Re-thinking my warband - Clash of Spear campaign interlude - end of turn 1

Malchus leads his men through drills.

With the first campaign turn ended, and my record at a frustrating 0-4, it is time to regroup, reorganize, and re-think the situation. But rather than just tell you what changes I have made, I think I'll let Malchus do it...

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Malchus stalked through the camp. He had been in a foul mood of late, but this morning he was more out of sorts than usual. He had slept poorly, plagued by evil dreams of which he had no memory upon waking apart from a general feeling of doom.

His sandals rubbed uncomfortably on a bruise he had suffered in the last skirmish. A rock had hit him in the ankle, not hard enough to wound, but enough to raise a welt. Of course, the sandal strap lay right alongside it and the friction kept it from healing. The irritation added to his dark temper.

And if that weren't enough, he was hungry. Food was getting scarce and this morning’s scant offering of stale bread and overripe fruit did nothing to help his mood.

To the left of the camp, in an open field, he could see the newly recruited Numidian horsemen. They rode for pure joy and seemed more comfortable on their steeds than upon their own legs. He could hear their leader, Juba, shouting encouragement and exhortation as his riders wheeled and charged, putting themselves and their mounts through their paces.

He had heard of their prowess and been overjoyed when Juba had ridden up to the camp the week before and offered his troops' service. They would be a welcome addition to his company, giving him a more mobile element with which to react to the enemy's moves. 

Of course, especially of late, resources were more limited than usual so some sacrifices needed to be made to accommodate the newcomers. That sacrifice had been the citizen spearmen - literally.

Malchus squatted in the shade of the crosses upon which the bodies of the unfortunate citizens still hung and watched as one of his lieutenants, Syphon, led the Libyan spearmen through their drills. The spearmen were the heart of his band, though their performance in battle lately had been inconsistent. Syphon was doing well, learning to lead. Soon he would be ready to join him in the field.

Malchus thought that seeing the citizen's fate would motivate the troops, though he knew that his second-in-command, Bostar, disagreed. While Malchus commanded with absolute authority, he respected the younger man and listened when he spoke, even if he then disregarded the advice.

As if the thought of Bostar had summoned the officer, Malchus heard him walk up behind him.

“Sir,” Bostar began, “there is someone here for you to meet.”

Malchus turned his head without rising. Beside the tall, proud Bostar stood a withered little man. He was dressed in an ill-fitting, filthy robe and smelled worse than he looked. His face was so ugly as to be nearly deformed, and as he opened his mouth to speak Malchus saw the rotted teeth within.

“Silence!” bellowed Malchus, now rising to his feet. He turned to his second. “Bostar, what is the meaning of this? We barely have enough supplies left to feed ourselves and you bring me this...," Malchus paused to examine the wretched man, "... this beggar?”

Bostar, sensing his commander’s mood and knowing the danger of further angering him, stared straight ahead as he answered.

“No, my lord Malchus,” he said formally. “At your command, I’ve traveled to the nearby cities and towns in search of a priest. I inquired at the shrine of Baal in Segesta. None of the fat priests there were willing to leave their positions to join us on campaign, which I count as no great misfortune. But, as I was leaving, a local merchant approached and asked me to visit his home. When I asked why, he would only say, 'It has been foretold.' Curious, I went with him and he introduced me to Menestar, whom you see before you.”

Malchus grunted noncommittally, “Continue.”

"It seems that Menestar had been expelled from the temple recently for certain of his divinations that cast a poor light on the activities of the high priest and his cronies. Since that time he had been wandering the city, offering fortunes for food.

“The merchant had taken pity on him and had been feeding him and allowing him to sleep in the lot behind his home.”

Malchus lowered his tone menacingly, "And you thought it would be a good idea to bring me this disgraced priest?”

“No sir, not initially. But as I turned to depart the merchant's home, Menestar spoke.

'Dark have been your days of late, defeat by Greeks has been your fate.

By sons of the she-wolf you've been bested, the pride of Carthage sorely tested.

The plans of gods have yet to bear fruit, for you and the riders that you recruit.

All is not lost despite the pain, victory is possible and with it much gain.'”

Malchus’s anger had faded, now he was intrigued. “He said that? Surely he or the merchant overheard you speaking to the priests about our situation.”

“At first I thought that as well, my lord, but I did not mention the Numidians at the temple, and surely those are the ‘riders’ to which he refers? I believe him to be genuine. Despite his appearance, he has an air about him.”

“Well, he certainly does have an ‘air’ but that can be remedied with a dunk in the stream,” Malchus chuckled.

