To Pay the Toll: The Battle

The Bridge at Casoli. Early Autumn, 2405.

With a wave of his hand, Barone Iacopo commanded the advance to begin. His own regiment of archers moved slowly, arrows nocked, in the hope that they could loose a volley as soon as possible. Beside them, the large bodies of pikemen and knights also moved up …

… the former aiming for the bridge, while the latter considered what role they could play if the pike were to assault first. The Pettirosso and his band moved quickly into the fenced yard before them …

… not willing to lose the opportunity to loose their shafts at the crossbowmen formed up on the far side of the river, and very happy to do so from behind a protectively sturdy fence.

The enemy’s blue and white, quartered banner fluttered above them as several heads turned to spy the halflings who had been concealed until now. The Pettirosso, however, was eyeing the pistoliers by the bridge whilst stroking the magic ring upon his finger, wondering if he could break and scatter them with one blast of magical fire.

Captain Pandolfo’s galloper guns did not move, for they had no need to, being perfectly able to target the bridge from where they were.

Upon the far side of the mounted men at arms, the army standard bearer, Captain Gildo Pecoraro, urged on by the wizard Pellagrino by his side, moved forward at the best pace the light crossbow company could manage, for the wizard was keen to conjure harm upon the foe as soon as possible.

While the Pettirosso’s magic ring failed to bring harm on the pistoliers near the bridge, and after Gildo had blessed the main body of archers under the barone’s command with a Harmonic Convergence spell …

… he conjured lightning to strike the cannon behind the wall, failing to harm it as the bolts struck only the ground around it. But in his keenness, he had failed to fully restrain the energies conjured into being. A blast coursed out from him, bursting the lungs of no less than six of the crossbowmen by his side …

… and causing Captain Pecoraro to stumble as he too almost choked.

Gildo had to steady the captain, apologising as he did so (although the captain, momentarily winded and dazed did not hear him) when suddenly two loud reports rang out from Pandolfo’s galloper guns.

The first roundshot skipped across the field to crash into the wooden barricade upon the bridge and tear it to pieces.

Then, after quickly shifting its aim, the second fired at the enemy pistoliers, but failed to harm them (Game Note: A roll of 1 to wound), instead striking the building behind and wounding the wizard within.

(Game note: Neither the player (my son) nor I (the GM) learned from this that the enemy wizards hiding in the houses were critically vulnerable to shots from the cannons. It should have been obvious, but, I guess, in a roleplaying/storytelling sense, our tactical ignorance worked out well, as the crews could not have known that their shot had hurt anyone within the building!)

The Pettirosso and his halfling rangers now felled five of the crossbowmen, causing the rest to flee.

As they did so, the barone silently cursed, for they were now out of range of his lads, which meant the magical blessing was wasted. What with their ability to loose arrows twice as fast as others, he knew his own archers’ volley would not merely have killed a fraction of the enemy crossbows, but most likely have wiped them out to a man!

(Game Note: Iacopo has the campaign army list special rule, ‘Mercenary skill, Quick Shot’, which means he and any unit he joins get the rule ‘multiple shots: 2’ when shooting with non-magical short bows, bows or long bows. These guys have bows, which of course are like long bows to them!)

While one of the ballistae missed the fleeing crossbowmen …

… the other slew two of them. Despite this rough treatment, the surviving Pavonans rallied and reformed themselves!

Perhaps they believed they were safe now, or maybe the thought of running before they had launched one bolt shamed them, especially now that their beloved lord was apparently present upon the field?

On the northern side of the bridge, the halberdiers fell back a little, as ordered by the duke himself, while the pistoliers manoeuvred around behind them, presumably having felt somewhat exposed beside the bridge, especially when an iron roundshot smashed into the building behind them.

So it was that the Pavonans were concentrating just about everything they had at the bridge, where they were better concealed by the houses and best placed to thwart any attempt to cross. Their confidence waxed with proximity to their miraculously recovered master, who, despite his order to fall back a little, was a most reassuring presence. Truly, they agreed, his was Morr’s most favoured, granted life so that he might defend his realm against its enemies.

