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8th Ed, Holy War


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
I wonder how you will rate the outnumbered defenders efforts?


The Fight at Sersale Continued
Turns 3.5 – 6


Although it was some time before he would know it, Volker’s earlier musings concerning the possibility of a relief force proved to be partially correct. A company of light horse, the Black Gulf Road Wardens, a band of mostly Arabyan mercenaries who patrolled the VMC’s protectorate realm, now galloped onto the field of battle close to the Sartosans’ baggage and their left-most piece of ordnance. There were not enough of them to swing the advantage of numbers, nor realistically to increase the Alcentian’s chances of victory, but their presence near the gun, and especially the baggage, was a very worrying development for the pirates.


Certainly, the gunners and those men tasked with guarding the baggage were alarmed. The first made extra haste in the reloading of their piece with chain-shot, while the second commenced a heated debate concerning whether they should form a body to fight or hide amongst the baggage to better their chances against arrows. The loudest was shouting that the enemy must have intended this all the time, and that the village’s defence was a merely ruse to draw the army into a fight while the baggage was taken. Louder still was the answer from an old, one-legged sea-dog,

“Aye, I reckon you’re right. Now catch up and help us decide what to do about it!”

Being near the village and in the front rank of his marching crewmen, Volker attention was held by what was going on ahead of him. Farq’s goblins had already poured over the defences, cut down the last of the crossbowmen and crashed pell-mell into the armoured men at arms awaiting beyond. They would have their work cut out for them, thought Volker, as the enemy they now faced were obviously not militia but professional mercenaries, carapaced in steel.


The goblins might just find their rust-ridden, ill-sharpened blades would struggle to penetrate such armour. Still, Volker thought, if Farq can hold the enemy back just long enough, he and his own lads could get at the swordsmen. Suddenly, as he belatedly realised they were bound to do, the swordsmen charged into Farq’s flank.

Now it would take divine help for Farq’s scurvied scallywags to stand their ground for any time at all.


The remnant of the pike body to Volker’s left were clearly no longer in a fit state to assist anyone effectively, and even if the goblins held long enough for his own men to join the fight by charging the swordsmen, that would give the enemy halberdiers an opportunity to flank charge him! What resulted would be right, royal mayhem, and possibly exactly what the defenders had been planning.

He needed a moment to think.


So he took that moment, while his lads watched the goblins’ fate with sick fascination.

Game Note: My campaign players are in truth roleplaying one character. If they die, they are effectively out of the campaign, until we can work out who they can be and how to get them back in! Establishing their new character can be a long, hard struggle! Jamie is Admiral Volker, and commander of the Sartosans. He was once Razger Boulderguts the ogre tyrant, who left Tilea with a huge haul of loot after his chevauchee. Now Jamie is Admiral Volker, which is not so different as he is after loot yet again. But he has to stay be alive to enjoy it!

As the butchery began in the village, with nearly four times as many goblins falling as men, the horse archers in the rear loosed a flight of arrows at the gunners, killing one, even as the gunners hauled the piece about to face them. Staring down the muzzle, more than one of the riders felt their stomachs knot in fear as they reached for a second arrow - they knew the gun would fire before they could loose.

With eleven goblins killed, and large enemy bodies assailing from two sides …


… Farq and his boys did what everyone else knew they did well. They ran away. The men at arms stood their ground, but the militia swordsmen, rage momentarily getting the better of them, pushed forwards a good few steps before their captain could halt them.


The goblins hurtled through the enclosure towards Captain Garique’s handgunners, leaving an only slightly disrupted enemy line behind them.


Farq later swore that Garique’s lads presented their pieces at his goblins, to which the captain answered that no such thought ever crossed his mind. Only those involved knew the truth of it, and they stuck to their stories. For whatever reason, the goblins halted and reformed to face the enemy. The consensus amongst the rest of the army was that it would have taken just such an event to stop the goblins’ flight. Farq himself claimed that he when he heard Volker’s command, he simply and obediently did what he was told.

Volker had decided the enemy needed a touch more softening up before he committed his own boys to the fight, and so while the blunderbusses and dwarfs continued their long march towards the orchard on the flank, he ordered his own men to move a little to the right, clearing a line of fire for the gun behind.


Vedus now headed off alone towards the horsemen. The pikemen were only too glad to see him leave. He could have commanded them to go with him, so not to expose himself to too much to harm, but in light of his previous, dreadful mishandling of the etheric winds, he decided he had put them through quite enough and ought not endanger them anymore. It also meant he could be less concerned about any spellcasting missteps.


Fixing his eyes, indeed his whole mind, upon the riders, and happy to see they had to get too close to the baggage or the gun, he nervously wove what little magical breeze was available to generate and loose a flurry of fireballs. Three horses and their riders perished in the conjured conflagration, while the rest were singed by the heat. Yet they did not falter or flee.

