MORTAL GODS... FINE WINES AND SPARE RIBS...

This year, 2024, continues to see old abandoned warming projects resurrected and games set up and played on the dining room table. One such neglected rule set is Mortal Gods, which I acquired during Covid and was pretty excited about until Clash of Spears erupted onto the scene and confined this, and other, rules sets to the book shelf. Four years on and I've been painting Wargames Atlantic's skeletons and this is their first outing, pitted against a living, breathing, Greek force, temporarily redeployed from my Clash of Spears Syracusans.

This is a small action of just 230ish points a side and takes place on the remote Aegean island of Hemoroides where the local Lochagos, Testakles is attempting to prevent the, also local, necromancer, Heinos from taking control of the award winning vineyard at Megaboozo, and using it to produce a full bodied and robust Agiorgitiko, to lubricate and enliven their cadaverous ceremonial jamborees.

CLICK TO EMBIGGEN

Testikles is ably assisted in his endeavours by the ever-so-slightly self absorbed Promachos, Domestos, while Heinos is seconded by the considerably dead Nekudaimon, Verdigris.

HEINOS AND VERDIGRIS

As this is my first game of Mortal Gods, the objective is straightforward... whichever side has the most people/skeletons in the vineyard at the end of the game is the winner!

The battlefield seemed quite cluttered when I laid it out, but it proved to be a bit too exposed for those who were in the sights of the archers, especially the skeletons who have no armour roll to get them out of trouble.

I placed both skeleton archer units on the flank to overpower the Greek archers, which didn't work out as planned! I also got one of the cards temporarily the wrong way up! In practice, the skeleton archers proved to be of little value because they invariably used their activation to use their defence value when they were targeted by their Greek counterparts.

Testakles, Domestos and the Greek peltasts quickly made for the cover of the ruins in the centre of the battlefield.

Domestos was unlucky enough to draw a Fate card which forced him to always move towards the enemy which quickly brought him into combat against the hapless skeletons. Some awful dice rolling saw the Hero surprisingly pushed back.

A group of Greek peripoloi hurled themselves into the skeletons and drove them back and causing two casualties.

Domestos found himself assailed by Verdigris which saw the beginning of a slogging match in the shadow of the ruins, involving the two Greek heroes and wave upon wave of increasingly desperate skeletons!

Verdigris was now having to face both Greek heroes and, although groups of skeletons continually arrived in support, they were quickly thrown back, leaving Verdigris to continue his lone vigil.

As Verdigris fought on against the odds, Heinos repeatedly called more and more skeletons from the depths of Hades and sent them forward to battle the Greek heroes.

After a valiant stand against all the odds, Verdigris was finally dispatched by Domestos who was able to follow up his victory and hurl himself into battle with Heinos the Nekromantis who stood defenceless against the onslaught.

With the "retirement" of the Nekromantis the game came to an end, with a comprehensive victory to Testekles and his Hemoroidian Lochos, meaning that the worshipers of Hades were going to need a visit to Tescotes for their ceremonial wine supplies (at least the Clubcard would receive a hefty boost of bonus points). The game played out very differently to the way I expected it to, with the skeletons unable to do sufficient damage to the Greeks before they were swept off the table. Heinos the Nekromantis then spent each activation bringing back the slaughtered skeletons so that they could go off and be slaughtered again! With Heinos as their leader, the skeletons don't have anyone who can stand up to the Greek heroes in combat; Verdigris, the Nekudaimon, gave a good account of himself but, ultimately, with only medium armour to protect himself, he was overwhelmed by the combined attentions of Testekles and Domestos, as would anyone be!

At various points in the game I interpreted the rules for defence incorrectly, allowing groups to use both a defence roll and an armour save, when I think you are supposed to choose which you employ, rolling a courage test if you have an activation available but would rather rely on an armour save instead. With the skeletons, giving up their activation for a defence roll means that they end up just standing there waiting to be cut down by the next Greek who comes along to attack them, but, if you are lucky enough to pass the courage test with the single die they roll, their lack of armour means they'll be lucky to have anybody(!) left standing to fight anyway!

So, it's back to the drawing board with the Horde of Hades and some time spent looking more carefully at the nuts and bolts of their characteristics. I didn't use my Hydra (Henry) for this game and I haven't finished my Zealots yet, but I'm not sure that they would have made a huge difference to the outcome of this game. The secrets to success are obviously there somewhere for the forces of Hades and, now I'm not spending all my time painting and basing, I need to delve further into the rules to unlock those secrets and give Testakles and his Hemoroidians more of a run for their drachma...

DUX BRITANNIARUM... ONE SCOTTI AND HIS DOGS. (BEING THE SECOND PART!)

