• Welcome to the Fantasy Writing Forums. Register Now to join us!

Bngattle scenes and pacing

skip.knox

toujours gai, archie
Moderator
I just finished another Aubrey/Maturin novel (The Nutmeg of Consolation). There are a couple of battle scenes in there that got me thinking about narrative pacing in a battle. First a quick summary of the battles, then a couple of observations.

An early battle takes place between the crew of the ship and a war band of South Seas warriors. The crew is shipwrecked, but they have managed to save some gunpowder, plus they have their swords. The locals have blades plus spears and arrows (I think; not important here). The warriors have taken the beach but the crew is ensconced behind breastworks. But they're also outnumbered. They have one cannon.

The warriors loot supplies down on the beach. After a while and after much shouting and posturing, they launch an attack, which the sailors drive back

The crew has been building a ship to get off the island from the wreckage of their big ship, and the warriors set that on fire. This really forces the issue and there's a second engagement. The warriors are driven off, but their boat is sunk at the last minute by a cannon shot.

The second engagement takes place at sea. The British have acquired a new ship and are in pursuit of a larger French frigate. Aubrey dares to attack the ship while it's in harbor at a remote island. His intent is to draw the ship out, lose it at night among other islands, then attack by surprise at dawn. It requires careful timing.

The details and mechanics of these fights are secondary. What struck me about both is how the stories are told. In the first, our heroes have time to dine before the initial fighting even begins. This happens in a different way in the second. There follows an engagement, then another period in which not much happens in a martial sense.

O'Brian is a master at this. By not making the battle non-stop (think how the movie Master and Commander handles this), we're drawn further into the scene. And of course the author does this because he's done his homework. He knows this is how early 19thc battles were fought and, more particularly, how different kinds of battles unfolded in different situations.

Now consider fantasy battles. They tend to be non-stop. Worse, they tend to proceed as if they were fought by more or less modern armies instead of being fought according to the logic of their times.

Now add in magic. This surely would change the dynamic. So often it unfolds like a kind of heavy artillery, swooping in on command and causing massive damage. Rarely is there room for the well-timed cannon shot, the artful timing of resources, use of deception, the element of chance.

And always I keep in mind the experiences of Prince Andrey and of Pierre at the Battle of Borodino. There the author takes us down into the confusion, into the odd moments of peace in the midst of battle, into courage that sometimes cannot even find an outlet.

We miss so many opportunities when we approach our battles as if they were all tank battles or storming the Normandy beaches or nuking the field (looking at you, dragons). It's all special effects.

I think this post is a kind of missive to myself. If it's of value to others, all the better.
 
Worse, they tend to proceed as if they were fought by more or less modern armies instead of being fought according to the logic of their times.

Have you ever listened to Dan Carlin's Hardcore History podcast? I absolutely recommend it. Probably the best, most valuable podcast I've ever found. Anyway, this reminded me of something he said once. It might have been in his "Kings of Kings" series about the Persian kings and their wars. Or in one of the many episodes I've actually bought and downloaded. (Maybe his series on the Punic wars?) He mentioned the Hollywood version of two armies just running at each other full speed and slamming into each other. Whereas, in his opinion, it probably didn't happen like that. The first rows at least would have slowed down considerably when they neared the enemy. They would have picked their foes out in the line across from them. They would have feared the spear, the sword, etc., or at least would have had a healthy respect for those, and wouldn't simply slam blindly forward.

ON another note...I've found I've most enjoyed the large fantasy battles when they happened almost like montages. A quick, narrow focus here, then elsewhere in the battle and with a different character, and then to another, and maybe back again to the first when there's a lull that seems to go on for awhile (for that character) but probably is only for a minute or two at most, perhaps only half a minute. Around and about the battle, with these "lulls" if you can call them that, interspersed also. At some point, there needs to be someone standing on a hill or other vantage point looking out over things to give a quick overview of where the battle stands.

