Rules of the West Part One

Back in the dark ages of wargaming, before Bolt Action and Cruel Seas, games were either robots and elves, or they were historical.   The latter class of games tended to be either dry war simulations featuring cardboard chits moved across a map, studiously replicating the Second Italo-Abyssinian War or they were masses of annoyingly accurate 15mm 19th century troops being pushed slowly around a board replicating Antietam.  These were only played by men who looked like George RR Martin.

Nearly two decades ago, we got Flames of War, which kept the beardy 15mm scale but went for more mass appeal.  In the process, it disproved years of speculation by the old grognard gamers that any attempt to make historical gaming fun would cause the Earth to spin off its axis.  It also caused steam to pour out from under those old man fisherman caps as gamers pitted battalions of IS-2s against waves of bren gun carriers.  A good time was had by most, especially the folks at Battlefront, selling crudely cast resin tanks for obscene sums of money.

Shortly before this time, the folks at Games Workshop created a little division called Warhammer Historical, which worked to combine the company's well known love of historical accuracy with its collection deceptively simple yet infuriating rules.  The Warhammer Ancient Battles rules were wildly popular and had spun off more supplements than anyone could count.

By the early 2000s, the historical division had added games covering pirates, Trafalgar, and cowboys.  That last one was Legends of the Old West, and it became something of a legend in gaming.  It allowed players to build and outfit their warband, er, gang in a way that 40K players would find comfortingly familiar.

Legends of the Old West, or LotOW for those in the know, was slickly produced, with 136 glossy pages full of background info and color gaming photos.

Behind the glossy cover was a reasonably solid game with an extensive campaign system.   That campaign system had some good elements, but like the rest of the game, had issues that drew calls for a heavily revised second edition.  As it stood, a runaway leader could emerge early and little could be done to stop them as they amassed equipment and gunfighters.

One aspect that marks LotOW as distinctly a product of its time is the amount of bookkeeping required.  Character sheets, infamy tallies, equipment inventories, payrolls, etc.  Every posse should come with one figure in a green visor, carrying a pen and ledger.

For a game with so many things to keep track of, there are surprisingly few options for the types of gangs you play.  It's limited to cowboys, outlaws, and lawmen.  No native groups.  No cavalry. No Mexicans.  Those all get added in the Plains War and Alamo supplements, but how much those factions work in the context of the first book is up for speculation.

The final mark against the game is the questionable handling of minorities and women.  They're all only hired help, and not even allowed to be fully part of a gang.  The powers they bring to the game are cringeworthy.  The treacherous "bandido" has the ability to shoot even when it risks killing one of his comrades.  The soiled dove moves around the board projecting a blinding sexual allure.  While he doesn't get a firearm, the Chinese railway worker has access to ancient herbal remedies, and both he and the Indian have the "heathen" special ability.  Yikes.

It's a game I could see getting into as a long running campaign among friends.  The rules are a touch crunchy, but no more so than 3rd Edition 40K.  Where it doesn't work is as a pickup game.  Just creating a gang requires a ledger and more fussing around than a beer and pretzels skirmish game should require.