Hedningen

Yup, the arms were a nice crowning point on this costume. Construction-wise, they started out as a 'skeleton' of PVC pipe, jointed twice at the 'shoulder' and the elbow joint using pipe caps and wall hooks, which were bent closed. The whole assembly was attached to my body using a harness, which had the joint for the 'shoulder' portion attached to it. Two wires were attached to each arm, in the center of each segment through a pair of drilled holes and secured with a bit of epoxy. The upper portion of the lower arm is attached directly to the sleeve of the upper arm. The lower segment of the arm is controlled by another wire, which has a loop that slips over a finger. Working on a bit of an improvement on the lower arm controls; the wire loops tended to slip and sting like hell, so I'm going to attach rings to it. Fortunately, I kept them by my side most of the evening, as I needed to use my hands. Building this was fun, especially the hands. Might work on building some properly-jointed fingers as I continue to improve this particular costume.

Well, first off, thanks to Wyrd for providing some good concept art and inspiration for a costume this year. I'm not much of a tailor, so I'll freely admit that this particular costume could use quite a bit of work, but I think I got the general idea fairly well. So, may as well ask; anyone else see any good costumes? Spent most of my time in this DJing at a party, so I didn't get to wander the streets too much, but I certainly had a fun time. Though the number of times I had to say "Short story; evil puppet. Long story; I'm a huge nerd, and here's this great game" to the question of what the hell I was dressed as got absurd as the night went on.

May as well add myself to Madison, Wisconsin. There really are quite a few players there; just not on the forums.

Just as a point of order, shouldn't Johan cost 7SS when hired by Kaeris? Remember; he only gets the price drop when hired into crews with M&SU Members, not Assets. Unless the card has been updated, she's only an Asset, and so unless you take a Union Miner (Both a M&SU Member and a M&SU Asset), he technically shouldn't receive the reduced cost. Not trying to be overly lawyer-y here, but I think it's a major point, and gives you a reason to hire Union Miners to provide Johan with his buffs as well as reduce his cost slightly.

Cassandra has some bad information, and really lacks model synergy information; that whole page will likely merit a look sometime this week. Gunsmith needs a page; this shouldn't be too horrendous to go through. Basic information is easy enough, and they're wonderfully versatile models to use. I've got some decent, basic playing information with Swarms, so I may take a look, but there's not much I've done with them yet, so it might be better to let someone else give that a shot. Same with December Acolyte and Ice Golem; used to play Raspy, but that set has been stripped and repainted as my friend's primary crew, so I'm quite rusty on them. Finally, I know that you'd prefer to finish off stuff from Books 1 & 2, but I've recently gotten a lot of playing time in with Angelica and Union Miners, so I'd love to share some of the tips with using them in various crews. Not sure how you want me to go about that, but I'll wait until more of the

Well, his daughter was named Rasputina, and spent quite a bit of time in Siberia.

Johan only gets the bonus to Cb when he's within 3" of a M&SU Member. So far, this means C. Hoffman, Colette, Ramos, Joss, and the Union Miner. Remember; the Miner is both an Asset and a M&SU Member, so it shows that there is a distinction between the two. Also a fun thing to note; Johan is cheaper when hired into a crew containing a M&SU Member, not just led by one. Union Miners make him 1 SS cheaper, although most of the Masters that would take him are already M&SU Members. The only person this is really useful for is Kaeris, who is an Asset without being a Member.

While this is admittedly tenuous, Colette may have been influenced by Sidonie-Gabrielle Colette, a French novelist and music hall/burlesque performer. Definitely an interesting writer, and damn fine if you read French. As has been mentioned, Coppelius is a reference to E.T.A. Hoffmann's story Der Sandmann, and probably one of my favorite references in all of Malifaux. I've always thought of Johan as a Germanic-renamed reference to the John Henry legend; he's a man wielding a large hammer, dedicated to the charter if not the leaders of the M&SU, and modern folklorists placing the John Henry legend as having taken place in an operation that used prisoners to do the hard labor. Coryphee is the name of a ballet dancer rank, which draws yet another amusing connection to Coppelia (the ballet based around two stories of Hoffmann). Mortimer is a reference to the comic gravedigger, a frequently used stock character. Just one of those little things that entertains me. Bête Noire refers to something that needs to be avoided or not talked about; given her reputation within Malifaux and the legends associated with her, it's not too much of a stretch to see where she might have come from. Honestly, reading through Malifaux makes me want to write some Dinesenesque stuff, just to fit in.

I would love to see Johan as a Henchman, but I know it's somewhat unlikely considering he'd overlap with the preexisting M&SU Henchewoman Kaeris. Still, the thought of him attracting more anarchy-driven union members and firebrands would be highly entertaining. Still, his Henchman status would be interesting; most likely a few spells related to breaking things and perhaps inciting rebellion in your opponent's models, slightly better stats, maybe Duty (after all, he serves the charter and his own personal philosophy; hard to convince someone that passionate that they should disobey, ja?) and perhaps a reputation as being an out-and-out rioter for the Union, rather than the mafia-like work of Ramos or the stealthy (albeit incredibly destructive and fiery) work of Kaeris. Still, bit of a pipe dream, as the Union gets a lot of emphasis. If there are rules for upgrading minions into Henchmen, however, I'm definitely running "Rioting Miner" list with Johan at the helm.

This thread calls for more pictures of random forum-goers. It also allows me to post one of the better photos ever taken of me.

I've had some decent success with a modified version of Deadlands Reloaded; the biggest issue is allowing the use of magic for players without overly gimping them. I'm also about 30 pages into a homebrewed Malifaux RPG using the basic statistics of the system. At the moment, it's still in hideous, hideous development; it mostly feels like using individual models, but playtesting has been fairly positive so far. Generally, point-buy is the most logical method of doing things, along with allowing for flexible spell/ability generation. Balance is always a problem with considerably homebrewed systems, however, and so nailing down what a 'basic human' in Malifaux is, to allow for proper costing and differentiating effects that have an effect on the skirmish game as opposed to an RPG is interesting. For those wondering about mechanics and other such things; you get a control hand per 'scene', which means that players tend to hang onto them until necessary for tasks. Skills are done using relevant statistics, and things are doubtlessly going to change as time goes on. Trying to keep it as close as possible to the game, but more stats are definitely necessary.

