other side of the Orontes. Several Crusader infantry units decamped, and as the scouts looked on with interest, marched south on the road back to Antioch.

The lead scout paused to think, over half of the brigand's infantry was now gone, this changed the situation. He ordered his companion to report back to Valsamon.

On the the other side of the river, Matthias Steffen and Adalric watched the second scout depart. Matthias smiled and laughed darkly, "They have taken the bait, again. The Greeks think they're clever this time, waiting for us to divide the army. The sin of pride can be blinding."

Off to his left, Adalric glanced at his liege, Matthias's black eyepatch stood in stark contrast to the rest of his face.

"My Lord, there is the danger that we have weakened our forces too much. It is not just our enemies who may suffer from. . .arrogance."

Matthias turned and leveled his one good eye at Adalric, a grim expression on his face. He held it for a moment and then grunted ruefully, "True enough, Sir, but if I am prideful, at least I am doing it from behind an excellent defensive position. God favors a strong defense."

The Viceroy turned and took in the panorama of the river valley.

"It is good to be back here Adalric. To be back north. This is a good place to make a stand."

A day later, Valsamon moved to attack.

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Matthias deployed his men a distance back from the bridge as the Greeks had elite archers who could reach the far bank. The infantry were in front, ready to charge in and cap the mouth of the bridge. The cannon were off to the right. The cavalry were deployed behind them. The crossbowmen were on the flanks, angled inward to face the midpoint of the bridge.

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The Byzantines led with their archers, mounted and foot. Their infantry was behind them, followed by the heavy cavalry and Vasamon and his retinue. Matthias ordered the cannon to begin firing into their center of mass.

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The rounds exploded among the Greeks. With the Crusaders out of arrow range, the Greek archers and infantry surged forward across the bridge rather than sustain more cannon fire. The Strategos and the melee horsemen hung back.

Matthias, seeing this purple wave crossing the bridge, ordered his own infantry into position. The cannons were ordered to fire at the Greek cavalry.

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The lines met, the Imperial spearmen set just in time to receive the charge of the Vardariotai. As the Greek foot arrived, a mixture of archers, spears and swordmen, Matthias ordered the unhorsed knights and Great Cross guards into the fray.

It was a vicious melee. The Crusader Sergeants and others were being pushed back. Matthias wondered if Adlaric had been right, but then the first Greek units began to break. The horsemen were ordered to pursue.

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This was good news, but as the second wave of Greek foot hit the lines, the routers rallied briefly enough to kill a few crossbowmen. This chaos and the pursuit of the routers disrupted missile and cannon fire. Matthias cursed as he ran down a spearman.

Valsamon, seeing this chaos, decided to cross with the Greek horsemen.

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Fortunately the Imperial cavalry had managed to clear the Greek routers from the line of fire of the crossbowmen. The Imperial front was restored in time to meet the third wave. Matthias ordered his own bodyguard to charge in to meet the Strategos.

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With Valsamon captured, the rest of the Greeks broke. The rout was on.

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A few survivors were able to make it off the field, but the army was destroyed.

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The Basileus did not reward defeat, the Strategos and his men were left to die.

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[Ramses II CP]

Failure at Hamburg, 1344.

Morale was high inside the city, despite the siege. The Hero of Hamburg, Fritz von Kastilien, was inside the city and Prinz Peter himself with a powerful force of Teutonic Knights was just outside, ready to relieve the siege. Every few days Fritz would announce a spot of entertainment for the masses as a Danish prisoner from the last siege army was strung up and hung from the walls to show the Danes outside their eventual fate. Spies reported that this was the last substantial Danish army on the mainland, and that Arhus was lightly held. Communicating with Prinz Peter via flags Fritz prepared to make his sally. Surely God would favor his offensive today just as in every other battle in the war of the north!

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The enemy was experienced and well equipped (3x silver with weapon and armor upgrades) but the walls of Hamburg were very high indeed.The reinforcements would have a long walk to reach the city, so Fritz prepared to keep the Danes busy while his crossbowmen outside the walls advanced.



Spearmen and the merchant cavalry were sent out to encourage the enemy to advance into range of the towers and crossbowmen on the walls. The cavalry moved into position to flank the Danish army. Not wanting to seem passive the enemy sent forward their Norse Archers to duel with the crossbowmen on the walls.



On the Dane's right flank, where the smaller company of merchant cavalry had taken position, War Clerics rushed out to drive them off. The merchants failed to spot this move in time and were struck a glancing blow by a heavy charge. Though few of them were killed, they routed instantly (The first of my many mistakes from not pausing while checking on the progress of the reinforcements) and made for the gates at top speed, pursued by sixty angry War Clerics. Fritz ordered the men who had sallied out of the walls to withdraw back in and close the gates with the merchants outside. Alas one clumsy militia spearman managed to first trip over his own spear, and then drop his shield attempting to get back inside and the gates could not be closed in time.



The gateway was lost! If the Danish captain realized how much initiative he had gained the entire city might fall! Flagmen on the walls ordered the eastern group of merchant cavalry to try to make up for the failure of their fellows and distract the Danes. Hurling insults at Captain Berger's own War Clerics those men managed to draw him off into the forests to the east, in the direction from which the defenseless crossbowmen were marching for the city but also preventing him from issuing the critically necessary order to attack.



At the gate Fritz immediately sent his entire infantry force, two partial companies of spearmen militia and one of Forlorn Hope, to the battle as well as his own bodyguards. The clumsy fool who had allowed the gates to be taken was the first to die, as the War Clerics ran him down from behind when he bent to pull up his socks. Confusion reigned amongst the War Clerics in the gate house as they were surrounded and unsupported in their unexpectedly successful attack.



Long moments passed during which for every War Cleric that fell three of the Hamburg militia were killed, but at last Fritz reached the front personally. There were few War Clerics remaining, but they still held the gatehouse. Roaring a challenge Fritz burst into their midst and slew two of them instantly.



The rest at last gave up the battle and fled. All would be shot down from behind before they could return to the Danish lines.



In the woods Captain Berger had at last given up on chasing the merchants and made his way back to his lines. The militia cavalry exulted that they had escaped a deadly battle and actually been useful in the siege, unlike their brothers. (I hate Merchant Cavalry Militia.)



Upon his return to the army Captain Berger learned what an opportunity he had missed and was infuriated. Inside the city Fritz's reinforcements had finally arrived, though the day was half over. Fritz ordered them onto the walls and went back to overseeing the tower fire without a thought. Alas, two companies of those weary men, having already marched miles on this day, somehow misunderstood Fritz's orders and marched out of the gate instead. Just in time to take a charge from the War Clerics Berger sent to probe any potential weakness at the gate (Round two of my mistakes, or three. No idea how they got their orders so wrong.) and many were lost, especially among the militia crossbowmen.



By this time in the battle the number of crossbowmen on the walls was overwhelming, and the Danish Norse Archers had been all but obliterated. The merchant cavalry were called in from the woods to clear them away. One group of them, having shot out their arrows, made their way almost intact back to the enemy lines but the other three were destroyed. The merchants overpursue and take losses in the mass of Danish infantry.



By this point in the battle the bombard is at last in place, and the ribault is moving slowly into position as well. The enemy has no ranged units to answer this fire, and from their left flank Peter's Teutons are arriving in force. Captain Berger has inflicted far more losses, and held his infantry intact far longer than Fritz had expected, and now he makes the decision to put his two remaining War Cleric companies into battle. First he sends one to probe the gate again and attempt to silence the bombard, then he personally rides out to attack the Teutonic Knights, calling infantry behind him to support his move.



A bombard shot blasts through the War Clerics attacking the gate just as they are carving a path through the militia spearmen there. Those men scattered themselves out desperately to attack the bombard, and killed two of the crew, but they now broke and fled having taken surprisingly few losses. Many of the men would be shot down on the way out, and none would return to the city. Three quarters of the daylight available for fighting has passed, and the Danish infantry, the mass of their army, is almost completely whole.



Near a withered old tree the Teutons surround Captain Berger's men, who stand and fight despite being slightly outnumbered. Eventually they are overwhelmed and start to fall in large numbers. Their infantry support is still far distant, and unlikely to arrive. They've killed half the Teutons, but only ten of them remain. Captain Berger sounds the retreat, but not in flight or fear, in orderly fashion.



The Teutons cannot pursue as they must reorder their own lines and smash the infantry in the area, so Captain Berger escapes to furiously launch his men at the bombard which has been firing into his infantry.



All but three War Clerics die before reaching the walls, and spearmen are ready to attack those three. Many militiamen die to the valiant Captain Berger, but in the end they drag him down.



At last Fritz himself rides out of the walls to salute the corpse of Captain Berger. 'You fought better than any of the Danish nobles I've encoutered. I am suitably impressed, but now I go to butcher your army. Go with God.' Most of the remaining crossbowmen are brought down from the walls to harry the enemy. Every time they attempt to attack the massed crossbowmen charges strike home on their flanks from the Teutons and Fritz's bodyguard. Both sides are ground down by the fighting, but the Huscarls that make up half the Danish infantry are finally annihilated.



At this point the field is a mess. There is no longer any question of losing this battle, only of whether or not his men have the strength and time to complete it. Volleys of bolts smash into the slow moving swordstaves. Fritz's infantry and cavalry combined to overwhelm two companies of them, but losses are staggering and Fritz's infantry formations are no longer combat capable. It's all down to the crossbowmen. One company of militia crossbowmen and mercenary crossbowmen, out of bolts, attempt to overwhelm some swordstaff men with the help of a few remaining Teutons and Mounted Sergeants, but they are repulsed and slaughtered. One mercenary flees the battle, four militia crossbowmen survive, and few of the cavalry.



Assessing his remaining forces Fritz realizes the time has come to withdraw behind the walls. There is very little daylight left for shooting down the rest of the enemy militia, and their heavy armor withstands many of the bolts fired at them. It would be unwise to utterly exhaust his men firing blindly in the dark when the army outside no longer has a real chance of capturing the city. Reluctantly, angrily, but also wearily Fritz orders his men to pull back and leave the huge, vulnerable formations of swordstaves sitting outside.

The battle was brutally unpleasant and ultimately disappointing. Mere minutes away from victory Fritz had been forced to concede a draw, with the enemy still in possession of the field. Fortunately Prinz Peter was still out there, an untapped resource, and if he could rally the crossbowmen outside the walls he should be able to clear away the remaining Danes.

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Ascending the walls the next day Fritz notes a Danish messenger has brought word that the Danes are ransoming some few men who surrendered to them during the battle. The final humiliation, thinks Fritz, but I will need the men if the Danes can somehow draw up more forces. 'Pay the man his paltry sum. My day will come again, and soon. And after that... Arhus.'

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[OverKnight]

The Assault on Adana, Part I


Prelude

Matthias Steffen knelt in the ruined Catholic Church in Antioch. He had ordered it's enlargement in 1336 right before the Greek Siege of the city and its eventual fall. Whatever improvements had been made, the Greeks had smashed. Windows were shattered, pews used for firewood and stones stolen for a new Greek church, which in its own turn had been demolished upon Andreas's retaking of the city. A cloudy sky could be seen through the many holes in the roof.

The state of the building saddened Matthias, for it was here Aldaric had presented him with Iron Faith, the sword of Saint Maximillian and King Salier, which the young man had removed from Adana shortly before its transfer to the Greeks. It was here that Matthias had received his mission from God, to restore Outremer to glory.

Matthias shook his head as he knelt in the dust. That mission had seen many delays, the loss of Antioch, the retreat south and the holding actions he had fought on the road to Acre. Matthias noticed a fresco on the wall behind the remains of the Altar. It showed a map of Outremer in its prime, superimposed on a Crusader Cross. Matthias grunted, true Antioch had been regained, but others of the former counties lay in darkness or in the hands of allies.

