The battle begins to reach what might be termed, in anywhere other than Fenwick, as its climax. (Below) The main infantry lines exchange repeated rounds of musketry. Attempts by both commanders to rally their forces manage to prevent the damage becoming catastrophic.
Alas for Furst Augustus, however, his need to focus on sustaining the morale of his infantry means he has no time to think about his cavalry, the lead regiment of which is also under small arms fire. The casualties mount amongst the Rotenburg horse, and the unit finally quits the field (below).
In the contest between the infantry, however, things begin to turn the Rotenburg way. Perhaps having lost his lucky dice (or having had them hidden by his adversary), Marshal Cavendish finds that his troops seem to have lost some of their resilience. After a particularly impressive volley by their adversaries, one of the imperial units breaks (below).
Alas for the Furst, sustaining momentum is not the Rotenburg way of war, which instead tends towards disappointing tail-offs accompanied by the sound of breaking wind. Almost immediately, Fenwickian volleys rout another of the floppy ne'er do wells that seem to constitute the Rotenburg line infantry. However, in the heat of the battle, one of the badly disordered imperial regiments decides to make an unauthorised charge (below). On the verge of disintegration, and up against a Rotenburg regiment that is still fresh, success for the over-confident attackers is unlikely: although, given the strange shape of the Fenwickian dice, anything is possible.
It is a moment of drama. Not a great drama, of course: less action-adventure and more romantic comedy with foreign sub-titles. As the imperials charge in roaring, the Rotenburgers wait grimly, hoping to drive them off.
A staff officer suddenly rides up to Furst Augustus. 'My lord - I have thought of a cunning ruse that may well finally turn the tide of this battle!'
'Really?' says Augustus with considerable interest.
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