Sunday 9 August 2020

“Get off my farm!” – The Battle for Schweindorf (part 1/2): a narrative Warhammer mini-campaign

Having waxed lyrical about narrative wargaming in the previous article, it seems only fitting to take you through a recent mini-campaign Niklas (of Old World Lives podcast fame) and I played. It was all the sweeter for being the only wargaming I’ve managed to do since lockdown.

As per my article, the key is to not go too over-the-top with organisation if time and resources are limited. As I was busy finishing painting my 1,000 points Empire list, the only preparation involved was to dream up a story and sequence of events… and to paint piggies.

We decided to switch between 3 different rules systems: Warhammer Fantasy 6th edition, Warhammer Warbands & Warhammer Skirmish.

To give an idea of available time, we started at around 3pm on a Sunday (after the obligatory pint to help one of the local pubs after lockdown) and played three games that day, followed by a quick fourth game the next morning.

 
^^^ Socially-distanced and with lockdown locks which had to be heavily tamed with conditioner.

A Free-Range Funeral

In the dense woods of the north of the Empire, close by the border with Kislev, lies Schweindorf.

Marcus von Schweindorf*
Schweindorf is an unusually charming village for such a remote place. Its main source of revenue is the wild pigs which roam under the oak trees, feeding on acorns.

The best that could be said of the local land-owner, Baron Marcus von Schweindorf, was that he was relatively easy to ignore – despite his eccentric lime green clothes, corpulent profile and booming voice. Marcus rarely ventured into the village and his only ambition was to hunt the wild boars which disturbed his pigs. When Marcus died by hitting a low branch while riding his long-suffering shire-horse – the only beast strong enough to take his weight – it might have seemed a little ungrateful of the pigs to have consumed his corpse. The baron’s absence went unnoticed for some time and his fate was only understood when his ostentatious lime green cap was found.

His Kislevite wife – or I should say widow – the charismatic Lady Anjelina made an unconvincing show of public grief. In secret, she sent word across the border to her suspected lover, Boyar Zhukov, that Schweindorf was ready for the taking. Some wagging tongues in the village said the same was true of the widow herself, but that is another matter.

*A failed artist's impression of the baron, based on 'Falstaff' by Eduard von Grützner.

The wealth of Schweindorf


Game 1: “Get off my farm” – Warhammer Warbands, 250pts

Bold Sergeant Sigmund
Sigmund peered through the trees. The scouts had not been wrong. On the far side of the cottage used by a local swineherd he could see riders. Their curved blades, bare torsos and ridiculous pony-tail haircuts could only mean one thing: Kislevites.

He could not tell how many were there. This could be a small patrol or the vanguard of a large army. His stroked his thick forked beard as he weighed up his options. The sensible thing would be to head back and report to Friedrich. But a doubt gnawed at him. The Fox Lord liked his men to be decisive and he did not want to seem a coward. On the other hand, he knew how furious Friedrich had been when Captain Ludwig had taken on a Dwarf force only a few months earlier. Though he had brought back some treasure, it had cost the lives of a dozen men – and Friedrich could not easily replace them. Still, he had little choice; this seemingly insignificant farm was far too close to the Fox Lord’s lair to let it fall into hostile hands.

He turned to one of the young pistoliers who sought their fortune serving Friedrich.

“Tell your master that we have encountered an enemy scouting party of unknown strength near Schweindorf and that I intend to engage them immediately.”

The young man nodding, swept back his immaculate locks, donned his helmet and galloped of.

“Posh boys….” muttered Sigmund, shaking his head. “Right you lot. Let’s teach these scoundrels a lesson. This is our farm now.”


Game 1 rules & set-up

For this scenario, we opted to use the Warhammer Warband rules. They’re ideal for little patrol encounters, as they’re faster to use than Skirmish (which is a bit clunky for more than a dozen men) and take into account unit sizes. It means you have to gamble between having larger units that stand a decent chance of winning combats or having more small units that are manoeuvrable.

Each side had 250pts and we would be fighting to control a swineherd’s hut. These were the forces, so far as I can remember.

