This thread is for all Battle Reports. Any post in this thread which is not a Battle Report will be moved or deleted.
Note: Battle Reports can be extensive multi-part IC stories, but they can also just be OOC brief summaries of the action. The nature and length of the report is entirely up to you. It is encouraged that everyone post at least the final results of the battle, either typed out or by posting a screenshot of the results scroll that appears at the end of the battle.
One small step for a man, one giant leap for the Empire -- Methodios the Chivalrous, 1083
It was almost a week since Methodios and his men had set up camp near Durazzo… The day before Adrastos had come in reporting of the advance of Arianitis and Monomachos.
The night had passed and still no word from the Emperor… “Could it be possible that I somehow stepped on some powerful people’s toes by claiming to take Durazzo for the Emperor ?” Methodios mused.
Exiting from his tent, Methodios saw his men assembled according to his orders.
“Men… I will ride to the village and see if their captain has enough sense to surrender… I would not risk your lives for such a petty prize… Though if we must fight, we will…” The men cheered.
“Nikolas, fetch my horse… Sergios, mount your horse and unfurl the banner… We’ll both ride to the village and I will talk in person with the captain of the militia.”
Some time later, Methodios and his standard-bearer sat their horses fifty meters away from the first of the village sentinels.
Coming nearer, unchallenged, Methodios stopped his horse a few meters short of the militiamen.
“Call for your captain… I would have a word with him..”
“Vada a guardare per il Capitano” one of the men pointed to the village.
Sound of revelry could be heard from the village, bawdy laughter and women’s cries…
The militiaman went running towards the town square, disappearing around a corner.
Soon, a large burly man appeared. A large black beard covered the lower part of his face. His helmet was pushed back behind his head, tied at the neck by a leather tie. He was wearing a clearly unkempt tunic under a mailed shirt that had seen better days, several rings showing heavy signs of rust.
But the most incongruous part of his appearance was the two prostitutes he held close to him, walking with them arm in arm towards Methodios, letting go of them only to take large swigs from a tankard of wine.
Finally reaching Methodios, he planted himself in front of him, tickling one of the girls and pinching the bottom of the second, provoking drunken giggles from both women.
“Io sono chiamato Isidoro… Io sono il Capitano qui… Poi Greco, perché venire a disturbarmi?” asked the Captain, punctuating the sentence with a huge belch. “Why disturb me ? Want some action ?” This with a wink for Methodios, inclining his head towards one of the tramps.
“Capitano, I have come to ask for your surrender. Your Italian masters are far from here and you stand no chance against us. So surrender and you and your men will be spared… Fight and you will die…” Methodios answered, hardly containing his anger.
“Bwahahaha… You and what army… Bwahahaha… I fear you not, Greek… My masters’ gold is worth more than your empty threats… Turn around and leave us to enjoy your women and your wine…” Said Isidoro with a raucous laugh.
“You had better prepare to enjoy our steel, Porco Italiano…” Said Methodios before reaching for the horn, hanging from his saddle, blowing on it, leaving a somewhat bewildered look on Isidoro’s face.
The bewildered look turned to a look of fright as Isidoro noticed Methodios’ men coming out of the woods.
“Prepare your men” Methodios said, turning his horse around and riding to join his men, a last look towards the town showing him Isidoro running from the town square, waving his arms like a chicken in a panic, shouting for them to get their weapons and form up.
Isidoro managed to assemble his men in the town square, having shooed away all the women and put away all the wine barrels to clear some space and prepare to fight Methodios and his bodyguard.
Methodios rode into town from the east, the sun in his back.
Isidoro had placed his contingent of archers in the front with the support of his militia spearmen. The man was brave enough (or stupid enough) to be in the front rank of his men.
The Byzantine knights charged under a hail of arrows, most hitting harmlessly on shields and armour.
The impact of the kataphraktoi into the archers sent men flying, breaking their necks on landing, the horses stampeding them, those that didn’t go down being skewered by the lances.
Almost two thirds of the archers lay dead from that first charge.
The spearmen rushed to the rescue of their comrades.
Seeing this, Methodios ordered his men around, exiting the village.
Taking profit of a large ditch on the southern side of the village, Methodios led his men to the western side, hoping to catch Isidoro’s men unaware.
The plan worked flawlessly, Isidoro understanding only too late what was happening.
Ordering his men to turn around and face the new Byzantine charge and reaching the first ranks himself, only to be struck down and brought to his knees, an incomprehensible gurgle coming out of his throat.
Methodios ordered another retreat, the militia giving pursuit but unwilling to leave the town square and its relative safety for the small village streets that could become a trap.
Another charge finished the archers before the spearmen could react.
A second charge dealt a heavy blow to the spearmen.
Two more charges finished killing the remainder of the militiamen. Though one of Methodios’ men got caught up in the melee and couldn’t extirpate himself from the tangle of bodies that the town square had become. Surrounded by the militiamen, his horse was brought down under him and he got stabbed by the revengeful spears of the Italians.