I've actually ended up using a proxied Angelica in several games so far. After my initial outrage at comparing her Showstopper trigger to the Warden's Restraint Claw trigger (No damage/Card-draining or Paralysis/Only non-Masters vs Damage/Non-preventable Paralysis), I figured out that her ability is fairly useful, and is fluffy. Few important things I've noticed, which may or may not need some rules clarifications; As far as I can tell, Projected Voice is meant to be shot into melee. There's no chance of it harming your girls, if it hits them you can cheat the damage up to spread a few (weak) blasts without hurting your own units. RAI question; if Projected Voice is shot into melee involving Showgirls, then does this mean that you don't have to flip to see if they're hit? I've played it both ways, and while luck made it not make a huge difference, I'd be quite happy for a ruling that said you don't have any chance of accidentally wasting an attack shooting into a melee involving Showgirls and whatever models your opponent has brought to the table. Bring Out The Next Act is an almost automatic action when playing her and when you need to get your models into position/doing a 1-2 strike. Admittedly, it's dependent on having at least a 6, but considering that's a 61.1% chance on an untouched deck, that's decent, and the range makes it even more useful. (As an aside; the math for Malifaux presents some entertaining areas for exploration for the overly-concerned-about-theory-and-percentages types. Consider that, discounting the possibility of drawing the Black Joker in your opening control hand, there's a ~2.1% chance for any randomization-requiring action to fail perfectly [barring strange luck on both players' parts i.e. both players flipping Black Jokers when the attacker has Cb higher than defender's defense, negative flips causing the final value to be lower/equal to a basic stat value], which increases by the same ~2.1% for every single card flipped. If I were more of a statistician, it'd be an interesting area for study). Her abilities as a WP debuffer are also quite useful. While anecdotal evidence is rarely good evidence, I was able to do some quite nasty things using her in combination with Performers, and her prevention of terror within her particular bubble makes her exceedingly useful when you need a 'safe zone' around an objective. Combined with BOTHA and a shot at Showstopper, you now have a useful tool for pulling off Poison Gift. It also makes Mesmerizing a little bit more possible. Give Them An Encore has been situational for me, at best. I ended up using it once, in order to get Cassandra out of melee before her activation while playing against a Nicodem crew. I suspect its use will become clearer once I've had a few more games with her. One use I can see for it would be pushing Mannequins around to make use of Mirrors; while keeping them Linked to Angelica would make this fairly useless (as it would snap back once her activation ends), it is one way to alter the positioning of your Mannequin after it's activated. Get Off The Stage came up all of once, so this portion is just theory, but by combining it with other nearby models and Bring on the Next Act, it increases the damage potential of your models or opens things up for a Showstopper, which makes pushing them into place for a possible Poison Gift do-able. Personally, I used it to juggle a model into Cassandra, who was running support for her and proceeded to finish them off. I've run her in several lists so far; right now, my favorite at 25SS was 2 Performers/Mannequins, Angelica, and 3 Doves. Gives me a cache of 5 to start with, manages to do some terrible things to my opponents and allows for relatively good out-activation early in the game. I've been trying to move away from Coryphee-centric lists as of late, so it's been fun experimenting with different stuff. So far, it's won against Nicodem, Ortegas, and Hamelin (That single use of GOTS? Rat Catcher. Worked wonders, it did. Suicidal move, but she was nearly dead anyways.) and lost against Rasputina. I think that more will be discovered as time goes on, but this is my experiences with her so far, along with a bit of theory here and there.

When: Saturday, September 10th, 6-10PM Where: GeekKon (http://geekkon.com/) in Madison, WI (Marriott Madison West 1313 John Q. Hammons Drive Middleton, Wisconsin 53562) First up, a little background; Geek.Kon is a convention that grew up right when I started going to university out here in the Midwest. It started off as a little fan-run convention inside one of the university's larger buildings. Well, as you can tell, they've grown a little bit bigger as time has passed. I noticed that, despite this convention's absolute love of steampunk, there was not a single Malifaux demo or tournament to be found. Deciding that this would be terrible, I decided that it would be best to quickly run. Games will be at 15SS, simply to show players the absolute basics and get them a bit of time on a table playing a game. We've got enough space and miniatures for about 6 players at a time, and I'll be frantically running around trying to help people out, although I should have some assistance and pre-printed documents to make my life a little less hectic. So, if you're interested in the game and looking for a demonstration, stop on by, and if you're a veteran player, stop and chat for a little bit. Selected Crews for this demo; Perdita Ortega Lady Justice (In her somewhat less-than-capitated form thanks to the Dead Justice box) Seamus Rasputina Von Schill As I'm expecting a few less "new" players, we've also got Nicodem, Ramos, and the Dreamer, to give the more experienced miniatures players a chance to mess around with something interesting that really shows the flair of Wyrd's system. Terrain is a mix between some scratchbuilt stuff and a nice little set-up made from Wyrd's own Terraclips, so that a nice little game can take place in the sewers of Malifaux. Hope to see a few people there!

