The Shepherd

A Story for Lynarra

Blood drops left a trail in the snow. A trail quickly erased by the blowing flakes.

He dragged himself through the knee deep drifts. Cold fingers tugged at his uniform, getting into his wounds, until he couldn't feel them anymore. Blinded by fatigue and tears he trudged on, only stopping to pull the sling of his rhyfle up his shoulder and look around. It was no use. He couldn't see anything, just howling whiteness. Adjusting his sling again, he lurched forward, lost, not knowing where he was going. 

He cursed the General Staff and his Master-Yawdryl for putting him here instead of on a train for Lynarra Leave. With cythwyn and the long nights and storms, major operations halted. Airships were grounded. Tractors got stuck in the mud. Breech blocks froze. Forward observers couldn't see to adjust artillery fire. So armies pulled back, dug deeper, warmer bunkers and waited out the season. The supply trains could barely keep everyone fed, so custom dictated that half the troops were sent home for a long leave to be with their families at Lynarra. 

Who got to go home was determined by long custom. Length of time at the Front, wounds, meritorious citations all added points towards your Leave ticket. Some rhyflers watched the Leave points closer than the Mhudd-ball League leader board. 

He stumbled again and wiped snow off his snout.

A dark rock loomed up in front of him. Exhausted, he slumped against it to get some shelter from the wind. He did an inventory. Pockets empty, ammo pouches empty. He had half a magazine in his rhyfle.

He sighed in resignation. He was well, and truly, froomed.

He tried to get up, but his legs weren't listening. 

"Okay, I guess this is what we're doing now."

He settled back against the stone with his rhyfle across his lap.

The mission had been huvi-shit from the start. Some Staff-oik wanted a patrol to confirm the location of the enemy's cythwyn lines. Dugouts and trenches that they'd already identified. He should have been on a truck heading home for Lynarra Leave, but he'd caught the Master-Yawdryl's shit list and been detailed to lead the patrol.

Stealthily they had located the enemy dugouts, and seen the glow of warm fires, and listened to lonely rhyflers singing Lynarra Songs about home and love and longing. 

On the way back they had bumped an enemy patrol, probably doing the same huvi-shit they were. Nod and Porvyl went down in the briefly fierce exchange of fire. He, Huw and Derfyl were all wounded. Then a pack of Sarf-Cyn, smelling their blood and anxious to eat as much as they could before laying eggs and dieing, came at them out of the darkness. Sinuous, terrifying forms with razor teeth tearing Derfyl to pieces before they expended the rest of their ammunition. As they moved on, an early cythwyn blizzard roared up around them and Huw disappeared behind a curtain of snow. 

He was alone. 

As the snow drifted around him he began to sing. He sang the Song of his Ancestors, remembering his mother and grandmother teaching it to him. Singing it with the rest of the clan at the Shrine on Feast Days. Singing it around the table with Uncles and Aunties and Siblings and Cousins before the Lynarra Feast. He supposed that when his mother got the telegram listing him as "Missing in Action. Presumed Dead." she would go to the Shrine and light a candle and the grandmothers would add his name to the Song.

As he sang he noticed another voice joining in. "Huw? 'zat you?"

But no. Strange voice. Singing other names. 

A white figure came out of the swirling snow. "Why are you weeping, brother?"

He suddenly realized that he had been crying. The tears frozen on his cheeks. "I want my mommy" he said weakly, giving into the pain.

"Don't we all? Lynarra almost upon us and our hearts yearn for our mother's warm termite rolls and roasted huvi, stuffed with beetles." The white figure leaned closer, their snouts almost touching. He noticed that the newcomer's head and snout were wrapped in white cloth and a fur lined hood was pulled up over his ears. "And our mother's yearn for us as well. Lighting candles against the darkness as they petition the Ancestors to watch over their kits."

The white figure stood up. "Ease your heart brother.  Leave your burdens behind."

He clutched his rhyfle with it's half-empty magazine closer. "But I can't." He said weakly, the ghosts of Drill Yawdryls whispering to him out of the snow. A rhyfler was only as good as his rhyfle. A rhyfler without his rhyfle was nothing. 

