Last week, I gave Ian his introductory game of Silver Bayonet. Like Dave before him he played the Wolf Pack scenario from the rulebook. Unlike Dave, he decided to use the French. This would enable to the two to meet in combat in the future if they both decided to continue with their respective stories.

Ian’s warband was chosen by me and designed to be extremely simple, with 7 infantrymen and an Officer. These represent a small scouting party sent into the Forest and are equipped as such. In the build up we decided that none of the men apart from his Alexis would have any idea about the Supernatural. Alexis though, does know snippets based on stories his father told him.

Captain Alexis Escoffier (+1 Accuracy, +1 Health, +1 Courage)

• Fencing Weapon, Pistol (x2), Breastplate, Holy Symbol, Cold Iron Weapon
• Great Faith
• Quick Load

Introduction – A Figure in the Night

The unit he had been sent to find had vanished without a trace. Sixteen men, all skilled scouts from the 12th Light Infantry, had disappeared into the heart of these woods almost a week ago. They had been tasked with gathering intelligence on the movements of an Austrian contingent, but no reports had come back. No word, no signal—nothing. Now, it was Alexis’s duty to discover what had happened, and if possible, retrieve any documents or orders they might have carried.

But the deeper he ventured, the more the task seemed like an impossible one. The forest was vast, confusing, and, if the whispers in the taverns were to be believed, cursed. The local peasants spoke in hushed tones of strange noises heard in the trees at night, sounds that no creature could make, distant drums, eerie songs sung by voices that belonged to no living thing.

Alexis had heard these stories before. In fact, they were some of the tales his father had often told him when he was a child. His father, a former officer in the Napoleonic army, had gone missing several years ago, vanishing without a trace. Alexis was determined to find answers—not just for the missing unit, but for the unanswered questions that gnawed at him in the quietest moments.

He turned to his sergeant, Bernard Chavelle, who was standing several paces away, scanning the forest line with a wary eye. Bernard’s furrowed brow told him all he needed to know: something was wrong.

“Sir,” Bernard said, his voice low. “We have found nothing. No signs, no tracks—nothing. I don’t like this. It’s as if the men never existed.”

Alexis remained silent, his gaze fixed on the dark, endless rows of trees. He could feel a heavy weight pressing on his chest, a feeling he had not experienced since that last night with his father, when they had spoken of things that seemed too strange to believe. His father had spoken of shadowy figures, of lights that led men astray, and of things that should not be possible—things that were beyond human comprehension.

“I know, Bernard,” Alexis said at last, his voice strained. “But we must keep searching. If we don’t, no one will ever know what happened to them.”

Chavelle nodded, but his eyes betrayed his growing unease. Alexis knew that fear was beginning to take root among the men. The rumours about the forest were well known, and no one spoke of it without a shiver. It was not only the missing unit that had the men on edge. It was the feeling that something far darker was at work in the depths of the trees.

As night fell, Alexis made his decision. The unit would press on.

“We will set up camp here,” he said, turning to his men. “At dawn, we move deeper into the forest.”

The men, though weary and apprehensive, obeyed. As the fire flickered and the night crept in, Alexis could see their eyes glancing nervously toward the woods. He had no words of reassurance for them—he shared their fear.

That night, sleep came reluctantly, if at all. The sounds of the forest were everywhere—screeching owls, rustling branches, distant howls. And yet, there was something else. As he lay there, staring at the stars above, Alexis thought he saw something move between the trees—too fast, too dark to be anything natural.

He sat up, heart racing. His father’s words came rushing back to him. “Never trust the silence of the forest, Alexis. It is only waiting for you to make the first mistake.”

At that moment, the sharp crack of a twig broke the silence, followed by a soft, almost imperceptible growl. Alexis’s breath caught in his throat. He stood up quickly, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword, and turned toward the source of the sound. But there was nothing. Only darkness. Only the weight of the forest pressing in.

“Sergeant” Alexis whispered urgently, turning to Chavelle. The man was awake, sitting up and listening intently. “Did you hear that?”

Bernard nodded, his face pale in the flickering firelight. “I did, sir. Something is out there.”

Without another word, Alexis stood, motioning for the men to follow him. They moved in silence, carefully, like shadows among shadows, each man straining to listen, to see. The darkness pressed in all around them, a thick, suffocating cloak.

