Brewmaster

Tangentally same boat. I'm attempting to make a purchase, Clicked on "Submit order" and got a "Show that you realize our shipping is delayed yo", clicked on OK, and am just taken back to the current screen with no purchase being made.

Soo... I kinda want to put a hat and monocle on that piglet that's sitting up... Which makes me want to dress them all up. Some days I just have to wonder I do like the looks of the models, I'm super bummed that there's not really a lot here to even get me to 150$, much less the 300$ I'd have to spend to get me to that Bête I REALLY had my heart set on. *shrug* such is life.

The thing that Fatemasters follow is that they don't do Challenge flips. In order to handle "discard a card" mechanics, the Fatemaster's characters get access to Card Points. You might have to do a little fiddling, but there are a couple options. If you only need one suit (like sprint), then you can make it "discard a card point to take that action" (this is how the Terror Tots are worded in the Fatemaster's Book. If the suit actually does matter, then you have one of the players flip a card for you (like how the Stuffed Pig is worded). Hope that helps!

Quick note: the Upgrade has since been errated to say "...Other Kin..." since the upgrade was STUPID powerful the way it was (It also has been given the "Once the attack action has been used, discard this upgrade") To cover the questions: 2) Totally cool to do that. 3) You can take a Defensive action, but only a Defensive 1

So, due to a bit of luck, and impulsive buying, I ended up with two boxes of McMourning, and I had a LOT of fun with this list: McM -Make a bubble undead -scalpel slinging as a ranged (might be mixing things up since I'm doing this from memory -transfusion Sebastian -Transfusion -make corpse markers generic upgrade Chihuahua (I built that stupid thing, I'm gonna freaking use it! ) 2 nurses 2 canine remains Flesh construct Bête Noire -don't heal generic upgrade So, things I'm specifically digging: Poison Bombing Hardcore Blenderizing attacks (I hit two turns with the Nurse using the damage bump on McM and him blendering my opponents models) Position manipulation (managing where McM and Sebastian are made for some interesting times) Things I wasn't digging Corpse marker on Sebastian was kinda dumb Coming from a faction with lots of heals, this was a STOOOPID awkward crew to work with. What are some suggestions on additions that would help me enjoy this little dip into Rezzer territory?

I was honestly hoping that Mah would have had the "real" realization as a result of the Big Gremlin Conference: the biggest spoon leads.

Quickie response: As long as the proxy is obvious, 97% of all tournaments are completely cool beans. Official rules say official proxies have to be at least 2/3s "Wyrd" product and not confusable with other models

minor adjustments to the story to help it work a bit better. No big changes, just changed a few bits that didn't look right as I read it over.

Oddly enough, aiming for Jude and Gwennyth Paltrow in Sky Captain

Dig the story man! I'm always a fan of messing with the narrative structure

The best model for me for Old Cranky conversions is one of the old metal Young Lacroix (Justin's Avatar pic). I scuffed up the hat a bit, Greenstuffed a long beard on him, and gave him a shotgun instead of the pistol (TtB weapon sprue to the rescue!) I also made a Mancha out of Metal Lenny (with STOOOOPID patience to switch the log with a Bayou Gremlin). If I remember right, the log piece on plastic Lenny is seperate, so it'd be super easier to use him. When I run S'omer, I tend to go "sort of Summoning" which is where he works for me. In that instance, having 8 Bayou Gremlins and having 1 Slop Hauler works pretty dang ol awesome.

Man, my ears are burning for some reason... In all seriousness, I will pay in orphan puppies to get the red translucent Bete... I'm just saying.

Clear plastic dowels for a flying base. I should probably upload what I did for mine, but I feel your pain on the Skeeters

Yup... Over in the Game Sessions thread, I hit a little bit on my ideas for tying double destinies or more together to help dial the campaign length down.

There are two ways I handle it: if the information is important to move the story along, I don't leave it to chance. That's not to say I'll waive a check, but I don't like the "well they failed their spot check, so they don't find the key for Basement Level 2." Another way I handle it is through my rolEplay. I have horrible voices that I apply to my characters, and assuming the character isn't suave, I'll shift around, stutter, and do the things a shifty person does. My players TOTALLY pick up on that, and it doesn't QUITE break immersion. Worst case, Shadowopal's response completely works. The way I would describe that information is "Because you have ranks in..., you can reasonably assume..." With descriptors of the ranks, you can tailor the narrative for the player (Rank 5 = "you TOTALLY know this bit of info since you're an art aficionado" and so on).