I think time dilation is a real necessity. A matter of 10, 20 seconds may feel like several minutes and may actually utilize more words than a traveling montage that spans hours and days. I like my focuses to be like that. Up close and personal, with key moments in focus—key for the character, or for the character's very present circumstances—and not generic weapon play. But if a battle is really to take several hours, then I want these moments to end for a bit and to have an overview more in the style of a traveling montage, before returning back to the close and personal for a few closing moments. Just a sentence or two telling me the sun had now sunk close to the earth, and men on either side now struggled with reddened mud as much as limp bodies when trying to engage their next opponent. Or whatever.
 
I'll add, it makes a difference whether you are writing solely from the POV of the rank and file, or from various officers' perspectives, or even from the POV of the main general or commander of the army. Or, from a mixture of these POVs.

Plus, smaller battles might be very similar for me. For instance, a night raid on your camp by bandits might be quite similar to a day-long battle between two armies. On the other hand, a sudden ambush that ends quickly might be written in a couple paragraphs only.
 

Mad Swede

Auror
Writing this as a (now retired) professional soldier. Most fantasy authors have no battle experience and often no military experience what so ever. Its very interesting to compare how those authors with personal experience (eg Tolkien and CS Lewis) describe battles compared to authors with no experience. Fighting on a battlefield is an intensely personal experience, and you rarely if ever have an overall view of things.

To take an example from real life. My brigade was usually deployed in an area 60km deep and about 50km wide, and in terrain with few or no roads. When you've got maybe 6000 men (and women) and their vehicles deployed in 3000 square kilometers of terrain you begin to realise that there are on average 2 people for every square kilometer of terrain. That means that when the enemy attack what you'll get is a series of small scale individual skirmishes interspersed with quite a few moments of quiet. Unless the enemy attacks at division strength parts of the brigade will go most of the day without seeing the enemy - some in your force may never use their weapons at all, and others will run out of ammunition. Artillery and air attacks don't change this much - you still have to find your enemy out there in the terrain. Modern command and control methods do allow you to command bigger forces, but because they're spread over such a wide area you as the commander end up delegating a great deal of authority and responsibility simply because you can't maintain an accurate real time picture of what is happening during the battle. As commander you rely on reports coming in to give you an idea of whats going on, because there's no way you can get around to have a look for yourself.

Before modern command methods (read military staff) and modern communications came in, you couldn't command more than you could see. This restricted both how you deployed your forces on the battlefield and how big your force could be. Essentially, your force was deployed in a smaller area, and any battles you fought tended to be more concentrated and usually shorter than they would be now. The soldiers would see far more of the enemy, and the fighting would be more intense and at much closer quarters. But once it was over, there would be a lull, either whilst the forces pilled back for another go, or because one side retreated or was driven off.

Do dragons and magic change this? Only if the forces are deployed in a small area. If those armies are dispersed in their field deployment (as they should be, given the threat from dragons and the opportunities offered by magical communications) then the problems are pretty much the same as they are now. Would tactics change? Probably not. The basics haven't changed much in the last two thousand years. You still try to concentrate your forces against the enemy weak spots, you still try to outflank the enemy and you still try to use deception to fool the enemy into attacking or defending in the wrong place. Chance still plays a part, as does the weather and the terrain. As authors, we need to think and do the research - and too many don't.

So how should we as authors describe battles? I don't, for personal reasons spelt PTSD. But if I were to describe a battle I think I'd vary the perspective between the view of individual soldiers, and the overall view of the commanders. In doing so I'd have different timescales for the differing viewpoints, as this would reflect the different perspectives of those involved.
 
I have never been in a real battle but agree that many fantasy battles- pure fantasy battles, let's say, fall pretty flat and boring. I will sort of skip over them. On the other hand, I once re-read (4th time maybe) the Lord fo the Rings and ONLY read the battle parts because they are so interesting and well written. They are also a substantial part of each book with real and present consequences on both large and small scale.

it's been a LONG time but I recall "the Killer Angels" having compelling battle scenes. Of course, its also most of the book. Shaara was in Korea as I recall. I also liked that Benedict Arnold book- (forgetting the name.. but its famous). The thing that book really brought home was how incompetent many of the generals where, as well as just how horrible things were even without battle. Far more people died just moving an army from point A to point B than actually in any battle. Disease, cold, exhaustion, starvation, lack of basic equipment, no treatments for the smallest wounds killing people right and left.
 

skip.knox

toujours gai, archie
Moderator
>you couldn't command more than you could see
That in a single phrase is Tolstoy's critique of Napoleon's reputation for brilliance. And he does a great job illustrating it at Smolensk and Borodino. 'Course, he was a vet, too.

