The might of Wales

[DaVega]

Settings:
* Vanilla Kingdoms expansion, Britannia campaign
* Faction: Wales
* Battle difficulty: Hard
* Campaign difficulty: Hard
* Manage all cities: On
* No time limit in battles: On



About this AAR:
This is my first AAR I’m going to write. I decided to write my own AAR after becoming very inspired after reading much of the existing AAR’s on this forum. First off, I have to apologize for my English language. It’s not my native language (actually, I’m Dutch), but I will do the best I can, and I hope you guys will not criticize me too much for this! I’ve been playing Medieval Total War 2 for quite a while now, and I think I can call myself a Medieval Total War-1 veteran after playing that game for about 2 years, so maybe that was of some help. I decided to start a game with Wales in the Britannia campaign of the Kingdoms expansion pack, because I haven’t played this campaign very much, and I was interested if playing with Wales was either hard or easy. I am going to break down my story into several chapters, each with a prologue and an epilogue. I’ll try to write my story as much as possible from a character perspective, to make it much more interesting than just covering all the events from a ‘third person’ perspective.

Please enjoy it and don't forget to post your opinion about it, or any new ideas that you have, so I can improve my style/story. ;)

[DaVega]

Volume I - Prologue



The year of our Lord 1420, August 12th
Montgomery, Powys Principality.
Main street, just past the main city gate.

’My name is Duwalyn In Powyff, and I’ve been a member of the royal court of Wales for several years now’, the man explains to you, after you have asked him for his name. ‘I shall tell you about the history of Wales, if that is what interests you.’ When his eyes fell upon the large number of scrolls in your backpack, a slight smile appears on his face. ‘I noticed that you are some sort of chronicler, for that number of paper scrolls is way too large to be an inventory list of one’s properties, ay?’ When you tell him that you are indeed a chronicler who travels across the country to collect all sorts of stories from peasant and noble alike, Duwalyn answers; ‘If you like to hear and write down stories, then you sure are going to love this one!’ After you followed him into one of Montgomery’s many pubs, you both order a few pints of ale, and the both of you settle down into a corner, close to a window with a nice view on the street which runs in front of the pub. Duwalyn begins to tell his tale.

‘I don’t know where to start really, but let’s start at the beginning of the Welsh Uprising in 1236. You must have heard of it, right?’ When you take a nip of the ale in front of you, you think about what you have learned from the monks in the monastery where you grew up. ‘Yeah, I think I can remember the name of that period in Welsh history, but I cannot exactly remember what happened in those years’, you explain.
’Have you ever heard of the name Gruffudd the Great?’ Suddenly, you remember what those monks taught you all those years ago, and you ask quite enthusiastic; ‘Ay, wasn’t he the king who decided to throw off the oppressing tyranny of the English kings, and forge a Welsh kingdom for his own?’

’Indeed he was, my friend. It was Gruffudd the Great who dared to take up arms against the might of the English armies, to liberate his people from the oppressing reign the English king forced upon them. He started his rebellion in the Welsh capital of Caernarvon by stating that "Any Welsh man who is forced to work under English tyranny is no free man, not in body, and not in the mind. From this day forward, I will free all of our countrymen, both in body and in the mind. Any of you who would prefer to stay under English rule, I would like to ask: Are you a Welshmen or a mere slave? ".’
’Not surprisingly, when this news reached the English king in London, he was infuriated at these so-called freemen, and started to assemble a giant army with which he could eradicate any rebellion that arose. Unfortunately for him, by the time his army was near the Welsh border, Gruffudd the Great had already liberated the fort of Pembroke, and the city in which we are now sitting and drinking ale. These liberations were relatively easy to carry out, because the inhabitants of those settlements were already very rebellious due to English presence.’
When you are finished with writing this story down on a scroll from your backpack, you ask Duwalyn; ‘And what happened to that English army, and Gruffudd himself?’
Duwalyn took a firm mouthful of ale, and sighed. ‘The armies of the English king and Gruffudd met on the Fields of Tatalyn in 1244. They were about the same size, and the fighting that followed was brute and savagely. The English king lost a formidable part of his army, but tragic struck the Welshmen, as their king Gruffudd was struck in the chest with an arrow from a English longbowman, and fell to the ground, mortally wounded. The outcome of the battle is still unclear to this day forward, because the English lost a very large portion of their troops, but the Welsh king was dead!’
You exclaim: ‘But how is this possible? We are still a great kingdom, and we still exist, and the battle at the Fields of Tatalyn happened nearly 200 years ago!’
‘That is because Gruffud the Great, God has his soul, had two sons by the time he was killed. His sons would become the heirs to his throne, and continue the legacy he started.’
When you have downed your first pint of beer, you are very enthusiastic to hear more of this intense and fascinating story. Duwalyn said; ‘All right, let me continue…’

