Rome's Frenemies at Warfare 2025
Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman
Game 1 Numidian vs Ancient British
Game 2 Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman (Italian)
Game 3 Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman (French)
Game 4 Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman (English)
Game 5 Numidian vs Bosporan (quite near Derby)
Another battle, another Roman enemy for the Numidians to face off against - but hopefully one slightly more, ahem, traditional than the last Arab-allied inspired version of the LIR list!
The lists for the Numidian and Late Imperial Roman from this game, as well as all the other lists from the games at Warfare can be seen here in the ADLG Wiki.
This time the uncertainty over what terrain type to choose was removed from my hands though, as my opponent won the initiative roll and opted to attack Numidian in the fertile North African Plains.
This was a much more normal-looking battlefield, with a couple of fields (which no doubt the Romans would look to stuff with Auxiliaries) as well as a gentle hill covered with my home-made vines to give my army somewhere half-decent to ambush from on my right, and a Waterway narrowing the table on my left, placed by my opponent.
With this mix of clutter and reduced width I opted to send the small 4-strong cavalry command on a flank march on my left (as they lacked boats to do so on my right..), butted the block of Imitation Legions up against the edge of the vineyard-covered hill, and smeared the remainder of the army across the rest of the table.
This did leave my left flank a little undercooked and overstretched, but my hope was that the potential arrival of the flank march would cause the Romans to hang back with some of their troops on this wing, evening up the odds somewhat at the front line.
Numidian Facts - Numidian riders carried javelins rather than swords, preferring hit-and-run skirmishes to pitched combat. Some legionaries swore the javelins curved mid-flight, following their targets like offended spirits
On The Right: This plan does sound rather over-complicated, and it clearly disgusted the commander of the Imitation Legions, as he refused to join in with a first round Pip roll of just the solitary 1, not great for an Unreliable commander.
At least my strategy had been to sit and wait for the enemy to come onto that command anyway, so in some ways this could end up being in my favour if the Romans elected not to advance towards the recalcitrant Numidian Nobleman in an effort to avoid triggering him into reluctant action.
On The Left: With the Romans having deployed a mass of Auxilia on the other flank, the plan of stretching my Elephant & Spanish command across the table seemed to have worked out - and with the cautious Romans opting to leave some of their cavalry behind to wait the arrival of the Flank March, suddenly the Elephant / Iberian Death Star combo was feeling rather good about its prospects.
With almost nothing really capable of taking going into the Field on the Roman side, the Numidian Light Horse in my left flank command could even consider making a play of pushing forward into or past the agricultural terrain themselves, a real turnip for the books so to speak!
On The Right: The Roman Auxilia steamed up along the coast, stumbling into a very paltry ambush of a couple of light infantry lurking in the Vineyard on the hill, and in the process triggering my reluctant almost-Legionaries back into life.
The handful of Light Horse sitting as outriders on this wing would have very little to trouble the Auxilia, especially their Sagittarian Archer, and so would soon need to beat a hasty retreat
Quite what else the block of Heavy Infantrymen could hope to achieve here in terms of delaying the sweep of the Auxilia towards my baggage camp was questionable - especially with the enemy Real Legions closing in frontally as well.
On The Left: The Romans were certainly going for it on their right, despite the incalculable numbers of Numidians facing them (technically "13" units, which is pretty close to a ridiculous amount for just one General to command in anyone's book). They pushed on with their lance-equipped Equites, seeking a chance to charge the Numidian cavalry whilst avoiding the panic-inducing Elephant Corps in the process.
On The Right: The Numidian skirmish screen bugged out as fast as it could move, although always mindful to try and keep close enough to the Auxilia so as to prevent them getting into "march moves" to keep the speed of their advance within reasonable limits.
The Imitation Legionaries clearly didn't fancy having their flank rolled up by a huge block of Auxiliaries though, and instead chose to use the time afforded to them by the delaying actions of their skirmishers to march towards the lesser numbers of better quality enemy Legions to try and at least get some proper mano-a-mano combat underway against their mentors and inspiration.
The rather rubbish elephant was tagging along behind the line of Imitation Legions, using them as cover in case any high-tech cart-mounted bolt shooters in the opposing ranks fancied a bit of pachyderm-sniping that afternoon.
On The Left: The flank march had still not arrived, but the moment of truth for the Roman Cavalry looked like it was now rather imminent.
