“1 Valormr: val (war or slain) + ormr (wyrm), pronounced Val-ORM-r. During the Throrgrmir Renaissance, when the new-hatched wyrmlings prowled the dungeon, already dragons came to hasten the prophesied Age of Dragons. The dwarves called to their neighbors, who responded in force. Dragons recruited forces of Chaos to oppose them.”
Wargamers often refight historical battles. They layout terrain similar to that upon which a battle was known to be fought and command troops equipped and armed as those of the era in numbers and composition according to historical record. These aspects they couple with the game rules to simulate events as they may have unfolded. Curious wargamers might change some aspect of a battle, thereby departing from history, in order to ask the question, “What if…?”
Eskilsson tells us precious little about the Battle of Valormr and, of the campaign that led up to it, nothing at all. We understand from this that the dragon incursion had little impact on history’s course. Being curious wargamers, we want to learn more.
The Valormr Campaign, like a historical wargame, simulates history. It doesn’t tell us what happened. It tells only what might have happened. Still, we may draw from events unfolded to inform the history of Wyrmwyrd.
In the introduction to Setting Up a Wargames Campaign, Tony Bath warns the neophyte campaigner against “plunging immediately into complicated campaign rules” (551). Though the preparation is much different, the risk is similar to that of the adventure game campaign creator: “For many it can end by getting bogged down in the complications and, in the ensuing frustration, vowing never to go in for that sort of thing again.”
To this I add my own constraint, shared by many modern wargamers, that of time. I aim to finish the Valormr Campaign by summer’s end. I prefer to spend these days fighting battles with fantastic creatures in murky swamps, not getting bogged down with the rules in them.
Bath continues: “For that reason it is often best to start off with a simplified campaign.” Valormr is such a campaign. I draw from the first three chapters of Wargames Campaigns, wherein Bath discusses the map of the continent, the people and cultures which inhabit it, movement and weather, making contact with the enemy, transferring the strategic to the tactical scenario, and disengagement.
In later chapters, Bath delves into supply, characterization, and lots of fun and interesting bits he calls “campaign extras.” I’ll save these for more advanced games of the future. In setting up the Valormr campaign, where I make an obvious shortcut for simplicity or where I am so inspired, I record ideas concerning more complicated rules. As ideas, these are neither fully developed nor well thought through. If you go for a more complicated campaign, massage them as necessary to fit into your game.
Notes
1 As copies of the original text are less common, I cite page numbers from Tony Bath’s Ancient Wargaming (Curry, 2009).
Heroes trained, Solon Theros is ready to show them to Anax Archontas. He wants to showcase them—not kill them. But if the heroes are not challenged, the dragon will be displeased.
Champions of Chaos
“Heroes of Chaos” is the fantasy combat phase of Champions of Chaos, an introductory wargame scenario, in which Solon Theros chooses champions to fight for Chaos.
Heroes of Chaos Versus Ortuyk’s Horde.
Orders of Battle
The heroes are accompanied by heavy and armored footmen. Solon Theros charges the hobgoblin Ortuyk to assemble an army. To the goblinoid horde, Solon Theros adds lizard men, who inhabit the marsh south of Aldefane, plus lycanthropes, an ogre, and a true troll, all of which are found in the surrounding countryside. From the dungeon below Aldefane, he adds ghouls.
The point value of creatures that fight on the fantasy combat table should equal the point value of the total number of heroes that survived training. For example, I have eight heroes, which comes to 160 points.
Choose from ghouls, lycanthropes, and at most one ogre and one true troll. The first three are the easiest on the Fantasy Combat Table and still challenging as a group to the heroes, while the true troll is a significant challenge on its own.
The goblin horde and the lizard men should total 100 points and include a couple units of archers. The heroes can lead the forty points of foot troops, divided evenly between heavy and armored, to take out the goblinoid archers, which are a threat to lone heroes.