(Game Note: Duke Guidobaldo was an entirely unexpected presence on the field for both friend and foe, for all had believed him to be dying for many a month, kept alive only by the skill of Pavona’s most able physicians and healers. So, as GM, I had house-ruled that he, as well as being general, adorned in his bright armour and wielding his greatsword, was now effectively an ‘army standard bearer’, although one with a range of 6″ rather than 12″, thus granting rerolls to LD tests to all units within range of him. It seemed to me, and I think the players agreed, an entirely suitable way of incorporating the surge of hope his presence gave to his soldiers.)

The Pavonan wizards, peering through the windows of the houses either side of the bridge, failed to bring about any magical harm upon the Verezzans, their spells either too weak or dispelled by the enemy wizards. The Pavonan cannon …

… felled but one of the mounted men at arms, while the little company of archers managed to kill only one of the halfling crossbowmen.

Such a gentle mauling was entirely insufficient to dismay the Verezzans, who continued their advance, with the galloper guns moving forward some way, and the barone’s archers marching as far as their legs could carry them.

The pike regiment, however, simply shuffled a little to one side, to allow the gallopers a clear shot over the bridge.

They may have been keen to assault the bridge, but having witnessed what the guns had done to the wooden defences, they were entirely happy to allow Pandolfo’s ‘pocket pistols’ to play on the halberdiers. Once the foe had been reduced in number, bloodied and shaken, then victory would surely prove more certain.

The halfing wizards were themselves keen to bring as much harm to the foe as they could muster. While the Pettirosso’s attempt to launch a ball of fire from his magical ring at the halberdiers was again dispelled, Pellagrino thought to bless the barone’s archers.

But this too was dispelled, presumably because the enemy suspected what those archers were capable of. Frustrated, and nervous considering what had happened when he had last employed the spell, he summoned a chain of lightning to strike first at the archers, killing four …

… then at the halberdiers, killing five!

“That’ll do,” said Captain Pecoraro at his side, encouragingly. “Indeed, more of that sort of thing would be very welcome.”

Pellagrino allowed himself a smile, which became a grin as the halfling crossbow with him brought down the last four of the enemy’s archers.

While the gallopers proved a disappointment, as their bullets only knocked one halberdier to the ground, the Pettirosso’s rangers made up for it by killing four more.

As another two of the rallied Pavonan crossbowmen were skewered by a ballista bolt, Duke Guidobaldo once more ordered the halberdiers to fall back a little further, presumably attempting to find the best spot to make a stand, perhaps where the swordsmen or pistoliers could be of some use to the fight.

While the lesser Pavonan wizard watched as her magical ring’s bound fireball failed to burn any of the rangers, her more powerful colleague was spoiled for choices when it came to targets. In the end decided he would go for what he presumed were the most able of the enemy’s fighters – the men at arms. He cursed, however, for although he felt the power of the spell’s bite, the enemy’s armour proved impenetrable.

Then, to his great satisfaction, only moments later, the Pavonan cannon felled three of them.

The Pavonan crossbow, despite their toing and froing of earlier, had at last managed to shoot, killing two of Pettirosso’s band. This, of course, especially considering how badly they themselves had been mauled, did not at all satisfy their desire for vengeance.

The halfling crossbow company, despite the gun-barrel levelled in their direction, now moved bravely up to the river’s edge …

… and on the army’s other flank the barone’s archers also drew much closer to the river.

The pike, meanwhile, steeled themselves and began to march quickly to the bridge, skirting the edge of the tollkeeper’s cottage. It was time for action.

Now was the moment, thought Barone Iacopo. At last, he was to launch his mailed fist into Pavona’s face.

No more waiting, distracting, preparing, drilling. This was the start of the real fight to end the threat of the Gondi and the Pavonans, not just punish them for what they had done.

The wizard Zita Scadutto had a smaller battle on her mind, focusing a magical wind on the crossbowmen.