Here's another narrative battle report, from a game of Nicodem vs C. Hoffman at 30SS. My opponent was really damn good, and it was one of the few times I've ever played against Hoffman, so it was quite an interesting match. I hope you enjoy reading this, as I enjoyed writing it. The units, strategies, schemes, and other events should be fairly clear. ------------------------------------------------------------------ "A Death In The Family" p { margin-bottom: 0.08in; } Nicodem's cane beat a steady counterpoint to the creaking of the wagon as he wandered into the Gremlin village. The wagon he was guiding contained a number of interesting corpses he intended to perform a few necrotic experiments on; certainly not the kind of cargo a man in his position should be caught with. The book in his possession was also remarkably illegal, detailing some interesting variations on the necromantic arts. Thankfully, the only companions who could testify against him were the undead creations he himself had animated, and he couldn't think of a single courtroom that would suffer the testimony of dead men such as these. He smiled at the thought of a lawyer attempting to cross-examine his Crooked Men, fuming at their groaning responses and demanding that they be held in contempt. The ridiculous image was almost enough to make him laugh. Night was falling fast as he walked along, and he could faintly see his vultures circling overhead. He delved into their minds for a moment, hijacking their vision to scan the roads ahead. Most of the upcoming village was clear, deserted by the uneducated Gremlins for some superstitious reason. It was why he took this route to his lab out near the bayou; no inbred simpletons to block his progress, and few Guild patrols to intercept hi- “Hmm . . . what's this, my shambling friends?” He furrowed his brow in concentration for a moment, taking full control of the eyes of one of his vultures. A flash of bronze caught his eye, soon resolving into the form of a Guild Watcher. It appeared to spot the vulture at the same moment, and began raising an alarm. Suddenly, a group of figures passed into sight. Leaning heavily on his cane, he tried to make out the leading figure. A small man, strapped into some kind of harness was clearly directing the automatons. “It seems that we've stumbled onto a Guild patrol,” he muttered to himself. “That Hoffman gentleman should not suspect me of any wrongdoing, so perhaps a quick escape would be in order. Wait . . . what is that beautiful creation?” Through the eyes of his vulture, he noticed a hulking figure trailing behind Hoffman, human only in origin. A large Gatling gun was strapped to one arm, and the other was a giant mechanical fist, hissing steam. The man, clearly disturbed at the presence of others, looked to be some wonderful fusing of man and machine. “An interesting experiment. I'd love to examine the magics used to reanimate it,” he remarked, turning to his undead escort. “Kill him. The body will make a most interesting object of study.” Nicodem paused for a moment, realizing that the large tome would only slow him down. He deposited it in the hollow of a stump, silently praying that the natural depression would both hide the book from a casual search and keep the delicate pages protected from the damp and chill of the approaching night. Standing up straight and brandishing his cane in one hand, he surveyed his troops. “Very well, men. The object is simple; protect this wagon, kill that beautiful fusion of man and machine for study, and prevent those prying eyes from locating this rather valuable book.” His creations groaned in agreement, hefting their weapons. The undead driver spurred on the rotten horses which pulled the wagon, and all of his creations seemed eager to please him. Though he knew these creatures had only the dimmest glimmering of thought, Nicodem was amused by their eagerness to follow the orders of their master and creator. It was now time for a bit of a scuffle. He swept his long coat around him, and prepared to face off against this setback in his quest for necromantic knowledge. --------------------------------------------- Hoffman was not enjoying this particular patrol. The original quarry, a rumored Arcanist spy, had escaped into the bayou. The sight of his brother, his form warped and distorted by the surgeries done at the hands of Doctor Ramos. He was far from the proud man he once was, and Lucius's orders to take him along on this patrol only served to deepen his hatred for the Arcanist scum who had done this to Ryle. The only gain had been the recovery of the spy's book of contacts, hastily left in his flight from justice. “Damn that Lucius, and damn that Arcanist spy,” he said to the Guardian with him. He knew it wouldn't respond, but was comforted by its reassuring bulk. His toolkit scuttled behind him, eager to assist in any spot-repairs he might require, returning a measure of peace to his mind. At least these machines would never betray him. The Watcher he had set on a wide scout patrol suddenly dived down, and he knew that something had to be wrong. There was no rumored Arcanist presence in the area, so he wondered for a moment what it could be. Landing lightly on his arm, the Watcher proceeded to display an image from across the village. Undead. There was no mistaking that shambling gait. Six figures stood around a large wagon which trundled slowly forward along an ancient and rut-torn path. Three of them appeared to be wearing straw hats, a pair of swords strapped to their sides. Most likely reanimated Nipponese corpses; Hoffman vaguely recalled a report from Lady Justice to the effect that these were prized soldiers to the Resurrectionist movement. The other two looked to be miners, their bodies still twisted by the fatal accident that had likely killed them. The last man was . . . Nicodem? Hoffman reviewed the image. Yes, the man walking along was clearly the Guild's chief undertaker, his mechanical leg poking out slightly from his long, black coat. That cane of his tapped on the ground as he turned to the reanimated corpses, apparently giving them some sort of orders. He was enraged. Was it not enough that one movement sought to undermine the authority of the Guild, nearly killing his brother and creating hidden enemies at every turn? This truly was a rotten city, and the corruption clearly went to the very center of the only organization willing to keep order. “Kill them,” he spat at his constructs. “Kill them all! Don't let a single one of those monstrosities escape from the justice of the Guild!” Hoffman dropped the book and the remainder of supplies. These foul creatures and their traitorous master would likely be uninterested in these items, but it would be best if they remained out of the hands of the enemy. “Advance!” he cried, spurring on the hounds he had been reluctantly convinced to take along. He was thankful for the assistance they could give; their ability to bury the corpses of the freshly dead might forestall the magics of that Resurrectionist monster. Ryle groaned, shambling forward, and the battle was joined in earnest. ---------------------------------------- Nicodem walked forward, maneuvering past the low wall the blocked most of his forces from a clear line of sight to the Guild patrol. He was unsure whether or not he'd been spotted yet, so as a precaution, he muttered a few words of power and tapped the ground with his stick. Responding to his call, a sickly fog rose from the ground, covering him from prying eyes and likely ruining the aim of anyone attempting to take a quick shot at his lanky frame. The