The question facing the Crusaders after the reconquest of this city, was what to do now? Risk an attack on Adana? Hold at the Iron Bridge? Raid any Greek army that showed up? Build a fleet to strike at Cyprus?

Matthias was unsure, pressure had to be kept on the Greeks, but his army had to be kept intact. He prayed for guidance.

After a few minutes of silence, the wind picked up, rushing through the holes in the battered church. Suddenly there was a break in the clouds, and a beam of light broke through. As Matthias watch transfixed, it struck the map of Outremer, illuminating Adana brightly before winking out of existence as the clouds rolled in again.

Matthias stood somewhat shakily. Another sign. There would be no more falling back, no more tricks, Adana must be retaken.

Striding out of the Church, Matthias began calling for his men.


The Assault

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The Army of Outremer came at night to Adana. It had been reinforced from Antioch, Andreas would have enough men to keep the city quiet, and there were no Greek armies within marching distance.

The cannons took pride of place, it would be up to them to make any breaches. The rest of the army deployed around them.

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The Greeks were off the walls, no doubt Strategos Pelekanos was fearful of the cannons. It was wise of him.

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As the Imperial foot advanced, the Greeks moved to block the gate. Screaming the name of Saint Maximillian the Crusaders charged the Greeks to retake his burial site.

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A fierce battle developed at the gate, but the Greeks decided to retreat once cannon fire began raking the gate towers. Their aim was to make a stand at the second ring. Imperial horsemen pursued as the cannon were brought up to just inside the first gate.

The cavalry mauled the retreating Greeks, but switched to charge a unit of Guard Archers that was firing on them. They eventually broke as well and began falling back to the second gate. As the cavalry ran them down, a unit of dismounted Latinkon charged through the second gate to attack. A confused melee ensued.

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Concerned, Matthias considered withdrawing his horsemen, but enemy troops now lined the walls of the second ring, missile fire would be deadly on retreating cavalry. The Latinkon were keeping the gate open, best to call the infantry up and try to force it.

The cannons began firing on the defenses of the second ring in support of this push.

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The addition of the Imperial foot broke the Latinkon and they fell back through the open gate. The Crusaders ran after them in full pursuit.

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The second ring had been breached.

[OverKnight]

The Assault on Adana, Part II


The Breakthrough

The Crusader cavalry pursued the broken Greek units toward the main keep, but were stopped by a charging unit of Vardariotai.

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At the same time, two units of Greek foot came off the walls of the second ring to take the Crusader infantry in the rear.

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After a bloody brawl, all three units were broken. The infantry was killed to the last man, though a few of the horse archers were able to escape.

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Many of the Greeks had been killed outside the main Keep, but Pelekanos was within the last redoubt with a strong force of cavalry and a few remnants of footmen and archers.

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Matthias called a halt to the advance. Now was the time for patience. The Keep would have to be reduced and the last defenders weakened before the final assault. The cannons were brought forward. Towers crumbled. . .

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. . .as did walls.

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The crossbowmen were redeployed to fire arcing shots over the last walls and down into the defenders. The remaining Vardariotai charged out through the new breach to try to stop this.

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Matthias and his bodyguard charged in and they were killed. The time had come to finish the job.

[OverKnight]

The Assault on Adana, Part III


The Reconquest

With the last defenders contained in the Keep, it was time to start thinning their numbers. Some of the more chivalrous knights took exception toward slowly killing the Greeks with arcing missile fire, but the footmen, and Matthias, didn't mind at all. The bowmen fired until they were out of bolts.

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The cannons, with the flat trajectory of their shot, were tasked with opening another way into the Keep.

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With Matthias focused on the cannons, another Greek charge into the crossbowmen went unnoticed, killing several of them, but the Crusader counter-charge finished off half the remaining garrison.

As the Crusader foot closed in for the final attack, Pelekanos made one last desperate charge with his men.

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He was unhorsed and killed. The Crusaders swarmed into the Keep.

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The final fight was vicious, but the Greeks by this point were very outnumbered.

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Adana, the first settlement in the East taken by the First Crusade, was again part of Outremer.

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The Citadel was occupied, there would be no butchery or theft in such an important place. 1628 florins were gained.

Epilogue

Making his way through the carnage of the concluded battle, Matthias entered the ruined Chapel of Adana. It was much in the same state of disrepair as the one in Antioch. The Greeks had not been kind, but even they had refrained from desecrating the tombs of Maximillain Mandorf, Conrad Salier and Otto von Kassel. Perhaps it was out of respect for the Saint's defeat of a Jihad called for Constantinople those many years ago, but no one was left alive to tell Matthias, it was a mystery. Trailing his hand along the coffins of the great men who had come before him, Matthias felt in awe.

Grasping the hilt of Iron Faith, Matthias spoke to the dead, "I hope you don't mind if I keep the sword for a bit longer? I'll be here soon enough myself."

And then the Viceroy of Outremer knelt and prayed, giving thanks for the guidance that had brought him here, to Adana, and to victory.

[Northnovas]

From the pages of Biographer to Karl Zirn the Honourable

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Vienna 1344

The last few years have been hard on the old man. The Duke was incapacitated because of an unknown sickness. Karl was now the Steward of the Austrian House and here he was out in some old field engaging the enemy again and trying to get two young nobles prepared to lead men into battle. It was a changing of the guard. He knew it was time for him to move aside and let the younger generation lead.

Karl looked at the two men while sitting in his tent reviewing the battle map. Both were eager to prove their worth. Especially Dieter von Essen his son in law and who had combat experience under the old man. However, not with the amount of responsibility that was before him today. The other young man von Hapsburg was eager but indifferent to the situation. He had come from an aristocratic family and was well educated but had no experience in combat.

The Hungarians were harassing the peasants in the region they had made a threat to Vienna earlier but backed off. They have remained in the region with no objective and their presence was a threat to Vienna and Zagreb. The plan was to remove them out of the region so they were no longer a concern.

Karl looked at the two men then with a mug of hot drink he raised it in the air. “Victory with honour” he then drank from the mug savoring the aromas and flavour. He then continued on. “We will attack tomorrow morning. I wanted you men to see what combat is like in the dark and how to use it to your advantage. However, it does limit our artillery in spotting targets. I wanted to see what you are made of and make the enemy pay for the land we had to conceit years earlier. I want to send a message that we mean business and will get back what has been lost.” These were words that were not expected to come from the old man. There was a lot of conviction and they were both expecting a softer tone from Karl the Honourable.

They spoke not a word and were dismissed to prepare for the fight that lay ahead.

The morning sun was already up before the troops converged on the battlefield. The enemy was deep in the woods and to bring them out Zirn backed himself into a depression in front of a cliff face. He wanted to use the little open space for his missile troops and artillery. The young nobles were in reserve for the final punch to the enemy ranks.



The Hungarians came out of the woods quickly and formation. Their speed surprised the artillery crews who could not target individual regiments.



Karl was amazed at the speed of the enemy and the discipline they demonstrated. They approached the higher ground and at full speed burst into the Austrian lines. All fronts were hit and the Hungarians reached through some gaps quickly.



Karl Zirn was engaged in combat before he realized what had happened. He bravely fought the Hungarian Knights off. He tried to signal his nobles but they were already engaged with the enemy spearmen. Both young nobles were gaining their worth.



Hapsburg was quickly overwhelmed by the spearmen and viciously fought his way from being encircled. In no time he was down to himself and one man. He finally broke from the enemy and headed to the open field
Dieter von Essen found himself in a similar situation but his experience in combat prevented serious losses. Both nobles met in the field being pursued by the enemy spearmen. They joined together in the open field and combining their skills helped defeat the enemy spearmen.



The fight of the Hungarians was unprecedented in Zirn’s view. He never saw such speed and tenacity and at one point thought he was heading for defeat. The 2nd AHA held out for the old man. The young nobles were knighted in front of the men and given a great cheer.

Karl was tired and sore from the combat but his losses were not has great compared to the young nobles.
The prisoners were rounded up before Karl and the young nobles.

Karl looked at the Hungarians and then turned to the young nobles. I know how much you wanted to kill these men and you had every right to do so but now, is not he time for such action. These men fought like you but were not victors. You are the victors and there you shall show the mercy on the defeated. Save your vengeance for the next time you meet.

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Karl the Honourable then walked away leaving the young nobles to contemplate his message. The prisoners were released without ransom or death has been always the way with the old man.

The deployment and results:

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[Ramses II CP]

Hamburg and Arhus, 1344.

Fritz had gotten word that Peter was launching his attack to lift the siege. Though he was certain Peter would need no help, he sallied just to see the death of the army that had so nearly destroyed his and Peter's own armies. From being clearly at a disadvantage in the initial sally, to being massively at an advantage in this battle was gratifying, and slightly offset the shame Fritz felt at failing to drive the Danes entirely from the walls of Hamburg.

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Peter had ridden out alone to challenge the enemy, to draw them away from Hamburg. Fritz's men would enter from Peter's left rear, and the crossbowmen would enter from Peter's right rear.



Prinz Peter didn't need to be told which enemy company needed attention first. He charged home against the dismounted Huscarls immediately, smashing their formation and leaving them all lying in the grass without taking a single loss among his bodyguards.



Peter then withdrew to draw the War Clerics away from their swordstaff allies, which let Hans and the remaining Teutons circle in behind them. They were rapidly annihilated to light casualties among Peter's guardsmen. The Danish captain was the last to fall.





All that was left was to let the crossbowmen work. Not one swordstaff man out of over two hundred would strike a single blow in the battle, nor would any escape.



When only three of those valiant militiamen remained their formation finally broke and routed.

Ransom would be refused. After the battle Fritz effusively thanked Peter and briefly discussed their plans. As noted in the Prince's edict no Franconian city currently stood under siege, and Fritz's much reduced army could hardly be truly necessary for defense, therefore Fritz begged permission to ride on to Arhus and, if the gates could be breached, assault the lightly held city. It was granted. That matter settled, Fritz then knelt solemnly to apologize for his failure at Madgeburg, and when he stood again the two brothers shared a weary smile.

'A grand day, eh my Prinz?'

'So it is, brother.'

'At last Franconia stands not only free of alien armies, but truly prepared to take vengeance for all the blood spilled in her defense. A glorious day! I will see you soon, brother. God be with you, and God save the Reich!'

So saying, Fritz rode rapidly away north with the remnants of his army.

That night, in camp outside of Arhus, the men were sharing jokes about what the peasants along the road had done upon seeing German flags at the head of a northbound army. Robert, concerned over the paltry size of the force Fritz had gathered to head north, shook his head and said, 'M'lord how will we keep discipline once the city is taken?'

'Have no fear on that point! These are Danes. I've carved a blood soaked path through almost a dozen of the best armies they can field. No Dane would dare to raise his hand against me. If you thought the stories they told at Stettin were bad, wait until you hear what they say about me in the north!'

'But, the city is huge Lord Fritz! The population is immense! Surely they will not let their Prince fight us alone. If tens of thousands of them swarmed into the streets we would be overrun.'

'Trust me Robert. Those men fear me more than they fear death. Rightly so. I'd see that city burned to the ground and the very earth on which it sits salted before I let it raise an army against the Reich again. Once Arhus is ours the citizens will be so surprised to have survived my coming that it won't even occur to the boldest to try taking up arms. And, of course, we'll plunder it and put a few thousand to the sword just to drive the point home. Be of good cheer Robert! You're about to participate it the sack of a major European capital city. There are few mercenaries in all the world with that on their resume.'

So saying, Fritz von Kastilien adjourned to his tent and slept more deeply than he had in all the days since he was a child.

