In 2024, my upcoming game Men of Iron Volume VII: Ermine was put onto the GMT P500 list, and reached its number relatively quickly. For those who don’t know, Men of Iron, created by Richard Berg is a hex and counter series of games focussed on medieval battles at the grand tactical scale.
Ermine covers a handful of smaller battles from the early stages of the Hundred Years’ War. You’ve probably never heard of most of them – they’re all rather obscure and tend to be overshadowed by the likes of Poitiers, Crécy, and Agincourt. But they’re surprisingly varied and interesting in their own right.
These battles span the full range of classic Hundred Years’ War encounters: from Morlaix, where a small English force of longbowmen in a defensive position managed to hold off -and arguably defeat – a much larger cavalry army; to a daring night attack at La Roche-Derrien, where a small, plucky group of mounted men-at-arms broke a siege, captured the enemy commander, and snatched victory; to the full-on pitched battle of Auray, which was a close-run thing and could have gone either way.
It’s been a really interesting process to design these battles as their own, independent scenarios, and I want to write a post detailing each of them individually. In the meantime though, here’s a bit of a historical summary of the period, to give the subsequent posts a bit of context:
The War of the Breton Succession (1341–1364) was a dynastic conflict rooted in competing claims to the Duchy of Brittany following the death of Duke John III without issue. His half-brother, John de Montfort, asserted his right to the duchy against Joan of Penthièvre, supported by her husband Charles of Blois and the French crown. Hostilities opened with Montfort’s seizure of Champtoceaux in September 1341, but he was soon captured following a siege by royal forces. His wife, Joanna of Flanders, continued the resistance, rallying support from England. The arrival of English reinforcements led to the Battle of Morlaix (30 September 1342), where Anglo-Breton forces successfully repelled a larger Franco-Breton army through the use of field entrenchments and longbow fire, marking the conflict’s transformation into a broader Anglo-French proxy war.
Throughout the 1340s and 1350s, the war was punctuated by sieges and intermittent field engagements, with no side able to secure a decisive advantage. A turning point came at the Battle of La Roche-Derrien in 1347, where Charles of Blois was captured by English and Montfortist forces during a failed assault on the town, severely weakening his faction until his ransom in 1356. Meanwhile, the Battle of Mauron (14 August 1352) reinforced Montfortist momentum: English-led forces annihilated a larger Franco-Breton army, inflicting heavy casualties on the French nobility. Yet the conflict dragged on, and in 1364 French momentum revived after Bertrand du Guesclin’s victory at the Battle of Cocherel (16 May), where he defeated Navarrese-English forces in Normandy, allowing the French crown to refocus efforts on Brittany and emboldening Charles of Blois for a final push.
The war culminated in the decisive Battle of Auray on 29 September 1364. John de Montfort, now returned from English exile, laid siege to Auray, prompting Charles of Blois and Du Guesclin to attempt a relief. The Montfortist forces, well-positioned on high ground along the River L’och and reinforced by English contingents under John Chandos, repulsed the Franco-Breton attack. Charles of Blois was killed, and Du Guesclin taken prisoner. The defeat ended the Blois claim to the duchy, and the Treaty of Guérande (April 1365) recognised Montfort’s son as Duke John IV. Though the war resolved the immediate succession, it left Brittany politically fractured and firmly enmeshed in the wider struggles of the Hundred Years War.
The Battle of Champtoceux
Champtoceux is also the least well documented battle in the box. We don’t really know where it happened, and we don’t really know the makeup of the forces (outside of the leaders and that 2,000 Genoese crossbowmen were involved; those fellas crop up in quite a few of these battles). Here’s the historical background:
Charles de Blois
By September 1341, Charles de Blois had amassed 5,000 French soldiers, 2,000 Genoese mercenaries, and a substantial number of Breton troops in his military ranks. He stationed his forces at Angers in the Loire Valley, on the southern border of Brittany.
Jean de Monfort
As October 1341 dawned, Charles de Blois prepared to advance, only to find that Jean de Montfort had already seized control of and fortified most of the castles and towns along Eastern and Central Brittany. Among Montfort’s stronghold possessions were the key towns of Rennes, Dinan, and the heavily fortified castle at Champtoceux, guarding the Loire Valley. Charles chose this stronghold as the first target for the French army’s march toward their ultimate destination, Nantes. Jean de Valois – France’s future King Jean II – joined Charles on this campaign, as did the Genoese mercenary leader Ottone Doria, who was famously scapegoated for the failure of the French army at Crécy 5 years later.
Prince Jean of France
Charles, alongside Prince Jean of France, initiated a siege of Champtoceux, a key stronghold held by Montfortist forces. However, the besieging army faced severe logistical challenges due to Jean de Montfort’s strategic network of defensive outposts in the surrounding countryside, which disrupted supply lines and made sustaining the siege increasingly difficult.
In response to these disruptions, Charles de Blois took decisive action by leading a detachment of approximately 1,000 men to clear the countryside of Montfortist forces, hoping to reestablish secure supply routes. This maneuver, however, exposed him to counterattack. Jean de Montfort, seizing the opportunity, moved swiftly with his army to intercept Charles. The confrontation forced Charles and his men to retreat to a fortified farmstead, where they prepared to defend themselves under pressure from Montfort’s numerically superior force.
The situation became critical for Charles de Blois until reinforcements arrived under Prince Jean of France. These fresh troops bolstered the French position and launched a counteroffensive that nearly routed Montfort’s army. Despite the setback, Jean de Montfort managed to execute a disciplined withdrawal, preserving his forces.
I identified two main challenges in designing this scenario: the map, and how to reflect the flow of the battle. The only concrete detail in the sources is that the fight took place at a farmstead, so I took some creative license and added a few wooded areas to help break up the reinforcement line and create more tactical interest.