Orders of Battle
Heroes of Chaos
Ortuyk’s Horde
Troop/Creature Type
Cost
Figures
Total
Figures
Total
Troops
Heavy Foot
2
10
20
Armored Foot
2.5
8
20
Subtotal
18
40
Fantasy Combat
Heroes
20
8
160
Subtotal
8
160
Troops
Goblins
1.5
10
15
Goblin Archers
4.5
4
18
Hobgoblins
2.5
12
30
Hobgoblin Archers
5.5
4
22
Lizard Men
2.5
6
15
Subtotal
36
100
Fantasy Combat
Lycanthropes
20
2
40
Ghouls
10
3
30
Ogres
15
1
15
True Troll
75
1
75
Subtotal
7
160
Total
26
200
43
260
Notes on Orders of Battle
Choose one hero to be the Army Commander, who sets up not attached to any unit.
Ortuyk is the Army Commander of the Horde, which includes the lizard men. The lycanthropes, ghouls, ogre, and troll are unaffected by the Army Commander.
The usual pall over Aldefane obscures full sunlight, so goblins do not suffer from it.
Goblin and hobgoblin archers, using short bows, have a missile range of 15″.
Lizard men attack as Heavy Foot and defend as Armored Foot. With a move rate of 6″, lizard men traverse the bog at normal rate, though they cannot charge through it. Morale Rating: 10; Point Value: 2.5.
As heroes do not check morale, Solon Theros has no need for the torturer and executioner and leaves the east and west gates open. Roll morale for the foot soldiers and Ortuyk’s Horde as normal.
Setup
Heroes of Chaos deploys troops to the west of the killing field, Ortuyk’s Horde east of the stream—except the lizard men, who are deployed (hidden) in the bog.
Army Deployment. Ortuyk arrays the goblinoid foot troops behind the two eastern columns, the archers forward at stream’s edge. The lizard men, hiding in the bog, emerge from beneath the water’s surface to attack from the flank and rear.
The lycanthropes, ogre, and troll enter the arena from different locations in the movement phase of the turn following a trigger, according to the table below.
Creature Type
Start Location
Trigger
Werewolves
South gate
First melee
Ogre
East gate
Werewolves enter
Ghouls
Loggia base (center north)
Horde at 25% or less
Troll
West gate
Ogre enters
The ghouls, in the dungeon, flee a cleric’s turning up the stairs out a door at the base of the loggia. As the ghouls tend to avoid conflict with the large fantastic creatures and rather enjoy humanoid flesh, Solon Theros signals the cleric once the goblinoid presence is thinned, i.e, when the Horde is reduced to one-quarter or less of its starting strength (9 figures).
Victory Conditions
Heroes of Chaos and Ortuyk’s Horde win when all enemies are defeated or forced from the field.
Solon Theros wins the dragon’s praise if at least six heroes survive. If eight or more heroes survive, Anax Archontas appoints the super-hero General Commander of the Chaos Armies.
So Long, Solon…
If five or fewer heroes survive, Anax Archontas has Solon Theros over to the lair for dinner. Menu: Super-hero Barbecue.
High in the sky, the sun seeped through the foggy shroud that covered Aldefane. The arena’s hard dirt, stained with blood, was silent. The victors stood in one rank. Swords sheathed, helmets under arm, mail dented, shields marked by scores of deflected blows. The day broke with hundreds on the field. These twelve warriors defeated all foes.
With a boom, the western door burst open, and Solon Theros strode through it. Red eyes glared from the mask of the winged helm. Mask and eyes fixed the rank of twelve. He approached the victors with one purpose. From these, Solon Theros would make heroes to fight for Chaos in the dragon’s army. But first, each must pass the final test.
In one hand, he grasped a broad-blade sword. In the other, a shield, demonic skull splayed across the face. Bare shoulder muscles rippled with the swing of his arms. Oiled leather creaked at every step. Scaled armor clinked at every other. Boots crushed the ground, grinding stones beneath.
“When a Super-hero approaches within his charge movement of the enemy, all such units must check morale as if they had taken excess casualties” (Chainmail, 30).
Following the joust, remaining figures are armored foot. Any who fail the morale test finish in the care of the torturer and executioner. All who pass undergo one year of training to become heroes. These will fight in the final phase of Champions of Chaos.
A Final Test of Courage. “Heroes (and Anti-heroes) need never check morale” (30).