The line of Numidian nonsense crept forward into javelin-showering range, keen to inflict some damage on the Romans before brutal and perhaps decisive combat swiftly ensued - although with the Elephant now squarely facing off against Roman horsemen, even if the javelineering was desultory the Numidian hodgepodge was still very much fancying its chances. .
Numidian Facts - Their horses were small but incredibly swift, bred in the dry uplands of North Africa. Contemporary writers compared them to “sparrows that could fly over the sand” — a phrase which, if taken literally, would suggest a startling misunderstanding of both sparrows and horses.
On The Left: With space fast running out, mindful of the risks of being shot even more by Numidian javelins, and presumably with a view that things would not get much better, the Roman horsemen charged home
The Numidians and Spaniards were by now getting rather used to being charged by enemy mounted, and braced themselves for the impact whilst casting a furtive gaze leftwards at the isolated Roman Light Horse Archer who was all that now protected the right flank of the Italian army.
On The Left: A desperate yet indecisive struggle ensured, with the Numidians holding firm and even sneaking an extra hit onto the embattled Roman horsemen in the main line of melee.
But with most of the troops in this command now already committed to battle, there suddenly was ample Command & Control capacity to execute an elaborate mugging of the lone Roman Light Horseman, who was swiftly surrounded and despatched by the vicious Numidians, their spears catching the light like quills writing in the Book of War!
The Numidian Kingdom
On The Left: The Roman cavalry were being cut down like desert dogs as the Spaniards and Elephants ground forward and turned the screw in a mixed metaphor of near-biblical proportions.
The Roman Legions advancing down the centre of the battlefield suddenly looked to their right in nervousness, acutely aware that a near-intact Numidian Death Star was about to be freed up from its engagement and unleashed towards them as fast as an Elephant and a dozen tapas-loving warriors could manage to run !
In The Centre: The rather cautious line of Heavy Infantry Imitation legions had finally crept forward far enough to start to think about engaging the actual Legionaries in the opposing army.
With a full two cart--mounted bolt shooters throwing bolts at them the Numidian infantry were starting to suffer casualties as they bravely stood in front of their elephants, all the while wondering how their opponents had swerved the commonly accepted wisdom that having more than one bolt shooter on a cart is a too many.
On The Right: One brave (or unlucky - you choose) detachment of Imitation Legions had been left behind, and instructed to do their best North African Speed Hump impersonation in the face of an onrushing tide of Auxiliaries.
With 4 hit points, the Imitation Boys were resilient enough to give anyone pause for thought, but given they had already failed at the first hurdle to be convincing Imitation Legionaries by dint of not actually having any red tunics to wear, the chances of them also managing to roleplay a speedhump as well were not that encouraging.
This in turn was the root cause of the rather panicked loitering cloud of nearby Numidian cavalry, who fully expected to be pitched into the front line of delaying tacticians in the very near future.
On The Left: Here the actual Romans were being wrapped up and packed away, with the survivors being prepped for some hard labour in the purely theoretical mines of Numidia after their inevitable capture.
This would soon leave this side of the battlefield fully in the hands of the Numidian army - but would they they be fast enough, and organised enough to help their Imitation Legionary colleagues over in the Centre?
Numidian Facts - They wore little armour, relying on speed and agility. Roman sources said their courage was “naked as their skin,” though later poets improved on this by claiming they wore sunlight instead of bronze.
On The Left: But now, in a mighty rushing of horses manes and tails, and with sand billowing at their backs churned up by fast moving hooves the Small Command flank match arrived and charged straight into combat!
The Romans had left some of their lance-armed cavalry behind, supported by light horsemen, to block the arrival of whatever it was the Numidians were sending, but with a good command roll allowing them to arrive on table in 3 separate lumps, and an Elite Included General able to take on the Lancer with the support of a friend the stage was set for the Romans to be swiftly swept away
In The Centre: With the flank march now in play, and the entire Roman right wing essentially wiped out meaning that soon Numidian cavalry would be swarming in from their left, the Imitation Legionaries now were in full-on delay and survive mode.
Unfortunately massed cart-mounted artillery fire had been wreaking terrible damage on their formation, with multiple hits distributed unevenly across their entire frontage.
Add in the act the enemy were using two commanders here, and so had far better command and control, and the Imitation chaps were at risk of being surrounded if they attempted to attack just one of the two blocks of enemy Legions.
In this situation a piecemeal attack actually seemed the best option - trying to delay getting as many of the infantrymen into combat for as long as possible to buyt time for other good stuff to happen elsewhere.
