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STORY LEAGUE UPDATE; Reno/Tahoe/Sparks Malifaux Organized Play

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General league information and module 1 scenarios can be found here:




The rules for module 2, scenario 1, for general play during the hobby night this Saturday, September 27 at Heroes Games and Hobbies are listed below (as well as the story update based on the results of module 1, scenario 4):


The field had been cleared with most of the gathering wisely withdrawing having encountered far more than they had bargained for.  The legend of Jack Daw was ubiquitous, known to pretty much everyone, as he is indelibly linked to the Hanging Tree, a landmark few fail to take notice of passing through the Breach.  That this macabre specter had now stirred from his perch atop the site of Malifaux’s most famous gallows would likely create headlines in the various Ragsheets not seen since the Event.


Tara had been the first to engage Daw and his group of madmen.  While some of his crew had been fellow ornaments of the Hanging Tree, still others seemed to have congregated at the site having been beckoned into the service of Daw’s dark spirit.  Some form of primal power emanated from his visage, and while it compared little to the tyrannical energies of Obliteration, it nonetheless made Tara hesitate.

She and her crew were diminished from their engagements of the past few days.  Karina especially seemed much more agitated than normal, and seemed overly frustrated with her inability to conjure reinforcements from Obliteration’s realm.  While it seemed unwise, Tara was curious to get to the bottom of why Daw had gone to the trouble of riling so many dangerous individuals in Malifaux.


It quickly became apparent she was a fool to challenge him in her current state.  A tangle of nooses quickly ensnared the remnants of her allies, pulling them into the Hanging Tree itself, and their screams quickly added to the cacophony of the ongoing scuffles in the area. 


As Jack Daw gazed upon her, she could sense a great hostility toward her person.  “We sense within you, the presence of an oppressor.  Its power must be extinguished!” 


The voices were disconcerting.  It was utterly different than the eerie silence and solitude of Obliteration’s prison, with the tormented voices of thousands screaming inside you head all at once.  It was little wonder Karina, whose fragile psyche had been shattered in that place, was quickly breaking down in this presence.


As she watched in horror, a noose was quickly tossed over Karina’s head, and the woman wailed in torment as she began to be pulled toward Daw and his crew.  Pulling her Peacebringer and firing, Tara was confounded to see the bullet pass right through the rope that seemed to be spectral in nature.  While she was loathe to abandon the woman having saved her from her eternity of solitude inside Obliteration, it was looking like she may have little choice in the matter despite their co-dependency in Tara’s unlife.


With a flourish, the rope suddenly ignited and split, and a young urchin swooped in gathering up Karina’s struggling form in a display of inhuman strength and agility.  Grabbing Tara’s duster, the young man yanked her along as he passed by as well.


Having put a fair amount of distance between them and the Hanging Tree, the boy released his hold on Tara and threw Karina’s flailing form to the ground.  “Whoa! Easy there Twitchy!  I just saved your old ass from the scary dead dudes, so you can stop freaking out and get your shit back together now.”


Turning around and getting his first good look at Tara, the kid’s eyes quickly widened with a mix of shock and admiration, “Holy hole!  Who’d you have to piss off to wind up looking like my favorite breakfast food granny?!?”  Taking in her pallor and obvious state of undeath, Tara could quickly sense him dismissing her as likely being mindless.


Looking back at Karina, he said, “Umm Twitchy, I know you’re still in need of some mental health days, but make sure to tell her ‘holeyness’ that I’m a friend or she’s gonna get lit up.”


Tara could only smile at the young man’s exuberance.  “Hun, there’s really no need to worry about me eating your brains.  While my friend Karina there helps maintain my physical body’s condition, I tend to have to cope with most of the thinking for the both of us.”


In response, all he did was look at her and shrug.  “Whatever.  I gave up trying to figure out the elderly a long time ago.  Speaking of geriatrics, the really really old Swamp Hag sent me with Crazy Town and her box of tricks to put the human swing set in the ground and tell people there’s some scary stuff about to go down.”


“What kind of stuff exactly?  Jack Daw and a bunch of condemned at the Hanging Tree coming back to life already seems pretty bad to me.”


Seemingly annoyed by the question he responded, “I dunno, old people stuff I guess.”


He seemed distracted, and following his gaze back to the Hanging Tree, Tara noticed a woman with fiery hair levitating above the ground while spirits of all shapes and colors poured forth from a box in her hands.  The madness of the scene as they swirled around Jack Daw and his tormented looked like nothing she wanted any part of.


