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Thread: Outskirts of an Empire III

  1. #1

    Default Outskirts of an Empire III

    This is my 3rd installment of my AAR. It's not finished and the 2nd part will be up soon I hope! Enjoy!

    It is 1110. The Pope was dead and with it the broken relationship between the Holy Roman Empire and the Papal States. Pope Amatus of the Holy Roman Empire had been *elected* with the help of bribes and underhand deals. Nevertheless the Reich got its wish and was in no threat of being excommunicated. Once more, war has ravaged across Europe between the Holy Roman Empire and Poland. Imperial spies have been sent across the land to gather information on the outskirts of the Reich a task that seems never ending and pointless in such a great empire. Never has an empire been so large spanning from the savage south in Timbuktu to the forested north in Oslo. Never have merchants traded in so many exotic goods ranging from silk, to gold, to sugar, to spices, to amber, to silver. Never have diplomats travelled so far, crossing barren plains to negotiate deals and alliances with the Reich…never has an Emperor been so aggressive and ambitious. Emperor Heinrich was approaching his 55 years old yet he still wanted more. Spurred on by his recent victories in the Defence of Magdeburg and the siege of Uppsala, the greedy tyrant set out crush Poland…by himself. Sickened by his lack of faith in the Council of Nobles, he set off from Hohenstauffen towards Cracow in order to eliminate the Polish as a threat to his great empire, with him an army of 971 men including 70 of his best bodyguard.

    On another side of the Empire…

    Ruprecht the Brave, now a well-known hero due to his close victory against the Moors a few years before, was back in Spain except engaging against a totally different enemy…the Portuguese. In 1107, Ruprecht launched a sudden act of betrayal, crushing the Portuguese at the battle of Lisbon after which he took the nearby city with his 940 men, which barely took a casualty in the battle. Driven by his success and boldness, Ruprecht headed towards the last bastion of the Portuguese, Leon. By halfway through 1109 Ruprecht was sieging the city defended by King Rey Duarte the Chivalrous. A secret deal with the Spanish through the clever diplomats of the Reich had allowed Ruprecht to attack the Portuguese without any interference from their Spanish allies. It was to be his battle alone. As every day passed Ruprecht prepared himself for another battle against the desperate Portuguese that would determine the war in the West.

    Chapter One- Avarice

    “It is not titles that honour men. It is men that honour titles”-Machiavelli

    Emperor Heinrich was paranoid. His lack of faith in the Council of Nobles and the recent assassination attempts on his life had caused him to reassess his priorities…he increased his personal security and bodyguard at an immense cost losing his control over his on generals, and his own sanity. Yet nevertheless the dreaded tyrant was quite an inspiring figure as he marched on towards Cracow. He had been marching with his army for quite some time, at least 2 years, passing the numerous watchtowers of the Reich as he headed towards the Polish city led by Miron of Rowne. His spies who had gathered the information on the area had infiltrated the settlement for quite some time and as Heinrich’s journey neared to its fateful destination his spy paid him a ‘visit.’ “Mein Kaiser. The garrison of Cracow has left. It would be an opportune time to attack.” Heinrich grinned. “At last,” he thought to himself, “Poland will be destroyed by German arms and German might.” Heinrich marched on, confident in dealing a final blow to the Poles.


    Emperor Heinrich’s army marches on to Cracow.
    Alea Iacta Est.
    By the middle of winter, 1110, Heinrich’s army had reached the city, and as the spy had mentioned the garrison was pathetically small compared to his own army, 450 men versus his 971. His nearby watchtowers spotted no reinforcements. His spy was in the city, failing to open the gate in the first attempted assault. The spy vowed not to fail his Kaiser again. It seemed that Heinrich would have an easy and simple method of killing his opponent, starving the Poles to death. He had not anticipated the blow that was about to come.

    Sergeant Fritzlang from Heinrich’s won bodyguard rushed to the German army’s camp as quickly as he could. He had only one agenda. “My liege! The Poles are coming from the South. They’re heading this way with an army of 1200!” Heinrich couldn’t believe his ears. “Prepare yourselves men! We’re in for a fight!” the crazed lunatic shouted as he placed on his heavy armour. In moments his army was ready, preparing for the first dreaded wave of the Polsky, preparing for the worst. They were in their Emperor’s and God’s hands, probably not the safest hands considering his most recent actions.

    Heinrich’s men wait as they see their foe crossing over the snow fields below
    Captain Leszeck felt the cold chill down his spine as he saw the Reich’s men on the top of the snow-covered hill. It wasn’t because his army was big enough to annihilate them. It was just as butchering and decapitating the head of the Emperor was not going to be an easy task. Nevertheless like all young captains he did his duty and slowly marched up against Heinrich’s troops knowing that this day would be written down in history no matter who would win the battle.


