Brewmaster

Fair play on the other options for the fluff for Dumb Luck. Best part about it is that the fluff you want is the right one

The thing behind Dumb Luck is the shot tags the target in such a way that the recoil/ shrapnel/ 'other stuff' bounces back and hits the Gremlin. From a flavor standpoint, Armor would alter the recoil, and ghost-jello doesn't really reflect stuff too well either. The Dumb Lucker is still doing damage and taking some in return. Your Armor/Incoporeal just lowers what the final number is. So, after looking at some of the options: Armor: "Reduce all damage suffered..." Dumb Luck is based on what target suffers, so DL final result IS affected. Hard to Kill: Arguably, the Dumb Lucker takes full damage on this one. Hard to Kill doesn't say "Reduce damage suffered", so barring a rules thing I'm missing, I'd say full. Incoporeal: Same result as Armor.

Armor and Incoporeal affects the amount of damage the model actually takes. Hard To Kill and Prevention is something I'd have to take a look at the book for, but for the first two, "Half the damage the target suffers" is a number that changes if the target has damage reduction.

So, over the summer I'm planning on getting a core group of minis based and painted to take to Gencon, and Old Cranky is in the queue. My plan (since new plastics will hit when the Lacroix box does) is I'm going to take the old metal Young Lacroix model (The Justin one ), greenstuff a long ol beard on him, and go from there.

Figured I'd post up my gaming plans since I've just about got one going as well From the GM's Point of View: I have a few things I've wanted to try with this particular system. The major thing was beyond giving the group a vector I was interested in, I'm designing the story based solely on what the group flips, and how they interpret the information they have. So, major thing number one: Group template. I let the group know that the majority of the story was going to take place in the Contract Town of Pleasance. The town has been around for a while (well into the progress of the second breach), and the group chose that they're from the town, so at least a generation has happened. One of the more 'RP' players (who I think will thrive in this setting) got Orphan for his station and in the process of me asking leading questions landed on "Sort of like Jayne from Firefly". This helped spark some of the other players to their directions, leading another 'RP' player to being Inara. This gives me a base to start building with. Since 'Jayne' is leaning Wastrel, the group is going to be managing a saloon/casino in the town. 'Jayne' and 'Inara' knew each other from when 'Inara' was still a... let's say 'Contract Player'. I've got a couple more players who haven't built yet, but I have an established group template, and a solid building direction for them. Number two: The Non-Fated One of the elements I like from reading the Dresden RPG book is collaborative world building. Non-Fated that the players had a hand in making will be more memorable than "Here's a list of name I came up with". And to couch it in a bit of flavor, I'm presenting this chunk to the group as "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly" I'm going to create some NFCs that I want, then each player must create 1-2 NFCs, then the group's going to decide whether each NFC is publically known to be Good, Bad, or 'Other'. The two I've generated are Marshal Gideon Hawke (who's going to show up in the longer writings I post over in the writing section yay synergy!) and Doctor Edmund Norton. The quick and easy way I start building my NFCs is "What bad voice impression can I do for this person?" and I go from there. Gideon is full on Sam Elliot, and the Doctor is Paul Giamatti.

Also useful for healing flips if Wong's rocking Quality Mash Liquor. Mainly it's the randomization and the correct trigger on pulses that's really selling it.

suppose I should post a link, eh?