Empire force

- Commander: Sergeant Sigmund (leading the spearmen)

- 9 Spearmen with standard, musician, light armour and shields

- 6 Huntsmen with longbows

- 6 Halberdiers (I forgot during this game that they get free light armour)

- 3 Pistoliers (the “Posh Boys”)

 

Kislev force

Commander: Kossar Champion Zoltan (leading one unit of kossars)

- 3 Kossars with great weapons and bows

- 3 Kossars with great weapons and bows

- 3 Kossars with great weapons and bows

- 3 Ungol Horse Archers

- 2 Ungol Horse Archers

Note: every single Kislevite carries a bow, but they are outnumbered due to their high points cost and Niklas’ choice to take 2 units of cavalry.

The fight

The hut was just off-centre, closer to the Kislevite board edge, to represent the head-start Anjelina’s message gave them. I deployed my huntsmen in the woods nearest to the hut. My halberdiers went up the left flank and my pistoliers – with their envious 16” marching speed – hung back behind trees on the right flank. The spearmen would go straight up the centre. My progress was slowed somewhat slowed by the number of woods of my side, though they did offer cover against all those bows.

The Kislevites focused on the objective, with all three units of kossars moving to occupy the courtyard with its wall. The larger unit of horse archers supported them opposite my centre. The smaller unit of horse archers moved towards my halberdiers on my flank.

Not wanting to expose my fragile pistoliers to 10 bow shots over at least 2 turns (no Light Brigade are they!), I moved them behind my spearmen, hoping to get stuck in promptly. At that angle, Niklas had few targets. My huntsmen failed to make any kills at all. His 2 horse archers on my left soon took out enough halberdiers to force a panic test. My brave halberdiers turned tail and ran.

I used my huntsmen to taunt the kossars at the wall, but they sensibly held back. Though the wall made me nervous, I knew I had to get stuck in; the spearmen had already lost 2 men. Sigmund led them in a charge against the two unit of kossars at the wall. The wall was too much of an obstacle though and the Kislevites’ great weapons took their toll. Sigmund was forced to flee with only four fellow spearmen left.

Meanwhile, the halberdiers on the left flank rallied and the huntsmen sent a volley of arrows which killed one of the two riders on that flank, causing the other to flee.

Things were looking good for Niklas, though, who had control of both sides of the hut thanks to the other unit of horse archers arriving on my left.

 

The wheel of fortune

Niklas sent his other unit of horse archers – 3-men strong – around the hut to have a go at the rallied halberdiers. The huntsmen unexpectedly killed 2 of them in one turn, prompting the third to flee. The halberdiers thus had a clear path – but they were painfully far away.

To my surprise, Niklas decided that the halberdiers might just get round the hut in time to encircle the kossars and so sent one unit over the wall to charge the huntsmen! My pistoliers needed no further invitation and swiftly crashed into their flank, 6 pistols blazing. Though the antics had reduced the huntsmen to 4 men, the kossars were destroyed.

At this point, Zoltan decided he had had enough of this mucking about and took the situation into his own hands. His unit of kossars shot at the 3 halberdiers who had finally made it around the hut, killing 2 of them, before taking position at the wall. The surviving halberdier had a daunting challenge.

 

Peter’s charge

Peter gasped. His friends had just been killed before his eyes, pierced by wickedly accurate arrows. He peered around the hut and saw two fearsome Kislevites waiting, taunting him in their savage tongue, brandishing their heavy axes in his direction. He was a fair-haired farm boy of barely 16. His parents had never shown him much love and he had run away. In the fox Lord’s lair, he had found a new home. More than that; he had found a new family. He knew his duty. Lord Friedrich would never hide behind a swineherd’s hut.

Peter braced himself, took a deep breath, and charged. As he neared the jeering men, his foot slipped on pig muck, sending him sprawling head-first. He didn’t even see the axe that came down to end his life.

Back at the wall, the pistoliers charged, only to be shot clean out of their saddles. Sigmund’s spears were already running away as fast as they could through the woods.

In the end, it came down to this: Zoltan and a fellow kossar, behind their wall, against 3 huntsmen. The huntsmen weighed up the odds, seeing little chance of victory, and lossed their arrows.

Every. Single. Arrow. Struck.

The fall of Zoltan

Zoltan heard the man beside him fall to the ground, looked up, and saw an arrow fly towards him. He tried to duck, but the range was too short. It buried itself into his neck. As he gurgled blood, a grizzly huntsman approached him.

The man kicked him to the ground.

“Next time someone tells you to get off their farm, you get off their farm.”

