Hannibal, son of Hamilcar - A Rome II Total War Carthaginian AAR

[JasonPratt]

Yep, that's how I used to do it in Rome 1 (never played Medi2 enough to get a feel for how best to run the tacticals). I'm not sure why I almost never had to do it in Sho1 or Medi1, though -- probably the unit speed factor, because even with only a few companies I felt like I had to do it in Rom1 (and Medi2 for my little playtime), whereas I only had to do that with large armies in the first two games.

I've noticed the Reynold Sanity reviewer, even in the first review, and moreso in the second, mostly complains about changes from previous games. He complains about other things too, but a lot of his complaints are along the lines of "Didn't Empire do that better? Seriously? EMPIRE?!?" -- and then demonstrating with experimental video. (He talks more in the second video about why Sho2's strategy game is vastly superior to Rom2, and even Rom1, Medi2 and Empire before Nap, although by the nature of the topical thrust I still haven't seen any way the tactical battles were better in Shogun. Except for the artillery making more sense in Sho2, he did show some demonstrations there, come to think of it.)

[JasonPratt]

A theory just occurred to me: the strategy game in Shogun (any version) works so well because it was ripped directly off from based on a classic strategy board game (one that I've seen rank high in lists of all-time great board games); one I used to own myself back in high school when my brother and I played such games, so I can easily recognize the features when I see them in TW games.

And the closer any TW stays to that model, insofar as its features are based on that model and designed to complement that model, the better the strategy game not only becomes, but the tactical game, too (insofar as the strategy level affects what can and does happen at the tactical level).

[JoyzLife]

This still Active?

[undercovergeek]

it is indeed - therell be an update tonight - thanks for reading

[JoyzLife]

That was quick I was expecting to be waiting until tommorow at least!

Keep up the good work!

[undercovergeek]

With the sun setting over the roof tops of the city, it was my favourite time to walk from the port back to my quarters after having conducted some trade business for my Lord. The white walls of the homesteads turned a warm pink, the heat of the sun dissipating, and the streets were less busy, small children playing outside their homes, the women of the city going about their chores, the population worry free under the umbrella of safety provided by Hanno.

I stepped into the shade of my doorway only to hear the sound of busy footsteps above me in my living quarters.

'Hello?'

The footsteps did not stop, but at least they advanced to the top of the stairwell. Two soldiers were coming down the stairs, one carrying my pots, colours and inks, all bundled up in cloth. The other was carrying my bedroll, and some of my clothes.

'Ah, scribe,' said the first soldier from behind my ink pots 'i hope you like sand'

'Sand? Why? Why should I like sand'

'and elephants. Sand and elephants' said the second soldier

'Ele.... what? Why? Where are you going with my things?'

'Orders from Krastus scribe, you're going on a journey, it will be vast', continued the second soldier

'and sandy..... with elephants' said the first.

'But... wait, stop, hold there!'

The two soldiers bundled past me, my sad collection of belongings scooped up in both their arms, and they set off toward the south of the city. I set off after them.

'Where am i going? What is this all about? Does my Lord know you're taking me?'

My questions continued to wash against the impassive back of the soldier in front of me. No mention of my Lord, my status, or my intention to stop immediately and simply return to my home made any difference, they simply continued to march silently to the city limits with me hopping and jogging to keep up behind them. In the distance was the Mago gate, the southern exit from the city where trade with the Libyans and the desert tribes came into Carthage. The more the two soldiers marched, the more this looked like our destination.

'Now look here, I've had enough of thi.....................', the words died in my mouth. In formation, maybe half a mile beyond the gate stood Dido's Faithful. Swollen by recently recruited mercenaries and new companies raised in the muster fields, four thousand men stood to attention in the cool early evening. Corraled beside them one hundred horses, for what purpose I did not know, and beyond them the elephants of Hannibal's personal bodyguard unit. Tents were set up towards the front of the lines, proud pennants of each company commander atop them, fluttering in the breeze. It was a magnificent sight, the power and majesty of Carthage's first army ready to go to war, surely no foe could stand before a force like this. My two escorts continued to march toward the army lines, my questions muted.

After awhile we reached the tent area. The soldiers unceremoniously dropped my things by the entrance to a large tent, the pennant on top light blue with a golden elephant with two stars underneath it displayed, the insignia of General Hannibal. The second soldier remained outside the tent, the first quickly lifted the flap and disappeared inside. The flap was soon pulled aside once more and the imposing figure of Krastus stepped out of the shadows within.

'Little scribe! I'm glad you're here, camp is about to break and we march this evening while its cool. General Hannibal is inspecting the last of the mercenaries, murderous crowd of bastards they are, and we'll be away'

'Why am I here Captain? I don't understand'

'The great and glorious Hanno, Baal praise him, has decided that you would be better served writing about his great deeds from atop the General's elephant. Get a bit more perspective and see some real action, Little Scribe.'

'I... but.... what? I'm no soldier, no warrior, what can I do?'

'You will sit next to the General and witness the coming of a new age. History will be made from this day forward and you will be there to set it down, so that thousands of years from now people will read your story of Carthage, Hannibal, Hanno the Great, and the handsome, undefeatable, pleasurer of women Captain Krastus'

[MetalDog]

Thanks for writing me into the narrative, geek.  I've never been a Captain before :)

[undercovergeek]

Thanks for writing me into the narrative, geek.  I've never been a Captain before :)

Lmao well played MD - I had to have a re-read to see where you were, found you right at the end!

