Battle reports thread - King of the Romans PBM

[econ21]

Venice, 1242


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

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

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

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

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

*****

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

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

Kachig and Sir Charles de Villiers exchanged a sceptical glance.

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

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

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Less a battle plan and more an act of desperation…

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

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

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

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

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

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Elberhard found himself pressed against a mass of Byzantine infantry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Send the infantry across.”

“Which regiments?” inquired Sir Charles de Villiers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



The scrummage at its height.

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

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

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



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



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

*****

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

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

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

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

“What?!!!”

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

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

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

Elberhard sulked again.

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The butcher’s bill.

[Northnovas]

Zagreb Region 1342

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

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

Nightfall came and the troops were ordered into position.

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

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

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

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Then the shout came the enemy was surging forward.

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

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

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

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

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The battle was over and a victory achieved.

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

The old man had gained another accolade from his men.

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It was time to head north and to Vienna.

[Ramses II CP]

Near the walls of Hamburg, 1342.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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



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

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

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Fritz gets a reputation:

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[Zim]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[deguerra]

Bruges, 1342

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

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

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

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

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At the walls

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[flyd]

Imperial Forecast Office, Nuremberg, December 24, 1342

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

Magdeburg, 1342

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

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

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The Inner Eastern Gate

The outer eastern gate was locked and abandoned.

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The Outer gate was breached with a battering ram.

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

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

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

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

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

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The battle.

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

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

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

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German flags still fly over Magdeburg.

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

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[OverKnight]

The Third Battle of the Iron Bridge, 1342

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A day later, Valsamon moved to attack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[Northnovas]

Vienna 1352

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Cecil XIX]

Prague, 1350

“These Poles are too rash.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And so, the walls of Prague began the battle.

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Results were immediate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn them.”

“Sir.”

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

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

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

***

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

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There was a knock on the door.

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

“What is it Klem?”

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

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

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

“You’ve gotten a Dane to help us.”

“Yes Lord.”

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

[GeneralHankerchief]

Milan, 1352

"He's what?!"

"Sick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"...

...

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~~~~

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

"You ready?"

"Why? You wanna relieve me?"

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

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

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

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

"The Kaiser and I."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then the boys had better hold long enough."

"Well, good luck."

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

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

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

"Herrmann?"

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

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

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

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

"Test arrow."

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

"Continue advance."

March. Thud. Plop. Plopplopplop. Scream.

"Test arrow."

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

"All missiles FIRE!!!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Efficiently.

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[TinCow]

Bologna, 1354 AD

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

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[AussieGiant]

Daruzzo 1354

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

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

This was simple.

Intercept the relief force,

knock down the gates with the catapults,

kill everything in sight,

sack the place,

then leave. It all went according to plan.

The start:

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Team One:

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Team Two:

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The trap:

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The captain dies:

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Race for the gates:

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The catapults do their job:

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The second trap:

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Game over:

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Stats:

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Sacked:

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Nothing has changed:

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[GeneralHankerchief]

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

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

Milan, 1354
Part I

There were four armies:

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

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

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

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

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

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The Central Battle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Easier said than done,” someone said.

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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

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

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

“Uh, no sir...”

“Is he injured?”

“No, sir...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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

The thunder hit.

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

The charge stopped dead.

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

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

“They’re breaking!”

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

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

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