The fact that Bostar had been impressed by this unlikely character interested Malchus. He knew that his second-in-command didn’t place much stock in omens and such. That Bostar would vouch for this seer was enough for Malchus not to have him summarily executed.

He turned to face the priest. “Well, do you speak?”

“Not well, my lord Malchus, except when the gods choose to speak through me.” The priest’s voice was deeper and more resonant than Malchus had expected from his appearance.

“You say you speak for the gods?” Malchus’s tone turned serious.

“My lord, at times the words I say and the things I see do not come from within myself. I believe they do come from the gods.”

"That is a bold claim, little man," Malchus replied, coming to a decision, "And it is one we shall put to the test."

Malchus turned to Bostar, “Very well. Get him cleaned up and situated. Then gather Syphon and meet me in my tent. We have much to discuss.”

He turned once more to the seer. “As for you, we shall see if it is as you say. I have no patience for tricksters or frauds.” He inclined his head to indicate the crosses. “And as you see, failure comes with a high price.”

As Bostar led Menestar away, Malchus began to walk toward the mounted Africans. Their first mission would be to scout westwards and find either food or foe. To Malchus, either would do just as well.

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For turn 2 of the campaign, we can build warbands of 800 points, an increase from turn 1's 600 points.

Because of my lackluster efforts in turn 1, neither of my leaders was able to level up, so I am still at five command points (CP) for my army, unless I add a third leader.

Adding a fifth unit with the extra 200 points without increasing my available CP doesn't make much sense to me. If I stay at five CP, then having five units will leave no margin for attempting reactions or even activating my leaders themselves. Adding a third leader (another level 2) then is a must.

But what to do with the points I have left? 

I'm definitely replacing one unit (dropping the underperforming Punic citizens in favor of Numidian cavalry).

With what's left I think I'm going to add a second unit of javelin men and a soothsayer, putting me at 798 points. If my soothsayer model comes in before the start of the turn I can save 5 points, but I don't think it'll get here in time.

Syphon leads a unit of spearmen.

I believe the Numidians and additional javelin men will give me the maneuverability and ranged attacks that were missing with the Punic citizens. 

I will, of course, report back with the results of the first battle. Hopefully, I will get to write about a victorious Malchus. If not, well, he's running out of crosses and men...

'Til next time!

(Edit: I don't place my trust in the "gods," regardless of what Malchus believes, but rather in cold steel. So I'm dropping the soothsayer in exchange for an extra spearman. With the tweaks, my list comes in right at 800 points.)

Building a provincial Roman villa for Clash of Spears

I really enjoy making terrain, as should be evident from this blog. Since starting the Clash of Spears campaign I've assembled and painted figures, fought battles, and written stories and reports. But I've not yet made any terrain.

That's about to change.

I've decided that a provincial Roman villa is a great place to start. Sarissa makes one, and I've based my initial sketches on their design.

It's a pretty basic construction of a two-story U-shaped structure with a pair of covered porches at the entrances.

I also found some other images on the Internet showing different variations, though all seem to share certain common characteristics, such as the sloped roof and covered entryways.

Based on that research, I went back to my sketchpad to see if I could design something that wasn't an exact duplicate of the Sarissa model.

After some more doodling, I decided on making a couple of variations. One would consist of separate buildings that could be arranged in various configurations, so it could be different every time.

 

The other would be a little smaller than the Sarissa design, and keep some features from it as well as incorporate some from the other reference images I found. It will have a fixed footprint.

And, by using all the structures I plan to build on the same table, I can represent the central villa and various outbuildings of a more prosperous estate.

The next decision is whether or not to make the interiors playable, this is, to make the roofs fixed or removable. In basic Clash of Spears, buildings are impassable terrain so there's no need to worry about being able to place figures inside the structure.

Though I've generally leaned towards removable roofs in the past for versatility, in this instance I think I'll make the buildings one piece. This will be much easier, will make the structures stronger, and make them look better. In any case, the roofs are the last parts to finish so I've got plenty of time to change my mind.

'Til next time!

'We need a victory!' (A Clash of Spears campaign battle report)

Roman "ghosts" hold the hill against Carrthage's finest.

Malchus stalked his way back to his tent, Bostar at his side. “Dammit, man,” he growled, “The men looked like crap at drill today.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Bostar agreed. There wasn’t much else he could say. The soldiers had lost their will to fight. Their exercise was listless. Lack of food, plunder, and success was taking its toll.

“Time to motivate them,“ Malchus went on. “Erect six crosses in the center of camp. Don’t say anything about them, just let the men see them, and wonder.”

“As you command,” Bostar replied. Inwardly he groaned. The sight of those dreaded implements of torture would not improve the morale situation.

