Heroes of Chaos

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
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
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.

A Final Test of Courage

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
A Final Test of Courage.
“Heroes (and Anti-heroes) need never check morale” (30).

 

Strategy on the Jousting Matrix

“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.”

Jousting
 

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       +1   +1½
DC +1 −½   −½ −½   −½
CP +1 +1   −½ +1 +1 +3½
SC     −½     +1
DF −½ +1   −½   −½ −½
FP +1   −½ +1 +1 −½ +2
SF     +1       +1
Base −½   +1 −½ +1 −½
Total +2 +1½ +1 −½ +3½  

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
Base
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
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.

Death Rides to Mortal Combat

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.

  1. By now it is understood: one does not yield nor give quarter in the presence of Solon Theros.
  2. When a rider is unhorsed, combat continues on the Man-to-Man Melee Table (41).
  3. The other rider is not obliged to dismount. These are not knights; they follow no code. This is Chaos.
  4. 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
  5. Mounts, also provided by the super hero, are not barded.
  6. See the section on Mounted Men (26), including the table on the chances for an unhorsed rider to be stunned.
  7. 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
  8. 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
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.

The One-Minute Combat Round Revisited

In “Chainmail, OD&D, and the One-Minute Combat Round,” I focused so closely on Chainmail that I neglected a thorough review of OD&D. In a comment on Grognardia, Zach Howard of Zenopus Archives points out the flagrant oversight.

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]

Chainmail, OD&D, and the One-Minute Combat Round

I have long struggled with the one-minute combat round sometimes used in OD&D. Yes, it is easily ignored and many do. But I like at least to make sense of why a rule is as it is. If I don’t understand, whether I use it or ignore it, I’m bugged.

After a reader pointed out an oversight, I reconsidered the final conclusion made in this article, that is, that the OD&D combat round must be less than one minute in length. Please see “The One-Minute Combat Round Revisited.” Though the rule in OD&D—and by extrapolation in Chainmail—is clear, I still struggle with it, and the other conclusions and the observations made herein remain valid, so I leave this article as is.

I think I’ve sussed it. Forgive me if you’ve got this figured out before. I’m catching up. Much has been written about turns and rounds in Chainmail melee. Most of what I find on the internet discusses melee resolution in mass combat.1 I wasn’t able to wade through it all. Please do point me to other arguments or make your own in the comments below.

Mass Combat vs. Man-to-Man

I’m talking here about the combat round in Chainmail’s Man-to-Man Combat system, which is inherited by OD&D. On the subject of melee resolution in mass combat, the rules are, whether by design or lack of it, perfectly ambiguous. One could argue either way, citing, in many cases, the same passage from the text.

To decide, I defer to the definition of Melee Resolution (15). According to my reading, melee “rounds” occur at step 6 in the turn sequence. Each side engaged in melee throws one or more dice a single time to determine hits, casualties are removed, and post-melee morale is tested. If both sides stand the morale test, they are still engaged in melee. But, unless in the middle of a charge, we go on to the next melee on the field, where we repeat the process: dice, casualties, morale, until all melees have had a round. Then, we go back to step 1 in the turn sequence to let other figures on the field get a turn before we continue melee(s) at step 6 in the next turn.

In Chainmail, Gygax and Perren give us the one-minute turn for miniatures combat (hereafter, mass combat2). They also give us the man-to-man combat rules, to which “all the [mass combat] rules apply, except where amended below” (25). Later, in D&D (1974), Gygax and Arneson describe Fighting Capability as “a key to use in conjunction with the Chainmail fantasy rules,3 as modified in various places herein” (Men & Magic, 18).

Mass combat and man-to-man melee must take place at different time scales.

Modern interpretation of this combination of rules yields the one-minute combat round for OD&D. [See also “The One-Minute Combat Round Revisited.”] After a few more man-to-man combat rounds this morning, it occurs to me that mass combat and man-to-man melee must take place at different time scales. That is, in a one-minute turn, all units engaged in mass combat roll the dice once against opponents, while figures engaged in man-to-man melee may roll more than once, exchanging a series of blows, until the outcome is decided—in the same one-minute turn.