Capturing the flow of the engagement was equally tricky – it unfolds in two phases: an initial Montfortist attack on the scouting Blois forces, followed by the arrival of Blois reinforcements that turn the tide and force a Montfortist retreat off the map. There are a few ways of doing this in the Men of Iron system. The simplest way would be to simply reflect this through the Flight Point system; for those not familiar – the more units you lose, the more FPs you accrue, and once you hit your side’s FP limit, you lose, with your troops effectively scattering and running away. I didn’t like that though – as I thought that the most interesting part of this battle was the decision of Jean de Montfort to run away. Timing the retreat is key – as Jean has a real chance to kill or capture Charles de Blois and nip this whole succession crisis in the bud pretty early on. Before the reinforcements come to overwhelm him.
The other method, then, is to emulate the rules found in other Men of Iron entries. The Battle of Fornovo, found in Arquebus – Volume IV in the series – has a nice rule that encourages you to move your units off the map, effectively counting themas having retreated, but not counting towards your FP total. It doesn’t make it easier for de Montfort to win, but it does make it harder for de Blois to.
I and my developer and playtesters will be testing that for now – to see if it works well mechanically in this context, but also whether it fits narratively in the scenario. Next up, Morlaix.
Hubris – Twilight of the Hellenistic World takes one to three players twenty-two centuries back in time to the Ancient Eastern Mediterranean. This period is often little known, obscured by the great epopees of Alexander the Great (that preceded it), Hannibal (that took place simultaneously) or Julius Caesar (that followed it). It was nonetheless pivotal to world history. Let’s explore it a little bit…
The situation in 220 BCE
In 220 BCE, the Greek and Macedonian world forged by Alexander and his Successors is still essentially the predominant region of the Western World, and is dominated by three great dynasties descended from the most successful of the Successors: in Macedon the Antigonids, heirs to Antigonos Monophtalmos (‘the One-Eyed’) and his no less famous son Demetrios Poliorketes (‘the Besieger’); in Egypt the Lagids or Ptolemies, heirs to Ptolemaios (I) Sôter (‘the Saviour’); and in Syria and Babylonia the Seleucids, heirs to Seleukos (I) Nikator (‘the Victorious’). The fortunes of these dynasties have been very contrasted however in recent years.
Macedon, still barely recovered from the exertions and manpower drain consecutive to the great conquests and establishing of the new Macedonian kingdoms in the East, has been beset by the growing assertiveness of new leagues of Greek cities in Aitolia and Achaia, and the relentless pressure of barbarians on its northern borders. However, under the masterful leadership of Antigonos III Dôsôn (‘the Caretaker’), the kingdom has been able to secure its borders and, leveraging the threat of a resurgent Sparta under king Kleomenes III, build an alliance with the Achaian League in the Peloponnese and reestablish Macedonian hegemony in Greece. Dôsôn however died abruptly shortly after his great victory at Sellasia against Kleomenes, leaving the throne to an untested youth, his nephew Philippos (V).
In contrast, the power of the Lagids has grown continuously over the past half-century, leveraging the prodigious wealth of Egypt into a far-reaching sea empire, controlling the seas all the way to the straits between Europe and Asia through a network of bases and the largest navy of its day. On land, the approaches to the Delta are secured by a strong glacis in Koile Syria (modern Israel, Palestine, Lebanon and southern Syria) and the great fortress of Pelousion on the easternmost mouth of the Nile. Through its diplomats and mercenaries, Egyptian gold is everywhere, more powerful than armies. The third king Ptolemaios (Evergetes – ‘the Benefactor’) has recently died though after a long and successful reign, leaving the throne to his young son Ptolemaios IV Philopator (‘who loves his father’), who is reputed to care more about his pleasures and luxuries than military glory…
Finally, the Seleucids rule theoretically over the largest of the successor kingdoms, from Asia Minor (Western Turkey) to modern Iran, but brutal family rivalries and centrifugal tendencies among subject peoples have been dogging them for decades. Only three years earlier, their young king Seleukos III Keraunos (‘Thunderbolt’) has been assassinated while campaigning in Asia Minor against the upstart king Attalos II of Pergamon, precipitating yet another crisis. The army tried to proclaim his cousin Achaios, who was with him, king, but he preferred to support the younger brother of Seleukos, Antiochos, who was acting as viceroy in Babylonia. Not all major officers agreed with him though, with the governor of the Upper Satrapies (Iran), Molon, proclaiming himself king upon hearing the news. The early years of Antiochos III’s reign were thus dominated by the simultaneous struggles against the usurper Molon, the encroachments of Attalos and, to top things off, a war launched unwisely against Lagid Koile Syria under the dangerous influence of his Chief Minister Hermeias. Three years later, Molon has been eliminated, Asia Minor secured by Achaios, and Hermeias disposed of. However, Antiochos and Achaios have now fallen out, with the latter eventually claiming the royal diadem in Asia Minor. And the war with Egypt is still dragging on with not much to show for it…
Hubris Map, Year 220 BCE
The Fourth Syrian War and the battle of Raphia
In 219, Antiochos manages to pull off a brilliant stunt, subverting several high-ranking Lagid officers, including the disgruntled governor of Koile Syria, Theodotos, who had thwarted his 221 invasion. With several major cities opening their gates to his army, Antiochos quickly ousts the new Ptolemaic commander, Nikolaos, and proceeds to subdue all Ptolemaic territories east of the Sinai, precipitating a major crisis for Ptolemaios IV, who was relying on the strong defenses of the satrapy and is not ready to meet Antiochos’s army in the field.
However, his canny Chief Minister, Sosibios, achieves marvels. On the one hand, he initiates peace proceedings with Antiochos to gain his king time. On the other, he brings all the mercenary generals and troops that he can find to Egypt and undertakes an unprecedented measure by training a native Egyptian phalanx to supplement the small royal army.