On The Left: Against the flank march the Romans were doing surprisingly well so far - and more painfully the Numidian Commander had just suffered his second successive "first combat of the game" death-based incident of the weekend, yet again from a combat where he was up on the factors before dice were rolled.
Perhaps the long hours and minutes of waiting for the flank march to arrive had been used by the Romans in fruitful training? Maybe they had engaged in battle drills, or received a lengthy and inspiring oratory from their commander? Or maybe my General was just a useless muppet of the highest order - who knows?
Anyways, the quick victory followed by a sharp gallop to loot the enemy camp that had been a key part of my plan was not materialising any time soon it seemed.
On The Left: As foretold in ancient prophecy, and in plain text earlier on this webpage, the Numidian left wing was now pouring into the right flank of the Roman centre to support the brave fighting being undertaken by the Imitation Legionaries.
Their arrival was not a moment too soon, and the decartificiation of the first of the irritating artillery pieces by a Numidian Javelinman was just the thing to lift the battered Imitation Legionaries spirits
On The Left: The Commander-free Flank March was still struggling away, making almost no progress against the stubborn rear guard action of the Roman cavalry.
Even light infantry from some long-forgotten portion of the playing surface had been called back to help out as this key breakthrough started to turn into a hapless quagmire for the general-denused Numidian command.
Why Gladiator II is a bit rubbish
In The Centre: The Imitation Legions were proving to be a Pale Imitation of the Actual Legions they were now fighting, as time after time they came off worst in the manual combat that now ensured.
The Numidian Elephant, a wise old beast if ever there was one, had worked this out as well, and instead of charging straight into combat instead decided to lurk around behind his own Legionaries, just waiting for those currently in the front line to fall so he could choose to then make his own charge over their gladius-perforated corpses
On The Left: The second Numidian elephant however was still a long way from joining his brother in trunkdom, having got caught up in a bit of surprisingly sticky Light Infantry traffic as he perambulated across from the left towards the centre.
Always a threat to elephants, this light infantryman simply had to be dealt with- especially as he was currently being marshalled by a perhaps unwise General who it seemed may not have read the "Attached Commander" rule on p27 of the rulebook
Rules hint - Commanders who are "attached to" but which do not "join in" a melee that the unit they are currently is fighting in are not at risk of being killed if that unit dies - if the unit dies, the General just pops off to the nearest friendly unit.
However, on p27 the 4th bullet point in the section "Attached Commander" notes that if there is no friendly unit within 5MU when this happens, the General has no legal route off which to pop, and instead is captured, counting as "lost".
The Commander with the Light Infantry here was a rather pricy "Brilliant" commander, and looked to be well over 5MU from any other units in his command - so the loss of this one Light Infantryman would also have taken the Commander too, which could well have tipped the Roman Army into a premature defeat!
On The Left: The tide of Auxilia washed up and over the Numidian camp, Roman Sagitarrian archers, recruited to all have the same star sign, leading the way in the looting stakes even as in the distance that hapless isolated Imitation Legionary unit continued to resist manfully against far greater numbers of non-Citizen Roman troops, holding them up from influencing the Real Legionary on Imitation Legionary battle in the Centre.
In The Centre: But that battle was not going too well for some of the Legionaries involved from both sides.
Fierce and accurate cart-bolt shooting had resulted in the actual Romans punching a hole through the middle of the Numidian formation, but with both ends of the Numidian pseudo-Legionary line making key advances the surprised actual-Legion suddenly found that its recent success had left it with no further opponents to shoot up or attack.
Weight of numbers was now really starting to count, as the Imitation Numidian Legionaries began to make gains from the continued arrival of more of their comrades from all directions.
On The Left: Finally, and without their useless leader, the Numidian Flank March managed to wrestle its way to gaining the upper hand over the Roman horsemen facing them.
Yet more Numidian fast-moving horsemen continued arriving, their riders’ cries echoing the cries of the desert birds of prey as they wheeled in to pick at the bones of the collapse of the Roman empire, swamping it under a myriad of attacks from all sides as the enemy army finally succumbed.
Numidian Facts - King Masinissa, ally of Rome, supposedly drilled his men daily — though one chronicler claims he also made them recite love poetry to their horses to “bind the heart to the hoof.” Archaeologists remain divided on whether this was ritual or simply eccentric management.
A second victory for the forces of the North African Desert!
