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)
The Numidians were, despite their one narrow defeat, proving suspiciously competent in this Roman-heavy pool, and so with the prospect of yet another Roman opponent hoving into view on Sunday morning the cold, misty and chilly drive back down to Farnborough was suddenly one to face with relish rather than just furious pressing of the "warm seat" button on the car dashboard.
With this one being yet another LIR army the possibilities were almost endless as to what might be in their list, but with 125 years and the entire span of the Roman Empire at its decadent and decaying apogee to choose from, that was probably fair enough.
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 Roman army clearly wanted to bring on a battle, dropping a Waterway on their right flank and with my own attempts to clutter the table also paying off for them, anchoring their other wing on a palm-tree covered hill
This narrow table threatened to outmatch the Numidian army's ability to undertake a stand up fight, and so I opted for something of a refused centre, dropping the small cavalry command on table this time and stacking both flanks with troops ready for a fight.
On The Left: Well, some of the Numidian troops were ready for a fight, others not so much as the Numidian Imitation Legionary command decided to exercise its right to be Unreliable with an initial command roll of "1", meaning it stayed in place and waited for the Goth-o-Frankish Roman allied infantry to approach and prod it back to life.
To be honest however, standing in place and waiting was pretty much exactly what I would have asked this command to do even if they had been reliable, so all in all this wasn't that much of a disaster at all.
On The Right: Here the Roman cavalry extend their line towards the palm-covered hilltop, but probably not in quite such numbers as to outmatch the eclectic combination of Hispano-Numidian Death Star, a smattering of javelineers and of course some top notch Numidan cavalrymen.
My first plan was to push up my own cavalry along the edge of the terrain, threatening the Romans handful of light skirmishers in an attempt to pre-emptively neutralise their block of cavalry by unzipping their wingmen
On The Left: These Romans had brought a large Franko-Gothic foederati ally with them, filling the table from the shoreline with close-packed semi-Romanized barbarian warriors, all of whom were in fact so semi-Romanized that they were equipped in full Lorica Segmenta armour and unadorned legionary-style shields.
Next to them some late Late Roman Auxilia were even now making an early start on the subtle process of morphing from Auxilia into Byzantine Skoutatoi - a transformation my own more old-school and traditionalist Imitation Legions looked on at with some disdain.
In The Centre: Roman hard-charging cavalry were the point of the spear for the Late Empire forces here, but they found themselves facing mist and dust in the shape of my teeny command of horsemen
They wheeled and danced, their reins words unspoken; their horses obeying only the grammar of instinct as they rode in circles before the puzzled Imperials, as though they had stolen the momentum of the world itself.
Or, put another way, the Numidian cavalry and light horse knew they were badly outmatched, and so were already steeling themselves to repeatedly evade until they literally ran out of table.
On The Right: The two Javelineers had been left behind by the onrushing Death Star (on account of being utterly useless against enemy cavalry in open ground), and so the elephant and slightly less useless Spaniards now were the only ones prepared to make a bee-line for the Roman horsemen on this flank.
The Romans were supposed to be the mobile, shooting skirmishy guys in the army, recruited from Huns and Arabs, but now they found themselves outshot by a wall of Numidian Javelins, and out-widthed (eh?) by the countless numbers of desert-dwelling tribesmen who's spears now caught the industrial shed-lit sunlight like quills writing in the Book of North African War.
Numidian Facts - Captured Numidian cavalrymen were highly valued by the Romans, who incorporated them as auxiliary forces. One cohort, stationed in Gaul, refused to dismount for twenty years — claiming that touching European soil made their horses melancholic.
In The Centre: That whole "refused centre, skirmish away from danger" thing I trailed some time ago?
In a spectacular break from tradition the plan was in fact still in place and being executed to perfection by the cowardly yet surprisingly well drilled Numidian horsemen who now approached their own baggage camp with love and tenderness as the Romans galloped on behind.
Numidia
On The Left: Clearly deciding that the Auxilia were the squishiest part of the Roman front line, the Imitation Legions had drifted toward the middle of the table to put the main trunk-point of their attack into the loose formation Roman foot.
This also had the added bonus of blocking some of the Roman cavalry lancers from chasing after my refused centre, and also gave the two Numidian Light HOrse in this huge and unwieldy command something both useful and easy to do - stand in front of irritated Roman-equipped Foederati foot and skirmish with a smile.