In this, the second chapter in Brother Beddwhettur's account of the epic clash of arms, between the nobles of Alt Clut and the raiders of the Scotti lord, Donnchadh Lothmhor, we are transported upon the crest of a dramatic wave of events to the final climactic moments of this bloody and fearful encounter...

Thus the Summer of Scotti raiding came to a close, with their defeat to the Lord Cadwallon. The Knotty Dunfleece were returned to their owners and Donnchadh would spend the Winter brooding and planning further raids for the following Spring. Cadwallon's warband suffered 12 casualties in total, 6 Elite and 6 Levy, while the Scotti lost 7 Warriors, 2 Skirmishers, 2 Light Cavalry and all of their Noble Raider Cavalry. Shauhan the Shepherd would live to shepherd another day and Cadwallon would have to face the fury of King Iorwryth for leading the Levy into battle without his consent. Next year, however, the nobles of Alt Clut would be prepared to face the Scotti raiders with or without the authority of the King!

If you've arrived here and not read Part 1 yet... CLICK HERE

DUX BRITANNIARUM... ONE SCOTTI AND HIS DOGS. (BEING THE FIRST PART!)

Octobris 513 AD... Donnchadh, War Lord of Dal Riatta and his merciless warband of raiders are returning home after another devastating foray into the Brythonic lands of Alt Clut...

The following is an extract from the Hen Ogledd Chronicles, The Life and Times of King Iorwryth the Furtive, written and beautifully illustrated, with engravings of almost photographic quality, by the 6th century monk, Brother Beddwhettur, a close and confidential adviser to the kings of Alt Clut...

And so the crucial moments of this savage encounter are about to be unleashed... will Donnchadh and his wild Scotti warriors prevail, or will the stout and doughty men of Alt Clut hold fast and prevent the enemy from escaping with their flock of stolen Knotty Dunfleece?

See Part 2 for the answers to this question and much much more... CLICK HERE

DUX BRITANNIARUM... THE HENN OGLEDD CHRONICLES...

INTRODVCTION

It's been a couple of years since I last looked at Dux Britanniarum, having made the decision to use Clash of Spears to tell my stories of life in early 6th century Dun Rheged instead. However, I recently discovered a series of videos on YouTube, by the Crusty Colonel, portraying battles between Saxons and Scoti, using Dux Britanniarum and, having seen what an excellent set of combat rules they actually are, I've decided to retrace my steps and give these Too Fat Lardies! rules another look...

BACKGROUND AND DRAMATIS PERSONAE...

Throughout the summer of the year 513AD, Donnchadh Luthmhor of the Scotti tribe has been incessantly leading raids into Alt Clut, from across the border in Dal Riata. Now, in the month of Octobris, his warband are joyfully heading back towards the safety of their homeland with a looted flock of Knotty Dunfleece, a sheep well known for its tasty hogget and luxuriously thick and oily wool.

With Iorwryth, King of Alt Clut, close to death, the Brythonic nobles have remained transfixed, reluctant to commit the King's forces to battle without his personal leadership, as the Scotti rampage and pillage at will across the land, leaving the poor downtrodden peasantry to suffer untold terror and hardship at the hands of a cruel and invidious enemy.

Leaders and Nobles of Dal Riata...

Donnchadh Luthmhor is a warlord of Dal Riata, he is 33 years old, with a mediocre physique, which some, if they have had enough of life, may describe as short and wiry. He is known throughout Henn Ogledd as Donnchadh the Victorious, a soubriquet gained from the numerous battlefield triumphs he has gained over his many years of command. Donnchadh is famous for his thrifty character, which constantly drives him into ever more daring raids to add to his personal wealth. Donnchadh has come a long way since he was born, the son of a Tech, on the tiny island of Innis Mhearnaig, with nothing more than a roof over his head and a small hand cart, used by his father to harvest cow dung, which he dried and sold to their fellow islanders for fuel, making enough profit to purchase their first and only boat. One Spring evening, many years ago, Donnchadh stole the boat and made his way to Dun Add, where he eventually became a warrior in the army of the Great King.

Driven by childhood memories of abject poverty, Donnchadh rose through the ranks of the Great King's army, eventually becoming the warlord that he is today. Always by his side, is Donlad, his personal bodyguard and Champion. Like his master, Donlad has risen from lowly origins and his exploits have made him a legend amongst the people of Dal Riatta. Through the long and bitter nights of the northern winter, the small and common folk huddle around their meagre fires and warm their hearts by singing lusty ballads of their mighty hero:

"Let the wind blow high, let the wind blow low,

With dangling bits off to war he goes,

All the lassies say, 'Hello!,

Donlad, where's yer troosers?'"

