A Review of Imperial Assault - the Skirmish Game

If you've ever imagined what the opening scene of A New Hope would have been like if Darth Vader had boarded the Tantive IV ahead of the Storm Troopers, then Imperial Assault is the game for you.

And so, after writing a series of posts about the miniatures of Star Wars: Imperial Assault, it's time to take a look at game itself, and how the rules stack up against some of its competitors both ancient (Rogue Trader, Spacehulk) and modern (Saga, Bolt Action). 

Imperial Assault is interesting in that it can be played in a campaign mode (in which 2 opposing players play through a scripted set of encounters with ever-improving characters); and in a skirmish mode (in which 2 opposing players play a one-off battle against each other using custom built armies). After playing both the campaign and the skirmishs, I've found that the skirmish mode is much more fun, so that's what I'll focus on for this review.

The Imperial Medical Bay Tile

Since the battlefield is constructed out of a set of tiles (rather than a large, free-standing table top), the set-up is quick and doesn't occupy a lot of space. In this sense, the game is like Space Hulk, rather than Warhammer 40K. It helps that the tiles are so detailed, featuring artwork that's very evocative of the Star Wars Universe (much thanks to illustrator Henning Ludvigsen). The tiles also have an important influence on the game-play: they frame a compact battlefield, leading to games where violence and drama start right away.

Customization is another element of Imperial Assault that I enjoy. You build your army by assembling miniatures (whose point cost and abilities are set out on illustrated "activation cards") -- and then you build a second deck of special abilities (called "command cards") that you will get to play against your opponent throughout the game. Such cards might let you heal, hide or activate a character's special powers. The synergies are endless. Yet it's an easy system without book-keeping or army lists. Altogether this system furnishes great scope for new strategies and to experimentation.

This customization gets at the heart of something that Fantasy Flight Games has made into an art form: creating a dead simple rule set, but adding thematic flavour and strategic complexity through cards, which bend or enhance the rules. So, for instance, all characters are capable of dealing critical hits (called "surges") but each character's surges have different effects -- and these effects are all set out clearly on their cards. This system adds depth without complexity. (The army lists of Bolt Action or the battle boards of Saga are other ways giving your army unique abilities, but I find that these mechanics can get convoluted and tie the players down to a rule book).

But my favourite thing about imperial Assault (besides STAR WARS) is the way they handle luck. Many (most?) skirmish games depend on a 6 sided dice (something that goes right back to Rogue Trader). The main advantages of 6 sided dice are that they're simple and everyone has some. But there are problems: the d6 creates a highly random system (since there is no curve, as you would get with rolling two 6-sided dice for a total between 2-12). Plus, even the smallest modifier (+1 or -1) changes the odds a great deal. The result is a game without much nuance, and where the players are dependent on luck to kill or preserve the most important models on the table.

Imperial Assault breaks out of this paradigm by using a simple solution: customized dice. The game features a variety of differently coloured 6-sided dice to determine attacks, each with its own combination of pips representing attack strength, range and critical hits. The pips are distributed in a way that softens the naked randomness of a roll between 1 and 6 (for instance, no attack die has a blank face, and no die has a face with more than three pips on it). As a result, while luck certainly plays a roll in the skirmish game, most attacks deal a fairly predictable amount of damage, giving the players more scope to focus on strategy and card-play.

What are the drawbacks to Imperial Assault? Well, certainly cost is one. The game itself is expensive ($99 USD), and the additional miniature packs are not cheap either, especially considering that the figures are neither resin nor metal. Also, the range of miniatures is limited. To date, there are only 22 different miniatures sculpts (with about 10 more sculpts in development). I hope Fantasy Flight picks up the pace -- but given their commitment to so many other games, it's unclear if this will happen.

A more significant problem flows from the game's very strengths. The dependence on miniature-specific cards means that your investment in the game could evapourate if and when Fantasy Flight Games decides to release a second edition with new rules. (Something like this happened when Imperial Assault's sibling game, Descent, transitioned from the first to the second edition. Fantasy Flight ameliorated the situation by releasing a "conversion pack" that issued new 2nd edition cards for the old 1st edition miniatures). This risk, of course, is not really a problem for historical wargames like Bolt Action or Saga, where an army of Saxons can always leap from one rule-set to another.

