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Post by sforza on Jul 14, 2022 3:55:07 GMT -5
Mugillanus finds the enemy prepared for him, Neapolitan hoplites and Samnite hillmen arrayed with wings of cavalry on both ends - offering battle on an equal plain. Capua is beyond, with smoke rising from the surrounding encampments. (Hint: ask for an Intelligence check to "size them up") Consul Papirius Mugillanus rode at the head of the Roman cavalry, almost a thousand strong, as they approached Capua. The Samnite army were ready for them, much to the hot-headed consul's chagrin. No doubt their scouts had been aware of their movements ever since the legions arrived. It was truly a shame that such talented warriors would have to be slain - the fate awaiting all enemies of Rome. Despite his eagerness for battle, the consul was no fool to rush in head-first into battle without a plan. He needed to buy time for Claudius and the infantry to get into position, and more information on the Samnites. He turned back to his commanders. "Tribunes, tell the centurions to pick out our most eagle-eyed warriors. I want their best estimates on the size and composition of their army."
Young tribune Marcus intervened as the consul finished speaking. The son of Camillus had not been outstanding so far. "If it is your wish i volunteer to scout the numbers of our enemy."
The younger Camillus offered, eager to prove himself worthy of his family name.
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 14, 2022 12:20:30 GMT -5
Claudius turned his head slightly towards his older colleague. Like his father, Marcellus Minor was quiet and serious, which, along with the full beard and broad shoulders, leant the youth an air of seniority that belied the age difference between the two young nobles. “Consul Marcellus is a cautious man. I expect we shall not see battle without having properly looked for it.”
That meant a cautious approach, not a mad dash into Capua. Minor delivered his assessment flatly and dispassionately, the tone as ponderous as their rambling march towards the Volturnus.
“Though this will no doubt be tempered by the eagerness of his colleague.”
Papirius, the young and celebrated patrician, was more than eager for a quick victory and swift glory. But the auguries had spoken clearly enough - victory was a long stretch of time and blood away."Cautious," the older heir echoed, glancing over the fields to their left where a few indigines were struggling awkwardly with their sheep in view of the Romani column. "Consul Marcellus and my father must have much more in common; I've become convinced they've arranged some sort of deal." Servilius made it seem he was less aware than he really was, but in truth all his father had conveyed to him was how much he wished his sister Lucia was the son and that Quintus Minor hadn't been born. Instead, Lucia was a Vestal Virgin now.
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Jul 14, 2022 13:40:59 GMT -5
(Roleplay it how you want with the tribunes, but here is the result)
The Roman tribunes report back from several maniples, and the overwhelming agreement is that the Samnites and Neapolitans have an equivalent of two legions facing the Romani on this side of the Volturnus.
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 14, 2022 14:22:46 GMT -5
Marcellus, reaching the agreed place of battle, determined to at least build a fortified encampment on some decent ground while waiting for the bloodletting to begin. And so they did, the younger Hastati and lightly armoured Velites working up a sweat in the hot Campanian summer sun as the veterans, whose experience and age disqualified them from such menial work, took up patrol duty. Meanwhile the Consul, establishing his tent of command in the centre of the swiftly growing complex, had gathered what officers remained to him.
"Servilius." Marcellus called the young man to attention in the stale air of the tent. Now his helmet was gone, held by a slave that stood nearby with water, wine, and a cold cloth. He waited impatiently for the young man's attention.
"Take a party of our quickest men and find whatever locals you can within half a day's march. Bring them to me. Dismissed."
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Post by Royal Joker on Jul 14, 2022 15:04:50 GMT -5
"Consul"
Young tribune Marcus intervened as the consul finished speaking. The son of Camillus had not been outstanding so far. "If it is your wish i volunteer to scout the numbers of our enemy."
The younger Camillus offered, eager to prove himself worthy of his family name. The consul nodded approvingly and motioned at the enemy army. "Good initiative, Tribune Camillus. I'm putting you in charge of our eagle-eyed scouts. Now, get to it!" (Roleplay it how you want with the tribunes, but here is the result) The Roman tribunes report back from several maniples, and the overwhelming agreement is that the Samnites and Neapolitans have an equivalent of two legions facing the Romani on this side of the Volturnus. Mugillanus listened intently to the reports while his eyes never left the columns of Samnites arrayed before him. His staff were beginning to argue amongst each other, though quiet enough as to not disturb their commander. It seemed they were roughly matched equally, though it was impossible to say how many reserves or hidden forces the enemy were holding back. It would be a slog of a battle if they did not gain the upper hand early on. "Tribunes, to me. We face a foe that is our equal in numbers, if not in spirit. How would you defeat such a foe?" The elder statesman spoke matter-of-factly, as if he was a Greek teacher rehearsing his students on the works of Socrates.
