Battle of Schwaderloh
The Swiss forces stand victorious on the battlefield of Schwaderloh, surveying the carnage and tending to their wounded. The Swabian League's forces are in retreat, their banners trampled in the mud.
Setting
A muddy field near Schwaderloh, surrounded by rolling hills and patches of forest. The battlefield is littered with the aftermath of combat—broken weapons, discarded shields, and the fallen. A small stream cuts through the field, its waters tinged red.
Characters
Swiss Halberdier
primary
A battle-weary Swiss infantryman in his late 30s, with a muscular build from years of wielding heavy weapons. His face is weathered with deep-set eyes that have seen too much combat, and a short, unkempt beard. A fresh scar runs across his left cheekbone from the recent battle.
Swiss Captain
primary
A grizzled commander in his late 40s with a muscular build from years of warfare. His face is weathered, with deep-set eyes under thick brows and a graying beard trimmed short. A jagged scar runs from his left temple to jawline—a souvenir from past battles.
Wounded Swabian
secondary
A young Swabian soldier in his early twenties, with a lean but muscular build from years of training. His face is streaked with dirt and sweat, his light brown hair matted with blood from a minor scalp wound. His teeth are clenched in pain as he clutches a deep gash in his left thigh, his fingers slick with blood. His blue eyes are wide with a mix of fear and exhaustion, darting between the Swiss soldiers and the fleeing figures of his comrades.
Swiss Crossbowman
secondary
A wiry man of medium height with sun-leathered skin and sharp eyes that scan the battlefield like a hawk. His brown beard is cropped close to avoid fouling his crossbow string, and his hands bear the callouses of years drawing steel bows.
Swabian Deserter
background
A young Swabian soldier in his early 20s, with a lean but wiry build from years of peasant labor. His face is streaked with mud and sweat, his wide eyes darting frantically. His short, dark hair is matted under a torn coif. A fresh cut on his cheek bleeds sluggishly.
Dialog
Swiss Captain
Zum Teufel nochmal! That gully’s a death funnel—flank it next time, or we’ll lose more good men.
Swiss Halberdier
Ja, Herr Hauptmann. Like at Frastanz—better to hold high ground than chase into mud.
Swiss Crossbowman
Bolts wasted on Swabian shields. Windlass holds, but lath needs tightening after this.
Swiss Captain
Let their wounded drink from the stream—no need to make them suffer for their lord’s folly.
Swiss Halberdier
Aye. Poor bastard won’t last the night, but no reason to hasten Pluto’s work.
Swiss Crossbowman
Hn. Better their blood in the dirt than ours.
Swiss Captain
Enough chatter. Secure the field—those hills could still hide a few fools with delusions of victory.