Malchus raised his voice. “And get me another damned seer! After the fiasco with the last one, the men have gotten spooked. We need good omens.”

And better results, Bostar thought, but he was careful to keep that thought to himself as well. Winning was the only thing that would truly raise the men's spirits.

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Brett and I met to play another campaign game for Clash of Spears. This would be my fourth game of the turn, and I desperately sought a victory for Rasap and his acolyte Malchus. We rolled up the "This is my land!" scenario, which is basically just a contest over two central objectives.

We decided on easy deployment, set up our troops, and the battle commenced!

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After the initial, tentative advances, this was the situation at the beginning of turn 2. 

Across the field, Malchus could barely make out the shapes of enemy soldiers. They looked ghostly in the distant haze, and he wondered what his men would be facing. Hopefully not more of those damned Greeks! 

As the ranks closed, he could make out their uniforms and crests. Romans! Rasap was truly smiling on him today.

Malchus directs the javelin men and spearmen on the left flank.

On the right, the Punic citizens and more spearmen hold formation. Little do the citizens know this will be their last battle...

"Onward!" Malchus bellowed at his spearmen as he pushed them forward to the objective. So far, the battle plan was holding. On the left a strong advance by his javelin men and spearmen held the objective. And on the right, the combined formations of more spearmen and the useless citizens made a strong push toward the second objective.

Yes, Malchus thought to himself, that was it! The citizens had a chance to redeem themselves in his eyes, and so far they were making the most of it.

Libyans hold the left objective.

Libyans hold the right objective.

Malchus and Bostar survey the field.

Malchus squinted as he tried to ascertain the positions of all his units. The bright sun glinted fiercely off helmets and spearpoints, and he could feel Rasap's favor upon him. He could taste victory!

The pinpoints of light faded as a cloud scudded across the sky, obstructing the sun. Malchus hoped that wasn't a bad omen...

Javelinmen score four hits on the formed-up hastati, but only two die.

On the right, the Punic citizens charge headlong into the velites, who fail their reaction check and take the brunt of the charge.

On his right, Malchus could make out the Punic citizens as they stormed up a small rise to engage the Roman velites. They would succeed in making a name for themselves or die trying. Despite their best efforts, only one enemy combatant fell, though the foe was driven back.

Malchus's pride turned to fury as the citizens were in turn charged by the Roman elite hastati.

The hastati make short work of the Punic citizens. They would not achieve glory in their final combat.

In their turn, the Libyan spearmen charged headlong into the hastati, raining blow after blow upon them. Alas, it was to little effect as the Romans were able to parry or deflect almost all of them.

The spearmen score multiple hits on the Romans, but to very little effect.

Malchus had no more time to spare for the fight on the right hill. All his attention was now taken up by the fierce battle in front of him. His javalineers threw volley after volley into the enemy spearmen, who seemed impervious to the missiles.

Malchus orders his men to launch another wave of javelins at the enemy.

Meanwhile, his vaunted spearmen broke formation as the enemy rained spears down upon them. That made them vulnerable...

The Libyans suffer hits and lose their close order.

Back on the right, Bostar, who had been left behind by the wild advance of the Carthaginian troops, watched helplessly as the spearmen, now unsupported, launched a last-ditch charge into the hastati. By Baal, they were magnificent! The wretched Romans didn't have a chance in Hades of standing up to their fury. 

But, as the dust settled Hanno could see the foe regroup, and take the fight to the spearmen. Bostar wept bitter tears as he saw the heroic warriors fall one by one until the unit was gone.

The spearmen "all-out attack," scoring four hits on the Romans and wiping out the unit.

But they, in turn, suffer attacks from the Roman commander and the velites, breaking their formation and destroying them.

On the left flank, Malchus looked on in disbelief as his spearmen were routed there as well. The hastati were fearsome and seemingly unstoppable. They were swarmed by the javelin men and themselves wiped out.

But, as his fortune faded with the dying light, Malchus's last remaining unit was in turn attacked and defeated by the enemy.

Malchus fell back, collecting Bostar and returning to camp with the weary and battered survivors of this encounter.

The javelineers wipe out the fatigued hastati, before being eliminated themselves.

That night at the camp, Malchus lay in his bed, staring at the tent's ceiling. Try as he might, he could not shake the feeling that Rasap had abandoned him. What other explanation was there? Certainly, his men had fought hard enough to win, with one notable exception. He and his commanders had led them ably and made the right choices.

Malchus was tired, and needed rest. In the morning, refreshed and renewed, he would face the issues head-on and start to fix the problems. He had already made contact with the leader of a Numidian cavalry troop, and perhaps he could persuade them to join his force, if he played down their lack of success. 