Methodios rushed to his fallen comrade, to find him still alive though grievously hurt (OOC : This to explain the sudden return to full complement of the BG next turn).
One by one, the villagers came out of their abodes. Fearful to begin with, they soon recognized the coat of arms of the men and their Byzantine weaponry. The men rushed to the square, where taking the weapons from the dead Italians they began the gruesome task of killing every Italian still breathing. The women fell on their knees, weeping and praying, thanking the Lord for taking them out of their predicament.
The Kephale, the mayor of the village, came forward to Methodios with a small purse.
“My Lord, this is all we have. All that those Italians’ swine have left us. Take it as a token of our thanks for freeing us.”
Taking the purse, Methodios sensed that there was not much in it. “I’ll use it to start rebuilding your town, Kephale… If the Emperor wills it…”
As if summoned by the mention of the Emperor’s name, a messenger wearing the livery of the Imperial Messenger Service stopped his horse just short of Methodios. Jumping to ground, and kneeling before him he said “My Lord, I had orders for you to capture that town but it seems I am too late.”
“Indeed, my man… Rest a bit… Then I’ll give you a letter for the Emperor and you’ll ride for Constantinople.”
Last edited by _Tristan_; 06-18-2008 at 15:11.
King Baldwin the Tyrant, King of Jerusalem, Warden of the Holy Sepulchre, Slayer of Sultans in the Crusades Hotseat (new write-up here and previous write-up here) Methodios Tagaris, Caesar and Rebelin LotR Mexica Sunrise: An AztecAAR
*placeholder for assault on Canakkale(Dardenellia)*
Ekklesia Mafia: - An exciting new mafia game set in ancient Athens - Sign up NOW!
***
"Oh, how I wish we could have just one Diet session where the Austrians didn't spend the entire time complaining about something." Fredericus von Hamburg
At first glance, the Bulgarian rebels in Sofia had advantages in numbers and from fighting behind walls.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
However, a Roman agent in the rebel castle had found some residents who wished for a return to Imperial rule. Basileus Aleksios took advantage of this by splitting his troops. He would lead his own bodyguard and a regiment of spearmen to the rear gate. Senator Ioannis Kantakouzinos would lead the main body of troops and occupy the attention of the rebels at the front gate.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
While Kantakouzinos sent the Trebizond archers forward to fire on the rebels at the front gate, the Basileus galloped around to the rear gate. Opened by the loyalists, he entered Sofia unopposed with a regiment of infantry doing its best to follow. Aleksios and his bodyguard fell upon a unit of archers who, surprised by this tactic, had moved off the walls to redeploy.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Joined by the regiment of infantry, Aleksios continued to wreak havoc in the rear of the rebels. Though under horse archer fire, he managed to split the enemey forces and wrest their attention from the front gate.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Seeing this, Kantakouzinos advanced his troops through front gate. The rebels were now surrounded. Many of their horse archers, confined to fighting in the streets, had been brought down by Aleksios and his spearmen.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The Romans avoided the rebels rallying point and instead lured their leader out the main square by a false retreat. He paid for his folly.
Melbourne, Australia (but born and bred in Germany)
Posts
1,279
Re: Battle Reports
Report on Negotiations at Rodos
1083
Startor Nevelous and I have been sent to Rodos, former outpost of the Empire, to investigate recent reports of Governor Leon misappropriating taxes and inciting anti-Imperial riots in town. While I expect no strong resistance, I am anxious that between us, Nevoulos and and I have only a few dozen men.
1084
Have arrived at Rodos and been greeted respectfully by Governor Leon. He seems happy to have two such highly honoured guests on his island, but has remained elusive on the matter of outstanding payments to Konstantinopolis. I hope future talks will go well.
1085
We have spent an entire year on this island and now this! First having made himself scarce for the past few months, when Nevoulos and I pressed Leon about the taxes at our last meeting he exploded. Shouting threats to ourselves and the Empire he drove us out of his castle. I have taken charge of the port, and will block Leon's men from leaving the island, but I must write back for more men, if we are to take down this lout by force.
1086
At Nevoulos' pressing, we have fashioned a sort of siege of the castle. While Leon has more men than us, they dare not exit the place for fear of being charged by one of our Kataphraktoi. Unfortunately, this means that rather than taking lodgings at the port, we must now remain encamped around the castle. This is turning more and more into a siege, and I despise sieges.
1088
Comes Kosmas has told me he has sent men from Athens, but they have yet to arrive. Cursed troop transports take forever to get moving, and even once they do one sometimes gets the feeling it would be fast to have the men swim! Meanwhile the siege lingers on. I have developed a terrible cold and pain in my chest. Nevoulos doesn't seem to be sleeping well himself. And on top of everything, my funds are running out and we have had to start foraging for food. I told the men not to steal from the farmers, so our dietary options are rapidly becoming limited.
1089
The men are here! At long last, we can do something! A final message for surrender to Governor Leon has remained unanswered. I am sick and tired of this damn siege and we attack tonight!
