The Fall of Vienna, A Visigoth AAR.

[Jogen The Conqueror]

Hi all, I've been working on a Medieval 2 AAR called The Legend of Thomas: King of the Danes and progress on that one has been coming along nicely but slowly. I decided in the meantime that I wanted to do a nice short one based on Total Attila in the interim. This is going to be about the lead up to and description of one battle that I fought as the Visigoths. In it I was conquering one of the small Roman kingdoms that emerge, e.g. like Gaul or Britain, once the Roman Empire starts falling. This one in particular was called Septimania and it was in Southern Gaul, during the campaign I decided to settle in that province and take advantage of the rich trading ports to spend some time building up a small trade-based kingdom in peace while I planned my next moves. I controlled all of the province except for the city of Vienna, which was owned by Septimania and I decided to quickly march up my armies and conquer it, which took one turn. I thought it would be really interesting to do it from the perspective of one of the many small factions that ends up getting conquered and I wanted to write a story from the perspectives of one of the AI enemies, and the dread an actual person would feel when coming up against seemingly impossible odds. The series turned out way longer than I thought it would, so I'm going to release it in small parts over the next few days. So anyway, here's the fall of Vienna.
Lord Byron: Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
There is the moral of all human tales;
'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past.
First freedom and then Glory – when that fails,
Wealth, vice, corruption – barbarism at last.
And History, with all her volumes vast,
Hath but one page...
Chapter 1: Prologue
King Alaric watched as Rome burned. The Empire was in chaos. Beset by invasion and rebellion, the heartland had fallen to the ravenous hordes. Retreating to Hispania and Africa, the disemboweled Empire limped on. After a great fire, new life grows in the forest and in the same way, new kingdoms emerged in the ashes of Gaul and Italia. His hordes engorged on the riches of Rome, the King of the Visigoths turned his eyes towards the province of Septimania, on the southern coast of Gaul. On the shores of the Mediterranean, trade from lands near and far flowed through the ports and King Alaric dreamed of a home where his people could live in peace. No more would they wander like packs of hungry wolves. With war drums beating the Goths marched into Septimania and seized the ports from the Roman legions. Now with a kingdom to call his own, he gazed north at the city of Vienna, home to a small kingdom that had rebelled against Rome. Though they had no quarrel, this city was all that stood between him and total conquest of the region. He gathered his armies and prepared to march.



The forests were alive with rivers of men. More than three thousand barbarians, all armed for war were marching on the city of Vienna. At his study, Flavius Merenda could barely believe the reports. These Goths, who just two seasons before had pleaded with his king to join the war against the remnants of Rome, were now going to betray them. Septimania, which had been independent for less than a decade, was now threatened with destruction. Flavius had always thought it would be at the hands of the legions that he’d once served, eager to wreak vengeance for their insolence. Luckily for the new kingdom, the Empire had been ravaged by barbarian invaders and civil war. Rome was now occupied by barbarians and the capital of Ravenna had been sacked at least three times. The Imperial court had moved to Hispania and the Sixth Legion, one of the few full strength legions in the area was campaigning against the Jutes to the north. It shouldn’t have surprised him. The devil-worshippers under King Alaric had unleashed havoc on the Christian nations and had even seized the city of Narbo from the Geats. A new barbarian Kingdom was forming in the south of Gaul and Vienna was the last remaining city needed to give the Goths full control. Wandering out of his study to a balcony, Flavius gazed down at the city, with its people wandering about oblivious to the danger lying ahead. The horde was coming.

[crucify_ego]

Nice start . Can't wait for the rest!

[Jogen The Conqueror]

Chapter 2: The Calm



“Our scouts report that they have nearly three thousand and five hundred men. A thousand more than us.”

“We have walls, my Lord. From inside the gates, they will have no advantage in numbers.” Tiberius, the young captain of the guard had proved his worth fighting bandits, but he knew nothing of fighting a real war.

“No, they will merely tear down our walls with their catapults. I will not subject the people of this city to war. We must fight and we must win outside the gates.”

The war council was incensed by his proposal. One of the commanders, a pudgy man named Marcus spoke up.

“If our men are slain on the battlefield, nothing will protect our people from their wrath.”

