Cardinals, Cold Wars and questionable budgeting

Ever since I bought the Path of Power Sabbat decks, they've been staring at me from the shelf like a pair of very judgmental bishops. "Upgrade us," they whisper. "We were not meant to remain precons." As always, I went to VDB in search of wisdom. I found a few winning decks, admired them from a respectful distance, and immediately noticed a problem: Aaradhya. She is everywhere. Four copies. Sometimes five. Tournament winners treat her like oxygen. I, on the other hand, own… two. Two dignified, slightly lonely copies. And while I do enjoy cardboard, I couldn't justify buying additional decks just to secure one more Callous Tyrant. I am secretly hoping the upcoming Sabbat New Blood decks smuggle in another Aaradhya so I can expand my cardinal empire without needing to sell a kidney (or soul). She is absurdly good. A Sabbat cardinal gives you three votes, which is already delicious. But Aaradhya's ability to untap after a successful political action? That's just rude. It doesn't even matter whether you had the votes at the end, if the action resolves successfully, she stands up again like, "Oh, we're not done sweetheart."

While browsing VDB (as one does at unreasonable hours), I noticed another recurring name: Dark Selina from Group 5. My neonate brain tingled. +1 stealth on political actions and a cardinal? That's not a vampire, that's a legislative weapon. And why do I love that hair? What is wrong with me? Anyways, this discovery led me to try print-on-demand for the first time. I marched into Gamepod's website like a determined Lasombra and ordered copies of the 2019 Anthology decks. Now I own two Dark Selinas and two Aaradhyas. My cardinal collection is slowly forming into something that looks less like "hopeful experiment" and more like "structured ambition."

The Anthology decks also came with a delightful pile of other cards. Some of them I recognize.
Ashur Tablets: apparently important. I now own six, which makes me feel powerful even though I'm not entirely sure what ritual I'm supposed to perform with them.
Heart of Nizchetus: excellent for cycling and filtering, like emotional support for your draw phase.
Carlton Van Wyk: shows up in many decks, so I assume he’s either extremely useful or extremely good at surviving.

The rest? Especially the crypt cards? They currently sit in my binder looking mysterious and slightly smug. I'm sure one day I'll build something around them. For now, they serve an equally important function: being admired and occasionally shown to friends like, "Look, shiny vampires! No, I don't know what they do yet."

So What's Next for Path of Power?

Here's what my current crypt draft looks like:

2x Aaradhya, The Callous Tyrant
2x Dark Selina
2x Věnceslava, The Implacable
2x Üresség
1x Damian
1x Rexton “Savage” Abernathy
1x Khin Aye
1x Concordia

It's shaping up nicely. Enough cardinals to make the table uncomfortable, enough presence to matter.

Library-wise, I'm leaning heavily into politics. Cold War, Banishment and the ever-reliable Kine Resources Contested feel mandatory. With Dominate in the crypt, Govern is practically automatic. Action modifiers are still a blur, I'll need test games to figure out the right balance, but there is one certainty in this world: Unthinkable Humiliation is going in the deck. A card with that name simply demands inclusion. It feels less like a card choice and more like a life philosophy.

The weak spot, as always, is the master module. I still lack some of the staple cards everyone else seems to casually own in triplicate. But that's fine. Every Tremere apprentice starts with borrowed tomes and big ambitions. Every Ventrue neonate starts without a domain.

I am patient.

And somewhere in those shadows, the Path of Power is waiting to become something properly terrifying. 

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

Custodian Hargrave

Explosives, paperwork and academic murder

Malifaux has been whispering to me for months.

Unfortunately, life (mundane, daylight, alarm-clock life) kept interfering. The friend who first pulled me through the Breach lives many hours away, which means our battles are rare and carefully planned like secret rituals. My local friend has also been busy, which left my crews gathering dust and giving me accusatory stares from the shelf.

So when James from the local club casually mentioned he might be getting a Malifaux crew, I felt two things at once: excitement… and responsibility. Because when someone steps through the Breach for the first time, you want their first experience to be magical, mysterious and just dangerous enough to make them want more. We need fresh souls in this hobby after all.

We scheduled a game to coincide with the long-awaited faction card release. And then, in true Malifaux fashion, the release was delayed. Again. I had preordered the Guild and Neverborn faction packs back in November, when January seemed certain. Since then, that date has moved more times than a Gremlin with sticky fingers.

