Like most wargamers, I have been involved in various campaigns over the years. Since most of my gaming is solo, the campaign system has had to be one that I could manage by myself and one that would hold my interest and enthusiasm. Often, I have failed miserably.

The early stages are always enjoyable: selecting the setting, developing the forces, working on the figures, setting up the campaign logistics etc. But after a few table-top battles, my interest has always flagged. The reasons for loss of interest include too much time between battles, no other wargamers involved to supply energy, continuity, and enthusiasm, and too many campaign details to manage.

My most recent ventures in campaigning have been far more successful by virtue of using a fictional narrative to set the scene and manage logistics and movement. In some ways, this is an expanded and detailed wargame diary. I enjoy the writing, so there is a satisfaction in this activity for its own sake. The narrative also provides a wargame-related activity for those times when I cannot game due to limitations of time or space. My thinking on this whole matter is not original and draws heavily on Don Featherstone's oft-stated ideas, particularly those summarized in the chapter entitled "Domestic Wargaming" in his book Solo Wargaming. (Where I depart from that Canon, the deficiencies are mine alone.)

I begin by developing a narrative describing the background, circumstances, forces, geography, and personalities of the campaign. This is an aid to organizing and recording my research if the campaign is to take place in an era or other setting that is outside my normal wargame periods. As the campaign progresses, the narrative also keeps a record of the action and eliminates much of the campaign bookkeeping as to supply and force location.

Commanders and their foibles have always interested me, so I tend to spend a lot of effort on creating them. The ones I create are seldom brilliant, gallant, or able. They are not the sort of heroic figures imagined by those who suffer from the "Rommel Syndrome." Rather, my commanders are often quirky, and include a large number of fools, drunkards, and scoundrels.

The narrative is based on a combination of what could occur historically and what I am interested in having happen -- that is, the sort of battles I am capable of putting together or with which I want to experiment -- stubborn defense, a raid, amphibious operations, overwhelming odds). The results of one battle help generate the next one, based on my judgment of what would logically follow. I argue with myself as I puzzle out what the various commanders would do based on what I know of them and their circumstances from the preceding narrative and their experience, if they have survived previous battles in the campaign. For instance, a crushing defeat could lead to a vigorous pursuit battle or massive looting and sacking; a drawn battle might precipitate an attempt at a flanking movement or strategic redeployment. 

I have found this method allows me to play a commander's game and yet stay close to the simple side of wargaming that many of us enjoy. I have also been able to involve various gaming friends in the campaigns as "visiting firemen," fighting one or more actions, but not having any responsibility for the campaign aspects that many people find boring. Pretty soon, I find that the campaign takes on a life of its own and that I do "research" back into what I have written just to keep things organized and consistent. It all becomes absorbing after a while.

The system has its drawbacks. There is a certain amount of predictability for me. That, however, is always the case in solo gaming. The inclusion of some of the standard sorts of chance elements (event cards, die rolls, and my own perverse thinking) and the work of "visiting firemen" cuts down on that. The narrative system is probably not sufficiently detailed for the true number crunchers whose real goal is a logistics game complete with spreadsheets and requisition slips. My goal is much more a fun game and the development of a story -- with Flashmanesque flavor, if I can manage it.

In order to put some flesh on the bones of what I have described, I have included the beginning of a recent campaign as an example. This campaign is set in the fictitious South American country of Nuevo Guano and deals with its war of independence in the years immediately following the Napoleonic Wars. The actual action was a mini-campaign within the larger campaign, and involved a Spanish sortie against potential rebel supply depots.

The campaign was set up as described herein. The mini-campaign, however, owes much of its inspiration and strategic mechanics to an article entitled "The Peasants are Revolting" by William J. Philpott, which appeared in Miniature War˘ames No. 55 (December 1987).

The tactical action was fought by my long-time wargaming friend, Paul Dobbins, as the Spanish, while I handled the map movement, limited intelligence (yes, haven't we all been accused of limited intelligence!), and table-top moves by the rebels. For tactical rules we used a slightly amended version of Aelred Glidden's "Disperse Ye Rebels" (many thanks again Aelred!). As an aside, "Disperse Ye Rebels" is an outstanding, fast-moving set of rules which has the proper feel for smaller actions in the horse-and-musket period. These are also rules with which one can easily tinker in order to produce slight variations as desired. The bottom line is that they provide a first rate punch-up on the wargame table and I strongly recommended them.