The ethereal winds of magic coalesced at her command and transformed into an altogether more mundane wind, so strong that it blew the crossbowmen several tens of yards back, causing some to roll and tumble, others to slide as they vainly fought the power directed at them. (Game Note: She pushed them off the table edge!) This gave her much satisfaction, although she soon became aware of the continued frustration of the archers beside her. Yet again, circumstances had thwarted their chance to make pin cushions of the foe.

This time, Pellagrino blessed Pettirosso’s rangers, to better the success of their shooting, then risked another conjuration of chain lightning.

Once again, he was successful, this time striking down six of the halberdiers, but once again he failed to keep control of the flow of energies he had conjured and a great surge coiled about him violently, bursting outwards to kill Captain Gildo, the army standard bearer, and two more of the poor halfling crossbows with him.

Yet still, the brave lads refused to run, and stood – reeling, dizzy, but not broken. Pellagrino could not work out which hurt more, the guilt for what he had unleashed on his own comrades or the piercing ache his head caused by the miscast.

The Pettirosso, however, had been blessed not cursed by Pellagrino, and commanded his surviving rangers to loose at the halberdiers.

This they did, killing five. The Pavonan’s strongest regiment had been reduced to half strength, and had yet to cross blades with the foe!

They did not flinch, however, nor complain, for the duke was with them. They were silent, calm and quite clearly filled with righteous fury. As far as they were concerned, holy Morr was on their side and his favoured mortal servant was with them. They were intent, even content, to fight to the very last. Little did they know the premonitory nature of this notion.

Just then the galloper guns fired at the wall before the enemy cannon, breaking it down and leaving the crew exposed.

As the crossbowmen returned to the field of battle, Duke Guidobaldo at last ordered the halberdier regiment (what was left of it) forwards to mount the bridge.

Despite their losses, they believed that with the duke by their side, there were none who could defeat them.

Apart from his one word command to advance, Guidobaldo said nothing – it was a reticence that seemed to prove his steadfast nature, as if he had no need for words, only deeds.

A simple gesture was all that was required for the drummer to sound the halt, just as the regiment reached the gentle crest of the bridge, before the shattered plank of the defences. Behind, the swordsmen moved up, as the pistoliers weaved their way through to regain their original position.

The battle on the bridge was very soon to begin.

Nothing came of the Pavonan wizards’ attempts at magical harm, for the halfling wizards used various means to bat the spells away. The gunners took their last chance to shoot at the pike, killing three, with a ball that no-one could bat away.

Yet the Verezzans did not falter and continued their approach.

With a cry of “Vengeance for Lord Lucca“, Captain Bugni now ordered the charge …

… and the pikemen crashed into the halberdiers.

The wizard Pelligrino, despite his earlier disasters in trying to control the spell’s energies, cast Harmonic Convergence upon the pikemen, successfully gifting them an unnatural edge in the fight.

The pikemen could feel the blessing, the confidence and power flowing through them, and their cheers took on a keener edge. This sound cheered Pellagrino, and encouraged him to try one more spell, hurling lightning from the heavens to kill first five swordsmen …

… and then four pistoliers.

Pellagrino began to grin with satisfaction. He felt like he could dance with joy (which he had been known to do in the past), but something nagged at him, then began to needle his already pained brain uncomfortably. His expression turned to horror when he realised that once more, he had not fully encompassed the energies employed for the spell, and that a stray shard was now swirling uncontrollably, gaining worldly power with each rapid turn. Before he could speak either a warning or an apology, the spinning, ethereal intensity burst into the mundane world, felling him and all but two of those with him. The last survivors staggered in shock, then ran, unsteadily, but with all the speed they could muster, away from the bridge.

(Game Note: Turn 4, and this was his third, and fatal, miscast!)

Barone Iacopo failed to notice, for at last, and to his great satisfaction, he and his archers were able to loose no less than two quick volleys at the recently returned crossbowmen across the river …

… killing them to a man.

The Pettirosso and his rangers brought down another pistolier with their own somewhat less voluminous volley …

… and Pandolfo’s brace of light guns damaged the enemy’s great cannon.

