shawnreed343

I think this boils down to the fact that Seamus is undeniably an alternate reality Bill Clinton gone horribly, horribly wrong. XD

Little did y'all know the rest of the story, where Perdita obtained her limit break 'My name is Perdita Ortega. You killed my family. Prepare to die!' and whupped up, then had her family taken to Nicodem because they were only 'mostly' dead. XD

"THAT'S MY %&*£ING WIFE!!!!!!!!!" <-- best reason to begin a skirmish EVAR. XD Loved the write-up; great fun turning it into a story! Hope to see more in the future!

(author's note: Having aquired the rulebook last week, I came to realize how far off-track I was getting with some of my other fiction. Though I may revise my other story later, I've decided to write something much more in-tune with the pre-established information on Malifaux provided in the core rules. Hopefully, this won't have you going 'huh, what the heck is he talking about?'- and I shall attempt to provide a style somewhat similar to that found in the book. Thank you.) The Guild had cleared an entire train for the passengers. Additionally, the train was making the shuttle to Malifaux in the dead of night, far after normal operating hours. But the train contained a very special group of passengers. It was not making such an atypical run because these passengers had paid for the passage, nor was it making the trip because they held any special status. This train made the journey into Malifaux at such an unusual hour because the Guild had decreed the passengers a public safety hazard. No less than five life sentences were held by any single member, and whereas many prisoners sent to Malifaux were done so on a life sentence, these prisoners had special orders from the Lord Governor to be sent directly to the Hanging Tree. There was not a single Scrip to be found between them. First among the five who were bound was Dantelus Valar, who styled himself Emperor. Before being captured, he had created an underground empire around the dubious trade of refueling soulstones through the process of torture and murder, for a price. The only reason he had not been executed immediately was the legitimate concern that doing so would call down a storm of terrorist activity and the Guild had decided the wisest course of action would be to ship him to Malifaux where he would quietly ‘dissappear’. His hands and feet were bound together and bound to each other. Broad shouldered and heavily muscled, he bore tribal tattoos upon his back and shoulders of a dragon. His head was clean-shaven, and his expression was a carefully calculated blank slate that would rarely blink when watching someone or something. Sharp, angular finely chiseled features gave him an intensity that was difficult to ignore, and his flinty grey eyes were those of a criminal mastermind who believed himself possessed with power beyond mortal ken. Though of mixed heritage, many of his practices and style of rule had come from the Samurai and Ninja traditions of ancient feudal Japan. A number of these had been obtained from inspiration through time spent with his second in command. Ash Corbin. Dantelus didn’t know if it was his real name or taken for his profession. But years ago the improbable self-indenture of the cold-blooded Ten Thunders assassin had changed his life. Time and again, when his empire had been threatened, Corbin’s Katana and Wakizashi, known as Soulfire and Heart’s Blood, had touched down in the heart of the opposition like a bloody hurricane. The little albino oriental man was unsettling. He wore his hair long, coating the natural whiteness with oil and soot to turn it black. His long leather trench coat was coated in black shoepolish and shined until it was almost reflective. He spoke with a heavy accent, and had reflexes and senses at the pinnacle of human potential, combined with years of training and practice. With the red eyes of a true albino, the man had an otherworldly quality that could unsettle most. He was even more intricately shackled than Dantelus, having twice escaped custody in days prior and killing his captors. The man was also more loyal than the best trained hound, more trustworthy of having Dantelus’ back than Dantelus himself due to the ancient Japanese traditions that he followed. In the back of the train car holding the prisoners was an elderly man with a restraining mask bound in a straight jacket. Wild white hair stood out in all directions as though recently stuck in an electrical socket. This frail-looking man was known as Jujin R’Jaje, a criminally insane practitioner of magic that had traveled through a number of Sanitariums, each passing him on after discovering his habit of making ‘sacrifices’ and blood worship. Dangerously insane and unpredictable, he had for some reason volunteered for this, seeming fanatically eager to be sent to death at what he called ‘The Tree of Life’. Apparently a loose cannon, Dantelus nevertheless was stuck with him whether he liked it or not because of Jujin’s loyalty to the fourth passenger that somehow penetrated beyond his madness. Jacinta R’Jaje was Jujin’s daughter, who Dantelus might not have suffered to be with if she weren’t so talented and keen on pleasing him. Her thirst for power and sadistic streak occasionally served to aide him, though it just as often conflicted with his egocentric outlook and caused him headaches. The bitch was crazy. Crazy in a different way from her father, though. Less random and off-the-wall, just as fanatical, and more power hungry and bloodthirsty. She had long crimped brown hair gathered together at the nape of her neck. She would occasionally cast scandalous glances at the fifth passenger brazenly confident Dantelus wasn’t going to notice. Thick, long unruly black hair covered his head in dreads and massed in thick tangles over his shoulders, strings of the slowly spiraling stuff hanging in front of his face because he hadn’t bothered to shake them out of his eyes. It seemed to drape his head like a thick black hood, given more effect by the shadows it cast on his strangely