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 14, 2022 15:43:42 GMT -5
Fabius balked at the query. Why in good Jupiter's name was the Consul asking him for battle advice? Surely, this was some test.
"Er, head on, sir. Our valiant sword arms shall carry the day."
Quintus Minor was oddly tall for a Roman, and so thin that his cloak hung loosely about his shoulders like a large blanket. Spindly, his father called him, and often likened him to an insect. It was the Consul's job to toughen him up, or so his father had told him. Serving in the army would put some meat on his bones and make a 'real man' of him.
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Post by sforza on Jul 14, 2022 15:59:48 GMT -5
"Consul"
Young tribune Marcus intervened as the consul finished speaking. The son of Camillus had not been outstanding so far. "If it is your wish i volunteer to scout the numbers of our enemy."
The younger Camillus offered, eager to prove himself worthy of his family name. The consul nodded approvingly and motioned at the enemy army. "Good initiative, Tribune Camillus. I'm putting you in charge of our eagle-eyed scouts. Now, get to it!" (Roleplay it how you want with the tribunes, but here is the result) The Roman tribunes report back from several maniples, and the overwhelming agreement is that the Samnites and Neapolitans have an equivalent of two legions facing the Romani on this side of the Volturnus. Mugillanus listened intently to the reports while his eyes never left the columns of Samnites arrayed before him. His staff were beginning to argue amongst each other, though quiet enough as to not disturb their commander. It seemed they were roughly matched equally, though it was impossible to say how many reserves or hidden forces the enemy were holding back. It would be a slog of a battle if they did not gain the upper hand early on. "Tribunes, to me. We face a foe that is our equal in numbers, if not in spirit. How would you defeat such a foe?" The elder statesman spoke matter-of-factly, as if he was a Greek teacher rehearsing his students on the works of Socrates.
The young Camillus would give his opinion to the consul that his father supported. The young Camillus looked much like his father, yet they were not really the same persons. Whereas old Camillus was a radical conservative thr younger one is more modere inclined.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jul 15, 2022 10:49:11 GMT -5
The consul listened in silence while the tribunes spoke.
"While I do not doubt your courage, Tribune Fabius, a cavalry charge without infantry support is doomed before the charge is sounded. A night battle is bold, Tribune Furius, but our enemy would no doubt expect us. The Samnites are a cunning folk, after all."
With a motion of his hand he summoned his staff and messengers.
"The battle for Campania draws near. We are to ride up and down this field, banging shields and shouting insults at the top of our voices. I care not if you insult their fathers or mothers, wives or children, call them whores or even insult their gods. I want these Samnites angry and stupid. But I don't want any brave heroics - we are not to engage them just yet. I want them charging after us, and we will lead them right into the clutches of Consul Marcellus and the infantry, just over yonder."
He drew his gladius and pointed at the enemy army.
"Men of Rome, Volsci and Latin! You have your orders, let's show these sons of whores how to fight a war!"