He cursed, silently, for it had seemed to him that he had missed his chance at redemption. Then watched as a fourth rider crumpled to the ground, both horse and man horribly torn by the chain-shot fired by the cannon before them, and yet the riders still did not flee. Vedus cursed again, for as they spurred their horses and began to level their spears, he knew they were not going to try archery again. He could see from the surviving gunner’s wide eyes that they too had the measure of what was coming their way!

The other gun, a way cleared before it to reveal the recently victorious men at arms …


… now blasted chain-shot. Armour proved insufficient against such a missile, and five of the mercenaries perished most bloodily. Rather than panic them, the event seemed merely to act as some sort of sign. In good order, they moved into the building behind them. Volker assumed at first that they were seeking somewhere to shelter, but then changed his mind for their calmness made that seem unlikely. They moved with precision, entirely unlike hard-pressed men looking for somewhere to hide. What new trickery was this?

His line of thought was broken, however, as the swordsmen charged Farq’s mob yet again. After a brief but messy fight, in which the goblins hurriedly fired counter-shot and famous ineptness with powder killed two of their own to add to those cut down by the foe, Farq and his boys broke and fled right through Garique’s handgunners, this time failing to notice whether any muzzles pointed their way!


This left the swordsmen somewhat exposed, especially as the halberdiers had about faced like the men at arms and were now marching off towards the city. That settled it for Volker – he knew what the enemy had surely intended all the time. The enemy had never expected to win, but only to delay and wound him, before returning to the city to man the walls, where they would face his army in a weakened state, or perhaps bolstered by a relief force now given just enough time to arrive?


If he had known what was happening to the rear, it would only have bolstered his theory, for the horsemen had cut down the gun’s remaining crew. Several of them quickly dismounted to work out how they might disable the gun permanently. They knew a spike would be only temporary, for it could be drilled out, and so now argued whether to attempt to drag the gun away or blow it up with its own powder.


The baggage close by, heavily weighted with loot, seemed of no interest to them. They were surely operating under orders, as part of some desperate strategy and were only interesting in disabling of stealing the gun.

(Game Note: My players and I have had to come up with some campaign house-rules to cover the ‘recovery’ of cannons that have not exploded but just lost their crew. It is easy enough for the BRB to say the crew models indicate the remaining number of wounds, but when it comes to campaign casualty recovery, more thought is required!)

As Farq once again managed to halt his goblins, this time from a position of safety in the rear of the fighting line, Volker gave a simple command,

“Have at them!”

And led his crews over the hedge into the swordsmen.


The fight was brutal, just as Volker knew it would be. His men might not have armour and shields, but they were festooned with blades and pistols, and he and van Baas were famously skilled in the art of applying both. Arcabar the wizard cast the spell Flaming Sword to further improve the Sartosan’s deadliness, just before he himself was wounded. Several of the enemy had gone for him in particular, at the cost of letting down their guard to the other pirates. Here too was a sign that they were acting on orders to weaken Volker’s army, not to save the village.


Arcabar’s pain meant he failed to notice a sudden flare in the etheric breeze. Vedus, his apprentice, had summoned up fireballs to fell another pair of horsemen, but yet again, perhaps catalysed by the continued discombobulation of his mind caused by his previous failure, he had lost control of the conjuration and the energies he had failed to bind now seared his mind. Staggering dizzily, he clutched at his temples, temporarily robbed of his senses. Moment’s later, as the sights and sounds of his surroundings began to reappear, he knew something was badly wrong. And part of what was wrong was that for some time he could not for the life of him work out what it was.

Game Note: Another Miscast, ‘Power Drain’. He lost two levels and all his spells, now becoming level zero. You might have guessed this was coming, but my players and I have now had to come up with some campaign house-rules concerning the ‘recovery’ of wizard’s magic levels. It is easy enough for the BRB to say the wizard’s level is ‘permanently’ reduced, but that is in terms of the tabletop game, one battle, not an ongoing campaign. Some considerable debate ensued, and I had to do a bit of haggling. I try not to be a tyrannical GM!)

Indeed, so befuddled were Vedus’ wits in that moment, that he failed to notice that the last surviving gun and the swivels in the central trees (the latter yet to contribute to the battle at all) between them now killed four more of the riders. The last survivors, spattered by the blood of their dead and dying comrades and their horses, abandoned their now fruitless efforts to drag the gun away and fled the field. They would not stop galloping until they reached the city walls. Nor did their mounts complain, being only too happy to put the fires and bullets ever further behind!

At the little enclosure before the village, a queue was forming! The Sartosans were stacking up in a column with the goblins at the rear and Volker’s men at the front.


