MacDidz: The Scottish Blog

[Fußball]

An entertaining read Didz. I will likely show this to my friend who loves playing the Scottish, he will likely enjoy the read.

Tschüß!
Erich

[Razor1952]

MacDidz a great read. The scots are great fun to play.

here's a shot of scottish canon elephants.....[IMG]
[/IMG]

[sapi]

Nice work, Didz, that's an enjoyable read.

However, AARs really belong in the Throne Room, so I'm going to have to move this there.

[Magraev]

Great read! And funny.

I wish there were more AAR's like this one.

[Didz]

I'm glad you guys are enjoying this blog and I shall keep adding to it when I can. I'm one of those players who likes to keep notes of his games so I find it quite nice to have this forum to publish them on, and if you enjoy reading them then thats even better.

One thing I find quite interesting about this Scottish game is the way my habit of using mercenaries is leading to a quite interesting anti-English coalition in my field armies. Indeed, a large portion of my so called Scottish Army are actually Irish and no doubt you will soon seen some Welsh and even English troops appear. I suspect that historically this would have been quite accurate, the only people missing at the moment are the French who are being a little bit slow in recognizing the opportunity Edward is offering them.

The other nice thing about writing a blog like this is that it encourages me to add a bit of background colour to the characters. Edward for instance is turning into a pretty ruthless character, both in the game and in this blog. Although he nearly comes unstuck in Sherwood Forest. But thats in the next report.

[Didz]

Winter 1100: Nottingham
The first frosts of winter found Edwards army camped outside the walls of Nottingham Castle preparing for the imminent assault. The army was cheered by the news that York had already fallen to Alexander and all looked forward to the plunder which Nottingham would provide, not to mention the warm beds, ale and women.

The army was poised to strike when news reached Edward from his agent, Wallace, that the English had finally stirred themsleves from the Welsh borders and were approaching from the west through the forest of Sherwood.

"Yer can allays trust the damn English ta ruin a good party." cursed Edward "Muster the men, lets teach 'em how we Scots deal wi' gatecrashers.'

The Battle of Nottingham
The area from north to west of Nottingham is one huge forest. The forest of Sherwood was a Royal hunting ground used by the English king and so was preserved from clearance by local peasants and farmers. However, Edward managed to find an area of higher ground which was large enough and clear enough to deploy his army upon.

The way Edward deployed his army was becoming almost a standard for the Scottish king. The infantry formed two lines with the crossbowmen in front and the archers sandwiched between the first and second line, whilst the border horse formed up slightly behind each flank ready to fend off any threat or launch an attack on the enemy reserves.

Scouts soon reported that the English were approaching through the forest to the west and Edward rushed his army forward to deploy across their line of advance, and to allow his crossbowmen a clear field of fire as they emerged from the tree-line.

The English infantry baulk under the heavy fire but the English knights spur forwards and hurl themselves at the Scottish line driving off the crossbowmen and impaling themselves on the wall of lowland spearmen and Irish axemen forming the Scottish first line.

With the English Army now locked in close combat with the Scottish battle line the Border Horse on the flanks of the line sally forth to drive off the English archers.

Fighting is fierce and bloody, the Scottish first line is driven in by shear weight of numbers and Edward is forced to commit his second line to protect his archers.

Finally, the English have had enough and their Knights attempt to extracate themselves from the slaughter.

The English general is either too slow or too brave and is cut down by Scottish spearmen.

Their Captain dead the English lose heart and flee to the South presumably heading for London their last place of refuge. The border horse chivvy them from the field whilst the archers and crossbowmen use them for target practice. The rest of the army began catching their breath and looking for loot or friends amongst the corpses that littered the hillside.

But Edward was looking for the English King. Rufus had not shown his face at the battle, although Edward knew he must be close by. He had deliberately held back his retinue of 62 knights with the intention of preserving it to deal with Rufus and his small retinue of English from Nottingham. The idea of cutting down the English King personally appealed to him and he certainly did not want Rufus to escape back into the city. So now he scanned the tree-line looking for any sign of the skulking monarch.

The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. For instead of Rufus and the small retinue of knights reported by Wallace, what emerged from the tree's and began to march resolutely up the slope towards him was little short of another English army, and an army made up not of peasants and local levies but an army of knights.

"Ta Arms! Ta Arms! Recall the pursuit. Reform the battle-line. Ready the archers."


As the tired and bloody Scottish Army scrambled to face this new threat Edward realised he had been right all along. It had been a trap. The English had lured him here like a fat trout with a juicy worm and now they thought they had him, but something must have gone wrong for the English had been late springing the trap, had Rufus and his knights arrived earlier when the Scots were still struggling with the main English army they would have overwhelmed him. But they had not and so there was just a chance that Edward might still win, if god and St.Andrew was with him. Crossbow bolts began to pepper the ranks of English knights plodding up the slope but with minimal effect, the English just kept coming.