tanned face, dark here, light there, seemingly at random. Except upon enough examination, an observer might have fit them to a particular pattern of hair hanging over his face during some time out in the sun. An unruly log of black chinhair seemed to extend his face and give him a drawn, somber appearance, supported by the rather permanent slight frown and often lowered brows. Piercing grey eyes might catch a small hint of light, like bits of flint, the rest in shadow, sunken behind the thick black brows. He might have seemed like some human version of an angry lion, or panther perhaps- the bit of ear showing through the hair or sharp nose reminding someone this individual was not in fact that sort of animal. The man called himself Gauss, and his body had a number of very old healed scars that could have been a pattern, or random- like tiger stripes, almost. Their onetime depth was hard to fathom, though some had healed not quite evenly, creating a subtle wrongness in the usual elevation of a man’s body. Yet he may have been attractive to women who would court danger, as muscles rippled and danced under a light sheen of sweat. Gauss was not a member of Dantelus’ empire, and other than actually being here, may well have not existed from any source Dantelus knew. What crimes he had committed were off any records. The guards were too nervous to patrol the aisle between the prisoners, instead giving hard stares through the door up front. Hand-held safety rods descended from the ceiling as the Grand Boundary would have been looming into view ahead. Bound as they were none of them would have been able to reach that high, and none of them tried. Jujin in the back was pounding his head excitedly against the seat in front of him. Dantelus simply braced himself against the seat in front with his knees. The train lurched, kicked and rocked, sparks flooding the air with a strange clear sharp smell like after a thunderstorm, yet so potent it stung to breathe it. He breathed it deeply. It was the breath of the dragon. Of power beyond mortal ken. And the pain of it would cleanse him, refuel him. Soon, he would kill them all, all who would chain the dragon. The train slowed, their arrival in Malifaux not even warranting a call from the conductor. The Guild probably intended to keep their arrival as secret as possible. Dantelus, however, felt that there was more to this than anyone present could guess. That this land, for some reason, wanted them to be here. The train came to a jerking, halting stop at last. The door at the front of the cabin opened, and the guild guard there barely peeked his head in. “All right you filth, get your asses out of the cabin and off the train!” he barked, and no sooner was a canister thrown into the cabin quickly filling it with noxious, stinging smoke. They were herded off the train like cattle. The hunched faltering posture Dantelus was forced to take by his restraints was humiliating. Before long they were all off the train, except Jujin. Watching the train filled with white gas that slowly leaked from the windows, Dantelus could hear his muffled and incomprehensible ranting somewhere in there, mixed with spurts of insane laughter and giggling. The Guild eventually sent four men with gas masks and shields that looked like boiler lids inside to get him. He was beaten out to the others but seemed hardly effected by it, his eyes shot with red from the gas, swirling with insanity. “Welcome to Malifaux, gentlemen. Lady.” Said a voice behind them. Dantelus turned to face the speaker. “It’s too bad your tour will be brief.” The man speaking to them was tall, with a hat that turned up at the sides. He wore a poncho slung about his shoulders and a number of belts and plates fastened around his legs. “So who do you think you are?” Dantelus replied flatly, with only the most subtle hint of hostility. “The name is Samael Hopkins. Think of me as the Sheriff. And I’m the last unlucky turn of events you’ll ever see. I’m here to supervise your hanging. And I can assure you, because I’m here, none of you will live to see tomorrow.” Dantelus’ eyes flickered past Samael for a moment, to a shadow of unusual proportions that had momentarily been leaning against a building at some distance, and now disappeared behind a building. His eyes came back to Samael, who turned his head somewhat as if making sure he wouldn’t be attacked from behind. “There are quite a few strange things in these parts. The one I get to show you is the Hangin’ Tree.” Samael’s mouth turned up sardonically in a lopsided smile. “I guess we don’t need to worry about you lot going insane in your last moments. Most of you are more than half there, from what I’ve heard. Well, no time to dilly-dally.” Guards formed lines on either side, forming up the group of prisoners in a tight formation. Austringers kept watch nearby in case the prisoners should try to escape. The pace was impossible to keep, nor did the brutal clubbings from the guards help any. Ten. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight… Soon enough Ash would have worked his way free of the restraints. Seven… The entire formation with Samael at the rear, rounded a corner. Dantelus, in the front, was one of the first to see. A man was leaning against the next building down, quietly whistling a tune. He pushed himself away as the group rounded the bend, and tipped his comically oversized hat slightly, speaking directly to Dantelus. “So you’re the bloke, eh? I figured you’d be taller. Well no hard feelings on ol’ Seamus now, but this might hurt a bit.” He said with a wink and the smuggest of expressions. The guild guards had stopped in surprise and only now thought to shout a warning. “Toodle-too.” Seamus said, waving his fingers and stepping inside the building as he pressed a big red button on a box in his other hand. Dantelus had time to think of how Malifaux was already bending to his will with someone having been sent for him. Then the building down the road directly in front of him erupted right at him in a massive fireball. (to be continued...)