rest of his forces advanced behind him, fanning out to protect the wagon and its precious cargo. His creations would protect it to the end of their un-lives, sacrificing their pointless existence to keep this safe. He enjoyed this loyalty; so much more dependable than any death-fearing human minions. He watched as Hoffman's forces advanced. True to his reputation, Hoffman was surrounded by the constructs whose presence he reportedly enjoyed more than humans. Less witnesses to his crimes, he supposed. That magnificent brute Ryle, however . . . he was advancing into the ruins of an ancient building. Nicodem was impressed at the creature's movements; whoever rebuilt that man clearly had a skill and passion for his work that might exceed that of his companion, Doctor McMourning. He desperately wanted to examine the corpse after neutralizing the threat it might pose. Hoffman appeared to be drawing strength from the constructs around him, and the man turned to face the wall of fog that hid Nicodem's form from prying eyes. “Damn you, Nicodem! How could you betray the Guild like this?” Nicodem cursed. He'd been recognized. No matter. He'd simply leave as few living witnesses as possible, then animate the corpses for convenient disposal in this god-forsaken bog. Might as well respond to the man. Even though he needed to kill the man and circumspectly dispose of the body, there was no need to be impolite. “Mister Hoffman, I presume? And I believe that you've come with the remains of your brother?” Hoffman, clearly agitated at the mention of his brother's reduced form, immediately yelled back, “So, you were a viper in our midst the entire time! I'll kill you, and put an end to those disgusting abominations!” “I welcome you to try, good sir. Personally, I would be satisfied with you allowing me on my way, but as you seem to be quite insistent on my death at your hands, I have no choice but to defend myself. I must also state my intentions to examine the corporeal remains of that wondrous fusion of man and machine that is your brother.” Hoffman was silent, his rebuttal choked down at the shock and anger he felt at the threats against his brother. This monster needed to die, along with the horrible forces he brought with him. ----------------------------------------------- The combat began in earnest as one of Nicodem's vultures fluttered to the ground. Concentrating briefly, he channeled a spell through the bird, and felt as the waves of decaying energy washed through it. It opened its beak in a harsh croak, spitting forth a beam of corruption and filth at Ryle. The beast, startled by the sudden assault from an unexpected angle, failed to dodge in time, his flesh visibly withering. A wave began to spark off of him, but a quick gesture from Hoffman suppressed the energy. Whatever passed for a mind in that tortured creature was enraged. He knew that the birds had harmed him, and so the birds must die. Opening up with a salvo of automatic fire, he shot at the other vulture, the bullets ripping into it and sending gore-soaked feathers flying everywhere. The beast died instantly, a croak silenced by Ryle's weapon. He then turned his weapons on the nearest targets. The first to be shot at was one of the reanimated miners, hiding behind a low wall. The shots went wide as the Crooked Man twisted, its broken spine bending far past what a living human being would be capable of. Ryle then turned his gun to one of the zombified samurai standing near Nicodem. This shot rang true, and a spray of ichor and necrotic fluid arose. The trained Guild hounds were quick to run to the corpse of the vulture, burying it to deny Nicodem access to the creature's fleeing spirit and body. They growled, defending the creature's body from the horrifying magics of the Resurrectionist's art. The other constructs were spurred on by Hoffman, walking into full sight of Nicodem and his undead cohorts. Concentrating, Hoffman sought the mechanical portions of his brother's mind and spurred them on, urging him to take a few more shots at those foes. They sparked wide, causing nothing more than a minor injury to one of the Crooked Men. Finally, Nicodem acted. He walked forward, shooting a spray of decay and death at Ryle. The shot went wide as he dived to the left, successfully avoiding the painful magics streaming forth from his cane. One of the Crooked Men suddenly surged forward, aiming its pick at Ryle. Calling upon the pain of its final memories, buried deep beneath the earth and screaming for help, it collapsed the ground leading to Ryle. The ground collapsed beneath him, driving sharp splinters of stone into his legs. More ground collapsed around him, almost striking Hoffman and his constructs. Ryle charged, grabbing the vulture who had struck him with a spell and crushing it in his mechanical fist. He was on a rampage, having finally killed the irritating creatures which had struck him. His torn psyche was blinded by rage, and it was only with the greatest of effort that Hoffman could control his brother. The rest of Hoffman's forces advanced forward, moving as a single body thanks to his mental control. The Guardian, spurred on by his orders, sent up an anti-magic aura, disrupting the spellcasting of the Resurrectionist and his dead minions. The two hounds, moving to the flanks, charged towards Nicodem and his bodyguard. One of them was intercepted by the sword-wielding zombie advancing towards Hoffman, and the other engaged Nicodem and his remaining Crooked Man. ----------------------------------------------- Thing were not going well for Nicodem. He was surrounded, the Guild was proving more resilient than he had expected, and the wagon, though well-protected, was stalled in its progress through the village. That damnable Guardian had ruined his last attempts at spellcasting; he took the time to silently curse Criid and her influence on the Guild's tactics against magic-users such as himself. He'd spent a bit of energy to strengthen the fragile connection between the bodies and spirits of his reanimated forces. That, at least, was a familiar enough action to him that even the magic-oppressing aura of that Guardian was unable to stop him. The dog snapping at his heels was certainly an annoyance. He took a moment to smack it with his cane, giving it a savage blow. The blow would have likely felled the creature, but the Guardian intercepted most of it, diverting most of the force into the construct's heavy armor. Finally, he tried to focus his energies into a spell, attacking the very life force of Hoffman and attempting to freeze the blood in his veins. The magics died as soon as the final syllable left his lips, disrupted by the Guardian's warping force. “A fine force you've brought today, Mister Hoffman. I applaud their hardiness, but I must protest their accursed tenacity.” “The abominations following you are putting up a fight,” came the quick reply. “Surrender now, and I'll kill you before you need to face the Guild's justice.” “I must respectfully decline your generous offer; I'm quite fond of my continued existence.” With that, one of the reanimated samurai charged the Guardian, seeking to destroy the construct. The other two split up, the first running towards Ryle with a groan on its decaying lips, and the second striking at the Guild hound snapping at it. A quick swing at the hound brought a cry of pain to its lips. Finally, the Crooked Man acted, summoning forth its pain once again. It channeled that pain into another spell, this time digging a dangerous pit next to Hoffman and his constructs. They were all nearly sucked into it; the