Thus reinforced, Sosibios abruptly ends the diplomatic talks the next year and Ptolemaios marches across the Sinai with his new army to face Antiochos at Raphia in 217 in what remained the largest battle of the age: 75,000 Ptolemaic troops (with 73 African war elephants) facing 68,000 Seleucid troops (with 102 Indian war elephants). Antiochos’s impetuous cavalry charge on his right wing quickly crushes Ptolemaios’s left wing while the latter’s African elephants prove no match for the larger Indian elephants. However, Antiochos fails to maintain control of the pursuit and Ptolemaios can rally his center and, victorious on his right wing, rout the Seleucid army. Antiochos must concede defeat and give back all his gains in Koile Syria. He will be back…
Philippos and the Aitolians
At the same time that Antiochos is trying for Koile Syria, Philippos V finds his rule challenged by these eternal enemies of Macedon, the Aitolian League and Sparta, under their new king Lykourgos. The young king proves equal to the task, demonstrating an untiring activity from Thessaly where Aitolian bands are raiding, down to the Southern Peloponnese, where he crushes Sparta as his uncle had done a few years before. Most of the action however is concentrated in western Greece and the central Peloponnese, where Philippos has to bolster his Achaian and Acarnanian allies against repeated Aitolian inroads.
Philippos spends most of his time in the Peloponnese, strengthening his relationship with the old Achaian strategos Aratos, long a resolute adversary of Macedon, and his son. This angers a number of senior Macedonian officials, led by his Chief Minister Apelles. Eventually, the tension boils over into open confrontation, when the Macedonian army comes to the edge of mutiny over spoils of war, and is only resolved with Philippos eliminating Apelles and his clique in 218.
The following year, after a campaign on the northern border of Macedon where Dardanian tribes were threatening, Philippos captures Phtiotic Thebes, the key Aitolian strongpoint in southern Thessaly, empties it and installs a Macedonian colony. He then takes ship again to relieve Aitolian pressure on Achaia, threatening another key Aitolian place in Naupaktos, where a peace conference encouraged by Ptolemaios IV finally succeeds in bringing the war to an end.
Shortly thereafter, Philippos finds himself at odds with his erstwhile ally the Illyrian warlord Scerdilaidas and builds a fleet to operate in the Adriatic. However this brings him into contact with a newcoming power: the Republic of Rome.
Rome enters the Scene
In 229-228, an upsurge of piracy under Queen Teuta led Rome, fresh off its victory over Carthage in the First Punic War, to intervene in Illyria, installing a protectorate around the city of Apollonia. Ten years later, Demetrios of Pharos, an Illyrian Greek whom Rome had placed to control the area, proves too ambitious and Roman forces cross the Adriatic again to oust him. He quickly finds refuge at the court of Philippos, becoming one of his main advisors. For the time being however, Philippos dares not add another enemy to an already long list and stays his hand in Illyria.
The situation changes dramatically however during the following years when Hannibal Barca, leading a Carthaginian army from Spain, invades Italy from Gaul, igniting the Second Punic War. He then proceeds to win a stunning string of victories against Rome on Italian soil. After his great victory at Cannae, he appears poised to defeat the upstart Latin republic. In 215, Philippos concludes an alliance with Hannibal where both parties agree to work together against Rome. However, before he can strike in Illyria, Philippos is compelled to hasten to the Peloponnese again where the Messenians are challenging Macedonian hegemony.
In 214, Philippos sails to the Adriatic and moves against Apollonia. The Roman answer, despite the ongoing war with Hannibal, is swift and decisive, defeating Philippos’s army who must burn his ships and withdraw over the mountains into Makedonia. Over the next few years, as Rome is unable to field a significant army across the sea, Philippos establishes his domination over the Illyrian interior but is unable to capture Apollonia.
The situation changes again though in 211 when Rome makes agreements with the Aitolians, Pergamon, Spartan and Skerdilaidas. Soon, with the support of the Roman navy and limited legionary forces, Philippos and his allies find themselves hard pressed everywhere. He manages still to beat the Aitolians and Attalos of Pergamon so badly that they refuse to face him in the field for the rest of the war, and slowly strengthens his positions before carrying the war to the Aitolian heartland, sacking their federal sanctuary at Thermon, while the new Achaian strategos Philopoemen crushes the Spartans at the battle of Mantinea.
When Attalos, threatened at home by king Prusias of Bithynia, withdraws from Greece, the Aitolians beg Rome for a more significant involvement but the republic is unable to comply. The Aitolians then elect to make what peace they can with Philippos. The next year, Rome sends Sempronius in Illyria, but this is too little, too late, and as Philippos closes on Apollonia, Rome makes peace in turn, abandoning most of Illyria to Macedon with definite ill grace…
A new Alexander
Meanwhile, with his back secured by the peace sworn with Ptolemaios IV, Antiochos III wastes no time ending the uneasy truce which had been prevailing with his rebel cousin Achaios. After an arduous but systematic campaign, he has him penned in the great fortress of Sardeis in Lydia by 214. A lengthy siege begins, from which the ever resourceful Sosibios tries to extract Achaios through the agency of a pair of Cretan agents. However, as the Ancient Greeks were wont to say, one should never trust a Cretan, let alone two, and a double cross results in a hopeful Achaios falling in the hands of his cousin, who has him promptly executed.
Next, Antiochos, more intent than ever to restore the full extent of the kingdom created by his ancestor Seleukos, campaigns decisively in Armenia, imposing a more compliant satrap, before embarking on extensive preparations for a great expedition in the Upper Satrapies. In 210, he expertly forces the passes of the Elburz mountains into Hyrkania and Parthyene, and quickly forces the submission of the Parthian king Arsakes.
The following year, he triumphs on the Arios river of the heavy cavalry of king Euthydemos of Bactria, and soon has him besieged in another great fortress, that of Baktra. However, forcing Euthydemos’s surrender proves more difficult than expected, and after more than two years, Antiochos and Euthydemos come to an agreement, recognizing Antiochos’s at least nominal suzerainty, and providing him with cash, elephants and Kataphraktoi (armored cavalry).