“Not necessarily. Our scouts also reported that they were marching in two separate waves, one under King Alaric and one under Ataulf, his brother in law. If we attack before they can combine their forces, we can defeat each army separately.”

“I’m not even sure we can defeat even one of their armies, we’ve all read the reports of them wiping out entire battle-trained legions. Ever since Valens fell, they’ve slaughtered every legion they’ve come across. Not even the Empire’s best generals could defeat them.” Marcus gulped down goblets of wine as they were handed to him by the servants.

“Maybe we can hold out until the Suebi arrive, together with them we may have a fighting chance.” Tiberius suggested.

Flavius shook his head. “The Suebi will do nothing to help us. They have ignored our requests for aid. We are alone in this war.”

“How did they move this fast? Just last season they were rebuilding the cities they captured. Only Christ can save us.” Tiberius stared at the figures on the map representing the Gothic hordes. “They are just days from the city. How can we hope to defeat them in the open field?”

“Have faith son, battles have been won against worse odds. Let us work on a battle plan. The night may be long and the storm may be fierce, but by dawn the city must stand.”



“Father, I come to you as a humble servant. Save us from these pagans. Give me strength as you gave David the strength to face Goliath. Let us conquer these savages as Joshua conquered the Canaanites. You’ve sent the snows to impede their advance but please give our warriors the power to serve you.”

On his knees, Flavius knelt before the cross. He hadn’t slept in at least a day. Between prayer and council meetings, he worked through the night. He knew if the barbarians took Vienna, the chapel would be destroyed and altars to their pagan gods would be raised in its stead.

Is this punishment for rebellion? The price of independence?

He crossed himself, whispering “amen” as he left the chapel. Like with most winters, the city was beautiful, snow drifting down. The snow crunched under his feet as he walked home. The streets were filled with merchants selling their wares, soldiers marching, children playing, and laborers working. He thought of the streets filled with barbarians, drenching the snow with blood, smashing and looting, killing all in their path. He saw the banners of the king being taken down and replaced with the banner of the Gothic eagle.

We must stop them before they reach the city.

Flavius found his wife, Aemilia, outside their home. She was with child, and as she tended the cooking pots, Flavius wondered what world his child would be born to.

“Come inside, and let’s sup.”

Inside the hearthfire was burning. Aemilia brought the pots into the house and began filling bowls with stew. Flavius pulled of his furs and sat at a long wooden table.

“This may be one of the last suppers I have with you, love.” He drank from a cup of warm ale. “The barbarians could be here any day now.”

“Don’t talk like that. Maybe we can leave before they get here.”

“And go where? The Empire is crumbling, only barbarian kingdoms surround us. Besides, I swore an oath to fight for the King.”

She spat at this. “You and your oaths. Can’t you see! How can you raise a child if you’re dead!”

“What do you want me to do? We can’t exactly surrender. There’s nowhere to run to. Only God’s strength and cold steel can save us.”

“The Kingdom of Britain has taken lands to the north. We can go live with them, they’re fellow Latins.”

“We’d be crossing in the middle of winter through lands inhabited by bandits and wolves. Besides if we got there, what lives would we live? What trade do I know besides war? Would they let me into their armies knowing that I abandoned my own King?”

“It’s not much, but it’s better than this…this madness!”

“Aemilia. I am the commander of our kingdom’s army. If I must die on the battlefield, so be it. Maybe it means our child can grow up safe and free from barbarians.”

“This is fatigue clawing at your mind. When was the last time you’ve slept? Or eaten?” She brought the bowls over to the table and together they ate in silence.

“I fear if I sleep I may never wake.” He said when they were done.

“Then let us both never wake.” She cleared the table and he made his way to bed.

Flavius was asleep before his head ever hit the pillow.

[theSilentKiller]

Two great chapter thus far, I like it! The screenshot from Skyrim fits to the time period really well, especially the wolf armour. One thousand men more are a big difference but indeed, battles have been won against greater odds!

[Jogen The Conqueror]

Hi, thanks for the support. In retrospect I probably should have done the legion war council as Septimania is more of a Roman type faction. It's definitely interesting to try to explain the AI decisions from the battle and I wanted Flavius to show competence. Anyway, here's the final part before the battle.