I'm still interested in trying to imagine how the presence of mages on a battlefield would change the way in which I might narrate a battle. As the Swede says, the core elements of battle remain the same: forces in opposition contending over disputed ground, with the goal of destroying, disrupting, or driving off the other. Sieges a second kind of battle. Another is the skirmish, where the purpose is to test, reconnoiter, or provoke. And it's important to have a good grasp of how these things play out. The narrative pacing for each will be different.

Do you send a mage out on a cavalry raid? A plundering expedition? How do you deploy mages when going into an unexpected encounter (happened more often than you might guess, at least in the Middle Ages). I realize the answer is going to vary wildly depending on the type of magic used, but wild variances are what interest me. Heck, how does one even coordinate with mages? Keep them near the king? Send them crashing into the enemy? I should think friendly fire would be an issue.

But my focus here is on the pacing of the narrative. Troops fight better on a proper breakfast. Combatants get tired--nobody swings a sword for six or eight hours. Presumably mages tire as well. How does a lull in the fighting work?

Another thing I learned from Tolstoy: it can be surprisingly difficult for the individual to know when a battle has begun and when it has ended. Sure, the enemy may have fled from *your* portion of the battle, but they might actually be winning over on the other side of that hill. A good many battles have turned on that mistake.

And from O'Brian: perspective does matter, as was mentioned above. Those magnificent sea battles look very different from Maturin's viewpoint (he's the ship's surgeon) and Aubrey's viewpoint. I bet from the gun deck it looks different yet. Or a marine in the yards.

Anyways. We can know a battle in all its details. We can know it in realistic detail. But that actually says nothing about how we tell the story of the battle. It's worth taking a second and third look at authors whom you think have told the story well, to see how they managed to keep you engaged.
 
I would like to see some innovation on the battle magic. not just power blazing out in waves. Like the old stoneskin spell in D7D, my bro had drwarven shock troops that would catapult themselves over battlements etc- bounce of wall and houses and jump up ready to fight. its a much more interesting image and idea than just throwing lightning or whatever.

magic allows one to substitute a rock with a living dwarf, and throw them over the walls - be a fun interlude to write from the perspective of one of those dwarves! Or on the other end...
 

skip.knox

toujours gai, archie
Moderator
Magic in Altearth is unreliable, which makes its use in battle a bit problematic.

Technically it's completely reliable, but the people at the time had a poor understanding of how magic actually worked, so they came up with a wide variety of theories--from alchemy or numerology to meditation or prayer to a variety of magical items and devices. How would a commander make use of an archer who sometimes misfired, sometimes killed three at once, and whose bow sometimes caught fire? Some magic is more reliable, but what worked at one battle might not at the next.

And even if you believed the power would work, how does one deploy mages? Using them at a siege seems the easiest to solve, since everyone stays put. You treat them almost like artillery pieces, both offensively and defensively.

But in the field? Put them out front like skirmishers? Deploy only on the flanks? Pull them back once the two sides come to grips, surely. Be useful in pursuit, maybe, but how many mages are also horsemen? Unless they can fly, of course.

Anyway, so often I see mages used as if they sort of had free reign and perfect battlefield intelligence. But how would fog of war affect their actions? How about "reload time"? I picture a mage trying to work their way through the casting of a complicated spell in the face of a cavalry charge. Or a flight of arrows. It'd make a feller nervous. OTOH, send a fireball mage far around the flank and they can wreck the enemy's camp in moments.

On the other side, imagine wondering if some damned mage was going to turn your whole unit to ice and you'd never see it coming. Or drop a stone dwarf on your tent. Keeping discipline would be a real challenge.

Any and all these offer narrative possibilities. Especially because it involves actions that *don't* have direct parallels to real battles. The reader can assume nothing, which can raise tension.
 