The main body of Sartosans had cut down a veritable swathe of the swordsmen. Unsurprisingly, the Alcentians turned and fled, running right through the halberdiers behind.


But even this did not break the defenders’ will, as both the halberdiers reformed to face the foe, as did the swordsmen to the rear!


Another jump been made in this deadly game of leapfrog, with more surely yet to come. Volker knew exactly what the enemy were up to. Each time he assaulted them, his wizard Arcabar was carried into the fray. If the Sartosans halted to allow the wizard to leave, then the enemy would do the charging.


Volker had not expected such bravery and stubbornness. And Arcabar had not expected to be wounded in the melee.


(Vedus, on the other hand, had forgotten what he had expected, along with pretty much all that he had done that day. It would take him some time to realise he has forgotten all his incantations too! )

So it was, as the sky began to darken that Volker and his men had to fight and break the halberdiers, then fight the swordsmen yet again!


The day was won, bar the last bout of fighting. None of the swordsmen would ever leave Sersale. Volker learned later that it was their village, and thus unlike the rest of their force, they had never intended to leave.

At what cost, though, this victory? Volker asked himself. The city lay before him, but it would be defended, and not only by the men at arms who snuck so cleverly away, but by whatever other forces had been obtained or raised while the battle here was fought. He had begun the day with three pieces of ordnance. Now he had only one. Two wizards had marched here with his army. Now one of them was a mere shell of a man, emptied of all magical powers. Volker’s mauled regiments were mostly intact, especially as his army could now tend the wounded, but he was far from home and there would be no reinforcements for him before he attacked the city.

Meanwhile the Alcentians not only could recruit and hire from the eastern parts of their realm, or the city itself, or even by way of the sea, for lack of manpower meant his fleet was unable to blockade the city. His ships had skeleton crews, for most of his mariners were here with him.

All this fighting, and he had yet to face the VMC’s actual army! Of course, the army’s absence was the very reason he had come, but he had now been in the realm of Alcente so long now that it could conceivably arrive any day. The reports had said they were far to the north, but reports could be wrong.

Perhaps, even with a famously rich city so close, it was time take what he had, plus what his lads could loot from Sersale, and return to Sartosa? Surely that was enough to sate his army?

He had more thinking to do!


Thank you Jamie and David for your patience during this week-long pay by e-mail battle. Now I have the last campaign map moves etc of the season to make, and 6 long (private) reports to write!
Jan 1, 2017
What an epic battle, indeed!
and very smart play by the defenders, in the end it was really the only option they had to ensure a hope of future victory, and to avoid the raze of the city.

Much thinking for Volker, as pirates want gold and in the end this fight was all for naugh as their big prize cannot still be claimed.


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
I know this goes 7 (real world) years back from current campaign events, to a simpler time, but part 4 of my video version of the account is up on YouTube. The delay was mainly because of the work on the above new battle report - I am apparently working at this campaign from both ends, as well as currently kit-bashing a new regiment of gas-masked skaven!

You can find the new video, 'All That Astiano Has to Offer', a short and simple battle report to get the campaign going, at ...

Jan 1, 2017
I know this goes 7 (real world) years back from current campaign events, to a simpler time, but part 4 of my video version of the account is up on YouTube. The delay was mainly because of the work on the above new battle report - I am apparently working at this campaign from both ends, as well as currently kit-bashing a new regiment of gas-masked skaven!

You can find the new video, 'All That Astiano Has to Offer', a short and simple battle report to get the campaign going, at ...


Yep, i saw it! I'm going to watch it as soon as i can. ;)


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007

To His Holiness Bernado Ugolini, Most Highly Favoured of Morr, from your faithful servant, Brother Migliore
Upon the second day of summer, 2404

If it pleases your holiness, I hereby and humbly present that which I have learned from my correspondence with the servants of our Holy Church of Morr, scattered throughout Tilea.

Several great battles were fought this Spring, and as one old enemy was pushed further from Tilea’s heart, another revealed itself to present an open threat. Two undead armies were annihilated by the Lord Alessio’s alliance force, in which your own Reman soldiers honourably serve, but even as these great victories were obtained, a swarm of ratto uomo emerged to the east to capture Ravola, driving out the Bretonnian Brabanzon mercenaries who had only recently taken possession of the walled city from the last of Razger Boulderguts’ ogres. What few Brabanzon survived, led by the wizard Perette, escape to find refuge in the forests, there meeting with the outlawed Arrabiatti Brotherhood, before making their way south to the city of Campogrotta.


It is possible the Arrabiati brotherhood of shadows grew in strength during the time of Razger Bouldergut’s rule, as those who fled slavery joined them to strike at the ogre tyrant’s forces wherever and whenever they could. I can report that they have amongst them at least one Morrite priest, whose name I do not know. Once the ogres departed Tilea, it seems they intended to contribute to the war against the vampires, but now the rat-men present a more immediate threat to their traditional home. The people of Campogrotta have joked that the Arrabiatti would accept with open arms all those they once called tyrants, if it meant that rats, brutes and walking corpses were finally gone!

