Malifaux Viktorias Crew Hired Swords Box Set Review

April 19, 2022 Post a Comment

Welcome to the fifth Malifaux Faction Focus article! Today, we'll be talking about bandits, mercenaries, madmen, and Tyrants. It'southward fourth dimension to focus on the "none of the above" gang, the Outcasts.

The Lore of the Outcasts

It'southward tough to talk most the lore behind "the Outcasts" because part of what defines the group is its sheer lack of coherence. The Order all fight beneath one imprint, the Arcanists and Neverborn share uneasy alliances of convenience, and even the Rezzers stick together (if only because everyone else hates them). But what makes an Outcast an Outcast is their sheer, bloody-minded individualism. Indeed, at that place's very little reason to imagine that one of Jack Daw's spectral Guilty would ever cull to fight for Von Schill's disciplined Freikorps.

Yet, the lot of them take some things in common. For a long fourth dimension, Outcast was but a catchall characterization for those inhabitants of Malifaux who didn't merits whatsoever allegiance in the bang-up struggle for power and Soulstone. Many of them were mercenaries, willing to fight for whoever paid them. Others were but then darn weird that they were driven to the fringes. They eked out a living on their own, occasionally working together out of agony (if goose egg else), simply recent events have forced them to at to the lowest degree try some unity.

1 of the virtually notorious Outcasts is the mercenary leader Leopold von Schill. The Freikorps, von Schill's mercenary band, sold their swords (and guns, and flamethrowers…) to anyone who could pay. Von Schill got rich, and all manner of wealthy people had their issues handled in a discreet and professional way.

This happy organisation ended before long after the Burning Homo went up like a torch. The new Governor-General, Franco Marlow, took a dim view of the existence of a mercenary regular army that rivaled the Order. He offered to bring von Schill and his men on lath, just when the Freikorps commander refused, Marlow outlawed mercenary work with a stroke of his pen. The Freikorps, having lost their livelihood overnight, decamped from Malifaux Urban center. Von Schill had long dreamed of a identify where men and women could stand up free from Guild tyranny, and Marlow's decree was the kick in the ass he needed. He took his men out into the Badlands to the site of the abandoned prospecting town Hope. At that place, he founded Freiholt– the first new urban center on Malifaux to be totally contained of the Guild.

von Schill meets the Governor-General. Credit: Wyrd Games

Freiholt has attracted all manner of shady characters, and now hardened mercenaries rub elbows with rat cultists, train robbers and the occasional Gremlin pirate. Information technology's a dangerous place, isolated and occasionally under siege, but it's a wealthy 1, too. Everyone looking to rent troubleshooters exterior of the watchful eye of the Guild knows where to get. Others have followed the Freikorps, setting up shop in a place where at that place aren't as well many questions and jobs all come with a "no questions asked" passenger.

Some Outcasts aren't in it for the money, though. At that place are all manner of secrets in Malifaux, traps from the aboriginal by that can snare the unwary. Sometimes people hear the Whisper and commencement skulking effectually hush-hush stealing corpses. Sometimes the vox in their head is a bit more subtle.

The Tyrants have long groaned nether their slabs. The spiritual and metaphysical wards that restrain their essence fade with time. Their bindings loose, they seep into the globe like radiation or toxic gas. Ii of them have worked gratis the mortar around their cells through centuries of patient attempt and at present walk, disguised, among the living. Plague and Obliteration, those ancient wizard-gods, have both chosen their pawns and even now move them across the world similar a swell chessboard. The gifts of the Tyrants set their chosen ones apart, peeling them away from the human herd. These nightmare-touched godlings are Outcasts, too, and accept their ain designs on Freiholt. Plague recently attacked the settlement, and only with the assist of Obliteration was He turned back. Time will tell what the freed Tyrants will demand of the Outcasts, and whether whatsoever of the mercenaries and sellswords accept the will to deny them.

Why Should I Play Outcasts?

Many miniature wargames have a "mercenary" faction– Dogs of War, Warmahordes'southward Mercs and Minions, then on. The Outcasts got their start at that place, though Second Edition firmed them up into their own thing. With the dawn of Third Edition, the solar day of the mercenary is over– Outcasts are a faction like whatever other. They still have vestiges of those early days, though. Remember how I said Arcanists were diverse? That'saught compared to the Outcasts. Literally anything you lot can imagine could show up in the Outcasts. Some crews are fully human; others are utterly monstrous. And some are a mix of both.