The figures were individually-mounted 15mm by an array of manufacturers, including: Old Glory, Battle Honors, Frontier, Minifigs, Dixon, Falcon (UK), and Essex. While some were Napoleonic era figures, others were ACW, ECW, AWI, 18th Century Pirates and Sailors, and Colonials. (A little paint and small scale yield wonderful results.) The total number of figures involved were about 80 Spanish and 50-60 Rebels. (This is such a small number, our esteemed editor could paint up the armies before breakfast.)

The War of Independence in Nuevo Guano Chapter I

They were called "Los Secondaries," literally meaning "the seconds," but in reality, it meant "the second sons." While they all might not have been second sons, there were many among the British adventurers in the Spanish colony of Nuevo Guano.

The end of Napoleon Bonaparte had left a void in British society, indeed in all of Europe. Peace, by its very nature, had brought an absence of upheaval. There was no place to shunt off the dolts and madmen. There was no ready arena for the making of reputations nor for plundering one's way to a quick fortune.

Turmoil in the Empire beckoned to some and unquiet in the East attracted others. But one destination that drew a disproportionate number of the men without titles was South America. In that locale -- part mountains, part jungle and all wild -- the seeds of rebellion had been sewn and the harvest was still in progress. Men like Bolivar and San Martin led uprisings against the decrepit Spanish colonial rule.

Fighting along side many of these indigenous rebels were the old soldiers of Europe. Fresh from the wars of the Corsican Corporal, they had needed skills and idle hands. Some were true old soldiers, some were tiresome adventurers, some were fops and dandies. But all were lured by the mystery, the mystique, and the promise of South America. Some eventually came to Nuevo Guano.

Nuevo Guano was not, in truth, such a strange land. A low, rolling plateau rose almost straight out of the Atlantic Ocean in the north. Then the plateau swept west to become first rich, and then a mixture of swamp and woods on the edge of the Gran Chaco. To the south, the plateau spread out into an extended arid plain. Here the colonists from Spain found a land more familiar to them. They left the coast to those who must trade with the world beyond the seas and turned their attention to the fields, groves, ranges, and mines of the interior.

It was at the coast that the colonial capital of Santa Hilaria had been established. A city of crumbling old world buildings with prodigious slums and an extensive red light district, Santa Hilaria also boasted a bustling port and well manicured city mansions of the colony's finest families. There were the requisite government offices filled with corrupt petty bureaucrats. The truly criminal administrators strutted about their elaborate quarters collecting bribes and kickbacks from one and all. Further down the coast were the smaller oceanside towns of Abierto del Oro and Dudar. These both were situated in less rapidly rising terrain than was Santa Hilaria.

Nuevo Guano was not a land filled with contentment. Here, as throughout its American colonies, Spanish rule was in the hands of the native Spaniards. American-born Spaniards, the Criollos, could not expect to hold government posts beyond the most minor ones. Moreover, all commerce between Nuevo Guano and the rich markets of Europe was in the exclusive control of the Spanish merchants. (Although trade with other colonies could be conducted directly by the Criollos.)

During the period of French rule in Spain, governing committees, known as j untas, appeared throughout South America. In Nuevo Guano, these were led by the Criollos who were not content to surrender power when Spain threw off the yoke of French occupation. The government in Madrid was not prepared to give up any of her colonies without a fight.

Nuevo Guano was isolated from much of the rest of the colonial establishment around it by either rebellious colonies (or independent former colonies) and Brazil. The Royal Governor General of Nuevo Guano, Marshal Francisco de Guapo y Gordo, was very much on his own. He had at his disposal a small colonial militia, a few detachments of regular Spanish soldiers, and the resources of the Spanish community. Santa Hilaria and the other ports were also regular stops for Spanish warships and transports, so that in the event of trouble, there was frequently reliable help near at hand.

The independence movement began slowly in Nuevo Guano. The call of "War to the Death" issued by Bolivar in 1813 was not echoed until well after the final defeat and exile of Napoleon. As a result, the Spanish government thought Nuevo Guano to be a secure colony. Only a few native Spanish troops were dispatched there immediately to prop up the local Royalist government. This was a much different response than the Spanish had to the unrest in the Viceroyalties of Peru and New Granada.

