TSA: 029 - Into The Gryphon’s Den (Patreon)

The Field of Battle

{Excerpt}

The chronicles of the Old Ages oft depicted the cunning and resilience of warlords who, despite devastating setbacks, managed to rally their forces and turn the tides of conflict. 

Among these, Tristan Lormat was not one. 

His relentless pursuit of victory against the Bloody Gryphon stands as a cautionary tale on the dangers of overconfidence. Despite suffering significant losses, the Lion of Khule remained unyielding in his determination to bring the then Earl of Faywyn to his knees. 

Alas, as hindsight tells, it was not meant to be.

...

Excerpt from the illustrated records of the inception of the United Kingdoms - The Wars of the Great Beasts: The Rise of Udoris as a World Power by Dan Scott

{END}

• [04.09.1624]

Tristan Lormat rode slowly through the forest, his eyes lidded in concentration. The stinging embarrassment of Levi's nocturnal ambush still gnawed at his pride even nine days after. His men, though seasoned and resilient, bore the weight of demoralization. They trudged onward, their movements sluggish and their expressions grim. The forest was thick, its underbrush hindering their progress, yet Tristan pressed on, driven by the fire of retribution.

The sun slowly bid its farewells, its absence cloaking the forest in an eerie silence. Tristan’s men, exhausted and wary, began to set up a makeshift camp under the dense canopy. Fires were kept low, their flickering light casting long shadows. Sentinels were posted at the camp’s perimeter, their eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of the enemy. Their foe was a cunning one; it would behove them to be complacent

The Lion sat by a small fire, the flames reflecting in his dark eyes. Captain Aelric approached, a look of concern etched on his weathered face. "The scouts have returned, my lord. They’ve found a more traversable path that leads through the hills to the south. It’s rough terrain, but it will bring us closer to Faywyn without risking another ambush. New of our replacement supplies have also arrived; the baggage train should catch up in two days."

Tristan nodded slowly. "Good. We move at first light. Ensure the men are ready. We shall not falter."

Aelric saluted and turned to relay the orders. Tristan remained by the fire, his thoughts drifting. "You’re clever, pup," he muttered to himself. "But cleverness can only take you so far. Soon enough, we’ll meet on the field of battle, and then we’ll see who truly holds the advantage."

…

Dawn broke, casting a pale light over the forest. Tristan’s men, though weary, moved with a renewed sense of purpose. The scouts led them through the rough terrain of the southern hills, the path winding and treacherous. But the allure of evading the Codfather’s relentless assaults and enacting retribution upon Faywyn spurred them onward.

As they neared the crest of the hills, Tristan allowed himself a moment of cautious optimism. The journey had been arduous, but they were making progress. The distant pillars' smoke, barely visible in the early morning light spoke promises of their destination

Yet, a chilling premonition struck Tristan as they descended into the valley beyond. The land below was too quiet, too still. His eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement but found none.

"Captain," he called, urgency faintly creeping into his voice.

Aelric hurried to his side. "My lord?"

"Something is amiss. Send out scouts ahead. We must ensure we are not walking into another of the Grifenburg’s traps."

Aelric nodded and dispatched the scouts. Tristan’s hand instinctively moved to the hilt of his sword, his senses on high alert. Minutes stretched into an agonizing wait. Finally, one of the scouts returned, breathless and wide-eyed. "My lord! The path ahead is clear, but a fortified enemy position sits in our path just before the road widens into a small clearing."

Tristan’s grip tightened on his sword. "What kind of fortifications?” he asked, a pang of worry forming in his chest. The replacement artillery he ordered would not arrive until another two weeks; As it stood, at least until the artillery arrived, Tristan had no real means to pressure a fortified position other than encircle it and prohibit the movement of traffic in and out of it.

“A layered row of palisades, ditches and abatises, My Lord,” the scout said, much to the duke’s relief. “In that order. Behind them was a chain of wagon forts and what appeared to be another ditch; I managed to get within a hundred paces of the blockade before I was forced to retreat by a volley of arrows.” 

“How many manned this blockade?” Tristan inquired.

“I wasn’t able to linger and investigate, milord, but I do not believe more than a few dozen men lay in our path. As for Calvary, I only laid eyes on a handful of horses; palfreys and packhorses. No coursers.”

“Scout and workhorses only? No warhorses?” 

“Aye, milord. None as far as I could tell.”

Tristan contemplated the matter for another few moments before speaking. “The pup continues in its efforts to delay the inevitable,” he chuffed, amused. “Prepare the men to march on the enemy come morning! We may yet have a real fight on our hands."

“Aye, milord.”

***

The idea that ambushing an army is relatively easy has always been a common misconception. In reality, successfully executing an ambush requires exceptional coordination and the ability to deceive the enemy effectively. On Earth, throughout history, well-executed ambushes have often resulted in spectacular victories, such as the famous Battle of Lake Trasimene during the Second Punic War, where Hannibal's Carthaginian forces decisively defeated the Roman army. Despite these notable successes, however, ambushes were not particularly common due to the complex challenges involved in carrying them out.