Metallic fire sizzled down Clancy’s throat as he slammed back another shot, slapping the clay shot glass down on the table with a flourish. “Thass 11.” He explained to his companion sitting across from him. For the past half hour, the two Gremlins had been sitting in what passed for a bar in one of the smaller Gremlin outposts, the quiet gremlin feeding Clancy shot after shot, timing them out. Clancy had boasted rather loudly the day previous that he had more guts than any of the Tri Chi folk mucking about in the swamp, and this morning one of them met with Clancy to accept that challenge. “Yes it is.” The quiet gremlin spoke, examining Clancy with inscrutable eyes from a nearly covered face. The gremlin gently picked up the shot glass and tipped a bit more spring water clear liquid into it. “Remember the bet: you drink 12 shots, I acknowledge your skills. You don’t, and I hang your carcass outside this bar as a message.” The gremlin held out the shot glass on his open palm. “Yous gonna hafta speak up cause all I’m hearin is ‘blahblah I wear nightgowns on mah face’. Gimme that drink.” Clancy snapped, reaching out to grab the cup. Clancy blinked, and the cup seemed to vanish from the gremlin’s hand. Several seconds later, his head finally registered the barstool that had tagged him. “Hey… whuzz wit the hittin? We agreed drinkin!” The gremlin placed the barstool in his hand on the floor, standing on top of it. He held out his hand once more, showing the cup. “We agreed that you would show if you were better than the Tri Chi. Twelve shots is what we have before we even start fighting. Now… Finish your drink.” The gremlin stated, staring at Clancy. Clancy pushed himself to a standing position, the room swimming around to avoid touching him. Mumbling under his breath, Clancy grabbed for his old banjo propped up against one wall. The rust kept it fairly out of tune, but it still hurt when you hit someone hard enough. Clancy lunged forward, bringing around the banjo with a hard swing. Had the gremlin’s legs behaved properly and stayed where they should have been, Clancy was fairly certain the gremlin would have been walking out on crutches. But they vanished along with the cup, sending Clancy flying as he finally registered a knee to his chin. “You will learn something today. You think all it takes to be a Tri Chi is to drink a lot? There’s much more. I will be your tutor Clancy. You will learn. Now… FINISH your DRINK.” Clancy used the banjo to get himself back to his feet, vaguely noticing the dull throbbing pain that would be screaming at him tomorrow. “Well ifn ya stop dancin around like a flippin squirrel, I can take that drink, ya stupid cheater!” Clancy tried to explain to the 3 people in front of him. Clancy shook his head to try and focus a bit, but finally shouted “Thazz it! Ifn I can’t hit one o ya, I’ll jus hit all o ya!” With a yell Clancy lunged forward, swinging his banjo in wide arcs in an attempt to catch at least one of the gremlins. But with each swing, the gremlin simply wasn’t where he should have been, and Clancy ended up collecting a bruise. Pure bubbling rage was controlling Clancy, the gremlin demanding that Clancy ‘finish the drink’ agitating Clancy beyond measure. “You know what your problem is?” The Gremlin asked as he slid back to avoid a hammer like swing from Clancy. “You think too much.” “HAW! Firs time I heard that!” Clancy shouted. “It’s true though.” The gremlin replied. “Your problem is you’re trying to think about what to do. Think about a boar for a second.” The gremlin back flipped onto a table as he continued to avoid swings from Clancy, keeping the shot glass within Clancy’s sights at all times. “When is a boar most dangerous? When it’s hungry. When a boar is full, it’s docile. Predictable. Controllable. Your mind is so full of thoughts that I can tell you what you’re going to do. A master of Tri Chi is like a hungry boar. Wild. Unpredictable. Hungry.” “Wha chu babbling bout?” Clancy barked, managing to keep his balance as he leapt up onto the table, swinging the banjo down with a holler. The gremlin slid off, spiraling down into a crouch, still holding the shot glass at a tantalysing distance. “You must empty your thoughts. Don’t think, simply do. Only then will you be able to match skills with the Tri Chi.” The gremlin held the drink up, and Clancy was certain he could see a smile under that mask. The windows to the bar burst open, and 4 gremlins that called themselves ‘Shinobi’ burst in, each one about as soused as Clancy was at the moment. Clancy looked around with a bob, a mixture of anger and disgust smearing on his face. “Now see this is what I’s talkin bout. Cheaty lil chimps with nightgown faces!” Clancy leapt at the closest shinobi, hearing a satisfying crack as he landed a headbutt. Clancy slammed home his banjo in the shinobi’s knee, dropping him to the ground as the others rushed in. The closest one launched a flurry of fists, most of which landed squarely on Clancy’s ribs. Clancy tried to block with the body of the banjo, but the shinobi had an uncanny knack of hitting him precisely where his hands weren’t. In a furious yell, Clancy dropped the banjo and leapt on the shinobi, pummeling him with bare hands, and finally grabbing both the gremlins ears and yanking them up for a headbutt. Clancy rose slowly, drops of blood getting into his eyes as he stared the two remaining shinobi down. The quiet gremlin had taken a perch on the counter, and seemed to have his eyes closed, the shot glass sitting in an open palm. Clancy took a couple of breaths, the flashes of pain finally winning their battle against the dulling of the alcohol. The two shinobi were bobbing and weaving around Clancy, apparently waiting on some action from him. These horse-scoopers gon KILL me! Clancy thought to himself. Well, if ‘m going down, might as well make sure I leave a big mark. The next few minutes were a muddled mess for Clancy. He knew there was at least one solid punch to the teeth, the shinobi landed several punches, he had broken a barstool over one of them, a chicken was watching the fight through the window, and Clancy had full on kicked one of them in the nethers. Next thing he knew, he was in front of the quiet gremlin, and the gremlin was handing him the last drink. Clancy snatched it from the gremlins hands, expecting an attack but receiving none. “Why you handing me this drink ifn I was sposed to take it from ya?” Clancy asked. The gremlin slid off the counter. “I DIDN’T do it. You did. You passed my test. I might even say you have a knack for learning these sorts of things.” The gremlin replied. At Clancy’s response of a thoroughly confused dumbstruck face, the gremlin chuckled and added, “You learned something. You learned the concept of nothingness. That final fight, you truly weren’t thinking about anything. This gift, one that each gremlin has inherently, is our most powerful weapon. It’s like a storm. Storm’s don’t think about what they do, they just do. I find this to be a unique talent that more gremlins could tap into. The point is, you were able to operate in the lack of. I acknowledge your talent.” The gremlin bowed deeply, causing Clancy to chuckle. “You gots some backwards ways o talking, you know that?” Clancy finally managed, snagging a seat and wincing as he sat down. The gremlin smiled as he took a seat across from him, producing a small bottle and a cup. “See, most around here think that. But I’ve had a chance to expand my way of thinking. I wasn’t stunted by the humans threatening me from all sides. I adapted and learned. Something you could achieve too, given the right push.” The gremlin commented, tugging his mask down ofr a moment to take a swig of his drink. “Yah?... tha sounds exhaustin.” Clancy declared as he blinked slowly at the gremlin. Clancy could feel he was about ready to crash, but this gremlin was talking around something, and curiousity was creeping up on Clancy. “Oh it probably will be.” The gremlin replied, giving Clancy a bare smile. “But, you will gain skills beyond compare. You will gain strength power. You will gain a brotherhood with extreme loyalty.” Clancy leaned forward, staring the gremlin down intently. “Whats about booze?” Clancy asked, managing the most intent gaze he could. The gremlin looked back at him with an equally intent gaze, leaned leaned in close and whispered, “More than you could drink in two lifetimes.” Clancy’s eyes widened as he thought, pondering deeply. He finally held up the shot glass to the gremlin, a solemn look on his face. “Yah… alright I suppose I’ll join your little group”. The last shot sizzled like a branding iron as it went down, the gremlin’s eyes flaring with excitement. 1565 words Theme (The importance of Drunken Gremlin Kung Fu) The Academic ( the guy teaching Kung Fu) Line Location Item

