Constantinople : 1203
Being Part VI of my Series on Medieval Battles… (back issues so far: Part I – “Hastings : 1066”; Part II – “Legnano : 1176”; Part III – “Hattin : 1187”; Part IV – “Arsuf : 1191”; Part V – “Château-Gaillard : 1203”)
I’ve hesitated on writing on this one, because such a daunting amount of good stuff is already out there, just waiting for you to read it. Interestingly though, this is one occasion when the Wikipedia entry falls somewhat flat. Rather, I eagerly direct you to read Mitch Williamson’s vivid account on his War and Game blog.
Too lazy too follow those links? OK, then, in a nutshell: the primarily French army of the Fourth Crusade, whose ostensible goal was the liberation of the Holy Land from the Turks, was instead manipulated and diverted by Doge Enrico Dandolo of the immensely powerful Venetian city-state, and they instead besieged and sacked the then-believed-to-be-untakeable city of Constantinople, heart and capital of the waning Christian Byzantine (Eastern Roman) Empire.
From that, two simple D&D points on goals and party division, and two larger points on villains and intersection of narrative with the axis of idealism/cynicism. Ready? here we go:
On goals: the sacking of a fortress is a juicy adventure hook, or then again, is it stale? Given that a party likes to be party enjoy “we were there when…” moments, aim high. It’s a whole different story when you’re setting off to sack a castle that has never fallen. Kind of makes you think twice about the whole affair, yes? So then, use history as a backdrop to emphasize the import of your party’s actions.
On division: The siege and attack was prosecuted on multiple fronts. There was an amphibious assault on the seaward walls. There was a naval assault to break the great chain that protected the Golden Horn. There was a land-based assault by the French knights, who needed the terra firma beneath them to be effective.
If you were running this in an adventure, you might be tempted to allow the party to split up and “be there” for all these different exciting moments. I’d counsel that that might be a mistake. First, every party division quickly becomes a drag for the uninvolved players, no matter how much you think you’re prepared to run all the splices quickly. It just never works, so don’t even try. Contrive a good reason why this can’t be.
Secondly, you might just have a desired outcome in mind for this big historic event, and you can compensate for whatever the players do by deciding what happens elsewhere. They might come in on the sea wall and be far more clever, effective, and successful then you ever thought they would be. So, bend but don’t break: rather than amp up their enemies, let them have their little victory. Meanwhile, the French army gets slaughtered outside the main gates – if your goal was for the overall assault to fail. Players will end up feeling more heroic and less manipulated if you don’t run your ideas for grand story right over their little picnic. That’s harder to do when you let the party be in on all the splices.
On villains: Was Dandalo evil? Or was he just an extremely pragmatic man who cared about Venice’s fortunes and little else? Sorry kiddies, but I think that within a gaming narrative, he would have to be considered evil. But to assert that would also requiring believing that the Crusades were good, the Turks were bad, and Byzantium was innocent. Ugh! Well D&D is probably best served up with clearly defined Good Guys and Bad Guys, which is not really very much like how the real world is. Therein lies the appeal to some, right? And the joke is that you start with real-world history as inspiration for a game that has to be relocated to a completely imaginary place in order to sustain such a conceit!
On idealism/cynicism: OK, I’ve kind of jumped the gun on this one! I guess what I want to say here is that if you’re going to use an imaginary setting you, then probably should make it just as big and bright and bold as you can possibly bear to make it, because that’s how the game is meant to be played (now more than ever in 4E!), and that’s how it works best. I know, I know, I know all too well the urge to make your setting “all grown up” to prove that your gaming sensibilities have matured so much since you were 15. But let’s face facts here – you’re running with elves and dwarves and going after vampires and dragons – so has anything really changed all that much? Don’t sweat it, and don’t embarrass yourself with contrived “dark” or “heavy” plots that simply don’t live up to what the real world has to offer. We’re post-post-modern now, so break out the primary colors and save all that dark scheming for someone who cares. That certainly doesn’t include your Dragonborn Paladin now, does it?
Bonus point: Does your game setting have the equivalent of a Pope and a Holy Roman Emperor? If not, why the hell not!? Cranky old guys who can change history on a whim, give you, the DM, the power to take whatever unlikely narrative path you want to party to travel and make it The Way. Who doesn’t like that? After all, no one complains about being railroaded when the scenery is good!