Ampers&nd

Love it, I'm just wondering how hard it would be to make her look like Rita Skeeter...

it's as much a country as gremlins are a faction.

bacon and cheese both days for me. May get some special terrain done if I get my carnival and commissions sorted.

As they ascended the stairs behind the banks reinforced counter the four made as ragged a team as any you could imagine. The scuffed and worn suit of the gravedigger, grimly clasping a square shape in his inner pocket, the ragged pioneer in his stitched leather and denim, festooned with straps and trophies of hunts past. The battered brigandine and greaves of the weary scrapper, her once gleaming red plates chipped and dull, and finally the garish overseer, overdressed and overcompensating perhaps for a lack of true taste, or understanding of what taste actually was. Nevertheless as they stepped past the last servant into the mayor’s office the figure seated in the polished mahogany chair behind the desk nodded as if he approved of the group. “Thank you for accepting my invitation gentleman, and of course, my lady” N nodded to Kato, who attempted to curtsey as Madame Beldame had taught her, forgetting that she was wearing her full armour and only succeeding in crashing plates against each other and knocking Lyle several feet backwards. “I have been reviewing the trinket you delivered to me after the unfortunate incident of a few weeks ago, and as you delivered it so expertly I have a request to make of you”. N reached into the desk drawer and produced 5 slips of paper, stamped ‘Burgess Casino- open invitation’ in smaller text beneath these words were a listed of rules of entry, but from this distance only ‘no longarms’ and ‘formal dress only’ were visible beneath the mayors manicured fingers. “There is a floating casino, a paddleboat of impressive size that paddles its way from the docks in Malifaux down towards the Bayou delta and back each evening. This alone would not draw my attention, but as well as the usual tawdry entertainment such places usually provide, this particular den of iniquity has a line of work very similar to yours Mr Sin. Huck raised his impeccably shaped eyebrow and smiled, ”It’s the oldest job in Malifaux Mr Mayor, I’d imagine I have competition in almost every casino this side of the breach, and the other, what makes me care about this one?” The mayor did not return the smile; instead he riffled the tickets between his long fingers, before looking Huckleberry in the eye. “Because this particular establishment claims that its workers are in fact able to shift their form into anything their client desires, no lust too base, no wish too degrading. How much would that be worth for a man of your designs?” All the cockiness and charm of the pimp vanished, instead a cold, calculating look appeared on his face, one the others had not seen since our favourite dandy met the unfortunate Mr Pock in the old league station, and indeed one of Hucks hands was even now resting on Pock’s pistol. “If it’s true? Let’s just say I’d be very interested indeed in finding out how they convinced the neverborn to submit to such… unusual… demands. IF it’s true” Once again the mayor’s eyes locked with Huck’s, a slight nod from the thin gentleman broke the contact, and Huck’s hand dropped to his side, away from his armament. “And that, Mr Sin, is why I called you gentlemen to me this evening. From my studies and through various networks of interested parties I believe the head of the Burgess family has come into possession of another artefact connected to the eye you acquired for me. An artefact capable of binding and controlling Neverborn, which in the wrong hands could disrupt the balance within Malifaux and place my own work at risk. In short gentlemen, an artefact that I wish you to steal.” I think it’s time we switched from this rather descriptive narrative which whilst perfectly capable of bustling the story along is quite lacking in the depth of information that can give you an indicator of our anti-heroes reasoning and behaviour, and so we will (rather reluctantly) step away from the descriptive and into the frankly torrid mind of Mr Huckleberry Sin. From his reaction you can already guess that he will be very interested in both the Item and its use, but it’s harder to spot that the emotion which drives him toward this is not curiosity but anger. A deep and broiling anger was flooding through Huckleberry which meant he pretty much missed the rest of the brief conversation, a few questions were asked, payment was promised (which did briefly grab his attention) and the tickets were handed over, along with the instructions to change into something ‘more fitting’ from a Trunk that Mortimer had deposited in Tarquin’s room. By the time Mr Sin had calmed down enough to engage with the others they had separated to collect equipment, and then to meet in Tarquin’s larger room to get dressed. Huck arrived in time to see Mortimer sniffing the unusual looking lock of a large trunk, and cautiously investigating a strange stain on the exterior, “What you bin sticking in this ‘ole then?” Tarquin blushed red, and then regaining his composure berated the cigar smoking henchman about not questioning the methods of his betters, a tirade that whilst both eloquent and demeaning need not bother us here. It certainly didn’t bother Mortimer who chuckled and inserted an antiquated key into the hole, causing the lid to spring open revealing a pile of suits, jackets and dresses of varying sizes and colours (it also released a pretty awful smell which reminded Huck of the graveyards around Malifaux). “These here pretties should get yer looking fit fer a ball, instead o’ a fancy dress party” the gravedigger grinned, Huck’s inner rage was barely contained as it was, there was absolutely no way he was taking fashion advice from a man who would have to spruce up to look homeless. “I think I got this covered Mr chunky, I’ve been dressing myself for a while now” Mortimer just laughed again, and wandered out of the room shaking his head, leaving his stench and the key behind, he turned in the doorway and touched the brim of his hat. “I’ll be out front in the coach, we should make Malifaux tomorrow evening if we set off in the hour, sir.. Oh, and the boss says you should take that nurse of yours, you’ll look better with a couple o’ ladies between you... I’ve taken the liberty of havin’ her sent fer” This just left the party staring at the box of assorted clothing. Astonishingly it was Lyle who dived in first, never having had real clothes before he was rather keen to see what they felt like. After a few moments the rest joined in the root around, and as we are still trying to be vaguely gentle at this point, we will avert our eyes until the chances of seeing someone in their birthday suit has passed. 30 minutes later the group that walked out Salinka’s swinging doors was almost unrecognisable from the ragamuffin parade that had so recently graced the mayor’s office. Tarquin had been delighted to find several items by his families old tailor in Saville row, which just about fit him, and after the saloon girls gave him a brush (which made a nice change to him brushing them off all the time they joked once he was out of earshot) he was almost as dapper looking as the Mayor himself. Huck had kept his own clothes, though he had stopped off in his room to dress in his very best rattler skin coat and blue wendigo skin shoes, I’d go on but there’s not really any way to describe Huckleberry Sin when he dresses to impress, it’s really something you have to experience before you can understand the effect he has on others, particularly members of the opposite sex. Lyle had picked out a blue evening suit with tails and a passable hat. Which of course looked ridiculous on him, (especially with a small, pink and freshly polished piglet under one arm) but then he was possibly a lost casualty in the style war since he turned up in the bayou all those years ago so it’s not a massive surprise really. What would probably come as a surprise was his now sawn-off shotgun stashed in one of his tails. The three ‘gentlemen’s’ appearance was further enhanced by the two beautiful girls stood between them, Kato had shed her regular armour for a fitted leather bodice and plates under a flowing dress, fitting a bodyguard to the gentry, whereas the nurse had found a Three Kingdoms kimono in bright yellow that fit her perfectly, and was loose enough to conceal a pistol under (Kato had given up on the idea of concealment, her sword hanging openly between her shoulder blades, fashion can only get you so far after all. Mortimer was ruffling through a box beneath the seats when they came out “DeBier, DeClare, ah! De Walt!” With a flourish the rotund gravedigger produced two metal plates bearing an intricate coat of arms, which he then proceeded to slip into specially designed clips on the carriage doors. Tarquin looked down on his family crest (An elephant beneath an inverted chevron, flanked by two ravens) and sneered, “What would my dear father think of me attending a brothel, accompanied by ruffians, intending to rob the place, all with the family crest on the door? If it gave him a heart attack at least he’d have to listen to me for a change..” As they boarded Mortimer clambered up to the driving board, next to a dark figure in a long coat with a rifle on his shoulder. The familiarity of his uniform caught something in Kato’s memory, something that was definitely out of place “That looks like a guild guard?” Mortimer glanced over, but the figure didn’t react, turning to Kato Mortimer gave her a lascivious wink, “Yeah... but don’t you worry, he’s seen the light, probably at the end of a tunnel as it happens!” At this rather inexplicably amusing comment Mortimer sank into his seat, guffawing loudly, our friends finally embarked, and their journey back to Malifaux city began.

