Thanks! I just added it in but it seemed to fit nicely. Anyhow, here is the next part Chapter 5, Part 2:
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Dyfnwal Castus of the Goddodin tribes marches on Ceirweir, our northernmost stronghold. It has, unfortunately, nothing more than a wooden palisade.
I march to meet him, and slaughter his army. While it is another victory, it is still not so impressive as my brother's. I outnumbered him by nearly two thousand. Even though many of my men were simple militiamen it was still a large margin.
These Goddodins still fight in the manner of our distant ancestors. They are fierce, it is true, but that is the style that lost to Rome centuries ago and is losing now to a bastardization of the Roman military machine. Their pikewalls cannot stand against our shieldwalls.
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And so I continued northward, investing Caer ys Gual and building my battering rams, just north of the Wall. It is the first time in generations that a Romano army has advanced beyond the crumbling structure. Mor has marched parallel to me and is preparing to assault Caerligualid of Strath Clyde. From what I understand he is quite confident.
As are my men, soldiers and companions alike. Many times I can find the younger lot, Fulvius, Glasobrin and Caedrieth and the brothers Merriadoc and Cadgor drinking or talking with the men, boasting of the exploits and loot they are clearly expecting. The others, my nobles and older guards, often discuss distant strategies other than those regarding the upcoming attack on this town.
Cynfarch and Bedwyr, King Cuenu’s old bodyguard, are all for fortifying this place against the inevitable storm, protecting our borders from raids and the like. In contrast, Elidir is always advocating new attacks as being the best forms of attack, quoting some author his father made him read.
While I respect Cynfarch and Bedwyr, I do not think their way is the best. They belong to the generation that lost these lands, the generation that allowed the Germanii invasions and our provinces to splinter into smaller kingdoms. Much as I would like to follow Fulvius’ advice to just conquer the “whole damn island,” I am fully aware that it will not be as easy as that. A more moderate strategy is needed. And so I sit with him and the younger men when time permits, but mostly I talk with Elidir and Macsen.
Elidir advocates a slow advance, fortifying our conquests as the older men suggested, but then marching on. Almost like the old legionary camps, but permanent. Macsen has proposed using any strongholds we gain as bait for the enemy, to draw him out and, once he is vulnerable, then we attack. I was not anticipating this much responsibility when I started this campaign. It is much to think on.
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And so here we prepare. Should I be successful in this endeavor, and I have no doubt that I shall, I will continue my march northward, probably to implement either Elidir or Macsen’s plan.
I have also surprised my men by sending for my wife and son. This northern campaign has so stripped our kingdom of soldiers that I fear for their safety. To this end Braith has ridden north and now accompanies my army; she rides free like a true Picti princess. The men grumble, and even Fulvius and Macsen seem uncomfortable, but I hope this coming battle will set aside their superstitious fears of being accompanied by a woman. Besides, what army has ever been unvisited by whores, and are they not women? Or soldiers' wives, or even the families of the merchants and tradesmen that sell us their goods and services. But it would seem that they see their leader’s wife as different. In any case, we shall soon see.
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From affar, we hear good news: Cadoc's assault on Caerguricon has been successful and Guened is finally expanding again after several years of stagnation.
High-King Caderyn of the Concilium assaults and captures Caergwrant.
But alas, it is not all good news
The King of the Iotingas, Wihtgar has arrived in the south, while the Angle Cyneweard leads a large force southwest. I am relieved that he at least marches away from our lands.
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Caer Ys Gual is soon taken. So too is Caerligualid; the people of Strath Clyde and the Goddodin Tribes will be in mourning these next days. Stripped of their defenses by battles in the field, they fell with hardly any fuss. Fulvius has compared it to a "walk in the park," at which others in my guard scoff, especially Aella, for he was wounded in our attack. It was fairly standard: batter breaches in the wall, form shieldwalls, through the breach and slay all in our way. At least in this hillfort Braith and Owain will be safe, for how could they not be? Surrounded by walls of stout wood and the steel of 3000 men, far from the Aenglisc, as Aella says his people should properly be called. Well, I shall wait out the winter in this hall of my enemy surrounded by my family, my friends, and of course my army.
