Outside Caen, 1296
The command tent was much busier than usual that night, as three generals and their staffs were present discussing strategy among other things, instead of the usual one. It was a rather tight squeeze, but the general merriment of all patrons present made them all forget the rather cramped arrangements.
The three leaders eating, drinking, and debating were Dietrich von Dassel and Friedrich Scherer of the Reich, as well as their ally Prince Hanrrique of Portugal.
"And as a gift from your Mediterranean allies," said the Prince in a mild slur, "Several of our finest bottles of port! May you use them well!" There were several cheers followed by the loud gulping sounds of several people drinking at once.
"And from your, er... large, continental allies," said Duke Scherer in a merry tone of his own, "Many pounds of the Reich's finest beef! May they go well with the port, may they go well indeed!" More cheering accompanied this, several toasts were made, and the feasting began.
"You know," said Prince Hanrrique about halfway through, his mouth full of raw red meat, "You Imperials control half of the continent, are in the process of assimilating several cultures at once, and get lots of spices and other materials from the Greeks and Outremer, and this is the best food you can give me? BAH! Italy's been yours now for generations; where's some of that food, eh?"
"Well, my good Prince," said Dietrich, "We Germans are a warlike, savage people, in case our history since, oh, roughly one thousand years before Christ hasn't taught you." Much laughter, especially overloud guffaws, accompanied this. "We believe that there is no better pre-battle meal than red meat, taken forcibly from an animal that was conquered by our superior hunters. Kind of gets us in the mood."
"You make a good point," said Hanrrique with a grin. "Speaking of getting in the mood, shall we work out our exact battle plan now?"
"Yes, now would be a good time," Dietrich said. "Duke Scherer, you have an overview of deployment?"
"Yes," mumbled the Duke, speaking with his mouth full. He took a big swallow, washed it down with another sip of port, and continued. "As you know, the French force has temporarily broken the siege of Caen in order to deal with this combined threat - hence, me speaking with you at this moment. Sir Dietrich, you are the closest force to the enemy and will thus face primary engagement with them.
"Prince Hanrrique and his merry band of Portuguese doombringers" - more guffawing - "shall approach the battle from the east, hopefully slamming into the already-engaged French and breaking them. This plan is, in essence, the same strategy that Conrad Salier and Prinz Elberhard used against the Mongols in the second wave.
"Meanwhile, I will be leading the garrison of Caen to the battle from the northeast. I will primarily be supporting Sir Dietrich's army should the event arise where the French prove too much for his men." Dietrich snorted. "My force, the greatest numerically out of the four armies present on the field, shall also serve as a final sledgehammer should the combined efforts of Dietrich and the Prince fail to drive the French off the battlefield."
"An excellent summary, Duke Scherer," said Prince Hanrrique. "Dietrich, do you know what you are doing?"
"Yeah," Dietrich said with a grin on his face. "Kill all the French bastards, but save some for you so you can swoop in and win the day."
"Admirable sentiments," said the Prince. "Come! Let us eat and drink the body and blood of those already slain by better men!" The remainder of the night continued as such.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The Battle
"They have artillery," said Dietrich, groaning. "God, how I hate artillery. Three regiments of trebuchets, six of the cursed things, ninety crewmen, already an abomination because they're French, but twice so because they're crewmen; Friedrich, how I hate artillery."
"Yes, sir," said Friedrich absentmindedly. He had evidently heard variations of this rant many times before. "So how will you deal with them?"
"Don't give 'em much of a window to fire at, I guess," said Dietrich, rambling. "I wanted to stay in place for a while, give 'em a few crossbow volleys since we have the upper hand this time, but staying in place is suicide against these things..."
"Sir?"
"All units forward. Just move. This heavy weaponry stuff could be the end of us, Friedrich. I don't like it - imagine, scientists winning a war instead of soldiers - real men! I don't like it!"
The Imperial line lurched forward with Dietrich still ranting on about how artillery, especially the trebuchet, was an abomination, and probably was invented by the slimy French since they were too weak and cowardly to resort to proper fighting and needed a backup plan, and how the inventor of the trebuchet was the child of - oh, crap, six flaming rocks headed directly for us.
The realization of that snapped Dietrich back to the battle.
"Keep in line, boys! Don't break the line! Just keep moving forward and they won't be able to hurt you any more!"
The first salvo of the rocks came down. Most were off-target; such was the consequence of using fire. One, however, came down directly on a handful of crossbowmen, crushing and burning them up, leaving their immolating bodies for the rest of the army to see as they moved past.
"You want that *#%! to happen to you?" Dietrich yelled at the men. "Charge, boys; if you're going to die then die properly! Forward!" The Imperial line began moving at a run. The French in front of them did not stop but also marched forward. The two lines were now quite close and the second salvo of the French artillery undershot their targets, burning up a significant portion of their own men.
The Imperials, led by Dietrich, whooped. "Come on, men! They are backed by men that can't even aim right! Forward and show them that there is no escape!!!" The two lines met, and the usual melee began.
Dietrich rode, backing the center of the Imperial line, and he saw something very odd indeed. The French center was already beginning to break. This was probably a factor of several variables, including the fact that they were town militia (what idiot of a leader would put the weakest unit in the center? Were they hoping for a Cannae?) and had taken a fiery trebuchet delivery in the back, but Dietrich, knowing that his reputation against the French was growing, could only think that somehow, he was the cause of this rout.
The regiment of Armoured Sergeants that were fighting in the center were now idled. Dietrich ordered them to assist their fellows and flank the Dismounted Noble Knights, opening up a gaping hole in the center of both lines.
If they're scared of me then this should make things much easier, Dietrich thought. "Come on, men! We lead by example! Charge those trebuchets!!!" His escort screamed forward, covering the open space between the battle line and the French artillery. Looking around, he saw that he was not the only one making that journey.
After hacking away at the trebuchets for a while, he paused and took a look at the greater battle. It was over fast. The French units seemed to be breaking in a chain reaction; not because others were breaking, but because the Germans that were fighting those that had broke were turning their attention to them now. It would soon be time clean-up duty.
To the east, Prince Hanrrique and his escort led the Portuguese charge on the French position, still a good bit off from the main fight. He crested the final forested hill and took a view of the situation, clear for the first time. He chuckled.
"That dirty dog," he said, "He didn't leave any for us! Come on, boys, we can't be left out of this fight! Charge!!!"
The Portuguese, along with Duke Scherer, tried their very best to get to the situation but it was over before they got there. The French were either dead or taken prisoner, and Dietrich trotted over, greeting them smartly.
"Prince Hannrique. Duke Scherer," he said, taking off his helmet and grinning, "You're late."
Re: Battle reports thread - King of the Romans PBM
Originally Posted by TosaInu
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