Ιωάννης Καλαμετερoς
Report on Fighting at Castle of Rodos
Having finally received reinforcements, I decided to attack as soon as feasible. I had the men fashion a battering ram and some ladders. I do hope this will not be bloody. I hate assaults.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
I divided the men into two groups. One, under my own command, would take the battering ram to the main gate of the castle.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The other, under Nevoulos, would advance with the ladders, and try to open a side gate for his Kataphraktoi.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Unfortunately, my double attack was foiled when our battering ram caught fire after a particularly lucky shot from the defenders. I ordered my men back, and decided to ride over to Nevoulos to see if he was faring better.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Needless to say, he was doing a much better job of things, and his men took to the walls unopposed, and hastened to open the castle gates.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
That done, Nevoulos and I charged the Kataphraktoi through.
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After that, everything went fairly quickly. A few defenders tried to fight, but most threw down their arms and ran. Governor Leon was among those cut down, a fitting end for a traitor to the Empire.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
I occupied the castle without further bloodshed. I am happy to report the island is now under full control of the Empire again.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Long live the Emperor! Ιωάννης Καλαμετερoς
Last edited by deguerra; 06-18-2008 at 11:53.
Saruman the White
Chief of the White Council, Lord of Isengard, Protector of Dunland
"Rebel scum", Savvas thought, "Shouldn't be much of a problem."
A few moments later, his stomach, unhappy about those 25 goblets of wine the previous night, started to protest. Savvas crawled from his horse, fell on his knees, got up and stumbled towards a tree.
After having emptied his stomach, making disgusting sounds during the process, he slowly walked back.
His lord, Aleksios, stared at him, seemingly a bit worried.
"Don't worry, my lord" Savvas, looking as pale as a corpse, said. He continued, with a voice sounding like an unsharp razor blade: "We'll..." Savvas coughed, "We'll take this settlement..." Savvas coughed again. "We'll..." He spit out a few remnants of his last meal. "Ehm, whatever..."
Some of the soldiers started to laugh. Somehow, a commander suffering from a huge hangover, seemed amusing to them. The burst of laughter woke up Savvas who apparently had fallen asleep on his horse. He shook a few times with his head, slapped himself in the face and poured some water over his head.
"Ok men, let's hope those rebel scum have better wine then the crap we have been drinking for the last few months. Follow my lead men! For the glory of the Empire and for more and better wine!"
The soldiers sheered.
Savvas divided the forces in two groups. One group would attack the main gate at the south, while a smaller force, commanded by Savvas, would go for the east gate.
The enemy was surprised by this tactic and only one unit of spearmen guarded the east gate.
Seeing that only a part of the army was attacking the south gate, the rebels tried to sally and take the group of Aleksios by surprise.
An heroic charge of Aleksios forced the rebels back into the settlement. The rest of the army followed and the Byzantines were inside!
At the same moment, the battering ram on the east gate got through the gate.
All rebel troops focused on Aleksios and the main force of the army, leaving their flank open to Savvas and a unit of spearmen.
Savvas charged into them and killed Petros, the rebel captain.
Without their captain, the rebels soon surrendered.
"Like I said, not much of a problem."
One of the soldiers came out of a building.
"Savvas! We found wine!"
"Hurray!" Savvas cheerd, "No better solution for a hangover then a few goblets of wine!"
Savvas celebrated the victory with his men. The prospect of several subsequent nights drenched in alcohol made them euphoric.
Last edited by Andres; 06-23-2008 at 09:57.
Andres is our Lord and Master and could strike us down with thunderbolts or beer cans at any time. ~Askthepizzaguy Ja mata, TosaInu
Captain Fahim contemplated one last time the receding backs of the Byzantine kataphraktoi before entering the tower and the stairs leading down, hoping that the men were only a mirage caused by the merciless sun.
The men had come with a message for the Sultan and Fahim had no wish to act as messenger in this case. Bakr, the Sultan, had never been a mild tempered man but being cooped up in Gaza for some years now had done nothing to improve his mood. Far and wide, he was now known as Bakr the Merciless, as merciless as the sun that beat on Fahim’s plumed helmet, sweat running down his brow, part of it due to the sun fiery gaze and part due to the fear that wrung a knot in his belly.
Crossing the castle grounds to reach the keep where the Sultan resided, Fahim saw how much the siege had taken its toll among the men. What had formerly been proud Arab cavalry were now forced to fight on foot, the horses having long been cooked and eaten to sustain the garrison. Even though, many of the men had died already. Still, the Byzantine refused to storm the walls, to the increasing puzzlement of the defenders. In the distance, Fahim and his companions had witnessed the building of rams and siege towers but these remained far from the walls, unused.
But now, the riders had come and Fahim feared his world would change very soon.
Guards at the gates to the keep let him in without even giving him a salute. The morale of the men was low, as was expected, their mood sullen.
Making his way up the keep to the throne room, Fahim struggled to repress the tremors that threatened to shake him out of his boots. The message he was carrying felt like a death warrant.