Her name was Nine. Pal Hargrane knew by reputation the fighting woman, another countryman who, by decree of Solon Theros, was his enemy. Hargrane had not confronted a Ternesman in the melee. He faced one now in the lists. And this one, if he’d got the story true, once slew a trio of orcs while holding the gate alone at Thornedown Fort before it could be closed. The make of warrior opposing him gave Hargrane no reason to disbelieve the tale.
Astride a roan horse, she sat tall in the saddle and handled the lance with ease. Like his, her shield bore gouges from flail spikes.
In the first ride, he broke his lance on the shield. Its point striking the scarred blue field above the middle of three white stars was pressed into his mind’s eye, as though he’d glimpsed the sun, and now a shadow of it obscured his vision.
Hargrane took another lance from a lackey and held it aloft. When the horn sounded, he tucked his heels into the mount’s flanks, and horse and rider launched across the tiltyard. Nine did the same. Pal Hargrane would never remember the moment when the two met in a clash of steel that thundered between the arena’s walls. Both mail-clad riders fell to the ground. While the horses paced out the charge, neither moved.
He wasn’t aware of time passing as a slit of shrouded sky turned in slow circles through the helm’s visor. As the nausea passed, a vague memory of imminent danger crossed his mind. With a grunt he raised himself to an elbow. Wood splinters lay on hard packed dirt. Between him and the south gate, the black-hooded torturer halted, shoulders fallen. A blade-length away, Nine struggled to stand.
Hargrane grabbed his shield and stood, drawing his sword. Nine stood also, but her stance was unsteady. Though a leg was injured, her blade moved at arm’s end in a nimble dance. A thrust slid across Hargrane’s breast plate as he turned to avoid it. She blocked his cut with the shield. His sword added to the scars upon the blue field.
They exchanged more blows in like manner until, lowering his shield, he drew her into another thrust. He stepped aside. On the bad leg, she was slow to recoil, leaving her flank exposed. He saw the opportunity through the imprint in his mind’s eye of three white stars on a blue field. Ternemeer was his country; the Ternes were his countrymen, indeed. It was the only time Pal Hargrane ever hesitated in battle.
“Jousting in Chainmail is like playing rock-paper-scissors.”
The analogy is as oft cited as apt. In Chainmail (3rd ed., Tactical Studies Rules, 1975), opposing knights each choose, in secret, an aiming point and a defensive position. Each aiming point is then compared against the other’s defensive position on the Jousting Matrix to determine results of one “ride.”
Results range from a miss to breaking a lance to being injured or unhorsed. Based on the results, points are awarded for each ride. Unless one is unhorsed, the knight with the most points at the end of three rides is declared the winner, awarded the laurels, and gets his or her dance partner of choice at the after party.
Playing the hand game, probabilities for a win, loss, or tie are exactly equal. Your choice of three forms—rock, paper, or scissors—versus your opponent’s choice is either weaker, stronger, or equally matched.
Winning at Even Odds
Deprived of any rationale, strategies for winning rock-paper-scissors often involve being quick—watching the opponent’s hand to see what shape is forming, sneaky—waiting till the last possible instant to form your own shape, or tricky—calling out one shape just prior to forming another. These are denied us in Chainmail jousting, where we write our choice of aiming point and defensive position on a hidden sheet—outside of learning the rhythm of your opponent’s pen marks on a hard table, which is sneaky.
For more complexity, we might play rock-paper-scissors-Spock-lizard, which adds two more choices. Since each choice defeats half the remaining choices, no one is superior to another. Five choices does, though, reduce the odds of a tie to one-in-five.
The French play the game with four choices. In pierre-papier-ciseaux-puits, the rock and scissors fall into the well (puits), while the paper covers it as well as the rock. Here we have two options that outperform the others, which gets closer to jousting in Chainmail.
But Chainmail jousting is different from all those. Instead of one choice, each player in a joust has two: the attack (aiming point) and the defense (defensive position). But this only doubles the complexity, effectively playing the same game twice at one go—once as attacker, once as defender—without necessarily reducing the chance for a tie. Although we’ll see that a draw in Chainmail jousting is improbable.