Many of my men were confused at my choice to bring them here. On their journey they will pass by the remains of several old battlefields and ruined villages only to meet up with an occupying army. But it is not the north I fear; I fear the enemy I don't know. A fleet of Germanics could land on our shores at any time to unleash thousands of heathens on us. So I will bring my wife and child north, where I can protect them.
a month later
Everyone in my army is grateful for the rest; we have faced 3 fairly large battles over the last few months. Armor must be mended, wounds healed. My wife has scolded me viciously over the wounds I have taken several times since she arrived. Dear woman, behind her tough exterior she is only worried for me and with good reason. Sooner or later these wild Goddodin will realize the threat they face and will assemble a large warhost to come for me. Still, I have taken several wounds from arrow and spear already. She is frustrated with me for another reason; she is with child again, and who will protect her and her children if not me? This time it is only a feigned frustration, full of humour. If she smacks my head, well, what can I do but take her to bed? She is even still full of surprises. She has seen fit to give me advice on my command! Her father, the High-King Drest, apparently brought her on campaign with her at times. Her people favour not the balanced cavalry deployment favored by Roman manuals but instead concentrate many horsemen on one flank and set them forth in an overwhelming rush. I must say I find this idea intriguing, but who has heard of a woman advising on the manner battle should be conducted? I must say, however, that I am sorely tempted to try this out. Furthermore this wife of mine rides out with me and my guard as we patrol our new lands, in full armor. Now that she is here I have found to my surprise that my affection towards her has grown greatly, more than I had previously hoped for any sort of arranged marriage. We are quickly becoming friends. Every ride we take helps with this, and Owain is a strong connection between us. Before this, we were amiable with each other, albeit rather stiff and formal, like one would be with a distant friend. Now that she has escaped the confines of the court spending time with her comes much more naturally. In all fairness I cannot blame her, for it took me quite some time to adjust to the court life in Caer Ebrauc.
Macsen has said she is fiercer by far than the Goddodin warriors after seeing her ride; Meriadoc has begun rumors that she is like one of the warrior women of old, and Glasobrin boasts loudly that he is ordering better armor for her. I do not know if they are bored or insane or simply trying to keep the men's morale up as we both wait out the winter and hold our breaths in anticipation of the inevitable counterattacks, but it seems to be working, if that is indeed their goal.
Still, we cannot grow complacent. Soon I will continue my march north. I will take most of the army but will leave my trusted friend Caedrieith to watch my family and the caer. He is young but reliable. Too young, I think, for the battles to come. I have made up my mind that he will stay in Caer Ys Gual despite his many pleas for me to bring him along.
The men are happy but restless. They too know the dangers facing their homes and want nothing more than to "march north and thrash those filthy tribesmen." Fulvius laughs with them, but I know better. They will come.
Aella agrees with me. As an Angle he knows of his people's fight against ours, how viciously our people will defend their lands. "You beat off one army, punch through their lines and kill them. Then another shows up, and you rout them too. Then another horde, and another after that. That's how it was, lord. Endless Brittisc armies fanatically fighting invasion whether they be champions or peasants." However, rather than go i-Viking he settled in our lands, content to fight for Ebrauc, his adopted people. When I ask if he would now join one of those "Brittisc hordes," he seems surprised. "Of course!" he barks. "But I would expect it to be organized, with proper warriors and a real chance of victory. Not like those soft southern bastards with their who can blacked a field with a host of conscripts. No, a real army. Why do you think I settled in Ebrauc?" When he hears our men, mostly untested, boasting of their victories he looks, knowingly, to the north and then at me or to Macsen.
I believe I will soon have an opportunity to test my theories on heavy cavalry in real battle. I finally have enough men to form two solid companies. I will lead the first company in any engagements we enter, and my friend Macsen of Coed Celydonn the second. Macsen is a good man for this job. He served briefly with a distant cousin of his under the Concillium, then brought his experience back home to Ebrauc, and I will take any I can get.
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Cyneweard's rampage continues. The man has stormed across the heart of Briton during this winter and has already overthrown one of the smaller kingdoms in the heartlands of Britannia
Last edited by waveman; April 18, 2015 at 07:43 PM.
Thank you McScottish, I am certainly intending for it to last for quite a while.
Cast of Characters, Royal Family
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Deceased King of Ebrauc; fathered Mor, Gwrast and [princess], as well as his illegitimate son Dunawt, whom he later adopted. Died in an ambush by Deva Victrix
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Crowned King of Ebrauc before he was even 20, Mor is a king in the field: he has led armies for the majority of his reign, marching to punish the northmen who conspired to murder his father and brother Gwrast. Married to Gwenhwyfar; they have a son
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Denawt was born in Y Strafi to a family of the minor nobility and traders. Valiant acts in the field led to him catching Cuenu's attention, who later formally adopted him after it was realizing that Dunawt was his son. Dunawt punished the ruling elite of Deva Victrix and is campaigning against the Goddodin tribes. Married to Braith of Pictavia; they have a son, Owain
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Dunawt's older foster brother, Cynfyn impressed King Cuenu when his father brought him along on a trading mission. He was then trained to be a diplomat and has negotiated with most of the northern kingdoms.Cynfyn is proud of his brother and hopes his diplomatic abilities can make the strain on Dunawt easier. Also negotiated the marriage between Dunawt and Braith
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A princess of Pictavia, Braith is often referred to as wild. She dislikes the stiff protocal of court life in Ebrauc for extended periods of time. Married to Dunawt with a son, Owain.