Campogrotta’s ruler, the condottiere General Mazallini, was awarded governorship of the city realm by the dwarf King Jaldeog as part-payment for his service in the war against the ogres. The general had already dispatched relief north to Ravola after receiving a report that the ogres had returned to lay siege there. That force soon learned it was rat-men not ogres, and that Ravola had already fallen, then travelled back to the city with the wizard Perette and the surviving Brabanzon to report on the situation.


Mazallini has apparently failed to send out another, larger force as yet. It may well be that he is awaiting advice or assistance from his patron, King Jaldeog of the mountain realm, or perhaps he is instead simply preparing for the defence of Campogrotta in the struggle ahead?

The general has published the sent the following missive to all Tilea’s rulers and governors …

A warning freely given to all the lawful rulers and powers of Tilea, concerning a new threat in the north.

I, General Bruno Mazallini, commander of the Compagnia del Sole and Governor of the city realm of Campogrotta, do hereby advertise to all those with ears to hear that once again the wretched Ratto Uomo have poured forth in strength from their vile lairs to taint the land of Tilea. They have already taken the realm of Ravola, and doubtless intend to swarm further south. Reports of their forces have also come from the vicinity of Trantio, where they were sighted by Lord Alessio of Portomaggiore’s soldiers, despite a complete lack of reports from the lands between Ravola and Trantio. From this, two inferences can be made:

First, that the ratto uomo assuredly seize and befoul much more than Ravola alone.

Second, that they have tunnelled under a significant stretch of the realm.

These undeniable facts mean that every Tilean state needs to ensure its preparedness for the oncoming fight, and to join in alliance to bolster the strength of arms that can be brought to bear. Tilea, Estalia and the Border Princes have suffered greatly at the hands of the rat-men throughout history, sometimes caught by surprise due the adversary’s cunning ways, but here is a warning – their hand has been shown. We must act quickly and assuredly. Forewarned is only forearmed if each and every state ensures it preparedness, making what efforts are required, spending the necessary gold and mustering sufficient forces. A forewarning ignored forespells only doom.

No engines were used in the assault on Ravola, instead they arrived only after the city was taken. Whether their tardiness was deliberate or the result of some delay, we know not, but any general would surely consider an assault against a city whilst lacking war machines a foolhardy exercise.


Their noxious catapults and incinerating cannons are only too well known from the many occasions they have been used in the past. Furthermore, my own scouts and others have reported that the ratto uomo have in their possession a poison that can taint large swathes of land, and indeed has already done so, despite not yet being deployed in battle. This is something new, housed in some kind of engine, able to kill every living close to it, even before it is brought to bear against a foe. Something so destructive that it bleeds poison merely by its passage. Its true nature can only be guessed at, but every blade of grass, every tiny, crawling creature upon the ground over which it passed, withers and dies. Those of my men who spent only a short time at the site of its passage have sickened and remain in perilous health. All of which suggests that great ruin and terror might result should this weapon’s potential be unleashed.


Even now brave scouts are attempting to discover the engine’s true nature. I have ordered my own servants and soldiers to do all they can to learn more and am preparing for the battle ahead. But if Ravola, defended by a not inconsiderable garrison, failed against what seems to have been nothing more than an advance force of their main strength, then all should know that any one state alone is unlikely to withstand this enemy.

If you do not wish to see Campogrotta fall, so allowing the enemy to take a step closer to your own realms, and to be made bolder by their victory, then I would advise you act decisively and swiftly, immediately sending what relief you can to assist mine own forces in thwarting this threat. The ogres have ravaged city after city, and the vampires also cut deep, but let not a final, fatal blow be delivered by the ratto-uomo. There remains in Tilea strength sufficient to the task in hand, now is not the time to let it lie idle, nor to squander it for want of trust and cooperation among us.

May all the gods pour their blessings upon us their dutiful servants and may brave Myrmidia inspire sound strategy in our commanders, and true courage among our soldiers.
As I have already alluded to, in the north west, Lord Alessio Falconi’s alliance army fought two great battles, first defeating the vampire duchess at the Second Battle of Pontremola, then driving out the last of the undead forces from the city of Ebino. Not only were the undead armies annihilated, but the vampire duchess herself and nearly all her lieutenants were finally, truly killed. Determined to see his grim task through to its conclusion, despite the threat to his own realm presented by the Sartosan pirates raiding the peninsula’s southern coasts, Lord Alessio forces are even now probing the nightmare realm of Miragliano …


… intending to cleanse the city state of all corruption. In his first victory, the Portomaggioran and Reman soldiers recaptured the carroccio looted by the vampires’ servants from Arch-Lector Calictus II’s defeated army. Lord Alessio has ordered that this be re-sanctified to holy Morr, so it can be used to help in the cleansing necessary in the rotten realm of Miragliano. A young priest from Campogrotta has travelled to assist Father Bendali in this task.

