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Post by Gandalf on May 14, 2023 10:01:37 GMT -5
Robert Baratheon finds himself a few leagues east of the walled town of Tumbleton, just south of the foothills from which the Mander flows southward towards Highgarden and Oldtown.
Randyll Tarly arrives from the south, having come from the Grassy Vale. Between the two armies lies a flat open plain, with a series of smaller hills close to Robert on the north side.
As Tarly arrives, he comes with a morning fog as thick as peat. No man can see more than a dozen paces in front of him. The two armies are dimly aware of each other’s presence, but at present cannot be certain.
As chooser of the site of battle, Robert holds the initiative, and may take up the position he wishes.
(Orders and position please Robert)
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Post by Gandalf on May 14, 2023 12:01:09 GMT -5
Tarly’s outriders return to report the existence of an encampment to their north, or at least a gathering of men as evidenced by large plumes of smoke. They surmise that Baratheon’s army is encamped here, and do not believe that they were spotted by sentries. However, the thick fog means they did not get a confirmed sighting, and they did not wish to draw too close lest they run right into the rebel army. The number of fires suggested it was a large force, though with no clear estimate of numbers.
(Tarly, I need your orders and any actions)
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Post by Royal Joker on May 14, 2023 14:05:32 GMT -5
Damnable fog, Randyll Tarly thought to himself while lifting his visor. He had finally caught up with the Baratheon banners and the gods had cursed him with this heavy fog. He did not like it - knowledge of the battlefield was essential to victory. It would be hard to keep a good overview even of his own army, let alone the rebels. For all he knew, it could be an ambush or a false camp meant to buy time for the young Baratheon to escape to his allies. Yet Randyll had to move, that was his duty. First in Battle - it meant everything. He lowered his visor and unsheathed Heartsbane. {Tarlys Host orders}Tarly's host:
2,000 Heavy Horse
2,000 Light Horse
12,000 Foot
4,000 Archers
Tarly splits his Foot into three columns, left, center and right. Each is arranged in two lines, 2,000 front and 2,000 in reserve.
The archers are split in two columns (2,000 each), with each column on the flanks of the main line.
The light horse are split in two (1,000 each) and put in front of the archers on the flanks.
The heavy horse, led by Randyll Tarly, is kept in reserve behind the center column.
Orders:
1. The entire army marches forward towards the enemy camp. The light horse on the flanks are ordered to screen for potential ambushers on the flanks and report back, but are not allowed to engage in battle.
2. Once in contact, the front infantry engage in melee while the reserve stay put. The archers on the flanks are allowed to fire at will, while the light horse protect them from flanking maneuvers.
3. If the frontline of the infantry are struggling, the footmen kept in reserve are to reinforce the main battle line. If the front is winning, the reserve are ordered to flank the enemy.
4. The heavy horse led by Lord Tarly will go around the left flank and charge the rebel camp from behind.
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Post by Gandalf on May 14, 2023 16:14:29 GMT -5
Tarly's men make their advance to the sound of warhorns and trumpets. On their approach, however, they meet no resistance. It appears that the encampment was bait. They now hear the sound of horses hooves coming to their north.
Men appear holding aloft banners of stags, swans, crows and stars. They clatter with a roar into the Reachman line. In the fog, it is difficult to tell friend from foe. The battle descends into a chaotic melee across a ragged line that moves and shifts with no real cohesion.
Tarly, however, completely loses his bearings in the fog. As Robert charges down from the Baratheon position on the right of the foothills, his own line is thrown into chaos by the sudden emergence of the Tyrell cavalry. Both sides are caught completely by surprise. Tarly himself roars in pain as a lance pierces between the folds in his breastplate, breaking through mail and leather to rip flesh. Fortunately for Tarly, a loyal bannerman cuts the knight down, and the Lord of Horn Hill is able to find some respite.
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Post by Royal Joker on May 14, 2023 16:40:30 GMT -5
Randyll roars in pain as the lance is lodged in his side. His sworn knights quickly form a wall around their liege. With finally some room to breathe, Tarly tries to get his bearings on the battlefield. Only one word could describe the carnage around him - chaos. The fog and dust makes it impossible to see even a few feet ahead of you, while the sound of screams and clashing steel would make the best tracker deaf.
He breathes through gritted teeth and looks down at his wound. He's still breathing and the heat of battle is keeping the pain dulled... for now. Randyll looks around for banners, where is the black stag on yellow? Even wounded, his mind is working to find a solution to the chaos around him, to find victory. Retreat would lead to slaughter, and there's no saying who is currently winning. Tarly can still win this. He just needs to find the stag and deliver the decisive blow.
"Baratheon! Find the stag, men! For Highgarden, for Horn Hill!"
Tarly raises Heartsbane to rally his men.
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Post by oznerol on May 14, 2023 17:36:21 GMT -5
The battle turned into a standstill. The men of the Reach were well-armed and numerous. But that would not stay, he could still claim his prize. Tarly was the most formidable commander Tyrell had, for he was a man of a reputation, and quite a reputation. Baratheon raised himself on the stirrups. He saw a column of riders, clad in glittering mail. There was a huntsman on the helm.
"To me! The huntsman wants to kill a stag! But stags are not easy prey for puny men! Onwards!"
