LION RAMPANT (v2!) AN ENCOUNTER AT DEVIL'S CROSS

The year is 1173 and King Henry II is embroiled in a vicious civil war (the Great Revolt), following a rebellion by his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, and his sons, Henry, Geoffrey and Richard. With Henry entangled in this familial conflict, King William the Lion of Scotland sees an opportunity to press his claims to the border counties of England and sends his remorseless warriors swarming over the frontier. One of his columns is led by Donnchad, Earl of Fife and, as they push south, pillaging and burning the land as they go, they approach a desolate crossroads to the west of Durham, known as Devil's Cross, where they encounter their first serious English resistance; the retinue of the redoubtable warrior, Sir William de Stuteville! 

For this first game of Version 2 of Lion Rampant, I used Scenario 3; Defend the Indefensible! The "immoveable object" was the crossroads and Fife had to take and hold it with no enemy units within attack distance at the end of an English turn (this is different to the victory conditions in the book) however, if he lost 50% of his starting points value, he would withdraw from the battle. 

Extract from the "Historie of the Earle of Fyffe's forraye into Northanhymbre, in the Year of Our Lorde, 1173. By Brother Fortunatus the Pungent...

As the cloying early morning mist slowly began to dissipate, Sir William de Stuteville stood at the side of the road and urged his retinue forward. His faithful bowmen had crossed the River Deerness, just a short distance ahead and, he hoped, joined the men of the local Fyrd, apprehensively guarding the road at Devil's Cross. Somewhere to the east, he knew that Bishop Hugh was gathering what forces he could to repel the Earl of Fife and his fearful horde, but it was unlikely that they would arrive any time soon and so, he and his retinue would have to face the Scots alone!

With courage in their hearts and weaponry supplied by the local garden centre, the fearless Durham Fyrd prepared to sell their lives dearly against the coming onslaught of breechless and barbarous Scottishmen! Or not!

Both sides fielded 24pt retinues; the English had 1 unit of Elite Infantry with Leader, 3 units of Heavy Infantry, 1 Unit of Archers and the Fyrd were Levied Infantry. This gave them 23pts so Sir William spent the extra point on the Leader Skill "Impulsive". The Scots had 1 unit of Elite Infantry with Leader, 1 unit of Heavy Infantry, 1 unit of Light Infantry with a Holy Man, 1 unit of Warrior Infantry with the 'Fearsome' upgrade and 1 unit of Skirmishers. The 22pt total allowed the Earl to choose the Leader Skill "Commanding".

With naught but utter disdain and contempt for their foes, the English bowmen, successors to the victors of the great and famous battle under the banners of Saint Cuthbert, Saint Peter, Saint John and Saint Wilfred, crossed the Deerness Bridge and hurried to give succour and guidance to the unpractised and unskilled men of the Fyrd. 

Yet it soon came to pass that, out of that mysterious rising mist did appear a ghastly apparition, one so foul that it had, throughout the centuries past, turned the bravest men's blood to ice and caused their knobbly knees to knock... the hairy men of Galloway, in all their ungodly nakedness, had arrived.

And more, yet more woes did befall the waiting Englishmen, as the Earl's spearmen, with spears of immeasurable length, more than twice the height of a man, did emerge, crying, "Behold! Look what feeble creatures the English have placed before us!"  And, considering the opposition awaiting them were no more than a trembling rabble, armed with sticks and small furry creatures, they pushed on, sensing a quick and easy victory in the name of their Liege Lord, King William the Lion................. of Scotland.

With the Lord's fearful symmetry cast down upon that field of war, most simultaneously, did the circumstance of the English party unexpectedly ameliorate, as one of Sir William's groups of heavily armed infantry spearmen arrived to the east of the river.

As they neared the crossroads, the seemingly unstoppable advance of the resolute and bloodthirsty Galwegians abruptly ground to halt. Long and bitter are the memories of those who have sat around the flaming hearth listening to the harrowing stories of the elders and, as they caught sight of the despised English bowmen advancing to the support of their quarry, images of the horrors caused by the flights of flesh shredding arrows filled the minds of the Gallowaymen.

Dikon the Dung Collector anxiously surveyed the terrible scene unfolding before his eyes. He glanced across at his life long friend, Walter the Wattle Dauber, trusted companion since they were mere babes, suckling on the teats of the great mother sow, in the pig sty they fondly called their hovel. Dikon could feel strange impulses coursing through his head; he did not know it, because he had never had them before, but he was experiencing, what the great scholars at the monastery called, 'thoughts'. In his 'thoughts', he could clearly see how to defeat the fast approaching heathens who regarded his earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely, he drew his plans against them. Suddenly, he could hear a familiar voice softly calling him, "Dikon! Dikon! Wake up you stupid pillock!" Emerging from his reverie, Dikon realised, with abject terror, that his blood had turned to ice and his knobbly knees did knock.

With a surge of valour, inspired by the advancing spearmen to their left, the Galwegians put aside all thoughts of the peril they faced from the waiting archers and swept forward once more, determined to unleash vengeance for the suffering of their forebears. They would let loose the gods of slaughter upon the vexatious English rabble and drive them either headlong or headless from their precarious position upon the crossroads.

Woe betide the man who who neglects the lessons of his ancestors. And indeed, just as calamity befell their forefathers over a score and more years before, the Galwegians were once again stuck about the body, so that they appeared to be covered like the quills of a hedgehog. 