Congrats on picking up the book! I can understand how the sessions thing is a bit hard to follow, so let's see if I can help: EVERY session, people progress once down the pursuit track. If you have 5 players, and 5 Destiny steps each, that means there will be 25 sessions. That's 2 1/2 pursuits the players can complete by the time the game wraps.

Monsters gain card points based on their rank (minions have 1, Enforcers get more, etc). Totally cooked into the game. Card points, Fatemasters Almanac would be the key words you use when looking.

Personal Opinion time: The core three I look at are S'omer, Ophelia, and Grem-raida. S'omer's big metaphorical stick is that he's a generalist: He does a lot of strats and schemes okay (with the emphasis on Interaction ones since he's a summoner.) Ophelia and Wong are the Turf War masters against small numbered crews and big numbered crews respectively. Grem-raida and Brewmaster are the movement/ interaction masters. If it involves people getting somewhere, they're your choice. Brewie helps with crews with a lot of AP to spend given his lockdown abilities.

Bit of a double header on this one, the Halloween episode, and this week's game: I had a bit of flavor for Halloween, giving the players a dungeon crawl, and a creepy monster to fight. At the start, the players learned that Natalie purposefully gave them bad Intel to make sure they weren't working for the mayor, and just because she was curious how they'd react. She then told them of Black Jack Cappeti, a privateer who absconded with massive treasure to Malifaux. The big thing behind the fight was to help continue to teach the players to look beyond the "punch em till they fall down" way of combat. The players got some cool gear, and learned through Black Jacks journals that December refers to a singular entity, along with another handful of spooky hooba-jooba. Tonight's game took place 3 years down the road. My plan has been to progress the game through the first breach, and really have a spanning epic. The big drop tonight is the players were framed for a crime that could spark an all-out war between the Mayors crew and the Council, and they're about to confront the framer. I definitely think this leg of the story is the moral landmine field ^-^

kaBOOOM! So, the first 1200 words were easy peasy, that last 400? like pulling teeth from a mule X_x

