Thechosenone

Thanks, anybody else have an opinion?

Just had a game, Zoraida V Seamus, and it came down to a drawn or a two pts victory. Bad Juju is the issue. After Bad juju dies but returns to the board can he deny holdout?

The difference between the WIP and the finished product is night and day. They look really good. The only thing i'm not entirely behind is the Witchling eyes. They always seem off to me when you don't source light the interior of the hood a little. Otherwise nicely done.

"You shot my dog! You shot my dog in the head!? You monster!"

Thanks Mako, glad to hear that. Would love some feedback on it either way.

Well, I play against Collette a lot and assuming she's running her standard crew here's what I'd do. Canine remains and Necro punks are fast and cheap. They work well as a Bete Delivery system, the Resser one stop solution to all problems. Ranged stuff like Rigor Mortis and decay are decent. Crooked Men and shafted markers aren't bad. The result flip on shafted markers are harsh and if dropped on objectives its a good way to cost them wounds and models. Remember, they don't have a lot of wounds to give. Collette is 6, the duet and cassadra are a bit higher. Kill off show girls. Just pretend that the showgirl crew exists anywhere there is a showgirl. With that in mind you have the worst case scenario already planned out. Now, each showgirl you kill off limits that movement and threat. I drop my entire crew on icing the duet first. They have the greatest movement and utility to the crew. After they are removed it forces Cassandra into the role of beat stick. She doesn't last long either once she's out of places to port back to. Now remove Cassandra. Once Cassandra and the duet are removed as a threat (Or just paralyzed every turn) You can ignore Collette. Collette is utterly worthless once she has no showgirls left to dance around with. I'd consider her on par with Kirai having no spirits around. She's slow, fragile and with super limited damage potential without having a delivery system. Soul stones you say. Half the crew can you soul stones! I never look at this as a strength on their part. What it means is that, if you pressure them correctly, they'll be out of stones by turn 4. You have to pressure one model at a time. Everybody's willing to take a hit or two but the stones start coming out when its clear that hit after hit is coming your way. Collette can man stones! Sure, if she has nothing but time on her hands. But it costs cards. That means you have a knowledge advantage. Also, Colette is threatened by any model that has a potential to deal two three wounds with an attack. She could be dead in a single activation. Dogs and Necropunks are great for forcing her to do things other than make stones. Dogs especially because of hard to wound. It means you don't have to try to hard to keep them alive when she magician duels them. They're also great because of the DF -2 effect. And, she'll be loath to kill them because of Bete. Better yet, get two dogs up there and kill one with the other. Then drop bete. Flurry Collette, paralyze, slit jugular and rot till your heart's content. Slit jugular and Sever spine are particularly nice because all you have to do is hit her and she has to drop cards or stones AND she's paralyzed. And you only need to hit her once out of three flurry attacks to do it. What else what else, that aura damage thing Punk zombies do is neat. If you have the chance do that. Mortimer kinda sucks in my opinion so don't waste the points. Sebastian is good. Shikome is just as fast and gross in combat as a Coryphee. Dead Rider is fast enough to catch someone. If you wanna win objectives get Night Terrors or Necro punks (But i say Necropunks only to be avant garde). Get Night Terrors. They are more maneuverable than anything the Showgirls have to offer. Good luck

The paint job is really well done. Something is strange about the pose of the ice golem but otherwise he's great too. Good work sir.

Seems to have dried up in here over the last two months. Where'd everyone go? We had a real good thing going on around the time we started our pledge to read and respond to as much stuff as we could.

Certainly not a stupid question its not a valid choice. I Don't have the cards handy at the moment but I do have crew creator and in Crew Creator I trust. Gremlins, although HT1 are not up for hire for Hamelin. I think they have a restriction about working only with a Gremlin Master or something like that. Pigs you can take, though their use to Hamelin is questionable. I'd rather have a rat over a big any day. I play Hamelin and I did it not knowing what I was really doing. I've never lost with him nor really ever been in a position where I felt too challenged and thats all the fault of the crew mechanics. Really, taking a HT or insig model other than Hamelin's standard choices is a self handicap. The Alp comes the closest to being useful but still, take to Alps or invest in a Rat catcher or more rats or stolen... its an easy choice.