Finally, walking in to the throne room, he saw the Sultan sitting gloomily on his throne, listening to some report by one of the court officials. The Sultan was still a young man with a lush black beard, a heavy silk turban on his head. Over his fine silken robes, he wore a cuirass and a heavy bladed scimitar dangled from a belt, resting by his leg. Rumor had it that in bouts of fury, the Sultan would lash out with this same blade, lobbing heads of the bodies of those who had the temerity to displease him.
Watching the blade, Fahim could hardly repress a shudder. At that exact moment, a lull in the official’s report allowed the Sultan’s gaze to fall upon him. Unable to curb his fear any longer under that malevolent gaze, Fahim fell to the ground in what he hoped would appear as a respectful bow.
Struggling to steady his voice, he spoke up, still looking at the ground. “My Lord, the Byzantines have ridden to our walls with a message… For you..”
Fahim heard the Sultan shift in his seat. “What message, fool ? What can those dogs have to say that is worthy of my ears ?” the Sultan said with barely contained anger.
Fahim gulped. Living as a soldier all his life, he had often contemplated death. He had imagined he would meet it on some sandy battlefield, pierced by an arrow or cut down by a sword-cut, with the heat of battle in his blood and the promise of virgins in the afterlife in his mind’s eye to soften his departure from this world. Now Death with a turban loomed over him, unforgiving and cold. He forced himself to swallow the bile that rose in his throat.
“Speak up, man… Or I’ll have your head off !!” the Sultan said, smacking his hand on the pommel of his scimitar. “What did that dog Stavros want ? An another offer of surrender ?”
Spurred by the threat, Fahim gathered his faltering courage and answered. “It was not Stavros, my Lord…” Stavros, Fahim knew, was the name of the Byzantine general that lay siege to the castle. Regularly, he would come forward with offers of surrender. All were refused. “The man said his name was Methodios Tagaris.”
Looking up at the Sultan, Fahim noticed his lord was clearly taken aback by the name. Tagaris, the butcher of Alexandria… The atrocities committed on the defenders of the city by the general had been the talk of the men for long months after the act.
Clearly shaken, Bakr asked : “What did he want ? Does he think that because he could kill a few peasants we would surrender to him, out of fear ? Pfah !!” Bakr spat “Here’s to surrender…”
Fahim slowly shook his head. “No, he was not offering terms of surrender…”
Muttering a prayer to Allah the Merciful, Fahim delivered his message to Bakr the Merciless “He said you must be the son of a pig to wallow in the mud of this castle and take pleasure in it…” Fahim said in a rush, before taking a gulp of air, and continuing. “He said you were a filthy coward, hiding behind walls manned by an army of peasants… He said you must be an eunuch to prefer the company of men to the company of your concubines… He said…”
“Enough !!!” The cry cut short Fahim’s breathless flow. A look to the Sultan was enough to make Fahim have a glimpse of the verdant pastures where the virgins were waiting him I Allah’s gardens. The Sultan’s face had turned crimson with rage, his features contorted by fury. He had drawn his scimitar and was now approaching Fahim with its point headed for the kneeling man’s throat. “I’ve heard enough of that man’s insults.” The blade of the scimitar came to rest upon Fahim’s jugular vein. Each beating of his heart sent blood pumping through the vein, the vein itself beating against the sharp edge of the blade, breaking the skin and drawing a pearl of blood.
Knowing he would surely die soon, Fahim told the last of his message. “That was not all, my Lord… The man said that if you wanted to prove him wrong, you could meet him in battle outside the gates. He swore an oath that should you win the fight, the siege would end at once and all Greeks would withdraw from Palestine. Should he win…”
“I know full well what that means…” The Sultan said, cutting Fahim’s faltering speech. Withdrawing his sword from the captain’s neck and putting it back into its scabbard, Bakr turned to his assembled captains.
“Men, ready your men… Rasheed, saddle my horse and my lance… I’ll shove it up his…”
The rest was lost to Fahim, as his mind tried to grasp the fact that he was still alive. He couldn’t believe it. He was alive. He would go back to his farm, his wife, his kids… He would go bath in the Nile.. He would…
“You !!” The shout brought Fahim out of his dream. Looking up, he saw the Sultan looking at him. “Yes, you… The messenger… You’ll ride with me in my bodyguard so you can point the man Tagaris to me… Understood ?”
Fahim could only nod, all his dreams of happiness crushed in a moment.
*******
Two hours later, the whole Gaza garrison was assembled at the gates. Lookouts on the gates had spotted the Byzantine general awaiting word from the Sultan some distance from the gates.
Fahim had been given a horse and a lance and was now among the other bodyguards sitting their horses just behind the Sultan’s own charger.
Relief was mixed with fear and caused Fahim to mutter prayers to Allah both in thanks for protecting from the Sultan’s wrath and in hope of salvation in the upcoming fight.
A grinding noise was the first sign Fahim had that the fight was about to begin. The noise signaled the raising of the heavy iron grate barring the gates of the castle.
With cries of “Allahu Akbar”, the men rushed forth out of the gates. Though reluctant to send his horse forward, the sheer press of the men around him pushed his horse forward.