XD That's how I meant to phrase it. But yeah, I was under the impression that Devour was a melee attack because it has the little claw symbol in the range.

I thought of another funny thing you can do with this list. Use the Jackalope as Hoarcat food. Devour it with a Pride, then get it back when the next Pride dies. XD

Some nice looking gamespace there! So I heard you mention a tournament on the 31st of October? I'd like to hear about that more... you mentioned details on the board. Not here, apparently?

Well, I was looking in the book and thinking about synergies. I came up with a list that, honestly, I don't know how practical the application would be, but seems like it could be a lot of fun. Marcus (+4SS) Miranda (7SS) Jackalope (1SS) Hoarcat Pride x4 (20SS) 1 SS cache The thought being that both Marcus and Miranda are capable of healing the Hoarcat Prides to keep their claws sharp (so to speak), that Miranda could become another Hoarcat Pride if necessary, and having multiple Hoarcat Prides moving at about 3" apart so that they can each devour ht 1 or 2 living models and heal themselves. Then the Jackalope can keep getting pushed around to tie up troublesome opponents in melee and allow the others to gang up on it or flee from it. Thing is, like I say, I don't know how well it would work in practical application. It seems like with melee expert and the potential of the rip throat trigger with consistently healed prides, there could be a lot of damage against some crews and evasive 3, harmless, and pass through would help a lot with objectives for VP. Thoughts?

I know it may sound like a heretical tactic, but against LCB, with a fast crew... why not simply run away from LCB? XD Run and shoot with the Ortegas, for example, or dodge and weave through terrain with Lillith; basically stay out of combat until you have the opportunity to get the first swing at him/it?

Thanks!

I still can't seem to get images to post. What am I doing wrong?

I'm infinately more pleased with how Sammael turned out compared to Sonnia. I'll need to strip Sonnia down later and try again. With Sammael, I'm happy as is- maybe a -minor- touchup or two. I really love how the base turned out, and the cloak is customized out of greenstuff. I painted him as I wanted him, then added the cloak, then painted that (so yes, his backside is fully painted even if you can't see it). I simply don't have any flat sealant anywhere around, so the camera flash is still bouncing off even the unvarnished areas- but that's the camera not the mini. I tell ya, having an actual brush of appropriate size is infinately, -infinately- better than trying to use a pin. o.O The purifying flame I started with Sonnia... so it already had some layers of paint on it, alas. I think I recovered it well enough for me, though. I know it looks a little sloppy by comparison, but I also think it looks better than Sonnia did. I will touch up around the base, to give more substance to the edges where the ground is- otherwise it's pretty much done- I don't want to break it down along with Sonnia unless I find something I know is greenstuff-safe.

Indeed, thank you -very- much for that brush tip. It just so happens I was able to get a desk lamp and some -proper- fine-tipped brushes earlier- and I've done a MUCH better Sammael Hopkins. I finished the initial painting, and decided to add a custom greenstuff cloak; so that's drying currently. When it's done I'll paint it and probably have new photos before the day is out. I also painted the Purifying Flame, which is fair enough- it's hard to get detail on flame. I'll need to find something to strip the paint on Sonnia (anyone know something good for stripping Citadel paint? I'm not sure what Citadel uses as a base) and start all over from scratch with her. But I feel much, much more confident now that I have the proper tools. I had wondered 'why the heck did I do so horribad??' Two reasons- I didn't have enough light, and didn't have a proper brush- except for the black and varnish, she was entirely done with needle. o.O

Thanks for those tips. I've come to realize for one that, though it seems small, the brush I have is far too big. (I'm going to trim it tonight) I also bought a few more materials tonight- brown and red inks, skull white, and sunburst yellow. I also need a proper desklamp rather than trying to use the ceiling light behind me. Last time I painted minis, it was Necrons for 40k. Yeah, there's not a lot of special technique in that; though I tell you, a few thin white lines down the green tubes of the gauss weapons looks badass.

Ok, I'll say right off the bat that I'm not happy with this and have -already- been touching up. Really, I've realized I have insufficient lighting in my workspace and need to relocate. On the flipside, I figure I'd show you my *sigh* sloppy looking version 1. http://shawn-reed.deviantart.com/#/d2yuqav and http://shawn-reed.deviantart.com/#/d2yuqjj Does anyone have any tips for how to do the super-fine details? Like eyes? Because I'm finding that a needle won't hold any paint half the time, and that when it does the tiniest drop is too big. I'd appreciate any tips in this from anyone with experience. '

Hey everyone- been reading this after, for reasons I can't quite fathom, AvatarForm pointed the thread out to me. *helpless shrug* It did get my creative juices flowing, though... so I decided to try coming up with my own idea for the model. Tell me what you think. [ame] [/ame] Here's a great image for it. ;P Scarecrow Soulless, Construct, Totem (Neverborn) Wk/Cg 0/0 Ht 2 WP 7 CA 6 (crow) DF 2 WD 4 Harvester Rg /// 2 Cb 5 Dg 2/3/4 Angry Crows Rg 8” Cb 5 (crows) Dg 1/1B/3BB Companion (Dreamer) Harmless Hunter Immune to Morale Checks Magic Resistant 2 Terrifying Made of Straw: Opposing (A) and magic attacks gain [+] against this unit. Flock of Crows: When this model is hit by a melee or ranged attack, place 2 50mm bases adjacent to this model. These count as hindering terrain and block LOS. Remove them at the Start Closing Phase. (Triggers) Cb(crow, crow) Eat Your Fill/Padding the Nest: After damaging defender with an Angry Crows strike, if the target is killed by this attack, heal Scarecrow to full health. Ca(crow, mask) Foul Wind: (A) 3. After moving this model with ‘But it was just there!’ enemy models receive -1 WP until the Start Closing Phase. (Spells) (0) But it was just there! (CC 15/Rst: -/Rg: 10”) Move this model to any point with LOS from this model within 10”. (1) Magical Extension (CC: */Rst: */Rg: *) This spell may be cast only once per activation. Cast one of the connected Master’s (1) spells. During this casting, this model may use a Soulstone to change its starting total.

