Capitán: A Renaissance Wargame

[Rolman]

♫​

May I speak informally, sire?

Thank you, Lord Duke. Well, the mission ought to be simple enough, no? For you, that is. Let us put intrepid Colón to shame with our feats.

The tyrant Frenchman Carlos thinks all the world ought to be his, waltzing into Nápoles on a spurious claim and usurping the throne from His Most Catholic Majesty's cousin. He defies Pope and Emperor alike, none could stop his march, and after just four months of war, all Italia is on the verge of bending the knee. Between his arrogance, his usurpation, and the implications for all the peninsula, our Catholic Monarchs have deemed necessary an intervention on the behalf of order and justice – and to, perhaps, bring the peninsula into more righteous hands.

His Most Catholic Majesty, as you well know, witnessed firsthand your successes in the final battle against the Mohammadan heathens. He regards you as one of the best commanders in the Union, a loyal subject, and good friend – Her Most Catholic Majesty the Queen concurs, and they thought no man better suited to the task than your lordship.

Welcome to Messina, sir. We're a pinch late. Our fellow expeditionary and master of our navy, his lordship the Count Requesens de Palamós, alongside His Majesty the King of Nápoles, have already crossed the strait and seized Regio. The King's impatient but fiery, certainly no coward, and now we've got to catch up with him before he bites off more than he can chew. His Most Catholic Majesty deemed the Count your subordinate for this campaign, but I fear at the end of the day it'll be the King of Nápoles with ultimate control so long as we're in his realm. May he not get us in too much trouble, heh.

Are there any..? Alright, good, I can be frank with you here, then, Lord Duke. The Nápolitanos are, well, rather lacking in the skill of warfare. They're hungry to expel the foreign devils, yes, but many are fresh from the plow, and compared to the French knights and their Switzers? Well, they may be the shaft but it's up to us to form the spearhead. It's true that the Lombard princes, the Venetians, His Holiness, and so forth have at last overcome their initial shock and rally against the French in the North. I've even heard that King Carlos has fled Nápoles proper; the reports are shaky. But we ought not count on anything.

The quartermaster-major has finished the count of men and materiel. Some of our soldiers are with the Count, we won't know exactly how many till we catch up. Accounting for deaths and supplies expended on the voyage from Cartagena, this is what we've got:


Under your command, all numbers approximations.

• 1,200 rodeleros
• 600 pikemen
• 700 crossbowmen, bolts for ~5 pitched battles
• 300 jinetes
• 100 knights, full plate, warhorses, lances. Doubling as personal bodyguard, staff, aides, etc.
• 100 arquebusiers, shot and powder for ~3 pitched battles

• 1800 melee infantry, 800 missile infantry, 400 cavalry – 3,000 fighting men. All professionals brought from home.
• A similar amount of support staff (sutlers, servants, ferriers, wagon-drivers, barber-surgeons, coopers, cartwrights, chaplains, musicians, etc.) These men may be armed and sent into the line if need be, though their skill and morale ought to be obvious. Mainly Spaniards at the moment but already a few Sicilians hanging on.

Under Count Requesens:

• The fleet and a small force of infantry.

Under the King of Napoles:

• A large and enthusiastic army of dubious quality, surrounding a small professional core.

Promised by His Most Catholic Majesty:

• Up to 12,000 reinforcements promised for now. Sluggish and piecemeal deployment likely; it could take a year or more for that number to materialize.

Morale is high. Payroll has ample coin and runs smoothly. The men chatter about bonuses and booty.

The men are overcoming the illnesses and imbalances brought by shipborne travel. They'll be right as rain in a few weeks at absolute worst.

Supplies are full and could easily be replenished here anyway.

It's nearly summer and overland travel is easy, though the men will tire more easily in the hot sun.

 

[Rolman]

On voting: sometimes I write the choices, and sometimes it'll be open-ended planning with number-crunching and flank distribution and whatnot. You'll have the most freedom of choice during battles themselves, the "campaign map" updates, so to speak, may be a pinch more railroady.

On maps: A map will only be provided if the Captain-General can find a vantage point; the location of standard-bearers and the dispatching of runners will provide positional information otherwise.

On dice rolls: They will not be used. Plans will be judged on their merit by the QM and cross-referenced with late Medieval and early Renaissance military manuals and historical example.

On command and control: Depending on discipline and morale, your troops may not do what you tell them to. Unplanned charges and retreats are a part of war. Runners may be killed and orders may wind up garbled.

 

[Rolman]

He's a fiery man indeed, this King of Nápoles. Fancies himself a knight, but you know better. Those days are over, anyways, and the man seems to be out of his element. A few conferences with him make that much clear; all he is is attack-attack-attack. And this is his Kingdom – he's got the final say.

The King wants himself a quick march toward Nápoles proper, and is eager to defeat the French in open battle. He seems to not know that he doesn't know, among other things: where the enemy is located, how many of them there are, and whether they're even aware of the capture of Regio yet. Worse yet, the fool's forced us to garrison the city. This ties up Count Requesens, too, who is furthermore expected to manage all things naval. Poor man.