Atia
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: widow of Gwrast, they have a son. Their wedding was rushed due to her pregnancy, if rumors are to be believed. Her marriage as nobility from around Lloidis also helped to pacify the region.
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Princess of Guened. Her marriage to Mor cemented an alliance between the British kingdoms of Guened and Ebrauc against the Germanic invaders. It took some time for her to adjust to the colder lands of Ebrauc
These need their pictures (obviously)
Gwrast: Younger brother of Dunawt and Mor, a rash, cheerful boy. Was killed by unknown assailants in the north
Old Queen: Cuenu's widow, disapproves of Dunawt
Last edited by waveman; April 19, 2015 at 08:19 PM.
Aella is an Angle warrior and strong swordsman who has settled in Ebrauc, around midway between Y Strafi in the north and the capital of Ebrauc. He is a quiet and taciturn man with several years of campaign experience and rumored to be an ex-viking. Is beginning to open up as he starts to feel more accepted by his Romano-British comrades
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An older man in Dunawt's guard, Cynfarch Sanctus hails from an old Roman family. His oldest sons were killed by Germanic raiders.
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A young man from a very small village by Y Strafi and third son of its headman, Caedrieith snuck away from his father's house to beg Dunawt to take him as a companion to Ebrauc after Dunawt's adoption. Has yet to have a real taste of war beyond skirmishes
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Macsen of Coed Celyddon is another minor noble from around Y Strafi, and is known for his abilities with the spear. His father was a military adviser to King Cuenu before he lost a leg to a Seax axe
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Son of one of the most powerful of Ebrauc's lords, Elidir was always superior to Dunawt and the others, but frequently made time for them. Well-versed in the classics and military theory, he had always expected to serve in Ebrauc's military, and so offered himself to serve in Dunawt's guard
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Son of the sons of legionaries, Fulvius lacks noble blood. However, this did not stop him from spending his time with nobles, both because he enjoyed their company and as a way of advancement. He tries to find humor in most situations and was a key factor in the young Dunawt's escapades, before he was recognized as royalty.
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Gundoland is the son of wealthy traders in Ebrauc. As the second son, he needed a profession and so trained to be a noble's bodyguard
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Thelonius is the descended from legionaries who deserted rather than abandon their lives in Britannia when they were called to do so by the Empire. Understands ships and the sea, and grew up along the River Ouse, the southern boarder of Ebrauc
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Another Angle, nephew of Aella. Is in training to become another guard, as recommended by Aella
Llawr of Argoed: A minor noble from the lands just north of Ebrauc
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Brother of Cadgor, he is young, brash and always ready to laugh with Fulvius. Wants to prove himself in battle
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Brotherof Meriadoc, he is the more serious of the two, but not by a lot. An excellent horseman
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A lesser king of the Pictavi, he reigns over much of the western portion of the country, which often sees attacks from the Gaels of Dal Riata
*As a side note, I made up some of these characters, and others were made by the game in later turns and then inserted into the story
**There will be more characterization to happen. My original plan was to just write about the campaign events, but since I've already assigned these characters traits and personalities and the like, I will be branching out a bit
Last edited by waveman; June 19, 2015 at 06:28 PM.
We sit in the great hall of Caer Ys Gual around a great circular table. It is massive; some forty men can fit around it without touching elbows. Smoke drifts lazily from the hearth, only to be disturbed as Cynfarch, the last member of the war council, arrives in the hall and takes his seat.
"Old man probably got lost," mutters Fulvius, which earns him a glare from Elidir.
"Ave," I say to begin the meeting. "Tonight we will decide on out plans for the future. We have provisions and clear supply lines, so we should have freedom in our planning. Now what are your thoughts?"
This question clearly catches many of the older men off-guard. I can only guess that they are used to commenting on plans made by commander and the most senior nobles and cnihte.
After a brief silence Meriadoc stands and proposes that we march out in search of a Goddodin army. This draws laughs from the room, prompting him to sit, his face red.
Cynfarch coughs, then stands. "We should repair the palisade of the caer. The Goddodins will surely attack us. They can break themselves on our walls." Many of the older captains are nodding. "You said it: we have the provisions. Let them besiege us if they want. I have yet to see a level of organization from them that rivals even my gardeners."