By late 1816, however, the tide was beginning to run with the Republicans across the continent. The Gaucho Army had challenged effectively Spanish control in the northern portion of the United Provinces of La Plata (Argentina). San Martin had spent two years gathering his Army of the Andes at Mendoza and was ready to move west through the passes into Chile.

Seeking a strong Criollo leader, the Republicans of Nuevo Guano turned to Hernando Rodrigo Perro. A man of wiry build and crisp speech, Perro had built a vast mercantile establishment on the strength of his own drive and ingenuity. His warehouses were efficient, his ships and wagons were new, and he even had one clerk whose role was to plan the growth of his businesses. Perro was truly a man of vision.

Perro was restricted officially as to the business he could conduct by the mere fact of his birthplace. But he was ambitious, and sought to trade indirectly with Europe and the young United States. Perro established social contacts with representatives of, among others, the Royal South Indies Company -- the RSIC -- and the British South Oceans Coffee Company.

South Oceans, as the latter was known, had its principal office in Santa Hilaria which was charged with managing the company's affairs both in the port and the interior. Just what were the particulars of those ventures was something of a mystery, as was relationship of South Oceans to its owners in England. But Nuevo Guano was a land of mystery. No one hardly noticed one more.

South Oceans's Chief Agent in Nuevo Guano was Horatio Primrose. Primrose was a short, somewhat roly poly man, given to slightly out-of-fashion suits. He had virtually no neck, a slightly florid face, and dark hair. There were whispered rumors that he might be a Jew, but no one in Nuevo Guano knew or genuinely cared. For the Spanish merchants, he was a customer, both for their goods and raw materials. To the Criollos, he was a conduit for illicit trade, information, and, perhaps, more.

One of Primrose's principal assistants was a young clerk named William Chatsworth. Not yet out of his teens, Chatsworth was not a second, but a third son. His father was an old business acquaintance of one of South Oceans's senior partners. William served briefly and without distinction as an ensign in the North Loamshire Regiment during the closing days of the Peninsula Campaign. While on active service, he had developed a fondness for cards. He had left the Army upon the abdication of Napoleon. A passing comment in a club in London about his failure to rejoin his regiment when the Emperor returned from Elba led not to a duel, but to fisticuffs in the street. Card playing was an accepted, if dangerous vice. Bare knuckle affrays were unheard of for members of his class. His triumph over his accuser, however, had won William the sobriquet "Gamecock Billy," a name in which he revelled and his father despaired. Fearing the worst for his son's future, the senior Chatsworth persuaded his friend at South Oceans to send William as far away from temptation and society as was possible. Thus, William "Gamecock Billy" Chatsworth found himself in Nuevo Guano. What he wound up doing there would trouble his father somewhat more than cards or brawling.

In Santa Hilaria, South Oceans employed a small number of clerks, warehousemen, and dock workers. In the interior, its plantations, mines, and ranches were a small, but significant part of the economy. There were larger, more important international firms in Nuevo Guano making South Oceans like a spaniel among mastiffs.

One of South Oceans' larger mines was in the area west of Abierto de Oro. In January 1817, Primrose sent Chatsworth down to that mine for consultations with its manager, Rupert Blackadder, a scion of the illustrious Blackadder family which had served British monarchs for centuries. More than one Blackadder at a time frequently served at Court or in high echelons of the government. But Rupert Blackadder had come to manage the mine in Nuevo Guano after a scandal erupted in which his young wife Helene (nee Belvedere) had been accused of serving under more Royal Navy officers than a master gunner with 25 years at sea. Still a young man himself, Blackadder left Portsmouth for South America and soon found himself working for Horatio Primrose outside of Abierto de Oro.

All was not well in Abierto de Oro. The Criollos there had felt the reassertion of Spanish power particularly harshly. There were also agitators in the town, many of whom derived power and status from stirring up the minor merchants and the small community of Criollo gentry. They questioned the right of Spain to maintain its authority and argued that the Criollos, not the Spaniards should shape Nuevo Guano's destiny. These agitators, led by Jorge Bren and Fernando Maldinado, adopted the nickname "Perrotistas" after the leader of the Criollo republican movement. 

It was not long before the activities of men like Bren and Maldinado caught the attention of Abierto de Oro's military commandant, Col. Enrique Sorensis. Col Sorensis was one of the most corrupt blackguards in a land in which corruption had been raised to high art. He established his headquarters in one of the finest mansions in the town, where he lived in comfortable splendor, drinking the best wines (local and imported) and cavorting with the most luscious women of the town. His licentious living was not surpassed even by Gov. Guapo y Gordo, who spared himself no luxury.