With no physical cards in hand, I relied on the official app to track my crew. In hindsight, I should have printed the cards. Using the app felt a bit like trying to conduct a duel while reading the rulebook on your phone mid-swing. Functional, but not elegant. Lessons were learned.

On the day of the game, I arrived early at the club to prepare the battlefield. I laid out my western-themed terrain (the only set I currently own) wooden buildings, dusty streets and the gallows casting long shadows. In my mind, it was no longer MDF and paint, it was a frontier town on the edge of something unnatural.

Choosing a crew was its own dilemma.

My first instinct was to bring Dashel and the Guards. They've been my reliable enforcers for years. In third edition they were my pride and joy, and in fourth they've lost none of their bite. But that was precisely the problem. Bringing a crew I know inside and out against someone playing their first game felt… unfair.

Instead, I chose Lucius and the Elite.

Lucius, the silver-tongued schemer, master manipulator, surrounded by lawyers, investigators and professional liars. I adore the theme of this keyword. They don't just fight, they rearrange reality with paperwork and polite authority. I haven't played them much, so this was the perfect opportunity for them to leave the shelves.

James brought Transmortis, led by Von Schtook: the professor of unpleasant subjects, accompanied by his academic horrors. I had no idea how the crew worked. I didn't even read up on them. In Malifaux, ignorance is often the first step toward enlightenment or dismemberment.

Since this was James' first game, we opted for 30 soulstones instead of the usual 50. Fewer models. Fewer abilities. Slightly less cognitive chaos.

We flipped for strategy and deployment: Informants with Corner Deployment. James was the defender. I was the attacker.

Our schemes were Detonate Charges, Frame Job and Grave Robbing. I secretly chose Detonate Charges. Because if you're going to introduce someone to Malifaux, you might as well start with explosives.

The first turn was already thick with tension.

 

Lucius advanced toward the center like a man who owns the place, quietly directing Agent 44 and an Investigator to flank the enemy from opposite sides. Von Schtook and Anna Lovelace pushed up the middle, while Students drifted toward my flank like eager interns looking for credit.

Lucius used his authority to reposition enemies away from key areas, because why fight when you can simply tell people to stand somewhere less useful? A False Witness secured one Strategy Marker. A Guild Lawyer climbed onto the gallows to claim another. (There's something poetic about a lawyer on the gallows in Malifaux.)

The professor secured the marker closest to his deployment zone but couldn't quite lock down a second. End of turn: I scored the first point. I also managed to complete Detonate Charges, while James positioned carefully for turn two.

So far, so good. The town still stood.

Turn two escalated quickly.

An Undergraduate "finished his studies" and was upgraded into a Student of Viscera, killing a False Witness in the process. Apparently, graduation in Transmortis involves murder. Efficient curriculum. Agent 44 leapt into the fray, whispering blades doing what whispering blades do best, removing inconvenient people. My Guild Lawyer was challenged on the gallows and nearly paid the ultimate fee for his services.

I lost control of one Strategy Marker, but held onto two, securing another victory point. The board was shifting. The dust was settling in strange patterns.

Turn three became a whirlwind of ability exploration. We were checking triggers, reading cards, discovering interactions. It dawned on me that perhaps running a full strategy-and-schemes game for someone's very first Malifaux match might be ambitious, but James handled it remarkably well. The cognitive load was heavy, yet he stayed composed, asked smart questions, and adapted quickly. Transmortis proved dangerous, once Agent 44 was identified as a threat, he was removed with academic precision. The Undergraduates, with their upgrade flexibility, gave Von Schtook a toolkit for almost any situation.

Unfortunately, time ran out before we could begin turn four. The battle ended unfinished, but satisfying nonetheless.

My first impression of Transmortis? They hit hard, and they scale intelligently. Von Schtook doesn't just teach anatomy, he demonstrates it. More importantly, James played extremely well for a first game. Whether that's credit to him, to the elegance of fourth edition design or both, I'm not sure, but it was impressive.

Malifaux is strange, layered, and occasionally overwhelming. But when it works, it feels like stepping into a gothic western novel where every decision matters and every model has a secret.

