The Battle of Towton

[Barry Goldwater]

The day has come. On March 29th 1461, the armies of Lancaster and York will clash on a field between the otherwise insignificant towns of Towton and Saxton, and through their battle - one of the largest and surely soon to be the bloodiest on English soil in known history, featuring 45,000 combatants total led by many of the kingdom's noble peers - they will determine the next ruler of England. From the north, the Lancastrians have emerged atop a plateau with their flanks secured by marshland and the Renshaw Woods, while in the south the Yorkists have established themselves atop a great ridge, with the dangerously waters of the Cock Beck to the west and a field where much of the killing will surely occur lying between the two armies. The White and Red Roses have now firmly entwined with one another, determined to strangle their rival to death, and come the end of this wintry day only one of the two can continue to grow in the spring sun while the other wilts beneath the victor's thorns.

Weather conditions

17 = Snowfall 19 (15 + 4 due to there being snowfall) = Heavy wind 3 = Snow blowing up (north), AGAINST Lancaster

Victory conditions

Three simple ones, attaining any one will grant your side victory: 1. Inflict 25% casualties (dead/routing) on the opposing side, just like at Ferrybridge. 2. Kill Edward of March (for York) or the Duke of Somerset (for Lancaster). 3. The arrival of the Duke of Norfolk's forces on Round 5 will grant automatic victory to York, as it more or less did in history. This will prevent the battle from dragging on forever: with 45 units on the map it'll already take me many hours to do a single round, I don't expect I'll be able to do more than 2 rounds a day at best - frankly I'm not looking forward to the prospect of adding five more units to constantly roll for on top of that - and I'm sure everyone is aware that the longer it takes to get this introductory battle out of the way & dive into the meat of the game (all the courtly intrigue and RP), the lower the game's chances of survival will drop.

[Barry Goldwater]

OOC: So as I said before, I won't be doing any fancy write-ups to describe what happened or jot down the dice rolls like I did with Ferrybridge, instead focusing solely on delivering the results of said rolls with one or two sentences describing what people did to maximize speed. Fortunately, this first round saw barely any action.

Round 1

Both sides barely moved this round, with the overwhelming majority of the Yorkists standing on their ridge and a smaller majority of the Lancastrians doing the same on their plateau. The only maneuvers that occurred was a single unit of Yorkist light infantry detached from Lord Fauconberg's battaile and the Lancastrian right wing (two units of light foot, one of yeomen) under Oxford & Clifford both making for Castle Hill Wood. The Yorkists, with a superior initiative roll, got there first and attacked the lead elements of the Oxford-Clifford battaile, inflicting surprisingly high casualties, before being evicted and sent reeling back to the ridge under the pressure of the numerically far superior Lancastrians. The Lancastrians now hold Castle Hill Wood, although enough of the Yorkist unit sent there survived to warn the rest of the Yorkist army.

Casualties

York: 240 light infantry Lancaster: 350 light infantry

Also, as first blood has been shed and to give both sides an idea of where everyone is, I will show the round 1 maps/deployments (York didn't send me a map, just battailes and orders, but that's OK this time b/c said orders were super simple) for both sides this round. I've edited out superfluous or sensitive information that isn't known already, ex. both sides' attempts to flank the other at Castle Hill Wood. I won't do so for future rounds unless I deem it necessary (ex. people appear to be confused where certain units or characters have ended up).

Lancastrian map

Light brown: Light infantry. Green: Yeomen Longbowmen. Black: Militian Lonbowmen. Dark Brown: Heavy Footmen. Red: Men-at-arms. Blue: Knights. The army stands deployed on the hill as shown on the pic. Oxford's flanking force is to take the established course, as arranged on the meeting.

Yorkist deployments

Warwick's Battaile 2,000 Militia Longbowmen 4,000 Light Footmen They will defend the right flank. Bourchier Surrey will be assigned here as well. Edward's Battaile 1,000 Knights 2,000 Yeomen Longbowmen 3,000 Heavy Footmen They will be in the center. Edmund Kyriell Roger Kyriell can be assigned here too. Fauconberg's Battaile 3,000 Militia Longbowmen 4,000 Light Footmen I want them to be on the left flank. I want 1,000 light footmen to march at all speed to Castle Hill Wood to see if they can ambush and delay any flanking forces. Herbert will lead them. Bastard Fauconberg can be assigned here too. Hastings's Battaile 1,000 Men-at-Arms They will be in reserve and will fill in any holes in the lines.

