Sunspotter

Part 2: In which the Bad Ideas take flight

Part 1: In which a very disturbed man speaks of the finer points of angering lady justice

Good news, in the space of me making my last post and now, I have found my laptop bag! It was somehow at my house despite multiple people telling me that I’d left it somewhere! There’s a comment I vaguely remember about gift horses and mouths, so I shall not dally on this any longer. New thread time! Yes, It’s time for yet another of these repositories of homebrew insanity, but this one is far closer to my first, insofar as it’ll have singular large aspects that require a huge commitment to see how they do what they do, but rather individual bits and pieces that can be played with by Fatemasters and fated alike, but as you can probably guess by the title, this time around, we’re messing with a rather hush-hush kind of new toy I said it and I meant it, this isn’t going to be a carbon copy of Robots, though it may share similar elements with it. it took me a little while to accrue some of the facts for this dumb little thread (and a good bit of awkward googling) I finally feel confident in actually dropping this monstrosity like a sack of potatoes. Also, this is thread may be edited, I’m going to check the various features in TTS once I get it, and depending on some of the content, some crunch may be added or altered gently I’m actually going to put in a little bit of a general content warning here. The big difference in this thread from robots is that this one is going to involve the making of these zombie accessories, and a decent number of the gruesome details involved therein. If you don’t want to see some weird stuff, this thread isn’t for you. Then again, I also feel that in the insanity of the ressers faction as a whole, this warning is also kinda moot because let’s face it guys, if you’ve paged through the core books, you’re probably a bit more than ready more than ready for this kind of stuff. As per the suggestion of the mods, I’m going to be spoiler my posts in this threads. So once again, a bit of blood and minor guts are in this thread. This is creative necromancy people, not your daddy’s one and done zombies. If you’re going to make a cool zombie, you’re gonna have to desecrate a few corpses. As one final disclamer, I’d usually say don’t do this, or don’t try this at home, but really now I just don’t want to be held accountable. Anybody that would isn’t going to be stopped by any sort of gentle advisory, that’s what swat teams and/or exorcists are for

No problem at all. I already put a general content warning in front of anything that could be considered gory. and if you were, don't stress about taking any amount of time. I realize asking "what's your policy on gore" on a forum based largely on games full of rotting undead and cannibal cults is kind of like walking up to a bar owner and asking "what's your stance on problem drinking".

Hey, I just wanted a clarification on particularly Visceral content before starting up a new thread because of the faction it's going to be focused on I'm starting to get deep into the finalities of a new homebrew thread, and despite this being a setting where humor can get macabre, and where models are rocking out with their guts out (yin and toshiro come to mind) Necromancy always treads that line of being incredibly dark, and I don't wanna get hit with the Banhammer (or even the warning whiffebat) because my thread about making zombies went a bit too far into blood and guts for the mod's liking. as a bit of an example, the lietmotif I'm using for the thread is a parody of those "trying way too hard to reach the kids """Hip""" textbooks", only if it were written by a maniac intent on teaching the finer points of nercomancy through the transformative power of horrid, horrid puns. I'm not going step by step, but some squicky details have been left in for right this second for emphasis that what the fated is doing in the process of making these undead is rather stomach churning

IF ANYONE DOES NOT LOVE THE LORD (dramatic pause) JESUS CHRIST (dramatic pause) LET HIM BE ACCUSED O LORD COME AMEN. (The fact that I love Hellsing should surprise nobody. Anyone liking Hellsing on this forum shouldn't be a surprise) but in all seriousness, I think that given that magic in the Malifaux universe is highly mentally based, faith and belief would both be strong catalysts for magic, giving it the predefined structure that it needs to manifest, either directly as a spell, or as a manifested power personally, I'm a big fan of applying a direct structure of memetics to religions in games, that gods get their power from belief and/or fear, and use that power to re-enforce that belief. as far as it's impact, magic is already mentioned in the holy books of most every world religion in varying lights of favor and disdain, and with there being multiple sects with multiple views on various issues, it wouldn't be hard to imagine that different sects would have views on soulstones, magic and the like. For the undead, nephilim ect, Malifaux is seen as a warped, perverted plane where horrid things happen, and I could see most people seeing it as a world closer to hell than earthside, especially if Dante's divine comedy still exists, some people would probably compare it to limbo.

This is amazing! (and really close to how I imagined brilliance worked) this also gives me some ideas for fun stuff to do with brilliance, and how it might react to atypical victims

Soooo… my laptop bag (probably) got stolen, which sucks, because it had my Player’s almanac in it (plus all my art stuff). Thankfully it didn’t have my laptop in it, so I don’t have to worry about that for right now, and the positive side is I think some of the core content is burned into my memory at this point. In the meantime, I wanted to make one more post right here before kicking off yet another thread. The good news is that if people in this thread do like my writing (I legitimately have no clue to be honest) the story for Cumulonimbus is going up at or by the end of the month, plus this post will have its own story, like all the previous ones in this particular thread. On the other hand, I kinda miss my old catalogue format, and may be returning to it until my next couple posts in my threads, so no longform for just a little bit Personally, I like to give a bit of time between my homebrew posts so I don’t end up annoying anyone, or feel like I’m trying to dominate the forum, I love this game to death, and I want to give it whatever kind of help I can. Usually, that help is in the form of homebrew, plus a little writing if it can be helped There are no words, facing down a starving mauler. They are useless, contrite; to speak is to waste breath that could very well be keeping you alive. There is no space to remember who you once were, or why you fight. To remember the past is to forget the urgency of the present. Either you keep yourself there, or you’ll be pulled back by gushing viscera, and missing flesh evicted by hellish talons She used to remember her life. She was homesteader. Traveling with her husband and son down the trails of Malifaux, going to a new settlement where they could start a life of peace together. They took a bizarre path, trying to avoid the bayou and the mountain. Trapped between two bad routes, no right way to go but forward. The journey was fraught with peril. Wagon wheels were stuck themselves in the mud every chance they got. The strong men fell ill from sickness at what felt like the drop of a hat. The low passes were little better, even the smallest drops could take the life of an unlucky traveler. Young Edwin wasn’t allowed to leave the wagon Nightfall came when it pleased. When it did, the darkness threw shadows like death on the walls of the wagon. Everyone was afraid, the watch came back with stories of devils dancing in the trees, and cackling gremlins, hiding in the underbrush. Every morning, something was gone, always when they seemed to need it most. Food was the most common, but that could be accounted for, even if by error. Full, unopened boxes of candles do not simply wander off. some days, even a member of the caravan, happy and healthy the day before, was gone without signs of a struggle, even a single trace they had been there before A week in, it happened. A great raid launched from the bayou, aiming to take the caravan by force. The sentries did their best to help the wagons get away, but still many were lost. She felt so helpless as she ran, but knew the wagon was okay. That Edwin would be safe She wasn’t safe as she ran, but knew what to do. As long as the gremlin had no gun, a kitchen knife served well enough to cut them down, or her wandering stick to bash their skull in. after little time, it was reflex. She pried the knife from its handle and lashed together a spear. She crept low. All she had to make it to was the open pass, and they would be waiting. By high noon, she saw the train on the horizon, and ran towards it with tears in her eyes. She checked the wagon to find her husband, but no son. He was on the patrol. The gremlins stole so many. She wept horrid tears, and wanted to run back and search. With a heavy heart, he forbid her. The sun dipped below the granite mountain, and as it did, the sounds of the wild surrounded the wagons, shapes lurked in the long shadows of the high peaks. Many reached for their guns. She reached for her spear, and none could stop her from holding it. Disaster came lurking. The Tyrant appeared on the high cliffs, and the beasts showed themselves. He snarled in a voice like thunder, his skull-headed staff poised high and commanding. He ordered the animals like an army, he would have them eat their fill of the bounty they had brought into what he thought to be his territory. But we control the granite mountain. We control the high pass. It is our territory, not suited for frail men pretending to be great alphas. As the beasts slithered from the shade, we lay behind them. Our eyes glimmering like stars of malice in the tall brush. The men fought valiantly, their guns and steel striking their hardest against the rattlers and scorpions, some curs even turning against their masters in their cowardice. She however, knew the fire of the wilds. Her spear moved with passion driving it deep, and fury twisting out the blade, seeking yet another target. She roared in defiance, charging the tyrant. He tried to weave wicked magic, but her soul burned too bright, and her gaze burned him In that moment, we struck at once. We slew the second wave of quarry that thought themselves so cleverly hidden. We charged alongside one who we would soon call a sister, and later a mother. The tyrant was driven away with fear in his eyes, fear of the true kings and queens of beasts. She asked us our name and she heard it well. We saved many, but in the skirmish, her husband lost his life. In one last act, she asked if we had seen her dear son, if we knew of the bayou. Our eyes viewed the gremlins take him. Wordlessly, she headed to the swamp, and we followed with her. In witness to the unconquered earth, she joined the clan. She kept pace as well as she could, as though her blood flowed as ours, she had not yet conquered her beast. The trees began to gnarl and twist, and as we walked, a trumpeting screech blared from the underbrush. A great boar reared, ready to charge. In that moment, the blood of the clan churned through her veins. They fought as equals, she and the beast, exchanging scars and fury. Over time though, the victor became obvious. We ringed the makeshift pit, torches alight as it’s charges became reckless and hateful. She grew tired of the fight. Their eyes met, and she opened her mouth, the scream of a true alpha coming up from her belly. The beast froze, only to break past its fear and do its best to charge her down. She would not allow it. even the mere threat of a charge, and the beast halted in its tracks, cowed by fury vastly eclipsing it’s own. She looked around to us, watching as we rode our beasts. With one hand, she showed both mercy and dominance. She grabbed it’s fur and leapt onto it’s back. They cried out in unison. In bloody catharsis. Their fury was no longer separate, dueling forces. Their fury was now one. She was truly one of us. We pursued the tracks of the gremlins, only hunting when necessary to feed the war pack. We found where they went, down to the city. Down into the sewers. We thought them lost, but she knew what to do. It was mother’s intuition. She took a single momento from her pocket, a favorite toy she’d clutched in sorrow, tossing it foreward for the boar to take the scent, fishing it back with her spear. Soon it was clear we weren’t simply following a hungry boar, but a predator following a trail of scent. The sewers were easy enough for all of us to transverse, lines of riders, with her at the very front. Their hideout was discovered. The gremlins hid in a ramshackle den in a dry cistern. She heard children crying for help. She heard her child cry in need. From that moment, she was unstoppable. She was destruction, hated, malice, vengeance, all given form into one body. Their fear was too great to even let them shoot their guns. They were pounded to pulp, and in the joy of the moment, she found her young. With no words, only emotion, they embraced, and in that moment, shared the bond of the clan. She took the young in like her own, and raised them in the way of the clan. Not all of them have passed the trails yet, but almost every one of them has their own beast. She showed them the power of the blood, she helped us find a home not even the tyrant can reach. And she built up the clan like no other has before. That is where you are, neophyte. In the pits pounded to dust under the hooves of a clan mother. You spoke of dreams, of facing down a mauler. If you have an ounce of fear within you, death shall come, and you will feed nature. But I see it in your eyes. That fierce gleam that shows the blood. Now go, show us that you have the Blood of Clan Glint Eye flowing through your veins. Clan Glint-Eye A large group of what many would consider barbarians that are fiercely loyal to one another, Clan Glint Eye is a familial group of cavaliers that share little to no family relation, but all of whom are brought together by the practice of beast magic, and a singular concept that they simply refer to as ‘the blood of the clan’ often foreshortened to ‘the blood’. The exact identities of the people who founded clan Glint-Eye are unknown, but much of their legacy survived in the clan’s rich oral history. While the birth names, familial relations, and reasoning behind coming to Malifaux (or even if they had to come in the first place) have been lost to time, the story of Gideon Glint-Eye, Rida Soul-Knife, and Calvin Bone-Jaw, The ritual that “awoke the blood”, and the taming of their beasts could probably be repeated by start to finish by any member of the clan. In more recent times however, as the clan actually began to take territory of it’s own, the history of the clan was recorded in carven pictographs near the most revered sites of the clans, namely the natural “altar” under the stone cliffs of the badlands, their sanctuary at slate-ridge, and most recently, in the Burning Pit, a bone-dry cistern in Malifaux’s labyrinthine sewers found and cleared by Clan Mother Kalista Gore-Tusk. During the capture of the burning pit, a large number of children were liberated, many of whom are now adults, and were the first large group of children raised in the Clan’s way of life. While not all of them showed immediate signs of The Blood’s presence, those that stayed manifested signs one at a time, taking to the back of their own beast and joining in the clan’s rides. The Clan Beliefs and the Tyrant It is said that the blood of the clan is the blood of the first, mightiest beasts to walk the world, finding a new home in foreign veins. As such, members of the clan are thought to be greater than mere beasts, possessing a birthright to rule over the beast or pack they choose to be an alpha to. More often than not, this contributes to the Clan name of the rider, derived from some aspect of their mount. This is because, in part, the clan believes that they take on aspects of the beast they pair with, becoming stronger from not only their training, but from becoming closer to their beasts. In riding the beast, they become one in fury, able to exercise their separate emotions and wants as one, joining together in a common bond of battle. It is rare that a rider and beast spend the sum total of a day apart, longer periods of distance have been known to be traumatic to both. Often, the beasts ridden by the Glint-Eye are either carnivorous or omnivorous, so that the beasts and riders may take their meals at the same time. Having an herbivorous beast isn’t unheard of, but it has been noted that either the rider’s eating habits rub off on the animal, or vice-versa, though both are still noted as having the unbridled fury of a starving apex predator when riding. On the hunt, beasts and humans act in tandem, beasts using whatever natural defense mechanisms they’ve been endowed with, and their humans using whatever weapons they were trained most efficiently in. mostly, riders will use melee weapons, but it’s also entirely possible for them to use ranged weapons from javelins to guns The clan is led by the Forerunners, those who have served the clan well or long enough to earn the title of Clan mother or Clan father. Their duties to the clan include settling minor disputes, planning the direction and purpose of clan sojourns, and completing the rituals of the clan when called for. This isn’t to say the leaders of the clan don’t fight, on the contrary they’re often the fiercest, but rather they are only called upon to fight when needed most. The harmonic order of the clan is uniformly broken by a single individual known as the Tyrant. His description would make him extremely easy to pin down for any familiar with the individual in question; tall, dark-skinned, wielding a shillelagh, and adorned with various objects of beastly prominence. His claim to be the true alpha of all beasts is seen as a ridiculous claim, and any attempt to control the mind of a rider’s mount, even if vastly unsuccessful, Is seen as a grave offense If the clan were to have it’s way, the tyrant would be rode down, his body trampled to dust by the strength of the forerunners, and what little remains consumed by the beasts, giving him a final chance to atone to his crimes to nature. Joining the Clan There is a formal, ritualized process to joining the clan, though the selection process is far less vigorous. Usually, if the blood is strong in the fated, they will often have dreams of wild combat, usually with the beast they are destined to ride. Those seeking answers for such fevered dreams have a tendency to run into the Clan in one way or another, being brought before the Forerunners and told how to attain their beast. Once the fated has returned with that mount, they are brought for a period of study and bonding with their beast. Afterwards, they may pursue the goals of the clan alongside them, or ride with their other compatriots and carve a new path for themselves and the clan Advanced Pursuit: Glint-Eye Cavalier Requirements: -The fated must have a tenacity of 3 or higher -The fated must have a physical aspect higher than 2 -The fated must prove themselves an alpha to a beast, and mount it (Challenge: True Alpha) The fated has found their destiny, and it’s rip roarin’ pissed! The fated’s future mount lies before them, and they must prove that they are to be respected in single combat. In order to complete the challenge, the fated must complete the following steps: -The fated must reduce the beast down to less than half wounds in single combat -once sufficiently wounded, the fated may make the following (0) Tactical action: Snarled Command: Make an opposed willpower duel against a wounded target, the target’s final duel total reduced by their wounds below half. If successful, the target gains the following condition: Pecking Order +1: this model suffers on attack actions against targets with the snarled command action (Fated’s Defining Suit): Just lay down: Increase the Fated’s final duel total by 1 Once the beast has Pecking Order +3, the fated may attempt to mount the target with a Might flip opposed by the target’s grace flip. If the fated succeeds and takes the Snarled command action again, the pair becomes bonded (and automatically friendly towards one another), and the challenge is over, and the fated may advance on the pursuit Steps 1 Beast Bonded 2 Mounted Warfare 3 Beast Blooded 4 Legacy of the Clan 5 Beast Souled Beast Bonded The fated gains a mount in the form of a beast that remains loyal to them, and whose lifespan is elongated to match their master. The mounted beast shares a characteristic with the fated (EG Living), and is large enough to mount as a steed with minimal encumbrance. The fated gains a self-assigned clan-name, probably based on that mount. When mounted, the fated and beast share the same turn, and share a pool of 2 AP (plus additional, if generated by either), using the beast’s movement and charge speed. 2 attacks may be made on the charge between the fated and mount, both from one or one from each. If dismounted, the beast mostly acts on instinct, but in a way that the fated would find favorable. The fated may choose to remount at the end of any movement that would bring them within one yard of their mount. (Special note: Yes, this does mean that a construct fated would probably mount some sort of construct beast, the same rules applying to undead, but with FM fiat and sufficient reason, it woudn’t be terribly hard to imagine a fated riding a mount especially connected to them In one way or another, with maybe a few strange looks. As for what qualifies for a mount, in terms of the minis game, think 50mm base (40 minimum) 4+ legs, and unable to form truly cognizant thoughts. It should also be noted that a somewhat smaller beast such as a wolf could be scaled up to riding size with additional wounds added) Mounted Warfare The mounted beast and it’s rider have begun to move in sync, and are all the swifter for it. add 1 yard to the mount’s walk, and 2 to its charge. When mounted, all walks actions and charges made by the beast ignore the effect of difficult and dangerous terrain if it they did not already Beast Blooded The Fated gains a greater bond with the beast, each feeling the smallest movement of the other, and able to channel one another’s fury. When mounted, the fated and beast gain the following ability Regeneration +1: this character heals 1 wound at the start of each turn during the dramatic time In addition, the fated and mount gain an additional AP to their shared pool during the dramatic time (outside of additional AP, if generated by either), and if the fated ever gets dismounted, they may issue one command to the beast which it will follow on each of its turns. Legacy of the clan The fated has heard the history of the clan, and the stories of old only drive their spiritual bond with their mount deeper, to the point where they feel they can channel their mount. The fated gains a special ability their mount has (such as bearskin armor) and may make melee attacks their mount could make, only with an AV derived from their own stats Beast Souled There is no difference between the fated and their mount any longer, they have become a singular entity. The fated and mount may choose to either act separately or on the same turn. If the fated and beast act on the same turn while mounted, they may choose to pool the AP they would both generate. If they would act separately, the fated completely controls the beast’s actions on its turn. If the fated is mounted during a charge but is not sharing the beast’s turn, they may elect not to participate in the charge and may choose separate targets on their turn. The fated and the beast sense through one another, and if in line of sight for one, a target counts as being in line of sight for both. The fated may mount or dismount as a part of any normal move action incurring no penalties on either their own or the beast’s turn. The fated also gains the following talent Rules of Nature: The fated may take two (0) actions (either the mount’s or their own) during their turn as long as they are mounted