I outline the argument below. I hope it is more coherent than its subject matter.

Diverse Sources

Even the casual Chainmail reader is not surprised to learn that the published rules are not a cohesive system for mass combat and individual melees with magic and monsters, integrated like the systems on board an M1 Abrams main battle tank. Chainmail is a number of rules subsets, cobbled together from different sources, more akin to a field-expedient shoe repair job.4 Historian Jon Peterson finds antecedents for the three major subsets, which correspond to the major divisions in Chainmail’s contents table.5

  • RULES FOR MEDIEVAL MINIATURES—Rules for Medieval Wargames, Tony Bath, 1966.
  • MAN-TO-MAN COMBAT—Contribution to Wargamer’s Newsletter #51, Phil Barker, 1966.
  • FANTASY SUPPLEMENT—Rules for the New England Wargamers Association, Leonard Patt, 1970.

Note that Chainmail does not take the earlier systems whole cloth. Peterson uses words like “derivative,” “borrows,” and “prefigures” to describe the relationships.  Of the subsystems, Peterson writes, “each derived from different influences in the creative commons of miniature wargaming, and although Gygax adapted and anthologized them, little effort was made to reconcile or interwork them.”6

It is this lack of reconciliation that sows confusion. That each subset comes from a different source opens the door on the possibility that the time scales differ in mass combat and man-to-man melee.

Turn Sequence and Man-to-Man

Before I go further, it must be understood that the Turn Sequence is used in the Man-to-Man system. If you’re a believer, please skip down to the next heading. If not, let me convince you.

The Turn Sequence, whether move and counter-move or simultaneous movement, stipulates steps for each turn. The sequence is, of course, given in the mass combat section. But those rules apply to the man-to-man rules “except where amended” (25), and, in this regard, they are not.

The best evidence for this is in the “first blow” section (25), which introduces the notions of “attacker” and “defender” without specifying how the designations are determined. It’s implicit—use the Turn Sequence: “1. Both opponents roll a die [for initiative].” Unless the opponent with the high roll opts for the counter-move or wants to parley, he or she is the attacker. The other, the defender.

Melee Resolution

So, if we agree that the Turn Sequence is intended to be used with Man-to-Man Combat, then, after initiative, the opponents move, take artillery and missile fire, and at step 6: “Melees are resolved.”

Here is where the confusion between the two disparate systems comes into play. In the mass combat section, Melee Resolution is described:

“After both players have rolled the number of dice allotted to them for their meleeing troops by the Combat Tables, casualties are removed, and morale for both opponents is checked” (15).

As this is not explicitly amended in the Man-to-Man section, we expect each figure to roll once on the Man-to-Man Melee Table and, if neither hits, we wait for step 6 to come around again.

Under that assumption though, the “first blow” section cited above doesn’t make sense. For it goes on to give conditions to determine who gets the first blow on the first and subsequent rounds of melee. If each side gets only one blow per one-minute round, there would be no “2nd round and thereafter” (25), because each side would roll for initiative, which determines the attacker, at the beginning of the turn.

During the melee resolution step, each unit engaged in mass combat melee gets one throw of the dice,7 while, during the same step, figures in man-to-man melee throw dice until the outcome is decided.

Granularity

Two sides in a mass melee roll attack dice and assess damage simultaneously. High above the battlefield, where one figure represents 20 troops, we don’t see who gets the first blow and who gets the second—nor do we want to. The system simulates tens or hundreds of troops attacking and defending during one minute.

At a 1:1 figure scale, we don’t see the entire field. Hovering just overhead, we see a few individuals close up. The action is more granular. We take it as read, for example, that missile fire in mass combat considers only maximum range, whereas Man-to-Man amends missile fire to give a single archer a better chance to hit targets at short and medium ranges.

Below I enumerate some amendments to the mass combat system that imply, when fighting man-to-man, a combat round of less than one minute. There are others. These are both the most salient and the least ambiguous.

1. Rear and Flank Attacks.

“Men attacked from the rear do not return a blow on the 1st round of melee and automatically receive 2nd blow position on the 2nd round of melee. Men attacked from the left flank automatically receive 2nd blow position on the 1st round of melee” (25).

