1787 The Year of The Breach
Whether in the whispered rumours of the general populace or the secretive, hushed tones of The Guild, it is a word always spoken with fear.
For years it had grown more and more evident to everyone that magic was clearly in decline within our world; even the greatest of practitioners found it increasingly difficult to perform the most mundane acts. Some argued that we had become too dependent on magic, that the world was simply returning to a more natural state. Others countered that magic itself was natural, and that if magical practitioners such as healers could no longer ply their trade, the lives of all would suffer.
In 1787, the most powerful practitioners of the day came together and united in discovering new sources of power. Although the process of how they discovered this new power is still uncertain, they found a world just outside of our existence, with only a thin barrier separating the two. A barrier that could possibly be opened. The raw magical energy that permeated through was too powerful to resist.
Some likened it to breaking into the greatest of the tombs of antiquity. Those who felt keenest the weakening of their magics likened it to breaking out of one.
In the noblest feat of magical co-operation in history – some would call it an act of desperation – the sorcerers worked their greatest magic ever and tore a breach between the two worlds. The resulting destruction was unprecedented. Hundreds of the least powerful practitioners died instantly. The makeshift city where The Breach was opened was flattened, the life force of its inhabitants ripped from their bodies as unparalleled powers ebbed and flowed between the two worlds.
They say that great deeds require great sacrifice; both were accomplished that day.
It was called The Breach of The Great Boundary, a ragged hole large enough to sail a steamship through, torn from the very fabric of reality itself. Through it, just a reach away, was visible another hole, its edges raw and rough, and beyond that, a world like our own but lit by an unknown sun. Between the two, a featureless, lightless void. A twisted mirror of our world, framed by endless night. A cold wind blew through The Breach and brought with it the faint smell of old death. Thinking that with the blood of the dead the price of this new prize had been fully paid, expeditionary teams were quickly dispatched to scout this new land and bring back its secrets.
On the other side of The Breach, these teams found a large city, with features similar to many in our own world, but like none of them. It was as if all the great capitals from throughout history had been stacked and shuffled by the gods – gothic arches before Palladian villas, Lahore minarets beside Italian spires, rough brick chimneys from Empire factories over marble colonnades and Three Kingdoms pillar-gates guarding colonial mansion houses. However, all of those that crossed The Breach that day could feel that this new world was vastly different. The air was sweet with nectar and sap from plants no man had ever named, and sour with the scent of untilled earth above which strange constellations had forever spun. The sun shone brighter at noon, but darker either side, and at night the shadows from the two moons played tricks on men's minds. Many of the buildings bore strange writing, some carved into the facades, some painted onto doors.
After searching the City for two weeks, not a single living thing could be found, not a trace of human or animal. With no signs of battle, no corpses, no destruction, it was as if the inhabitants had simply disappeared.
A team led by Professor Mondragone of the Voynich Institute were allowed entrance to this strange new world to study the signs and symbols in an effort to learn what might have happened. After months of research, they found that the City had been called Malifaux. The signs and symbols on the walls and doorways were simple store signs: merchant, tailor, blacksmith. Other signs, though, were puzzling: who needed a Death Surgeon and what were Mechanical Magics? No written records of trade or tradition were ever found, no intimate traces of the lives these people had lived. All that remained were the silent, forbidding bones of the buildings they had raised to protect themselves.
The explorers moved farther out, seeking answers, but also seeking the source of the magical power they sensed lay all around them. Several miles north of the City, they found a small mining town. There were a few wooden buildings, many of them crumbling. A large hole was cut into the hillside just west of the town, with a shaft leading down. Their delvings soon turned up a gemstone that radiated more magical power than any of them had ever seen. The stones came in a variety of hues, some more powerful than others, but within them there lurked a store of latent magical energy that a sorcerer could channel for his own purposes.
The scholars found references to these magical stones in old manuscripts. They were called ether, and the manuscripts spoke of great power within them. The scholars went on to speak of warnings of great danger, but the men in charge had ceased listening. There was a rush to mine these stones in great quantity, but as each stone was used it grew dark, its magical energy gradually depleted. Before long, however, for the city of Malifaux was a dark and dangerous place, it was discovered that a person's death could replenish the stone’s magical energy. This morbid effect earned the gems the name of Soulstone, and earned the poor and unfortunate a new means of dying for their masters' causes.
After six months of exploration, The Breach was opened to the general populace. A thriving trade was established Earthside for those daring enough to harvest the Soulstones of Malifaux. The crumbling boomtowns away from the City of Malifaux were rebuilt, and those willing to brave the harsh environment populated these cities to work the Soulstone mines. Many practitioners moved to Malifaux in order to further their magic, and with them came families and servants – an entire population.