I've written about how we're living in a golden age of board games. I see Imperial Assault as part of that picture - a conscious effort to improve on old games using new and creative mechanics. Like Dead Man's Hand, it uses a deck of cards to enhance simple rules. Like Saga or Bolt Action, it uses customized dice. And like classic games like Heroquest or Space Hulk, it uses colour tiles to create a beautiful battle-board that anyone can access instantly, without a whole lot of modelling and set-up. And finally, like Warhammer 40K, it offers great possibilities for army building. But what Imperial Assault does that's unique is combining these elements into one cohesive game. Frankly, I can't wait to bust out Darth Vader and take another run at those Rebel Troopers...

My favourite activation card

The Rough Trade: an Orc Baggage Train

"The rag-tag followers that trail after an Orc & Goblin army are vile, destitute and quarrelsome beyond even the disgustingly low standards set by Orc warriors. Heavy and multiple-dugged Orc womenfolk make up the majority of the baggage train. Their mewling off-spring, the aged, whelps and assorted hangers-on make up the rest."

"Those too infirm, old or stupid to be drafted into the army can make a good living by 'workin' the baggage'. Drivers, leather workers, smiths, bunko-artists, and all manner of worthless scum can profit by hanging round the army. Taking advantage of the confusion, they loot pillage, burn and steal along with the rest of the army as well as sharing in the fun (torturing captives) and spoils (eating captives)."

Thus reads one of my favourite passages of writing in the entire body of Warhammer literature: the description of Orc & Goblin baggage trains contained in Warhammer Armies (1988) by Nigel Stillman. It embodies perfectly the colourful, grotesque and wry world of classic Warhammer.

As I've written before, I think a fantasy army is incomplete without a proper baggage train -- there's no better way to give your force its own unique personality. Certainly, my hapless and profoundly inebriated orc army, Krapfang's Backwood Bandits, deserved a suitably sordid group of camp followers. I wanted to give them a carnivaleque feel... one part Bruegel the Elder and one part Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

An orc army is spoiled for choice. The starting place is the range of Orc Villagers (C46) released by Citadel in 1988. Trish Morrison (now Trish Carden) is sometimes maligned -- and Crom knows, I've never loved her work for Marauder. But these Orc Villagers are the bees knees. They are especially gangly and awkward sculpts, even for orcs of the Kev Adams era. For Krapfang's army, I was immediately drawn to the blind drunk orcs, which I put together in a mini-diorama. I also wanted some looters, so I chose a male orc stealing a ham and a female orc stealing a halfling (it's the other white meat).

I rounded out the booty with one of the rare miniatures sculpted by game designer Rick Priestly -- a strong box from the C39 range of Treasure Chests. Who knew RP could sculpt very tiny furniture? The man's talents never cease to amaze.

But I wanted something special for the centerpiece of the baggage train. And that's when I hit on the idea of putting together a pathetic gang of human captives that the orcs are getting ready to sell for beer money. The slaves' presence would lend Krapfang a much needed air of cruelty -- and they can also function as a nice objective for any opposing army. The slave-master was an easy choice: a Goblin charioteer (from Marauder MM33), wielding a highly motivating whip. But finding the slaves was a harder matter - eventually I settled for some non-Citadel miniatures to fit the bill... some lovely sculpts from Iron Wind Metals.

Thrown together, I think they make a fairly unsavory tribe. The little touches in the sculptures are what I love the most: how the captured halfling is wagging his little legs, or way the eating orc wraps his lips around the leg of ham, like an octopus absorbing his prey.

Now, won't someone come and rescue those slaves?

Painted Imperial Assault Miniatures

Fantasy Flight Games continues to release Star Wars miniatures for their skirmish game, Imperial Assault. And as often as they release 'em, I'm compelled by a deep, salmon-spawning instinct to paint 'em. They could release a dollop of burning plastic, and I would have to paint it up. 

Lucky for me, the Imperial Assault sculptures seem to be getting better and better, with little touches that add a lot of character. So, for example, this model of Han Solo (from the "Han Solo Ally Pack") is transformed by one simple detail: the corner of his vest flares out, giving us the feeling that he's just whipped his body around to face a new threat.

