Tell me who the greatest warrior in history is Veeky Forums

The black prince

my grandad

How do you propose we measure greatness? Prowess? Wealth? Influence? Honor? Genitals?

I would pay good money to see a fight between those two.

Me tbqh

No ona has about Bayard the good knight without fear and without reproach?
Probably one of the most epic knights of France.

That's not Geoffrey de Charny.

Measured through their prestige and prowess mostly. Honor can also be a factor but I want to focus on those two attributes

Nigga who is this

Skanderbeg. He was a king of Albania in the 1400's who constantly defied the Ottoman Empire in his tie as king. He was raised as a prince but was given to the Ottomans when he was a kid and was raised to be a Jannisary. Eventually he left and retook Albania for himself from the Turks with fake legal documents and waged war for years against the Ottomans with a vastly outnumbered army. He went almost undefeated and is credited with over 1000 kills on the battlefield, however, these numbers are dubious at best. He eventually died from disease which caused Albania to be immediately reconquered.

Not only that but he fought Venetians too and won.

Disdain for Austrians

Zawisza Czarny z Garbowa herbu Sulima
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zawisza_Czarny
>During his life, he was regarded as a model of knightly virtues. After his death, he was praised by the Polish historian Jan Długosz, the poet and Canon of Gniezno Adam Świnka, and by King Sigismund of Luxembourg.
>In 1410 he took part in the Battle of Grunwald against the Teutonic Order. After the battle he and his close friend Stibor of Stiboricz proposed a peace treaty between the King Jagiełło of Poland and Sigismund of Luxembourg, then King of Hungary, which came to be known as the Treaty of Lubowla. In 1412 he participated in the conference between Sigismund, Wladyslaw II and Tvrtko II of Bosnia at Buda, where he won the tournament held there, with 1,500 knights present.
>Zawisza was as much a diplomat as he was a warrior, being an envoy for the Polish king Władysław II and Hungarian-Bohemian king Sigismund of Luxembourg. As one of six diplomats that represented the Polish Kingdom and king Władysław II at the Council of Constance, he was one of very few supporters of the Church reformer Jan Hus, and consequently strongly opposed his condemnation and subsequent execution.
>In 1416 he participated in a tournament in Perpignan in which he defeated the well-known knight John II of Aragon and Navarre. The following year, he became the starost of Kruszwica. In 1419 he went to Sigismund again, as a deputy of King Władysław II, to ask for the hand of Sophia of Bavaria, the widow of Sigismund's brother Wenceslaus of Bohemia. Subsequently, Zawisza participated in the Hussite Wars on the side of king Sigismund. During Sigismund's defeat at Kutná Hora (21 December 1421), Zawisza was taken prisoner by the Hussites and subsequently released in return for a high ransom.

Miyamoto Musashi

pretty sure thats skanderbeg

>Napoleon was a fucking general not a warrior.

TOP FUCKING KEK

Italian Campaign is literally Napoleon fighting at the very fucking front lines. at the siege of toulon he literally stood in cannonfire. some troops thought he was fucking crazy and was actively looking for death.

forgot image

So just by standing in the front lines, that makes him a warrior? So that means he could duel other warriors listed and come out as the winner? Fuck off. Napoleon may have been brave and one of the best generals in history, but not a warrior

Richard the Lionheart or Simo Hayha

The Italian campaign is bad ass, but he wasn't actively fighting, but rather leading from the frontline. That made Napoleon really popular since it made the troops feel like he was truly one of them

>tfw some random anglo retard stabs you in the dick with a spear

es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diego_García_de_Paredes_(1468-1533)#Duelista_invicto:_el_desaf.C3.ADo_de_Barletta

Fucking roger daltrey you cunts. 'Ed deck ya te fif'y pieces u cun' fuck wang'ers

Richard Lionheart

The Black Dog of Armorica

>age of the automatic rifle
>warrior

yeah, nah

Id bet on Bertrand tbqh

Hannibal Barca

Holy fuck this dude is my new hero

Some nameless peasant who died in battle long ago.

i bet my grandad could beat up ur grandad

William Marshal

I know he's a nip but Tadakatsu Honda should get a mention.

