The Trebleca Hills, South of Vidovdan, Border Princes IC 2524
Thomas Viteč stood silently with his men, surveying the field of battle. The enemy, under the young Duke of Vidovdan had brought out more men than he thought and he knew his small force would be hard-pressed to win this fight. His brother, Matthias, had given him but two hundred men to take the towns of Moslac and Vidovdan, and then to secure the trebleca river and hold the crossings. Thomas was sceptical from the start.
His army stood in their battle line, waiting for the Vidovdans to array their full force. Forty pikemen, assembled in two units stood in the centre, a wall of steel. Duellists, their swords gleaming, their clothes dashing and their beards trimmed flanked the pike blocks, protecting their vulnerable sides. Two units of Crossbowmen stood behind the infantry, their powerful bows well oiled and ready to fire. Between the crossbows, the faintly comical sight of Halflings with their short bows made ready, flexing their little arms and hurling insults at the crossbowmen. To the left, a small cannon made ready, the crewmen setting up their ammunition and chatting to the wizard, Pietro Pizatti, a strange Tilean with a flowing dark beard. On the right a unit of Lancers, stood with their horses, showing off in their armour - much to the distaste of the lightly-armed scout cavalry next to them.
The enemy army had now fully lined up in front of them, units of spearmen – pale imitations of Imperial State Troops made up the majority of the force. Militiamen, crossbows and archers made up the rest of the force, a mercenary cavalry unit stood on the flank, facing Thomas’ own cavalry.
Thomas looked up at the sun, the time was upon them. He raised his arm to his captain, Laszlo Besovic, and then marched his pikemen forward, trumpets blaring in the bright sun, dust being kicked up from the marching men. A flurry of crossbow bolts flew over his head, slamming into the enemy, punching men from their feet, causing a small unit to flee the field. The cannon suddenly boomed, smashing into the ground in front of the largest unit of spearmen, burying itself a few feet from the front rank. The enemy troops had started moving forward now too, marching directly at his pike blocks. They also let loose their own missiles, arrows raining down on his men, mostly clattering off armour but a few found weak spots and un-armoured body parts.
Thomas’ cavalry moved forwards, seeking to hit the flank of the enemy infantry but keeping a close watch on the mercenary knights of the Vidovdans. Arrows were starting to take its toll on booth sides now, but the Black Companies’ were much more effective, making another small unit fleeing away and greatly diminishing the other enemy units. The cannon missed again a slight wind causing the ball to go vastly wide. His men kept on marching towards the enemy spearmen, the men confident in their ability to take the poorly trained troops. There was suddenly a great crash as the enemy cavalry slammed into his own lancers, causing a horseman to fall from his horse.
Then there was a counterattack by the light cavalry and a unit of duellists, surrounding the knights, unhorsing two, making them rout and be cut down by the vengeful lancers. Well, thought Thomas that was that problem out of the way. The two infantry forces were getting closer now, and he could make out individual faces. He halted his pikes, his sergeant calling out orders to get his men ready to receive the charge. The crossbows let fly with another flurry of bolts, crashing into the enemy again, sending down their front rank. As the enemy were getting ready to charge, Thomas felt and heard a massive explosion, the cannon had misfired, exploding and sending bits of metal flying in every direction. Thomas turned to see the Wizard, Pizatti, stagger from the smoke, looking rather surprised, his beard singed badly. He couldn’t see the cannon crew.
Then the enemy infantry hit into his line, they had superior numbers but the pikes had the advantage of greater reach, killing scores of the enemy to little loss to his own men. Thomas himself had to fend off several blows from the enemy desperate to make a name of themselves by killing a captain. In a brief respite from the fighting, Thomas looked across to see his cavalry running down some archers and crossbowmen, destroying their missile troops. The spearmen and pikemen were still fighting furiously, the enemy standing their ground. Then the duellists leapt into the rear of the enemy, their twin swords and daggers slashing into spearmen and militia, cutting down droves.
The enemy were fighting desperately now, and losses were mounting on both sides, the pikes and spears punching men from their feet, the duellist swords disembowelling and slashing men. Yet the duellists were starting to take losses, their un-armoured bodies easy prey for a good thrust. The tension was mounting, the balance wavering. Thomas caught a glimpse of a large man in the enemy troops carrying an elaborate standard and calling out to his troops, stiffening their resolve. Thomas slashed this way and that, making his way to the banner bearer, calling out a challenge to the man. He hefted his longsword, steadying his shield arm and leapt at the man, slashing at his throat. The enemy captain parrying his blow with a battlehammer and slamming into Thomas’ shield. They fought like this for some time, men falling around them. Both of the combatants were tiring, their heavy armour weighing them down until Thomas managed to slam his sword deep into the enemy’s side, tearing into the man’s vital organs, killing him outright.
Thomas hefted the enemies’ standard, waving it for all to see before throwing it to the churned up mud. At this, most of the enemy infantry broke and ran, led by the poorly trained militia. The light cavalry and duellists harrying them into the hills. They had done it, outnumbered; the Black Company had prevailed once again.
Matthias will be pleased, the towns of Moslac and Vidovdan were vital crossings on the river Trebleca, and Vidovdan commanded the southern entry to a pass through to the empire. All that was left would be to dig in and recruit more men. There were rumours about a well armed professional army holding sway over many eastern towns, Thomas was worried they might try to cross the river.
Thomas was indeed right about the town elders caving to Castello Viteč. His men marched into the town late that afternoon and fortified the town and river crossing – a strategic point as it was the only place an army could cross.
A win for me, though he didn't exactly have a strong list - we wanted to go for a narrative battle, and not disrupt the campaign.
