[M2TW AAR] Sons of Alfonso (VH/VH)

[Adanlohrd2]

Chapter 1: Outside the Pyrenees

I will try to comment chapter by chapter, so disregard anything I say that later will consolidate or not. I will analyze chapter by chapter, only.


It was not very clear where this quarrel with France came from, or the common ties they had before. Alfonso's personality seems to be that of a very private person with his own ideas, while his son is a brat who does not care about anything, but has a vocation to be a great soldier.

[krazyfilmer123]

Chapter 10: The Ragged Republic

(José)

Ever since my nephew Ferrand has taken Venice itself, the robes of luxurious silk that I would usually see a Venetian wear were reduced to simple tunics. Some scholars i've met even ask me whether or not they should still call them "The Republic of Venice". In fact, mi hermano Rodrigo already told me that we took initiative in conquering the remaining pieces of these broken Italians.

As I have conquered Switzerland and moved past Italy, I have never felt the thrills my nephews did fighting Italians in their homeland. They told me that this Republic is the last organized group of Italians to be vanquished, and that I would be making our Byzantine allies most proud for beating down our common enemy. They have even given me the gift of an admirable and beautiful betrothed who I could gladly call my wife.



Nevertheless, I moved past the Swiss alps to go directly to the Venetian city of Vienna, of which was taken from the so-called "Holy Romans". Regardless, it was still a rich city which Rodrigo ordered that I take in order to completely empty the coffers of the enemy. On the way to the city was a cold winter, and a brief battle with a foolish army of Venetians, comprised mostly of militiamen and mercenaries, most of whom were poorly equipped. I had no problem chasing them down and driving them into the snow below.



I knew that I had to lead my soldiers away before winter ended and the nauseating stench haunted our nostrils. So, I went ahead, setting our camps before the walls of Vienna, awaiting to breach and bash those inside. However, once spring came, another large army came with it. I knew I had to engage the other huge army before me, although Vienna's garrison would partake in the fight. I knew this would paint the ground red, not just in blood, but in our dead enemy...



As I looked at the first huge army before me, it was evident that they had hundreds and hundreds of missile units, and with it, hundred times more superiority over my ranged units. Despite the riskiness of my decision, I knew it bring much amusement. I raised my sword, issuing my order in one word that I ripped my lungs to say.

"CHAAAAAAAAARGE!"

Everyone happily obliged. From spearmen to knight, they all sallied forth, raising their shields up as a hurricane of bolts came down upon them. The loud sound of running reached my ears, as my men ran ferociously towards their prey.



The crossbowmen shot as much bolts as they could, but could only shoot about two volleys before my men's desire for good melee interrupted their reload session. My men raised their swords, crying out before cutting the enemy down easily. However, many of the crossbowmen instinctively refused to engage in melee; almost all of them hurriedly fell back to a better place from which to shoot my men. This lead me to my next decision.



Soon, I lead all of the cavalry, forming a stampede that my brother suggested that I do in the past. I knew this would inflict great defeat upon our enemies, as did the Battle of Toulouse involving him and his knights, and as did for the now-rotting bodies that fought me back in wintertime. With this, the deafening sound of galloping reached my ears faster than my running infantry, and the entire army was rolled over effortlessly. Anyone who ran did so in vain, as my horsemen caught up with them, but because of this, my infantry became quite spent as they joined the pursuit.



From behind was Vienna's garrison, intending to come and flank my army as we were busy with the first. I tore my lungs out again, asking my men to rally to me, forming lines once again to face the next army.



With the other army were many crossbowmen, but with heavy foot knights similar to mine. Due to the awkward position of my infantry compared to the other army, the left flank was completely exposed, and my spearmen had no choice but to engage with something that would completely shred them apart. I pouted in disappointment, seeing a unit of them running before the ones in red.



Luckily, the heavy knights joined in to fight their equals. behind them, however, were many crossbowmen running to different positions, finding themselves good angles from which to shoot down my troops. I shouted to my men once more.

"Courage everyone! Hold the line as I take out the ones shooting at you!"



I, once again, lead the cavalry in a stampede formation, devastating the enemy missile units as they were encompassed in crushing hooves. I managed to lead the cavalry to all positions of the crossbow units, even as they ran away.



As many of the Venetians fell, I saw their heavy knights drop their swords in faltering courage, seeing as some started to run for their lives. Within the many crowds of Venetians were their captains, of whom were both laying on field, as crows came around them to have a good supper. Soon, every Venetian followed suit, and the cavalry gleefully chased them out of the field.



Looking at the ground below, it was clear that many Venetians reached the afterlife, and only very few were able to continue life on Earth. I watched on, chuckling as many of the Venetians ran across the field, towards the forests surrounding Vienna, for they did not want to return to the roads in utter humiliation. I raised my sword again and got my men's attention as I rode my horse in front of them all.

