Defense of Yamatau Part 2: Hold The Line
Naranbaatar was used to setbacks. It was the natural progression of war for a side to gain an advantage, however minor, yet still lose. But this was something else entirely.
His plan to use the fortress as bait to destroy Aristov had failed. That blasted General Fulk had made the siege drag on for far longer than he thought possible. And then Aristov had flanked them, all but destroying his secondary army like it was nothing.
Naranbaatar had hoped that Aristov's army had taken heavy casualties in the fighting, but they walked away with minimal casualties.
But he had pounced on this opportunity and trapped them in the fortress, with no contact with any of their allies to the west. It would have been easy to starve them out, with only probing assaults on the fortress to make them lose morale. The campaign would have take at least the winter season, but they would have suffered a sad, pitiful death from starvation.
Then he heard about the mass of prisoners the Imperials had taken from the second army. It was too much of an opportunity to not pass up. A single man snuck over the wall, no problem. Rouse the prisoners into a frenzy, any fool could do that. The result should have been them being distracted putting down the revolt while his army battered down the walls and plunged their spears into their backs. It should have been the death blow for the Russian campaign, his masterpiece.
And then the sky started to rain fire. Naranbaatar had seen the artillery on the fortress and had prepared himself for the inevitable barrage of rocks and fireballs. He had thought he'd picked the idea position to be protected from the cannons and catapults alike.
But it was all for naught, whoever manned those artillery pieces was a master with them and seemed to have control over the weather itself. The fireballs rained down when he was preparing his assault, striking the assembly area beyond the camp's perimeter. And then it struck the main camp, right in the supply storage tents.
The storage tends where his siege equipment was kept.
Naranbaatar had taken advantage of the chaos in China to fulfill a tradition as old as Genghis Khan: Chinese Mercenaries. He'd managed to secure an alchemist as unscrupulous as he was intelligent. Cast out 'unfairly' from the Emperor's court for experiments on criminals, he'd brought a large supply of gunpowder and a weapon that had been spreading across the Imperial Army's ranks: firepikes. Spears with a compartment that could launch many small rocks or a jet of incendiary gel. And during your secret trip to the Sultan, he'd made quite an astonishing discovery. In the last war with the Roman Greeks, the Sultan's scholars had cracked a secret so prized the Greeks apparently withheld it even from the Emperor himself: Greek Fire, they called it.
The alchemist had declared it 'decent enough for barbarian standards', and decided to improve upon the compound himself. The result, after much haggling and paying the Sultan back some of the massive amounts of money he'd given you, was something like a sticky sap that burned for hours even on the desert sands and spread out surprising distances.
Narranbatar had planned to mine the fortress walls with the gunpowder, and use the incendiary sap to burn the fortified seat of Russian nobility to the ground. But when flaming rocks had hit the tents, the gunpowder had been set off in a chain reaction.
And sent the ignited sap raining all across the plain.
The alchemist was dead, and his knowledge with him, no point in looking. Naranbaatar had no other choice for his next action. The fires were spreading too fast to contain and fight, and the barrage still raining down gave more fuel to the conflagration. It would become a storm in minutes, he had to attack now.
His infantry had managed to save the ladders for scaling the walls, his cavalry could still dismount and batter the gates with whatever weapons they had. He could not stay in his position, and he could not retreat, else he loses his support from the other Khans.
Naranbaatar's grip was tight, but a victory would make his position unassailable.
He then realized he'd lost track of that Tepes boy. He hoped that he was incinerated in the fire that had engulfed his camp. He'd dutifully chronicled everything, but the boy's attempts to kill him were just amateurish.
Naranbaatar gave the order. "CHARGE!" With fire behind them, they would look like demons from the Christian hell, and they would strike fear into their enemies' hearts.
And he needed to get his horses away from the blaze before they ran away on their own.
(POV Change)
Philip saw the horde of men charging towards the fort and smiled. Everything was going according to plan. At least to force them to charge into the fire of their cannons. But he could see the rest of the men on the wall were wary. A few shuffled out of formation, towards the back of the lines. "Jory!" He shouted the man's name. Vasily's oldest companion turned to face him. "Man the siege defenses! Don't let any of them through the gates!"
"Aye!" Jory replied as he turned towards the corp of infantry that he was commanding "Hurry up lads!"
"Archers!" He shouted. "When they are in range, fire at will. I do not care if it is a volley or not, we need arrows raining down without stop!"
The charging horsemen had separated into three groups in front of you, one going left, the other going right, both to flank around the fort to get to the other entrances. The last one continued forward towards the main gate. Leading the charge was a man on a horse as white as the falling ashes from the fire. Philip could see the magnetic way that even charging at full gallop, that man was in control of everything.
"Ionnos!" Philip shouted again, this time to his artillery master. "The man on the white horse! That's the Great Khan! Kill him!"
"You don't need to tell me twice!" Ionnos replied. "Aim at that white horse and wait for my command!"
(POV Change)
Fulk wasted no time in reinforcing the walls and gates. With everything on fire outside, it might be for the best, especially with the way Philip was looking when he was barking orders on the walls. Something had happened, something that made Philip become frantic in giving his orders.
In all his years of fighting the Mongols that meant only one thing. A full charge from the entire horde.
Such a sight was beautiful in its own terrifying way, one that he never had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing.
