Trying out some skirmish rules

My recent urban terrain build has sparked my interest in playing some small-scale games. The question is, what set of rules to use? I have quite a few different rulebooks, a common problem for many wargamers, covering a wide range of periods and genres. Some of these sets of rules I have played a few times, while others I haven’t put on the table even once.

I was looking at 7TV 2nd Edition on the Crooked Dice website the other day, and at one point I was thinking about ordering it. But then I reminded myself that I bought the first edition rules over a decade ago and have never got them on the table. When I got the 7TV rules, I bought a bundle with tokens, cards and two supplements, so I thought I should give them a try.

For my trial run of the game, I thought it would be best to start small, so I built two small 100-rating casts. The main conceit of 7TV is that you are not fighting some historic battle but rather making a TV programme. So, rather than building an army, you make a cast, and instead of points, you have ratings.

The heroes were Kung Fu Kelly, a Hardened Investigator (Star), Little Jim Saxon, his Plucky Assistant (Co-Star). The villains were the O’Hara Gang, led by O’Hara, a Faithful Lackey (Co-Star), and four ‘Eavies (Extras).

The Scenario

I decided to play a simple Chance Meeting encounter. Kung Fu Kelly and Little Jim Saxon turned up in Kelly’s Ford Capri in one corner, while the O’Hara Gang arrived in a Ford Transit in the opposite corner. The two sides would try to eliminate each other.

The O’Hara Gang took the initiative at the start of the engagement. The ‘Eavies moved quickly towards Kelly and Saxon, while O’Hara held back, cocking his submachine gun.

Seeing the oncoming members of the O’Hara Gang, Kung Fu Kelly cracked his knuckles and quickly loosened up, ready to teach the goons the error of their ways.

O’Hara ordered two of his heavies to rough up the two interlopers. One of the ‘Eavies charged towards Little Jim and swung his bat, cracking the Plucky Assistant on the skull.

Kung Fu Kelly sprang to Saxon’s aid. Striking like a snake, he quickly knocked out the first ‘Eavy. He then took out a second ‘Eavy with a flying kick.

Telling Kelly to go deal with O’Hara, Saxon pulled his sawn-off shotgun out of his coat. Kelly heard the boom of the shotgun as he raced towards O’Hara and his waiting submachine gun.

O’Hara’s submachine gun peppered the area around Kelly, but none of the shots hit the master of Iron Bull Kung Fu. Kelly’s first strike knocked O’Hara back, taking the air out of him. Kelly smiled as he got ready to teach this old lag a lesson or two. The sound of two bats pounding on Little Jim stopped Kelly from finishing off O’Hara. He quickly turned back to aid his friend. The two ‘Eavies were surprised to be attacked from behind. They turned and tried to use their bats to defend themselves, but they were no match for the raging fists of Kung Fu Kelly.

Kelly’s timely aid saved Little Jim Saxon, but in dealing with the ‘Eavies, he let O’Hara escape this time.

My Thoughts on the rules

First off, I have to say that I enjoyed these rules. They are nice and simple, but with enough tweaks of their own to make them feel fresh.

A lot of the combat mechanics would not be unfamiliar to anyone who has played Warhammer or any of its offspring, such as Bolt Action. You roll to hit, and then there is a wound table in which Strength is compared to Defence on a chart to determine the number you need to cause a wound.

The initiative, activation and event cards are where the game differentiates itself from these mainstays of the hobby. Although initiative is just a roll-off between the two sides, the difference between the rolls gives you Audience Appreciation tokens that can be used to adjust rolls during the turn. Players will only be able to activate half of their force, which can really lead to some interesting decisions.

These rules are not some revolutionary, ground-breaking thing, but they make for a really good game, and I will definitely be getting them on the table again.

A Quick Game of Close Wars-Returning to Venus and the Cruffin expedition

 A Quick Game of Close Wars

Returning to Venus and the Cruffin expedition

There are times in life when work and the responsibilities of being an adult make it a little difficult to find enough time for a ‘real’ game, but Donald Featherstone, in his seminal book War Games, has the answer. In Appendix 1, he outlines a very simple set of rules for fights between small numbers of men. These rules are not as comprehensive as those found in his book Skirmish Wargaming, but they are very quick to set up, and a game with about twenty figures on each side takes around 30 minutes.