"So men, our path to the walls is clear! Onward, for we shall expect no more trouble or crossed swords inside them!"

My men got into a line as marched forward, entering the city. With us were many of the captured Venetians of whom my men kept close beside them. I intended to have them ransomed, but as a letter of denial came back from the Doge a few days later, all of these prisoners would become food for the soil and the crows.



I didn't care much of the people within the walls after we came inside. A day after the victory, which was two days before the Doge's letter, my men found me limping on the road, finding that my hair was messy and my face was flushed. A crowd came in front of me and asked what they could do to the city. I raised my bottle, albeit twitching a little.

"D... do whatever you want..."

Many hours have passed, and within that time I could see many did pass away, as the whole place was pillaged for the people's insolence. I disregarded it, continuing to drink away while I went back to that nunnery to have a good time with that one lady like I did just before the men came. While I do admit having a good night with her as she was tied against the wall, the regret the next day stung me like a thousand scorpions.



Thank God that my wife isn't here. Thank Him twofold that mi padre Alfonso isn't around either...

[Alwyn]

José seems to be a brave, impetuous and brutal commander, I wonder if these characteristics will get him into trouble. (Since you previously posted chapter 10, I'm wondering if the three lines of chapter 3 in your latest post were posted by accident.)

[krazyfilmer123]

Chapter 11: Taking Names

(Rodrigo)

Scholars are always so confused and conflicted on what names to give me. From every travel I've made, every order I've given, and every conquest I've succeeded in, some have spent as much of their time thinking of my epithets as writing history that my dynasty has made so far. Names such as "the Malevolent", "the Killer", or "the Tyrant" are one of these names on the long list, which amuses me. The fact that they still do this even as my hair turns grey, amuses me even more.



However, as my war with the English erupted once again after a five year ceasefire. Before this happened, Normandy and what used to be part of France raised their walls, transforming into mighty citadels that even the richest king could feast their eyes on. With that came the training of professional soldiers, made almost impervious to any kind of damage the common militiamen would do.

With this, it came time for me relive the days of combat, leaping off my throne and taking the fight to the British Isles. My son, Lope, has also decided to arrive, travelling from the alps of Switzerland to Normandy, bringing with him a fine army with knights hailing from many places. This was the time where we sailed across the English Channel, prepared to make the isles bear the Spanish insignia.



London was, evidently, the first city applicable of taking. If England was a person, this would be their purse, and without it he would be a beggar. A spy reported back that in London was there prince, and many reinforcing troops rushed from their castles in hasty emergency. I yearned to see how much men they've put against me, and I hoped I could slaughter more to satisfy the many years of inactivity.



The prince's name was simply "John", with no known last name, same with their last king of I ordered bloodied by a knife-for-hire. With him were reportedly some catapult crews, and knowing of their great danger, I appointed one of the horse units to ride around town to locate and eradicate them. Outside the walls, however, were the reinforcements coming in great number, where I ordered my army to be positioned near where they would emerge.



The skies grew dark, and soon water poured down my soldiers' tabards as I looked up at the sky. Clouds angrily roared and God's tears poured down, and due to this, I knew it would be a great time to catch the reinforcements completely off guard. The stampede of cavalry that I ordered to gather up were at the enemy's tail, after we crashed into the siege engines first.

I heard one the soldiers scream "lads, they're behind us" before they started scramming through the damp ground in panic. If there was anything at that moment that they so dearly wanted, it was to open the gates to London to get inside. Many Englishmen got swallowed up by the stampede, but those who managed to get to the doors ordered them opened, and from there was our opportunity to sneak inside. We didn't even need to waste time building a ram or hire a spy; the English are simply a bunch of ill-bred dunderheads.



I lead my all of my army inside, and we surprisingly met with pathetic opposition. Even their heavy knights, of whom were the equals of mine, collapsed in terror and amusingly blended in with the running peasants. Everyone else were eliminated with haste, which included the cavalrymen.



Right after, the horse unit that I ordered to ride around to search for the siege engines was dispatched, and to eliminate them. Before that was a bit of babbling.

"Señor, we cannot carry out such a thing! We our completely unfamiliar with this strange location-"

I quickly ordered the crossbowmen to aim at these idiots, telling them in a harsh tone to do as they were told. Out of the same person's mouth was "yes, señor" and my tomato-red face became a slight tinge as I smirked. Whether or not they died or would return was not my concern. All that mattered was that the accursed catapults wouldn't live to obliterate my men.