Life in this manner continued for little more than a decade.
The salvation of magic was at hand.
1797 or 10 PF (Post Foris)
The border town of Malifaux became a thriving city over the next decade, growing fat and rich with the mining and trading of Soulstones.
However, the dangers of the land began taking their toll on those that moved farther and farther from The Breach. Rumours and stories began to circulate about tombs that held dark secrets and power even greater than the Soulstones. Entering those ancient burial sites had given life to the dead, waking protectors from another age. Expeditions set out, but few returned. Those that did spent their last breaths in tales of horrific creatures and beings of mythology and fables. Cartographers did roaring business with maps saying “Here Be Dragons” that lampooned the explorers as tellers of tall tales, and one in particular mocked the fanciful sightings, naming them the Neverborn. The name stuck, even after the killings grew, the mocking stopped and the nightmare things made believers of them all. No one knew where they had come from or why they had only now begun to show themselves, though it was quickly discovered that man was no friend of theirs.
While some explored above ground, others risked the tombs. Ancient secrets were uncovered, including the magic of reanimating the dead to use as slaves, and ways to manipulate flesh itself, turning a once living human into an abomination of undeath. The horrors unleashed were too much to bear, and these necromancers swiftly became outcasts.
Other practitioners focused their studies on the machines that were found throughout the City and the surrounding land. Although many of these devices were rusted and incomplete, some could still be animated simply by placing a Soulstone inside the metal. Something in the Soulstone knew the function of the machine, and imbued it once again with purpose and power. Many of the machines were simple things, little more than toys. However, there were other machines – mobile machines with great weapons – that could be brought back to life with the right Soulstones and a practitioner with enough knowledge.
In the winter of 1797, one of the worst blizzards to hit Malifaux during the time of man’s occupation arrived, and at its height the Great Boundary became unstable. Despite the best efforts of the Breach sorcerers, The Breach began to shrink in upon itself. All attempts to pass through were rebuffed, as if some invisible force was standing in the way. And then from Earthside, sounds of a fierce battle drifted across The Boundary from Malifaux, accompanied by screams of horror and suffering that were heard all throughout Breachtown.
In the early morning hours of that long night, despite the most desperate measures taken, The Breach shrunk to the height of a man and a choking smoke rolled through it from Malifaux. Just before dawn the screaming and sounds of battle fell silent, and the Breach sorcerers drew closer in a fearful huddle, exhausted Soulstones scattered around them. Then a mangled body came hurtling through the opening and landed with a sickening thud as The Breach of The Great Boundary closed in upon itself with an earshattering howl. A single word was carved into the ruined flesh of the corpse:
“Ours.”
1798 or 11 PF (Post Foris)
A time of shock and turmoil fuelled the panic that ensued after the Fall of The Great Boundary. Many Soulstones were exhausted to shattering point, but even the magics that had opened it the first time failed, and The Breach could not be opened again.
Magic was once again threatened, and soon wars were launched to secure the remaining Soulstones. Depraved and dark acts were enacted to capture additional life forces within the stones to overwhelm new enemies.
The Guild, a society of ruthless merchants, politicians, and practitioners, was formed to bring some semblance of order to the chaos. This organization took control of the Soulstones with an iron fist, and made their headquarters in Breachtown. They passed a law that forbade anyone from possessing Soulstones, except Guild officials. Breaking that law was punishable with immediate execution – in the presence of a Soulstone, of course.
With the number of charged Soulstones quickly dwindling, the Guild instituted measures to ensure their power did not diminish. Soulstones were replenished at hospitals, prisons, madhouses and even orphanages. Although considered cruel by some outcasts and activists, the Guild promoted it as a necessary act of preservation.
1897 or 110 PF (Post Foris)
Exactly one century after it had closed, down to the very minute, the Great Boundary tore open the veil separating Earth from Malifaux. However, unlike the first breaching, the death and damage was relatively minor. The sudden return of The Breach caused panic throughout the Guild, as they were certain that whatever calamity had befallen Malifaux a hundred years earlier was about to be played out Earthside.
But that did not occur. After a month of intense battle readiness, the Guild sent a heavily armed expeditionary group through The Breach. They found the City empty and partially in ruin, the signs of a battle having been fought. Some of the signs of combat appeared fresh, as though the battle of a century past had only just ended. However, as was the case one hundred years earlier, there were no bodies to be found.
The Guild moved quickly. It now had access to the first new supply of Soulstones in a century. The Guild also knew that power and profit lay in controlling the Breach, not in back-breaking labour in the mines. With the Breach secured, they could set their own price for Soulstones, and those Earthside would not care what they did so long as the Soulstones kept on coming.