But if he was a scoundrel, Col. Sorensis was shrewd. The wily colonel knew that if he were to have free reign in Abierto de Oro, he must keep satisfied (and, at times, well paid) his masters in Santa Hilaria and keep order in Abierto de Oro. No one was more concerned than he about the unrest stirred up by Bren and Maldinado. Gov. Guapo y Gordo was not scrutinizing his performance closely yet, but it was bound to come soon if Col. Sorensis did not restore the region to its usual placid state.

Col. Sorensis tried several times to trap Bren and Maldinado as they went about their business, but they were clever and slipped through his net. He feared that if he simply burst into their homes and arrested them, it would incite, not quell the unrest. He would need something more.

Thus it was that Col. Sorensis thought it fortuitous when he received word from one of his informants that the Perrotistas had stored arms and supplies in several of the surrounding villages, including San Gabriel, Concordilla, and Muchas Tortillas. Although his agents did not say so, Col. Sorensis suspected that other storage depots outside Abierto del Oro might include the South Oceans mine, the Convent of Santa Juanita del Soto (St. Jane of the Thicket), and several other similar places.

Based on the information he received, Col. Sorensis resolved to mount an expedition to seize both the Perrotistas supplies and their leaders. He would employ all the forces he had at hand. He did not think it would take much to quash the Perrotistas, but he thought a show of force would eliminate any thoughts of rebellion for some time to come.

After Christmas, Col. Sorensis decided that he would move against the Perrotistas on January 8, 1817, two days following Three Kings Day (January 6th). At his disposal were the 2d and 5th Battalions of the Colonial Militia, the 1st Battalion of the Santa Margarita Regiment (Spanish regulars), a small artillery detachment, and 1st Squadron of the Del Sol Dragoons. In keeping with protocol, Col. Sorensis advised Gov. Guapo y Gordo of his plans, promising to send Bren and Maldinado to Santa Hilaria with his next dispatch.

The plans of Col. Sorensis and the colonial government were not as secret as they might have been. Indeed, a Perrotista spy knew of the Spanish plan almost before the commanders of the units involved and she rushed the information to the Perrotista junta. The information was not complete, however, and all that the Perrotista leaders knew was that the Spanish planned some action against their supplies and their leaders. Maldinado and Bren resolved to go into immediate hiding, Maldinado to San Cristobal and Bren to Chiquita Banana. The Perrotista military leaders (little more than those landowners who could shout the loudest at the junta's secret meetings) began to relocate their supplies.

The Spanish troops tumbled out their barracks about midnight, January 8, 1817. Col. Sorensis intended to establish a base of operations at Muchas Tortillas because of its central location and the network of roadways that came together in that village.

At about 2:00 a.m., the Spanish forces moved west to Muchas Tortillas with Major Fidel Allende's 1/Del Sol Dragoons in the van. Col. Sorensis, his deputy Lt. Col. Alberto Picante, and the infantry and artillery followed about a half hour's march behind the dragoons.

Just before 3:00 a.m., in the beginning of the dawn's glow, Allende and his cavalry crossed the bridge over the stream east of Muchas Tortillas. Arrayed astride the road, they saw a company of Perrotista infantry and situated off on the slowly rising ground to the north was a troop of mounted Perrotistas. They had been somehow alerted and formed about midnight. They had waited until the dragoons came with the intention of barring the way into Muchas Tortillas.

Allende was a brash and reckless man. He was a harsh disciplinarian and a tyrant, with none of the "moderating vices" of drink or women that were so common among the Spanish officers in Nuevo Guano. Seeing the Perrotistas, Allende brought his squadron on line and pitched into the formed footmen. The Perrotista infantry scattered after taking only minor casualties.

Next, the mounted Perrotistas spurred their horses forward and came to grips with the right wing of the dragoons. In a brief and heated melee, the dragoons cut down almost half of the Perrotistas and drove the rest from the field almost as quickly as they had vanquished the infantry. To the cries of, "Long live the King!" the dragoons regrouped after their victory and cantered on toward Muchas Tortillas.