One thing I'd say when talking about giving a character a new manifested power, the best thing to consider is "Why would the character have this power" Loping charge (while it sounds to me more like it could be doctored in as a talent rather than a manifested power), for example, mechanically shows that the character is more likely to try and channel the charge into one big hit, it would be emblematic for a character who would rather hit hard once than more precisely twice. More than likely, a character using this would be the brawn-over-brains type, the brick wall that would want to charge through rather than at otherwise, if you'd want to give a character a manifested power, my first word of advice would be looking at the character you'd want to give the power to! Think about what they do and specialize in, and then look at the game for models that have a similar purpose or function to the fated to see where they might go! say the fated is a gunslinger, do they wield a rifle? are they precise like Hans, or maybe evasive like a trapper or Nino? if they wield pistols, are they focused like a Latigo, or wild and reckless like a Lacroix? perhaps even bold and daring like German hulk hogan Von Schil? Bows? Are they focused Kyudo archers like the thunder archers, or fast, practiced shots like Ulix? or maybe they wield heavy guns like a samurai... or like Fuhatsu if they're melee, you have plenty of points of reference, Precise fighters like Santiago or The Lone Swordsman, big angry brutes like Izamu or Killjoy (or Cojo like in your example) Or somewhere in between, like perhaps the Juggernaut fighting style of Toni "I'm sitting on the turf war marker, tell me othewise" Ironsides, or maybe they fight like a pinball, bouncing between targets like Ma Tucket or Misaki? As far as magic the world is your oyster, basically anything with Ca in it is ripe and succulent with potential conversion, for non casters as well! even in the case of mostly melee characters, do they have a dark secret? perhaps their prowess comes from a strange source, or they're ready to unlock the next stage in their martial development, and everything that comes with it Even social characters do have some easily extractable tricks from the main game, Lynch's crew has plenty, same with Lucius, but this is one place that I'd suggest going into more homebrewed content, what's the one thing they could do if their very will was made manifest by Malifuax? I really hope this helped, and if you'd still have questions, I'd be happy to do my best to try and help you out!

