I Love  Attila because it transports me to an awful window of history at no cost to my wellbeing. Drop me into a real-life dark age settlement on the Eurasian Steppe and I would immediately die, killed by a rampaging horseman’s spear and dragged off for animal feed.

I cope with my imagined victimhood by siding with the barbarians. It’s good to be the Huns, the horsiest of the Steppe nomads in an era when horses were overpowered. Horses can’t punch through a castle wall, but that doesn’t matter, because Huns don’t need castles.


I like to march right up to the next settlement I plan to raze, and set up camp outside their gates, daring their garrisons to come out onto the open field to try their luck. They always do, the fools.
This is the best thing about horses, apart from their lovely big faces
Then I have them. I disrupt some blocks of infantry with cavalry charges, and let others through. Once their line is a mess I disengage most of my speedy mounted force and redeploy, picking off isolated units until enemy morale is shattered.

This is the best thing about horses, apart from their lovely big faces: they can leave a fight whenever they like, then run back really fast, again and again, until everyone is dead. One day people will invent guns and horses will no longer rule the world, but not this day. I plan to keep riding, to Rome and beyond.