Nothing can be said against the fighting spirit of the Indians, as again and again on the Roman left the Indian mounted forces came at the Legion. the Indian commander cursed the sheer amount of PiP points he needed to successfully control his irregular and impetuous troops. Again he cursed the Roman "scorpion" artillery for causing costly PiP point disarray to his battle lines. The result was a piecemeal combat as the Indian troops were fed in dribs-and-drabs rather than one robust wave of death delivering a mounted apocalypse (see "the last Indian huzzah" below):
The result was never really in doubt, the only surprise was how few Roman casualties there actually were (see below). The Roman Legion in the top half of the picture has just performed another "anti-cavalry" surge forward (see previous post for more details of this dubious tactical rules twist).
Back in the center only a few residual Indian troops remained. The central Indian (main) command had already taken two thirds of the casualties needed to break it (see below). True the Gaul's too were taking casualties, but as they were a 'minor command' the exchange rate was good for the Romans. The summer harvest of Indian wheat was soon to come to an end as the Indian reserve line of elephants wee being mustered just out of camera shot for a devastating counter attack.
Crunch, "Nelly" takes out the Gaul warband leader but it is already too late for the Indian cause (see below). The Indian mounted right wing shatters and a few points in the middle will seal it for the Romans. The hoards on the Indian left never got into the fight and the Roman Legions are all still pristine and intact. Pax Romana!
The only melancholy moment for the Roman command is the near complete annihilation of the Gauls. Some say they were left to die as once 'victorious' Gauls become a liability and Romans don't have to pay dead allied mercenaries from their treasury. A Gaulish tribe denuded of its menfolk soon becomes fodder for the expanding Roman empire. As a rising star of Rome, the Console in command of the Roman forces congratulates himself on a brilliant victory, however nobody notices the silent shadow of the Gaul's Druid shaman leaving the Roman kitchen area. The Console had such a liking for fine Gaul wine it will soon be his own poisoned undoing. The shaman knows his fate will soon be entwined with a Roman sword, but at least his fallen brethren will have been avenged to some degree.