*chuckles* I also really like that Wendigo. I know how small the model is, so that's an amazing amount of detail work you've done. But indeed, I can almost -hear- him going 'WEEEEEEEEEE!' XD I also like the bits of snow, especially on 'Tina's base. Mind if I ask how you did the snow?

Sept …14th? 15th? I’ve obviously lost track of time. She kept me in there long enough I thought she had perhaps changed her mind about wanting to talk to me. But of course, no sooner do I give up the ghost than Frosty the Snowman comes and opens the door to my cell. His face kindof reminded me of Stone Face, all square-jawed and such, and I found myself wondering distractedly how Stone Crow and Tweety were doing. Whether they had been captured also or not, heck, I didn’t know. And I was almost getting concerned. Well, Frosty was even less talkative than Stone Face, but punctual with his gestures. Indicating I should march myself down the hall, I recovered my dignity and started to wend my way up a long curving hallway with occasional gothic windows made of what I suspect to be clear ice. The floor thankfully wasn’t slippery, though, decorated with a shaggy fur carpet of imperious length that must have been custom tailored. I guessed Jackalope fur, pure and white as it was. Anyway, I got led around and finally arrived at something like a luxurious chamber. Grand old fireplace, plush furniture, beautiful ice sculptures, and a rather beautiful array of softly diffused lighting. All the ice created unique little glows here and there and several diminutive little ice-elves or imps or such were working on carving a larger-than-life detailed relief of ‘Tina. I considered asking who it was for and if I could have one of her sculptures, but checked myself before appearing stupid. Somehow I doubt Frosty or the ice-sculpture would hold up long in California without ‘Tina’s ol’ magic hat nearby. Oh, and Stone Face was there. Looking plum as you please like nothing had happened. I scowled and glared and frowned enough he finally decided to ask “Are you recovered?” “I’ve been cooped up in a freezer-box for the past half a week. How about you? Eating grapes and olives and sipping ’85 vintage? Seriously, what kind of question is that?!” I exclaimed. He frowned, then nodded. “Recovering. Hmm. My English… what were the words? Sick from the cold? Sick with the cold? Sick, sick of the cold. Yes. She said you had flu of the coop.” I slapped my forehead. But I think I exercised remarkable patience, considering I wanted to kick him in his little stones. “Cold and flu are different, bud. Totally different. And you’re mixing your words up. So. So much.” He shrugged. Frosty seemed to be getting impatient, eager to lead on. So leading me to what I presumed to be the heart of the castle, I came into something like the inside of a Cathedral done in ice. Simply breathtaking. Not just from the cold. I mean, that place radiated chill. Like the heart of winter had taken up residence below the ice. And yes, the floor here was black ice, and the top of the lake below. Which, let me tell you, was a very eerie feeling, to walk out over what seemed like an endless pit descending into darkness. There were no fires. Everything was lit with wispy sorts of glow, like fireflies except in arcane blues and greens all hazy like the northern lights. The walls and parts of the floor were done up in swirly runes that the lights would sometimes catch into and pulse along. “Welcome, Farrahn Moriaden.” She said. “If you are ready to put aside your childish misconceptions and taunts, I have a proposition for you.” It was borderline, those cute little jokes that were coming to mind would have been perfect, but she had my curiosity. I mean, it’s ‘Tina. Lock me up for the better part of a week then ask for my help? I expected she was ready with ludicrous compensation, so I was indeed curious. “So the time in my cell was for you to check my credentials? Dental history? Work up your courage to admit to needing to ask for my help?” She took a breath. “You are not my first choice, Farrahn Moriaden. You chose to estrange me years ago and I have left you alone with respect for that choice. Fate has brought you into my hands once again, when you stole my soulstones, and so Fate has provided this choice for me. And it is not easy for me to make. I do not feel that I can trust you, Farrahn Moriaden. … Not any more.” That serious side of me tuned in. I can be a joker most of the time and I know it, but I don’t like the idea of mocking someone being vulnerable. “So you did need to work up your courage. … I suppose I forgive you, then.” There was a silent moment, the lights making it seem like her expression was changing even though it stayed the same. “Yes. If by courage you mean a debate with myself over the wisdom of asking you what I am about to.” I perked up. An admission that I was right? From ‘Tina? “Which would be?” “Work for me.” One of my eyebrows went up. I’m not sure how I looked. Probably surprised though I hope I didn’t react horrified-like. It wasn’t really that bad a question, just I’d never heard the like before. Caught me a bit blind-side, really, though I recovered fast. “And what sort of work are you proposing?” She tilted her head back, looked up towards a roof so high above it was shrouded in darkness. “Have you ever heard the words ‘Til Gran Kythera Dow’ before?” Thing is, as she said it, I swear there was something like a great icy sigh in that otherworldly room, frigid as the north pole in winter. I fixed her with a serious look. “Can’t say as I have. But it means something to you. Care to share that with me?” “No, Farrahn Moriaden, I believe it may be better for you not to know. But in this you are correct. Those words are distinct.” “How am I supposed to work for you if, like I think you’re thinking is going to be the case, I don’t know what it is I’m doing?” “I have thought several of these past few nights and I have thought more. What I have decided is to grant you another chance. Do not believe for a second that I trust you. But know that I am giving you a chance to earn my trust once more.” I rubbed my chin. “I can’t say I’d be displeased with that. But what sort of hoops are we talking about me jumping through? Fiery flaming death type hoops, or the hoops between your legs?” I think she blinked a few times, before her features softened into an amused look. “I see. You are back to your old jokes, Farrahn.” The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile. “The fiery flaming death type hoops.” “Ah, shucks.” I said, swinging my arm and snapping my fingers for effect. She loves me, yeah, she just isn’t the type to admit it. “My research prevents me from the fieldwork I would ask of you. I simply do not have the time or resources to be in multiple places at the same time. And you are able to travel under