“That Byzantine is no coward” Fahim thought as he witnessed the man led his knights into a frontal charge into the mass of Bakr’s men trying to assemble outside the gates.
Fahim watched with expectation as the knights were engulfed into the mass of men. The javelins of the Kurds wreaked havoc among the Byzantines, felling half of them from their horses. “Allah has chosen to grant us victory” he thought.
Suddenly, the Sultan stood in front of him. Lifting his helmet’s faceplate, the Sultan questioned him. “Where is Tagaris ? Point it out !!”
Looking into the fray, Fahim couldn’t see much of the Byzantine knights. Then, he got a glimpse of the man that had stood some hours earlier beneath the walls of the castle throwing insults at his Sultan. Fahim pointed. “There… That’s him !!”
The Sultan’s gaze went to where Fahim pointed and located his nemesis. Turning his horse with a vicious kick of his spurs, the Sultan howled “Tagaris !!” and with another powerful kick rushed his horse in that direction. The entire bodyguard followed pulling Fahim along.
The Byzantines had heard the coming of the Sultan’s bodyguards and broke the fight, running beneath the walls towards the safety of the besiegers’ camp.
With shouts of joy, the Sultan and his bodyguards gave chase. Bakr would not let out of his sight the man that had insulted him, insulted his manhood, insulted his honor.
Little by little, the truth began to dawn in Fahim’s mind. The Byzantines were not running away, they were drawing the Sultan and his bodyguard were they wanted him. There was nothing he could do but try to stay alive.
As they neared the enemy camp, Fahim saw the purple cross banner of Stavros flown by another unit of knight. The Sultan was so intent on catching his prey that he didn’t seem to notice the presence of the newcomers until they slammed into the flank of his own bodyguard. Tagaris chose that moment to have his men turn around and charge into the already engaged bodyguards. They were joined by a unit of spearmen.
Fahim saw the Sultan fall at the hands of Tagaris and soon found himself one of the only men accompanying the Sultan left alive. Knowing it was a lost cause, they broke and ran for the safety of the walls.
The Sultan had been so driven to catch the Byzantine general that he had cut himself off from the remainder of his men, and those were now running to catch up.
Out of the corner of his eye, Fahim saw Byzantine horse archers charge into the Kurds and rout them.
Some of the men, Fahim among them found refuge into the shade of one of the gate towers. The men around him beseeched their fellows on the other side to let them through but all the gate leverage mechanism had been sabotaged during the siege and needed to be repaired first before they could be allowed back in. Though not particularly a devout Muslim, Fahim found himself was again praying Allah for a swift repair of the gate mechanism.
Cowering into the relative safety of the walls gave him time to watch how the battle evolved. He witnessed as one by one the dismounted Arab cavalrymen were charged by the now much reduced force of Tagaris and his men, and how one by one they broke on contact, the man surrounded by an aura of almost mystical power.
Unnoticed, some of the Byzantine managed to reach the walls with their ladders and gained the top of the walls unopposed running to man the gates where Fahim and the routers waited for their fellows to finally open the gates.
They finally managed to get raise the gates sufficiently to allow the men to enter the castle before letting the gate fall down. “Make for the drill square !!” Fahim shouted as he passed through the gate. He knew the cleared space in front of the keep would be their best chance to make a last stand.
“And now, I’ve taken command” he mused while pushing his horse forward, seeing as he passed the catapult crew trying to move their cumbersome machines towards that same square.
Sparing a look behind him he saw, the Byzantines man the gates through which he had just passed through and begin to raise the gate anew.
From the vantage point of the drill square, Fahim saw Byzantine cavalry ride down the ballista crew that was desperately trying to push back their weapons towards the safety of the wall. Knowing the outcome of the charge, he lowered his gaze, not wanting to witness the slaughter of his comrades. A minute later, there was not one man left standing.
All of a sudden, the clatter of hooves sounded near the square and Fahim witnessed Tagaris and two of his remaining men charge into a score of assembled dismounted cavalry men. When the riders turned, not one of the lancers were left alive.
Fahim ordered the few men still with him forward and managed to catch one of the bodyguards, leaving only Tagaris and one of his men. Fahim was surprised to see the Byzantine general remain out of square.
But soon he understood why he stayed away as a deluge of fire arrows struck around him and plunged the man on his right to a fiery death.
Another arrow took the man on his left in the neck, the man spurting blood out of his mouth.
Knowing his life was forfeit, Fahim spurred his horse forward, intent on claiming the life of the man that had ruined his life and his dreams. Through the slits of his visor, Fahim saw the the general and his follower rushed toward him with their lances down. Lowering his own lance, Fahim ducked under the bodyguard’ s lance and unhorsed him with his own.
Just as he regained his balance from the blow, Fahim had little time to realize that the blade of the Greek general was headed for his throat and all faded to black.