That diversity shows upwards in playstyle, too. Malifaux has long been famous for the sheerweirdness that shows up on the tabletop. Even with its rules simplified and standardized, ane thing that sets the system apart is how much emergent complexity can arise out of a relatively simple ruleset. The Outcast crews exemplify this: many of them play completely differently from any other army in this (or whatsoever other) game. They can easily catch enemies by surprise, though they take a rather steep learning curve. And then once more, Outcasts also have two of the most forgiving, beginner-friendly crews in the game.

Since we're all out of Malifaux suits, Outcasts' symbol is the rose, due to their analogousness for Seal's 1994 hit "Kiss From a Rose."

Play Outcasts if:

What drew you to Malifaux is the legendary weirdness and complexity of its play patterns. A lot of the cruftiest, strangest rules have gone by the wayside since first edition, only the ones that remain are full-bodied in Outcasts.
You want a broad diverseness of options. Equally perhaps befits the "catchall" faction, Outcasts have a huge range of models, both mechanically and aesthetically. You'll end upwards sampling a lilliputian flake of all of Malifaux's archetypes: steampunk, weird western, horror, wuxia mashup…
Y'all like to be the scrappy underdog. Insofar equally the Outcasts have a unifying theme, it'southward "rah rah fight the ability!" Of course, you won't be an underdog mechanically– Outcasts are avery competitive faction with a loftier ratio of extremely powerful Masters.

Masters

I'll cover vii of the Outcasts here, with one more in a afterward article.

Leopold von Schill

The Big Guy himself, the Man With the Moustache, von Schill came to Malifaux soon afterwards the reopening of the breach. Like anybody else who flocked to the new world, he had one idea in his heed: time to get $$$paid$$$. Von Schill was a soldier Earthside, and afterward he mustered out he turned to mercenary piece of work. Malifaux presented the perfect opportunity for a man of his skillset, but for ane detail: von Schill and Governor-General Kitchener hated each other from their commencement meeting.

A career with the Guild was a nonstarter, but there were plenty of opportunities for a licensed merc, especially one with the skills to train his ownFreikorps. Within a short time, von Schill'due south company became a byword for professional person excellence in Malifaux. When someone needed non but thugs or muscles onlysoldiers, drilled and trained, they went to the Freikorps, and the Korps and their founder before long became rich indeed. Of course, mercenary work is unsafe, and Malifaux mercenary work more dangerous yet. Von Schill was present at Nythera when Titania awakened, having been hired to scissure open the vault to go whatever treasure was inside (turns out information technology was an aboriginal undead queen), and he lost an arm and a leg to Rasputina's frost. He's got some new mechanical parts, though, and he's dorsum on the warpath. Right now his biggest priority is getting Freiholt upward and running, which would exist difficult enough evenwithout supernatural plagues and mercenary politics. But such is life in the Freikorps.

On the table, von Schill'due south crew is the epitome of a solid all-rounder. Freikorps members are all well-armed and armored, and the crew has a residue of melee punch, ranged back up and magical adequacy. They also make heavy use of equipment, from grenades to rocket launchers, that von Schill can pass around from inside his Steam Trunk. Freikorps are straightforward but powerful– I wouldn't say they're the "Space Marines of Malifaux," just ifsomeone has to take that title, it'southward this bunch.

Play von Schill if:

You lot like being a little bit practiced at everything, with a preference for range over melee
You're one of those historical gamers whose eyes let up when people talk about Germans (please no)
You feel naked if your troops don't accept at least some armor

The Viktorias

Earthside, Viktoria Chambers was ane of the all-timeMercenaries alive. This side of the breach, she'due south2of them.