So that, dear reader, was game 1; and what a game it was! For most of the first half we were sure Niklas wound win. Then his luck turned and I felt confident of victory. Then it was down to his 2 fearsome kossars aginst my 3 feeble huntsmen and I despaired again. But luck was with me and I won – just.

 

Game 2: “Shoot the Messenger” – Warhammer Skirmish, 100 pts + a hero

Oleg attempts a breakthrough
Oleg cursed. Where had those soldiers come from? Lady Anjelina had told them the only troops for miles where the late Baron’s inept bodyguard who now served her, yet here were battle-hardened warriors bearing the insignia of the Fox Lord. Oleg had heard reports of this mysterious and troublesome new arrival. No one seemed to know quite whence he came and yet his power was growing rapidly.

He needed to get back to warn the others that an army was in the area. Looking behind him, he could see archers moving through the trees. He’d have to make a dash for it.

“Come on lads. We’re going that way.” He pointed through the trees. “Split up and ride hard. Whatever happens, one of us must make it back to our lines. Stop for nothing.”

Game 2 rules & set-up

For this game, we chose the Warhammer skirmish rules, as they would allow us to have lots of single models and no clumsy wheeling; ideal for this game’s story.

One of the quirks of Warhammer Skirmish is that when a person is wounded on a 6, they suffer 2 hits without armour save. For any wounds (critical or not) which aren’t save, they are not automatically killed. Instead, you roll a D6 to determine whether they are knocked down (lie on their back), stunned (lie on their front) or out of action (killed).

If they are knocked out, they take one turn to get up and – if attacked – all attacks against them hit automatically. If they are stunned, they take 2 turns to get up (1 turn stunned, then 1 turn knocked down). Any stunned model who is attacked is automatically killed.

We decided it would be fitting for a small force of light cavalry to represent Kislevite messengers desperate to warm their commander that a renegade imperial army was in the area. To face them would be a small mixed force representing the Fox Lord’s scouts.

The Kislevites’ objective was to get a single rider off the opposite table edge. The catch: we would play length-ways on a 6’x4’ table and I was allowed to deploy my men anywhere. The table had narrow corridors between trees and marshland.


The postman always knocks you out twice

Despite the Skirmish special rules, this game was by far the quickest of the three. I chose to spread my archers in a line across the middle of the table, with 2 pistoliers in reserve. Niklas wisely sent all his 5 riders down one side and, after quite feeble resistance from my archers, the Kislevites punched their way through. There was simply too much space for me to hope to block all five with my two pistoliers and so I reluctantly conceded defeat.

Nonetheless, it was a really fun game that has me scratching my head over what I would do differently next time.

Ahead of the main battle, we had each scored a victory.

 

As this post is getting rather long and pic-heavy, I shall continue this tale later.

To be continued...


Wednesday 5 August 2020

"Sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...": the delights of narrative wargaming

An origins story – May 1998

Cast your minds back to May 1998. It was a time of baggy T-shirts, Goblin Green bases, bright red axes, and we were still 2 months away from David Beckham getting sent off against Argentina in the Men’s Football World Cup, with all the heart-ache that followed (especially for an Englishman then living in France).

David Beckham illustrating why you shouldn't quibble over the rules


The White Dwarf that month was issue 221 (with a Chaos champion on the front cover). In this remarkable issue:

·         Nigel Stillman continued to build 2,000 points of Bretonnians

·         the original Tale of Four Gamers had reached part 4 and about 1,500 pts

·         16 famous named characters fought in a cup called the ‘Arena of Death’

·         7 gamers got together in the Perry brothers’ war room to play a huge 24,000 points battle

The most interesting thing about it, though, is that these now near-legendary articles are all united by one common theme: narrative wargaming.

A true treasure trove issue!


In fact, in its pages, both Tuomas Pirinen’s ‘Soapbox’ and an 8-page article by Dave Cain with numerous contributors go into great detail about the ‘Spirit of the Game’. Perhaps the most memorable part of this was the now immortal Stillmania rules, in which Nigel Stillman sets out his wonderfully silly, fair-play, and eccentric guide to wargaming.

What is ‘narrative wargaming’ and why bother?

Some wargamers enjoy the painting part, others the playing part, and many are simply fetishist collectors with piles of unopened boxes – but there are those who want total immersion in the Warhammer universe. I like to call this ‘narrative wargaming’.