Guardian's feet were trapped, seizing some internal mechanism and paralyzing it. Ryle's response was nearly instantaneous. He charged the Crooked Man, pulping its skull in a single massive blow. Before the undead creature fell to the ground, it swung a savage blow at him, the rusty pick finding purchase in Ryle's armor-plated hide. As its body slowly cooled on the ground, the pick remained embedded in Ryle's body, catching on some important mechanism and freezing him in his tracks. The Crooked Man guarding the wagon struck at the hound attacking Nicodem. Its shovel struck home, staving in the skull of the hound and throwing its battered body to the ground. The zombified samurai, seeing an opening, struck at the other hound, cleaving its head from its shoulders in a single blow. Nicodem was enraged at the loss of his precious undead creations. Calling upon a magic that was deeply familiar to him, he seized the fleeing spirits of the dead dogs and his undead minions, forcing them into long-buried bodies of men who had been claimed by the bayou before. They rose up from the ground, clawing away at the choking mud which had once buried them. Several of them immediately fell victim to the trap laid by the Crooked Man before its death. Three undead feet were trapped in the muck, frozen in place by the mud. Nicodem himself tripped, his mechanical leg failing him and causing him to catch a painful blow to his arm. “Stupid undead creature,” he muttered to himself, not caring if Hoffman heard his annoyance towards his undead minions. “Beginning to see the error of your ways, undertaker?” Hoffman spat, keeping himself propped up in the arms of his ambulatory toolkit. “Not at all, my machine-loving friend. Beginning to worry about your precious constructs?” “I'll kill you yet, and remove the taint of your foul magics from the soil of Malifaux,” he shot back, almost calm in the face of the dangers he faced. Nicodem was impressed that the man could remain so controlled this near to his death. He gestured, sending his minions towards the Guardian that had so vexed him. Ryle had managed to finish off one of his zombified samurai, so he called upon the magics to reanimate its body and send it against the paralyzed Ryle. Its sword came around in a vicious arc, stabbing into Ryle and cutting his unnaturally-prolonged life short. His hulking frame collapsed to the ground, provoking a cry of outrage from Hoffman. “You killed my brother, you bastard! Never mind Guild justice, I'll end your life myself!” His other samurai zombie rained a torrent of blows upon the Guardian, finally managing to chip away its armor and sending the construct crashing to the ground. It was clearly broken beyond repair, and Hoffman saw this. Pushed to the limits of his endurance, something inside Hoffman snapped. Surrounded by the undead, filled with rage, and distraught with the death of his brother, he let forth a cry of primal fury and reached out with his mind to the remains of the his brother and the Guardian. Seeking the self-destruct mechanisms, he tripped them, setting off a chain of explosions. All of Nicodem's reanimated samurai were consumed by the blasts, falling to the ground with their unlife extinguished. Nicodem himself was nearly caught in one of the explosions, saved only by the timely intervention of one of the mindless undead he had raised. Hoffman was engulfed in several minor blasts, the shrapnel leaving several bleeding furrows across his arms. He ignored them, too intent on murdering the man who had led to his brother's death. “Kill my creations, would you? Then die, you crippled fool!” Nicodem aimed his cane at Hoffman, firing wave after wave of necrotic energy towards the frail mechanic. He crushed a pair of soulstones, each one of them strengthening the deadly waves streaming towards Hoffman. He managed to deflect one of them, saving himself from the worst of the damages. Hoffman was badly injured, and so he reached out with his mind, grabbing the will to survive from his attending Watcher just as the pick of a Crooked Man smashed its wings and dropped it to the ground. Surrounded by the undead, half-dead, and with nothing to survive, he held up his hands. “I surrender, you bastard.” Nicodem paused. The mindless undead were swarming Hoffman, but he called them off with a wave of his hands. It appears that the day was won. He'd managed to kill that brother of Hoffman's for examination, his wagon was proceeding to its destination, and it appears Hoffman hadn't even had a chance to look for his tome of forbidden lore. A wave of his cane, and the undead forces began wandering towards the wagon. Hoffman, his toolkit attending him, uncurled from the crouch he had adopted and glared angrily at Nicodem. Walking forward, leaning on his cane, Nicodem stopped in front of Hoffman, offering him a hand. He smiled, content in his victory. “Perhaps a short word is in order, Mister Hoffman,” he said, a genial tone entering his voice. “Why should I speak with you, monster?” “I possess the art to save your brother, but only if you are willing to work with a 'monster' such as myself,” he replied, wandering over to Ryle's cooling body, torn and shattered from the explosions. “With your mechanical expertise and my mastery of life's arts, we can repair his body.” Hoffman stood silently, pausing to turn and watch the undertaker's wagon as it trundled off into the distance. “Now, now, Mister Hoffman,” Nicodem continued, clicking his tongue. “Time is of the essence if you wish for your brother to live. I cannot recall the spirit in any recognizable form if it has departed for a lengthy period of time. I see now that he is mainly a creation of the mechanic's art, and so bears little interest to a man such as myself. Now, what do you say?” “What do you want from me in return, monster?” Prodding the body with a cane, Nicodem answered without turning. “Only your silence. Keep my secret, and he lives. Warn the Guild or jeopardize my position, and you will find my cooperation to be somewhat less than complete.” Torn between his desire for justice and loyalty to his brother, Hoffman hesitated before replying. “What's to keep me from betraying you?” “A little necromantic trick. The spell will be complex, and require periodic renewal. In return for my assistance, your brother lives. If you betray me, his time will run out quickly.” “I've no choice, monster. Save him, and I'll let you go. Betray me,” he finished, “and the Guild will be looking for a new undertaker.” “Very well, Mister Hoffman. Let us begin,” Nicodem replied as both men set to work repairing the remains of Ryle. ------------------------------------------------ Several weeks later, Nicodem decided to pay a visit to Hoffman. He'd been bluffing when he claimed additional magics were required to keep Ryle's shattered body going, but it was a good opportunity to study the creature without fear. It also kept Hoffman from revealing him to the Guild, and a man would remain loyal so long as he had fear. He stepped into the man's workshop, ducking under the remains of the Guardian which had vexed him so. Hoffman was hunched over a dog-like construct, elbow-deep in its innards and fiddling with some no-doubt damaged mechanism. Hearing the click of Nicodem's cane and the whine of his mechanical leg, Hoffman stood up, assisted by the powered frame attached to him. “Mister Hoffman, I assume our arrangement stands?” Hoffman sighed. “I have no choice. I hate you for what you've done, but we'd both be doomed if news of this gets out.” Nicodem smiled. “I'm glad to hear that. Now, let me have a look at your brother . . .”

