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Heart of Deimos: Update 29
Tenno,
Much awaits you in Update 29: Heart of Deimos. Unveil the secrets of Deimos, Mars' second moon. Discover what has been shrouded in mystery, hidden from the Origin System, and why this Infested moon has revealed itself only now. You may begin your search in the 'Heart of Deimos' Quest , eligible for players who have completed the Earth to Mars Junction.
Tenno beginning their journey in Warframe will now awake to a new cinematic introduction and revised tutorial with the New Player Experience: Tutorial 3.0. If you've already awoken, you too can enjoy the refresh by visiting the Codex in your Orbiter.
Xaku – The community-designed Warframe is here! Meet an amalgam of three fallen Warframes from an age past whose pieces were assembled of the Void and reborn as one: Xaku. They call out to you.
The Helminth has arrived, Warframe's deepest customization system yet. Feed the Helminth to replace your Warframes' Abilities! To begin the feast, you must earn the Helminth Segment from the Entrati Syndicate within the Heart of Deimos.
As with all Mainlines, we cast a huge web of changes. You may find some placeholder and unfinished features as you explore all that Heart of Deimos has to offer - please let us know if you see anything amiss! Within the Entrati Syndicate there of course exists its own economy, of which we welcome your constructive feedback once you’ve delved into its features.
Enjoy the Heart of Deimos, Tenno!
NEW QUEST: HEART OF DEIMOS
Deimos emerges in Martian orbit, completely overrun by the Infestation… yet among the writhing mass, a distress call comes over a most ancient carrier wave.
A new Quest is available in your Codex, Tenno! The Prerequisite for ‘Heart of Deimos’ is completing the Earth to Mars Junction.
The “Heart of Deimos” Quest will introduce you to the newest Open World. Learn all about the denizens of THE CAMBION DRIFT, and the souls lurking in THE NECRALISK HUB!
If you buy Xaku with Platinum, you will receive a Riven Mod as a quest Reward in addition to the Xaku Blueprint.
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NEW OPEN WORLD: CAMBION DRIFT
The Cambion Drift is a dense open world on Mars’ infested moon of DEIMOS that connects to the Necralisk, a new Hub (detailed below). Below this Open World you will find an Underground, the second layer. You can find puzzles and mysteries below, as well as Necramech encounters! The Cambion Drift will be made accessible in the Star Chart once you’ve completed the Heart of Deimos quest.
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OPEN WORLD CYCLE: VOME VS. FASS
The Infested moon of Deimos is under a constant war between VOME and FASS. As you play, you’ll watch the feuding siblings reclaim dominance over Deimos and its denizens.
Vome - with her gentle watch. Fass - with his spiteful anger.
When Vome wins the sibling battle and watches over the Cambion Drift, formidable Infested enemies will lay dormant and you may come across friendly Necramechs on your travels. When Fass wins the sibling battle and watches over the Cambion Drift, those formidable Infested enemies will rise, and ruined Necramechs will lay silent throughout Cambion Drift. The more you play, the more you’ll discover about their watchful effects!
Beware, Tenno!
NEW HUB: NECRALISK The Necralisk is a Void Research Facility home to the ENTRATI - who you will learn much more about as you play the ‘Heart of Deimos’ Quest. To keep these notes spoiler free, we will simply provide the types of NPC vendors available within the Necralisk! Full services and details can be discovered in game after completing the Heart of Deimos Quest.
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NEW SYNDICATES:
Entrati The Entrati are the main Syndicate for the new Open World. Within The Entrati, you will be able to ascend the ranks with Entrati Tokens to earn rewards and the respect of this ancient Orokin bloodline.
Necraloid The Necraloid are the Operator Syndicate within The Necralisk. The War Within is required to access this Syndicate. Within the Necraloid, you will be able to ascend the ranks with Orokin Matrices and earn your very own Necramech and more! You will learn the true nature of THE VOID within the walls of the Necraloid as you progress. (See NECRAMECH section to learn more about the Necraloid Syndicate)
ENTRATI SYNDICATE ENTRATI TOKEN SYSTEM:
A key part of Heart of Deimos are the Tokens representing each of the Entrati members. These will be your key to progress throughout the ENTRATI Syndicate in order to gain Standing, and by talking to each Vendor and playing Bounties you can discover all there is to earn!
An important distinction from this Open World vs. others is that, due to the nature of the Entrati’s relationships to one another, we are using a symbolic Token system for all Syndicate Standing. As an example , this means by completing Bounties you will earn ‘Mother Tokens’, that you can redeem for Entrati Standing at any time within your Daily Limits. You can always earn more Mother Tokens than your Daily Standing Cap allows, meaning you can accrue and redeem at times convenient for you! (Read on below to see Daily Standing Cap changes!)
Bounties / Entrati Syndicate Leader: Mother

• All your Entrati Syndicate progress and management needs can be found with Mother!
• All your Bounty access needs can be found with Mother!

*Weapons & More: *

• All your Entrati weaponry needs can be found with this Entrati member you will meet upon completion of the ‘Heart of Deimos’ Quest!
• Find new Prime Weapon Mods within this Entrati members offerings! See ‘NEW PRIME WEAPON MODS’ section below.

*Infested Kitguns will be offered by this Entrati member in a later Update to Heart of Deimos.
Fishing:

• All your Entrati Fishing needs can be found with this Entrati member you will meet upon completion of the ‘Heart of Deimos’ Quest!
• Here you will be able to cut Deimos Fish for fish parts to use towards this members Token system, crafting, and more.

Conservation:

• All your Entrati Conservation needs can be found with this Entrati member you will meet upon completion of the ‘Heart of Deimos’ Quest!
• Here you will experiment with Revivification (see Revivification section of notes below), and other Experimental Procedures, obtaining Floofs, and more!

Mining: Otak

• All your Entrati Mining needs can be found with Otak, who you met at TennoCon!
• Here you will be able to exchange Gems and Alloys, and more!

Oddities & Token Exchange:

• All your Entrati Oddities and Token Exchanging needs can be found with this Entrati member you will meet upon completion of the ‘Heart of Deimos’ Quest!
• This Vendor also has some K-Drive Races for you out in the Cambion Drift!
• Here you can acquire Deimos Decorations and all new Deimos Captura Scenes.

NEW BOUNTIES & ISOLATION VAULTS
The Entrati are prepared to give a variety of new Bounty types to worthy Tenno - play them to earn new Rewards (including Xaku’s Components)!
Try out the new Endless Bounty to dig up Deimos rewards to your heart's content! Simply look for (ENDLESS) in the Bounty Description Title! Isolation Vaults await you as a part of these Bounties, tread with caution!
THE UNDERGROUND: Some high-level Bounties will allow you to explore THE UNDERGROUND - a region underneath Deimos with mystery, enemies, and new rewards! Engage with mysterious objects with your Operator, study memory puzzles, and more! The Isolation Vaults are filled with rot and reward!
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NECRALOID SYNDICATE NEW GAMEPLAY: NECRAMECH
Within the NECRALOID Syndicate, you will access everything you need to get started on building your very own NECRAMECH! You must have completed The War Within Quest to access this content.
In HEART OF DEIMOS, we are launching 1 NECRAMECH, found in the NECRALOID Syndicate! It is fully colour customizable, has 4 Unique Abilities (like a Warframe) and can be summoned for Transference via the NECRAMECH SUMMON Gear Item for use in ANY Open World! The Necramech Summon Gear Item is awarded upon crafting your first Necramech!
*An additional Mech will be offered by this Entrati member in a later Update to Heart of Deimos.
Meet the Necramech:
NECRAMECH - as seen at TennoCon! Play the Heart of Deimos Quest to learn more about these machines.
*Find the Necramech Blueprint as well as its Components from the Necraloid Syndicate.
Ability 1: Necraweb Hurl a canister of graviton fluids to create a wide mire that will significantly slow enemies travelling across it. Alternatively, the canister can be shot in mid-air to create a fiery conflagration.
Ability 2: Storm Shroud Swathe the Necramech in a powerful electrical field that greatly enhances survivability in close combat. Enemies that strike the shroud will suffer for their impudence.
Ability 3: Gravemines Launch a pattern of charged mines all around you. Each mine detonates in a violent blast when touched, damaging enemies in a three-meter radius.
Ability 4: Guard Mode Take a stationary stance to deploy maximum firepower and gain increased structural integrity for a time.
Necramech is compatible with Arch Guns with Gravimags installed!
NECRAMECH MODS:
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You will be able to Mod your very own Necramech using the 16 new Mods, obtained as drops from slain Necramechs.
Visit warframe.com/droptables for all your drop inquiries!
These 16 Necramech Mods are a mix of familiar Warframe Mods (Necramech Stretch, Necramech Intensify, Necramech Vitality, etc) as well as new Mod types specifically for the Necramech (Necramech Thrusters, Necramech Blitz, Necramech Refuel, etc).
NEW WEAPONRY: NECRAMECH WEAPONS Both the Cortege and Mausolon can also be used as Arch Guns!
CORTEGE An ancient weapon designed by the Entrati for use by their Necramechs. Primary fire siphons life essence from the target to fuel a devastating Alt Fire. A heavy flamethrower with surprising range. Alt fire launches three projectiles in a fan pattern that explode, leaving a damaging area of effect for a short duration.
*Find the Cortege Blueprint as well as its Components from the Necraloid Syndicate.
MAUSOLON (given with first built Necramech) An ancient weapon designed by the Entrati for use by their Necramechs. Primary fire siphons life essence from the target to fuel a devastating Alt Fire. Punishing automatic primary fire and an alt more that charges up to unleash a destructive beam of energy with a large explosion at point of impact.
*As outlined in a recent Dev Workshop, all new weapons in the update are starting with a minimum Riven disposition of 0.5. This includes the new Archgun weapons, Mausolon and Cortege. Archgun Riven dispositions have not been rebalanced in the past, but they will be included in our quarterly changes going forward, starting with the next Prime Access!
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CONSERVATION _ VELOCIPOD - LIVING K-DRIVES_ Scattered around the Cambion Drift are new passive creatures known as Velocipods. While they are flighty, if you manage to catch one and mount it you can pilot one like a temporary, organic K-Drive! You will be able to shoot from the back of a Velocipod, just like any other K-Drive! You can also choose to Conserve these creatures with the Tranq Rifle you acquired on your journey through Fortuna!
PREDASITE These Solitary predators return to the same partners each mating season, meeting up in the Swamp. Other times of the year, they disperse across the Cambion Drift. There are three subspecies of Predasites you can encounter in the wild. These subspecies, when captured, can be “Revivificated” into companions at the Conservation Vendor in the Necralisk. Learn more about Predasite companion creation in the “New Infested Companions” section below.
VULPAPHYLA These scavengers roam in small packs, picking at the remains that larger predators have left behind. There are three subspecies of Vulpaphyla you can encounter in the wild. These subspecies, when captured, can be “Revivificated” into companions at the Conservation Vendor in the Necralisk. Learn more about Vulpaphyla companion creation in the “New Infested Companions” section below.
AVICHAEA This winged Cambion Drift creature can be found clinging to the walls in groups, or seen flying overhead. A patient approach is best, as they are quick to flee if startled. There are three subspecies of Avichaea you can encounter in the wild.
CRYPTILEX These burrowing critters can occasionally be found near the Infested plants that grow from the fleshy landscape of the Cambion Drift. There are three subspecies of Cryptilex you can encounter in the wild.
*Each of these species have unique variants - find them all!
INFESTED FISHING Fishing on an Infested planet has some new challenges! Fish can be found flying (yes, flying) around the Cambion Drift, and come in a variety of flavors. Some fish will only be present during the Fass and Vome cycles and have various rarities!
Bait : Each time Fass and Vome duel in the Cambion Drift, the losing Wyrm’s body will scatter the landscape with its own Residue. Both the Fass Residue and Vome Residue can be picked up and used as Bait for the Infested Fish, using the Fishing Menu! Like with previous fishing systems, drop the Reside into the “water” and wait for the Fish to appear.
See the list of Fish below to learn more about each of the Infested Fish of Deimos and how some Fish only react to certain Residue. Visit the Entrati Syndicate Fishing member within the Necralisk to master the art of Infested Fishing!
Once you have completed the Heart of Deimos Quest, a new vendor will be able to provide you with the Spari Spear, as well as provide a location to turn in Fish for fish parts. The Fish on Deimos are unique creatures, so make sure you have the right equipment!
CAVE FISH:

• Duroid - A living fossil hearkening back to the Orokin era, this elusive fish hides below the surface of Exocrine pools in the deepest caverns it can find.
• Aquapulmo - These fish were purposefully contaminated with the Infestation as an Entrati 'experiment'. They feed off the organic deposits in cave systems.
• Kymaeros - The Infestation has suborned these fish to its own purposes, using them as antibodies in the Exocrine to repel the non-Infested. They swim through the cavernous arteries of Deimos.
• Chondricord - A triumph of Orokin bio-engineering, these hardy fish have adapted to the Deimos environment and seem oddly resistant to Infestation. They thrive in cave environments.
• Vitreospina - Whatever higher functions this fish once had have been consumed, leaving it a mere automaton of metal and flesh. It ekes out a primitive existence in cave systems.
• Barbisteo - As ravenous as the Infestation itself, this fish feeds on the remains of others. It shuns the light, preferring an enclosed cave environment.
• Myxostomata - This exceptionally rare breed of fish is almost extinct, as its gilded Orokin flesh has a special savor for predators. It warily conceals itself in caves.

SURFACE FISH:

• Ostimyr - Crammed with redundant, mutated internal organs, this pungent fish is highly sought after. It only emerges from surface pools in the light of the Wyrm Vome.
• Cryptosuctus - Formerly Orokin scavengers, these fish succumbed to the Infestation long ago and now greedily feast on floating spores. They are found all over the surface of Deimos.
• Glutinox - These hefty fish are cannibalistic. They rise by Vome's light to absorb rare gases, retreating when Fass ascends to devour their smaller kin in their lairs.
• Amniophysi - These fish hatch out of translucent pods formed in the Infested landscape itself. The radiance of Fass stirs them into activity.