(So as usual, my vision of malifaux differs from the norm greatly. Malifaux inspired i usually say. This is a battle rep that forms the next part of the story. It makes reference to characters that are nothing like their malifaux counterparts and you can follow up on those visions if you want in these posts (Christopher McGinnis http://www.wyrd-games.net/showthread.php?28642-Let-the-Games-Begin-V-Lost-in-the-Dark ) and Hoffman and Camille (http://www.wyrd-games.net/showthread.php?28466-Live-for-the-Trade-Die-for-the-Trade-Lord-Architect-Carl-Hoffmann )If you read it please drop a comment and if you like it please check out my other work.) Hoffmann Copellius(Camille) Peacekeeper Mobile Toolkit Guardian Exorcist (Accountant Christopher McGinnis) Bodyguard Line in the Sand (Flipped out of Plant Evidence) Seamus Madame Cybelle Two Rotten Bells Copycat Killer Bete Noir Two Crooked Men Holdout(not announced) Bodyguard Reconnoiter Pre-Game The night sings with a song of constant hunger born agony. Equal parts creeping fog and swarming flies work in tandem to herald the advance of a ravenous choir shambling on Malifaux’s border slums. Carl Hoffmann watches the dead carefully with his augmented eyes. His monocle pierces the obscura easily to reveal the gravity of the threat. The hoard is beyond counting and they’ve skulked into the weakest section of Malifaux’s defenses, the pitiful slums of the Border Ruin. The Border Ruin isn’t so much a district as an urban wasteland that no one wants to govern. Some sections are quarantined, others just forgotten about. It’s as untamed as the bayou and just as dangerous. The Guild’s eyes are rarely on the Border Ruin. There’s too much to watch and too little to gain. But not tonight. Tonight the right information was wrestled from the right lips at the right time. Carl stands on the bent scaffolding of building that either died ages ago or failed to fully birth. The difference is impossible for even the Grand Architect of Malifaux to identify. But it gives him a good enough vantage on the walking corpses. He rests his weight on his cane while the midnight winds rustle through his long coat. His analyses of the hoard is interrupted by a cold caress that runs over his shoulder and up the back his neck. He feels lips touch his flesh in a soft kiss. “That’s a lot Rotters Carl.” The voice, so soft and so beautiful, belongs to Camille. Without turning back he knows she stands there behind him. He knows there’s barely room for her to stand and that no mortal should have been able to reach this perch unaided. But Camille is not mortal, not any longer. She used to do things that set his heart on fire and surprised even his labyrinthine mind. She used to be the love of his life. Then she died. And then she was brought back. Now everything she does terrifies him. “Yes, Camille. It is.” He answers. “But we don’t need to kill every one of them personally. Tonight is about brutal measures.” He gestures to the sky, taking care never to look back at her. He doesn’t want to meet her gaze. Her eyes, he loved them once. They conveyed such warmth and such passion. When one says that eyes are the window to the soul it was perfect eyes like hers that they were talking about. And her soul was a bright beacon, like a glowing lantern hanging alone in the night. But now, when he dares to lose himself in her eyes, all he sees is a void and occasionally if he forgets to look away… he sees the alien taint of the Governor-General’s touch. He points to the flock of Watchers that swoop from the sky and skim the surface, dropping strange devices of cog, wire and soul stone. One of the tiny machines is snatched from the air by groping rotted hands that mistake it for a living meal. The machine is beaten into debris by frustrated shells of living matter. Hoffmann watches several of them scrap metal and canvas into their mouths. He wonders if they are hoping for flesh or just trying to suppress hunger by any means, even by filling their guts with factory parts. Her lips move up his neck and whisper into his ear “What will we do?” He closes his eyes, blocking out the urge to turn and to kiss her back. He knows what stands behind him will only be his Camille in body. Nothing more. Instead he endures this mocking torture focusing on a memory of the old Camille. The Camille Ramos took and the one he forced back into life. “Those devices are beacons that will shine so brightly that even the eyes back at the Construct Quarry will see. The Watchers will calculate trajectory and elevation, the Grenadiers will arm and fire the bombards and then…” Camille answers, a twinge of excitement in her hushed voice. “And then we draw a line in the sand.” “Yes my dear. They will learn a valuable lesson tonight.” Another voice from below adds to the conversation. “As will the entire city. It’s rare we get to send a message to the population without flattening part of a district in the process.” It belongs to a man in Guild long coat with face concealed under the brim of a slouch. Hoffmann requisitioned the assistance of a Guild Accountant for this particular mission. Their skills in scrutinizing and auditing the spirit is legendary. They’re a feared department within Pinnacle and are