In the morning Fritz reviewed an Imperial report on the Danish Prince, Ulfhedin. Word had it that Germany's repeated victories and Fritz's threats had caused the man to go bald though he was only a few years out of his teens, and some whispered that he was deranged. He had attempted to order a moat dug all around the city after the defeat of the Honor Guard army at the bridge west of Hamburg, but the effort had stalled when, upon discovering that he had more workers than shovels, the Prince ordered men to dig a ten foot deep trench with their bare hands.

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Coming up over a rise and finally into full view of the city Fritz nudged Bergin riding next to him. 'Look man, they've built a huge Cathedral. Truly this city will be a stunning addition to the Reich!'



Bringing along the ribault allowed Fritz to assault the gates immediately.



Unfortunately Fritz had no spearmen to bring along, having been force to leave the remnant of the Hamburg militia there at Hamburg. This meant that his crossbowmen would have to bear the brunt in the fighting. Fritz left them with strict orders to retreat the the first sign of a Danish sally from the square, and rode down the streets to capture the east gate and let in his Albanians. The smaller company of mercenary crossbowmen went forward to bait the enemy Prince, and withdrew in fairly good order when he sallied.



Robert and the larger company of crossbowmen were in position on the walls, and they fired brutal volleys into the Prince's guard, as did the ribault team. Over half of his men died before he realized Fritz was about to capture the square behind him, and he fled back to defend it.



Fritz withdrew rather than give battle against three times his number, and the tactic was repeated. Unfortunately this time the crossbowmen failed to withdraw in time, and Robert was forced to lead his men down off the walls to attempt a rescue. Ultimately the effort failed and the mercenary crossbowmen were all killed, but nearly all of the Danes died in the attack as well.



Riding back to the square Prince Ulfhedin was shocked to discover Fritz von Kastilien waiting for him there. The two men briefly exchanged words.

'You were warned. Over and over I sent men to tell you and your King I was coming.'

'But, but... we sent armies, thousands of men, hardy veterans of the cold wastes! You and your Reich were doomed! Every hand turned against you!'

'It was not enough.'

'No, I know. I told them we needed a moat!'

'**** itself would not have withstood my assault. Lay down your sword, we'll see if your King will pay for your head.'

'NO! I will not be hung from the walls of my own city!' Ulfhedin reared his horse and began to order a charge... but at a gesture from Fritz hundreds of bolts and arrows flew into the backs of the Prince's guard. Many more speared downward after they fell, pinning them to the earth.



'Collect his corpse and drape it over the north gate, as a warning to any who would try to creep away and carry word to the Danish King.' So saying, Fritz rode to the center of the square and gave a brief speech.



'Citizens of Arhus (The ones that speak German anyway) your taxes, your sweat, and your tears have paid for much bloodshed and destruction in my homelands. Today I return the favor! Be of good cheer, however, as this is no raid as the one I conducted at Stockholm, this is an annexation! Those of you who survive will become citizens of the Reich, and your taxes and tears will now fund our wars. On this day many of you will die, but tomorrow the compliant living can shelter in the gentle hands of the Hero of Hamburg, Fritz von Kastilien!'

'Any who take up arms against me, however, will be flayed in the square for a period of one hour before being allowed to die by fire. That is all. My men will now collect our due. Do not resist if you value your life.'

Screams were already echoing through the streets as Fritz spurred his horse back towards the south gate, the one his ribault had shot through. Doesn't look like it will be a difficult repair, and the city is completely intact otherwise, thought Fritz, quite pleased with himself, and I daresay I've shown considerable restraint in not exterminating this rathole. A long road to here, and this is not the end, but I'll wager it is the beginning of the end of the power of the Danes to threaten the Reich. A fine day's work. Prinz Peter will be pleased. Elberhard can have that wreck of a city in the swamp that is Venice, I'll take Arhus over it any day of the week!

[TinCow]

Milan - 1344 AD

(Apologies, I don't have time to write this up. The screenshots should tell the tale well enough, though.)

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[econ21]

Bologna, 1344

“All right, we’re going in.” Elberhard declared.

Maina looked up at the Kaiser in surprise. He had already ordered siege engines to be constructed. Why attack now before they were ready?

“Are you sure, Sire?” probed Sir Charles de Villiers, veteran warrior and effective second in command of the Kaiser’s army. In front of the Kaiser’s army stood a huge city garrisoned by a full strength Byzantine army.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Elberhard sighed. Duke Lothar had written to him, proposing him that the Bavarian Household Armies be combined and moved from Milan to secure Genoa. The main thrust down central Italy was to be made by Imperial forces alone …if Elberhard thought he could handle Bologna alone. The letter had stung the Kaiser. It made taking Bologna a matter of personal honour. Besides, he had ample men. If Fritz Kastilien could conquer the Danes with two men and a dog, the Kaiser should be able to take one @#$%^&!!!ing city with an army of every Imperial knight in the Reich!

Elberhard look at Sir Charles exasperatedly: “Look - it’s going to be no easier taking that @#$%^&!!! of a city if we wait. It will be the next Diet session by the time we starve them out. If spend time building siege engines, we will lose the element of surprise. The garrison will be deployed in its entirety manning the walls. If we use our cannon to blow the doors, we can be in there before they know what’s happening. We’ve done this before - in Antioch. We set our archers on the walls and then hold the streets below. We turn the siege around against them.

Plus there is a second Byzantine army heading north from Rome. I don’t want us standing here with our pants around our ankles, caught between the two @#$%^&!!!ing armies - do I?”

Sir Charles bowed his head in deference. The Kaiser and his retinue moved off to address the troops. Maina noted with interest that for once the Kaiser did not launch off into his usual obscenity strewn invective, but ended with a plea to put one’s faith in God and do one's duty. The men responded with equally solemn conviction - the discovery of the shattered wreck that was Venice had added to the army’s grim determination to expel the Byzantines from Italy once and for all. This would be the last major battle. Already Dieter von Kassel was disembarking outside a lightly held Naples. After Bologna, there was a mere half sized Byzantine army guarding Florence and Rome.

Maina watched the gunners move the cannon into position. Two columns of infantry were already moving either side of the guns, heading silently towards the still sleepy city. The Nubian shieldbearer saw the flash from the cannon muzzle. Only then did he realise how dark and overcast the day had become. He crossed himself. A second volley from the cannon and the castle gates were down. The officers called out and the infantry columns broke into a run. The race for the city was on.

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“Maina!” shouted Elberhard “Stop day dreaming! We are going in first! Come on!”

Maina nodded quickly to the Kaiser. The man had a habit of throwing himself into the battle right from the outset, effectively leaving command to Sir Charles. It was not a good habit.

*****

The Imperial infantry managed to get a sufficient distance into the city to establish an effective cordon around the tower gates. No Byzantine infantry would be able to fire from the towers down on the attackers. Indeed, the Germans rushed their archers onto the walls to provide support to the Imperial infantry holding the streets leading to the gates.

Curiously, the first Byzantines to intercept the Germans were archers. Evidently, they assumed that they - not the Germans - would win the race for the walls. The archers were from Trebizond and of higher calibre than most missile troops, but nonetheless, the more heavily armed Imperial infantry had the advantage in the street fighting that erupted around the gates.

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First contact.




The dismounted Imperial knights clearly outmatch the Trebizond archers.

“Right lads, let’s speed this up - follow me, we’ll hit them in the arse!” Elberhard summoned his retinue to follow him up a side street - parallel to the main thoroughfare where five regiments of Trebizond archers were vainly trying to force a way to the gates. The side street would allow the Kaiser’s retinue to get behind the Trebizond archers, although it would bring the German cavalry perilously close to the main Byzantine force in the city square.

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The Kaiser leads his escort behind the first wave of Byzantines attempting to retake the gate.

As they rode past the city centre, Maina looked with concern at the many regiments of Latinkon - mounted and dismounted - and other Byzantines arrayed there. It seemed inevitable that, as the Kaiser’s escort struck the rear of the Trebizond archers, it in turn would be struck in the rear by other Byzantines coming from the city square.

Sure enough, although the Kaiser’s intervention helped break the Trebizond archers massing in front of the gates, first a regiment of Byzantine infantry and then one of spearmen attacked the Kaiser’s escort in the rear. Soon, the Kaiser’s retinue was down to half strength.

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The biter bit.

“Pull out! Pull out!” even Elberhard realised the futility of his few mounted knights staying where they were between the gates and a thousand Byzantine soldiers. Maina noticed a pained expression on the Kaiser’s face.

“Are you hurt, Sire?”

Elberhard forced a smile: “Just another scar to add to the collection!”

*****

Then the hard fighting began. The Byzantines committed their dismounted Latinkon to the assault on the gates. These mercenary Frankish knights were a match for even the Reich’s Imperial knights. In fact, Maina suspected, they probably were more than a match for them. Only by feeding more infantry regiments into the battle was the Kaiser able to stop the Latinkon breaking through.

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The Latinkon, having destroyed a regiment of Imperial knights and mercenary spearmen, now attack the second line of German defenders.

As casualties steadily mounted on both sides, the Byzantines finally funnelled all their men from the city centre into the main street leading to the gate.

“Aha!” exclaimed Elberhard “Now we have them! Get every spare man down the side streets - including the cavalry - and then behind them. We will trap them in the main street and break them!”

Maina spurred his horse to follow the Kaiser. They were heading down the same side street they had used to get behind the Trebizonds. As they rode, Maina noticed the mounted Latinkon who had been heading for the assault on the gate, halt and turn back. Clearly, the Byzantines had awoken to the trap the Kaiser was closing on them. It was a close race, but the German cavalry managed to get behind the Byzantine cavalry before the latter could escape to the town square.

It was now a bloody cavalry melee - around one hundred Byzantine cavalry against a roughly similar number of Germans. For a while, Maina wondered if the mounted Latinkon would break out of the main street but then he saw the plumed figure of the Byzantine captain fall to the mace of a mounted Imperial knight. Victory was only moments away!

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The Byzantine captain lies dead - the end will not be long now.

But the death of their Captain did not immediately break the morale of the mounted Latinkon. Instead, they fought with the fury of cornered men and, massed together, continued to push their way through towards the city centre. Maina noticed too late that the Kaiser was standing directly in the path of a wedge of Latinkon. He watched in horror as the Kaiser’s horse reared and then fell, toppling his master to the ground.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Oh, @#$%^&!!!

The Nubian jumped off his own mount and drew his two handed axe. With a fearsome grace, he slashed at the unprotected legs of the Byzantine horses in his path, causing terrible carnage as he made for his fallen leader. Any Latinkon foolish enough to stand within reach of the giant Nubian was instantly felled. When Maina reached Elberhard, he threw away his axe and knelt beside him. The sounds of battle seemed to fade away. German knights started to see with shock what had happened and were hastily carving space around their fallen leader and his shieldbearer.

Elberhard looked up into the Nubian’s brown eyes and smiled.

“To think - my last words to the Diet were about Dieter von Essen’s arse!” he laughed, but then wrenched with the pain of doing so.

“Maina, I am done for. Tell Linyeve, I die loving her as much as the first time I saw set eyes on her. Tell my children, I am sorry I will no longer be there for them but I died a good death.”

The Kaiser was fading and it seemed to Maina as if the very skies were darkening further.

“But there is one more thing, Maina. The grail - my brother Hans died with it and passed it on to me. But my father was right - my family is cursed. I want you to take it. Where you come from - Nubia - are there Christians?”

“The Arabs made us Mohammadens at the point of a sword. But I have heard that there is one mighty nation further south - the Abyssinians - who worship Christ.”

“A mighty nation of your people that worships Christ … I like the sound of that. Go, Maina, find this nation. Take the grail. We Germans do not deserve it. We brought this cataclysm upon ourselves and worse, we devoured ourselves during it. Take the grail to the Abyssinians. May its light uplift their faith for a thousand years. Go now, before the others think on it. Go - get the @#$%^&!!! out of here, go!”