[Oznerol]

Beaufort overlooked the battlefield atop his barded stallion. The closely fit Milanese armor is covered by an heraldic surcoat, with the heraldy of Beaufort, that of the realm differenciated by a bordure. He is surrounded by his staff including several prominent Lancastrian noblemen like: John Neville, Baron Neville (grandson of the 1st Earl of Westmorland), Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, the de Vere brothers, Richard Fieness 7th Baron Dacre and Thomas Ros 9th Baron de Ros. All were identified by their coat of arms and fluttering banners, there gathered the Neville gauntlets, the starry heraldry of Oxford, the differenciated arms of Tudor and the three water bouquets of Ros. However, over all those proud standards was displayed the royal arms of Henry VI, those of France and England impaled. The army was deployed on the hill, rows upon rows of armed men and longbowmen. The silvery batallion of knights around Beaufort standed over the muddied colors worn by the militiamen; the men-at-arms wore colourful liveries, many wearing the blue-and-white of Lancaster and Beaufort. His visor raised, Somerset looked at the Holland heraldry displayed on his right and the Percy colors on his left. Beaufort raised a hand and made a signal for Oxford and Clifford, they were to march towards Castle Hill Wood; trumpets signaled their departure, a significant host made up of Oxford and Clifford's own men.

[Blastoise Groudon]

The King and his noblemen are on the ridge. They received word about skirmish at the woods and he smiles. He expected that to happen and partially regrets not sending more men although he is pleased they lost more then he did. Now he sits back and waits for their next move.

[Barry Goldwater]

"The traitors ambushed the lead elements of our force as they entered Castle Hill Wood, my lord. By God's grace and the number of our ranks we have managed to expel them from these trees, but it is estimated that we have lost at least three hundred men to their two hundred."

Oxford dismissed the messenger with a wave of his hand and a snarl. First the wind and snow blew in the Lancastrians' faces as they advanced southward, and now somehow the Yorkists had managed to reach Castle Hill Wood ahead of him & Clifford. Sure, the rebels were apparently small enough in number that he was able to drive them out from the forest, but they had inflicted more losses on his men than they had sustained, and as they had gotten away they'd surely give away the Lancastrian flanking plan to their false king & his officers. At least his men and Clifford's had finally secured the position they were supposed to, though, so the strategy he had worked out with Somerset and the others was still mostly working. The old Earl now propped himself up against a snow-covered tree, and waited for further orders from Somerset.

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Round 2

Another mostly uneventful round, where both sides stuck to their established positions for the most part. The Lancastrians did send their archers forward to fire on the Yorkist lines, but the harsh winter winds blew against them and greatly hampered their longbowmen's effectiveness, reducing their visibility and range. The Yorkists shifted a few infantry and cavalry units around in their main line but did not actually advance off their ridge, and their own archers' counter-fire proved effective against the Lancastrians due to the wind carrying their arrows forward (also, some good rolls). Though Edward of March had given his men the order to attack if they should sustain too many losses from Lancastrian fire, the sleet and winds had reduced the power of the Red Rose's thorns to the point where such a direct attack was deemed unnecessary for the time being.

Casualties

York: 250 militia archers 120 yeomen Lancaster: 420 militia archers 150 yeomen

[Gandalfus]

Both sides seemed to have reached a standstill, merely exchanging arrow fire instead of actually moving forward to engage. Fauconberg stood motionless, observing the Lancastrian arrows faltering against the struggling winds. We should be using this to our advantage. Instead, they sat doing nothing, as the soldiers of both armies began to numb in the snow.


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[Jokern]

Lord Surrey gazed over at the opposing Lancastrian army with growing annoyance, grabbing his sword hilt harder and harder. Yet again, his search of glory on the battlefield was denied. here they stood on their little hill, not moving an inch and letting the arrows fly like little birds. Where were the glorious charges and clashing of steel? Surrey was not pleased just standing there, but there was no way around it without incurring the wrath of March or Warwick, men far more powerful than himself. So he kept his ground, though begrudgingly, waiting for his father and his men.

[Oznerol]

The air. The snow. Our arrows can't reach them.

Beaufort looked as his archers retreated, defeated by their Yorkist counterparts. Even if the blizzard was raging, no one dared to move an inch; the fabled boldness of March was tempered by someone else, it seemed, for even if seething with anger the claimant hadn't marched towards the Lancastrian ranks. Somerset's horse paws the ground, nervous, as his rider pondered what to do. He looked to his staff and retainers, the squire holding the reins and the lance.

"This is going no-where"

Said Beaufort.

"Send word to Clifford and Oxford, they shall advance and meet their left flank"

Somerset lowered his visor. Riders were swiftly dispatched to Oxford's position.

"Onwards men of Lancaster! Charge! Archers in front, men-at-arms behind! Brace your lances and swords, men of the King! Onwards! We will teach the cub what a lion truly is! God is with us!"