Lord Alessio’s efforts are to be further assisted by the somewhat late arrival of the army of the VMC to join his alliance force, or, more accurately, by the arrival of half of the VMC’s marching army. The VMC general, Jan Valckenburgh, shortly after being entertained in Remas by Arch-Lector Bernado Ugolini and having received the gift of the greatest piece of artillery in Remas, learned of the depredations of the Sartosan pirates in his realm of Alcente, including the razing of his town of Mintopua. So it was that he decided to return post-haste with half his army …


… to the relief of his beleaguered realm, while the Mryrmiddian priestess Luccia La Fanciulla led the remainder of his forces northwards to rendezvous as promised with Lord Alessio and assist in the war against the vampires.


It is said that General Valckenburgh saw fit to take the mighty cannon he was gifted by the leader of the Morrite church with him towards home, despite the fact that it would surely slow him down, or that it was intended for the war against the Morrite church’s old enemy, the undead. Many a Tilean is unsurprised by this, what with the callous, profit-centred nature of the VMC widely spoken of.


Nevertheless, Luccia la Fanciulla, the wizard Johannes Deeter and his apprentice Serafina Rosa and a considerable force of pike, shot and brutes, have joined the Portomaggiorans and your Reman army in the camp outside Ebino, perhaps thus forming the mightiest army mustered in Tilea for an hundred years.


This great army now ready to advance boldly into Miragliano, and it is widely assumed that it will surely sweep all enemies before it, cleansing the realm and exterminating this current line of vampires.

In the far south, Admiral Volker’s army of Sartosan pirates has looted its way through no less than three settlements in the realm of Alcente. They began with the town of Mintopua, where their arrival caught the inhabitants entirely by surprise, then marched on to raze both Motolla and Sersale, facing only minimal resistance at the first and more stubborn but ultimately futile resistance at the second. Made rich by the plunder of all three settlements, Admiral Volker is presumably now weighing up his chances of taking the richest prize, the city of Alcente itself. At Sersale his ordnance was much reduced by mishaps, and one of his two wizards suffered almost catastrophic consequences of his mishandling of magic, thus reducing exactly the elements the Sartosans might need to assail the walls of a major city successfully.


Meanwhile, in the city itself, despite the fact most of the militia tasked with defending the city had already died at Sersale, a compliment of battle-hardened mercenaries survived, while supplies and reinforcements were able to reach the city almost entirely freely, as the Sartosan fleet, stripped of most of its manpower to form Volker’s land army, was unable to hinder the VMC vessels’ passage to and from the port.


Three Alcentian settlements may lie in ruins, their populaces mauled and bruised, anything of value stolen, but the VMC possess several other settlements to the north and east, from which supplies came by way of road and sea, which should allow the VMC to recruit, arm and train new militia and even bring in new mercenary forces. And better still, half of the VMC’s marching army, still a considerable force in its own right, is marching home and is generally believed to be no more than a few weeks away. All of which means the citizens are confident that the enemy cannot take their city, and once again – after a period of some doubt – are of the opinion that their city council made the right decision when requesting the VMC’s protection from their enemies. The orc warlord Khurnag barely harmed their realm, and now, it seems, despite having done more harm, the Sartosan sea dogs’ stride has been broken, and their chance of taking the richest prize has possibly slipped out of their grasp.

It is generally presumed, for want of any report to the contrary, that the Sartosans still possess the person of the Luccinan king, Ferronso. A ransom was neither agreed nor forthcoming, and the young, royal hostage’s uncle, the wizard Duke Ercole Perrotto, remains resident in Portomaggiore, pleading daily for aid in raising the required sum in gold. The duke’s requests have fallen on worse than deaf ears, but rather no ears at all, as Lord Alessio is campaigning far to the north against the vampires. Such a sum as would be required to satisfy the Sartosans could never be raised nor released without the ruler’s express command, and he has many more immediate concerns to occupy him!

General Marsilio da Fermo, once commander of Luccini’s army, has returned to Luccini to take charge of the healing of the grievous wounds inflicted by the pirates. Very little of value escaped their avarice, from precious gems and metals to livestock, but crops remain in the fields and vines still have grapes to harvest, for the Sartosans’ goal was theft, not complete destruction. They took anything of value which could be carried, and all the meat and drink they could find, but grain and grape remain, and enough people to harvest it.