Viktoria crossed the alienation in the early on days, looking to sell her sword and earn her fortune in the brave new world. Of course, she had rather more than sword to sell than most. Viktoria was a skilled fighter, simply what set her autonomously was the Masamune Nihonto: an expertly forged blade, folded 999 times by a master swordsmith etc. etc. etc. You know, standard weeb stuff. But unlike literally every other time someone has made this claim,this Hanzo steel really matters. Unbeknownst to Viktoria (and pretty much every other human, onlyvery muchknownst to some of the oldest Neverborn), the sword contains the restrained essence of the Tyrant Shez'uul, a (literally) bloodthirsty entity that managed to cross over to Earth thousands of years agone. It'south trapped in the sword, but the Nihonto hasenormousspiritual authorization. Neverborn agents lured Viktoria to Malifaux in an attempt to reclaim the relic and re-imprison Shez'uul.

Thatwas the plan. And it virtually worked, too. They sent a shapeshifter to kill Viktoria and accept it, but the swordswoman'southward cut severed the spiritual ties that enslaved the creature and fix it free. Nobody knows what passed between the two of them, but they emerged from that fight as sisters: twins, in fact, as the other-Viktoria kept her stolen shape. The two have been inseparable ever since, their bond in gainsay making them well-nigh unstoppable. They've surrounded themselves with a gang of fellow mercs, all of whom respect the women and fright the sword– even if they don't fully understand why.

The Viks (equally they're called) are unique in i obvious way: in that location'due south 2 of them! Hiring ane to atomic number 82 your coiffure gives you the second for free. Of course, they don't get a Totem, just having two Masters is definitely a trade upwards. The crew'south playstyle epitomizes the term "glass cannon." Each Vik is fairly fragile, but they're admittedly whirlwinds of destruction, and the ability to activate them back-to-back lets yous put out truly horrific amounts of impairment.

Play the Viktorias if:

Y'all call back the Kill Bill movies are Tarantino'south all-time
You lot realllllly like killing things and don't so much intendance what happens afterwards
You lot like alternate sculpts. In that location are probably more alt Viktorias than any other chief in the game (and that'southward non fifty-fifty counting the fact that each set has two models)

Leveticus

Is Leveticus human? Technically, probably yes. Is he evil? By any normal definition, you'd have to say so. Is he immortal? That's a tough ane: yesand no is most the all-time answer you're gonna become. Is he a complete creep? Sadly, the respond to that 1 is a resounding "aye."

The proprietor of Captivating Salve and Logistics, Leveticusappears to exist a fairly eccentric old man. Appearances are deceiving; he'due south one of the nearly powerful mages in Malifaux, and one of the most tangled in the skein of Fate. Leveticus has bent his life to conquering expiry, and has managed it, after a mode. He has mastered the art of rendering unlucky humans into soulless Hollow Waifs, and when he dies, these Waifs serve every bit spiritual anchors allowing him to resurrect. And Leveticus dies alot. That's a side consequence of channeling the stiff entropic magic he specializes in: it gives him incredible destructive power, but that devastation is sort of two-way.

When he'south not dying and returning to life, Leveticus likes to delve into the secrets of Old Malifaux– specifically, the art of amalgamating flesh and steel. TheseAmalgams are ofttimes horrific blends of dead mankind and rusty metal, or constructs like the sentient storm Ashes and Dust. Beyond these monstrosities, Leveticus is served by his scavengers and his faithful sidekick Rusty Alyce, so named for her habit of talking to her robotic arm. Alyce is a little cuckoo, but she keeps the old homo focused… fifty-fifty if sometimes he'south a little too focused onher.Yes, it's weird and creepy and mostly played for laughs in the lore, only I just try not to think nearly it too much.

Leveticus famously had one of the strangest playstyles in Kickoff and 2nd Edition; you by and large tried to become him killed every unmarried plough, whereupon he'd return, unhurt and hearty, from one of his Waifs. These days the Waifs are more than "emergency extra lives" than "core office of a resurrection-based gameplay loop," but Leveticus is however very hard to put down for good. He and his coiffure can practise a lot of Irreducible damage (the game's equivalent of Mortal Wounds) and can resummon destroyed models… entropy gets anybody in the end, just those who serve information technology sometimes go to go effectually the carousel 1 more time.

Play Leveticus if:

Death is but a door, and fourth dimension is but a window… you lot'll exist back
You don't heed hurting yourself to makesure your opponent dies
Y'all like the weird, gribbly fleshmetal monsters, only Von Schtook isn't your mode

Hamelin

Hamelin wasn't a very nice man. He was technically a rat catcher, simply it would exist more than accurate to call him a slap-up and a thief and an occasional murderer (when he could become away with it). And so he took shelter from a tempest in the sewers nether Malifaux Metropolis, and was done into an ancient part of the buried Necropolis, and, well, he died.