The most trusted noble in Donnchadh's warband is Amhlaigh, three years older than his Warlord, he is tall and strong, built for war, trustworthy and dependable. Amhlaigh is the very antithesis of Donnchadh, purple born into the noble house of Dun Add, he has always lived a life of luxury and comfort, wanting for nothing, but, desiring little. Despite his lavish and palatial upbringing, he is renowned for his devotion to God, putting Church and faith before all else. He was brought up and educated by the celebrated monk, Brother Grievous, who devoted his entire life to living simply, drinking only water which had been passed by several others and eating nothing but gravel collected from the farmyards of nearby villages. This austere example has greatly influenced Amhlaigh and equipped him well for the arduous life of a raider.

The final noble in Donnchadh's warband is Cailean, tasked with the command of the javelin armed skirmishes, a job he undertakes with a degree of reluctance, preferring to fight alongside the more mettlesome Raiders. He is 24 years old and a man of average build, well suited to the rigours of life leading the skirmishers. As a younger man, he has not, as yet, created a reputation for himself and doubts that he will do so unless he can gain a command with the Raiders. Like Donnchadh, Cailean is a man who desires wealth and his avaricious nature suits the lifestyle he has chosen as a member of a Scotti raiding warband. As a son of a Cenela, Cailean has royal blood flowing through his veins, but, being from a minor kindred branch, he has a long way to go before he can reach the level of command to which he aspires. He is, however, a man of great loyalty and can always be trusted to carry out whatever task he is set by his warlord.

Leaders and Nobles of Alt Clut...

Cadwallon ap Meirion is one of those nobles of Alt Clut who has watched his country ravaged by the Scotti throughout the long hot summer of 613AD. Unable to act without the presence of King Iorwryth, he has lost much to the raiders, but has now decided to act, regardless of the consequences, gathering his fellow nobles around him and calling out the levy to hunt down the raiding Scotti. Cadwallon is 26 years old, a man of medium build and is known as "The Magnificent", owing to his many acts of beneficent donations to the Church. As with all men of power and significance, Cadwallon is not all that he appears to be; our hero is cursed by the sin of lustful covetousness and the wives of many men, regardless of rank or status, have been the target of his lecherous attentions. Cadwallon comes from an ancient family of Honestiore.

Cadwallon's Champion is Serwan ap Ris, a veteran of many wars against Irish raiders, Scotti and the pagan Picts. He is 34 years of age, but has retained his warrior like qualities in spite of numerous battle injuries suffered over the years. His loyalty to Cadwallon is unswerving and some of those injuries were inflicted when Serwan placed himself between his Lord and an assailant.

Cadwallon's chief noble is Cynrig ap Enniaurn, 28 summers old, tall and strong and blessed with a purple born heritage, stretching back far into the mists of time, long before the Romans set foot in Britannia. This noble lord possess the most refined manners, being cultured and highly educated, yet he is capable of fraternizing comfortably with the lowliest of warriors, sharing their privations and hardships during the most trying of campaigns. Cynrig is famed throughout the land as a prodigious athlete, capable of the most extraordinary feats of strength and agility. With such a noble patrimony, Cynrig does have claims to the highest rank in the land and there are many who surround the king who neither like nor trust his motives and would not be saddened to see him fall in battle.

 The final noble who has responded to Cadwallon's call to arms is Brochmail ap Dewydd. At 25 years of age he lacks experience of leadership on the field of battle and so Cadwallon has given him command of the Alt Clut levies. Brochmail is of medium build and a devout follower of the Christian faith. The young noble is an outsider in the Kingdom of Alt Clut, being an exile from the lands of Caer Magnis far to the south. With his dashing good looks and convivial personality, the men of of the levy have taken to their new leader and are sworn to follow him to the very gates of Hell.

And so the characters are ready to take to the stage and the drama is about to begin... read on next time and find out how the first clash between the men of Alt Clut and the Scotti raiders transpires. 

CLASH OF SPEARS.. GOING ON A DRUID HUNT.

Following his successful and very thorough despoilation of the sacred henge of the Basmatii Tribe, Centurion Perfidius, of Auxiliary Cohors X Flavian Conundrum, was tasked by his superiors with the suppression of the local sacrificial order of the Druids. For some considerable time, his quest proved to be most unproductive, with the guileful priests continually demonstrating an uncanny ability to disappear just moments before the Romans arrived at the scene of their reprehensible activities. Today, however, Perfidious is confident that things are about to change in his favour, having received a very reliable tip-off that Sunax the Despicable Druid, leader and most senior of the Basmatii Druids, has taken refuge in a nearby farmstead, with no-one, other than his Druidic donkey, Asal, for protection. Aware that the nobles of the Basmatii tribe will also be out searching for Sunax, Perfidius has included, not only a group of auxiliary archers in his force, but also, a small group of javelin armed warriors from the Basmatii's sworn enemies, the Amaretii tribe. As the early morning mist lifts, Perfidious, his Optio, Odius and their ad hoc warband warily approach the village, intent on the capture of the reprehensible Sunax and the rich rewards which will be sure to follow. 

