Pushing figures around

Briefings from Headquarter

Message from Divisional HQ (Prussian/German)

The French have gathered new forces beyond the Loire River. They shall not get to rest or regain any strength. We will hit them and teach them that the only way to end this war is to surrender.

With our courageous General Von der Tann leading our Bavarian Second Corps, and with the stout support of a full Prussian division, we have all the tools to succeed. The future of German unification rests on our shoulders. The first step is to win this battle. Take control of the immediate tactical objectives to your front, and seize the important railroad town of Arteny, to disrupt any offensive plans the French might have. Germany is watching.

Message from Divisional HQ (French)

Our esteemed commander, General Motte-Rouge, has been urged forward by the eager leaders of our new Republic to relieve pressure on our besieged capital, Paris. Although unprepared and lacking troops, he has agreed to face the enemy. He now counts on you and your men to do your utmost for La Patrie. Don’t forget, we might be outnumbered, but we are French. Let the enemy taste the Chassepot, and pay for his intrusion into our heartland of the Loire. Hold the important railroad town of Artenay and look out for the tactical features like hills and local farmhouses to gain the upper hand in the coming battle.

After Action Report – Battle of Artenay

The battle opened with remarkable speed as French Hussars galloped across the countryside, seizing the vital supply routes before the Prussian advance could properly deploy. Their daring charge secured the key objectives and ensured a steady flow of men and ammunition to the front, giving the French the initiative from the opening moments.

Prussian infantry pressed forward in disciplined formation to contest the ground, but by then the French had already begun reinforcing their captured positions with fresh infantry. Every passing minute strengthened the Republican line and made dislodging it an increasingly difficult task.

Recognising the danger, the Prussian commanders ordered their Krupp artillery into action. Shells rained down upon the exposed Hussars, scattering riders and exacting a heavy toll on the cavalry that had first secured the objectives. Despite the bombardment, the sacrifice of the Hussars had already achieved its purpose.

As the battle developed, both armies exchanged steady volleys of rifle fire. French Chassepots and Prussian needle guns cracked across the fields while artillery continued to thunder in the background. Neither side could claim a decisive advantage in the firefight alone, but the French retained firm control of the supply routes, allowing a constant stream of reinforcements and ammunition to sustain their defence.

By the day’s end, the Prussian attacks had been blunted. Although their infantry fought with determination and their artillery inflicted significant losses, the battle had effectively been decided in the opening minutes. The bold seizure of the supply routes by the French Hussars proved the decisive act of the engagement, securing a hard-fought victory for France and forcing the Prussians to withdraw to regroup for the next campaign.

Sorry folks, but no actual report for this one due to being a bit frazzled after a day of games.

Suffice to say that this is Mythos, and you can find out all about it HERE

In short, it’s a cracking good skirmish game with small gangs going up against each other to complete objectives.  In the scenario we played, we were searching for hidden books to improve our arcane powers.

I’ve played it a couple of times now and find it a nice little game for whittling away an hour or so.

So, I signed myself up to play in a short Last Days campaign.   I have not played this before, despite it sitting on my shelf for years.

I decided to base my little group of survivors on clear plastic bases and paint them in a similar style to my 5 Parsecs from Home things I have been doing recently.   I figured that they may come in useful as generic types in that setting, too.

I don’t think I will do a full story following this little campaign, as I did for Burrows and Badgers.  Mainly because it is quite time-consuming, and I am already doing a 5 Parsecs from Home Campaign Project.

I did do a little intro for each of my starting characters though.

______________________________

Officer Ryan Mercer.

Before the world fell apart, Ryan Mercer was a beat cop walking the streets of Detroit. He spent his days answering domestic disputes, breaking up fights, checking on vulnerable residents and dealing with the endless stream of problems that came with life in a struggling city. When the dead began to rise, Mercer found himself on the front line of a disaster no police officer had ever been trained to face. As society collapsed around him, he gathered a handful of survivors and led them to safety, relying on his instincts, determination and refusal to abandon those in need. Now the badge he once wore means little, but people still look to him for guidance. Leading a ragtag group of survivors through the ruins of Detroit, Mercer does everything he can to keep them alive in a world where hope is becoming increasingly scarce. “I used to protect people from each other. Now I protect them from the dead.”