As he felt himself fall unendingly, Fahim’s mind flew towards the green pastures of Allah’s garden. He could already hear the giggles of the virgins and their voices calling his name…
******
Methodios jumped down his horse and stood looking at the body of the last defender of Gaza. A peaceful smile was spread across the man’s face, his unseeing eyes staring at the sunlit sky. Methodios recognized him as the same man to whom he had delivered his message earlier this day, the first part of his daring plan to lure the Sultan out of his castle.
“May you find peace in the afterlife, messenger… May your Lord have mercy” Methodios whispered as he bowed low to close the man’s eyes.
******
King Baldwin the Tyrant, King of Jerusalem, Warden of the Holy Sepulchre, Slayer of Sultans in the Crusades Hotseat (new write-up here and previous write-up here) Methodios Tagaris, Caesar and Rebelin LotR Mexica Sunrise: An AztecAAR
King Baldwin the Tyrant, King of Jerusalem, Warden of the Holy Sepulchre, Slayer of Sultans in the Crusades Hotseat (new write-up here and previous write-up here) Methodios Tagaris, Caesar and Rebelin LotR Mexica Sunrise: An AztecAAR
Excerpts from the diary of Vartholomaios Ksiros, Marshall of the Order of St. John
July, 1152. After a surprisingly easy march through the the mountains and the desert the remnants of the crusader army have arrived with me to Damascus. We have invested the city, with the main force camped on the west side of the town. It is heavily garrisoned and I have no desire to uselessly kill any more of my men than I have to. I fear this will be a long siege to sit out. Scouts have reported sightings of a larger band of rabble that keeps roaming the countryside. Nothing conclusive yet, however. Might be just ordinary bandits.
August, 1152. It seems the band of rabble has some semblance of a military leadership. Whoever is in charge has more courage than sense, though. They didn't bother to coordinate much with the city garrison and are now chasing my outlying pickets straight towards our main camp. Scouts report that the garrison has also sallied, emboldened by the "successful" attack of the relieving force. There's a nice ridge a few miles out and I plan to give them battle there, before the two forces have time to merge.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The scouts most helpfully led our force to the best defensive ground they could find. Too bad that they didn't notice the absolutely perfect hill just to the south. The hill's southern and eastern faces are totally impassable, even by men without arms and armor, and grade gradually lessens to the north. I shall move my archers to the top of the hill with the spearmen and heavy infantry guarding the northern approach. It is just about perfect place to battle horse archers!
I have to leave the details to my subordinates though, the relieving force is almost here and I want to catch it on level ground with my cavalry. Cavalry forward!
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The cavalry attack went surprisingly well, despite the first botched charge by the lancers. The Seljuk spearmen got more kills in that charge than during the rest of the skirmish. However their brave but foolish captain also bought it there and that made the rest much easier. Otherwise it was almost a textbook attack. Vardariotai and byzantine cavalry hooked to their rear while the lancers and my bodyguard charged their flanks. Looking at the hill the infantry seems to be at place.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
There's still time for a few small movements and a quick word at the diary while before the enemy is in range. The cavalry will form a north-south line with large intervals to allow uninhibited movement and clear fields of fire as well as opportunities to charge. I am confident that we will have victory in this battle!
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The actual battle has been almost an anti-climax. Our archers gutted their horse archers from afar and had plenty of time to concentrate on their foot that was desperately trying to charge up the slope... straight into the maw of our Saracen mercenaries. Poor bastards routed almost instantly.
I had to pull in the cavalry line somewhat to draw the enemy horse into our archers' field of fire. Lancers had some casualties mopping up the rest behind the enemy line.
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Now it's evening and the men are sitting by their camp fires, recounting their individual skirmishes, thrust by thrust and parry by parry. The stench from the battlefield is not too bad yet, though I don't want to be near - or downwind - tomorrow when sun rises again. The captains have finished counting their men and we didn't even lose 50 men! Over half of the lost were from the lancers, some from their initial unhappy charge and the rest from chasing the horse archers.
The enemies losses are beyond count, 700 dead and twice as many taken prisoner. I have sent the prisoners in one long line southward, with enough guards to make sure that they keep going that way. I have no stomach to summarily execute that poor lot, but neither do I wish to fight them again.
Now I will retire to my bed for tomorrow we will enter the city!
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Last edited by Rowan; 10-21-2008 at 18:51.
Alphonse la Hire - Veteran of many battles seeking new employment
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Vartholomaios Ksiros Grand Master of the Order of St. John Prince of Antioch and Protector of Levant
Vissarionas ek Lesvou had been operating on the edges of the Empire for so long it was pure instinct on his part to avoid the attention of imperial agents. He had been doing it ever since departing Dongola, though travelling through Gaza a few had caught up and forced him to deal with certain aspects of his business in the world at large. Sending Stephen to the capital to carry on the necessary work of discrediting the false Emperor was the worst of it. Still, on the whole his journey to Medina had been perfectly uncomplicated, leaving his throughts free to expand on his developing philosophical convictions.