Elberhard pushed Maina away. The dying Kaiser’s curses in his ears, Maina turned and walked off, a ragged shape clasped tightly under his arm. As word of the Kaiser’s fall spread around the battlefield, no one gave a second thought to the tall Nubian slipping away.

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The butcher’s bill

[Cecil XIX]

Taking the save to clear Bohemia.

[Stuperman]

[econ21]

Frankfurt, 1348


“He is leaving before your honeymoon?” Linyeve prodded her sullen daughter.

Eue looked up, with dull eyes and nodded, saying under her breathe: “Thank God.”

Linyeve looked at her daughter sharply, was about to say something and then thought better of it. Warily, she circled round in the conversation: “And he is leading the militia off to fight a Polish army?”

“A small Polish army. And he does not just have the militia. He has persuaded the Kaiser to let him lead some of the remnants of what was once the Prinz’s army. He will lead them and two of the more experienced militia regiments - the rest will be in support. He will have over 750 men, all told”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Linyeve smiled quietly. “Well, well - Sir Charles said he showed promise. And the Chancellor has authorised this expedition?”

Eue nodded disinterestedly while her mother seemed to grow ever more fascinated.

“Not many sixteen year olds could charm the Kaiser out of his army or get the iron Duke to give them command of seven hundred and fifty men!”

“I am sure charm had nothing to do with it. Charm is not something my dear husband is over-endowed with. And anyway, the Reich is so desperate, they’d appoint anyone. They’ve just made mad pox-ridden Dieter von Kassel their Prinz, remember?!”

“Now, now, dear - we have talked about this. You have made your bed and you have to lie in it. Do not talk your husband down. He has done well getting the horse out of the stable door. Let’s hope he knows how to ride it”

Eue looked up at her mother and scowled. “If he fell and broke his neck, I would not be…”

“Eue!” reprimanded her mother and the girl fell back into her morose silence.

*****

Welf von Luxemburg looked around at the small force he had gathered together. He had been exultant when the Kaiser had agreed to the loan of his men. But the Kaiser’s force that had survived a close victory with the Poles east of Magdeburg was heavily depleted. From the survivors, Welf created one near full strength regiment of pavise crossbowmen and one of armoured sergeants. He also gathered a band of less than one score unhorsed Imperial knights. He had ample militia - two regiments with some combat experience and a further three in support. But he had little faith in the ability of militia to handle the formidable Poles. The few professional infantry, and his own retinue, would have to be the spearhead in the day’s battle.

“What do we know of the composition of their forces?” inquired Welf, as his men began to deploy for battle.

“One regiment of Polish Guard and one of Strzelcy - backed by two regiments of spears and two of archers.”

Welf nodded. It could have been worse. He had organised the entire expedition without knowing the composition of the enemy force. It was a reckless move, but a necessary one. To rise within the Reich, he needed to fight and the Poles had obliged by marching on his very wedding party. Spending his honeymoon besieged in Nuremburg would have been an irrecoverable shame.

He looked around at the position. He had been lucky - his men had secured a hill and the poorly led Poles were left deployed below them. Welf looked at the Strzelcy stationed below and, gesturing to them, asked his captain of archers:

“Can you hit them?”

The Captain smiled: “Consider it done.”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Strzelcy are the hardest enemy for the Imperials to catch, so they are prioritised as targets for the German arbalests.

The advantage of height and the heavier design of their crossbows allowed the Germans to fire down on the Polish cavalry without exposing themselves to counterfire. The Poles were slow to react, but eventually appeared stung into action - sending their own missile infantry and the Strzelcy up the hill, and into range.

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Stung by mounting losses, the Poles advance. Welf starts to counter them.

Welf spurred his escort down the hill, aiming to catch the skirmishing Polish infantry. The generals’ retinue caught a regiment of Polish crossbow militia and wrecked it, but the Lithuanian archers managed to escape to safety behind the supporting line of spears.

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The German crossbowmen continued to shoot down the Strzelcy until they were so demoralised, they could be put to flight by a regiment of militia.

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Heavily depleted by Imperial crossbow fire, the Strzelcy flee when charged.

Having disposed of the Strzelcy, the German crossbowmen began to target the formidable Polish Guard - some of the finest cavalry in Europe. Once again, the Polish foot archers moved up the hill to return fire and once again, Welf charged his escort in pursuit after them.

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Welf's escort hacks through the Lithuanian archers.

This time, however, the Polish Guard did not stand idly by but charged Welf’s cavalry - while the accompanying Polish spear regiments also climbed the hill in support.

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The Polish Guard charge Welf's escort.

In haste, Welf extricated his escort from their combat with the Lithuanian archers and quickly raced back to the protection of the German spear men. The pursuing Polish Guard were caught in the front by the serried ranks of the armoured spearmen and in the flank by the militia regiment that was returning from driving off the Strzelcy.

For a moment, Welf considered committing his escort to support the action against the Polish Guard. However, the Guard’s advance lacked momentum and its riders were spread out - it could be contained. He turned instead to the two regiments of Polish spearmen - now battling the Nuremburg militia. The Poles were of superior quality and were lapping round the militia lines. But in so doing, they were exposing their rear to Welf’s reforming cavalry. Never one to miss an opportunity, Welf seized this one.

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Welf’s escort charges the engaged Polish spearmen

The targeted regiment of Polish spearmen routed at the momentum the German cavalry charge impacted.

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The other regiment of Polish spearmen was disposed of in much the same way. As Welf turned to give his attention to the Polish Guard, he saw with satisfaction that they too were running - snared by the spearmen and stripped of all support, even these fine knights had had enough.

After the battle, Welf totalled up the losses. His force had got off rather lightly - the Polish force had been all but destroyed, although 216 survivors had been taken prisoner.

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The butcher’s bill

“What shall we do with the prisoners, Sire?” a Captain inquired.

Welf looked at the captives - they were mainly the low grade infantry who had surrendered to his escort. Ransoming would provide little return and if released, they posed little threat. Most of all, Welf judged that if he - as a mere sixteen year old, devoid of much station in life - was to earn the respect of the Imperial nobility, he must act according to their principles of chivalry.

“Let them go - and let them tell their friends of what awaits any armies that dare to threaten the Reich!”

[TinCow]

Northwest of Florence, 1348 AD

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“Damned Byzantines breed like rabbits…”

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“…good thing they get their brains from the same place.”

Lothar Steffen turned to survey his small and battered army. Ever since the desperate defense of the walls of Milan, the army had been composed more of crossbowmen than infantry. They stood now in a formation designed to turn that weakness to an advantage.

The army stood on a high mountain slope, with the regiments of Pavise Crossbowmen arrayed in two double lines. The lower reaches were too steep for any man to cross in the heat of battle.

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The only access to the veteran crossbowmen was via two steep pathways on either side of them. To their left, the slope was narrow and wound away from the attacking Byzantine force. It was safe and easily defended. To their right was a much larger slope, but all of Lothar’s infantry was concentrated at that point. In the narrow confines of the slope, the vastly superior Byzantine numbers could not be brought to bear.

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The Duke of Bavaria turned to look at Count Karolinger.

“Shall we give them a chance to face true Bavarians in honorable combat before we humiliate them?”

The Count of Innsbruck grinned and lowered his visor.

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After a few minutes of combat, the Bavarian cavalry withdrew back to the mountaintop. The charge had inflicted many casualties, but it was only a small fraction of the total Byzantine force. Of greater significance was the chaos and disorder it caused amongst the Greek lines. It took the infantry several minutes to reform their lines. In the meantime, the archers continued to advance on the Bavarian positions.

The crossbowmen were heavily outnumbered, but their powerful weapons, superior height, and protective shields gave them a significant advantage in the duel that was to follow.

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After several minutes of combat, nearly the entire Byzantine ranged contingent lay dead on the field.

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Less than a dozen Bavarians had fallen for the effort.

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Count Karolinger turned to look at Lothar Steffen. “The crossbowmen are running low on bolts. What now, my Duke?”

“Now?” The Duke of Bavaria laughed. “Now we run away!”

“M’lord?”

“Their infantry lines are done reforming and will be advancing on us shortly. Despite this excellent ground, we will not be able to hold it forever. Before long, our lines will be breached and we will be defeated. The army will be shattered for good and we will be helpless to stop their advance.”

Lothar gave some orders and the army began filing off of the hill via the narrow back passage.

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“If we withdraw now, we have destroyed one quarter of their force at almost no cost to ourselves. A few more battles like this and they will be dead and we will be victorious.”

The Duke of Bavaria looked at the Byzantine force that was too far away and too slow to prevent the Bavarians from withdrawing. “The Greeks will undoubtedly say that they defeated us here today.” He snorted and turned away. “As I said, they have the intelligence of rodents.”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[Zim]

Place holder for Antioch sally and assault of 1348.

[AussieGiant]

Outside Ragusa 1350

The Chancellor relieving the the siege of Ragusa.

https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showp...&postcount=264

[OverKnight]

Prologue

https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showp...&postcount=265

The Defense of Adana, 1350

Chancellor,

The Greeks, after being bloodied twice, finally decided to attack.

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I had a skeleton crew on the first ring. My archers and infantry were deployed on the second. My goal was not just to throw off the siege, but to destroy the Greeks.

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Of course I did not give up the first ring without a fight.

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The Greeks, despite the delay at the main gate, attacked on a wide front. Another reason I planned to hold them at the second ring, to make them concentrate their men so they could be more easily destroyed.

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I also wished the Greeks to waste their siege equipment on the first ring so their move on the second would be weakened.

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Using their ladders, however, they made it over the wall.

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This was part of the plan, I wanted them to gain entrance to the first ring. They hadn't brought in their cavalry yet, only when they had possesion of the first gate would this happen. I decided to withdraw my skeleton crew to the second gate to allow them entry. A recent loss left me distracted, and I foolishly decided to charge some Byzantine Infantry that had come off the wall. The charged failed and I lost many of my bodyguard.

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Still, the plan worked. I was able to shake off their pursuit and the survivors of the skeleton crew succesfully withdrew to the second gate. I ordered my archers to fire on the Greek infantry that had made it over the wall. They were milling about in the gap between the second and first rings waiting for the cavalry and what was left of the siege equipment. Many of them fell.

The Greek cavalry arrived along with most of the remaining infantry, which had a set of ladders and a ram. My Crossbowmen were positioned to rain fire down on them as they made their way from the first gate to the second.

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The Greeks attacked to the right of the gate with dismounted Latinkon on ladders.

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They were good men, but I already had my own on the walls. Their last ram went up in flames as well.

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The Greek Captain showed tenacity, if not intelligence, by refusing to retreat. A few more attacks up the ladder were crushed while my archers inflicted losses on their horsemen.

Their Captain finally broke, but still many of them stayed in front of the gate waiting for the last set of ladders to be brought in. They died for their stubborness.

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I sent the infantry and cavalry out to dispatch the remaining schwein. They met one last unit of dismounted Latinkon.

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They clung to the assault to the last. Their force crushed, they still hoped to bring ladders to the walls. A cavalry charge to their rear put paid to that.

All that was left was to capture the few who had the sense to run.

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I attempted to ransom the survivors, but I guess the Greeks have so many soldiers, they don't care about 500 florins worth of captives. With that, their army is gone. Though I hear rumors of another approaching from Iconium.

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A curse on the Greeks and the Plague. I will hold Adana until my last breath, whether God wills it or not. If I am damned for it, I will drag down as many Byzantines as I can to Hell with me.