__________

Marcus “Mack” Washington

Marcus Washington spent fifteen years as a firefighter in Detroit, running toward danger while everyone else ran away. When the dead began to rise, he was among the first emergency responders thrown into the chaos. The collapse of society cost him his station, his crew and nearly his life. Now he roams the ruined streets armed with the same fire axe he once used to break down doors and rescue civilians. Mack is stubborn, dependable and driven by a need to help others, even when common sense says he should walk away. In a world filled with monsters, both living and dead, he remains determined to save whoever he can. “The fires may have gone out, but the job isn’t finished.”

____________________

David Carter

Before the outbreak, David Carter dedicated his life to helping others. He spent his days volunteering at a local second-hand charity store, worked as a youth social worker helping troubled teenagers find a better path, and taught first aid to a neighbourhood Scout group. When society collapsed and the dead began to walk, David refused to abandon the values that had guided him for years. While others focused solely on survival, he continued to care for the injured, comfort the frightened and protect those who could not protect themselves. Though he carries a knife now instead of a first aid manual, David remains the conscience of the group—a reminder that humanity is worth preserving, even when the world seems determined to forget it. “If we lose our compassion, the zombies have already won.”

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Sister Maria Holloway

Before the world ended, Maria Holloway devoted her life to God and the service of others. As a nun, she spent her days tending to the poor, comforting the sick and offering hope to those who had none. Then the dead rose. To Maria, the walking dead are souls that have refused their final rest, trapped in a mockery of life. Armed with a rifle and an unshakable sense of duty, she now travels the ruins of Detroit delivering what she sees as a final mercy to those who should have gone to Heaven the first time. Each day tests her faith. The horrors she has witnessed would break many people, yet she continues to pray for the living and the dead alike. Though she still believes in God’s plan, she often wonders why she was left behind to witness its darkest chapter. “Blessed are the dead who rest in peace. I merely help them find the way.”

____________________

Emily “Em” Parker

Emily Parker learned early that nobody was coming to save her. When the outbreak hit Detroit, she watched her family torn apart one by one. Her older brother disappeared during the evacuation. Her younger sister was taken by the dead while searching for food. Alone and frightened, Emily survived by making one simple rule: put yourself first. Years later, that ruthless practicality has kept her alive when countless others have fallen. Despite her young age, she’s become an exceptional marksman, capable of placing accurate shots at distances most adults struggle with. Nobody is quite sure where she learned to shoot so well, and Emily rarely talks about her past. Cautious, independent and slow to trust, she often clashes with those who believe everyone deserves a second chance. Yet when the shooting starts, there are few people the group would rather have watching their back. “Trust gets people killed. Distance and good aim keep you alive.”

____________________

Princess

Nobody knows how the giant pink poodle survived the end of the world. Some say she escaped from a wealthy family’s mansion. Others insist she belonged to a celebrity before everything fell apart. Whatever the truth, Princess still proudly wears the bright pink coat that once made her the centre of attention. In a world of blood, ash and decay, the sight of a perfectly groomed pink poodle seems almost absurd. Yet beneath the ridiculous appearance lies a fiercely loyal companion with a surprising talent for sensing danger long before the survivors do. While the world has descended into darkness, Princess remains a stubborn reminder of happier times. Her bright pink fur is a mockery of the apocalypse itself—a splash of colour that refuses to surrender to the grey misery surrounding it. The dead may roam the streets, but Princess carries herself as if civilisation never ended. “The world has gone to hell. Princess didn’t get the memo.”

The first intro game was a dash for supplies.   No story write-up of this one, I am afraid, suffice to say that Zombies stick around a bit.  It’s not a bad game, but it does have some unnecessary maths involved, which could probably be streamlined, and the rulebook is not the easiest to navigate.  But it does make a fun game nonetheless.

Managed to get a couple of very quick Chain of Command intro games in.

The first was mainly focused on infantry, and the second included some light armour to show how they worked.

The armour didn’t necessarily fit in with the infantry, as we had early-war stuff mixed with late-war stuff, but as this was just about learning the mechanics, we really didn’t mind.

No actual battle report this time around, I’m afraid, as these were really just about rolling some dice and putting models on the table.   I did enjoy the games and will play some more.  I do need to add some light vehicles to my collection so that I don’t have to borrow someone else’s.

Anyway, here are a few pictures of the games.

The Mask of Tetamutu

The makeshift settlement, a huddle of wood and mud structures and shelters nestled between the emerald wall of the rainforest and the golden expanse of the Savannah plains. The air pulsed with the chirping of cicadas and the distant roar of a lion.