Fought in almost every major battle Sengoku era japan had to offer, personally volunteered for the most dangerous positions and led attacks from the front, and never once suffered a major injury to his person in battle.

Prince Rupert of the Rhine and William Marshal are solid choices though.

>almost 100 major battles
>his fucking horse and spear had their own names
>everyone sucked his cock

>mfw I'm pressuring the attacking team to stop reloading and charge with bayonets in mount and blade napoleonic wars

Literally me anytime there is a breach on a siege map

Fuckers don't understand that the defending team's long respawn dooms them to lose to bayonet rush, even if attackers are shit at melee

His spear and sword became national treasures of Japan.

the funny thing is that you actually get MORE kills when charging in like a maniac with a bayonet

most people are too scared and concerned about their k/d ratio

I played a battle with the american portion of my clan years back. The rounds lasted ages because almost none of them were aggressive and would rather shoot. Living up the stereotype.

Some unknown. Maybe Alexander from who we do know. Also maybe musashi.

Is this why Albania starts with a 3 star king in eu4????

Carlos Hathcock

eh...I've seen it happen on both NA and EU servers

it happens all the time on minisiege and most players have low pings

Ruy "El Cid campeador" Diaz de Vivar was quite based.

>fought against moors. They respected his fighting prowess and leadership.
>was exiled from the kingdom he served by the king he swore to protect because rumors and intrigue by jealous faggots.
>instead of fucking crying he went to offer his services to other kings. Moor and christian because he was good at war.
>wins a number of battles thanks to his incredible tactics.
>never went against his former King though. He noticed.
>had two named swords and both were feared by his enemies.
>eventually his former King realizes he fucked up and welcomes him again.
>El cid challenges the guys that started the rumours and wins.
>Lives long enough and does not becomes a villain.
>Badass poem made about him because he was a fucking legend.

Musashi, probs

Ali ibn Abi Talib

For France, any answer other than Boucicaut is wrong.
Not only was Jean "Boucicaut" Le Maingre a great tactician and an adventurer, there has chronicles written around his training regimen that were the basis for most of the european knights.
youtube.com/watch?v=q-bnM5SuQkI

Audie "Manlet Fury" Murphy. Literally indisputable

Alexander the Great.
If by warrior you mean actual soldier, that one guy in Caesar's army who jumped out of the boat and rallied the Roman conquest of Britain.

Alexander is quite overrated tbqh
If you think about it, he took the disciplined army his father built and beat a single empire that fielded comparable number and kind of massive dick- he didn't add to the territory by any significant amount, but just took what he Persians already had. good, sure, but not that good.

Most of the Americans ballsy enough to bayonet charge died at Gettysburg.

>For France, any answer other than Boucicaut is wrong.
But that's wrong user. The right answer to who is the best French knight is a Breton knight. I mean whose corpse is buried alongside the Kings in Saint-Denis? I'll give you a hint. It's not Boucicaut.

Mad Jack Churchill has got to be up there due to sheer ballsiness.

>Represented Great Britain at the World Archery Championships in Oslo

>Leading 2 Commando, Churchill was ordered to capture a German observation post outside the town of Molina. With the help of a corporal, he infiltrated the town and captured the post, taking 42 prisoners including a mortar squad.

>Churchill was said to be unhappy with the sudden end of the war, saying: "If it wasn't for those damn Yanks, we could have kept the war going another 10 years!

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erich_Hartmann?wprov=sfla1

Breath in...

Breath out...

The dance of three heartbeats, a sonata in three parts lead by the thunderpulse of her own heart. She held her breath, forcing her heart to stop its frantic hammer-blows against her sternum as the crosshairs of her K98 danced over the nazi's drab uniform. The quiet dance in her belly lagged a half-beat behind, the twins filling her gravid middle playing along with their mother's pulse. Playing like little children should, happy and full of joy. They didn't know what the world was like, and Anne swore they would never know what it was like to live under the iron eagle.

Her grip tightened on her rifle's warn stock. It wouldn't be long now. She could already feel the tingle between her legs and the tightness in her already swollen belly. Labor would be on her soon, but she forced herself not to think about it. She'd spent so long, worked so hard for this one chance. She was not letting it slip past her.

