Biblical Warfare at Attack! 2025
Assyrian vs Another Assyrian
Game 1 Assyrian vs Classical Indian
Game 3 Assyrian vs Later Assyrian Empire & Sargonid
And so, the final chapter of this four-battle saga at Attack! 2025 was upon us.
The extended lunch break after the decisive morning clash had afforded me ample time to feast upon a van-grade burger of indeterminate species and wander the trade stands like a jaded noble surveying the spoils of empire.
Thus refreshed — or at least moderately greased — I steeled myself to face the infamous Assyrian King Dickaleth-Hashdod, Cunning Vizier of the Nineveh Left Hook with yet another treacherous incarnation of the Assyrian war machine in the shape of the weirdly-equipped Assyrian army of the semi-mythical Queen Semmiramis!
The Assyrian Queen Semiramis faced many enemies who quailed at the sight of elephants — but alas, the empire had none. Unperturbed, she ordered her generals to saddle camels in great blankets and padded armour, shaping them into a silhouette that, at least in poor light and from a safe distance, might pass for the fearsome pachyderm.
As the years passed, her experiments grew more… creative. There were trials of ostriches disguised as giant falcons (“for aerial reconnaissance”), goats dressed as lions (“morale weapon”), and one ill-fated project involving hippopotamuses and stilts (“to menace coastal cities”).
Had her reign lasted longer, historians speculate she might have fielded an entire “mythical corps” of centaur-rams, swan-buffaloes, and a single ferret disguised as a hydra. Alas, the Assyrian budget—and the patience of her camel wranglers—finally collapsed, ending one of history’s most ambitious chapters in battlefield zoological deception.
The lists for the Assyrian and Queen Semiramis' Assyrian from this game, as well as all the other lists from the games at Attack can be seen here in the L'Art de la Guerre Wiki.
The battlefield stretched out like a clenched fist, narrow and unforgiving, hemmed in by the coastline on my left and choked with forests and rough hills.
It was as if the gods themselves wished to see two rival Assyrian claimants battle for supremacy not on the open plains, but in the craggy uplands of Anatolia — a place more suited to goat-herding than grand strategy.
With too many troops and too little open ground in which to fight, and as it was the last game of the weekend and I'd not tried this in the previous three battles, I immediately resolved to send the tiddler command off on a flank march to the right, hoping to make a long distance baggage run at some later point in the game
In a now-familiar twist of tactical whiplash, the loyalist Assyrians had deployed in a wholly new configuration yet again.
This time, a hulking expanse of rough terrain squatted menacingly in the centre of my deployment zone, an impassable mire that threatened to snare my Chariots like flies in amber.
Perhaps overthinking things — or merely fearing entrapment — I dispatched the Heavy Chariots to hug the waterway, while my infantry slogged through the rough ground.
My light Chariots and remaining infantry took position on what should, by all rights, have been an open flank — only to find themselves hemmed in by a mess of woods, rocks, and mountainous terrain.
It was going to be one of those battles.
Assyrian War Chariots - Why the Three Horses?
The Assyrian war chariot was a symbol of prestige, military might, and technological evolution throughout the early and middle phases of Mesopotamian warfare.
Its development mirrored changes in both military doctrine and technology, as well as the terrain and tactics of Assyrian enemies.
In the 2nd millennium BCE, during the earlier periods of Mesopotamian warfare, chariots were typically two-wheeled, light, and drawn by two horses.
These were effective platforms for mobile archery and rapid battlefield communication but were limited by the power of the horses and the chariot's structural strength.
The enemy’s formation mirrored mine in its Assyrian heritage, but the differences were telling.
King Dickaleth-Hashdod had clearly gone for the optimized "mirror-killer" build — heavier combat infantry, more capable cavalry, and, in a stroke of hideous ingenuity, two camels dressed as elephants, surely intended to break the will of my proud Chariots.
On a battlefield this narrow, with no room for elegant feints or daring manoeuvres, brute force and bold timing would be the order of the day.
As the lines began their ponderous advance, my overriding aim was simple — keep my fragile Chariots away from those of King Dickaleth-Hashdod ("He Who Deploys Sideways While Smiling").
Ideally their presence in front of the rough terrain next to the waterway would keep the enemy's infantry bottled up, afraid to leave the safety of the terrain, and at some point I would then aim to redeploy them elsewhere to counterpunch against another part of the enemy line. On the other flank I had deployed wide too, looking to drive through the terrain and find support from the arrival of my flank march on that side
But in trying to draw the enemy to both flanks my army had somehow oozed outward on both wings, inadvertently leaving my baggage camp wide open, practically gift-wrapped for the enemy’s thunderous Chariot centre.