rarely ever called into service. Hoffmann has few fears anymore, the least of them being mortal men. “The fears of the city are your concern Mr. McGinnis, not mine.” Hoffmann answers back. “Not even a little?” Camille begs. “Let’s just get on with it.” Hoffmann holds out a gloved hand. His fingers start to pulse with a feint light and the chime of a tuning fork echoes from his palm. Old stone and mortar crushes under the stomp of a forge birthed juggernaut. One of the Quarry’s Peacekeepers emerges from the night; its cyclopean single eye bleeds a ray of light into the dark. The ringing noise controls its actions with unseen force, like a metal puppet forced to life by magnetic strings. Beside it a tall gaunt ghoul of a creation follows. It sees the night with a set of arachnid eyes. One arm carries a single dense sheet of metal fashioned into a shield baring the symbol of the Quarry. The other holds a slab like sword. Hoffmann’s strange resonance echoes louder, his own body lifts from its position into the air and glides gently down. The metal of his own augmentations is drawn to that of the Peacekeeper. He hovers above the ground, pushing slightly off the Peacekeeper’s presence, and points forward. “Take me to the beacons… destroy everything in your way.” “Destroy!” The construct recites. Christopher McGinnis follows the heavy march of the machines while loading his crossbow. To him, this is just business. Nothing more. But he watches with a careful eye as Camille emerges from the shadows of the ruin. She never climbed, or jump. She just blinked from one point to another. She calls after the Architect. “I’m coming Carl. I won’t let the Rotters touch you. You’re all mine.” Turn One and Two Hoffmann watches the streets of the Border Ruin. The hoard is near but not entirely on his beacon line yet. It makes things much easier. Fighting through legion of teeth and claws is never easy even for him. Speed is of the essence here. McGinnis taps Hoffmann’s shoulder and points. The Architect doesn’t care for the brazen touch of the Accountant but he follows his gesture. He can see some of the dead, outriders perhaps, or just part of the swarm that shambles faster. “Those dead aren’t part of the hoard.” The accountant educates “They move with intelligence. And look at their clothes. They’re well dressed and maintained.” “Resserectionists…” Hoffmann hisses. “Exactly. And they’re either leading the hoard in or here to harvest choice members from its ranks.” “The dead prey on the dead?” Hoffmann questions. “The living enslave their own. Why shouldn’t the dead.” McGinnis’ keen eyes preen the Resserectionists looking for his ideal target. And finally an image matches the information in his reports. A foppish man with an idiot grin and tall top hat prances about the ruin flirting with the corpses. “That, right there. That’s the target.” Camille breaks from the group and moves to the uprooted aqueducts hoping to activate a beacon and slither her way toward the target. The rest all move as a single fortress of metal and purpose. Hoffmann’s power flares, the chiming resonance grips the gears and cogs of the Peacekeeper urging it on and through the ruin to the Hatter’s position. “Destroy!” “Me oh myoh, what ave we er?” The Hatter slowly draws his liston blade from a bag of tools, his eyes immediately locking with every delicate little hose and joint as they would with veins and muscles. He’s a killer and not particular with what he kills. The machine tears up the street with its claw strikes and knocks Seamus flat with one of its blows. The murder stands, his face twisted into a wolf’s grin. He snarls and strikes with all the precision of a viper, each swipe snipping at something vital. Hoffmann’s control over the machine is perfect though. His resonance compensates for each loss. The Architect is not a man who enjoys the witty banter that so many embrace during the heat of combat. He feels few thrills anymore. He swings with his own hand as his resonance intensifies. The Peacekeeper mimics the action flattening Seamus to the pavement again. Hoffmann then saps energy from his toolkit and feeds more of his chiming power into the Peacekeeper. A renewed intensity fills the machine’s single eye and it begins its onslaught all over again. Seamus chokes up blood and winces as he crawls over the street. He’s barely alive and loving every moment as he walks the fine line between life and death. He crawls, lured away from the combat by his beautiful bells, to safety while breaking a handful of his soulstones and feeding on the life that leeches from them. His vigor is fully restored as he exhausts the last of them. “You sur… are no fun at all.” Seamus taunts. “Pursue and destroy.” Hoffmann casually instructs. "Acknowledged." The Peacekeeper answers the command. The Guardian catches up with Hoffmann while the others move to the beacons and begin activating them. Each begins to strobe with green soul stone illumination before sending a single pyrelight into the night sky. Turn Three and Four McGinnis can feel another force working at the outskirts of reality, a dark living shadow, a tragedy taken form and intellect. He knows its presence well, the spirit known as Bete Noir. She haunts the