less scrutiny, Farrahn Moriaden.” “True.” I added. “I already know the Guild’s scheme they have decided to involve you in. That you are to meet with the Ortegas. That once you have met up, you will be instructed to travel to Malifaux city, then exit Malifaux into Paris. Have you heard of the catacombs beneath Paris?” “I have, in passing. I’ve never actually been beneath Paris though. Aren’t there supposed to be thousands or hundreds of thousands or millions of people buried there, so thick their skulls cobble the walls?” “That would be a rough approximation. It is also …” her eyes fluttered and I thought she was maybe deciding how much she wanted to tell me “on the Malifaux side, a place where Nephilim are spawned. Because, due to the religious practices of times past, trace aspects of soul essence remained within the bones. Even trace portions, from so many sources, gathered over such a period of time…” My eyes were wide, as I got the very heart of what she was saying. “A veritable Nexus!” “Yes. Not even the Guild is likely to know the extent of the power existing there, though they may have alternative reasoning for the mission you will be sent on. On the surface, it is to eliminate the nest of Nephilim there, but I cannot fathom if this is their true intent or if they have bridged gaps of deductive reasoning. Do not trust them. If the wrong Masters were to find out…” “My lord!” I exclaimed, even though I’m no religious nut. It just kindof blurted itself as the most appropriate exclamation. “That could start a world-wide war!” There was a long moment of silence. “And this was a measure of my reservation in letting you know. I am aware you have not agreed to work with me, Farrahn, and I am hoping your own common sense will lead you to see reason. If the Guild discovers the truth, it is in their nature to create a situation which will draw the attention of the other factions.” “And so you’ve had a sudden turn for good? All about world peace now?” The hint of sarcasm wasn’t lost on her. “Of course not. I expect you to aquire the Nexus for my personal use.” “I figured. And what’s to keep me from deciding it’s more to my liking, once I’m there?” She laughed. She actually broke out into light tinkling laughter. Made me want to kiss her right there. “It would burn you out. Burn you hollow. Eat your soul. You don’t have the willpower for it, Farrahn. Another reason I decided I could tell you these things.” “Aww. So I don’t get my cake and the chance to eat it too… So what do I get, beautiful? A night with you?” “You get to keep all twenty-nine soulstones that you stole from me.” “Hey now. I had four of those before I…” “You also keep your life, freedom, and earn back a portion of the trust you lost. If this is not sufficient be mindful the other option is for me to bury you in the ice below your feet. A pragmatic choice. I’ve simply told you too much to let you refuse.” “Hmm. Six to one, half a dozen the other… Throw in sufficient gold and protection for the travel and time and allow me to give you a kiss and you’ve got yourself a deal.” “Ohverywell.” She said in a rush, holding out her hand limp-wristed. Of course I tried going for the lips, but she turned her hand upwards and interceded, then again presented me with a limp-wristed hand. Well, I wouldn’t besmirch my reputation as a gentleman. So I took up her hand and planted a kiss on it like she was the Queen of England. Which left my teeth chattering afterwards, her skin is cold as ice! Sometimes get scared thinking the frail looking gal will catch her death of pneumonia or hypothermia, but she’s made of tough stuff and I, ah, I picked up some of my basic arcane principals from back last time I was around. “Come, henchman.” She ordered, leading out, thankfully, from that frigid creepy room. You know, I felt quite certain there was a lot more she wasn’t telling me but, hey, there’s only so much you can finagle from a woman at one time. “This is Snow. He’s a very special Sabretooth Cerberus that I rescued from the clutches of Leveticus. I am a bit mystified by it, but he has all the attributes of a construct yet retains a soul. I have spent more hours than I would have wished simply reconditioning him. And through him I may watch you, Farrahn. Because you are an investment.” She added as a pointed afterthought. “Take good care of him.” She told me, stroking the beast along the furry ridge on its back. I couldn’t quite tell if it was more machine or more animal, but she had added her own arcane touches, pale blue glowy etchings in the metal, and the furry bits were a pure snowy white. “And he will take good care of you.” “Great!” I replied, “But will he be able to carry me to California? In case you forgot I was supposed to be there, oh, yesterday? Or maybe the day before by now.” She gave me one of those looks. The not actually angry looks, but the kind I can’t really explain. “No, Farrahn Moriaden. But I will help you with that. You may use my mirror to travel.” “Mirror?” “Yes. How did you think I can travel so quickly? This is the heart of December, Farrahn Moriaden, and it is the breath that moves me.” I was mulling that over still when she led me back through that room where Stone Face was, now sitting in one of the chairs that looked far too comfortable for him. I pointed as we moved past and waved for him to follow. “Enough vacationing you lazy bones, it’s back to work for us.” I told him. ‘Tina led us to a room where the wall in front of us was so polished and smooth I could see myself as if I was standing in front of me. ‘Tina spoke an activation cantrip in arcane and the wall turned into a scene of a desert. You see? Sometimes if you pay attention in certain difficult classes you will pick up a useful tidbit here or there. I only know a smattering of that arcane tongue, but I know the formulae for activating ritual magics from the smallest talisman to the largest dragon line. More handy than you might think, in some circles. “In you go.” She said. “Now Snow, you are to consider those traveling with Farrahn Moriaden as being no more than minions. He shall be your subjugate Master in my absence, though my instruction both prior and henceforth remains priority. See that he accomplishes his scheme as designated and handle damage control if he does not act with tact.” I swear, that over-sized Cerberus bobbed all three of its heads in a creepy wavelike synchronicity. I can’t say which more gave me the heebie-jeebies, the two Cerberus heads with their red intelligent-looking eyes, or the metal one on its left that looked like a Cerberus skull. Every time the thing breathed little wisps of mist would come trailing out sinking to the ground from little vents in its ribs. I tipped my hat down a bit so as I didn’t need to see. But everyone had started looking expectantly at me. So, aye, I stepped through first.