It was a gamble worthy of a mad king or a desperate man - and after 2 days pretending to be an Assyrian Ruler traversing the West Country and dining on a butter-infused diet I was not sure which I was more likely to be role-playing?
The enemy closed steadily, pushing infantry to the very edge of the rough ground next to the coast, anchoring their line in the terrain that straddled the table’s centreline. Chariots then joined the infantry, along with the weirdness that was Camel-flavoured elephants, creating a solid line to pin my Heavy Chariot force into a corner it really didn't want to be in any more.
Our forces now faced one another just outside bowshot, both sides hesitating, waiting, weighing the odds.
My concern wasn’t whether I could strike first — it was whether I could unravel the haphazard mess my army had become before King Dickaleth-Hashdod's army forced the issue.
Assyrian War Chariots - Why the Three Horses?
By the 9th to 7th centuries BCE (Neo-Assyrian Empire), Assyrian chariots had evolved significantly:
- They became heavier and sturdier, often used more as mobile assault platforms than nimble skirmishers
- Crews increased from two (driver and archer) to three or even four — often including a shield-bearer and a javelin-thrower or spearman.
- To accommodate the extra weight and crew, chariots were sometimes drawn by three horses — a configuration known as a triga (later used in Roman contexts too).
Away from the shoreline, the matchups were tighter — light Chariots against light Chariots, blade-and-bow infantry staring down their mirrored selves.
No easy wins here for anyone, just the lottery of dice and the wrong end of matchups everywhere you looked.
So, with little to recommend any clever tricks, I ordered my Assyrians forward. Chariots thundered into the weakest seam in the enemy line — the mixed formations of bow and blade, exposed and brittle in the face of a determined mounted charge. Meanwhile, my remaining Chariots attempted to harass and distract, buying time as combat infantry slogged into position.
Elsewhere, two of my Heavy Chariots had finally extracted themselves from the deployment quagmire and now faced off in a gladiatorial chariot duel — a brutal clash of equals where skill would take a back seat to luck and steel.
The valiant Light Chariots held nothing back, smashing into the enemy’s thin lines of infantry and archers, hoping — praying — for a breakthrough before sheer Assyrian numbers overwhelmed them. This was the moment.
This was the tipping point.
But the dice were fickle.
Some enemy units wavered; others stood their ground with maddening stubbornness.
And while my assault faltered at the edge of glory, the enemy Chariots poured volleys of arrows into the flanks of my own delaying screens, steadily dismantling my ability to protect my right.
Assyrian War Chariots - Why the Three Horses?
The use of three horses was a response to increased battlefield demands:
- More crew meant more firepower and versatility.
- Three horses gave greater pulling power for the heavier chariots, especially in rough terrain.
- It allowed the chariot to maintain speed and stability, despite its increased size.
However, it also had drawbacks:
- More horses meant more logistical strain (feeding, breeding, training).
- Larger chariots became less manoeuvrable in cramped terrain, which may explain their decline as cavalry grew more dominant.
- Wargamers would find it challenging to re-use the same chariot models for Middle and Late Assyrian armies.
On the coast, a grim standoff reached its crescendo.
The two bodies of Heavy Chariots collided with earth-shaking fury — a clash of titans, grinding metal and splintering wheels in a paroxysm of violence worthy of the gods.
This was no subtle duel. This was raw, ugly, and final.
Whoever won here would own the centre — and likely the game.
Worse still, one of the enemy’s more flamboyantly painted Heavy Chariots — a pink monstrosity straight from the crazed imagination of a Mattel executive scraping the barrel of new niche markets into which to pitch their most successful branded doll of all time — had slipped the leash and was now only moments away from turning my line from the flank
So Much Pink!
My own charioteers surely must have regarded this attack as little more than a Barbie-esque fever dream, finding it impossible to believe it was really about to happen to them?
Then, suddenly, the dam burst. The lines collided across the entire table in one cataclysmic instant.
Every unit, every soldier, was hurled into melee in a mad orgy of blood, steel, and fraying cohesion. There was no finesse left — just attrition, momentum, and dice. So many dice!
