The Impossible Victory was a famed, large-scale skirmish that followed the Battle of Montfort, fought between a very small group of Bretonnian knights led by Sir Tristan the Troubadour and Imperial forces remaining from the earlier battle.[1]
The battle is famed in Bretonnia for Tristan's victory, which was won against seemingly impossible odds, as the Bretonnian knights were heavily outnumbered by their Imperial foes.[1]
History[]
Immediately after the Empire's crushing defeat at the Battle of Montfort, Tristan the Troubadour set off to bring one of their allies, the traitorous Sir Artrenic, to justice. For two days Tristan and his fellows rode deep into Axe Bite Pass. Despite their exhaustion, they halted only when their steeds could travel no further, for they could little afford for their quarry to increase his lead.[1]
All about them as they rode were the discarded weapons of the army that had passed that way, halberds, arquebuses and even cannons abandoned as the shattered Imperial army wound its way back across the pass. At the foot of Mount Bestanroc the route was choked with corpses and awash with the blood of Bretonnian and Reiklander alike, evidence of a vicious battle between von Abresicht's rearguard and the pursuing Yeomen and Knights Errant. In all this time no sign was to be seen of Artrenic, and even Tristan's high spirits began to fail.[1]
At noon on the third day, just as Tristan and his fellows were on the brink of abandoning their pursuit, Jules the Jester, perched behind Tristan, caught sight of the renegade knight they pursued. Moments later he vanished out of sight once more, concealed by a rise in the terrain.[1]
Their hope renewed, the Questing Knights spurred forward with fresh vigour, for Artrenic was no more than two or three miles ahead, and his steed could have been no less tired than those of his pursuers. As they crested the rise, their hope was quashed once more. In front of them, between the shoulders of the mountains that bracketed the path, nestled the rearguard of von Abresicht's army, formed for battle with the traitor knight secure within their ranks. It seemed that Tristan's quest was over, for against the scores of handgunners and halberdiers that awaited them a dozen of Bretonnia's warriors could not hope to emerge victorious.[1]
It was in that moment that fate capriciously changed direction once more -- or possibly the Lady of the Lake, taking pity on Tristan's plight, intervened -- for coming back down the pass, from the direction of the Reikland, rode a troop of Knights Errant who had somehow found themselves between the rearguard and their destination. Curious though this occurrence was, it did nothing to assuage Tristan's sense of failure. Even with these new arrivals to aid them, Tristan's knights could not hope to defeat the Reiklanders and cut their way to Artrenic.[1]
No sooner had these thoughts touched his mind when a great cry went up from the Knights Errant. Without apparent regard for the odds against them, the unblooded knights spurred forwards toward their foe. Possibly they knew not the futility of their cause, though it was equally possible that they did not care, so frustrated were they by the long days of pursuit. Whatever the cause, honour dictated that Tristan and his companions could not stand idly by, even though the charge of the foolhardy Knights Errant was almost certainly a doomed one. Without a single word spoken, the Questing Knights lowered their helms and headed towards the foe.[1]
What followed next is now celebrated in song and tale across the length and breadth of Bretonnia. Scarce two-score knights, riding against four times their number, Tristan and his companions should have been slaughtered to a man. It is true that many did fall, plucked from their saddles by cowardly pistols and arquebuses as they charged home, and others were trampled in the death throes of their own steeds.[1]
Yet as the blades and lances of the Bretonnian knights bit into the enemy line, the bristling tips of halberds and spears were cast to the ground and the enemy began to run, fearful of the howling madmen who seemingly cared not for the rashness of their attack. In an eye-blink, Tristan's charge was transformed from an act of desperate hope to a shattering victory.[1]
Sources[]
- 1: White Dwarf 303, "In Pursuit of a Traitor"