Where Chainmail differs from the hand games is in the options. Instead of three, four, or five, each player has eight options for the attack and six for the defense. This, again, only complicates the matter, though by magnitudes.
“Results can vary from both opponents missing to both being unhorsed, as a study of the Jousting Matrix will reveal” (26).
To figure any strategy out of the Jousting Matrix, our study must go further than the range of results. More careful examination shows the attack options differ in their probability of success and limit the attacker’s possible defense options. As well, the defense options have differing probabilities of success. One successful defense result, “B,” ensures a favorable end to the joust in the next ride. A frequent occurrence, a “B” also subtracts 1 point from the attackers score, making a tie unlikely, though not impossible, in even a single ride. At this point, we see that the analogy is less apt, even if it isn’t entirely inapplicable either.
At this point, we see that the analogy is less apt, even if it isn’t entirely inapplicable either.
Evaluating Options
Point System
To evaluate the strength of each attack and defense, we use a simple point system.
Result
Points
(U)nhorsed
1
(H)elm Knocked Off
½
(B)reaks Lance (without unhorsing)
−½
Miss and Glance Off results are equivalent: no effects, no points. A glancing blow only lends dramatic effect.
We give and take ½ point for Helm Knocked Off and Breaks Lance, because once either is accomplished, the next ride ends in an Unhorsing. For if a defender’s helm is knocked off or an attacker’s lance breaks, he or she must take a Steady Seat the next ride. Knowing this, the opponent aims FP. The other can only hope to achieve an unhorsing as well.
Because a Breaks Lance with Unhorsed (B/U) result penalizes the attacker only 1 point while it wins the joust, we don’t subtract any points in the evaluation system when they occur together. Similarly, the Injured result with Unhorsed (U/I) awards extra points to the attacker but does not impact our assessment. We use these results—and the combination B/U/I—to break any ties in the evaluation.
Defensive Positions
Aiming Point
Lower Helm
Lean Left
Lean Right
Steady Seat
Shield High
Shield Low
Total
Helm
+½
+1
+1½
DC
+1
−½
−½
−½
−½
CP
+1
+1
−½
+1
+1
+3½
SC
−½
+1
+½
DF
−½
+1
−½
−½
−½
FP
+1
−½
+1
+1
−½
+2
SF
+1
+1
Base
−½
+1
−½
+1
−½
+½
Total
+2
+1½
+1
−½
+3½
+½
Aiming Points
Counting up the total points for each attack reveals the optimal aiming points assuming random defensive positions.
Aiming Point
Score
CP
+3½
FP
+2
Helm
+1½
SF
+1
SC
+½
Base
+½
DC
−½
DF
−½
The tie between SC and Base might be broken in favor of Base due to the extra points for an Injury versus Shield High. We’ll see below, however, that Shield High ranks low on the defensive positions list, so the Injury is unlikely. More likely is the Breaks Lance result, which comes up three times when aiming at Base versus only once at SC.
The tie between DC and DF is broken by a lance which suffers in the later case against the Lean Right position.
“Aim pale; avoid dexter.”
This might be part of initial jousting instruction. For we see that CP is by far the best aiming point, with FP coming in second. While DC and DF are the worst.
Defensive Positions
To evaluate each defense, we apply the same point system. In defense, the lower score is better.
Defensive Position
Score
Steady Seat
−½
Shield Low
+½
Lean Right
+1
Lean Left
+1½
Lower Helm
+2
Shield High
+3½
“Steady in the seat; don’t raise the shield.”
Steady Seat is the best defensive position, with Shield Low next. Lower Helm ranks above Shield High, which is by far the worst defensive position. In the best case, your opponent Breaks Lance against Shield High, but only when aiming DC. Plus, we see above that dexter is not a favorable side for the aim. In the worst case, your opponent aims Base, and you won’t be up for much dancing at the after party.
In Play
Now that we know the best and worst attacks and defenses, we might think it’s that simple and mumble the analogy under our breath as we turn the page to the fantastic parts of the book without first tilting. But unlike rock-paper-scissors, we only experience the interaction of rules and human psychology seated opposite an opponent. In that sense, it’s more like Diplomacy—to exaggerate the point in the opposite direction. We discover its virtues in play.