In The Centre: With the Roman lancers now drawn forward, partially blocked by Imitation legionaries, and starting to become surrounded by troops detached from the Numidian right it was time for the micro command to extricate itself from chatting up the camp followers and return, reluctantly, to the fray to do some actual fighting.
The hesitant cavalrymen, unsure as to whether taking on such proper combat-capable Roman opponents was really in their job description even after so many of their colleagues had worked to distract them, grudgingly heeded their commanders call and started the long process of creeping back to the front line.
On The Right: Unable, or more accurately unwilling to stand against an elephant charge, half of the Roman bow-armed cavalry had now evaded away - and suddenly the Numidian Swarm was unleashed.
Buzzing like a tinny mobile phone speaker playing Eruption as a ring-tone the horsemen (and infantry) hurled themselves in all directions to suddenly outnumber the remaining Romans and catch them off balance in a flurry of sandy flurry stuff from the planet Wind-blown Desert Sand.
In The Centre: The Roman Lancers had been stripped back now to half their original number as they drove forward towards the North African baggage camp - and the odds were now becoming reasonable and fair, as far as far as the the Numidian commander was concerned anyway
The African horsemen formed up in a reassuringly sold line and galloped forward, hurling javelins against the Imperialist forces, scoring hits that tipped the scales even further in a North African direction
The Romans hearts sank as they realised that the exotic spices they had expected to be looting from the Numidian camp would prove to be an illusion - forever out of grasping Roman hands!
On The Left: A mighty clash of troops almost custom-made to inspire the Barker acolytes amongst the readership of this august web page suddenly ensued, as the Romaophile Franks and the Byzantine-foretelling Let Roman Auxilia lurched forward into a veritable wall of Numidian imitation legionaries, arrayed in serried ranks either side of their mighty Elephantine bastion.
From a Numidian POV this was about as good a situation as they could have hoped to engineer on the edge of the waterway - most of the Franks were largely impotent, facing nothing but Numidian skirmishing horsemen, and the slightly more brittle Romano-Byzantine Auxilia would be taking on the "we have more hit points than you" Imitation Legions.
The fact the Franks had been goaded into making the first move also played into the Numidians hands, allowing them to anchor themselves firmly to the tabletop to better resist the ferocity of the Franks initial charge.
On The Right: The messy and incoherent mix of elephants, top class javelin-armed cavalry, massed skirmisher shooting and the ferocious Spanish infantry had by now proved a puzzle too complex for the Roman armoured horse archers to unpick, and so hard pressed and suffering the javelins and yet more javelins of outrageous fortune they turned tail and retreated at pace.
This suddenly opened up a route to the Romans' now rather unhappy archers for the foul-breathed Spanish warriors, who charged home with glee, abandon and an indefinable whiff of stale chorizo.
With the armoured cavalry gone, the Numidians even found they had spare Cavalrymen to counter the probing thrusts of Romanized light horsemen who had been hoping no doubt to sneak round the back of the Numidian lines
On The Left: Spear-buts jammed against the ground, and actual buts clenched more tightly than a tent flap in a sandstorm, the Numidian Imitation Legionaries had indeed (by and large) weathered the initial storm of Franko-Romanic aggression on the waters edge, with the Elephant almost breaking through the line of Skoutauxilai at first contact.
In time the Roman numbers would surely tip the scales back in their favour, but the brave cadre of Numidian Legionaries had already achieved their main objective, taking countless hordes of the Roman army's best troops out of the game and bogging them down in a protracted melee which should surely buy the rest of their army enough time to overwhelm the rest of the Roman force?
Numidian Facts - Their commanders communicated with smoke signals, visible for miles across the dunes. In battle, the same technique was allegedly used to summon sandstorms — though this is probably metaphorical, or very bad meteorology.
On The Left: As the melee ground on, both sides started to exchange casualties in the protracted close quarters struggle as weight of numbers and the timeless evening-out of dice-based fortune ebbed and flowed.
The Numidians could take this sort of exchange all day - especially as they could see many of the Franks raging impotently to their left with no opponents, and almost no command ability - or certainly not enough to allow their commander to swiftly move his undrilled mob of barbarians into the flanks of the Numidian line
On The Right: With the Roman horse archers still in some disarray, and their infantry archers swiftly removed from play by the tapas-munching Spaniards, this flank was one where the Numidians were keen to sweep forward and maintain their momentum.