By shortly after 4:00 a.m., the entire Spanish force had arrived at Muchas Tortillas and were searching the town for rebel supplies. A swift search turned up a considerable amount of poorly hidden munitions and stores which the Spanish loaded on to their empty wagons. Col. Sorensis directed the Del Sol Dragoons to reconnoiter with one troop down each of the roads leading north from Muchas Tortillas, to San Cristobal, the Convent of Santa Juanita del Soto, and Santa Maria; (Major Allende accompanied the troop to the convent.) Meanwhile, the rest of the Spanish troops set up cooking pots and ate breakfast.

In an hour and a half, the three dragoon patrols had returned. All had taken hostile fire en route to their objectives. Since the resistance seemed most serve on the road to the Convent of Santa Juanita del Soto, Col. Sorensis concluded that represented a concentration of Perrotistas. Surmising that they must be concentrated for a reason -- a large cache of arms and other supplies or perhaps one of the rebel agitators -- Col. Sorensis directed that the entire force march immediately on the convent. 

"Immediately", of course, means different things in different armies. To an American of the time, it means "after it's been explained and a vote has been taken." To a Frenchman, it means "after a speech and a cheer." To a Briton, it is "Right-bloody-now you miserable layabout!" And to the servants of his Catholic Majesty the King of Spain, it means "after we have finished our meal, taken our leave of the senoritas, had some more wine ...." In short, it was nearly an hour before the Spanish force headed north to find out what treasures were hidden at the holy place where dwelt the holy sisters.

By about 7:00 a.m., the 1/Dragoons Del Sol rode past some rough scrub and saw the Convent of Santa Juanita del Soto beyond the bend in the road. To the east was the Order's large orchard surrounded by a stone wall. Just beyond the bend in the road, however, was a large body of Perrotista infantry with a smaller force on the east of the road, in front of a gate to the orchard.

The Dragoons charged the smaller body of rebels who managed two ragged volleys before they collapsed in utter disorder. The rebel volleys had, however, emptied a number of dragoon saddles causing many a brilliant yellow dragoon uniform to turn a bright orange as blood from gaping wounds spread over the fine Spanish cloth.

Maj. Allende drove his men after the routing company of Perrotistas, riding along the low wall of the orchard. All of a sudden, a company of Perrotistas appeared behind the wall of the orchard. They had hidden patiently until a ripe target appeared and the flank of the victorious dragoons was a luscious treat for the Perrotistas, many of whom had been bona fide bandits not long before. The rebels fired with devastating accuracy inflicting severe casualties on the enfiladed horsemen. The dragoons fell in knots around the field. Those still in the saddle turned and fled behind the advancing lines of infantry and the deploying guns of Cpt. Salvador Castro.

Along the road, the 1/Santa Margarita and 5/Colonial Militia had shaken out from road column to line. Col. Sorensis rode up to Maj. Liam O'Keefe and shouted encouragement to the battalion as it advanced on the large body of Perrotistas deployed across the road. A few stout volleys from the 1/Santa Margarita and wild shouts from the Irish adventurer who led it drove the Perrotistas back toward the Convent.

The Perrotistas who had been hidden in the orchard, buoyed by their unexpected triumph over the Dragoons del Sol, advanced over the low wall directly toward the artillery detachment east of the road. When they were at close range, Cpt. Castro opened up with both guns and nearly obliterated the rash rebels. A victorious cheer went up from the Spanish gunners and watching infantry. The artillerists hauled on their gun ropes and manhandled their pieces forward, so as to bring their guns to bear on the large force of Perrotistas who were defending the stout walls of the Convent.

In a little less than an hour after the initial contact at the Convent, the Perrotistas were all driven into the Convent. Col. Sorensis pulled back the 1/Santa Margarita and brought the unblooded 5/Colonial Militia forward to storm the Convent. Still leading from the front, Col. Sorensis and Maj. Jesus Marcos waved their hats and swords in encouragement as the infantry moved toward the south side of the Convent under cover of artillery fire.

Ultimately, several artillery rounds into the southeast corner of the Convent and the shoulder-to-shoulder advance of the 5/Colonial Militia proved too much for the Perrotista defenders. After a couple of marginally effective volleys, they ran for the surrounding countryside leaving the Convent to the Spanish troops.

Col. Sorensis was uncharacteristically cordial to the nuns -- members of the Order of the Sisters of the Sick and Tired -- who came out of hiding. Perhaps relying on the traditional role of the Church in government affairs, Col. Sorensis simply collected the abandoned rebel arms and military supplies and left the remains of the Dragoons with the 1/Santa Margarita at the Convent to lick their wounds before marching off to San Gabriel.

