To Pay the Toll. A Battle Report.

The Bridge at Casoli

Part One, Deployment.

The bridge of Casoli lay west of the city of Pavona, spanning the River Remo to carry a road southwards from the ancient Via Aurelia to the town of Scozzese. There were several humble dwellings close by, including a toll keeper’s cottage upon the southern side, and the land around had pens for livestock, olive groves and fields of grain.

It was here that the soldiers of Pavona and Verezzo would meet in battle for the first time since Duke Guidobaldo Gondi’s murderous raid on Spomante, in which Lord Lucca Vescussi of Verezzo had been killed. The new ruler of Verezzo, the regent Barone Iacopo Brunetti, had harboured a hatred since, but he had concealed it, even speaking with the son of his beloved lord’s murderer, Lord Silvano, and apparently agreeing to a truce. All the while, however, he had been increasing the strength of Verezzo’s army. His last and most effective trick, was agreeing to send some of his army to join with Lord Silvano’s army in the north, there to hunt the ratmen. By doing so, he convinced the Pavonans to drop their guard, to believe the animosity between the two realms had finally dissipated. As a consequence, Lord Silvano led more than half of Pavona’s marching army north, while the barone sent only a small fraction of his strength, so that what remained under his personal command outnumbered the defenders of Pavona sufficiently for him to believe he could, at long last, properly punish them for their crimes.

First he marched on the town of Scozzese, and after issuing demands for an immediate and large compensatory payment (which he assumed they could not raise), he captured and plundered it thoroughly. Then, not wanting to lose the initiative, and keen to engage the Pavonans long before Lord Silvano could return with his marching army to assist in their defence, he struck for the bridge. It was the quickest and easiest way to cross the river, and if he could reach the other side with his army, he could loot the rest of the city realm and exact a much more satisfactory recompense. His grief would not be lessened, nor his hatred of the Pavonans, but as he said to his officers, the punishment would teach the Pavonans the lesson they were clearly in need of, and allow him to maintain a larger standing army to ensure that Verezzo might never be ravaged by the Gondi’s armies ever again! To a lesser few he seemed to hint that he might even be considering conquering Pavona, thus subduing it for decades to come.

The barone decided not to wait for his own reinforcements, currently marching from Verezzo towards Scozzese, as such a delay might allow the enemy to better their own defences, muster more forces, or worse, allow the return of their young prince, Silvano, and his substantial army. So it was that the barone would be fighting without his newly promoted captains and his freshly raised regiments of halberdiers and handgunners; without the pack of sharp-teethed hunting dogs the halfling master of hounds in Terrene had promised to bring. Perhaps more importantly, he would not have the help of a newly hired band of mercenary ogres, or the brace of heavy cannons recently acquired from Ridraffa at no small cost.

What he did have, however, he believed was entirely capable of success – if they struck quickly, before the enemy could make further preparations.

As his army closed upon the bridge, Roberto Cappuccio (the infamous ‘Pettirosso’), and his infamous band of archers scouted ahead, intending to occupy the fenced yard by the tollkeeper’s cottage.

By the time they reached the fence, the army had formed a line of battle behind.

The barone led the largest halfling regiment, being his armoured archers, with the lesser wizard Zita Scadutto by his side.

One of the brace of bolt throwers was out on his right, being the furthest flank of the line of battle, tended by the army’s doctor ballistarum, Coraggioso Massetti, sporting a sprayed plume of yellow and blue upon his helm, while the other thrower was immediately to his left. Had they been able to simply stand and receive the foe’s advance, then what with the barone’s ability to inspire the rapid archery of those he led, whose accuracy was renowned, combined with the power of the ballistae, the enemy would surely have suffered brutal losses.

But today they themselves had to do the advancing. Of course, the barone knew he must leave the hand to hand fighting over the bridge to the men in his army, but the halflings would still be needed, both to thin the enemy’s ranks before that fight and to distract the foe throughout.

To the left of the bolt-thrower marched the pikemen, one of two possible contenders for the taking of the bridge.

These were led by Captain Maffeo Bugni, who had dismounted to do so, for the barone had ordered that in the first instance, it should be the pike who led the attack on the bridge, with the mounted men at arms joining the fight should it be required. Wearing his full armour and carrying his blue and yellow quartered shield, his legs bowed from years in the saddle, Captain Bugni did not complain about being ‘reduced to the capacity of a foot soldier’, for he was proud to be chosen to lead the crucial attack.