Antiochos then, consciously emulating Alexander’s exploits during his Anabasis (‘Voyage in the high interior’), returns to the West by way of Karmania and the Persian Gulf, claiming for himself the glorious epithet ‘Megas’ (‘the Great’) hitherto only bestowed on Alexander…
The Lagid Collapse
Antiochos’s return to the Mediterranean shores may have been prompted by information that Ptolemaios IV’s health was failing, meaning that the peace sworn between the two kings after Raphia was about to expire. Ptolemaios dies in 204, his death kept a secret for several months as his successor is only 6 years old. A ferocious struggle at the Alexandrian court results, with Sosibios and his ally Agathokles eliminating the queen-mother Arsinoe and sending many potential rivals away. Sosibios himself dies shortly therafter, leaving Agathokles sole regent, a responsibility he would soon prove woefully inadequate at…
While Ptolemaic officials try frantically to forestall war by attempting to seal a marriage alliance with Philippos of Macedon, he and Antiochos ready for war. In desperation, the Ptolemaic court tries an appeal to Rome, denouncing a conspiracy of Macedon and Syria to dismantle the Lagid empire, but Rome is not yet sufficiently interested in the affairs of the East, and too busy anyway with the final stages of the struggle against Hannibal to care.
In 202, Philippos launches a campaign with a large army and fleet in the region of the Straits between Europe and Asia, capturing many Ptolemaic-held cities, while Antiochos marches along the desert road and captures Damaskos. Soon, the toxic nature of the Lagid court is demonstrated again as another governor of Koile Syria, Ptolemaios son of Thraseas (no known relationship to the ruling dynasty) defects to Antiochos. In 200, after more frantic recruiting of mercenaries and the recalling of overseas garrisons, a Ptolemaic army under the Aitolian condottiere Skopas counterattacks in Koile Syria, but is utterly defeated at the battle of Panion by Antiochos, ably seconded by his grown-up sons.
In the Aegean, Philippos’s successes alarm Rhodes and Pergamon, who oppose him at sea. In 201, after an indecisive naval battle near Chios, Philippos finds himself stranded in Karia, where his army is supplied by Zeuxis, the Seleucid viceroy in Sardeis. The following year, he threatens Pergamon itself and pursues his seizing of Ptolemaic strongholds on both sides of the Straits.
The Second Macedonian War and the battle of Kynoskephalai
However, with Hannibal’s defeat at Zama in 202, and the ensuing surrender of Carthage, Rome’s energies are freed to, at long last, turn East and settle accounts with the king of Macedon. Seizing the pretext of a dispute between Athens and Philippos, Rome declares war in 200, promptly landing a full consular army in Illyria. While the legions probe Macedonian defenses in the interior, the fleet joins with Rhodes’s and Pergamon’s and lays to waste the major Macedonian base of Chalkis on the island of Euboia, one of the so-called ‘Fetters of Greece’. Arriving too late on the scene, Philippos vents his anger on Athens, but is soon compelled to withdraw to Makedonia to prepare it for war, leaving Roman envoys ply the Greek cities and leagues for support.
The following year, the Roman general Galba tries a decisive thrust from Apollonia up the Aous valley into Upper Makedonia, but is frustrated by Philippos’s skilled defense of the passes. In 198, a new Roman consul, T. Quinctius Flamininus arrives in Greece with veterans and tries another route, this time from Epeiros, with similar results. Flamininus hence shifts his focus to Thessalia through the lands of the Aitolians, whose alliance he renews, making a show of “freeing” Greek cities from Macedonian garrisons.
In 197, Philippos, feeling the pressure of northern barbarians, and seeing his support among the Greeks become more fragile by the day, tries to force a decision and seeks a decisive battle. He finds it in an unexpected manner at Kynoskephalai in Thessalia, where a meeting skirmish escalates into a full-blown battle. While initially successful, the Macedonian army is ultimately undone by Roman tactical flexibility on the rough terrain of the Kynoskephalai ridge and routs.
At the ensuing peace negotiations, Rome refuses to destroy Macedon, as urged by the Aitolians, but forces it to relinquish all its garrisons in Greece as well as control of Thessalia, which had been Macedonian for 150 years, since Philippos II’s reign. Philippos must also pay a heavy war indemnity and deliver his second son, Demetrios, as hostage. Flamininus refuses to install Roman garrisons in place of the Macedonian, and within a year all Roman troops are gone from Greece.
The Syrian War and the battle of Magnesia
While Philippos was learning to his expense the extent of the new threat coming from the West, Antiochos was leading follow-up campaigns by land and by sea to round up the remaining Ptolemaic possessions along the coast of Asia Minor, up to Ionia. When Philippos, hard pressed by the Romans, withdrew from the Straits, Antiochos moved in and was soon campaigning across the straits in Thrake. Once more, he appeared bent on restoring the full extent of the dominion of his glorious ancestor Seleukos Nikator. Maybe he should have been mindful of Seleukos’s fate once he crossed into Europe…
As Antiochos is busy campaigning against the wild Thracian tribes and restoring the ruined Greek cities on the European shore, a Roman delegation meets him and delivers an ultimatum, asking him to withdraw from Europe and to free the Greek cities of Asia. Unsurprisingly, the Great King is not ready to listen to such pretentions from Italian barbarians, though he is careful to avoid an immediate clash. Roughly at the same time, envoys of the Aitolians, still resentful of what they see as Roman ingratitude, bring him enticing promises of a warm welcome should he cross to Greece, which the envoys describe as wary of foreign hegemony…
Eventually, the temptation proves too great and Antiochos, known for his daring ways, rolls the dice in 192, taking ship with a picked contingent to cross the Aegean and land in Central Greece. He soon finds that the Aitolians are not quite able to fulfill all their promises, but he is nonetheless able to establish himself in Euboia, Boiotia and Thessalia before the winter. He even tweaks Philippos’s noise by making a show of giving proper burial to the Macedonian dead at Kynoskephalai which had apparently been laying in the open since the battle. This results in Philippos throwing his lot with the Romans…
Hubris Map, Year 192 BCE
The following year, Consul Acilius Glabrio arrives in Thessalia with an army, and is joined by Philippos, who uses this opportunity to retrieve many places in Thessalia. Antiochos, still without his main body of troops delayed by storms in their crossing from Asia, withdraws to the famous pass of the Thermopylai. There, the Aitolians prove unable to protect the flanking routes in the mountain, dooming the Seleucid force to a fate not dissimilar to Leonidas’s three centuries ago. Antiochos is however able to escape and join his main army in Asia.