A thoughtful person painting Han Solo is faced with an insoluble dilemma. Do I paint the hideous yellow shirt that he wore in A New Hope? Or the crisp white one that he wore in Empire Strikes Back? If you are indifferent on this issue, then ask yourself why you are reading this blog in the first place. 

Ultimately, I opted for authenticity -- this miniature looks like the younger Han, a man unafraid to commit crimes against both the Empire and fashion.

Chewbacca turned out to be a surprisingly difficult miniature to paint. This is because his fur is not a uniform brown, like Cousin Itt. Instead, the more I looked at Chewie, the more I realized that his pelt was a complex mass of colours. His face is a chestnut brown, but the top of his head is streaked with black as if he combs it with Brillo. And the fur under his arms is graying. Finally, his upper lip seems to sport a dark mustache. Painting these variations without letting them get out of control was a real challenge. In any case, I like this sculpture -- it has a nice sense of movement.

It breaks my heart that since the game is set right before The Empire Strikes Back, we are unlikely to see a miniature of Obi-wan Kenobi. I may have to brew up my own, if I can find a decent figure to convert. If any of you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

On the upside, Fantasy Flight has released some excellent models of the Rebel Troopers. These hapless soldiers are the first people you see when watching A New Hope. They (and their big hats) symbolize an insurgency that can't stand up to the power of Darth Vader and his Stormtroopers. I still can't look at them without wanting to bellow, "If this is a consular ship, where is the ambassador?!"

Another interesting Ally Pack is the Rebel Saboteurs. These green aliens are Duros, although their big red eyes are hidden behind some sort of night vision goggles. These visors are another lovely detail -- they look like something as much from Dune as from Star Wars. I painted these Duros with the same palette as the Rebel Troopers (buff trousers, blue shirts, black vests and boots) because I'd like my Rebels to have a consistent look.

It drives me crazy that Fantasy Flight has not yet announced a miniature for Princess Leia. Having miniatures of Luke, Han and Chewie (not to mention the soon-to-be-released C3-PO and R2-D2), but no Princess is maddening. Leia's sarcasm was the only subversive part of A New Hope. A game without her is missing a vital spice. And aren't women an important part of the gaming market? Besides, don't they know how good she'd look with a cocked sporting blaster? Is it hot in here? 

Epic Burn: Moorcock versus Tolkien

Michael Moorcock does not like J.R.R. Tolkien. He calls Tolkien a "second-rate schoolmaster". It's hard to imagine two authors who have been more influential on the development of fantasy literature -- so the reasons for this conflict bear some inspection.

Elric of Melnibone, painted by the author

Moorock's criticism of Tolkien is encapsulated in Epic Pooh, an essay he wrote in 1978 and revised in 1989 and 2002. He slashes at the Lord of the Rings on a number of fronts (infantile prose, sentimentality, and a happy ending), but his main thrust is that The Lord of the Rings is a "comforting lie" that glorifies meek obedience to the powers that be. Although it takes the form of an epic, the values it celebrates belong not to Hrothgar's mead-hall or the walls of Troy, but to the House at Pooh Corner.

Michael Moorcock

According to Moorcock, Tolkien's books are "deeply conservative and strongly anti-urban, which is what leads some to associate them with a kind of Wagnerish hitlerism." Ouch. By conjuring up a bygone era of  happy peasants and wise old wizards, Tolkien is telling his readers: "Don't ask any questions of white men in grey clothing who somehow have a handle on what's best for us." Ultimately, these books amount to "mildly anaesthetic British cabbage." Thanks to Tolkien, "the bulk of English fantasy seems to be written by rabbits, about rabbits and for rabbits."

Tolkien (who died in 1973) never had a chance to reply to Moorcock. But a thoughtful rebuttal was published by Brian Murphy at the excellent fantasy-literature website The Cimmerian. Murphy has no cheese for Moorcock. He strongly refutes the idea that Tolkien glorified war or shied away from portraying death. But his central point is that Moorcock misread the Lord of the Rings when he claimed that it was marred by a happy ending. For Murphy, the ending is anything but happy:

I would argue that the victory over Sauron is only a temporary reprieve against the encroaching dark. This is the great sadness of The Lord of the Rings... Magic has left the world. The great evil of the Third Age is defeated, but its void will be filled with other, more banal but equally sinister incarnations of evil.