Simple to Teach and Learn
The rules consist of a few lines of text and the Jousting Matrix, which, once we learn to read it, contains the essentials of play. A few minutes and a couple demonstration rides and we’re off to the lists. Best if each player has a copy of the Matrix before them.
Change It Up
Once the players understand how the game works, it isn’t long until everyone is aware of the best and worst attacks—if that wasn’t the final instruction of their tutelage. Of course, we all use two or three best attacks and defenses. But we have to change it up with middle-ranked options for both from time to time to keep the opponent guessing.
Note Attacks and Defenses
To play, each player makes a secret note of his or her aiming point and defensive position. This done, both players reveal their choices, and results are read from the table.
Know Your Opponent
I recommend keeping a record not only of your own but of your opponent’s aiming points and defensive positions as well. For a single joust of three rides, it probably doesn’t matter as there isn’t much chance for patterns to emerge. But in a jousting tournament, they do, and it’s difficult to see the patterns in memory.
With a quick look at previous rides, you might notice that your opponent favors a particular attack. You might see also that he or she intersperses a second favorite every third ride. Thereby, you gain an advantage.
Know Thyself
Take a look at your own previous choices too. If you see a pattern in your attacks or defenses, your opponent may see it as well. Use any patterns in your opponent’s defense to choose a different aiming point, likewise for the defensive position.
The Jousting Matrix in Fiction
I used the Chainmail Jousting Matrix to add strategy to a fictional jousting scene. In The First Story of Littlelot, the hero must joust against the villain to rescue Gwenevere. If Lancelot wins, Maleagant frees the queen from his tower prison. If Maleagant wins, Lancelot becomes a prisoner too. Those familiar with the Matrix might decipher the knights’ aiming points and defensive positions in each ride. All action in less than two pages, “The Joust” is a quick read.
Range of Results
Examining the Matrix, we see the results of aiming points against defensive positions. In play, we see the myriad combinations of two aiming points and two defensive positions in a series of rides combined with a series of jousts.
May well Gygax and Perren mention the range of results as a selling point. Even in the not infrequent case of a broken lance: We are constrained to a defensive position, certain to be unhorsed in the next ride. In our final effort, should we aim pale to increase our chances to unhorse the opponent as well? Or will she expect that strategy and lean left. In that case, we aim sinister fess… But maybe she’s expecting that too?
The best strategy depends on knowing the opponent. Look for the pattern in your record.
Within a Scenario
As a stand-alone game, Chainmail jousting rejoins the hand games in the list of games you play once and never pick up again. There must be consequences to winning and losing a joust.
Simple stakes are built in to OD&D’s wilderness exploration (Vol. III, 15). If we wander too close to a castle, its lord might challenge us to a joust. Win, and the after party goes on for a month. Lose, and we continue our exploration of hostile territory sans armure.
We might build an entire scenario around a tournament, but the scenario should include high stakes on the tournament’s outcome. Since winners and losers are determined at the end, the stakes might propel the story into the next scenario—in one direction with a win, another direction with a loss.
Conclusion
So, while some may yet liken it to a simple game of blind choice and even odds, I think the analogy an exaggeration that unjustly discredits the game. For, while it is easy to learn, Chainmail jousting is complex, its outcomes diverse, and its judicious use can enhance our role-playing and wargame scenarios.
…while it is easy to learn, Chainmail jousting is complex, its outcomes diverse, and its judicious use can enhance our role-playing and wargame scenarios.
If you have any strategies for winning the game, ingenious uses for Chainmail jousting, or other comments about it, please leave a note in the comments. I’m always looking for ways to up my game.
Gygax and Perren describe the jousting event: “Knights in ‘friendly’ combat, armed with lance and sheild, and mounted upon mighty destriers” (Chainmail, 26).
The original quotation marks imply irony. Indeed, in the context of our scenario, this is no amicable tournament but mortal combat. The objective is to slay the opponent.
Start
The 24 victors of the man-to-man combat phase mount horses and face each other across the central arena. Each figure competes in one joust of three rides. Victors go on to the final phase of Champions of Chaos.