It seemed so obvious, here in the spare environs of the desert, that life must be driven not by what men taught, but by what worked. If men prospered by treachery and bloodshed then these must be the things that God found pleasant, as they were obviously the things he rewarded. God could not be defined by the fickle whims of alms seeking priests or manipulative administrators in his name, no more than he could by archaic books and treatise from times past. Who knew, perhaps God did operate according to those dictates in that distant time before, but what was certain was what could be seen successful today. Pouring out the blood of your enemies brought advancement, profit, power, and prestige... but such in and of themselves carried little interest for Vissa. These things were merely the tools by which one discovered God's will so that it could be worked in the world for his glory.
Vissa was pleased to see Medina invested ahead of him... and yet he was far happier to know that a foe still lurked out there to be faced.
The Fatamids, Vissa's sworn foe, were hiding on the heights south of the city, sheltering behind a confused mass of local rebels who feared Methodios and the Egyptians equally. This served Vissa's purpose perfectly, as it left the high ground west of Medina open to his advance and pinned the rebels to prevent their retreat. They were caught in a pocket, and if their leaders had been anything but fools they'd have joined the Fatamids or just thrown down their weapons and fled.
Yet fools they were, and there they stood blocking the southern road to Mecca. Perhaps they thought they were guarding their holy city?
As his army approached what would be their battleground the skies over Medina darkened. Vissa's troops picked up their pace, sensing their master's desire to find battle before a storm forced them to seek shelter. Vissa himself grinned a satisfied smile as the cloud cover grew ever thicker and the air itself hung dark and close. As they crested the final hills the black, dense clouds overhead were penetrated in only a few bare places by dim, orange light, almost like the flickering of a fire in the sky. Distantly blue skies could be seen far across the open desert, but over Medina the sky boiled with impenetrable blackness. Rebel flags were clearly visible from the top of the hill.
With the enemy now in sight Vissa's excitement heightened, 'Caught them moving across the valley in the open.' he thought. Aloud now he bellowed,
"Infantry at a run now! I want that rideline held above them and arrows falling down on them immediately! Guardsmen prepare your lances, let's see if these rebels have any discipline at all!"
Dimly Vissa was aware of bugles from the east as Methodios' garrison salled forth to his aid, but most of his concentration was on the enemy. They had minimal scouts out, perhaps finding few men willing to do the job, and were just now turning their formation to meet Vissa's advance. There were many archers among the enemy, more than among the Byzantine force. With a simple hand gesture Vissa indicated to his bodyguard the target, and they dropped their faceguards and lances nearly as one.
Muttering aloud to himself amidst the thundering horses Vissa mindlessly said, "I have seen the token of your favor Lord and I offer these lives up to you that you might turn your wrath from me and let me make an end of our enemies."
The rebel archers were just turning to flee when the charge struck them. Vissa and his guardsmen rode through the formation butchering the lightly armored men. The rest of the enemy archers, in a panic, fired blindly into the melee killing many of their fellows but knocking more than one Byzantine guard from his mount. As the spearmen began to wade in Vissa ordered his men out, "Back and form up! We'll wheel around and hit them again!"
A company of rebel cavalry tried to cut off Vissa's retreat, but their riders were too fearful to engage and merely showered javelins into the general's troops. A few more men fell, but the rest executed a perfect wheel and charged back in again. The second charge was almost too successful, annihilating the enemy archers and smashing deep into the spearmen who were struggling to guard them. Laughing now Vissa screamed, "Through them and out behind the formation! Carve a path!"
Shocked rebel spearmen, having never properly set to take a charge, now scattered and fled. Behind the rebel army Vissa and the remaining half of his bodyguard rode through a second company of enemy archers who had retreated to presumed safety. This threw panic into the rebel ranks, as did the approach of Methodios' archers from Medina. The two remaining companies of rebel archers and a half company of cavalry rode off towards Methodios' men. Again Vissa ordered his men to cut a way free from the mass of the rebels, and again they complied. Perfectly in time to prevent the rebels from getting off a single volley at Methodios' veterans a charge crashed in behind the two companies who had split off. Instantly they and the nearby cavalry broke off to flee, pursued by Vissa's guard.
The rebel infantry now bore the brunt of the arrows falling from the heights, and with Vissa chasing behind them they had no choice but to advance up the hill. Their discipline was somewhat better on the attack than it had been on the defense, and the rhythmic thumping of their boots echoed across the valley. Vissa's archers retired in good order to the rear while his swordsmen prepared to sweep the left flank after the enemy line engaged. Vissa himself was too caught up in the pursuit to notice the infantry battle developing to his rear.
Though Methodios himself remained clear of the battle due to his wounds his men were well trained, and the forwardmost company of his cavalry, the militiamen, knew precisely what to do. Mere moments after the rebel spearmen engaged Vissa's formation they struck the rear of the largest, best armed company in the rebel army, shattering the whole formation's morale.
The rebels threw down their weapons and fled. Far across the field Vissa and his men had to draw their pursuit up short when they sighted Fatamid banners on the high ridge ahead of them. Returning to his main body of troops Vissa ordered no further pursuit of the fleeing rebels, and reassembled his army to advance against the Fatamids. A messenger was sent to Medina with thanks and the head of the best armored cavalryman who could be found on the field, on the assumption that he was the rebel captain.
