The Immortal Gazette: The Battle of Agincourt – Trick Arrows and Deceptive Tactics
The Immortal Gazette studio, as always, was alive with buzzing energy, flickering candles, and the faintest echo of ancient magic. Alice, with her sharp, knowing smile, sat at the head of the table, sipping her tea like she had all the time in the world. Rumplestiltskin was already hunched over a weathered map, eyes gleaming as he examined the terrain of northern France. Loki lounged in his usual carefree manner, clearly ready to stir the pot.
“So, we’re back to this dusty old battle,” Alice said, her voice dripping with playful disinterest. “The Battle of Agincourt. Some English peasants versus the French knights. A classic underdog story.” She raised her cup, as if toasting to the absurdity of it all.
Rumplestiltskin’s lips curled into a grin. “Ah, but that’s where the fun begins, Alice. The Battle of Agincourt wasn’t about bravery alone. It was about strategy, specifically the devastating use of the longbow. The English—despite being vastly outnumbered—managed to decimate the French forces, largely due to their skilled archers and the power of the longbow.”
Loki raised an eyebrow. “Well, sure, if you call being outnumbered and still winning a ‘strategy.’ Seems more like a lucky roll of the dice to me. I mean, it’s not like they had immortals on their side, right?”
“True,” Rumplestiltskin said dryly, “but the English didn’t need immortals. They had the longbow. And the longbow was a game-changer.” He traced a finger along the map, outlining the positions of the archers. “This weapon allowed them to strike from a distance—far beyond what the French knights were prepared for. They were trained for hand-to-hand combat, for jousting, not for being pelted with arrows from hundreds of yards away.”
Alice snorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, so they were just surprised? Wow, what a shocker. Maybe the French were too busy polishing their armor to notice the giant army of peasants with arrows aimed at their faces.” She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by the historical simplicity.
Rumplestiltskin gave her a sideways glance. “Oh, I see, Alice, always so unimpressed. But the French didn’t just forget—they underestimated the power of distance. The English longbowmen were positioned behind a line of stakes, forcing the French to charge at them while the archers picked them off one by one. And that’s where we can have some fun. I’m sure I could think of a few ways to make this even more interesting.”
“Like what?” Alice asked, intrigued despite herself. “I’m all ears, Rumple.”
Rumplestiltskin leaned forward, the gleam in his eye unmistakable. “Well, let’s start with the obvious—trick arrows. Imagine if the English had managed to use misleading signals, maybe even arrows that appear to be one thing but are entirely something else. Fire one batch of arrows that look like they’re targeting a specific area, drawing the French forward, only for them to find that the arrows are actually filled with smoke or fire. Meanwhile, the real attack comes from the flanks.”
Alice raised an eyebrow. “So, instead of just raining arrows down like a normal battlefield, you’re talking about creating chaos with some over-the-top deception?”
“Exactly,” Rumplestiltskin said, eyes shining with excitement. “The key is to confuse and disorient. The longbowmen could pretend to be concentrating their fire on one area, causing the French knights to charge recklessly into the line of fire. Then, with the real arrows targeting a different part of the field, they’d be caught in a crossfire they didn’t see coming.”
Loki, who had been listening intently, chuckled. “Ah, now that’s much more fun. The French would be tripping over themselves, too distracted by the fake arrows to realize they’re about to get skewered from every side. Classic misdirection.”
“And it wouldn’t just stop there,” Rumplestiltskin continued, his tone turning more conspiratorial. “Let’s say the English used some psychological warfare with the arrows. Dye the tips a particular color, so it looks like the English are firing an entirely different kind of ammunition—something that instantly changes the French perception. It would make them second-guess everything. Is it poison? Is it fire? They’d be so caught up in speculation, they wouldn’t notice the real threat until it was too late.”
Alice nodded, her lips curling into a smile of approval. “Oh, now we’re talking. Misinformation and confusion are practically the bread and butter of a good old-fashioned ambush. But let’s take it further—how about we throw in some magic? Just a touch of illusion, a little trickery to make the longbowmen seem like they’re everywhere. You know, just to make things a bit more dramatic.”
Rumplestiltskin’s eyes twinkled. “I like the way you think, Alice. Imagine casting an illusion of more archers behind the lines, making it look like the English have an army twice their size. The French knights, already frustrated with the long-range fire, would think they’re walking into a trap. Now they’re scared, and fear breeds mistakes.”
Loki raised his hands, grinning widely. “Now that’s a battle I’d love to watch. The French, all paranoid and confused, charging headlong into what they think is a trap, only to be met with a well-placed volley of arrows. That would be a sight.”
Alice, ever the strategist, crossed her arms. “I think they’d be better off just using the one-two punch. First, the illusion of strength, followed by the real assault—just like any good show. Make them think they have options, and then close the trap.” She smiled slyly. “Maybe add a few booby traps for flair.”
Rumplestiltskin smirked. “Ah, yes. Booby traps. The ultimate way to ensure that those who survive the arrows don’t get far.” He tapped the map again, envisioning the scene. “You see, Alice, it’s not just about having more arrows or better positioning—it’s about making the enemy lose their nerve. The French knights were highly trained, but they were not prepared for the kind of chaos the English could unleash.”
Loki leaned back, clearly entertained. “Well, that’s certainly a different way to win a battle. All the honor and glory of the fight would be stripped away in favor of sneaky little tactics and illusions. But hey, who cares about honor when you can make the enemy crap their pants?”
Alice shot him a pointed look. “Honor doesn’t win wars, darling. Survival does.”
Rumplestiltskin gave a little clap of his hands. “Exactly. And imagine how much more devastating this strategy would be, taking the already-terrifying power of the longbow and supercharging it with deception, chaos, and a touch of magic. The French wouldn’t know what hit them.”
As the three immortals leaned back, sipping their drinks and letting the possibilities of the battle unfold, one thing was clear: sometimes, it wasn’t just about strength and courage. It was about using every trick in the book to confuse, disorient, and strike when the enemy least expected it.
The Battle of Agincourt was a defining moment in history. But with a bit of trickery, illusion, and a little magic, it could’ve been even more legendary.
🖋️✨📜🖤