Thanks! When I do most of my writing, it happens visually (I could tell you what the stunt casted movie looks like), and dialogue is a big part of that. I definitely wanted to go light for this one since the previous story I posted was a little not lol.

Given that this particular system lends itself to a much more narrative style of gameplay, the idea of a group template (Fear the Boot podcast is where I heard it first) would fit very nicely. You tell the group "here's the edges of the pinball machine you're playing inside, you guys need to build for that." And having people build as a group will guide characters much closer together, dropping the "death marshal/ graverobber" chances down. For the first game I'm going to run for example, I'm going to say players who want to play the Dabbler pursuit have to take the Thalarian Doctrine school of thought. This makes immediate buy-in work better since they'd be a government Mage, and it automatically helps guide the characters "where am I that I would work with a government Mage?".

Final touch-ups posted

Entertaining thing during character creation: one of the casual gamers that I run RPGs for as well seems to be able to bend fate when they play a Perdita crew. So when I had my gaming crew roll up sample characters to introduce them to the game, what does she flip for Station? Ortega

One of the cool things about Wong is he falls into a Generalist category; he's not specifically designed to do one thing, so he can handle a few things. The big stuff to notice about him: 1) you'll want a hitter for the magical. Since you've got a guy who can damage through a lot, having already high damage just makes it gravy. The OOO Glowy thread can give you some options there. 2) oddball choice: 1 Performer. She's a merc, so you're paying 6, but the Wong crews I have are fairly minion heavy, so that reactivate is an option, that lure can bunch up people just ripe for a Wong Hadoken, and that scheme marker he's flipping 6 away she can turn into a fairly useful effect. Beyond that, leaning fairly heavy on Lightning Bugs, and Sammy Lacroix if you want to double dip on Wong's limiteds, honestly you can build the crew you want, and it should be fine.

