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McCabe and Friends


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Hello everyone,

My local group is running a Shifting Loyalties campaign with some modifications. We are starting with a 50ss arsenal with the Master *for free* but limited to only one faction upgrade at the start. I started out with a themey Lynch crew but after going 4-0 I have decided to switch it up. Since I always view these campaigns as learning exercises (and I have learned Lynch by now) I've decided to go with 10T McCabe who I have not played with or won with (as Guild) yet. In the spirit of the campaign I've written a short story detailing how this crew came together. I hope you like it. :mellow:


Lucas McCabe scanned the horizon – sunset. Clouds drifted sluggishly over the mined-out mountaintops. Grey slate and chipped rubble were strewn across the surrounding area, shouting their distress at the sky for being unearthed. Almost time.

“Are you sure this is the correct location?” Queeg asked, tapping his whip against his hip in time to his footsteps, pacing slowly.

“The lonely tree at the base of the empty mountains, that’s what the little lady said.” McCabe sighed, looking back at the tree they had stopped at, the only one for miles. One of his Wastrels leaned against it, smoking and taping his foot, impatient as always. The tree was grey and rotting, dead. The area surrounding it not much better. Queeg hmm’d and resumed his pacing around the tree. The wastrel stirred.

“I’m sick of waiting! We’ve been here for hours! If I have to stand here for-“

“Quiet.” Queeg whispered. McCabe saw fear flash in the wastrel’s eyes, replaced by arrogance in a moment. “Whatever.” He spat.

A heartbeat later the hair on McCabe’s neck rose to attention and his hand flashed to his cavalry sabre, twisting to face the tree as lighting flashed across the sky. The sound of oil slick denim ripping shredded its way through McCabe’s head as a black wound appeared in the air, matching the horizon and bleeding shadowy ooze. Hands with long, black nails appeared and separated the dark line into an orifice the size of a man.

McCAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABE The sound was not audible but internal, inside McCabe’s head, echoing nails on a chalkboard. He winced, and noticed the Wastrel do the same, covering his ears as if that would help. Queeg stared, enthralled.

An old woman stepped through the void, covered in a tattered crimson kimono that dragged against the ground like flayed skin. Her face was covered by grey, unkempt hair that reached the ground. McCabe was thankful for that. He straightened as she walked slowly passed, the scratching in his head dissipating as the distance between them increased.

A blue blur hurtled out of the void and crashed into the rock with a resounding thud. It shook itself from the impact and launched itself at McCabe with a simian howl. It was stopped inches away by a massive red hand around its throat. The ape was dragged away by a massive red-skinned Oni, who laughed and dragged the blue ape behind him as he passed. Over his shoulder he carried a massive tetsubo as long as McCabe was tall and just as wide.

“Fascinating.” Queeg breathed, twisting his tight mustache.

A chittering from the void pulled McCabe’s attention from the red-skinned monster and the blue ape still flailing in his grip. Long spider’s legs stabbed into the ground and with it came a true beast. Gliding smoothly from the void with a man’s torso and a spider’s body and face, carrying a polearm and dripping with venom, McCabe recognized the Jorogumo immediately. It stared hungrily at the wastrel now cowering behind the tree but lumbered on, impatient. Curled into a fluff ball on the spider’s thorax, the Kamaitachi perked up as it passed and leapt onto the ground. It chirped happily and curled around McCabe’s legs, the bell around its neck ringing enthusiastically. McCabe kicked it without malice and it growled, retreating back to its resting place on the spider.  

The clickclickclicking of its footsteps receded as it followed the other Oni and the void popped out of existence with a wet hiss. The wastrel came out from behind the tree slowly, much paler than before but regaining composure quickly. Queeg stared at the backs of the newcomers and twirled his mustache, muttering to himself about new ideas.

McCabe cracked his neck to the left and then to the right. “Let’s get this over with.” He whistled for his horse. 



Here's the list for the starting arsenal:

McCabe, Badge of Speed

Master Queeg


Ohaguro Bettari










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