Boneswords Go Hunting: Empire of the Dead Battle Report

We started our Empire of the Dead campaign (again) last Friday.

After a few false starts, delayed from the convention, tweak & re-tweak the campaign system, but now it's set. A pretty simple concept: 150 point teams with an additional 50 points that can be used for skill/stat increases (max one roll per individual) or any of those extra points can be used as normal.
If in the campaign you play an opponent who isn't within 50 points of your own rating, then the larger value force reduces points until within the 50 pt range (leave a guy watching the home-base, leave some expensive weapons, whatever the player wishes, just for that battle) This will allow people who play less often or have some bad luck, or want to run many factions (and so won't see one team advance fast) a more even match when they play: good for everyone.

We decided to get everyone present in on the same game: a big 3 vrs 3.
Mostly Good vrs Evil, with any extras or neutrals fitting in where they are needed.
Other than slaughter our rivals we also have many statues to check for precious artifacts.

Since the Boneswords' background clearly marks them as 'good' I was on the side with a Holy Order and some Good Chaps.
Against us was a neutral to bad leaning Gentlemen's club, mostly all in black, so I'll call them the Somber Society, as well as a corrupt Fireman's Union (I think they take a page from Crassus' book: hello sir, looks like your house is on fire, would you like to hire us to put it out?') and a Chinese Opium  Importer's sword-wielding muscle. 

The Boneswords approach the city center, ready for battle.  I've gone for numbers and lots of swords.

My conceptual rival, the Opium pushers of the Green Dragon Den, also a Zendarin faction, just like mine, but with more messy meat on their bones.  Disgusting.

But before we can get to them, across from us is the Somber Society, and they have a lot of guns, so the brave bones sneak through the back of a building, while checking one of the mysterious statues.

First statue checked so needed a 9 on a d10: nope. We break down the doors and take the house.

My ally to my left, the Holy Order of the Sisters of Ruler-smacking have no luck with their statues either: early birds find nothing.

My ally to the right covers ground to try to get vantage to shoot -some take to the upper story windows.

The Green Dragons divide their number: some look for a statue in the right corner building...

While others enter the large Mill's courtyard directly across from my Boneswords

Meanwhile, the Somber Society enters the same courtyard from the other side of the building, in single-file murmuring a depressing dirge. 

The eccentric hired-gun of the Fire Brigade, Nolan Fifthmain, pauses to relieve himself in the bushes.
"These are now my bushes" he says.  Some say he was raised by wolves. They might be right.

Hefting their axes, the Fire Brigade moves across the street, looking for statues and rich houses to 'discover' they are on fire. 

The Somber Society advances further, preparing to take aim at the noble Boneswords should they arrive.

Around the same building comes the Somber Society's secret weapon: an armored spirit-cannon weilder

Though taking some fire, the Boneswords make it out of their building and across the street to the mill.

They take position on either side, and prepare to rush in. 

One of the 'Swords is knocked down, but in the rush, two Green Dragons are brought low: out of action.

Meanwhile, Nolan Fifthmain advances to the next planter: "ahhh..these are mine too".

The Somber Society takes on the Boneswords, bringing them into their dreary world.

A solid clash ensues for several rounds. And though all the Bonesword characters are wounded, with them still on their feet, eventually the Sombers are reduced in number to the point the rest flee.

The Fish out of Water took a parting shot at a Bonesword knight, to no effect.

A brave Green Dragon held out against two Bonesord knights for most of the night before finally being brought down- which was the last straw for them: the rest retreated. 

A narrow victory for our side, with 2 out of 3 of the enemy retreating and 1 out of 3 of ours retreating. 

Take Away: I think we need a new system for 'discovery objects'.  we had the first item searched needing a 9+, with each next at a +1.  But since one side searched three before the other searched, this made it a lot easier for one side to find something.  On the one hand, you don't want nothing found -which poor odds that never change could see happen, but on the other, you don't want shenanigans of 'wait to search until they do' (which didn't happen, to be clear, but it could) which is gamey and also makes no real sense. Solution? Don't know yet. could mark some ahead of time and place them randomly. 