A general overview of the Welsh Royal family

King Llywelyn
Llywelyn ap Gruffydd was declared King of Wales after the death of his father, and was so with help of his younger brother Dafydd. Llywelyn is considered the Hero of Wales, because his nerve to resist the English has made him extremely popular amongst the people. He raises the morale of his countrymen to such level, no average monarch can match him. Because he is the son of the legendary Gruffudd the Great, his authority is likewise very high. He was raised in the fort of Caernarvon by the best military tutors his father could find. Due to this youth, his military skills are nearly unmatched by English generals and kings alike. You expect such a military genius to be equally cruel to his people, but on the contrary, he is considered an example of chivalry. His relatively young age makes him a very promising king in the future, whatever that will bring him.


Prince Dafydd
As a brother to the Hero of Wales, and a heir to the Welsh throne, he is considered by many as a smart man. Like his brother Llywelyn, he was tutored by many military commanders, and due to this, he is seen as a very promising commander. He is loyal to the Welsh crown, and is not likely to rebel and carve his own path, like his father once did with the English. Although he had the same education as his brother, he is a more violent man, and can suddenly burst into anger for no apparent reason, earning him some dread in his name.


Rhodri
General Rhodri is a son of a honoured, but feared knight in the southern parts of Wales. Due to the fact that his father took him always on trips to raid small English fishing villages in the south, he earned himself also a dreaded renown, and is considered by many as a cruel leader. Like many inhabitants of Wales, he is very loyal to the crown, although he has to win his spurs in battle yet. He is well liked by Prince Dafydd, due to the fact that they are both cruel at times. For this reason, he is not the favourite general of king Llywelyn.


Maredudd
General Maredudd is a relatively old general, in comparison with Rhodri, and was always the right-hand of Gruffudd the Great, earning him lots of respect with the common-folk. Despite his old age, he has not seen fighting for a long time, which has cost him some of his military command-skills. After the former king died in battle, Maredudd took the responsibility of tutoring both Llywelyn and Dafydd, and is considered by those former two as a surrogate-father.


Madoc
As the son of a very rich noblemen in the court of Montgomery, Madoc has always been inspired by stories of far away lands and the folks who live there. Due to this, he was to become one of Wales’ leading diplomats, ready to do his people’s will.

[DaVega]

Please feel free to post your opinion about my AAR :)

[DaVega]

Volume 1 - Chapter 1 - An easy victory?

The year of our lord 1258, June 24th.
Welsh city of Montgomery.
Royal Council chambers.

King Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, also known as the Hero of Wales, was studying some old manuscripts which contained the detailed description of the battle of Hastings. This is what he normally would do on a day in which nothing special would happen. A long time ago, the military tutors who educated him in the military sciences and the art of commanding troops on the battlefield told him something special. “Those who study history, but don’t learn from it, are bound to repeat that same history.” Because of this, king Llywelyn has been studying military texts and strategies his whole life, which granted him a superb understanding of the art of war. And although he still had to prove himself on the field of battle, he did what has been taught to him by the same tutors in his youth; “A thorough preparation is half the work done”.

The past few weeks were surprisingly hot for the early summer, but the weather had gone from good to worse since yesterday, and it has been raining ever since. Suddenly the main door to the chambers of the royal council were opened from outside by one of the guarding lieutenants outside. Llywelyn had not anticipated this disturbance, and made a small gasping noise, which wasn’t heard by the man who entered the chamber.
’What is the reason of this disturbance, my dear lieutenant?’, Llywelyn inquired.
’Sir, Lord Madoc has arrived in the city, and asked permission for an audience.’
‘Permission granted of course, I didn’t expect him so early. You may leave now.’
When the guard had left the room, Llywelyn removed the manuscripts he was studying from the main table in the room.