Hesitation was now the greater foe and, though their valour kept them moving forwards, their blows and their courage were temporized by the shafts of the English arrows.

Like the thunder that roars over Loch Doon, the Galwegians burst into the faltering ranks of the Fyrd.

The brave men of the Fyrd fell under the blows of the Galwegian warriors, loosing more than half their number in the violent brawl.

Oh how the story tellers will reap the harvest of the slaughter; the twain staggered and faltered, their courage tested to the limit, but not 'battered' or broken, both Englishman and Scot fell back, buffeted and bruised. The crossroads was suddenly left abandoned by the living and peopled only by the souls of the slain.

But, upon this day of death, as so often it be the case, when it seemed as though the vital crossroads would fall, the Lord God looked kindly upon the English and yet more of their spearmen began to arrive on the field of slaughter.

But, after much delay on the road to the north, perchance, advantage may have swung once more to the Scots; the Earl, with his men-at-arms, his bidowers and yet more spearmen did finally arrive and thence began to push forward to support the struggling Galwegians.

Brother Brian, whose deeds and exploits were famed throughout the land, recorded by the illustrious chronicler, Walter of Barnsley, in his famous manuscript, "The Life of Brian", fearlessly lead the yeoman of the lowlands into the battle, forsaking all armour, and relying instead upon the protection of the Lord.

Misfortunately, just when it seemed as though the arrival of the great Earl himself, might bring hope and un-batteredness to the few remaining Galwegians, being, as they were, stuck all over with arrows, they lost all faith and, having experienced the loss of so many of their brethren, they did turn tail and fled the field of battle, to the eternal shame of their ancient nation.

To the east, the English spearmen, bearing the holy cross of the Lord upon their shields, mustered their courage and did advance upon the Scottish spearmen, armed, as they were, with pikes of a fearful length.

The Scottishmen, upon seeing the English heading their way, employed their well and truly practised drill and did form a mighty wall of spears; in some parts known as a schiltron, with which, they did hope to repel and cast the Englishmen asunder.

Throughout the whole land of the Northanhymbre, the almighty clash and din did resound as the two armoured hosts did collide. It is said that, as far away as twenty-three leagues, people did put down their dung-rakes and utter, "By-gum, did tha' hear that?"

The great and mighty gods of the war dice did favour the Scottishmen and their long pikes did skewer many an unfortunate English soldier, spilling copious pools of Saxon blood upon field and the road to the fair city of Durham.

The Englishmen were cast back across the road from whence they had come and they there did stand still, being sore afraid and un-willing to advance once more upon the wall of dreadful spears before them.

Ad interim, beyond the much disputed crossing of the roads, having seen off the poor and naked Galwegians, the English bowmen had taken up a position behind a hedge and were ready to inflict yet more hurt and death upon the Earl and, in particular, the yeomen of the lowlands, who were now roamin' across the gloamin', with Brother Brian urging them forwards towards their enemies.

The noble Earl did urge his men to a greater effort, to his right, earnestly encouraging Brother Brian to lead the yeomen of the lowlands forwards to drive the bowmen from their enclosure and, to his left, calling to his bidowers, who were also known, in some parts, as skirmishers, to hurl their entire weaponry at the knights of Sir William, who had advanced to occupy the crossroads.

And verily, did Brother Brian, hearing the entreaties of his liege lord above the clang and clamour of the battle raging all around him, lead his men forward to the green and verdant hedge, trusting his safety and wellbeing to the judgement of the Lord. However, in spite of their charge and the length of their weapons, the yeomen of the lowlands could not breach the defences of the English and they were pushed back, much to the surprise of all around. Indeed, the meeting between the yeomen and the bowmen was a brief and bloody affair and the Scottishmen did suffer grievously in the confrontation.

The bidowers did launch their weapons with great endeavour towards Sir William and his trusty men-at-arms. Indeed, so galling was their shooting, that one of the said men-at-arms was struck such a vicious blow that he was no longer able to continue in the fight.

As is often times the case, the Lord Our God wills that the decision in martial matters is resolved not by the lowly, but by the high and mighty and this was the circumstance on this day of strife. 

Back and forth across the gore soaked ground, the men of honour, Englishman and Scottishman, traded blow for blow...

Again and again the two sides hurled themselves into the fray, wearing each other down until both had lost a harrowing half their number. The patricians from both sides of the border had paid a dreadful price and neither could claim a triumph over the other.

The Earl and the knight faced each other across the crossroads, over which, so much blood had been shed. Spent of energy and intellect, Earl Donnchad surveyed the field of battle and the realisation dawned that he no longer had the strength to gain dominion over this desolate slice of moorland. With a heavy heart, the Earl gave the order for his remaining liegemen to withdraw and leave this lamentable piece of ground to the enemy. "Those who died this day must be avenged." he said, "We shall tend our wounds and gather our strength before we return to harry this land and retrieve our fallen brothers for, my friends in arms, we shall leave no man behind."

This battle was fought on my very small dining room table and it soon became obvious that two 24 point armies need a somewhat bigger area to deploy. At some point, I forgot about the Galwegians being 'fearsome', but I don't think it had a massive impact on the game. When the Galwegians came under fire from the English archers, it did remind me very much of descriptions of the Battle of the Standard in 1138. I have to say, I really enjoyed playing the game; with Lion Rampant, you can simply focus on fighting the battle rather than the rules and I'm sure the knight and the Earl will soon be back to renew their rivalry.