The Autumn Queen flies West

There aren't many opportunities for me to play Malifaux, so whenever one appears, I have developed a very sophisticated decision-making process: I say yes.

A new gaming club recently opened nearby, offering tables for local players, so obviously we had to investigate. When we arrived, the place was already busy with D&D adventurers, Star Wars: Legion armies and the distant thunder of Warhammer 40K. We, however, had brought something different. A box of strange miniatures, several decks of cards, an unreasonable amount of scenery and everything else required to briefly open the Breach in an otherwise perfectly respectable gaming club.

This time I was joined by Aaron and his son, Isaac, neither of whom had played Malifaux before. My first challenge therefore wasn't tactical at all: I had to decide which crew to give them. I eventually settled on the Guard. Dashel Barker, riflemen, mounted officers and an Executioner seemed like the perfect introduction, particularly because I suspected the western law-enforcement  theme would appeal to them. I wasn't wrong.

For myself, I had something rather less civilised planned. Over the previous few weeks I had been painting Titania and her Fae, and although the crew wasn't completely finished (several bases were still awaiting attention) I was far too impatient to leave them at home. The Autumn Queen was finally going to war.

Before any fighting could begin, however, Malifaux demanded its traditional sacrifice: fifteen minutes spent arranging tiny buildings until everyone agreed that the table looked suitably dramatic. Our western saloon took centre stage, joined by the nook and market, while abandoned houses, fences and a broken-down cart filled the surrounding streets. By the time we finished, it looked exactly like the sort of peaceful frontier settlement where absolutely nothing terrible was about to happen. Then Titania arrived.

Because this was primarily a teaching game, I built Aaron a straightforward Guard crew: Dashel Barker, the Dispatcher, an Executioner, a Mounted Guard, a Sergeant and two Riflemen. At around thirty Soulstones, it offered enough variety to demonstrate different mechanics without requiring Aaron to study an organisational chart of the entire Guild before his first activation.

My own crew consisted of Titania, the Erymanthian Boar, Ithanna, a Carnivorous Wyrdwood, a Rougarou and two Bultungin. I had read the cards. I had considered the synergies. I had even formed some vague strategic ideas. This naturally meant I was completely prepared to discover that I had misunderstood half of them.

We kept the encounter deliberately simple. The main goal was to teach duels, positive and negative flips, Cheating Fate, movement and the basics of Malifaux's action economy. We played Plant Explosives as the Strategy but left Schemes out entirely. There would be plenty of time for secret objectives later. For now, learning how to shoot an ancient Fae creature seemed complicated enough.

Deployment immediately revealed our different philosophies. Aaron positioned his Guard conservatively, forming something resembling an actual defensive force. I did the opposite. The Carnivorous Wyrdwood went as far forward as possible, while the Rougarou started near the edge of the battlefield ready to sprint into enemy territory. The Fae apparently considered subtlety optional. Then the battle began.

Dashel started barking orders (yes, I am absolutely taking that pun) while one Rifleman climbed to the first floor of the saloon and established a firing position overlooking the street. Dashel himself advanced towards the centre alongside the Executioner, creating a rather intimidating welcoming committee. I suddenly became considerably more interested in careful positioning. I didn't yet know how durable Titania's crew would be, but I knew perfectly well what happens when Guard models carrying enormous weapons get close enough to demonstrate their job descriptions.

The first turn was therefore mostly a dance for position. There were a few minor clashes, but both crews concentrated on spreading across the town and planting explosives. My more aggressive deployment paid off and I managed to place two explosives in Aaron's half while the Guard planted one in mine. The opening score was 1–0 to the Fae.

For a brief moment, everything was going according to plan. Turn Two corrected that misunderstanding.

The Executioner and Dashel descended upon my Erymanthian Boar and proceeded to transform it from a terrifying mythical beast into what I can only assume became several reasonably priced cuts of meat. Meanwhile, the Riflemen opened fire on Titania herself from across the town, while the Sergeant and Mounted Guard quietly got on with the actual objective and started planting explosives.