NEW INFESTED RESOURCES
HARVESTING THE CAMBION DRIFT The Cambion Drift has a whole collection of new Resources to earn as you explore and delve into the Heart of Deimos. Unlike the more “natural” Resources of the Plains of Eidolon or the Orb Vallis, the Cambion Drift is a living, breathing landscape with a whole collection of Infested goodies to gather! Visit the Mining Entrati Syndicate member to learn more!
Mining GEMS

• Faceted Tiametrite - Common
• Purged Dagonic - Common
• Purified Heciphron - Uncommon
• Stellated Necrathene - Rare
• Trapezium Xenorhast - Legendary
• Cabochon Embolos - Legendary

ALLOYS

• Adramal Alloy - Common
• Tempered Bapholite - Common
• Devolved Namalon - Uncommon
• Thaumic Distillate - Rare

NEW INFESTED COMPANIONS - REVIVIFICATION
The Cambion Drift is a hostile world. Even though several native species have adapted to surviving amongst the rampant Infestation, they still fall prey to it and its attacks. The Vulpaphyla and Predasite are no exception and are threatened by its vicious nature. You can save these Conservation creatures by wrangling them from the wild Infested landscape so that they may be treated at the Necralisk hub. There, you can assist in the administering of treatment and “Revivificate” them into Companions.
*Please note Infested Companion Imprints will come in another Update.
Here’s how it works:
1. Capture
First you must tranq and capture a Vulpaphyla or Presadite in a wounded state (creatures affected will have a certain glow to them after they have been wounded by the Infested). You must encounter these creatures while they are infected and tranq it before it loses its battle with the Infested. The captured Vulpaphyla or Presadite is then transported to the Necralisk.
Without intervention, these creatures are likely to succumb to the Infestation. Return to the Necralisk and speak to the Conversation Vendor to treat them with a mix of Mutagens and Antigens to heal it of its ailments.
2. Treat
Visit the Conservation Vendor and select “Vulpaphyla/Presadite Revivification” to get started in restoring the creature. There are three elements that will bring the creature to a restored state so that they may fight alongside you. The options available in these categories will determine the characteristics of your new Infested Companion:

• Breed : The Wounded Vulpaphylas and Presadites you have saved will appear here for selection. The subspecies of the beast determines its physical appearance, base stats, and precepts.
• Mutagen : Adapts the Infestation to grant certain types of resistances. Side effects of the Mutagens include altering of the look of the tail.
• Antigen : Attunes the Infestation to certain polarities (Vazarin, Naramon, Madurai, and Penjaga). Side effects of the Antigen include various physical alterations.

Mutagens and Antigens can be purchased from the Conservation Vendor in Necralisk.
3. Keep or Release
After you have successfully saved the creature, you have the option to either keep or release it. Keeping the creature will make it available as a trusty Companion, while releasing the creature will put it back into the wild for a Standing gain with the Entrati.
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NEW INFESTED ENEMIES The DEIMOS creatures roaming the Cambion Drift feast on anything foolish enough to enter their desolate landscape. Fear the scuttling terror of the Deimos Carnis, the powerful slam of the Deimos Saxum and the subterranean terror of the Deimos Jugulus. With many legs and fearsome appetites, these infested creatures are waiting to devour any unwary Tenno that may cross their path!
NEW INFESTED ENEMY MOD SETS:
Three new Mod Sets are here! The Saxum, Jugulus, and Carnis Mod Sets can be acquired from the Cambion Drift Bounty Rewards or from respective Infested enemies in the Cambion Drift.
Saxum Mod Set:

• Saxum Carapace (Warframe): +60 Armor, +90% Health.
• Saxum Splittle (Pistol): +90% Impact, +60% Status Chance.
• Saxum Thorax (Melee): +90% Impact, +60% Status Chance.
• Set Bonus (when all equipped): Lifted enemies explode on death dealing 30% Enemy Max Health as Impact Damage in a 6m radius.

Jugulus Mod Set:

• Jugulus Carapace (Warframe): +90% Armor, +60 Health.
• Jugulus Spines (Pistol): +90% Puncture, +60% Status Chance.
• Jugulus Barbs (Melee): +90% Puncture, +60% Status Chance.
• Set Bonus (when all equipped): Heavy Slam attacks manifest tendrils that skewer enemies within 10m, dealing 75 Puncture Damage and stunning them for 3s. Cooldown: 6s.

Carnis Mod Set:

• Carnis Carapace (Warframe): +60% Armor, +90% Health.
• Carnis Stinger (Pistol): +90% Slash, +60% Status Chance.
• Carnis Mandible (Melee): +90% Slash, +60% Status Chance.
• Set Bonus (when all equipped): Killing an enemy with a Heavy Attack grants 30% Evasion and immunity to Status Effects for 6s.

NEW ENTRATI WEAPONS
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TRUMNA An ancient weapon designed by the Entrati. This heavy, oversized automatic rifle uses withering fire to suck vital essence from its enemies, charging up a devastating alt-fire arcing projectile with each successful hit.
*Acquire the Blueprints and Components for the Trumna from the Entrati Syndicate Weapons member!
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SEPULCRUM An ancient Entrati double-barreled pistol delivers twin projectiles that explode on impact. With each hit, siphon vital essence from enemies to charge up a deadly lock-on alt-fire attack.
*Acquire the Blueprints and Components for the Sepulcrum from the Entrati Syndicate Weapons member!
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NEW GAMEPLAY SYSTEM: THE HELMINTH REVIEW OUR FULL DEV WORKSHOP HERE: https://forums.warframe.com/topic/1212921-the-helminth-dev-workshop
Customize your Warframe’s Abilities at a depth never experienced before in Warframe! Introducing THE HELMINTH.
The Helminth System is an expansion of the Helminth room on your Orbiter - you may only know this room as an infested space that allows you to remove the Helminth Cyst. With the ‘Heart of Deimos’ Update, that’s all changing. The Helminth system enables you to customize your Warframes by infusing new Abilities in place of existing Abilities.
Once you’ve unlocked The Helminth System, you can fast travel to the Helminth Infirmary under the Equipment pause menu!
Deep Dive:
How does it work?
To participate in the Helminth, you must obtain the ‘Helminth Segment’. This is acquired in the Heart of Deimos in the Entrati Syndicate Conservation member (once you are Rank 3 with Entrati) and is then crafted and installed on your Orbiter in the Helminth Room to begin your Helminth journey!
Once ready, there are 2 key things this System offers:
- You can replace 1 Ability per Warframe. - Every Warframe can be Subsumed to permanently provide 1 specific Ability to Helminth.
Who is this for?
We consider this a customization system for very experienced Warframe players (Mastery Rank 8 Prerequisite). We do not intend to let newer players unlock this system. We intentionally placed the Segment deep into progression to ensure only experience players could access the Segment and begin their journey with Helminth.
What are Resources / Secretions?
Virtually every Resource you’ve ever earned can be fed to Helminth - your stockpiles have a new home! This Feeding creates SECRETIONS , which allow you to utilize the Helminth for Ability customization. Helminth has a diverse appetite - make sure you feed Helminth Resources they want to eat to get the best Secretion results! Your choices on what you’ve fed Helminth will determine its willingness to reward secretions - change it up for best results!
Permanent?
Infused Abilities are removable with the click of a button - they will stay within a given Warframe as long as you decide you want it!
Subsuming a Warframe is permanent - only Subsume Warframes you are sure you do not want to play with. You can always re-earn or re-buy a subsumed Warframe.
Do Configurations matter?
You can deeply customize by only replacing Abilities on certain Configurations, as seen in the Demo! But we would like to expand this further to demonstrate just how deep you can go.
You can have 1 different Ability infused PER config!
So if you have Excalibur in the chair - you could put Shock on Configuration A, Molt on Configuration B, and Firewalker on Configuration C!
For example, if you wanted Shock applied to Excalibur on Configuration A but wanted Configuration B and Configuration C to stay default with Slash Dash, you can do so!
What does Ranking Helminth do?
As you feed and use the Helminth system, you will rank up! Each Rank unlocks something different - from a new power, to more Subsume Slots (max Rank Helminth = unlimited Subsume Slots), make sure you progress through the Ranks by regularly Feeding Helminth, Subsuming, and Infusing your Warframes!
What are the Helminth Abilities?
Helminth Provides unique abilities of their own:
"EMPOWER" "Increase the strength of your next Ability use."
“ENERGY MUNITIONS" "Increase the efficiency of your Ammo consumption."
"INFESTED MOBILITY" "Increase your parkour velocity."
"MARKED FOR DEATH" “Stun an enemy; a portion of the next damage you deal to it will be dealt to all enemies around it."
"REBUILD SHIELDS" "Instantly restore your shields."
"PERSPICACITY" "Automatically succeed at your next hack attempt."
"MASTER'S SUMMONS" "Heal your companion and call it to your side."
"EXPEDITE SUFFERING" "Affect enemies in a cone, removing any Bleed and Poison status from them and dealing any remaining damage not yet suffered in a single burst."
What is Subsuming?
In addition to Helminth’s own Abilities, you can Subsume a Warframe to obtain 1 specific Ability permanently in Helminth’s memory (list below). We do not allow the Subsuming of any Prime Warframes, but you can Infuse Abilities on Prime Warframes! Warframes can be Subsumed at any Rank (do not need to be Rank 30).
What is Infusion?
Infusion is the process of injecting a Warframe with an Ability - whether it be one of Helminth’s own, or another Warframes. Every Warframe can receive 1 Infused ability at a time in any Ability slot (i.e you could place Shock on any of the 4 Ability slots).
What is Subsuming?
Subsuming is the act of permanently providing a base Warframe into the Helminth’s biology. 1 Warframe can be subsumed every 24 hours.
What Abilities are earned on Subsuming a Warframe?
The following table outlines the current Ability a given Warframe will provide on the Subsume action.

WARFRAME	ABILITY	AUGMENT	DEV NOTES
Ash	Shuriken	Seeking Shuriken
Atlas	Petrify	Ore Gaze	We will not create Rubble.
Banshee	Silence	Savage Silence
Baruuk	Lull	Endless Lullaby
Chroma	Elemental Ward	Everlasting Ward
Ember	Fire Blast	Healing Flame
Equinox	Rest & Rage	Calm & Frenzy	We will use Rest or Rage depending on your Energy Colour.
Excalibur	Radial Blind	Radiant Finish
Frost	Ice Wave	Ice Wave Impede
Gara	Spectrorage	Spectrosiphon
Garuda	Blood Altar	n/a
Gauss	Thermal Sunder	n/a
Grendel	Nourish	n/a	Keeps the heal and give Nourish Strike only.
Harrow	Condemn	Tribunal
Hildryn	Pillage	Blazing Pillage	Drains 50 Energy instead of 50 Shield.
Hydroid	Tempest Barrage	Corroding Barrage
Inaros	Desiccation	Desiccation’s Curse
Ivara	Quiver	Empowered Quiver	Tap Cloak, Hold Noise. Augment only affects Cloak and Dashwire.
Khora	Ensnare	n/a
Limbo	Banish	Rift Haven	Base Ability Change: Add ‘Cancel ability on Hold’ to let enemies out of Rift.
Loki	Decoy	Savior Decoy
Mag	Pull	Greedy Pull
Mesa	Shooting Gallery	Muzzle Flash
Mirage	Eclipse	Total Eclipse	Diminished Damage increase to 150% and cap Damage Reduction 75%. (Unmodded value)
Nekros	Terrify	Creeping Terrify
Nezha	Fire Walker	Pyroclastic Flow
Nidus	Larva	Larva Burst	Radius reduced to 8m. (Unmodded value)
Nova	Null Star	Neutron Star
Nyx	Mind Control	Mind Freak
Oberon	Smite	Smite Infusion
Octavia	Resonator	Conductor
Protea	Dispensary	n/a	Duration reduced 12 seconds. (Unmodded value)
Revenant	Reave	Blinding Reave
Rhino	Roar	Piercing Roar	Diminished Damage increase 30% (Unmodded value)
Saryn	Molt	Regen Molt
Titania	Spellbind	Spellbound Harvest
Trinity	Well Of Life	Pool of Life	Base Ability Buffed - Now does small amount of heal over time over a large range. If you hit the enemy, a % of the damage dealt gets converted into AoE heal.
Valkyr	Warcry	Eternal War	Attack speed increase reduced 30%. (Unmodded value)
Vauban	Tesla Nervos	Tesla Bank
Volt	Shock	Shock Trooper
Wisp	Breach Surge	n/a
Wukong	Defy	n/a	Armor capped at 750. (Unmodded value)
Xaku	Xata’s Whisper	n/a
Zephyr	Airburst	n/a	Base Ability Buffed - now has a HOLD or TAP functionality. HOLD to receive original functionality. TAP to suck enemies in a wind Vortex.

Why do some Infused Warframe Abilities have these rules?
It was apparent in player feedback and our own play testing that these Infused Warframe Abilities had the potential to be the overwhelming choice; which is not ideal. Instead of changing the Ability outright due to those concerns, we decided to give them slight rules when Infused.
What are my safeguards?
Since you can remove an Ability at any time with the click of a button, you’ll be able to safely experiment with many creative combinations.
For example, if you replace Grendel’s ‘1’, your kit doesn’t really work! If you change around or re-assign Abilities already assigned to Railjack Tactical use, you simply may not have one, or have a new one in its place! If you put Hildryn’s PIllage on Inaros, you don’t get Shields, but you do get diminished ArmoShields on enemies on cast.
It’s all up to you - have fun experimenting, Tenno!
What about Damage buffing Abilities?
As you can see, we have two Abilities that increase damage: Mirage’s Eclipse, and Rhino’s Roar. We are creating a special case for these Abilities when infused on Warframes with similar Abilities (i.e Chroma, Mirage, Rhino, Octavia). When you infuse these, you will receive a prompt that you can only have 1 Damage Buffing ability at a time, and thus you are limited to replacing said ability type. Which is to say - Damage Buffing abilities can only be swapped with Damage Buffing Abilities on Warframes that already have them. However, that limitation does not apply to the other 30+ Warframes.
What exactly is going on here with the Warframe Subsuming?
Warframes that are Subsumed join the Helminth in an eternal bond. They will live on in a Lotus flower that matches the colours of the Subsumed Warframe, as a permanent honor.
Is ‘Helminth’ a permanent name?
Don’t like it? You can rename your Helminth at any time!
Is Helminth a Cat or Dog ‘Person’?
Well, you’ll find out…
https://www.youtube.com/embed/Kk3Gy151Bt0?feature=oembed
COMMUNITY CREATED WARFRAME: XAKU Neither he nor she, Xaku is a composite…. A Warframe assembly made of others lost in the early Entrati Void expeditions. Xaku has mastered this power of the Void to terrify and bewilder their adversaries.
Created by the community in the Community Created Warframe project from theme to aesthetic to Abilities. Xaku’s concept art was made by community fan artist Eornheit!
Since XAKU is a community Warframe, we will be doing a concerted second Phase of ability tweaks that is based on feedback on all platforms to ensure there are revisions from the community’s experiences. We will discuss this in a Dev Workshop as we get your feedback on our desks!
PASSIVE 25% chance for incoming weapon damage to pass through Xaku completely.
XATA’S WHISPER Wield Void Damage for all attacks from equipped weapons when activated.
GRASP OF LOHK Void Tendrils steal weapons from nearby enemies to use as your own floating, auto-targeting armament.
THE LOST Cycle through and cast one of the three abilities originating from the Warframes that make up Xaku: Accuse, Gaze, and Deny. Cycle through them by tapping, and hold to cast.
ACCUSE - Create a radial fissure for a limited time that corrupts enemies who walk within its radius to fight alongside Xaku.
GAZE - Xaku releases a scream of the many voices within to lock up to two target enemies in place with a Void tendrils cage. Enemies who enter the radius of the trapped victims will have their Armor or Shields reduced.
DENY - Xaku fires a beam that deals Void damage and can clear Sentient damage resistances. Enemies that survive the blow are suspended in the air.
THE VAST UNTIME Temporarily shed the outer pieces of Xaku in a destructive blast, then stalk the battlefield in a new swifter skeletal form. Enemies damaged by the body shrapnel are rendered weaker to Void damage. While Xaku is in their skeletal form, they have 75% damage reduction and increased mobility. Recast at any time to bring Xaku back together again.