Matthias

[Northnovas]

Vienna 1352

Johann Zirn arrived at the base camp outside of Vienna. The camp was in relative clean condition from what he had heard from his Knights about other camps. This army was clean but the men in the city were infected and it was unknown their condition with the siege conditions it could only make the living conditions beyond anything but hell.

Johann rode up to the command tent where von Hapsburg and von Essen were meeting. Johann did not express his uncle’s displeasure for the current command situation so he got right to the point. He had not fought with these men before and this was his first battle without his father standing by. He would only take one with him into battle the other must remain behind for a worse case scenario. His sister would not be pleased but he had chosen von Essen to follow him into battle feeling the security of a family member.

******

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It was a beautiful summer day and the Austrians set up later in the morning picking a hill for the artillery. The garrison would be coming from Vienna but would not be in the initial battle.

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Each general took a flank and the men were to hold the hill till the reinforcements arrived. Johann wanted the artillery to do its work.

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The enemy moved on the hill with great speed. The enemy commander did not want to try and fight to separate armies. The Austrians were quickly engaging the enemy.

“Fire those guns into the centre!” yelled Johann “Shot only no explosives!” A decision he feels he regretted later. The guns fired but the enemy was closing the gap.

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On the left flank von Essen was coming under fire from the enemy missiles cavalry and arrows were flying everywhere. To relieve the pressure von Essen charged his men at the enemy unit following them into the woods.

The garrison reinforcements arrived and the enemy Captain charged at the newly arrived units.

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They did not appear to be has sickly has reported and it was a costly mistake made by the enemy.

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The tide was turning for Johann but there was chaos everywhere. He lost track of units and the line was scattered from the Hungarian attack. He rode around attacking routing units and saw von Essen’s Unit that looked to be in good shape. His artillery crew was in poor shape has they ended up in a melee with the Croatian Axemen.

The afternoon was ending and the Siege of Vienna had been lifted.

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Captain Jacob approached him with the prisoner report. Johann was so impressed with his Captain a “veteran warrior” was promoted within Johann’s entourage. He will need more organization for the next battle.

“My lord, we have offered a ransom to the Hungarians.”

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Johann looked at his officer with a puzzled look. “Captain, I will follow my father’s rules of combat and release the prisoners unconditionally.”

There was a hesitation from the Captain. “Ah sire, Dieter von Essen is missing he was last seen charging into the woods. He may have become a prisoner.”

Johann was mortified he sat down and felt ill. “Very well make the ransom and exchange.” Johann felt sick to his stomach, praying that he would find Dieter.

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Dieter von Essen was found in the wooded area by his men. He had several arrows into his chest and his bloodied sword still in his hand.

[Cecil XIX]

Prague, 1350

“These Poles are too rash.”

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Edmund Becker was making preparations to receive the Polish assault. He observed the Poles as they were arrayed before him. They had a tower, a ram and a set of ladders at the forefront, with another ram in reserve.

“Three points of entry are not enough to take this city.” He remarked to Karl. “Not with Prague’s towers.” He turned to Welf, his veteran warrior.

“Place the Pavise crossbowmen and the knights to the left of the gatehouse, the milita crossbowmen and a regiment of armored sergeants to the right. I’m sure the Poles will send their best to try and take the walls, make sure the crossbowmen concentrate their fire on the knights attempting to climb the ladders.”

Edmund purposely descended from the walls, and arrayed the remaining infantry before the gatehouse. The army deployed, he addressed them.

“The Poles have an army comprised primarily of horsemen and various archers. With it they intend to charge through these gates and defeat an army of spearmen. Let this battle be a reminder to them that Bohemians fight not just for our lives and the Reich, good and just reasons they may be. We fight so our families and our property will be protected from the ungodly attacks of those who would take what is not theirs by force!”

A cheer arose from the army. Edmund turned to walls and shouted “Open fire!”

And so, the walls of Prague began the battle.

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Results were immediate.

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“Move the Knights to defend against the ladder; have the Sergeants get down here and defend the gatehouse.” His orders given, a rider came up to Becker.

“My Lord, Count Lorenz Zirn is once again riding to your aid. He is ready to lead the Bohemian militia and your levy which you used last season.”

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“Excellent. Confirm the plan with Count Zirn upon your return. The infantry will move to reinforce the gatehouse, while the artillery and Count Zirn himself shall move to flank the enemy. Have Count Zirn trap the enemy inside the city while the artillery attacks those other enemies who remain outside.

The instructions given, Edmund returned his attention to the battle only to find that the Ballista towers and destroyed the first ram. He smiled to himself.

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By now, the Polish knights were beginning their assault on the walls.

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“Have the crossbowmen target the infantry pushing that ram!”

Unfortunately neither the crossbows nor the towers could stop the final ram from reaching the gates. However, at that time Chwalimir decided to concentrate all his infantry on the ladders, leaving only his cavalry and the spearmen pushing the ram to take the gatehouse.

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“Target the General! And send those Sergeants back up the walls! Have them attack the Poles from the opposite direction of the knights. Send the crossbow militia into the fray as well. We must hold the infantry on the walls while we crush the cavalry on the ground!”

Finally, the Gates of Prague flew upon, revealing the Bohemian host ready to receive their guests.

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The Poles stormed through the gates, quickly creating a pocket large enough to allow some of their missile cavalry to begin taking shots at Becker and his guard.

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Not wanting to entangle himself in such a mess Becker observed the battle, using the weight that he carried to keep the hearts of his men steadfast.

But he soon began to worry. He watched as his men struggled greatly in the fight. It was expected that the town militia would fold quickly, that’s why he placed that at the front of the line to blunt the Poles impetus. But they were being destroyed far quicker than he would have liked. He had known of this army’s elite quality, which was why he had forced them into this situation. To think that this Polish cavalry, which had not even managed to get a proper charge, could outfight his spearmen like this…

Some good news came in the form of Lorenz Zirn, who had attacked the missile cavalry from outside the walls.

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Becker was glad that the shooting had stopped; he was worried his bodyguard would be reduced to below twenty. Then he noticed with shock and alarm that his bodyguard now numbered less than nine. Realizing that he was apparently in extreme danger, he was forced to order his men to fall back until they were out of range of the enemy bows.

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Meanwhile the battle for control of the gate continued. It was a brutal contest; the Bohemian spears gave them a powerful advantage, but the Poles were battle-hardened veterans and the Polish general Chwalimir of Chelm was inspiring them further. Every cavalry unit had lost more than three-quarters of their men, but they refused to break. Chwalimir’s bodyguard had been reduced to about a dozen men before they even entered the city, but although a few of his guards had entered the fray and died he himself remained tantalizingly out of reach.

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Unfortunately Polish fortitude won out, and to Edmund horror most of his force began to rout, and were soon cut down. Now with only four bodyguards, he raced to meet with Lorenz’s reinforcements, who were thankfully just marching around the city’s southeast corner. With the Polish cavalry in hot pursuit of him, he quickly ordered the deal with the cavalry while he got out of arrowshot. As he rounded a corner, he ran into four Polish retainers.

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Taking advantage of the situation, Becker and his men fought with the Polish retainers, kill the four of them but losing three in the process. Spotting a much larger wing of Polish Knights coming up the road, Edmund quickly retreated back to the main force.

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Upon his return, and as he ordered the spearmen to deal with his pursuers, he noted with mixed feelings that Chwalimir was in full retreat.

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With all immediate threats taken care of, he sent a scout to the center of the city. From that Edmund learned that a few men had rallied with a unit of reinforcements, driving off the rest of the cavalry and the spearmen who had manned the ram.

Edmund ordered the army to return to the gate. The Polish infantry had was still scaling the walls, and while a regiment attempted to climb down they were quickly cut down by the large number of soldiers waiting for them.

After that the Poles were content to get the rest of their men up on the walls. It was strange; they weren’t even firing their bows and crossbows. It seemed that with the flight of their leader, the Poles were simply stalling for time until they could slip away under the cover of Darkness.

Edmund decided that it would be best for his army if he did not force the issue. Instead he had the crossbowmen fire onto the parapets while the artillery blasted the Poles who were still on the ground.

While he waited for the sun to set, Edmund surveyed the carnage.

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It was with a shocking sense of dread that he realized he hadn’t seen Lorenz Zirn yet. He quickly rode out to just outside the gatehouse, where his fears were confirmed. Lorenz Zirn lay dead on the ground, along with his entire bodyguard. They had fought tooth and nail, none of them given an inch until they end. In his shock, Becker dismounted his horse, got on his knees, and lifted Zirn’s body in his arms. He began walking back into the city.

“You saved me again, Lorenz. That’s twice I would have died without your reinforcements.”

Once he was a fair distance into the city, away from the rest of corpses, he set Lorenz’s body down. By then night had fallen, and another rider had already ridden up to report to Becker.

“My Lord, the Poles are retreating. It… It seems the Polish General ordered all the prisoners his army took to be executed before he fled.”

“Damn them.”

“Sir.”

“Damn them! That’s three times they’ve shattered an army under my command! Two times they’ve killed the general under my command! By god, even victory feels like defeat when facing them!”

Edmund turned to face the direction the Poles had fled. To Breslau.

“Chwalimir of Chelm! I shall have my revenge!”

***

Later that night, Edmund was reviewing the results of the battle.

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There was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” He replied, turning to face the door. It was Klem, the man who had been overseeing the city when he was away on campaigning and who had joined his retinue when he returned during the Cataclysm.

“What is it Klem?”

“My lord, I have good news. I have been able to find a Physician who is willing to serve in your retinue.”

“A physician? This is excellent news. Tell me, what is his name? Where is he from?”

“His name is Lars, and his is from Arhus. It’s taken me quite a while to find some, as all the academic buildings in the Reich are gone, destroyed in the Cataclysm or sold by the Chancellor I cannot say. Fortunately the newly acquired Denmark seems to escaped whatever attention was the cause.”

“You’ve gotten a Dane to help us.”

“Yes Lord.”

“Impressive. I can see why Duke Leopold chose your grandfather to oversee Bohemia in his stead.”

[GeneralHankerchief]

Milan, 1352

"He's what?!"

"Sick."

"He can't be sick! He has a battle to fight!"

"I suppose that's why we have you as a second general, innit?"

"Yeah, but... why... not the Plague?"

"No, we don't think so. Just a minor bug. He should be over it in a day or two."

"So why can't we just wait a day or two to attack?"

"Because the campaign season is almost over. Another day or two the bad weather will start and we'll have to play defense."

"So why can't Kaiser Peter lead the attack? He isn't sick too?"

"No, he's not sick. But that would ruin the situation. Herrmann, we need BHA Otto to lead the attack with the Legion der Krone in support. That's just the way it's going to work."

"...

...

"*#%!" said Herrmann Steffen, squire, aged 18, and that finished up the conversation with Count Fredericus Erlach's aide. He turned, departed to his tent, and began to make plans for this ridiculous attack that he was somehow in command of, over the true head of the BHA Otto and the Holy Roman Emperor himself.

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If numbers were the only factor, there wouldn't have been any problem, because the Imperial forces greatly outnumbered their French foes threatening Milan. However, the problem laid in troop quality. HA Otto and the Legion der Krone, while capable fighting forces, were battered and not of the best possible makeup. Meanwhile, the French had sent one of their elite armies to invade northern Italy, perhaps hoping to extend their war against the Reich to two fronts. It was Herrmann's job to make sure that the Italian Front would be a quickly forgotton affair.

His army prepared, he donned his armor and rode out to command. Feeling something lightly tap against the protective metal, he looked up at the sky.