“Don’t worry about Crazy Town, while she may look a bit prissy, she’s not likely to go down to the swingers.”  Looking again at Karina, “You and Twitchy may want to skedaddle though.  Go see the Hag if you want.”


And with that, the little ruffian was sprinting off toward the ensuing battle, fires blazing from his hands.


Karina had finally settled down a bit and lay on the ground weeping.  Reaching down to help her up, Tara said “Come on Hun, it looks like we’ll be taking a little cruise to the Bayou.”



Module 2: Bayou Bush Whackin’


Scenario 1- Safe Passage

In the wake of events at the Hanging Tree, it seems the swamp hag Zoraida may have some answers.  While rumors have it she may finally have succumbed to her advanced age or a foe, having not been seen or heard from in a few months, you know her hut can only be found deep within the Bayou, and figure it is worth investigating.  To this end, you send a trusted henchman ahead to book passage downriver to seek her out.

Unfortunately, others have had the same idea, and it looks like there is currently a shortage of boats available for travel.


Size- 20SS


Deployment- Close


Special Rules-

·         20SS crew with no augmentation of SS cache (Henchman’s printed value only)

·         Must contain EXACTLY 4 models

·         Legal, faction-specific crews, which may purchase permissible upgrades

·         No actions/abilities/triggers that create additional models or soulstones

·         Models may not be buried by actions/abilities/triggers

·         Other than Regeneration +X, no actions/abilities/triggers that heal damage


Terrain- N/A


Victory Conditions-

Major- Turf War (Starting Turn 1)

Minor- Assassinate


“I told you that damn pig was too heavy!  We’re lucky our boat made it all the way upriver chasing after some darn hocus pocus nonsense before her fat ass sunk us!  Now we have to go booking passage on some stinky human boat just to get home.  I’m telling you, this ain’t no place for a lady!”


“Don’t go getting your panties all up in a bundle Trixie, and stop blaming Gracie, she ain’t done nothing wrong!”


“Panties? I ain’t wearing no panties!  Wanna see there Burt?  It’s gonna cost you of course, but I’ll take payment in bacon, and Hag knows the oinker oughta be good for plenty of that!”


A loud, stuttering snore interrupted the argument.  “Ugh, the worthless thing fell asleep again!  This is the last time a lady like me is gonna be taking work with you losers!”


Trixiebelle was at her wit’s end.  Wong could keep his fancy clothes and fame, she wasn’t never coming back to this human-plagued city.  He’d have to take back that fugly old assistant of his, because there ain’t no way she’d be staying on.  All this chasing after some fancy ghost for his show only to be sent back empty handed.  And these pale “big folks” smelled worse than a washed Neverborn, and while she got plenty of second looks, not one of them had bought her a drink yet.  The nerve!  This eye-candy isn’t free, but there ain’t no telling them “big folks” nothin’.


To make things worse, the few humans that would talk to her couldn’t seem to help expedite a trip downriver.  She had plenty of their worthless paper money, even offered up the ones she ain’t used to wipe with yet, but none of them seemed interested in helping out a damsel in distress.  Of course Burt and the oinker weren’t helping.  Why Wong had insisted they come along was beyond her reckoning.


Having given up on finding someone to hire out in the shipping offices, Trixiebelle had decided to go see if she could scare up a floater dockside to get back to the Bayou.  And whether they liked it or not, something that would hold the oinker wasn’t gonna be no consideration of hers.  The nasty thing wasn’t likely to sink and could float on home behind ‘em for all she cared.


As she sauntered down the next dock, she heard the sound of retching like someone had been downing some bad ‘shine.  “My word, are you what passes as a girl among the gremlinoids?!? No wonder they keep their womenfolk hidden, you’re one nasty looking midget!”


A crimson tinge tainted her verdant cheeks at the insolence of the man.  As she readied to rush the Wastrel and deliver a good slap, she was startled by Burt having discharged his pepperbox, levelling the fool in a single shot.  “This here woman is a lady, and ain’t no ‘big-folk’ gonna get away with talkin’ to her like that!”


While his actions may have been excessive, Trixiebelle’s heart swelled hearing the admiration for her in Burt’s voice.  She’d always thought he only had eyes for that pig.


But it was time to get down to business.  The Wastrel’s friends hadn’t taken kindly to his fate, and the one with the turban looked like trouble.

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