Notes on Jousting
Follow Chainmail’s Jousting rules (26-7, 42) considering the following notes.
By now it is understood: one does not yield nor give quarter in the presence of Solon Theros.
When a rider is unhorsed, combat continues on the Man-to-Man Melee Table (41).
The other rider is not obliged to dismount. These are not knights; they follow no code. This is Chaos.
Consider each rider to wear plate mail and helmet, carry a shield and lance, as well as a sword—all provided by Solon Theros.1
Mounts, also provided by the super hero, are not barded.
See the section on Mounted Men (26), including the table on the chances for an unhorsed rider to be stunned.
A combatant injured as a result of a joust (an “I” result) subtracts 1 from any dice rolls—on the Melee Table, for instance.2
If neither combatant is unhorsed after the third ride, both continue to the final phase.
Knights Among Us
A rider who unhorses the opponent on the first ride may have had significant training. Mark the figure for a mounted hero. Should he or she succeed the final phase, consider treating the figure as a Knight (not from Religious Orders of Knighthood) under Historical Characteristics (18).
Lists at Aldefane. Twenty-four riders compete for the right to become heroes.
Figures
Miniatures are not at all necessary for the jousting phase. There is no difference from one rider to the next. In my case, having only one horsed figure and it without a lance, putting miniatures on the table adds nothing to the spectacle.
I do find one purpose for their use. As one of the competitors is a favorite—Pal Hargrane has some background developed through play—I plant two additional figures of the same likeness among them. By so doing, I triple Hargrane’s chances to continue to the final phase.
Notes
1 The Jousting Matrix assumes combatants are properly equipped.
2 I’m making this up. Other than losing 10 points, Chainmail includes no consequences to a jousting injury.
Some thousands of years prior to the beginning of Wyrmwyrd, the Throrgrmir dwarves defended their subterranean civilization against the red dragon Anax Archondas.
While in Viggo Eskilsson’s day, we refer to the battle as Valormr, at the time it was known as the Battle of Throrgrmir. Later historians would call it the Second Wyrm War. The first was the Battle of Throrgardr.
In the Valormr Campaign, we simulate events and engagements leading up to the Battle of Throrgrmir and the battle itself.
The Valormr Campaign Strategic Movement Map.
Legend
Terrain
Population Centers
Clear
City
Coast
Town
Forest
Settlement
Hills
Infrastructure
Mountains
Bridge
River, Major
Channel
River, Minor
Ferry
Sea
Ford
Swamp
Road
Fortifications
Track
Castle
Ruins
War Room Map. In Setting Up a Wargames Campaign, Tony Bath mounts the strategic map for his years-long Hyboria campaign on a wall with pins to mark army movement. For the summertime Chainmail campaign, wanting to get maximum use out of the pre-painted plastic, I prefer the tabletop. Printed at four times the size, the strategic movement map fits on the dining-wargames table. Army commanders occupy hexes, which are six miles across, a half day’s marching.
To the strategic map, I added two towns, cataracts, fords, a ferry, and a bridge. The map image at top is updated. In addition, I appended a legend to this article. The map in higher resolutions, 100, 300, and 600 dpi, is available on the Downloads page. [08:10 15 August 2021 GMT]
The voice of Solon Theros boomed in the arena. “Your enemy is your enemy…”
Pal Hargrane adjusted his grip on the sword and raised the shield again. Solon Theros called a halt to the battle, but his tone forebode ill comings.
Hargrane’s wooden shield, painted with Ternemeer’s three white stars on a blue field, separated him from the Dracken Deep soldier opposite, who raised his flail. The spiked ball dangled above blood-spattered dirt. A moment before, the spikes gouged Hargrane’s shield, and his blade nicked the Drackean’s cheek. The mark trickled red into the man’s dark beard above his own shield, which bore a dragon head, black on dark green.
“Allies You Have None”
The scene depicted here was played on the wargames table. The scenario and setup is described in “‘Allies You Have None’,” the man-to-man combat phase of Champions of Chaos.
“Your countryman is your enemy…”
Hargrane looked to his left and right. Ternesmen along the line, few remained, did the same.