The best way I can describe it is a child’s imagination. As a child, when you’re given little soldiers, you lose yourself in imagination, creating a story behind these figurines. They’re not simply knights moving across a table, but valiant heroes and terrible villains. You forget the real world for hours on end and just pretend you’re in another world.

Once upon a time

In narrative wargaming, I find the best place to begin is with a story. Don’t worry too much about competitive lists or colour-themes or unit choices. They will all flow from the story.

e.g.: My army is based around Friedrich, the son of a minor nobleman from Talabecland who fought in a dual over a woman and killed his rival. The girl’s father – a wealthy and greedy merchant who wanted her to marry to a well-placed courtier – accused him of murder and heresy. Friedrich was forced to flee into the depths of the forest and now goes by the name of the Fox Lord.

With that in mind, his followers are likely to be woodsmen armed with bows and axes, the occasional outcast knight, a shamed general who acts as his second-in-command, and pistoliers who are aspiring adventurers who seek to make a name (and booty) for themselves rather than go through the tedium of serving a more civilised lord who rarely fights. Of course, this wouldn’t be complete without a hermit-wizard with the Lore of the Beasts (one of the least useful lores out there).


When the narrative side becomes an obsession

Rather than make the list competitive or more conventional, I stuck to the theme; just the one cannon, no Hellblasters or flagellants, nor any handguns.

I chose minis to fit the bill, added plenty of fox fur, filed off the Sigmarite insignia (they follow Taal, the river god) and added plenty of bushes and fallen leaves.

Next I gave every character and unit a name (the sillier the better; the griffon is called ‘Gary’).

Finally, I made a display base (which I’m hoping to finish soon), which gives the army’s history, shows a forest scene and contains the odd comic detail (hounds chasing a gnoblar, etc.).

 

The beauty (and pitfalls) of narrative wargaming

·         It gives free flow to your imagination

Once you have a background for your force, preferably based around a charismatic leader with a suitably convoluted back-story, you’ll find that loads of ideas come to mind for colour-schemes, conversions, kit-bashes, scenery, and scenarios. If they’re based on the shores of Bordeleaux, a beach landing scenario is an obvious option. If they are dwarf traders, a series of skirmishes with greenskin tribes trying to steal their merchandise would give plenty of ambush and last stand games.

Themed scenery is a great way of getting that narrative feel


·         It’s just as fun with small games as with big armies – and makes it easier for people to join the hobby

Fighting with big armies is fun. Who doesn’t like fielding everything they have or working towards the common ‘standard’ 2,000 points? But I like to vary the size of the force.

Firstly, it takes time to buy, build and paint 2,000 points. If you’re just starting out or want to muster a new army, try painting a few small units. Nothing is a greater motivation to paint (for me at least) than the prospect of being able to play Vs the shame of fielding bare grey plastic/metal. And starting small also helps build an army that suits your style. You can test its strengths and weaknesses and tweak your list before committing too much time and money. And, of course, it means you can take that bit more time in converting models to fit your theme.

Secondly – and even more importantly - some of the most fun games I’ve played only involved a handful of minis. The key to fun, for me, seems to be having clear objectives and a strong narrative. It’s the classic actor’s line: ‘so what’s my motivation here?’ Warriors and generals surpass themselves when there is something real and tangible at stake. As Jim Butler says in his contribution to the Spirit of the Game article, “a Warhammer battle isn’t a game of chess, it’s a story”.

Thirdly, you can fit in more games if some of them are short and sweet. Games with 10 men per side often have just as many memorable moments as pitched battles.

e.g.: I recently played one ridiculously fun game in which my opponent and I were both trying to catch pigs that were running across the battlefield – and why not?!

Bringing home the bacon


·         It’s fun even when you lose

When the game is a story, it’s just as much fun when you lose as when you win. You’ve written another chapter – you haven’t finished the book. This has the added benefit of reducing the temptation to quibble over the rules; nothing crushes the spirit of a game faster than arguing over the rules. I find the best solution is to always give my opponent the benefit of the doubt. If it turns out I was right after the battle, they can just buy me a pint of Bugman’s.


·         It’s also fun to play against an unbalanced force

While playing against an opponent of equal size is always a fun challenge, the great battles that echo through the ages tend to be when small underdogs have pulled off stunning victories (like Agincourt) or even when they’ve bravely died trying (like Thermopylae). So why not play some deliberately unfair David Vs Goliath fights?  