Captain Pandolfo’s galloper guns moved up the road, intent on smashing the hastily built defences before the pike charged across the bridge.

By their left were the heavy horsemen …

… and then the halfling crossbows, led by the army’s standard bearer, Gildo Pecoraro.

His little flock bore what men would call light crossbows, the kind that mounted crossbowmen carried, with a shorter range but still a powerful punch. They had not the strength to span the heavier kind, and the carrying of windlasses would be too heavy burden for them. Still, Gildo had trained them well in markmanship, and his magical banner blessed their quarrels with more than natural potency.

Next to Gildo came the army’s chief wizard, Pellegrino Magoldi, who had prepared several Heavens’ spells for the battle, and had solemnly sworn to the barone that he would do his utmost to assist the assault on the bridge. Wearing robes and an oversized hat, he clutched his staff tight while scrutinising the foe, looking for opportunities to us one of the scrolls tucked into his belt.

For a moment, the army halted, as Iacopo also looked upon the foe. Directly before him was a body of crossbowmen, busy spanning their weapons while a blue and white Pavonan banner fluttered over their heads.

The rest of the enemy force was clustered by the bridge, plainly intent on resisting any attempt to cross it.

The bridge itself had been adorned with a wooden barricade, but the enemy had chosen not to stand behind it. (Game Note: I ruled that the player could do so if they wished, but otherwise the river’s near-side edge was their deployment limit. Matt chose not do to so, perhaps to avoid learning just how harmful the enemy’s missile could be?)

On the bridge’s left, as the Verezzan’s viewed it, was a stone house and wall, behind which the Pavonans had placed a cannon. Before the house, on the river bank, was a small company of archers.

From his position, it was hard for Iacopo to see what lay directly before the bridge, for a large company of pistoliers and high walls blocked his view, but he had already been told that a regiment of halberdiers was stationed there. When he heard loud cheering from that part of the enemy line, he knew there were plenty of men there. The cries were joyous in tone, even victorious, and he pondered what this could mean. Deciding it was most likely mere bravado, he was just about to give the order to advance, when another messenger came to him to report that the celebration had been elicited by the dimounting of a white-haired warrior in crimson armour, who had joined the halberdiers, and that the name ‘Guidobaldo’ had been discerned among the cheers!

Iacopo stared at the messenger, a frown upon his face, and the fellow shifted about uncomfortably.

Could it really be Duke Guidobaldo? he thought. For months, the duke had supposedly lay abed, grievously and incurably wounded by the attack the Pavonans claimed had been inflicted by the Pettirosso. That claim had been a lie, Iacopo was certain, for the Pettirosso would have revelled in having a role in the duke’s injury, happily advertising it to all and sundry, for he had proclaimed just such a deed to be his goal. Instead. the Pettirosso had plainly been frustrated that it was not he who was responsible.

Now, Iacopo had several more possible lies to sift through. Had the duke’s wound been less serious than that reported? Had his doctor’s actually been able to cure him? Was he ever even injured at all? Or was this red-armoured man an imposter?

If the last was true, then he must be a convincing one, for the cheers had sounded genuine. Surely the people of Pavona knew their duke well? Or was the famous red armour and a shock of white hair, combined with their wishful thinking, sufficient to convince them?

As he pondered this, a body of swordsmen drew up behind the halberdiers – the enemy were concentrating their fighting men to present the toughest obstacle to anyone intending to cross the bridge.

Indeed, such was their determination to amass their strength for that purpose, that even the pistoliers had pushed awkwardly between house and river to come close to the bridge’s flank. Whether they believed they could shoot at any who crossed the bridge, or charge into the flank of such, was unclear, but they were certainly keen to be close to it.

Meanwhile, two wizards made their way into the buildings by the bridge, one, being a fellow of a Cathayan appearance, entering the larger house …

… while the other, a woman in flowing a flowing dress of blue, like an image of Myrmidia, moved carefully past the sharp halberd tips to reach the door of the smaller one currently surrounded by soldiers on three sides.

Both probably intended to to find a suitable window from which to look upon the enemy and thus better target their spells.

The battle is to follow …