In mass combat we see attacks from the rear and flanks, but there is no second round. The action is carried to the next turn. In man-to-man, we can see the combatant turning to strike the attacker. In the case of a rear attack, he has to dodge another blow before he can reposte. If he is attacked from the flank, we see that he is right-handed.

2 Parry.

“For any weapon 1 class higher to three classes lower than the attacker the defender may parry the blow…” (25).

Above we saw in which hand he held the weapon, now we can compare its size with his opponent’s weapon. Further, at the 1:1 scale, we see the defender parry an attack. In reality, a parry happens in an instant. It’s so fast, a casual observer might not see it. Movie actors have to exaggerate the gesture to show us a parry on film.

3. Horse vs. Foot.

“When fighting men afoot, mounted men add +1 to their dice for melees and the men afoot must subtract -1… Men may be unhorsed by footmen if they specifically state this is their intent before dice are rolled” (26).

At man-to-man scale, mounted men attack with a weapon class versus an armor class, as do footmen. The difference in their disposition is accounted for by adjustments to their dice rolls. Moreover, any unhorsing is assumed in the mass melee combat tables. At 1:1, we have to state the intention and hope for success.

Conclusion

How much time does it take to turn around? How long to parry a blow or take a swing at a rider? I’m not arguing to set a number of seconds for the man-to-man combat round. My point is that the period is not stipulated and that it must be less time than the one-minute turn.

In Chainmail’s Man-to-Man Combat, a round of melee is like a round of drinks: We don’t know how much time it takes. We only hope to be upright at the end of it.

I conclude that Gygax and Perren do not intend the one-minute round for Man-to-Man Combat. Rather, the entire man-to-man melee is assumed to be resolved in the one-minute turn. The length of the man-to-man round is not specified in Chainmail nor, subsequently, in OD&D.8, 9


Notes

1 For further discussion on the topic of melee resolution in mass combat, see “Melee Rounds per Turn in Chainmail,” on the “Original D&D Discussion” forum.

2 It is rare if ever that we see the term “mass combat” in early wargames rules. When they refer to combat or melee, they speak of clashes between companies, regiments, and brigades. Individual engagements are the exception. Hence the terms “man-to-man” and “individual” melee, which are today disused.

3 I ignore the particular reference to the fantasy rules and assume Fighting Capability is interpreted within the frame of the entire ruleset.

4 It does not escape notice that, around the time Chainmail was being developed, Gygax supported a family of five as a shoe cobbler.

5 Links to Peterson’s articles about subset antecedents on his “Playing at the World” blog. Beware the rabbit hole.

6 To-Hit Rolls in Individual Medieval Combat, from Phil Barker to Chainmail

7 A caveat concerning mass combat melee: Each unit gets one throw of the dice unless, as in the case of the example (15-16), a charge is not halted in the first throw of the dice and the charging unit meets an enemy unit by the end of the charge move. In that case, the charging unit and its opponent get another throw in the same turn. A similar scenario can occur when missile troops refuse combat (15).

In the case, however, where the result of post-melee morale is “melee continues,” I read “melee continues [the next turn].” This, based chiefly on the text of Melee Resolution (15, cited above).

8 Though he stipulates a 10-second combat round, Moldvay reproduces Chainmail’s man-to-man system in a more coherent manner. The significant changes in B/X (1981) are two:

  1. The side with initiative goes through all the steps of the turn sequence before the other.
  2. All actions—melee as well as movement, spells (artillery), and missile fire—take place within the 10-second round. 

9 We don’t forget that Gygax instituted the one-minute combat round in Advanced D&D (Dungeon Master’s Guide, 1979). There, the author stated clearly his intention:

“Combat is divided into 1 minute period melee rounds, or simply rounds, in order to have reasonably manageable combat. ‘Manageable’ applies both to the actions of the combatants and to the actual refereeing of such melees. It would be no great task to devise an elaborate set of rules for highly complex individual combats with rounds of but a few seconds length. It is not in the best interests of an adventure game, however, to delve too deeply into cut and thrust, parry and riposte (61).”