Many of the men thump the table in agreement. But there are some that remain unconvinced, even among the veterans. One of them, a standard bearer from some company of miles, stands as Cynfarch sits down. "What if they bring more men?" Then he sits. Having made his contribution, he looks as if he would like to sink into the wooden walls behind him.
The brevity of his question shocks most of us. He gives no explanation, no reasons! Cynfarch looks affronted to have been questioned by him; Macsen is now leaning towards the man. I raise an eyebrow at him but he simply smiles and shakes his head.
Elidir is the next to speak: "From what I know," he says slowly, drawing out the word,"the Goddodins are a confederation of tribes under a high-king of sorts. That is why we have faced small opposition so far. We have been fighting smaller tribes. When he can rally all the tribes, then we will be in trouble. That is all."
"Aye, these things take time," adds Macsen. "The king sends messages to the chiefs, who call up their lords, who call up their retainers, who call up their levies. Its a lot of men, yes, but it takes a while."
Meriadoc stands again, just beating Bedwyr. "So we should march out and keep taking them tribe by tribe! Or before they can gather! It's been easy so far!"
He is greeted by roars of approval. "But," I say, "we have been waiting out the winter here. Several months have passed, surely they will have organized something by now." Meriadoc sits abruptly, muttering "Oh for the love of..."
His brother thumps his shoulder.
Now it is Bedwyr's turn. All eyes turn to him. "We should march," he says, then continues, struggling to make himself heard over the calls of approval and arguements that break out. "Not, not like they said. We should go carefully. We need to."
This silences even me. Why should we need to. "Why-"
"Because ours is not the only campaign that matters. If we fall behind, if we wait, then that leaves your brother the king open to being flanked. So we much march evenly with Mor, as evenly as we can. We must go, but we must scout thoroughly and be for ready for whatever may come."
No one has better idea than this. It is agreed upon, and the preparations for the march begin.
After everyone leaves the council, I walk over to Macsen. He smiles at me. "Before you ask, yes I payed that miles to ask the question."
"But why not just ask the question yourself?" I ask him. He is usually a straightforward man.
Macsen sighs and leans forward on the bench, resting his elbows on the table. "I needed to weaken his argument more. I don't know, show that the common men are against it. Most of them are, you know, they want to end this campaign and return home. They don't want to get stuck in a siege with no hope of relief. "
"And one that we couldn't be sure of waiting out, or winning in an assault."
He smiles. "Precisely. So now we will march, for better or worse."
Ahh.. have I built it up enough? There's a big battle a-commin'! Braith is right to be worried about her husband's well-being
Aaaah, to me, this short update is perhaps among the best so far You can almost feel the tension among the officers, the differences between veteran and newbye soldiers' opinions, and the veteran's "plot" is definitively a nice touche. Nice job, waveman, eagerly waiting for the big bad battle a-commin'!
It began with small warbands shadoing my foragers, the odd horseman observing us from the trees. But has grown since then. We all know it. The cocky air that prevaded the fort just weeks ago is gone now, for over 2000 Goddodins await us on the field of slaughter. Who are we to deny them? We will march. We will march out to meet them for if we do not we are surely lost. They will raise more men until we are besieged and vastly outnumbered. We had already resolved to meet them in the field, and so we shall.
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As the snow melts I march north. In the harsh weather my scouts failed to notice a further thousand men that they have met up with the first force. It is too late for regret; I will lead my outnumbered men against them before yet more reinforcements can join them.
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For I can use the foul weather of this Spring to my advantage. My men groan at having to trudge up rain-sodden hills, sinking to their calves in mud while struggling against rain, wind and sleet. But it is worth it. I ride amongst them, urging them on and up the hill. "March! Get up the Hill! You think this is hard? What if you were struggling up this hill towards and enemy, and spears landing around you? March!"
They continue up the hill with renewed vigour.
Macsen rides ahead with our light cavalry and begins to harass the enemy.
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I will hold the high ground and the Goddodins, furious at their past defeats, will break on our shields and spears like ocean waves crashing on a cliff face.
I split my bodyguard in half and send Macsen of Coed Celydonn in command of one half to do what damage he can, while I lead the other. it is bloody work and many of our horsemen fall. They are outnumbered by the Goddodin light horse.
I reform my lines at the top of the steep hill and begin marching toward the Goddodins. They charge forward, howling in a savage frenzy ready to crash upon my lines, full of rage and hate. Their howls send chills down my spine, and I can see that they make many of the miles uneasy. They shift and look around uneasily. Even some of my bodyguard are visibly unsettled, such as Merriado. I hope I don't show my unese. 164
I am surprised by a quiet voice beside me. "Blow the horns." It is Cynfarch.
"What?"
"Sound the horns. It will reassure the men."
Since he is well-acquainted with war against these northern tribesmen, I follow his advice, gesturing towards my signallers. To my relief the sound has the intended effect.