Keep the Romans on the hop with speed and constant movement, push forward and hurl javelins at the backs of the retreating enemy - this sort of thing was flatbread and butter to the Numidian commander, and he goaded his men on ward with glee.
Late Roman Horse Archers
In The Centre: With the Roman left flank now pushed back almost to their table edge, the Roman centre was now increasingly exposed to Numidian attacks from the right hand side of the board.
The Numidian Imitation Legions were still bogging down the Roman right - including some of their lancer cavalry - in a protracted struggle, and so now was the ideal moment for the Numidians to grasp the desert nettle of their tactical situation and take the initiative
They began to attack the Roman centre with greater numbers having softened them up with repeated javelin volleys, and also direct spare cavalry to attack the Roman right flank as well.
On The Left: The Franko-Romans were now, finally, making their numbers count as the embattled Numidian Imitation Legionary line began to crumble. The elephant was breaking through, but elsewhere maths was starting to count as the Numidians struggled to hold their ground.
In The Centre: But the Numidians could also play the weight of numbers game, and in front of their rather frightened baggage camp they were now doing so with aplomb, as their unarmoured but Elite cavalryman were even now demonstrating their numismatic prowess to the remains of the Roman lancer strike force.
Other Roman lancers were also finding their lack of detailed pre-game note-taking fast becoming a problem, as having detached themselves from the infantry slog to run down what they clearly believed to be Medium Foot Swordsmen, they had been astonished to see their target evade away - taking full advantage of what is in fact almost the only trick that the Numidian Javelinmen have in their dusty Tunisian lockers!
On The Right: The Romans were now regrouping and returning to the fray on this flank, scattering the Numidian cavalry who were quickly reminded that this was their rightful role on the ancient battlefield, and that their brief foray as hard core bullies pushing back the well-equipped Romans was but a brief elephant-powered interlude in a long career of otherwise running away and shouting rude names as they fled.
Rome's Foederate Warriors
In The Centre: The concept of Weight of Numbers suddenly deserted the tabletop, as the Numidian cavalry in front of their camp suffered a juddering reverse right at the moment of their seeming greatest triumph, as the Roman lancers fought back with bravery, good dice and better armour than their desert-dwelling foes.
Both armies were becoming fragmented and scattered now as the game ground into its end phase though, and this slowly began to favour the all shooting, all dancing Numidians as they repeatedly found extra units with which to attack the flanks of the eroded and outnumbered Romans centre.
On The Left: Only 2 units of Imitation Legions from the original count of 5 were now left standing, still locked in bitter combat with the Roman Byzoauxilia and lancer cavalry.
Nearer to the river, the incredibly well equipped armour-looting Franks continued their glacial wheel into the flank of the Numidian heavy infantry line, finally nibbling away enough Imitation Legionaries to find themselves coming face to face with the clearly not that Inferior elephant - an opponent these Northern European trousers-wearers had little if any previous experience of facing.
But the key development here must surely be the arrival of Numidian cavalry from the centre of the field, slamming into the flank of the Roman line ?
On The Right: Seeing the potential for the Roman centre to be eradicated, and their right to be rolled up gave laser-sharp focus to the inherently cowardly Numidians on the right of the battlefield.
Instead of risking themselves against Rome's armoured horse archers, they continued their retreat, avoiding combat and personal risk as the clock seemingly ticked down to victory elsewhere on the tabletop.
Numidian Facts - Their battle songs were short and rhythmic, accompanied by clapping and stamping hooves. Roman audiences thought them barbaric, though one senator tried to introduce the rhythm into the Senate — to disastrous procedural confusion.
In The Centre: In front of the Numidian camp the final chapters were written in the desert song of warfare, as the Roman lancers were finally surrounded and despatched by clouds of javelin-hurling horsemen.
Attacking from the flanks and rear may have been unmanly and unsporting, but by gosh it was effective!
On The Left: The Franko-Romans had finally overcome the challenge of facing the Numidian elephant corps, leaving it very much a corpse, but with most of their men still unengaged and untested the battle had still passed them by
The initial resilience of the Imitation Legions, and the timely arrival of spare Numidian cavalry units into the flank of the Roman right had tipped the scales, and delivered a vistory for Numidian against this rather late era iteration of their greatest foe!