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"Rain," he said. "Bad weather will start in a couple of days, my foot."

~~~~~~~~~~

Count Erlach, dressed mildly, rode up to meet him.

"You ready?"

"Why? You wanna relieve me?"

"No, just providing moral support until the fighting starts. Then I'm back in my tent. The doctors are already mad that I'm going out in the rain to meet you. You know what you're going to do?"

"Yeah," said Herrmann. "March up, wait for Peter to come, and then kill 'em all."

"They've got cannon," said Erlach. "Waiting could be costly."

"What are you, the devil's advocate?" Erlach just smilied. "Besides, it's raining, which will affect the gunpowder, and there's a crosswind, which will make accuracy tough. We also hold the advantage in archers, which means that us waiting will probably hurt them more than us. I hope they're stupid and won't force the issue. Me and the Kaiser will just-"

"The Kaiser and I."

"Thank you," said Herrmann, voice oozing sarcasm. "You know, that's just what I was thinking about on the eve of commanding a huge battle when I'm not even a knight. Don't forget to use proper grammar when giving orders. I'm so glad you decided to leave your tent to give me moral support, you know?"

"Calm down," said Erlach, chuckling. "Go on with what you were going to say."

"The Kaiser and I will just sit there firing arrows until the rain stops. Elite fighters can't dodge arrows, right?"

"Sounds smart. What happens if and when they do force the issue?"

"Either prepare to receive or prepare to flank. The Kaiser's not stupid. He'll do the same if they go for me."

"Ah, so you're going in together?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, your aide gave me all that *#%! about me leading the attack, but when you're actually on the battlefield, that doesn't really matter too much, you know? I don't want HA Otto to get chewed up just for the sake of technicalities. I'll wait for the Kaiser, then we go in together and save Milan."

"Good plan," said Erlach, musing. After about a minute he spoke up again. "And if they charge you right at the start?"

"Then the boys had better hold long enough."

"Well, good luck."

"Yeah, thanks. Get well." Count Erlach rode off, leaving Herrmann to command.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

All right, I wanna get knighted, I wanna get knighted, then I can lead armies for real - no, I need to stay in command, don't go nuts, this plan requires coordination, if I charge in recklessly then everything gets shot and we take stupid losses - no, that doesn't matter, we'll go in and the Kaiser will go in, and I don't care how e-lite those French troops are, they won't be able to take the pressure coming on them from two sides - no, it's not about that, go in piecemeal and they'll take us down one by one, and besides, the Plague's everywhere, it's not like we can just replenish our troop supply - no, it won't make a difference, and it's time to get knighted-

"Herrmann?"

"GAH!" Herrmann looked around, startled. It was one of Erlach's escort, looking at him oddly. "What?! I was thinking!"

"I know, sir, but Kaiser Peter's men are advancing."

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Herrmann looked around. "So they are. Very well. Advance to crossbow range!"

With a lurch, the line moved forward, slowly, deliberately, in coordination with the line on their flank. A distant thudding sound emanated from the enemy cannons, and a second later a couple of spearmen laid dead on the ground, but most of the enemy ammunition missed their targets wildly.

"Test arrow."

A crossbowman in the front line stepped up, loaded an arrow, and fired into the rain. It fell several yards short.

"Continue advance."

March. Thud. Plop. Plopplopplop. Scream.

"Test arrow."

This time it found its mark. A French Aventurier fell face-down into the mud.

"All missiles FIRE!!!"

This time several hundred arrows were unleashed, many hitting their targets, some killing them outright. A second later, to the west, Kaiser Peter gave the same order, and the French army was trapped in a deadly enfilade.

The Imperial forces got several volleys in while the French forces shifted formation. It appeared evident that they were going for the Kaiser's army first, the more dangerous, better-led force that would damage morale more if their leader fell. They began to charge uphill, with Peter calmly waiting to receive. Herrmann, right as he was giving orders to prepare to flank, stood up in his sattle, transfixed as one regiment of Imperial cavalry countercharged the French mass, hitting some Lancers on their right flank. The roar of one man could be heard even on the other side of the battlefield.

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"That would be Cervole, the crazy nut," Herrmann said in awe. "Man, he must really hate the French."

There was a pause as he watched the duel go on, and then realized that he was still commanding.

"Oh, oh yeah... CHARGE!!!"

Some units went straight into the fray; Herrmann held some in reserve, filling them in as necessary when it appeared that a French regiment was doing better than it was supposed to. It was altogether an efficient process, Herrmann staying out of the fight, ordering his men in what would become a swift and decisive destruction of an elite French army.

Once the outcome had become clear, he finally personally intervened, providing the final hammer blow that shattered remaining French resistance and sent them running six different ways, to be mopped up equally as efficiently by the Imperial cavalry.

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In the end, little trace of the French army remained. Both Imperial Armies remained intact and still in fighting shape. Herrmann noted that his personal retinue suffered zero causalties, which probably meant that knighthood would be put off yet again. He didn't mind. The important thing was that the French were expelled from Italy.

Efficiently.

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[TinCow]

Bologna, 1354 AD

Sorry, no time for a full report. It was mainly a lot of cavalry charges, as the screenshots make clear.

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[AussieGiant]

Daruzzo 1354

From the Diary of Arnold, Duke of Austria and Chancellor.

Another season of under achieving!! Franconia is like quick sand, Austria is little better with the exception of Johann, plus my army commanders seem to like getting each other killed. Bavaria is hit and miss while Swabia is nearly paralyzed for a variety of reasons. And reason's don't come into consideration for the enemy. Outremer seems the only place where things can be done with any degree of certainty.

This was simple.

Intercept the relief force,

knock down the gates with the catapults,

kill everything in sight,

sack the place,

then leave. It all went according to plan.

The start:

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Team One:

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Team Two:

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The trap:

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The captain dies:

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Race for the gates:

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The catapults do their job:

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The second trap:

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Game over:

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Stats:

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Sacked:

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Nothing has changed:

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[GeneralHankerchief]

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

OOC note: None of these screenshots, save the postbattle casualty reports, were taken during the actual battle. At the time, I was too focused on winning and surveying everything to take good pictures. The screenshots you see here are my best efforts of recreating the exact circumstances of the battle based on my knowledge of what went on.

I have divided the battle into three separate engagements that occurred at three different times, much like the real life Battle of Antietam. This was done so partially because that’s what actually happened, partially for drama purposes. What you see here is the first part; the prelude and the central battle.

Milan, 1354
Part I

There were four armies:

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Kaiser Péter von Kastilien’s Legion der Krone, his personal Imperial Army, containing the largest consistent of Knights in the entire Reich. Bruised and battered from numerous engagements but with little chance of reinforcement, not if the army wanted to stay “clean” and plague-free; its veterans some of the finest fighting men in the world, always game for a fight. Commanded in actuality by Herrmann Steffen, the young Bavarian who had received so many accolades for coordinating a large-scale attack against the French...

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The Otto von Kassel Memorial Army, commonly abbreviated as BHA Otto, commanded by Fredericus Erlach. Aside from the Kaiser’s army, one of the only “clean” forces remaining in the entire Reich, its preservence being so desperate to the Bavarian cause, because, for it, there were no reinforcements...

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The Gerhard Steffen Memorial Army, also known as BHA Gerhard, commanded by its namesake’s son and Bavaria’s Duke, Lothar Steffen. He and its Tribune, Friedrich Karolinger, had been running around together since the Cataclysm, desperately fighting here and there, picking its fights, bleeding the Byzantines. A Plague army, it would be able to receive reinforcements from diseased Innsbruck, if enemy soldiers and the Black Death didn’t completely annihilate it first...

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The Byzantine Army of Northern Italy, named so after becoming the only de facto Greek army in the area. It had seen its compatriots gradually beaten back in the Bavarian reconquest, but knew that its fate would not be the same, not when it was composed of the finest troops in the entire Empire, ready to avenge its numerous defeats in Italy and the Outremer after the Reich had gotten itself back together. Anxious, but not nervous at facing three large armies, it was “clean,” fresh, and powerful, ready to break the Imperial hold on Italy forever...

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These four forces converged on the great city of Milan one fall day in 1354, ready to destroy each other and claim the lands between the Po and the Alps for themselves.

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The Central Battle

Herrmann Steffen, commander of the Legion der Krone while Kaiser Péter was resting, once again found himself coordinating and leading a massive engagement against an elite army near Italy. At eighteen years old, he had already experienced two major horrors of life in war and disease and had rapidly matured from the naïve figure that had entered the Diet only a few years ago. Although he was slightly more confident now that he had some experience leading an attack of this magnitude, he still knew that he bore the immense responsibility of seeing this one through. The lives of thousands of good Imperial soldiers laid in his hands, including his father, two other Bavarian nobles, and Kaiser Péter himself.

Herrmann surveyed the land around him. It was a moderately wooded, rolling area that offered neither enough cover or open ground to use either to his advantage. The only heights of any consequence were to the southeast, where Duke Lothar’s army would first have to climb and then charge down to engage the Byzantines. Herrmann’s army was north of the Greeks and would be facing them initially. Count Erlach’s force would come in from the west.

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Kaiser Péter, at Herrmann’s insistence, would be present at the battle to inspire his own troops and, more importantly, drive the fear of God into the Greeks. However, maintaining his right to the benefits of reserve duty to the end, the Kaiser refused to take part in any strategic or tactical discussion, trusting the young Bavarian to make the right moves. However, his aides had no such inhibitions, and for two days right up until the actual fighting began they had been fettering around Herrmann, offering unsolicited advice and suggestions.

Finally, with the two initial armies deployed, Herrmann called them in for a final discussion of tactics.

“All right men,” he began. “I’ve just received word that all of our reinforcements will arrive in a timely matter. This makes things that much easier for us, since we’re going to need all the help we can get today.

“My plan is to pretty much do what I did against France last campaign season,” he continued. “We, the initial army, will sit tight. We’ll draw them into a missile duel if necessary, but we will not engage them until Lothar and Erlach are up.”

Lothar, one of them noted silently, and not “Father.” The boy is growing.

“As much as I respect this army’s fighting prowess, getting into a general engagement without backup would be suicide. We also have to keep in mind that two large French armies are approaching Milan from the west and will probably have to be dealt with in 1356.”

Jonas, the Kaiser’s veteran warrior, spoke up. “How long will it take for the Bavarians to get here?”

“I estimate around forty-five minutes for Erlach, and about five minutes after that for Lothar. Maybe less if he hoofs it. We’re going to have to stand around and take whatever punishment they give us for forty-five minutes. After that it won’t get any easier, but at least we’ll be able to fight back. Forty-five minutes.”

“Easier said than done,” someone said.

“Damn right it is,” Herrmann shot back. “But it’s got to be done for us to have a chance. They come, we hold. Any more questions?”

Silence.

“Good, then get back to the Kaiser and tell him what’s going on. Once the Bavarians are in position, we move.”

They all got back to their positions and watched as the Greek army moved slowly in their direction. The Byzantines would pose more of a problem to Herrmann and his men than the French did. They were more numerous, more agile, and more adaptable to enemy tactics. They had a thousand different ways of coming at you, each method more lethal than the previous. They had excellent infantry and enough cavalry to shatter the hardiest of battle lines.