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

Custodian Hargrave

Why not both? Punching and politics with Lasombra

I'm still not entirely sure which archetype I love the most. On some nights, I'm all about political decks: making grand speeches, pulling strings, passing laws that somehow only hurt everyone else and generally acting like the aristocrat at the table who absolutely deserves to win. I've played political decks with Ventrue and Toreador and I enjoy both. If Ventrue had something like Grand Ball, I'd probably never look back. Sadly, without a reliable way to crank up stealth, my blue bloods tend to get stopped at the door, asked for credentials and politely punched into torpor.

Then there are rush decks, which I also enjoy for entirely different reasons. There's something deeply satisfying about pointing at another vampire and saying, "You. Outside. Now." Rush decks go toe to toe with the table, beating vampires down until they're out of blood. My problem with them is practical: once you've removed all your prey's blockers, you often just… stand there. Menacingly. Punching people is fun, but it doesn't automatically win games. At some point, someone still needs to bleed.

That's when the pieces finally aligned. A clan that rules the table not just with words but with bruises.
Lasombra stepped out of the shadows. 

Before getting into mechanics, let's talk theme. Lasombra are cool in that "corporate takeover at midnight" kind of way. They don't just rule from thrones, they rule from boardrooms, shadows and places you didn't even realize were important. If Ventrue are the CEOs giving interviews, Lasombra are the ones quietly buying the company while you're still reading the press release. Their whole thing (control through darkness, intimidation and selective violence) fits perfectly with both politics and combat. They don't ask for permission, they don't explain themselves and when the lights go out, you suddenly realize you should have agreed with them earlier.

 

How to Rush with Lasombra?

Lasombra rush is as direct as it can be. The bread and butter is Umbrous Clutch, which lets you pick a minion and say, "We're fighting now." No small talk. No pleasantries. And then there's Dafina, who can do this without even needing a card. That's not a vampire but rather a standing appointment for violence.

Combat-wise, Lasombra are stacked. Potence gives them access to classics like Immortal Grapple, Torn Signpost and Roundhouse, the holy trinity of "this is going to hurt." After the fight, Taste of Vitae acts like the instant recovery snack of VTES: quick, effective, sweet.

Then there's Oblivion, which adds even more spice. Arms of Ahriman is particularly nasty, letting you either throw out an extra strike or dodge and still hit back. It's like having both a shield and a crowbar in the same hand. Blocking Lasombra actions is always risky, because the resulting combat often feels less like an exchange and more like a strongly worded lesson.

Once the blockers are gone, Dominate steps in and suddenly the bleeding starts. Hard. Turns out people are much worse at defending themselves when they're already face-down.

 

How to do politics with Lasombra?

While I enjoyed Lasombra rush, I had more success when I leaned into their shady nature. So when I think about political decks, I always boil it down to two questions.

First: can I make the action succeed?
That means stealth or block denial. Begging the table not to block your political action is technically an option, but in my experience it's about as reliable as promising to "just look" at one more card on VDB.

Lasombra do this well. Shadow Cast, Shadow Cloak and Where the Veil Thins all provide stealth at inferior, with tasty bonuses at superior. If stealth isn't enough, you can go the "don't even try" route with Stygian Shroud or Seduction. It's hard to block someone when your vampire is too intimidated (or too distracted) to care.

Second: do I have the votes?
Unless you've achieved vote lock (the political equivalent of flipping the table and declaring yourself the Senate), you'll need help. And this is where politics really shines. Deals get made. Promises get broken. Someone inevitably realizes too late that they argued themselves into a corner.

Lasombra politics feel especially good because the threat is always there. "You can vote against me," they seem to say, "but remember what happened to the last vampire who blocked my action." Thrilling, isn't it?

Getting votes can be tricky. Group 2 has cardinals (one of whom is affectionately nicknamed Potato, which is both hilarious and somehow accurate) but since my collection leans heavily toward Group 6, I usually work with what I've got. It's more negotiation, more table talk, more shadowy influence.

That feels exactly right for Lasombra.

In the end, Lasombra scratch a very specific itch. They let me play politics and/or apply pressure. They punish blockers, manipulate votes and operate with an ever-present aura of menace. They're the clan that doesn't just participate in the game, they loom over it. Which, now that I think about it, might explain why I keep coming back to them.

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

Custodian Hargrave