"You must" the white figure said gently. "Or die. And then your mother will weep. And enough mothers have wept today." He pointed at the stone. "The Ancestors will accept your rhyfle as a worthy offering."

He turned and saw that the stone that he had been sheltering behind was an ancient, weather worn, Ancestors Shrine. Unsteadily, he got up and took off his pack and helmet, setting them beside the stone. Finally he carefully leaned his rhyfle against the worn carvings. 

The Stranger wrapped a thick blanket around him and helped him up on a cadier that had been patiently waiting behind him. A flask of something warming was put in his hand. "Drink deeply. Your need is greater than mine." Gently rocked by the motion of the cadier, he fell into a fevered sleep and dreamed of his mother. 

His mother was singing to him in his nest. Then he woke and the Stranger was singing as he walked in front. His wounds had been freshly dressed. The weather had cleared and the snow was dripping off the branches of trees. He noticed the rhyfle, wrapped in white cloth slung across the Stranger's back, and where the sling pulled at his white camouflage cloak, the collar of his tunic.

"Am I a prisoner?" he asked. 

The Stranger stopped and turned around. "We are all prisoners here. Prisoners of forces vast and terrible, beyond the comprehension of poor rhyflers such as us."

The Stranger kept walking. "That leg of yours is bad. You'll be on the Leave Train for certain. And probably get transferred to a cushy Rear Echelon job after that."

"Who are you?" He asked weakly. 

"A brother. We are all brothers out here." 

"Why?" was all he could ask.

The Stranger cooked his head to one side, thinking. 

"Many reasons. Taking you prisoner wouldn't really reveal any interesting intelligence that I haven't already gathered. It pleases me to push against the dark whirlwind that sweeps over Alwyd. By getting you home I feel like I'm lighting a Lynarra candle against the darkness. And if you went missing, your mother would cry. And for the sake of her tears I will set aside Oaths and Duty. Enough mothers have cried and if I can comfort one, then perhaps it is enough to set in the scales against my crimes."

He stopped at the end of his speech and helped him down. He cut a branch from a tree and fashioned a crutch for him.

"There" He pointed. "Your outpost line is just over that rise."

"Thank you, brother."

"Kiss your mother for me, and be a candle in the darkness."

He limped over the hill and waved to get the sentries attention,  shouting the password. When they waved him forward he turned to say "thanks" but the Stranger was gone.

This Quar's War

Busy weekend meant I got a table set up Saturday,  but didn't start flipping cards and rolling dice until 9 pm Sunday night.

I set up a table to try out new terrain, including the new Big Sexy Trees and Huvi pen. Two companies are converging on the village. Victory Points will be awarded for buildings controlled. 

Rather slow working through the rules, but I managed 4 Rounds (turns of the cards), before I decided that I really should go to bed, because Monday morning comes early, with a harsh, unforgiving inevitability. 

To play solo, I decide what I want to do with potentially 5 Activations in order. I then do Activations 1 to 3 before turning over the card to see if Activations 4 and/or 5 will occur.

Villager passes the Shrine on his way to work

Couple of villagers discussing the weather, crops, or how many bottles of homebrew for a dozen Huvi eggs.

Royalist left

Royalist center with Company HQ

Royalist right

Royalist Right from above. Maneuver arrows and fire markers are set down 

Royalist Left. M3b HMG team gets its own movement arrow

Crusader right 

Crusader center

Crusader left from above

Crusader right from above. They will do a "Sweeping Advance" to move their Fire Priority markers onto the Coftyrans. 

Opening advance 

Opening advance through the grain fields. Squad at the back about to be taken in a crossfire 

Crusaders open fire 

Crusader left advancing covered by tractor. They are in the text book "2 up 1 back" inverted V, with Is-Caerten and attached H11 LMG team in the center. 

