While Syldavians sleep deeply after their Christmas feast, dreaming of their just-eaten roast goose and sugarplums, a patrol of Bordurian cavalry probes Syldavia's mountainous eastern frontier. These men and their horses are hard indeed, inured to the privation of the trail and to the snow. They ride through the frontier town of Vukaselo, making off with horses, lambs and plum brandy with barely a noise, and disappear into the mountains. Later, an aged veteran swears that the men were Wallachian light cavalry, feared servants of the Bordurians. What does this forebode?
These are unfinished figures which I have been painting in quiet moments here and there during the holidays. They are 18mm Eureka SYW cossacks, painted to resemble a few illustrations I have of 17th and 18th century Wallachian boyar cavalry, sometime allies/subjects of the Ottomans. They will, I hope, be finished shortly and then can march to join the rest of my Bordurian force. The unfortunate village is of course a quite innocent Christmas town, one which has seen quite a few holidays but never a hostile cavalry patrol.