The battles lines clash over the bodies of the fallen from the first battle. Rufus and his personal retinue charge the Scottish centre intent on breaking the line.

The remnants of the Scottish horse attack the English flanks in a futile attempt to break their resolve.

Edward watched the struggling mass of men with growing concern. Everything was now committed to the fight except his own household and the Scottish ranks were gradually being thinned. It was only a matter of time before his men gave way under the pressure.

If he was to win this fight then Edward knew that he would have to risk all on a final roll of the dice, and trust that St. Andrew was holding the dice cup.

He could see the English Royal Standard and knew that Rufus was there in the fight near the centre of the battle. It was time to rip out the heart of this English Army or die trying.

With that he moved his personal retinue of knights around the left of his own battle line and brought them up behind the English centre where Rufus was still struggling to break through the Scottish line. With a final shout of 'Fer Scotland and Saint Andrew, KILL THE BASTARDS' he launched his charger into the midst of the English knights and began hacking his way resolutely towards the Royal Standard and the English King.

Rufus seeing the mass of Scottish knights closing on him from the rear spurred his own horse hard and finally managed to break through the Scottish battle-line and escape abandoning his standard bearer and most of his surviving retinue. Edward attempted to follow but an English spear thrust across his chest made him realise that the English had closed ranks behind their King and pursuit would be suicide. 'SCOTS TA ME! BACK! BACK! He fell back reforming behind the English line whilst the surviving infantry on the hill launched a furious charge into the English spearmen to distract their attention.

The escape of Rufus proved to be shortlived, as the English King attempted to make his way back to his own lines, Edward and his surviving knights having extracted themselves from the tangle of English spears intercepted him and Edward finally had the King v King showdown that he craved. Rufus died his chest pierced by a Scottish lance.

Their King dead the English lost heart and began to fall back down the slope and melt away back into the greenwood from wence they had come.

Pitfully few of the Scottish host survived and of the 62 knights that stood with Edward that morning only 30 now remained, nevertheless it was a victory. The English trap had failed and Rufus had paid for his deception with his life.

Edward wandered the battlefield congratulating his men and surveying the carnage.

"How many did we lose?" he asked.
"As best we can tell six hundred and sixty six, Sire" was the reply.

Edward laughed ironically "Six-hundred and sixty-six, the devils number, if that doesn't convince Pope Gregory that we are on a holy crusade to rid the world of these English devil's then nothing will. Make sure that MacDougall gets that message in Rome, I want the Pope to know what happened here today, and that God was on our side."

[Stuperman]

The plot thickens, this it really good, I hope to see what happens next.

[Didz]

Winter 1100 AD: The Battle of Nottingham (Evening)
The funeral pires were burning fiercely on the hillside, fuelled by the oaks of Sherwood and Edward was recovering from the battle in his tent and contemplating Rufus' crown on the table before him when his equerry entered.

Sire! a deputation from the city is here to plea for mercy.

Edward stirred from his thoughts picked up the English crown and emerged from the tent into the stench of smoke and death outside. A small group of well-dressed Englishmen were gathered outside under the curious and careful gaze of his surviving knights. Their leader, a well dressed man with an impressive set of whiskers, stepped forward and bowed.

"Your majesty, I am Alan Wheatley and I have the honour to be the Sherriff of Nottingham. I am here together with this deputation, and on behalf of the Constable of Nottingham Castle to negotiate terms for the surrender of the keys to the fortress."

"Da yer have any daughters Mister Wheatley?" asked Edward pretending to inspect the English Crown in his hand.

The Sherriff seemed perplexed "Yes, sire I have a daughter. Her name is Marion." he replied.

"Then my terms are quite simple Sherriff. Tell you and yer friends, both here and in the fortress that if they hand over the keys to the Fortress to me tonight I will offer them and their families my protection tomorrow, when my army enters the city. If they do not then they can remain where they are until my soldiers find them and meet their fate like the rest of the population."

But, Sire surely we can discuss.... began the Sherriff.

"There is nothing to discuss, Sherriff. You can see the state of my army. Thanks to your King I have less that thirty knights remaining, and much of my army are hired thugs. Do you think I can deny them the spoils they have fought hard for here today. I can offer you and your friends protection but nothing more. Accept it now or negotiate with my soldiers tomorrow."

"You leave us no choice. Sire!"

"There never was one. Hand my men the keys and go with them to gather your people together in an easily defensible location, then stay there until what must be done is over."

The next morning Edwards army sacked Nottingham, claiming the warm. beds, ale and women that it craved. Whilst the castles dignitaries and their families cowered under the protection of Edwards knights.