Banners fluttered in the snow as trumpet signaled the charge. Thousands of feet thunderously marched to meet the Yorkists in battle.

[Gandalfus]

As the Lancastrians advanced, Fauconberg grit his teeth, fingers drumming against the hilt of his blade. The snow was falling in earnest, the wind against Lancaster. Beaufort had spotted this, and sounded the charge.

"Archers!" He bellowed, and they stepped a few paces forward. Orders were passed through the ranks, with horns and trumpets sounding din notes to herald the beginning of a volley. Behind them, the previously lax infantry stood to attention, bracing themselves for any eventual charge, stepping backwards to increase the distance from them to the lines of Lancaster.

---

Holland had watched impassively, surrounded by various knights and retainers as the tit for tat began in the snow. Slowly, word had come from the centre of Beaufort's orders, the sounding of the charge. Unsmiling, he nodded to his officers, and his soldiers took up the cry of "Exeter! Exeter and Lancaster!" They would march down from the high ground and take the fight to the Yorkists, before the archers give them victory.




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[Lucius Malfoy]

The Earl of Northumberland was adjacent to the center division, commanded by the Duke of Beaufort. Henry had watched as their archers were no match to the weather that gave a boon to the Yorkists and not the true King of England. Was God against them? Was he showing displeasure to the Lancastrian nobility? His mind snapped out of the thoughts as a soldier came over, pointing at the center division as it began to move forward. A blaring horn, sounding a charge, echoed from Beaufort's formation. Either this is the final charge for King Henry VI or the maneuver that will win this battle.. It did not matter to Percy as he drew his sword, preparing to give the order.

For King and Country! For the rightful Henry the Sixth!! Forward men! Forward!

The soldiers shouted in unison before they began to march forward to the Yorkist position, picking up speed as they drew closer to the enemy's lines.

=============================================

Warwick stood opposite of Holland's position, noticing some movement through the thick fog. He looks up for a moment, noticing the arrows had stopped from the Lancastrian bowmen. Then cam the sounds of a charge. Richard's attention reverted back to the main lines of the Lancaster host, noticing soldiers marching towards their position, picking up speed as they came closer. This was it. The Earl of Warwick drew his sword, indicating his commanders who oversaw the longbowmen under his command.

Order another volley! Make those bastards die in the snow!

With the command given, Warwick barks an order to his infantry to tighten their lines and prepare for impact. He then awaited any word from His Grace, wondering if Edward planned to hold the line or charge.

[Jokern]

The sound and sight of the Lancastrians marching forward made the Earl of Surrey. Finally they would see a proper fight, he thought, pulling down in his visor and drawing his sword. John could practically taste the bloodshed already, he yearned for slaughtering his enemies. He began pacing about the line of soldiers, a solid wall of steel, beating his sword against his shield, working up a frenzy.

"See there lads, the whore sons are finally coming for a proper spanking! Let's show them what you're what you're made of, kill them all and show no mercy! We'll teach the damned French witch and her pansy little lover what happens when you mess with us, true lads of England!"

[Barry Goldwater]

Round 3

At last, after two rounds where nothing of importance went down, the real action finally begins. The Lancastrians, no doubt annoyed by the sleet and wind strengthening York's archers at the expense of their own, finally got off their plateau and began to advance directly against the Yorkist lines. Oxford and Clifford's men too left their posts in Castle Hill Wood and set out to attack the Yorkist flank. For their part, the Yorkist archers continued to sustain their fire, adding a relentless barrage of bodkins to the snow and biting winds assailing the Lancastrians as they struggled to march across the flat field between both sides' starting positions. When the Lancastrians got around to climbing up the Yorkist ridge, the Yorkists began to move off their positions and counter-charged them, creating a bloody melee across the entire front where their numerical disadvantage was made up for by the favorable terrain and weather. Hastings' battaile, being held in reserve, has yet to be committed.

Casualties

York: 400 light foot 300 heavy foot 200 militia longbowmen 180 yeomen Lancaster: 600 light foot 360 heavy foot 300 militia longbows 260 yeomen

PCs present (in case you want to duel)

Yorkist center vs Lancastrian center: Edward of March----------------------------Duke of Somerset Edmund Kyriell-----------------------------Jasper Tudor Roger Kyriell-------------------------------Aubrey de Vere N/A-----------------------------------------John de Vere Jr Yorkist left vs Lancastrian right: Baron Fauconberg-------------------------Duke of Exeter Lord Herbert-------------------------------Earl of Oxford Bastard of Fauconberg--------------------Baron de Clifford Yorkist right vs Lancastrian left: Earl of Warwick----------------------------Earl of Northumberland Earl of Surrey------------------------------David of Mechainn Viscount Bourchier-------------------------N/A (I think that's everyone. Note that no duels have been set up now, that's entirely up to the players - I just listed characters in a certain order for convenience, ex. just b/c Warwick & Northumberland are connected to each other doesn't mean they're fighting right now)

[The Mad Skylord]

Clifford hunts for Baron Fauconberg. Will fluff later when home.