Mad Swede

Auror
>you couldn't command more than you could see
That in a single phrase is Tolstoy's critique of Napoleon's reputation for brilliance. And he does a great job illustrating it at Smolensk and Borodino. 'Course, he was a vet, too.
Ah, but Napoleons real innovation was a command staff. That meant he could produce a plan and a series of coordinated orders to his subordinates, and that his staff could read the reports as they came back and build a sort of picture of what was going on. It meant Napoleon could command bigger forces spread over a wider area, and do so in a coordinated manner. It gave him a huge advantage, at least until commanders like Wellington adopted the same methods. But, it didn't make up for poor logistics and poor strategy.

The problem with being in a battle as a soldier is how intense it is. You lose track of time, you have no idea of the wider picture. You get a lull, so you tend the wounded, rest, eat, drink water and take a p*** or have a s***. You might even have a quick nap. Its an old soldiers adage: eat when you can, sleep when you can. Then the next load of enemies turn up and it all starts again. And eventually, you find out that its all over, and you breathe a sigh of relief that you made it. Then you bury your dead, if you can. And if you have to retreat, you never, ever, leave anyone behind.

As a commander, you're standing there (and yes, you usually stand, you're too tense to sit down for any length of time) wondering whats actually happening out there, hoping your plan was good enough, hoping you haven't missed anything or misjudged what the enemy was going to do. Trying to stay calm whilst you watch symbols move on a map, reading the reports, trying to work out what the enemy is trying to do. Issuing new orders, and hoping above all else that you won't have to pull back in the middle of a running fight.

There's no way you can ever capture this in text, or even on film. There's no way of conveying any of this, that tension, intensity, worry and joy when it all goes to plan. Or that numbness you get when it all goes to rats. All we as authors can ever do is capture a bit of it.
 

skip.knox

toujours gai, archie
Moderator
>And if you have to retreat, you never, ever, leave anyone behind.
Medieval knights had a rather different take on that. <g>

>There's no way of conveying any of this
Have to take your word for that, as I have zero military experience. I'm just a historian. For myself, I don't intend to try to convey any of that.

Well, I did try once. In my first novel I do a re-telling of the Battle of Adrianople (376), aspects of which have long stuck with me. The Goths surrounded the Romans and so pressed them in upon themselves that at the last soldiers couldn't even raise their swords because their arms were pressed against their sides. And this was in August, so the heat and dust were oppressive. I do have aspects of the battle told from the POV of my MCs, what I really wanted was to put the reader in that crush. So we pick up Ordinary Soldier, which let me not only describe the battle from that perspective, it also let me show the enemy (a horde of goblins) and how the Romans dealt with that in tactical terms. There just wasn't a good way to do that from other angles.

Most times, I look at the battle from the POV of MCs, their cares and fears and experiences. The hero will survive, of course, but that doesn't mean they'll be unscathed. And honestly, I don't narrate battles much. None, in fact, after that first novel, but I'll have a couple of big ones in The Falconer. So matters military bubble up for me from time to time.
 
As a commander, you're standing there (and yes, you usually stand, you're too tense to sit down for any length of time) wondering whats actually happening out there, hoping your plan was good enough, hoping you haven't missed anything or misjudged what the enemy was going to do. Trying to stay calm whilst you watch symbols move on a map, reading the reports, trying to work out what the enemy is trying to do. Issuing new orders, and hoping above all else that you won't have to pull back in the middle of a running fight.

Unless you're Alexander, of course. Then it's only some of these things.
 
There's no way you can ever capture this in text, or even on film. There's no way of conveying any of this, that tension, intensity, worry and joy when it all goes to plan. Or that numbness you get when it all goes to rats. All we as authors can ever do is capture a bit of it.

I think there's more than capturing a bit of it, although I generally agree that our language is limited, communication is imperfect, and the horrors (and other things) of reality are...well, the real things.

I so often have difficulty in some of these discussions because I feel we fall into the habit of discussing and critiquing reality rather than fiction.

What were things really like? What is the real nature of ______ ? What really happens when ________ ?