In the aftermath of battle under the black skies of Medina not even the knowledge that Methodios had once more managed to take some glory from Vissa's victory could shroud his happiness. Speaking to his men Vissa urged them on hastily, saying,
"God has shown us his blessing men! Surely we can catch the Fatamid dogs and cleanse this region of the Empire! Press on!"
Events proved not so simple, as the cavalry heavy Fatamid force retreated to a prepared position on a back ridge just as the brewing storm began to show it's force. Weary, battered, but still bouyant Vissarionas ek Lesvou was seriously contemplating marching across a deep valley even under fire when the rains began. Examining his men he found only the swordsmen of Dongola to still have the light of battle lust in their eyes, and so he ordered a camp prepared. The Fatamids could wait. The rats were running out of holes to run to; soon there would be only ashes left of their sad little Empire.
(OOC: I presume the skies are a bug, but I don't know for sure and it made a neat dovetail into V's storyline. Methodios' men didn't take any casualties but both companies of his archers got another chevron. )
The camp of the Corinth Army was quiet another day of the siege. Aleksios slept soundly……
However, I feel compelled to the Kaiser’s calling and Duke Leopold is looking for Austrian nobles to fight in the East. I have learned many things in my travels and educated in some fine institutions but it is learning and not doing. I can ride a horse well but can I lead men into battle? I have studied the strategies and tactics of our military men but have not fought a battle. How can I prove to the Duke that he has a worthy son and provider for his only daughter if I cannot fight in battle? He is the greatest General in the Reich! I do not want to show that he has a son who is a good administrator managing crops and taxes. I have to be able to demonstrate that I am capable to taking arms and fighting for Reich. You have learned me a great deal in life skills and the art of war was not to your liking. I will now take on a new mentor and learn what I can to protect everything that you have believed and worked in your life. The Duke's reputation precedes him but I am not concerned………
“General awake, awake the enemy is approaching!” Aleksios woke from a deep sleep.
“What?” Aleksios responded as he sat up already dressing himself.
The General’s aide began to stammer on. “My lord, a relieve force as arrived, the men in Zagreb have sallied and the Venetian Dodge has arrived with the second army. Our scouts did not think he would dare to break the siege.”
“Interesting? I would like to speak to officer in charge of that scouting party and why we were surprised like this! You know Gregory I had the strangest dream. I was the Count of Zagreb and married into an Austrian family belonging to the Holy Roman Empire. Quite strange yet intriguing, what do you make of it?”
“Maybe it is a good omen that we will capture the city and it will be yours but if you do not hurry there will be no victory.” With that said the aide grabbed the General’s weaponry and prepared him to get to his horse.
The situation was not has grimed. The Venetian armies had not merged and were some distance the Byzantines had the forest for coverage.
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The Venetian Captain marched from the hillside and was marching for the main road. Aleksios had his troops covered in the wooded area off the road.
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When the Venetians converged to the road a volley of arrows were leashed upon the approaching enemy troops. Confusion and panic ensued the enemy fell back and the Byzantines remained hidden in the forest.
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The Dodge was approaching cautiously the first Venetian Army regrouped but did not approach the forest edge. The Byzantines waited.
The signal was given and both Venetian armies moved into the woods supported by catapult and ballista crews. The Byzantines unleashed the counterattack catching the Dodge by surprise.
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The first Venetian Army routed and the Dodge with the second army began to falter. The Dodge was quickly surrounded and cut down from his horse.
The Venetians fled the battle field.
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The road was open to Zagreb and The Army of Corinth marched into the city. It was a long siege and the treasury had to be replenished. The town was sacked.
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Aleksios was satisfied with the results and quickly sent a messenger to the spread the word that a victory had been achieved. Can Venice be next?
King Baldwin the Tyrant, King of Jerusalem, Warden of the Holy Sepulchre, Slayer of Sultans in the Crusades Hotseat (new write-up here and previous write-up here) Methodios Tagaris, Caesar and Rebelin LotR Mexica Sunrise: An AztecAAR
Theo Ptezeas vs Sultan Sinan (The Turkish Sultanate)
Battle was fought near some Christian settlements. This gave Theo's men a huge morale bonus and this also meant that he didn't have to worry about food and water supplies.
Battle started with Skythikons and Byzantine Cavalry sending clouds of arrows towards Turkomans and Turkish Horse Archers.While Turkish infantry continued their march towards Theo's fragile infantry line Turkish cavalry had already been defeated and all of Theo's horse archers started to send volleys after volleys of arrows into the backs of Turkish infantry. Sultan Sinan tried to stop them, by attacking Skythikons, he soon found himself and most of his bodyguards surrounded by Theo's Skythikons. He soon fell after that.
When news of their Sultans death reached to Turkish infantry they first tried to retreat in order but finding themselves between Byzantine cavalry and infantry they soon broke. After that this battle was a massacre.
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Originally Posted by Sasaki Kojiro
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