Fanatics

Their knives shine red with blood.

Written by Francesco Lanza.

General Information

Fanatics are a Coven Model, of the Cultists category. This Model is never Summoned, but can be Gathered again when Removed from the gaming board. This mechanic represents the fact that Devil Worshipers are a reality in the World of Hexerei, and they are a moltitude, with new converts (forced or otherwise) flocking to the Witches' call every night. Fanatics are moved around the board like other Coven Models and use the same rules for fighting or Casualty.
Weak in a fight, expendable, easily brushed aside, Fanatics look like pushovers, but in fact are pivotal to the Coven's game. Only Fanatics can open the Portal and let fiends and damned souls on the game board. Removing Fanatics from the game, thus, is a setback for the Coven, even if it is pretty minor.

Portrait

by Igor Krstic

by Alessandro Depaoli

Gifts

The Devil's boon manifests according to the nature of each minion.

Open the Portal

Fiends do not come on their own in the tangible world. They need to be called. Fanatics chant litanies in the night and drench cromlechs with the blood of innocents.

Strategy

Marauding bands of Fanatics scour the land searching for converts and victims, and follow the directives of the Coven in thwarting the Witch Hunters. They lay traps, they steal ancient tomes, they cast spells of misfortune. Fanatics can destroy Strategy Encounters, and enact an Effect of their own when they do.

Tactics

A Coven Model is always frightening and useful in a fight.

We are Legion

Fanatics are always in a group, as represented by the Coven Model. Their number means that they won't stop so easily when confronted with the thunder of a single matchlock gun.

Critical Hit

When luck favors the Coven, the following Casualty Roll will be rolled at great disadvantage.

A prisoner's deposition

"Black knives! Red knives!" Those were the only words the prisoner kept repeating, over and over again.

That dog! It looked like it was all he knew about our language, for all else he muttered nonsense that sounded like birdsong. He was crazy, Your Eminence, or so we thought. We tied him well, and then we tended to our camp.

When night came upon us, it felt like a deathly pall of silence covered the land. Your Eminent Grace, whatever His Excellence the Secretary is jotting down while I speak is true, I swear it upon the head of my Mother. We heard a faint bleating, somewhere in the dark. We wanted to search for it, but the prisoner started screaming his head off. I sent Dietrich to beat him, but suddendly I saw them, right at the edge of our lanthorns. I saw them, they were garbed in black tunics, like the night, and they wore devil-masks. Black knives, red knives — red from blood. One of them was holding a struggling lamb. He disemboweled it deliberately in front of our astonished eyes. I heard the Devil himself whispering in my ears that it was prophecy: it would soon be my own turn. I do not know how I survived, but I beg of you, I am a child of God: reconsider my case.

I will do penance, and I am ready to sign any kind of confession.