    Leszeck’s men march up the hill to engage the Reich’s forces
    “Sir. On the frontal flank they have positioned their squads of archers. In the centre one squad…make that two squads of those crossbow missile cavalry…Letze-something my liege. And the rest are peasants and woodsmen.” Fritzlang commented to the Emperor. Heinrich paused for a while, trying to peer through the thick icy fog of the battlefield, searching for any hidden assassins who might attack him before battle commenced. “Hold firm. Do not move back one pace. We shall crush them with superior might and discipline.” He shouted. “Charge!” ordered Leszeck. “We shall show them Polish strength and power today!” The battle had just begun.


    The Reich holds firm before the chaos of bloody warfare ensues
    The Reich due to its strategic positioning sustained the massive first wave with relative ease, impaling the oncoming Poles with their spears. Cries of “For the Reich!” and “Hold your ground” flooded the cold air as well as the stench of blood. That stench of blood, which drove Heinrich into the brink of insanity. “Kill those Poles! I want their heads!” commanded Heinrich as he charged towards the Polish cavalry. But Leszeck came prepared.


    Entranced by spiling the bloody of his enemies, Heinrich falls into a bloody trap
    “Attack the general!” cried Leszeck as suddenly his squad came out from the dense mist and attacked Heinrich’s rear flank. As Heinrich was too busy chasing after one of the squads of Polish cavalry, the other lead by Leszeck galloped around the hill and had charged at his open back. “All too easy…” remarked the Polish captain as he headed towards the general. “Perhaps we won’t need Duke Miron’s aid. The battle will be finished by the time he arrives.” Heinrich was in serious danger. Surrounded on both fronts, on one side the swift Polish missile cavalry, firing at him as he attempted in vain to catch up him, in addition with the supporting archer in the front. On his back was Leszeck charging towards him as his own men fought courageously against the withering Polish troops. Heinrich didn’t have time. Any moment now Miron could arrive and if he hadn’t defeated this first wave, he was doomed. “CHARGE!” shouted the lunatic as he headed towards Leszeck, turning his back to the crossbow and archer fire. Fritzlang only hoped this would be a right decision on Heinrich’s behalf.


    Combat ensues and the wavering Poles start to get pushed back against German might
    By now most of the first wave was wavering, but the Polish missile troops kept pounding away at the frontal flank of the Reich’s best. Cries of “Hold your ground!” and “Fail not the Reich!” filled whatever was left in the blood-saturated air. It was at this moment that Heinrich’s 40 left bodyguard plowed headfirst into Leszeck’s own Lzecky. Leszeck was doomed. The moment they made contact, even before Leszeck and his men drew their axes, they were crushed. As Leszeck fell to the ground, bleeding profusely from his stomach he watched as his army fled. Heinrich followed up his assault by trampling his enemy to death. “LET NONE ESCAPE” he ordered, slicing an archer in the head. But the job was not all done yet…


    The doomed peasants put up a fight against Heinrich’s knights as the remainder of Leszeck’s men flee
    Miron of Rowne arrived at last and probably too late, hampered by the snowy battlefield and the cold weather. “My lord what have we here as he saw Leszeck’s men fleeing from the battlefield or dying in the icy snow. His blood boiled. “Show these wretches how Poles really fight!” as he lead the slow march towards Heinrich’s men. The battle was not finished yet for the Reich.


    Miron orders the slow advance towards his dreaded foe
    Heinrich, although paranoid and exhausted realised the battle was only half done. He glanced at his bloodied men, men soaking with the blood of their friends and foe alike, men who were tired and exhausted already by this hard fight. “MARCH! We are not done yet! The Reich has not shown its full potential so far! Let this be a message for those white hens approaching us!” Fritzlang was exhausted but knew his Kaiser was right. The battle was not done. The battle had not been won yet. The Poles had not been crushed. As he followed the trail of men up the snowy hill he saw the dead bodies lying on the ground and he immediately knew what a heavy cost this battle had taken.


    The Reich’s men race up the hill hoping to survive the final wave
    The next moments were shocking. Straight after positioning, the rash Miron charged straight at his foe, who had just in time placed up their spears. Locked in combat, Miron slew numerous of the exhausted Germans but slowly his men were picked off, swarmed like the carcass of an animal, by tiny ants nipping and ripping them apart. “KILL HIM! I WANT HIS HEAD ON MY TABLE!” roared the Emperor.