My Fae responded with the sort of card flips that make you wonder whether Fate has developed a personal grievance. Attacks failed, opportunities disappeared and the Guard continued advancing. Ithanna, at least, provided one particularly entertaining moment by using Lacerating Roots to lash out at several nearby Guard models at once. There is something very Malifaux-y about watching uniformed enforcers discover that the local vegetation has become actively hostile.

By the end of Turn Two, both crews had three explosives planted, earning us one victory point each. The score was now 2–1, but the battlefield was beginning to tell a rather different story.

By Turn Three, the Guard had apparently decided that it was time to address the fairy infestation directly. Both of my Bultungin were killed, leaving me three models down overall. The Sergeant and Mounted Guard began removing my explosives with the calm efficiency of council workers cleaning up after a particularly supernatural festival, while Dashel, the Executioner and one Rifleman continued applying pressure in the centre.

Titania fought back by spreading Underbrush Markers across the battlefield, trying to divide the Guard and control their movement. At one particularly important moment, the terrain helped prevent the Executioner from reaching Ithanna, which probably saved her from joining the Boar in the rapidly expanding casualty department. The Autumn Queen was finally beginning to reshape the battlefield around her. Unfortunately, the Guard had guns. And numbers. And an Executioner.

By the end of Turn Three, Aaron had managed to plant four explosives on my side of the table while I had only two remaining on his. That earned him the final point and brought the score to 2–2.

We didn't have enough time to play the fourth turn, so that was where our little invasion of Malifaux ended. Officially, it was a draw. Unofficially, considering I was already three models down and the Guard were steadily dismantling my position, I suspect another turn would have ended with Dashel filing a very confident report explaining how law and order had been successfully restored.

But winning wasn't really the point.

Aaron and Isaac got their first taste of Malifaux, learned the core mechanics and seemed to genuinely enjoy commanding the Guard. I finally got Titania onto the table after weeks of painting her crew and began learning how the Fae actually function outside the comforting theoretical world of reading stat cards. We made mistakes, discovered interactions and watched a little story bloom naturally from the game.

An ancient Neverborn Queen emerged from the wilderness, leading beasts and twisted creatures into a dusty frontier settlement. The Fae crept through the streets, strange forests began growing where they had no business growing, and explosives appeared around the town. Then the local brute gathered his men. The rifles came out, the streets filled with gunfire, and Titania discovered that conquering Malifaux is considerably easier when the town doesn't have an Executioner waiting in the middle of it. Will the Queen return? We shall certainly see. One failed invasion is hardly enough to discourage the Autumn Queen, and I strongly suspect her plans for this little frontier town are far from over.

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move.

Custodian Hargrave

The Dead answer the call

The young necromancer had spent weeks searching for power. Around him lay the accumulated knowledge of countless nights: ancient manuscripts, forbidden rituals, carefully annotated notes and several deck boxes in varying states of disassembly. He had studied the methods of mad prophets, considered the teachings of blood sorcerers and even entertained the promises of aristocrats who assured him that everything would be fine as long as everyone respected the proper voting procedure. Each offered power. Each promised that, in the right hands, they could make him a force to be reckoned with. But the young necromancer wanted more than power. He wanted dominance.

There were whispers of a great gathering approaching, where ancient Methuselahs would emerge from their crypts and travel from across the land to test their schemes against one another. Elders would fall. Alliances would be made and immediately reconsidered. Blood pool would disappear in quantities that would make a neonate uncomfortable. Somewhere among them, one Methuselah would eventually stand above the rest. The necromancer knew he was not yet an elder. Perhaps he wasn't even particularly good at necromancy. There was, however, only one reliable way to find out. He closed the final book, extinguished the candles and looked towards the restless dead gathering around him. "Fine," he whispered. "We're going to Nationals."

Yes, dear reader, the decision has finally been made. The VTES UK National Championship is next weekend, and after weeks of indecision, deck building, practice games and repeatedly changing my mind, I finally know what I'm taking.

Hecata.