I do spend too much time thinking about writing, rather than writing itself, and this in turn leads to a rather intellectual spiral of inertia as I start to think about why I spend so much time thinking about writing. Often the simplest thing can cause this, but in the case of this long delay between chapters I can confidently say that few authors would be able to tackle Tarquin de Walt's (shall we say unique?) experiences without at least a little introspection. Of course nothing quite so disturbing ever lies at the beginning of a story, rather we will launch at a more sedate pace, but I will refer you back to my earlier warnings- this is pretty much the point the really twisted acts begin to happen, the mask slips, and the players are tinged in a rather more lurid light than you may have seen previously. You are definitely going to see more of Tarquin De Walt than you are comfortable with. I did, and now (despite the help of several of the guilds best pyschologists, psychotherapists and counsellors), I cannot unsee it. That unfortunately is the peril of being a narrator, all life is your experience, the good, the bad, and the frankly disturbing. You however still have the option of not reading on, and, if you have developed a squeamish nature at some point between tales it would be worth jumping over to the Iron quill where much better writers than I will be creating texts far less scandalous than those you will find below. For those of you who found my previous warnings unwarranted, and the writing simply too tame to deserve such a vigorous piece of advisory propaganda, I present to you the start of the second adventure of Expectations Miscreants: “A Riverboat Named Desire” ---- It took a few days for the people of Expectation to really get over the night of chaos that had ripped through the previously quiet mining town, however no-one survives long in Malifaux without a tough countenance, a resilient aspect and hopefully a pretty selective short term memory, and within a week most of the damage had been repaired (the explorers league was still a gutted hulk, and the league had placed it up for sale at a reasonable price, the whole attack on the building having been seen as rather bad for business). The saloon had made the giant pig-hole in the wall into an amusingly shaped window, the sheriff had splinted his leg and had the mines send down more iron to rebuild and reinforce the jail, and the surgery had been thoroughly cleansed, including a visit by the witch hunters to ensure no taint remained (a visit for which Tarquin was unable to attend having found urgent business in Malifaux, a family affair and utterly unavoidable, we are assured). Our protagonists had settled into town relatively gracefully in this period. Kato, Huck and Lyle had all taken rooms in Salinka’s saloon (Huck never liked to miss a business opportunity, and having seen a lack of supply in the area had booked a few more rooms, having sent to Malifaux for a few ‘entertainers’ for the miners) Lyle, having found the local wildlife significantly less threatening than the Bayou, was happily bringing in meat, fur and leather for the towns traders (along with the occasional snakeskin, in his defence only once was it still attached to a very angry snake, and Kato very much enjoyed helping him rectify that). Salinka himself had decided that with more girls turning up and the recent violence fresh in everyone’s mind, it wouldn’t hurt to hire a guard for a while. Having seen Kato’s blade in action he made an offer, and Kato was more than happy to accept the regular money. Kato also developed a burgeoning relationship as a stage partner to Eva Beldame, her martial training and brief stint as an oiran giving her a grace that was an asset to any dancer, and if anyone thought that seeing the bouncer performing pirouettes on stage was strange no-one was willing to mention it to her for fear of losing face in front of a pretty girl. Probably literally. Tarquin had found himself a different occupation, though he too took rooms with Salinka, he spent most of his time in the newly cleansed doctor’s surgery, having found that his status as the town ‘lawyer’ and his first rate education (and second rate medical skills) placed him as the ideal replacement for the previous incumbent. This also gave him a safe workspace to practice his more esoteric abilities with his new grimoire, and he had a good deal of success making dead rats twitch on command, and even managed to move the eye of the Rattler corpse he purchased from Lyle which he was keeping in the surgeries cold room for practice purposes. A three kingdoms nurse with easily bought morals and some actual medical training completed his cover, and Tarquin found himself in a position of respect he had not enjoyed since he spent a summer instructing the servants to fight each other for food at his parent’s summer retreat in india. So, frankly it’s all going quite well, our friends have all found roles, the events of the Expectation murders are behind us and as far as Malifaux goes everything is pretty hunky dory. How very, very, dull. Luckily (well, for us at least, for a fair few other people this isn’t going to end particularly well), life is never that dull through the Breach, and it was only shortly after this brief sojourn into the land of endless inertia that Tarquin found himself sitting in his surgery perusing the latest papers from earth when a familiar and rather foetid aroma came and tapped him on the shoulder. Mortimer stood far too close for Tarquin’s comfort (and should you ever meet the aforementioned gravedigger you’ll see why, cheap cigars, corpses and an endless supply of badly chosen funereal flowers combine to give him a particular scent that can only be described as wrong in every way) chewing his way through his customary cigar and holding a crumbled and stained letter in front of Tarquin’s nose. “Letter from the boss, guv'nor” Drawing on one of the surgical gloves from his desk Tarquin gingerly touched the letter, had it been delivered by a rabid wolverine covered in its own faeces the envelope could barely have been grubbier, he gently teased out the folded paper inside and opened it, the writing was distinct, and clearly recognisable as the same hand that had got him into this mess in the first place. Your presence is requested in my office. Bring those you feel useful. Tonight at 6. N. Tarquin was surprised for two reasons,firstly because since their initial meeting the mayor had been absent from town, and having concluded their original business Tarquin had believed their relationship to be over. However Tarquin was also curious as to exactly whom ‘N’ really was, and how much he really knew about the darker powers of Malifaux, and in the end he knew the same curiosity that drove him to Malifaux would take him to see N regardless of his inherent cynicism. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be bringing a few meat shields along just in case it got a bit heated. the reason for the second surprise was that the Mayors office in the bank was less than fifty paces from the surgery,and just how filthy mortimer had got the envelope in that short distance was quite remakable. "Tell your master I shall be along this evening. And please stop touching things, this room is supposedly sterile..." Mortimer just grinned and gave the nurse a salacious wink before sauntering out into the street, whistling what sounded very much like a funeral dirge. It took little effort to convince Kato to come along, as the promise of violence was as much of a lure to her as power was to Tarquin, and once she agreed Lyle came along too (he had a job to do for Ma after all) he also brought his new piglet, which he had acquired on one of his hunting trips from who knows where. This only left Huck, who was generally found drinking and fleecing travellers in the Inn, though he occasionally disappeared for a few hours around nightfall when the first girl he’d arranged to come to town would start work for the evening. This left Huck’s days themselves pretty dull, so he agreed to visit N from boredom if nothing else...