In the very centre of the battle, upon the bridge, the crucial fight had begun. Whether the Pavonans held the bridge or the Verezzans crossed it would surely decide the victor. Both sides had been battered, although the Pavonans had taken the lion’s share of harm. If the duke could deny the Verezzan’s passage, then Pavona had a fighting chance. Perhaps Lord Silvano would return with the realm’s real marching army? Or maybe the Verezzans would slink away with their tails between their legs, having learned that Pavona was not an enemy they could beat?

The melee was furious, as serried rows of pike points thrust through rank after rank before the halberd’s heavy blades could bring their own harm to bear. Twelve Pavonans were slain by the first force of the charge, with three more perishing on Captain Bugni’s busy blade.

The duke lopped the head off the pikemen’s champion, his loyal captain slew another and the surviving halberdiers hacked down two more.

But a thin blue line held the Verezzan tide in check, yet with their beloved, red armoured lord amongst them, they would not budge.

(Game Note: Crown of Command granted stubborn, and the duke’s house-ruled, counts-as army standard bearer rules applied. So, a re-rollable 9 break test.)

While the swordsmen steeled themselves behind, the Pavonan pistoliers trotted along the river’s edge to get closer to the halfling barone and his archers. A desperate move by desperate men, although perhaps these young gentlemen had decided that if their lord was to die then they should do so too?

Witnessing this boldness from the window of the smaller house, the lesser Pavonan wizard hurled a fireball using her enchanted gold ring …

… killing three of the Pettirosso’s rangers and causing the rest to run from the little compound.

Chuckling cruelly at the sight, the other wizard summoned another fireball using his own magic and hurled it into the barone’s archers.

Eight archers were fatally burned, and some little corner of the barone’s mind began to question the cost they were paying to exact revenge on the Pavonans.

But such was the hatred filling the rest of his mind, that he barely noticed the calculation.

The more powerful Pavonan wizard watched the duke’s fight from his window with concerned fascination. Hoping to assist his lord, he tried to cast a magical imprisonment of flame on the pikemen, but the enemy wizards thwarted his magic. (Game note: A double six on the dispel attempt.) While the pistoliers killed but one of the barone’s archers, and the cannon felled a single mounted man at arms, the duke bore down upon Captain Bugni …

… cutting the brave fellow’s head from his shoulders!

The pikemen finished off the last of the halbderdiers, so that now only Duke Guidobaldo and his own captain opposed them. And yet, still they stood their ground.

Unwilling to receive any further attention from the cannon, especially when their present task was simply to await an opportunity to join the fray, the Verezzan men at arms rode some way across the field, towards the now rallying rangers (one of whom waved at them as if to tell them, “Watch out!”)

The galloper guns, on the hand, moved closer to the cannon, so that both they and the bolt thrower could target it.

Neither the Pettirosso nor the surviving wizard, Zita Scadutto, could bring any magic to bear on the foe, for the enemy was too far removed from them. But the barone’s archers were able to reach the pistoliers with their arrows, killing three of them.

As if wholly resigned to their inevitable fate, the last two refused to flee. Much to the Verezzans’ frustration neither their gallopers or ballista could cause harm to the cannon. On the bridge the pikemen managed to wound both the duke and his captain, but did not kill them. The price paid for this was three more of their own lives. (Game Note: The duke rolled three 1s with his four attacks.)

The taking of the bridge was proving quite a challenge, but the pikemen’s spirits were lifted by the fact that both Pavonans had now been bloodied.

Both Pavonan wizards chose again to hurl fireballs at the barone and his archers, this time killing seven, so disheartening those remaining that they and their lord fled away.

The barone still wholly intended to see this battle through, but he was damned if he was going to waste his own life and that of his archers by simply standing too close to an enemy his men would struggle to shoot.

(Game note: I cannot believe that my boy and I had not yet realised that the gallopers could dispatch the wizards with relative ease by targeting the buildings. Mind you, as GM, I may have felt obliged to keep said knowledge, if I had it, from the player! Usually, however, I do like to advise both players equally regarding options, without emphasising one choice as best. More usually, the players come up with their own, better ideas.)