·         It gives you an excuse to paint loads of extra characters

If you’re fighting a series of linked battles and skirmishes, there’s every chance you will lose a character at some point. Rather than have him reappear immediately in the next battle, I find it fun to paint up additional characters who can take over – including simply to relieve an incompetent general of his command after a defeat. This is a great chance to paint some of the models you’ve always loved but never really needed for your list. It’s also particularly handy in skirmishes and warbands, where the situation might dictate different weapons (you wouldn’t arm yourself with a pike to go on a night-time forest patrol, now, would you?).

If you are having a weekend of wargaming set in a different location to where your army is usually based, it can be yet another reason to indulge in conversions. You don’t need to paint a whole new army in order to get the theme. Going to invade Lustria? All you need to do is convert a few empire soldiers into pirates and sprinkle them into your existing units – or even hire Long Drong’s Slayer Pirates. Going into Kislev? Maybe it’s the chance to treat yourself to a unit of horse archers using the dogs of war rules.

Adding in the occasional character or converted unit is a great way to adapt your army
to the theme without forking out too much money


·         You can mix gaming systems

You might have one campaign or series of fights, but nothing is stopping you from mixing things up between games. In the Warhammer world, we really are spoilt. There’s Warhammer Fantasy Battles for your set-piece battles, but also Warbands for smaller fights and Warhammer Skirmish for your super-quick games. If that’s not enough choice, you can even vary by using the Mordheim rules in some fights (a group of travellers fleeing from a big battle find themselves in the Damned City) or even Bloodbowl (‘let’s settle this fight in the old way, by fighting over a ball’)!


·         Try not to take it too seriously or be over-ambitious at first

Sometimes, with the best intentions, narrative wargaming can simply turn into a headache and a burden. The most common reason for this is being over-ambitious or excessively organised.

e.g.: Say you want to run a campaign. If you organise it so that 4 or 5 people take part and you want everyone to play the same number of games and move across a map, it means you have to find regular dates when all 4 or 5 people can get together. Yet we all know how many weeks or months can go by between games, as real life often gets in the way.

What do you remember about these campaigns? How they were organised...
or the awesome settings, conversions and thematic scenery?

Try not to get too hung up on organisation and special rules, nor on ensuring everyone has to be present each time. Instead, make it easy for people to dip in and out. Remember: friendly trash-talk and grudges will entice people back more than rigid rules.

Which brings me onto…


·         Remember your grudges

This is stereotypically true for Dwarf players, but is equally true of most factions. Nations’ histories are a cumulation of deeds. In the real world, we have the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Norse sagas. In the Warhammer world, we have the Book of Grudges, the Annals of the Empire and Felix Jaeger’s “Travels with Gotrek Gurnisson”. Not only does it add spice and permit a lot of healthy trash-talk between players, but it also generates new scenario ideas and objectives. Actually having a physical book in which your record your grudges can bring additional flavour. How many times have I heard the words “that’s it; it’s going in the book”?

e.g.: My second-in-command recently stole a dwarf relic during a battle in which the dwarfs outnumbered my men of the Empire 2 to 1. So my regular dwarf opponent will no doubt go out of his way to settle the score by killing him – even if that risks jeopardising his battle plan. Whereas on my side, the annals read “and in this year a large dwarf army was found in the lands of the Fox Lord, and a battle was met, and there was great slaughter until none but Captain Ludwig the Lost escaped with his life. And the Fox Lord did hear these grave tidings and did swear terrible vengeance upon the dwarfs for their impunity.”


·         Oh, it’s such a perfect day…

Of course, if you do want to get carried away, that’s great too. In January, I attended an incredible 2-day event based on the Dark Shadows campaign in Albion, with a detailed map, 3 teams, and a packet of special rules. But the reason why it was a success is that the organisers did lots of play-testing, made the mechanics relatively simple, required payment in advance (a great way of ensuring people actually turn up on the day) and had back-up armies in case people didn’t show up. It can be done; it just takes A LOT of time and effort. If like me you are a mere mortal, I’d recommend starting with simpler narrative wargaming and putting your efforts into the theme.

        

A rare and wonderful example of an organised campaign
running smoothly (and actually taking place)

 The golden rule

But ultimately there is only one rule: if you and your opponent think it sounds fun, do it – unless he is a servant of Slaanesh, in which case you might want to find an excuse to run away from whatever the indecent proposition is.

I hope you've enjoyed this article - now get back to painting!