Something walks the earth wearing Hamelin's skin, but it's not Hamelin. No, it's the virtually active and aggressive of the reawakened tyrants:Plague has emerged from his prison, spreading his sentient affliction. Hamelin's fingers dance across Hamelin's pipage, but Plague'southward tune burrows into the ears of Malifaux's wretched and forlorn. They follow the Piper, a crowd of Stolen, their sore-pocked skin glistening with feverish vitality. In their wake come the rats: an countless swarm of them, yellow-eyed and jagged-toothed, piling on one another in their haste to devour and befoul.

Plague has tried to ascend multiple times, and has gotten frighteningly close; the first time, Kirai stopped him, while more recently his endeavor to conquer Freiholt was blocked past Obliteration'south pawn Tara. All the same, Plague remains patient. His influence spreads, and with each new coughing victim, his ground forces gets larger…

Hamelin'south crew focuses on handing out Blight Tokens, representing the spread of Plague's disease. They don't exercise anything on their own, but the more of them you have, the more than vulnerable you are to Plague's ability. Along with the Blight comes a tide of Malifaux Rats– individually the weakest models in the game, but you tin can take alot of them, and you can summon a basically countless supply. And in numbers, even little Rats can do a lot of damage…

Play Hamelin if:

You lot worship at the altar of the Great Horned Rat. Or peradventure Granddad Nurgle, I'd say both gods accept an in hither.
Y'all prefer swarm tactics. It'southward not plenty to outnumber your opponent– you take to bury them in bodies
You like to elevate out your victories. Make 'em terminal, make 'em suffer.

Tara

Tara had a rough life from babyhood. Life's non like shooting fish in a barrel for an orphan, and it's even harder in Malifaux. Her circumstances hardened her, turning her into a killer, and she became a feared gunslinger and Neverborn hunter. She was a hard woman, hollow inside, without compunction or mercy. Possibly that'due south why she fell into the prison house ofObliteration— maybe she fell into a trap that had been set to snare those who idea like her.

Obliteration had once been one of the Tyrants, a terrible forcefulness of destruction, and later the Tyrant War It was imprisoned in an extradimensional infinite. Its prison was Its body; it could not destroy Its cage without destroying Itself. Others had institute their style into that pocket dimension over time, almost of them quickly driven mad, but non Tara. She struck a deal with the entity and Information technology vomited her dorsum out into the world, forth with a adult female named Karina who had been trapped into the timeless void for what (subjectively) felt like alot longer.

Tara is Obliteration'due south pawn, spreading Its destructive nihilism beyond the face of Malifaux. During one pitched boxing, a sniper shot her dead, but thanks to Karina'southward quick necromantic work she walks again– a self-willed, autonomous undead, retaining her connection to Obliteration. Since then, Tara has quietly congenital Obliteration's ability, using Its control over time and space to telephone call forth entities of pure nonexistence from Its prison house and sending Its enemies to the void.

Any meter of playstyle complexity you lot intendance to go on, Tara sits at the farthermost end of it. Obliteration has granted her mastery over fourth dimension, and she tin can slow downwards enemies– or speed them upward, so siphon off the free energy generated that way to power her minions. She tin summon Void Wretches and Hunters, creatures fabricated from fragments of Obliteration's prison, but they don't show up on the lath at once– you have to create eddies and whorls in fourth dimension from which they can emerge. She makes tremendous use of the "coffin" mechanic, whereby a model is temporarily taken off the table every bit it blinks out of existence.

Play Tara if:

Five-dimensional chess has become dull and lost its spark for you
You dearest the Cloverfield monster'due south weird lilliputian tick things. They're cute, aren't they?
You hate painting– information technology's ok, half your crew doesn't actually sit down on the tabular array at whatsoever given time.

Parker Barrows

In contrast to the gods and monsters we've been reading nearly, Parker'due south a refreshingly straightforward guy. His older brother took his inheritance? Pah, Parker don't need it. He but needs a couple of six-guns and a train to rob. At the caput of the Barrows Gang, the about feared group ofBandits this side of the Breach, Parker takes aim at the Guild, the Wedlock, and whatever bank teller is unfortunate enough to be on duty the day he rolls into boondocks. He doesn't peculiarly love killing people, but he'll practice it if he has to, especially if they're shooting at him. People always take law-breaking, fifty-fifty when he asks for their valuablespolitely.