Played a game with my showgirls a couple weeks back, and the events were so entertaining, I decided to write it up as a proper story. I hope the events are followable, and that you can get the gist of things. 30SS, my Showgirls versus my opponent's Ortegas. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present "A Funny Thing Happened On The Way Through a Gremlin Village" OR "Colette v Perdita; Damn Those Birds" ----------------------------------- “You're kidding, right?” Perdita stood in the main Guild office, holding the newest bounty posting sent down by the Governor. Rather than the usual hardened criminal or rumored Neverborn menace, the document bore the likeness of the notorious owner of the Star Theater, Colette DuBois. The desk worker merely sighed before responding, “Yes, I'm certain that the posting is correct. It came straight from the Governor's desk, bears his signature, and indicates that she is to be taken care of as discreetly as possible. Perdita was torn between laughing at the absurdity of the situation and throttling the little man for giving her such an idiotic task. “Do y'all think I'm some sort of idiot? She's an entertainer and parlor magician! Why don't you send some of those lazy guard slobs who barely manage the Neverborn who make it past the patrols I lead to arrest her in that ridiculous theater of hers?” “It's not that easy,” he replied with another weary sigh. “She has clear and well-documented connections to the Miners and Steamfitters Union, a visible presence in the community, and more witnesses in that theater than anyone wants to allow. If anyone suspected foul play, then there would be more rioting miners than every unit of guard could handle.” “She's a spoiled, perfumed dandy, and about as dangerous as a dead gremlin!” She shook the piece of paper in his face angrily. “If your family wants continued support from Guild resources, then you will deal with this assignment, and you will deal with it discreetly.” “Fine,” Perdita said as she stomped out of the office, taking her hat and slamming the door as loudly as possible. The clerk sighed once again before continuing with the mound of paperwork on his desk. “I hope she realizes what she's getting into.” ----------------------------------- “Cancel the shows for the next three days! We're going on an expedition!” Cassandra turned from the collapsing box she was working on to watch as Colette practically danced around the stage, waving a thick sheaf of papers excitedly. “Cass, you won't believe the intelligence I just received! An agent just reported in about a rather interesting find in the remains of a gremlin village. An old standing stone has just been deciphered, indicating that a cache of artifacts was buried beneath the place. Just get the ritual right, and the spot will glow!” She nearly pitched off the stage with her last exclamation, clearly excited at the prospect of rifling through some new treasures. Cassandra dropped her tools and reached out to catch her teacher before she managed to actually hurt herself. Satisfied that she was safe, she responded to the exuberant woman, “Sounds like a great idea, but we can't close down. Big crew is getting in from the new mines up north, and our doctoral associate mentioned that someone needed to be here to receive the materials he'll be sneaking in through the concealed entrance.” Colette started to pout at that. “Oh, come on, Cassie. Adventure! Excitement! Perhaps even a new show idea. I'm sure some of the boys would like a humorous revue about an expedition up into the bayou's edge. We could work in a few costume changes; maybe a modified miner's outfit, or some of those fur cloaks the mountain folks use . . . “ Rolling her eyes, Cassandra responded, “Okay, I didn't want to say it, but are you sure this isn't a trap? Criid got a fairly good look at you before she was knocked out, and one of those dreadful Stalkers made it away from our last encounter. The Guild could be dangling a prize like this just to trick you.” “Cass, Cass, Cass . . . it's an expedition, not a jaunt down to the 'vox station for an interview! I'll have a full bodyguard with me,” she said, pausing with a finger on her chin. “Perhaps that Johan fellow Victor is always telling me to bring along. He's a bit . . . crude, but he's a good fighter, and I'm sure the sight of a pretty gal like me will drive him to fight even harder.” “Hey! It's my job to act like the flighty, defenseless woman!” “All right, all right. Think you can handle running the Star for a few days, Cass?” She smirked before responding, “You mean I don't already do that?” ---------------------------------------------------- Santiago spit on the dusty ground, growling out, “Now, tell me again why we're sitting out here, waitin' for some prancin' party of lazy, do-nothin' townfolk with no business bein' in the wilderness rather than watchin' the border and homestead like we should be!” Francisco and Ninõ stood with their arms folded behind him, their impassive faces silently asking the same question. She glared at her cousin, “Just keep an eye out and your weapons ready. We're here to neutralize or kill her, and I'll be damned if the Ortegas can't handle a pampered magician. Francisco, keep an eye on Papa; Ninõ, eyes on the path they'll be takin'.” She stalked around, checking the barricades. The site was ideal for her purposes; there were plenty of lines of fire and good barricades against any counter-charges they might mount. The terrain wasn't the reason she'd chosen this site for the ambush, however; she knew that her target was rumored to have Arcanist ties, and so a site with a dead magic zone had been located. A few quick rumors later by an Arcanist informant with a desire to keep every single one of his limbs on the same side of the Breach as the rest of him, and the trap was baited and set. Suddenly, Ninõ was next to her. “Movement. The target, along with five other figures. Three of them match that of those mechanical performers she uses. The fourth is a woman, and the last one appears to be a man carrying a hammer.” “Thanks, Ninõ. Good eyes. Positions, people!” Santiago spit again. “Mind tellin' the rest of us what to expect?” Perdita responded quickly. “First off, keep your damn voice down. Judgin' by the information we've gotten, the dummies are no threat; the things are slow, but hard to damage. Not much use in combat, however. She's got her girls trained in a bit o' magic, and I damn well expect you all to keep yourselves from getting' distracted should they flash a little leg. The last one sounds like Johan; works for the Union, but doesn't take well to orders. Just keep your wits about.” ------------------------------------------------ Josephine, the showgirl forced by Colette to go on this crazy expedition, wasn't happy. It was far too hot out, the village they were coming up on looked abandoned, and that dreadful man Colette had brought along had her scared for her safety. Fortunately, it wouldn't be too long before - A single shot rang out. “Colette DuBois, by th' authority given to me by the rightful government of Malifaux, you are to surrender yourself immediately! Should you attempt to resist arrest or flee, you will be neutralized with extreme prejudice!” Colette seemed nonplussed. “Hmm. Guess Cassie was right; it was a trap.” Another shot. “By your lack