I have a rather eclectic collection of figures, but over the last couple of years I have been building up terrain for 15/18mm sci-fi games, so the scale was not a difficult choice. Choosing which range to put on the table was a little harder. I decided to settle on my Venusian project, which I originally started for Congo and which I will, hopefully, finish one day. The figures have not seen the table since March 2024.

Skirmish Narrative

After weeks in the forests of Venus, Reginald Cruffin and his men had seen more than any previous expedition had managed, but with supplies dwindling and sickness beginning to spread through the column, Cruffin decided that he would have to approach the Vhiss'tal tribe and see if they would be willing to trade.

The chieftain of the tribe, Ssthevar, was unwilling to deal with the interlopers. His cunning reptilian mind reasoned that he had no need to trade for something that his warriors could seize by force of arms.

Hearing the whoops of the approaching Vhiss'tal warriors as they ran through the crystalline forest, Cruffin put Alana Quartermain in charge of the right flank while he took personal command of the left. The approaches of the two leaders could not have been more different. Quartermain spoke softly in the Martian tongue, while Cruffin barked out orders as though he were still aboard HMS Thunderchild. No sooner had the troops dressed their ranks than a howling mass of Vhiss'tal warriors burst from the undergrowth.

The crack of the Martini–Henry and Snider-Enfield rifles punctuated the war cries of the tribesmen, but the effect of the section volley was less than Cruffin had hoped for. His Martian Askari and Ruga-Ruga fired wildly, their shots going far astray. Only the disciplined volley of the seconded men of the 50th Foot found its mark, bringing down several of the advancing tribesmen. But even their success was not enough to check the charge of the ferocious Venusians.

The Vhiss'tal warriors entered the fray like whirling dervishes, their spears stabbing left and right, cutting down Martian Askari, Ruga-Ruga and men of the 50th Foot alike. Horn Pipe Bill, Cruffin's batman, threw himself before a spear thrust meant for his commander, saving the officer from being skewered alive but joining the growing number of bodies that littered the field.

The moment of respite allowed Cruffin and the last surviving Askari to flee the combat.

The valiant members of the expedition bent but did not break beneath this primitive fury. On the left flank, Captain Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff steadied his Ruga-Ruga and, in a characteristically clipped manner, directed a devastating fusillade into the Vhiss'tal braves, shaking their resolve before they could close for combat. Many of the Ruga-Ruga fell beneath Vhiss'tal spears, but they had done enough to throw the attackers into confusion and force them to retreat.

While on the right flank, Alana Quartermain rallied her troops with her cool, steely voice. She ordered her men to show the Venusians what the Pattern 1876 felt like when wielded by troops of stout heart. Both the Ruga-Ruga and the Kentish men did good service with their bayonets, finally breaking the resolve of the Vhiss'tal warriors.

A valiant cheer broke out from the surviving members of the expedition; they had survived a clash with these deadly warriors.

Reginald Cruffin smiled with pride at the way the expedition had performed. He would have to see to the training of the Askari; they had not been up to muster.

The fates had smiled upon him, though. Horn Pipe Bill had escaped a fatal wound when a spear thrust was deflected by a hip flask, leaving his old Martian shipmate bruised but not seriously hurt. His thoughts turned to Ssthevar, the chieftain. He had learnt that trade conducted down the barrel of a Martini–Henry rifle exacted a heavy toll in blood. Cruffin hoped that, now the unpleasantness had been dealt with, the two sides could come to some kind of agreement.

Returning to The Game of Highway Warriors

 Returning to The Game of Highway Warriors

My first game of Dark Future in decades

In my last post, I teased that I had received my copy of Dark Future from my younger brother in April. I originally bought the game back in 1988 when it first came out. The game is far from pristine, but all of the components are there, along with White Line Fever and all of the articles from White Dwarf that I cut out back in the day. My older self almost cries at the destruction I meted out to those magazines, but it does mean that I have all of the rules that were published for the game.