There are only two problems with Murphy's analysis. The first is that he avoids Moorcock's main criticism. Although happy endings are part of the attack on Tolkien, Moorcock's focus is on Tolkien's political message:  the Lord of the Rings asks us to defer to old men in grey clothing.

J.R.R. Tolkien

Not that I think that there's no answer to Moorcock on this front. In fact, I think that Moorcock has entirely misread Tolkien on the issue of politics. In reality, old men in grey clothing don't fare so well in the Lord of the Rings. Saruman and Denethor are the prime examples: both pose as wise leaders, only to betray those who rely on them. But even Gandalf isn't infallible. He is frequently stumped (as in Moria), fooled (as by Saruman) and foiled (as when crossing the Misty Mountains). Indeed, one of the most striking things in The Lord of the Rings is that there are no authority figures on the side of good: no religion, little government and few leaders (Theoden is old, Boromir is cracked, Elrond is indifferent and Aragorn is reluctant). Middle Earth is a vast wilderness, not a well-ordered Tory estate. 

And this leads me to the second deficiency in Murphy's defence of Tolkien. He doesn't ask why Moorcock misreads The Lord of the Rings. For me, this is the most interesting question of all.

In my view, Moorcock's attack on Tolkien fits into a larger pattern in Western literature. Harold Bloom, the literary critic, pioneered an idea called the "theory of influences". Although Bloom was writing about poets like Keats and Yeats, his idea applies just as well to fantasy literature.

Bloom's theory is that when a young poet establishes himself, he is compelled to misread and criticize the very writers who influence him most. Without this misreading, the young poet  would be paralyzed by his own sense of indebtedness and un-originality. As Bloom wrote in The Anxiety of Influence (1973):

Poetic Influence--when it involves two strong, authentic poets--always proceeds by a misreading of the prior poet, an act of creative correction that is actually and necessarily a misinterpretation. The history of fruitful poetic influence, which is to say the main traditions of Western poetry since the Renaissance, is a history of anxiety and self-saving caricature of distortion, of perverse, willful revisionism without which modern poetry as such could not exist.

Harold Bloom

In my view, this is exactly what's going on here: Moorcock is employing a "self-saving caricature" of Tolkien, in order to give himself the elbow room to create his own art in the great man's shadow. To give just one example, both Moorcock and Tolkien are suffused with sorrow at the passing of an eldritch age of magic (compare the end of the Third Age in the Lord of the Rings to the triumph of the Young Kingdoms in the Elric Saga). Although this is the same theme in both authors, Moorcock mis-characterizes Tolkien's melancholy as mere sentimentality. 

However, this misreading gives Moorcock the ability to not merely imitate Tolkien, but to go beyond him in crucial ways. And so, the Lord of the Rings ends with the passing of the elves and their magic -- but Moorcock's best novels begin with such extinction. Thus Elric and Corum are each the last of a dying race, making them outsiders in their own world. Unlike Tolkien's hobbits and elves, these outsiders become rebellious, disaffected anti-heroes.

I know some people are horrified by Moorcock's attack on Tolkien. And I guess nobody likes it when mom and dad fight. But for me, I think Epic Pooh is actually a high compliment. Moorcock's misreading of Tolkien proves that both men are what Bloom would call "strong, authentic" artists.

(Many thanks to Stormbringer and others, who inspired this post after our discussion on the Oldhammer Forum.)

My Favourite Miniature Paint Job

I was digging through my old miniatures today, trying (and mainly failing) to get them organized. The job was brightened when I ran across this miniature -- a lovely sculp from Reaper by Werner Klocke. Out of the hundreds of miniatures I've painted over the last 8 or 9 years, I think this is the best one. By my lights at least, the skin tone looks natural, the shading in the fabrics is smooth, and the details pop. Most importantly, the little bugger has a sense of life. It's more Herr Klocke's sculpture than my brush, but he seems both scared and resolute.