1595 words, all ingredients used "Abby, dear?" "Yes Terrence?" "I do believe I've solved the mystery of this broken Grandfather clock!" "Oh do tell!" "Abby, I believe this clock had an allergic reaction to this bullet!" For the past 20 minutes a young couple had been carefully pacing around the Guild Office, examining every detail intently; the man wearing a dark grey practical looking suit and sporting well-trimmed hair and a pencil thin mustache , the woman with a loose brunette ponytail wearing a slimming mint green dress. Watching them move about and occasionally glancing at the setting sun was a third person; a Scottish officer in charge of the precinct with both arms crossed in front of his freshly laundered uniform, and an irritated tap being generated by his recently shined shoes. At Terrence's declaration, the officer cleared his throat and commented, "No foolin! I guess I tagged the clock when I was SHOOTING THE BLOODY GHOST!" Terrence shook his head before saying, "Geist, old sport. Of the genus Polter. Common misconception, happens all the time." "Absolutely dear." Abby added, crouching to look at the floor in front of the clock. "Though if he were bloody, I shant think there wouldn't be more evidence to work with. Did you see the geist dodge the bullet, Officer MacDdonal?" MacDonal pinched the bridge of his nose as he slowly counted to ten before replying, "No... I was more focused on the safety of my person because I was being attacked. Sorry to disappoint..." "Ahh, none of that old sport!" Terrence interrupted. "Its like my Uncle Vance once said, 'sorries are like promises; they get bigger every time.' No point in doing some heavy sorry lifting when there's a mystery afoot!" "Two feet actually darling." Abby spoke up. "It seems our geist has a taste for Guild issue boots and..." Abby licked her finger, dabbed it on the ground, then dabbed it on her tongue. "I'd say it's about a few blocks away from its appropriate haunt. How many Guild issue boots usually find their way over to the butchers Officer MacDonal?" MacDonal thought for a moment, finally glad at having tangible progress. He went to his desk and withdrew a small deep red ledger with a thin ribbon bookmark attached to it. "Carlyle and... Dokes looks like it. You thinking they're trying something?" MacDonal asked, glancing between the two. "Well if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and puts on an elaborate paranormal ruse for the past two weeks to keep people from coming to this building, I'd say it was a rather vindictive duck." Terrence offered, dusting off one of his sleeves. "And since we have rather concrete instances, I must inductively ask 'what is here that is not elsewhere?'" MacDonal mulled the question over, then instinctively reached for his pistol as the gaslights in the room flared vehemently, then died out. "I... am going to assume you are rather vigilant about the whole 'making sure your office has enough of a given resource so a dramatically appropriate act like the lights flaring out is made even more so?'" MacDonal hissed out a shush, then closed his eyes, trying to get acclimated faster. "I'm also going to assume this buildings construction would prevent random drafts of cold air from otherwise convincing me of any paranomal shenaniganry." Abby offered, a faint outline in the darkness. "Would you two do us all a favor and SHUSH. It's hard already trying to keep track of where you are, AND make sure we don't get attacked!" MacDonal barked. "I say we could just use that ominously glowing green mist over here." Terrence replied, eliciting a grumble from MacDonal as the trio approached. The mist rested about ankle level, but steadily billowed up on itself until it stood slightly taller than Terrence. As the trio watched, the mist began to coalesce and take on a more humanoid form. As two hollowed out sockets formed for the eyes, MacDonal snapped his gun up; an action that was halted by Abby. "Don't be ridiculous darling, you've murdered a clock, do you really want the death of that coat rack behind it on your conscience as well?" She asked, glancing to watch the ghost form simple digits. "Terrence dear I do believe this debunking might just have to be rebunked." "You took the words right out of my mouth... And expressly in that order! Time to commune with some spirits!" Terrence said, cracking his knuckles. "I'm afraid all I brought was my hat flask, and all Officer MacDonal has on tap is that DREADFUL brandy we tried about a month ago." Abby replied. "I guess that will have to do, though you SHOULD consider having better liquor on tap old