The scene of the action centred around the small farmstead, with its two buildings and flimsy wattle fence. To the east, the river flowed serenely over a ford before sweeping on its journey to the sea and it was across the ford that Perfidius and his forces would have to make their attack upon the unsuspecting druid. The Basmatii, lead by the nobles, Orthopedix and Spondulix were hastening from the west, eager to liberate Sunax and deal a bloody blow to their Roman adversaries. 

Perfidius and Odius both lead contubernia of auxiliary spearmen and the archers and Amaretti javelinmen advanced eagerly in support...

The noble Spondulix exhorted his men, ten tribal warriors and half a dozen slingers, forward...

while Orthopedix did the same, approaching the field of battle to the northern side of the farmstead with his group of noble swordsmen and yet more javelinmen...

With the Roman auxiliaries racing to cross the ford, it was vital that the Basmatii prevented them from reaching the farmstead and snatching Sunax from under their noses. The wily Spondulix sent his slingers ahead, with the tribal warriors in hastening behind in support...

On the opposite flank Orthopedix adopted the same stratagem, with javelinmen racing for the cover of the rocks with his noble warriors rushing to cross the wattle fencing and enter the farmstead in search of the druid.

The race for the farmstead was going to be a close run thing, with Odius' auxiliaries crossing the ford and pressing on towards their goal. Meanwhile, the Basmatii slingers had hurried ahead of their warrior support, hoping to slow the auxiliaries down with some accurate missile fire, but, it was they who suffered the first casualty of the encounter when they were hit by a shower of arrows from the auxiliary archers, who had moved up towards the river bank.

In their haste to take up a position behind the swamp flanking the river, the slingers had left themselves dangerously exposed and unable to react to the the fire they now found themselves under and, with the Roman spearmen crossing the ford just to their left, it was possible that they may have found themselves overrun by Odius' contubernium.

The Basmatii nobles were soon in the farmstead and it looked as though they might be about to whisk Sunax away before the Romans could force their way into the settlement, but Spondulix and his warriors were still not in a position to oppose the Romans.

The auxiliary archers continued to move forward and took up a position on the river bank where they could lay down missile fire in support of Odius and his spearmen.

On the opposite side of the farmstead, Orthopedix's javelinmen quickly got the better of their Amaretii counterparts, bringing four of their number down in a deadly shower of missiles. The remnants of the Amaretii were unable to stand and continue the fight and fled the field, leaving the Roman flank exposed.  

Seeing the threat that was ahead of him, Odius halted his men to form up into close order and this delay was sufficient to give the Basmatii warriors time to move into a position blocking the Romans advance on the farmstead. It was beginning to look as though Perfidius was not going to get his hands on Sunax after all.

The Gods, however, were to look down favourably on the Romans and the tide of the battle was about to change very much in the favour of Odius and his disciplined spearmen...

The Basmatii tribesmen hurled themselves against the auxiliaries in their close order formation, with Odius himself fighting in the front rank of his formation...

In a dramatic turn of events, no fewer than six of the Basmatii fell to spear thrusts from the Romans and the remainder turned and fled.

With the warriors gone, the Nobles now had no option but to leave Sunax cowering in the farmstead and hurl themselves into Odius' spearmen...

Casualties fell on both sides, but the outcome of this engagement was brought to a close when the slingers out on the flank brought down another auxiliary which sent them fleeing from the field.

The advantage in this encounter swung rapidly from one side to the other and, having driven one unit of auxiliaries from the field, the Basmatii nobles were instantly hit in the flank by the other...

Already fatigued from their first encounter, the nobles were unable to resist the onslaught and broke, leaving Perfidius and Odius in complete control of the battlefield...

With their warriors and nobles driven from the field, the Basmatii morale crumbled, bringing the action to a dramatic conclusion. Orthopedix, Spondulix, Sunax and Asal the Donkey were all taken by the Romans and led away to face an unspecified but probably pretty awful fate.

The action lasted just five turns and all hinged on the calamitous attack by the Basmatii tribal warriors, who lost more than half their number in a single round of combat. With the loss of the warriors, the nobles were forced to abandon Sunax and attack Odius' auxiliaries which, in turn, exposed them to an attack by the other auxiliary unit, having already acquired five fatigue points! 

The future for our brave Centurion and his faithful Optio now lies in a distant part of the empire, as they are transferred from Britannia to join Germanicus on his campaign against the Germanic tribes in the forests on the east bank of the Rhine!