I've been feeling a little depressed lately, so I haven't been writing or painting much. But looking at this mini makes me happy for some reason. The rum thing is that I don't even own him (I painted him for my friend Nicos to represent a character in a roleplaying game -- although now that the game is over, I've had trouble giving up custody). It's also a little unfortunate that, as a Citadel miniatures fanatic, I've wasted my best paint job on a non-Citadel sculpture. It's like a confirmed breast man falling in love and marrying a girl with great legs. Sad, but not that sad. 

Hot Lead: Canada's finest wargaming event

Wargaming conventions are like beds in a fairy tale -- they shouldn't be too big or too small. You want plenty of games but few queues. Lots of new faces, but no strangers. Here in Ontario we're blessed to have Hot Lead, a perfectly sized event. Hot Lead is held in Stratford every March. It's one of the highlights of my year (along with International Talk Like a Pirate Day). Last weekend I attended Hot Lead 2015, and this time I think the liver damage is permanent.

There are two things that make Hot Lead so good. First, it's run by a bunch of complete nutters. Second.... well. Hmmm. I've forgotten the other thing that makes Hot Lead fun. In any case, this year was a blast, with 67 different games held over 3 days, plus tournaments for Warhammer 40K and De Bellis Antiquitatis.

As always, my companion for the weekend was a particularly unhinged member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Our weekend started with a gorgeous game of Dux Britanniarum, a fast-action skirmish game set in Arthurian England. The game was run by Frank Kailik from the Kent-Essex Gaming Society. Frank is one of my favourite game masters of all time -- he has an amazing talent for creating gorgeous scenery out of rags, wallpaper and trash. For example, he hand-wove his fences (pictured below) using broom bristles and tooth-picks. 

Protecting the sty from some Saxon pigs

Frank's game involved a Saxon raid on a beautifully rendered British village. I had the good fortune of seeing my wing of the British force square off against an 11-year old. There's nothing that makes me feel more like a man that out-maneuvering a child during a wargaming event. Really, it's my only hope of victory.

The Saxon invaders bounce off my shieldwall like tennis balls

Saturday morning was a particularly twisted game by Dan Hutter, one of the Hot Lead originals. He created a 28mm pulp game set in a fictionalized African republic, involving various heavily armed factions facing off over a diamond mine. My government forces ("the Sovereign Morrowi Ubangi Regular Forces" or SMURFs) exchanged fire with the hated rebels ("the Morrowi Inter-Tribal Liberation Front" or MILFs) and various other homicidal militias. The highlight of the game were the gorgeous "technicals" (or improvised fighting vehicles) that Dan had created out of Hot Wheels and other models.

As their technicals surge forward, the MILFs take the high ground and prepare to unleash their rocket launchers on the SMURFs below.

On Saturday afternoon, I played an epic recreation of a Roman-Carthaginian battle during the Second Punic War. Games Masters Kris and Mark Koloff offered an incredible spectacle, with hundreds upon hundreds of finely painted 25mm miniatures. The star of the game, however, was their home-brew rule set. Notwithstanding 6 or 7 players and innumerable units, the game was fast and nail-biting -- with battalions disappearing with a single cast of the dice. And although their rules were simple, they presented the players with precisely the same problems that faced ancient generals: how to get at the flanks, when to throw in reserves, how to hold the line. Brilliant!

I led the Gallic allies of the Carthaginians on the left wing. My explicit instructions (which were fairly historically accurate) were to kill myself as quickly as possible. A colourful self-destruction on the left would distract the Romans while the Punic elephants and elites prepared to puncture the Romans on the right wing. Fortunately for me, my opposing Roman general was the same 11-year old I faced the night before in Arthurian England. Clearly the Gods of Petty Convention Gaming were smiling on me. Beating the odds, my Gauls overwhelmed the Romans and began to roll up their flank like a rug. It was, however, an empty triumph, since the rest of the Punic army was getting annihilated. My Gauls were left hanging. Vae Victis!

Punic elephants plunge through the Roman line, but the Romans would quickly reform.



Here's master model-maker George Duff's recreation of Roman chariot races using rules from Avalon Hill's Circus Maximus. Yes, those are hundreds of painted spectators watching from the stands (plus scores more in the galleries below the stands).