I love the brass arachnid, not sure I'd ever field Ramos without him, the ability to reactivate two extra models a turn with the right cards (because his first activation is almost always to give himself the tome then reactivate himself) is well worth the investment, especially with big hitters like Joss and Howard in play. As much as I love summoning spiders, sometimes getting Joss across the table or Howard into flurry range can be much better use of a high card. (also- the times I've top decked an extra re-activate with Lazarus never fail to cheer me up;)) although I don't have a BA model spare, I do have a card if you need one. Other advice would be- Lazarus is a solid choice for Ramos if you want some ranged support, he can lay down a lot of fire between his rapid fire ability, copying Joss/Ramos shoting attack and Imbued energies. as mentioned you can cheek an extra reactivate amongst other actions he can steal from the wealth of constructs around him, and his heal makes him very survivable if there's nothing to copy. Metal Gamin are still good despite the cuddle, magnetism gives them a good burst of speed and they can threaten enemy constructs. The mobile toolkit is amazing, not just for exploding for spiders but in itself it can really up the threat on models like Lazarus and Howard, I've pulled a couple of spectacular turn 5 explosions off over the years when my opponent has left it alive too long too. Rail Golem is potentially a good swap in when you need a beater more than a tank, reactivate gives him more burning to work with as well as the standard benefits, however locomotion is his best ability, and whilst fantastic it is very Tome hungry, and you could be better off saving them for Ramos or the BA. Soulstone Miners make great scheme runners, appearing upfield is very useful, they are durable for their cost and pretty punchy if they need to fight. if you don't want to send them off alone though you can sit and spawn ss, keeping them within range of bleeding edge tech to stay alive a bit longer. The only non-constructs I would definitely recommend are Johan/Johanna for all the reasons, and Willie because he is another good ranged attacker that is frankly a bit too cheap for the amount of carnage he can cause.