But they were coming, and by god he was not going to give a single inch of this fort to them without shedding blood.
(POV Change)
Ionnos was praying to God as he finished his thoughts. He only had one chance. He knew that once an officer knew he was targeted, he was going to blend into the crowd of men and horses, becoming a ghost hiding in plain sight.
He only had one shot. And he was going to take it. "FIRE!"
Wall Artillery Tactical Roll:
1D100 => 65+35= 100 vs
1D100 => 88+ 40= 128
Enemy Troops Lost:
1D20000 => 19407
Enemy Morale Loss: None due to Commander Traits.
Enemy Morale:100/100
Enemy forces remaining: Unknown.
Attempt to kill the Khan failed, will not have a chance to kill him until the Walls are breached.
(POV Change)
Naranbaatar felt the world around him explode. The hot dirt stung his skin, his ears rang with a sharp, high-pitched mimicry of birdsong, and he felt the familiar itch of bleeding across his face and arms. He realized he'd been thrown from his horse, and the ground was rushing to meet him. He rolled with the impact, coming to his feet unsteadily. As he wiped the blood from his eyes, Naranbaatar steadied himself before checking himself over. The bleeding was minor, as most of what covered him seemed to be from his now pulverized horse. A few small pieces of metal and bone in his arm was the worst of it, and such things were nothing to the Great Khan. As he joined the charge to the walls, his men seemed to not notice him. He blended in seamlessly, just another son of the Great Mongol Nation fighting for his life.
"Dammit… They almost got me."
(POV Change)
Basilius drew his sword. They were going to get to the wall in seconds at least, and another minute at worst. "Archers! FIRE!"
Wall defense Archers tactical rolls:
1D100 => 49+35=94 vs
1D100 => 41+40= 81
Enemy troops lost:
1D10000 => 9165
Allied troops lost:
1D1000 => 9
Enemy Morale Loss: None due to Commander Traits.
Enemy Morale:100/100
Enemy forces remaining: Unknown.
Basilius saw the line of men and horses fall from the raining arrow fire that was unleashed by your men. But the Mongols kept on coming. The arrows they fired were hastily aimed, all falling short or flying harmlessly into the now empty courtyard.
Then they reached the walls, and fear gripped your heart.
The ladders touched the walls and everyone drew swords. And then the first human face appeared over the wall. All hell broke loose.
(POV Change)
Fulk nearly got killed when a sword stabbed through the gate near his face. "Ah fuck." He swore. "I'm getting too old for this shit!"
"Oh quit complaining old man!" Alfonso shouted as he broke the sword in half with his warhammer. "Unless you want to die!"
"Would you both shut up and keep the damned gate shut!" Ashford replied. "They're trying to try to force it open!"
Than Fulk tripped backward, one of the forceful pushes knocked him back. "Back to the gate!" He ordered. "Keep it shut!"
Hold the Gate!:
1D100 => 50+25=75 vs
1D100 => 45+40=85
The Gates have been lost. The Fort has been breached.
The gates shattered open and he saw them… the horde was before General Fulk.
His sword in hand, without a second thought, he charged into the breach, meeting his enemies head-on.
Defense Tactical roll:
1D100 => 72+25=97 vs
1D100 => 73+40=113
Allied Troops Lost:
1D10000 => 7035
Allied Morale Decreased by 5.
Allied Morale: 95/100
Enemy Troops Lost:
1D10000 => 2841
Enemy Morale Unaffected due to commanders traits.
(POV Change)
Vlad Tepes was ready. He hated having to wait, but the fires were still too thick and hot to charge through.
But it was his moment. He was getting his brother back… And saving Vasily Aristov from his untimely demise.
He gave the order. It was a simple thing, a wave of the hand.
He did not care for the flashiness that other commanders had. He wanted his brother back, and he wanted to kill as many of the bastards that took him as possible. He leveled his banner and shouted. "NOW!"
Vlad Tepes Reinforcement flanking tactical roll:
1D100 => 96+20= 116 vs
1D100 => 10-15=(-5)
Enemy troops lost:
1D100000 => 88483
Allied troops lost:
1D1000 => 205
Enemy morale decreased by 30
Enemy Morale 70/100.
Enemy Troops remaining: Unknown
(POV change)
Naranbaatar reached the top of the ladders and immediately killed a man who tried to swipe at his head. He was annoyed at that. He was never as into honor as some of the other Khans, but he felt that sort of thing took too much of the prowess out of fighting.
He turned his head and looked behind him, and he saw more calvary entering the field from the smoke being led by a man with the banner of a dragon. VLAD TEPES!
How had he missed him? How in the hell did he miss him? Naranbaatar could barely believe the Wallachian prince had gotten so far so quickly.
"KHAN!" He heard a scream, an animalistic scream that belonged more to a beast than a man.
A man clad in armor that was stained red with blood was before you. You recognize him well from your scout's reports. You remembered the last time you saw him as clearly as if it was yesterday. The little Khan now stood as tall as his father. His sword was stained with your people's blood. And his eyes held an inhuman rage focused entirely on you.
"DIE!"
Duel between Vasily Aristov and Naranbaatar has begun.
End Part two.
Due to The walls and gates being breached, you cannot change tactics.
AN: So... That happened. Enjoy, and we have one, maybe two more parts until everything comes to a close.
