“Come to Malifaux!” the poster said. “A New World Awaits!” the recruiter said.

Now here you are, shoved and jostled through the Breach train station into the foggy, stinking streets of Malifaux. After all the hype, it’s not all that much to look at. Still, it could be worse. You could be one of the poor souls being marched off in chains to work the Guild’s mines.

It’s not far to the saloon where you are to meet your new boss, Remi Villeneuve, a legendary bounty and big game hunter who was one of the first through the reopened Breach nine years ago, pronouncing to the assembled reporters that “Bigger game awaited” as he stepped onto the train with his custom Holland & Holland double rifle over his shoulder. Everybody knew Remi, and the newspapers breathlessly covered his Breachside career until a charging Nephilim took his leg in the middle of the desert. Remi was remarkably sanguine about the loss of the limb, partly because of the nickname he acquired after his method of surviving the event – Remi the Knife – and partly because he could honorably retire to the “safety” of the city of Malifaux. Now he recruits tough men and women from the darkest corners of the Earth and pays their tickets to Malifaux in exchange for their time and, quite often, their blood to be spent in tracking down the latest Guild bounties.

Off the job, Remi’s risk-taking, cigar-chomping heroes and heroines continue to provide great fodder for both Earth’s and Malifaux’s seediest tabloids and have become folk heroes to the vast criminal underclasses. For years you’ve dreamed of joining their ranks, grizzled and ready to take on the worst of two words for an adoring public. And now here you are, meeting Remi in a smoke-filled saloon in the slums of Malifaux. It’s enough to make you giggle and jump a bit with uncontrollable emotion, if you were the type given to giggling and jumping with uncontrollable emotion. Which, actually, you are.

Not content with the bounty hunting business, Remi has decided to open Malifaux’s first consulting detective agency. For that, he knows, he needs more… cerebral types. The sort of men and women that think a lot, read a lot, and spend all day puzzling out the details of a complicated case. The sort of men and women with strange hobbies and odd stores of trivial knowledge that nevertheless come in handy. And so, for the last few months, Remi has been Earthside, limping from university to seminary to academy, recruiting nerds.

Welcome to Malifaux.

Remi's Rapscallions

bastiandantilus dmelleno