I finally got to page through a copy of Into the steam, and I’m honestly really impressed at all the options offered! I was worried that my original stuff was going to be broken and/or overpowered, but it seems like it may have ended up falling neatly in line (albeit enlarged limbs w/combat integration and crushers would be incredibly silly). While I don’t yet own it yet seeing as I just started on a new job much earlier today at the time of writing, it’ll be a bit before I can afford it. if there’s going to be any editing to my earlier posts, it’s going to be dealing with number of slots taken. Also, as a side note, my brief glance through the gamin/golem section made me fist pump, I had always thought there was a link between the two and it was awesome to have it somewhat confirmed. Now I can’t stop wondering what a fire golem would look like. Or a wind golem for that matter To a degree, what I’ve been writing may also fit that same design model, the different unique augments I’ve been thinking of have been aligning suspiciously well with the Immuto, I’m sitting on about a dozen and most would take minor to no tweaking to make them directly related. While the last was fire themed, This one (spoilers!) is definitely lightning themed. Indexing them also made me realize that I haven’t made one for the legs yet. I should get on that! I mean, fated lose legs too, don’t they? They deserve crazy homebrewed things too. Speaking of which, I’m probably going to try doing a few more non-arm focused prosthetics next update, to give people a break from my recent rhythm of wall of text followed by advanced pursuit Last part I swear before we get to the wall of text, I’m going to be updating the formatting slightly, since the backboiler was its own thing, all future unique limbs, this one included, will list the augments on it to give the FM a vague understanding of the possible pricingI (I said I'd be posting it at the end of the month, and I totally would have posted it yesterday had I not been out most of the day, Enjoy!) The Athervox crackled heavily in the corner of the dusty saloon, the establishment’s various patrons glancing over as the sound of movement could be heard behind the music. the jaunty tunes came to an abrupt end, a gruff male voice being cleared in the uneasy quiet of the signal. “Attention citizens of Malifaux city, a storm front is rolling in from the west. Telegraphs from the areas affected warn that it is going to be exceptionally bad, with torrential rain, lightning strikes, and gale force winds. Residents are advised to stay indoors until the storm has passed, and not to go out unless absolutely necessary” There was more than a bit of grumbling, and many of the barstools quickly found themselves abandoned in favor of a relatively uneventful passing before the storm hit in full, it's dark grey clouds evident on the horizon. As the storm rolled closer even more prepared to weather it. shutters were being closed tight against the windows across the city, yet three patrons still remained in the bar, their table filled with cards, liquor, and ash from cigars, hanging in two mouths “I’ll raise three scrip.” An aging man with gray hair as wiry as his frame tossed three chips of painted clay. their reflection was caught on his thick rimmed glasses, perched atop a thin but hooked nose. “Somebody’s confident tonight Carver” his compatriot spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent, twirling a chip between his fingers, his hand of cards laying folded under the opposite palm. He was much younger and in far better spirits, scanning the almost empty building as he moved to take a sip of his gin and tonic “Well Jack, Considering our plans for the evening, we all better be” the third man at the table was grinning widely, thick lips and strong nose curled up into a snide expression. “I’ll match” “Oh shut it Tobias, unless our guest shows up pretty soon, we’re just gonna be sitting here all night” Jack snapped back, taking a rough bite of his sandwich that didn't impede him from continuing. “I’d say playin’ cards , but you two fools seem to be committed to going broke” He played his hand, a full house. “Now pay up chumps” Carver chuckled weakly. “Get that ahead of yourself on the job boy and you’ll get dead real quick-like” Jack scowled when he saw the new cards. Four of a kind. Granted, in a low number, but it was still winning “Be patient man, Granny said good things come to those who wait, and she’s never been wrong” Tobias gingerly tossed his hand onto the table. A royal flush, in the one suit it could’ve been given jack’s cards. The rogue would have accused Tobias of cheating if he hadn’t stacked the deck himself. Before a single chip could be claimed though, a heavily covered figure burst through the door. It was obvious his identity was meant to be concealed, to the point where the only visible skin on his entire frame was a small sliver in the gap between his goggles and balaclava. “Sorry for being late. We spent just a bit more time than I thought on the ritual. Check the horizon by the way, it's already paying off in spades.” “You always seem to have an excuse” Carver stood, looking across the table with palpable annoyance, glancing through the figure more than at him. “So mister Oxford man, what makes you think you’re behind this weather pattern?” ”I studied Arcane theory, not meteorology, but last time I heard about this storm it was headed west, and it was going to hit us in three weeks, if at all. Now it’s knocking on our doorstep after catching a tailwind. That’s most certainly not natural” the mage bragged, kicking back in his freshly claimed chair “So what troy? You talk like you know when it’s gonna rain, so spit it out already man” the mage visibly flinched. Liaisons were supposed to remain otherwise anonymous from their contacts due to the clandestine nature of operations. “By, if not before sundown” the mage briefly pulled down his hood to scratch at his hair, which had been bleached pure white by the energy flowing through him. “How’d you know it was me Toby?” “Even if I hadn’t heard you out in the hall with your buddies before you sat in my chair, I can hear the buzzing your amplifier makes. We're not going to be very stealthy going in unless the plan is to impersonate a swarm of angry bees. How’s that indexer working out for you by the way?” “Just fine Tobias, in fact, I think it may be what helped me get that storm cloud here tonight. I ask for a bit of help trying to be stealthy and there it is” the mage took off both gloves, a metal hand scratching one made of flesh and blood, the motion exposing a glimpse of the Gauss Amplifier's protective glass casing from under the academic's sleeve. “Losing an arm may have even been a good thing” “If you’re worried about noise, there’s no need. A storm this heavy is going to be covering up most of the racket we’ll be making” Jack spoke eloquently, in a way that cast no doubt on just how familiar he was with subject “So, just what mischief are we up to tonight” Troy pulled out a roll of parchment from his coat, clearing the table before laying it bare across the surface. “this is a map of the new banquet hall scheduled to open tonight. In celebration, a bunch of bigwigs from the guild decided to throw some self-aggrandizing function in it. Now, I don’t think I need to mention that they know just how many toes they’re stepping on. They're setting foot in the common man’s territory, they just don't care." The agents around the table all nodded. “Now, we’ve got a nice little route. We’ve bribed one guard, and have a window of opportunity to get inside. And I think you know what we’re supposed to do when we’re there of course” Troy trailed off, glancing towards Tobias without a visible gesture, merely a knowledge of his history. “Send a polite little reminder to these stuffed shirts what happens when they trample over the workers of Malifaux, in the only language those sociopaths understand” Tobias grinned wickedly, glancing to Jack and Carver. Both couldn't help but answer in unison. “Violence” Four figures, masked and cloaked, surged through the ink black streets of the New Construction Zone. The gaslights unable to keep their flame in such high winds, but with its utter dominance of the area’s skyline, the Velvet Hare was impossibly easy to navigate to. Even by way of the back streets, it's arrogant glow show like a beacon to guide the self important home. for those who wondered if they belonged, it bristled with the kind of defenses that would drive away the curious on sight. A parade of opulent carriages were parked and lashed down outside, the horses quartered in the nearby stables. Yet all it took was the presence of one guard, his had cocked curiously to one side, and those figures slipped in without a sign of their presence, still dripping wet from the absolute torrent outside. The interior still had guards, but they were much thinner in number, and quite easily dispatched with a simple strike from jack, leaving a breadcrumb trail of corpses. It was the only evidence that they cared to leave of their entrance route, the rest washing away with the rain. The cadre relaxed once they hit the main narthex of the cathedral to decadence they’d entered. only wait staff and some fashionably late guests meandered about the gilded space, the former looking absolutely exhausted from dealing with people who believed their finery was more valuable than another’s life. Tobias pondered the lack of security, eventually hitching onto a convenient train of thought. There was no need for ugly weapons in this inner sanctum; those were merely tools of hired muscle. Those allowed to pass had no need of protection from one another, only the rabble outside. That train of thought pushed him forward, faster than before. Their breather had finally ended. The time for the dramatic entrance Had arived. it was as beautifully synchronized as troy had imagined it could be. Tobias and Jack both violently kicked open one of the double doors, causing a cacophony that turned the head of most everyone In the room. A warning shot from one of carver’s pistols served to both silence them and grab their attention. In this new atmosphere of shock, Troy’s calm approach to the edge of the railing felt more like Caesar approaching his parapet so he could address the legion. His singular regret in the moment was that he couldn’t slip into the room early and convince the now-silent chamber orchestra to play an imposing march. “Attention you fat, plutocrat pigs, wallowing in all the shiny filth money can buy. We Represent the common man, who has observed patiently your vitriol and disregard for them, and vehemently rejected it. You are currently indulging your hedonism in the wrong place” The trio flanked troy in the natural pause of speech. Even if he hadn’t learned to project his voice through magic, the oxfordian’s singular elective of drama paid off in this moment. “You sit in the cradle of progress, build by the workers, for the workers. Not for the entitled sycophants who feel they work ever so hard, but those who risk their lives to see their visions made. We have come to deliver a message. You are not welcome, and we are here to escort you out” silence filled the air amongst a sea of disgusted and offended faces As a final, dramatic punctuation, the mage electrified the handrails, sending showers of sparks in all directions. The operation was coming together perfectly. They commanded attention, demanded Ire, and now all they needed to do was sow terror. Finally, they were getting to the easy part It took only a few seconds before the screaming started. Stemware was balistically plucked from tables and even the hands of those too awestruck to put down their drinks. debilitating slashes swept out from one particular phantom, who seemed to produce blades from thin air. The instructions were simple, cause as much mayhem and destruction inside the halls as possible. Make them feel unsafe, but do nothing that would bring too much scrutiny, or too long of an investigation. Once everyone was inside, it was far easy to notice the opulence on display in the hall. There was a clear, conscious effort put forth by the proprietors to make the guests feel at home as they would in downtown. Fine statuary complimented expensive champagne, all put on display from private collections, many of their curators now watching in horror as their losses flew higher by the second. Tobias however, noticed something as they rampaged through the overturned furniture and panicking bourgeoisie. Every single electric light in the room was hooked up to a single rock, a soulstone, visibly pulsing with energy. It was clear as a glassy pond, small rifts of electricity cutting tiny fractals through it, only for them to be healed a moment later. In a whole room of expensive tastes, this was supposed to be the centerpiece of the galleria. For a moment, a wonderful fantasy flashed through Tobias’ head. He saw his grandmother, sitting in a big oak rocking chair holding the deed to her old master’s plantation. His younger brothers and sisters were there, growing up free from worry. They were never hungry or bored, and certainly never afraid of angry bigots looking for a scapegoat. That one object had enough value to do all of that and more. it made him sick... no... it made him envious. It was only coincidental that that as he reached the stone, the group was in dire need of a distraction. A ballroom-sized riot can only persist so long before attracting attention. Currently, a small militia was occupying the space on the stairs they’d been atop moments earlier, guns drawn and ready. Without even thinking, Tobias quickly wrenched the stone out of the mechanism, every light shutting off with a disappointing fizzle. In the ensuing commotion, each of them managed to retrace their steps and make a quick exit. a rousing success, but with a complication. At no point could Tobias justify letting go of the stone, even though everything in his brain told him to drop it. As they ran outside, his arm began to go numb. the stone’s native charge began to snake it's way up his bones, the chilling rain doing nothing to distract from the disquieting sensation. There was also no use in turning around and trying to put it back. The fleeing Arcanists could already hear the barking of dogs behind them as the alarms rose over the din of the weather. One disaster after another it seemed. If there was anything close to a consolidation, the storm had gotten vastly worse, and sideways rain wasn’t conducive to following anyone. However, one concern replaced another in due time. The lightning rods above the alleys seemed to arc and scream with energy now, like it was drawn to a source. the storm seemed like it was hunting for some predestined path of least resistance, and only when the arm of Tobias’ coat had completely soaked through did the limbsmith realize he was carrying it. It was impossible to describe how loud it really was, being struck by lightning, it was deafening before utter silence, Tobias thinking he had gone deaf. His arm was gone, vaporized, an instant of agony before total numbness. If troy was chewing him out as he helped him back to his feet, he certainly couldn’t hear it. he found himself fading in and out of consciousness before finally passing out on what seemed like a dry floor When he finally came to, Tobias glanced around the room. The storm was still going on, audible in the basement he was clearly in. The fact that he could hear at all was a welcome enough surprise. In the haze of consciousness, he noticed troy was in the same room. the mage wore naught but his undershirt and pants, studying the stone. he raised his voice the moment he noticed any sort of rousing. “Don’t bother trying to move. You lost too much blood yesterday to even consider it." yesterday? Tobias pondered just how long he'd been out. The view through the small window was black as pitch, that much was obvious even with his vision blurred. he wasn't going to know the time of day unless he was told. “I’d really love to pretend I’m totally at fault here, because I am in some ways. I think my plan for the ritual might have anchored the storm to this stone unintentionally. The more I look at this thing, the more I realize the stone in my arm was probably cut clean when they were shaping this one” Tobias tried to shift in his bed, but the support he would need from a second arm in his weakened state simply wasn't there. “I told you not to move” Troy snipped back angrily. “I told you not to do a lot of things. You probably shouldn’t even be alive right now, but Carver patched you up. Moving around carelessly means you’ll waste even more effort by re-opening those wounds” Tobias felt guilt for the first time in a quite a while They were probably in a Safehouse somewhere, meaning jack and carver were cooped upstairs. The engineer wanted to do so many things, ask how they were doing, explain his motivations, but the mage spoke before he could even settle on where to start. “Why? Why do this Tobias? What the hell made you think taking a stone like this was a good idea you absolute dumbass” Troy got out of the chair, pacing around the room. “I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius or something. What, did you expect to sell this? The only people who would be buying are the people you stole this thing from” He looked like he wanted to speak further, but stopped as all the pieces fell into place, his clenched teeth turned to a soft scowl. “Well you can’t. A stone like this is too valuable to sell for script, maybe even to the guild. The theft is all over the papers though, same line from each newsboy. “Donar’s tooth stolen in violent raid.” Not even the thunders would buy this right now, and there’s no such thing as a good place to store it. you had a nice idea Tobias, if the value of this stone meant more than a big number on paper, you could set anyone up for life. And their kin too." As Troy continued, Tobias started to ponder. “You weren’t the only one to screw up hard. We all did. Jack got stab-happy, and Carver had to clear a path so we could leave… even I ended up frying some guards so we could make a clean exit. We left a disgustingly high body count. The only upside is nobody caught who we were. Right now though? everyone in town can identify this rock on sight” the mage held it out in mock admiration. “We can’t just haul this thing around with us. I think the guard patrols are even starting to check bags now. I'd argue they wouldn't even matter, considering what this thing is liable to do. I don’t think you have any bright ideas with a brain half-full of morphine Toby, but if you do, feel free to interrupt me” Troy was being sarcastic, but Tobias took the kind of chance one can only really take while under the influence of a particularly mind-altering substance. “Then put it in something they can’t open, like a limb” Tobias slurred through a chemical haze. The idea took a moment to float in the air, waiting to coagulate in the minds of both subjects. Their faces shifted seamlessly between inquisitive and confused. “What kind of limb would you even put it in?” Troy countered, comparing the thickness to his own prosthetic. “Custom job. It’d have to be engineered to fit, but it’d never need dust to operate” “And who would make that limb pray tell?” the mage was almost getting sarcastic “Me. Not having a right arm isn’t a problem when you’re left handed” “it is in fact a huge problem when you’re any handed, it comes with this thing called using two hands” Tobias could only smirk. “One” he pointed gently to his own shoulder. “Two” this time he pointed to Troy’s left hand “Three” and again to his right. “Looks like I’ve got three hands is somebody is willing to help me, more If you have bodies to bring along” “Again. Magic degree. Not engineering” Troy scowled “You can learn on the fly, lord knows I did” Tobias jabbed, chuckling under his breath “We’d need a doctor if you’d want this monstrosity on you” The Oxfordian had a point, but Tobias wasn’t going to lose his stride. “Carver. He patched me up well enough for me to survive” “He’s more of a field medic, you’d be doing the patchwork if it were anyone else in your position” the mage was right, but the limbsmith was not to be dissuaded “So? He’s competent, so he can do it if he’s guided along” “And just who would be guiding him along, you? We can’t let anyone else know about this” Troy’s artificial fingers tightened around the stone “Remember how I said I could guide someone else dead drunk?” Tobias began to chuckle, breaking into a full laugh. “If I can’t feel a missing arm right now, I can handle a little surgical pain” There were a few moments of stunned silence. Words began to form, but dropped out silent, half formed with the slack of the mage’s job. After a few moments of non-opposition, Tobias continued eagerly. “All I need for him to do is shove a Mabel screw into me, and I can finish the augment in two days with help. Maybe faster with a few trips to CS and L” “You’re serious” Troy knew he was. Tobias didn’t think that much about his jokes, but needed the confirmation “As I’ll ever be, Got any questions?” even if he’d just flashed that signature grin of his, he wouldn’t have even needed to answer. It took more than a few moments to get a handle on such an utterly insane plan, but the mage had a realization. “What do we do with the storm? I’m not sure if we can dismiss it from the stone. The two metaphorically want to become one. That’s the reason you don’t have an arm, and I don’t think you want to have lightning striking your prosthesis every minute” Tobais pondered for a moment. There was a possibility he didn’t really think about. The energy of the stone had the potential of not just being able to power a limb, but to overpower it. this power source undoubtedly had the ability to break down the core functions of what could be a very sensitive device. Screw an arm, this rock could probably fuel a peacekeeper and have energy to spare… “Spare energy…” Tobias said barely above a whisper, looking over to Troy. “Do you think you could get one buddy who could keep his mouth shut?” “What the hell are you talking about?” the mage seemed bemused at thoughts disconnected from an outsider’s perspective. “We put the storm in the stone” Tobias pointed to the window, then the stone “put the stone in the limb” an action he chose to represent by pantomiming putting something into a box and shutting it, “and put the limb on the asshole who got us into this mess” the limbsmith lackadaisically pointed to himself “Then, we make sure I can dream up a mechanism that lets me burn off excess charge” Troy took more than a little bit of time to try and counter this argument, but came back to the same basic fact. They were in a shitty situation. But, if this all ended up blowing over as much as it could, they might even be praised for the audacity of their little display. Of course, not rewarded outside of the pre-arranged compensation, but their success would be noted. “give me some time to get a glass jar big enough to hold the rock. I don’t feel like turning into you... well, turning into you twice.” The journey back to Tobias’ shop was a long and tense one. To their knowledge there were no living witnesses to him losing the arm, but they wouldn’t take the chance of the question being breached. The sleeve of a fresh shirt was stuffed with rags, the limbsmith holding the false arm defiantly across his chest. The posse made it to their destination with minimal hassle, but Carver made a long, unhappy sigh laying his eyes upon what would soon become his workspace. “This damn place gives me the chills toby, how the hell can you work here? It’s like I walked into the office of some kinda mechanical necromancer” the veteran looked about, tracing his hand along the clean, polished metal of an operating tray “Don’t let the guild catch me saying this, but I may as well be. My job is basically to breathe life into cold, dead metal” Tobias quipped back. “Now, get ready, because I’m going to be giving you a crash course in appendage resurrection” The days that followed centered heavily on shopping. First, Jack headed to the little kingdom for as much opium as he could get his hands on, then a quick stop at an apothecary to procure everything else involved in making morphine. Carver meanwhile rented a room at a nearby Inn, leaving a loop of wire inside meant for Troy and his friend James. They used to finish a quick and dirty incantation, splicing it to the ground wire of the building’s lightning rod while he worked on the surgery. The moment Tobias was sober enough to walk, he made the trip to a nearby general store, and bought two bottles of apology bourbon (with a shiny new temporary limb) to make up for the various insults he’d slung at his attending surgeon. It was downright pleasant to see the first sunny day in quite some time... and the shorted out lighting rod at the Glassholst hotel that let it happen. The next two days were defined by several scrambles to patronize Leveticus, a small bribe to a scrapyard attendant, and eventually, with great relief, the sinking of Donar’s tooth deep into the confines of its final fittings. The room breathed a collective sigh of relaxation when they finally, the expected short didn't occur. The arm was something beyond anything Tobias had ever seen in his life, much less made. Specialized steel covered with non-conductive paint, heavily reinforced elbow fittings to hide the maze of wires that flowed through them, four neat lines of induction coils on the forearm, and a three by three square on the shoulder. “Well Tobias? You want to try your new toy on for size?” Troy looked over to the limbsmith, who seemed like he was both anticipating and dreading that action simultaneously as he undid the clasps to remove his current arm. With a single shot of Dutch courage, Tobias moved to attach the limb. When the kilovolts to the heart he honestly expected weren’t delivered, he finished the installation, flexing his new hand. “So how does it feel, being able to hold onto a storm?” Tobias took a bit of mental effort, and activated one of the limb’s mechanism. arcs of lightning crackled between the fingers of his hand. Troy only smirked. “it took me years to learn to do that, and you just get to play Zeus after a two weeks in man hours. No fair” Tobias' Cheshire grin returned, clenching his fists and turning down the current before swinging his head over to the mages. “Try and hit me with bolt, I want to try something” they looked at each other, before turning back to him with concerned expressions. “I get that you want to try your new toy and all, but with James here, It’s going to be more severe” Troy spoke with a definite hint of worry in his tone. “On three then, so I’m expecting it. One” Tobias flexed his arm, glancing over to the workbench as he prepared, the mages both concentrating on their magic. “Two” There was a grounding rig on that bench they’d been using when making sure the electrical components worked. It was still hooked up. The air began to smell faintly of ozone “Three!” The actions were almost too fast to follow, but those paying attention were awestruck. The spell rushed towards Tobias, but it danced along his hand, almost as if he’d caught it in the air. The current flowed effortlessly from his hand to the coils on his forearm. He then made a sharp jabbing motion towards the grounding rig, the charge releasing itself, and returning to the earth. An ethereal circuit, completed in the space of a single breath. Everyone paused in shocked silence and stared at toby’s fingertips, still gently crackling with lingering energy, including the limbsmith himself. “Do you think you could do that regularly?” James spoke for what felt like the first time in hours, still glancing over the path the spell had taken in disbelief “If I can do it on the first time, I can do it every time” Tobias nodded. The Oxfordians shared a particular look before either responded. “Then there’s somebody who we think you should meet. Her name is Toni, and I think you two would get along very well” “I’ve heard of her” Tobias shot a look of consternation look at Troy, who immediately realized how he could’ve been misconstrued. “Not like that man, you know I’m not that kind of person. You’re both smart, and you’re both great fighters. she like cards as much as you do, and if you don’t mind me saying, you’re both stubborn as mules.” Tobias laughed “Sounds like my kind of girl” “She’d uppercut you through the roof if she knew you ever said that” James blurted out The statement only served to widen his lips. “Sounds exactly like my kind of girl” After two weeks, the search for donar’s tooth had ended. Tobias even humored an absolutely fruitless search. He didn’t even mind the slur spewing guards that did it, they could call him dumb all they wanted, as far as he cared It served them right that they couldn’t even find a rock five feet away from their face. Finally, the call came that Tobias had been dreaming about. He was assigned to scouting mission. While he was supposed to be recording patrol patterns, all he could think about was how much better his family earthside would be living. As the sun set and he waited to be debriefed, he saw clouds in the distance and smirked, glancing down to his right hand. raw lightning danced across it, bent to his will. “Attention, Citizens of Malifaux city, a storm front is rolling in, and it’s going to be exceptionally bad for anyone standing in my way” Unique Prostetic: Cumulonimbus (Prostetic: Clockwork Full Limb) (Enhancements: Combat-Ready Limb (Knuckle Plating) Enlarged Limb Oxfordian Indexer (Gauss Amplifier) Unique Components [2] (Free slot)) Using a uniquely attuned soulstone, this Prosthesis holds an entire lightning storm inside it’s somewhat bulky frame, and uses it to generate every possible advantage such a situation could bring. This limb has the capabilities to turn the person it’s attached to into one of the Gods of yore, throwing bolts of lightning to smite their foes. Such power, obviously, is not something widely available. This prosthetic fully replaces one arm, and is quite often as strong as the former limb that it replaces, and will become even more useful as experience is gained with it This Prosthetic may be advanced like a pursuit Step 1: Galvanic Grip, Jacob’s Ladder Step 2: Magnetic Grip Step 3: Galvanic Mastery Galvanic Grip: The hand of the fated can easily channel electricity, and toss it with great accuracy. the fated is capable of powering nearly device that would require electricity, and putting any conductive substance under current. The fated gain the following attack: Hammer of Storms: (Ca 6 / Resist DF / Rg 2 yards or 10 yards ) The target suffers 2/4/6 damage, which cannot be reduced by armor Overcharge: The fated may cast this spell again, declaring no triggers In addition, any melee attack made with a metal weapon wielded by the fated (including the fist of the Cumulonimbus) gains the following trigger Arc strike: this attack ignores armor Jacob’s Ladder: Cumulonimbus’ attunement to electricity gives it a rarely seen ability in the magical world, the ability to extend the range of a spell through a magical catalyst. Any friendly spell within sufficient range with the electric immuto may choose to target the fated. If it does, that spell may re-draw it’s range from the fated, with an additional added to it’s casting value, which may cause the spell to succeed if it otherwise wouldn’t. Magnetize: The fated has mastered the electromagnetic components of their augmentation, and with it, gain further insight into the capabilities of their augmentation The fated gains the following attack action (0): Magnetism (Ca8 :tome/Resist DF/Rg 10 yards) target construct suffers 2 damage ignoring armor, then the fated pushes six yards towards the target It must also be noted that due to the advanced nature of cumulonimbus, this attack may target a non-living object if it is conductive and sufficiently heavy, and would move the fated towards the target, possibly even in countenance to gravity. The fated also gains the following tactical action: (1): Arc weld (Ca 6 /TN: 12 /range 2 yards ) Target construct heals 2/3/4 damage Galvanic Mastery: The fated has in truly synchronized with their new limb, and they can feel the strength of the storm within them. For all spells or abilities incorporating the electric immuto (including some attacks within fatemaster discretion)targeting the fated, the caster must perform an opposed tenacity vs tenacity duel with the fated. if the fated wins this duel, they may gain control of the spell or ability and choose new targets, including the original caster. The fated gains the following defensive trigger :Under current: After damaging, the attacker suffers 2 wounds, ignoring armor The Casting Value of the fated’s Hammer of Storms ability becomes 7 and gains the following trigger Smells like Ozone: After succeeding, the target is paralyzed The casting value of the fated’s Arc Weld ability becomes 7 and gains the following trigger: strong weld: The healing flip gains The range of the fated’s Magnetism ability increases to 16 yards, and gains the following trigger: Galvanic Warping: After Succeeding, the target gains the following condition until end of turn: Warped Metal +1: Reduce this character’s defense by 1 (once again, I'd like to thank everyone, just in general this time. I'm putting the finishing touches on a new post in Wierdos, and will be making a new inaugural post in a thread soon.)

