The Return of the Hobbit-- A Good Friend Fights the Battle of Five Armies

Winter is done, the sun is up, and what could be better than having a friend in for a little gaming?

I can't think of anything!

So my friend Lon over for an evening of food and gaming, and surprised him by setting up Games Workshop's The Battle of Five Armies, one of my absolute favorite miniatures games.

Published back in 2004, this boxed set game is a variant of the company's Warmaster rules system, designed for 10mm scale figures. The set included the eponymous armies in plastic, plus two very nice hill quarters, terrain (the "Ruins of Dale") and a printed cardboard river set. Additional metal figures could be purchased separately. At the time the game value was high-- one of GW's best efforts, hands down. But the game was almost abruptly discontinued. As a result, I was able to score two copies before anyone caught on as to how great this thing was-- today's prices are in the "lost limbs" category.

Oh, you big, beautiful box (plus a few extras Not Appearing In This Battle).

But enough of that, and on with the play.

Lon's familiar with miniatures from his D&D days, but the Warmaster system was entirely new to him. He knows of Warhammer, and immediately realized they shared an ancestry (though the games themselves are very different). But for this game, he was entirely a newbie.

The set up should be familiar-- Smaug the Terrible is dead, and the news has brought plunderers to the Lonely Mountain, eager to claim his treasure, some for generally good purposes (the Elves and Men, seeking to recover from the destruction of Laketown), some to protect ancestral rights (the Dwarves), and some just because it's there for the taking (the goblin). And so, between the arms of the Lonely Mountain, beside the River Running and through the ruins of Dale, the foes encounter each other-- with the Dwarves, Elves, and Men realizing that their legal disputes can't be resolved if they're all dead.

So while the name is "Five Armies", in effect it's just two-- the Good Guys vs. the Bad Guys.

The Bad Guys, with some other Extras Not Appearing In This Battle
(Especially Smaug, who's technically dead. Or mostly dead.)

Lon chose command of the Goblin Horde, which is a good choice for the novice-- they're a straightforward army with not a lot of details to recall, but with some nifty advantages. It consists largely of a whole lot of (weak) infantry ("Goblins"), a single unit of heavier infantry ("Goblin Guard"), and cavalry in the form of Wargs and Warg Riders, the former of which hit harder, the latter of which have armor and 360° shooting ability. Added to this are a boatload of "heroes"/"officers" to issue orders, a single goblin shaman (to cast helpful spells), and the general, Bolg of the North. The goblins begin with all the cavalry on the field, though constricted to the narrow strip east of the River Running. The bulk of their army will arrive piece-meal, based on a die roll at the start of each turn. They will enter on the western side of the river, from the south edge of the battle field, with the ruins of Dale between them and the opposing forces.

I took the ad hoc Alliance of Free Folk, and placed my armies first, restricted to arranging them on the mountain spurs, elves on the western spur, men and dwarves on the east, pretty much by the book. The spurs are a defended position by the rules, making the forces on them harder to hit in combat, but it's a trade-off, as the goblins, following the novel, are able to secretly scale the heights and toss rocks, spears and other nasty stuff on the defenders below, and get to keep doing so until (and if) the eagles arrive.

The Battle Begins... With a Yawn.

The battle is played in 8 turns maximum, of each side going in order, Goblins first. Lon quickly got a good portion of his infantry on the field, and tried to send his cavalry forward, but his officers were inept, and their advance (such as it was) stalled.

I ordered my forces off the spurs, and to some extent the elves responded. I maneuvered to link across the ford with the men and dwarves. However, the latter forces (especially the men) were quite comfortable on their rocky heights, and refused to believe any rumors that the goblins could possibly claim even higher ground. For some, this refusal continued later in the game, even as stuff whacked 'em on their heads.

Quoth the Dark Lord: "Why won't you move?"

Turn the Second: Errybody 'Ere? Charge! Or, er, Mebbe Not.

The Dark Lord Lon started off the second round with a remarkable die roll, introducing his entire remaining force to the battle (and thus getting to drop stuff on those foolish Lakemen's heads).

But with his forces assembled, apparently assembling was all the goblins thought they were required to do. He was able to advance his infantry a bit on his left, but the cavalry pretty much sat there and blinked.

