The Year 1106 at Devizes 2026
Christian Nubian vs Berber
Game 1 Christian Nubian vs Ghaznavid
Game 2 Christian Nubian vs Berber
Game 3 Christian Nubian vs Tuareg
Game 4 Christian Nubian vs Ghaznavid
Game 5 Christian Nubian vs Komnenan Byzantine
Game 2 and the Nubians, newly minted in their plastic cameltasticness, were sitting pretty on a 100% win rate in their one game so far.
The reward for this success was a matchup against another North African foe - this time The Berbers
The Berber army in ADLG is a flexible, resilient force built around solid spear formations, nimble light troops, and opportunistic cavalry. Its strengths lie in defensive stability, effective terrain use, and the ability to frustrate enemy charges while counter‑punching with mobile elements.
The army was made up of the following core segments
Berber armies excel when anchoring their line on terrain, forcing opponents to attack into well‑prepared spear formations while their light troops disrupt and delay enemy manoeuvres.
Their combination of defensive solidity and mobile harassment makes them difficult to break quickly, allowing them to dictate tempo and punish over‑extended or poorly coordinated enemy assaults.
I'd used Berbers myself a good number of years ago in Alicante, with considerable success, but there were many ways to build a Berber list, and I knew that mine was rather unusual, so I didn't expect to see anything particularly similar across the table in this game - and indeed that is what happened.
The lists for the Christian Nubian and Berber from this game, as well as all the other lists from the games at Devizes can be seen here in the ADLG Wiki.
The battlefield arrayed before the Christian Nubians and their Berber foes was a chaotic tapestry of awkward terrain — marshes, forests, rises, and ploughed fields scattered about as if the gods themselves had been playing dice with the landscape.
The Berbers, delighted by this mess, nestled their wall of spearmen into a snug defensive position with both flanks safely tucked in.
The Nubians, undeterred, deployed their camel wings wide and gathered their warrior infantry in the centre, eager to hurl themselves at the Berber spear‑wall like righteous thunder.
The Berbers & The Islamic Conquest of North Africa
The Beja commander, however, surveyed his assigned position with the enthusiasm of a man asked to clean a latrine. He refused to budge, his camels standing motionless and unimpressed.
Perhaps he awaited divine inspiration. Perhaps he awaited a better contract. Perhaps he simply disliked the view?
Or, juyst maybe, he was listening to the latest Beja Camel-inspired pop tune on his iPhone ?
Beja Think Your Camels are Hot Like Mine?
On the opposite flank, the Nubian camelry burst into action
The foul-smelling Cameleers rushed forward, instantly chasing off a tiny contingent of Berber light horsemen who fled with such speed and panic that one might have assumed they had seen the Archangel Michael himself descending with a flaming sword.
The Berbers advanced their spearmen cautiously, attempting to form a solid line between a marsh and a forest.
Yet their path was blocked by a humble rise in the ground — a farmer’s ploughed field, its furrows ready to disrupt any formation foolish enough to march across it. The Berber commanders frowned, realising that even agriculture had turned against them.
The Nubian infantry, meanwhile, were taking their time.
Perhaps they were admiring the scenery.
Perhaps they were discussing theology.
Whatever the cause, they were slow to form up. Seeing this lethargy, the Berbers boldly advanced half their spear line toward the idle Beja — a move that instantly convinced the Beja commander that, actually, yes, he would join the battle after all.
With the Berber light horse now hiding in a forest and posing no threat whatsoever, the Nubian commanders allowed their camels to graze peacefully while they focused entirely on whipping their infantry into shape for the coming clash with the Berber spear‑wall.
The Beja continued to wait, uncertain whether to commit or continue sulking.
Nubian cavalry, more proactive, moved up to harass the Berber archers who were brigaded with the spearmen, peppering them with javelins and insults in equal measure.
Across the field, a great line of battle was forming — two armies bracing for a decisive collision.
The question hung in the air like desert heat: would the Nubian infantry, once they finally finished organising themselves, sweep away the Berber spearmen with their furious charge?
With little else to occupy them, the Beja camels began pestering their commander for permission to attack the end of the Berber spear line.
Javelin fire from Nubian cavalry had already disrupted the spearmen there, making it the least terrifying part of the enemy formation. The camels, eager for glory or mischief, begged to be unleashed.