Sorry for the non-post, but the homebrew for the next augment is basically all but done. with this comes an uncomfortable problem though. the story might be seen as being in slightly... bad taste given recent events. i re-read over it, (I'd finished the story near the beginning of the month) and I don't think this is the best time to release it, since the events might hit a sore spot for some people, and I'd like to be as respectful as possible. Now, I have two options from here, and I'm considering both on the one hand, I may drop in the augment on it's own, and just edit in the story later on the other, I might just drop a thread I've been pondering for quite a while. Either way, I'd like to thank people for putting up with me for all this time. we'll be back to regularly scheduled programming soon.

i'm glad to hear that Happy! it's always awesome to know whenever my content gets used in games, however much tweaking is needed for it to work out (i'm one guy working on homebrew, I'm more than aware I'm not perfect )

So Into the steam is out in full now, and while I await its arrival at my LGS like a corgi bouncing in front of its food dish, I had a few ideas I wanted to write up. What ended up deciding my new post’s arrival in this thread was in fact the realization that I haven’t actually read ItS yet, and I don’t want to post anything redundant, along with the realization that I might actually be making some big overhaul post in Giant Robot Fists for the sake of bringing it more into balance. In a development that will probably surprise absolutely nobody, I’m half considering making a thread about crafting zombie limbs (and the possibility of attaching them to things that aren’t zombies if such a scandalous development could even be believed!) but said thing won’t end up happening if I’m making a carbon copy of my previous thread with the Undead trait replacing Constructs. Strange things are being toyed with. Crafting systems may be involved. But before any of that happens, I actually do have some love for this thread! I came up with a few concepts and a friend helped me decide on which to drop on this thread. Without any further Ado, I present; The Malifaux Hunter’s Society At some point in the night, Everybody has felt that foreboding sensation, a chill up your spine, an urge to check your surroundings. You’ve felt eyes on your back. A foreboding sensation of being watched by something unknown lurking within the shadows cast betwixt the oil laps, if you’re lucky enough to be near a single one There are parts of Malifaux where the dawn brings no comfort, in these places, one can find minor respite away from the prying eyes of the guild, but far gone is any modicum of safety that even the chance of a guard patrol might bring, without precautions taken, entry into the dark of the quarantine zone or wilderness is tantamount to suicide In these forsaken places, you’re never watched by the guild, but there is always something to take its place. It could be something close to harmless, a small bug skittering noisily about, or a rat poking it’s head out from between the ribs of the sewer grate. That’s if you’re lucky. More often than not it’s something infinitely worse. One can still feel lucky if it’s another human watching them, no matter what their intentions are. Of course there are true monsters amongst the races of man, Rapists and murderers who prey upon those happen to find themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time, but even to encounter one of them is getting off easy There’s always the chance that you could meet something that finds its home in the shadows, an amalgamation of once living flesh, or unliving steel, or simply something that shouldn’t be allowed to live in the first place. In that case, if you aren’t prepared, only lightning wits or grace of circumstance will give you the mere chance of survival Sometimes, however, when a man finds himself facing down some damned necromancy, so close that the disgusting scent of rot is apparent on it’s useless breath, a loud crack rings out and the beast reels back, snarling and looking for whatever dared to attack it. And just as it’s found the offending foe, a hole the size of a lumberjack’s arm is blown straight through its skull, or whatever comes closest as a favorable target. It doesn’t always fall straight against the cobblestone streets, but it never takes long afterwards, leaving a pool of viscera beneath it, or a trail if it’s got enough luck left to limp away in terror In it’s wake, a figure clad in black appears, it’s face obscured, and a single, forceful gesture in the right direction is often more than enough to get the formerly trapped party to run away in absolute terror. But for a rare few, they approach the figure, either to thank their savior or perhaps, ask why the decision was made to keep them alive After that, the quick pull of a weapon is often more than enough to dissuade most stragglers, but for the truly unique, they were far outside of safety for a more definite reason. They are those that do not ask why they killed the monster, with no fear of the apparent act of hostility. They know why the beast was slain. They merely ask how. They are promptly escorted deeper into the quarantine zone than they ever planned to be, wondering where they might find themselves, until they see something truly out of the ordinary in a land of confusing sights It seems to be a perfectly maintained structure, a mansion transformed into a hunting lodge with an Aethervox tower mounted onto the roof, its parapets manned by more figures in the same dress as the one bringing them up to the front gates of the building. Instead of the disturbing silence of the outside, it is filled with raucous laughter, and the sounds of feasting and carousing The main halls are filled with grotesque trophies of hunts past hung up across the walls, plaques proudly proclaiming the name of the mighty hunter who felled the beast. An automata passes by, engravings in its chest giving the history of its core, extracted from a rampaging peacekeeper, and tamed to serve. Nobody is more than a yard from their weapons, but they are kept strictly at rest. A man robed in the skin of a mauler stands and grins at the new arrival, his metallic arm producing an intimidating clatter as he lifts himself up. His visage is intimidating, gray, wiry hair flowing from his head and chin like a portrait of an old pagan God. His introduction is jovial, but is gaze is piercing and intense. He is short and to the point. if those brought to the halls wish to leave, they will be escorted back to a safe haven in the slums after they recover. But, if their desire to slay the monsters that lurk in the shadows is as strong as the one who brought them, they will be welcomed with open arms, and trained in the art of bringing death to beasts that by no means should be alive They are all madmen, that much is clear, hunting bigger game than they ever could on earth, but then again, it could be argued anyone who would come to malifaux is just the slightest bit mad. The Malifaux Hunter’s Society Many big game hunters thirst for danger, and over time it has become infinitely clear that there is no more dangerous a place than Malifaux, especially the wilds. For many, this is more than enough reason to eke out an existence wherever they have some modicum of safety, lest they be thrust out where even the most gossamer illusion of safety is completely gone. But with those contented with staring down a charging bull elephant with only lightning reflexes and their trusty rifle drawing the line between them and demise, never could a more beautiful place exist. Malifaux is especially unique for its unparalleled range of strange and alien quarry, with the natural denizens of the walls outside only being the tip of the proverbial iceberg Hunting large game is more often than not a pursuit of those both affluent and slightly disturbed, the exact distribution of traits needed to get a man onto a train to malifaux with no strings attatched, and a well-hidden sporting gun stashed somewhere deep inside a false bottomed suitcase. Many of the first in these pursuits wound up as either frontiersmen or bounty hunters, career paths that took them to places more often than not gave them ample opportunity to find quarry, and often distinguished by the peculiarity of their full stocks However, after some time, this arrangement changed. Nobody can pinpoint exactly when, but sometime between the re-opening of the breach and the present day, a man whose name has been lost to obscurity, only self-identifying as “the Huntsmaster” came to Malifaux with enough affluence to have a high-caliber elephant rifle shipped alongside him, and insufficient sanity to keep him from wandering into the quarantine zone when he’d heard reports of a monster stalking into the slums during times when the moons were just right to obscure its passage. When the cooling corpse of a necromantic abomination appeared in the main square at dawn, the desperate bounty placed on it’s head by a large number of terrified inhabitants was collected by a man who reportedly still had all of his limbs intact. None could tell where the elusive figure lived; only really knowing that when a high enough bounty was placed on the head of any one thing (with the sole exception of live humans, criminal or non), it would be neatly disposed of and presented to the one offering the bounty, palm open in utter glee for the reward. After some time, other figures would come to collect the bounties, wearing long coats heavily resembling those worn by the guild, but made of easily washed leather. After a while however, bounty targets were delivered with a single coffin nail stuck in them, attaching a note with details as to where the bounty would be dropped for collection The turning-point was thought to come from one of two major incidents, both related to the guild, both of which managed to make headlines. The first was a cart of dead gremlins piled so high, it repeatedly exhausted the till of a guild commissary. After a few visits to collect the remaining sum, the clerks became belligerent, one of which responded by pulling a collier. The collecting hunter took unkindly to this and responded by turning a large portion of the clerk into, according to the official report, “A fine, red mist” The second would be the loss of a peacekeeper which went berserk and wandered off during a mission after being recharged at the execution of a violently insane spree-killer. The high bounty on the constructs head was thought to be nearly uncollectable, used as a tool to alert the guild of its location. However when the mangled form of the peacekeeper was left at the foot of a patrol station with an avaricious hunter and a large hole marking where it’s logic engine was thought to be extirpated. The attempted arrest and small skirmishes are thought to be what drove the society more underground, the belligerence between the two groups eventually extinguished when a favorable sum of money was delivered by a patrol by the begrudging orders of clerical staff. As much as nobody in the guild’s administration will admit, the hunters provide an important service to many, acting as exterminators where sending in a guard patrol could cause or aggravate a problem. Outside of a few bizarre eccentricities in their actions (such as the capture and subsequent release of several species into the sewers of malifaux, along with their operation of a pirate Aethervox channel) they have had a net benefit for the safety of many. Considering the proximity to irony the preceding has shown only how much worse it was before their operations began. Joining the Society The society is always on the metaphorical hunt for new recruits, because while casualties are few and far between, each is felt heavily within the society, even the injury of a single member can cut down on the efficiency of Sorties while they recover. To overcome this problem, the society seeks those who would do something just as insane as them, going into the quarantine zone. Often, a patrolling hunter will intercept an individual (or perhaps group) that’s been cornered by one of the zone’s more dangerous denizens. Efforts will be made to save them, and if successful, the hunter is to appear before the individual. Attempts will be made to drive them out, but if they resist (or were seen actively attempting to slay the creature beforehand) they are brought to the fortified home of the society, where they are given the offer to join and prove their own glory for the world to see. Only two caveats are given when an applicant joins. The Society keeps a modest cut of all bounties earned using it’s training and gear And if a recruit tries to sell the society out, they’ll be on the society’s own bounty board. Advanced Pursuit: Society Hunter Requirements -The fated must encounter the society and join willingly -The fated must be proficient with a ranged weapon -The fated must spend one night in the sewers under the society hall Steps 1 Fast Takedown 2 Songbook 3 Dedicated hunter 4 Trophy 5 Back to the Den Fast Takedown Unknown to the fated, that first night is supervised by more senior members of the society, who know to drive certain nasty creatures towards where they are in order to instill a healthy sense of paranoia into them. Further training afterwards only heightens the innate desire to raise a weapon quickly when danger is sighted. The first attack taken after being ambushed by anything larger than the fated towards that target gain to the attack and damage flip Songbook The fated is given a specialized small Aethervox receiver and a small book of “popular songs to look out for” that is actually a cipher decoder for messages sent via the Society’s pirate channel. Agents out in the field can be given short updates pertaining to their mission, either by nonsensical “advertisements” placed between songs, or by the song choice itself. In addition, the fated is provided fitted gear by the society, in the form of a standardized coat, goggles, muffler, along with a hat of the fated’s choice. This equipment is replaced free of charge if needed after a sufficient bounty is earned. In addition, the fated is granted access to the society’s gunsmith, limbfitter, surgeon, and apothecary, all society members who will sell to the fated at a very low markup. Dedicated hunter The fated has developed a taste in the game they hunt, and know how to hunt it far better than anyone should. Choose a characteristic (such as Construct) or Subtype (such as Beast). When the fated find a target matching that matches what was chosen, they may push 2 yards after every movement made to get closer to the target, and get +1 to all duel totals made in direct attempts to kill their target. Trophy The fated has decided to add to the vast trophy collection at the society. Before a notable trophy is claimed, or if the previous trophy has been abandoned, the fated may choose to designate a target as his Trophy Kill. This target must match the characteristic or subtype chosen with Dedicated Hunter. When a fated wounds a Trophy Kill target during the dramatic time, they may choose a defensive ability that target has (such as a defense trigger, armor, or hard to wound) and that ability does not apply until the end of the round. After the fated has mounted the trophy at the society, attacks made by the fated against creatures of their Dedicated Hunter choice can ignore up to one defensive ability Back to the den The fated’s obsession with the hunt has perhaps become offputting to some, but that is quickly rectified when the hunt begins. The fated has become familiar with their Dedicated Hunter choice that they begin to notice very specific patterns in their physiology or make that can be easily exploited. When the fated spends the Focused condition on an attack against their chosen characteristic or subtype, that attack deals extra damage equal to the number of focus spent. The fated can also study the corpse of a kill, if they do, they can discern things such as it’s age, state of health/repair, and even where it may have come from, or it’s maker if artificial, and gains on any attempts to track down the creature’s origin