I do not portray my protagonists as heroes, because in truth they are not. Curious, self-interested and almost completely amoral in some cases, they are still capable of heroic acts, though there will almost always be gain for them in doing so. The exception to this is Kato, who whilst capable of homicidal acts that would worry even the most stoic of the guild’s torturers, has within her a core of honour and courage that drives her to deeds of true heroism, she never killed anyone in cold blood, and no amount of money could buy her loyalty where the chance of a child being harmed was concerned. This duality within her nature was one of the main reasons she still wandered as a lone mercenary instead of signing up with a troop, or even the guild itself. The cries in the doctor’s house could not have fallen on a heart more apt than Kato’s, and an army could not have stopped her entrance at that point. The door however, did. Kato’s fury vented itself as soon as they reached the building in an overhead slash deep into the sandalwood door, by pure chance piercing between two planks, and sliding down the gap between them till it reached the wooden crossbar, where it became quite stuck indeed. This of course brought Kato to a shuddering halt, knocking her off balance in time for the others to catch up. Lyle was the first to reach her, and after helping her up proved that logic is not restricted to those of higher birth by simply turning the handle of the door, which was, inevitably, unlocked. The darkness inside held no fears for Lyle, his youth in the bayou teaching him that daylight and darkness were twins that held an equal amount of danger, and those too scared to run into a dark cave were as like to get snapped up by a passing gator as the ones in the cave were to find an angry denizen of any one of a hundred different species. The trick was always to be the second one in any position of danger, that way the other grem gets their face eaten and not you (for this reason the common manners in Malifaux of saying ‘after you’ at a doorway is considered a great insult by most gremlins). With this in mind Lyle stepped back for Kato to enter first, The sword wielding brawler was also unafraid of the dark building. Mainly because she’s half psychotic. Kato stepped into to the store room at the rear of the surgery, a large icebox in the corner gave off a gentle mist that drifted across the floor, and it was this mist that had caught and reflected the green light from the main room, the open door to Kato’s left now illuminated by a curling, steaming mass of sickly green. As the mercenary stepped through the door a green blast of energy slammed into the wall by her head, reflexes honed by years of living close to death threw Kato to the floor as another blast tore through the air where she had been standing. A muscled leg shot out and the closest table was flipped over to create a flimsy barrier between Kato and the unseen assailant. As Lyle entered the room he ducked down by Kato and checked his weapon. Huck was stood just inside the doorway, both pistols drawn, both Tarquin and him hidden from the enemies sight. The walls that had been struck by the green blasts were bubbling and slowly melting, Kato looked to her companions, though she hardly knew them she had to put her faith in them to back her up, the slightest of nods from the sharply dressed Huckleberry was enough to signal the moment, as she braced her legs, and leapt over the barricade into the surgery itself. The room was a shambles, boxes, surgical tools and paper had been spilled across the floor, the operating chair in the centre was occupied, not by a man, but by a toddler, no more than a year or two old, it’s skin flayed from the top of its head down to its waist, and these strips of skin help the child up, hanging from the ceiling like a gore-stained marionette. Next to this screaming nightmare a figure in a white coat held a filthy scalpel, dripping with flesh blood, a man in his later years, he giggled as he raised his hand and another toxic blast screeched through the air, this time Kato didn’t even attempt to dodge, it took her in the hip as she surged to her feet towards the fiend, she sliced upwards from right, a diagonal cut that split the hysterical figures stomach open and sprayed a shower of filthy black blood across Kato, burning her flesh and armour where it touched her. Kato staggered back, the poison from her injuries clouding her senses with pain, and the bad doctor stepped in with his scalpel, thrusting it towards her face. Huck had stepped into the room once he was sure the lunatic in the armour had distracted whatever hellish creature was in there, slipping round the corner he saw the slash that should have killed the foetid human, and Kato’s weakness. Huck can rarely be said to be a good guy, but he is a sucker for a pretty face, and the mercenaries face was definitely too pretty to allow this emaciated fool to mark it with his vile toxin. Dropping one pistol he dug into his pocket for his jewelled knuckle duster, and with reactions that bely his human appearance he stepped forward, striking the doctors elbow just before full extension, the cracking of bone and tearing of flesh a brutal counterpoint to the babies screams and madman’s gibbering. The creature stepped toward the child again, moving between it and the two would-be rescuers, holding it’s broken arm close to it’s chest it raised its arm for another toxic bolt, at this range it could barely miss one or the other of them. “Fire in the hole!” Lyle was pretty sure he shouldn’t be shooting at the person he was supposed to be protecting, but at the same time he was pretty sure that the armour would stop his scrabbled together buckshot better than it would another arcane bolt of smelly green stuff. The blast of the shotgun was loud enough in the cramped room that even Tarquin, (still safely ensconced in the other room) ducked away. The pellets shredded the ragged doctor, tearing his ruined arm completely off, and blasting the ragged innards hanging from Kato’s slash into nothing more than scraps of offal on the surgery wall. The pellets also blew out all the windows, knocked Huckleberry from his feet and tore a chunk out of Kato’s thigh, as well as covering her in yet more of the brackish ichor that seem to fill the doctor. With one last gargling chuckle the doctor fell to the ground, and the babies screams halted. Kato looked at the filthy bushwhacker and his smoking shotgun, she knew enough about combat to know Lyle had taken an enormous risk with both her and Huck’s life firing into the scrum, but she also knew that he had probably saved her life doing so. Clamping one hand to her leg she stood and turned to the operating chair, and looked to the grisly child. Who looked back at her, and smiled. Its screams began again and Kato felt an evil presence force itself against her, pushing into her mind, jabbering and fighting, asking her to help this poor child, to turn and slice apart these fools who had come to kill it, protect me, protect me! Against one with lesser willpower this should have smashed aside their mental barriers, creating another meat puppet for the abomination on the chair to wield as an artist weilds a brush, but Kato had more than just willpower to back her up. The ability to see magic she had all her life had been changed as she entered the breach, now she had her own magic, the ability to smash aside magical attacks, to blunt the spells of petty wizards and end their rituals for good. Kato’s inner fire surged forth, shredding the magical assault like a hurricane, her Odachi slashed through the air, once, twice, faster than the eyes of the watchers could follow, the first blow slicing through the strips of flesh that held the demon child up, the second crushing into its juvenile ribs and sending it flying into the shelves, it fell to the floor, but no sooner had it hit the ground than its wounds began to heal, the flayed skin pulling back towards it and dragging it to its pudgy feet. Which is exactly when Huck dropped an oil lantern on it. During the creature’s mental battle with Kato, Huck, Lyle and Tarquin had all moved up, and now the three of them took great pleasure emptying every last round of their weapons into the burning, boiling lump of flesh until its agonising screeches finally stopped. The four companions stood in silence as Lyle picked up a water bucket and threw it over the ruined corpse. Untouched by the fire a small bundle of mechanisms twitched where the child’s head and torso should have been. They all flinched into combat positions as the surgeries front door exploded inwards to reveal the sheriff and the two guild guards from the bank, their eyes agape as they took in the scene before them. Tarquin, the only one of the group untouched by the black blood and buckshot that had filled the room moments before, stepped forward and fired his last round into the head of the ghoulish doctor. “Here’s your man, he was obviously another foul resurrectionist attempting to free his comrade, but these good citizens have managed to subdue him. I suggest we burn his corpse and that of his unfortunate victim, but I believe the threat to the town to be over.” The sheriff looked across the carnage, from the stinking corpse to the charred, fleshless infant. “Reckon we could have been in trouble had you strangers not been here. We don’t get this kind of thing in town often, but I’m grateful for your assistance. Why don’t you head back to the hotel and get cleaned up. The mayor wants to see you. All of you"