Meanwhile the realm of Pavona continues its own recovery from its mauling by Bouldergut’s grand chevauchee. Much of the city state lays in ruins, but the town of Scozzese has become an almost thriving market and promises the chance yet again for Duke Guidobaldo to raise tax revenues from his subjects - a very necessary source of income now that no banking house will loan him even a copper token. His own, much diminished, army remains intact and retains a core of fanatical, veteran soldiers of several campaigns from which he could possibly, given time, begin to rebuild the sort of army he once commanded. This reassures the people of Pavona and worries the neighbouring realms in equal measure!

As a consequence, there has been much activity in the neighbouring realm of Verezzo, where Barone Iacopo, Lord of Poliena and now the realm’s Capitano del Popolo, is raising new forces to counter any future threat from Pavona. The barone served in the allied army at the Valley of Norochia, then later rushed home to Verezzo when he heard of the death of his beloved lord Lucca.


Duke Guidobaldo was never punished for his most treacherous murder Lord Lucca of Verezzo, nor his subsequent attempt to have either the Portomaggiorans or the army of the VMC blamed for the crime. The VMC general, Valckenburgh, did not see his retaliatory siege of Pavona through to completion, and although once-mighty Pavona has been much battered by Boulderguts’ brutes, and its recovery subsequently slowed by the short-lived siege of the army of the VMC, it seems that Guidobaldo still rules with an iron grip. The barone has warned all his neighbours that if Guidobaldo was willing to attack Astiano and Trantio when his realm was prosperous and powerful, out of a simple greed for more power, then now that his realm has been much diminished and he has become desperate and friendless, he is hardly likely to be less dangerous. The duke of Pavona was always a proud man – his own subjects were taught to call him ‘Morr’s chosen prince’. Now that he had been humiliated by the forced apology he had to make in order to convince the VMC to leave, he could become an even greater danger. He attacked and looted Verezzo out of mere lust for gold and was willing to have others blamed for his evil actions. Having failed in that (and suffered further as a consequence) his want has only increased. What terrible, faithless deeds is he willing to contemplate now?


So it is that a new regiment of pike has been formed to bolster Verezzo’s forces; or, more accurately, half-pike, for it is halflings who carry them. They drill almost daily, under Iacopo’s watchful eye, while the entire realm is kept in perpetual readiness should the Pavonans raid again.


There is one Verezzan who is most keen to exact vengeance on Duke Guidobaldo – the famous ‘Pettirosso’, Roberto Cappuccio. It is widely reported that this brigand turned captain turned outlaw has pleaded with Iacopo to attack the Pavonans immediately, while they are weak and before the righteous anger at their crimes diminishes (although Cappuccio claims it can never fade for him). The Capitano del Popolo, however, refuses to launch a hasty attack, instead busying himself with ensuring Verezzo’s defences, whilst raising and drilling an army able to face the Pavonans in the field of battle head on. Which leaves the Pettirosso and his dwindling band of outlaws fighting their own petty war of ambushes and assassinations, picking off Pavonans, firing farms and stealing supplies.


Barone Iacopo has even sent secret missives to several Pavonan nobles, even the heir Lord Silvano, in which he declares that perpetual peace and even amity between the two realms is achievable in return for merely handing over Duke Guidobaldo to be tried for his crimes by a jury of peers from neighbouring realms. So far, every missive has been ignored. Indeed, it is said that the duke’s own family and servants have ensured he remains entirely ignorant of the letters, for fear that he might suspect them of treachery simply for the act of receiving them!

So it is, in the very heart of Tilea, while vampires and rat-men threaten the north and Sartosans ravage the south, two once-noble realms are wholly lost in mutual hatred, their long-lived animosity now locked into a desperate squabble over the death of one nobleman.

I hope, your holiness, my letter proves of some use to you. Should you require more particulars, then you have only to ask and if I myself cannot answer I will do my utmost to learn from those who can do so.


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
I know this thread is now operating at both ends, 7 years ago and right now, of the campaign. But hey, what can I do?

The next video, part 6, is done! It starts with a spot of history then continues with a prequel story to a forthcoming battle report.

This should get easier, especially as I won't have to re-do the photographs for the later reports, and I should find the process a little easier too.

A Monstrous Assault




Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
My next campaign video is up, part 7. I am hitting a weekly stride. It is the second battle report of the campaign, in which Razger Boulderguts' ogres assault a Bretonnian held castle. It features the original battle pictures from 7 years ago, plus new ones using some of the same figures.

Jan 1, 2017
My next campaign video is up, part 7. I am hitting a weekly stride. It is the second battle report of the campaign, in which Razger Boulderguts' ogres assault a Bretonnian held castle. It features the original battle pictures from 7 years ago, plus new ones using some of the same figures.

Just watched it, tnx to the youtube notification. Top!


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
I might be starting to get into the swing of them. Just wish my computing machine could keep up - it's a bit clunky and old for all of this!