There were other candidates, of course. My Juliet Parr Malkavians were briefly very tempting: politics, stealth and Dominate sounded wonderful until my practice games demonstrated that sufficiently determined combat decks could turn my political leadership into a collection of torpor cards. Juliet will return, but perhaps somewhere with fewer Assault Rifles.

The Tremere were another possibility. They remain one of my favourite clans and have answers to almost everything, but I simply haven't played them enough recently to feel confident taking them to Nationals. Rebuilding the deck a week before the tournament also sounded like exactly the kind of overconfidence that gets a young apprentice turned into a gargoyle.

Finally, there were my Ventrue Princes, the safe and respectable choice. They already carried me to a final in Bedford, and I know how to pilot them reasonably well. But I've done that story already. Besides, relying on political actions without reliable stealth at a large tournament makes me slightly nervous. The Board considered the proposal and decided not to proceed at this time.

That left the dead.

The more I considered my options, the more I kept returning to the Hecata. I've played the deck enough now that I understand what it's trying to do. Family Gathering helps me develop my crypt surprisingly quickly, while my allies harass opposing vampires, drain their blood and gradually make life (or unlife) increasingly uncomfortable for my prey.

It isn't a particularly explosive deck. It is patient. It is sinister. And it occasionally solves problems by throwing a corpse at them. I like that. More importantly, I've tested the deck in friendly games and at the Scottish Nationals. I've seen what happens when things go well, and I've also experienced those wonderful moments when the carefully assembled undead machinery produces a strange noise, catches fire and requires immediate maintenance. I know the deck can struggle with certain match-ups, I know the allies don't always arrive as quickly as I'd like, and I've learned which parts of the deck I actually enjoy using rather than merely thinking I should use. So I've made some tweaks. The core remains intact and the dead will still be doing most of the heavy lifting, but some ratios have changed and a few cards have found themselves removed from active service. There is, however, one more significant change. The crypt has a new, secret star.

I'm not revealing who it is just yet. Let me keep at least one mystery until Nationals. This particular vampire has been waiting patiently in my collection for an opportunity, and after looking at the deck again, I think the time has finally come to give them a chance. Consider it a probation period. At the UK Nationals. Against some of the best players in the country. No pressure.

So that's it. No more opening deck boxes late at night and suddenly deciding that perhaps this completely different archetype is the answer. The Malkavians can stop whispering, the Tremere can return to the Chantry, and the Ventrue Board has officially adjourned. Do I expect to win? Absolutely not. This will be my first UK Nationals and I'll be sitting across from players with vastly more experience than me. My goals remain the same: play as well as I can, learn something, hopefully collect a few victory points and, above all, enjoy the games.

But I am excited to see what happens. I've spent months building this deck, playing it, finding its weaknesses and gradually turning it into something that feels like my Hecata deck. Now it gets its biggest test yet. Next weekend, the rituals will be prepared, the Family Gatherings will commence, and the dead will leave their crypts for the UK National Championship. Whether they return triumphant or in several small cardboard boxes remains to be seen. Either way, there will be a story. And you can be certain I'll tell you all about it.

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move.

Custodian Hargrave

Your counterargument has an Assault Rifle

With the VTES UK Nationals fast approaching, I travelled to Cambridge on Sunday to meet David and Manuel for some much-needed practice. At this point, I need every game I can get. If I am going to walk into a national tournament, I would at least like to pretend that my deck has been properly tested beforehand. As it turned out, this particular session was extremely useful because it helped me decide the fate of a deck I had been quietly experimenting with for some time.

You see, I love political decks. I enjoyed playing my Ventrue Princes, and Path of Power scratches that same wonderful itch of manipulating the table while pretending everything is happening through perfectly legitimate democratic processes. This time, however, I wanted something different. During previous tournaments I managed to acquire a few copies of Juliet Parr, so naturally I started wondering whether I could build a deck around her. Let the Malkavians enter politics. What could possibly go wrong?