2nd Crusader squad firing, with attached H11 LMG. Ouch baby, very ouch. 6s kill. Saves are by Condition Shifts. Cover gives a 1, prone another 1, etc. So the light cover of the grain means every 1 saves a kill and convets itvto a Suppression. Except the Yellow dice. Yellow are "Lethal Dice" and reduce Condition Shifts by 1 can only be saved by a yellow 1. In this case the Yellow 1 doesn't count because it's only CS 1. If they'd had CS 2, the Yellow 1 would negate the yellow 6, and the 5x Blue 2s would also count (which would mean 0 kills instead of the 5 kills they got)

The results. 6x dead, 4x broken, 1x still standing 

Monday Evening 

I finished the first Turn (a Turn is one cycle through the Activation Deck) the next evening after getting the dishes done. 

Chyweethl opens fire! and... dud round. Takes another Activation to reload.

Everybody is prone and blasting away. Royalists get a 2 Condition Shift for being prone plus light cover, Crusaders are mostly in an open field,  so only get a 1 Condition Shift. The Royalists win the Firefight and half the Crusader squad is Broken. 

Royalists occupy a cottage and garden. I gave squads occupying cottages and their gardens a 2 Condition Shift

Crusaders taking fire.

Firefight! So close even the Is-Caerten's Grifkis shotgun is adding 3x Lethal dice to the pool

Crusaders in big house firefight across the street 

Lots of Suppression markers being thrown down 

End of Turn, the Morale is checked for the two Broken squads. The Crusaders recover. The Coftyran squad slaughtered early on falls back 4" and recovers. 

So interesting shooting and suppression mechanics. I need to drive some tractors around to get a better feel for them. I also need to revisit crew served weapons.  I'm pretty sure I was not doing the HMG correctly. 

Hobby Miscellany

Bit of a catch all as I come out of a bit of a slump. Delaying tidying up from the battle of Kleindorf was a logjam on my mojo. 

Quar 

Let's see.... painting got stalled. Glue failure and frustration made me stop assembly (fortunately as it turned out), and I've kept the Toulmorean quar and the rest of the PPCLI on hold until more parts arrived yesterday from the Vegas Foundries. 

I have also been invited to join the big battles This Quar's War playtest group. I'm still reading the rules, but they look promising, and I hope to push figures around this weekend. 

I have a company for each side, plus supports, so it'd be rude not to.

Also this month on the MyMiniFactory Tribe there is an entirely new faction being released as .stls. 

These are the Gloam-Hyyn, coastal marsh dwelling Quar who gave really grabbed my imagination. 

First week's release, 6x rhyflers 

Note camouflage helmets and functional sandals 

Their tractor is called the Squeedle, and we're speculating that it's amphibious. Which makes sense in a swamp. 

I just like that it looks like a teapot. 

For uniforms I'm going to draw on WW2 Japanese, but in my mind they're speaking Creole and singing sea shanties, since they'd rather be fishing or shrimping when not fighting. 

But that's for 2025. I've got Toulmoreans to do first. Although I'm going to build them as an opponent for the Gloam-Hyyn, so I'm leaning towards greener uniforms than my Crusaders. Olive green at least, if not a jungle green.

More Big Sexy Trees!

Model Builder Supply shutting it's doors and not finding anyone to buy the business, and running a 30% off sale, prompted an expenditure on quite a few of their really lovely trees. I got myself several 8", 6" and a few 5.5" trees that look properly in scale to 28mm figures. 

Hot glued to heavy washers. Waiting for paint to dry before flocking

The elves will finally have woods worth defending. The Quar and 28mm Napoleonics will enjoy them too, I'm sure. 

Close up of 28mm Austrians with 6" trees immediately behind

I also grabbed a pack of cherry trees. Because samurai games need flowering cherry trees. Don't ask me why, I don't make the rules.

Mantovia 

A recent posting on Bluesky featuring recce forces clashing in a 1980s Cold War game got me pondering what recce units would look like for the Mantovian and Tartarian forces.

Mantovian light cavalry will be driving Ferret armoured cars, because they're adorable. A Patrol will have two Ferrets and an 8 man section of dismounts in a pair of Landrovers.

I asked for 4. But looks like I've got an entire Troop of three AC patrols now.

Tartarian Combat Reconnaissance Patrols will have a section of Motor Rifles in a pair of BTR40s supported by a T34/85.

Don asked if I had enough BTRs for the Battle of Kleindorf. So He printed a whack more.