Well, it's a ram and a tome for a 7Ml, 9 inch charge effectively... I hear those are useful And you nailed her on the head. She can tank better, and on the right build can swing a LOT of good attacks.

The only real issue with the My Little Wong: Killjoy is Magic list is you're telegraphing it from about 3 tables away. Your opponent can plan exactly how he needs to deal with it. In terms of efficiency, I honestly think Sue gives you the most magical bang for your buck if we're talking mercs. You get a very gorgeous 4 damage minimum on an attack, Sue + Dirty Cheater is worst case some interesting card draw, and you get a useful set of actions that compliment the Wong playstyle as well. Burt and Gracie are good choices (Gracie with her reactivate, srsly) if we're looking in-house.

My method of thinking when looking at Ophelia: She's a Reckoning/ (Turf War/Squatters) choice. She kills things in the face and has reasonable movement and interact tech through her weapons, so the others are options. Ideally you'll want to build a crew around that. Trixie (Gun for a Lady, Bounty) - You go first, you have better position tech, and you have Trigger card draw off of killing things (which people should be doing)... seems good right? Rami (Dirty Cheater) - Rami is one of my favorites. Dirty Cheater and Reckless should be offsetting each other so it's really a matter of "Do I focus/shoot or shoot 3 times?" Lenny - Lenny just smooths out SO much of this crew. Dumb Luck for everyone, Lenny positions Rami where you need him Turn 1 with Toss, damage reduction. There's a lot to like about this guy. Personal preferences: I like Pierre, Merris, and Raphael for build options to look from. Francois is okay, but he never really clicked for me. Old Cranky is a viable option (especially if you go with current avatar Ophelia). Generally Lacroix crews run a bit light as I go for killing over outactivation. When playing this crew, you play like 1.5 Perdita.

Yah, when I saw how accurately the models have begun matching the art, then I saw the Whiskey Golem, I was filled with both awe and dread at the task that would be coming. I'm actually going to wage that the Whiskeysaurus Rex is going to be shorter than the Rail Golem. When I was working proxies out, I could comfortably fit 1.5 Bayous on an extra Heavy Warjack I've got. Only real trick is it'll prolly be wide like Nothing Beast wide.

I actually like Old Cranky over Lass. Prolly personal playstyle, but I just feel like I get more. That being said, Out For Blood or Apron are good choices. Lass will be getting fragged sooner, so either a free armor, or helping Mah get more aggro are the things I'd be willing to wait on.

Think that might be a fishing rod there Omenbringer I really like seeing a bit more of the art, and having a rough idea on what's coming in the boxes as well. Ophelia's box is going to get a bit crowded, but seeing more of the artwork is kinda hoss.

Flavorfully speaking (I'm hoping!!!), I think that Mah, Zoraida, and Ophelia have a bit in common. I see the stats, compare it to what I already know, and the starter story I see is "Mah is Generation 2 Gremlin. She was present at the "big conference", and learned that the person with the biggest spoon is the one in charge. She also learned from Ophelia being praised by Zoraida that femlae gremlins can take up a boss role." Mechanically, I see her filling many of the same roles that Ophelia's crew would. Her benefits are for a more aggressive playstyle, and slightly better positioning benefits. The reason I personally dont talk much about her is she's efficient. All her stuff works, but there's no interesting mechanics. It's like Ophelia. The crew has that thing that they do very well, so the abilities and actions are focused on that.

Alright cool Given what the artwork looks like I definitely think the product is going to be worth it. Even if I didn't like the mechanics, I would buy a pack of Bayou Gremlins for example.

An important disclaimer: I will be as respectful as I am able to in this post, and I request that any other one who wants to post here do the same. For the past 7 months that minis have been releasing, we've gotten a full set of Guild, Arcanist, Rezzers, and (technically) Ten Thunders. We've also got 2/3 Neverborn, and (technically) 2/3 Outcasts. The March schedule is starting to show support pieces, and 7 months later, there's still no Gremlin love. I will be the first person to be "Alright, cool" if there's that explanation that I'm just not seeing, and I'm definitely not going for a "emo arm flailing about rant" cause you guys deliver a solid product that I want to give you money for. But ultimately I got into this game because of the Gremlin faction, and I have 120$ + shipping sitting in the bank right now. This is guarenteed money that's waiting for a friendly looking store button I can click on. I'm getting frustrated by the fact that my "tourney legal" options are much smaller, and require me double dipping to get the metals, then get the plastics with (based on the artwork) the MUCH more appealing sculpt. Ultimately you need to do what makes the business run, I acknowledge that. I'm just expressing that as a person who enjoys playing a particular faction, I'm getting frustrated by current options.

