New Solland’s First Battle – Final Part(Turns 4 to 6)Upon the far left of the Black Company’s line, both the Norsemen and the Archers had rallied, and set about attempting to reform their bodies. But their efforts were to prove of little worth, for when the Ogre Bulls charged them once more, they immediately turned tail and fled yet again. This time they scattered far and wide, and their contribution to the battle (little more than to keep a regiment of Bulls and a Butcher busy for a while) was over.
Agrabog now delivered a charge himself, aiming right for the pikemen ahead of him. His blood was up enough to care not a jot for the terrifying thicket of sharp steel blades they presented. Seeing his resolve, married to his size and ferocity, the Pikemen suddenly lost all confidence, and fled away from him and his Ironguts. But not so the Swordsmen at their rear, who now found themselves the subject of Agrabog’s attack. They stood their ground and received the Tyrant’s charge, somehow finding the courage the Pikemen had lacked.
The brave detachment of Sollander Swordsmen now took it upon themselves to march right past the mouths of the enemy’s artillery …
… while the still cautious Knights of the Green Cross moved once more towards the enemy, but not to engage them. In a similar vein, the massed Sollander foot regiments simply looked to their dressings, and several even moved slightly backwards.
It is fair to say that Uryens and his men were proving somewhat reluctant to commit to battle, at least not until they could be certain of some realistic chance of success. The Baron was waiting to see if the Ogres could begin to threaten the Black Company’s centre. Until they did, he could see that enemy before him was in too good a position, with artillery and crossbows and foot in sufficient numbers to maul his men very badly if they did attempt an approach.
And events would prove the Baron’s cautious attitude was well founded. For his cannon managed at last to fire but to do only minimal harm to the foe, and his Hellblaster finally proved something of a cursed white elephant when it exploded, destroying itself and its crew.
Even for Agrabog, everything was not exactly going his way. He and his Ironguts tore bloody swathes of death through the Swordsmen, then when the men turned to flee, finished them off in an even more bloody manner. But while this was going on, his Bruiser and companion in battle for years, Thaddeus, was overwhelmed by Pirazzo’s battle hardened mercenaries and succumbed to their blades as he staggered back in confusion. The Bruiser’s huge body crashed to the ground.
Upon the other side of the field Captain Luitpold decided that the best course of action was to leave his Lancers to charge the Knights of the Green Cross single-handed. This way they could continue their advance to threaten the Sollanders’ foot soldiers (still mustered in strength, even if tardy in their advance), while hopefully showing the Light Horse that he too was willing and brave enough to go against the odds. As he began his charge, the Light Horse decided they would not have him do so alone, and joined him to once again face the very same foe that had already so badly mauled them!
Luipold’s fight was hard, as he himself was wounded in his combat with the enemy champion, yet once again the goddess Myrmidia was with the Black Company Riders for they brought down another of the caparisoned northerners. Defiantly, Luipold and the last of the Light Horse stood their ground, and fought on.
A little of the same spirit of defiance was now shown by the fleeing Pikemen, who stopped before the army’s baggage, turned to look upon the field once more, and reformed their ranks and files. They too would try again. With rather more confidence, Don Matthias finally saw fit to commit himself and his Lancers to the fray, and charged into the flank of the detachment of Swordsmen threatening the guns. Of course the poor men of the forlorn hope had not a chance against such an attack and were soundly thrashed. The Lancers’ momentum was such that when they pursued they found themselves running right through their own Pike regiment and out the other side!
Apart from the mortar crew, who entirely missed with their next shot, the rest of the Black Company’s gunners were beginning to get a good feel for the field. One cannon ball, aiming for the very centre of a detachment, went a little too far and yet was not wasted, for it tore the enemy Wizard in half as well as the Greatswordsman behind him. But the best was yet to come, for two of the light cannon crews chose once again to train their pieces upon the Griffon mounted Baron. Of the two, one ball neatly found its mark, and ripped right through the monster’s throat to kill it instantly. Uryens was thus dashed to the ground. Such was his discomfort that the world about him seemed blurred, and his dizzy head spun from the impact of the fall.
(Author’s note – What a fine excuse for using one of the (many) pictures that went wrong!)
Once he had regained his bearings, Uryens threw himself furiously at the Black Rider still fighting his knights. His blade went deep, through both rider and horse, felling both. At the same time, Captain Luitpold slew the champion locked in combat with him. But now his courage failed him, for he was surrounded, and Uryens bore upon him, so he turned his horse to flee, perhaps to rejoin his Lancers? This was not to be, for the knights dragged him down and stabbed with their lances as their destriers trampled over him. Within a moment his life had been battered and bashed away.