As I went through the box more carefully, I noticed that all of the road pieces are a bit warped. The corners are worse than the straights, and even the spin template is showing a bit of a twist, but they are nearly forty years old, so what can I expect? All of the pieces are still usable. The cars and bikes are in surprisingly good condition, and once I slap a coat of paint on them, I can get them on the table.

I took about a fortnight to go through the rules before I was ready to play my first game. Fortunately, the rulebook comes with a series of six learner games. I thought that I would give them a go.

Game one

I broke out two of the cars that I made for Gaslands to try the first scenario. It is a very simple game in which one car is trying to get to the end of seven road sections before the other car destroys or disables it. You may have noticed that my table is a little too small for seven road sections, but I simply removed the rear section after no vehicles were on it and placed a new section at the front of the road. I may try to play my next game on the living room floor, but I am not sure that my knees will be up to it.

Battle report

Along a lone strip of highway, Paz and Baz Chuckle were in pursuit of Lawford Featherstone of the Westbury Warlords for encroaching on their territory.  

Paz opened fire with the machine gun, scoring a critical hit on Lawford's engine and destroying the carburettor.

The brothers could not avoid the oil slick that Lawford had dropped, and Baz panic-braked to keep the car under control.

Lawford sped away from his pursuers, dropping oil slicks as he went. His buggy was constantly being hit by machine-gun rounds.

Hitting a second oil slick at 100 mph, Baz lost control of his vehicle.

The car skidded, heading towards the verge.

Baz fought to right the car, but it started to spin.

Hitting a third oil slick, the car went into a roll.

The Chuckle brothers were thrown clear as their car bounced along the tarmac.

The wreck finally ran out of steam and shuddered to a halt.

Lawford Featherstone drove away from the scene with only minor damage to his car.

Thoughts

The first question that might have crossed your mind is how this compares to Gaslands. The best thing that I can say is that it plays differently. It has a bit more crunch than Gaslands, but not as much as I have often heard on YouTube. I am always a bit disappointed when a YouTuber shows off their copy of Dark Future, or any old-school game for that matter, and declares that they will never play it. For me, these games are there to be played and enjoyed. That is probably enough of a rant.

Dark Future is not a game that I would bring out for a pick-up game on a club night. I think where Dark Future shines is in the campaign rules and the slightly more granular combat. In Gaslands, there is no degradation to your vehicle; it can continue to take damage until it is destroyed. Not so in Dark Future. Cars get worse as they are riddled with bullets, and critical hits can destroy a vehicle really quickly. I enjoy both games because they scratch different itches for me. I am glad that getting into Gaslands has led me back to an old favourite from my childhood.

Dark Future is also packed with glorious images like this: the 80s at their best.

Tussle at Townwall-A two-player game of Rogue Trader

Tussle at Townwall

A two-player game of Rogue Trader

“This life as you now live it and have lived it, you will have to live once more and innumerable times more; and there will be nothing new in it.”

I am not entirely sure how much I agree with Friedrich Nietzsche’s idea of eternal recurrence, but it does seem to ring true when it comes to my gaming. I have found myself drawn back to an old friend: the rules that spawned a multinational leviathan, Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader.

These venerable rules are hardly a streamlined, modern ruleset, yet I have a real soft spot for them. It seems almost surreal that Rogue Trader has been part of my life for nearly forty years.

Those of you who have been following this blog from the beginning will know that it all started with a series of solo games of Rogue Trader. I was spinning a narrative based on the characters and the events that unfolded on the tabletop. I probably burnt myself out trying to play and write up one game a week, so the Cantwara Sector has been left to sit for a while.

Although I was not playing Rogue Trader, I was still thinking about the characters and the sector; I simply needed the right moment and a little inspiration. Inspiration came from two YouTube channels: Tabletop Club, which perfectly captures that old-school aesthetic, and Uglub’s Armoury, which reminded me just how much I love these old figures.

Finding the right time was a matter of kismet: a friend was willing to give the rules a go, and I am on spring vacation.

Narrative

Green light illuminated Lieutenant Grey’s face as he scanned the auspex, his usually calm visage marked by a faint crease of worry. The rebellion was spreading beyond the control of the Imperial forces. The Thunderhawk banked hard to port, narrowly avoiding a burst of anti-aircraft fire. The Marine veteran’s hand brushed the purity seals upon his armour, and his lips intoned a prayer of protection.