If our own intention is to the contrary—that is, to delve, however deep, “into cut and thrust, parry and riposte,” which is the stuff of fantasy adventure combat since the 1980s, then the argument for “rounds of but a few seconds length” is persuasive.

Two against one, c’mon…
Solon Theros Challenges Minke Meine and Annemie Tacx.
“Two against one, c’mon…”

Ground and Figure Scale, Formations, Troop Ratio and Types

“The ratio of figures to men assumed is 1:20, the ground scale is 1″:10 yards, and one turn of play is roughly equivalent to one minute of time in battle. The troop ratio will hold true for 30mm figures, but if a smaller scale is used it should be reduced to 1:10” (Chainmail, 8).

Figure Scale

In the 2000s, I collected an embarrassing number of plastic fantasy figurines. Inexpensive and pre-painted, D&D Miniatures are 30mm scale. Perfect. Except they are mounted on a circular base. A man-sized model takes up a one-inch-diameter space, which fits in the five-foot square occupied by the character on a twenty-first century battle grid.

Wargame miniatures often have rectangular bases, which correspond to the breadth and depth of the unit represented. Transposing its one-inch base to the battlefield, my man-sized figurine represents 20 men milling about in a hundred square yards.

A wave of the hand seems an easy solution. I respect the breadth but ignore the figure’s depth. The 20 men are in formation at the front edge of the space occupied by the figure. In the case where multiple figures make two or more ranks, all troops represented are in ranks, one behind the other, irrespective of the scaled depth.

Archers in Two Ranks
Archers in Two Ranks.
Each figurine represents a number of troops in a rank across the leading edge of the front rank of figures.

Using the larger scale without also using smaller figurines impacts play in two other ways. One, areas of effect, while scaled accordingly, more frequently touch a larger base. A near miss on Gygax’s table is a hit on my table. Two, shorter distances present less spectacle. A giant hurling a rock 20 inches downrange on an eight-foot table looks the same as the scaled ten-inch throw compared to my four-foot table. But, as the giant in both cases is three inches tall, the shorter throw appears less impressive.

To compensate for the former, I might use a longer “variation measure” (Chainmail, 13) for field guns and giant throws. I’m not sure, though, that this won’t have some other unintended impact.

Ground Scale

“The playing area that the battles are fought out upon should be a table rather than the floor. It can be from a minimum of 4′ to a maximum of 7′ wide, and it should be at least 8′ in length” (Chainmail, 5).

Gygax was famous for hosting wargames on a large sand table in his basement. The largest table I have—upon which I must also dine—measures 31″ × 47″. I could run small engagements in the scaled 310-by-470 yards, but Light Horse charge across it in a single turn, and a figure anywhere on the table is a target for Longbowmen stationed in the center.

I stretch the table by doubling the ground scale. At 20 yards to the inch, the battlefield is 620 yards by almost a thousand. It’s similar to playing on a five-by-eight-foot table. But not quite. The figurines remain the same size, so they effectively take up four times the space on my battlefield than they would on Gygax’s basement table. On my table, commanders lack the same room for maneuver.

Figure-to-Troop Ratio

Because a one-inch base now stretches across 20 yards, I up the figure scale as well. At the corresponding figure scale, I could field armies the same size as Gygax, but 1:80 sounds unreasonable.

To approach the calculation another way, I count men in one rank at Bath’s “very close order” (Ancient Wargaming, 20).1 In the closest formation, each man occupies only 18 inches.

At 18″ per, 40 fighters fit in one rank 60 feet (20 yards) wide. Therefore, at 1:40, a rank of figures, bases touching, are in very close order. As per Chainmail, figures up to 1″ apart are in close order, and any farther is open order.2

Scale for the Valormr Campaign

Ground Scale: 1″ to 20 yards*
Figure Scale: 1:40
Time Scale: 1 minute per turn

* To convert, all distances given in Chainmail are halved.

Formations
Formations.
Left to right: a lone figure represents 40 troops in one rank at close order unless otherwise stated; 120 Heavy Spears, one rank, very close order; two ranks of 80 each Armored Foot, close order; two ranks3 of 160 Armored Spears, the first presents a shield wall, very close order.