sport! Helps with the morale and cuts down on people willing to run from the precinct building for reasons above and beyond the ken of a normal mind's understanding." Terrence commented to MacDonal as he pulled out a salt shaker from his jacket pocket. Abby poured a few drinks while Terrence proceeded to shake an entire circle of salt around the forming creature, calmly humming a tune to himself. MacDonal stood in shock at the placid emotions the couple were displaying, finally shaking out of it when Abby offered him one of the four drinks she had made. "What... Why... " MacDonal began, trying to process the oddity of the scene. Abby gently touched his shoulder and said, "Best to save the questions for the geist darling, those are usually more interesting. Do you need any chalk, Terrence dear?" "Way ahead of you Abby dearest." Terrence replied. "In no time at all, we'll have a brand new set of gently used supernatural answers and this troubled youngster should be well on his way towards geist graduation." Terrence carefully drew a set of runes cradling the salt circle he had made then stood, accepting the glass Abby offered as he looked at the creatures final coalescing. It was a young man, barely 15. His clothes suggested upper class, and the gaping wound in his incorporeal chest suggested how he died. The creature stared at the trio with a wild gleam, causing MacDonal to take a long draw from his drink. Abby stepped forward, tightening her ponytail before saying, "Spirit from beyond the darkness, we bind you. From the pacts beyond all, heed our words. We wish to have words, then if it is within our means, we will release you to your peace." The spirit stared at Abby for a moment, then the calm face seemed to melt into a confused one. "I'm dead?" The spirit asked, "that... that's not... how could that be?" Abby motioned to the spirit's chest. "Perhaps that would provide a hint?" She said. As the spirit looked down, the wound closed up, presenting a perfectly whole chest. "What hint? What are you talking about?" The spirit asked. Abby crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Young man, I do not have the patience for falderal. Do you remember gunshots?" Abby asked. The spirit seemed to shimmer and shudder, the circle of salt vibrating. "There we are. Do you remember running from the shots? Perhaps the danger was following you?" A spark of green flame caught at the edge of the circle, beginning to swirl around and try to move the salt. "Young man, you will show me proper respect. Quit that nonsense right this instant. Now, the danger was chasing you. It was also following someone important to you?" The spirits features shifted into one of extreme agony, covering his ears with the palms of his hands as the spirit dropped to its knees. MacDonal watched the ongoing scene with a mixture of fright and awe. Terrence simply patted MacDonal on the back while taking a swig from his drink. "Impressive, isn't she? That's why I married my Abby dearest." MacDonal stared incredulously at Terrence before exclaiming, "She's talking to a ghost!" Terrence shrugged. "Sometimes you don't need a sword when you have a sharper word." Terrence replied. "And its a geist old sport, should probably keep track of that." The two looked back with a flash of green light as the spark reached a full gout of flame with the features of the spirit stretching and writhing in pain. "Young man, I will not tolerate that language! Now if you're QUITE finished, it's time. You're dead. Your death was unfortunate and heart rending, but you need to accept that. Your time on this world has wrapped up. Let the living handle the living. You just handle being dead." The spirit unleashed a window shaking howl causing Abby to shout, "Don't you raise your voice to me! I'm being perfectly reasonably polite here. Do you WANT me to do this the mean way? From what I've heard, having your entire essence run through the wringer is about as comfortable as the least comfortable thing those who regularly experience uncomfortable things... well I lost my train of thought, but the point is obvious I think. You are dead. Time to move on." The circle exploded out with a wave of heat, knocking MacDonal down. As he stood, the couple were clinking their glasses together. "Well I believe that handles your geist problem Officer. We're off to solve an unexplained death I'd say... 30... 37 years old." Abby commented, pulling on a set of white gloves. "Let the higher ups know we wrapped the case, so there's no need to send the exorcists." "Chalk up another win for Terrence and Abby Bowden!" Terrence exclaimed.