As if they sensed their mother's focus, the twins in her womb stopped their dancing. For a moment, everything was quiet on the snowy hillside. The obergruppenfuhrer in her scope was clearly more worried about entertaining his dinner guests than anything else.

*Bang*

The rifle slammed back against her shoulder as a single spitzer-pointed bullet roared towards its mark. Anne knew her aim was true, but she couldn't trace the round through the air. The sock of the rifle had been enough. The last straw that sent her toppling off the cliff and into labor.

A shriek of pain was hastily quenched by gnashed teeth and thin lips. She forced herself to get up and run, forced herself to ignore the great weight swelling her womb. She needed to find safety. But she was so deep in occupied territory...

Anne forced herself to push past the weight. To push past the shuddering desire to just stop and relieve the extraordinary pressure pushing so desperately at the floor of her womb. She ignored the way her twins jostled with every step, squishing her lungs and making each breath of the chilly air that much harder before they came crashing down again.

The children... her babies seemed to recognize their mother's urgency. The playful dance they'd been enjoying ceased as she ran down the broken hillside. Her boots--stuffed with layers of socks and laced loose in the kindest gesture she could make to her swollen feet--stomped through the under grown with a mad fury.

She carried her rifle in one hand, balancing it by the scope and praying she wouldn't need to take another shot. Her heart was thundering and her muscles twitching from the flood of adrenaline battling with her primal maternal instinct to give birth. She'd pushed this as long as she could, she'd fought tooth and nail with her own body for every day and minute, but biology could only be denied for so long. She *needed* to give birth, and soon.

Her free hand cradled her belly, pressing tightly against the taper of her swollen womb in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable. If she could just get home. Get somewhere safe. Somewhere she could birth her twins. Somewhere she could let the labor pains encroaching on her even now have their way with her.

"*Actung!*" A crack rang out, and a dead tree exploded in sodden termite-eaten shrapnel.

Anne couldn't get low, not with her belly swollen almost to bursting. The best she could manage was flopping on her side and bracing her rifle against a fallen log. It wasn't the best shooting position, but...

*Bang!*

She made it work.

They were looking for an army. Jackbooted thugs in their proud black uniforms and polished metal helmets running from door to door like scolded puppies. They'd been the terror in the night once, now they were scared of the dark. Even daylight brought them no comfort, The Nazi soldiers twitched with fear at every shade down a side alley, every noise coming from a dead-end street.

They'd marched in as conquerors. Now they saw shotguns behind every door, and rifles behind every blade of grass. The SS had taken control, stormtroopers marched the streets and tanks clattered along at night, grinding cobblestone to chewed-up dust in their wakes. They'd locked down the city, secured every access point, guarded every depot.

There was no way any guerrilla army could survive. And it didn't, it *thrived.* Despite all their effort, despite everything they'd done, the bullets kept coming. Barely a day went by without a nazi breathing his last courtesy of a seven-nine-two spitzer.

They couldn't stop it because there was no army. There was just one girl. A girl on the edge of being a mother. A girl who would not let the twins growing in her womb know a world under nazi tyranny.

Anne walked the streets as best she could with her massive middle bulging her dress to its very limits. She felt ready to pop at any moment... then again the weight swelling her womb felt too heavy to bear for the past two months. Her clothes were almost comically small on her gravid frame, and every step was a throbbing reminder of the immense weight she carried. Those who glanced her way--many did, her massive belly broke up an otherwise startlingly slender figure--looked at her with pity or sympathy. Everyone suffered under the Nazis, she was hardly the first mother forced to make do with what clothe she had.

She was, however, the first mother to secret a silent British pistol under the swell of her middle.

She cradled her belly with both hands, both to reassure her growing twins that everything would be all right and to relieve some of the pressure against her taut skin. She was ready to give birth, she probably had been for the past several weeks. She woke up every day aching from the weight in her womb, and every step was a throbbing reminder of how very pregnant she'd become. But she would not let her twins know a world under the swastika and eagle. She would stay her womb, just one day more. She told herself that every morning, just one day more.