While the Romans proceed to punish the Aitolians for what they perceive as treachery, the Roman fleet, reinforced by Rhodian and Pergamene squadrons, faces off against the Seleucid navy to try to gain control of the Straits crossings. The Seleucid admiral Polyxenidas, himself a Rhodian, manages to hold off the coalition’s navies for a number of months, but eventually succumbs to superior numbers. A bizarre episode occurs during that period when the famous Hannibal, who had, after being compelled to flee Carthage, found refuge at Antiochos’s court, is tasked by Antiochos to arm and lead a reinforcing fleet from Phenicia, only to be intercepted and beaten back by the Rhodians, proving less of a genius at sea than on land.
With the crossings to Asia secured, a reinforced Roman army led nominally by Consul Lucius Cornelius Scipio, brother to Hannibal’s nemesis Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus, who accompanies his brother as ‘advisor’, crosses in 190 from Thrake and relieves their ally king Eumenes II of Pergamon who was besieged in his high citadel. The allied army then moves South to Lydia where Antiochos awaits them on a field of his own choosing at Magnesia-near-the-Sipylon with an army drawn from his entire empire, totaling 72,000 men as well as elephants and even scythed chariots to oppose the Scipios’ 25,000 Romans and Pergamenes. Antiochos’s elite phalanx and heavy Kataphraktoi cavalry are initially successful, putting an entire legion to flight, but his unorthodox deployment of his elephants, mixed with the phalanx, eventually backfires, and Eumenes is able to force a decision on his wing, precipitating the rout of the vast Seleucid host. Recognizing his defeat, Antiochos agrees in 188 at the Peace of Apameia to evacuate all Asia Minor West of the Taurus mountains, which is promptly divided by Rome between his Pergamene and Rhodian allies.
Troubled successions
The following year, Antiochos is killed in a military adventure in Elymais in western Iran where he was trying to seize the treasures of a local sanctuary, probably to face the crushing war indemnities imposed by Rome. His eldest son, also named Antiochos, having disappeared under foggy circumstances some years before, he is succeeded by his second son Seleukos IV Philopator, while his third son Mithradates, renamed Antiochos after the death of his eldest brother, is hostage in Rome.
In Macedon, Philippos’s second son Demetrios has been released as a reward to his father’s good behavior during the war with Antiochos, but retains upon his return to the court at Pella strong ties to his new Roman friends. Soon, the Macedonian court splits between followers of Philippos’s eldest son Perseus, who favors confrontation with Rome, and those of the youngest son Demetrios, who preaches amity. The old king is torn but a conspiracy by Demetrios is uncovered and Philippos has his son killed. However, the whole affair is soon revealed to be a plot by Perseus. Heartbroken, Philippos considers disowning Perseus in favour of his cousin Antigonos, a relative of Dôsôn, but he dies before he can make it a reality. Perseus then moves swiftly to secure his hold on the throne, and soon engages into a major diplomatic effort to restore Macedonian standing in Greece.
In Egypt, the reign of young king Ptolemaios V has been marred by repeated coups to secure the regency and an enduring native rebellion in Upper Egypt, with native pharaohs ruling in Thebes, the old capital, for many years. It is only in 186 that Ankhwennefer, the last of these native pharaohs is captured by Komanos, a Galatian general in Lagid employ, completing the reconquest of Upper Egypt, though sporadic rebellions will keep popping up in the Delta for years.
In 180, Ptolemaios V is assassinated by courtiers who apparently feared that he was planning to confiscate their properties to finance a new Syrian War to recover Koile Syria. His widow Kleopatra (I) Syra, daughter of Antiochos III, becomes regent for their 6-years old son Ptolemaios VI Philometor (‘who loves his mother’), but dies in 176, prompting a new period of instability at the top of the Lagid kingdom.
That same year, Antiochos is replaced as hostage in Rome by Demetrios, the oldest son of Seleukos IV. With the support of Eumenes II of Pergamon, Antiochos soon seeks to destabilize the rule of his brother, who is assassinated the following year by his minister Heliodoros. A confused and bloody sequence of events in Antioch sees Antiochos prevailing as Antiochos IV Epiphanes (‘God manifest’).
Hubris Map, Year 176 BCE
The Third Macedonian War and the battle of Pydna
In Greece, the resurgence of Macedon under Perseus raises some disquiet in Rome, fed by the activism of king Eumenes II of Pergamon, who is worried that the young Macedonian king might seek in Asia Minor the aggrandizement denied to him in Greece by Roman guarantee of the Greek cities. Tensions ramp up after Eumenes escapes a possibly criminal rockslide while traveling through Delphi on his way back from Rome. Perseus’s envoys in Rome are unable to get heard, and when Roman troops are freed from an ongoing conflict in Spain, Rome proceeds to isolate Macedon diplomatically before declaring war on a flimsy pretext in 171.
However, decades of relative peace appear to have blunted the sharp edge of the Roman military machine, and the initial campaign by consul Publius Licinius Crassus in Thessalia meets near disaster at the hands of Perseus’s renewed army at the battle of Kallinikos. Perseus does not press his advantage, hoping for a peaceful settlement, but Rome will have nothing short of complete surrender. In 170, with the southern routes into Makedonia secured by Perseus, the new consul, A. Hostilius Mancinus, tries to force his way up the Aous valley, but is repulsed twice with heavy losses.