Troop Types

According to Bath, light foot “wear no armor of any description, either leather or metal. They may carry a light shield and are usually but not always armed with missile weapons” (16). Gygax & Perren imply as much in the missile fire table (Chainmail, 11), where targets are categorized as unarmored, half-armor [another word for Heavy or Medium (Bath, 16)] or shield, and fully armored.

Since most any combat-capable characters in D&D wear some sort of armor, it is the rare figurine in my collection which could be considered Light Foot. I, therefore, adjudicate by case, according to my needs, whether to class a lightly-armored figure as Light or Heavy.

Furthermore, there is a dearth of mounted figures in the D&D Miniatures line. Again, I take the liberty to call any figure mounted, thus turning Foot into Horse as desired.

Light Foot and Peasants
Light Foot and Peasants.
In Champions of Chaos, these figures wearing leather armor (foreground) are classed as Light Foot. They stand in open order. Others (background) are peasants in milling-about formation.

My reading of Chainmail gives Light Foot a sore disadvantage. They move and charge at the same rate as Heavy Foot, get no more attack dice than an equal number of points of Heavy Foot, and suffer weak morale. I suspect this is by design, being historically—and logically—accurate. In historical wargames, as in early fantasy games, a force adhered to percentages of troop types. We see such orders of battle in Bath’s Hyboria, Arneson’s Blackmoor (First Fantasy Campaign), and as recently as the AD&D Monster Manual. I assume a player bought only as many Light Foot as the order of battle required. Though anachronistic, the cliché is apt—cannon fodder.

I haven’t yet worked out the orders of battle for the Valormr Campaign. These Light Foot are a nod in that direction, as are the peasants, who Solon Theros herded from the countryside to fill the ranks.


Notes

1 Bath seems to have invented the term “very close order” to differentiate from close order. Historically, close order is less strictly defined, meaning troops spaced anywhere from 18″ to 36″ apart. Gygax and Perren make no mention of “very close order.” Chainmail gives advantages to pole arms formed in close order, given as figures “1″ or less apart” (Chainmail, 40).

2 Chainmail makes no distinction of, nor has rules for, extended order. We’ll leave it at that for now.

3 Chainmail allows only a formation’s first rank of figures to engage in melee. I am not sure why that is. In the historical phalanx, men armed with spears could engage targets from the second rank and with pikes (up to 20′ long) from as far back as the fifth rank. Maybe Gygax and Perren assume each figure is in multiple ranks, but then the figure’s width cannot accurately depict the formation’s breadth.

Setting Up a Wargames Campaign

I came only recently to Tony Bath. I’d heard vague stories about a game in the misty past set in Conan’s world. Details were murky and scarce. It wasn’t clear if it was D&D or something else, and I couldn’t sort out how the game related to the archetypal barbarian.

In early 2011, while browsing the Hill Cantons, I discovered a four-part series about Bath’s Hyboria wargames campaign (December 2010). Author Chris Kutalik had got hold of a copy of Setting Up a Wargames Campaign by the legendary English wargamer. Kutalik doesn’t so much review the book as proselytize. That day I became an acolyte.

Today, we take for granted the campaign. For modern role-playing gamers, a single adventure is called a “one-shot,” and while the form has its merits, it lacks the scope, continuity, and satisfaction a campaign provides.

The Society of Ancients

Tony Bath founded the Society of Ancients and its journal Slingshot in 1965. Now in its 56th year, the society continues to thrive. It has an active members-only online forum, hosts an annual Battle Day, and still produces Slingshot bi-monthly in full color.

So it was, too, with wargamers in the 1960s. Pushing lead figures across a tabletop gets stale after a number of unrelated battles. The context, coming from historical accounts, is inflexible. The setup and tactics, again historical, are sometimes limited. Battles often ended in a slug-fest, there being no reason a general might conserve troops for the morrow.

Veering from the strictly historical wargame, campaigners step back from the table and consider the larger theater of operations. On large-scale maps showing rivers instead of streams, mountains instead of hilltops, countries instead of towns, opposing generals exercise strategy instead of tactics. They march armies, represented by pins, across the map, each general in secret from the other, until forces meet.