Then the Goddodins charge in earnest, hurling themselves at our shields, using spears and shields to gain purchase as they struggle up the slippery slopes.
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It is a bloodbath. At my center their Rherel, heavy spearmen armored in fine coats of mail, wreak havoc on my miles, simple soldiers and tear bloody swathes through the bonhweddyr, men who fight as light infantry in the tradition of their distant forefathers.
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I lead over 100 heavy cavalry in repeated charges on their right flank, but to no avail. Around me my men fall: Bedwyr, Blaidhh, Cerwin, Fulvius. Javelin, axe, spears. So many. My center is thinning, while my archers are being slaughtered. I hear Macsen's horn sounding desparately. My spear shatters on a Rherel's shield; these men fight like demons. I draw my sword and hack at him, panting with exertion, half blinded by rain.
Everything goes black, sliced brutally by white. My side burns with fire, with pain, and I roar, and hack viciously down, cleaving through the man's scale armor and deep into his shoulder. Then Ælla is here, gripping my horse's reigns and pulling me back. My bannerman falls, a javelin embedded deep in his back, but another man grabs the banner and raises it high. Then there is a roar of triumph and screams of distress; Ælla leads me to the rear as I try to fight him off, to return to the battle. To return to my men.
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All is confusion.
"All is lost!" Someone is shouting that.
Oh, it is Aella. He seems so distant. And now, he is screaming something else:
"..to protect your family!" I shake my head trying to clear it, to clear my eyes.
Then a Goddodin warhorn sounds. It is sounding the advance. The advance. I howl, those bloody, bloody bastards. "BASTARDS!" I scream. I rip the reins from Ælla's hands and kick my horse into the enemy. My guard, loyal men all, follow me into death or to pull me back from it. I know not which, just that they follow me.
The Goddodin horn rings again.
And again.
And again.
And is cut short.
I look up and through the rain i see distant figures running down the hill. Down. "The Goddodin flee!" someone shouts, and the cry is taken up by my men. I press my horse into the attack again and swing my sword wildly, half-blinded by pain. My men push forward with renewed vigor, shields firm, spears bloody, eyes resolute. The tribesmen hold for a few minutes, then break and stream down the hill. We pursue them, or rather my men do, for I am spent. I wave my remaining horse forward.
Sitting there at the crest of the hill, shattered armor and cracked spears all around, the dead and the dying strewn haphazardly among friend and foe alike, I feel a great sense of relief. We lost many, many men, but so many more sons of Ebrauc could have fallen to lie half covered in blood and mud, piss and excrement. It could have been them being silenced while calling for their mothers. It could have been our lands left open for havoc and pillage and rape and slaughter.
Ælla and some of my guard hold me on my horse as I grip my side. My vision fades.
Well...pretty much anything I could say, I told you by PM I'm really, really liking it, and the screenshots, in particular, are outstanding and thrilling. I might even go as far as saying you could consider submitting in the current MAARC, even though being this the last day of the month I don't know if you're going to be eligible. Perhaps Merchant will extend it for one more week, as only three AARs have been submitted. I honestly think your work could compete, even though I have to tell you - Lugotorix and McScottish's AARs are tough, if not impossible, nuts to crack!
Anyway, nice job!
Thank you. I'm a little late for this one, but I may try for the next!
Actually, I think you could still enter - there have only been three submissions so far, and - as Roman Heritage hinted - the rules (in the OP of the thread RH linked to), say:
"If there are less than 5 nominations, the submission period is extended for one week, followed by a poll with reduced rewards."
Don't feel you have to enter, though - it's entirely up to you. Your AAR will be just as good either way.
Speaking of which, nice updates! I agree with Roman Heritage that the war council was great - the divisions within the council are interesting in themselves, and a good way to show why the final decision went the way it did. And the battle was dramatic. I hope we haven't seen the last of Dunawt - he's a great character!
Great chapter! You convey the desperation, confusion, loss and struggle of the battle brilliantly with a few words. It's good to see that you have entered the MAARC.
Hmm, I'm really bad with these self-imposed deadlines. I'm either significantly earlier or later than I say I'll be. And ironically this post is mainly to say that I'm hoping to update tonight...
Thanks demagagos, I've usually played as Rome or Regnum Brittonum but I decided to branch out and I'm very glad I did. Ebrauc is quite a fun and interesting faction. And I'd say go for it! I hadn't played it for a year or two but redownloaded it on a whim and here I am now, writing about it
Alwyn- thanks, and I'm glad I could bring that sense to the battle; it was very chaotic, close, and hard to manage
I did it again! Well, I'm going to post an update or two TODAY, ITS GONNA HAPPEN
Last edited by waveman; May 08, 2015 at 09:36 AM.
