Odyssea partem de Mandragoris pt.4

Pyter was awoken in the night, shaken from slumber by his host Kievan. "Something is wrong," the miner said, his words quiet but sharp, "the birds have been talking and they know that you are here." By the end of Kievan's sentence, Pyter's boots were laced and his hatchet unlatched from his bag. When Pyter asked for elaboration, he'd donned his helmet and locked it to his chestplate.

"The Parliament of Witches know what you've done, and their familiars have been searching the woods for strangers," Kievan croaked, "it wont be safe to take you the usual way."

The remainder of Pyter's company had wore an expression one might have after learning something unsavory about the soup you'd just eaten. What morsel of hope they'd had the night before was now curdling in their stomachs, and more than one face had muddy streaks where the tears had mingled with the constant coating of grime. Who was left now? Vadim, Dima, Boyra the Bannerman, Maxime... Dusan? 

No, Dusan had died a horrible death by the jaws of some monster. Pyter's memory couldn't place the last face. It was young and severe, with deep rings around the eyes. "Lada," the face said, "under Captain Artem Petrov," and it raised a hand to its brow in salute. Pyter nodded, and then turned back to Kievan, who passed him a lantern. "Stay close, and follow my light," Kievan said before throwing the door open and darting out into the dark. The soldiers followed silently, and Pyter closed the door behind them, feeling a pang as he looked back into the little lived in space that had sheltered them for precious few hours. He didn't know when he'd be in a house again, but knew it would be too long.

Episode Four - A Detour 

The Sons of the Mandrake are led by lamplight to the entrance of the mines, and the detour Kievan planned for them becomes apparent. As they neared the Adit, the treeline breaks to reveal something their guide hadn't expected. A shack lurches from the woods, its walls bent at unnatural angles. Beside it, a woman tends to a giant kiln that belches smoke into the night. Rifles are readied with a grim efficiency. "Not tonight," the powderhorn says. "Not tonight," agree the steel balls. 

"Not tonight," beat the weary hearts.

{It has been a moment since we've visited these souls, but now we know all the names, and can watch whats left of this theater of war while an hourglass drains somewhere off set. We know the end is coming and who it's coming for, but the uncertainty... it's palpable. I write this to you as an invested viewer, who has done few favors for our favorite sons. The Campaign will end when the last Mandrake falls, and since in three games we've halved our cast, I am teetering with anticipation.}

In this scenario, the Soldiers and the Witch's forces fight a pitched battle lasting six turns. By the end of the sixth turn, the side who defeats more points worth of units is declared winner, with double points being awarded for killing the Witch, and the Miners. As a change of pace/attempt at playtesting, I'll be using a set of rules I wrote for the Turnip 28 setting. 

The forces are as follows

Sons of the Mandrake (9 points)

• Pyter - Root Captain
• Boyra the Bannerman - Standard Bearer
• The Miners - Sappers
• Sons of the Root - Grenadiers 

Advokate of the Witch's Parliament (11 points)

• The Witch - Root Priest
• Gingerbread Minions - three units of Vegetable Vermin
• Black Goat - a single Root Hound

Tonight's soundtrack is Jim Williams' "a Field in England." 

Turn 1

The two forces advance on one another, taking great strides across the pitch (some on shorter legs than others.) The Witch's Goat takes a running charge at Pyter, but neither hide nor coat is pierced during their quick tussle. The Grenadiers move and shoot, but are out of range. The Gingerbread Minions close the distance, and one batch makes it to the miners. Their wicked little weapons make short work of Kievan, and the other workman scurries away in terror.

Turn 2

Pyter, seeing the danger of the lone Miner, rushes to his aid. However, this bid for heroism leaves Boyra vulnerable to the Goat, and despite his best efforts, the bannerman relinquishes his grip on the earthly plane. The Miner and Pyter fend off another charge from the baked brigands, but across the field the Grenadiers are not so lucky. As the Gingerbread Monsters take another life, the Witch's cackling chills the rest of the Mandrakes to the bone.

Turn 3

Narrowly dodging miniature swords and spears, Pyter and the Miner charge into the spice scented fray, stomping the iced menaces to a fine powder. The Grenadiers follow suit on their pests, but these victories are short-lived as a third horde of cookies carves into the remaining Miner with vengeful gusto, and the Goat tramples another soldier. Lada and Vadim are all that's left of the Grenadiers, and the realization causes them to stumble back away from the carnage. Sensing triumph, the Witch draws nearer to Pyter.

Turn 4

Although fighting valiantly, Pyter is mortally wounded by the Witch and the Gingerbreads. Lada and Vadim, try to recover their heads to go to their Captain's aid, but it is too late. That, and the Goat is still a pressing issue. Vadim is relieved of his duties by its terrible horns, but his ribcage ensnares the beast, lending Lada the chance to slit its vile throat with her bayonet.

Turn 5

It is only the Witch, Lada, and a last unit of pastries. Despite the choking awareness of defeat, Lada raises her rifle indignantly. The shot goes wide as the Witch flies towards the lone Grenadier.

Turn 6

Lada's next shot misses again, as the Witch barrels into our last hero. They fall to the ground, howling and cursing, but the fight is over quickly, as Lada's service sword finds purchase in the Witch's skull. Without her magic to sustain them, the cookies lose their anima. Copper mingles with the scent of pine, and Lada works to catch her breath. She has survived, though to what end...

...to not die. Not today.

Conclusion:

I might be biased, but I had fun. To clarify, I had fun with the system, not with subjecting all of our characters to insurmountable odds. I think it was a really odd contrast actually, enjoying the process of becoming familiar with a ruleset, while stomaching some abject horror as the mechanics translated to a bloody gauntlet of an ending. In summation, I am satisfied for now with this glimpse we've had into a world and time not quite our own. Perhaps someday we'll revisit the Sons of the Mandrake in battles yet to be fought, but for now an ending is ending and we see what has been wrought.

The side of the mountain was subject to the elements, and Lada marched with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Sunlight began to peer through the trees, and the light felt orange as it peppered the soldier's face. It tasted like the soup she remembered her mother making, and a small delight in spite of everything began to roost in her chest. Hours passed and scenery changed like they do in dreams, in their lazy loose way where you accept it even if the sense of the thing is very little. When it occurred to her that the sun was rising again, she looked up from her boots, and an unbelievable sight greeted Lada at the end of the road... The Road! When it had returned, she couldn't recall, but where it led brought tears to her eyes. The ramparts of the Raised City stood proudly in the distance, and their parapets stretched atop them like open arms, welcoming home their prodigal son.

The End