This is an awesome hook! and I have to admit, the aftermath of finding this train would probably be as awesome for FMs as getting there

[pneumatics intensifies] I'm getting this from Ad1's post in my dumb little thread, (and he should feel free to correct me on this mostly beacause I don't have my fated almanac in front of me right now) but you could either use pneumatics of the relevant combat skill (Pugilism/MA), but you would need to keep them within one point of each other, or else you would be using the lower of the two. It's a tad on the expensive side in all regards, but I suppose that comes at the ability to upgrade your fists. otherwise, I'd actually give it a yes as far as the paired weapon trait goes from a certain perspective, you can have a lot more force, and with fist apparently now being a weapon, I would say it could easily be excused, for example, fluff wise, as a new sense of Ambidexterity as far as through the steam goes, I unfortunately don't own it...yet. I want a hard copy to refference

Through the steam is out, and I’m psyched beyond anything else for it to arrive at my Favorite local game store. Everything I’ve heard about it makes me want it more. I have no immediate idea how the unique items work, but for now, I’m going to put a bit of a spin on how I think it would work, since to a degree, This fits hand in hand with the design of the item. So please, if it seems like I’m kind of going slantwise into how these things actually work (unique items, the augmented class, ect) , I apologize in advance. Oh, and new update in the Key Otherwise, back to the Homebrewing! So, to tell the truth, this is one of my formative ideas when it comes to prosthetics, as evidenced by me mentioning it before I really even started making the homebrews. I had the idea that in the more advanced stages, a sufficiently advanced prosthetic would essentially be a construct, grafted onto the fated, possibly blurring the line between man and machine. You could end up a human swiss army knife, with more functionality by yourself than a man with a pack full of tools and weapons, or you could end up a raging beast of flesh and metal. It’s hard to tell for many what will happen when you merge your flesh with a steam powered construct. But for one man… I used to be a pit fighter. I used to be a damn good pit fighter too, too many fights to remember. I survived enough fights for my name to be well known. I won enough for my last name not to matter. I used to hear it all the time. “Caine? Like the aristocrats? Like the engineer that went missing?” Like I care. All they know me as now is “Carter Caine, The Speeding Train” I want it that way. They don’t ask, I don’t answer. I used to be some 16:1 in a dirty arena in the slums. Then, I was fighting in clubs that smelled like opium and odds that made it look like a death sentence for my opponents. Then, I hit the big time. The New construction zone. I was up against names like Bishop. Before my first match though, I was stopped In the street by a union head. He knew I could fight, and he wanted that kind of muscle behind his crew. What was in it for me was more money than I’d seen in one place for most of my life, More than enough to get me into the sewers. We had to transport a crate. I Wasn’t supposed to know what was in it. other people sure as hell did though, it was like half of malifaux was down in that sewer trying to get to it. I was given some Iron gloves, The guy called em’ Cestii. I call them miracles. I pushed through the sewers as the spearhead, I saw zombies, Guild, things that damn well shouldn’t be. I introduced them to my right hook, and only half of them were alive to meet my left cross. But then, I met my match. We walked into a cistern, and It was sunny. The ceiling had some sort of opening. Anything could be in there, and what was… I was face to face with one of those big Nephilim. The kind that look like Lucifer himself. It was a hell of a fight. I took a wing, it took my arm. I cracked it’s skull, it took the other. So, running on adrenaline, I did all that I could, and we went head to head, and it fell into the whirlpool before it took my head with it, though my face got a nasty scar thanks to that toxic blood. We had a field medic, and he did just enough to keep me stumbling up to the other end of the deal. They didn’t have another point like me, but they didn’t fight anything that needed one. God knows where we emerged. It looked like a mine crossed with a construction yard. There were Unionists and Wizards running around like mice in a cage, and Victor Ramos, in all of his tawdry glory, sitting at the entrance to the place with some metal covered goons. Blood loss Isn’t kind to your brain. Neither is a concussion, and I had a mean case of both. All I recall was calling him a bastard, though I think I said basset hound, and spitting on his boots before passing out on them. I woke up in a hospital bed, and mister grey and pointy was holding what looked like a glass chunk the size of a kitchen knife, some reddish-yellow light flickering around in the center. “Ah, You’re awake” he said in the way you only hear when you’ve come an hour behind schedule. “I was informed by mister Gallo of your… exploits.” “So you know why I don’t have arms then…” I was spitting words out, my head still felt like it was on a carrousel “I also know that you’re the sole reason I received my shipment on time… if at all” Ramos flicked that shard about like he was practicing his knife tricks. “It cost you dearly… but you… you were chosen to be in the union for your strength, but your drive… it may be the greatest asset we could have acquired… one we could improve with the right… resources” He brought the shard down on the table. Hard. enough to embed itself in it, and while it stayed upright, smoke started to rise up from under it. no wonder he couldn’t seem to hold on to it for half a second. “Mister Caine, If you’re willing to come under a union salary, I’d see it fit to expend the resources to help you join as a perfectly functional member” I wanted to say no then. I wanted to punch him out, but no arms and no stable legs to speak of means I couldn’t even walk out on the snake. “I’m listening.” He threw his head back and laughed. “Very well. In a moment, a nurse will come in and give you a sedative. And while you’re out, your wounds are plenty raw enough to be operated on. You’ll be given a heavily functional set of limbs along with a special addition. You brought me so many soulstones mister Caine, I can afford to give one up in the name of science, No matter how unique” The next thing I remember, I was in yet another bed, but something was… off. I could feel a weight on my back, and I could feel my arms again, though they felt much bigger. Ramos was back, sipping some fizzy wine or another, and greeted me with some enthusiasm “Ah, mister Crane, so glad to see you awake once more. Your prostetics are top of the line. They can be easily replaced by a skilled technician with some more moderate fare… but you may never want to when you try it out” Once my recovery period started… he was right. My new limbs were huge, but they moved like lightning. Why my old hands could crack, these could splinter. But what was on my back made it something else, and Ramos was right. I didn’t want my new toys off any time soon. My arms were lightning, but my back was fire. It was a part of me, plain and simple. It did what I thought I could never do with these arms, what I thought a machine couldn’t do. It took my anger, and turned it into force. They say that’s the property of a soulstone, it becomes a part of you, and it can make you a part of something else. At first I thought it was just some coal burning behind my back to give me fuel, but I found so much more. It was like a whole, complex system of muscles, and I was a baby again, learning how to use them. And oh boy did I. I can break stone. I can rend steel. As Flesh and bone? I barely notice anymore. But it’s so much more than that. I can come alive in flame, spit steam like some iron dragon… no, in so many ways, I’m a speeding train myself I used to be a pit fighter Now I’m so much more Unique Prostetic: The Living Engine (Special) This is less of a prosthetic and more of a work of art, akin to a miniaturized version of a Rail Golem. Using a unique soulstone attuned with the individual, this boiler can channel fire, both figurative and literal, into function, empowering any limbs it’s attached to. It’s complexity makes it too complex to gain from a select few, and it’s high cost of resources makes it unlikely to be pair for upfront, usually a complex favor by way of a mechanical visionary like Ramos, or Mei Feng, or perhaps some other Savant, lurking in the shadows This prosthetic is technically a highly advanced backboiler, allowing it to activate limbs with the [Powered] Characteristic. Unlike the Backboiler however, this prosthetic only serves to be more powerful as more experience is gained with it. This prosthetic may be advanced like a pursuit Step 1: The Fire Stone, Steam-Powered Step 2: A Heart like Fire, Steamworks Step 3: One with the stone, Locomotion Step 4: Boiling Blood, True Machine The Fire Stone: A unique enchantment to a mundane soulstone, or a truly special stone must be used in this boiler to truly get it going, leading to a net benefit for the wearer. The fated does not resolve the burning condition at the end of turn, and Cannot be damaged by the Burning condition. Over a long periods of time, the pressure may become uncomfortable for the fated as they actively perceive the engine to be a part of their body. As such, the fated receives for each burning above +2 kept for over two hours, and burning +1 hourly up to that amount if the boiler is kept fueled Steam Powered: The Living Engine can be attached to any number of different prostetics, though by most designs, it’s integrated into the arms by default, to take pressure off the rib cage. Any attached with an Ability reliant on hydraulics may be refilled for a 1 action, and by reducing the Burning condition by 1. A Heart Like Fire: The fated has trained well, and the wall between anger and flame is going up in smoke. The fated gains the following Defensive trigger: :rams : Fiery Determination: Increase the fated’s Burning Condition by +1 In adition, the fated may Carry up to Burning +3 without incurring penalties Steamworks: The fated is learning how to control all the small bits and pieces of their new mechanical extentions, and a few tricks come to the forefront: The fated may reduce their burning condition by 2 to use the following tactical action (1) Vent Steam (Ca 5/TN 10 ) the fated is surrounded by a cloud of steam extending for 4 yards, or Six yards if indoors Ca and Sh actions targeting allies in this cloud gain One With the Stone: The fated’s soul has become intimately bonded with the stone. Because of this, their emotions fuel the stone more strongly. At the beginning of every turn during the dramatic time, the fated gains the following condition: Burning+1. In addition, the fated may carry up to burning +4 without incurring penalties Locomotion: The fated has been able to truly connect with their equipment and find not only power, but drive as well. The fated gains the following action (0) Locomotion (Ca5/TN 11 ) Reduce the Burning condition by 1, The fated may make a Walk or a (1) Attack Action with a limb attached to The Living Engine Express line: After that action resolves, you may cast Locomotion again Boiling Blood: The fated is becoming more and more affected by the stone with every passing day, but as their temperament shrinks, their power only serves to grow. The fated’s Ca becomes 7 tome when using abilities granted by the Living Engine. The fated may also reduce the burning condition by 1 for an action to gain an additional suit of the fated’s choice. Additionally, the fated gains the following abilities and triggers: (1)Scalding Breath (Ca7 :tome/Resist DF/Rg 3 yards) Reduce the burning condition by 1. Target suffers 2/2 /4 damage It Burns! Opponents damaged by scalding breath gain the Burning +1 Condition (0) Open Vents: (Ca7 /TN 8) Remove the burning condition. everything but the fated within 4 yards take damage equal to half the amount of the burning condition removed this way Linger In the Air: You may cast the Vent Steam ability without reducing the burning condition You gain the following Trigger on the Vent Steam ability: Superhot: All enemies within cloud gain the following condition: Burning +1 True Machine: The fated has gained abilities from the living engine that would horrify many. The fated gains the following trigger to all MI attacks made by attached limbs: Onslaught: After Damaging, you may make this attack again, declaring no triggers (So, this one was a bit more involved, and is my first prosthesis of it’s kind. So; questions, comments, whatever you’d want, feel free to say it. but otherwise,)

