Mystic Britain is my current
Midgard campaign set in
Arthurian Britain in the late
5th century. The background to that campaign, including the main factions in this alternative history, can be found
here.
From the Annals of Caer Sulis as recorded by Brother Ashelm "
In the year of our Lord 495, in the season when the hawthorn blooms white as bone, the shadow of the Dûrlingar fell upon our land. Hengst the Grim had crossed the waters from Vectis with fire in his heart and slaughter in his wake. The fords would run red ere summer came, and many a mother's son would find his rest beneath the cold river stones."
Spring of Blood: The Campaign Begins
Mystic Britain stands as a land fractured by competing loyalties and shifting allegiances. The coming war will test whether
Arthur can unite these diverse forces against the encroaching darkness of the Dûrlingar—those fell creatures who have replaced the
Jutes in our history's unfolding. The outcome promises to reshape the destiny of this turbulent realm.
For my inaugural campaign, I've chosen to play through "Modred's Coming of Age," set in the fateful spring of 495 AD. The previous years had witnessed increased Dûrlingar activity along the southern coast, but spring brought something far more ominous. Hengst, chieftain of the dark dwarves, crossed from Vectis with his host and established a fortified camp at Noviomagus (Chichester).
Arthur's spies brought word swiftly, and the British king understood immediately—this would be no mere raid. The months that followed would determine who wore the crown and whether the Britons would survive as a people.
First Moves
The campaign opened with Hengst dispatching his sons, Oasric and Penda, to secure a crossing over the Avon. Their orders were clear: find a ford, hold it, and prepare the way for the primary host. There, they would rendezvous with the traitor Modred and his men to launch a coordinated assault on Arthur's stronghold at
Aquae Sulis.
When word of Hengst's advance reached Arthur, he responded with characteristic decisiveness. He dispatched his most loyal lieutenant, Sagramoor, to harry the crossing and deny the enemy their bridgehead. The Battle of the Bloody Ford
From the Chronicle of Camlann"At
the Bloody Ford did Sagramoor stand, with water to his knees and resolve in his heart. The Dûrlingar came in their hundreds, axes gleaming like winter stars, and the river that ran clear at dawn ran crimson ere the sun reached noon."The campaign's opening engagement proved cautious on both sides. Neither commander wished to commit—and potentially lose—his best troops so early in the fighting season. The headstrong Galahad chafed at this restraint, eager to carry the fight to the enemy. Sagramoor eventually placated him with a compromise: Galahad would lead his cavalry across the river with all speed to threaten the Dûrlingar left flank, a role the young warrior embraced with enthusiasm and no small skill.
The Lines Clash
The British advance proved ponderous, and both armies suffered from poor coordination as their battle lines fragmented in the ford's treacherous currents. When the Britons finally launched their assault across the river, they achieved initial success—but the Dûrlingar line held. Then the berserkers struck, their axes carving through the British ranks and driving the attackers back across the bloodied waters.
On the British right, Galahad's cavalry had pulled the Dûrlingar line dangerously out of position as it wheeled to face the mounted threat. Rather than charging home, Galahad's riders unleashed their javelins and retired, leaving frustration and gaps in the enemy formation. The engagement remained inconclusive.
Galahad threatens the Dûrlingar lines.
The Death of Morfans the Ugly
As combat raged along the entire front, the Dûrlingar hero Ulfharlar threw himself into the melee, bellowing a challenge to Morfans. The armies parted as if by mutual consent, and the two champions stood alone in the stream, sword and axe at ready.
What followed was brutal and swift. Morfans charged with characteristic aggression, but Ulfharlar stood planted like an oak in the river's current. As the Briton champion Pellinor leap
t to deliver his blow, the dwarf's axe found its mark in his opponent's side. The fight ended almost before it began. The Dûrlingar roared their approval and surged forward.
Morfans's death broke the spirit of the Britons around him. The Dûrlingar pushed them back across the river and gained a crucial flank overlap. The berserkers exacted a terrible toll on the British levies as the dwarven army surged forward. But on the right flank, fortune favoured the Britons. Galahad's cavalry continued to sow chaos without committing to melee, pinning the extreme left of the Dûrlingar line while British infantry closed on both front and flank. It became clear that this flank would soon collapse. The battle had become a race—victory would go to whichever side could break the opposing flank first.
After the Battle
A cautious engagement where both commanders held back their elite forces, unwilling to risk them so early in the campaign. The heroes showed less restraint, throwing themselves into desperate melees. Morfans paid the ultimate price—the only fatality among the champions. The battle also demonstrated the importance of Romano-British cavalry, a tactical advantage Hengst and his sons would need to counter in battles to come.
The Battle of Two Fords
From the Annals of Caer Sulis:
"Twice did the rivers drink deep of Dûrlingar blood, and twice did brave Sagramoor harry them south. Yet pride oft goes before the fall, and the ravens whispered warnings that went unheeded."Following his victory at the Bloody Ford, Sagramoor pursued the retreating Dûrlingar southward. Osric realised his surprise attack had failed utterly. To advance further, he would need reinforcements. He dispatched his brother Penda with the wounded back to their father's camp while he prepared to buy time by holding the Fords of Arun.
