back. That last night we sat around the
campfire, half starved to death, bleeding an’ cold, when that man
rode into the camp on a magnificent looking purebred. I remember we
all scattered and grabbed our swords, thinking the enemy has
slipped inside.”
“If I remember
correctly you ran so quickly you forgot your sword,” Altmoor
commented dryly.
“I was confident in my
fists, still am. So once we realised there was no enemy, we
gathered around and he started talking, outlaying a battle plan
that shot straight over our heads ... but it didn’t matter – we
were desperate enough to try anything.”
“What was he called?”
asked Roland.
“Rickter Shard, but we
called him Strategist. It was he who came up with Manoeuvres. Said
he used it to devise a battle plan against the desert empire.”
“So you won?”
“Chased them all the
way back into the desert, killing off more than two thirds ... but
Rickter fell in the final charge. Never even knew that his plan
worked so brilliantly.”
Silence settled around
the table, the two old warriors staring off into nowhere. Roland
regretted asking them about the armour and he asked, “How does
Manoeuvres work?” trying to change the mood. He noted that the
board was divided into alternating green and brown squares.
“Ah,” said Altmoor
leaning over the board. “Glad you asked. The object of the game is
to out manoeuvre your opponent and kill the opposing Commander.
Each player has fourteen units and you take turns moving them
across the battlefield, attacking and defending. These are your
Foot Soldiers,” he said and lifted a figurine for Roland to see.
The piece was a brilliant carving of a soldier in full armour
carrying a spear.
“You have seven of them
and they are primarily used for one thing only, and that is to hold
the enemy.” He placed his blue Foot Soldier in the centre of the
board, a red Foot Soldier directly apposite it.
“See, now neither piece
can move and are locked in stalemate. The only way for a Foot
Soldier to destroy the enemy is to be reinforced. The Foot Soldier
can move one square forward or one square directly to the side and
only on your turn. So, if I had another Foot Soldier here –” he
placed another Foot Soldier directly behind his blocked unit, “– my
original unit is now reinforced and the opposing Foot Soldier will
be defeated, removing it from the board.
“The rest of your
pieces are two Cavalries that can attack in all four directions,
two Archers that can attack up to three squares ahead, two
Assassins that are the only units able to move diagonally and
across the whole board in one move, and finally the Commander who
can move only one space and needs to be protected.
“Once one of your units
attack the enemy Commander, it’s considered your win. It is a
standard tactic to keep your Foot Soldiers in the front from the
start, since they act as a buffer for the rest of your units.” He
placed the Archer figurine four squares away from the enemy
Commander. “For example, in this position my Archer is one square
short of attacking the enemy Commander. On my next turn, I can move
it one square ahead bringing it into attack range and the Commander
will be defeated.
“Only your Foot
Soldiers need to be reinforced, of course. The rest of your units
are free to attack at will,” he finished, returning the figurines
to their original positions.
“I think the Assassins
are unfair units,” said Roland. “They are the only units capable of
moving diagonally and they also have the longest range of movement.
It seems as though Foot Soldiers can only block directly in front
of them and to the side, but not diagonally. So from the get go the
Assassin will be free to attack the enemy Commander.”
Altmoor looked up,
surprised. Manoeuvres were a complicated game not easily learned,
yet Roland had already seen a tactic from only an explanation.
“Indeed, very good of you to notice that,” he said. “Yes, the
Assassin is