Deep within the bowels of Malifaux city, there lie a great many secrets to be kept and claimed. Incomprehensible edicts spread oily tendrils of control by the grasping hands of faceless men… pray good citizen, that the hand grasps not the knife that seeks your back What’s up, it’s that weird guy that posts homebrew because apparently writing rules text is fun to him. Tonight on “oh god sunspotter’s made another thread, what’s this one about?” I wanted to address a concept that’s always struck me as interesting, the idea of the Secret Societies of malifaux, more specifically, the weird goings on just out of sight in places that people really shouldn’t be. Their purpose? Who knows most of the time, but in this thread, I'll be defining a few The Inaugural goings on in the shadows today will be; The Church of Moons A cold wasteland of hostile architecture, far beyond the gaze of the ram lies the realm where peace dies screaming in agony. No God gazes upon this place where Daemons roost as crows, madness creeping in like the halting chill of winter’s breath. No man lives here. There is life, but no man lives here. Somewhere though, off in the distance, across a plaza bereft of any movement… ochre light spills onto the damp cobblestones from an open door, the faint smell of Sage-grass and Cardamom carried on the dying breeze. Could it be a mirage? It only becomes clearer as one draws close, the smell becoming heavier and heavier, before the building’s frontage is even reached all but clergymen would be holding their breaths, a thin haze of pallid blue smoke contrasting the irreverent glow of torchlight All but a yard from the threshold, and the doors are flung open, a blast of cloying haze blowing out into the night air. Greeting the world, two crimson robed figures glide with barely a single sound to accompany them, only cloth scraping along rock and mortar. The inside is laid bare, spread for all to see. It is the church of madmen, past the Narthex of dreary sandstone fonts lay benches curved inward like the ribs of some fell beast. Within them lay the kin of the doormen, fraternizing in the clouds flowing forth from countless censers, Sharpening blades of great size to a mirror finish. Further down the aisle the realization comes crashing in, beneath the earthy tones of Cinnamon Bark and Juniper branch lay the unmistakable twinge of copper and viscera. The altar holds behind it a great pool, as carnage-red as the resident’s robes. The windows catch the moon and cast their glow feverishly upon the altar where neatly folded cloth lays. It is white, pristine as fallen snow. The chatter ceases, seats shift from rapt attention. From where it was impossible to tell, but a chant began. It was alien, in a tongue unknown to mortal ears, but so clear was the compulsion, the moon gazed down as eyes, witnessing the ritual. First made bare as a newborn, then swaddled in cloth, the braziers roared thanks in eldritch voices as the initiate waded impossibly deep into the pool, joined by a thing that simply rose from its depths, vision blurring as the smoke grew so thick it seemed like the whole city was ablaze in holy fire! A soaking hand drew the hood and veil, pressing down like the weight of a boulder with such sudden ferocity, there was no chance to take a good breath before plunging in face first, there was no breath to hold, a sharp inhalation of terror bringing in only the fluid Yet death never came. Within the pool, a mirror lay before a shining gem, their presence only known as eyes snapped open in panic. Without error, the moons show bright as in the night sky itself Rising up, robes dripping, the pool was as clear as water. The cloth however, had been dyed as red as the blood of fresh-killed game. Without the mute of the pool, the chant could be heard, clearer than ever Come unto them, oh blessed moons, with holy light, reveal their path, with sacred haze, and pious blood O come, O come, Be born again, O come Come and be baptized The Church of Moons Centered In what seems to be a cathedral in the quarantine zone, the church of moons preaches nightly to a congregation the holiness of the blood of man. It is rare to see someone go to more than one service before undergoing the church’s ritual of baptism emerging changed, knowing of unwritten scripture and unspoken gospel, and having reverence for the moons, which makes the blood boil The church protects a wide area around the church known as Mondblick to its residents, many of the monsters of the night seeming to avoid its borders. These borders are defined only by chains of iron hanging cencers, making a false wall of smoke. Some say the scent deters the beasts, but for those that have entered, it’s the blades of the parish that assure they pose no threat. Come dawn, anything foolish enough to even approach the borders of Mondblick is hauled dead or dying into the plaza, and tossed unceremoniously unto a raging pyre that smells of the church’s signature incense, rather than the burning charnel one would expect. It is said that just before the sun rises, a drop of sanctified blood is placed at the center of the plaza to start each bonfire. Until noon comes and the sun begins to show its descent, feverish prayers are chanted that the moons may come again and bring deliverance Life in mondblick is actually quite preferential for many residents versus living in the slums, the only difference being on a monthly rotation, each adult member of one of the 30 small “wards” of the area tithe a chalice full of blood to the church, which is used to fill the pools and fonts of the cathedral. Children are instead allowed to give a ceremonial three drops of blood as tithe, their blood considered second only to that of the high clergy in its holiness, and is kept secreted away in the vaults for when it is truly needed. The Wards While there are 30 wards, there are 4 that are of vital importance to the chuch The First ward is that of the chuch itself, this is where most all clergy members that live in mondblick reside, and where all outside clergy members are counted as living when it comes their turn to tithe. The Ninth ward was founded around a set of furnaces, these are where the sacred weapons wielded by church members are made by an insular group of clergy and non, headed by the Vicar-In-Arms The Fifteenth ward is where the ashes of slain beasts are taken, and mixed with the ward’s fountain, which is fed into the gardens where the incense plants are grown. This concoction causes the plants to grow at truly impossible speeds, replenishing fully within the hour of a proper watering, even after nearly being stripped bare The Twenty-second is one of the most crucial wards to mondblick’s existence and further expansion, a wide entrance to the malifaux sewers heavily guarded. This relatively well patrolled path is considered part of the district itself, only a few points of divergence making the path under the river relatively secure. The majority is a straight shot, thanks to a corrugated metal bridge between the sluice gates below either bank. The path’s other mouth lets out into the little kingdom, the merchants there infinitely more willing to trade in such large quantity without question than most would be, the haul then brought back by cart to the second district where it’s sold in the markets of the plaza. As for what is traded of value, the church’s incense is said to have a narcotic quality when wetted with blood and smoked, for what reason the church cares not, only that their purifying influence may spread, and one day lead a convert to them, even if inadvertently. Joining the Church The ritual only occurs at night, and commonly only one convert is allowed to join per night. Rare exceptions may be made however, as the number of robes on the altar occasionally increase, the compatriots of willing converts offered entry apropos their appearance. It is often thought unwise to willingly allow a robe to go unworn Once a member, The church has Five commandments for it’s clergy, each with it’s own important caveat 1: the clergy must tithe one pint of holy blood when the bell tolls over the first district This may not always be possible due to travel, but if it is planned, the clergy member will be given special gold-plated bottles to keep their tithes stored until they can be properly given along with their first fresh donation 2: the clergy must attend mass once every cycle of each moon Once again, this may be impossible due to travel, at which point pucks of specially blessed ritual incense will be supplied to the member. Once they return, it is often suggested they attend mass nightly until the next end of cycle. Clergy ranking high enough to hold mass themselves are technically exempt from this rule as long as they perform all the proper rituals. 3: the clergy is forbidden from meeting monstrous flesh with unsanctified steel, unless under great duress This commandment doesn’t explicitly forbid the use of firearms, but highly discourages them implicitly, as holy bullets are difficult, time consuming, and overall painful to make, not to mention needing to be made in addition to the holy weapon they’re fired from. The Vicar-at-Arms will ask a Tablespoon of blood be given for each bullet requested, suggested to be that of the Clergy making the request, though the blood of someone truly close to the requester may work just as well. The exemption to the rule is also not as broad as it would seem, as assuming the clergy’s other holy weapons are disarmed or broken, a holy dagger is supplied to each church member, which must be used until breaking. 4: the clergy shall uphold the holiness of the blood of man This one is somewhat self-explanatory, clergy members must do all that they can to prevent living humans from succumbing to things like poison or plague, kill those spreading it intentionally, and make an example of the slaying of Nephilim and any other creature that feeds on humans or their blood. 5: The clergy shall bleed forevermore This one isn’t optional. A small wound can always be found somewhere on the body of a clergy member. It’s easily kept bandaged to prevent the blood from rubbing onto clothing, but it won’t leave, a sign of the completion of baptism into the church Advanced Pursuit: Church of Moons Clergy Requirements -The Clergyman must have a Heavy Melee skill of 2 or higher -The Clergyman cannot have a negative might -The Clergyman must always carry a soulstone of lade rating 2 or higher -The Clergyman must be baptized into the church Steps 1 The Sanguine Followers 2 Blades of the Parish 3 Dedicated Evangel 4 The Hammer of Faith 5 The Lunar Choir The Sanguine Followers: Upon the successful completion of baptism, the fated may choose to speak in tongues. When speaking like this, they can only be understood by other clergy. The fated is now bound by the five commandments of the Church of Moons, and must follow them to the best of their ability. Upon the completion of the baptism, the fated is cured of all diseases and addictions, and they cannot form again. In addition, the fated may petition the Vicar at arms to reforge any custom weapons or ammunition in reference to church doctrine, with prices listed below. Blades of the Parish: The fated has grown enough In faith that they are trusted to wield a Censer Blade (profile below). These are complex blades with an internal cavity and special flutes that when active, leave a trail of the purifying smoke used heavily by the church of moons. Past the original one gifted, the fated must petition the vicar at arms for subsequent replacements, which will lead to questions unless some fragment of the broken blade is presented Dedicated Evangel: Upon proving themselves to the church through some act, the fated has gained the trust of the clergy, to the point where they have been elevated to the high clergy themselves. The fated may hold mass in accordance with the second commandment, and due to the veneration of their blood, pricing of petitions to the vicar at arms are halved if it is their blood supplied. Upon elevation, the fated also learns the true strength of the blood of man. if allowed to take a direct transfusion from another human, the fated and transfusee rapidly heal, at the rate one wound per minute. During this period, the tranfusee can understand tongues. In addition, if the fated is killed in action, the soulstone may be returned to the cathedral, and if the moons are willing, the fated may be born anew, though they may have to live with… certain changes. The Hammer of Faith So proven has the fated become to the church that they are trusted with one of the most holy weapons of church, A Hammer of Litanies (profile below) Hammers of Litanies are specially attuned to sacred blood, and will burn those of insufficiently holy blood. The blood of allies may be purified through transfusion, though they will not be able to wield the hammer properly without getting burned, simply retrieve and carry the weapon. Hammers of litanies may also act as shrines for any Church of Moons Ritual. The Lunar Choir The fated’s life and has become Inexorably Intertwined with the life of the church, and both sides are better for it. The fated gains immunity to the poison condition, and if that immunity is removed, the fated may take a wound at any time to purge the condition. The fated may also join one of the three Choirs of the church: The Choir of Arms: The cost of the fated’s petitions is again reduced by half, and if the Vicar-at-arms retires, the fated may be given the full secrets of forging holy weapons The Choir of Blades: Bladed blessed weapons wielded by the fated gain to attacks against non-humans, and the fated heals 1 wound every time a moderate or severe critical is dealt to an opponent The Choir of Hammers Blunt blessed weapons wield by the fated gain to attacks against non-humans, in addition, the whenever the fated is wounded during the dramatic time, they may push all enemies 3 yards away. Prices Holy Reforging (Small weapon) - ½ pint of blood Holy Reforging (Large weapon)- 1 pint of blood Holy Reforging (Ranged weapon) 1 ½ pints of blood Holy Arrows- 1 pint for 1 billet (50 arrowheads) Holy Bullets- 1 tablespoon for 1 bullet Censer Blade- 3 pints of blood Hammer of Litanies- 1 gallon of blood Weapons Cencer Blade A gently curved blade with fluted openings dotted along the back, leading back to an ornate brass box just in front of the handle. Even deactivated, this blade still stinks of incense Weapon Type: Heavy Melee (Slashing) Rg: 3 / Res: Df / the target suffers 3/4/7 damage, this weapon gains :+ fate to the damage flip. If filled (1 cone lasts one hour), all undead, spirits, gremlins, and Nephilim within 2 yards must take a TN 11 resilience test whenever they take an action or the action fails. The fated and everything within 2 has soft cover Hammer of Litanies A heavy hammer head wrapped in vellum scrawled with bright red script, indiscernible to most, but when struck, they are screamed out by the hammer itself Weapon type: Heavy Melee (Smashing) Special: The fated must have might 3 or greater to wield this weapon Rg: 3 / Res: Df/ the target suffers 4/5/6 damage, and is slowed. Litany of Awe: The target is paralyzed instead of slowed Litany of Pain: The target suffers a moderate critical effect instead of becoming slowed Litany of Fates: The target discards a card instead of being slowed, and you may draw a card Litany of Force: The target is pushed back 5 yards instead of being slowed. If they are stopped before the full distance, they are still slowed