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Jul 15, 2022 21:18:49 GMT -5
"Possibly." The younger Marcellus conceded. He was not always privy to his father's political dealings, at least not for the time being. Marcellus himself resented that many Patricians looked at him a little differently than their compatriots, something that the Elder Marcus had come to terms with a long time ago as part of the 'natural order' of the Republic. In turn, Marcus Minor found himself a little more guarded and tight lipped around his Patrician peers, not willing to give them any ammunition against him."I suspect that my father wishes to ingrain himself further among the fathers through ties with such an ancient house as yours." He allowed himself, figuring that much would already be obvious to the younger Ahala. Ahala sounded flatly at his younger peer's answer. His sleepish gaze was peeled ahead of him, vaguely into the backs of their superiors. Quintus had given Marcellus Minor nothing but air, and he'd gotten nothing in return. He considered trying to force the conversation further, but he decided against insulting the younger man's intelligence - Ahala belonged to a caste which had defined itself centuries ago by declaring themselves henceforth superior in blood and spirit to everyone else; these old lines would never admit plebeians to be their equals, even when outstripped by wealth, power, and prestige. "Well, whatever the two are about, I wish them the best of fortunes," he mused, weakly, lazily, with a sigh in the saddle. Marcellus, reaching the agreed place of battle, determined to at least build a fortified encampment on some decent ground while waiting for the bloodletting to begin. And so they did, the younger Hastati and lightly armoured Velites working up a sweat in the hot Campanian summer sun as the veterans, whose experience and age disqualified them from such menial work, took up patrol duty. Meanwhile the Consul, establishing his tent of command in the centre of the swiftly growing complex, had gathered what officers remained to him. "Servilius." Marcellus called the young man to attention in the stale air of the tent. Now his helmet was gone, held by a slave that stood nearby with water, wine, and a cold cloth. He waited impatiently for the young man's attention. "Take a party of our quickest men and find whatever locals you can within half a day's march. Bring them to me. Dismissed." Servilius saluted the consular praetor and marched out of the principia without asking a single question, preferring to take the command at face value than test the patience of a man holding imperium. He rode off with a decemvirate and returned in, as one might have guessed, a few hours over half a day. The equites cantered into the castrum with a little over twenty native men - the tribune had assumed women useless, unless Marcellus intended to do to the Campani what Appius Claudius Crassus Inregillensis had done to a plebeian's daughter. "Imperator, I have returned; I have brought twenty-three men from the surrounding vici, as commanded."
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 16, 2022 8:28:51 GMT -5
”Well done, Ahala.”
Marcellus gestured to the first-spear centurion of his legion.
”Galba will interrogate these men for what they know of the surrounding area.”
The Consul commanded, and Galba moved to obey after a swift salute.
”Gently, if you please. Once you are done, pay them a purse of my gold and let them go tell the Samnites that we are marching swiftly to cross the river again and making for Neapolis.”
Marcus figured that throwing some confusion amongst the enemy would, at least, distort their plans somewhat.
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Post by fairies wear boots 👢 on Jul 16, 2022 20:38:31 GMT -5
Battle of the Volturnian MarshesIt was past midday when battle commenced; consul Mugillanus took a several-century strong force of equites to the fields west of Capua across the river, and faced down a full battle array presented by the foe. It began with yelling and taunting, as battles usually do, as each side tried to goad the other into making the first move. This went on for a couple of hours, until Papirius Mugillanus and his tribunes felt that if battle was to be brought, it had be to be done now, as the sun crept its way across the sky into the western quarter. They rode close to the enemy lines, and out came the tribal horsemen of Samnium. The war-makers from the hills of Samnium have not neglected the mastery of mounted warfare; Mugillanus and every Roman wealthy enough to afford a warhorse learned this, this summer day. Despite being outnumbered by nearly twice their number, the Samnite equites quite quickly threw the mounted Romans back in the direction they came. The conflict turned into a dance, as the different bands of cavalry would form up, make chase, wheel around, and make chase again; Mugillanus eventually led his horsemen into the field of view of his peer, consul Claudius Marcellus. The second consul could not make out the difference between Roman horse and Samnite horse, but he could see the mass making its way closer and closer to his position by the disease-infested swamps - and every man could see the enemy's infantry some ways behind, casually following the engagement less than a mile behind at a comfortable pace. Using his best judgement, Marcellus ordered the legions out in full force, for the battle was to be like any other battle; pitched upon a flat field between equals. The approach of spearmen on both sides prompted the breakup of the hundreds of horsemen and their tired steeds; this cleared the field, in time, and led to the classic hell any man who had seen war would have expected. The Parthenopeans, or Neapolitans, were arrayed in the center, forming a long and impressive wall of hoplon shields, glimmering in the sun. No doubt every Roman's