Poking around for appropriate air support revealed that the Soviets liked propeller aircraft for ground attack until the mid-50s. The Il-2 Sturmovik kept flying with the Czechs and Poles until 1949, and with the Bulgarians and Yugoslavians until 1954. It's successor, the Il-10, was in frontline service with the Soviets until 1956. So my Pe-2 twin engine bomber is entirely appropriate. 

The Königlich Mantovisch Luftwaffe could be realistically flying Tempests, or F8F Bearcats, or Corsairs, or any number of piston engine aircraft, but I found the Saab J29 Tunnan. It's cute, very Cold War, and apparently a better ground attack airframe than the F86 Sabre. 

Flight of J29! 

Perhaps the Americans need their F86s in Korea, and a back alley deal with some CIA money is used to buy the J29s from Sweden in an effort to get them to join NATO.

Now I need to decide upon wing rondels that are unique, and I can paint.

Midgard 

Surprisingly I am not getting any desire to buy more figures with this. Surveying my armies I can easily put 300 pt armies out for everyone. Possibly even 400 points. Although the orcs might need a few characters. Even my Middle Empire Romans will be 400 pts easily, although I haven't played around to see if I can put that many Goths on the table yet.

Once I sort out movement trays and measuring sticks I will try to make some armies and roll some dice. 

If I get excited about new toys, perhaps this will motivate me to finish my Conqueror dwarves and build some baggage for the orcs.

Operation Nostalgia: Clash at Kleindorf

ISABELSTADT (Reuters)- There are reports of renewed intense fighting along the frontier tonight from the small alpine country of Mantovia. The sound of heavy artillery can be heard in the nations capitol and there are reports of heavy columns of Tartarian tanks making deep penetrations....

Hauptman Johannes Wahl was shaken awake by his driver. "Sir! O Group at the CP!"

Wahl made the short walk from the back of the Landrover where he'd been trying to sleep to the collection of radio vans. Pushing under the camouflage netting he found the Brigade Command Post to be a buzz of carefully camouflaged activity with an edge of panic.  The Brigade Commander was listening to a report from one of his Intelligence Officers, who was drawing on a map . Big angry red arrows were exploding across the Area of Operations.

The General looked at him. "Wahl, the Tartars have broken through the 2nd Dragoons at Grossklumpen and are pushing up the Duppleburg valley. The 1st Fusiliers have got a weak company strung between Kleindorf and Altendorf here." He indicated a pair of small villages on either side of a wooded valley with a big red arrow pointing directly to the fields between them. "I need you and your Centurions to reinforce them. Gruber will give you details on route and intelligence estimates. Get moving, now!"

They drove through the night towards the thunderstorm of Tartarian artillery that rumbled and flashed in the dark sky. When his Centurion growled into Altendorf, he found a worried and exhausted Fusiliers Hauptmann outside a gasthuas. "Thank God you're here! I've only just arrived myself. No time for mines or wire. I've got my landsers in the houses covering the intersections and some panzerjaeger and machine gun teams strung along the road connecting the two villages." Wahl conferred with his tank commanders and they deployed one platoon behind each village to create a cross fire in the fields. Wahl posted his command tank on a small wooded hill from where he could direct the battle and call in artillery fire.

1 Platoon Queen's Leibgard Battlegroup deploys behind Kleindorf

Comrade Platoon Commander Stepan Bosvic was in the hatch of his BTR watching the sunrise over the mountains while his Motor Rifle Platoon drove past an old factory. The afternoon before they had followed behind a devastating artillery barrage and driven past burning tanks and foxholes filled with bleeding shattered men. It had been a night of flames and chaos as onwards they rushed. His platoon was to secure the village he could see past the trees up ahead. They'd dismount just outside of the village and methodically clear the houses and then enjoy whatever food these Capitalists had hoarded in their kitchen larders. Just then he noticed the squat square outline of a tank emerge from behind a house. "Dismount!" he shouted, too late.

"Target front! BTR. One Five Zero meters. Fire!" The 20 pounder cannon roared, shattering the morning quiet.