• Similarly to Equinox, a toggle is available in the Arsenal to see Xaku in their “The Vast Untime” form.

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XAKU COLLECTION Xaku arrives from the Void as a strange and enigmatic new force. Includes the Xaku Warframe, Xaku Kintsu Helmet, Artifex Syandana, and Quassus Warfan. Also includes 3-Day Affinity and Credit Boosters.
XAKU KINTSU ALT HELMET Xaku cuts a unique profile in this distinctive Alt Helmet assembled from the remains of several other, less fortunate Warframes. Concept art and sculpt of the Xaku Kintsu Alt Helmet was made by community TennoGen Artist Faven.
ARTIFEX SYANDANA This techno-organic Syandana fits over the shoulder, giving your Warframe a unique spiked silhouette. A signature Syandana for Xaku. Concept art for the Artifex Syandana was made by community fan artist Karu.
QUASSUS Flick away the enemy with this heavy Warfan. The Quassus scatters ethereal daggers that are even more deadly accurate when wielded by Xaku, their signature weapon. Concept art for the Quassus Warfan was made by fan artist Kedemel.
*Find the Quassus in the Market or the Blueprint in Entrati Bounties.
https://www.youtube.com/embed/FX-fwFXYmn0?feature=oembed
NEW PLAYER EXPERIENCE: REVAMPED TUTORIAL
Tenno beginning their journey in Warframe will now awake to a new cinematic introduction and revised Tutorial.
Warframe’s new Tutorial continues the story introduced in the cinematic directed by Dan Trachtenberg. Elements that have become central to Warframe’s core gameplay, like bullet jumping, are now part of the tutorial. Traverse the Plains of Eidolon to escape Captain Vor and begin your quest to uncover forgotten memories!
Tenno who have already played through the Tutorial can play through the refreshed version by visiting the Codex Quest section under a new name ‘ *Awakening** ’ (also replayable)!
K-Drive Changes: For a while, we have received periodic requests to make weapons functional on K-Drives, and as a result, we have made Secondary Weapons usable while you glide in style! Please note that weapons are only usable when your K-Drive is on the ground, and will be stowed when jumping, doing flips, grinding, and other glinty maneuvers!
Mounting your K-Drive will appear as normal until you press the binding to equip your Secondary (default F key). Press again to put it away and do those sick moves.
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NEW K-DRIVE MODS With the expansion of K-Drive functionality, we have introduced some new K-Drive Mods for you to use! Roky in Fortuna will have all of these new wares to exchange for Ventkids Standing, so make sure you pay the Ventkids a visit!

• Primo Flair - Increase Maximum Trick combo to 6000.
• Bomb The Landin - Tap and Hold Grind in the air to execute a 20m Slam Shockwave.
• Juice - Executing tricks charges Energy: 55 Energy per 100 Trick Points.
• Vapor Trail - Add 10 Boost Speed. Consumes 10 Energy/s.

NEW PRIME WEAPON MODS
Paris Prime: Bhisaj-Bal - Restore 300 Health for every 3 Status Effects. +90% Status Chance.
Akstiletto Prime: Zazvat-Kar - +75% Ammo Efficiency while Airborne
Soma prime: Hata-Satya - Each hit increases Critical Chance by 1.2% (capped at 500%). Resets upon reloading or holstering.
Akbronco Prime: Damzav-Vati - +240% viral damage
*Find these new Prime Weapon Mods from the Weapon Entrati Syndicate member within the Necralisk!
NEW MARKET ITEMS
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DEIMOS INFESTED BUNDLE You are pestilence and plague with the Deimos Infested Bundle. Includes the Zymos Pistol, Keratinos Claws, and Sordario Syandana.
ZYMOS Infect your foes with this spore-scattering pistol. Head shots burrow in and explode, releasing spore clouds that seek our nearby enemies.
*Find the Zymos Blueprint and its components from within the Entrati Syndicate!
KERATINOS Leave your mark with these infected claws with increased heavy attack range.

The other day someone posted here in /austin a nice video of the granite blocks that remain from train derailments that occurred back in the 1880s when the Capitol was under construction and trains would bring granite from quarries near Burnet. Apparently they left most of the blocks where they stood. There has been much discussion about the blocks here before, but I wanted to share with y'all some newspaper clippings of when this happened. Unfortunately I couldn't find any!
But one thing I ended up finding when searching for news of the granite block derailments were advertisements for Watters Park, and for excursion trains on the Austin and North Western Railroad, the railroad that was built for the purpose of bringing the blocks into Austin. The route the train followed back then is the same one the MetroRail Redline uses today. It went as far as Marble Falls. But Watters Park was the first stop outside of Austin and after the capitol was completed, the train route was used most often to ferry excursionists to and from this place. Today Watters Park is little more than a street name exit off of N. Mopac and an entry on TSHA site. But back in the 1890s it was a recreational destination like we think of Zilker Park today. It wasn't a water park with slides, but more of a natural area with a train station, a bandstand and dancing area, a few shops, a few permanent resident farmers and lots of livestock.
There are no photos of these old trains or of Watters Park that I know of. So I thought I would copypaste for y'all a few articles describing the beauty of the place and what kinds of events took place there, and of the excursion trains that would go out to the hill country northwest of here.
But first let's get the small bit I could find about the granite blocks out of the way. This old KXAN article that was submitted here a little over a year ago explains them for those who don't already know:

Why capitol builders abandoned these granite blocks in Austin in the 1880s
The Texas capitol turns 131 years old Thursday, but you don’t have to visit the building to see the history surrounding its construction.
Massive granite blocks are scattered along rail lines throughout Austin, dotting the landscape visible from Capital Metro’s MetroRail routes between Leander and downtown. The blocks — at least 50 of them in all — are accidental monuments to the effort that went into building the statehouse in the 1880s.
“They would have been in the capitol if they’d gotten there,” Mike Cox, a longtime Austin writer and amateur historian, told KXAN.
Cox’s latest book, “Legends and Lore of the Texas Capitol,” published in 2017, tells stories about the iconic pink dome, including how the massive blocks of almost-capitol arrived at their new homes along Austin’s rail lines.
He first started hearing the tale as a kid. “My grandfather’s father…was actually among the laborers who helped build the capitol,” he said, so when he was young, his grandfather would point out the granite along Airport Boulevard and explain a piece of Texas history.
Back in the 1880s, when construction began, a quarry in Marble Falls agreed to donate all the “Sunset Red” granite needed to build the 302-foot-tall capitol. Contractors originally planned to use limestone but realized it became discolored when exposed to the elements due to iron in the rock.
In exchange for the granite, workers built a rail line to haul stone from the quarry up to Burnet, where it was shaped by masons from Scotland, and then down into Austin.
Some 4,000 train-loads stacked with nearly 190,000 cubic feet of granite rolled into the capital city during the six years of construction leading up to the building’s dedication on May 16, 1888. But not all of it made the entire trek.
Hauled on flatcars riding a small-gauge rail, some of the blocks simply fell off the train; since the state was getting them for free, it made more sense just to haul in more instead of spending the effort and money to pick them back up.
Most of them are still where they fell more than 130 years ago. “Not likely to be going anywhere at 168 pounds per cubic foot,” Cox said.
MetroRail commuter trains now follow the same route as the granite-haulers; though the tracks have been modernized, the blocks have stayed put.
A large collection sits along the track at Waters Park Road, near Mopac and Parmer Lane. Less than a mile south, several more blocks are visible at the crossing on Gracy Farms Lane, and a smaller chunk is hidden in the brush where the tracks cross 38th 1/2 Street in east Austin.
In at least one instance, train cars derailed completely while crossing a bridge over Brushy Creek in northwest Austin, sending about three dozen blocks into the creek bed below. The Brushy Creek Greenbelt grew up around them, and visitors can see and explore the piles of almost-capitol granite. The state installed a historical marker near the site in 2008.
Cox also found a solitary block in Bertram. There are likely more along the miles of track between Burnet and Austin, he said, but they’re either hard to access or covered up by brush.
One place he can’t find them, though, is the spot that spawned his interest in the story and in history more generally.
“The only ones that I know that have been reclaimed were the ones that I used to see on Airport Boulevard,” he said. In all his research, he’s never come across a reference to the stones being removed, and can only speculate as to what happened to them.
“I’d sure like to know if somebody does know where they went,” he said. “It’s not the kind of thing you can just go over there and pick up and put in the trunk of your car.”
That’s why many of the blocks haven’t moved in the last 130 years. They’ve withstood the test of time, each one a memorial to the work that went into the capitol all those years ago; each one a piece of almost-capitol.

Back in 1962 a Statesman history writer named Hamilton Wright wrote an article on the history of Watters Park. Quoting some of it:

Waiters Park Excursions Popular And Real Bargain in Good Old Day
Sights and Incidents you would have seen in the 1890s in the Austin country: A "dummy-line" railway engine standing at the west side of Congress Avenue at Fourth Street. It was in the early 1890s,...
THE LITTLE "pleasure resort" of Watters Park, 10 miles north of Austin on the narrow gauge Austin and Northwestern Railroad. A regular summer Sunday excursion train "toted" you to and from that pleasure retreat for the insignificant sum of two bits--25 cents. Watters Park had a beer saloon where big, white collared mugs were pushed over the well lined bar. Also a cotton gin, a store and a section house for gandy dancers of the railroad. Just south was the bayou-like Walnut Creek whose origin was a bubbling, fern-fringed fountain. Watters in the 1890s was on the popular wagon route called "The Georgetown Road." Two miles west of Watters Park was Duval, a rail station before Austin welcomed the I&GN, now the Missouri Pacific. It contained bare stone walls just below the Walnut Creek which legend said had been a water driven grist mill when Austin was in its swaddling clothes. Some of the ruins remain to this day.
FIND REPORTED
Near Watters Park in the late 1890s natural asphalt was reported found seeping out of Walnut Creek banks. The report created a sensation in Austin and The Statesman related a company might be formed to develop the find. Doubtless the asphalt still seeps from the deposit there.

The same Statesman history reporter made an even better article in 1963 about Watters Park and some of the other nearby places that are long gone:

Austin has come a "fur piece" since 1890.
As a boy I used to sit on the gatepost of our county home 10 miles north ol Austin, on the old Round Rock-Georgetown Thoroughfare, and watch long strings of Longhorn cattle slowly driven northward, monopolizing the narrow lane and making buggy-travel perilous. And farmers still drove yokes of oxen big animals, slow but obedient. And we used to ride in a straw-covered wagon to church at Merriltown, three miles away.
The man and his wife sat on the seat and the children and I was one of them dangled our feet out the endgate and other adults sat in rickety rawhide-bottom chairs. The conversation to the church was anticipation and that on the way back comments on the contents of the long-drawn-out sermon. Usually we children had not survived the long passage but fallen asleep and, like stovewood, fondly laid to rest and slumber in the hay in the wagon. Them was the the good days nonetheless!
There was a little frame school house at Summitt where we lived. It had 20 or 30 nondescript boy and girl pupils. It ran only a few months in the year. I was too young to "matriculate." All about were cotton and com fields. Corn really made a good yield in those days. In the spring, roasting ears were a delicacy for a time. And mustang grapes matted almost every stunted tree and produced great clusters of grapes. The green ones saturated with brown sugar made excellent cobblers. And some of the "anti" men of the community had developed a very pronounced taste for the ropy, language-provoking wine they made. Sometimes tramps caught between towns after dusk stole into fields of corn, got a handful of ears, and buried them with shucks on, into the hot ashes. After a long stay they were taken out and eaten. Nothing better!
Before my departure from the Summit community the highway through there was macadamized. County prisoners and convicts with chain and ball about each one's feet did the arduous job of making big lumps of limestone into little ones. The road through there was a long time under construction. But it effectively lifted the farmers and sheepmen of the Duval-Watters-Summitt communities out of black mud which after slow rains clogged wheels and completely disrupted transportation and communication. Running about a quarter mile back of our farm house was the Austin and Northwestern Railroad, built a narrow-gauge to handle huge blocks of granite from Granite Mountain to the site of the present State Capitol.
Many a time I waved at the engineer on the dinky, smoke-spitting and grumbling locomotive. And sometimes the train made a contribution of free blocks of granite when they tumbled off the flat cars on which they had been perched, they were never picked up.
About a mile farther on the way to Austin was a small board designating the "station" an empty place on the line where a chance passenger waved his hand with a "washout signal" to get the train to stop and pick him up. And about half a mile west of our house the International and Great Northern Railroad (now the Missouri Pacific) ran through big corn-held. A little shed 6 by 3 feet, covered, bore the name Amboy, where passenger trains stopped on flag. Originally the station was Mount Juliet and boasted a store and a postoffice.
Duval, 2 miles farther north, was an important station back in the 1880's and 1890's. It once had a depot, sectionhouse and a large mercantile establishment, once visited by Sam Bass and his gang. Duval was noted for its gushing spring, the source of Walnut Creek. The spring once furnished enough water for a grist mill, probably long before the Civil War. Copperhead and rattlesnakes were numerous.
Now Duval, Amboy, Watters, Mount Juliet do not rate a station whistle from speedy freight and passenger trains. No longer does one see a yoke of oxen, and the once-modern macadam road is now paved. And the boy who sat on the Summitt gate-post and watched the long string of Long-horns go by and longed for the long tarrying buggy of his dad to return from Austin 8 miles away then but now inside Austin and the sack of mixed candy he was bringing to his tot sits in a rocker trying to understand the riddle of life a man of nearly 79, still full of wonderment.