His squad was hurtling planetward when his vox-caster crackled to life:

“Lieutenant Marcus Grey. Imperial Command Designate.

By writ of the Adeptus Administratum, and under the watchful gaze of the Omnissiah, you are hereby briefed.

The frontier settlement designated HIVE-OUTPOST ALKHAM-NINE has entered a state of sanctioned disorder.

Xenos presence confirmed. Classification: ELDAR. Threat pattern: Raid and extraction.

Their objective is a relic-signature emanating from the central ruin-zone. Artefact classification pending.

Risk level: SEVERE.

Your directive is thus:

SECURE the precinct zone. DENY the xenos access to the artefact. PRESERVE Imperial authority by force.

Civilian casualties are acceptable. Loss of the artefact is not.

Imperial assets at your disposal include:

Adeptus Arbites.

Imperial Guard elements.
Attached Astartes detachment.”

Grey turned to his battle-brothers. “The enemy lies below us — xenos and malcontents. We shall show them the light of the Emperor. In His name, brothers!”

The Eldar pirates offered a cache of advanced weaponry to secure the loyalty of the local gangs, mercenaries, and the Scargillites — striking miners whose anger burned brighter than their failing industry. The weapons would lend strength to their doomed resistance against the smothering dominion of the Imperium of Man.

Their fate did not trouble the Warlock. To Vaelys, the threads of possibility were already laid bare. He had foreseen the likely outcome: the miners crushed, the gangs scattered, the mercenaries slain or scattered to the void.

Yet even doomed pawns have their purpose.

They would bleed. They would distract.

And in that distraction, Vaelys would claim what truly mattered.

Magistrate Talia Arden struggled through the sucking black mud of Alkham Nine. Once verdant, the world had become a poisoned mire — first through relentless mining, now through war.

Mud dragged at her boots and stained her coat, but she raised her voice above the distant thunder of artillery.

“Forward! Close the distance!”

The soldiers of the 21st Dubris Regiment advanced, slipping as they pushed towards the trench line. They had barely reached it when the enemy opened fire.

Autogun bursts tore through the mud, cutting down the leading ranks. Las-shots answered in ragged volleys, but the defenders were entrenched and ready.

Arden did not hesitate.

She drew her sidearm and stepped forward into the storm.

Warlock Vaelys felt the threads of possibility slipping away. He had to reach the artefact before Imperial reinforcements arrived.

Ignoring his honour guard’s warnings, he rose from the trench and stepped into open ground.

A lascannon beam struck him at once, fired by a Space Marine through smoke and ruin. His guard retaliated, shuriken catapults hissing as monomolecular flechettes cut down three Marines where they stood.

Vaelys laughed.

His thread was not yet severed.

The displacer field flared, twisting space as the blast triggered its defence. In a shimmer of light, he was torn from harm and hurled across the battlefield.

When the glare faded, Vaelys stood beside the artefact.

The flash of light to his right made Gorick “Red Eyes” flinch. Steward of the Scargillites though he was, he was still unaccustomed to the brutal realities of warfare. The noise, the smoke, the suddenness of death — it was nothing like the picket lines and shouted slogans of the mines. He tried to shout orders, to steady his men, but they surged past him towards the enemy trench line, driven by anger and desperation, ready to spill the blood of those who had oppressed them for so long.

The men of Alkham did not realise what awaited them. Concealed within the trench was a squad of the feared Arbites. The blue-clad law enforcement officers stepped forward with cold discipline and calmly opened fire with their bolt pistols. The withering volleys tore through the charging Scargillites, cutting many of them down in the mud before they had even fired a shot.

The Scargillites were saved by Davidus Hurley and his gang of reprobates, the Chess Club. The name had begun as a joke, long ago in the back room of a workers’ tavern, but there was nothing playful about them now. These hardened gang members had clashed with the Arbites more than once, learning through bruises, arrests, and broken bones that the only argument the law truly respected was hot lead.