he can only hire Arcanists or mercenaries as he lacks any ability like Marcus/Levi to hire from outside his faction. That said Lazarus can be great with him, Assimilate works great with many of the constructs you have, and he adds some serious ranged punch that you can find lacking in arcanist constructs. The rail golem is another expensive but good hire, whereas both metal Gamin and Railworkers are great cheaper constructs to field, though somewhat slow for true scheme runners. Good models that lack purchases at the moment are the mobile toolkit (can make howard/joss evil, and is a good cheap scrap marker when you really need it) the large arachnid and the Scorpius. I actually think another Ramos box is a good value buy, I built a Large arachnid and a scorpius out of Howard and the Brass arachnid, more steam arachnids are always useful and I guarantee there's someone (usually a levi or hoff player) who'll buy Joss off you:)

Memories are a wonderful strange thing, whilst we are unable to change the past, often leading to deep regret, our memories are quite adapt at shuffling people and places around with ease, leaving a poor remembrancer such as myself lost and confused. Luckily on this occasion the words have stayed fairly true and my rather more wandering mind can use them, as a navigator uses the twin moons, and pick where I left off so long ago. Kato may not have been the fastest runner in the town, her armour alone weighing more than most people carry with them, but the thought of more innocent lives under threat gave wings to her feet, and she arrived at the ruined building in time to see a disfigured shadow slope up the stairs. Clambering over the wreckage of the front door she was halfway up the same stairs when Huck and Lyle caught up, both brandishing their respective firearms. The top of the stairs was a maelstrom of flesh and junk, the remains of the unfortunate wastrel has somehow become fused with part of the pigs movement mechanisms, and the Explorer’s waiter had sprouted wood and brass legs from his back and chest. Disjointed and crablike the abomination was using two of these inhuman limbs to punch holes through the door into the eastern room, whilst Pocks’ mobile corpse was slamming itself against the occupied door to the west. The screams of the inhabitants could be clearly heard as the door was shaken on its hinges, and Pocks’ mangled face, gore still dripping from Huckleberry’s callous execution had begun to force its way through a narrow gap, hissing and spitting into the room beyond. Now Huckleberry always had a soft spot for a pretty lady, and damned if Pocks didn’t have the good manners to stay dead, he drew a bead though the ornamented banister and began ploughing shots into the beast’s side, using Pocks own weapon against his magically augmented corpse seemed somehow fitting. Kato however had followed the crab-waiter construct into the room, with a delicate flick she up-ended the creature, and a final thrust pinioned it to the wall. The blow severed the monstrosity’s spine, and as Kato stepped in to withdraw the blade the waiter, dribbling a necrotic ooze, coughed and died, dropping a thin cane to the floor, a cane that practically shone with magic in Kato’s eyes. The scene in the corridor had reached a peak of violence some moments before, and by the time Kato returned the combined weight of fire from the Gunsmith, Lyle and Huck had succeeded in putting Pocks down, this time a dedicated ressurectionist would need a sponge and a good deal of glue to bring him back. As Kato and Tarquin arrived on the balcony a strange phenomenon occurred- a line of green vapour stretched through the air to connect a gem on the cane (the unfortunate Pocks’ last truly valuable item) to the eye in Tarquin’s pocket, and then carried on toward the eastern room, as Tarquin and Kato’s eyes followed the trail they noticed each other watching the same thing, and an understanding that both in some way had magic within them was silently formed, reinforced by the fact that the others on the landing didn’t react to the emerald smoke, even when it passed straight through them. We pass now with that smoke into the eastern room, where Eva and the explorers had barricaded themselves in, Eva appeared quite distraught (although in reality she was trained to deal with situations such as this long before she was allowed this far from the Star) and the gunsmith, who now sported a ragged gash down one side of their face, quietly reloaded their last rounds into their custom pistols. A prompt and delicate knock on the door startled all four occupants, by its politeness amidst such destruction if nothing else, and the stern countenance of Tarquin the supposed lawyer peered through the abominations damage. “Could I trouble you to let me in?” The furniture was shunted aside and whilst Lyle stood guard the strangers gathered, Tarquin and Kato made a beeline straight for Eva, almost as though they were following an invisible track. Both of them stopped before her, their eye’s fixed on her brooch, an abstract golden harp she had carried for many years. As Kato’s face darkened and her hand rose Tarquin stepped in: “Your brooch, would it be an object of old Malifaux perchance? Ah, I see from your reaction that it is, I’m afraid that the item in question may be what is drawing these beasts to you. It’s quite obviously cursed you see, we are trained at the law office to spot cursed items you know, so I am afraid I’m going to have to confiscate it..” Eva’s hand covered the brooch, it was her one family heirloom, a remnant from her ancestors trip through the breach, and proof they had survived it. To part from it would be hard, almost impossible, she began to protest at such harsh treatment but was soon taken aside by Huckleberry, who, through smooth words and kind ministrations, managed to convince her that the item really was bad news, and that should she relinquish it he would be very grateful, and attempt to recoup its value as much as possible. Brooch in hand he nodded to Tarquin, and the trio moved downstairs once again, collecting Lyle on the way. “I don’t know what you wanted this for rich boy, but I’m assuming it really is cursed and I didn’t just fleece a pretty bauble from a prettier lady for nothing…” He handed the brooch to Tarquin who removed the orb from his pocket, with a delicate clock the two pieces snapped together, the green fog growing around them and stretching to the cane. “May I?” He plucked the gem from its setting on the cane, and slid it flush into the hole on the Orb. A draft of cold, foetid air, like the last breath of a dying creature older than time itself crept through the room, and Tarquin and Kato saw this draft catch the air, and pass through the rear of the house, into the backstreets. Drawing her sword Kato followed, shrugging Lyle moved with her as Tarquin gestured to Huck to move ahead while he brought up the rear (a position that to this day you are most likely to find Tarquin in any escapade I may add) once into the street the green mist led straight as an arrow to the rear window of the doctor’s surgery, and even those non-magical members of the party could now see a sickly green light emanating through the cracks in the wooden slats, and the eerie sound of a child crying from within...