Soon, Sagramoor's battle lines emerged from the northern hills and woodlands.
Sagramoor had gained a powerful ally—Merlin himself had joined his retinue. The wizard proved cautious, warning that the ravens showed unfavourable omens until noon. But Sagramoor needed to maintain pressure on the retreating enemy. He ordered his army forward despite Merlin's warnings, placing his elite household troops, the
comitatus, at the vanguard to storm both fords simultaneously.
Fortune smiled on the Britons, aided by Osric's poor tactical decisions. Still intent on preserving his best troops, the dwarf commander deployed his warbands in mixed bow-and-spear formations, hoping to blunt the British attack before committing his elite housecarls. The strategy failed spectacularly. The narrow chokepoints of the fords prevented Osric from correcting his deployment error once battle was joined.
The Dûrlingar warriors proved no match for the British comitatus. They were pushed back into their own housecarls, creating chaos in the dwarven ranks. The Dûrlingar line held briefly, but the warrior formations began to crumble under the relentless British advance. So, on both fronts, the defences collapsed almost simultaneously as British reserves moved forward to support the assault.
The Dûrlingar Warriors are no match for the Briton Elites
The Challenge
In desperation, Ulfharlar challenged a British champion to single combat, hoping to buy time for a retreat. His challenge was accepted, but this tim,e luck abandoned the dwarf hero. He fell into the blood-red river, adding his own lifeblood to the waters.
Osric, recognising that both fording points were lost beyond recovery, ordered a withdrawal. Rather than retreating directly to his father's main camp, he chose to follow the old Roman road to the coastal town, hoping to regroup and receive reinforcements there.
The Battle of the Old Road
Sagramoor, flush with victory, decided not to wait for support. He occupied the hills beyond the coast, positioning his army to block any Dûrlingar movement inland. Here he would await reinforcements before launching his final assault. But in this decision, he surrendered the initiative.
Osric, now reinforced by the young pretender Modred—Arthur's cousin and, to many, the rightful king—prepared to counterattack. Modred brought cavalry with him, providing the scouting and flank protection the Dûrlingar desperately needed. More ominously, Osric had gained supernatural aid: ancient, unknown warriors from ages past, ghostly shapes filled with relentless hunger for destruction. These undead would lead the assault.
From Brother Aldhelm's Chronicle:
"On that day, God and fortune both turned their faces from the righteous. The dead walked, and the living fell before them like wheat before the scythe. Even brave Galahad, unhorsed and with his standard in the dust, could not turn the tide. Sagramoor learned that victory's sister is often defeated, and they are twins who walk hand in hand."Some days, luck simply abandons you. The gods turn away, and Lady Fortune shows her cruel face. This was such a day for Sagramoor.
As the undead crashed into the British lines, his men seemed to lose all will to fight. Shockingly poor fortune drove them backwards onto their supporting ranks. With limited room to manoeuvre between the hills, the Britons found themselves trapped and unable to seize the initiative. Slowly but inexorably, they were pushed back off the right-hand hill where their main force crumbled.
Death Arrives Causing Panic Amongst the Britons
In desperation, Galahad led his cavalry in a crushing charge against the Dûrlingar right wing, driving them back. For a moment, it seemed the tide might turn. But then disaster struck—Galahad was unhorsed, his standard falling to the ground. With that sight, British morale shattered completely.
The day was lost. All that remained was to extract the surviving forces and regroup. As June passed into the hot summer months, the Dûrlinga once again held the initiative.
Observations from the Spring Campaign
These three battles revealed important tactical lessons:
The first engagement demonstrated the crucial value of light cavalry. Galahad's horsemen crossed the ford before the battle lines closed, becoming a constant thorn in the Dûrlingar flank—threatening, harrying, disrupting—without ever committing to decisive combat.
The second battle exposed the dangers of poor deployment. Osric's mixed formations failed to achieve their intended purpose, and the confined battlespace prevented him from adjusting his strategy once combat began. The engagement was lost before it truly started.
The third battle proved that even a strong position and a winning streak guarantee nothing. Luck can be a faithless mistress. Perhaps Sagramoor should have had a contingency plan, but the day simply belonged to the Dûrlingar—they owned the dice godsfavour or completely.
One observation applies to all three spring battles: the campaign system encouraged commanders to carefully husband their elite and limited forces. The fact that Osric lost a unit of housecarls and a berserker band at the Bloody Ford may have unconsciously influenced his overly cautious deployment at Rwo Fords.
From the Chronicle of Camlann:
"Thus passed the spring of blood, and summer came with its heat and its harvest of sorrow. The Dûrlingar, emboldened by their victory at the Old Road, marched up the ancient Roman way toward Arthur's very capital. The true test was yet to come."
Now the summer season has begun, and the Dûrlingar once again hold the initiative, marching up the old Roman road toward Arthur's capital at Aquae Sulis. The fate of Britain hangs in the balance.
The chronicler's ink runs dry here, but the war continues. More tales of blood and valour await the telling…