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
Part 9 of Tilea's Troubles is upoaded:

(Yes, those heavily milliputted figures are ancient, and still in their 1980's paint job. A good friend of mine painted them when we were students.)

I am also currently in the middle of making scenery for the next battle, as well as writing a new story for the campaign thread, not just more video stories from early in the campaign. This will involved many new pictures and perhaps some painting. There are three battles to do soon, although I do not know whether to wait until the lockdown rules allow us to play them together or whether I should do one or two of them as play by e-mail like the last three!
Jan 1, 2017
I am also currently in the middle of making scenery for the next battle, as well as writing a new story for the campaign thread, not just more video stories from early in the campaign. This will involved many new pictures and perhaps some painting. There are three battles to do soon, although I do not know whether to wait until the lockdown rules allow us to play them together or whether I should do one or two of them as play by e-mail like the last three!
You really like to keep yourself busy! xD


Black Knight
Nov 10, 2007
I do! Now here's a campaign 'present day' story ...

Pavona’s Hero
Summer, 2401, The City of Pavona


The sound of drums could be heard, growing louder. Giovacchino leaned forwards to look over the crowd between him and the street. When the strong ale in his pot sloshed and threatened to spill, he relaxed a little turned to his companion.

“I think this is lunacy,” he announced. “There’s a new war brewing, right on our very doorstep. I think the bloody Verezzans believe they’re strong enough to take us on. Even if they’re not sure, they might be bitter enough to try anyway. Yet Lord Silvano is taking nearly the entire army away on another foreign war! We should finish off the Verezzans first - put an end to their pathetic whining and make sure they don’t try anything else.”

Corporal Aldus was also peering down the street, and answered without glancing at his friend, “Why don’t you take the matter up with the duke?”

“I’m taking the matter up with you!” said Giovacchino. “Look, see, I know this is what Lord Silvano does - riding off to fight monstrous foes - but there’s a time and a place for that sort of nonsense. This ain’t the time at all, and Campogrotta’s too far away to be the right place. I mean, do the Campogrottans even need our help? They’ve an entire bloody army of their own, and that the gods-forsaken Compagnia del Sole, cousins of the very enemy that put us to all that trouble years ago. Why in all the hells are we sending our boys to do the fighting for them? I tell you, there’s no part of this makes sense.”

A company of drummers, being the first in the column, were now passing by, beating up a jaunty march indeed, which was everything to do with this sort of parade and nothing to do with battle calls.


“So, let me get this straight,” said the corporal. “You’re questioning the duke’s orders, yes? Well, my answer to you, my friend, would be that you should think hard about what you say and who you say it to.”

“No, no, no! I’m no fool,” replied Giovacchino. “I’m not saying the Duke is wrong. I just want to understand it myself.”

“Look, the duke’s a hard man, noble, yes, but a man of war. He takes whatever he believes is his by right. He doesn’t suffer fools and exacts swift vengeance on all who trouble him in any way whatsoever. And yet, all that said, what father would deny his only beloved son?”

“Aye, well, that only shifts the blame to the son. Doesn’t make the decision any less foolish.”

Corporal Aldus fixed his stare on Giovacchino. “You’re really not listening, are you? I already warned you - have a care! There are many would take offence to such words. I shall assume you’re trying to understand why Lord Silvano wants to go.”

“That’s it. That’s all. Why?”

“That’s easy. Lord Silvano is what you call a hero, always has been. I reckon since his brother died fighting Prince Girenzo, he’s been desperate to prove himself a worthy successor in his father’s eyes, to show he’s afraid of no challenge and willing to take on any foe.”


“So, you’re saying our army marches off when we’re at our weakest, and when our closest neighbours and others besides have a whole bag o’ bones to pick with us, because a young lord wants to prove his mettle? Maybe he should worry more about being a worthy successor to rule Pavona when his father dies, and to do that he needs to be alive, and there needs to be a bloody Pavona left to rule.”

“You can’t help yourself, can you? Your mouth’ll be the end of you one day, if you don’t die on the end of an enemy’s blade. Stop complaining. We have the city militia, and I reckon there’s many an old soldier would happily muster for the city’s defence if it proved necessary. Pavona will survive and grow strong again. Who cares how loud the Verezzan dogs bay and howl? Any one of us could take on three of them.”

The drummers had passed by, although the sound they made was still filling the street. Now came the colours, marching together as a little company of ensigns. All were quartered blue and white, with some little extra added to each to mark them out on the field – a border, or tassels or a symbol upon the white.