Reason: wanted to reply in a single post
I wake to see several faces staring intently at me. "He lives!" cries a familiar voice. A roar rises from outside the tent. I am in a tent. Not a battlefield. Boistrous singing erupts. I can hear distant laughter, and even cheering.
Ælla's hard face breaks into a grin as he looks down at me. "The men have been waiting all night to hear if you lived, lord. Your desire to stay with them to the end has.... inspired them."
It is a compliment and an insult all in one: my courage is admirable, but my foolishness is just as great.
"As have we all, lord!" says Fulvius.
"But, but," I stammer, trying to think. "You were dead!"
"We all were," says Macsen. "But then... out of nowhere, we snatched victory."
"Praise God," a priest interjects, nearly cutting off Fulvius, who glares at the man before continuing.
"And I should be dead, I really should be. They hamstrung my horse and speared my arm, but as I fell to the ground another charge came; I was pinned under Goddodin corpses. And so I lived. It was close." He closes his eyes, face pale.
"Close indeed, and for all of us," I agree. "So tell me brothers, what happened, and who is lost to us?"
Another man steps forward out of the shadows. "They have brought me here for that, lord." He seems familiar to me, though I cannot say why.
My guard identify him as the man who rushed forward and raised my banner when the standardbearer was slain. Someone introduces him as Eiryf, from the hills of Argoed west and north of Ebrauc. He mumbles something.
"Speak up, boy, the lord can't hear you," Cynefarch rebukes him.
"Apologies, lord." Eiryf says. He is louder now, though some would still call his speach mumbling. " After you... were wounded, you charged the enemy." He glances at my companions, and they nod encouragingly. "We... I saw your banner-man fall." Poor Geryn. "So I grabbed the banner and held it aloft, to inspire the men. The center was weakening you see. Their damned Rherel. The left, where we were, was holding, but only just, and more Goddodin were streaming up the hill, screaming for our deaths. My comrades thrust me back that I could protect the standard better and because I was wounded. Because of this, I saw the change. Suddenly, the enemy on our right flank seemed to hesitate, then broke. That was where our own Rherel was."
I nod. I had deployed my heaviest infantry on the right, to be led by Meriadoc and Cadgor, my heaviest cavalry primarily on the left, to be led by myself and Macsen.
"They killed the enemy general and the men surrounding him fled. Many of our men pursued them, and Lord Macsen urged them on greatly, and they inflicted grievous losses on them there, lord, while others turned towards the center and surrounded the enemy there. At this point the enemy broke, and were ridden down, for the most part." He shrugs. "There is not much more to say, other than that we were greatly inspired when you returned, though wounded."
Fulvius steps forward, his face grim. "We have lost near 600 men, including Bedwyr, Geryn, Blaidhh.... others too. Another 4-500 wounded. But the Goddodin dead number in the thousands."
"How many?"
He hesitates, licks his lips, thinking. "I can safely say almost two thousands. But some are saying it is even above three thousand."
Such carnage. Where the fighting was thickest bodies lay heaped on each other, while dying men still scream from the muddy ground. Many more have drowned in the puddles caused by the incessant downpour, and down the hill lies a path of bloody ruin. While the final casualty counts may not reflect it, my victory was a near thing. The companies in my center were slaughtered and my cavalry was ravaged. But they held and they inflicted grave losses on the Goddodin while my flanks pressed inexorably onward and down the hill. Cuenu's shieldwall has proved its worth yet again, and now so has my heavy horse.
Abroad:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
This has been a bloody month. Elsewhere, Drustun Britannacus marches forces south in Guened to take the mountain strongholds to try to bring Dyfed into the grater domain of Guened. There are endless skirmishes by the borders of Regnum Britonum, the Concilium, and the Angli. The Seax under Cenhelm, Creoda and Cymen have raised a force several thousands strong. Two more kings see action; King Wihtgar of the Iotingas ravages the eastern counties of Regnum Britonum, leading the rich city of Aquae Solis to revolt - they claim they were not well enough protected- but King Wuffa of the Angli was defeated by the Concilium, so not all goes in favor of the Germanii.
May, 1 month later
I gather what men I can draw from the north and even hire a few keels of Germanic mercenaries, while my man Elidir of Dunuting leads several hundred horse north to join me from Ebrauc. They are sorely needed. Regardless, I must press on northward even before they can arrive.
The fugitives from the last battle, the Battle of the Northway, as the men have taken to calling it, have taken refuge in a nearby fort. We must finish what we started. They must fall.