Thanks for taking the time to read through my response, im still a bit confused though as to what it is you have an issue with, do you think there are too many skills overall, or do you not like having to specialise with a character, preferring all players be generally good at most things?

on the Union Miners thing- they work well in Headhunter, have them close to a beater or two, beat face and then companion out and collect the head afterwards with the miner. they have some other more tactical uses (dropping two schemes at once that you can use for shiny things like the performers ability etc) but in general I'd agree that there are better ways to spend the SS

I feel that you are being harsh here, as pretty much all the skills mentioned there are quite different, unless you are going very general indeed. Being good at maths can help with knowing the odds in a game of chance I agree, but it won't necessarily make you a good gambler, you still need to read other players, bluff, understand the rules of the game and maybe even cheat, none of which are maths based skills. Blacksmithing and engineering are very different indeed, one involving the creation of metal goods from base ore in most cases, the other being the ability to assemble those goods into a working machine- imagine the blacksmiths building the parts for Stephenson's rocket, Stephenson didn't have the skill to smelt and hammer those bits into shape, but they couldn't have imagined the machine he was going to build with them. Appraise is knowing how much something is worth intrinsically, but that doesn't mean you are necessarily going to be able to purchase it at that price, the store owner may want more regardless of your professional opinion, or perhaps you think you can pick it up cheap and sell it on, That's where Barter comes in, it allows you to negotiate for a price, appraise may help you barter, but they are not the same skill. Farming and Homesteading- alright you've got me there, I'm not sure the difference but I'm a city boy so maybe that's me;) Navigation/Track/Wilderness/Notice are again different but complimentary skills, Navigation to me is using a map, compass, sextant or the sun etc to decide on a direction, the ability to find north easily or get from point A to point B swiftly. Track is following someone (or something), knowing how to read trail signs, smell poop, possibly even tail a suspect through the streets of Malifaux, You can't follow someone on a map outside a harry potter book so navigation can only help so much. Wilderness to me is about survival in the wilds, some of which will no doubt be helped by Navigation (to water holes etc) and Track (to hunt game) but it's also all that Bear Grills nonsense where you know which Malifaux grubs are edible (few) or poisonous (almost all I'd imagine). Notice is actually paying attention to stuff, which again can be helpful in the above scenarios but not as good as actually having the skill (you might 'notice' a shallow depression of darker sand, but you may not know it's an indication of water if you don't have wilderness) but notice is useful in lots and lots of situations that the others would be useless in (working out who the richest boy at the ball is for instance) I'd let these skills be used alternately if they didn't have the main one as they are close enough, but I'd increase the difficulty of the flips if I did. Finally pickpocket and stealth- Stealth is definitely helpful when getting close to a mark, but the ability to move silently does not a pickpocket make, that takes dexterity like you wouldn't believe (went to a Victorian museum as a kid, they had a 'victim' decked out with bells a la Oliver, if you got one of the purses off without a sound you kept what was in the purse, no-one did it all day). likewise being a bit handsy isn't going to help you sneak up on that Ten thunders Brother guarding the shrine. These skills are all going to have crossovers at times, and definitely complement each other, but I feel losing any of them would detract from the characters that use them, hope this helps with the differences:)

It seems to me that this is one of those skills where the flipped card is secondary to the storytelling abilities of both the Player and the Fatemaster, although an FM could give a few hints if he flips exceptionally well. The key line for me that limits the size of the phantasm is: When created, the caster must declare all of the details of the illusion, such as what it will do, and how it will be sensed. to describe something small in this level of detail will obviously be much easier than something complex, compare these three examples- "I want the door to disappear completely from view, replaced by the same style wallpaper that matches the rest of the room, it will look just as old and stained, and will be peeling slightly at the top" "I want the guard to clearly see a penguin with a rainbow afro and painted face pass him from east to west, he will be able to hear his footsteps and heavy breathing, as if he has been running, his clothes will be brightly coloured but tattered looking, stripy trousers held up by braces over a sequinned blue top, in his hand will be three red balloons on strings, he will nod to the guard as he passes but as he reaches the corner a bloodied female left hand will fall from his pocket to the ground with a squelchy thud, the penguin will stoop to retrieve it, look back at the guard then sprint away round the corner, it will remain running, visible and audible until the spell expires" "A circus will pass along the street before the guard, he will see 4 wagons all pulled by brown and white horses. The wagons will be enclosed and brightly painted wood. Each will advertise a different act- strongman, acrobats, ballerinas and flying monkeys, in that order. The first wagon will be driven by a ringmaster in a red tailcoat, black spatz and a top hat, which he will doff to the guard before cracking his whip over the horses heads. The guard can hear circus music in the air and the sound of children laughing, as the last wagon turns the corner he will hear a woman's voice scream for help, and the sound of the whip again" the first one is likely to work not because it is small, but because there is no obvious reason to disbelieve it, the second is more complex but described in enough detail that it should be difficult for the guard to have a reason to mistrust his eyes and ears. The third scenario is clearly too big, and a clever FM could think of many things the fated forgot to describe that could arouse the guards suspicions (from the top of my head- who's driving the other three wagons, where did they come from suddenly? why can't he hear the horses, or the creak of the wagons? where are the laughing children? picking fault in my own writing is weird...) I would allow my players to go as big as they want, with the provision that they need to give me the exact details of the illusion, and that I will be picky, of course once they flip if they red joker it I may add extra details in for them like sounds etc. That's just my take- a Magia that rewards better roleplaying with better results:) hope this helps! (also you don't need to add immuto, you may add them if you wish) <edit, right, shouldn't have used a 'penguin' as an example..>