The Assyrian Empire in 5 TED Talk Minutes
And then… it broke. Not in one place, but everywhere. Gaps tore open across the battlefield like wounds. My Chariots smashed through the enemy Assyrian foot on the right. My Heavy Chariots trampled the cavalry of King Dickaleth-Hashdodin the centre.
But it came at a cost — the vital, pivotal handful of Light Chariots which I had tasked with being a delaying screen, holding my centre and tying together the two wings of my army had been badly shredded by enemy archery, smashed by enemy chariots and now were simply plain gone. And in its place, I was forced to fling in inferior Medium Cavalry to try and sustain the pressure. It was all rather not ideal at all.
And just when I thought things couldn’t get stranger, a camel-scented “elephant” appeared in the breach left by my own rampaging Chariot.
It was ludicrous. It was ridiculous. It was King Dickaleth-Hashdod's finest moment. And it was war.
My troops, uncertain whether to charge the weird beasts, or try to feed them dates, started to panic as the camels, spurred on by the scent of victory and possibly onions lingering on my breath from the unwise burger at lunchtime, thundered forward with such vigour that the deception barely mattered.
The fighting raged on, neither side yielding, the battlefield a shattered mess of courage, chaos, and completely different basing paradigms.
Assyrian War Chariots - Why the Three Horses?
The depiction of three-horse chariots in Assyrian art (such as the reliefs from Nineveh) likely shows elite royal or guard units — not all chariots used this configuration.
These reliefs were often as propagandistic as they were documentary, so the grandeur of the three-horse team also emphasized imperial power and divine favour.
The opposite flank was equally if not even more desperate - my plan to "hold up" the enemy chariots whilst quickly overrunning their infantry had rather turned into a plan to gradually feed my own chariots and cavalry into a Rebel Assyrian woodchipper whilst the rest of the enemy troops surrounded my main attack and sought to roll it up from the left.
Rather than leading a glorious victory parade, The King of Kings found himself resorting to trying to persuade some very average cavalry to bother to stick around just a smidge longer so there would at least be some witnesses to the unfolding debacle.
But sticking around is not something that Average Medium cavalry really do - unless you are talking about the whole "glue made out of dead horses" version of the phrase.
The plan to attack strongly on both flanks and refuse the centre was now fast unfurling itself into a gaping wound in the middle of my army full of enemy horsemen and chariots, as not for the first time one Assyrian Empire began to rise as another started to decline.
Three Horse Chariots - The Charioteers View
"By Ishtar’s sweaty girdle, who thought three horses was a good idea? One minute I’m gliding across the battlefield with two well-trained stallions and a clear sense of direction — the next, I’ve got three snorting lunatics dragging me sideways into a Hittite hedgerow because the middle one’s decided it doesn’t like mud.
Have you ever tried steering a triga when one horse wants to charge, one wants to prance, and the third's busy trying to bite your spear-man? It’s not a chariot, it’s a committee with a bad attitude and a coffee deficiency!
And don’t get me started on the crew. Used to be just me and an archer — simple, clean, respectable work. Now I’ve got a spear guy in the back poking me in the kidneys every time we go over a rock, and a shield bearer who thinks shouting “LEFT!” is the same as knowing how to navigate.
Meanwhile, I’m managing three sets of reins, dodging arrows, and trying to look majestic in front of the king.
I tell you, it’s only a matter of time before someone decides to stick a fourth horse on there. Then we’ll need a scribe up here in the cab as well - just to name them all!"
Things are sure getting bad when your Heavy Chariots have to have nominal proxy bases inserted into the line of battle as they are turned onto their flank by enemies who have them surrounded!
L'Art de la Guerre hint - Chariots are supposed to be on square (for 25mm, 60x60) bases, but of course they don't fit. The ADLG rulebook says that the deeper basing needed to accommodate modern models is perfectly fine, but if this would ever disadvantage or inconvenience either player, to assume/pretend that the models are based on the right sized bases - hence these proxy spacers in this situation
Everybody had absolutely been Assyrian-style kung-fu fighting on the other flank, with even the victorious enemy units having taken serious casualties along the way.
Doh!!
Suddenly it became apparent that both armies were actually quite small in unit count, and perhaps there was risk to everyone, not just my own rather damp-sqib assaulting troops over here after all.
As the battle drew on into tea and cake time in the mid afternoon, gaps started to open up across the line.
Hyper-mindful of how close their army was to defeat, Assyrian commanders used valuable command time sending out orders to even the smallest units of skirmishers, urging them to get out of the line of fire of any roving enemy archers in case they suffered an accidental arrow wound too far.