And then, they saw it.

A dark shape moving quickly through the woods without making a sound. A shape of a man, but much too fast.

Alexis felt a chill run down his spine. This was not what he had expected. He had been prepared for the horrors of battle, for ambushes, for enemy soldiers—but not for this. This… thing in the woods.

“Do you see it?” Bernard asked, his voice a whisper of disbelief.

“I see it,” Alexis replied, his voice tight. He swallowed hard, his father’s warnings ringing in his ears. “Some things are not meant to be found, Alexis.”

And yet, he had come this far. He could not turn back now.

Alexis stood frozen in place, his heart hammering in his chest. The men around him muttered nervously, their eyes scanning the trees. Something was wrong—something was terribly wrong.

“Sir,” Bernard said, his voice shaking. “We have to get out of here. This is madness.”

But Alexis couldn’t move. His feet felt rooted to the ground, as if something was holding him there. He glanced to his right, and that’s when he saw it.

A figure—tall and dark—standing just beyond the edge of the trees. It was watching him.

The Battle

The game started reasonably well for Ian, with the French downing three wolves straight away. moving as a group the warband decided to investigate the clues as a group, overturning the first to find a Silver Saint Medallion.

However, as the group moved two more wolves arrived and the pack circling them closed in.

The French downed two more in the second turn, but the wolves were closing in. One was beaten back after ripping a chunk from one infantryman’s arm. Yet another wolf arrives at the end of the turn, its hungry eyes taking in the French warband.

Turn 3, and with the French now surrounded with little room for any movement, the wolf pack starts attacking in fury. The first French casualty occurs, and the French kill two wolves in reply. But at the end of the turn, a dark shadowy figure appears on the battlefield…. Alexis chooses to take a chance and sees a gap between the wolves. He runs through as the wolves close in.

As the French warband is attacked and brought down to a man, Alexis investigates a clue and luckily finds the missing orders. Taking one last shot, which downs a wolf, he runs from the battlefield as the sole survivor of the mission.

Aftermath

Alexis stared into the flickering flames at his feet, their light casting dancing shadows on the forest around him. The warmth did little to soothe the tremors wracking his body. His hands clutched the coarse wool of his coat, but no amount of fabric could shield him from the cold that had settled deep in his bones. It wasn’t just the chill of the night—it was fear. 

He could still hear their screams, faint but persistent, echoing through the trees. The men who had trusted him, who had followed him into this cursed forest, had been torn apart. Swift shadows darting between the trees had brought them down with inhuman speed and savage precision. The memory of their cries clawed at his mind, mingling with the guttural growl of a creature too unnatural to belong in this world. 

And then, the howl. 

It was no ordinary wolf that had hunted them. Alexis knew that now. The creature had stood upright, towering and powerful, its eyes gleaming with a feral intelligence. He had frozen at the sight, his feet rooted in place as his mind replayed the tales his father used to tell by the hearth. The stories of men who became beasts under the full moon. Stories he had dismissed as nothing more than superstitious nonsense. 

Now, those stories had claimed lives. His men. 

The thought of his father stirred a darker fear within him. His disappearance, so many years ago, had been shrouded in whispers and unanswered questions. What if these beasts, these *werewolves*, had been the answer all along? 

A sharp crack shattered the oppressive silence. Alexis flinched, his breath catching as he peered into the shadows beyond the firelight. His heart pounded, the sound almost deafening in his ears. He strained to see, desperate to discern what lay beyond, yet dreading the confirmation of his doom. 

Something moved. 

“Be still, mon ami,” a voice called softly, yet firm. “Quite a frightful day you have had.” 

The figure emerged from the darkness, cloaked in shadow and wearing a hood that obscured their face. They moved with practised ease, setting a rifle down by the fire before kneeling. Alexis couldn’t decide if the newcomer’s presence was a blessing or another herald of death. 

“I almost thought I saw a ghost,” the figure continued, their voice calm, almost conversational. “You look just like him, you know. The day we met. Right down to the wide-eyed look you are giving me now. It is always terrifying to find the world is not as simple as you once thought.” 

Alexis swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper as he asked, “Who?” 

The stranger tilted their head slightly as if surprised by the question. They reached up, pulling back the hood to reveal a face worn with age and experience. A small, knowing smile played at their lips. 

“Your father, of course.”