And they had archers. It was the archers the enemy commander had decided to unleash upon the Legion der Krone first, hundreds of foot archers, horse archers, and crossbowmen, each advancing upon the Germans, each firing with the air of one who knew his craft inside and out. There were enough men where was there was no break for the men in yellow in black; no blessed moment where the men knew that they were safe, at least for another couple of seconds.

“Crossbows, return fire!” Herrmann screamed. “Everyone else, for God’s sake, keep those shields up!”

“And when they shot their missiles, the sun was hidden by the multitude of their arrows...”

“Shut it!” Herrmann yelled. “Entirely different situation! Entirely different!”

But for forty-five horrible minutes for the Legion der Krone, one could not tell. All they knew was that they were getting shot to death by an army that outnumbered and outclassed them. They couldn’t move in to fight, for that would mean certain death. They couldn’t retreat, because, well, they were Kaiser Péter’s men and Kaiser Péter’s men did not retreat. So they stood, covering behind their shields, taking terrible punishment while their crossbowmen did their best in a failing effort to make things as difficult for the enemy.

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Of course, and annoyingly for Herrmann, the few people that seemed immune to the bombardment were Kaiser Péter’s aides, who were still flickering back and forth between their Emperor and the temporary commander, still offering unsolicited advice.

“Sir? Sir Herrmann? Do you think that, under the circumstances-”

“What?!” Herrmann snapped. “Is the Kaiser dead?”

“Uh, no sir...”

“Is he injured?”

“No, sir...”

“Then why are you still here? Stay with your Kaiser. I have things well in hand!”

“Very well, sir.” The man rode off, and immediately another one took his place.

“Sir, we’re taking heavy bombardment!” he said. “Too much more of this and we’ll risk losing our offensive power!”

“Thank you, I’m aware of that! I’ve ordered our crossbows to concentrate fire on their missile troops; it’s in their hands!” The second aide nodded, rode off, and a third took his place.

“Sir Steffen, we can’t take much more! We need to move somewhere!”

“Well, how do you suggest we move? Retreat?”

“No, not retreat!” the man sputtered. “Withdraw a bit. You know... out of range! Give the men some time to breathe!”

“NO!” Herrmann finally exploded. “NO, we are not withdrawing! We are not moving! If we withdraw, we lose time to fire back and the Byzantines with their horse archers do not, so we lose even more men and don’t make them pay anything for it! And if we do withdraw it means they will pursue us, which means it will take even more time for Lothar to get here and engage them, which means they get to focus on us longer! No, we are not moving! We are going to stand here and take whatever comes at us because that is the only thing we can do!!!”

After that there were no more aides, for which Herrmann was immensely grateful.

Finally, forty-seven minutes after the bombardment began, Duke Lothar Steffen’s army ascended the heights to the southeast, ready to hit the rear of the Greek army. To the west, several trumpets blew, announcing that Count Fredericus Erlach was in position and ready to strike.

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The Byzantine army split. Herrmann wasn’t really watching the entire thing and made little note of how many regiments went where. Mercifully, the barrage lightened up a bit as many of the archers were diverted. This relief did not last long, however, as a good portion of the Byzantine cavalry, backed up by two regiments of Dismounted Latinkon, charged right for the depleted Legion der Krone.

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“Prepare to receive cavalry!” Herrmann bellowed. “Prepare to flank! Hold your ground! They don’t have any reserves!”

The thunder hit.

Several men went flying; one landing and impaling himself on an unsuspecting Imperial cavalryman’s lance. There was a great lurch in the Imperial line, and for a moment Herrmann thought that the Byzantines were going to break through everywhere, that he had asked for too much of his army, that they were all going to be run over...

The charge stopped dead.

Herrmann blinked for two seconds, analyzing the situation. Then he sprang into action, ordering the line to be extended, ordering the Byzantine forces to be flanked. With the initial momentum no longer a factor, the fight soon devolved into a bloody melee, the Imperial infantry quickly gaining the advantage due to their superior numbers and the fact that they were fighting stationary cavalry, but then things evened up as the Dismounted Latinkon arrived...

“We can’t take much more of this,” Herrmann said. Nodding at the nearest of Kaiser Péter’s personal retinue, he gave his orders. “Blow the horn. The Kaiser’s personal horn and charge right into this mess. That should send ‘em running.” The cavalryman nodded and complied, and Herrmann watched as the great mass of horses and men to his right threw its weight into the fray. There was a pause, and then...

“They’re breaking!”

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In a few seconds, it was over on the entire line. Some men were routing, some men were withdrawing, but all of them were breaking off the engagement with the Legion der Krone. Herrmann didn’t bother going after the routers, knowing that his remaining missile troops would pick many of them off. The central battle, for all intensive purposes, was over, with a costly Imperial victory.

Instead, he rode around, surveying the battlefield for the spot for where his army’s intervention would be most decisive.

[GeneralHankerchief]

Part II
The Western Battle

Count Fredericus Erlach, Hero of Ajaccio, Overseer of Genoa, Commander of the Otto von Kassel Memorial Army, marshaled his troops in from the west as fast as he could. Having seen the makeup of the enemy army from reports, he knew that a lone Imperial Army would not be able to stand up to the constant shower of arrows and deadly weight of cavalry for long. Any time he sensed his army slowing down, he shouted for them to speed up and gave them some encouragement as well. It would be a tough day for his boys. They needed all the help they could get.

Count Erlach, a professional soldier, was beyond musing that his army shouldn’t have even been in the fight. It was holding land west of the city of Milan, watching the twin French armies approach, and guarding against any potential move they might make. They were supposed to stay out of this fight. They were supposed to have earned some rest.

That all changed two days ago, when word came that Herrmann Steffen had decided to pull the BHA Otto into the upcoming battle as well. Erlach remembered receiving the order, accompanied by an attachment of the makeup of Byzantine forces. He studied it for one minute, and then quickly moved into action. They had marched, not caring about preservation, not caring about the lack of reinforcements. They had passed by the meat grinder of the city to the north and continued marching all the way up until the four armies met.

BHA Otto finally stopped and waited. It was extremely disconcerting to watch and do nothing as the Legion der Krone was torn apart by the endless volleys of arrows, but Herrmann Steffen had ordered a coordinated attack, and Lothar Steffen was still not up. Looking through his field glasses and viewing the young commander yelling, Count Erlach surmised that one of the Kaiser’s aides was being told as much.

After a couple of minutes, Erlach shifted his gaze to the southeast. The heights were finally occupied by Lothar, Friedrich Karolinger, and the rest of the plagued BHA Gerhard. Turning his eyes back to the Legion der Krone, he saw Herrmann’s gaze fixed on that spot as well.

“We’re ready,” Fredericus said to his men. “Sound trumpets. Prepare to attack.”

BU-AAAAA BU-AAAAAAAAAAA

The army got a few paces when they noticed the Byzantine army break off into three separate parts. Erlach saw a detachment head up a hill; a fierce cavalry charge aimed at the center; but he wasn’t concerned with that. Much to his dismay, it appeared that the bulk of the Byzantine force was headed west. He would receive the brunt of the attack.

“That’s good, men, it means they’re scared of us the most!” he yelled, but he knew that he wasn’t fooling anybody, he wasn’t even fooling himself. Instead, all he did was brace himself for the upcoming impact and catch a glimpse of what was happening in the center; the fearsome charge had been stopped, thank God...

Too late, Erlach realized what was happening. The great mass was concentrating itself on his left flank.

“Uh oh...”

WHAM.

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“Right flank, swing around! Counter-flank! Reserves, move up! Refuse this line! Come on men, no time to lose!”

The orders given were rational and proper, but would they be enough? In a little bit the Byzantines would have to fight on two sides, but there were just too many of them, and they were too good... His left flank was rapidly disintegrating, the only thing saving it were the heroics of one unit of reserves, somehow arriving long before other infantry in the area. It soon became a battle of position vs. weight, and weight was still winning out...

Taking a deep breath, Count Erlach ordered his own escort to join the fray in a desperate attempt to throw a powerful counter-punch.

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A lot of Byzantines died, but the mass (for that was what it was, not being anywhere near close to a line) didn’t move. Soon Count Erlach found his experienced men, the battle-hardened survivors of Ajaccio, getting sucked in farther and farther.

“Get out!” he screamed. “Get out and prepare to charge again!”

The men turned their horses and rode for freedom, and found it a lot easier to ride back out the other way, for there were only a few men blocking their path rather than the iron wall of purple. Things got complicated, however, as after they cleared the Byzantines they ran smack into the Imperial wall of spearmen that was finally getting up.

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I don’t know whether to hug them or kill them, Erlach thought, for while the spearmen would certainly help in the battle they were blocking his escape, and the Byzantines behind him were closing in.

“Clear a path, dammit!” he yelled. “I’m not the enemy! They are! Close up on them!” It took some time for the spearmen to get out of the way, and a few more in Erlach’s escort perished fighting the Greeks to the rear off. Finally, however, things were righted. The Count was free, the spearmen were in, and the battle was now at an impasse rather than it being a losing effort.

Another side effect of the spearmen coming up was that Count Erlach was unable to charge his men back in, at least from the front. It was difficult enough to get them out of the way when they were coming at you from the front. Making them part from the rear, while they were locked into combat, was impossible.

Fredericus could only wait, not even able to give orders. Every single melee unit was locked into combat, and his archers were already firing as fast as they could. The western battle had descended into a brutal fight to the death, and the Imperial commander could only watch.

The fight dragged on, with Byzantine numbers and experience finally being able to tell. Fredericus Erlach’s BHA Otto, one of the few “clean” armies left in the field, was slowly being wrecked. Of course, the Greeks were paying a terrible price too, but they were part of the all-powerful entity known as Enemy. Enemy always had more troops. Enemy could absorb losses. Enemy had two fresh armies marching to Milan from the west. This kind of stand-up fight benefited Enemy, for while there were precious few reinforcements for the Germans, Enemy could always spawn more...

...a horn blew. Erlach looked in the direction. Intervention. Two regiments, two strong regiments of blessedly heavy Imperial cavalry, backed up by a good contingent of infantry, were charging straight into the Greek rear.

The escorts of Péter von Kastilien and Herrmann Steffen, fresh from their victory in the central battle, had committed themselves to the point where the most Byzantines were concentrated. Herrmann would deal with the consequences of choosing Erlach over his father Lothar later. For now, he had picked the spot where his intervention would be decisive. And when the initial blow came, several Greeks unfortunately agreed with his decision.

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Dozens of Byzantines went down. The two escorts successfully extricated themselves from the battle before their infantry joined them and charged in again, killing yet more Greeks. Count Erlach’s infantry, buoyed by these reinforcements, fought harder, abandoning their grim resolve in favor of a “let’s kill ‘em all!” approach.

Herrmann’s infantry arrived, further unbalancing the odds. Count Erlach found an opening in his infantry and charged in for good measure. Squeezed in from three sides by infantry and faced with three regiments of heavy cavalry wreaking havoc in their center, the once-mighty Byzantine mass broke and headed for the rear, running for their lives out of the one spot where they had not been encircled.

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Fredericus, spotting Herrmann, sidled over.

“A good day, Sir Steffen!”

Herrmann did not respond. Clearly, even the glory of having initiated the final charge that broke a good portion of the enemy army did not match up with the earlier horrors he had seen in the central battle. He looked around for a minute, analyzing the situation, and finally spoke to the Count.

“Count Erlach, I’m putting you in charge of my infantry. I want you to mop up; hunt and kill any routers you may find. Once you’re done that join us at the southeastern battle if it’s still going on.”

“You got it, Herrmann,” Erlach said, not sure if he should have said sir or not. While Herrmann did have overall field command of the battle, he was not yet a Count and thus considered lower in the feudal hierarchy. “Thanks for the help, by the way.”

But Herrmann was already gone, taking his and Kaiser Péter’s escort to the southeast, where Lothar Steffen and Friedrich Karolinger’s plagued army were fighting to keep the heights against the still-game Byzantines engaging them.

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[GeneralHankerchief]

Part III
The Southeastern Battle