Gave the story a MUCH needed overhaul. The beats, characters, and end result are still there, but I honestly like this draft a WHOLE lot better.

Took a bit longer that I would have liked, but here's a thing! http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/99338-iron-quill-the-hunt-the-aeon-society-wip/

1604 words, all ingredients STILL used "I'd like to call the first meeting of the Adventuring Engineers Of Notoriety to order. Louis if you'd take the minutes please?" Pierre Michaux flicked the side of his glass to get the attention of the other two men in the parlor. He had invited Kirkpatrick MacMillan and Louis-guillame Perraux, two of his academic peers and closest companions, over for dinner an hour ago. After Pierre felt the appropriate amount of socializing had been reached, he had decided it was time for business. "Care to explain to me why we're being so formal? " MacMillan asked, slapping his knee after draining the last of the scotch from his glass and looking at the empty glass appreciatively. "I mean here I am trying to enjoy a right sexy Islay, and you're ready to put on powdered wigs and hold Parliment. " Pierre shook his head slightly, taking a drink from his own glass. "We're about to make history Kirkpatrick. I want to make sure it's recorded right so that the historians don't try to add their own foppish eccentricities to it." Louis looked up from the notes he was diligently taking, a thin cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Perhaps you'd like your son to be included in history as well?" Louis asked, causing MacMillan to snort as he snagged the bottle from the center table and poured himself two fingers. Pierre did his best to not react to MacMillan's outburst before saying, "My son has been grounded. Mr MacMillan's amusement at my proper parenting aside, my son needs to understand consequences." "I believe what your son understood was 'that Basiloscope is a scientific instrument, not a child's toy!' " MacMillan replied, leaning back in his seat to watch Pierre's reaction. "Saints above man, that thing is designed to work deep under water. I dunnae think a little ten year old can break it." "See, you say that, but you'll find that statistical abnormalities are much more common place when children are added to the equation." Pierre returned, matching MacMillan's gaze. Louis looked between the two, finally offering, "Perhaps if he had a more hands on exposure to the sciences, he would learn about the necessity for respect?". Pierre looked between the two men, a bit of a smirk breaking through the serious facade. "Fine... I swear if his mother was still around, she'd be having a coniption fit about you two being influences." Pierre raised his voice slightly. "Ernest! You can stop hiding at the top of the stairs and come into the parlor." The young boy bashfully entered the room, sitting cross-legged near the fireplace, and looking to Louis and MacMillan with gratitude. Pierre took another sip of his scotch then cleared his throat. "As the first quest of our intrepid group, I'd like to explore the recent mystery that our comrades in the M&SU have been dealing with." Pierre smiled at something that occurred in his mind, then looked to his son. "Ernest... using inductive reasoning, run us through the mystery as you see it." "Sure thing Papa!" Ernest exclaimed, hopping to his feet and clearing his throat as if to give a report. "Mmm... there have been 4 similar animal attacks that have occurred against soulstone processing and collection waypoints over the past 3 weeks. The creature is supposedly a quadruped with three head, but not entirely a sabertooth cerebus. The attacks had similar notings of Guild articles found at the scene. The report of the Guardsman Tabitha Serling who was dispatched to inspect the claims is 'daft miners who can't hold their whiskey.' " "Conclusions?" MacMillan asked, looking impressed at the recitation. "The Guild are employing scare tactics to cover up stealing soulstones." Ernest remarked confidently. Louis reached for a small satchel he brought with him, pulling out a handful of papers. "Lets see if your opinion changes with a bit more data." Louis commented, tapping some ashes from his cigarette into a clay ashtray resting on the chair arm. "I managed to get the sealed records from my friend in the Guild, and the Guardsmen badges we found all share a singular commonality: they're men who have been dead a minimum of a month or more. Second, the odd substance two of the miners had on them? A variant of formaldehyde. Third, Ms. Serling was just recently hired. One doesn't traditionally send a neophyte when trying to cover something up. Conclusions now?" "Graverobbers." Ernest answered, a gleam of excitement in his eye. The men chuckled at the boys excitement, then MacMillan