As my right flank threw of its momentary pretence of martial competence, the Flank Marching Micro Command suddenly appeared in the far distance on their near-exhausted steeds
One cavalry unit and some poor quality Skythians were only really suited to looting unprotected baggage, but with the battle in the balance they suddenly realised that they may not have time to cross the table and get to the enemy camp - instead they may need to fight!
Heroics from the Heavy Chariots on the left continued unabated despite the disaster on the right, as the wallpapered monsters somehow fought their way out of being surrounded and started to threaten to mop up pretty much everything opponent-shaped on this half of the table
This then was it - the final knockings, the army on the bring of defeat, but facing an enemy so exhausted that they too could collapse into the desert dust at any moment
The flank marching cavalry swept in to shoot the opposing troops in the rear, as the last two units of Foot Guards made a valiant stand too, shrugging off enemy attacks in the open ground and through the forest with renewed vigour.
But, even so, my army was on the very edge of defeat. So close in fact that even losing a unit of skirmishing slingers would tip the might of this type of Assyria into defeat!
There was no alternative - to save, or possibly even win - the game the Brilliant CinC would need to take personal command of the crappest unit on the table, the skirmishing slingers, and inspire them to stand up against an enemy cavalry charge in the open!
The General stepped up to the plate..
The dice rolled across the table..
The Slingers were Victorious - wounding the enemy horsemen, and in the process tipping the enemy Assyrians, just, only just, into defeat. The Result is an unlikely and last-gasp win !
Read on for the post match summaries from the Generals involved, as well as another episode of legendary expert analysis from Hannibal
Post Match Summary from the Assyrian Commander
O ye gods of war, ye witnesses of blood, sweat, sand, and inexplicably costumed camels — mark well this day! For once more, Elqosh son of Elqosh, Scourge of Soft Youths and First Among Equals (but mostly First), has triumphed! A triumph wrested not from fate’s open hand, but torn savagely from the clenched and disdainful fist of none other than King Dickaleth-Hashdodin !
Let none forget the cowardice disguised as cunning with which King Dickaleth-Hashdodin prepared for this contest. Behold his narrow battlefield! A dusty corridor barely wide enough for my breakfast litter, let alone the thunder of noble chariot wheels! Such trickery! Such conniving! He and his men feared the sun-bright gleam of my horsemen's charge, and so hemmed us in like sheep in a counting pen. But what is a pen to a lion? An inconvenience at most — a brief pause before the pounce.
And their army — ah! Let us speak of it. Their ranks bristled with mercenaries, novelties, and absurdities. Camel-men painted as elephants! Truly, they hoped that paint and fancy dress would outmatch steel and honour. I myself was momentarily fooled, thinking I'd inhaled too much of the field incense and was hallucinating. But no! It was simply idiocy disguised as innovation — the Assyrian way in decline!
Yet I will confess, for I am also humble — in the way only great men can afford to be — the day began not as I desired. My right wing, tasked with sweeping aside the enemy's second-stringers, instead found themselves baffled, battered, and most discourteously out-fought. It is a bitter thing when a wing collapses before it has even properly flapped — like a bird born mid-fall.
But while the right faltered, the centre held. No! The centre roared! There, amidst the clash of chariot against chariot, spoke the steel-tongued poetry of my design! Outnumbered? Yes. Overwhelmed? Nearly. Victorious? Utterly! My heavy chariots, chariots with wheels carved from the bones of past victories, burst through those of King Dickaleth-Hashdodin as a spear through soft melon! The enemy cracked like overbaked flatbread!
And then — as if scripted by the gods, or perhaps just extremely poor timing — my flanking cavalry finally arrived. A day late and a dinar short, but better late than Urartu taxes! They added their weight just as the balance wobbled like a drunken scribe, unsure whether to collapse left or right.
Ah, but the final glory — that must not be forgotten, lest your children grow up ignorant and your goats barren! With all hanging in the balance, I — yes I, Elqosh, Supreme Strategist and Modest Hero — dismounted. I cast off my plumed helm, tucked up my robes, and strode into the fray beside our humblest troops: the slingers! Men of calloused hands and questionable personal hygiene! They, whose usual task is to irritate the enemy from a distance, now found themselves staring down enemy horsemen at close quarters.