Hargrane’s true countrymen were far away—across the sea, his mother told him. Vikings killed his father and sold his mother, the babe Pal in arms, to Darkmeer traders, who brought them to the Low Countries. Pal grew up starving as a slave, working beside his mother in the mud fields of the Lionsgate Wards, until Ternemeer raiders captured them. Pal was in his twelfth year.
In Ternemeer, they were better treated. They weren’t slaves to the Ternes but bonded laborers, indentured for an indefinite period to pay their own ransom. Such were the customs in Darkmeer. But Pal and his mother had good food, comfortable quarters, and not so long work days. The Ternes protected them from raids by the Warders as well as the Drackeans. Now, years later, his mother was treated as any other Terneswoman, and Pal Hargrane fought alongside Ternesmen and loved them.
With pride he carried the shield with their coat of arms. The blue field was the Ternemeer, a lake after which the surrounding territory was named. The three white stars were reflections in its surface, representing hearth, family, and the protection of one’s neighbors. Ternemeer was his country. The Ternes were his countrymen, indeed.
“Allies you have none—Fight!”
The command echoed between the walls. Three hundred warriors stood, brows furrowed, heads cocked. Pal Hargrane struggled to make sense of the words. Blood pumped hot in his ears. His head spun.
Before the echo faded, a cry of rage rose up from behind Hargrane’s recent opponent. The red mark on the cheek was replaced by a spiked ball and a splash of blood.
Nostrils filled with the smell of copper, Hargrane braced the shield and rushed the new enemy. His blade separated the life from the Drackean’s body, as battle cries again filled the air over the arena at Aldefane.
“Fight!” echoed in Jarl’s ears. To his right, a Ternsman loosed an arrow into the back of a footman, another Ternesman. As quickly, Jarl drew the string of his own longbow and put an arrow into the first. As cries rose up from the battlefield, warriors fell upon it. The nearest target was a Ternemeer swordsman, back turned, eighty yards away.
While Solon Theros spoke, Theodoard got to his feet. He stood knee-deep in running water where he almost drowned. Crossing the stream with his company of armored flail men, he tripped. A man in plate mail is not quick to rise from prone. Soaked with water, he is less quick. Face down in a foot-deep stream, he doesn’t breathe.
Theodoard picked the flail and shield from beneath the rippling surface, grumbling under his breath. He missed the entire battle. For that, he would be ridiculed. There was a Drackean footman now, turning toward him with a smug look.
“Allies you have none—Fight!”
Or maybe it wouldn’t matter so much. Theodoard charged.
Gareth Tor dropped his bow and drew his sword. Any archer who did not would be the first target of any other archer who did not. A Ternemeer armored warrior charged toward him. Another warrior, a Drackean archer like himself, sword drawn, charged the Ternesman from the flank.
When the Ternesman went down, Gareth Tor charged the Drackean, who he recognized. Tor feigned a cut but thrust instead, as he had done in a dozen sparring matches against Seitse Baack. Seitse never did learn to avoid the feint.
Pal Hargrane turned to face his next opponent. None were near. Fallen bodies lay around him. Sixty yards distant, a Ternesman raised a bloody sword. His eyes met Hargrane’s. Then he stopped. The eyes grew round, and the Ternesman fell forward, an arrow in his back.
Hargrane followed the arrow’s fletching to a Ternemeer longbowman. The Ternesman nocked another arrow. Shield leading, Hargrane moved toward the Ternesman. Another warrior, a Drackean flail man, moved in the same direction with the same purpose in his step. The bowman aimed and, as quickly, shot. But the arrow was for neither warrior.
Crouching to pick up the fallen Ternesman’s shield, Gareth Tor looked up in time to see the profile, a steady vertical line and a diminishing horizontal—a receding elbow—a hundred thirty yards distant. He raised the shield and ducked behind it. The arrow’s steel head slammed into the wood, which shuddered at the impact.
Tor grabbed his bow from the dirt and drew an arrow, while he stood. Two armored warriors moved to engage the Ternemeer longbowman, but they were two shots away.
Tor’s first shot went wide. The Ternesman’s next arrow plowed into the ground at Tor’s feet.