We're playing again tomorrow night (actually tonight as I post this) and not sure which faction I'll play yet. 

I do enjoy the Boneswords, but it is quite a challenge having nothing to shoot!  Just run and hope. 

The Bone-swords: Skeletal Zendarian for Empire of the Dead

It probably doesn't come as a shock to know I love to start new projects, which is one reason I love skirmish games: it's not too hard to make a new project!

One of the more recent new projects is a new faction team for Empire of the Dead, which we've been playing on Fridays.  I had some skeleton miniatures I liked quite a bit, and was looking for an excuse to field them.  I have Greystoke's Apes (a 'Lycan' faction) and a Nosferatu faction (as yet they haven't had an update here, but they will) so I thought I'd use skeletons for a re-skinning (or de-skinning rather) of a human faction. The obvious choice would be to run them as 'Holy Order' but do an 'un-holy order', but looking at the rules it didn't really fit with how I'd like them -and I have another idea for a Holy Order faction anyway...
the next obvious choice would be Darkfire Club: the evil humans, who use dark magic and can summon zombies. But I dismissed that right away: I want Skeletons, not Zombies.

I love Ray Harryhausen's work, and I saw Jason and the Argonauts when I was a kid-it creeped me out!

Ever since I have loved skeletons, but -this might be as shocking as when I told my rural North Carolina relatives that I am not Christian -of any variety- but Zombies don't really do anything for me.

I know zombies are the new hotness and are likely to remain so- they seem to be everywhere and as popular as orgasmic cell phones might be if they existed (I'm sure they're working on them).  But meh.  I like Walking Dead, and zombie movies are fun, but they don't sing to my soul as it were.

But Skeletons are so cool.  They are like jazz-cool.

When I first started painting minis a lot of what I liked was already taken: one friend had orcs, another had undead, so now I wanted to make an all-skeleton faction.

So I chose Zendarian.  This is the faction that has a military tradition. They get a bonus to combat, weakness to magic and are better at sword fighting: they have a better chance to riposte (get to attack if opponent gets a successful attack on them).  Perfect!  These Harryhausen skeletons are ingrained in my mind fighting in close armed combat, swords clinking.  Vulnerable to magic? OK, they are skeletons afterall, some magic binds their bones and helps animate them, that would be a vulnerability.

And so I went off on writing their background. If you missed it, which turned into a short story, it starts here.

So on to their pictures...

The President. In game terms he starts with two swords (one on the model, but he's just that good & fast with it!) and a 'Pocket Periscope' which lets him see around corners, so can charge from hidden position.. explained as a supernatural sight- which he must have, he has no eyeballs!

The first Vice President, armed as the president. 

The 2nd V.P.  Same kit as the other two.  

Some members. Start with just a sword, but over time will upgrade to count as 2 swords.

I went for a heavy rust,since I like the effect with skeletons.  The color scheme is kept simple.

I really like these Skeletons from Nemesis. The skulls have a 'nightmare before christmas' touch to them, and I like the angled awkward poses. Unfortunately, to get the numbers I needed 3 sets, so some duplicates are unavoidable, I gave the open-jaw ones different angles to how they hold their swords, but the last pose here has the most variety. Stock is the one on the left, where he's swung his sword so wide he's pulled his arm off!   Fun, but not something I wanted three of, so I converted the other two, for a raised sword and a low upper cutting two handed swing. 

Here is the starting faction: Pres, 2x VP & 5 members:

I should also have no problem using these for a variety of fantasy skirmish gaming, since you can always use skeletons! 

Death Walks the Streets of London 1888: Conclusion of Their Tale

So, you might ask, if the Knights Reliquar were successful in their quest in 1573 in Istanbul and secured the Holy Grail, how would this bring an end to their order and how is it related to the dead knights who hunt our streets?  And well too you might ask who was the woman guarding the grail and what did her curse mean?  Who she was I will leave to your own pondering, for I have my own but I will not voice it.  The other matters are more clear...