A moment after, a cage of magical flame descended upon the pikemen, killing two of them. Nevertheless, they fought on. Two of them thought they had surely skewered the duke, but were magically thwarted by some blessed artefact he carried. The Pavonan captain, however, was less well protected and finally fell, so that now Guidobaldo, alone, held the bridge against the pike. Yet still, he did not flee.

It seemed like the stuff of myth and legend: a resurrected hero facing an entire regiment of foes, unwavering as he refused to allow them to pass.

Again, the Pettirosso and his band occupied the fenced yard …

… while the little barone chose to put some more distance between himself and the enemy wizards, having ascertained that the bridge was almost taken by the pikemen and his mounted men at arms were still intact. He halted just before the outermost ballista.

He had always known it would not be him who took the bridge, nor any of his kind. But he had commanded the army, arrayed them for battle, and done what he could to help. This would would have to satisfy him. It was down to the fighting men of Verezzo to carry the day.

The gallopers now shot at the larger house, from which they had witnessed fireballs being launched, and struck it.

They could not know it, but they had hurt the wizard within, enough for him to make up his mind it was time to save himself and leave.

Suddenly there was a great cheer from the pikemen, and all on the field, friend and foe (apart from the gunners whose battered ears would take some time to recover before they could discern such sounds) knew that the duke had been cut down.

With an anguished cry, the Pavonan swords now charged the pikemen, for they could think of nothing else to do.

The fight was bloody, as it was bound to be.

But the pike had the advantage – of ground, of morale, of every one of their serried ranks being able to thrust at the foe – and with the death of six of their own, the swordsmen’s will to fight dissipated, catalysed by their shock and grief at the duke’s demise. They turned and fled, and in so doing, the first of the Verezzans strode onto the far side of the river.

All other Pavonans now turned to run, but not before the last gunner touched a burning match to the bruised powder in the barrel’s pan to send a roundshot to smash one of the gallopers, disabling it entirely.

The day was won, if at considerable cost to the victors. The enemy’s army had been all but wiped out, with only a handful of survivors scrabbling away from the field. Pavona lay wide open, and Barone Iacope took solace from the fact that substantial reinforcements were on the way, indeed already close, so that he would have the means to continue both his chastisement of Pavona and, if necessary, to take on Lord Silvano should he return in time to interfere.

When he reached the bridge, accompanied by the mounted men at arms – his own archers having left to tend the wounds of those fallen comrades who were yet alive – he went immediately to the red-armoured corpse, for he struggled to believe it really was Guidobaldo. Once the helm was removed, however, his doubts were almost wholly washed away. If it were not Guidobaldo, then the man had a twin brother previously unknown to the world, or the duke’s very corpse had been reanimated to walk and fight again.

The pikemen reported how the duke had fought ferociously, with long-honed skill, and Iacopo remembered hearing years before of the duke’s youthful victories in battle, fighting at the head of his army. It seemed despite Guidobaldo’s age and injuries, he had not lost his ability with a sword, nor the strength to bear it well (no doubt aided by the powers of various magical trinkets).

The barone looked up to the sky. Could his greatest enemy really be dead? And if so, then why continue this war, now that cruel justice had been achieved?

Just then, however, he wondered how young Lord Silvano would take the news – a thought that quickly led to another. Here and now, by killing the duke, he had surely made a new enemy just as implacable as he himself had been since Lord Lucca’s death. An enemy, moreover, with the hereditary right to rule Pavona, the ardent love of his people, and perhaps all the martial abilities and pride his father had ever possessed?

Despite the barone’s earlier optimism, he reaised this might be the start of a long and brutal war. Perhaps the only way to avoid such would be to act decisively and assiduously; to give Pavona not a moment’s chance to recover and to strike its new duke down at the very first opportunity?

He did not think he had bitten off more than he could chew, but he did now wonder if it was more than he could stomach!