Parker'south gang is accompanied past Physician Mitchell, an alcoholic doctor and hostage whose job is mostly to stitch up whatever wounds aren't immediately fatal, and Mad Domestic dog Brackett, whose job is mostly to put out lit cigars in people's eyes and then smash them through the wall with a giant shotgun. Parker'southward an low-key guy, and he's made friends with Zipp, a Gremlin pirate chief. There's solidarity, out in the badlands. Parker may be a robber, but he's no murderer, and the Gang wait out for each other. Of course, following Zipp'south plans is more than a piddling foolish… specially when the little green fellow talks about wanting to steal the Hanging Tree…

Parker plays exactly how you'd expect a classic Wild Westward bandit to play. He and his men (and women) are armed to the teeth, and surprisingly mobile– unlike virtually Malifaux models, they can brand ranged attacks as function of a accuse movement (as opposed to melee attacks) then they can continue shooting on the move. Many of their attacks force enemies to drop their own scheme markers, usually something you lotdon't want to happen, just Parker and co tin can scoop these markers upwards to draw cards or utilize them to trigger other powerful effects, representing them making off with their victims' valuables.

Play Parker Barrows if:

You lot're coming from 40k and want a familiar experience– I'd say, of all the Malifaux masters, Parker'due south crew plays the most like a 40k army
What drew you to Malifaux was the Wild West aesthetic
You can do a expressionless-on "Reach for the sky!" from Toy Story. Or at least "There's a snake in my boot!"

Jack Daw

Speaking of the Hanging Tree…

Jack Daw is the first affair a lot of people run across what they first come through the Breach into Malifaux. When the Breach reopened, he was there, hanging from the massive Hanging Tree with a purse over his head. He was human, once, or at least he looks that way. Maybe he dates back to time of the commencement Alienation. Maybe he's a lot older than that.

Jack doesn't stay on his tree, though. He has been known to wander, seeking out acts of treason and betrayal and punishing the guilty. And the innocent. Punishing anyone, really; the mere presence of betrayal seems to trigger a sense of rage in Jack that tin only exist quenched with alot of bloodshed. Worse, he'due south followed in his wanderings with a cavalcade ofTormented souls: specters of guilt and punishment, the betrayers and the betrayed, all post-obit Jack and inflicting their suffering on anyone who stands in their way. They take powerful, ancient magics on their side, magics that draw out their victims' guilt and turn it into a weapon, curses that force their enemies to relive the final moments of a condemned murderer or the last moments of his victims. Jack himself never speaks, never explains, and is never predictable; he'll appear one moment, raise havoc, and disappear the next, leaving a few cowering survivors.

Jack Daw, as a spirit followed past vengeful ghosts, is dual faction Outcast/Resurrectionist, though he doesn't really play nicely with others (and information technology'south hard to imagine why you can hire his ghoulish gang into, say, Parker or von Schill's crew). He is uniquely hard to impale, able to discard cards to plowwhatsoever successful set on into a mere one damage. He and his crew can inflict terrible Curses on enemies, debuffs that persist forever (or until the enemy willingly suffers a penance to remove them), and if he catches you in his noose, he'll throttle the life out of you.

Play Jack Daw if:

You lot really like to watch your enemy squirm rather than just going for the kill
You lot can rails a lot of different things at once– the crew has someweird mechanical interactions
You desire a primary who's next to impossible to kill, but justpossible enough that people will try

As has become traditional, nosotros will shut with a review of an Outcast Nightmare Edition box set. In this one, Hamelin trades his pipes for a cup of tea and his rats for, well…

caitlin abernathy'due south apartment smells exactly like you imagine it does. credit: Studio Jolly Roger

That'south all for this calendar week, and we're more than half washed! Join united states next week as we begin the home stretch with the rootinest, tootinest, shootinest, moonshine-drinkenest pack of yokels this side of 10 Peaks, the Bayou!

Take any questions or feedback? Drop the states a note in the comments below or email usa atcontact@goonhammer.com.