Thank you everyone! Especial thanks for the re-post of the pictures, here. I've got them basecoated, currently. I also put down an order for the Ortegas, Mama Ortega, and the Enslaved Nephilim just tonight. I'll start the painting soon, but it's either painting or fiction writing so I'll try balancing them out.

Alright guys; I've started the next section but just don't have the oomph to complete it tonight/this wee morn'. I had my Witchhunter minis come in and spent what might have been writing time sculpting bases and base-coating them all. And tomorrow I'll likely be putting my new crew to action- maybe even hunting down Rasputina (because someone believes she can beat Sonnia, mhuahahahaa). But, like I say, I've started it, and it'll be up in a day or two.

Hey guys! I just got my first Malifaux box order in today, and I've started prepping my minis. Unfortunately I couldn't quite figure out how to reduce the space requirements of the photos enough to upload them directly here, but on the brightside I got them posted at deviantart! So far I'm just trying to show the base-work I've done using greenstuff; and any comments or criticisms or critiques are most welcome, as this is the first time for me going all-out with any miniatures. I consider my experience limited as I'm pretty much learning as I go on a budget. Anyway- here are the URLs for the pics: http://shawn-reed.deviantart.com/#/d2yr42s and http://shawn-reed.deviantart.com/#/d2yr4gv

To be honest, when I work with green stuff, I don't use anything to prevent the tackiness. I find that a pin and fingernail working in harmony can mold it as desired with a bit of effort- and also, the natural oils in your fingers helps if you want to smooth a part out. I just got some pictures taken with some greenstuff-sculpted bases, if you'd like to see I'll be posting them in the model showcase section shortly.

I think one of my favorite bits of style in this is the particular accent you've graced Som'r Teeth with. I must admit, I'd also never paid attention to the fact that all three Neverborn leaders are witches. o.O And moreover, could symbolize the Maiden, Mother, and Crone. It does seem, oddly enough, like they would be able to work together from time to time. X) Y'know... iffin' Som'r Teeth Jones is considered on the bright side, Gremlin-wise, Mr. Paine must right well be a ge-ni-us. ;P I'm just worried to find out what a dumn gremmy would be like. '

There's certainly more to come. I'm trying to keep it in a day-by-day format, and had to account for my own absense by having Farrahn unable to write for the past three days and then getting it all down from memory. You bet it's incomplete! There's a heckalot more still to come.