The men of the Gerhard Steffen Memorial Army were the backbone of Bavaria. Others serving in BHA Otto may have denied it, and their commanders, Lothar Steffen and Friedrich Karolinger might have said that they were just doing their jobs, the fighting men knew it was true. Ever since the Cataclysm they had been the sole force in Italy fighting off the waves of Byzantine invaders. They had gasped at the ferocity of the assaults and mercilessness of the Greeks and gritted their teeth as they were slowly pushed farther and farther north. They finally rejoiced when they received some form of reinforcement in the form of Dietrich von Dassel’s battered Army of Light, and experienced as much agony when the brand new army from Innsbruck went to Swabia in a doomed cause. Various armies and commanders had entered and left the Italian Theater, but they were the constant. They and Lothar Steffen, and later Friedrich Karolinger, after he joined them from his Austrian adventures. They had plunged into a city, knowing full well that it was suffering from the Plague and that most likely they would get infected, but still did not hesitate, for there were Bavarians under foreign control in there, and rescuing them was far more important than their own welfare.

Late in 1354, the combined effects of attrition and the Black Death were catching up to the men of BHA Gerhard. Earlier in the year they had blasted a Byzantine army near the Po to, once again, help unite Imperial Italy. They could have stopped there for the campaign season, stopped there and rested, and nobody would have said anything because they had already fought a battle and their unit was one of the most blooded in the entire Reich. But they pressed on, propelled by their hailed commander and his tribune, because there was a much larger fight brewing near Milan and, once again, they would be required to keep Bavarians safe.

On the day of battle, the Gerhard Steffen Memorial Army entered the field understrength, tired, and sick, but still ready to - as they always did - fight their hardest against the enemy, no matter the odds.

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Count Friedrich Karolinger, riding along with a contingent of Teutonic Knights, looked back at his Duke. For all the critics of Lothar Steffen – those who had said he was selfish, those who said he was manipulative, those who said he had murdered Kaiser Siegfried – the Count saw only a man who was devoted to his House and his people. Time and time again, the Duke put himself and everyone around him in harm’s way, unnecessarily, to ensure the safety of others. Count Karolinger didn’t mind being included in the “everyone around him” category. Not at all. He trusted his Duke absolutely and shared his thoughts regarding the greater good. Would he die if it meant his cause would be greater served?

Absolutely.

Before the battle, the two men spoke. Briefly, for at this point in their lives not many words needed to be exchanged.

“You know, if they focus on us, we won’t be able to hold for long,” Karolinger had said.

“I know,” Lother replied. Simply.

“We can’t just pull back either, like that one time on the hillside when the Greeks considered it a ‘victory.’ The other two armies are depending on us.”

“We’re depending on them, too,” said Lothar. “It’s the three of us in it together. Herrmann knows it. He’ll see this thing through.”

“You trust your son that much?”

“Until he came of age, you were to be my heir should I have died unexpectedly. Now, as you know, I gave that title to Herrmann, but not until he proved himself against the French. You know me, Friedrich. I’m not one to give away things to people who have not earned them. After I die, Bavaria will be in good hands with Herrmann at the helm and you and Count Erlach as the senior commanders.”

“Hopefully that won’t be for a long time,” Friedrich said.

“Yes, hopefully.”

Karolinger looked back at his Duke, wondering what the man was thinking. If Lothar caught his gaze, however, he did not acknowledge it, instead ordering his men up the southeastern heights.

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The heights were not that steep, but it was still a harrowing climb for the exhausted men. Timing was key in this move. Lothar was almost certain that BHA Gerhard would be arriving on the field last. If BHA Otto and the Legion der Krone were to have a chance at anything other than a bloody draw he would need to be present quickly.

The two generals looked down from their vantage point. The Byzantine army was recklessly hounding the Kaiser and Herrmann’s army. It looked like it had already taken a pounding, and the hand-to-hand combat had yet to take place. Somewhere in the woods to the west lurked Fredericus Erlach’s force. A second later, trumpets sounded from that direction.

Everyone was ready.

From the heights, everyone had the perfect view of what was going on. They watched the Greeks split into three directions; some heading for the Legion der Krone, most heading for BHA Otto. At first, it appeared that only a minor detachment was heading for them; however, Lothar cursed when he saw what it was: horse archers.

“Jesus,” he said. “Crossbows, do something about this, will you?”

The Imperial crossbows set their sights on the Byzantine horse archers, which had now gone into their Cantabarian Circle formation, giving the Germans a lesser version of what Herrmann and his men had experienced some time ago.

This annoying exchange went on for some time until Lothar shifted his gaze away from the missile duel to the bottom of the heights. This time he saw a more determined force marching up the hill, ready to engage his tired men.

“Oh God, the horse archers were a diversion! Crossbows, concentrate fire on the infantry! Bring them down! Bring them down!!!”
The crossbows obeyed, but the crafty Greek plot worked too well. The swiftest of their cavalry ran down the unprotected Imperial foot archers, much Lothar’s chagrin.

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“Here come the rest of them,” Karolinger said. “What are we going to do?”

“Unspoiled infantry charging right at us,” Lothar mumbled. “Unspoiled, fresh, full strength, well-trained, battle tested. We have no missile support, Erlach is in trouble in the west and it looks like Herrmann is helping him out instead of us.”

“They are coming up a hill,” Karolinger suggested.

“Two more French armies are coming at us from the west. These freaking Greeks are tying up three of our forces and seriously testing us.” Lothar was still in his detached state. “Damn it, will this never end? We’re all at risk of infection, I have no idea how two of my noblemen are doing or even if they’re still alive. If we win today, I can’t even shake my son’s hand and tell him ‘good job’ because I’m afraid of spreading the Plague to him. My boys have done everything I’ve asked them to and this is how they’re rewarded, with a determined Greek attack that they most likely won’t be able to stop?” The Duke’s voice gradually went back to its normal tone, and then stepped above that. “Is it asking too much to get some *#%!ing rest??!?!”

“Sir?”

“CHARGE, DAMMIT!!! We may not survive this day but at least we’ll show these bastards our rage!”

With the encouragement from their Duke, the men of the Gerhard Steffen Memorial Army, the backbone of Bavaria, screamed yells of fury and charged down the hill. Ignoring the sickness tearing through their bodies, ignoring their general feelings of fatigue and exhaustion, they harnessed their fury and frustration at being denied the chance to simply relax and get better, to be with their families, to see their children grow up. They harnessed all of that emotion, all of that anger, charged down, and let the Byzantines know exactly how they were feeling.

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The charge was a glorious thing, and all of its participants were to be commended for their bravery. For a while, the rage and numbers and momentum of the Germans seemed to be defying the odds and pushing the Greeks back down the hill. For a while.

Time passed. The Byzantines dug in. The fighting continued. And ever so slowly, the Imperial forces lost their advantage. The superior, clean, rested Byzantine troops kept fighting, kept pushing. The glorious charge down the hill turned into a battle of attrition. And, much against Duke Lothar’s hopes, the exact opposite situation happened with the southeastern battle than with Fredericus Erlach’s duel in the west. The mood on the Imperial battle line turned from a “let’s kill ‘em all!” rush of adrenaline into a grim resolve, to simply kill, find someone else to kill, and keep fighting until you finally drop cloud of gloom.

The Duke’s various blasts of the horn, charges on the flank, and shouts of encouragement did little. The backbone was beyond such petty things. This was the situation they had been given, they knew what was at stake, and they would do their best to see it through, even if that meant every last one of them would die doing so.

Lothar Steffen was not particularly a religious man, but he found himself praying for something to change. His men did not deserve this. Not at all. And then he saw it: a full regiment of Dismounted Latinkon charging up the hill, on the opposite flank.

Is this how you treat these men? IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT THEM?! Punish me, not them! All they have done is their duty! “Karolinger!” he yelled. “Do something about the flank!!!”

Friedrich Karolinger nodded, and without hesitation, sent his escort into the mass of steel awaiting it.

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A quick and deadly charge, leaving the enemy infantry temporarily shocked, and in that moment an equally quick retreat, positioning to do the very same again. So it went for the men of Friedrich Karolinger’s escort and the Dismounted Latinkon, much like the final minutes of that cursed Battle of Bern with Hans’s glorious last stand, his cavalry wrecking the almost-victorious rebel infantry, transforming the day from a tragic defeat into a draw or even a victory.

Karolinger charged again and again, pushing the flanking Byzantine infantry down the hill, down to the point of the now-concluded central battle, where trees and corpses littered the ground, hampering the mobility of the Germans. The Latinkon were finally able to surround their pursuers, and the brutal melee began once more, for this time there was no escape...

Lothar watched it all from the heights, agonizing over what he had ordered. He wanted nothing more than to charge down and help his Count, his friend out, but there was still a desperate battle going on at the hill slope; more a grudge match now, both sides having bled each other out and now ready to personally slaughter each other. Lothar, as always, did his best to help out, to ensure that his poor veterans got out with some semblance of organization, but it was a failing effort...

BU-AAAA BU-AAAAAAAAAAAA

From the northwest, two regiments of cavalry were making their way to the hill as fast as they could. Even from this distance, Lothar could tell that the horses were pooped; their riders’ armor scratched, dented, and bloodstained. They were still driving as hard as they could. The Byzantines were broken, the central and western battles won. The threat on Milan was over, for the time being. They were still driving as hard as they could, for they knew what was still at stake. They were riding to save what remained of what was once a wonderful army.

The escorts of Péter von Kastilien and Herrmann Steffen struck into the Byzantine rear again and again, an agitated Lothar weighing the army’s need against Karolinger’s. Finally, when the enemy line had thinned to his satisfaction, he caught his son’s eye.

“Herrmann-” he gasped, “Karolinger – down the hill – center – surrounded-”

Without a word, Herrmann Steffen turned his escort back down the hill, driving even harder – if that was even possible – to where the battle had began, where the Byzantines were determined to get something more out of this day. They had already wrecked three armies – by the looks of it, BHA Gerhard had taken the worst, and that was saying something considering the conditions of the Legion der Krone and BHA Otto – and were now looking to take away the life of a good nobleman in Friedrich Karolinger.

A handful of Dismounted Latinkon were gathered around an even smaller handful of Karolinger’s escort. The flashes of the sword were slower than usual, more deliberate, each side being too tired to do anything more. At first, the match seemed to be even, a one to one ratio of Imperial deaths for Greek deaths. But the Byzantines had the numbers to begin with, and soon one to one turned to three to two, to two to one, until finally the last Imperial horseman, Count Friedrich Karolinger of Innsbruck, fell to the ground.

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“NOOOOOO!!!” Seconds away, Herrmann screamed in fury. The Greeks has shattered his armies, ruined many lives, and now this, now Karolinger. He charged into the Byzantine infantry with such a ferocity that, even fresh off their victory, they started running.

“No quarter,” he muttered. Continuing to scream and yell, he charged around singlehandedly, personally cutting down each and every one of the remaining Dismounted Latinkon that killed Karolinger while the remainder of his escort simply watched in awe.

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When it was finally over and the rage had passed, Herrmann sat motionless for several moments and then collapsed off his horse. He slowly rose, clearly physically and emotionally drained from the day’s work.

“The body,” he croaked.

Herrmann and three members of his retinue together worked to pick up the corpse of Friedrich Karolinger. Together, on foot, they carried it back up the hill to the southeast and silently laid it down at the crest, in front of Lothar Steffen, who had just finished off the remnants of the Greek forces that had engaged him.

The Byzantine army threatening Milan had been destroyed, but at a terrible cost. Almost two thousand Imperials had fallen that day, 500 more than the Greeks had lost. BHA Gerhard was finished as a fighting force, offensive or defensive. They were little more than garrison material now, and their morale was shot after losing Karolinger so late in the day. The other two armies, the Legion der Krone and BHA Otto, did not fare much better.

The Battle of Four Armies was officially over. But, that night, as Herrmann Steffen sat by himself, nursing a small fire, there were more battles to come. The two strong French armies still lurked to the west, not caring at all about the slaughter that had just occurred. To them, it was just a military opportunity, an opportunity that was sure to be exploited.

There will be more fighting, Herrmann thought to himself. There always is.

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End