Lord of the Steppes at the Southern League, Bournemouth 2023
Hunnic vs Timurid
Game 3 Hunnic vs Medieval Hungarian
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The range of armies in the competition was surprisingly wide - we had supposed that everyone would pretty much pick League of Augsburg Anglo-Dutch (for its large number of superior all-shot units) or the Louis XIV Frenchies (for their pretty uniforms and general all round joie de vivre) however some surprising entrants distrubed the array of French and Dutch. Austrians clearly had something going for them, and the Ottoman army looked like an interesting choice too - both would no doubt feature lots of good quality armoured cavalry, a good choice against the generally weak mounted options available to most armies in the later book of lists
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The lists for the Hunnic and Timurid from this game, as well as all the other lists from the games at Southern_League_Bournemouth can be seen here in the L'Art de la Guerre Wiki.
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What's Going on Here Then?
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At the helm of the tempest, the horse warriors ride with a synchronicity that borders on the supernatural, their movements a testament to a lifetime spent in communion with their steeds.
Arrows, like vengeful spirits, streak through the air with a swiftness that defies mortal comprehension, leaving a wake of despair.
Fear dances in the eyes of the enemy as the relentless rain of arrows turns the battlefield into a harrowing tableau of suffering.
The horse warriors' unkempt appearance and unique aroma become a signature aspect of the battlefield, a sensory experience that lingers long after the clash of arms subsides.
Each release of the bowstring is a proclamation of impending doom, a symphony of doom-laden notes played by the archer's hands.
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A relentless tempest of arrows darkens the sky, blotting out the sun and plunging the battlefield into a surreal twilight of agony.
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Like shadows in a fevered dream, Hunnic horse warriors materialize from the dust, galloping into the heart of the enemy's cavalry formations.
The Hunnic horse archers move like wraiths, disappearing and reappearing amidst the chaos, leaving only the sting of their arrows as evidence of their passage.
With each stride, the warriors demonstrate an unspoken pact with their mounts, a union of speed and instinct that defines the essence of Hunnic cavalry.
Hapless foes are ensnared in a deadly dance, caught between the relentless gallop of hooves and the relentless rain of Hunnic fury.
As they ride into the sunset, victorious or otherwise, the horsemen carry with them not only the spoils of war but also the unmistakable fragrance of fermented cheese, a scent that becomes a badge of honor.
The ground, once firm, becomes a quagmire of fallen bodies, an unyielding testament to the devastation wrought by the archers' lethal artistry.
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Attila's warriors ride with an unquenchable hunger for conquest, their arrows sowing seeds of desolation in the hearts of those who dare oppose them.
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Spears thrust forward, a deadly dance of lethal intent unfolds as the Hunnic horsemen skewer their foes with the merciless accuracy of hunting falcons.
The Result is a ...............
Click here for the report of the next game in this competition, or read on for the post match summaries from the Generals involved, as well as another episode of legendary expert analysis from Hannibal
Post Match Summary from the Hunnic Commander
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Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
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Click here for the report of the next game in this competition
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