    Miron of Rowne fighting for his life against he German horde

    Heinrich however realised that killing the enemy general was not his greatest priority. Several hundred angry Poles were heading his way and he knew that his tired men would not hold out for much longer against fresh enemy steel and arms. “CHARGE!” the Emperor shouted as his men ploughed into the enemy’s first rank, the terrifying visage of the paranoid leader spreading through all the remaining Polish soldiers.

    The Carnage of the battle, inscribed in the record books of history as one of the greatest triumphs of the Reich
    Miron ran for his life, chased by a horde of angry soldiers. His men were left in a worse condition,, being slaughtered as they tried in vain to flee the blood soaked battlefield. As the sun reached its peak, all of the Poles were either in flight or simply, dead. Emperor Heinrich looked at his men and saw the true strength of the Reich, a strength he believed would dominate the entire world some day. Miron, one of the last of the Poles retreated back to his doomed city, depressed at witnessing what was the end of the Polish nation. “Oh if only we were stronger.” He murmured as he thrust his sword into his heart. “If only….”

    Miron fleeing the battlefield in disgrace and dishonour

    "Cruelty is used well (if it is permissable to talk in this way of what is evil) when it is employed once and for all, and one's safety depends on it, and then it is not persisited in but as far as possible turned to the good of one's subjects"- Machiavelli from The Prince

    That's the first section done...I'll put up the next one later but until then, enjoy!

  2. #2
    Hex Khan's Avatar Oooooh Yeeeaah!!
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    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    nice tale Ippius, like your visuals, good effects mate looking forward to the update
    Historical Reenactor and Proud of it
    Winner of Best AAR Writer Award 2007

  3. #3

    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    argh...I accidentally put up 4 posts

  4. #4
    Ahmose's Avatar Libertus
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    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    Very excellent write, as if I was there with the Emperor . Looking forward to the rest.

    Regards/Ahmose
    Now playing and modding for Chivalry Total War Mod although I got Medieval II Total War...

  5. #5

    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    nice wooooooork!

  6. #6

    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    Quote Originally Posted by Ippius View Post
    argh...I accidentally put up 4 posts
    That hapened to me too when posting my Azincourt screenshots - the forum hangs for a while...

    Truely awesome post Ippius - taking the screenshots during the battle without HUD really works best. Save as jpg and you can get rid of the gif gradients.

    Really like your words too - it's nice to read something well written that brings it all to life.

  7. #7

    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    Thanks for all the support. I've been recently very busy with schoolwork etc which ios why I took so long to post it up. When something wrong happened with my internet I was quite fustrated lol. I'll get the next installment up ASAP.

  8. #8

    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    nice stuff! good work!

  9. #9

    Default Chapter Two: Consolidation

    Chapter Two: Consolidation


    “There is no surer way of keeping possession than by devastation”- Machiavelli

    The fact that Ruprecht the Brave’s wife gave birth to a new son of the Reich did not make him in any way a nicer person. In fact, Ruprecht the Brave, within the last 10 years had became more dreaded yet more inspirational on the battlefield, scoring numerous heroic deeds and victories on the war in the West. The Moors though still a threat were severely weakened thanks to his brilliant tactics, his inspirational charges and his somewhat risky and dangerous mood swings. Nevertheless he had proved his worth to the Reich and Heinrich himself was inspired by his bravery. But like his mood swings, the Holy Roman Empire diplomacy was constantly swinging about and Portugal who had attempted to expand further became an enemy of the Reich. The successful crushing of the Portuguese at Lisbon had left them with Leon only heavily defended with 3 of the finest generals and a 1000 strong garrison. It was this city that Ruprecht would determine the dominance of the Holy Roman Empire in Spain and after 1 year it seemed that the day had finally drawn near.

    Rey Duarte the Chivalrous was impatient. For at least a year his homeland had been sieged by traitorous deceitful liars, intent of taking the world in its grasps for its own pride and greed. He watched as slowly his men died dying of disease, starvation and dehydration. “So much for a heroic end to Portugal” Duarte muttered, acknowledging that his kingdom would be following many others. “If we are to die with honour, let us charge at them. Let us assault their battlelines. Let us butcher them in combat” the tired king roared at his fellow kinsmen. “Attack them before it’s too late. Catch them off guard. Eliminate the Reich from these lands.” The moment he ordered this, preparations for a sally were undertaken. It was not long now for both the Portuguese and the Reich…


    Ruprecht watches the city, waiting for the enemy to take the fight to him
    “Men put up your arms! Put down the siege at once! Get ready; they’re coming at us at full speed! Trust God and the Emperor and we will be dining in that city full of reeking fishermen by the afternoon!” cried Ruprecht. It was still morning but finally, finally the Portuguese had sallied forth, assaulting Ruprecht’s army of 1300 men. “HOLD THE LINE!” shouted Ruprecht in a fit of anger. The battle had begun.