One of the primary difficulties in planning and executing an ambush is the need for detailed and accurate reconnaissance. Gathering intelligence on enemy movements, terrain, and timing is crucial for an ambush to succeed. Historically, reconnaissance was one of the most challenging aspects of preparing for battle, and this remained true even into the twentieth century. Effective reconnaissance could significantly tilt the scales in favour of the ambushers, but the process was fraught with difficulties.

In medieval wars, Scouts needed to spread out to gather information, but this dispersal could delay the transmission of vital data to their command elements. By the time a lord or general receives the intelligence, it may already be outdated. Most armies during the time did not even possess specialized intelligence units, leading to the potential for important details to be overlooked or misinterpreted by inexperienced soldiers.

Furthermore, opposing scouts could complicate matters by luring friendly scouts away, engaging them in battle, or remaining hidden to avoid detection. Even when accurate information was obtained, it could be misread by commanders due to cognitive biases. Leaders might interpret intelligence in ways that confirm their preconceptions, ignoring data that contradicts their expectations. Ancient generals were not immune to these biases, which could be reinforced by their social and cultural contexts.

To worsen matters, armies throughout history have often been very large, and any force attempting to ambush such an army needed to be similarly substantial. Coordinating a large force to remain hidden and then execute a surprise attack was a daunting task. The sheer size of these forces made it difficult to keep them concealed from the enemy's scouts and reconnaissance units. Moreover, the movement and positioning of such a force without detection required meticulous planning and execution.

Vanguard forces, which were the advanced units tasked with scouting the path ahead of the main army, could sometimes be hours or even days ahead. This time gap further complicated the execution of an ambush. The ambushing force needed to not only remain hidden from these advanced units but also ensure that they were in a position to strike the enemy's main body at the right moment. Any miscalculation in timing or positioning could result in the ambush being detected and thwarted.

The success of an ambush also depended on the terrain and environmental conditions. Ambushes were more likely to succeed in areas with natural cover, such as forests, mountains, or ravines, where the ambushing force could remain concealed until the opportune moment. However, selecting the right location and ensuring that the ambushing force could move into position without being seen required detailed knowledge of the terrain and careful planning.

However, ambushing an enemy was not a completely hopeless proposition. During a march, armies needed to stop for various reasons, such as foraging, resupplying water, watering animals, or conducting essential activities like road repair and wood cutting. These moments of pause are particularly dangerous and make the soldiers vulnerable as they must separate from the main body and engage in tasks that often require leaving behind their weapons and protections. Hannibal, for example, employed his entire army to gather supplies, but only one-third actively engaged in the process while the rest scouted and guarded the labourers. 

Such vulnerabilities also extended to crossing geographic features like rivers and mountains. Armies can often become predictable in their movements due to logistical necessities and the constraints of the terrain. This predictability arises because armies must follow predetermined routes where resources like water and food are available, or where the geography allows passage. For instance, a general might be aware that at some point, an enemy army will need to gather water, which makes water sources strategic points of interest and potential ambush sites.

Understanding these logistical needs allows the cunning to anticipate the enemy's movements and exploit their predictability. By knowing where an army is likely to be at a given time, based on their need for resources, a commander can set up ambushes or force the enemy into disadvantageous positions. 

A historical example illustrating this strategy is Julius Caesar's campaign in Britain. The Britons, recognizing the Roman army's need for forage, burned the surrounding fields to deprive Caesar's troops of essential supplies. This act of scorched earth warfare forced Caesar to move his army's animals to a specific spot where resources were available. By controlling the availability of resources, the Britons were able to influence Caesar's movements, forcing him into a predictable path.

Another example was during the American Civil War when Union General William Tecumseh Sherman used this strategy during his famous "March to the Sea." By destroying the resources that Confederate armies relied on, Sherman forced them to move predictably towards areas where supplies were still available, thereby controlling their movements and reducing their ability to mount effective resistance.

Levi’s attempt at replicating these feats of genius was not as spectacular, but it still proved highly effective. The destruction of Tristan’s ships and subsequently baggage train, compounded by the Codfather’s near-constant presence on the shoreline had forced the Lion’s host right Levi wanted them. 

Everything was set; the field fortifications were constructed, having benefited from the delays the enemy was forced to endure. The artillery had long been moved into position in the surrounding hills, far away enough that they remain undetected by Tristan’s scouts, but still close and elevated enough to range in on the planned battlefield. The infantry pikemen and the heavy cavalry were both stationed two hundred behind the battle line, also out of sight of the Quiltonians to give the illusion of significantly weaker opposition. A chain of wagon forts stood as the first offensive line, containing a potent force of crossbowmen and musketeers. Sharpshooting bowmen sat in camouflaged treehouses with clear lines of sight of the battlefield.

Everything was set; all that remained was for the Lion to walk right into it.