Rules hint - Impetuous Camels and Cavalry may well be headstrong bloodthirsty nutters prone to charge into combat at the drop of a hat.. but in ADLG they are not "entirely" stupid. As such, they are not obliged to charge into a number of opponents against whom they would almost certainly get pasted - and this includes "steady" Heavy Infantry formations.
Unfortunately for the Beja, their Nubian paymasters had contrived to shoot up one of this lengthy line of Berber spearmen - making him, and him alone a viable target for the Beja cameleers, who presumably now persuaded themselves they could easily beat him and ride on to glory - despite the maths suggesting that Disordered Supported Heavy Spear with overlaps are still close to the worst opponent imaginable for an Impetuous Medium Camel.
The upshot of all of this was that by doing one shooting hit on these spearmen, the Nubians had condemmed the Beja commander to henceforth require spending 3 pips every turn to stop at least one of his cameleers from charging to their likely doom!
At last, the full contingent of Nubian foot warriors stood ready — shields locked, spears braced, hearts aflame.
They prepared to unleash righteous fury upon the Berbers’ second‑rate spear line, which looked increasingly nervous as the Nubians roared their battle chants.
The Berbers formed two defensive lines, braced and ready to receive the combined Nubian and Beja assault.
The Nubians and Beja, now fully committed, were more than happy to oblige, advancing with the confidence of men who believed the saints were watching.
Almost the entire Nubian infantry line surged forward in a heroic, unified charge.
Only one detachment peeled off, sent to attack the Berber archers who formed the hinge of their line — a hinge that was about to snap under Nubian pressure.
The Beja, meanwhile, had been steadily reducing their own numbers through a series of over‑confident, penny‑packet charges against the solid Berber spear line.
Their camel corps dwindled rapidly, victims of enthusiasm unaccompanied by tactical wisdom.
Berber History
The Nubian infantry, however, delivered magnificently.
They smashed through the Berbers’ second‑rate spearmen with brutal efficiency, sweeping away many of their archers in a brief but explosive moment of ferocity that left the Berber centre in ruins.
The Berber spear line split apart, torn open by the Nubian assault.
Through the gaping hole poured the Nubian warriors, shouting triumphantly as they surged into the heart of the Berber formation.
With victory blooming across the centre, Nubian archers advanced as a reserve to contest the ploughed hill.
The terrain, once a nuisance, now worked in their favour, deterring a contingent of Christian Knights hired by the Berbers from charging uphill into the waiting Nubian bows.
The last surviving Beja camel — heroic, foolish, and probably very tired — charged alone into the relaxed Berber spear line, achieving nothing except a brief moment of comedic glory.
The Nubian infantry finished off the remaining Berber spearmen and surged toward the Berber baggage camp, eager for loot and celebration.
Half the Berber army had been swept away, and despite the camel corps doing very little and the Beja frittering away their forces in futile charges, the Nubians had achieved a resounding and glorious victory.
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 Christian Nubian Commander
Warriors of Makuria! Beja allies! Camels who participated, camels who pretended to participate, and camels who merely stood around looking holy — gather close and hear the words of your victorious commander, chosen of Christ, favourite of saints, and scourge of Berber spear‑walls.
Today, the Lord Himself rearranged the terrain for our benefit. Marshes, forests, ploughed fields — all placed there by divine hands to confuse the Berbers and to make me look even more brilliant than usual. Saint Moses the Black whispered, “Give them awkward ground,” and behold, the battlefield became a theological obstacle course.
The Berbers hid behind their spears, forming a wall so stiff and humourless that even Saint Anthony of the Desert would have told them to lighten up. Yet we, guided by Christ’s radiant wisdom (and my own tactical genius, which is frankly indistinguishable from divine revelation), swept upon them like a holy sandstorm.
Let us speak plainly: the Beja did not exactly cover themselves in glory. Their commander spent half the battle sulking, the other half charging in penny‑packets like a man trying to buy victory with loose change. But fear not — for the Lord works in mysterious ways, and apparently one of those ways is “letting the Nubians win despite their allies.”
When the Berber light horse fled, it was not merely fear — it was Saint Cyprian of Carthage appearing in the clouds, shouting, “Run, you fools!” When the Berber spearmen tried to form a line, Saint Samuel the Confessor nudged the ploughed field into their path, saying, “Let’s see how they handle agriculture.”