I've always wanted to know more about what kinds of festivities took place in Watters Park so I went looking further in the old Weekly Statesman editions from the 1890s and very early 1900s in the UNT archive. There was a lot to find! Mostly farming reports and news from the police blotter. But some of the reports were advertisements for the park. Quoting one from 1897:

THE GLORIES OF WATTERS
An Ideal Place for Romancers and Picnickers.
Every observing traveler over the Austin and Northwestern Railway has been struck with the variety and beauty of the adjoining landscape the solid and well kept roadbed and the substantial and picturesque depots at stopping points which prove that the road is under the management of a man of fine taste and good judgment. One of the most noticeable stations is at Watters fourteen miles by rail and ten by road from Austin on the headwaters of Walnut creek. Watters is a pretty little village which threatens by its popularity as a holiday resort to soon develop into a town it not a city Not only is the village itself interesting but it is surrounded by a country so varied in character and favored by nature is rarely met with in Texas. Before the advent of the railroad the village was known as Sumnerville after one of the old settlers but the railway builders gave it is present name as one of the natives explained because tho waters of the two branches of Walnut creek met there but of this deponent is not in a position to speak. It has always been a favorite camping place for the lovers of Outdoor religious meetings.- and under the spreading branches of the giant pecans that now shade the new bandstand and dancing platform. Many a sinners has been shaken up and steadied down to a new order of life.
There is nothing narrow or intolerant about Watters and its community. The festive pleasure seeker and the devout worshiper are alike welcomed and made to feel at home. This was noticeable twice during a recent week, when a protracted meeting was in full swing at the campground about 100 yards east of Watters while the coloired folks enjoyed' themselves in Pecan park 100 yards west without any conflict of interests or enjoyment
We are a cosmopolitan people
Visitors to Watters can always join heartily in singing "I have been there and still would go" as it supplies unexpected sensations and revelation to the "cribbed cabined and confined" denizens of the city and the residents of less God-favored sections of the country.
A brief description of the more interesting scenes near Watters are now in order. The first place of interest to the holiday maker is Pecan park, which adjoins the depot and covers about ten acres. It looks as if specially designed for picnic purposes being studed with noble pecan trees many of which would be in full bearing when Columbus said to the king of Spain: ''I will go and discover America."
Under the umbrageous limbs of one of these patriarchs, Capt. Leitnaker erected a neat, sensational and commodious bandstand and platform which will be found equally well adapted for' social political and religious festivals. Benches and tables are supplied free, 'pro bono pulblico'.
Within the park is a spring of never-failing water of the purest brand. If Watters had nothing beyond' the park as an attraction for pleasure seekers, it would have a solid and sufficient excuse for inviting strangers out; but with an aggregation of natural beauties and scenes made famous (locally) in pre-state and antebellum times she should become the Mecca of pleasure seeking pilgrims.
Within a mile of the park can be found bits" of scenery and historical spots that may some day inspire a latter-dav Cooper and Sir Walter Scott. Old settlers have thrilling tales to tell of adventures in combats with Indians who had their headquarters at a spring which forms the head of Walnut creek at Duval, and they point out spots where settlers were scalped and red men dispatched to the happy hunting ground. Innumerable mounds adorn or disfigure the landscape below which the warriors' mortal remains together with those of their faithful ponies and other personal belongings still lie.
Leaving Watters and following the course of Walnut creek in a westerly direction the traveler with an eye for the beautiful and a slightly impressionable imagination will find scenes that will serve as a good substitute for the fabled beauties of more fashionable resorts in other parts of the world. The views are inspiring and suggestive rather than over-awing. Here you get hints of mighty canyons and dizzy peaks as you look upon the towering lichen-covered bluffs that rise above the dark and gloomy caves. Over one of these bluffs you will be told that a Comanche chief hard pressed by a party of settlers whose homes had been raided leapt for life and falling about 150 feet found a hard rock bottom and death.
Close by the spot is a cavern known as the "Robbers' cave" which is believed to be connected with the Sam Bass cave at McNeil three miles distant. Its extent and interior arrangements still remain a mystery in spite of the enterprise of many adventurous spirits who have Sinbad tales to tell of what they saw or imagined they saw. In the course of their explorations. A little further on in the bottom of the creek is a large boulder surrounded by dry sand and pebbly shingle except in times of flood known as the "popping rock." As tradition says that one of our old governors there "popped tho question" to his loved one while they sat there enjoying the beauties of nature and each others' society. As the popper was perfectly satisfied with the reply, many lovesick swains have by one subterfuge and another lured their loved ones to the same spot and the result has never been known to be unfavorable. In fact a well known geologist has declared that the popping rock of Walnut is almost identical in character with the Blarney stone of Kilarney.
A few yards further west the course of the creek is barred with an utmost perpendicular wall of rock which in flood times forms a miniature Niagara and causes an atmospheric disturbance that can be heard at a great distance. When the creek is in flood many people come to see the falls of Walnut and seeing them feel repaid.
These are but a few of the interesting places in the district but there is practically no limit to them. Not only will those tired with the confinement of the city enjoy the freedom of country life but the student the artist the naturalist and the scientist will each find gratification and reward for a day's outing in this favored district. It is the fashion of the day for people to travel great distances at great cost and inconvenience to "do" scenes rendered famous in song and story while they remain utterly oblivious of greater natural treasures close at home. --AN OBSERVER.

So there you have a good description of what the place was like. Now what kinds of events took place there? Well from about 1897 to about 1902 there was an annual Labor Day event that attracted thousands. This is a page of the Statesman from 1902 that is too long to copypaste but describes 10000 people filling the park for the festivities. After a parade downtown they took the train to Watters Park, and got rained out later in the evening, having to wait for the train in the mud. Similar events took place in 1901 the year before.
However, around 1902 or 1903 everything changed for Watters Park. Asphalt was found seeping into the creek and that led to much speculation that there might be undiscovered oil deposits underground. There was a land rush as this 1903 article talks about, including interest from Standard Oil. By the end of 1903 the bandstand and pavillion had been taken down and there was barely an acre that hadn't been leased to oil drillers. This activity apparently went on well into the 1920s as this 1925 article tells us. But as we all know from the lack of oil wells in the area today, apparently they found nothing worthwhile.
As the TSHA article linked earlier says, the end was nigh for Watters Park:

During and following World War I the tourist industry diminished, and the park was mostly used by residents. During the Great Depression many of these moved to other communities, such as Dessau, Austin, and Pflugerville. The school closed after the war, and children were sent to Summit School, a mile south of the community. Additional depopulation took place during and after World War II. Most of the structures were abandoned and eventually collapsed. Some families remained on the land until death or hard times caused their departure. By 1980 only one family descended from original residents occupied the townsite. During the 1970s commercial structures were built in the townsite. More recently, the construction of a north extension of Loop 1 from U.S. Highway 183 to Burnet Road caused the remaining family to depart and destroyed a large part of the buried remains of the town. Archeological and archival investigations of the community were conducted by the Texas Department of Highways in advance of construction. Housing developments have eaten away at the edges of the original site. Little remains today except Waters Park Road, the dam over the creek, and portions of the baseball field (that's mostly gone now too).

That's all for today. I don't have any photos for Bonus Pics so I'll link a few Bonus Articles.
Bonus Article #1 - What a Statesman reporter saw on an excursion train trip to Marble Falls on the Austin & North Western Railroad - September 12, 1889
Bonus Article #2 - Advertisement in Swedish for a concert in Watters Park from a Swedish-language newspaper called The Texas Posten - August 9, 1900
Bonus Article #3 - "One Killed in Centex Car Violence" (Collision with Granite Flatcar) - January 15, 1955
Bonus Article #4 - Ad for "Grand Labor Day Celebration" (in Watters Park) - September 3, 1900
Bonus Article #5 - "Oil Boom Promised for Watters Park" - June 4, 1903