Upon returning to the West, Sir William had no intention of returning to Charles IX, nor even revealing their success. He did not trust the French King, any more than he had trusted the Turks, with the most important relic in the world.  Who could he trust?  Certainly not the Pope... Queen Elizabeth?  Though he owed much to his sovereign, as Knight Commander of his order, his loyalty must remain free from any one monarch, for were not members of the Knights Reliquar also from the Grand Dutchy, Norway, Spain, Florence.. which to give such strength?  Just look what the Medici had done to Protestants the previous year... with beliefs divided even within his order he could not favor one over the other.

It was decided they would take the precious relic to William's estate in Devon, and try to determine how it might be used. The Knights discussed, meditated, and kept their secret. Charles IX railed at their failure and what little respect their order still commanded dwindled further. Over the years, Tavas, effectively the second in command of the order took a wife, Josephine of Crecy, a cousin of William.  She added much to their understanding of the relic, once admitted into the trusted circle of those who know.  It was her belief that it could bind a group by spirit and will, those who in ritual shared the cup. And so the thirteen of them, the 12 knights and lady, became bound.

Their first true test of their power came over ten years later. On hearing the warnings of the Armada, sent by Spain to invade England, they traveled with the Grail to Portland and from there watched some of the first battles.  Under Josephine's direction, the knights concentrated upon the enemy fleet, willing their destruction, with vivid images of the red-crossed ships sinking.  From then, when they gazed at the ships they saw them in dark haze, as a storm appears on the horizon.  The fact that bad luck flagged these ships as they sailed around their islands, with nearly all sinking in tossed storms did not surprise them, but it did weigh heavy on William.

Had they misused the power? Tavas argued that it was theirs to use, "For if the power is God's," he stressed, "then we could not use it thus unless it was God's will that we do." His logic was hard to refute.

Ten years more passed by, when one night as William was in the library, hearing a woman's step behind him, as he turned expecting to find Josephine, he was instead looking at another, younger, darker woman.  She looked familiar, though who she was and how she got into his home he could not guess.  Before he could ask, she slid along the back of his chair, tracing the fine fabric with a delicate finger.

"How do you find the spoils of your war, Knight?" She asked, with a wry smile he recognized.

But, how?  She had not aged a day since that moment in the vault below Hagia Sophia.

"And of my other gift?  How grows the gift of your wisdom?" She looked at him, deeply.  He felt  genuine unease.   "Still a seed I see. Well, it has not had much time, but it will.  Of that at least there is no doubt: time you have in abundance."

He began to speak, but she held him with a look.

"I have come for my possession, you have held it from me long enough.  Do not bother to call for your knights, it will avail you not.  In a small way I do pity you, do you know?  No. Probably you do not, can not, understand yet.  But I do.  Make the most of the few years ahead Knight, they are precious to you in a way that none after ever will be.  These memories will sustain you, even as they pain you.  Goodbye."

He drew breath to round on her, but she was gone. The room was colder, the fire significantly smaller than it had been a moment before.  He ran to the room where they kept the Grail, but it was gone.  He knew it would be fruitless to ask the others, but he called for them anyway.

Years passed and the Knights and Lady grew older.  Any miraculous power they once had was gone, but the ties and connection they felt never diminished regardless of distance.  Tavas and Josphine bore no children in all these years.  The first sign that there was a deep price they all were paying was when Hue of Gaston died in the battles of Brittany in 1598. Months after word of his death arrived, Hue himself arrived in Devon.

That he was dead there was no doubt.  Cold to the touch, with no breath or beat of heart, grey, drying skin.
He could talk after a fashion, though more than this, the others simply felt what he wished to say.  A deep sadness, a restlessness devoid of energy. And strongest of all, a regret when he thought of them.  They debated what to do. They could not bury him, for it was too cruel, with his spirit and mind still alive.  To call for a priest they could trust?  Who?  Word would surely get out, and even under Elizabeth's permissive rule, such an abomination would surely bring about a reaction one might expect by the Inquisition.  No, they would keep the secret, keep him safe, wait for his trapped spirit to find it's own way free to the maker.