In the heart of the camp, Colonel Jameson, a grizzled explorer, and Captain Patel, a retired military officer, pored over maps and expedition notes. Their team – eight Sikh guards in crisp turbans, ten Ruga-Ruga warriors with old muskets, and three adventurers, Rhea, Jax, and Liam – mingled nearby, swapping stories of past exploits.

“…and then, the tribe leader hands me this beauty,” Jax said, gesturing to the Mask of Tetamutu, an ornate gold piece glinting in the sunlight. “Said it grants wisdom and power.”

Rhea rolled her eyes. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

Jax grinned. “Hey, it’s gold. I’m not complaining.”

Meanwhile, unseen by the camp, a Belgian force crept through the tall grass. Dr. Van der Meer knelt beside Commander Lebrun. “The mask is here. We’ll take it tonight. Understood?”

Lebrun nodded, eyes fixed on the camp. “22 Askaris, 5 tribal warriors. We’ll hit at dusk.”

As the sun dipped, casting the camp in golden light, Morale was high. Colonel Jameson raised a flask. “To Tetamutu’s mask! May it lead us to greater discoveries!”

The team cheered.

In the shadows, the Belgian force crept closer.

As dusk deepened, the camp settled into a mix of laughter and wary quiet. Sikh guards patrolled the perimeter, Ruga-Ruga warriors checked their weapons, and the adventurers cleaned their gear. The Mask of Tetamutu sat in Colonel Jameson’s tent, guarded by Sikhs.

In the tall grass, Dr. Van der Meer whispered, “Go.”

The Belgian force surged forward, Askaris and tribal warriors fanning out. Lebrun raised his rifle.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the makeshift settlement in a warm orange glow. Colonel Jameson raised a flask. “To Tetamutu’s mask! May it lead us to greater discoveries!”

The team cheered, their faces flushed with excitement. The eight Sikh guards, ten Ruga-Ruga warriors, and three adventurers, Rhea, Jax, and Liam, mingled, swapping stories of past exploits.

But amidst the celebration, a stealthy threat crept closer. Dr. Van der Meer’s Belgian force, comprising 22 Askaris and 5 tribal warriors, emerged from the tall grass. “The mask is here,” Van der Meer whispered. “We’ll take it tonight.”

At 18:50 hours, the Belgians opened fire. The Sikhs returned accurate, heavy fire, pinning the attackers down. Commander Lebrun was forced to take cover beneath a stilt house as troops around him fell, mortally wounded.

The Ruga-Ruga warriors swiftly flanked the Belgians, their shots finding targets in the darkness. The Askaris began to retreat in disarray, and the Belgians withdrew, leaving behind a trail of wounded and dead.

As the dust settled, Colonel Jameson surveyed the scene. “Well done, men. The Mask of Tetamutu is secure.”

Captain Patel nodded, his sword still drawn. “We owe it to the Sikhs’ discipline.”

Rhea, Jax, and Liam approached, checking the wounded. “Guess it’s gold for keeps,” Jax said, grinning.

The team began to regroup, their faces set with determination. The night would bring new challenges, but for now, they had held their ground.

Thanks once again to my friend Lev, for making and bringing along a wonderful set of buildings.  I would like to say that it was a very close game, but alas, it was a pretty sound thrashing for the Belgians.   However, as we both play to create stories, it doesn’t really matter who wins or loses as long as we have fun and it looks pretty.

The sun beat down on the small settlement, casting long shadows across the dusty road that wound its way through the dense woods. Lieutenant Dupont, commander of the French Scouts, crouched behind a towering oak, his eyes fixed intently on the makeshift fences surrounding the settlement. Beside him, the Native Indian warriors, allies of the French, nodded silently, their faces painted with battle markings.

“This will be a decisive victory,” Dupont whispered, his voice carried away by the gentle breeze. “We will show the British that we will not be deterred. Not a single man will falter.”

Meanwhile, within the settlement, British Commander Captain Thompson rallied his militia. “We have a duty to protect these settlers and gather intelligence on the French,” he said, his voice firm but urgent. “We’ll engage the enemy, learn what we can, and escort our people to safety.”

As the French Scouts and Native Indian warriors prepared to strike, the British militia took up positions behind the fences, muskets at the ready. The fate of the settlement hung in the balance, and the outcome would depend on the bravery and cunning of the combatants. The sound of a snapped twig echoed through the forest, and the battle began.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a bloody orange glow over the ravaged settlement. The French Scouts and Native Indian warriors moved methodically, ensuring that every defender had fallen. Lieutenant Dupont surveyed the carnage, his eyes lingering on the bodies of the British militia, cut down in the fierce battle.