Chapter 3: Snow

He awoke in near darkness. The snowstorm outside was raging, battering against the houses with a fury. Aemilia was tending the hearth as he rose from his bed.

“Good. This will slow the barbarians down.” He dressed and reached for his cloak.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“To the war council. We must work on our strategy.”

“You’ve worked through the night. You’ve drawn up your plans. What more must you do? You act as though you carry the weight of this kingdom on your shoulders.”

“I do.” He kissed her and made his way to the door.

Before he could turn the handle, she grabbed his hand. “Not yet” she said, dragging him back to bed.


By the time they were finished, the storm had subsided. He kissed Aemilia’s swollen belly, and dressed. This time, when he opened the door, a soldier greeted him.

“My Lord, you must report to the war council at once.”

“Let’s go.”

At the council, he found Marcus with his head in his hands. A letter was open on the table.

“Our scouts report that they’re a day’s march away.”

At that, Tiberius made his way into the room. Following him was Tullius, commander of the cavalry. Discipline was as alien to Tullius as Christ was to the barbarians. Tullius immediately called for a goblet of wine and set to drinking as he moved the figures representing the Gothic armies closer to Vienna.

“Perhaps we can harass the Goths to slow them down.” He suggested between sips.

“They have more horses than us, and their horsemen more skilled. They also happen to have more. We can’t risk losing any of our cavalry before the battle starts.” Flavius paused a moment. “Marcus, how well drilled are the infantry?”

“The spearmen should be able to hold against most threats, but I’ve read of the Goths using pikes. I don’t think we’ll be able to get past a pike wall. Against their swordsmen, I doubt they’d survive. Our best bet would be with skirmishers.”

“We won’t be able to defend them without cavalry to watch our flanks…Tullius, you’ll have to try to keep away from our missile troops. Tiberius, is the guard ready to fight?”

“As ready as they’ll ever be, my Lord.”

Now Marcus, was drinking wine.

“Julius Caesar defeated far worse odds than we ever did. At Alesia he was surrounded by a hundred thousand Gauls.” Flavius stroked his beard.

“Aye, but he was Caesar. And the lot we have are a far cry from his legions.”

“I know it may seem unlikely, but we can win this. If we strike hard and with decisiveness we can drive back the invaders. If we win this battle…”

‘If.” Marcus downed his goblet.

“God is on our side. If we are to die tomorrow, then so be it, for that is His will. If they win, will give them hell before they do. I, for one would be honored to die fighting at your sides. But we can win. We can conquer.” He drew his sword. “Tomorrow will be a bloody day, but when dawn comes we will stand victorious. Rest well tonight, we need to be sharp in the morning.” He sheathed his sword and left the room.

[waveman]

The fact that you've told us that SeptImania will lose creates an interesting dynamic I think. I definitely want to see how this goes!

[Alwyn]

Great start! I like the way that you are building the tension, as the commanders make plans ... but will their plans have to change, when they encounter the enemy? I look forward to finding out. I wonder if you would like to enter this AAR in the MAARC.

[Jogen The Conqueror]

Thanks for all the support and feedback, I'd love to be part of the competition. If there's enough interest, this could also be an interesting backdoor into a new series. Anyway, here's the long awaited battle and the final part of the series.

Chapter 4: The Stand
The two armies faced each other across a snow-covered plain. The march out of the city had been quiet and grim. The scouts had seen the Goths emerging out of the forest just as morning was giving way to noon. Already, the plan had gone awry, and the Gothic forces had merged before Septimania’s army could strike.
Never mind, their forces aren’t so much larger that we can’t win. Maybe if we could break through their center…
With his bodyguards surrounding him, Flavius watched the forces face each other. The Goths were forming up in front of the forests, leaves stripped bare by winter.