[The size of your force has been halved temporarily, excepting the cavalry, and the immediate counsel of Count Requesens is unavailable.] ​

The King is chomping at the bit, and is eager to get his some 6,000 peasant-soldiers into the fray. But, thankfully, you've got direct control over your men, on that matter you cannot and will not budge.

The Nápolitanos are marching on the likely garrison-town of Seminara. You'll have to follow them eventually, but there's orders can be issued while you're still in the city.

[] Probe northwards using our cavalry – bypassing Seminara.

The jinetes will utilize asymmetric warfare to scout out and harass any French forces in the field. The rest of your forces will join the march on Seminara on the King's terms.

[] Work with Count Requesens to convert sailors into garrison troops.

Thus freeing up some or all of your professional troops for the campaign proper. However, the King, in his impatience, will certainly leave without you.

[] Join the march on Seminara as the vanguard.

What the Nápolitanos need is help; that's why you're here. Besides, your soldiers may be the only ones worth a damn. God willing, they'll handle the enemy, rather than the King's army of rabble.

[] Write-in.

 

[Rolman]

The march to Seminara winds through olive groves and dusty dirt tracks, ever-lined with peasants chanting the King's name, joining up with billhooks, axes, and inherited helmets. Every village hails the King and every walled town opens their gates and raises the Nápolitano standard. Seminara itself is three days' march away, with only a few easily-won skirmishes against French riders and isolated patrols to show for it. Casualties are negligible.

You eagerly await the return of your jinetes, and usher in their captain to your command tent. It's the 25th.

"Captain, what have you seen?"

He takes a knee. "Lord Duke, we could never get close enough to them for fear of their archers."

You point out your map of Italia to him, stretched taut across your table with paperweights. "Show me, sir."

He snakes his finger up the peninsula, almost to the Gulf of Taranto. "Believe it or not, my lord, we saw nothing at Seminara itself. We spotted one force closer to the north, and one force further. Marching toward us. Cavalry – with valets and archers – in the former, Switzers in the latter."

"With valets," you repeat. "Heavily-armored, then." You place a hand on your chin. Nothing like the Moors. That could be a problem. "How close are they, do you reckon?"

The captain looks upward, mouthing numbers to himself. "The vanguard is perhaps the same distance from Seminara as we, at this point, the Switzers a day or two behind – but I would not swear on it."

"I'm sorry, lord Duke," he continues. "We could do nothing more than harry a baggage wagon here and there, though I'm proud to say a few little companies have split off into the country." He smiles. "Of course, their pursuit shall be in vain."

"God willing," you reply, "they won't make it to Seminara on time." You lower your voice. "That damned Fernando. Why must we be so hasty?" You exhale. "So, you reckon there's… Several thousand of them?"

"Something like that, lord Duke."

"We need more information."

But you're quickly overruled; the King declares that we'll stand and fight as soon as Seminara surrenders – which it does – and that there's no more time or need for scouting. He's wrong, of course, but you cannot say that.

On the morning of the 28th, your jinetes spot the French force in its totality east of the city, over a little range of hills in a valley. Curses that you couldn't catch them divided, and curses that Fernando forbade further reconaissance. The King orders a quick advance and, silhouetted against the sky, any hope of surprise is lost. Under the fool's orders, the army descends down into the plains below, intersected by a shallow brook, thus losing the high ground as well. Before losing sight of them as you approach eye-level, you note the French deployment.

The day is hot and sunny.

Their Switzers are spread out – only three ranks deep, which you're told is unusual. Their lighter infantry and Scots archers are similarly deployed behind them.

You are ordered by the King to take up the right, parallel to the enemy cavalry, as he rides well ahead of his militia-army to deliver a rousing speech from atop his horse. He's a showman, alright, and completely exposing himself to boot. You deploy in the traditional pattern: jinetes spread out in a forward screen, with rodeleros and pikemen deployed in such a way to leave gaps for the missile troops to pass through. This is the only way you know how, and the best way to utilize your troops from what you've learned in Granada.

They must be confident. You're told their French-Scottish commander is a fearless one -- and talented, too. Trumpets sound and the French infantry begins a general, walking advance. Their cavalry, however, moves at speed and enters the stream with a splash, their steel-shining gendarmes leading the charge with lightly-armed valets trailing behind. It's unclear whether they intend to turn toward the Nápolitanos or assault your positions. They'll move slowly until the brook's forded – buying a few minutes of time. The Nápolitanos, meanwhile, begin a slow forward march to meet the French infantry, the peasant-soldiers cheering and singing. The King seems ignorant to the danger of the enemy cavalry, and continues to lead from the front, banners held high.

Time to act.

[Sorry, this thing sucks IMO. Someone help me make these, I beg you. No more maps will be provided unless you opt to move off-map back into the hills, damaging command, control, and perhaps even morale.]​

[] Plan name
[] Optional map edit
[] Jinete orders
[] Rodelero and/or pike orders (you may opt to split these forces into distinct groups)
[] Bodyguard orders
[] Crossbow and/or arquebusier orders (you may opt to split these forces into distinct groups.