’My king, it is a pleasure to see you in good shape again, after the accident in which you broke one of your legs a few months back’, Lord Madoc said when he entered the room.
’Madoc, dear friend, it will take more than just a loose branch to take me out!’
’I have no doubt about that, Llywelyn’, Madoc responded when he sat down on one of the chairs surrounding the main table in the council chambers, ‘you did send a messenger with words that you needed me, sir?’
‘I indeed did. Madoc, what do you think of the Scottish people?’
‘Sir, Scotland is a land of rough, but brave, people, who will bow their head to no-one except their own king of course.’
’And the relations between the Scottish and English peoples are not very good lately, aren’t they?’
‘They are very worse at best, sir.’
‘I think we have the same problems as the Scots, Madoc. We both share a hatred towards anything that is English, and we both are at war with the English king in London, although our war is official, and theirs is not. I think we need some strong allies in the upcoming decades, in case the English decide to invade Wales once more. This is were you come into play, Madoc. I need you to find the nearest Scottish settlement to the north, and convince their leaders that we would both benefit from trade rights, and if possible, an alliance. I know you spend the last couple of years in the fortress of Caernarvon, and I think you would benefit from travelling abroad, and seeing some new landscapes.’
’My lord, that would be an honour!’, Madoc exclaimed, ‘I was sick of seeing these same hills every single day anyway.’
‘Then go, my friend, and please return safely and with good news!’ Madoc left the room to find his horse which would take him abroad.



Later that day, king Llywelyn was writing a message to the closest merchant quarters in town, which stated that the Kingdom of Wales needed more gold and other expensive trade goods in order to fill her coffers with money. He demanded that one of the most cunning merchants in Montgomery was sent to the south of Wales, in companion with a company of miners and guards, and that he would seek out and set up a profitable establishment. When he was nearly finished with the message, a soaked man entered the room who was visibly exhausted.
’Mi-mi-lord, I hum-humbly request an audience with my king.’
’Captain Gwrgenau, I only accept that request when you sit down on this chair’, Llywelyn pointed at a chair close by, ‘and get yourself some air’.
‘Sir!’ Captain Gwrgenau took a minute to get his breath back, and was able to tell the king the news he had for him. ‘You send me a few weeks ago on a mission to scout the English border for enemy army placements and troop movements. I came here as fast as my steed could run, because the English commanders made a great mistake!’
’And what does that mistake mean, dear captain?’
’You must have heard of fort Cadwgan, my king? It is a few days travel from here to the east, on the other bank of the river Gwendyl, overlooking a shallow part of the river which can be easily crossed.’
’Yes, of course I have heard of it. It is placed on one hell of a formidable strategic location.’
’Sir, yes sir! The English must have been busy elsewhere, because a day ago they assembled all of the present garrison troops in the fort. They marched out of their fortifications and left the fort virtually undefended!’
’What? Are you sure there is no-one left behind to take care of the defence of fort Cadwgan?’ King Llywelyn had jumped to his feet once those words reached his ears.
’Sir, I am very convinced about what I and my men saw at the river Gwendyl!’
’All right. Captain Gwrgenau, you and your company of men need some rest. I’ll have to discuss this with the Royal Court.’



When king Llywelyn entered the throne room, all the members of the royal court who were present in that room fell silent. The king strode slowly towards his majestic throne, and planted himself firmly on it.
‘Dear members of the royal court of Wales. News reached my ears just a few moments ago that one of our enemy’s forts has been abandoned for some unknown reason. I will have to decide with your help what our best move will be.’
‘My king, what fort are we talking about?’, a young member named Agylias Hylwatyr asked.
When the king answered his question, the members of the court began to whisper with each other. Llywelyn raised his hand, and the court fell silent again. ‘I know we have been in a state of war since my father decided to overthrow his English rulers all those years back, but it is a passive war, with no more fighting since the battle at the fields of Tatalyn. If we make the wrong decision now, we could throw ourselves into a bloody war for which we might not be ready!’
‘Sir, if we could send messages to the cities of Pembroke and Caernarvon, and ask them to train some more men, we have a chance of bringing some more lands under our control.’
‘All right, send word to fort Wynfyd and ask for general Rhodri to come to Montgomery. He has to take my place as governor here, so I can take the army across the river Gwendyl and capture fort Cadwgan. I will leave him here, accompanied by a unit of Helwyr, to retain order in the streets.’
Agylias Hylwatyr asked the king; ‘Milord, and what of general Maredudd? Should we ask him to reinforce our ranks?’
’Nah, he has to stay in Pembroke to overlook the training of more men there, in order the English decide to attack our southern principalities.’
The royal court fell silent for a few moments.
‘Sir, should we send an order to your brother in Caernarvon?’
The king thought about this question for a while, and finally answered; ‘No, it will not be necessary to ask Daffyd for help. He doesn’t have any battle experience, and I don’t know how he will react when ordered to attack.’