I’m going to cut myself off for this post. First, I wanted to say holy crap. Second thread to 1k views, making it the second most viewed thread on the forum. To whoever is reading this thread, and especially to any who may be including my content in your game (or even considering it) thank you from the bottom of my heart. You guys are the single biggest reason this stuff isn’t rotting away in a notebook somewhere with limited reach. You guys are awesome, seriously. Now… In the words of doctor weird, GENTELMEN, BEHOLD, I HAVE CREATED… THIS THING! So, I really enjoyed doing the writing for the last post, and in a way, I guess it also helped show the thought process that goes into my designs, so I suppose it’d be a pretty good idea to continue with that trend. The topic of this little roundup is going to be the weird, existential, and flat out illegal things that you can stick onto your body with the wonderful, horrible world of the prosthetic sciences. Because we’re dealing with highly illegal things, I’m going to add two brand new keys to the legend :ram (or ! if I end up overusing “smilies”) are prosthetics that are marked for the exclusive use of the guild unless otherwise noted, possession outside of their employment means landing in legal trouble. Think less litigation, more lady justice. :Crow (Or !) means a limb that isn’t just illegal, but hilariously illegal. Expect the reaction of authorities to move from “you’re under arrest” to “shoot on sight” I’m going to be adding these to the legend in the first post as well. So, without further ado, it’s Storytime. My Name is Adrian Walters. I’m 26 years old, I have a very high paying job in the guild, which I hate to death, as it probably will be the explicit reason for my untimely end. Now, you’re probably wondering what exactly I do. I’m a detective under the department of amalgamation, and it’s my job to hunt down the worst cases. I thought I might be able to put my degree in engineering to better work repairing the sundry constructs of the guild, but unfortunately, my family’s legacy of detective work shoehorned… I mean promoted me to a position straight under Charles Hoffman himself, investigating breaches in the amalgamation charter. And they say nothing good ever happens in malifaux… Now, my first case was a subject in the New Construction Zone. Supposedly the man in question had a pair of powder wars era arms, which are colloquially known to some as knuckledraggers. Some veterans have been allowed to keep them with proper permissions, but these were supposedly exhumed and modified. The gentleman wasn’t terribly hard to spot, what with prosthetics that could touch the ground standing. However, as opposed to the simple observation, I’d expected before calling the guards, my pursuit was noticed. His hands bent back unnaturally, a few terrifying mechanical shifts and pops sounded out, and a wicked looking sprang forth, still somewhat dirty with blood. In that exact moment I realized that by all means, while I was swimming in script, I was also horrifyingly underpaid (For the Knuckedraggers) ! Mantis Blade (15 Sc) The Fated has a hinged blade hidden in the forearm of their prosthetic limb that may be extended at will, that may be used as a natural weapon or with the small arms skill with the following profile Mantis Blade rg 3 / Res :Df/ This attack deals 2/4/6 damage, and can damage on disengaging strikes. If it does, you may push the target up to 3 yards towards the fated :crow Off with his head!: The target must discard a card or be killed instantly (note, authorities will probably react in an actively hostile manner towards you while this modification is noticeable) It was a short albeit unfortunately memorable chase, during which I dodged several reaping blows that carved the marketplace to bits, and would’ve assuredly taken my head If I hadn’t managed to dive shivering into a nearby patrol of guild guard Thankfully, they realized that the charging madman with arms like a praying mantis needed an immediate bullet dousing. And so, through the quick retrieval of the illegal augments and the fact that he was technically brought into custody, however deceased, meant my first job was finished by the book. And so I was escorted along with the guard patrol back to the guild enclave, carrying the contraband with me the entire way. As fast as we could, we made our way back to downtown, and while I was personally still paranoid even as we wandered through the downtown city streets. Soon after however, we were joined by a presence that paradoxically absolved and increased my paranoia one hundred fold. A guild executioner and retinue had decided to join up with us to report to the enclave, the executioner’s maniac grin paired with his gore painted claws making me feel safe from anything but him. ! Augment: Rending Claws (45Sc) The Fated’s Fingers are replaced with sharp, tearing claws, re-enforced to withstand torsion, granting them the following attack, counted as a Natural or Pneumatic attack Machine Talons Rg 1 :Melee/ Rst: DF/ The target suffers 3/4/4 damage. The power put into those claws were terrifying, meant to take a head in one blow without fail, though personally their size implicitly suggested to me that a human head wasn’t all they were meant to take Executioner’s Claws (10 Sc, Requires Enlarged Limb Augmentation) The range of the Fated’s Machine Talons attack is increased to 2 and gains +1/+1/+2, as If effected by the enlarged weapon trait. The limb gains the [Powered] trait Eventually our paths separated at the enclave, and it was only a short jaunt to the department where I was commended, rewarded, and promptly tossed ass over teakettle out the front door to pursue another target of the department. This time of course, I was to find someone with a rather over the top prosthesis. According to the Dossier, the man was supposedly so in violation of the charter, I wouldn’t even need to be told the model number of his augmentation which had been apparently lost to the record, only the saloon near the quarantine zone checkpoint that he frequented. This somewhat perturbed me, but alas, I had no choice but to pursue the target. It was to my better judgement that I removed all guild insignia before entering the fine establishment known as the “Belching Gremlin” by the issuance of its liquor license, or as it’s sign proudly announced, BAR. The dying embers of a classic brawl were at least assuring me that despite the people quite literally beside themselves outside the saloon due to violent bifurcation, I would still be entering at the statistically lowest point of tension possible. And that’s when I saw him. Possibly the finest, most glorious refutation of Darwinian evolution I’d seen… ever. Somewhere in this man’s life journey, at a point which I dare not even attempt to fathom, he had decided “yes, I would quite enjoy replacing my entire forearm with a gigantic sword”, a decision he then proceeded to follow through on ! Augment: Living Weapon (20+Special) The fated’s prosthetic forearm is replaced with a custom weapon, created using the custom weapons table from the fated almanac (the cost of which is incorporated into the final cost of the augmentation), with the exception that the weapon is always counted as properly wielded, EG an enlarged weapon that would normally require two hands to wield does not. The fated uses either the skill associated with the weapon or the pneumatics skill, whichever is lower. Due to replacement of the forearm, the fated no longer has access to the use of the removed hand. This augment takes up two slots. Thankfully, the arm was actually quite broken, a spoke of broken stool stuck between the pistons. Thanks to the intoxication of the gentleman the weapon was grafted to, I was able to escort him out of the bar for “repairs back at the shop”, paying his tab and I would also assume purchasing the silence of the bartender. Along the way to his unwitting incarceration, I actually had a somewhat jovial conversation, the man mentioning the various things he passed over for a graft, and for the first time that day, I felt lucky. Those who Deal Death (20+Special) The fated may replace his arm with any weapon properly procured, which is added to the cost of the limb. The fated receives to grace flips. By the time the man realized he was under arrest, it was far too late, and he was drunkenly slurring and threatening to brandish some weapon that simply failed to work. Perhaps the shocked look of the desk clerk should have tipped me off to the expected success rate of my job. His hand delivery thankfully gave me a much needed break as he was processed, the time of which was well spent re-acquainting myself with my long lost friend the green fairy, her correspondence kept faithfully in my breast pocket. About a finger deep into my liquid relief, none other than Hoffman himself spirited me back to his office for a short meeting. It’s extremely rude to stare, such is basic manners, especially at the equipment used to aid a crippled man, ultimately, I couldn’t help to do anything but. The way in which Hoffman’s prosthetics were absolutely staggering! Expertly made, expertly maintained, and fluid in motion, his body moved seemed to move as if he were using his flesh and blood limbs :ram Prosthetic: Backboiler (35 Sc) This prosthetic is not one In the traditional sense of the word, rather, it is a minor pressure boiler powered by a soulstone, which also serves to function in keeping the spine straight. The hydraulic pressure can be used to activate prosthetics with the [Powered] Characteristic, and can also be used to reduce an action taken by a connected limb by 1 AP once per turn. If sufficiently damaged (hit directly by a severe critical or dealt damage accounting for more than half the fated’s wounds), a backboiler will explode, dealing 2/3/5 damage to everything in 3 yards ! Prosthetic: Full Brace (65 Sc) [Powered] This prosthetic properly braces the entirety of the human body. The full brace, if properly installed, can replace the functionality of the spine, and reverse paralysis while the prosthetic is active. The full brace properly balances all other sponsoned prosthetics, removing all penalties imposed to grace checks. In addition, the fated also increases their carrying capacity by 20 pounds while the brace is active I could easily see rivets where more copious bracing could easily be installed in certain spots along the course of the brace proper, he seemed to be remaining rather casual with his setup, seemingly, he had all the articulation he needed without further need for direct mechanical control. Heavy Bracing (30 Sc) the fated gains +2 wounds while wearing the brace, and gains Armor +1 if the condition isn’t otherwise being granted. The meeting was somewhat terse in nature, and while I felt at first it may have been because of my open ogling of my direct superior’s prosthetics, but once more the actual subject matter was breached, I knew almost immediately that it was due to the seriousness of the situation. I was to depart immediately with a specific target, disclosing my operation to nobody, and carrying no dossier. The subject had been spotted multiple times along the banks of river in the northern slums over the course of weeks, but nothing had been done due to the fact that no guard patrols had actually been able to find the figure. Once the suspect was apprehended, he was to be returned to Hoffman’s office directly. This was quite serious, to the point where I was offered a peacebringer pistol to take along with me. My collier army would serve me just as well, as the “combat experience” part of my job application may have been fudged entirely, which I quite intentionally failed to mention before departing. I trawled along the riverfront for hours, the sound of steel scraping against cobblestone lingering in the air the whole time, always seeming a step behind me before I turned around. Each and every time the sound disappeared, leaving only my paranoia and the mist coming off the waters to keep me company. After some time, and a bit of unsettling experimentation, I realized there was more than paranoia contributing to my fear of the situation. It started when I noticed the flash of sparks reflected off of the polished back of my brass lantern, conveniently stopping when I turned to see their source. Then, I took tests of pace; fifty paces, Stop, Nothing there. Forty paces, stop, nothing. After two-hundred agonizing paces, at which point it felt like Mephistopheles himself was breathing down my neck, I turned and drew my pistol to see yet more nothing. And so I did the only thing that made sense in that nonsensical situation, which was to fire freely into the open air Which... cried out in pain? Blood flowed from seemingly nothing before I saw a hellish creature before me fizzling into existence, it’s face gnarled and twisted, like a grotesque parody of human suffering, it’s body seeming to follow anatomy more as a suggestion than a guideline, and it’s arms… raw pressure tubes contained within a bony looking frame… It was like a child’s nightmare of an augmentation gone wrong. ! Augment: stripped-iron limb(30 Sc) When this limb is created, choose a physical aspect. The fated’s trait in that aspect is negative, they may take a wound during the dramatic time to make the aspect count as positive for a flip. If the aspect is positive, the fated may take a wound to gain a positive flip on a duel. It was unsettling, he was bleeding like they were freshly added, I nearly lost my Composition, Sanity, and afternoon snack in one fell swoop, somehow retaining all three long enough to notice what seemed to be secondary actuators and torsion springs below the surface that had no business being there. Body mimicry (20 Sc) When the fated suffers a wound from an outside source, they may count that wound as the one needed to activate the stripped-iron limb And somehow, my threats and intimidation…worked. I cuffed those nightmarish limbs together, but somehow, the mists betrayed me. As we approached the enclave, the nightmarish visage of the figure slowly shifted into that of a well-to-do gentleman, but that still failed to change the fact that his limbs were quite illegal unfortunately though, my suggested route was blocked by none other than the governor general’s secretary. My jaw nearly dropped to the floor. As much as I wanted to heed Hoffman’s orders, the man standing in front of me was still one of the highest ranking members of the guild. Apparently, the man in my custody had a special summons to a disciplinary hearing. I couldn’t tell how, but checking the ...thing's pocket, he had papers that matched the name on the summons, so I had no choice but to do so. My visit with Hoffman wasn’t colored by rage as I expected, merely disappointment. He took me up to the dining hall for some coffee, speaking of the kind of justice that often got served in malifaux. And as we walked by the main entrance, the same man I'd brought in was leaving, his grotesque arms sporting one notable addition ! Augment: Certifications (500 Sc) The limb sports both an official guild crest, and a set of papers. This means that the proper channels have been passed through, danced around, or thoroughly manipulated to the point where the limb is officially approved by the guild. The limb is officially certified, and as long as the crest is displayed clearly, is visibly legal, no matter how actually it actually is, the law has spoken in this regard. This does not count towards the total number of augments on the limb. That was what Hoffman wanted to prevent. The real justice of the guild, not meted out by proper enforcers, but doled out selectively in its own interest, a petty cabal of ram-horned tyrants. I continued the job, but it was different from that point. I trained with my pistol, I now hunt my targets less like a detective and more like a predator, if I don’t deal justice myself, there's no guarantee it will ever catch up to them. If there is ever going to be a difference In Malifaux, I have to be that difference myself.

Thanks a ton Ampers&nd! I really do try to put thought into my stuff, I'm pretty close to dropping the next installment of my derpy little collection of parts and services, and if there's anything you'd want to see, feel free to ask!