And what did I do? I inspired. I encouraged. I skirmished, gloriously! The foe charged, expecting to scatter peasants like old grain. But I — and my brave, pungent companions — stood firm. We did not merely survive, we struck! Sling met skull, courage met chaos, and the enemy recoiled in disbelief! That, my friends, was the final blow. The men of King Dickaleth-Hashdodin saw their will broken like the cheap swords these rebels carried.
Three victories from four — a record worthy of carving in bronze, or at the very least, chiselling into the less valuable sort of stone. Yes, we stumbled in our first engagement, when treachery and table legs conspired against us. But now, with this final triumph against King Dickaleth-Hashdodin, we have restored balance to the campaign — a mighty symmetry of success!
Let all Assyria hear: Elqosh prevails! Against rebels, against ruses, against absurdly disguised quadrupeds — none stand before me. I return home not just as victor, but as legend! And I expect the appropriate statues.
Hannibal's Post Match Analysis
O waxen lord of vainglory, O Elqosh the Loud-Lunged, son of Self-Praise and nephew to Nonsense,
How doth thy trumpet ever sound, though never quite in tune?
By the nostrils of Ba’al and the last raisins in my campaign rations, must I yet again endure the thunderous bray of this Assyrian braggart, this sand-born rooster who mistakes his own clucking for the roar of a lion?
Three victories from four, is it? Truly, a mighty record — if thou wert a tavern dice-player or an apprentice slinger gambling in the latrines. Yet thou struttest as if Olympus itself had bent knee before thy sandal. Newsflash, O Turban’d Toad of Tactical Travesty: surviving thine own ineptitude is not a strategy, it is an accident.
Let us peruse, with weary eye and sharpened tongue, the farce thou hast dared call a battle.
First, thy choice of battlefield — wait, pardon me — thy opponent’s choice of battlefield. Narrow? Cramped? Unsuitable for thy vaunted cavalry? Then why, in the name of all that is phalanxed and holy, didst thou engage there? Did thy royal chariot lose a wheel on the way to a wider plain? Or did thy scribe misread the map again, mistaking “death trap” for “opportunity”?
And camels disguised as elephants? Camels... disguised as elephants. Verily, that alone should have been cause to abandon the field and seek out whatever herbal concoction the enemy had been inhaling. Yet thou stood and fought, and now wish to claim glory for besting barnyard mummery. Shall I next dress a donkey as a war elephant and present it as the future of Carthaginian military innovation?
And thy right wing – that tragic winged beast with the lift of a drunk chicken – didst thou not promise it would sweep the enemy away? And yet, it flapped, floundered and folded faster than a tent in a sandstorm. I have seen Numidian apprentices hold a line better armed with kitchenware and hangover.
But lo! The centre held! And how? Through accident! Through the sheer luck that the enemy were more confused than thy own charioteers! You claim your chariots “burst forth like spears through melon” – well, aye, perhaps if the melon were already rotten and politely pre-sliced by the enemy’s own incompetence!
And now the final absurdity: that moment of rustic heroism, thy self-proclaimed descent from splendour into the skirmishing ranks. Ah yes — Elosh, King of Slingers, Wallower Among the Wretches! Drenched in sweat and onion, you stood amidst the peasantry and somehow emerged not just untrampled, but victorious. A tale so unlikely I expect to find it next to the epic of the talking goat and the flying plough.
Let me tell thee how I would have done it, O Paragon of Poor Planning: I would have brought actual elephants. Real ones. The kind that trample, trumpet, and turn the bowels of lesser men to water. I would have scouted the battlefield before committing my entire army to a canyon narrower than a Phoenician tax ledger. I would not have waited until the last gasp to send a flanking force — I would have sent it yesterday, with instructions to arrive on time and with purpose.
And lastly, I would not have turned to the rabble, slingers and dung-boys, to salvage my victory. For if thy battle plan ends with “and then I personally fight in the front rank with agricultural throwers”, thou didst never have a plan at all.
So blow thy trumpet if thou must, O Sand-Crusted Self-Caricature. But know this: Thy victories are like thy camels — painted, padded, and pathetic.
Now, back to thy scribes and statue-builders. I am off to polish my real elephants and lament the age in which this passes for generalship.
That's the end - so why not go back to the Match Reports Index and read some more reports?
Add your comments on these reports on the following forums
That's the end - so why not go back to the Match Reports Index and read some more reports?
The Final Standings
You may also like....
Game 1 Assyrian vs Classical Indian
Game 3 Assyrian vs Later Assyrian Empire & Sargonid
View My Stats for My Match Reports Pages