A few days later, at the Welsh capital of Caernarvon, the heir to the throne of Wales was furious when he heard the news the messenger just told him a few moments ago.
‘What does that pathetic little brother think of me? That I won’t be able to command a few troops in battle? I did have the same military education as he did, for god sake! Doesn’t he realize that when he attacks fort Cadwgan, the time is there for an attack on the English-held city of Chester? Those English bastards won’t know what hit ‘em!’
After his tirade, his fury slowly ebbs away, and he turns to face the messenger.
’Go and send word to the troops stationed in the city and in the fort of Morfran that we are going to assault the city of Chester!’
After the messenger had left the room, Prince Daffyd strode towards one of the guarding officers outside of his royal quarters.
’You there! Send word to Deykin that I need his assistance in acquiring some intelligence on Chester. He has to infiltrate the city and find out who is the commanding officer, and in what shape the defences are we have to face.’
The officer marched away as quickly as he could.

At the same time, only on the other side of Wales, the sun stood high in the sky and was shining of the face of king Llywelyn. It was a very warm day, and the king was sweating like hell in his plate armour. This didn’t matter to him, because he had greater concerns to worry about. The units of Gwent raiders and Meirionnydd spearmen he just recently send to climb the walls of fort Cadwgan with ladders are halfway the height of the walls. They didn’t encounter any resistance on the way to the fort, and there weren’t any signs of Englishmen on the walls of the fort either. The Gwent raiders disappeared from his sight once they were at the top of the walls and were making their way towards the main gate of the fort, to let the rest of the army pass. Once they opened the gate, with seemingly no losses, their commanding officer, captain Voripor marched towards king Llywelyn to bring him the information.
‘Good news, my king, there seems to be no-one present in the fort.’
‘That is indeed excellent news, because now we don’t have to share all their beer-supplies with them!’, the king laughed, and he gave the order to all the troops to enter the fort.

[Monk]

Not a bad start DaVega. Will be interesting to see how far the Welsh can take their war of expansion!

[DaVega]

Allright, you guys, here is the next chapter of my AAR! I hope you will enjoy reading it I'm already busy with writing the next chapter, altough I can't say when it will be finished! Comments are still welcome of course I'm sorry for the small amount of pictures in this part, the next part will have a lot more pictures!

Volume 1 - Chapter 2 - Royal wickedness

The year of our lord 1420, August 12th.
Montgomery, Powys Principality.
Pub ‘The Golden Pig’.

After Duwalyn In Powyff finished telling you his previous story, he sat quietly on his seat for a while, thinking about what to tell you next about the history of the kingdom of Wales. He asks you; ‘ Do you know why we have a national day of celebration each 20th of January?’
You answer positively, knowing that January 20th is the day the great king Llywelyn the Honourable conquered his first city, and started to build his empire what his father Gruffudd would have wanted.
Duwalyn nods to you in excitement. ‘Yeah, on the 20th of January in the year of our Lord 1258, the Hero of Wales besieged Shrewsbury and took it in is fathers name. But a lot more things happened in that year. It was quite a turbulent year, ay, so let me continue my story.’
’Wait, let me get myself another paper scroll. The previous one I’ve used is nearly full I’m afraid.’
Duwalyn laughs and tells you; ‘I think you are going to need some more scrolls soon, my son, for the next part of my story is rather long…’

The year of our lord 1258, November 29th.
Pembroke castle, Principality of Pembrokeshire.
Royal gardens.