My last game was Keith Burnett's take on the Battle of Hoth. After trash-talking the Star Wars models from Wizards of the Coast, I felt pretty stupid to see how grand they look in living colour. The AT-AT Walkers and the AT-ST Scouts lumbered through the snow, trying to knock down the shield generator before the Rebels could escape. It was the perfect way to end the weekend. Too bad we let young Skywalker get away!

General Veers has failed

A big thanks to James, Patrick, Chris, Elizabeth and the rest of the Hot Lead crew for another bulls-eye!

Photo Courtesy of JoJo

Baggage Trains in Warhammer Fantasy Battle

Baggage trains are one of richest elements in 3rd edition Warhammer. In my view, no fantasy army is complete without a colourful array of camp followers. And yet, it is an oft-neglected element of the hobby: I could find only a few references to baggage trains on other Oldhammer sites (the best of which was Mouse's Flo's Field Kitchen). 

In an effort to fill in the gap, here are some pictures of the baggage for my 1000 point Wood Elf Army.

Baggage trains add three things to any game of Warhammer game: realism, conflict and creative modelling. 

The realism is simple. Most ancient armies couldn't exist without baggage trains: food stores, armourers and cooks, not to mention the sick and wounded. In the Late Middle Ages (the period corresponding to Warhammer's Old World), camp followers were not merely servants, but the wives and children of the soldiers. A chronicler of the Thirty Years War described the baggage train like this:

A regiment of three thousand men usually had not less than 300 vehicles, and each wagon was filled to overflowing with women, boys, children, prostitutes and  plunder.

This massive impedimenta (as the Romans aptly called it) didn't just vanish the moment the fighting started. Unfortunately for everyone, it was part of the battlefield.

Thus, the second thing that baggage trains add to the gaming table is conflict. A baggage train gives even the most aggressive army something to defend. But even for a victorious army driving the enemy back to its camp, the baggage train can be a peril. 

As written in the 3rd ed. Warhammer Rulebook (pages 102-103), a unit close to the enemy's baggage train will be compelled (by a failed Leadership test) to charge into the wagons and start looting, even if self-preservation would dictate a wiser course of action. What a great rule! This sort of ill-timed plundering was common in the ancient world -- perhaps the most famous case being the first Battle of Philippi, when Brutus' victorious troops dallied after capturing Octavian's camp, giving Octavian and Antony time to rally their troops. No biggie, Brutus. It's just the end of the Roman Republic.

Other interesting (and perhaps overlooked) rules about baggage include the fact that halflings go apeshit when defending baggage (+2 to hit and strength - page 103); armies get extra victory points for keeping their baggage intact (page 142); civilians in the baggage are the only units in the game to use improvised weapons (page 84); and mercenaries are more liable to bugger off when they get too close to either side's baggage train (page 125 of Warhammer Armies).

And lastly, baggage trains are grand because they're an opportunity for creative modelling. This is because Citadel never released any official miniatures for the baggage train (although there are some tantalizing unreleased models). The lack of anything official means that we have to take matters into our own hands, selecting from Citadel's beer-carts, townsfolk and villagers -- or going outside of Citadel. My favourite source for extra-Citadel miniatures is Wargames Foundry. As the Ansells' reincarnation of Citadel, Foundry models will replicate the scale and sculpting style of any Oldhammer force.

For my army, I decided that baggage wagons were inconsistent with elvish mobility. Instead, I used pack horses, combined with Jes Goodwin's elves (slightly converted to transform them into messengers and grooms). To add flavour, I threw in a piping faun (the Talisman Satyr) and a pudgy halfling chef (Samwise from Citadel's original Lord of the Rings series). 

As brilliant as they are, baggage trains were only with us for a short time. They didn't exist in 2nd edition Warhammer, and were dropped from 4th edition. And yet, baggage can be so much fun. As a Welsh soldier cries at the Battle of Agincourt in Shakespeare's Henry V, after the French despoiled the English baggage: "Kill the poys and the luggage! ... 'tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offer't." For my own part, I love to commit arrant knavery whenever possible.

***UPDATE: If you have any pictures or posts about your Warhammer baggage train, please let me know and I'll gladly link to this page.