These are good questions, food for thought, inspiration, and perhaps a little more. We don't want to shatter believability.

But we do want to create understandings, intellectual and emotional reactions (of one sort or another) in our readers. Are paintings from the school of realism better than those Impressionist masterpieces, or than abstract paintings or surrealist paintings? Even the realist paintings are a trick, an illusion. They are not quite so 3-D as they may seem....

I think art is always an artifice; or at least it's what you said. We'll never capture more than only a bit of it. That was always the case. So instead of debating reality, the real histories, actual events, processes, and persons, I prefer to discuss the art. I can be very swayed, entertained, and even awed by things that I know to be false, heh. Heck, I'm never there anyway, but merely here looking at pixels on a screen when I read. The battle is an illusion.
 

skip.knox

toujours gai, archie
Moderator
Ibidem. Though I'd rather say "In addition to" rather than "instead of." But discussing the art was indeed the motivation for my cryptically-titled original post. Very often the artistic, the story-telling goal in describing a battle scene isn't in fact the battle but how the characters get involved and experience that battle. I go back to Prince Andrei and Pierre (over and over).

And that's where we get into very interesting ways in which a battle can be narrated. To invoke O'Brian again, in some of the early novels he often skips the climax. That's an odd choice, but I gradually came to like it. We follow the fighting as ships close, as a ship is boarded, right up until victory is at hand. Then he cuts to well after the battle--hours later or even the next day. There again, the specifics aren't important. The lesson I take is that as narrator I choose when to cut, all along the course of the fight. Making those choices is an interesting challenge. Doing it well is, I believe, vital to making the reader feel involved. And that's just one aspect of the topic.
 
I think what has not yet been said is the importance of the battle to the plot. The plot will always keep the battle interesting, if done well.

My historical novel has several threads running through it and they all come together (for both fictional and historical figures) at the final battle (Battle of Hastings). The battle lasts over 40 pp (three and a half chapters) with climax after climax happening across plot lines as I simultaneously explore (for myself) exactly what went wrong for Harold at Senlac Hill.

He really should have won that battle, so hopefully I've given the readers rather a lot to think about.
 
In regards to writing battles remember that a novel is very different from a movie. In a movie you can have Jacky Chan punch people for 20 minutes straight and people will be entertained. Try that in a novel and you will crash and burn. No one wants to read a blow by blow description of a long battle: He punched a bad guy. He punched him in a different way. He got his head stuck in a ladder and used that to knock out four opponents. He then jumped on a bus and punched another guy.

In a novel, you can get inside someones head. You can focus on the plans a person is making, the confusion of battle, the feelings a person has. Combine that with zooming in and out and you can write very compelling battle scenes. And yes, that actual hacking with swords is only a minor detail. It should be the culmination of the tale, not the whole purpose.

To take a look at Tolkien (who has written some of the best battle scenes in my opinion), at the battle for Gondor. The whole battle is something like 3 chapters long. It starts with a few skirmishes (which mainly happen of screen) and the madness of Denethor, which serve to make the situation look dire for the defenders. There's little hope. Then we skip to the ride of the Rohirrim, who ride through the dark and they on their way also pick up signs of the desperate struggle that will be ahead, again building more tension. But here, halfway through the chapter, there's mention that the winds are changing, foreshadowing that there might be light at the end of the tunnel, even if it's not believed by the main characters that there is any hope. We get to the darkest point, where Merry (who is the main viewpoint character in this section) despairs that everything is lost and a line later it shifts, he notices that there is still a chance and change is coming. And then at the same time as the gate of Gondor is breached (which is the most dire spot in the battle for the defenders) the Rohirrim charge in and only then does the battle proper begin. It starts with a wide shot but quickly zooms in on a single character and his struggle (king Theoden agains the witchking) and then Eowyn, which is the high point of the battle. After that, we zoom out again (to briefly focus on another character) and we get a wrap-up of the battle.

That's a lot of build-up, a lot of planning, stuff going wrong and foreshadowing of things to come and very little actual fighting. And even in the fighting there is an ebb and flow of action, slowing down as it gets very close to a character and speeding up again as it zooms out.
 
Top