Paint Desk – Dead Doxies

You Get What you Pay For

By Craig (@The_Hofzinser on Twitter)

“Roller throws boxcars,” shouts the dealer who immediately begins collecting the chips and dice from the craps table.

Earl couldn’t move.  Just two hours ago he had more scrip than he could earn in a month of working the mine.  Three words later and it was gone.  All.  Gone.  He stood still thinking maybe someone made a mistake and if he didn’t move they would realize it.  The two doxies that were hanging on his arm for the last hour and laughing at all his jokes left as the dealer scooped his chips.  Earl had the whole night planned.  One more win, cash in and take the two ladies upstairs.  He’d never rented a room at the Honeypot.

The table erupted in excitement as a new roller started the game again.  Nobody noticed as Earl walked away.  Walking past the cashier with no chips in his pocket, he stepped outside where the reality of the evening hit him like the night air.

There are times when a man’s needs exceed his means.  As he walked back towards the outskirts where he setup camp he looked down one of the cross streets and noticed two ladies under one of the gaslights.  He could wait a month.  He’d get paid and the Honeypot always sent ladies to the mine saloon.  The pay-day girls were always road hard.  He really had his mind set on some city ladies.  As he rationalized away the temptation he noticed he’d still hadn’t started walking again.  He was still standing transfixed on the ladies under the light a block away.

Earl had his mind made up.  He’d head back to camp, lick his wounds and sleep off the rough night.  Why was he frozen on the street corner?  By now the ladies noticed Earl and seem unfazed by his creepy stare.  The one in blue waved her hand motioning Earl to come close.

“I’m going to head home, sleep this off and never make this mistake again,” were the words running in his mind as he walked towards the dames.  Now he was focused on the disconnect between his thoughts and actions.  He continued to shuffle towards the doxy in blue.  She seemed to be the prettier gal but it was hard to tell in this light.  He was only a few paces away from them when they slipped around the corner.  What was that smell?  Perfume and something – something else.  He turned the corner.  There was no light on this street but he finally could see their faces.  The sight immediately allowed him to identify the smell.  Rotten meat.  Dead flesh.

The next morning Davis heard a knock at the door.  “Come in”, he bellowed as he looked over the updated quota for this month.  “I’m never going to hit this with these lazy bums and that damn union.”

The guard sergeant entered Davis’ office.  “You the sup at this mine?”  Davis nodded.  “We got one of your guys outside.  Found him this morning at the edge of town.

“Is he still drunk?” Davis was thankful he didn’t have to post bail.

“He’s in bags.  Three of them.  You need to talk to your boys about the parts of town to avoid after dark or we’ll start charging you for packaging and delivery.”

Great.  Another man down.  He’ll never hit quota.  Not this month.

Paint Desk – Copycat Killer for Malifaux

One model closer towards finishing the Shadows of Red Chapel crew box.  Copycat killer is the totem for Seamus.  A challenging model (so tiny) but a sculpt that is loaded with character.  Below is a fluff piece and some pictures.  Do you ever run Seamus without Copycat?

End of the Hunt by Craig

Five months came down to tonight. Clarence suspected the dapper Sebastian Baker. He watched him during the day and into the night. It was all making sense. In the few hours he would lose track of Baker another woman was dead. The other investigators were confident that it was the Red Chapel Killer, Seamus, that was killing showgirls and prostitutes. Clarence was now confident who Seamus was.

He watched Baker step out of the theater. The Guild investigator checked his watch. The show wasn’t going to end for another twenty minutes. Perhaps Baker had an urgent appointment?

Baker strolled down the street. Clarence kept twenty or thirty yards between him and the killer. Cautious but in full stalk. He wasn’t going to lose track of Baker tonight. Tonight Baker would make Clarence’s career. The man that brought the Chapel Killer to justice! The man who made Malifaux safe! He was reading tomorrow’s headlines in his head as he carefully shadowed Baker.

His prey stopped, took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around. This part of downtown didn’t have the theater and saloon lights to keep the shadows away. Baker put his ridiculous hat back on and slipped down an ally that Clarence didn’t see at first while the few gas lights casted odd shadows.

He didn’t have time to run around around the building if the ally opened on the other side. He had to keep following. He reached the edge of the ally and listened without peering around into the darkness.

Was that bastard whistling?

“Well, my dear, I am afraid your story ends here.”

Clarence heard the words clearly. This was it. He would save the girl. Save the town. It was happening. He drew his pistol and carefully turned down the ally. It was not open at the other end. The two lights from the apartment windows above bounced just enough light to make out shapes.

He didn’t need more light. He could see the animal’s silly hat. He had his back to Clarence. The poor lady must be on the other side of him. He squinted trying to figure out of Baker was facing him or if he had his back to him as he spoke to the girl.

“Put down the gun, Clarence.” He stopped. His feet suddenly fused to the dirt and gravel. He kept his gun up and ready as Baker turned towards him. He was not afraid. Even hearing Baker call him by name wasn’t enough to block him from his destiny.

“I know who you are, Baker.” Clarence tried to sound confident as if he had the entire Guild behind him. He still couldn’t make him out but the angle of his hat meant he had turned to face him.

All attention was forward. All fear was buried as he leaned on his training. “Don’t jerk the trigger,” he thought as he began to squeeze it back.

“BWAHAHAHA,” the target laughed and jumped down off the trash can. As Clarence’s mind tried to reconcile what he saw and what he believed the hand came from behind to snap his chin up so the knife could slide and open his throat. Clarence went black before he could process how Seamus shrank in front of him.

“I think killing Guildies is almost more fun, boss,” said the little man as he slapped the top of the can he jumped off of.

Seamus grinned and put the blade back into the inside pocket of his long jacket, “My friend, that just means its been too long since we’ve saved a pretty lass. Let’s fix that tonight.” He let Clarence flop face-forward away from him.

They walked back out of the ally together. In the poor light they looked like a father and son sharing a stroll. “No, my loyal little friend, this does not prove you look like me. It only proves that Guildies are either stupid or have very bad sight.”

Battle Report – GG18 Beta – Guild vs Arcanist

InvokeChaos here with a quick battle report on my first GG2018 game since the beta began. Work has kept me stymied, but no longer. I will be giving a detailed breakdown on my thoughts and perceptions after each block of information, but hidden so you don’t have to read it unless you want to. Let’s jump in.

Guild for me, Arcanists for my opponent. First time either of us are playing these masters and it was effectively my first time playing as Guild.

Strat – Public Execution
Schemes – Covert Breakthrough, Undercover Entourage, Dig Their Graves, Take One for the Team, Guarded Treasure

Guild – Guarded Treasure/Take One for the Team(Thalarian Queller)
Arcanists – Undercover Entourage(Ironsides)/Take One for the Team(Johan)

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