Thank you for the feedback to Ch.1 where we were introduced to a murder mystery in the Drukhari capital. In chapter 2 we get a glimpse of life outside of the grand spires of the Kabals.
A Red Hand Weeps Ch 2. A walk on the promenade
The Grand Promenade was a dangerous place, even by the standards of a city of dangers. While it’s danger was not cause enough for note, the particular type of danger was. The promenade sat almost equidistant from the vast collusiums and drug factories of the Wych cults, the true space portals of the Kabalite raiding fleets and the pits of the Haemonculus flesh-sculptors. This equidistance from the three main power brokers resulted in a convergence of trade. Everyone would eventually have cause to walk the promenade and it is this that gave it such a particular type of danger; that of density. This many Drukhari in once place, all looking to their own purposes, their own plots, made it a spectacularly dangerous place.
In the unfathomable vastness of the pocket universe that made up the capital city of the Drukhari race it was rare for any place to be considered crowded. The largest crowds would only gather for the return of notable slave raids, or in the collusiums during blood games, but these were more the exception than the rule, except for the Grand Promenade, where it was always busy.
The stone slabs that made up the wide walkway were interrupted by jutting spike spires, their purpose ostensibly being to discourage hellions from using the wide space as a racetrack. Each spire was many stories high, studded along its length with wickedly barbed spikes. In the perpetual twilight cast by the captured suns figures could be seen hanging. Even the superlative eyesight of the Drukhari would be hard pressed to tell if those hanging figures had been flug their from even greater heights during games between Hellion gangs, or if they were occupied by gargoyle still Scourge information traders, watching the comings and goings of their ground bound kin, sifting the vastness of movement bellow for any information that others might pay well to know.
A steady flow of bodies flowed along the walkway of the Grand Promenade, a mix of Drukhari, Alien mercenaries, slave servants, and others whose fate had deposited into Commorragh. The ebbs and flows of traffic was mirrored by the river that seeped alongside.
The canal was filled with perfumed narcotics and delicate contact hallucinogens at its web portal source near the flesh palaces and towers of the Kabals. With a constant thundering crash the waterfall poured through a vast, hovering webway gate. It’s unending flow harvested from an ancient maiden world seeded during the heights of the Asuryanii empire.
By the time it had run this far it was a dangerous multicoloured flow. Polluted uniquely by each city quarter it had traveled through. It quickly became a dangerous mix of acidic off run which would eat away at anything which fell in. More than a few partially dissolved corpses floated in it for now, but by the time it had flowed past the Haemonculus covens further downstream even the bones would have melted away.
Along the riverbank, squeezed between the jetties with their moored pleasure boats and idling Venom craft, makeshift stands hosted traders of all types.
Raid dealers offered the opportunity of work for all. High risk, small reward jobs was all they usually offered, but everyone needed chits. Attended by an ever changing flock of Scourges; delivering and receiving message cylinders full of raid times, mercenary requirements and more specialist opportunities for those in need of funds.
Trinket sellers bought and sold with little regard for who legitimately may once have owned the items in question. Some tried to pass off common gems as still fresh soulstones, or weakly glowing blades as power-swords taken from barbarian Mon-keigh.
Wracks worked in teams, harvesting decomposing bodies from the canal with hooked pikes, avoiding the Hellions who periodically dive down on their screaming skyboards to harass them before rising back up to mock fight amongst themselves.
The banks teamed with all those who sold to the lowest in the city.
Rushing past, eyes down, slaves ran about their masters business being careful not to draw attention. Small groups of Drukhari would talk as they walked, sharing gossip, while others glanced at the wares on sale; searching for items of interest.
All, slave and Drukhari, alike parted before the small unit of bodyguards marching forward, splinter rifles held close to their chests, their off-white armoured helms emblazoned with a green teardrop jem declaring their status and allegiance to the Kabal of Silver Blades. A skinny Drukhari noble walked between them, his eyes focused on the backs of a pair of Drukhari studying a merchant’s table of knives.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Are you expecting company?” The merchant asked her browsing customers, looking past them at the approaching group.
The Wyche stopped playing with the dagger she had been balancing and turned to see who the merchant was referring to. Clad in a crimson plate of segmented armour along one arm and little else her pale flesh was unscared, indicating youth or skill, the ageless nature of the Drukhari made it hard to discern which.
“Oh look,” she said to her companion “it’s Masranaer.”
A gauntleted hand dropped to the hilt of an ever present blast pistol.
“Reborn again?” He responded.
They both turned fully to face the subject of their conversation.
“Reborn again,” he answered himself, “will his father never get bored of wasting souls on that whelp?”
With a wry smile Tahlalia shook her head in response, her long crimson braid mimicked the movement; rippling along her exposed back.
Masranaer strode towards them, flanked all around by his bodyguards, As he walked his delicate lace robes parted to reveal the fine ghostplate armour he wore underneath, the hilt of a venom blade visible sheathed at his waist.
The bodyguards began to fan out, bullying all around to the side, clearing a space and forming a circle of spectators as bustling shoppers paused to discover the source of this commotion.
Izenrad and Tahlalia found themselves facing the Trueborn noble alone, surrounded by a ring of curious onlookers.
“Well this is your fight,” said Tahlahlia, “not mine, but I’ll watch your back.”
Izenrad raised an eyebrow at Tahlalias’ words, she grinned back at him
“I’ll watch your back,” She kissed him lightly on the tattoo of a bleeding heart on his cheek “but I didn’t say I would do anything… Well, I might take that nice blast pistol off your corpse.”
With that she junatally backed away to join the crowd of spectators.
They stood in the cleared circle, faceing one and another, the Trueborn noble and the warrior.
“Blades only you coward!” Masranaer shouted, gesturing towards his bodyguards who would clearly enforce this rule of his.
“By the dark Muses! Again?” Izenrad reluctantly took his hand off his blast pistol and drew his sword. A long, straight blade, no sheen of poison, no soft flicker of inlaid technology, just a midnight black that ate the light about it, giving off no reflection.
His action was mirrored by the trueborn, who held in guard before him a curved venom blade. A sickly green edge promising a painful, certain death from even a graze.
“It is your turn to die, Izenrad, but never fear, I shall have you brought back by the clumsiest, stupidest Haemonculus in my father's employ. I will keep your malformed incarnation in a small box beside my throne to waste away before my eyes.”
Izenrad twirled his black blade. “You always did talk too much, maybe that is why you never learnt anything.”
“No more lesions from you Izenrad, no more dull deaths for me, no more!” Masranaer shouted back, enraged. “Poison will burn your veins.
Izenrad stood still as the noble started towards him. With just over two sword lengths separating them the slow advance turned into a charge, an attempt to catch his opponent off guard. What might have seemed to be a wild lunge was pulled just short, rather than an attack it was an attempt to force a rushed reaction.
Resisting the urge to accept the invitation to rush, Izenrad parried and faced down the charge. The second strike was delivered with the same careless abandon, forcing another parry.
Izenrad continued to block blow after blow, carefully side stepping to reposition himself in the centre of their field of battle. This new style was confusing, very unlike the Trueborn style he had faced down numerous times before. The wild attacks invited multiple counter attacks. Perhaps Masranaer has faith in his ghostplate armour to protect him from any counter blow?
Masranaer turned each block into another spinning attack, sacrificing finesse for raw speed, he spun towards Izenrad sweeping his sword in a wide and low arc.
Izenrad stepped backwards to avoid the relentless onslaught, despite turning aside each strike he was being forced back. Cautiously he refused to take advantage of the numerous openings his opponent offered him.
A wild straight thrust caused him to pivot and spin away, letting Masranaer’s momentum carry him forward. The very tip of the thrusting venom blade nicked the face of one of the onlookers who began shrieking as their flesh was eaten away.
Izenrad stepped aside to avoid the back swing as his opponent came back at him. These wild swings were too wild, just a touch of exaggeration to each swing, even Masranaer was not that bad a swordsman, but he was just as dangerous and deceitful as any Drukhari.
Izenrad caught the swing of Masranaer’s venom blade upon his own black sword, fixing them for a moment. Taking advantage of this split second he stepped inside Masranaer guard and delivered a blow to his chest with the flat of his hand.
He felt the force of the blow dissipate as if he was striking a body of viscous liquid. He felt it embrace his hand and resist him. This moment of unbalance was almost enough, the slight slowness forced upon him as he overwhelmed the force holding his hand almost cost him his head. Izenrad was forced to turn his delicate disengage into a full backwards retreat, dropping to one knee to duck a blow and turning it into a backwards roll.
This was the trick, the ghostplate armour was not the only defence this Trueborn had brought to the fight. He also wore a Oobleck field, this device would absorb any physical force and turn energetically solid. The greater the force the more solid the field and grip. While even a basic splinter pistol would have enough energy to overwhelm the delicate generators that powered such a device, his unaugmented sword blows would not. If he tried to land a blow it would most likely become trapped at the point of impact leaving him helpless.
Masranaer’s wild attacks continued, as Izenrad played for time, trying to think of a suitable counter. These attacks no longer felt careless but rather confident.
Izenrad blocked another blow as he regained his feet
Izenrad threw his sword unexpectedly at Masranaer’s face as a desperate distraction. The flying sword was easily batted down by the venom blade, hitting the stone at his feet armoured.
This gave Izenrad a moment to act. His right hand came flying up, palm open striking the back of his opponent's sword hand. The Oobleck field activated, slowing and sticking this strike in place. Solidifying Izenrad’s grip before his left arm forearm came striking down on the elbow joint before wrapping under Masranaer’s arm to grab his own wrist. Locking the limbs together in a knot of joints, bound by grip and ancient technology.
The venom blade stayed locked between the two struggling fighters, helplessly held in Masranaer’s trapped hand. Twisting Izenrad stopped the struggling Trueborn from being able to bring his other hand to snatch the blade away, instead suffering the ineffectual blows to the back of his head.
“So no new skill, just new tricks” Izenrad goaded, bruitally straightening his arms, increasing the pressure on the back of his opponent's elbow until, with a satisfying crack, he felt it break.
With a wordless cry of rage and pain Masranaer helplessly dropped his blade.
Izenrad, dropped to one knee and twisted, forcing the screaming Drukhari noble to the floor even as he untangled his arms slowly, allowing his grip and grip of the energy field to release them both as he stood
Masranaer spat obscenities, clutching his broken wrist with his good hand, “I will eat your soul Izenrad, I will hear your screams for a hundred years as I flay you for bed sheets, I will turn your feet into doorstops, your hands into door handles, I will decorate my chamber with your body!”
Ignoring the various threats, Izenrad flicked up his sword with a boot tip from where it lay. Dropping down to straddle his prone enemy he hovered the blade over the ghostplate armour.
“This will be the thirteenth time I have killed you,” Izenrad tiredly said “or you can let this ridiculous vendetta go?”
The only response was more threats, followed with some vicious blows from the still good arm to Izenrad’s head. The Trueborn noble was too consumed with impotent rage to listen, let alone respond coherently. His squinting eyes went wide as he felt the tip of the black blade slowly begin to press past his ghostplate.
Izenrad slowly pressed the blade down, gently enough to not trigger the Oobleck field. Inextricably the blade bit into flesh beneath the energy field and armour.
The stream of threats turned into a constant high pitched scream of pain.
Izenrad panted, hunched over the pommel of his black sword, the blade had hit stone and stopped. The screaming had also finally stopped. He took the risk of catching his breath before pulling himself to his feet.
The crowd has already begun to move on, the entertainment concluded. Up above some scourges would already be winging their way through the city to sell news of what had happened to interested parties.
“I think he’s dead,” Tahlalia dryly commented, emerging from the dispersing crowd to stand beside him “do you think his father will ever just let him die?”
The bodyguards who had watched over this combat without interfering approached the corpse of their charge. In less than a day a Haemonculus of his father’s Kabal would be working to bring Masranaer back to life, over painful years Masranaer’s soul would be dragged back from the brink.
One of the bodyguards motioned them away as Tahlalia looked longingly at the dropped venom sword, before it too was collected along with the corpse.
Izenrad and Tahlalia both stepped away to allow them to collect the body.
“Why hasn’t he just paid someone to kill you?” Tahlalia queried.
“His father won’t let him. It would be too embarrassing to have the son of the great and mighty Archon of the Silver Blades admit that he cannot kill a common vatborn. Can you imagine what our social betters would say about that?”
Tahlalia smirked at his response “Do you think we can get back to work now? We need to find some paying work. Who knows, if we find a good job you might even be able to buy a real sword?”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my sword, it cuts like anything else.”
A raised eyebrow and sarcastic look was her only response.
“Give me your chits from the next job and I will but a new sword, how about that?” he replied defensively “Now, how about we go over to that Raid dealer who was watching and sort out a job.”
Izenrad pointed towards a Drukhari on a platform flanked by a pair of Scourges, holding confidential lists of upcoming raids and the mercenaries required to supplement kabalit troops. Once each scroll had been read and replied to it was placed in a cylinder encoded with complex poisons, the antidotes known only to the intended recipients. All gave the Raid dealer room, avoiding his ever watchful guards and the flock of Scourges’ who pitched about him. Even the Hellions racing along the canal avoided invading his space. No one would be willing to draw the attention of the servants of the eyries.
“A Raid dealer?” Tahlalia complained, “You know this won’t pay much.”
“Well, unless you plan to start dancing and I begin whoring we don’t have a great deal of choice,” was his snide reply.
Pushing their way through the crowds, Tahlalia grabbed Izenrads arm.
“Remember,” She hissed “you didn’t make enough on the last raid to pay for a private Haemonculus contract, and I am not relying on the good graces of my Hekatrix to see me pushed to the top of the resurrection list if I fall. So I decide what we do.”
Izenrad nodded and let her take the last few steps to the Raid dealers platform.
Focused on his scrolls, scribbling notes he did not look up at them but rather greeted them with a curt question.
“Work?”
“Yep. Looking for a realspace raid. Nothing internal, no protection or enforcement work.”
It had been so long since the pair had bathed in death that the added risk of a realspace raid was quickly being outweighed by the need to refresh their souls.
“Him too?”
“Me too,” Izenrad replied.
“Ok, one warrior, one wytch, who are you affiliated with?”
“Cult of the Twisted Knife, and he is a stray,” Tahlalia answered for them both.
“Lets see.” He scrolled through his lists, muttering to himself. “I have a raid that needs some squads bulking out, badly enough that they will probably overlook a stray. As a bonus it is affiliated with your cult, Wych. Leaves soon too.”
“Sounds good,” Tahlalia said.
“Pay is, .4 of unit take for you, wych, .1 tithed directly to your cult as standard and .2 for the stray,” the Raid dealers gestured dismissively at Izenrad “with a bonus of 15% of value for any personal trophies. Paid in chits of the Kabal of the Red Hand.”
The Kabal of the Red Hand was one of the smallest in the great city, reflected in the size of its chits. The smaller the Kabal, the lower the value of the chits it would guarantee against its slave holdings. The more powerful the Kabal the great the value of its smallest chits would be. It was an unfortunate truth for the weaker Kabals that often they could not afford to buy in bulk and so they required smaller denominations for trade. The Kabal of the Black Heart would issue no chit worth less than one to one on the life of a slave so great was its power.
“That’s low.” Tahlalia complained, raising an eyebrow as she edged forward trying to see what the Raid dealer was reading.
The Raid dealer clutched the scroll closer to his chest and scowled at the two of them. “It’s low because it’s a big raid, with weak opposition. You have a good chance of making it back with a big haul and alive.”
Izenrad glanced at Tahlalia, tilted his head to the side and shrugged.
“Your call, flesh is flesh.”
Tahlalia looked at the Raid dealer who was holding his quill waiting for an answer.
“Ok, put us down for the raid.”
“Delightful, it is sure to be a success now.” He replied sarcastically. “Pier 17 at the Dark Star Port, be there by seventh cycle of deadsuns eclipse. Names?”
Izenrad glanced up at the enslaved suns of Commorragh as Tahlalia provided the final details. The pitiful orbs held in the chains of gravity technology millennia ago when they were first repurposed to provide energy and the false light which bathed the great city in perpetual twilight. The Deadsun, named after the Kabal who captured it, was just passing behind the Poison-Thorn sun, likewise named after its captors, the raid would leave when six more suns had eclipsed it.
As a sun would reach the end of its life the Kabals powerful enough to lead a sunraid would vie for the right to capture a new sun. Thereby ensuring their name would be known by all who toiled in the twilight of the city, and bask in the humiliated thanks of all other failed applicants. The risk of such public humiliation put off all but the most powerful or foolhardy Kabals. The Kabal of the Deadsun had been the most recent to receive the thanks and glares of the bested Kabals.
“Come on,” Tahlalia interrupted his musings “we have just enough time to equip ourselves, buy some drugs and be there a bit early to find our units.”
The two of them walked back into the maelstrom. Behind them the Raid dealer made a final note on a scroll, rolled it up and sealed it in a cylinder. Handing it to a Scourge who cut his hand on one of the sharp edges, showed the Raid dealer the bleeding hand and took to the sky. The recipient of the message would be waiting with the antidote, ensuring not only that it reached its intended recipient, but that it did so in a timely manner.
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Soaring about the twisted streets the Scourge thrilled as a wild updraft helped her rapidly gain height. The price she had paid the flesh crafting Haemonculus covens for her wings and the musculatar to use them always felt worth it when she flew. She kept her shard carbine close, ready to dispatch any who might be foolish enough to attempt to waylay her on her way to her destination. Ahead of her she spied her goal; one of the lesser coliseums of the Wych cult of the Hag Sisters, and the eventual recipient of her message, the Lord Archon of the Kabal of the Red Hand.

