The Missing Hat - a Turnip28 Battle Report

The Missing Hat - a Turnip28 Battle Report

The soldiers had tromped through this particular patch of mire some days ago, and Maurice could recognize his boot prints in the dark red mud. These depressions however were marching in the wrong direction. At the behest of Captain Dukok, the Maris Pipers had backtracked thirty klicks in the hopes of recovering her mighty war-hat. Perhaps it had fallen off when it rained radishes on Monday, or been stolen by one of the Beetroot Boys they'd encountered the night before. It was even a distinct possibility that its legs had begun twitching again, and it had scampered off into the brush during the company's afternoon tea. Whatever the exact circumstances were, the hat was gone and the soldiers were tasked with finding it. Maurice cast a baleful glance at the muck and unholstered his clam rake.

The Battle

By some luck, the Maris Pipers find themselves clashing against another company of soliders somewhere in Cist. This scenario was the base scenario provided in the Turnip28 Ruleset (version 15 to be exact,) and my partner in grime and I eagerly placed terrain and deployed before getting elbow deep in our first wargame of 2021.  

Deployment

In this three-snob-match, I brought a toff, two toadies, two units of brutes (cc), one of fodder (bp), and one of chaff (bp). My opponent brought a toff, two toadies, a stump gun, a unit of bastards (cc), one of fodder (bp), and one of chaff (mw).

Turn 1

"I remember seeing it here" croaked Bagsey, lurching ahead on a pair of gnarled stumps. The rope around his waist grew taught, dragging the five soldiers tethered to him in a merry little procession. Bagsey's tug was so violent that milky white mucus drizzled out the vents in their visors, leaving a shimmering trail behind them in the bogs.

The Maris Pipers surged forward under heavy cannon fire, seizing objectives as they hunt for their Captain's hat. Obliviously, a team of chaff attempt to ambush a moody unit of enemy fodder, and are blindsided by a pack of bastards, who send the chaff legging it back across the field. My fodder surge in to reinforce their comrades, and after a volley of murderous musket fire, decide that their effort is best spent elsewhere as well.

Turn 2

Mumbles and Whiskers were brothers at one point before the root grew into the former's brain. Now Whiskers rode his sibling into battle like a mighty seed-steed, screaming obscenities and smashing Mumbles' helmet to steer him towards the fray. "You lot call yourselves Pipers?! Pathetic," shrieked the Toady, "We'll show you how its done, you cowardly lot." With a furious clamor, Whiskers fists reminded Mumbles to turn around, and together they charged into the fog.

One of my Toadies decided to challenge a unit of fodder, and was promptly blown away by their gunline. Likewise, the two brute squads took heavy fire on the other end of the field, one being reduced to two meaty minions, and the other diving behind the cover of a ruined farmhouse. Orders were given to deaf ears as the fodder rallied, took heavy losses from a nearby cannon, and then ran off into the woods, never to be heard from again.

Turn 3

A bloody hand clenching a ruined boot poked up from out of the mud. "I found it," shouted the soldier around a mouthful of dirt. His superior officer being rather unimpressed tamped his helmet back into the puddle with a few deft stomps. He took the shoe though, as one never knows when such a snack might come in handy.

Elsewhere, the remaining chaff meet an undignified end, and an already battered bristling of brutes likewise find themselves full of holes. Someone fell in a hole. They won't be missed

Turn 4

Captain Dukok rummages through her bag, looking for a bit of ham she'd saved from her last raid. Her hand wraps around a dry, furry stick, which turns out to be the paw of the fox on her lucky taxidermied hat. She makes certain that no one sees her drop it on the ground, and then she walks away. After a minute of pacing , she cries out in surprise at the manufactured discovery. Those who aren't dead cheer.

From out of nowhere, also known as a dilapidated shed, my brutes rush across the field to counter the enemy fodder. After much kicking/screaming/rejoicing the enemy runs for the hills and the brutes are left sitting ducks for the stump gun. As the smoke clears, all combatants realize that an equal number of objectives have been captured. Its a draw!

So that was it, a rough and ready first game of Turnip 28. Its now a few matches and another version of the game back, so forgive me if not all of my descriptions match perfectly with the pictures. Overall, it was a really great time, with quick and responsive game play that drove home the brutally dark comedy of the setting. 

 

Since this match, the game has only gotten better, with the designers overhauling some of the more glass-cannon units and tinkering with certain weapon and activation minutiae. These fundamental learning games were done without cults, and now that my opponent and I have a greater understanding of the rules, I look forward to exploring the tactics and modeling opportunities of those features.

Hope you enjoyed this batrep! See you next time!