But to make room in the camp and be able to feed and pay the Numidians, something, or more properly, someone, several someones in fact, had to go. Malchus had made that decision earlier in the day. As the dying moans from the crucified citizens filled the camp, Malchus rolled over, and slept.

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After four games in the first campaign turn, and four losses, it really is time to self-evaluate. It is clear that there is something about the “game” of Clash that I am missing. Whether it is troop selection, tactics or something else, I don’t know. 

For Clash, I have purposefully chosen forces that I enjoy reading about and modeling. Maybe not selecting my faction based on troop availability and traits, but rather on what I thought would be fun, was a mistake. But the truth is I am a modeler/painter/amateur historian first and a gamer second, and always have been. That’s not going to change.

Maybe it is the mechanics behind the tactical decisions that I need to concentrate one. Again, I usually order my troops to do what “feels’ right or seems reasonable for soldiers in their position to do. Perhaps I should pay more attention to the math behind the tactical options. But, again, I play to the rule of cool. As Gimli says in the movie version of LotR, “Certainty of death. Small chance of success. What are we waiting for?” Go big, or go home, usually in a box.

I am not a “super gamer,” but I usually do a bit better than average at games. So, something needs to change in order for me to succeed. But at the same time, I do absolutely realize that I need to have fun while playing the game, win or lose. Winning games that I don’t enjoy for whatever reason is not a solution.

For turn two, I’ll start by adjusting my troop selection. The Carthage warband that I selected suffers from a distinct lack of missile weapons. That will be remedied with the addition of Numidian cavalry and the expulsion of Punic citizen infantry. What other changes I make will depend on the final tally of assets and resources available to me in the campaign.

The first game of turn two is, to me, a must-win. The campaign is structured so that the advantages gained by winning to the first battle of the turn are very difficult to replicate by winning succeeding battles. And, the more battles you fight, while there are diminished chances for gain, also potentially incur further losses. So, getting off on the right foot in a turn is crucial to success.

Will Malchus succeed in his quest for glory? Will Bostar one day see his boss Malchus himself on a cross? Only time will tell. On to turn two!

‘Til next time!

"Pork. It's what for dinner", hopefully! (A Foraging Scenario Battle Report)

Libyan spearmen at the ready.

Today I fought another engagement in our ongoing Sicily campaign for Clash of Spears. Again, my opponents were the darned Greeks, this time Bryan's force of Pyrrhic warriors.

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Malchus stared into the rising sun and surveyed the idyllic scene before him, the small building and livestock arrayed peacefully about the valley. The scouts he had sent out yesterday had returned with news of the farm, and his men's hunger had spurred him into investigating with his full force.

When he'd learned of the pig herds gathered here, he had immediately ordered a night march. He hadn't even spared the time to consult the gods. That would have been tough anyway, since he'd had the last priest put to death, perhaps a tad prematurely. 

No matter, there weren't many problems a full belly couldn't fix, and from the look of the fattened pigs before him, that should no longer be an issue.

As he began to advance on the farm, his eyes caught a faint glint in the distance. It could easily be the dawn's light reflecting off enemy arms and armor, or just as easily be nothing at all. Warily, he arranged his line and his men moved forward cautiously, alert to the possibility of an enemy presence...

Initial positions after the deployment phase. Carthaginians are on the left.

By the gods! It was an enemy after all. And not just any enemy. He recognized the shield design of the same Greek bastard that had fought off Malchus's men in Messana. Today he meant to kill him once and for all -  it would be a shame, as beautiful as he was, but a blood feud cared little for appearances.

The Punic citizens were able to advance almost to the pig herd on the left flank. Unfortunately that was as close as they would get...

From behind the Greek lines you can appreciate the perfectly formed ranks of spearmen and the flanking skirmishers.

Malchus was pleased with his deployment thus far.

He'd put his useless Punic citizens (Baal Haamon alone knew what he was thinking when he offered them a place in his company. So far they had been worse than useless. And there were more of them on the way from Carthage to join him.) along out on the left flank with simple orders. Get. The Pigs. Truly, he thought, that should be simple enough for even them to accomplish.

On his right, his experienced Libyan spearmen were a formidable obstacle, standing in firm ranks.

But, in the center of the enemy line he spotted the hoplites. Those were the only opposing troops he had concerns about. Their weapons and armor were a match for his best spearmen. He noticed his javelin men milling about, and had an idea.

"Bostar!" Malchus called. "Have the tribesmen draw out the hoplites. If they fail to entice a charge, I'll have their skins!"