After they were sent out, running and shouting came from all directions, realizing that the English infantry planned a full-fledged attack. Infantrymen from my army quickly turned around, raising their shields in defense and clashing against the defenders, and other Englishmen that attempted to flank were stopped by other infantry. The crossroads I was at were filled to the brim with cries, slices and bashing of helmets, but soon the English attack was cut short, and a mass rout wiped them from existence. Their English standards were torn down and trampled, as were the soldiers holding them.



A big portion of the English defenders died out, and now was my time to advance. Mi hermano menor, José, introduced his "Hive" position to me a few years back after the greedy Kingdom of France ceased to exist by his hand. I decided to test it's reins, managing to lure in some idiotic cavalry units into the clutches of my infantry. As the riders all came tumbling down, I grew increasingly impatient as I tried to lure more in, and by that time I moved my army upwards, in front of the heart of London.



As soon as we arrived near the city square, what appeared to be the prince himself came along, engaging my men but became trapped in between them. Prince John and his bodyguard were cut down quickly, while John cowardly tried to push through the crowd, but his horse tripped over one of lifeless steeds on the crowd, causing him to be flung off. He fell flat on his face, but as he tried to get up, one of my men stomped on his head, thrusting his sword deep into his chest.

After John's death came the hesitation to fight within the remaining English ranks. Realizing their commander laid a dead man in front of them all, came more fear as I dismembered John's head with a single slice. I showed it to every Englishman in front of me, whilst my crossbowmen formed up lines.



I shouted to all of my enemies. "So, is this what you'd like?! It is over! If you surrender, just come here, and we'll just take your heads, one by one! It's clean, simple, and a hell of a lot less painful then what I will do if you refrain from surrender."

The crowd of men grew increasingly defiant from each word. It was clear that they wouldn't give up. Therefore, I issued the final order: "Rain hell."

Bolts from my crossbowmen swept through the Englishmen, whilst a fine red mist appeared right above them as they screamed in agony. But amidst the fear were the remaining knights, whom raised there swords and charged through the rain of bolts, engaging my ranks of crossbowmen in great anger.



My knights emerged to deal with them, as the knights impressively caused some damage even as they were small in number. They were quickly subdued, being shoved to the ground by my infantry. From there, the missile troops carried on with their amusement, but was met by more defiance, even from the peasants themselves. As the defiance grew more and more stronger, I ordered my infantry to push forward into the city square itself, where I delivered the final blow of the garrison from behind, crushing them entirely with the lance's deadly edge.



After that, many of people of London gathered around, as I looked on at the last man standing, holding with him a billhook. Even as my men surrounded this one man, he decided to whack his billhook onto my horse's barding. I leaped off my horse, grabbed the man by his neck and lifted him off the concrete. As everyone watched, my sword plunged his face, and with a single swoop his head was taken off. In satisfaction, I maimed his headless body with many slices, lifted the body by his tabard and shouted to everyone.



"Drop whatever scheme or weapon you have against me. Unless you view THIS to be your future selves."

This was exactly why "the Mauler" was placed upon me that day. I do realize that I am a tyrannical, malevolent killer who mauls people, but in a world full of wolves, I should be a bigger wolf.



The crowd that was once an angry mob lost their nerve, slowly dropping their pitchforks and knives whilst taking about two steps away from me. I spared them the looting and pillaging that I could've done. I was just happy that unlike others, they knew when to give up.

Hopefully that can apply to all of this accursed isle.

[NorseThing]

Two week and I missed a lot. I was a bit surprised at Jose though. It seems he was a bit under the bottle so to speak when he made his decision on the pillaging. I did not catch the reason for the drinking though. Now I must go back and reread some posts and catch up on what I do not remember. Sigh. Great stuff though. Keep it coming. I will really get back to the posts an catch up.

[Caillagh de Bodemloze]

"Rodrigo the Mauler", eh? Well, he certainly seems to earn his nicknames!

I liked your description of London :

If England was a person, this would be their purse, and without it he would be a beggar.

[krazyfilmer123]

Chapter 12: The Republic of Nuremberg

(José)

It has been many years since I've been around friends. Friends that I met during simpler times, when Venice still stood with us as brothers. Times have already changed, and now every day, anywhere, the Spaniard and the Venetian were at each others' throats. With mi hermano and my cousins' conquests of Venetian lands, scholars could not refer to the Venetians as they were. With a spy report coming back to me and my brother, it had been discovered of the Venetians' last place to hide.



Strangely enough, the last bolthole was within German land; within the walls of Nuremberg. It has recently been discovered of Venice's war with the Holy Roman Empire, which still raged on. I wasn't and still am not sure of what caused it, but the most applicable guess I could come up with was their desperation, seeking to escape the war with us while finding any crevice to crawl through, like mice. Besides, nobody would see Italians within Germanic lands ever, except us Spaniards.