    “Men of Portugal! This is our destiny! We will eliminate this scourge from our pristine lands! CHARGE!” cried out Rey Duarte as he lead his army towards the enemy, preparing to drive a wedge right through the barely prepared German line.


    The Valiant King leads his men against the Reich
    “Aim…. FIRE!” A multitude of crossbow bolts filled the air butchering the reckless Portuguese infantry. “FIRE!” Another row of the Portuguese lay dead. “FIRE” and another. But nothing could prevent their ferocious charge towards the crossbowman. In a matter of moments the crossbowman would either be run over or would have to flee.


    The Crossbowmen fire in vain to halt the Portuguese advance
    Only a single word could be heard in the chaos. “CHARGE!” One of Duarte’s generals charged headfirst at the left flank, the other charged at the right flank while the King charged at the fleeing crossbowman seeking an easy target to get warmed up on. The crossbowmen didn’t stand a chance. Ruprecht watched as his crossbowmen were slaughtered in combat or as they attempted to flee the freezing battlefield. “They shall pay…” Ruprecht growled as his blood boiled. “They costed a lot those mercenaries…” (Somewhat pragmatic and uncaring general Ruprecht was). The unlucky Portuguese militia heading his way didn’t get the message and with a single charge were sent to their maker.


    Ruprecht’s men bracing themselves for the bloody charge to come
    “Kill the generals! Target their leaders! Make sure none of them survive!” roared Ruprecht whose shout echoed in the minds of the Portuguese soldiers who opposed him, chilling their hearts and intent on fighting. As his men fought bravely against the Portuguese charge, the mercenary crossbowman retreated, attempting to outrun the Portuguese King heading their way in vain. Nothing could be done. In a matter of moments they were either skewered by lances or fighting for their lives. But Ruprecht had bigger problems.


    Duarte sweeps across the crossbowman, butchering the stragglers
    After finishing off the rest of the squad he had just wiped clean from the battlefield, Ruprecht noticed his line was starting to waver. Although a lowly militiaman killed the general on the right, the other was still alive, cutting down his men. He knew what to do and did what he was known for. His bodyguard charged at the back flank of his enveloping enemy.


    Ruprecht’s men deal with one of the enemy’s generals
    What happened next was miraculous. In a sudden assault, the crushed enemy’s footmen fled, fleeing the brave and enraged Beast. The general didn’t have the luxury and was slaughtered in the charge. Duarte was doomed. He watched from a distance as his men were sliced up and ripped apart by Ruprecht’s men and was helpless to stop his dreaded foe from entering the city. “One last charge my comrades. One last charge…” he muttered. A tear rolled down his cheek as he saw a kingdom’s last hours in history. “Farewell.”

    Ruprecht puts his enemy out of their pitiful misery
    “The enemy’s king is heading towards the town milord. What shall we do?” observed one of Ruprecht’s bodyguard companions. “What do you think?!” replied the impatient general as he headed towards the last king of Portugal. The last link to a kingdom that had once dominated the west of Spain. The last enemy of the battle. In a matter of moments the battle had finally ended. Duarte’s men finally abandoned their futile charge, hoping to flee the battlefield to live another day. They failed and paid the ultimate price. Duarte himself was captured, caged up like a rare exhibit of the last of an extinct species. In the winter of 1110, the world was silent, its people mourning the death of another empire on the outskirts of the Holy Roman Empire. Ruprecht was pleased and bored at the same time. “Argh…I’m sick of being called ‘the Brave.’ I’m better than that!” he muttered throwing the list of casualties his army had suffered on the day, 600 men dead… A messenger arrived at his manor a few seconds later. “Milord. The Emperor wishes to call you by a new name…Ruprecht the Merciless. Dispatch to Frankfurt immediately.”
    Ruprecht smiled…

    “"One can make this generalization about men: they are ungrateful, fickle, liars and deceivers, they shun danger and are greedy for profit...They would shed blood for you, risk their property, their lives, their sons, so long, as I said above, as danger is remote; but when you are in danger they turn away."-Niccolo Machiavelli in The Prince

    Once again enjoy

  10. #10
    Plutarch's Avatar Civitate
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    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III

    great job ippius, keep up the good work


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  11. #11
    Hex Khan's Avatar Oooooh Yeeeaah!!
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    Default Re: Outskirts of an Empire III


    Nice work Ippius see your standard isnt slipping long live the Reich!
    Historical Reenactor and Proud of it
    Winner of Best AAR Writer Award 2007

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