The road to San Gabriel passed over a large creek west of the village. On the west approach to the bridge over the creek, the Perrotistas had dug a shallow entrenchment and placed a small company of men behind the earthworks. A second small force waited in the open on the east side of the bridge.

At about 11:00 a.m., the 5/Colonial Militia again deployed into line. With Lt. Col. Picante, an able engineer, supervising the deployment of the guns south of the roadway on the west bank, Col. Sorensis led the 5/Colonial Militia forward against the rebel breastworks. The Spanish assault went in with a mighty roar and a volley. As they crested the rebels' earthworks, the vastly outnumbered Perrotistas broke and ran back over the bridge, leaving a trail of dead and dying casualties.

The Spanish surged forward over the bridge like water through a funnel. As the head of the Spanish column appeared on the east side, the remaining rebels fired and momentarily halted the 5/Colonial Militia. But urged on by Col. Sorensis and Maj. Marcos, the soldiers gathered themselves up and drove off the surviving Perrotistas.

Upon entering and searching San Gabriel, Col. Sorensis rested his men. In midafternoon, Col. Sorensis left Lt. Col. Picante in San Gabriel with the 5/Colonial Militia while he marched on to Perro Viejo with the 2/Colonial Militia and the artillery. At Perm Viejo, the Spanish brushed aside an insignificant rebel detachment and burned a small quantity of supplies. After that, they returned to Abierto del Oro.

The following day, January 9, 1817, Maj. Allende's force left the Convent of Santa Juanita del Soto, joined up with Lt. Col. Picante's troops in San Gabriel, and returned to Abierto del Oro by the end of the day. Some of the men were none too pleased at having been left in the field (without proper provision being made before leaving on the expedition on the 8th) while Col. Sorensis returned for the night to his warm, dry quarters, energetic whores, and smooth wine in Abierto del Oro.

Far greater, however, was the discontent that had been ignited by Col. Sorensis' expedition among the populace. The Criollos had seen their neighbors and landsmen killed, their villages looted, and the symbols of their religion fired upon (although, thankfully, not defiled by the human waste that made up the Spanish Army and the Colonial Militia.) 

At a junta meeting the day after Lt. Col. Picante's force returned to Abierto del Oro, "Gamecock Billy" Chatsworth -- who had hoped to negotiate an apple brandy purchase from the Sisters of the Sick and Tired who made the potent potable at the Convent, but who now would have to wait because all the brandy returned to Abierto del Oro with the Spanish -- urged the Perrotistas to assemble their sympathizers from around the region and march on Abierto del Oro. Helene Blackadder recalled in her diary that he told the assembled rebel leaders, "Let's string that defiling, whoring bastard, Enrique Sorensis, from the city gates and have his toes for lunch!" Mrs. Blackadder also recalled that Chatsworth's ardor filled her with, "A swelling passion and desire that I could not resist and must rush to quench."

End Notes

All in all, Paul and I had quite a busy gaming session. The above-described action took us about 3 1/2 to 4 hours to game. This included time for the opening strategic briefing, setting up all three tactical actions and fighting them, the all-important reprovisioning with snacks, and the most-important lots of laughs. The Spanish did not meet substantial opposition, except at the Convent, but that is to be expected in the early stages of a rebellion.

We used a simple random system for generating the number of rebels at any particular place: Roll 1D10 for small villages to which the Spanish advanced; 1D20 for large villages; an 11 brought the rebels a company of cavalry in addition; and a 20 produced a rebel gun.

There was a system in place for a rebel ambush in the event that the Spanish encountered rebels in a village with a woods, but the dice never went that way.

Each village or other location on the strategic map had from 0 to 16 points worth of hidden rebel materiel and/or rebel leaders. The contents of any particular location were unknown to the Spanish, but were determined in advance of the mini-campaign. On driving off the rebel defenders, the Spanish could search the location for either one or two strategic moves. I made a simple search table on which the Spanish rolled for the success of their search. Based on the length of the search and the roll of 1 D6, they discovered some, all, or none of the hidden items at a given location.

In the end, the Spanish had a fairly successful sortie, but came home a bit empty-handed in the strategic sense because the rebel leaders were still at large; and the populace was outraged and aroused by the spilling of so much local blood. As the situation stands, there is likely to be a universal call to arms and, most likely, open rebellion throughout Nuevo Guano. But that's another story for another day.