And Robert lowered his visor and charged alongside his retainers and he laughed as he rode, like his many ancestors once did.
"Tarly's head is mine, slaughter the rest"
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Post by Gandalf on May 14, 2023 18:23:18 GMT -5
The battle unfolded as utter chaos up and down the lines, none more so than on the Tarly left, where two separate melees raged between Reachmen and Stormlander.
Lord Robert himself would face against Lord Tarly in combat; the wound the Reachlord had sustained earlier significantly hampered him, and against the better advice of his bannermen he rode headlong at the Stormlord to cut the head off the snake. For a time, they clashed on horseback, Heartsbane ringing against the great warhammer that Baratheon favoured as his instrument of death. Despite his injured side, he proved an admirable foe, giving Robert a scar or two to remember him by. Both men were panting and bleeding, close to exhaustion.
But the wound that Tarly had sustained would tell. His side screamed in agony as he missed a beat, and the warhammer crushed several ribs as it struck home, knocking the lord of Horn Hill flying from his horse to land crumpled in the dirt. But Baratheon had little time to savour his victory. All around him, men dropped like flies, though he could not tell if they were running or dying.
Robert had a choice. Close in for the kill on Tarly, or be cut off with little chance of survival. He had no idea where the rest of his men were; no man knew who had yet won the day.
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Post by Gandalf on May 15, 2023 8:21:18 GMT -5
With a curse upon his lips, Robert falls back, rallying the men around him to keep some semblance of order as they pulled away into the mist. Runners sent across the line found that Lord Estermont had carried his banner all the way into the Tyrell encampment. Tarth’s fortunes were decidedly worse, and his men were only found some hours later when the fog had finally cleared. They had broke and ran north, unable to find their lord and unaware of the state of the battle. Tarth himself reappeared in similar fashion, looking abashed.
Fortunately, the Reachmen experienced a similar loss of cohesion, and were unable to capitalise on their victory by organising an effective pursuit. Their forces encamp outside Tumbleton. Lord Tarly was gravely wounded, though the timely intervention of Lord Footly’s maester certainly saved his life, it is not certain whether to the Lord of Horn Hill will walk or fight again; his left leg was completely crushed under his body during the fall. He will likely be crippled for life, if he survives the fever that grips him night and day in a cold sweat.
Though defeated, Robert’s forces remain intact. News will soon travel up the Roseroad of the battle, however. He must fight, or move.
Casualties (to be split by proportion of soldiers)
1045 Stormlanders
- 104 Knights
- 105 Light Horse
- 209 Archers
- 627 Foot
786 Reachmen
- 78 Knights
- 79 Light Horse
- 157 Archers
- 471 Foot
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Post by Royal Joker on May 15, 2023 15:52:45 GMT -5
Randyll Tarly was barely aware of the events unfolding after Robert struck him from his horse. His world was pain and delirium - one moment he saw his lord father silently judge him, another moment the Stranger reached out their hand to grab him. Something cool touched his forehead and a drink was forced down his throat. The world suddenly became dull and painless as he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke again his body was both burning and freezing from within. Someone tried to talk to him but he know not who. He lay in a tent and some stranger in robes and chains tended to his wounds, pains and other needs. His mind was unable to remember anything before he slumbered again, rolling back and forth in consciousness day and night.
A son, Randyll thought in one of his less delirious moments. A son, a son, a son. He could not leave this world before he had fathered a strong and courageous Tarly son. To Seven Hells with you, he told the Stranger watching over him, you will not have me before I have had a son.
Randyll drifted off to sleep again as the maester replaced the wound dressings on his mangled leg and broken ribs.
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Post by Gandalf on May 15, 2023 17:51:38 GMT -5
Tyrell arrived a few days after the carnage. Mace had never seen a battle himself, having only been a boy when the Ninepenny Kings ravaged the Stepstones and the last Blackfyre pretender fell. The sight of the piled corpses unsettled him, as did the sheer mass of holes being dug to accommodate their rest beneath the earth. So much death, and they said that both armies had barely been bloodied judging by the count of the dead. He muttered a quick prayer for the fallen as he rode beneath the gates of Tumbleton. Bannermen saluted him for his victory; Caswell, Fossoway, and Ashford all offering congratulations and assurances that the rebellion would soon be over.
He visited Tarly during his stay in Tumbleton, though he doubted the man remembered. Lord Randyll had been near delirious from the Poppy’s Milk, murmuring something about a son that befuddled him. He did not recall Tarly having any children, and pondered for some time afterwards if the man was hiding a bastard somewhere. Randyll Tarly did not seem the type to dishonour himself so.
Mace was so much lost in thought that he barely noticed the news that Robert had escaped northwards. No danger there, at least, so far from his base of power. Mace allowed himself a smirk. He would let it be known that Robert had been defeated in battle by the might of House Tyrell. A shame that he had missed on the glory himself, but the greatest commanders were ever known from orchestrating their victories from afar.
The assembled bannermen quietened as Mace raised a hand. ”My Lords, we shall crush this rebellion once and for all. Let us return the Stormlands to the King’s peace, and unseat the vile traitor from his seat while he runs like a whipped cur away from our power.” They began banging their fists on the table in unison, and he swelled with pride at their roars and cheers.
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