+3 duels
+1 survival

[Lucius Malfoy]

Clifford hunts for Baron Fauconberg. Will fluff later when home.

+3 duels
+1 survival

+3 battles
+11 duels (with bastard sword and armour)
+9 survival (with armour)

After four rounds, in which it seemed Clifford had the upper hand, the Bastard of Fauconberg comes back swiftly and dashes the Baron's hopes of victory with a quick thrust through his shoulder, incapacitating Clifford's sword arm. Though the wound is deep, it is up to Sir Thomas Neville to what fate the Butcher shall face. The soldiers around Clifford come to a stop as their commander fell.

Despite his victory, Sir Neville did not come out of this battle unscathed for he now bears deep cuts of his own from this encounter.

[Blastoise Groudon]

"Time to kill some dogs!" Hastings screams at his men.

Hastings stats:

Traits:
Survival +2
Charisma +1
Logistician +3
Battles +2

[Gandalfus]

Bastard of Fauconberg's stats

+3 battles +11 duels (with bastard sword and armour) +9 survival (with armour)

The elder Fauconberg was just behind the thick of the fighting. Despite his age, he was a respectable fighter, but knew when to withdraw himself to get a better view of the tactical field. Exeter's men had come upon him in a flash, and although he had not seen the Duke himself among the thick of the fray, Exeter would undoubtedly wish to bloody himself against York. For now, they held the line, pushing against the Lancastrians in the snow. Soon, the warfare would slow to a crawl - fatigue would set in, numb from the cold and thick snow. They would need to have broken them by then, or sheer attrition would weigh them down. Without Norfolk, they were outnumbered.

The younger Fauconberg knew this. Nearby his father he fought, against men shouting the name of Clifford, the hateful murderer of Edmund Plantegent. The king would surely appreciate his head as a fine gift.

"Wedge! Wedge! To me! For King Edward, and Saint George!" The Bastard bellowed, surrounded by his best men. At the point of the wedge he stood, a spear designed to puncture the lines of Lancaster, slay their commander, and push Clifford's men from the field.

[Blastoise Groudon]

Edward looks around at the chaos on the field. He is nervous about the flanking force and he hopes Norfolk makes it in time.

Men! Men! Fight! With me, we stand, kill them all! For glory and country or death!

[Lucius Malfoy]

OOC: Looks like I get to fight myself

Warwick notices the standard of the Earl of Northumberland, fluttering among the many banners that were with the soldiers that assaulted his flank. The man grits his teeth tightly; his hatred for Somerset was legendary, but so was his hatred towards the Earl of Northumberland. The man had done nothing but be a thorn in his side by attempting to assassinate himself, back when he was known as Salisbury. There were many other incidents that fueled the fire between the two families. Warwick drew his sword, glaring in the direction of where the standard of his nemesis was.

COME HERE, YOU BASTARD!! COME AND FIGHT ME, THE EARL OF WARWICK!!

Henry heard the cry as clear as day, noticing an enraged Richard Neville charging him. Northumberland draws his own blade, tossing the sheath aside.

This one is mine. No one shall interfere!

His retainers nodded in acknowledge as their Earl rushed forward to clash with the Earl of Warwick.

Northumberland's Traits: +2 Duel, +2 Survival
Warwick's Traits: +2 Duel, +2 Survival

[Jokern]

OOC: Looks like I get to fight myself

Northumberland's Traits: +2 Duel, +2 Survival
Warwick's Traits: +2 Duel, +2 Survival

After an initial excellent first round for Warwick, the next two rounds were dominated by the Earl of Northumberland. Warwick was able to get in a devastating last strike in the fourth round into Percy's armour, but because of the damage he had sustained previously and thanks to a lucky shot from Northumberland right into the earl's leg, Richard Neville lost by a hair's breath.

It is now up to Percy to decide the fate of his most hated Neville foe. He knights and soldiers around them stop and watch the two rivals facing off.

[Gandalfus]

"The King will appreciate your head, traitor." The bastard grunted, feeling blood ooze from the chinks in his armour. They did not call Clifford the butcher for naught - he'd given Thomas several wounds, hacking away at him in relentless assault. But he still had strength enough in his sword arm to bring his blade upon the Baron's head. After Clifford spoke his final words, his maimed head hit the ground; only to rise again, held by a triumphant Thomas, who was covered by his men as he made his way back to the safety of the ridge.