But it did not, and not long after others of their number followed.  What would they do when all of their order was this way?  Could they keep on the estate, when none yet remained warm and alive?  They did for a time, but as the flesh fell away from their bones, as decades wore on, there came a day when the Devon estate was empty.

Down the centuries, there have been tales of sightings of death himself, of a white skull , with eyeless sockets penetrating one's soul and chilling the blood.  Fancies most would say, but three hundred years later, here in London, we know it to be true.  These Bone-swords are one in the same.  Sir William, Tavas and his bride, the Knights Reliquar who have themselves become relics: walking bones, with all the deadly art that wielding a blade for over three hundred years will bring.

What's that?  And so why are they so bold now in London?  Aye, it's true that some have seen a fancy Lord and Lady some nights, though on closer look, perhaps a young cut-purse gets more of a shock than a sudden flash of a cane sword, for it's held in a bony hand and death's grin itself resides under a top-hat... but it is queer times, with men who change into wolves, and the Vampyr hunting the knight.  It is a new age we live in, and perhaps the glimpse of skeletal men are not now so strange as to bring an entire city to bear against them.

Do they walk brazenly now to join the hunt, or to protect us?  Only time will tell, but take my advice, either way, you are safer to stay well clear of them, if you catch sight of them.

                       William                                           Tavas                                             Josephine

Death Walks the Streets of London, 1888: Origin of the Bone-swords continued.

Continuing from before, The Knights Reliquar were in a slow decline as time went on, and their last half century was the darkest.  In the mid sixteenth century, the thirteen brother knights were from far flung lands: from England to Lithuania, Norway to Naples.  But a storm was rising in Europe that would be felt in all lands.  Religious authority had never been as absolute and secure as the desired impression, but never had there been such chaos in Christendom as since before the council of Nicaea.  Martin Luther had launched an official challenge to Mother Church, Henry VIII separated himself and his country from the church and was excommunicated, and new sects of protestants were appearing and gaining ground in many countries.

The Knight Commander of the Knights Reliquar, William of Devon, was confident that the Religious divide which plagued Europe, even breaking out into open religious wars, would not affect the members of the Knights Reliquar, despite their various homes and personal feelings about the new issues much debated, but he had larger goals: he wished to find a way to unite Europe and possibly the world.  And he had a plan.

In March of 1573 William met with Charles IX of France, seeking funding for his expedition.  Charles IX's reign had been devastated by these religious issues, and he was willing to take a chance on William's indirect, forlorn hope.  William's plan was to mount a silent invasion of the lands of the Turks, to reclaim the most sought Holy Relic of all: The Holy Grail.  The histories of the Knights Reliquar indicated that the Grail resided in Constantinople, had survived the sack by the First Crusade, eluded the Venician pillagers and was behind the advancing power of the Ottoman Empire. With this relic he could reunite Europe, re-instill peace and regain Constantinople in one quest. Surely God must be on their side?

All that remained was for thirteen knights to enter the seat of power of arguably the strongest nation in Europe, reclaim the most holy of relics, and return with it alive.

In the garb of Pilgrims, the Reliquar Knights traveled to the city now known as Istanbul. Their full tale is long, fraught with battles, narrow escapes and daring, but none now know the full details, for the Muslims will deny any of this and the knights themselves... well, if you meet them now, perhaps you may be brave enough to ask them, but not I.

I do know that it was not without blood spilt that they made their way to the most secret of rooms, lit by a single candle, where on a marble pedestal rested the Grail.

The Knights gave thanks and took a cloth to grasp the cup when a woman's voice spoke softly from behind them,

"And by what right do you steal this vessel?"