114 PF, Sept 13th Alas, that I’ve been unable to put pen to paper for the last several days. Granted, presently I’ve all the time I could want to do so. Though I am freezing my balls off. As long as I move around every few minutes I manage to stay warm enough to be uncomfortably cold. And the writing keeps circulation to my hand. So do pardon any curt manners I may display. I quite intensely dislike the cold. In any case, I shall best update these past few days as I can from memory. Sept 10th- Though I did not expect it, just over half of my requisition order for bullets had come in by the time I was ready to leave, and I needed to make purchase of a cigar box to hold them. I had made the outrageous request with the intent of driving home that I was not joking in intending to buy as many bullets as I could find on such short notice. What I hadn’t anticipated was actually getting more than a fraction of what I expected. True, it cost me more than I expected, as I had planned to chew the man out considerably to drive the price for the bullets far down, but at that amount of success I didn’t have the heart. Stone-face was up before I was, and I have suspicions he was up before dawn, burning offerings outside town for success on our venture. I noticed he had replaced and or cleaned the daggers used in the fight the night before. He stood outside waiting for me at a farmer’s early hour, and though his face said nothing, his eyes said he was eager to get started. I headed out to the stable, as I had the idea of renting a horse to carry me the long walk there, but the stablemaster informed me of a policy against renting out to anyone riding the mount breachside. Sensible, considering many a horse in Malifaux is not long for the world, skittish as earthside horses are. I had to settle on the thought that I might be able to pick one up on the other side. Still, even offering something for the trouble, it didn’t take me long to realize the man wouldn’t take anything short of the full price for the horse, which was not in my coinpurse at the time. So I settled to the unfortunate business of walking. Two unexpected turns of events in less than the same number of hours- it would have made sense to take it as a sign, but I had been lulled by the comfort of the night before. The hike was itself quite uneventful. We made a stop for lunch around midday, some three quarters of the way there. Noticeable changes were slight, though I remember a few, including a two-tailed scorpion and remarkably large insect that hissed at me before I pulled out my Colt and answered. The breach point happened to be an old coal mine nobody had been crazy enough to buy up. So a few coal carts sat rusting on the tracks. “Storm comes.” I remember Stone Crow telling me. And I’d be a son-of-a-gun if he wasn’t right, though I only registered if after. Dark clouds were spilling over the mountains. One of my rare moments of short-sightedness, I considered the best move to be heading in as soon as possible. One little known traveling tip between Earth and Malifaux are that places line up with the environment on the other side most similar. Hardly matters the distance, and even I have a bit of trouble picking out what all the conditionals are. But I figured waiting around would shift the parallels further away from where I wanted us to be the longer we waited. So once again into the breach, my friends! After the moments of mental impairment that come with stepping over, I was dismayed to find we had arrived into a light flurry of snow with perhaps six inches on the ground. Stone Face’s face almost moved, I daresay, as he had the gall to ask for my coat. I told him to go kill a buffalo. Pulling out my compass I made some rough calculations as to our whereabouts and the general heading we should take. No map of Malifaux is ever entirely complete, and I’ve taken it upon myself to sketch in details where I go. It seemed we were no farther off than I had predicted the day before, and we set a course ten degrees south by seven degrees east. It became something of a habit for me to check my compass as we tracked through the snow. My companion had no comment. Uneventful as that day was, we made camp amidst a cluster of pines which was turning into a pine forest edging the plain we were following. Stone Crow had a fire going by the time I had my tent set up, and it was beginning to get dark. I was about to pull out my journal for a few notes when there was something I can only place akin to the whooshing of great wings above us, and you might have thought Stone Face had cracked. He got all excited, jumped straight up as though he had a coal shoved up his butt, and grabbed me by the laurels of my coat. I had my hand on my old trusty Colt and might have pulled it I was so surprised except he exclaimed ‘Thunderbird!’ and started running off through the snow in the gloom. I was brushing myself off when I noticed he’d filched my bag of soulstones, and that made me pop up and give chase like I had a horde of warpigs gouging my rearside. Catching up it seemed I’d been a little late, though not terribly so. I whipped up a bit of light to see better. Stone Crow had discarded the bag in the snow and had one of the soulstones in hand. Perched atop one of the trees, pretty durn near snapping the top off it was bent over so far, was a gigantic looking bird so big it could have flown away with me in one foot. But the soulstone that had been filched was giving off a cherry sort of glow and creating a weird sort of eminence that was reaching out for the bird. But the scene had trouble looking all over it. The soulstone was cracking, I could tell as I’d seen them give before after good solid use. And the bird was staring daggers at Stone Face, who was sweating despite the cold and giving off steam. Seemed there was a struggle of wills going on but, far as I could tell one stone just wasn’t enough brass to handle the big bird. Well, figuring the hand already dealt I picked up the bag and pulled out another of the stones. That boy sure has stones, for it looking like he might be a tasty bird snack.. he just doesn’t have enough. So adding up mine I sunk myself down into that stone I held so deep it started to become powder. There’s a certain arcane trick of the mind I know that allows me to make something I cast it on think my next few words make the most sense ever, though it usually lasts only a handful of seconds. Enough for being in a jam. Well I added that little bit of power in with the thread Stone Crow already had out, but it seems that whatever Stone Crow was doing was far deeper and somehow intrinsic of him. Not much wonder he couldn’t do it on just one stone. But those two magics, his and mine, the Thunderbird succumbed. It was full over taken. And I tell you, I’ve never had that spell of mine go deep as the soul, but I’d swear it sure did just that. Told Tweety Thunder to calm down and that bird minded faster than a soldier in the Mexican Army. Stone Face must have left his face back at camp because the one he had then was full of awe and surprise. He spoke a lot, for him, in some gibberish I don’t understand, but I caught the word ‘totem’ and something I thought might be ‘great spirit’. Thought he might have flung himself onto his belly before me if it weren’t all snow. Who could say. I told Tweety to stay put, and while we were walking back to camp Stone Crow was treating me like Grand General of the some world-spanning armada! Gave me all kinds of swearing this and swearing that and owing me this and that and boiled down to that it seemed that, whether I