Toys on the Table

Привет всем моим русским читателям.

Парень с бородой

There are, I know, those among my loyal readers who would wish me to write more postings on the subject of witch burning. For my part however, I think that the time has come to put that behind us. And so the blog returns to its proper purpose: to report on my failings as a table top general.

Last night saw the first part of a big bash, all the toys on the table Italian Wars fictional battle in James' opulent wargames room in Ilkley, a small spa town on the edge of the Dales which some have compared with Moscow. Anyway, as usual the Olicanalad blog contains lots of pictures and all the detail that you need to know; including the extremely sad fact that James seems to have counted each figure on the table. I have always wanted to be able to paint like James; now it seems that he wants to be an accountant like me. "Каждому свое." as they say in Moscow.

However, back to my abject performance of last night. The first die that I rolled was a D12 to establish the quality of my commander-in-chief: it was a one. After that things went steadily downhill. Actually, the collapse on my left could have been a lot worse as Peter was only able to take  advantage of one of the six Lull cards in my deck on the first pass through. My real problem was that whatever idiot shuffled the cards - that would be me then - had sorted all the Command cards to the back which meant that when any of my units started to retreat they basically carried right on going. Even when I turned my 'Gott Mit Uns' wild card instead of being able to use it for some sweeping (though non specific) strategic advantage, I had to instead attempt to rally the remnants of the Imperial cavalry. 

I did have some success with my skirmish cavalry, where a succession of even rolls and some cheesy use of a two segment move nearly, but not quite, repeated the previous week's success against a unit of heavy cavalry. And one of my foot skirmish units halted a Swiss pike block - albeit briefly and at the cost of them all dying to a man. So the scene is set for the game to be fought to a conclusion next week; a conclusion that is already, I fear, predetermined.