Hot Lead 2011 - Battle Four

And so to the final game of the day.
Before the event I had confided to my regular opponent that what I most feared facing in the An Heroic Example scenario was a tooled up Norman Lord. On a Warhorse.
So it was inevitable that my final game would have Normans as my opponents.
Still, at least I wouldn’t have any warbands with their pesky “autobreak” to worry about.
What’s that you say? First what? Oh, First Charge. How’s that work then...?

After my more forthright adventures in Snowdonia in the previous round I reverted to the horseshoe formation with the Kamel Korps on the left and my horse on the right. Carl had massed his Mounted Scary Dudes (I think that’s how they’re listed in the Shieldwall book) on his right. Meat and drink to the Kamel Korps I shouldn’t wonder.

 Phew, at least they're not warbands!

 Slow 'em down, fellas

However before we could find that out there was the small matter of Abd Inuff getting run over by the Early Medieval equivalent of a dump truck. On a warhorse.

So with the sound of Mrs Inuff’s (Abd’s mum) lamentations ringing in our ears the battle could begin. On the left the Kamel Korps managed to get a charge off against some Milites. They counter charged and the resulting overrun saw them crash into some Berbers, but at least the dreaded First Charge was now blown.

 Crunch. Stab. Die.

Sadly they still possessed sufficient Gallic flair to be able to finish off the spearmen in short order.
To the right the Berber horse narrowly lost to some light horse, but the curse of Abd Inuff’s early demise (“Give it a rest Mrs Inuff!”) meant they promptly failed the test ran off and were cut down.

  No, I can't tell the difference between these two shots, either.

Over in the centre the Black Guard too discovered exactly how and why charging knights transformed Dark Age warfare leaving but a single unit of Berbers to be chased into a wood and slaughtered.

 Ibn Coldir v Dux. On a warhorse

 Note large Ibn Coldir shaped space in front of Dux

Surrounded!

All in all not my best game. I threw my troops forward with a casual disregard for their worthless metallic lives and played right into Carl’s hands. I was also a bit on the back foot as soon as the initial challenge went against me, -1Ld is a big penalty on an army whose general is only Ld8. Nevertheless a thoroughly pleasant and entertaining way to pass ninety or so minutes, and Carl was a charming and jolly opponent.

With the four games over there was the usual wrap-up. Despite not winning a single game I’d not coughed up enough VP’s to challenge for Wooden Spoon.
(Did I ever tell you about the time I came last in a Viking Event? They gave me the Woden Spoon.)
And nor had I won either best general or best painted army (I can dream can't I?). I had also given five pounds to charity in exchange for five dice that behaved as expected and failed to win me a single thing from Lord S’s sack of goodies.

So four losses, no prizes and a long journey home to look forward to, and yet I’d had another splendid day out. So unlike Orwell I wasn’t going home bitter and disillusioned, I was going home positive and happy with my hobby. Oh to try and explain to my wife that yes, I really needed some more soldiers, and no they weren’t really that expensive and yes I would paint these ones and no they wouldn't just be going in a box in the loft and...