General Maredudd was strafing through the royal gardens, together with one of his closest friends, captain Ionafal. Although is was a cold winter, the castle of Pembroke was situated close to the Irish Sea, and because of this the area was under the influence of the warm sea-wind. Maredudd did spend more and more time in these gardens as the years passed, particularly in the winter, as he loved the sight of the snow lying on top of all the plants and tree-branches. He wasn’t as healthy or strong as he used to be, back in the years when he was the closest companion to Gruffudd the Great, be he was still an able man, longing to fight with his enemies once more. He didn’t know that wish was about to come true.
‘So tell me, captain, how does the training of our new troops here in Pembroke and in our other settlements progress?’
Captain Ionafal did his best to follow the general, but the thick layer of snow present in the royal gardens didn’t make it easy for him, as he was strapped in his battle-armour.
‘Sir, I just came north from Caernarvon and Montgomery to tell you that our new troops there are finished with their training and are ready for anyone’s command. I’ve also spoken with the heads of the architect-guilds in both cities, and they told me that they finished the construction of permanent paved roads between all of our major settlements.’
‘That’s very good news, my friend, because we definitely could use those troops for the military campaign in central Wales, lead by king Llywelyn. I just spoke a few minutes ago with garrison commander Cadwallon, and he told me that the training of the new units of cavalry and infantry we commissioned here is close to being completed.’
’Indeed my liege, but I was also send here by general Rhodri from fort Wynfyd to tell you that he had been send towards Montgomery to govern that city whilst our king is leading the military campaign against the English.’
‘That’s good to hear, I have no doubt that Rhodri will make a decent governor.’
Captain Ionafal swallowed and became visibly nervous. ‘Sir, that’s not the only message I was sent for. General Rhodri also told me that “You have to make sure that lazy-ass Maredudd distracts the English in south-Wales by any means possible, whilst we are going to lay siege to the city of Shrewsbury”.’
’Did he said that, my friend?’. General Maredudd was slightly insulted by the words of the younger, and physically stronger Rhodri. He thought about what he could do best to serve his king. Finally he said; ‘Very well, we will deliver our English enemies to the north the distraction they need. Send words to the commanding officers in the castle, Ionofal. Tonight we will leave this castle and head for the English-held city of Cardiff. It is time we reunite our brothers and sisters in that city with the rest of free-Wales.’



Meanwhile, in the middle of the Irish Sea, admiral Hywel was standing on the foredeck of his galley, which was called "The Spirit of Wales". 'Damn fog', he whispered to himself, because he wasn't able to see more than a hundred feet far in this thick fog. It is strange for such an amount of fog to hang silent on the middle of the sea, and they weren't able to sail past it in the first place because the fog surprised them whilst they were almost all at sleep.
It has been 18 days since they left the shores of Pembrokeshire, and the young admiral was sent on a mission to explore the shores bordering the Irish Sea. This reconnaissance would prove to be useful if they could find the English ports in Ireland, from which their enemies did send more and more military expeditions lately. He cursed himself for not being able to leave this fog behind them, and above all, for not being able to tell in what direction they were heading. This could prove to be disastrous, because they could wind up in front of an English port or sea-patrol once the fog vanished.
Suddenly, the man admiral Hywel did put on guard duty in the crow's nest on top of the main sail shouted; 'Sir! I see three ships in front of us, about 150 feet away!'.
'Good, that should be the supplies they promised us back home.' When the three ships got closer to their own, they could see a dozen of archers standing on each ship.
'Sir, they're not Welsh ships, they are English!'
Admiral Hywel's blood froze in his veins. 'Well, I'll be damned..', he whispered.



Captain Tegonwy was patrolling the walls and streets of Caernarvon, together with his squad of local raised town militia. They were making their way trough the main street of the city, towards the main entry gate, when one of the man saw a hooded figure walking just fifty meters in front of them. He was acting suspicious, looking from one side of the street to the other, as it seems he didn't want to be seen.
As the captain and his company of men closed in on this man, he suddenly ran away into an alley. Tegonwy ordered three of his men to go after him, whilst he sneaked around the corner of a local brothel, thanking God that he knew the same alley the hooded man entered, had only one exit. Due to this, the man was quickly subdued and was taken to captain Tegonwy for interrogation.
'I don't know about you, but we here in Caernarvon grow suspicious when a dark figure suddenly runs away from a normal street-patrol of soldiers. So please explain to me, why did you run away? I know we all look frightening and stuff', his men laughed, 'but there is no reason to suddenly run away.'
'Captain, I-I am Theodore Albane, and I am a son of a local merchant. I was given entry to the city by the guards at the gate!'
'Well, we two are going to check about that.' Tegonwy ordered one of his men to take Theodore to the guards at the main gate, who were all standing at attention.
'You there!', as captain Tegonwy pointed at one of the guards, 'did you gave this man entry to the city in the past hour?'
The guard looked a bit surprised, as he studied the face of the man they held hostage. 'Sir, I don't think we did sir!'
'So, you lied to us then, Theodore. I don't know who you are, but we will take you to the cellars of our fortress, and trust me, we will find out who you are, and what you were doing here, sneaking into our city.' It was going to be a bloody and painful time for this man..