Impatience mounts in Rome, and the consul for 169, Marcus Philippus, takes care to reinforce and train his army before trying the Thessalian passes again, without more success. The following year, Lucius Aemilius Paullus, son of the consul killed at Cannae in 216, takes command and finally, through a freakish turn of events, manages to turn Perseus’s positions, leading to a decisive battle at Pydna. Again, initial success of the phalanx proves unsustainable, and Perseus must surrender.
This time, Rome proves unforgiving and dissolves the centuries-old Macedonian kingdom, breaking it up into four impotent republics. Perseus and his family are brought in chains to Rome to be exhibited at Aemilius’s triumph, and the last Antigonids then disappear from history…
The Sixth Syrian War and the Day of Eleusis
Meanwhile, the chronic instability of the Lagid court has reached new heights, with Ptolemaios VI’s younger brother, later known as Ptolemaios (VIII) Physkon (‘the Fat-bellied’) pushing for a share of power, splitting the court into two rival factions. The Ptolemaic court looks to a new war in Syria to restore a sense of unity, but in late 170, Antiochos IV, himself eager for glory to cement his rule, steals a march on the Ptolemaic army and crushes it in the Sinai. He then seizes Pelousion, the key to Egypt by ruse (or treason?), and immediately moves on the Delta.
A new coup puts Komanos, the victor of Ankhwennefer, and another general, Kineas, in power in Alexandria, while both rival Ptolemies enter negotiations with Antiochos, trying to make their case. Eventually, Ptolemaios VI recognizes Antiochos as his overlord, who grants him control of the territory under his control in Egypt. At the news, the populace in Alexandria rises in anger, proclaiming the younger Ptolemaios as sole king. While Antiochos blockades the city, Ptolemaios sends envoys to Rome pleading for help. Unable to capture the city before the winter, Antiochos returns to Syria to winter, leaving Ptolemaios VI in charge in the old capital of Memphis. However, Philometor promptly negotiates a reconciliation with his brother.
In the spring of 168, Antiochos sends a naval expedition to attack the Ptolemaic island of Kypros, destroying the Ptolemaic fleet and seizing the island, betrayed – once more – by its Ptolemaic governor. Meanwhile, Antiochos reenters Egypt with fire and sword and soon establishes a tight siege of Alexandria. After the Antigonids, the end of another Successor dynasty appears certain, when a Roman delegation headed by Caius Popilius Laenas, a friend of Antiochos’s from his time as a hostage in Rome, lands to meet the king on the beach of Eleusis, a suburb of Alexandria. As Antiochos walks to greet him, Popilius, reminding him of the recent fate of Perseus’s kingdom, demands he immediately evacuate all of Egypt. Taken aback, Antiochos tries to play for time, but Popilius draws with his stick a circle in the sand around the feet of the king, demanding an answer before he leaves this circle. Aghast, Antiochos submits and agrees to withdraw, putting an end to the war, and, beyond it, to the last hope of a Hellenistic kingdom standing up to Rome…
The agony of the Seleucid kingdom, fallen prey to unending dynastic struggles and progressively deprived of its rich Iranian and Mesopotamian provinces by the increasingly assertive power of the Parthians under king Mithradates I, would be prolongated until 63 when Pompey the Great deposed the last Seleucid pretenders, now reduced to squabble over Syria itself, as part of his campaign in the East. The kingdom of the Ptolemies would last 33 more years until its last queen, the famous Kleopatra VII Philopator, committed suicide after the failure of her bid to restore the grandeur of her kingdom through her alliance with Marcus Aurelius, but apart for this last flareup, it had become effectively a Roman vassal since this fateful day at Eleusis in 168…
Now that you have read through this overview of the history of the twilight decades of the Hellenistic kingdoms, you have surely realized that the actions of individual kings, generals and diplomats are driving the narrative of the period. Accordingly, Hubris’s game engine is built around these leaders, as I am going to present in the next installment of these Histories…
In William Shakespeare’s Richard III, the eponymous character is described as physically deformed and a psychopathic villain. Was this the truth or Tudor era propaganda?
Shakespeare has these lines in the play depicting Richard as deformed in body:
“To help thee curse this poisonous bunch-backed toad.”
“O, thou didst prophesy the time would come that I should wish for thee to help me curse that bottled spider, that foul bunch-backed toad!”
“Look how I am bewitched! Behold mine arm is like a blasted sapling withered up”
Old Bill is clearly saying that Richard is a hunchback, much like Quasimodo from the Victor Hugo novel, or the Disney movie, take your pick. And that one of Richard’s arms was withered and wasted. In 2012, archaeologists found and exhumed King Richard III from a car park (parking lot in America) in Leicester, England. The site was formerly part of Greyfriars Priory where the fallen King was buried after his death at Bosworth. An analysis of the skeleton showed that Richard had a severe case of Scoliosis, which at most would have caused one of his shoulders to lower than the other. There was no evidence of the “withered arm” mentioned in the play.
As far as Richard being a psychopathic villain that murdered his brother George, Duke of Clarence, his nephews (the infamous princes in the tower), among others. Richard had served his brother, Edward, well as the Duke of Gloucester, helping him win his crown and become King Edward IV. George was executed for treason and likely “deserved” it, for turning on both Edward and Richard several times. As for the princes, there is much debate about what became of them and who ordered what. The designer of Blood & Roses, Richard Berg, clearly believed that his namesake was a not responsible for their disappearance. There is some evidence that the bones found in the Tower of London were not those of the princes. Politics in England during this time period was a little rougher, to say the least, than it is today. More on par with Soviet Russia, where people suddenly disappeared and were erased from history.