The skirmishing would start soon. The barbarian mercenaries weren’t trusted, but with the loyal infantry behind them, they had little choice but to fight. He could only pray that Tullius could hold off the cavalry. Across the battlefield, he could see the banner of Alaric raised on the left flank and the banner of Ataulf on their right flank.
“When the skirmishing starts, focus fire on their left flank. Kill the pikemen before aiming at the King.”
A messenger rode off to relay orders. Towards the back of the lines, he saw Marcus grimly order the infantry into place. Tullius wanted to be with the city guard in the front ranks.
The boy will get himself killed one day. He thought. Hopefully not today.
He stroked his now bare chin. He’d shaved off his beard that morning, ready to face the barbarians like the Roman legionnaire he’d once been. The Goths had sent scouts to harass the left flank, but they quickly retreated to their own lines.
“Forward!”

He ran forward with his bodyguards. The infantry line slowly moved up and the sound of shouts and steel clashing could be heard as the cavalry on both flanks engaged. Outnumbered two to one in horsemen, he hoped that Tullius could hold off the Gothic horsemen long enough for the skirmishers to do their work.

With the cavalry engagement on the flanks now in full swing, he turned his attention to the rest of the army. But something caught his attention.
“What is he doing? Alert Tullius! Someone stop them!”
One of the cavalry units, made up of German mercenaries had charged ahead, aiming straight for the Gothic archers.
“The fool! We need all the horsemen we can get!”



It was too late. The Gothic arrows had done their bloody work and the pikes moved up to finish off the horsemen. Within minutes, he saw that the horsemen on both flanks were being defeated, the few survivors already running in full speed back to the city. On the left, he saw the remnants of Tullius’s unit trying to regroup and fight off the Gothic cavalry. It wouldn’t be enough.

“Prepare to redeploy the infantry! We need to defend our skirmishers!”
His company had fallen some ways back to get a better view of the battlefield. The spears had already engaged the Gothic pikes, and surprisingly they were already starting to break through the center, as the slingers had managed to thin the Gothic lines. Soon King Alaric would be fighting. Some of the Gothic swords men were rushing forward to reinforce the pikes while others were moving to attack both flanks. He would have to commit the barbarian mercenaries and the city guard to bolster the flanks.
“My lord, their horses aren’t going for the skirmishers.”
He looked to both flanks.

Cavalry was preparing to charge from both sides. They were planning to assassinate him. On the left, he saw as Tullius was slain, the last half dozen horsemen routing in a panic. The Goths were closing in from both sides

They were close now. The breathing of his bodyguards grew heavier. He grabbed the nearest man by the shoulder to steel him. The old familiar rush before battle filled him.
Lord, forgive me my sins. He drew his sword.
“Brace!”
Several javelins flew from the ranks into his guard. Most hit the trees or bounced off shields, but a single man fell to the volley, screaming as blood streamed out of his body.

Another volley was thrown but no more men were killed. It must have been a moment of silence but it felt like an eternity.
My kingdom. My city. My wife.
Horses, men and steel clashed in a bloody melee. Flavius was knocked down into dirt and only just avoided being trampled by the hooves of a horse in full gallop. He rose utterly surrounded and in confusion, blocking a spear thrust from a screaming bearded Goth. He swung his sword and struck the man down off his horse.

Fighting shield to shield and shoulder to shoulder the men battled the Goths. Dodging yet another spear thrust he struck back at the Goth who’d attacked him, severing the man’s outstretched wrist. The crushing weight of men and horse was too much. He slashed wildly and noticed that some of the horsemen were beginning to fall back. He spied another Goth in front of him. He struck at the horse’s neck, killing it. As the rider fell off, he wheeled around and beheaded him. He was now out of the chaos, leaning by a tree, too exhausted to do much in the battle raging behind him.

Drenched in blood and dirt, he took a breath.
“To me men! Before they come back!”
Those close enough to hear him were either too busy fighting, or too exhausted. Before he knew it, the cavalry that had left was now returning. He was surrounded yet again but this time the spear thrusts hit home and the blood he felt was his own.

Wounded, exhausted and in pain, he felt his weapon and shield drop to his sides. Most of the men were dead. Only Goths surrounded him. The horses rode around him, jabbing him with their spears, wearing down his defenses. He looked up the sky as a final lance pierced his neck.

Flavius Calpernius Merenda, Commander of the Grand Army of Septimania, a distinguished legionnaire and lifelong soldier, a loving husband and soon to be father, collapsed face down into the dirt. Blood seeped into the white snow and soon the horsemen left. Where the elite soldiers of Septimania once stood, only a pile of scattered weapons and mangled corpses remained.