Chapter 1. can be found here and shout out to u/GazingWing who I promised to give a heads up when I posted this.
In chapter 1 we are introduced to the mystery and in chapter 2 we get a glimpse of life outside of the grand spires of the Kabals.
A Red Hand Weeps Ch 2. A walk on the promenade
The Grand Promenade was a dangerous place, even by the standards of a city of dangers. While it’s danger was not cause enough for note, the particular type of danger was. The promenade sat almost equidistant from the vast collusiums and drug factories of the Wych cults, the true space portals of the Kabalite raiding fleets and the pits of the Haemonculus flesh-sculptors. This equidistance from the three main power brokers resulted in a convergence of trade. Everyone would eventually have cause to walk the promenade and it is this that gave it such a particular type of danger; that of density. This many Drukhari in once place, all looking to their own purposes, their own plots, made it a spectacularly dangerous place.
In the unfathomable vastness of the pocket universe that made up the capital city of the Drukhari race it was rare for any place to be considered crowded. The largest crowds would only gather for the return of notable slave raids, or in the collusiums during blood games, but these were more the exception than the rule, except for the Grand Promenade, where it was always busy.
The stone slabs that made up the wide walkway were interrupted by jutting spike spires, their purpose ostensibly being to discourage hellions from using the wide space as a racetrack. Each spire was many stories high, studded along its length with wickedly barbed spikes. In the perpetual twilight cast by the captured suns figures could be seen hanging. Even the superlative eyesight of the Drukhari would be hard pressed to tell if those hanging figures had been flug their from even greater heights during games between Hellion gangs, or if they were occupied by gargoyle still Scourge information traders, watching the comings and goings of their ground bound kin, sifting the vastness of movement bellow for any information that others might pay well to know.
A steady flow of bodies flowed along the walkway of the Grand Promenade, a mix of Drukhari, Alien mercenaries, slave servants, and others whose fate had deposited into Commorragh. The ebbs and flows of traffic was mirrored by the river that seeped alongside.
The canal was filled with perfumed narcotics and delicate contact hallucinogens at its web portal source near the flesh palaces and towers of the Kabals. With a constant thundering crash the waterfall poured through a vast, hovering webway gate. It’s unending flow harvested from an ancient maiden world seeded during the heights of the Asuryanii empire.
By the time it had run this far it was a dangerous multicoloured flow. Polluted uniquely by each city quarter it had traveled through. It quickly became a dangerous mix of acidic off run which would eat away at anything which fell in. More than a few partially dissolved corpses floated in it for now, but by the time it had flowed past the Haemonculus covens further downstream even the bones would have melted away.
Along the riverbank, squeezed between the jetties with their moored pleasure boats and idling Venom craft, makeshift stands hosted traders of all types.
Raid dealers offered the opportunity of work for all. High risk, small reward jobs was all they usually offered, but everyone needed chits. Attended by an ever changing flock of Scourges; delivering and receiving message cylinders full of raid times, mercenary requirements and more specialist opportunities for those in need of funds.
Trinket sellers bought and sold with little regard for who legitimately may once have owned the items in question. Some tried to pass off common gems as still fresh soulstones, or weakly glowing blades as power-swords taken from barbarian Mon-keigh.
Wracks worked in teams, harvesting decomposing bodies from the canal with hooked pikes, avoiding the Hellions who periodically dive down on their screaming skyboards to harass them before rising back up to mock fight amongst themselves.
The banks teamed with all those who sold to the lowest in the city.
Rushing past, eyes down, slaves ran about their masters business being careful not to draw attention. Small groups of Drukhari would talk as they walked, sharing gossip, while others glanced at the wares on sale; searching for items of interest.
All, slave and Drukhari, alike parted before the small unit of bodyguards marching forward, splinter rifles held close to their chests, their off-white armoured helms emblazoned with a green teardrop jem declaring their status and allegiance to the Kabal of Silver Blades. A skinny Drukhari noble walked between them, his eyes focused on the backs of a pair of Drukhari studying a merchant’s table of knives.
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“Are you expecting company?” The merchant asked her browsing customers, looking past them at the approaching group.
The Wyche stopped playing with the dagger she had been balancing and turned to see who the merchant was referring to. Clad in a crimson plate of segmented armour along one arm and little else her pale flesh was unscared, indicating youth or skill, the ageless nature of the Drukhari made it hard to discern which.
“Oh look,” she said to her companion “it’s Masranaer.”
A gauntleted hand dropped to the hilt of an ever present blast pistol.
“Reborn again?” He responded.
They both turned fully to face the subject of their conversation.
“Reborn again,” he answered himself, “will his father never get bored of wasting souls on that whelp?”
With a wry smile Tahlalia shook her head in response, her long crimson braid mimicked the movement; rippling along her exposed back.
Masranaer strode towards them, flanked all around by his bodyguards, As he walked his delicate lace robes parted to reveal the fine ghostplate armour he wore underneath, the hilt of a venom blade visible sheathed at his waist.
The bodyguards began to fan out, bullying all around to the side, clearing a space and forming a circle of spectators as bustling shoppers paused to discover the source of this commotion.
Izenrad and Tahlalia found themselves facing the Trueborn noble alone, surrounded by a ring of curious onlookers.
“Well this is your fight,” said Tahlahlia, “not mine, but I’ll watch your back.”
Izenrad raised an eyebrow at Tahlalias’ words, she grinned back at him
“I’ll watch your back,” She kissed him lightly on the tattoo of a bleeding heart on his cheek “but I didn’t say I would do anything… Well, I might take that nice blast pistol off your corpse.”
With that she junatally backed away to join the crowd of spectators.
They stood in the cleared circle, faceing one and another, the Trueborn noble and the warrior.
“Blades only you coward!” Masranaer shouted, gesturing towards his bodyguards who would clearly enforce this rule of his.
“By the dark Muses! Again?” Izenrad reluctantly took his hand off his blast pistol and drew his sword. A long, straight blade, no sheen of poison, no soft flicker of inlaid technology, just a midnight black that ate the light about it, giving off no reflection.
His action was mirrored by the trueborn, who held in guard before him a curved venom blade. A sickly green edge promising a painful, certain death from even a graze.
“It is your turn to die, Izenrad, but never fear, I shall have you brought back by the clumsiest, stupidest Haemonculus in my father's employ. I will keep your malformed incarnation in a small box beside my throne to waste away before my eyes.”
Izenrad twirled his black blade. “You always did talk too much, maybe that is why you never learnt anything.”
“No more lesions from you Izenrad, no more dull deaths for me, no more!” Masranaer shouted back, enraged. “Poison will burn your veins.
Izenrad stood still as the noble started towards him. With just over two sword lengths separating them the slow advance turned into a charge, an attempt to catch his opponent off guard. What might have seemed to be a wild lunge was pulled just short, rather than an attack it was an attempt to force a rushed reaction.
Resisting the urge to accept the invitation to rush, Izenrad parried and faced down the charge. The second strike was delivered with the same careless abandon, forcing another parry.
Izenrad continued to block blow after blow, carefully side stepping to reposition himself in the centre of their field of battle. This new style was confusing, very unlike the Trueborn style he had faced down numerous times before. The wild attacks invited multiple counter attacks. Perhaps Masranaer has faith in his ghostplate armour to protect him from any counter blow?
Masranaer turned each block into another spinning attack, sacrificing finesse for raw speed, he spun towards Izenrad sweeping his sword in a wide and low arc.
Izenrad stepped backwards to avoid the relentless onslaught, despite turning aside each strike he was being forced back. Cautiously he refused to take advantage of the numerous openings his opponent offered him.
A wild straight thrust caused him to pivot and spin away, letting Masranaer’s momentum carry him forward. The very tip of the thrusting venom blade nicked the face of one of the onlookers who began shrieking as their flesh was eaten away.
Izenrad stepped aside to avoid the back swing as his opponent came back at him. These wild swings were too wild, just a touch of exaggeration to each swing, even Masranaer was not that bad a swordsman, but he was just as dangerous and deceitful as any Drukhari.
Izenrad caught the swing of Masranaer’s venom blade upon his own black sword, fixing them for a moment. Taking advantage of this split second he stepped inside Masranaer guard and delivered a blow to his chest with the flat of his hand.
He felt the force of the blow dissipate as if he was striking a body of viscous liquid. He felt it embrace his hand and resist him. This moment of unbalance was almost enough, the slight slowness forced upon him as he overwhelmed the force holding his hand almost cost him his head. Izenrad was forced to turn his delicate disengage into a full backwards retreat, dropping to one knee to duck a blow and turning it into a backwards roll.
This was the trick, the ghostplate armour was not the only defence this Trueborn had brought to the fight. He also wore a Oobleck field, this device would absorb any physical force and turn energetically solid. The greater the force the more solid the field and grip. While even a basic splinter pistol would have enough energy to overwhelm the delicate generators that powered such a device, his unaugmented sword blows would not. If he tried to land a blow it would most likely become trapped at the point of impact leaving him helpless.
Masranaer’s wild attacks continued, as Izenrad played for time, trying to think of a suitable counter. These attacks no longer felt careless but rather confident.
Izenrad blocked another blow as he regained his feet
Izenrad threw his sword unexpectedly at Masranaer’s face as a desperate distraction. The flying sword was easily batted down by the venom blade, hitting the stone at his feet armoured.
This gave Izenrad a moment to act. His right hand came flying up, palm open striking the back of his opponent's sword hand. The Oobleck field activated, slowing and sticking this strike in place. Solidifying Izenrad’s grip before his left arm forearm came striking down on the elbow joint before wrapping under Masranaer’s arm to grab his own wrist. Locking the limbs together in a knot of joints, bound by grip and ancient technology.
The venom blade stayed locked between the two struggling fighters, helplessly held in Masranaer’s trapped hand. Twisting Izenrad stopped the struggling Trueborn from being able to bring his other hand to snatch the blade away, instead suffering the ineffectual blows to the back of his head.
“So no new skill, just new tricks” Izenrad goaded, bruitally straightening his arms, increasing the pressure on the back of his opponent's elbow until, with a satisfying crack, he felt it break.
With a wordless cry of rage and pain Masranaer helplessly dropped his blade.
Izenrad, dropped to one knee and twisted, forcing the screaming Drukhari noble to the floor even as he untangled his arms slowly, allowing his grip and grip of the energy field to release them both as he stood
Masranaer spat obscenities, clutching his broken wrist with his good hand, “I will eat your soul Izenrad, I will hear your screams for a hundred years as I flay you for bed sheets, I will turn your feet into doorstops, your hands into door handles, I will decorate my chamber with your body!”
Ignoring the various threats, Izenrad flicked up his sword with a boot tip from where it lay. Dropping down to straddle his prone enemy he hovered the blade over the ghostplate armour.
“This will be the thirteenth time I have killed you,” Izenrad tiredly said “or you can let this ridiculous vendetta go?”
The only response was more threats, followed with some vicious blows from the still good arm to Izenrad’s head. The Trueborn noble was too consumed with impotent rage to listen, let alone respond coherently. His squinting eyes went wide as he felt the tip of the black blade slowly begin to press past his ghostplate.
Izenrad slowly pressed the blade down, gently enough to not trigger the Oobleck field. Inextricably the blade bit into flesh beneath the energy field and armour.
The stream of threats turned into a constant high pitched scream of pain.
Izenrad panted, hunched over the pommel of his black sword, the blade had hit stone and stopped. The screaming had also finally stopped. He took the risk of catching his breath before pulling himself to his feet.
The crowd has already begun to move on, the entertainment concluded. Up above some scourges would already be winging their way through the city to sell news of what had happened to interested parties.
“I think he’s dead,” Tahlalia dryly commented, emerging from the dispersing crowd to stand beside him “do you think his father will ever just let him die?”
The bodyguards who had watched over this combat without interfering approached the corpse of their charge. In less than a day a Haemonculus of his father’s Kabal would be working to bring Masranaer back to life, over painful years Masranaer’s soul would be dragged back from the brink.
One of the bodyguards motioned them away as Tahlalia looked longingly at the dropped venom sword, before it too was collected along with the corpse.
Izenrad and Tahlalia both stepped away to allow them to collect the body.
“Why hasn’t he just paid someone to kill you?” Tahlalia queried.
“His father won’t let him. It would be too embarrassing to have the son of the great and mighty Archon of the Silver Blades admit that he cannot kill a common vatborn. Can you imagine what our social betters would say about that?”
Tahlalia smirked at his response “Do you think we can get back to work now? We need to find some paying work. Who knows, if we find a good job you might even be able to buy a real sword?”
“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with my sword, it cuts like anything else.”
A raised eyebrow and sarcastic look was her only response.
“Give me your chits from the next job and I will but a new sword, how about that?” he replied defensively “Now, how about we go over to that Raid dealer who was watching and sort out a job.”
Izenrad pointed towards a Drukhari on a platform flanked by a pair of Scourges, holding confidential lists of upcoming raids and the mercenaries required to supplement kabalit troops. Once each scroll had been read and replied to it was placed in a cylinder encoded with complex poisons, the antidotes known only to the intended recipients. All gave the Raid dealer room, avoiding his ever watchful guards and the flock of Scourges’ who pitched about him. Even the Hellions racing along the canal avoided invading his space. No one would be willing to draw the attention of the servants of the eyries.
“A Raid dealer?” Tahlalia complained, “You know this won’t pay much.”
“Well, unless you plan to start dancing and I begin whoring we don’t have a great deal of choice,” was his snide reply.
Pushing their way through the crowds, Tahlalia grabbed Izenrads arm.
“Remember,” She hissed “you didn’t make enough on the last raid to pay for a private Haemonculus contract, and I am not relying on the good graces of my Hekatrix to see me pushed to the top of the resurrection list if I fall. So I decide what we do.”
Izenrad nodded and let her take the last few steps to the Raid dealers platform.
Focused on his scrolls, scribbling notes he did not look up at them but rather greeted them with a curt question.
“Work?”
“Yep. Looking for a realspace raid. Nothing internal, no protection or enforcement work.”
It had been so long since the pair had bathed in death that the added risk of a realspace raid was quickly being outweighed by the need to refresh their souls.
“Him too?”
“Me too,” Izenrad replied.
“Ok, one warrior, one wytch, who are you affiliated with?”
“Cult of the Twisted Knife, and he is a stray,” Tahlalia answered for them both.
“Lets see.” He scrolled through his lists, muttering to himself. “I have a raid that needs some squads bulking out, badly enough that they will probably overlook a stray. As a bonus it is affiliated with your cult, Wych. Leaves soon too.”
“Sounds good,” Tahlalia said.
“Pay is, .4 of unit take for you, wych, .1 tithed directly to your cult as standard and .2 for the stray,” the Raid dealers gestured dismissively at Izenrad “with a bonus of 15% of value for any personal trophies. Paid in chits of the Kabal of the Red Hand.”
The Kabal of the Red Hand was one of the smallest in the great city, reflected in the size of its chits. The smaller the Kabal, the lower the value of the chits it would guarantee against its slave holdings. The more powerful the Kabal the great the value of its smallest chits would be. It was an unfortunate truth for the weaker Kabals that often they could not afford to buy in bulk and so they required smaller denominations for trade. The Kabal of the Black Heart would issue no chit worth less than one to one on the life of a slave so great was its power.
“That’s low.” Tahlalia complained, raising an eyebrow as she edged forward trying to see what the Raid dealer was reading.
The Raid dealer clutched the scroll closer to his chest and scowled at the two of them. “It’s low because it’s a big raid, with weak opposition. You have a good chance of making it back with a big haul and alive.”
Izenrad glanced at Tahlalia, tilted his head to the side and shrugged.
“Your call, flesh is flesh.”
Tahlalia looked at the Raid dealer who was holding his quill waiting for an answer.
“Ok, put us down for the raid.”
“Delightful, it is sure to be a success now.” He replied sarcastically. “Pier 17 at the Dark Star Port, be there by seventh cycle of deadsuns eclipse. Names?”
Izenrad glanced up at the enslaved suns of Commorragh as Tahlalia provided the final details. The pitiful orbs held in the chains of gravity technology millennia ago when they were first repurposed to provide energy and the false light which bathed the great city in perpetual twilight. The Deadsun, named after the Kabal who captured it, was just passing behind the Poison-Thorn sun, likewise named after its captors, the raid would leave when six more suns had eclipsed it.
As a sun would reach the end of its life the Kabals powerful enough to lead a sunraid would vie for the right to capture a new sun. Thereby ensuring their name would be known by all who toiled in the twilight of the city, and bask in the humiliated thanks of all other failed applicants. The risk of such public humiliation put off all but the most powerful or foolhardy Kabals. The Kabal of the Deadsun had been the most recent to receive the thanks and glares of the bested Kabals.
“Come on,” Tahlalia interrupted his musings “we have just enough time to equip ourselves, buy some drugs and be there a bit early to find our units.”
The two of them walked back into the maelstrom. Behind them the Raid dealer made a final note on a scroll, rolled it up and sealed it in a cylinder. Handing it to a Scourge who cut his hand on one of the sharp edges, showed the Raid dealer the bleeding hand and took to the sky. The recipient of the message would be waiting with the antidote, ensuring not only that it reached its intended recipient, but that it did so in a timely manner.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soaring about the twisted streets the Scourge thrilled as a wild updraft helped her rapidly gain height. The price she had paid the flesh crafting Haemonculus covens for her wings and the musculatar to use them always felt worth it when she flew. She kept her shard carbine close, ready to dispatch any who might be foolish enough to attempt to waylay her on her way to her destination. Ahead of her she spied her goal; one of the lesser coliseums of the Wych cult of the Hag Sisters, and the eventual recipient of her message, the Lord Archon of the Kabal of the Red Hand.