[MetalDog]

Good thing it was only three pages then, eh geek? ;)

[undercovergeek]

Good thing it was only three pages then, eh geek? ;)

im going as fast as i can  :P

[MetalDog]

No hurry.  I just post'em and put a little explanantion on'em.  You write a whole story.  Much appreciated and enjoyed :)

[undercovergeek]

The silence went on and on. After so much noise and chaos, the absence of it now made him think he had gone deaf. It was the sound of the camel next to him that broke the silence, an odd noise with an enquiring tone, almost like it had just asked him if it was over.

'I think so my old friend, i think so', Fezzan patted the camels neck affectionately.

He rolled back the rock from the cave entrance, a flurry of sand poured on him as the gap widened. He spat and brushed the sand from his face, blinking at the sunlight. The storm was raging off to the west, a wall of blackness heading towards his home of Garamantia, but there was nothing he could do about that now. The camel slowly emerged from the cave, smelling the air and blinking like Fezzan. They had stopped at the oasis of Wadi al-Ajal, to rest and top up on water, both man and camel. They had been tracking the Carthaginian army for weeks now, scouting for the main body of the Garamantian army, down the coast from Carthage itself towards the Libyan provinces of Thapsus and on towards Lepcis when the skies blackened. With no notice at all the storm came out of the desert and swept over the oasis and stretched out toward the coast where the enemy army was. In the increasing blackness and deafening roar of the wind Fezzan had seen the small outcrop of rocks and sprinted toward them before the sand scoured the flesh from his bones.

Still spitting sand out of his mouth and brushing it from his hair he made his way back down towards the small oasis. His throat felt like parchment after sitting in the cave for a day, a night and most of the next day listening to the wind and sand batter against the rocks. He knelt by the side of the pool and allowed himself to fall in face first, he gasped at the impact of the water and drank deeply, frantically rubbing his hair with his hands, and rinsing the sand from ears and nose. He rose, water cascading down his face and chest, to his right the camel drank quietly and slowly and Fezzan chuckled at the animal's dignity compared to his own. Refreshed and clean Fezzan puffed out his cheeks and slowly exhaled, looking around him at the detritus and flotsam the storm had blown before it, tangled now in trees, bushes, wrapped around trunks and flapping in the palm tops.

The nearest litter to him was a cylindrical leather case, half buried in the sand. As long as his arm, with a strap for carrying over a man's shoulder it was obviously a case for parchments or maps of some kind. He undid the ribbon around the top of the case and upended it, several drawings and documents slid out onto the sand. He looked around, he doubted there would be any sign of the Carthaginians, they would have headed into cover just as he had. The camel was still slowly filling itself with water, long gurgling sounds like a barrel filling up eminating from somewhere inside the beast. He picked up the first of the documents, it was a letter written in a language he couldn't comprehend, as all men do, he scoured the page of strange symbols and script to see if there were any words he recongnised..............

'My dearest Samina,

I am on a wonderful and unbelievable journey of glory and dreams! My Lord has chosen me to accompany the army of Carthage, to ride with Hannibal Barca and his men and to record the great victories of Hanno and Carthage!

We left about three months ago and marched South into the desert. Ahh the desert, so beautiful but so dangerous Samina, unbearably hot during the day, and freezing cold during the night. The army marches between dusk and dawn, I ride on an elephant! A huge beast with a platform on his back. I ride there with Krastus, the captain of Hannibal's army, he has taught me about the different formations of the army, the seperate companies and the tactics that Hannibal employs on the battlefield so I better understand the terminology to help record the glorious days of Dido's Faithful.

The battlefield, Samina. The battlefield is not as glorious as history tells us, it is not a place of heroic poetry and fine deeds. It is a shocking, haunting bloodbath of death and pain, afterwards the streams and rivers run red, men scream in pain and agony and women and children cry in the streets. I was there at the battle of Thapsus and i have witnessed the slaughter of men in the midst of the desert. Carthage is on a great path to glory and I am here to accompany her but it is a long and horrible path my love. I will not see things the same as I once did, I will be a changed man when we are together again. I will write when I can

Your love,

Gisco'

Fezzan could make nothing of it, there were no words or symbols he recognised. He put the letter to one side and unrolled the next parchment. It was a magnificent drawing coloured with inks -

Underneath the drawing were more words he did not recognise, 'As we approach Thapsus, Hannibal orders the cavalry javelin men to harry the front line of the Libyan's defence. They are ideally suited to this task, they can throw hundreds of spears into the midst of the enemy and quickly retreat if the enemy counter attacks'.

Fezzan raised his eyebrows at the next drawing, the artist had captured the chaos of melee battle perfectly, and studying the helmets and shield designs Fezzan began to suspect these were pictures of the Carthaginians at war. The odd script lay beneath the picture again,

With the front lines cowering or dead, Hannibal orders the spearmen to attack. The defenders have two choices - defend themselves from the javelins and be killed by infantry spears, or defend themselves from the infantry and be killed by flying javelins. What a choice for our enemies to make!

Fezzan's suspicion was confirmed with the next picture. These were pictures of the Carthaginian army, the artist had captured the charge of Carthaginian elephants into the enemy lines, and with a sense of recognition he realised this was Thapsus he was looking at. He had witnessed this battle! He had seen the smoke from the battle from two miles away as he shadowed the enemy to report on their movements, and now here it was depicted in artwork, why? Who would do this?

With the enemy softened and their flanks turned to defend against our infantry, Krastus orders the elephants to charge into the undefended sides of our enemy

Fezzan had given up trying to decipher the words underneath the pictures and instead studied the artwork. Here was intelligence on the enemy that his General would appreciate for the attack on the Carthaginians.

With the morale of the enemy broken Hannibal throws the mounted javelinmen back into the battle to run down the retreating enemy

Fezzan grimaced at the next picture, clearly capturing the fall of Thapsus and a victory for Carthage.

[Martok]

I reallyi do enjoy your little narrative "tricks", geek.  Very clever!