When I started in v1 of Malifaux, I began with Ophelia, and absolutely LOVED the fact that I got funny AND effective. Malifaux 2E has just began to open up the options for people who like the obviously superior faction The listings above are excellent options. Personal Preference on where you should start: The Kin Boxset The Bayou Boss Boxset The Swamp Hag Boxset

Alternate response: I know we're all 'Winners', but which child is your favorite?

Yay formatting!

It was the kind of hangover that started wars. Were he not used to the noise, Wong might have found the growling staccato of attention-grabbing pain distressing. After a few moments of flopping around like a new born sow, Wong finally got some feeling into his legs and wobbled his way upright. The room around him was a disaster zone of revelry with unconscious bodies strewn across, on top of, and hanging out from every space. Flashes of the previous night sloshed out of the swamp of his memory as Wong managed his way towards the still standing table. --- "Wong ya ol swillpot, how dem dresses holdin up fer ya?!" Ulix shouted as he slapped Wong on the back, leaning heavily on an exquisitely carved mahogany cane with a boar tusk handle. Wong lightly dabbed at his fu manchu and adjusted himself before replying, "My kimono is just fine. You might say it gives me a leg up on most people." Ulix let out a guffaw as he ushered Wong into the ramshackle barn where several others were already milling. "'Swhat I like about you, you can roll with it! Might as well take a look around, we got a couple more people we're waiting on." Ulix said, shambling to one of the multitude of kegs set up in the room, snagging a mug from one of the smaller gremlins near it. Wong was wary about accepting the invitation since anyone worth their salt knew Ulix was a dirty liar, but he certainly didn't want to look like a weakling by being the only one to not show. A couple of his Bugs kept pace behind him, tugging at their cloaks as they catalogued the room. "Oh loosen up a bit." Wong whispered. "Nobody will pull anything this early in a shindig. Might as well rub some elbows." --- Wong winced at the roaring wave of the the water he poured from a pitcher into a cleanish looking tin cup. Glancing to one side, Wong saw a small puppet staring at him, a mockery of a Gremlin wearing a porkpie hat rimmed with four leaf clovers. "Good to see the old lady's keeping tabs on us." Wong commented, fishing around in his robes. The puppet held open one side of his coat, pulling out a gnatty bag with a powerful odor. Wong reeled back as he took the bag, emptying the sludge into the cup. "Good ol walleye with parsnips... best remedy I'VE ever seen. Give her my thanks." Wong told the puppet as he took several deep breaths, then forced his way through the brief horror of the remedy. --- Wong could tell when she walked into the room by the pockets of silent males that travelled the room. The crowd split, and Wong finally saw the Gremlin that had everyone talking: Trixiebelle. She was in her element and loving it, working the crowd like a banjo. And behind her was a woman Wong expected more people would be talking about in the future: Mah Tucket. Mah had been making a name for herself by pulling the most daring raids in recent history. Even the Lacroix had to acknowledge that that spoon was a force of nature. "Well howdy, tall blue and handsome." Trixiebelle offered to Wong as she saddled up to him. "What's new?" "Well this party just got a whole lot prettier for one." Wong bantered back, giving her a chuckle. "How's Trixs?" "Can't complain." Trixie smiled. "Mah's got me sweating so much, I've worn out two of my favorite outfits." Mah strolled up to the two, carrying several mugs in each hand. "Sounds like a lot of whining from someone who just scored us 3 cases of top shelf and enough Scrip ta make a banker cry." Mah exclaimed, slugging back one of the mugs in an expert juggling display. Trixie offered a simple curtsy, causing several of her Gremlin entourage to fall out of their seats. "Seems like a downright proper shindig, Wong." Mah continued, "What's his angle?" Wong shrugged. "With Ulix, the only thing to assume is that it's a stack of Scrip and some fools he expects to part." Wong's ears perked as he saw an odd site: two of the Brewmaster's shinobi entering the party, flanking a young man hunched over with a keg on his back. The hairs on Wong's knuckles always stood up when he saw anyone from the Three Kingdoms; it was primal, instinctual. But the Brewmaster was a unique case: he seemed to come and go as he pleased, not forwarding any agenda that Wong could find. It might very well be that the Three Kingdoms folk simply tolerated him, which helped ease Wong's ire a bit. --- Wong blinked the brimstone from his eyes as the foul remedy hit his stomach, his stomach roiling out a protest. Wong looked over to see the puppet was gone, and the room was quiet once again. Wong felt for his fu manchu, realized with a chuckle it was roughly plastered to a stuffed squirrel decoration in the corner of the room, and proceeded to make himself look presentable. One of his Bugs had safely tucked himself in a corner and had a deathgrip on Wong's special bag. "No wonder it was quiet this morning." Wong mumbled out loud, wincing at the percussion of his words. With a caring heel to the midsection of the Bug, Wong gingerly took back his bag, the comforting voices rushing back in. You were in danger. Oh don't be such a doter. We both know no such thing could have happened. This one is important to the Grand Scheme! The previous events WERE dangerous! "Welcome to the world. Turns out I can trip on a twig and break my neck." Wong offered, sitting cross-legged to help with the conversation. Agreed. Though falling for the broken one's goading is something to avoid in the future. --- "All I's sayin is that ain't nothin special bout some hooch what don't involve time an