liked it or not, I’d aquired a manservant for the rest of my life. Plum gave me a headache to where by the time I’d gotten back I didn’t even feel like pulling out my journal and hit the woolens instead. Sept 11th Got up and found that it was snowing outside. Stone Face was already up, and I couldn’t tell if he’d slept at all or not. But he had gotten his usual face back, even though he stuck to me like a second shadow as I broke down camp. Glad it was one of those gentle snows. The kind you like to see around Christmas, pretty and such, but still sucks to travel in. Fixed some greasy bacon and toast with some melted down snow and ate on the move, seeing as I didn’t want to get bogged down with the snow. Waved one of my fingers around the sky a few times, I think. So after telling Tweety to follow and keep an eye out, we headed off. Smart bird, I swear, more common sense than some humans. Thought I caught some Sabretooth Cerberus’ lurking around the edges of the woods except Tweety kept visible and probably seemed a bit too menacing. Either that or they might have thought trying to snack on old Stone Face would chip their teeth. Well, we must have traveled twenty miles, eight or so hours later, when I decided we would give our legs a rest and grab some grub. Settled down my pack and checked the map and did some figuring and cursed a few times. Near as I could tell we had missed the one road up through these parts by a couple miles on account of all the snow. Probably walked right by it without even knowing. Don’t know that I’d mentioned it, but we were tacking down between mountains and forests following the ridgeline. Well, that’s important seeing as I didn’t think to look up until I heard some big old boulders tumbling down pretty much over our heads. Made some Union style signals to Stone Crow hoping he’d understand and rolled myself out of the way. Apparently a family of molemen had decided they were going to be clever with an ambush. Can’t blame Tweety for not noticing, hey, I wouldn’t see the ground much less what’s below with all the snow coming down. But that bird took the clue soon enough and started wheeling our way to help. Didn’t need to, really, as I got off two shots with my baby putting one down for good. Before I could play any more whack-a-mole, though, the other two disappeared. “You take that hill, Stone, you hold that position!” I called out but, weirdly enough, the snow had decided to pick up in a squall and I wasn’t even able to see where I was pointing at. So not quite sure if he had heard me as I didn’t know where he was, I decided to get to the higher ground myself. And no sooner found myself being blocked by two giant-sized icicles and my own grumpy reflection. Aw hell. “Hey, ‘Tina!” I called out into the storm, “Why don’t you come out and let’s talk? I’m sure whatever you think I’ve done we can work out. Let’s kiss and make ou, err, up, let’s. I’ll take you to tea. Or are you still all ruffled because I’m not all keen on meeting your daddy?” Her reflection appeared in the ice, and let me tell you seeing her anything other than as cold-faced as Stone Face, even that hint of pissed she can get with that one eyebrow, wow, it only makes her more beautiful. It’s like her hair is black silk and her skin white satin, and her eyes all deep as a mountain lake. She’s got a thing for fur, too. And those black lips just turn me on. How I would definitely not mind squeezing those furs. But digressing as I am. No, right now she definitely has a hissy fit to get over. “Your delusions have nothing to do with this, Farrahn. I simply cannot take lightly a casual theft of my hard-earned soulstones.” She told me, all cool and hard-ass like, damn but she is sexy when she’s angry. “Oh hun, come now! What, these are supposed to be yours? Be reasonable luv, I came by these on the other side. How would I know I was jilting a sweetie like you rather than some rotten asshat, like Nicodem maybe. Oh now, don’t give me that look darlin’! Are you genuinely telling me you tracked me down, one man in all the world for a few soulstones? Or are you finally going to confess you love me after all and that I’ve melted that icy heart of yours?” Whoo-eey, if looks could kill. But getting a rise out of her, it would be worth it for any true-blooded man. Even though getting blasted in the face with what amounts to arctic hail and knocked on my ass wasn’t the kind of reply I was hoping for. The kind I expected, oh, sure, but not the kind I hoped for. I remember feeling like the sky came down on me, I could have sworn I was being rained on by ice-bricks, but one of them must have clunked me on the head because I lost cognition for pretty much the rest of the day. Sept 12th And woke up here. I’ve a really good idea where I’m at. ‘Tina’s place. Maybe the fridge. I think she’s giving me the cold shoulder. But I figure I wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t thinking about warming up and talking sooner or later, maybe even apologizing. It only makes sense, though women sometimes make very little sense. And she left me my journal! The dear, at least I’m not in prison bored. Though she did take my weapons and soulstones. Cold hearted woman. Making me want to think she doesn’t care. . Well, sooner or later something will turn over. Surprisingly, there is a fireplace in my cell, probably the one reason I’m not an icecube just yet. But it’s not exactly cozy like I imagine Santa’s cabin would be. No, this is pretty much an Ice Palace. Nestled atop a frozen lake, she’s got herself a fortress that’s pretty much the demesne of her and her snowmen. I kindof take it she’s not much of a people person. Probably shy, but I bet deep down she’s just lonely and looking for the right person. Though the ‘Tina I know, and I do know her well enough to say as much, loves nature. I mean truly feels something for it most of the rest of us feel for homes and friends and lovers. And I know one thing I don’t particularly agree with, considering the things I’ve heard. She wants to revive her daddy. Old Rasputin himself. And reason I wouldn’t want to see her old man isn’t just on account he’s got bigger man-parts than two of me, but that it was hard enough to put the man down the first time. One of the details they left out of the books that I heard through a reliable source by word of mouth is that they needed to shove Soulstones down his throat when they threw him in the river to drown and freeze. And I’m thinking something must have passed in those final moments because ‘Tina’s soul is downright uncomfortably intimate with the freezing icy cold surrounding her father’s death. Last time, back when I was with her for a while, she made these little hints like she had found a way to bring him back, and these hints like I was going to help her with it. So I started getting suspicious on account I had no clue what she was actually hinting at, and did what seemed sensible at the time. I escaped. Well, felt like it… though you might see me putting it down here as ‘ran out on her’. Maybe even when she was starting to trust me. Well, yeah, I was young and didn’t take into account the ignorance of a sweet thing being natural being all sheltered up like this pretty much all her life. So I may have made a mistake but one thing I know, being the master of my surroundings that I am. Only dying is a mistake you can’t change, unless you’ve tipped off the gravedigger. So what I mean to say, is that with the right kind of negotiating, you can achieve anything. Or maybe you can’t, but I sure can, being, after all, the one and only Farrahn Moriaden.