Bosworth, one of the more important battles in English history, wherein, Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, defeated King Richard III and gained the English crown for the House of Tudor (political descendants of the House of Lancaster) as Henry VII.
Battle of Bosworth, as depicted by Philip James de Loutherbourg (1740–1812)
But more than that, Bosworth is interesting for two reasons:
• It is the only battle on English soil in which an English king was killed (if one starts counting from the reign of William I)
• It is a rather interesting situation, with each side waiting to see which way the political and tactical wind will blow, and two “Battles” of Stanley’s sitting athwart the field, like soccer fans, waiting to weigh in for whoever looks good.
Richard Berg was a Ricardian, meaning he was pro-Richard amidst all of the Tudorian propaganda out there, much of it thanks to Shakespeare (doing a spin job for the Tudors). Richard, for one, was a most stalwart and capable battlefield commander and fighter, and was unfairly smeared as a hunchback because of his scoliosis of the spine… and a pretty good king while he ruled.
Some of the historical text above was lifted from the Men of Iron Battle Book’s Historical Background for the Battle of Bosworth.
You can learn more or pre-order the Men of Iron Tri-Pack 2nd Printing here.
This is the second in a series of InsideGMT articles from Paul Hellyer about his board game Tsar, currently on GMT’s P500. You can view the first article here.
As part of Nicholas II’s coronation in 1896, the Tsarist regime planned an event to placate the common people of Moscow: a giveaway of food, kvass, and souvenirs at the fairgrounds known as Khodynka Fields. By early morning, hundreds of thousands of people had already gathered in eager anticipation. As often happened, the government’s plans were incompetent. The number of police on hand was woefully inadequate and the terrain dangerously uneven. When rumors of a shortage circulated, the crowd surged forward, people began to stumble and fall into ditches, and mounted police were swept along with them. Within minutes, 1,300 people were crushed to death. That evening, Nicholas attended a ball as scheduled, leaving the impression he was indifferent. The “Khodynka Tragedy” (or “Khodynka Massacre” as some called it) became a symbol of the regime’s callousness. People took it as a sign that Nicholas’s reign was cursed.
In the game, a Coded Card recreates this event at a fixed point in time. In the first round of 1896 (the winter Quarter), players get an instruction to seed this card in the game board’s “Q+2” slot, meaning it will be played two Quarters later, in summer 1896. The card is viewable at any time so players can plan for it. Like all the events in Tsar, Public Banquet on Khodynka Fields presents a mix of historical reality and player agency: the event might unfold as it did in real life or, through careful planning, the players might achieve a happier outcome. To avoid the tragedy, players need a competent government (as measured by the Total Adviser Rating in the red circle) and at least 2 Gold (to buy adequate supplies).
These requirements are not particularly difficult to achieve, but like the real-life regime, players will be distracted by their own factional ambitions, which exist in tension with the need for responsible government. Will you appoint the most competent advisors, or prioritize your own Faction’s Characters to maximize power for yourself? Will you leave enough Gold for this event, or spend it on your Faction’s scoring goals? One player has an immediate incentive to avoid disaster: the player who controls the Tsar’s current “Favorite” Character. The Favorite occupies an asymmetric role in the game, with enhanced authority over government appointments and scheduling, but with the burden of personal responsibility for setbacks. If the Khodynka tragedy occurs, the Tsar will direct his anger at the Favorite, as represented by the yellow “Favor -2” icon shown on the card. The other players in the game might also want to avoid destabilizing the regime or, if they’re in a more aggressive mood, might deliberately maneuver toward disaster to unseat the Favorite. These factional problems drive the game’s strategy as well as its simulation of the weak government that plagued Russia in the Tsarist period.
The Port Arthur Coded Card is another example of a card based on a specific historical event. After winning the First Sino-Japanese War (1894-95), Japan forced China to cede Port Arthur, a strategic port city in northwest China known today as Dalian. This move alarmed the Tsar, who coveted Port Arthur for its year-round, ice-free access to the Pacific Ocean. With support from France and Germany, Russia pressured Japan to give up its claims to Port Arthur, supposedly out of concern for Chinese territorial integrity. Next, Russia shamelessly grabbed Port Arthur for itself by pressuring China to sign a long-term “lease.” Japan was infuriated, and this incident became a key cause of the 1904-05 Russo-Japanese War.
The Port Arthur Card has several functional differences as compared to Khodynka Fields. The latter card applies one of two possible outcomes based on current conditions without giving players any choice—although it does depend on choices players made before resolving the card. Port Arthur, however, is a Council Decision with two numbered options: as long as players meet the requirements for Option 2, they may choose between the two options. The choice is made collectively through a simple bidding process using Influence Cubes (we’ll discuss decision mechanics in more detail in a later article). Tsar uses a mix of condition-type cards like Khodynka Fields and decision-type cards like Port Arthur, but either way events always have alternate outcomes, ranging from two to six different possibilities.
Although Port Arthur is initially seeded at a fixed point in time (Winter 1896), it can be reintroduced through the randomly-drawn Era Card The Kaiser, so that if players fail to secure Option 2 on their first attempt, they might get a second chance later in the game. This is why Port Arthur’sOUTLOOK instruction for Option 1 tells players to return the card to its deck (so that it can be drawn again), while the OUTLOOK instruction for Option 2 tells players to remove the card from the game (so that players can’t seize Port Arthur twice). Likewise, The Kaiser’s Option 1 removes the card but Option 2 leaves intact the default discard rule for Era Cards. Many cards have distinctions like this in their OUTLOOK fields, so that the game can distinguish between outcomes that might recur and outcomes that can happen only once.