It… is Time! I’ve decided to add in a mod for each of the main factions from Malifaux, and give them something based on their faction. Also, I decided on trying a bit different presentation for you guys this time (Note; 3hot5the forum: editions due to too "emotocons" (seeing as the mechanics symbols are technically emotocons) the aftermarket alteration tag has been changed to (+) for this post) Welcome, welcome. Please take a seat, I know this kind of place can be off-putting at first, what with the mechanical limbs hanging about like some sort of meat market, but I assure you, it’s simply best to keep them on the… show floor as it were, this way all the parts I carry are in arms reach. The prospect of an interview made me wary at first, but once I realized you had nothing to do with the guild’s rags, I knew sharing my stories didn’t have to mean censoring myself at every opportunity. so, where to start then… ah yes, speaking of the guild… (Guild) Those lucky few of the guild guard who served alongside a guardian know what kind of strength they can bring to a patrol. The conversation eventually staggered down this very route every time I’ve spoken to one who had. Those still in service can truly be terrifying, knights of shining armor, they look ready to face down a charging bull at all times. But sadly, these glorious machines are starting to fall into disrepair from what I’ve heard. The guard’s solution vary, some turning to the aftermarket for repairs that requisitions can’t provide, others pursuing creations that bear a striking resemblance to the old guard. Some however, take it to another level entirely, taking up the arms of their former comrade, in the most literal sense possible. Augment: Guardian Aegis (15+Special SS) (Special: this requires a contact in possession of such a limb, whose prices may vary to fatemaster discretion) This augment may only be added to a full limb. This limb is paired with a kite shield, that has a special slot where it may be kept while not in use, and may be retrieved with a (0) action. While Wielding this shield, the fated gains the following trigger: (DF) : Grinding Halt: For the remainder of this action, the fated gains the following condition: Armor +2 The guards take this quite seriously, it’s like being the next great torchbearer for the squad, men can hide behind guardians when overwhelmed, so in a way, you’re the next great bulwark of the squad. And some have even volunteered to take on experimental upgrades for just that purpose (+) Wall of Iron Integration (20 Ss) add +10 pounds to the weight of the paired shield. When you take the defensive stance action, you gain the following condition until your next activation: Armor +1 It’s truly one of those things that shows just how deep human respect for a machine can go, I once had a man who walked in with a guardian that couldn’t be worked over according to the mercantilers, both his natural arms functioning, saying he wanted one as a graft. I asked him in jest if he wanted me to cut off one of his working arms and he said yes! Of course I’m not going to cut off a man’s arm though, so low and behold, the man walked in not three hours later missing the arm he wanted replaced, apparently, he’d volunteered for a patrol mission in the quarantine zone, and gleefully practiced his shield bash until some unholy thing relieved him of his fleshy burden. (+) Wall of Iron Articulation (20 Ss) you gain the following attack, which may either use the pneumatics or small arms skill: Shield bash Rg 1 Melee/Res DF/ If you succeed, the target gains slow (Resurectionists) It somewhat unsettles me to think of the quarantine. I know little to nothing of the inner machinations of the Resurrectionist mind, and the knowledge I have gleaned second through fourth-hand allows me to be comfortable with my ignorance in this one case. However my tenure as a Limb-smith in Malifaux has brought me more firsthand experience than I’d ever want in my life. the curious prosthesis that I have seen from time to time could be little other than a malign tool of these grave robbers, hydraulic pumps of curious, if not innovative design ending in wicked syringes, leaking unholy fluid, passing through my shop in need of repair. How they reach the front door I’ll never know, as I haven’t quite the courage to ask Augment: Necrotic Injector (30ss) This augment holds up to 10 samples of poisons. These samples may be restored by siphoning off of a virulent source, such as a corpse, poisonous plant, or bottles poison like formaldehyde. When making an unarmed attack, or while making an attempt to initiate or continue a grapple, the fated gain the following trigger : Infection: Remove one sample from this limb, the target gains the Poison +1 condition for each in the final duel total. The fated may take a (1) action give a weapon of their choice the same trigger until the end of turn. (To fatemaster’s discretion, this augment may be possibly certified as an embalmer's tool, either by legitimate channels or otherwise, though special papers would be in order to prevent arrest) What disturbs me more is that there is obviously true genius in their ranks, I spoke of those pumps, there was one that didn’t even have any mechanical parts touching the fluid, just a flexible tube and a set of rollers that applied pressure, no friction would meet the liquid. I’ve squirreled away notes on the design, though I’d otherwise dread the day I was asked its origin where I’m not able to first explain myself (+) Transfusion system (25ss) you may draw poison from friendly or otherwise disabled undead. In addition, you may freely give up to poison +5 to a single friendly undead, spending a number of samples equal to the poison given their madness truly can be insidious it seems… I’d like this to be off the record, but I’ve found myself on occasion contemplating ways to improve the design, knowing both medicine and mechanics, though I banish the thought once I realize what I’ve been doing. (+) Dripping with vitriol (20 SS) this modification may be purchased multiple times. This limb holds an additional 10 samples (5 with each purchase past the number of augments on the limb). In addition, weapons integrated into this limb gain the Infectious trigger automatically, with no need to spend an action. Arcanists: Oxford is my alma mater if you could believe a man would be allowed into Malifaux with such an education, but thankfully, I didn’t quite take their infamous magics course… entirely. What little I did was all towards my actual degree is between physiology and engineering, specifically to the order of my occupation. What magic I did learn let me realize why a device like an indexer is necessary, the arcane is a mind warping practice that bends blurs the line between art and science, and requires a tool that can toe that line even when it’s near invisible it’s a tuning fork for magic itself, puzzling and beautiful Augment: Oxfordian Indexer (65ss) Upon the creation of this limb, choose an Immuto. When the included Immuto is included in a spell which the limb is incorporated into (including but not limited to holding the grimoire, being used to prepare a ritual, or being cast through the limb) Add to the casting flip of that spell. Personally, I’ve heard that Viktor Ramos of all people has a special interest in the device, I can understand why, even outside a limb, it can be immensely useful for construct construction, despite being bulky to hold. From what I’ve read of his dissertation, there is a specific variant of the device he might find interesting (+) Gauss Amplifier (35 ss) If the chosen Immuto is the electric Immuto, spells that include it may be cast again if they succeed with +2 to the target number for each previous success, but only against targets with armor But then again, given the composition of Malifaux, and the litany of things that go bump in the night, I could see other uses for such a device, especially when it comes the old exclamation, I believe it was “kill it with fire?” (+) Pyretic engine (35 ss) If the chosen Immuto is the Fire Immuto, the first time this Immuto is added to a spell, that spell gives an additional burning +1 (Neverborn) I’m asked every so often if I would repeat my decision to choose Malifaux as the location of my little shop, and even though I find myself situated in the nicer part of Malifaux city, even though my bank account has ballooned to ridiculous numbers, I still have a hard time settling on an answer. This is a world of nightmares, and I feel nowhere is safe from them. The Aethervox in my master chamber has blared to life on occasion, and I dare not scan for new stations, lest I hear the hellish whispers mixed into the static and while I’ve serviced many a disturbing limb… If you could close the record again…one of them… I’ll be blessed if it ever leaves my memory, but I fear those eldritch notes on its creation may never leave me Stitched Replacement(20ss) This limb has a sense of touch similar to a real limb, and feels as if it were a flesh and blood limb, in addition to having a similar profile. Attempts to hide this limb as normal limb gain and attempts to pick it out as an artificial limb gain should it’s true nature be revealed, the fated would be branded an outlaw unless the evidence was suppressed It was unnatural… nightmarish… I could barely sleep for nights afterwards, it was like the arm of a doll, made with fabric, zippers and stuffing… it moved with no reason to do so (+) Smuggling chambers (5 ss) the limb gains up to 10 pounds of hands-free carrying capacity. All items kept in the chambers are considered to be in contact with the fated Twine moved like sinew, it had had fabric for muscles and thread for ligaments… I apologize. It’s foolish of me to ramble at such lengths. (+) Enigmatic function (15 ss) Criticals that effect this limb have to flip twice, and take the result of the flip of the Fated’s choice (Outcasts) To change the subject, There’s plenty of reason for my wealth, Malifaux is a very brutal place, the kind of place where if you can afford it, you want to get your limb back before its absence costs you your life. From my downtown perch I see little of the day to day violence that goes on not even a stone’s throw from my building, but it’s not terribly uncommon that I get an indirect brush with it, all too often from mercenaries of note who want, If possible, a limb that will serve them just as well, if not better than their former extension, and for this, study and research conducted in Malifaux have refined the kind of limb capable of making someone as much of a killing machine as the weapon they wield. Augment: Sharpshooter’s bracing (40 ss) The first time each turn that the fated takes a focus action, they receive the Focused +2 condition from that action while wielding a firearm It’s often said that you can’t purchase self-improvement, and I suppose in many ways that’s still true, unfortunately for many, I personally make a point to prove that praxis false as soon as science allows. Currently, I’ve been working on a gyroscope that allows stabilization much in the same fashion that a professional sharpshooter braces their weapon (+) Balancing stabilizer (30 ss) as long as you haven’t taken a walk or charge action, and have taken the focus action at least once this turn, the focused condition does not end at end of turn. Of course, I do realize that many times, discretion is the better part of bravery, but the fact is sometimes you can’t well run. And while it would be quite coffer-filling if my clients had no response for being cornered and had to come to my shop for repairs each time they were as some have done, I find it vastly more ethical and lucrative to give them options and have them come back alive to browse at their leisure myself (+) Emergency Pikeman Piston (15 ss) if the focus condition is spent on a bayonet attack, the damage flip for that attack gains (Gremlins) As much as I seem to woe my place in Malifaux city, for the terrifying encounters it’s brought me, I wish to make something perfectly clear. even if I was honestly offered the position of governor general of Malifaux, with the full backing of the guild and M&SU, on the sole condition that I spend a day in the wilderness, much less the bayou, I would use my training in physiology to tell the nice man offering the exact technique as to how, where, and with what expediency to shove said offer. I guess it really is a testament to the human species that our stock can survive in such a god-forsaken place, but when a gangly man hobbled into my office with a book of scrip in his hand, and asked me to service possibly the strangest looking artificial limb I’d seen in my life, I realized deep within the bayou, the final secret of innovation lies dormant, the ability to make something that should by no means function do exactly what it shouldn’t. Piecemeal Limb (30 sc) The wielder of this limb gains the following attack, counted as a natural or pneumatic attack (1) Stabby bits Rng 1 /Rst: DF/ the target suffers 1/3/4 damage kinda rusty: after damaging, the target gains the Poison +1 condition the fated also gains the following ability: (0)Wait, that doohickey does what?(Ca 5/TN 12) Until end of turn, the fated’s “Stabby bits” attack becomes “Shooty bits”, replacing it’s ranged with 12 I offered him one of our newest braces, top of the line with blued steel and engravings, and still he turned it down, he was dead set on keeping the rust-bucket attached to his body, I was surprised the man didn’t have tetanus to begin with, or maybe he’d developed an immunity (+) extra rusty (0sc) the fated gains to their stabby bits attack, but takes -1 on their first endurance test of the day The most I could coax out of him is that some swamp dweller named “sparks” gave the limb to him on the order of some unknown third party. Then again, he could have very well been lying, after all, what parent in their right mind would name their child sparks? (+) extra shooty (10 ss) the TN of “wait, that doohickey does what?” becomes 9, and the moderate and severe damage gain (Ten Thunders) I part with a tale of intrigue, you can choose not to believe, but I’ll always know the truth of what happened. A little while ago, a young gentleman who seemed a perfectly normal man of means outside of his monolithic stature, came for my services. He wanted a checkup on the roots of his prostesis, something I was surprised he didn’t know how to do himself considering the lengths we conversed on the subject of his limb, even noting that we’d attended the same college. When his greatcoat came off for the prep-work though, a hitch of unease crept into his voice as I began to notice…curiosities. His undershirt had the faintest scent of poppies, his breath still had a particular spice to it though his teeth were fastidiously cleaned, and the ornamentation on his limbs, while beyond immaculate, had the unmistakable flare of the orient. He offered apologies to attempt to placate me, but when I could finally see flesh meeting metal, I saw that his artificial limbs weren’t the only part of his body ornamented. We reached a queer deal, I would stay silent regarding the peculiar association his body art implied, as long as he would allow me to look over his maddeningly intricate limbs. I won’t lie, memories of that day still drive me to invent. Every piece was a puzzle, from the identity of the silken figure on his back, to the maddening efficiency of the gears that tweaked every small part of his limb. However, I have recreated one small piece of that puzzle, and if you find yourself intrigued, you may just find yourself the opportunity to take a piece of my story home with you… Augment: Lady Misaki’s gift (30ss) (Special: You may not purchase this upgrade unless you have spent 25Sc+ gilding this limb, and have a connection to either a capable limb-maker, or the ten thunders) Your arm gains a thin, retractable, razor sharp blade, which self-applies a powerful neurotoxin. While this limb is illegal if the modification were to be discovered, the limb must be fully disassembled to do so, the blade slit seamlessly merged into the gilding. When deployed, you may use the following attack with either small arms, pneumatics, pugilism, or martial arts: Sting of the sparrow wasp Rg 1 /Res: DF/ This attack deals 1/2/6 damage. If moderate damage is flipped, the target is slowed. If severe damage is flipped, the target is paralyzed. This attack gains to the attack and damage flip He was a skilled person in many ways. The limbs were of personal make, extremely dexterous, and capable of moving much like a natural human arm could, if it couldn’t be done in a superior fashion. Apparently as a child, he’d read plenty of books of journeys to the orient, and the fantastic treasures it contained, and had even found a manual or six so he could start to learn martial arts (+) Fluid striking (10 sc) if martial arts or pugilism is used to attack, you may substitute the damage track and range of that skill (along with any bonuses you may have to that skill) for the damage track of sting of the sparrow wasp It was clear to me that while this was the only part that he himself hadn’t designed, he had certainly made modifications to make it his own. our session ended, and without causing too much of a fuss, he thanked me, tipped quite handsomely, and disappeared as well as he could into the crowded streets of Malifaux city, just as every other customer I’ve ever served. (+) Steel Within Gold (0 ss, requires 35 ss of gilding on the limb) this augment does not count against the total amount on the limb I thank you for the interview my friend, and until next time… payment? No need my dear boy, the increase in traffic this will bring will be more than sufficient. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I have a late appointment soon, and I’d like to scrub down before she arrives… one word of advice to your readers, if you have pneumatics in your limb, a lighter hammer is suggested, remember, you don’t need quite as much force anymore. (up next, hilariously illegal augments, and after that, something that's been a long time coming, the clue is already in the thread~) (edit: fixed some minor spell/cap errors)

I feel like this has been asked before, but I can't find it for the life of me is the chesterfield carbine supposed to be worse than the other carbines? I feel like I'm going crazy trying to understand the appeal of this weapon, or am I over-analyzing it,and it's all just for fluff reasons?

@rotatingpanda I'd assume they're either talking about the base books, or the upcoming expansions, which seem to be full books in their own right @Aaron why do you taunt us so?

handload is clearly best load. otherwise, I agree on having it act as an automatic handload effect for right now, if the campaign lasts through year's end, through the steam will drop during gen-con, and may have something for this scenario

I hadn't seen the monday previews in a while... and the augmented... and all these pursuits... They're going to have to invent a new word for just how ready my body is for this book

The stars have aligned under a foul moon, and I'm watching log horizon again. it's time for another post. First, a clarification to something from the above post, and something I can't believe I missed, I actually forgot something on the Pneumatic Hammer (on the pneumatic hammer) Spike Divet (10Sc) Gain the following trigger on your attacks: Pin: After damaging, the effected model can't move until the end of the round The Rail workers were actually the ones that inspired the hammer in the first place, seeing as they have a martial arts (5) damage track, but a longer range than normal. now, while I don't bely that as the end all/be all of the situation, it's good to "Draw inspiration from nature" as it were (and it were pretentious) I've always seem the best way to do things in something adaptive is to look towards the source material for ideas, everything from theme to lore can inspire mechanics. with that speil out of the way, it's time for some augments (I'm still using the key from the first post) Augment: Belaying Limb (15 Sc) Are you the type to find yourself in PRECARIOUS situations again and again? Need to QUICKLY SCALE the most TOWERING PEAKS? our new KNOT-RESISTANT braided wire cable only ties itself into loops when YOU want it to! you'll be ON TOP OF THE WOLD in no time! This limb contains a coil of braided metal wire, which can be used for multiple purposes. Often this limb carries a grappling spur which can be thrown or placed to prevent a fatal fall. Otherwise, the cord may be tied around a thrown weapon without penalty. The cord has a total length of 30 yards, and can retracted by 10 yards with 1AP. As it has internal motors, this arm must be serviced as at a cost of 4sc per month. Snap Piston (5 Sc) once per dramatic time, this cord (and anything attached to it) may be retracted it’s entire length for a (0) action Whip extention (10 Sc) The first 4 yards of this whip counts as a Custom whip with the Folded steel characteristic. Due to how it’s made, you cannot be disarmed using this whip. Grappling spear (25 Sc) inspired by the guild’s own peacekeepers, the standard deployment mechanism for the belay is replaced with a speargun with the following profile; Speargun Rg12 / Rst: Df / the target suffers 2/4/6 damage and gains the Slow condition Pull and Drag: after damaging, push the target 6 yards towards you Maim: generate a weak critical effect off the critical effects table This weapon’s spear remains embedded in the target until otherwise withdrawn, which is automatic if desired. Also, while 12 yards is the effective range of the weapon, it may still be used to grapple surfaces as before. Also, if you have the concealed weapon limb trait, the speargun (and up to 3 replacement spears) may be chosen as your hidden weapon, and may be deployed and fired with the same action Augment: Bladed Vambrace 25 Sc a TRUE GENTLEMAN is never without his TRUSTY WEAPON to not only defend himself, but the FINE LADY he's assured to be escorting if affluent enough to purchase one of our QUALITY PRODUCTS! The forearm of this prosthetic contains a strong retractable blade oriented for combat, which may be freely extended or retracted whenever this character preforms an action. This blade has a range of two yards, and a 2/3/4 damage track, and you may use this weapon with either your melee or small arms skill. Reversible Track +10 Sc This weapon’s blade may be deployed from the elbow as well as the wrist. Martial Arts attacks made using this limb gain to the damage flip, and may damage on disengaging strikes Ballistic Deployment 20 Sc This weapon’s blade is meant to be deployed through intense impact, enforced by a powder cartridge. When making a Pugilism attack, you may deploy the blade, this attack’s damage flip ignores Armor, Hard to Wound, and Hard to Kill, and automatically generates a Medium critical effect. Cartridges cost 1sc, and take 1AP to replace. Augment: Braced Leg 15 Sc Ready to STAND UP TALL? want to stand still and alert, even wielding THE HEAVIEST TOOLS? want to have INSURANCE when your brain and body are telling you TWO DIFFERENT THINGS? use our revolutionary STILL-STANDIN' BRACE and you won't be moving from your spot any time soon You may use 1 AP to deploy or reclaim one or more hidden piles or other such devices from your leg. You cannot be pushed, placed, or take a walk action, forced or otherwise while they are deployed Friekorps Alteration (Member 15, non-member 40) you gain the following ability: Augmented Jump: The Fated ignores terrain and other blocking presences when moving during a Charge Action. The fated may declare a Charge Action when engaged. Combat Integration (Requires Combat-ready limb) 5 Sc Martial arts attacks made with this limb may push the target up to 3 yards away from you Braced Joints (Requires a full limb, 20 Sc) on grace checks imposed by other augments do not apply. This fated may carry an extra 20 lbs. Prosthetic: Automated Eye (30 Sc) This Prosthetic replaces the full function of an eye that had been previously lost, as well as replacing some of the skull around it to fit the housing. This Prosthetic may have (1?) augment. Augment: Stonefinder (20 Sc) THIS AUGMENT ALL BUT PRINTS YOU SCRIP! laugh ALL THE WAY TO THE BANK as you PLUCK SOULSTONES FROM THE EARTH like a TINY MONKEY plucks DELICIOUS MANGOES from a tree! only these MANGOES are made of MONEY! This augment allows the location of soulstones through up to 4 feet of solid rock, appearing as a dull glow to the augmented. Unless otherwise shielded against detection, this eye can distinguish soulstones up to ten yards away (when not encased in rock), including those powering other prosthetic limbs. Precision tuning (10 Sc) The user can easily distinguish between the visual cues of charged and uncharged stones Augment: Polarized Lens (10 Sc) Using new advancements in LENS GALVANIZATION and CHROMATIC ALTERATION, these lenses not only help you see past BLINDING GLARES, but they also let you pick the color of the eye you always wanted, perhaps a DISTINGUISHED BLUE to catch someone's gaze, or maybe a MYSTERIOUS HAZEL to keep them wondering. Even a WILD, TERRIFYING RED like the beasts of the night is available to you! This augment allows the fated to ignore glare or blinding light and allows the eye to adjust instantly to a change in light conditions. The fated may also pick the color of the new eye. High Contrast Lens (15 Sc) The fated can easily pick out small differences in color and ignores all given by soft cover (a great big high five to Wakshaani, you got to this before I did, I wanted to give some options you didn’t drop) And with that, It looks like I’m off again. Forecast for next time? Depends, I’m either thinking some upgrades based on some certain factions from a certain base game, or some hilariously illegal stuff (and the only reason you’d ever be allowed to enter downtown Malifaux again after attaching them to yourself) on the off-chance anyone is invested in seeing another particular post, drop any questions, comments, or suggestions and I’ll answer them ASAP Until Then, May your Craziest Metal Dreams come true! (Minor edit 1: Added actual text for augmented jump, adjusted to TTB) (Minor edit 2: Added some style-guiding, and fixed one typo) (Minor edit 3: Added the ability to remember to actually fix typos instead of saying I did. Blowout Update soon fellow stalker)