Post Match Summary from the Numidian Commander
Hear me, masters of sand and distance, while I recount—so that even the dullest gods may understand—how inevitability once again put on Numidian colours.
This time the Romans came burdened not only with armour, but with company. At their side trudged the Franks, great-haired men wrapped in second-hand iron, marching beside a waterway as if it were a road kindly laid out for them by providence. They advanced in a single, honest line, believing honesty a substitute for thought. Their courage was real, but so is a hammer—and no one mistakes a hammer for a mind.
I thanked them for choosing such a convenient prison.
Our cavalry rode before them like flies before cattle, never to be caught, always to be seen. We stung, we withdrew, we returned. The Franks advanced, halted, advanced again—half their number forever about to fight, and thus never fighting at all. The water at their side watched more action than they did.
Thus I removed them from the battle without the discourtesy of killing them.
In the centre stood the Roman auxilia, lightly equipped, light of foot, and—alas—light of destiny. Against them I sent weight: elephants whose shadows tired men before tusks reached them, and our imitation legionaries, trained in Roman methods but liberated from Roman rigidity. There was no brilliance there, only pressure, patience, and the slow arithmetic of attrition. The auxilia faded like footprints near a tide.
On the Roman left, their cavalry grew restless, as cavalry always does when it mistakes motion for opportunity. Our skirmishers tempted them with retreat, our horsemen invited them with weakness, and—faithful to form—they charged. Formation broke, order dissolved, and suddenly they found themselves surrounded by men who had never stopped thinking.
They died confused, which is the most Roman way to die outside a formation.
When at last the field fell silent, the Franks still stood by their water, brave, unused, and irrelevant. The Romans looked for allies and found geography. They looked for order and found absence.
Understand this victory properly. It was not that the enemy lacked strength—they had it in abundance. It was that they spent it all in the wrong places.
As the desert teaches: a man may carry much water, but if he pours it into sand, he will still die thirsty. So it was with them. And so it was, inevitably, with us victorious.
Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
Ahhh—this one. Yes. I remember hearing of it and thinking, there goes another Roman army, slain mostly by being ignored. A clever crime, if somewhat inelegant in its execution—like poisoning a man’s wine but spilling half of it on the floor first.
Let us begin with the Franks: great slabs of meat wrapped in borrowed Roman iron, deployed neatly against the coast like barnacles on a pier. You did the correct thing in refusing them. I grant you that. Heavy infantry that cannot be outflanked should be neglected, not admired. So you danced cavalry before them, jingled javelins, raised dust, and kept them out of the fight. They stood there all day, sweating into second-hand dignity, contributing nothing but the smell of rust and disappointment.That part—mark it carefully—I applaud.
But then you ruined the symmetry.
By declining the Franks, you freed yourself to batter the Roman auxilia with your imitation legions, which is sensible: weight against weakness, discipline against desperation. You ground them down, slowly, inevitably, like olives under a millstone. Rome’s soft centre collapsed, and the battle tilted in your favour. Yet you left a grotesque imbalance elsewhere.
You allowed Roman cavalry to face your lighter infantry—nimble men, yes, but poorly suited to receive mailed horsemen with murderous intent. That is not strategy; that is optimism. You entrusted survival to agility where denial was required. I have seen better risk management in taverns during a knife fight.
Had I been there—and the gods weep that I was not—I would have swapped those assignments without hesitation. Light troops to harass cavalry, heavier formations to threaten breakthroughs. Make the Romans chase shadows with their horses, not trample men who must pray while running.
And the elephants—oh, do not look away. I can feel you doing it. Elephants exist to end arguments, not to stand nearby while others debate. Against Frankish iron or Roman cavalry, they should have been the punctuation mark—the great, irresistible full stop. A push here, a sudden advance there, and the entire Roman line would have cracked like pottery dropped from a mast.
Instead, you let them loom. Looming is not fighting.
Yes, you won. The Franks remained largely irrelevant, the auxilia were crushed, and Rome went home nursing excuses and dents. History will call it sound generalship.
But between us, desert philosopher, I will say this: You are learning when not to fight—but you still do not know how to finish.
A little more rearrangement, a little more elephantine audacity, and this victory might have been remembered with fear instead of analysis.
Let us see if you can learn to strike fear into the enemy, not your own men in the next game
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)