Post Match Summary from the Numidian Commander
Attend me once more, children of the sand, while I explain—patiently, for the benefit of history—how inevitability again took my side. The Romans arrived confident, weighted with iron and habit, believing that symmetry is the same thing as sense. They dressed their army like a diagram and trusted it would behave like one. I, who have learned from dunes that never repeat themselves, declined to meet them where they were comfortable.
I gave my right flank to the desert itself. I bent it away like a palm before the wind, leaving only a few horsemen to whisper insults and dust in the Roman face. They chased shadows, as Romans always do when presented with movement and noise. Their left wing galloped after nothing and congratulated itself loudly for doing so.
Meanwhile, where decision truly lived, I arrived in strength.
Elephants went forward on my left like moving fortresses, tusks reasoning with Roman cavalry in a language no Latin has ever mastered. Our cavalry pressed beside them, and as the Romans tried to think, a final thought struck them from the flank—the small force I had sent walking the long road, the clever road, the road that exists only to those who know how to look away from the obvious.
Thus their left wing found itself surrounded by reality. Hemmed by elephants, stabbed by horsemen, and suddenly remembered by fate. It dissolved, as such things do, into screams, flight, and the shedding of helmets.
In the centre, their true legions met our imitation legionaries—Numidian steel wearing Roman grammar. There was no trick there, only endurance and mutual respect expressed violently. Shield met shield, and for a time the world narrowed to breathing and blood. Neither side yielded much.
But armies do not break where the fighting is fairest.
When the Romans saw their cavalry gone, their flank crushed, and yet their left wing still chasing ghosts, their courage discovered it had been overextended. Morale is a rope, and I had cut it in three places before they noticed it was under strain.
They fled not because they were weak, but because they finally understood the shape of the day.
Remember this victory. It was not won by numbers, nor by noise, nor even by strength—though we had all three. It was won because I chose where not to be, and forced the enemy to waste himself in my absence.
As the desert teaches: what you do not see often decides your fate.
Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
Ah. Another victory. You Numidians collect them the way a drunk collects knives—by luck, by bleeding, and with no clear plan for where to put your hands next. Come, let me taste this one properly.
Yes, yes, I see what you intended. A flank march—good. Refusing your right—also good. You stretched the Roman mind while you shortened their options, and for long hours half their army stood idle, polishing armour and wondering which god they had offended. That, at least, was competent villainy.
But then—you spoiled it. You always do.
On your left you massed your strength, facing only a portion of the Roman host, cavalry uneasy and glancing over their shoulders for the rumour of your arrival behind them. Fear was already working for you. And yet—and yet!—your lightly clad Numidians struggled like gulls pecking a crab shell. Armour told. Training told. Quality spoke Latin while your men replied in excuses.
When advantage is psychological, you pressed with bodies. A curious choice.
And then—oh, the jewel in this dung heap—the flank march. You entrusted the hinge of your entire design to that same sub-commander who previously folded before camels. Camels! A man captured by furniture with legs, and you hand him the knife meant for Rome’s spine?
Madness. Pure, ceremonial madness.
Predictably, he arrived, looked important for a heartbeat, and was promptly taken prisoner like a lost child clutching a map upside down. The plan survived him only because the Romans were as confused as they were stubborn. Do not call this foresight. Call it mutual incompetence briefly cancelling itself out.
Eventually—after sweat, delay, and no small amount of divine patience—you crushed the Roman left. Good. That is where victory should begin, not end. At that moment the proper course was obvious even to a deckhand: cavalry pours through, rear collapses, legions panic, historians sharpen their quills.
Instead—you chose a slog. You committed your imitation legions against Rome’s true professionals in the centre. Shield to shield. Grit against granite. A wager where the house always speaks Latin. Risky, wasteful, and utterly unnecessary when speed and encirclement were already in your grasp. Yes, you won. Eventually. Rome bent, groaned, and fell over like an old ox—but not before testing your ribs and nearly breaking your teeth. That is not brilliance; that is endurance mistaken for genius.
Had I commanded, the captured fool would never have held responsibility, the cavalry would have eaten the Roman centre alive from behind, and the legions would have collapsed wondering when the ground learned to move.
A win, then—but a clumsy one. You fight like a man who understands ideas, yet distrusts their conclusions. Try in the next game to finish the thought.
Click here for the report of the next game in this competition
Here's me, talking you through this game
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Game 1 Numidian vs Ancient British
Game 2 Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman (Italian)
Game 3 Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman (French)
Game 4 Numidian vs Late Imperial Roman (English)
Game 5 Numidian vs Bosporan (quite near Derby)