Tavas of Polotsk spoke brashly, "We have the right as chosen by God for this quest, by right to set the world right.  What right do you have to keep and twist the power of this artifact?"

The woman, of curiously indeterminate age, dark of hair, eye and complexion, smiled wryly, "Why, because this is my chalice, given to me long ago, by one you claim to love, but do not understand. It sustains me, it is all I have left of the one I have lost."

William spoke next, growing conscious of the time and the danger they faced, "We have no quarrel with you woman, I fear you are likely mad, but for all that, I would wish you no harm."

To this, she laughed, a disquieting sound, convincing the knights of their commander's assessment.

"I tell you this knight," She began, "that your quest was doomed to failure from the start.  Nations of men will never be united, will never seek peace, for the majority will take these gifts and throw them to the ground as so much refuse to be disdained.  You would understand if you had seen what I have seen through the years. Prophets come and go, laws and beliefs break like the tides and all aspirations of man are washed away."

"Enough of this" snapped Tavas, "We have the Grail, our quest is but complete, we leave now."

"I will not stop you." She said, with a hint of sadness. "But though you have not asked for it,  I give you the gift you should have come for: wisdom.  You will see what I have seen, you will continue, you will come to understand, though you may never thank me for it."

Collecting the Grail, the Knights made to leave.

"You so love your relics, you put such faith in their power... you shall become as the relic bones themselves.  Go, and see what good comes of it."

Of what happened to the Grail, none know.  Of what happened to the Knights, we shall soon tell.

On to Part III ...

Death Walks the Streets of London, 1888: Introduction to the Bone-swords

Like heartbeats, the dull, hollow knocking of old metal on stone reverberates down the winding foggy night street. Shutters hastily snap and doors are barred as death approaches.

Why have they come? There are as many answers to this as there are those who are brave enough to risk uttering a guess. In hushed voices around common room fires some talk of it this same night. Some even claim to have seen the warriors, those with the faces of bone.  But they are all wrong.  None of them know the true tale of the Knights of Death, those who were once men but are no longer: the Bone-swords.

But if you wish to know it, and can brave the telling, I will tell it to you.

It begins in an age now past, when Richard the Lionheart made Crusade in the Holy Land.  Most know of the grand orders of monastic knights: the Tutonics, Templars and Hospitalers, but there were others.  One such was few in numbers and without power or influence for their vow was one of complete self sacrifice and service.  True also is that the requirement of faith and purity was so severe that it was a rare knight who risked his soul to seek to join, for this order was the Knights Reliquar, tasked with finding, securing and protecting the holy relics of the Holy Land.  But unlike the monks who kept such relics safe, entombed within reliquaries to protect the faithful, for even they could not be unharmed by too close of exposure to such mighty artifacts, the Knights Reliquar each had within the hilt of his sword the bone of a martyred saint. Only the most devout and pure could wield such power and remained unharmed.  This precluded the majority of Knights.

The Knights Reliquar numbered just one score and six, but they were mighty.  It was said that with just a few of these knights, the most dire battle could be won.  And this was true.  It was the desire of the Knight Commander, Sir Mikkel of Jutland, to find and protect these relics, but the endless slaughter and acts of abomination he witnessed, and indeed had been asked to commit, caused him, with much regret, to remove his forces from the Crusade and return to Europe.

King Richard of England blamed the loss of Jerusalem on the betrayal of the Knights Reliquar, and the new Pope threatened excommunication upon Mikkel and his Knights.  They were not excommunicated however, though they lost much of the good name and notoriety they had before.

The Knights Reliquar continued to exist down the centuries, taking part in battles when they felt they were just, though their numbers declined until it was decided they would have no more than half at the time of their schism: thirteen.

This continued until the Knights Reliquar was disbanded in 1573 after matters in Istanbul.
How does this bring us to today, 1888 and the streets of London?
For that tale, we must wait until another night.

For now, be on your guard, for the Bone-swords walk the streets.

On to Part II ...