And when our Nubian infantry finally decided to stop admiring the scenery and actually advance, the heavens shook with anticipation. Saint Michael, patron of warriors, leaned forward on his celestial spear and said, “Now this is going to be good.”
Our charge was magnificent — a thunderous, righteous, saint‑approved avalanche of Nubian fury. The Berber spear line, once proud, now resembled a broken fence after a herd of holy elephants has danced through it. Their archers fled, their formation shattered, their morale evaporated faster than wine at a monastery feast.
Even the ploughed hill bowed to us, offering itself as a sanctuary for our archers. The Christian Knights hired by the Berbers looked up the slope, saw the terrain, saw the Nubians, saw the saints hovering overhead, and decided that charging uphill into divine wrath was not on their to‑do list today.
And yes, let us honour the last Beja camel — that heroic, foolish, saint‑blessed creature who charged alone into the Berber line. He achieved nothing, accomplished nothing, survived nothing, but by the grace of Christ he looked magnificent doing it.
Now behold the field: half the Berber army swept away, their spear‑wall shattered, their baggage camp trembling before our righteous hunger for loot. And all this achieved while our camel corps mostly grazed and the Beja mostly self‑destructed. Truly, this is proof that the Lord loves Nubia more than He loves sensible military behaviour.
Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
Hearken, ye desert-dwellers, camel-cuddlers, and worshippers of future sky‑spirits! I, Hannibal the Nasty — master of elephants, tormentor of Romans, and inventor of at least seven new categories of insult — do now cast my baleful gaze upon the Nubian king’s latest “victory.” Verily, it was a triumph so simple that even a half‑asleep Carthaginian stable boy could have managed it whilst brushing a mule.
Thou, O Nubian monarch of muddled mind, didst confess to wasting thine own camels — a rare moment of honesty from a man who usually blames his mistakes on divine intervention. Yet thou didst conveniently forget to mention the true comedy of errors: the Beja allies, those camel‑squandering simpletons, who frittered away their entire force in penny‑packet charges. And why? Because one lucky javelin strike tickled a Berber spear unit, giving the Beja the confidence of drunken acrobats. A single shot! One! And suddenly they believed themselves blessed by thy peculiar future god. By Baal’s burning eyebrows, I have seen chickens make better strategic decisions.
And thou, O Nubian king, didst fail to mention this blunder in thy own speech — a sin of omission so vast it could be seen from Carthage. The Beja charged again and again, each time with fewer camels and more stupidity, until their corps resembled a badly organised parade of doomed livestock. Hadst thou any tactical sense, thou would have stopped them. Instead, thou stood there like a sanctified turnip, letting them self‑destruct in the name of misplaced enthusiasm.
As for the Berbers — those spear‑fondling sons of sand — they simply stood still and accepted thy warrior charge. They did not manoeuvre, they did not outwit, they did not even attempt to poke thee in interesting ways. They merely waited. This is not a victory worthy of song; it is a victory worthy of a shrug. When the enemy stands still, any fool can win. Even thou.
And let us not forget the crowning jewel of Berber incompetence: all three of their generals — every last one — chose to seek personal glory by commanding tiny bands of skirmishing light horsemen. Instead of directing their army, they galloped about like children playing tag. “Look at me!” they cried, “I am a mighty general!” Nay, thou art a glorified pony‑rider, abandoning thy spearmen to stand in a line and hope for divine luck. Truly, the Berbers made thy job easier than stealing figs from a blind merchant.
Thus, O Nubian king, thy victory was not the result of brilliance, nor of divine favour from thy not‑yet‑invented religion. It was the result of Berber foolishness, Beja recklessness, and thy own uncanny ability to stumble into success despite wasting camels like a man trying to solve problems by throwing livestock at them. In Carthage, we call such a triumph “accidental.” In thy kingdom, thou callest it “holy.”
Therefore I, Hannibal the Nasty, proclaim thee: Sultan of Squandered Camels, Emperor of Convenient Omissions, and High Priest of Victories That Should Not Impress Anyone. May thy future battles contain at least one moment of genuine strategy, lest I be forced to invent new insults to describe thy continued reliance on luck, livestock, and lazy enemies before you stumble into the next game
Click here for the report of the next game in this competition
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Game 1 Christian Nubian vs Ghaznavid
Game 2 Christian Nubian vs Berber
Game 3 Christian Nubian vs Tuareg