King Llywelyn was leaving fort Cadwgan in company with his assaulting force, and was heading to the south-east were the English-held city of Shrewsbury was located, when a messenger delivered him word of the aggressive behaviour of his younger brother. This came not as a surprise to him, because he knew his brother since his birth, and he knew how aggressive he could be.
‘Damn, how could my own brother deny my direct order of holding the fort of Caernarvon? I am the king of Wales for God sake! Does he question my authority?’
The messenger, slightly nervous, answered; ‘My lord, I don’t think he questions your authority, but he simply was upset that he would be denied a battle, whilst the rest of our forces were fighting the English all over the country.’
The king thought for a moment, and answered after a while; ‘Yeah I think I couldn’t handle the situation if was in the position of my brother. We could use his aggressiveness. If he attacks the English to the north of us, they will be too busy to reinforce their troops around Shrewsbury.’



A few days later, the Hero of Wales arrived at the small city of Shrewsbury, and was preparing for a prolonged siege, when a small group of men marched out of the city.
‘What are they thinking? Do they really think they could defeat our forces with that?’ But then they saw the white flag one of the soldiers was carrying. ‘Ah, it seems they want to talk.’

‘My honourable king of Wales, I am sir Gower, head of the city council of Shrewsbury, and I like to discuss our terms.’, the man explained to the king after they arrived at the royal tent in which the king was planning the siege.
’What terms my friend? I didn’t offer you any, did I?’
‘My lord, I didn’t want to insult you in any way. I just came here to offer you the hand of my daughter!’
’What good is the hand of your daughter? Is the rest of her body still attached to it?’ The rest of the Welsh soldiers who were present in the tent laughed.
‘Yes of course, sir! But I humbly request that you marry my daughter, and please leave our city alone!’
The king thought about that, about marrying the daughter of an English noble, and when a plan emerged in his head, a little smile appeared on his face. ‘All right, I will marry your daughter, sir Longarm, and for that, we will leave you alone!’
The head of the city council fell on his knees when he heard this, and was planning on kissing the kings feet. But the king refused to let an Englishmen kiss his very own feet, and threw the man backwards. ‘Don’t you even think about kissing my feet, you English pig! Go back into your city and send word to your daughter that she is going to get married soon!’

When the daughter of sir Gower entered the royal tent, everyone fell silent. She was a very beautiful women, although she was English of course, with curly blond hair and blue eyes. She walked towards king Llywelyn, and stood still in front of him.
‘King Llywelyn of Wales, I am Gwefryl of Gower, and I was send here on my fathers request. It will be an honour to marry you!’
The king’s heart seemed to melt at the sight of the beautiful girl, and was suddenly much weaker in words then he used to be.



After an hour, when the king and Gwefryl were talking privately in his tent, captain Voripor was ordered into the tent.
’Sir, you wanted to talk to me?’
’Yeah I do. Captain, tell your men to get ready for a siege, we will start in a couple of hours in the middle of the night when they least expect it!’
‘Sir, but I thought we would leave the city alone after you agreed to marry lady Gower?’
’I know, but we did leave them alone, haven’t you noticed? We are already sitting here idle for a couple of hours. They didn’t specify the exact amount of time the wished to be left alone!’
The captain laughed when he heard the wicked plan of the king. ‘No sir, they did not! I will order the men to get battle-ready!’

[DaVega]

Good news! I found myself some spare time (an hour or two), so I decided to type the next chapter As always, enjoy reading it! ;-)

Volume 1 - Chapter 3 - The road to victory

The year of our lord 1420, August 12th.
Montgomery, Powys Principality.
Pub ‘The Golden Pig’.

You think a while about what king Llywelyn did in the previous part of Duwalyn’s story. Didn’t he have any honour? ‘ I thought king Llywelyn was known as being ‘The honourable’’?, you ask Duwalyn. He stares in your eyes for a while, and finally explains to you why the king broke his promise of not assaulting the city of Shrewsbury, after being offered a marriage with the daughter of the head of the city council.
‘Dear friend, do you know what the English king ordered his men to do when they assaulted the city of Pembroke? When they started their conquest of our motherland?’
You sense some horrible story coming, but you don’t know what happened back then, so you answer negatively.
‘The English king asked for the city council to come out of the city for an diplomatic meeting with his ambassadors, under the sway of a white flag. Not expecting any kind of dishonourable deed, the city council did as he asked, intending on sparing the city’s inhabitants.’ Duwalyn sighed. ‘Two hours later, the heads of all members of the council were catapulted over the city walls.’
You are disgusted by this low-hearted and evil betrayal on part of the English king. ‘So now you know why king Llywelyn did not trust any kind of English diplomacy, and felt not dishonoured by his deed. He felt as taking revenge for those council members who were killed all those years ago. King Llywelyn continued his campaign with two almost simultaneous battles. The first of these battles was the battle of Chesterfield…’.