From behind a pile of concrete tubes and the rusting carcass of an ore container, they opened fire with practised discipline. The sharp, staccato crack of their autoguns cut across the battlefield, and two Arbites staggered as the rounds struck home, their blue armour splintering under the impact before they fell into the mud.

The firefight with the Eldar was not going the Astartes’ way. The relentless hail of shuriken fire had pinned his warriors in place, monomolecular discs whining and ricocheting from ceramite plate. Beyond the smoke and ruin, a band of mercenaries was manoeuvring to outflank them, closing the trap with grim inevitability. Lieutenant Grey could see no path that did not end with the xenos recovering the artefact.

The realisation settled heavily upon him.

Retreat was not a word often spoken by the Adeptus Astartes. Honour demanded advance. Doctrine demanded resolve. Yet command demanded survival. He would not squander the lives of his battle-brothers in a gesture of pride.

Failure would bring censure. There would be reports, inquiries, perhaps even rebuke. So be it.

Better censure than annihilation.

Grey activated his vox-caster, his voice steady despite the storm of fire around him.

“All units, fall back. Tactical withdrawal. Regroup at rally point Sigma.”

The order tasted bitter — but it was necessary.

A game of Zona Alfa in 15 mm

Zona alfa

Making good use of my 15mm Sci-Fi collection

At the beginning of January, I was watching some YouTube when I stumbled across Crusty Colonel’s Zona Krusti battle reports. If you haven’t watched them and you like an irreverent sense of humour, I recommend them. The battle reports got me thinking that I haven’t been making much use of the 15 mm sci-fi figures that I painted last year, and Zona Alfa could change that. 

I ordered both the main rulebook and the expansion book, Kontrabrand. Kontrabrand is aimed at solo and co-op play, which is definitely my cup of tea, but I am going to play the basic rules and really get them in my head before I turn to Kontrabrand.

I played a learning game of Zona Alfa today.  The rules are not that difficult but I am sure that I made quite a few mistakes but it was a lot of fun. I played the first scenario in the rulebook, The Crossroads at Blyatsk, with only one scavenger team, so it was a little easy but it gave me a chance to try the core rules of the game.  I still managed to forget that you gained pinned tokens when you roll critical failures and zone events completely slipped my mind.  Still there is always next time.

Battle report

The GMC sent a salvage team into the Alkham Valley Zone to recover sensitive documents from a missing transport.

Lieutenant Mettraux ordered his team to spread out, keeping their eyes open for any hostiles in the area.

Trooper Douglas pushed forward by himself; his impetuous advance woke a group of Alkham Weevils from their lair. The chitinous creatures burst out of a nearby building and charged the lone trooper.

Seeing the danger Douglas was in, Lieutenant Mettraux ordered the rest of the team forward in support.

As Trooper Douglas struggled to fight off the weevils, Penal Trooper K1985-Warsop rushed to his aid. The convicted beer adulterator was urged on by the drug system locked around his neck.

The trooper pulled out of the combat without looking back, grateful to escape the beasts, leaving K1985-Warsop — a man with little left to lose — to face the weevils alone.

K1985-Warsop laughed manically as the Alkham Weevils tried to eviscerate him with their mandibles. A gleam of joy appeared in his eyes as his shotgun blew the mutated creatures apart; their carapaces were no match for its power.

Seeing the way was clear, the technician moved towards the truck where the documents were located. Her presence reactivated the robotic crew, their corrupted coding twisted by the Zone’s influence.

Douglas smiled as he saw the droids slowly power up. He pulled two grenades from his belt and yanked the pins free with his teeth, then launched them towards the bots with practised ease. The explosives arced through the air and detonated in the middle of the droids, blowing three of them apart.

The last droid rushed the technician, the creak of its prematurely corroded joints cutting through the air. Technician Bakhuys drew her pistol and opened fire. The rapid bursts from her automatic weapon bounced harmlessly off the mindless robot’s armour.

Lieutenant Mettraux activated K1985-Warsop’s drug dispenser without a thought for the convict’s well-being. The chemical cocktail burned away any fatigue and drove the penal trooper back into the melee. He fired his shotgun like a man possessed, blasting the robot into fragments. The way was clear for the salvage team to recover the documents.