said, "Aye. This is a honest to goodness monster hunt, and we've got a crack at it without the red tape snares of the Guild tripping us up. So... want to see something cool?" Pierre led the group to the workshop annexed to his house, lighting the kerosene lamp waiting near the door on a hook. The workshop was a dense conglomeration of smithing tools, half-finished inventions, and its newest occupant, a 3 meter tall object covered by a thick tarp. Pierre grabbed an edge then yanked, exclaiming, "gentlemen! I give you the Hekatonkheries." "Looks like a pepper pot with a spider glued on." MacMillan chortled, coughing the laugh down after the other three stared at him. "This 'pepper pot' represents the cutting edge technology we three can muster. I had to scavenge bits from the pedivores to create a power source robust enough for field work, but I think she'll do the trick." Pierre commented, patting the side of the robot with pride. "Gentlemen... shall we go monster hunting?" ~ MacMillan nearly tripped over one of the headstones hidden from the moonlight as he ambled about the graveyard, singing at the top of his lungs. The items the men could identify from the previous disturbances all lead to the cemetery for Guild killed in the line of duty. They just hoped the creature would still be on a spree. MacMillan stopped walking when he heard what sounded like hissing coming from a few rows over. He caught a brief flash of fur, then nothing. MacMillan made a show of stumbling about more, hoping the creature they stalked would sense an easy meal. He began working his way back to the trap they had set up when he saw the razor spines poke out over some tombstones. Still trying to display that he was oblivious of what was following him, MacMillan caught bits and glimpses as he moved: scales and fur, a slightly rotted smell accented by what could have been fresh blood. "Chimera." MacMillan muttered under his breath as he continued to move along, the hairs on the back of his neck. MacMillan rounded a corner to find two men slowly shambling towards him, the moonlight casting shadows over their faces. Their bodies told MacMillan everything he needed to know however. One man was missing an arm, and moonlight came through the shotgun hole in the chest of the other. "Well aren't I just the belle of the ball." MacMillan commented out loud. "Gentlemen I realize you're a bit slow to catch on, but I'm not in the mood for a bite to eat, so in the words of my friend Pierre, alon-sy!" MacMillan bolted off towards the trap they had set, hearing the powerful footsteps of the Chimera behind him, the snake head making a striking noise near where the zombies were. The sounds of ripping dirt, crumbling stones, and finally a paralyzing roar from the sabertooth head chased after MacMillan as he slid to a halt in front of a mausoleum, and took off running to the left, barely avoiding getting hit with the torn up bodies of the guild zombies being flung at him. Pierre began cranking the lever on the side of the Hekatonkheries as he could hear his friend approaching with a frantic "Come on ya stupid Frankenstein! I'll show you what science has to say about you!" Louis began turning pressure valves on the back of the automaton, watching as the machine began to shake to life. The two could see the creature following their friend and were struck by a mixture of terror and awe. It was as if someone had taken the body of a sabertooth cerberus, replaced one of the heads with a razorspine rattler, and replaced the second head with something that was degraded to the point of being unrecognizable. The two men jumped back as the Hekatonkheries lurched forward, the lower body spinning like a saucer as it rolled. MacMillan barely slid under one arm as the automaton barreled head-first into the Chimera, causing a horrendous creaking noise to come out of its frame. The men watched as the two behemoths slugged away at each other, the fast gyrations of the arms rending decayed flesh, and the natural fury stripping away the scientific carapace. Pierre winced as chunks of panel flew off haphazardly, pieces he had spent hours molding. The Chimera's snake head lunged forward when it could get at enough of the Hekatonkheries' insides and hit a steam compressor. The Chimera roiled backwards at the jets of steam, howling in unholy fury. The Chimera bolted off as the Hekatonkheries slowly slumped to the ground, sounding like a tea kettle being taken off the flame. The three men looked solemnly at the automaton, the adrenaline of the fight they had just witnessed wearing off, followed by a frantic run back to their caravan as they realized their one defense was an inert hunk of metal. "So what now?” Louis finally asked as they rode away. “Make a Mk. 2, obviously.” MacMillan replied, grinning from ear to ear.