The year of our Lord 1259, January 20th.
Military camp three hours northeast of Chester, Chestershire.
Perimeter of patrolled area outside the camp.

The two men who were sent by Prince Dafydd to explore the city of Chester and it’s surrounding countryside hastily returned from their exploration trip. It was a cold evening, and the sun went under the horizon just an hour ago. Snow was lying on top of every tree and plant and the men were careful to erase their footsteps in the snow, in case if someone was following them. They were trained in the fine art of stealth and exploring enemy territory, so they definitely knew what they were doing.
Once they reached the edge of the military camp established by the prince, they let down their guard and walked with normal speed towards the centre of the camp. They were spotted by one of the patrolling officers who recognized them almost instantly. He nodded towards the pair, and said; ‘You both know in which tent the prince resides. Good luck!’

The moment they entered the royal tent, the prince stood up from his seat and said joyfully; ‘Ah there you are, my most skilled scouts. Please report your findings to me!’
The tallest of the two scouts coughed and started to make his report. ‘My prince, I do not know if the English spotted our troops in the field, or if they did it independent of us, but almost an hour ago the main garrison of Chester sallied out of the city, and were marching in a direction towards our camp!’
Prince Dafydd was surprised to hear this. ‘I don’t think they know that were are located here, otherwise they would have attacked during daytime. Attacking an entrenched army in the middle of the night in this thick forest is downright suicide. But it does not matter whether they know we are here or not, I would prefer to attack them in the open, instead of attacking them whilst they are defending Chester. Can you estimate their strength?’
‘Sir, they left some men behind in the city, so I would estimate their numbers around seven hundred. I am also glad to report that general Alan la Zouche was not with the men who sallied out of the city!’
‘Then they surely do not know our presence here. Those troops must be on their way to reinforce the area which is being attacked by my brother, the king.’ The prince strode towards a statue in the tent which was holding his decorative battle armour and weaponry. ‘Send words to the commanding officers, and ask them to make our troops ready for war. We will march out of our camp in half an hour!’



For the past hour, the troops under the command of prince Daffyd had marched through thick forests and hills in north-eastern Wales, before they were commanded to stop. They had been marching in battle formation which was typical for an army in that time. Ranged troops in rows of three man thick in front of the army, followed by the main line of infantry. The bodyguards of the prince himself, and a unit of heavy cavalry both protected the flanks of the men on foot. The line of archers consisted of Helwyr, Wales’ finest longbowmen, trained in the art of delivering a deadly barrage of arrows well over three hundred meter away. They could be the best archers by far in the whole of Britannia. Daffyd’s infantry force consisted of spearmen from the principality of Meirionnydd, as well as local town militia, Gwent raiders, and some hired Welsh spearmen. In total, there were about 1100 Welshmen present at the battle of Chesterfield.
At the other side of the battlefield, the English troops under the command of the veteran captain Loefwine assembled in a similar formation as the Welsh, although he and his light cavalry preferred to hide behind his combined shield of archers and infantry. This is probably due to the cowardness of the English, or Loefwine’s plan to run the Welsh down once they started routing. Captain Loefwine was surprised once they saw the army of Wales, but due to his long military training, he quickly ordered his men into battle formation, and waited what his Welsh adversary would do. His men included longbowmen, which are, ironically, based upon the Welsh longbowmen, as well as a combined infantry line of Chester’s town and spear militias.

Prince Dafydd ordered his horse to march along the line of his army, whilst his loyal bodyguard remained at the flank of his troops. He marched towards the centre of the infantry line and stopped there. He was utmost proud to see so much of his countrymen under his command, ready to do his bidding. He was determined to prove himself today, for himself, his brother, and all people in the kingdom of Wales!
‘It offends my eye that I should be forced to gaze upon such an unwashed and ignorant bunch of scrofulous, poxed knaves and villains. Men, I give you your enemies for the coming battle! I have rarely seen such a collection of worms and beetles beyond the dusty walls of a scriptorium! Let’s be at it, in case their stupidity should prove infectious!’. The speech of prince Dafydd would prove to be legendary one day.