mistakes." Ulix exclaimed, earning a mixture of agreement and grumbling from the crowd that was coherent enough to listen. "I ain't sayin the Brewmaster ain't special, I's jus sayin gimme 5 years an some patience and I could put up a fight." Of all the Gremlins who laughed, it was the apprentice who drew Ulix's attention. "You think I'm jus sayin some gullyfluff aintcha? Well, this here floor is your podium squirtstain. You elucidate why I'm wrong." The young Gremlin stepped forward, holding a clay cup in one hand, and a small clay jug in the other. "Well, you're not entirely wrong. It is certainly a path that is long and arduous. But you must find the path to begin with, a task none can train for." Mah belted out a laugh. "Ya know, you might have more people backing your plays if you used actual words instead of that camouflaged nonsense." The apprentice simply smiled, and began placing three small clay cups on a stool he moved in front of him. Reaching into the folds of his clothing, the apprentice withdrew a small red clay jug with an almost black stopper. "Perhaps my words do obfuscate a bit. A demonstration then, and a free sample to accent it." The apprentice offered, instantly gaining the attention of all gathered around. The Brewmaster's selection of impressive drinks and the word "free" was a combination any self-respecting Gremlin would kill to be involved in. Mah stepped forward, eyeing the apprentice curiously. "Seems you got the floor, boy." Mah said, motioning for him to continue with her mug hand. The apprentice nodded politely, then poured a small amount of golden amber liquid into each of the three cups. "The Brewmaster expects only the best from his employees, and has gifts to ensure this quality is met." The apprentice began, slightly nudging one of the drinks slightly. "This drink is called 'meifumado', one of the earlier concoctions in his brewing cycle. We'll have a little game. I will whisper a word in each ear of the first three who will partake, and if you are worthy to follow in the footsteps of our path, take the drink and tell me the word the following day." The apprentice looked to the gathered crowd hanging on his words with every breath. The apprentice motioned to Mah. "Would you like to lead by example?" He asked, the crowd turning to Mah in unison. Mah stuck her chin out and slid forward. Gently picking up one of the cups, Mah held it out for the crowd to see, then said, "Time to show you how a real woman drinks", knocking it back with the crowd erupting in drunken agreement. The apprentice stood on his toes, whispering quickly, then slapping away the hand of an overly eager Gremlin who thought he could steal one of the cups. Ulix hobbled forward eagerly. "Might as well do some showin off myself. You're in charge while I'm out Penelope." Ulix said, looking to the hound who had been lazily watching the festivities from her bed in the corner. Ulix looked to Wong. "Join me? Can't do more than kill yah. Course... I can understand if it disagrees with yer... fragile constitution." By this point in the party, Wong was like any other Gremlin and enjoying a healthy buzz. With Ulix's declaration being punctuated by the rolling tide of Gremlin snorts and chuckles, Wong valiantly exclaimed, "Hold my bag and watch me drink this pegleg under the table!" The two knocked back their respective drinks, then got their words from the apprentice, a cacophony of affirmations running through the barn. --- Wong tried running through the next events of the night, hoping the room would provide clues. The long burnt arcs of floor across the floor and ceiling were probably his fault, along with the marginally crispy passed out Gremlins slumped in awkward poses around the room. Penelope was still sleeping on her bed with what looked like a leg tucked in her front paws. There was a half-standing tower of playing cards in one corner, and a set of gremlins with cards stuck in their foreheads. Wong turned to see Ulix mumbling back into consciousness. Wong chuckled as Ulix went through a similar motion, finally muttering, "How long I ride that boar Mah?" Ulix blinked comprehension back into his eyes, seeing Wong staring at him. "You dash-fired muckender. Not bad." Ulix said, giving Wong a nod of approval. "Where's my stick?" Wong motioned. "Its over there by the dead chickens. Probably want to pour some shine over it first." Wong replied. "Looks like Tubba Twig's been near it." Ulix winced either from the sight or from the pale green he was turning. "Oh come ON now! Can't I just have one favorite walking stick without having to burn it in a week?" Ulix exclaimed, crawl-sliding his way across the floor. "You boys want to shut your yaps for a moment? Some of us are trying to have a hangover here." Came Mah's voice from outside against the door. The two turned to see Mah tucking her head around the corner, blinking bloodshot eyes. "An stop talking to yourself when no one's talking back Wong. It's creepy." The three sat in the quiet moment, listening to a rooster crow several houses away. Mah finally broke the silence with, "You guys got anything? I'm drawing a blank." Ulix rolled to a sitting position as he began wiping off his cane. "Might as well have been bird call in fer all I can remember." Ulix chuckled. "Guess them boys have somethin goin fer em." Wong could finally stand on his feet for more than a few moments, and headed towards the door with his bag in tow. "How bout yerself?" Ulix asked. "You're a might quiet there." Wong shook his head. "Best I can say is I woke up before you did, so I call that a win." Wong replied, dodging the mug Ulix threw at him. Wong offered a nod to Mah as he stumbled out into the blazing morning light. "Guess the old guard's still got it, eh?" He asked. Mah nodded with one eye closed and the other squinting. "Aayup. It takes an iron gut and a fistful of clovers to make it out here... You know someone drew some spectacles on your face?"