Some fancy maneuverin'!

The Long View

Turn the Third: Hey, I Think That's the Enemy Just Yonder.

Not much happened here for either side. The goblins were able to achieve a moderate advance, though the bulk of the cavalry still held back. The elves realized that a withdrawal across the ford wasn't going to be possible, so opted to extend themselves into a long (thin) line to prevent a flanking maneuver from the oncoming goblin horde, covering the ford as well. And the two forces stared at each other across the countryside, exchange insults and little else.

The Dark Lord; "Well, at least I can drop some rocks."

Hmm... looks like a half-time show...

Slowly... slowly... really slowly...

Turn the Fourth: Let's You and Him Fight.

Finally! Some contact!

Giving up on their recalcitrant allies, the wargs surged forward on their own initiative to strike the line of elven archers who had crossed the ford. Wolf bites can be mighty nasty, and these were. One entire unit of elves was destroyed, and another barely survived with a third of its members, being forced to retreat back to the safety of the dwarves (certainly of much amusement to Durin's folk).

Across the ford, the goblins maneuvered to threaten the elven flanks, if they could, but this time the infantry faltered and failed to press the attack...

Elves down! Elves down! We need backup!

The horror! Oh, the... uh... elvenity!

Turn the Fifth: The Elves Call the Shots

With a goblin forlorn hope over extended on the Elven center (near the ford), and another looking to flank their right, the elves advanced into battle. The goblins in the lead were quickly overwhelmed, though not without elven losses, and the elven line extended on the far right to prevent the flanking. What would happen next?

The Elves find an answer!

Turn the Sixth: Thar's a Bar! Whar? Ova Thar! 

And then the dice fell the Good Guy's way— Beorn entered the fray! Charging in on the goblin left, he tore through the would-be flankers like... like... well, like a ginormous bear through a pack of goblins. Goblin corpses flew left and right,  their blood slaking the thirsty ground, their bodies lying about like... okay, many many stands were removed, and the advancing goblin line was thoroughly whacked, confused and forced back before the bear retired a bit to rest and reconnect with the now advancing elves.

Meanwhile, on the Good Guy's left, the dwarves decided it was time to smack some wolves about, and stormed off the mountain slopes, backed by the men of the Long Lake, and aided by the remaining elves. The fur flew, and the wargs fell— four entire units wiped out by the swirling axes of Dain's people. "Baruk Khazâd! Khazâd Ai-mênu!" "Yipe! Yipe! Yipe! Whimper..."

Bear grills goblin. What a mess!

Turn the Seventh: Thorin! Thorin!

And with that, the Gate of Erebor crashed down, and Thorin, in his gleaming armor, joined the battle. Even the elves were impressed with his kingly bearing, and he took command of a unit of spearmen, eager to follow the bearded one into combat. The Elfking also took command of another unit, and once again the mighty Beorn surged forward as well. The goblins rallied to surround the bear, hoping that slaying the beast would turn the tide... they succeeded in the former, but not the latter.

Elves and Dwarves and Bear, Oh... no we are NOT making that lame joke.

Another view of the big Bear, Elf, Dwarf and Goblin fight.

The Final Chapter: The Death of Bolg

In a bold move, Bolg himself joined the fight, sending his Goblin Guard forward in a risky fight— but they were not enough to withstand the fury of Thorin. Down fell the goblins, and down went Bolg— perishing upon the spears of the elves and the bloody axe of Thorin Oakenshield.

And thus falls the big ugly orc.

Their commander dead, their forces in disarray, the goblins panicked, and fled the field.

The King Under the Mountain had won the day.

The Eagles' View... having arrived too late to do anything but take beauty shots of the aftermath, those fickle-feathered flappers.

Conclusion: A Fun Fight and a Promise

So we had a terrific time. Lon loved his first exposure to the Warmaster system, and we made promises to return to fight again. In the end, it's not the outcome of the game that matters— it's time with friends that makes the difference. My prayer for all of you in this time of separation and anxiety that you can find ways to overcome these, in person if possible, or via the many online opportunities.

So, thanks to Lon for a great fight, and hope for all for many more battles (of the fun kind) in the future!