lost places of Malifaux and she’s here now. He knows it and the Hatter knows it. Hoffmann points his Peacekeeper at the goblin copy of Seamus that fires at his position taunting the Architect to attack. McGinnis shouts “Do not kill that creature! Ignore it and press on. Pick you kills carefully. Something else is watching and she’s waiting for a doorway to cross over. She needs a death. If you must kill something be ready to strike at what takes its place.” A shot from the imp shatters his Mobile Toolkit into pieces. The little chicken like device winces and chirps. Hoffmann instead urges his machines on further into territory of the dead while Camille and McGinnis activate more beacons. “They’re…. coming for… us.” Seamus’ Belle enforcer Cybelle groans. Her rotted eyes watch the Peacekeeper, Guardian and Hoffmann shred the streets as they claw their way toward them. “Whadya want me ta do about it luv?” Seamus paces. Then it hits him, the construct still has a soul. Processed, packaged and melted down to its basic parts but it’s still there. And it can still be made to remember fear. He calls upon the dread effects of necromancy to pluck at the souls of the machines like fingers at a long unused banjo. The strings are stiff and hard to force into tune but eventually he finds the notes. The machines stiffen and halt. Hoffmann recoils at the sickening emotions poisoning the resonance from his creations. “Oh… what’s ta matter? Scared?” Seamus fakes sincere concern for the mass of steel and fear that stands before him. Hoffmann’s chiming alters in pitch. He draws again on the power from a nearby machine to fuel his force. “I am not impressed.” He forces the Peacekeeper to swing, tossing a rotted belle further away and splattering it. From its body Bete finds her way into the world. Hoffmann then shifts his hand and with the subtle movement the harpoon cannon on the machine aims and fires. A very surprised Seamus is left pinned to the wall, a gruesome warning to the other dead. Bete moves in to take the Peacekeeper and Hoffmann, a murder’s smile stretches across her phantasmal face. But then there is a chill that penetrates her. A delicate hand reaches from the dark and grips her chin. Camille walks from the shadows and stares into Bete’s black eyes. “You can’t have him! He’s all mine!” She screams. Bete is left frozen by her touch but her black eyes peer into Camille's. She sees something there, something dark and terrible. Something that makes even a spirit tremble. Camille then reaches forward and into Bete’s chest ripping out a surge of soul light. The phantom withers into vapor while Camille holds onto the energy for later. Her satisfaction is short lived. One of the crook necked corpses is felled by McGinnis’ audit. Bete crawls forth again in jerking hideous fashion. Camille smiles as she watches the specter invade the living world again. "What are you?" Camille asks politely of the wretched thing. There is no answer, just a ghastly laughter that echoes from the night. Bete's essence is everwhere, her haunting of Malifaux is a natural law like that of gravity. "Tight lipped are we? Let's see what we can do about that?" Camille walks through the night fog with hungry eyes locked only on Bete Noir. Turn Five and Six Hoffmann and his Peacekeeper activate the fourth beacon, temporarily sabotaged by Cybelle before she ran deeper into the ruins. Bete, returns to the scene again after being dispelled back into the night by Camille. She chooses a new target, the accountant. She struggles back and forth with McGinnis. The two duel with will and with blades but the accountant is the eventual loser of this contest. Bete pushes him off the wrecked bridge and into the stagnant water below but the distraction was enough to occupy her while the others worked. Camille chases after the final crooked neck corpse ripping more soul light from his body before it withers to ash. She gathers her collection of entropic energy and breathes it into the night. It wafts out as an amorphous energy that infects a patch of darkness. The shadows live, crawling forth as a mass of deadly dark matter that activates the final beacon for her. Outcome The night is alive with beacon light. Bete watches the Guild force retreat back moments before the stillness of midnight dies violently. On the horizon her black eyes witness the volcano like eruptions from where Quarry stands. Contrails of burning fire streak across the sky and arc down. She shields her eyes as night becomes day for a brief terrible moment. The Border Ruin erupts with Soulstone birthed fury. Buildings are finally put out of their misery, the streets burnt to soft embers and the dead incinerated. The bombards hammer the ruin for over an hour. The last of the dead are crushed only a few moments after the siege began. The rest of it is to benefit the citizens of Malifaux… a well needed reminder of the Guild’s might. The next morning banners wave from the nervous hands of sleep deprived citizens, each one proclaims the loyal chant of the Guilds. “Live for the Trade. Die for the Trade.” The eyes of parading Guild corpsmen and scrutinizing Watchers approve. Resserectionists Reconnoiter 2 Holdout 1 Guild Bodyguard 2 Line in the Sand 4