I think this name is apt for this battle has opened the way to the north. I do not expect much resistance in the near future. Those losses will be hard for the Goddodins to replace.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
In the south, Cyneweard's fame grows; he has defeated invasions from both the Conciliium and Regnum Britonum these past months. He is truly a leader to be watched, adept at leading thousands of men
Blue= Regnum Britonum; White= Concillium Britanniae; Grey= Ænglalond; Yellow (dull)= Guened; Reddish Brown= Ebrauc
Seaxna, Iotingas have miniscule territories on the S coast.
At the bottom of the map can be seen Roma and the Regnum Francorum; at the top left Ui Neill (yellow), Connacht (light green), Mumhan (dark green)
*Aquæ Solis is the rebel "grey hole" in the middle of the eastern Regnum Brittonum territory and bordering the white Concillium territory
Cenhelm the Seax has attacked Murthach of the Regnum Britonum and broken much of his army; his kinsmen have beseiged Cissaceaster, led by one Creoda
(this picture is from justbefoer, to show the leaders Cenhelm, Cymen and Creoda {So many names with C's!})
Time moves on, however, closer to home:
The Goddodins have again attacked me. They meant to harass my forces from two sides but they will find me hard to catch in a trap. I hid my men behind a hill, then ambushed and slaughtered one of the forces seeking to attack me. The other fled The field after the ambush; the Goddodin fugitives can be seen fleeing in the distance.
Aye, they fell readily enough, but how many battles can my men face in such a short span of time? And the other force escaped entirely. We need some rest and respite. The corpse-crows grow fat with the offerings we leave them, while my men tire, their blades gather chips as a Roman Emperor counts his coins, their shields beginning to crack.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
The men now think of me as fearless, and I hear my reputation is becoming known throughout these isles. Still, it cannot match with that of Cyneweard the Ænglisc or High-King Caderyn of the Concilium who must fight on all fronts to maintain his kingdom. Still, it is a start and the men are fiercely loyal to me, and my body clearly shows the marks of war, especially after the Battle of the Northway.
Even more good news, for the year 458 has been a good one. My brother the King has pacified Caerligualid and marched north of the Wall of Hadrian and is intent on taking Caerwendelau
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
And Braith has also given birth again! "Another fine son," she says, and I can clearly see the pride in her eyes, but I must march with my men to continue this war. It is a good thing that she is a strong woman, for she is still sometimes viewed as a foreigner and has only just begun to make some friends and allies in our lands. But I must go, I must guide my men to victory, for a successful campaign.
She has decided we will call the boy Gwrast, after my fallen brother. Another little man of Y Strafi; I could not be happier. I can only hope that after this war I will be able to spend some time with my sons, and perhaps even visit my family in Y Strafi before the duties of running a country claim me again. And yet, while the peace - and I say here peace while it is only a brief calm before another maelstrom of violence is sure to erupt, but I will take every moment of peace I can get - while this peace lasts I feel free riding with my companions in this beautiful country; were I born to a Goddodin mother I would fight just as hard to protect it as they are. And it is good to be away from Braith. She is beautiful, yes, and clever, but sometimes she thinks herself too clever. The fresh air is nice. And while I'm sure I'm lucky to have wed here and not some heathen daughter of a Germanii chief, I wish that Mor would have warned me how marriages go, rather than only complaining about how "wild" his new bride was - at least she has some Roman blood in her, diluted though it may be.
Soon these thoughts leave me. I will continue my march and I must be focused and ever vigilant as we pass through these forests. I cannot fail, for to do so would be to jeopardize my country and my new family
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
War continues on: Caltram of Fotla is shadowing Fiachnae of Dal Riata, harrassing his army. Geraint of the Regnum Britonum has withdrawn from Cirrenceaster after the defeat of his countryman Murthach by the Seax. .
Creoda and Cenhelm then take the city and burn it; a sad day for Britain.
Cyneweard continues to prove his invincibility, defeating yet more Concillium forces. Since his invasion the Concillium forces seem to have lost most of their cohesion and coordination, except for those men under their High-King Caderyn, but he is fighting the Seax to the East trying desperately to defend Londinium.
Fiachnae marches farther inland into Pictavia, shadowed distantly by Caltram of Fotla. Caltram's lands have been ravaged by the Dal Riatans
Last edited by waveman; May 24, 2015 at 12:25 PM.
Reason: Æ
Just found some spare time to read it - writing and updating my own AAR took me quite some time - and, as usual, nice job I'm curious about what will you do next. Also, the Saxons seem to be strenghtening - may God bless the unification of the whole of Britannia under Ebrauc's rule, for these heathens know no mercy nor forgivness!