Sincerely,

Howard, aka Parzival

The War of the Reluctant Caesars

Well, I've been away from this for awhile for a host of reasons, but I'm finally back to catch up with a least a few fun gaming stories. So without further ado, I give you (stirring drumroll)...

The Tale of the Reluctant Caesars

Last weekend saw the gathering of my semi-irregular-hey-are-we-gonna-do-this-or-not gaming group. Which turned out to be the theme of the evening.

Only four of us could get together, so I set out what I thought would be some workable games for a mid-range number of players. The choices included my newly acquired copy of Dungeons & Dragons: The Conquest of Nerath (essentially the Axis & Allies system in a fantasy setting), Risk: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Edition, Risk: Godstorm, and Conquest of the Empire. The first two games on this list are ideally intended for four players, whereas the last is designed for up to six (a detail which I believe was more significant than we anticipated).

The players for the evening consisted of my friend Michael, his teen-age son Chase, and Lon, a friend from work and new addition to the group. As one probably guesses, given the title of this post, Conquest of the Empire (hereafter CotE) won out as the preferred choice.

"It's YUGE!"

If you're not familiar with CotE, it's a reprint by Eagle Games of one of Milton Bradley's classic GameMaster series. The Eagle Games version (now sadly OOP) is quite simply a stunning production. The map features the Roman Empire at its greatest extent (completely surrounding the Mediterranean Sea, and including Britannia). As one would hope, it is gorgeous. It is also HUGE. The board is 3'x3.5'; we had to place some old oversized "dining room table protectors" inherited from my wife's grandmother on top of my 3'x4' kitchen table to give us extra edge space on which to set our pieces. (I brought over a small side table to hold mine.) The pieces are brightly colored plastic figures of Roman legionnaires, Roman generals, Caesars, Auxiliary cavalry, Roman galleys, and catapults (with working swing arms!). There are also cities, city walls ("fortifications"), and Roman roads, plus assorted faction markers and over-sized heavy plastic "Roman" coins in two denominations, one "gold" and one "silver." The custom dice are a bit oversized, and depict the various forces that can participate in a battle (match the image rolled to a unit which is attacking, and that unit kills an opposing piece). The game also includes markers and cards for an entirely different game using the same pieces (and called "CotE II"). Since the rules for these, however, have proven to be about as intelligible to us as a Latin manuscript, we strictly play the "classic" version, which is only slightly modified from the original. The goal of the game is to capture every opposing Caesar; each player has just one. This is done by capturing provinces, collecting tribute, building armies, navies, cities and roads, and engaging in singularly devastating combat.

Except for Lon, the newbie, this was to be our group's fourth time playing CotE (if you count the time a player was eliminated on the very first turn; on that time, we proclaimed a "do-over," and his Caesar was resurrected). So we're somewhat familiar with the game, but hardly experts, and barely qualify as veterans. Lon chose the red army, Chase, blue, Michael, purple, and myself, black.

Gentlemen, Start Your Legions

Each Caesar begins the game in control of a specific starting province, dictated by the rules and the number of players in the game. Unlike Axis&Allies or Risk, each force holds one and only one province at the start of the game; the rest are solely acquired through movement and conquest. Provinces are worth either 10 "talents" (1 gold coin) or 5 "talents" (1 silver coin) during a player's "collect tribute phase." A city on a province (only one per province) adds 5 more talents. After all movement and combat by a player, these talents are collected and used to purchase forces, which are then placed on the starting province only, ending the player's turn.

Movement is simple; depending on the piece, on a turn it moves either 1 or 2 provinces (or sea spaces, for galleys). However, all pieces can only move if a general or Caesar accompanies them. So if you don't have one of these with your forces, they're staying put until one of these leader units joins them. Galleys can move by themselves, but a leader is required to accompany any land forces the galley transports across the sea. So, no leader, no legion— at least, not a mobile one.