1 Platoon opens the bowls, firing on the Tea Break card.

"Everyone out!" screamed Comrade Platoon Commander Stepan Bosvic as he watched his lead section die in a fireball. His section dismounted to the right of the road, scrambling through the bushes. The other section dismounted to the left and began advancing towards a copse. Some light mortars found them still in the open. Before they could get among the pine trees and approach the village under cover, automatic rifle fire erupted from the windows of a yellow house. Comrade Platoon Commander Stepan Bosvic and half of the men with him went down, bleeding out into the tall grass. The remains of the section ran back down the road as a second BTR exploded behind them.

1st Motor Rifle platoon dismounts under tank and mortar fire.

The company of T54 tanks, with an attached platoon of Motor Rifles, charge forward across the farm fields.

Making use of the Armoured Bonus card to make a faster advance.

1 Platoon engages the T54s

2nd platoon of Motor Rifles, attached to the tank company, dismount after another BTR gets destroyed

3rd platoon Motor Rifles dismounts outside of Altendorf, lead section gets under cover of the trees.

Cautious advance. Leading section is taking heavy fire from both houses

Carl G team bags a BTR

Here you can see leading MR section (lower right) caught in a heavy crossfire from the terrace house to it's front and the red house on it's flank.

2 platoon puts the T54s in a crossfire with some very good shooting dice.

2nd tank platoon attempt to flank right to get away from the Centurions behind Kleindorf. But they've exposed their flanks to fire from the Centurions behind Altendorf

Hauptman Wahl in his command tank engages the Tartarian 2nd tank platoon trying to flank to the right and avoid 1 Platoon.

A ranging round from Mantovian artillery drops among the Motor Rifles who charge forward towards Kleindorf to get out of the barrage.

They engage the skirmish line of machineguns and tank hunter teams in Close Combat. The Mantovians are wiped out, but they take half the MR and Comrade Platoon Commander with them.

With the lead T54 platoon destroyed, the Company Commander and the 3rd platoon go left to get out of the crossfire and support the attack on Altendorf

3rd Motor Rifle platoon rushes the big red house. The defending section is wiped out, but at heavy cost. The Motor Rifles lose their third Platoon Commander.

Carl Gustav tank hunter teams in Altendorf finally bag a T54 after several shots.

Remains of 1st MR plt in woods and 2nd MR plt along hedge outside of Kleindorf

View from 2 Platoon

Tartarian 2nd Motor Rifle Platoon and another spotting round lands among them

Remains of Tartarian 1st Motor Rifle Platoon

Overview. Tartarians only have 5x T54s still running and have lost about 70% of their infantry, including all of their platoon commanders. The Mantovians have lost 12 men, including an MMG team.

Hauptman Wahl watched as one of his Centurions put a couple of high explosive rounds into the red house captured by the Tartarians. Fusiliers covered by machinegun fire from an upper story then dashed across the street. The muffled bang of some grenades and brief chatter of rifle fire. After a few moments a couple of Fusiliers emerged with a bleeding prisoner.

Feldwebel Mueller walked over. "Looks like they've fucked off back down the road." He paused. "For now."

Wahl accepted the canteen cup of tea his driver handed him. "Ja. For now."

****************************

So ended a solo, highly indulgent, game of I Ain't Been Shot Mum. I used some stats for T54s and Centurions provided for me by a contact on Bluesky who plays Fate of a Nation, the Arab-Israeli War variant of Team Yankee. I will probably adjust these for future games, and lean more to the stats someone came up with for Korean War and Yom Kippur War IABSM. 

It was just hedonistic fun getting the toys on the table and enjoying the look and feel of things. This was very much the sort of game I had in my imagination as a kid. Since I had primed the Mantovian infantry with olive green spray paint, I felt very much like I was 12 again, painting my Airfix figures. And to be honest, the paint jobs on the infantry are no great hell and probably what I would have achieved as a teenager to be honest. But they look the business at arm's length and do the job on the table.

I suppose for better scenario balance the Mantovians should get fewer Centurions (boo!) or the Tartarians need more T54s and infantry. Or I could reinforce the Tartarian armoured attack with some T34/85s too. They'd be weak, but they'd still be a threat to be dealt with. I did give the Tartarians artillery support and airstrikes, but the cards never came up for the artillery and the air support didn't make it's die roll.