I managed 4/0/1 at Deliverence with her, only losing out to Levi in Interference (I was outclassed by my opponent in that game, so I'm not going to blame the strat) came 4th overall with only diff between me and second. I'm terrible at Malifaux so Ironsides is clearly a Hero;) best moment- Ironsides turning it up to 11 in my first game and taking Mah Tucket from unharmed to dead in one activation:)

give me a bit to read up and I'll try and give you my impressions:)

It's all relative, the Neverborn just want to stop the Tyrants (who are all inherently evil) taking over again, Zoraida/Lilith/Pandora only let the humans back in because of the prophecy in the first books, so arguably they are the good guys. Arcanists as an ideal represent a better deal for the little guys, even if in reality that's not the case, if you do a good thing for someone, it doesn't matter to them if you have ulterior motives. The Guild and Ten Thunders are in much the same boat, most masters thinking they are doing good but in reality supporting a corrupt system, be it the one in power or a criminal one. The Ressers- well yeah it's pretty hard to argue that they aren't evil as a group entity, but Molly and Kairai do good things in a horrible way, and Seamus learnt his lesson and helped stop the death spirit the second time around. Gremlins are too stupid to be moral, but the clever ones are kind of fighting for their homes which could also be considered a good act from a certain point of view. Of the outcasts it's hard to say, Levi for all his screwed up experiments seems linked to the fate of Malifaux, and is working with the Neverborn to stop the Tyrants, Jack is a bad egg, as is Hamelin, (Tara I'm unsure, works with a Tyrant but no story has shown her motives yet) but the rest are pretty amoral, the Viks saved the world once (for a nominal fee) and The Friekorps seem like a relatively nice bunch of mercenary killers. But that's off the topic (again) I like the OP's attempt at an overview, it's great to get someone else's POV on good/bad and the faction in general, and the discussion from it has been good too:)

Leak/preview, same difference. I'm still of the opinion that Mei is evil, she knows she serves the bad guys and us spinning lies to trick other good people into serving them too. Definitely not a nice person;) I'd agree lawful evil on ramis in hindsight though.

Bengt- its the section that seems to be from teh end of a story just here- http://wyrd-games.net/community/topic/109235-june-29th-lots-o-goodies/

The leaked story from shifting loyalties portrays Mei feng in a very bad light, she is definitely NOT a good guy, admitting lying to her followers about fighting for the people etc. Ironsides is more about people power and is a good guy in the way John Frost was (admittedly more punchy) morally they are fighting for something good but their methods are questionable, as is the person they take orders from. If we go in good old D+D speak: Ramos- Neutral Evil (possibly true neutral but he wants power too much for his own ends for me) Ironsides- Neutral Good (I admit, I'm biased here) Marcus- True Neutral (he really doesn't care) Colette- Chaotic Good (wants the best for herself and her girls) Rasputina- Chaotic Neutral (a bit mental, slightly out of control but she recognises that December is bad and works against it) Mei Feng- Lawful Evil (I may go so far as Lawful neutral- she follows the rules to the letter, even if that means bad things happening) but that's just my take;)

On the scale issue, one of the old gw hq bodss I worked with told me that even at 'true scale' they used for lotr hands and other anatomical parts needed to be either exaggerated or shrunk to make sense visually, apparently that was the reason for the awful original Arwen model, as the actors/actresses had to give their OK on the models, and liv Tyler thought her original sculpt looked too fat with an exaggerated waste, so the sculptors redid it as close as possible to reality...

This topic has been really interesting to read, and the fact that it exists at all is pretty impressive, on the topic or whether or not a games characters can influence its player base, it reminds me of back in my GW days and one of my players,Mo. Mo was a young Muslim kid who turned up one day out of the blue, played a game of 40k and loved it, bought a starter set and became a regular on the local scene. Now Mo worked hard, REALLY hard, after school every day bar Thursday he had temple, he went to a special school every Saturday and Sunday and on top of that his parents had signed him up for early A levels that he had to study for, he had one night off a week and he spent that every Thursday mashing his models into every game he could arrange. And painting swears in aramic onto his tanks. He was a lovely kid, a popular in both his school and the store, so every so often one or more of his mates would come along and see what he was always jabbering on about, they would play an intro game, love and then look for an army, and eventually there would would always be a point where they would ask- "where are the people that represent me?" And we had nothing. Closest match was undead Egyptians. Or they could mail order horrifically expensive metals from 10 years ago. But in the shop, right there and then, not one model that these kids could put on the table and see themselves. You could physically see the keen leaving these kids, and they would drift away, only Mo sticking around as usual. These kids loved the game so far, they wanted to play more and one of their mates was already a fanatic, but without that final touch of seeing themselves on the table, we couldn't seal the deal. When I see people on these forums asking for more models of type (x), or body type (y) I think of those Muslim kids and agree that if you can be a little more diverse, why wouldn't you be? Now Malifaux does pretty good in my opinion, and I love that, but more diversity is always going to be better isn't it;) TL:DR If I had sidir 10 years ago I'd have hit a lot more sales targets;)

I'd think of it more that most animated constructs are legal, as long as they don't contain any organic parts, think of the Story in Crossroads where the Hoffman and the Guild raid a racetrack for constructs- they don't care about the pure non-organic constructs, just the ones with animals inside. There's also mention in the fluff here there and everywhere that Rail Golems, spiders and other mechanical creations pottering about the place and working in factories etc, so I'd say a little construct wandering around wouldn't attract any undue guild attention as long as it wasn't obviously magical. Now something that looks like one of Levi's abominations- that's a different kettle of fish, and I'd expect the guild to be less than impressed, like wise a 20 foot tall death dealing machine, regardless of how mechanical it is.