In the ensuing battle, the context, setup, and tactics are all determined by the preceding events and the terrain upon which the two forces find each other. Troops must be used effectively or be withdrawn to fight another day. This is the stuff of the campaign.

In Bath’s Hyboria, King Arthur and his knights waged war on Conan’s Cimmerian hordes.

In those years, Tony Bath devised the quintessential wargames campaign. But he went further, for he set the campaign in a fictitious world. He lifted the map from the end papers of a Robert Howard novel. He cribbed also the setting’s name, and so Hyboria came again to life in the second half of the twentieth century. Bath borrowed real-world cultures, both ancient and medieval, to populate the continent with peoples, whence armies were drawn.

In Bath’s Hyboria, King Arthur and his knights waged war on Conan’s Cimmerian hordes. Carthaginians struggled against Viking raiders. Picts crossed swords with Persians. Aquilonians, allied with Argives and Nemedians, laid siege to a Turanian town occupied by Hyrkanians.

Tony Bath’s Ancient Wargaming including Setting Up a Wargames Campaign

That was only the beginning. Bath describes the process and much more in amicable prose. Setting Up a Wargames Campaign was published in 1973 by Wargames Research Group. It had a second edition (1977) and a revised third edition in 1986. Copies now circulate on various reseller sites for not extraordinary prices. At the time, though, I couldn’t find any such copy.

Instead, I found a reproduction. As part of his History of Wargaming Project, John Curry, with the Society of Ancients, published Tony Bath’s Ancient Wargaming (2009, 2011), which is a reprint collection of three previously published books:

  • Peltast and Pila Ancient Wargaming Rules (Tabletop Warfare, 1976)
  • Setting Up a Wargames Campaign (WRG, 1973)
  • The Legend of Hyboria (Society of Ancients, 2005)

In setting up the Valormr Campaign, I’m using Wargames Campaign’s first three chapters, in which Bath describes the basics:

  • How to Set Up Your Campaign
  • Map Movement
  • Contacts, Battles and After Effects

I’m sure to make use of later chapters in subsequent campaigns. Furthermore, the ancient wargame rules Peltast and Pila will serve in campaigns taking place earlier in the DONJON LANDS time line.

The Valormr Campaign

Who says B/X’s 40th anniversary says Chainmail’s 50th. Before there was “the game that started it all,” there was the game that started that. Initiated by wargamer Jeff Perren and further elaborated by Gary Gygax, iterations of the rules for medieval miniatures wargames were published in zines as early as 1970.

Just prior to its 1971 publication by Guidon Games, Gygax added 14 pages of rules inspired by fantasy fiction. The “Fantasy Supplement” opened the gates on tabletop battles with wizards and heroes, elves, trolls, giants, and other fantastic and mythical creatures, including dragons. Chainmail was the steel with which Dave Arneson struck Wesely’s Braunstein flint. The spark was Blackmoor, and it ignited the flame that became DUNGEONS & DRAGONS.

“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.”

—from “Empire of the Undersun

The Valormr Campaign using Chainmail
The Valormr Campaign plays out events leading to the battle and the battle itself, using Chainmail: rules for medieval miniatures by Gary Gygax and Jeff Perren (3rd Edition, Lake Geneva, WI: Tactical Studies Rules, 1975).

Notes

For the history of D&D, see Playing at the World (Jon Peterson, San Diego: Unreason, 2012) and Designers & Dragons: The ’70s (Shannon Appelcline, Silver Springs, MD: Evil Hat, 2013).

Download Flying Tables

Preparing to use them at the table, I compiled the three Flying Tables into a PDF. Each table—by the Bluebook, for Basic and Lower Dungeons, and for Caves and Caverns—fits on its own 5½″ × 8½″ page.

For hard copy, print two pages per sheet on both sides. Then fold the page with the desired tables on the outside. A footer contains links to the Contents and to each Flying Table for quick on-screen navigation. I also made a smaller version at 2¼″ × 4″ for the small screen.

Download

Also available on the Downloads page.

Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Phone Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Print
Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Phone and Print.