Combat is equally simple. When forces enter an enemy's province, and that province has troops, then a battle must occur. (Unoccupied provinces are captured without a fight; Roman citizens appear to have fickle allegiances.) Both the attacker and the defender divide their troops into a "battle line" and a "reserve." Battle line troops can fight and be killed; reserves cannot (though reserve catapults can attack— "Unleash Hell!" Which I think is why we have leash laws). Leaders can increase the number of troops on the battle line, which adds more combat dice. There are a few other niceties, but that serves as an explanation. Once all non-leader forces have been eliminated, or either player opts to retreat, the battle is over (though cavalry gets an extra attack against retreating forces). The survivor conquers the territory. Any unsupported leaders are captured. Generals may be ransomed and returned to their forces (the players agree on any terms, including alliances, permission to use roads/straits, or just plain gold), or executed, their remains ignobly interred in the cardboard game box. A captured Caesar eliminates the player controlling it from the game, with the victor claiming his forces, lands and tribute.

Build Armies! Build Cities! Build Roads! Build Walls! Fight Inflation! (Wait, What?)

The real strategy of the game, however, lies in tribute and purchasing. Different units have different costs, some quite significant compared to the amount of tribute received. Cities, fortifications, and roads may also be built, giving advantages in tribute, combat, and movement (respectively), and roads can only be built between cities (and adjacent cities at that). Roads allow land forces to treat movement along them as 1 movement cost, regardless of the length of the road, allowing the controlling player to move his forces rapidly from one end of the map to the other— that is, if the roads are built. And as in real life and the real Roman Empire, all this is complicated by inflation! Once any player exceeds 100 talents in tribute at the end of his turn, prices of all units and terrain features double for everyone. At 200 talents, prices triple. You may have more gold, but it's worth a lot less! This, too is significant.

On the Night In Question, or Who Wants To Be A Tough Guy Anyway?

Back to the start of our game. With four players, we each had the following starting locations: Chase held Macedonia (midway across the north half of the map, more or less), Michael held Mesopotamia (extreme eastern edge), Lon claimed Hispania (oh, you know where that is), and yours truly was granted the glorious province of Numidia (Ancient Carthage, modern Libya-ish; either way, I got a desert. Woohoo). From there, we each in turn spread our meager armies (5 legionnaires, 4 generals, 1 Caesar) as far as we could, and stopped. Literally, we just stopped. Each of us quickly made agreements to not attack across our extreme edge borders, and just began collecting tribute. There were minor "province swapping" moments with provinces left undefended, and a skirmish here or there, but for the most part nobody was willing to commit forces into all out attacks on anybody else.

For three hours.

I kid you not.

Oh, yes, some galleys got sunk. I even sent out two galleys to successfully sink a naval invasion force sent out by Chase ("It was against him!" he protested to me, pointing at Lon. "Well, you didn't tell my navy that," I replied. Hey, nobody sails through my sea without the proper paperwork and environmental impact forms, or at least a few talents slipping under the table. Preferably the latter.)
We did make a lot of jokes, including a few obligatory Python retreads and references to Dr. Who and Black Adder ("That's your cunning plan?"), but as for actually conquering the Roman Empire? Not these Caesars. "Yeah, that last guy? He got poisoned. The guy before that? Stabbed by his own bodyguard. Caesar, shmeaser, I think I'll take a pass and build a nice villa overlooking the beach."

The game wound up being called on account of "dang it's late and three of us have work tomorrow." We ruled that Chase would have wound up being the target of everyone for triggering the first round of inflation (these Caesars were not only reluctant, they were cheap), but it really wasn't possible to declare a victor.

How to Make War

In retrospect, it may be that CotE really isn't suited for a small group of players. As spread out as we were, and with the limited starting forces, it took two full times around the board for anyone to actually encounter anyone else, and at that point the incentive to fight each other was limited, due both to weak forces strung out over too many provinces and to fears of triggering inflation if another province got picked up. If we'd had a fifth Caesar, however, I think we'd have wound up with forces quickly pressing against each other, with tributes remaining low enough to encourage battles over provinces without the fear of the inflation jump.

Despite that, I think we all did enjoy building up our forces based on our personal strategies. Lon favored land units and connecting roads. I went for the largest navy (having little land mass in which to spread without potentially devastating combat). Michael and Chase attempted a mix. So a good time was had, even if the lands of Ancient Rome were a lot less bloody than we had expected.

Stay tuned for our next adventure in gaming...whenever that actually happens!

Howard Shirley, aka Parzival

PS: No pics, 'cause I didn't have my camera ready. Maybe I'll add some shots of CotE later.