Once again the vagaries of time and my irresponsibility as a true record of passing events have left me lost, where did we go next? Our intrepid fated are resting in the burnt runs of a gentleman’s club, several corpses (including a steam-powered pig) litter the floor, one wall has collapsed completely but the upstairs appears fine. For now, anyway, besides the room they are accompanied by several bystanders, and an air of faint surprise after Huckleberry’s actions, but the present does not help me unravel the past, where to next? I think Tarquin may be the solution to my amnesia, as he sits and reads his newly acquired grimoire amidst the carnage he finds that whilst most of the words are gibberish (probably written by a poor person, the penmanship is atrocious) the occasional paragraph seems to settle rather well in his mind. Rather too well actually, as the words become pictures, and those pictures begin to tell a story of a set of tools to capture a being of immense power, tools cursed to claim the souls of those around them. One of these tools stands out ever more, Meridian’s Eye, a round black stone, scarred on one side by four gouges, with a deep hole drilled at a 90 degree angle to them. This stone is held in what for any other description is a golden harp, with 4 strings that stretch to fill the gouges left in the stone, holding the orb in a delicate oval cage. The image of the black stone eye begins to spin in Tarquin’s memory, he had seen it, not in his dreams but within his grasp, no, not his grasp, of course he wouldn’t touch it whilst it was still inside… oh. He leapt to his feet and snapped the book closed, this burst of action startling the motley group seated around him and coming pretty close to getting him a face full of buckshot from Lyle, who was in fact beginning to enjoy himself, he hadn’t shot this many things in quite some time. “We need to go back to jail. Now.” His brusque manner aside, the small group had no better ideas, and rather than knock the hat from his head (Kade’s most restrained idea), they asked a few questions, to which Tarquin explained that he had an idea what was causing all this. Huckleberry had a burst of gentlemanly fervour as they left however, ushering Eva and the remaining Explorers upstairs and barricading them in the western room, with the gunsmith and a promise to return. An uncharacteristic burst of courage caused Tarquin to lead from the front, hurtling across the main street and past the gallows to the Jail, where he burst in on a surprised sheriff finishing binding his wounds. “I must speak to my client privately, it is of the utmost importance that you leave immediately to allow me to do so” Obviously the sheriff’s first instinct was to tell Tarquin to sod off until the morning, but here Huckleberry began to shine, with a smooth tongue and a charmed smile Huckleberry talked the sheriff into coming down to view the carnage at the explorers league, after all it was up to him to report it wasn’t it? Huckleberry led the lawman away whilst the rest of the crew gathered around the bound necromancer, who’s gibbering and wailing quietened drastically as he became aware of the company around him. Tarquin’s words were to inspire even more wailing than usual however. “I need his eye” Let’s not go into too much detail on how exactly the got the stone eye out of the prisoners head, the only person with the right tools for the job had just left with the sheriff, and a massive sword isn’t the most delicate of tools, so perhaps we can forgive Kade for the mess, in any event it was Lyle who eventually worked the bauble free, and it was his knapsack that they then used to cover the ressurectionist’s head, hiding the blood, brain matter and other injuries from prying eyes. They finished cleaning up just as the sheriff returned. Tarquin’s imperious tone had carried him pretty far this evening, so he saw no reason to stop bossing people around now. “This man is certainly a dangerous spellcaster, why he almost cast a spell on me had these good men not intervened, you must not make eye contact with him at any point do you understand? The hood must stay on him until he hangs tomorrow.” The sheriff nodded, at least he now knew that the dishevelled mage had passed through due process, and would hang on the morrow after all, which cheered him up a little. He thanked the ‘lawyer’ for his help, and sent him on his way, grateful to have his house back, and the prisoners mutterings had certainly quietened down. Back in the street the four strangers gathered to see what exactly Tarquin had claimed from the prisoner, and he showed them the strange stone he believed may be responsible for the creatures attacking the town, as unremarkable as it looked to most of the group, to one of them it was confirmation that something was very wrong, as it glowed and boiled with a sickly green mist in her sight. Kato had known for a long time that she could see things that others could not, even as a child she had been able to tell when a charm sold on the streets earthside was a true item, or merely an elaborate sham, since crossing the breach however that instinct had become focused into the ability to sense, and in extreme cases see, magic. Her time on Malifaux had taught her to instinctively distrust magic users, Kato had little time for the guild in general but believed them when they said that magic needed controlling, several of her more treacherous jobs had involved guarding petty wizards in their search for power, and none of them had ended well. Kato looked at the stone with distaste, but she also noticed that the tendrils of smoke curling away from it all headed in the same direction, back toward the explorers guild. As she turned to follow its faint path her sharp eyes caught movement back in the ruined ground floor, and it wasn’t human movement. Her sword left it’s scabbard in the briefest of moments as she sprinted towards the shadows. “We have some more company!”

awesome stuff, the more source material we have the better:)

Deliver a Message is almost guaranteed Vs Ironsides unless she plays it very cagey indeed, I've yet to not lose 3 points to that one.