As a sidenote, you might be interested to know that your AAR actually convinced me to take a look at Invasio Barbarorum. I downnloaded the Vandal campaign and an overhaul submod - and I must admit I now understand why you chose this mod. The overall look, grittiness, and scenario is amazing, the only thing which bogs me down being the absence of unit markers. I corrected it a thousand times and it still resets to the default value...anyway, thank for making me discover this little masterpiece, and, as a last word, let me bid you good luck for the probable threeway poll for the third place in the MAARC!
Braith sat on the roof of the chieftain's old hall at Caer ys Gual.The men of the garrison had resisted her efforts to have a stairway up to there built, adamantly insisting that it was not fitting for a princess or new mother to be there, or claiming that they had not yet recovered from their wounds yet.
She smiled a secret smile, looking down at her son Gwrast, whom she was cradling in her lap. As soon as she had brought up Dunawt they had leapt to the task. How the man inspired such love from his men was beyond her understanding. Was it because he had not been a prince for so long? That he understood them? Simply because he was a good general by all accounts? Even before the Battle of the Northway they had been like that.
Whatever the reason, these men would do anything for their captain. They threw down their lives by the dozen to safeguard his life in a chaotic and sprawling battle in the rain-soaked north not 2 weeks ago, but when the wounded were deposited at the Caer they talked not of their losses or hurts but of how brave Lord Dunawt threw himself into the fray where it was thickest and the the Goddodins were beginning to break the Ebrauc shieldwall, a feat the tribesmen could never seem to fully complete.
Bouncing Gwrast on her knees, she gazed northward. Oh how she longed for the forests and glens of Pictavia, the icily refreshing streams and the warm villages. If there was one good thing directly for her to come of her husband's campaign it was that he was steadily reaching farther and farther north, easing the pressure that her father, High-King Drest, was facing by all of the northern tribes.
Eventually she might even get to visit her family, if her lord husband continued to be so successful. Still, the thought of him battling his way all the way to Pictavia made her uneasy: the man had a way of attracting trouble and he was collecting scars at an alarming rate. While she had no doubts that her family by law would look after her should something happen to Dunawt, such an event would surely not be to her favor or her sons. And she missed Gwenhwyfar.
As if sensing her sour mood Gwrast began to cry. Shushing him gently, the Braith began to walk back down the stairs to the warmth and cheer of the hall.
Dunawt, two weeks prior
My side aches feircely. It has not fully healed yet. The Goddodins have been defeated yet again. The rain-sodden fields can attest to that; Goddodin corpses lay strewn about them. In the rain and confusion it was so hard to know what was happening. I am just glad we stil paint our shields in the Roman way. It makes our men recognizable to each other as friends.
We will push on soon. We must be exhausting their reserves. I know it. As we march further north we hear of discontent spreading through the lands - the people are not happy to be fighting a losing war and to have suffered so much loss. We are closer than ever to a victory in this long war, I know it.
This is the battle sight. I have two routes open to me: I can march westward into the mountain valleys, or north to Din Eidin, the capital of the Goddodins. Prince Gwalchmai is in the western valley but has made no moves against us; perhaps he no longer supports his father. Since he has not provoked us I have decided that we will continue to march north. Hopefully if we kill the king and take their capital, the Goddodins will submit.
Abroad: Guened has taken Talgarth, a mountain fort, led by a new warlord called Drustan Britannicus, while the Aenlgli brazenly march past our lands, led by Lord Tytila. I may soon have to return to the south. However, one good thing did come of Tytila's march: the Ængli of the peninsula to the east of Ebrauc and Dwrwyn, thorns in our side for many years, have rebelled. Only time will reveal what effects this development will have.
Thank you, and congratulations yourself (again). I admit I have not played the Vandal campaign, but I love the Britannia campaign for those reasons. And the lack of markers is definitely strange, but I got used to it. I was surprised when they were gone as one of the older versions of the mod still had them I think, but they got cut out at some point. As for where my campaign is going, well, creeping northward
Re: The Tin Isles [IB2 Conqvuestvs Britanniae]
Cyneweard's rampage continues. The man has stormed across the heart of Briton during this winter and has already overthrown one of the smaller kingdoms in the heartlands of Britannia
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Atia
Originally Posted by waveman
You can almost feel the tension among the officers, the differences between veteran and newbye soldiers' opinions, and the veteran's "plot" is definitively a nice touche. Nice job, waveman, eagerly waiting for the big bad battle a-commin'!
I'm really, really liking it, and the screenshots, in particular, are outstanding and thrilling. I might even go as far as saying you could consider submitting in the current 
. 
I'm curious about what will you do next. Also, the Saxons seem to be strenghtening - may God bless the unification of the whole of Britannia under Ebrauc's rule, for these heathens know no mercy nor forgivness! 