“Luella! You get back here now! It’s gonna be dark soon!”
Luella Jones was kneeled on a patch of ground with a handful of dirt. She turned her young face towards her mother’s voice and shouted, “I’m coming, mama!” She held the small pile of dirt close to her face and then blew with all her might. Tiny chunks of black earth went hurtling in all directions, revealing a tiny silver disc nestled in the palm of her hand, glinting under the deep orange sky. Luella clamped her hand around it and started running up the hill, bare feet padding along the still-warm grass, and found her mother standing by the woodshed.
“Mama! Look what I found!”
She held out the silver coin proudly, between her finger and them. It featured an owl’s head on the face, and around the rim were stamped the words ten cents.
Luella’s mother got a look of concern that flashed across her face. She got down on one knee and looked her daughter in the eye. “Luella, where did you find this? Because I don’t wanna think you might of stole it off somebody? That’s not the kind of thing we do. The Lord is watching your every move, you hear?”
Tears began to well in Luella’s eyes. ‘I ain’t stole from nobody, mama! I found it right down in the dirt! There wasn’t no one else around when I found it. I was just playing and I found it. I swear!”
“Oh, I believe you, darling.” Her mother hugged her tight. “You’re a good soul. I guess the Lord just smiled on you tonight. It’s our lucky day. Come on inside.”
Luella Jones followed her mother back to their home. Luella didn’t think of it as a big home (it wasn’t) or a small home (it was). It was just home. Home, framed from wood with mud to fill in the cracks. There was a wood stove that burned against one wall, and a table for eating their meals. In the other corner were the pallets topped with straw mats and knit blankets on which they slept. Her older brothers, Cassius and Lamar, were already sitting at the table.
“Why don’t you help me serve out dinner, Lu?” asked her mother.
So Luella assisted her mother getting their dinner together and putting it on their plates. They had stewed grits, with chunks of parsnip, and roasted rabbit that her brothers had snared that day. Luella even added some fresh dandelions that she had picked herself. Neither she nor her mother said anything about the dime.
They had finished eating when her father got home. He was weary and his face hung low. His food had already gotten cold but he sat down and ate it without complaint. Some days her father came home with a twinkle in his eye, ready to bounce her on his knee and tell stories. But she knew enough, at six years old, to tell that this was not one of those nights.
The next day, her mother walked her into town. They lived just outside the town of Compson in the state of Seminola. Luella didn’t think of it as a big town (it wasn’t) or a small town (it was). It was just town. The factory, where her father had left to work this morning, loomed over them to the west, sitting atop a hill. They walked along the main road, keeping pace with the horse-drawn wagons and ox-driven carts. They stepped up on the wooden sidewalk and headed toward Quentin’s General Foods, while Luella was chatting away.
“What can I get with my treasure, mama? I wanna get licorice, and lollipops, and gumdrops, and chocolate squares, and—”
“Luella….” Her mother looked at her seriously. “It’s a blessing that you found this money, but it’s a blessing that the Lord gave you. And the Lord doesn’t give us blessings so we can be selfish. Everyone needs to contribute to the family, and the family needs corn.”
Luella nodded solemnly, wiping away a tear when she thought her mother couldn’t see (she could).
Luella’s mother was named Annie-Mae, and she was the sort of strong, god-fearing woman who kept many families together in small towns across Seminola. So Annie-Mae went to the counter to speak with Quentin, and put the shiny dime down in front of him. “I need to get some corn, Quentin.”
“Sure thing, Annie-Mae,” said Quentin. “Is it just corn you’re after?”
Annie-Mae leaned in more closely. “The corn … and some little treat you think my young one might like.”
Quentin smiled. “I know just the thing.” He returned a moment later with a bag of corn and a glass bottle that was filled with a dark liquid and wrapped in a red label. “I just got the first shipment of this. They say it’s all the rage in New Calcedonia.” He popped the cap off the bottle and leaned over the counter to hand it to Luella. “It’s called Wicca-Cola. They say there’s magic in every bottle. No one knows how it works, but that’s what they say.”
Annie-Mae got an alarmed look on her face, and she spoke to Quentin in a low tone. “This isn’t some kind of dark, Satanic magic, is it?”
Quentin smiled. “I asked the same question of Reverend Alden when he bought a bottle yesterday. He took one sip and said there was nothing in it to offend the Lord.”
Annie-Mae then gave a relieved smile as she watched Luella head toward the door with her treat.
Luella took one sip and felt an utter shock to her system. There were bubbles in this strange liquid that burst when she swallowed and stung the roof of her mouth. And it was so sweet. Sweet like a caramel square except she could drink it. The first gulp stunned her so much she nearly dropped the bottle. But she wasn’t going to do that, because this was the reward for her hard won treasure. So she took a smaller sip the next time, and really enjoyed the flavour. The bubbles still stung her mouth, but she found she didn’t mind it. She stood outside the shop, sipping her Wicca-Cola, watching people and horses move through the street. She waited for the feeling of magic inside the bottle, but she couldn’t. But then, she didn’t feel anything when she said her prayers, either. Maybe magic wasn’t supposed to be felt.
Then she heard a sound. An arresting, brassy sound. She turned to see old Obadiah tramping his way down the sidewalk. Obadiah was an old man with grey in his beard, and he always wore a long coat even in the summer. As he walked, he played his harmonica, the notes tingling Luella’s ears. When he stopped playing, he started to sing. Obadiah had a sort of raspy, weathered voice, but he liked to sing, and the people of Compson liked hearing him sing his old folk tunes.
Daisy, daisy! Skies above! Daisy, daisy! Full of love! I want to pluck the finest daisy And give it to my little dove!
Listening to the song, Luella felt something strange inside her. It was unlike anything she had felt before, but it vibrated deep down her chest and then burst out of her. Her voice flowed forth, soft and melodious, but also powerful and confident. And she sang out on the street, lyrics she didn’t even know she knew.
Daisy, daisy! Oh so sweet! Daisy, daisy! By my feet! Daisy blooms so bright and strong In the depths of summer heat!
Luella stopped singing, feeling a rush of excitement within her, even greater than when she had found her dime. Then she saw Obadiah had stopped playing and was looking at her curiously. So were several other people around her. Even the horses had stopped. She turned around, smiling, and saw her mother looking at her strangely.
“Luella, dear, … was that you?”

Luella Jones was eight years old, standing in front of the congregation in the Church of the Risen Lord. The song book was in her hand, although she didn’t need it. For one, she could barely read. For another, she knew the words in her bones.
Amazing Grace! how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost, but now am found Was blind but now I see
When we've been there ten thousand years Bright, shining as the sun We've no less days to sing God's praise Than when we first begun
As congregants were filtering out of the church, they murmured the usual words of congratulations, mostly to her mother, Annie-Mae. “Your daughter’s voice is simply divine,” they would always say. And her mother would smile and thank the Lord for His great gift.
Reverend Alden patted Luella on the shoulder and said, “Beautiful job, my girl. I’ll see you tonight, yes?”
“Yes, reverend” Luella responded, smiling. Then she went off to take her mother’s hand. Reverend Alden was taking her on Sunday evenings and teaching her to read using scripture and hymn books. He said it was the only way he could repay her for singing to the congregation. And there was no one in her own family to teach her.
“A woman who can read can find a husband,” her mother would say to her. And whenever Luella would ask how, she would respond, “Why, all the ladies find their husbands in the newspapers.”
They got outside just in time to hear the screech and whistle of the train taking off. Compson had a modest train station: really it was a wooden shack next to the tracks. Trains came through here a lot, but not many passengers ever got off. A passenger got off this time, though. He started walking toward them, following the road that went past the church and toward the factory. Everyone around town was wearing their Sunday best, but this man’s suit was different. There weren’t any patches on his knees or elbows. His shoes were shiny, and not just the shine meant to cover up scuff marks. He was holding some metal disc that was connected to his pocket with a chain, looking at it, and putting it away. But there was something else about him too….
“Mama, what’s wrong with that man’s face?” Luella asked.
“Shh!” Her mother looked around mortified, and pulled Luella back inside the front doors of the church, looking down at her sternly. “Don’t say things like that. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with his face. He just white. That’s all.”
“White? He’s not white.” Luella knew what white was, well enough. Clouds were white, and chalk was white. She picked white lilies in the spring. That man’s face looked more the colour of a summer peach.”
“It don’t matter what you think, baby. He white, and we black. That’s all there is to it, and I don’t wanna hear another word. That man is Mr. Potter, and he owns the factory. I do not want him hearing you say there something wrong with his face.”
And that was the moment Luella learned she was black. It seemed such a queer and inconsequential thing at the time.

Mr. Potter was the only white man Luella ever saw around Compson. She saw him a few times, off and on, paying visit to the factory. But then one fall, when she was 12 another white man arrived by the Sunday train. He gave some boys a penny each and sent them running through town, knocking on doors and telling everyone to gather by the church for a meeting. Once the town had turned up, the white man introduced himself.
His name was Mr. Potter. But he was the younger Mr. Potter. His father, Mr. Potter, had died. He had everyone bow their heads and give a moment of silence. Then he said that he would now be in charge of the factory, and everything would stay the same. It seemed the same to Luella. There was still a factory, and there was still a Mr. Potter.
One thing was different. Her older brother Lamar had started working at the factory alongside Papa. It was wonderful, because now the family was making two dollars a day instead of one. They were eating better. They were living better. They passed a great winter together. Then Lamar got married in the spring, and Luella sang at their wedding. He and his bride decided they were going to move far away to the big city: New Calcedonia. So they were back to one dollar a day, but with one fewer mouth to feed. And by fall Cassius would be old enough to work in the factory too.
But by the end of summer the factory was closed.
The younger Mr. Potter didn’t manage money as well as his father. He lost all his money, and he tried to find someone to buy the factory, but all he could find was for someone to buy the land. So the factory was shutting down, and so was the whole town. Reverend Alden explained it to Luella, that young Mr. Potter had made some bad investments in New Calcedonia. He explained that investments are when you pay someone else money to do something, so eventually you will get more money back. But sometimes you don’t.
“Isn’t gambling a sin, reverend?” she asked.
“Yes,” he sighed. “And this is why.”
Everyone was going north to the big city, but no one could afford the train ticket to get there. So, one by one, families started hopping into empty railcars when the train stopped in Compson for maintenance. By the time Luella and her family managed to get away, the town was half gone. They crowded in the car with a couple other families from Compson, and some other folks riding the rails from further south. Her family had two canvas bags with them — one full of spare clothes, and one full of spare food. Everyone in the car pooled what meagre rations they had, and they all ate together. There was cheese and salami; sardines and saltines. It made Luella terribly thirsty, and when it rained she leaned out the door of the car to catch water in her open mouth.
And Luella sang the whole way. She sang hymns and folk songs. Ballads and shanties. She even sang some ditties she made up in her head. Her songs kept everyone together. Kept their spirits up. As they left the only lives they had known, and went into total uncertainty.

New Calcedonia was different. In Compson, Luella knew everyone in town. Here, everyone was a stranger. And they didn’t openly share with whomever they travelled with. They learned quick they needed to hoard what they had, or else someone would try to take it from them. There were a lot of people moving into the city in those days, because they heard there were jobs there. They kept flooding in, looking for jobs, until there were fewer jobs than people.
And there were white men in New Calcedonia. White women too. Luella saw them everywhere. Well, not everywhere. Not where they lived. They got an apartment in a black neighbourhood. Luella would sit on the roof of their building, looking at the neighbourhood at night, when it was soaked in darkness and scoured with grime. And across the railway tracks she could see electric lights and automobiles. That was when she understood what it meant to be black.
Her father got on down at the docks, but there were more workers than jobs, so he would have to line up at the gates every morning and hope he got chosen to work that day. That was much worse than his days at the factory. There was no twinkle in his eye at all anymore. No stories or good humour. He seemed lost and broken after having had to move his family across the country. Soon he stopped bringing his hard-earned money home, but instead took it to the bar down the street, and get lost in cheap whisky. One night he got more lost than usual and fell asleep on the railroad tracks.
After that, it was the three of them. Cassius got some work at the docks when he could. Annie-Mae took in washing. And Luella went down to the street corners and sang. She went to the other side of the railroad tracks, where the white people walked, and she sang her heart out with every song she knew. Sometimes people would glare at her, or call her filthy names. But she kept on singing, and people would throw money into her hat. Pennies mostly, but sometimes nickles. Even dimes, when she was lucky, and she smiled to hear that silver clink.
She was nearing the end of a long day of busking when a young man sauntered towards her. He was black, but he was dressed as well as the white men. He paused at her corner and listened. He listened for a long time, smiling at her sweet voice. Eventually she paused to ask him if he wanted something in particular.
“Do you know ‘The Water is Wide?’” he asked.
She nodded.
The water is wide, We cannot get o’er! And neither have we wings to fly Give us a boat that will carry two And both shall row. My love and I.
Then the young man reached into his coat and pulled out a crisp $1 bill and placed it in her hat. Luella gasped. That was a day’s wages for people like her. And he dropped it in like a trifling thing. He saw her astonishment and laughed.
“A woman with a voice as divine as yours should not be on a street corner busking. You should be filling concert halls.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, sir.” She blushed. “I just like singing, is all. I do it to help out my family.”
“What’s your name, darling?”
“Luella Jones, sir.”
He laughed. “Don’t be calling me sir, now. I’m Calvin. Calvin Spellway.”
Luella gasped again. “Do you mean….”
“Yes … I’m the son.”
She walked with Calvin up the street, clutching her earnings close to her chest, as they walked right up to the doors of a large store, with a sign above reading Spellway & Son Pianos. He unlocked the door and led her inside. There, Luella marvelled at the works of art contained. The polished wood and ivory contraptions had always seemed to her like magic. She ran her fingers along the edges, shivered at the touch.
Calvin sat down at one of the benches and began playing. His fingers glided effortlessly over the keys and music filled the room. It wasn’t a melody Luella had heard before, but the music filled her, and she began to sing.
A year later, at age 16, Luella Jones got married to Calvin Spellway. It was a much larger wedding than there had been in Compson for Lamar and his bride. This one was bankrolled by the Spellway fortune. The reception was in a nice hall with beautiful decorations and good food. Calvin’s side of the wedding vastly eclipsed Luella’s which consisted of her mother Annie-Mae, her brother Cassius, and her other brother Lamar with his wife and two children. But with great difficulty, Luella had managed to track down Reverend Alden at his present address and invited him to conduct the service. He beamed with pride, and so did her mother.
Calvin’s father, Hoban, gave them a bottle of whisky as a gift on the wedding night. The label said Dalloway in fancy writing. Luella protested that she didn’t touch alcohol, but she relented to share a drink with her new husband. Even though the liquid burned, she felt pleasant nonetheless. Then, Calvin played the piano, and she sang along with him, and the music carried them away.

“I don’t want you to go!” pleaded Luella Spellway, 19 years old, with tears in her eyes.
“I know,” said Calvin. He wrapped her in a hug, the rough wool of his tan uniform jacket brushing against her arms. “I know. But I need to serve my country. You don’t want to be married to a coward, after all. But don’t worry. Everyone says this thing will probably be done by Christmas. I’ll be back before you know it.”
Luella collapsed to the floor, sobbing, while Calvin left her to get on a train with hundreds of other uniformed young men, heading to a ship that would take them to Gallia. To the war.
She tried to keep busy. She helped out her father-in-law in the piano store, but that fell on harder times as well. Many of his materials had traditionally been imported from Gallia, so now he was scrambling to find local alternatives that were just not as good. Plus, people in general were not in a mood for buying pianos. The government was telling everyone to forgo luxuries because of the war.
Impelled to do her part, Luella started working in a factory. There were many young women in factories now that the men were all off fighting. Her job was casting bullets. She controlled a lever that poured hot lead into the casts, and then another lever that lowered the casts into water so the lead would harden into bullets. She sang as she worked, and became popular among all the other women on the floor. Her songs helped take them away, take their minds off all the young men who had left them.
One year into the war was the Battle of Verreuil. All the newspapers were talking about it. It was a grand and decisive victory for the allied forces that would surely turn the tide of the war, they said. And it killed her husband.
She got the telegram late at night informing her that Calvin had been killed in action. She was a widow at 20 years old. Her world fell out from under her. She wasn’t sure if she screamed to the heavens or was struck dumb by shock. She found the bottle of Dalloway whisky in the cabinet, half-gone. They had shared their last glass the night before he left. They were saving the rest for when he returned. She downed the contents of the bottle right there, and she hurtled it at the wall with fury. Then her night became a blur. She wondered, briefly, if she would find herself sleeping on the railroad tracks like her father had.
No such luck.
She went back to work at the factory, but she did not sing. She continued to cast bullets that would kill other young men like her husband. She carried on like the living dead, not thinking about anything except how many bullets she was casting. How many potential deaths they could cause. She cast 186,600 bullets by the end of the war.
Her brother Cassius returned home with one leg. One leg and tortured dreams. The terrors became too much for him, and he shot himself with his service pistol. Then Luella tried to take care of her mother, but Annie-Mae came down with a terrible flu. When she was nearly departed from the world, there was a brief moment where she seemed to forget the terrible things that had befallen them. She rambled about her husband, and about Cassius, coming to see her at any minute. And she asked Luella to sing for her.
And so Luella sang gentle hymns by her mother’s death bed, the first time she’d sung in two years. And her mother just smiled.
“Divine,” she said. “Simply divine….”
The news came that the war was over, and while the rest of the country was celebrating, Luella Spellway got on a train north from New Calcedonia, feeling like the world had never been darker.