Giovacchino sniffed. Then in a quieter voice said,

“It’s not just them though, is it? The VMC scum have unfinished business with us – they left off their siege only because they were persuaded the undead were the bigger problem. And the Verezzans may have been weak in the past, but everyone says they’re building an army squarely intent on revenge for Lord Lucca’s death. Their petty, brigand robbers have already begun the fight, sneaking about in the shadows to pick off our soldiers when they can get away with it without risking a fight. Scouting for them; learning the lay of the land.”

Corporal Aldus grinned. “Then it’s no bad thing Lord Silvano is marching our boys away, ‘cos then brigands won’t be able to kill them.”

Giovacchino spoke even quieter than before. “Except we’ll be among the few that remain, and it’ll be us they’re loosing their arrows at.”

Still cheerful, despite the notion, the corporal said, “I didn’t think of that.”

Now came a body of handgunners, one of which stared over at Aldus and Giovacchino as they passed.


“There’s Mariano,” said Aldus. “Does he still owe you sixteen silvers?”

“Aye. He’d better bloody survive ‘cos I need that money.”

“He’ll survive. He’s always been careful. Once told me he never fired his piece in that fight in the Trantine Hills. When I asked him why, he said it was so he wouldn’t have to clean it afterwards.”

“That’s the wrong sort of careful. The stupid sort!” laughed Giovacchino. “Aldus, you say be careful of my words, but it seems to me most people ain’t too pleased about the army leaving. The best anyone could say about this crowd is that it is respectful. None would claim any signs of enthusiasm.”

“They’re just tired,” said the corporal, whose head still ached from the old wound.


“Ha!” laughed Giovacchino. “They’re tired? They want to try marching all the way to Trantio and back, with only fighting to break the journey. If Lord Silvano has the urge to fight a righteous war, then why isn’t he going off to help in the march on Miragliano. The priests are always preaching that we live in Morr’s most cherished realm. Shouldn’t he be fighting the undead?”


“Oh, it’s too late for that,” said Aldus. “Duke Guidobaldo announced in his address that the war against the vampires is all but over. The enemy lost army after army trying to take on the Portomaggiorans and Remans, and now they’ve got the VMC against them too. All that’s left is the filthy job of cleaning up Miragliano, and I wouldn’t waste Pavonan lives on such nasty work. I reckon more’ll die of disease in such a wretched realm than in battle! If that war is over, then Lord Silvano obviously wants to make sure that the ratto uomo don’t gain an advantage while the living realms are weakened by the fight against the undead. Verminkind love ruinous places, and the north is one big ruin right now.”


“Not just the north,” said Giovacchino. “Pavona’s no better! All Boulderguts left us is the city and the southern side of the river. Astiano and Trantio are ruined too. Every realm hereabouts is as sickly and broken as the north.”

“Then praise the gods that our brave young lord is helping to quash the threat of ratmen before they grow too powerful.”

As the corporal spoke, he gestured to the street, for Lord Silvano himself, clad in brightly silvered armour and sporting a tall panache-crest of blue and white, his lance lowered as if to indicate his intention to advance, rode into view.


By the young lord’s side rode his knghtly standard bearer, and behind him rode the city’s young nobility, their shields decorated with Morr’s fleshless head, crowned as king of the gods.

“If you have the answer to everything, Aldus, then tell me this: Why didn’t the duke send Visconte Carjaval with the army instead of his only son and heir?”

“Oh, that was the plan. The Visconte had orders to that effect. But then the orders changed. You didn’t attend the temple this morning, did you?”

“My head still hurt from last night. Why? D’you think my soul’s in need of cleansing?”

“Ha! That and the rest of you!”

Giovacchino sniffed at his armpit, spilling some of the ale as he did so, then cursing.

“What about the temple?” he demanded. “Did you receive divine enlightenment? That’d explain all your answers.”


“The priest prayed for Lord Silvano’s success, then told us how the duke knew his son possessed a compassionate heart and a desire to serve the lawful gods, Morr Supreme above all, and that he yearned to defend the innocent, weak, the young and old, from all further upsets. Apparently, the duke even said his son was the better man than he, for where he had always taken rightful anger to bloody conclusion, his son was willing to temper his reactions with an urge to understand and forgive.”


Giovacchino frowned. “That doesn’t sound like the sort of thing the duke would say.”

“Maybe not, but that’s what the priest told us. And more than that, he said the duke had vowed to live ‘quiete and pacifice’ until his son’s safe return from victory.”

“Oh, that’s lovely,” said Giovacchino sarcastically. “It’s like poetry, ain’t it?” Then, more seriously, he asked. “Doesn’t sound like the duke either. Tell me though, is it true? Will the fighting end?”

Aldus shrugged. “I suppose if the Verezzan brigands stop what they’re doing, and everyone else leaves us alone for a while, then why not? Besides, the answer’s right in front of you. The army’s marching off. Say farewell to the young lord and our army.”

“Ha!” laughed Giovacchino. “And say hello to some peace and quiet.”