One group of Native Indian allies, fiercely loyal to the British, had fought valiantly, their bodies strewn about the makeshift fortifications. Another group, however, had fled in terror, only to be cut down by the French Scouts as they attempted to escape into the woods.

As the French began to round up the survivors, Dupont’s gaze fell upon a small cottage, its door barricaded with furniture. A faint cry of defiance echoed from within, followed by the crack of a musket. The French Scouts approached cautiously, and with a final crash, the door gave way.

Inside, the civilians, men, women, and children, lay sprawled across the floor, their bodies shielding the hearth and home they had sworn to defend. Dupont’s expression was a mixture of admiration and sorrow as he gazed upon the scene. “Ils ont combattu jusqu’à la fin,” he murmured, “They fought until the end.”

The settlement was silent now, the only sound the distant call of a bird and the soft rustling of leaves in the evening breeze. The French Scouts and their Native Indian allies had secured the road crossing, but at what cost? The memory of the brave defenders would linger, a testament to the ferocity of the battle.

Conclusion

Thanks to Craig Andrews for not only supplying all the terrain and models, but also for walking me through my first game of Muskets and Tomahawks.

I had an absolute blast.

Just before the game started, my friend Lev messaged me to let me know that as long as I don’t have to rescue anyone in this game, it should go well (referring to my failed rescue mission in last week’s Congo game)

I then promptly rolled up an evacuation mission.  I had to safely escort the civilians off the board, whilst at the same time, my leader had to assault the enemy, spending at least 4 turns in proximity to them to gather vital information.  It was at this point that I knew the civilians were doomed.

The French, on the other hand, needed to secure the buildings, which I had to evacuate and not have any of their unit’s rout in the process.

It’s a great little game that I will definitely play again.

Aftermath

King Ukwatutu led his warriors on a perilous mission to rescue his people, including his beloved daughter, Ikwane, from the clutches of the ruthless Zanzibar traders. The king’s heart burned with determination as he guided his men through the dense underbrush, their footsteps silent as they approached the Zanzibaris column.

As they prepared to launch their attack, King Ukwatutu gave the signal, and his warriors sprang into action, surrounding the slavers and catching them off guard. The battle was fierce, with spears clashing and rifle shot’s flying through the air. The king fought valiantly, his assegai spearing through the enemy lines as he searched for Ikwane.

In the chaos of the fight, King Ukwatutu finally spotted his daughter, but his joy was short-lived. A stray spear had pierced her chest, and she fell to the ground, her eyes locked on her father’s face. The king’s world shattered as he rushed to her side, cradling her in his arms.

“Ikwane, my child, no,” King Ukwatutu whispered, tears streaming down his face as he held her close. But it was too late; she was gone.

The king’s grief and rage boiled over as he looked up to see his war chief, Mungapung, arriving with their reinforcements, too late to prevent the carnage. The Zanzibar Trader, Ibn Kamound, however, had escaped into the dense undergrowth, vanishing into the shadows.

King Ukwatutu’s eyes blazed with fury as he turned to Mungapung. “You were late,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. “My daughter, my people, they are all gone. The Zanzibar escapes, and you arrive when the battle is done.”

Mungapung bowed his head in shame, but the king’s words cut deep, and the war chief knew that his loyalty and honour had been questioned. The fate of their friendship and Mungapung’s position hung in the balance.

Thoughts 

Thanks to Lev Vykopal for a fun game.  Although the Zanzibar traders failed to escape the ambush, I also failed to rescue a single captive, accidentally hitting them in combat every single time.

I don’t think that either of us can claim a victory for that.   I don’t fancy Ibn Kamound’s chances in the jungle with so few men to protect him; however, the Doruma tribe was pretty much decimated in the end.

The fate of Mungapung is precarious to say the least.

Carrots in a Stew.

Once again, we returned to the mean streets of Sector 4, home of Perry Pipkin, Grand Master of The Order of the Carrot.

In a city of 400 million, there are more than enough bored citizens just looking for excitement.  The chance to do something with their worthless and pitiful lives.  Just waiting for the chance to be a part of something and feel important.

For those in Sector 4, there is recruitment into The Order of the Carrot.