Greek hoplites advance on Libyan javelin men.

The Carthaginian line maintains its rigid formation.

Greek Pezhetairoi advance on the pigs, menacing the Punic citizens. 

The Greek slingers began to rain stones down upon the central spearmen unit. The rocks flew past them, buzzing like insects. Damn them, but it was like death from a thousand stings. Some of the spearmen fell, and their ranks became disordered.

Supported by accurate missile fire from the slingers, the pezhetairoi advance on the far right.

At the end of the first turn, either play could be cooking BBQ at the end.

There! That was the break he was waiting for. Prodded by the throws javelins which had felled one of their number, the Greek hoplites charged the tribesmen. "Quickly now, Bostar, order them to withdraw!" But either Bostar was too slow, or the javelineers' blood was up. They stood their ground and faced the onrushing Greek spears.

The javelin men successfully taunt the hoplites into a charge...

... but are unable to scamper away and take the full brunt of the enemy attack!

Malchus could not believe what he was seeing! Despite being at the mercy of the foe, the javelin men had adopted a defensive posture and were able to parry every incoming blow. They would get an extra portion of pork tonight!

Despite successfully defending against all the attacks, the tribesmen are forced to fall back.

Meanwhile, on the left, the citizens were proving themselves to be unable to complete even one simple task. After launching a barrage of javelins, the pezhetairoi charged into the laggards, wiping them out with scant loss to themselves.

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I must not know how to use these guys properly. Their poor armor and need to get in close to score hits makes them vulnerable to missile attacks at range before they are able to get to melee distance. In three battles, this was the first time they'd killed any enemy, and they were still eliminated themselves.

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Trying to look at the positive, Malchus realized that at least that combat was on the far side of the battle, and none of his other troops seemed to have noticed. Plus, he thought, there would be more meat to share among the surviving soldiers.

Pezhetairoi charge...

Pezhetaroi kill.

Situation after turn 2.

The hoplites realize they may have overextended themselves in their eagerness.

On the right, the situation, though fluid, still seemed to favor Malchus. Though one of his spearmen units was down to half strength, the other was doing well. They had driven the herd of pigs into the pezhetairoi, disrupting them and making them vulnerable. They had died well, taking three of the spearmen, but they had died nonetheless.

He could make out the pezhetairoi on the other side making off with some of the pigs. Swine! In order to feed his men tonight, he would have to act decisively. "Men of Carthage! Do you want to live forever? Attack!"

After seeing off the pezhetairoi, the spearmen set their sights on the slingers.

Spearmen vs slingers. What could possibly go wrong?

Attack after attack came up empty against the stubborn rock throwers!

What by the god's fickle blessings had happened? Despite having an unopposed charge into the slingers, the spearmen had come up empty! Malchus sighed, once again, any chance of salvaging victory would fall on his own shoulders. So be it!

Setting his sights on the unit of hoplites before him, he knew that he would have to break them in order to win the battle. Though they outnumbered him seven to one, they were fatigued, while he was still fresh. 

With a deafening roar of defiance, he allowed the bloodlust to fall upon him and he charged!

Malchus charges the hoplites with an all-out attack...

And rolls double sixes - scoring FOUR hits!

The hoplites, weary as they were, could not match Malchus' fury. Several fell, and the rest fled before him, aware that they were facing not a man, but the incarnation of war!

Malchus stands alone after decimating the hoplites. 

But alas, as it was in Messana, Malchus's singular effort was to no avail. The losses his company had suffered were too much to overcome. Fatigued and despondent, Malchus ordered his remaining troops to withdraw.

There was no meat simmering on the cooking fires this night, just more tubers. Malchus sat with his men. They were beginning to lose faith in him. Yes, his fighting prowess had yet to be matched, but none of the combats had gone their way. And the issue with the slain augur weighed on them as well. He could hear their muttering, though they tried to hide it when he was nearby. They were beginning to believe the gods had abandoned him, and them.

He would have to remedy that, he thought. First he needed to find a new priest. And then, he had to find that gorgeous Greek again, and kill him. Nothing less would do.

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As the first campaign turn nears it's end, it is time to evaluate Malchus's warband. With three battles and three losses, Malchus is not getting off on the right foot. The losses mean he is at a huge disadvantage in terms of renown, but more importantly in terms of assets, which will determine what type of force he is able to field for turn two.

In the upcoming turn, he can add 200 more points of troops, and I am leaning towards Numidian cavalry. And I am discarding the Punic spearmen. Perhaps in larger engagements they may serve a purpose, or perhaps in time I will learn to command them effectively. But for now, they are a waste of points and they need to go.

'Til next time!