The Battle of Nishawa: Part 3

What is there to say about the battle of Nishawa that hasn’t already been said? Nonetheless, fact and myth about this fateful event have become inexorably intertwined over the years, so a short overview is in order. The reader will understand that my role in the battle was that of a mere soldier, so a lot of the information about the bigger picture does not come from my personal experience. The aforementioned bigger picture is, however, crucial in understanding the minor part I played in it. I have, thus, elected to describe the overall flow of the battle, based as much as possible on eyewitness accounts. For the reader who wishes to know more, a comprehensive and authentic account of the entire war can be found in The Eastern Campaign of King Philoctetes of Manea by Uchitel Sweznah, who was a logistics officer at the time.

Our scouts first spotted each other near the banks of Nishawa. Arthacyros’s army probably crossed the river further to the south, as the banks were less steep and the currents slower there. Realizing the battle was afoot, both armies set up and prepared for battle.

The enemy holed up on a hill near the river. This was a good defensive position, with the massive disadvantage of having no obvious escape route. There was little doubt, however, that the necromancer had magical means of getting away himself, and he was never known to care much about the lives of his men. On the other hand, we made a quick encampment in the relatively open terrain, as our opponents seemed intent on waiting for us to attack.

At a quick glance, our army seemed to have an advantage when it came to composition. We were slightly outnumbered, but a good number of the enemy soldiers were the tough yet slow undead. The only standouts were the couple of dozen flesh golems, towering over the rest of the troops. Our cavalry was both more numerous and better equipped than theirs, and while their sorcerers outclassed ours, our vastly superior artillery would allow them to focus on defensive spells.

There was one thing preventing us from getting more accurate information on the enemy, though. In a move Arthacyros had oft made in the past, he brought with him two large black carts, sealed carefully from all sides. Inside them were two abominable spawn of the Old Ones, chained up and sealed with powerful magic. They couldn’t directly affect the battle, as not even the all-powerful necromancer could reliably control them, but their very presence near the battlefield made our diviners and remote viewers go hysterical at best and raving mad at worst.

In spite of this setback, the morale in our camp was still high. Our enemy’s defensive approach feels like a tacit admission of our superiority. “Arthacyros must’ve gotten cold feet after seeing the might of our army”, seemed to be the prevailing sentiment among the soldiers, who were getting primed for an all-out assault.

Preoccupied by his thirst for vengeance as he was, King Philoctetes did not become stupid enough to risk such a direct attack. Instead, he ordered his light cavalry to pester the enemy position with hit-and-run attacks, while the artillery moved into position to try and unnerve them with, at this distance, rather inaccurate, cannon fire. Thus, I found myself among the first in actual combat.

Our company was among those assigned to our left flank, harassing the opposing army from their right. We moved out in a scattered formation to decrease the effectiveness of any magical counterattack that the enemy might mount. Approaching as close to the main body of their army as we dared, we fired a few salvos and then retreated. Our comrades on the right flank hit them at that moment, and we began alternating attacks from each side to keep the pressure on while leaving the enemy with as little time as possible to respond.

For the first few salvos, they didn’t manage much aside from a few ineffective potshots at us, then magical bombardment began. Our loose formation lessened their effectiveness, but we started taking casualties nonetheless. Among those taken out was Captain Nixon, whose injuries were thankfully non-lethal. A huge detonation next to him knocked his hadrosaur down, and Spiridon’s leg got stuck beneath the beast. When he got out, he turned out to be in no condition to stand or ride, so he was escorted back to camp while a Lieutenant named Clarissa Augusta took command.

By that time, our wizards and artillery got into position too, providing us with some cover. His hand forced, Arthacyros ordered his infantry to advance, shambling bodies of the undead animated by the elite sorcerers in front of the regular troops. Meanwhile, their cavalry charged out to engage us.

King Philoctetes sent out his infantry too, while keeping the heavy cavalry, bolstered by a large contingent of the Defenders of Afrain, in reserve. There was no use sending shock troops against the unfeeling hordes of the dead. They would wait until a path to actual enemy soldiers was clear, driving into them like a wedge and hopefully breaking their morale.

Our soldiers began engaging the undead from afar. During most of the previous war, firearms were not particularly effective against the walking dead until large-caliber guns with explosive ammunition were first introduced. Soldiers armed with these marched in the first line until we approached the melee range. When they got close, several others fired their hand cannons loaded with grapeshot, and then our infantry charged into melee. This put our side at an initial advantage, as the undead lacked any ranged weapons at all, but while a solid number of them got taken out, they were still more than a formidable threat.

In the meantime, Arthacyros seemed to have launched the entirety of his mounted troops at us, including the few cataphracts he had at his disposal. This heavy cavalry was nowhere near mobile enough to actually catch up to us, and as soon as their mounts were exhausted, they were sitting ducks. The lighter mobile troops fared quite better, in particular due to the quality of the battlemages who were riding among them. They were putting up a decent fight, preventing us from attacking their infantry from the flank, but the battle seemed to be slowly going in our favor, and the only thing the enemy’s efforts were accomplishing was stalling for time.

So, when a thick, unnatural mist suddenly enveloped the battlefield, our soldiers assumed it was just another attempt to do the same.