As the Leadbelchers calmly reloaded and the Gnoblars turned to face Pirazzo’s men, Agrobog turned his Ironguts to face the rallied regiment of Pikes. He knew that this time it would be them delivering the charge, but he cared not, for they had fled the first time they had faced him and he seriousy doubted their hearts were in it now.
The Greatswords, reeling from the Wizard’s multiple misfortunes and the Hellblaster’s nearby explosion, now began to advance properly. Ahead they could see the enemy Pikemen, and even managed a cheer as they saw a cannon ball at last bounce through them, felling the entire file in its path. They were not the only Black Company men to fall to bullets, as between them the surviving Sollander Handgunners took down one of the Don’s elite Caricare Lancers.
The other Lancers now committed themselves, charging at the Handgunners before them, dispatching them with barely a thought, and then crashing onwards to smash into the Halberdier regiment beyond.
The Don would also have charged, for he saw his chance to strike at Agrabog himself, but he could not encourage his men sufficiently, and the entire unit balked at the prospect of charging such a fearful foe. Not so the recently rallied Pikemen, who now considered that to regain their honour and save their reputation, they must charge even against such foes. And charge they did, though the consequences were more terrible than they could have imagined: while they could only injure one of the brutes, not even toppling him, the Tyrant and Ironguts hacked merrily away until nine of them lay dead. Once again they fled, though Agrabog saw the danger of pursuing and becoming engulfed in foes, and managed to restrain his ferocious warriors so that they only went forwards a few steps.
Cannons blazed and grenadoes burst felling even more of the poor Greatswords, while the Don’s wizards concentrated on weakening the enemy Priests’ prayers. Pirazzo’s men made short work of defeating and killing the two Leadbelchers before them, and that after receiving their blasts full on!
It was becoming clear that the battle was to be a victory for neither side. Upon both sides the powder was running short, and the will to fight was waning. The warriors were either exhausted, shattered or demoralised. The gunners’ ears were ringing, and the drumbeats were losing their stridency. Yet even so the Greatswords finally delivered a charge with what few of them where left – hitting the flank of the Pikemen before them. A detachment of Free Company saw their chance too and charged the flank of the knights engaging their parent unit to the fore. Agrabog now decided to throw any caution to the wind and ordered a charge against the fleeing Pikemen, but neither he nor his Ironguts could reach.
While the Bulls and the Butcher leading them actually fell back away from the foe, and the Gnoblars turned to throw what sharp stuff they had left at Pirazzo’s in desperation, Baron Uryens de Crux now fully realised the folly of his situation. He was alone, on foot, and only yards away from the spot that cannon balls had killed his mount. He could see gunners and Crossbowmen all facing his way, and he knew full well what they would do. These men of the Black Company had no honour in them, only viciousness and greed. These were the men who had made a sport of decorating a road with the heads of their slaughtered foes. In a moment of sudden clarity, which washed away the fury that had gripped him until then, the noble Baron turned and fled as fast as his legs could take him towards his rearmost soldiers.
As he ran, the fighting stuttered - the last efforts of men dog tired and ready to call it a day. Pikemen struggled with Greatswords, Knights hacked at Halberdiers, and men kept falling, but no-one ran. The mortar’s barrel broke and sent splinters into the crewmen around it. The other gunners stood silent, stunned by what they had seen.
Darkness was falling, and both sides knew that to fight on would mean destruction for all. The Ogres were mercenaries, as were many of the men upon the field, and none could see the sense in mutual destruction. Uryens had fled to the rear to avoid bullets and bolts, and he called his men to muster about him.
Nevertheless, the Don wheeled his knights around to face the rear of Agrabog’s Ironguts, whilst the Paymaster’s Bodyguard stood their ground to the side of the same brutes.
(End of Turn 6. Game over. Draw. Black Company only 187 VP ahead of the Sollanders.)Agrabog knew full well the disadvantage he was at, and so suddenly, cunningly he and his men dashed through the wagons of the baggage – not stopping to loot them, but to overturn them and prevent any of the men following. Within minutes he and his veteran Ironguts were back with the Bulls off on the flank, panting hard as they attempted to get their breath back. None of the Bulls laughed.
Dark clouds made the night come all the quicker, then rainfall further obscured the field, as well as dampening what little powder there was left. One by one the fighting regiments began to fall back from each other, no-one willing to fight on, to force the foe, to press for an advantage. Bedraggled lines began marching away from the field, while small units of rearguard sullenly watched the enemy to keep an eye out for tricks.
Agrabog bellowed for his surviving men to join him. Uryens found his tent and issued a summons to his officers. Don Matthias said a quick prayer for Luitpold, and then rode at the head of his knights, looking for all intents and purposes as if he were riding to a fight and not from one. He wasn’t fooling anyone.