The Guild issued a call to the criminals and outcasts of Earth – come to Malifaux and with hard work and luck buy your freedom, or rot in jail for the rest of your life. Many of the great powers of Earth were only too keen to empty their prisons, and a sentence of “life in Malifaux” became a common one around the world. Many wretches volunteered as well, drawn by the glittering promise of a fresh start, and before long the Guild recruiting stations were a familiar sight to the poor and the downtrodden, families bidding farewell to fathers who passed through their doors, most never to return. And then there were the enemies of the Guild or those who were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and woke up shackled with a sore head on a train through the Breach.
Naturally, where opportunity exists, so do exceptional people willing to face the unknown, no matter the dangers. Malifaux had an influx of rough but skilled men and women seeking power, treasures, and adventure. The Guild made some effort to stop them, but in truth they cared little provided the Soulstone supply was not interrupted, and for the first time in a hundred years, magic was flourishing again.
With a work force comprised mostly of social undesirables, criminals, and radical elements, the Guild put a martial force in place to watch over the Breach and the trade in Soulstones. Life is harsh and hard in Malifaux; for those that buck the system or do anything that might halt the shipment of the Guild's precious stones, it is also short. However, there are those that garner so much power or wealth that they are virtually untouchable. Every man, woman, and child within Malifaux strives for this – power to live their lives at their will or to buy a return trip through the heavily guarded Breach.
1901 or 114 PF (Post Foris)
Four years have passed since the reappearance of The Breach. Much to the Guild’s displeasure, it has been learned that several other Breaches have been discovered. While none are nearly as large as the Great Breach, the Guild is now faced with the loss of total control of access to Malifaux. This, in turn, means that they may not have a complete monopoly on the Soulstones, though they do their best to crush any competition.
Although Malifaux itself is well on its way to being rebuilt by the Governor General of the Guild, there are large portions of the City that see little, if any, human habitation. In these areas, the darkest parts of the ruins, intelligences both ancient and malevolent lurk. The Governor General has declared these portions of the City off-limits to all and has erected walls and bulwarks; many of them cutting across streets and alleys in an attempt to restrict access to – and from – the darker side of Malifaux.
The Governor General has the nearly impossible job of keeping a giant and chaotic city of vying interests under control. He has found that the most expedient way to deal with this problem is to issue writs to various factions across the continent. This gives them limited power to police a part of the City or the outer towns and keeps them at each other's throats. After all, if they are fighting one another, they are not fighting him.
The men and women in Malifaux hammer out a life amongst its harsh lands. Towns and other settlements have sprouted up farther from The Breach, ostensibly to work the Soulstone mines, but also to escape the looming presence of the oppressive Guild and their laws. However, as some seek distance from power, others have learned that should a person have plenty of Soulstones, influence, or simply enough power of their own to give the Guild pause, then they are fairly free to make or break the rules as they see fit.
There are whispers and rumours of covens and other groups that have wriggled out from beneath the thumb of the Guild to forge their own power base in the ruins and the hinterlands. More than one skirmish has occurred between competing factions in the last year, as well as within the Guild itself.
To make matters worse, the Neverborn have resurfaced, making their presence known to all within Malifaux. These hellish creatures take on forms ripped from myth and legend, from nightmares buried deep in the mind of man, dark and terrible shadows on the cave walls. What their goals are and whether or not they were responsible for the loss of the original colonists or the re-opening of The Breach is known only to them. All that is certain is that no-one is safe.
Recent discoveries of powerful artifacts of a bygone era have brought keen interest from the various powers within the land, and wild speculation that perhaps one of these artifacts caused the destruction of The Breach one hundred years ago. Along with the scramble to recover Soulstones, every organization and faction with resources to spend is searching for them. However, every attempt at retrieving one risks attracting the attention of the Neverborn, and it is only the truly strong, or the very lucky, that manage to retain control of these precious items for long.
The Guild can feel their power slipping away. Entire groups of people are appearing in Malifaux without their knowledge and bringing chaos in their wake. Mercenaries are renting themselves to the highest bidder, and it is not always the Guild.
Even though the Guild has declared necromancy a crime, and put out a bounty on all who would call themselves Necromancers, few are willing to try to capture them. When those that have attempted it do make it back, it is almost always as one of the shuffling Undead.
In an effort to retain their power, the Guild has stepped up their already cruel and heavy-handed authority, swearing that they will stop at nothing to completely control Malifaux, along with everyone and everything in it. Everyone can feel it; they all know it’s coming.
In the dangerous and deadly world of Malifaux, things are about to get much, much worse.