Another difference compared to Khodynka Fields is that Port Arthur is a scoring goal for the Autocracy and Pragmatism Factions, so this card is more likely to provoke a struggle in multiplayer games. But like all scoring goals in the game, seizing Port Arthuralso contributes some non-scoring benefits: it boosts Russia’s Trade Capacity, raises Navy Morale, and increases Popular Support in the Bourgeoisie Sector. It also avoids the Favor penalty that comes with Option 1. These other features give non-scoring players something to consider: in a solitaire game, Dynasty or Reform players might still want Option 2, and in a multiplayer game, they might dial back their opposition.
Aside from its immediate effects, Port Arthur also impacts the game’s narrative direction and legacy-style play. The “Japan -2” effect means that Russia’s relations with Japan are dropping by two points, putting Russia and Japan closer to war. You still have a chance to avoid war through diplomatic maneuvers or by shoring up your defenses, but otherwise, seizing Port Arthur means you will fight the Russo-Japanese War in Era II. (Each Era is played as a separate game in a legacy style, with Era II bifurcated into peacetime and wartime tracks.) This is one of the clearest examples of the way your choices in Tsar can change history.
Tsar’s Coded Card and Q-Slot system can also support longer-term, multi-stage events such as Trans-Siberian Railway. During Era I setup, you’ll place this Coded Card in the active Hand that players share; if players choose Option 1 (“Begin work . . .”), they’ll have a chance to apply Option 2 and complete a stage of the railway two Quarters later. At that point, the card will be reseeded in the Q+4 slot, so that work on the next stage can begin one year later. This card will remain in play until the railway’s three stages are complete. Aside from advancing the players’ scoring goals for Industrialization and Grain Production, Trans-Siberian Railway also alters the historical story, albeit in a more subtle way than Port Arthur. This card is one of many that shape the game’s economic history, which in turn affects the regime’s ability to project its power and survive. When war arrives, you will find the outcome depends on Russia’s infrastructure, economy, and political stability.
Many other events in Tsar are generated randomly through the shuffled Era Decks. These decks include “All Era” cards that mostly feature generic, repeatable events like Drought and The Tsar Greets a Crowd, mixed together with Era-specific cards like Bosnian Crisis (Era III), Greco-Turkish War (Era I), and Maxim Gorky (Era III). Because they are shuffled randomly, the timing of these cards is unknown and they may not be drawn at all. This enhances the variability of the game and gives players a mix of long-term planning goals and short-term opportunities. The more problematic events in the “Unrest” and “Famine” decks are also shuffled randomly, but these are drawn only under certain conditions. (Drought is one example of how a Famine Card might be triggered.)
The game also includes many events that never happened in history, but might have happened. During the Russo-Japanese War, the British Empire came very close to entering the war on the side of its ally Japan—and in this game, that can happen if you don’t manage your relations with Britain carefully enough. Other alternate histories include political reforms that Nicholas II rejected in real life, Russian control of the Turkish Straits (see the Coded Card above), a military alliance with Germany, and construction of the Moskva-Volga Canal. That last one is something that actually occurred later (during the Stalinist period), and there are a few other features in the game that draw their inspiration from post-1917 events.
In the next InsideGMT article in this series, we’ll examine how Tsar’s game engine simulates the regime’s stability and the possibility of revolution.
As seen on TV, or at least in the movie Kingdom of Heaven, the Leper King Baldwin IV of Jerusalem was a striking figure in a silver mask to hide his leprosy. There is no evidence that Baldwin IV wore a mask, though he suffered from disfigurement of his face and limbs as his disease advanced. When he was young, he was considered quite handsome, though sometime after ascending the throne at around the age of thirteen his leprosy accelerated. How disfigured he was at the time of Montgisard is unclear with some sources saying he was unable to lead the army and others saying he was at the head of it. What is known is that six years later he could not walk unaided and was blind.
King Baldwin in Kingdom of Heaven (2005)
Baldwin was thirteen when he ascended the throne and a regent was appointed. When he reached the age of fifteen and was King without a regent, he planned an invasion of the Ayyubbid Kingdom of Egypt. He had some success against Saladin in 1176, but needed ships to besiege the port cities along the coast. He formed a short-lived alliance with Byzantium that fell apart before they could make headway in the invasion.
While the army of Jerusalem was engaged in the north helping Raymond of Tripoli attack Hama, Saladin planned his own invasion of the Kingdom of Jerusalem from Egypt. Learning of Saladin’s plans, Baldwin IV, a teenager with leprosy but a most able commander, left Jerusalem with, according to William of Tyre, only 375 knights to attempt a defense at Ascalon, but Baldwin was stalled there by a detachment of troops sent by Saladin, who, again according to William of Tyre, had 26,000 men. Accompanying Baldwin was Raynald of Chatillon, Lord of Oultrejordain, who had just been released from captivity in Aleppo in 1176. Raynald was a fierce enemy of Saladin, and was the effective commander of the army, with King Baldwin too ill to command it personally.
The Christians, led by the King, pursued the Muslims along the coast, finally catching their enemies at Montgisard near Ramla. Saladin was taken totally by surprise. His army was in disarray, out of formation and tired from a long march. The Islamic army, in a state of panic, scrambled to make battle lines against the enemy. As Saladin’s army rushed to prepare, Baldwin began the charge across the sand.
The Jerusalem army smashed into the hurriedly arranged Muslims, inflicting huge casualties. The King, fighting with bandaged hands to cover his terrible wounds and sores, was in the thick of the fighting and Saladin’s men were quickly overwhelmed. They tried to flee but hardly any escaped. Saladin himself only avoided capture by escaping on a racing camel. Only one tenth of his army made it back to Egypt with him.
The historical text above was lifted from the Infidel Battle Book’s Historical Background for the Battle of Montgisard. In the game, the Army of Jerusalem is only 10 units arrayed against 65 Ayyubid units. That sounds like it should be a one-side loss for Jerusalem, but the Ayyubid army begins in complete disarray and within Charge range of the Knights!
(Note that the stream and hill in the image is ignored for the Battle of Montgisard)
You can learn more or pre-order the Men of Iron Tri-Pack 2nd Printing here.