Slowly, a hand slipped from her belly to the package secured beneath it. The touch was ever so brief, but it sent a shiver up her spine. That hint of relief that she might so soon have. Soon, but not quite. She had one more mission to complete. One more at least.

The pistol slid from its makeshift sheath and into her hand like it was made to fit. She'd left a round in the chamber, all she had do was flick off the safety and spot her target. There, a stormtrooper trailing back at the end of his patrol.

She didn't smile, she hadn't in a year. But she moved with a casual purpose. She was nine months pregnant with twins, nobody could think a woman like her was any threat, could they? My, she could barely move from the weight distending her stomach and engorging her breasts. Surely she couldn't be a threat!

In one smooth motion, she brought her gun up, pressed it into the small of his back, and tore his spine apart with a single .32 bullet. A moment later, she shrieked in manufactured horror, and pointed her free hand down a deserted alleyway.

The stormtroopers, none of whom wanted to deal with a hysterical pregnant woman when the taste of finally catching the phantom army that'd been dogging them was in the air, bolted down the alleyway. Just as she'd hoped.

A certain chinese warlord you should not pursue

Step one was done. She'd taken her turn, now it was time for the Nazis to take theirs. If they played the game with the same oppressive dedication to brutal force above all else, they'd play right into her trap. But that would take time. A day, at least. She had to give the Germans time to dig their own graves. And that meant the hardest thing of all for her, waiting.

She secreted the pistol back where it came from, a shiver racing up her spine as the hot metal silencer kissed her tender flesh. She hated waiting. Waiting meant there was nothing for her to do but ponder her belly, she couldn't distract herself from the constant ache she'd learned to deal with, there was no way to get past the throbbing need she felt. She needed to give birth, any day now even her immense will wouldn't be enough to hold back her twins another second. She *needed* to give birth. She could feel twinges and hints of labor pulling at her already, but she forced herself to ignore them.

There wasn't time for that. Not now, not while *they* still ruled. But there was one thing she'd learned. A way to let the ache slip from her mind, if only for a moment. That one precious balm that soothed her aching belly and drove the nazis from her mind for a few precious moments.

She made her way home as quick as she could. Her massively swollen belly forced her into a comical waddle, and her heart beat a pounding thunder against her chest. She needed to get back, her body was throbbing with an overwhelming need for the one thing that'd eased her gravid aches.

You're busy zeroing one of her 'acquired' rifles when she comes through the door. Somehow, her massive bulging stomach is bigger than it was when she left this morning. Her skin's even tauter as she hurriedly tore open her comically small dress. Her naked belly and popped navel bulge like a larger imitation of her already engorged breasts.

"user," she straddles you. "I don't care if my water's about to break, I need it."

You're barely able to control her long enough to get off your chair and onto your back. She doesn't need to take much off. Even if she had a bra that fits, it wouldn't last long under her engorged bosom. There's no need for foreplay, the constant slosh of a womb strained to the very limit of it's capacity and well beyond that against her organs is enough for Anne, and just seeing the naked swell of a middle full of your children gets you the rest of the way. She knelt over you, straddling you with her massive belly resting against yours. It's heavy. You swear she gets heavier every time you come together, but as she grabs you with both hands, you suddenly don't care.

She could have a Tiger in her middle and it wouldn't matter, not with how you feel slipping in her tight slit. You sink into her as she rides you. A first slowly, she's so heavy she can barely manage more. But you get into her rhythm, working together against the Reich even as you work deeper into her sweet abyss. She's the first to moan, she's been bottling this all up all day. The thrill of the kill mingles with her natural hormones and drives her faster.

A moan from you now, it's all you can day. She's got you tight, each thrust driving your breakthrough deeper into her lines. She tries to contain your push, but her walls of flesh aren't strong enough to contain your lighting strokes. For almost half an hour the two of you are one. One body, one moaning flesh throbbing and dancing together. It'll be soon now, at least you hope. You've been telling yourself she's almost done for what feels like years, but she keeps finding ways to bring you closer.

Then you shudder, suddenly made of steel and gunpowder as you dump everything you have into her. She feels it too, a moan longer and higher than before purring through her lips. Her back arches and her eyes roll back. Then in a breath, it's finished.

