Battle Reports

[Rowan]

Battle for Damascus, 1152

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!

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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.

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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!

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

[Ramses II CP]

Medina, 1153.

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. )

[Cecil XIX]

Okay, this is the real placeholder.

[Ituralde]

Defense of Yerevan, 1153:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Let me tell you the story of the defense of Yerevan. It was the evening before a night of slaughter and death, when Pavlos Chrysovergos rose from his chambers. He had shaved his beard as was his custom before battles and his divinations had led to this night being the right time to attack his enemies.

The Seljuks had come in force to reclaim their possession of Yerevan. They had taken over a thousand men with them and many of them were their feared Horse Archers. Quick on the run and ready to rain death on anyone who dared come near them.

It was the third hour of the night when the brave defenders of Yerevan marched forth. The brave men of Yerevan organized into Militias made up the center, followed by Peasant Archers. On the left stood the strong and mighty Dismounted Lancers and Pavlos and his cavalry of close to a hundrer came over the right.

The Seljuks abandoned their siege equipment quickly and withdrew into the hills. Not their Horse Archers though who harrassed our brave men the minute they left the protection of the City Walls. Many a man fell to the festering arrows of the heathen Sultanate!

Pavlos cavalry proved to be too few in number to engage the Seljuks in battle. So while one half of their mounted foes perished the other rained death upon them a hundred times. So it was late in the night when the enemy lines finally engaged. Beaten by an onslaught of arrows they followed their brave leader Pavlos into battle. Together with the Lancers he broke the left flank and soon the center.

The Seljuks were not ready to give up and encouraged by the arrows of their Horse Archers they came at our brave defenders again and again until hardly a man was left to defend our city of Yerevan. Finally the tide was turned and our attackers fled as through a miracle. But many a man lost his life that night to defend us from the heathen scum.

Pavlos Chrysovergos was seen kneeling on the battlefied crying to the heavens how they could have failed him such. Did he not observe all the signs proper and lead his man to righteous battle? All we can say is that Yerevan is save for now.

[Smowz]

Diary of Nevoulas ek Philadelphius 1156 - 1158

1156 - the rendezvous point outside Kythira - an island south of the Greek mainland.

Prince Isaakios is as happy as can be and is agreeable on attacking the large island if Crete to the south of us. We discussed little on matters of state, in truth our meeting was tense and almost hostile.

I have been asked to show patience by the Emperor on the matter, it seems more important to blood the young prince at battle rather than for me to talk politics and loyalty. I am uncomfortable with either, I am hardly a seasoned veteren but still I have an army in my possession and I am after all a mere servant of the empire.

My brother has been going over details of the upcoming invasion of Crete, I can tell his heart is not in it. In truth neither is mine there is something greater at work here - the empire is being torn apart from the inside and here we are with one of the better armies and navies of the empire invading some off shore island.

I am also bugged by my original promise to the men, to fight the moors, they are pious men they truly believed they were going off on a crusade rather than fighting fellow christians. They would follow me to the worlds end I am sure, but they would be more effective with some zeal behind them.

We shall approach the island in the next month and make a landing and immediately head towards the main settlement of Heraklion. Our scouts tell us, there is only a small force in the city, it is however one Venice's strongest commanders in charge it shall not be easy to outmaneuver such a foe but we have plenty of men to do battle with them.

1157 - The Fleet outside Heraklion

Despair. Curses to Salvo and his cunning.

The men are down, I am too. Our landing on Crete was met with suspiciously no problems at all. However the landscape was difficult to scout and we soon discovered that the cunning Venetian commander Cristiano Salvo has a well supplied hidden force awaiting in ambush near the city.

Tactically retreat was the correct thing to do, however many men have lost morale following such an order. Indeed when we returned to the ship, some were ashamed to look the young prince Isaakios in the eye.

There is a big question of what to do now. The assault of Heraklion is now a good deal more complicated than it appeared at first to be. The longer we stay here the more we learn of the Venetian legend of this Salvo that is leading them. He will prove a difficult commander to rid of. The topology of possible fields of battle are also going to be difficult to fight on, ugly hills and sporadic overgrown forests are adding to the difficulties.

The troops are weary, we have not been able to establish a camp on the ground. Even if we did, there is little foraging available for us. We are best off at sea, but the sea can be an unforgiving place with many superstitions that have been given birth here.

The portents are hazy, I am confident that we can win the day here but the cost, the price of victory may be high indeed. The is my folly to bear - i have argued the case with Isaakios and my generals we shall ride out soon with everything we have and play out this Salvo's bluff.

The time is now.

1158 - approaching the battle

Every man has emptied the boats. Alas we were better prepared months ago, the time has sapped at the mens strength. They follow me as they have before, they should be higher, more zealous than this and despite our best efforts I estimate they are only going to be fighting at 75% of their capabilities.

It is my hope, my gamble that a victory here will raise their spirits and have them believing in themselves once more.

My scouts have following information on the battle:



The enemies armies will only be split for a short while, the topography will make it impossible to split them. Our greatest obstacle will be Salvo and his bodyguard themselves. I have heard the legends, it has been hard to separate them from facts but I believe that there must be something behind these stories.

I plan to draw the general out and then attack him hard with both mine and the Prince Isaakios' bodygaurd. I will personally lead the charge - no risk no glory. Before this we shall wither away at the numerous spearmen regiments with the trebizond and horse archers. With any luck this will pick the mens spirits up.



My brother caught my eye as I solemnly passed my will to my scribes. He looked at me so sternly, he knows my plan and has objected to it in the strongest degree. He reminded me of my responsibilities in the senate, put simply he said that I cannot die. I laughed at this and told him that I was no more immortal then any man. I regret my laughs now, I know what my brother meant, he does not wish me to die and neither would many senators at home. Many have put their trust in me, but I cannot stand up in the senate with pride if I hide away from battles at the rear.


1158 - Postmortum

I, Makadonios ek Philadelphius am concluding my brothers diary here for future Romans to see.

I am travelling now to our family home with my brothers dead body. It is my sad duty to deliver a Eulogy at his funeral.

I am sorry for my short sentance structure - I do not have my brothers ability with the pen.

The fight went as Nevo predicted, with the archers gloriously cutting the opponents to shreds. However many of the men were hesitant when it came to their turn to fight. Nevo charged out to the front again and again killing the first armys leading spearman.



We moved onto Salvo himself. Or most of the bodyguard did, I was stuck fighting the damned spearmen. They proved resilient these Venetians.

Nevo shouted loudly but many of the ground troops were slow to respond they help up as Christiano Salvo gleaming armour came into view. He was I admit a giant of a man.

He slayed my brother by piercing a spear into his side, Nevo clasped the spear firmly into him snapping it clean in two as he fell. I managed to reach Salvo just as he thrust a second sword through Nevos heart. I was too late to save him - I managed at least to avenge my brother.

The cursed battle continued to rage and now it was decisively in our favour. We would go onto claim a heroic victory. My brother the true hero of the hour however lay stone dead on the floor.

[woad&fangs]

*placeholder* *Relief of Tbilisi 1158* *placeholder*