Chapter 5: The Epilogue

“More than eight hundred men lost for this” Alaric muttered under his breath.

The city had fallen, all of its commanders slain on the battlefield. The few survivors of the enemy army had surrendered from within their city, allowing the Goths to march in unopposed. He faced the terrified populace, now made up mostly of orphaned children and wailing widows. On the way towards the city he stopped by the spot where the enemy general had made his last stand. The man’s body was mutilated beyond recognition, pierced by dozens of spears. He’d made sure the other commanders were dead too, the pudgy infantry commander had been felled by arrows, the rash cavalry commander cut down from his horse and the fresh-faced commander of the city guard hacked to pieces. But of all the bodies, this one had struck him the most. By all accounts a brave and loyal soldier, who’d served his king with distinction was reduced to a mass of flesh and blood. He wondered which of the widows in the crowd was the commander’s and he hoped it was not the beautiful blond woman whose belly was swollen with child. Her weeping was uncontrolled and she seemed to have been held in high regard by the others. In his best Latin, he addressed the people whose city had been taken from them.

“Enough blood has been shed today. No one will be harmed. We will govern you, and we will build shrines to our gods here. Pay your taxes and we will leave you alone, if any of you are to be harmed, the punishment will be the same as if any of our people were abused. Tonight we will camp outside the city. Bury your dead and honor their sacrifice. But know that a new kingdom has risen.”

This would be one of the last battles of his lifetime. The province now belonged to the Visigoths. With rich trading ports and allies all around, this would make a good home. The days of running were over. He remembered the trauma of his youth, crossing the Danube with the Huns on their heels. The abuse by the Romans and Fritigern’s revolt. The war with the Empire and the first reports from his scouts of a coastal land with ports. Not only would they have a home, the Visigoths would thrive. A new kingdom from the ashes of the old. His son Theodoric would inherit a land of peace and opportunity.

The blood price was paid. Now it was time for a new dawn.

[Alwyn]

Your choice of telling the story from the perspective of your enemy, as they face a devastating attack from the faction which you are playing, works well for me. I wonder if you will continue this story, as the 'new kingdom' rises 'from the ashes of the old', or will you tell a different story?

It's great that you would like to enter the competition. To enter, you just need to post your submission on the thread which I linked to in my previous post. waveman has entered an AAR in the competition on that thread, so you can see the layout which people use.

[Jogen The Conqueror]

Yeah, I've been thinking of doing that too. In the campaign I've been playing I'm quite far ahead of that point, but for the most part there weren't too many interesting things happening and it was mainly just building up trade and infrastructure, though it was quite interesting to see which factions ended up taking over the Empire. Right now I'm a solid generation ahead under Alaric's son. I've conquered most of Spain and am just about winning an intense war with the Picts and will probably soon be at war with the Ebdanians so that could be an interesting series. Of course I also want to focus on my other AAR, Legend of Thomas and I would probably want to finish that first. Anyway, thanks for all the support and I hope you all enjoyed the series.

[Lugotorix]

I enjoyed this. Sometimes in AAR writing you lose focus on the adversaries story and perspective, and since this was centered around Merenda, it made me forget that it was a Visigothic campaign. To the effect that you were playing as Septimania, like the Kingdom of Soissons in The Dark Ages mod.

[Jogen The Conqueror]

Yeah, I definitely experimented with this on 'the Eastern War' which was the first series I worked on, and decided that it would be fun to do an entire series from that perspective and try to have a sense of dread and inevitability creep into the story. Also hoped that the knowledge that the main characters would lose would make the story more tragic.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

Nice AAR, Jogen! I'll look forward to more updates on your Medieval 2 AAR, or another AAR entirely. Do you want me to add this to the completed AARs list? (If you think you might add to this thread with any later episodes from your wars with the Picts or Ebdanians, I'll wait till those are done.)

[Jogen The Conqueror]

I think it should be considered completed, if I end up revisiting this save game it will probably be a new series (maybe think of this as a backdoor pilot/prequel of sorts).

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

You're on the list.