While the Ternesman was at the far end of bow range, Tor was well within reach of the other’s longbow. As the Ternesman drew again, Tor let fly another. It too went wide.
The warriors charged the Ternesman, who turned his draw on the swordsman, twenty yards away. Tor nocked and drew, steadied his aim, and released the arrow.
Pal Hargrane charged. The longbowman nocked a third arrow and drew it back. Then he pivoted. Hargrane looked into the Ternesman’s eyes. They were blue. He covered the eyes with his shield, still charging. The arrow rang his helmet like a bell.
An instant later, Hargrane and the Drackean flail man closed on the longbowman, as the last drew a sword. Three weapons raised. Battle cries pierced the air, and an arrow slipped between the two armored men to strike the longbowman’s chest.
While the swordsman checked his swing, Theodoard allowed the flail to follow through. The sword would be quicker, but, now that one bowman was down, the more imminent threat to both warriors was the other bowman. Panting under chest plate, Theodoard yanked the ball from flesh and turned on the Drackean across the field. It was a long way to run. Flying arrows made it longer.
But the Drackean bowman held the missile weapon straight out to one side. Then he dropped it. Relieved that he wouldn’t have to run again, Theodoard raised the flail, but the sword was quicker.
The Drackean bowman, now armed with sword and a Ternesman’s shield, fought well, but Pal Hargrane saw the feint. He avoided the thrust and planted a blade in his opponent’s ribcage. The bowman slumped to the ground. The shield lay across the body. Hargrane’s eyes fell to three white stars on a blue field.
Again, the command echoed between walls. “Halt!”
After Jarl Falls to an Arrow, Pal Hargrane and Theodoard Turn to Face the Archer Gareth Tor.
“Missiles cannot be fired into a melee” (Chainmail, 16).
I allowed it. Though the melee phase follows missile fire, opponents in contact are considered to be engaged in melee. But, having no allies in the fight, Gareth Tor didn’t care if he missed the intended target.
While rolling the attack, I thought of a couple ways to handle a miss. Fond of neither, I was glad the bowman hit the mark.
In D&D (1974), after equating one turn to ten minutes, Gygax and Arneson state, “There are ten rounds of combat per turn” (The Underworld and Wilderness Adventures, 8). As Zach Howard writes, “This is the main reason that the combat round is typically interpreted as 1 minute long in OD&D.”
Indeed, in OD&D the length of a melee round is as clear as it is ambiguous in Chainmail’s Man-to-Man Combat section.
Furthermore, if Chainmail’s combat round is not otherwise “modified in various places” in OD&D, might we then apply the statement retroactively to Chainmail’s man-to-man melee round? In OD&D, a character gets one attack per one-minute round, so the same, a 1:1 figure in Chainmail. The question remains open.
Aside, if we need further proof that units in mass combat melee get only one throw of the dice per turn: it isn’t logical that opposing regiments could finish a melee in a single minute, while a couple of stragglers are still duking it out on the edge of the field.
Considering the clear definition of a round in OD&D, I retract the final conclusion made in “Chainmail, OD&D, and the One-Minute Combat Round,” that is, that the OD&D combat round must be less than one minute in length.
To the contrary, again if we can apply the statement in OD&D retroactively to Chainmail, Gygax and Perren do in fact intend the one-minute round for Man-to-Man Combat, and to be clear, in that one-minute round, each combatant gets one attack—a single throw of the dice.
I retain the other conclusions and observations made in the article. The conclusions, in particular, are that the length of a mass combat melee round in Chainmail is perfectly ambiguous, and that the man-to-man round is not specified.
In the case that the clear rule in OD&D is not a clarification but a modification to Chainmail, then the time scale in Man-to-Man Combat could differ from the mass combat time scale. I point again to the more articulated actions accounted for in Man-to-Man Combat—should one seek justification to change the rule and implement a shorter combat round in their OD&D game.
Thanks to James Maliszewski for bringing attention to the article and to Zach Howard for the comment.
An earlier version of this article did not allow for the possibility that the ten-rounds-per-turn rule is a modification of Chainmail to be applied in OD&D. The final paragraph has been edited accordingly. [05:03 25 July 2021 GMT]