She falls, exhausted and content at your side, and you brush a strand of hair from her sweaty face before resting your head against her breasts. Tomorrow, there will be the war, the nazis, and the resistance. But right now... it's just you and Anne.

This has got to stop.

Oh don't mind me, just doing a little /k/ounter-offensive ;)

Feel free to visit /wfg/ if you want more.

This nigga. We are talking here about the best fighter not the best leader of men.

> Richard the Lionheart
> besiege castle
> become so sick with scurvy he can't walk
> has his stretcher bearers carry him close enough to the wall so he can shoot a crossbow at the defenders

I like this guy.

>kills hundreds of enemy soldiers with a shitty Mosin Nagant knockoff

Sounds pretty warrior-like to me

Sauce

Also, did he hit anything?

Yes

How is this even a contest?

"Philip and his friends looked on at first in silence and anxiety for the result, till seeing him turn at the end of his career, and come back rejoicing and triumphing for what he had performed, they all burst out into acclamations of applause; and his father shedding tears, it is said, for joy, kissed him as he came down from his horse, and in his transport said, 'O my son, look thee out a kingdom equal to and worthy of thyself, for Macedonia is too little for thee' " (Alex. 6.8.).

Lionheart is pretty based. Some of the crazy shit he did in his life like the amphibious assault, charging after his foes unarmoured, and having to be dragged back by his own men because he wanted to be first over the wall. I mean how did he sit on a horse with balls that big?

Both would probably be best bro since they can understand each other's need to lead by example in the front and both also continued their acts of bravary even when they where near death.

They may have understood each other, and Lionheart surely admired the Great, but I doubt they would be have been friends if they'd known one another given how prideful each was.
Just look how they interacted with men of similar power in their days.

>Be Leper
>Endure unbearable pain
Pick one.

It's odd, generally similarities create bonds between people, and yet it is by virtue of their shared pride and greatness that men of high calibre must always be at each other's throats.

You have a point there though in both cases most other rulers of similar power to them where a lot tamer then they where and where viewed as insane.
(They where probably right about Lionheart)

It's fair to say that neither of them were mentally normal. In both cases I'd trace it back to the parents. It's funny how similar the two men really are.
Philip and Henry were both accomplished kings and warlords never wanting to give up any of their own authority with bad relationships with their son and heir.
Meanwhile Olympias and Eleanor both the most powerful women of their times. Adore their sons more than anyone else in the world. Both raise them to be story book heroes and later push them to be.

I bet you could socially engineer conquerors through fucked up family lives.... excuse me I have to call the Pentagon about a new proposal.

Literally lu bu not even mentioned once

>hand cut off
>get a new one made of magnetized metal so you can keep killing people for a living
>become such an unsung legend that a Japanese comic-book artist bases his most acclaimed hero on you without ever having heard of you through unconscious memetic osmosis
It has to be Gotz Von Berlichingen

Osama bin Laden

>expecting a predominantly western site to know things about asian history

>expecting anybody to take Lu Bu seriously when most of his reputation is thanks to the highly fictionalized RotTK

Napoleon did kill Brits with his sword during the storming of a fortress at Toulon
But yeag indeed he wasn't the "greatest warrior" of all times when it comes to fighting himself
Such a person is unknown because history remembers generals, not "strong warriors" who kill 100 enemies before dying themselves in a random battle
The only "people" matching this description remembered by history are fictious ones (Achilles...etc)

I swear to God burgers are the dumbest creatures that ever lived on this planet

>shitty Mosin Nagant knockoff
Finnish made Mosins were superior to Soviet or Russian ones. Many consider them equal to Mausers.

These dudes.

Claimed to have cleaved a man in half in a duel in Sicily.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Covadonga have you edited the Casualties?

Some butthurt mudslime did a week ago.

Tell me, if you have an army nearly 200,000 strong, who the fuck in their right mind would quit after losing only a 1000?

A neapolitan of Asian Warlords

>win the battle with only 11 guys left
the 60,000 muslims left must be real cowards if they didnt think they had a chance against 11 dudes.