On paper, everything looked beautiful. Titles would give me votes. Obfuscate would provide enough stealth to push political actions through. Dominate offered a fallback plan of good old-fashioned stealth bleed if democracy failed, while also providing Deflections for defence. It looked like a wonderfully flexible package: politics when politics worked, bleeding when politics didn't, and enough stealth to ensure that everyone had to sit there and listen to my proposals. There was just one small problem with the plan. And the lesson was painful.

David arrived with a Ventrue antitribu deck using Group 5 and 6 vampires following the Path of Cathari, while Manuel brought two combat-focused decks featuring Assamites. Since there were only three of us, we agreed on a simple format: the first Methuselah to oust another player would win. We randomised the seating and ended up with David (Ventrue antitribu) > Manuel (Assamites) > Myself (Malkavian vote/bleed).

This game may have been the quickest VTES game I have ever played.

Around turn four, Manuel equipped Antara with an Assault Rifle. This was apparently the moment diplomacy officially ended. Antara rushed David's vampires, then turned her attention towards mine, and within a single turn three vampires had been sent to torpor through additional strikes, presses and the inevitable Freak Drives. It was less a combat turn and more a workplace restructuring where the entire department was escorted from the building. With both his predator and prey thoroughly disabled, Manuel finished me off within another couple of turns. The whole game lasted roughly thirty minutes.

My beautiful political machine had encountered its first policy disagreement, and the disagreement had an Assault Rifle.

Fortunately, being annihilated so efficiently left us with plenty of time for another game. Manuel switched to his other combat deck, this time featuring Al-Ashrad. I had encountered him before and remembered the experience with approximately the same fondness one remembers stepping barefoot on Lego. The seating remained unchanged, although this time Manuel was the first player.

Game two was much more balanced. David brought out Elimelech the Twice-Damned and Coco Thorn, Manuel had Al-Ashrad and Blythe, while my lunatics were represented by Juliet and Andi Liu. David managed to keep the Assamites under pressure this time, which had the pleasant side effect of keeping them away from my vampires. Funny how much better political debate works when nobody is actively punching the politicians.

This finally gave Juliet room to demonstrate why I wanted to build around her in the first place. I managed to push through several political actions, and her ability to give me +2 hand size was fantastic. Those extra cards dramatically increased my options and made the deck feel much smoother. More importantly, I had little difficulty getting my political actions through. Three or four stealth was perfectly achievable, so anyone wanting to interrupt Malkavian democracy had to work for it.

The game remained surprisingly balanced until we approached the endgame. A successful Parity Shift created a net six-pool swing between David and me, giving me some much-needed breathing room. On my following turns, two Kine Resources Contested actions finished the job. After being brutally dismantled in about half an hour during the first game, the Malkavians had somehow returned from lunch and won the second.

Despite the victory, however, these two games revealed something important about the deck. Getting political actions through wasn't the problem. The stealth worked beautifully, Juliet was excellent, and Dominate gave me plenty of forward pressure. The problem was what happened when someone decided that instead of debating my political agenda, they would simply beat up the person proposing it. Against serious rush and combat decks, my Malkavians were falling like flies, and I had very few answers. Apparently "please respect the democratic process" is not a valid combat card.

The second lesson was about table optics. A deck capable of political actions, high bleeds and considerable stealth can very quickly become the problem. Even if you aren't currently winning, everyone can see what the deck might do if left alone. Suddenly your harmless little Malkavian politician is attracting cross-table attention, deals are being made about you rather than with you, and somebody starts casually asking whether anyone has a rush card. Being powerful is useful. Looking powerful can be considerably less so.

Still, that is exactly why I wanted these practice games. The Malkavian experiment was fun and winning the second game showed me that the basic concept absolutely works. Juliet in particular impressed me, and I would happily return to the deck for friendly games and further tinkering. For the UK Nationals, though, I am not convinced. Walking into a large tournament with a deck that practically wears a sign saying "dangerous but surprisingly punchable" feels like a questionable decision.

So one candidate has probably removed itself from consideration. The search continues. And somewhere on my shelf, several other deck boxes have started whispering again.

The game never ends, only pauses. I'll see you at the next move.

Custodian Hargrave