of response, you are indicating that you are unwilling to surrender and thus will be taken care of. Please inform your companions that they are not targets, and should they leave, they will not be pursued!” She glanced around to the rest of her crew. “Well, I don't suppose any of you want to flee?” Josephine cautiously raised her hand. “Double pay change your mind?” Her hand went down. Colette smiled at that. “Well, I guess it's time to get started. It's our job to make sure that none of these Guild fools make it out from this insult to us. Finish up the ritual, and Johan?” He grunted. “Make sure that I don't comply with their request to surrender or die, all right?” she said, her grin growing larger. A third shot. “Your companions' failure to leave has indicated that they will be held as accomplices to your actions, and thus will face the full penalty of the law!” Colette finally shouted back, “Well, ladies and gentlemen, I guess it's time for a show. May I present to you a little drama I like to call 'Colette's Daring Escape', a perennial favorite of mine!” ----------------------------------------- Perdita was grimacing. This was supposed to be an easy job, and that stupid woman was screwing it all up by standing and fighting. At least she hadn't brought anything particularly dangerous with her. She began barking orders at her family. “Ninõ, get in position! Francisco, cover our sides and start heading around that building. Santiago, start walking to cut them off. And let Papa out; he'll find a target!” She watched as a flare of mystic power sparked up near the group of showgirls. Squinting, she saw that a pair of the mannequins had started running towards them. Far from the clumsy gait the things had been exhibiting earlier, they were moving with balletic grace, steering towards something on their flank. That didn't look good. The woman traveling with Colette split off, as well. She was walking towards the center of the village, trailed closely by her attending mannequin. Clearly, the two worked as a pair. May as well have Papa Loco deal with them; they'd make good cover. “Papa! Go get the girl and the mannequin, and damn well take care of it now!” He ran off, half-crazed and already preparing to light the dynamite he always had with it. He was a damn fine asset, to be sure, but his unpredictability and tendency to blow up the scenery made it a constant risk. If only that sanitarium hadn't . . . She caught herself before she grew too distracted by her thoughts. It looked like Colette was releasing . . . doves? She was confused for a moment; did this woman seriously think this was a show? As if a couple of mechanical birds could astonish her! ------------------------------------------------ Colette was getting nervous. The one with the dynamite was running towards Josephine, spurred on by shouts from that cowboy woman, Perdita, and her siblings were forming up. Fortunately, they seemed more confused than threatened by the Coryphee approaching them, and were forming up to repel a charge. They were going to be surprised when the blades came out. She pulled a soulstone from her bag. Time to start getting serious. “Now, if you'll take a look, you'll see there's nothing up my sleeve. And . . . voila!” With a flourish, a mechanical dove sprung from her hat. “Now, go get the cowboys!” ----------------------------------------------- Perdita was getting nervous. Those mannequins were moving far faster than the reports indicated. Another burst of light came; they had apparently continued the ritual started earlier, and were moving to charge her kin. As they danced forward, wicked-looking curved blades sprung from their wrists. Looks like this wasn't a distraction; it was the main assault. “All right boys, form up! Take your shots as you get 'em, and take those damn things down!” They were moving far too fast, and before the last word had left her throat, they bore down on Santiago, taking a quick cut at him. He was slow to dodge, not expecting the sudden assault, and took a nasty wound on the arm. “Goddamn dummies! Take 'em down!” Gunshots sparked on their reinforced bodies, tearing their dresses to shreds. Francisco stepped in quickly, and with a vicious cut of his sword, took the head off one of them. The other paused for a second, long enough for Santiago to finish it off with a blow from his Peacebringer. He was looking annoyed, and turned to Perdita. “Easy job, huh? That damn thing nearly took my arm off! We better move, in case they have more surprises like that!” She grunted in agreement. What looked like an easy job was turning into quite the little scrap. Best finish off that woman quickly, before any more nasty surprises got her. -------------------------------------------- Josephine was feeling oddly calm in this whole battle. Sure, she was being charged by a madman with dynamite, but at least he was male. Time to polish off the old charm . . . Papa Loco paused mid-throw. This woman was oddly appealing, gesturing towards him. He couldn't hurt such a sweet creatu- The madness overtook him. He threw the dynamite in his hand, and watched as it glanced off the dummy, injuring both the woman and her dummy with the resulting explosion. He cackled with glee, secure in the knowledge that he was doing the right thing. Perdita had told him to be wary of their tricks! Dusting herself off, Josephine decided it was time to start playing hardball. “Oh, sir! You're simply too strong for me! Please, come closer, and I'll just have to give myself up to you!” she said, lifting her skirts likely and adopting her most helpless pose. Almost unaware of what he was doing, he walked forward, hypnotized by her sultry actions. She tittered slightly, and as soon as he was close enough, she fainted into his arms. He froze; it had been a long while since he'd seen a woman like this. Her voice dropping to a whisper, Josephine brought her lips in close. “Now, a kiss for my valiant arresting officer . . . “ Papa Loco felt the warmth of her lips on his neck. Suddenly, cold chills were running through him; something had to be wrong. He remember he was in a battle, and that this couldn't be right. “Poisoned lipstick, hon; a girl's best friend.” --------------------------------- Perdita watched as Papa Loco was distracted by that hussy in the dress. He froze up after she kissed him; something was clearly wrong. The mannequin following the girl suddenly struck out, needles suddenly jutting from its arms. It was clear that he wouldn't be conscious much longer. Best to cut losses, she thought. “Papa! Arm the dynamite! Take 'em with you!” Something in his brain must have heard her; he reached down with trembling hands and lit the fuses attached to the bundles of dynamite covering his body. She was saddened by the danger she was putting him in, but this had to be done. She'd like to see them get out of that one! --------------------------------- Colette saw her Coryphee destroyed by gunfire, and the old man getting seduced by Josephine. She hadn't noticed the dynamite he'd lit after being poisoned; a quick rescue was in order. “Ladies and gentlemen, for tonight only, I present the amazing disappearing lady!” Two blinding flashes later, and the old man was standing alone. The dynamite lit off, and he was knocked out by the blast, bleeding heavily. Guess he didn't expect that little teleport