I have finally begun my Leopard Campaign, inspired by the Portable Wargames Compendium and played—somewhat madly—on a modified Snakes and Ladders board. Traditionally the system is used for competitive two-player campaigns, but with a few small tweaks it works beautifully for solo play. The board generates narrative “fortune” events and strategic setbacks—perfect for civil-war skulduggery.
Some information on the background to the campaign can be found here.
Orders from Plymouth
A favourable die roll landed him on a fortune square, giving him the option to delay departure and acquire aid. Rather than press his advantage and out-move the Parliamentarian patrols, the Leopard opted to recruit Joseph Widecombe, a Level-1 scout with an uncanny knack for avoiding trouble… or at least postponing it.
Marching Through the Mud
The ride to Emmington was quiet. Warm westerlies rolled in, softening the March weather but drenching the countryside with heavy rainfall. After several days of slow riding, the Leopard and his troop sighted the manor below—a charred ruin nestled in a muddy valley, its fields ruined and livestock long gone.
Dismounting, they advanced on foot. The yard was clogged with debris from the fire, and the thick mud made staying mounted a hazard. Muskets loaded, eyes sharp, the Leopard spotted shadowy figures edging through the distant fields.
The plan was simple: get in, get the papers, get out. Yet plans involving human beings seldom survive first contact. Isaac—still suffering from the previous night’s ale—slipped face-first into the mud, punctuating his fall with an enormous fart. The rest of the troop weren’t much better; every step was swallowed by the mud.
Issac, take the ‘hair of the dog’ before the battle
Closing Net of the Militia
Despite the mire, the Royalists reached the manor just as the local Parliamentarian militia—led by the Hon. Samuel Massey—began closing in. Fallen beams and half-collapsed walls turned the interior into perilous terrain.
The Leopard crept into the manor itself, while his loyal companion Edgar, formerly a cryptographer and now his most dependable retainer, searched the outbuildings.
Extract from Edgar’s Diary — 3 March 1643
“Mistress Fortune favours fools and Clements alike. The yard is a bog, the house a tomb, and Isaac a menace to nose and nerve. I searched the barn first—old habits die hard; one always checks the margins. There, amid wet ash and pig-sties, I found a loose plank concealing a rusted casket. My heart leapt. But I heard shots then, close. The militia were upon us. I fear today will be an ugly day, and the papers we seek may be the least of our concerns.”
Shots in the Yard
Musketry erupted as the militia loosed a ragged volley. The Royalists returned fire with surprising discipline, scattering some of the greener conscripts. Tougher resistance came from the militia advancing through the fields—though here the mud proved to be an ally for both sides, slowing movement and blunting charges.Inside the manor, the Leopard strained to free a heavy beam pinning an old chest. After a tense struggle, he succeeded, tearing free the bundle of documents. Objective complete… or so it seemed.
Ambush at the Rear
The militia attack was only a distraction. Their leader, Samuel Massey, and a small group had circled behind the manor, cutting off the Royalist escape route. Widecombe was struck down almost immediately in the Parliamentary counterattack. Young Billy, seeking safety over valour, fell back to help hold the yard.
Only Maarten, the Leopard’s old comrade-in-arms, remained to block the surprise attack. He met the militia leader in a fierce sword-lock. Though evenly matched at first, Maarten slowly began to press the advantage—each blow struck with decades of battlefield experience.
Across the fields, Isaac—alcoholic haze finally lifted—managed to wound one of Coombs’s men. The skirmish devolved into a muddy melee, halberd against musket butt. Yet numbers now favoured the Royalists.
Fate delivered the final blow: Sergeant Coombs slipped in the mud, striking his head against a wall and collapsing senseless. With their leader down, the remaining militia broke.
With the papers secured and the militia in disarray, the Leopard rallied his troop. Despite the mud, the confusion, the flatulent mishaps, and the ambush, the Royalists fought through and escaped toward their own lines.
Only Maarten, the Leopard’s old comrade-in-arms, remained to block the surprise attack. He met the militia leader in a fierce sword-lock. Though evenly matched at first, Maarten slowly began to press the advantage—each blow struck with decades of battlefield experience.
Across the fields, Isaac—alcoholic haze finally lifted—managed to wound one of Coombs’s men. The skirmish devolved into a muddy melee, halberd against musket butt. Yet numbers now favoured the Royalists.
Fate delivered the final blow: Sergeant Coombs slipped in the mud, striking his head against a wall and collapsing senseless. With their leader down, the remaining militia broke.
The Royalists Escape
With the papers secured and the militia in disarray, the Leopard rallied his troop. Despite the mud, the confusion, the flatulent mishaps, and the ambush, the Royalists fought through and escaped toward their own lines.
A strong start to the campaign—though danger came far closer than the Leopard had hoped. A couple of extra “turn cards” let the Parliamentarians tighten the noose, and despite the campaign rule limiting shooting while moving, the skirmish saw far more musketry than expected.
But in the end, the Leopard’s superior blades—and superior