’Captain Custennin, I want you and your Helwyr forward, about 30 feet, and spread out. If those English archers open fire, I do not want you to suffer large casualties. Ignite the tips of your arrows, in order to estimate the range of your men, and to make those pigs burn!’
Once Custennin had moved up his line of archers, he turned at his spot and looked at Dafydd. He looked back at the captain, seeing the grim determination in his eyes. ‘Men! Prepare your bows!’. All of the Helwyr stretched their bows. ‘Aim!’ The archers simultaneously aimed their arrows towards the sky. ‘Fire!’



It was as if hell itself was unleashed, as three hundred ignited arrows simultaneously made their way across the dark night sky. Once the barrage of arrows closed in on the English longbowmen, the prince commanded captain Custennin, and all of the commanders under his command to fire at will at the English troops. By this time the first volley of arrows hit the English front lines. Even from a hundred and fifty meters away, the Welsh troops could see English archers who caught fire and the could hear their blood-chilling screams. It was not long before a second volley was unleashed upon the English army, but by that time, the English longbowmen had their answer ready and fired a returning volley against the Helwyr. Although prince Dafydd had ordered his archers to stand at a loose formation, the English arrows proved to be present in overwhelming numbers, and about a dozen brave Helwyr fell to the ground, mortally wounded. By the time the archers had fired their third volley, and absorbed yet another volley of English arrows, prince Dafydd could see the English line of infantry making their way through their archers. He knew it was time to send in his infantry to counter theirs.
‘Captain Gronw!’ He shouted towards the spearmen from Meirionnydd.
‘Sir?’, was his answer.
‘You see those English bastards making their way across the field? Make them disappear!’
At the same time, Dafydd ordered his personal bodyguards, and the unit of heavy cavalry under the command of captain Rynwr to run to a spot a hundred meters behind the enemies rear.



By the time captain Gronw and his men were some fifty meters away from the English lines, he ordered a full frontal charge into the English. At almost the same time, the English commander must have thought the same, as the enemy troops charged towards the Welsh. At the moment of impact, spears broke, axes and shield collided, and a bloody brawl commenced. The morale of the English militia must have been very low, for they almost immediately routed once their line join the Welsh. It started with a few men running away towards their rear where captain Loefwine was located, but a few moments later, it seemed as if the entire English infantry line was routing.
‘Kill them all men! Don’t let those cowardly pigs get away!’, captain Grown shouted as he firmly planted his axe into the head of an Englishmen.



At the same time, captain Custennin ordered his Helwyr to stop firing. He was afraid his arrows would only inflict friendly casualties. Although he stopped firing, he and his men had already inflicted severe casualties in the lines of the English militia.
Once prince Dafydd saw the enemy infantry run away, he ordered his personal bodyguard to change direction and charge into the flank of the longbowmen who took position behind their captain. On the other side of the battlefield, captain Rynwyr did the same thing, but in stead of archers, he charged directly into the cavalry unit of Loefwine.
‘Charge!!’, Dafydd screamed, as he ordered his steed towards the English longbowmen. ‘This is for my father!’, as he decapitated the first archer he passed.



By this time, captain Loefwine saw he could not win this battle, and ordered a full scale rout towards the city of Chester. The Welsh cavalry was way quicker than most English troops, and thus they were cut down like grass. Many Englishmen were captured by the fast Welsh cavalry. Although a large portion of the English army was captured, captain Loefwine was able to get away, probably due to his fast horse. But nonetheless, almost an half of the enemy army was taken prisoner. After Dafydd had rallied most of his men, they shouted; ‘ Victory! Victory for our people, for our king!’
Dafydd ordered all of the English prisoners to be executed at once, one part because of his father, and the other part for making a statement towards the English king in London. He had proven himself to be a worthy commander, and had won the first battle on the road to Welsh victory. It was a total victory!

[Monk]

No doubt the English will be feeling that one: their armies completely humiliated and destroyed on the field of battle! What are your plans to take advantage of the victory? Is it too early to dream of a conquered London?

[DaVega]

I think I will be able to capture the city of Chester because their main garrison was destroyed in the battle above ;-) And yeah.. I will be able to capture London in the future, but that will take a bit more time :P I think I will be able to post the next chapter in a day or two, because i'm quite busy now with my study!

[DaVega]

Since i posted my AAR on twcenter.net, i wil not continue to post my story online here ;) You can follow the rest of my story (i just posted another chapter online) on

http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showthread.php?t=290299

I hope you enjoy the rest of the story!