Once me and my army reached the walls of the last city, I could, albeit very faintly, hear the commotion within the city. I could tell of the utter surprise of the enemy of our arrival, combined with our spies opening the gates. The opportunity was set. It was time to give the final blow.



I let my infantry enter the gates first. As they went inside, there was virtually no defense from Venetian soldiers. We could clearly see some peasants running into their homes, reaffirming my belief that the Italians definitely did not expect our arrival. The only men their to oppose us were a few crossbow units, whom acted like young boys playing with toys in terms of swordsmanship. The nuisances met their maker within a few minutes.



Without opposition, I lead my army near the town square as quickly as we came. In addition, I sent a cavalry unit to hunt down a catapult unit that could've easily torn through our army. Once these horsemen came back, I saw the multitude of garrison soldiers huddled together in a big crowd... something a siege engine could make good work out of... but alas, I could not bring one with me as I didn't have the patience to bring such weight towards the final battle.



Peasants, spearmen, and swordsmen alike, have all gathered up in the heart of their final city, sending threats and taunts in their tongue. However, their threats were empty as I allowed my crossbowmen to form up and fire into the mob. Even when we didn't have any siege engines that would've decimated the mob and make their lives a literal hell-fire, the multiple volleys fired by the crossbowmen tore through the crowd fairly well. I have even noticed two men subdued at the same time with one bolt...



Surprisingly enough, very few units of the defending garrison yearned for a melee with my men. I did, however, appreciate the bravery of some compared to others, charging straight into the crossbowmen even as they were being met with whizzing bolts. Their bravery was short-lived as always, and so was every other Venetian who tried meeting face to face with us.



Time went on and on, and for half an hour I was asleep on my horse. I knew how predictable these Venetians were, as they came back only to retreat again, and again, and again until I got incredibly weary. I realized how much more quicker it would've been to use a catapult to reduce the enemy to charred remains, despite how much more gruesome it would be. Nevertheless, I kept telling myself to have some patience.

By the time I woke up, the crossbowmen have already torn through most of the army, and soon a bolt hit it's worthless general. This general in question said something along the lines of, "We surrender; we will drop our weapons!" before having a quarter of his head torn off by a volley. It was too late for him anyway. Cities are always supposed to surrender before our assault on the settlement. Looks like threats have fallen on deaf ears...



There was very little left of the Venetian force. The ones who remained were those I couldn't afford to see get shot, as the crossbowmen had little bolts left. I soon sent out one unit of heavy knights to take out whoever was left. This brawl took a bit longer than I expected, and upon closer inspection, the spearmen of Venice fought my unit on two fronts. I severely wanted me to lead my bodyguard and hit them in the rear, but luckily, I still had a conscience that told me of how reckless I would be in such situation. After all, I am going to be the King of Spain soon enough, so it's necessary that many view me with a positive light.



The battle was over, and all of my soldiers within the town square dispersed. I demanded everyone not to pillage or kill any innocents, to which almost everyone responded well to. Unfortunately, I had no clue of where the Venetian Doge was, because if this nation was going to end, I felt a desire to keep more trophies. Part of me wanted to remind myself always of what i've conquered, and what nations i've put an end to, from France, to Venice and beyond.



Even as I have done some inexcusable deeds, keeping appearances has been part and parcel of what has made the kingdom successful. Even when mi hermano still keeps rambling on about which ways he should torture his enemies, many nations view us in a positive light with the peaceful occupation of cities, despite a few exceptions when cities were sacked. Even then, my brother keeps pretexts for everything to make justifications; most of the time he accuses the other nation of sacking a city before us, or slaughtering many of our people, to which our people sheepishly nod to.

This was probably why many nobles whispered to me of how dangerous being on the throne was. Some wanted me to desert my dynasty, for my sake. However, what I have planned from the time I realized my brother's actions is finally coming into play. It has been a few weeks since I last saw him, and friends within the nobility have already came to the now Spanish Nuremberg to inform that he grew sick. I chuckled in amusement, knowing full well that he did not have a foodtaster.

It was time for his rule to crumble down. Even if people tell me how much I was like him, from being an alcoholic to a womaniser and everything in between, I knew I still had hope. If my father was a good king, so can I if I just strive to be.

[NorseThing]

Venice must have been quite powerful before this war started if Nuremburg was the 'bolthole' to that now destroyed empire. IF it was my AAR, I would be happy to end it here with a brief summation. Of course I am not the best advisor when it comes to AAR writing. My bias is in shorter tales. I will wait and seem where this takes us in the future.

[Alwyn]

Good update! I enjoyed the strangeness of the last bolt-hole of Venice and the ways that you show us the desperate Venetians, both in the text and the images. I wonder what sort of king José would be - and whether he will get the chance to rule.