trick. ----------------------------------- “Damn it, Papa's down! Ninõ! Get your ass in there and use that damn rifle!” Perdita was annoyed. This wasn't going as planned. These damn fools were tougher than she thought they'd be. Thankfully, no one had lost their cool yet, and they were still following the plan. ----------------------------------- Ninõ was advancing slowly, and took the time to line up the big steamfitter in his sights. That bastard was going down. Two gleaming objects were approaching quickly. Those birds that woman had been releasing from her hat. He'd seen one of them attack Santiago, but hadn't caught what it had been doing. No matter; he had the target centered, and there wasn't a damn thing those birds could do. Suddenly, there was a weight on his rifle. One of them had perched there. It let out a mechanical chirp, and tilted its head quizzically. “Shoo! I'm working here!” Its beak opened, and a stream of playing cards poured forth, conjured by some inane magic trick. The second one was on him already, spewing cards as well. The last thing to pass through his mind before his consciousness fled was the thought that maybe these birds were a bit more dangerous than they appeared. --------------------------------------------- “Ninõ's down! Move! Move! Move!” Perdita yelled at her family, barking orders left and right. Colette and that hammer-wielding bastard were coming up fast. She paused to shoot a dove before it got too close; Ninõ had just demonstrated how dangerous the things could be when they got close. She took a shot at the woman and appeared to glance her, but before she could take another shot, there was a blinding flash of light. It skewed her reactions for a second, and by the time the air cleared, there was a mannequin standing in her place and rapidly moving to rejoin its companions. “Damn it, woman, stand still and let me shoot!” ------------------------------------------ Francisco skirted the edge of the battle, watching for his target. Fortunately, he spotted Johan around the same time he spotted him. Drawing his sword, he charged in and took a vicious cut at his head. It got through his defenses, and left the man looking a little dazed. “Come on, pendejo, if you're good enough.” Johan stepped back before taking a heavy swing with that hammer. It broke through Francisco's parry like a bullet through a bale of hay, and he found himself flat on his back, wondering how the hell anyone could hit that hard. Pulling himself to his feet, Francisco grimaced. The man was smiling and holding the hammer in a loose grip, obviously preparing for another charge. Can't let that happen . . . Francisco charged in again, feinting high. Johan brought his hammer up, biting on the feint, and Francisco quickly reversed the direction of the blade, bringing it around into a low stab. It caught him right in the gut, and he was starting to fall over. “Guess I'm gonna get to bring in that woman for the bounty. Too bad you couldn't protect her, eh?” Francisco gave a little flourish at that. It always paid to intimidate the brutes with a little finesse, and this one looked like he was going to fall down after that last hit. Finally, Johan spoke, his voice filled with anger. “Not today, cowboy. You're not getting at her while I'm up.” He took one more mighty swing, knocking Francisco back once more. He felt his consciousness trying to slip away, but managed to stand up, the wind knocked out of him. Johan took one more step forward before collapsing face-first in the dirt. He kicked him once. “Guess you didn't have what it takes.” ---------------------------------------------- Perdita stood facing Colette, prepared for the final showdown with this criminal. She was through taking the woman lightly, and was damn well going to put a bullet in her before the day was through. “Santiago! Get up here and help me!” she shouted, turning slightly to see what was keeping him. A ridiculous sight greeted her. One of those ridiculous doves was perched on Santiago's head, and it kept pecking at him whenever he tried to move. He took a couple of swats at it, but couldn't quite manage to dislodge the gleaming bird. Task at hand. Colette had her hands at her sides, in a showgirl's parody of the gunfighter pose. Her gloved fingers were delicately perched on a small sack, likely containing the soulstones the woman loved so much. “So, cowgirl, how about an old fashioned draw?” The woman was obviously trying to infuriate her. Perdita remained calm; it was a delaying tactic, and ridiculous or not, the woman was clearly a skilled magician. Bullets and magic flew between the two. Perdita saw at least two crushed soulstones at Colette's feet; she was burning through them like a wildfire, which meant she was clearly desperate. Both of them took a couple of hits, but were still standing. The sun was setting. Colette seemed to notice it, and grinned. “Well, my dear, it's been fun, but I think I've accomplished what I came here to do. I believe it's time for the grand finale!” With those words, there was a blinding flash of light and smoke covered everything in the village. When it cleared, they were all gone. She squatted on the dirt. Santiago came up to her, rubbing at the wounds on his head. “Damn showgirls,” was all she could manage. ------------------------------------- Two days later, Colette unceremoniously walked back into the Star, dumping a load of tomes and soulstone in the main office. Cassandra was surprised that she was still in high spirits; clearly, she had been in a fight. Colette sprawled on the chaise-lounge in the office, letting out a long breath. “Well Cassie, looks like you were right. It was an ambush, and they were gunning for my head. Made it out just fine, but the Coryphee could use some repair.” “You're sure in a good mood for someone who was targeted for assassination.” “Well, it's not like they succeeded . . . “ Cassandra stood up, slamming the account book shut. “You should take this a little more seriously, you know. Things are going to get a little more difficult.” Colette smiled. “Oh, come on; what's the worst that could happen?” -------------------------------------- Perdita stood in the Governor's office. She'd just given her report, and was waiting for the debriefing. The man seemed annoyed, but at this point, she didn't care; those damn showgirls had wounded her pride, and it was time to deal with the problem as soon as she could. Finally, he spoke. “Ms. Ortega, you failed to kill the criminal Colette DuBois. You are to take no further action until the situation has been resolved.” “Now wait here! I was given no information regarding how dangerous she was and -” He held up a hand. “Please, no. I am calling in a specialist. Your family will continue to receive Guild support in your endeavors to defend the borders from Neverborn attack.” She was silent. “Now, send in Criid. We have a little matter to discuss.” -------------------------------- VP total in the end was 3 to 0; Schemes really saved me from having to finish Slaughter. Oh, and for the record; my next game was against another player's Witch Hunter crew, wherein Colette took several flaming bullets to the face from Samael. So, I guess that particular Guild action was fairly successful. Working on a jailbreak-type scenario with the next game, and perhaps a write-up from the last one.