Belfonte was grand. It was grand enough to make New Calcedonia feel like Compson. As Luella got off the train in Grand Central Station and felt the oppressive crowd surge around her like rolling waves, she felt utterly invisible.
That was what she wanted.
She had a purse full of her dead husband’s money, and she used it to bounce around the city, from inn to inn, from hotel to hotel. At first, she limited her exposure to the city, finding it very intimidating. She had been astounded to see her first automobile when she was 13, but now the streets were choked with them. She tried singing on street corners as she once had, but the sounds of the city were so loud and cacophonous they drowned her out.
So she tried going around to bars and clubs, asking about getting work as a singer. She started out in the north central part of the city, going to places that looked nice. Many of them looked at her skin colour and said, “We’re not that kind of club.” Others simply said they had a house band and there were no available positions. And so she worked her way east, out of the nice-looking bars and into the other ones. She worked her way eastwards, picking up a night here and there, earning a few quarters singing calming ballads to drunk rabble-rousers.
She worked her way all the way to a really rough neighbourhood on the east side, at a bar called The Temple that was anything but holy. The barkeep there said they usually employed a fiddle player, but he’d broken his arm, and she was welcome to fill in as nightly entertainment until he was healed up. She accepted the job gratefully. So gratefully she never asked how the fiddle player had broken his arm. But she really should have.
The Temple was a war zone of its own. There were two small-time street gangs in the neighbourhood — the Hoofs and the Horns — and they would choose the Temple as their battleground more often that not. Brawls were not just a nightly occurrence, but practically an hourly one. They fought and scrapped and smashed bottles, but she kept singing and stayed out of the way, and she survived, night by night.
Then one day there was a climactic turf war one street over, and the Hoofs were soundly defeated. Luella thought that might make things better, but it made them worse. The Horns were in the Temple that night toasting their victory. And now with no enemies, they felt invincible. They shouted their every whim at the bar staff, beating those who didn’t comply. They brought in women and bent them over the tables. Luella tried to stay out of it, but she didn’t.
One of them threw a quarter at her. “Lose the dress, darling! Let’s get some real entertainment going here!”
The men roared their approval, while she tried to back away slowly. But they weren’t going to let her leave.
“She’s taking too long to make up her mind. Let’s speed things up!”
One man reached for her, trying to tear her dress off. She did the only thing she could think of, which was to kick him square in the chest, sending him tumbling backwards. Some of the men found this hilarious, but others got angry. One of them jumped at her, grabbing her by the hair and sneering. So she grabbed a whisky bottle and clubbed him with it. With a thunk he went down.
But now the bar was erupting in fury, and several gang members were charging her at once. She desperately sought a way out, but she was cornered. But then something new came into the fray, and three men were tossed aside in a single blow. She saw something monstrous towering over her. It was a man with horns and reptilian features. Draconic, even. She had heard Cassius talk about dragonmen on the battlefield, but she thought it was just ravings.
The dragonman picked her up, swatting away Horns as he did, and carried her out the front entrance of the bar. She screamed and thrashed in his grip, but he didn’t release until he finally deposited her on the sidewalk. Then he stepped back, giving a small bow.
Luella straightened herself up, looking around with confusion, and saw someone else before her. He was another black man, dressed as well as a white man. But this one didn’t stop there. In a city where people get ignored, he dressed to stand out, with a bright blue suit and a purple top hat. He wasn’t exactly young, but he was certainly not old. There was something different about him, but Luella also felt at ease.
“An acquaintance recently told me,” the man began to speak, “that he had heard a woman with the most amazing voice in all of Belfonte, if not all the world, acting as entertainment for the Hoofs and Horns in the seediest dive bar on the east side. And I just had to come myself to see how this thoroughly impossible thing might be true. But here we are.”
Luella cocked her head to the side, staring at him. “Excuse me? Here we are what?”
“You handled yourself really well in there. I like that in a woman. But your voice. Your voice is simply d—”
“Divine. Yes, that’s what people tell me.”
“How did you come to have such a beautiful voice, I wonder.”
“I drank a bottle of Wicca-Cola when I was six years old.”
He laughed, and so did the dragonman. “Fair enough. But more to the point, how does someone with a voice like yours end up working in a place like this?”
“I really like the beef stew,” she responded dryly. “How the hell do you think? Nowhere else would take me. I didn’t suit their image, a poor coloured girl from the south dragging across their doorstep.”
The man gave a knowing, sombre nod. “I suspected as much. But that’s going to change. I’m opening a club myself, and I’m looking for talent wherever I can find it. I heard enough in there to know I want you in it. I can only imagine what you’d do with a proper band behind you.”
“Are you so sure I’ll say yes?”
He chuckled, then opened the door to the bar, where sounds of smashing glass and brawling spilled out. “You’re welcome to go back in there, if you want.” When Luella didn’t move, he laughed again.
“You dress big and you talk big, but how do I know this club of yours is even real?”
“Excellent point. I can’t really prove it to you right now. So I’ll just give you this.” He handed her a stack of five dollar bills.
Her eyes went wide. “What is this?”
“Cab fare, and a good will bonus. Take a taxi to the Hotel St. Francis. There’s a room booked under my name — relax, I won’t be in it. I’ll meet you there tomorrow morning and take you to see the new club. Then we can talk salary and other details.”
Luella swallowed, wondering if this could possibly be real. Finally, she asked, “What is your name?”
“Oh, of course.” He laughed. “The name is Wilburforce Buchanan. My associate here is Tom.” The dragonman nodded. “And what is your name, songbird?”
The name “Luella Spellway” started to emerge but died on her tongue. She felt so far removed from that name now. It was as lost to her as her husband. So after pausing a moment, she said, “Divinity Jones.”
“Well, that is a fantastic name,” Wilburforce said. Then he whistled at a passing motorcar and got a taxi to pull alongside them. “Take this young lady to the Hotel St. Francis, please.” Then he laughed again. “The first time in history a cabbie has ever picked someone up on this corner to take them to the Hotel St. Francis, I’m sure. It’s good to meet you, Divinity Jones. … Oh, before you go, just one small question.”
“Yes?” she asked, ducking into the cab.”
“How do you like jazz?”

Hey everyone, I updated ELCP to be compatible with the latest official patch v1.7.4! Remember to join my [Discord Channel], if you want to have a chat. Further information for newcomers in the [official forum thread].
This patch is the first big one that targets many of the new systems Symbiosis introduced.
On the balancing side of things, the Mykara have received some love! One of their most glaring issues was the fact, that overgrown cities are more of a burden than an asset. Many players resorted to just burning them down as soon as Symbiosis was completed. To make keeping them more worthwhile, their impact on empire plans and booster cost has been reduced by 50%. Additionally, after completing Symbiosis they no longer contribute to Expansion Disapproval, and their base Happiness increases from 60 to 80. I am also eyeballing the other new Symbiosis feature - the Urkans! While they didnt receive any direct nerfs (yet!), I provided some new counters, and made peaceful taming in the early game more expensive.
Speaking of Urkans: The AI received a complete overhaul of their Urkan management layer. They are now able to use them in army form, and are more eager to get the luxuries necessary to tame and train them! Other notable changes include Mykara AIs now being able to use Fast Travel and Atmos being able to use his teleport.
[Version out of date]
Note: Multiplayer saves from older versions are not compatible with newer versions (Singleplayer saves are fine)

Changelog for v2.3.3:

• Ports the Community patch to Endless Legend v1.7.4 S3

General

• Fixed an ELCP bug that could lead to AI battles locking up when modding tools where enabled
• Introduced a workaround for games failing to load ("object reference not set to an instance of an object") due to trade routes of razed cities not being deleted correctly
• When loading a save, the game now also checks, if there any converted villages of dead cultist players left and "fixes" them if necessary
  • This workaround was added to adress a rare issue of converted cultist villages not being "freed" correctly, when the converting empire is eliminated
• Fixed some more instances of stuttering caused by the AI being unable to generate a path to its intended target
• Fixed Vaulter Holy Resource Booster preventing Urkan Resource gain and AI difficulty bonus of that resource to work
• Less Nudism: Nidya Arpuja mercenaries now wear torso and head armor pieces corresponding to the current era
• Fixed a bug where Urkans would only be able to embark if they where in army form when shipyard research finished
• Improved lategame AI performance slightly
• Streamlined ELCP's new trade route calculation a bit, Frozen Water tiles will no longer be considered for roads
• Fixed the randomization aspect of "Dust Opportunist" not working correctly, also changed the equation a bit

UI

• Fixed fungal bloomed Villages not displaying their Assimilation Bonus in the tooltip
• The tooltip for the Infiltration-Action "Dust Opportunist" now displays how much dust will be stolen when using the action (lower and upper limit)

Balance [Core]

• Due to popular demand, there is now a pre-game setting that lets you disable the ELCP-rule-change on how blackspot works
  • With the Vanilla-Blackspot-Ruleset enabled, you can again conquer cities and fortresses of blackspotted enemies

Balance [XML]

• Increased the amount of dust stolen by "Dust Opportunist" by roughly one level
• Soul Burn (Broken Lords eclipse ability) now causes 5% of max hp damage per turn (down from 10%)
• The "Ward of the Cocoon"-Shield now grants "Natural Immunity" (immunity against most debuffs and stuns except overtime-damage)
  • The quest granting this shield is rarely completed due to it requiring the sacrifice of a settler, which is typically considered too much of a price for a slightly better early game shield
  • Giving the shield an additional rare capacity should make it a bit more enticing. "Natural Immunity" also allows it to be combod with Ceratan Driders, thus matching the lore of the quest.
• The "Better Friends Than Enemies" competitive quest now rewards strategic instead of luxury resources
  • The completion of this quest is mostly down to luck and the luxury reward can lead to some nasty snowballing (getting an early Urkan and/or the Wealth Harvester deed)
• Rebalanced some neutral units with the intention of weakening the overused ones a bit while improving the weaker ones.
  • Jotus Tetike now have true sight. These neutral units are quite expensive, and neither their passive bonus nor their battle prowess justifies this. True sights fits their theme and gives them a more distinct role.
  • Increased base damage of Ceratan Driders by 10. While the passive effect of these unit is fine, their stats in general are bad (as are those of most support units), and the weak heal is typically not worth using due to the stun effect it entails.
  • Reduced the base damage of Dorgeshi Burdeki by 14 and increased their base production cost by 33%. Dorgeshi are one of the better Assimilations due to their good passive effect, and their cheap but highly effective unit. This change is intended to make the Burdeki more of a "support stunner" and less of a damage dealer.
  • Urces Rumblers lose their Beam capacity, can now wear 2h Axes instead of Claws, and have their base cost reduced by 10. Urces are one of the most used Units dues to their strong passive and them being cheap, well statted tanks. In particular they outshine the very(!) similar but more expensive Silics Harmonite in most situations. This change should give it a more distinct role as cheap, sturdy infantry without any extras.
• Reverted the general 50% Increase to Cat's Paw influence cost that ELCP introduced a few patches ago, instead only Fomorian armies are now 50% more expensive to mind control
  • While the Morgawr remain one of the stronger factions, there have been complaints that the old nerf makes the use of (landbased) Cat's Paw in general not feasable
  • As a compromise I opted for a more targeted approach, mind controlling fomorians (one but not the only source of the Morgawr's guaranteed early ocean dominance) is still more expensive, while mind controlling land based armies is back to its original influence cost
• Reduced the food gain of all volcanic tiles by 1
  • Since their introduction the Kapaku have been an unholy combination of easy to play and very(!) strong , mainly because of their many strengths (5 base FISDI on preferred terrain instead of the usual 3, good Science and Industry, one of the best Era 2 units) in combination with no real weakness that matters, as volcano formation is cheap early on, and they tend to have more strategics anyway
  • With this change, their base FISDI is reduced by 1, the intention is to make food gain their weakness and their early game slower when compared to other factions
  • As a side benefit, the effectiveness of volcanic terrain for other factions is unchanged
• Reduced the number of Regions required for an expansion victory slightly
• Slavery no longer works with Converted Villages
• Gave Urkans Disease Immunity in order to make Necrophages less lopsidedly strong against them
• Taming Urkans now always requires at least Era 3 Luxuries, and the amount needed is now fixed at 30 (+ 20 for each other Urkan under control of the instigating empire)
• Scythers now have the "Urkan Slayer 2" Capacity, The Guardian "Atmos" now has the "Urkan Slayer 3" Capacity
  • Both units are expensive and rarily seen, with the Introduction of the new and very strong Urkans these can now serve as alternative ways to counter them
  • Atmos in particular lacked a specialized combat role and was rarily seen for that reason
• Expansion Disapproval reducing Technologies are no longer available for Mykara
• Overgrown Cities no longer generate Expansion Disapproval as soon as Symbiosis is complete
• Overgrown Cities have their happiness fixed at 80 as soon as Symbiosis is complete (they still only have 60 otherwise)
• Overgrown Cities have their Empire Scale factor reduced by 50% (that means their impact on Empire plans as well as some Boosters like Luxuries is halved when compared to normal cities, thanks Cornebre)

AI

• Heavily reworked the AI's management of Urkans
  • Updated ELCP's reworked trading AI, so it takes the Urkans Luxury needs into account. AIs should be more likely to peacefully tame and train them.
  • AI's can now uproot Urkans and use their army form, if they deem it to be necessary.
  • They will also use the teleport/resettle ability offensively
  • AI's are smarter about choosing the actual settling position of Urkans
  • Furthermore AI's no longer "cheat" when using resettle, that means they can't ignore the AP or cooldown requirements. They also don't resettle while the Urkan is in army form.
  • This is just a first step, this new AI will probably need more work in the future
• Reworked how AIs try to engage Urkans, they should be less inclined to just waste armies on them, attacks should be more coordinated
• When at war, AIs will be unlikely to send forces away to tame an Urkan that is no immediate threat
• Fixed AIs trying to settle regions occupied by Urkans
• The AI now makes usage of the Atmos' teleport ability
• Mykara-AIs are now able to use fast travel via overgrown ruins
• Fixed an instance where Forgotten-AIs would still assign infinite value to a technology trade (thanks TrueValhalla)
• Mykara will now research resource technologies even if no deposit is in their main region
• Added the missing AI skill weights for Mykara heros and the Haunts hero
• Broken lords will no longer assimilate Bos, Forgotten will no longer assimilate Haunts
• Broken Lords will try to avoid using food based governors, Forgotten science based ones respectively, improved governor skill builds of both factions aswell
• Some minor tweaks to colonization behavior
• Improved pacification AI
  • AIs below hard difficulty sometimes had trouble pacifying their regions which in turn let to no colonization attempts and small empires
  • The changes made should improve lower difficulty AIs expansion behavior and should also improve their ability to deal with "hard"-difficulty minor factions
• AI Heros will now use additional accessory slots gained by skills
• Introduced a new pre-game option "Shackle AI". Use this option to "put the AI in shackles", resulting in it having a soft cap on how many units it can produce depending on its empire size
  • This option is mainly intended to be used by players that deactivate most victory conditions
  • In very long games (due to missing victory conditions) an AI may otherwise snowball and continue producing absurd amounts of units which can tank the performance to permanent single-digit fps
  • Note: this will naturally reduce the lategame challenge an AI can pose

Modding

• With modding tools enabled, selecting a technology in the Research Screen while pressing the "G"-Key instantly unlocks that technology