Laserbeak? Resserbeak?

I used lots of alts for my lillith crew. just look for stuff you can love http://www.wyrd-games.net/showthread.php?29324-By-nature-s-hand-by-craft-by-art-what-once-was-one-now-fly-apart!-A-Lilith-Paint

Typically this is a much friendlier hobby than online FPS. We all get the struggle to learn the hobby, we sympathize with the time it takes and ultimately we can't enjoy the gaming part unless we're good sports and accumulate a willing player base. Most of that isn't true in the online FPS world. So i hope you can still have fun without getting trash talked by us. Though if you keep asking for it we're gunna start assuming you're a sadist.

And done. I just wanted to be finished after a huge paint marathon. So I speed painted this crew with simple earth colors and easy basing. The little dolls were hard to paint actually. Bad Juju Slurids Zoraida and Voodoo Doll(swarm)

cool mini or not is a nice place to browse lots of companies all at once. ---------- Post added at 02:16 PM ---------- Previous post was at 02:13 PM ---------- http://www.masq-mini.com/artikelauswahl.php?kids=14&sprache=2 Try these too.

Woodland scenics will sell you "driftwood" for like six bucks. Its broken sticks. In a blister.

and here we go again, right back into another crew. Aside from maybe a Douglas McMorning crew this might be my last one. Who knows? Some WIP Slurids.

Made a Stake a Claim marker just cause... thanks for all the comments from earlier folks. They are appreciated.

Random Guild Addition! Exorcist

Crew be done! Take a look, feel free to comment or critique. Watcher Camille(Coppelius) Carl Hoffmann The Crew

I notice the rise of paint logs titled with 80's cartoon quotes. This bodes well for the future. I just finished my hoffmann crew. Good luck with yours. Nice work so far.

This model and its small novel of rules worth while? And who do you run it with?

You have won my thread. +1 internet points for you.

Thanks for the read Skyhawk. The first chapter in the story explains my version of the Malifaux gremlin origin. Check it out if you like gremlins. A word of warning, my writing is Malifaux "Inspired". I stray greatly from any established canon.

So here is all fifteen chapters collected into one place, edited for ease of reading and put into the order that makes sense for the storyline. I've attached it as a word file because pasting 57 pages may look ugly. Please, read and enjoy. As always leave comments and feedback. It really helps. Live for the Trade Die for the Trade.doc