mind remembered the news that would periodically flow into Roma, tales of Greeks destroying Persia and conquering the known world, beyond the eastern seas. The Samnites formed themselves up on their ally's flanks, their loose formations a little discordant with what the Romans and Greeks were used to. The ensuing clash commenced and continued until Apollo began to crest the western horizon and the men felt the sweat and blood on their backs begin to cool and chill with the summer twilight. Whistles, horns, and cries filled the air on both sides, beckoning retreat and withdrawal from ally and enemy alike. Exhaustion and time had forced the two forces to put an end to the struggle, for the day. Retreating to the safety of the swamp-adjacent camp constructed by Marcellus, the Romans counted their dead and rested. Notably, the Volsci took the brunt of the casualties in the mounted combats. The overwhelming opinion was that the enemy took more casualties than Roma and her allies, but at the end of the day neither side had made any decisive change to the war. Roman Losses: 300 infantry, 120 cavalry Remaining forcesLegio I Romanum - 3,725 infantry, 180 Cavalry Legio Volsci - 1,925 infantry, 140 cavalry Legio II Romanum - 3,725 infantry, 180 Cavalry Legio Latium - 1,925 infantry, 180 cavalry Roman CharactersAll characters safe and sound; request battle-related events in the Random Events thread if you would like. {math}Cavalry engagement
780 romans vs 400 enemy
12 vs 16
Samnites win
Romans lose 120 equites
Samnites lose 60 equites
characters all fine
battle round 1
11,600 romans vs 7,600 enemy
8 vs 1
Romans win
Romans lose 175
Samnites lose 350
battle round 2
11,425 romans vs 7,250 enemy
12 vs 9
Romans win
Romans lose 75
Samnites lose 150
battle round 3
11,350 romans vs 7,100
14 vs 15
Romans lose
Romans lose 50
Samnites lose 25
end:
11,300 / 7,075
Roman victory
all characters fine
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 17, 2022 7:20:33 GMT -5
Marcellus watched from a vantage point on horseback as the battle progressed, directing himself where necessary to lend his men some morale when they appeared to be faltering. It was perhaps the largest engagement he himself had ever taken part in, and commanding such large quantities of men seemed to be a confusing mess for both sides. But it was clear, to him at least, that the Romans had got the better of this first engagement. Though indecisive, it hopefully freed the way for the Romans to winter safely behind the walls of Capua, which Marcellus would consider a productive way of spending his term in the field. Victories were rarely glorious or decisive, he had come to learn, the final blow often won after some hard years of fighting and preparation.
"Ensure the men are given double rations tonight, Servilius."
Despite the victory, Marcellus did not seem cheery. The sweating consul removed his plumed helmet to survey the field from the safety of the encampment's near most wall.
"I will direct the priests to bury the dead, and take sacrifices. I shall erect a temple to Mars on my return, in thanks for this day."
He continued speaking to his assembled officers without turning.
"At dawn, I shall send riders after the Samnites. It is my intention to winter the troops in Capua to give the next commanders some small advantage in the field for the next season."
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(+1 dignitas for Marcellus and Papirius (minor victory))
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Post by Royal Joker on Jul 17, 2022 11:43:57 GMT -5
Mugillanus almost fell off his horse once he reached the safety inside the Roman camp. His aides immediately jumped forth to help their commander down and offered him diluted wine, which he greedily gulped down. Lucius almost ripped off his helmet and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a fresh breeze caress his wet hair. Despite the pain and tiredness aching his body, he smiled - today had been a good day for battle.
The consul looked on in silence as his horse made their way into camp - he raised his arm and saluted the men, which earned him a few smiles and salutes in return. It had been a hard fight and the damned Samnites had given them a proper scrap and while his plan of destroying the enemy army was still far away, a bloody nose was a good start.
Once he had regained some strength and wits, Consul Mugillanus rose and went to find his colleague. He greeted his consul with a relaxed salute.
"Ave, Claudius Marcellus. Mars and Minerva certainly smile upon us this day. The liberation of Capua is now within our grasp, once the men have rested for the next battle."
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Post by Gandalf on Jul 17, 2022 11:57:19 GMT -5
Claudius saluted in turn, handing his helmet off to a slave to be polished for the march west.
"I agree, we are of one mind. We should liberate the city before the moons turn, for the Senate will soon expect us to return to account for ourselves and hold the next elections."
While not the great strategic coup Marcellus had planned, the battle had gone well enough. He could not fault his colleague's valour in the field.
"On the morrow, we shall ford the river, and march for Capua."
He concluded, evenly.
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Post by Royal Joker on Jul 17, 2022 12:04:34 GMT -5
Mugillanus chuckled and offered Marcellus his wineskin.
"Oh yes, I head almost forgotten about the elections. A damn shame, I would've liked to see this campaign to the end. You don't think we've got time enough to go back to Rome and have the Senate name one of us Dictator?"
The patrician consul chuckled again before continuing.
"Good. Liberating Capua is a good enough prize for this year's campaign. I'll take command of the second legion again and march with you."
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