Have you ever wished you could have an army in your pocket? As it turns out, you’re not the first person to dream of such a thing. The origins of so-called “tiny warriors” are lost to the ages, but Awakened craftsmen have been creating such things since the dynasties of Classical Egypt. Though they’re not exactly common, these constructs have become more prevalent in the era of tight airport security and heavily guarded borders and installations.

Traditionally shaped from wood, ceramic, bone, and cloth, tiny warriors are manufactured most often these days from plastic and synthetic polyfibers. The concept is simple enough: a toy soldier who, upon magickal activation, grows to the size of a full-grown man or woman and rushes off to fight at your command. The warrior’s gear grows to the proper size as well, and then transforms from fragile wood or plastic into combat-ready steel. Such warriors are loyal unto death, and if they seem a bit more… um, literal… in their interpretations of commands than actual human beings would be, they lack neither courage nor ferocity.

Tiny warriors, to be honest, are pretty dense. Appropriately crafted warriors know how to use basic firearms, but their grasp of strategy consists of “See enemy, kill enemy.” They attack when ordered, retreat when ordered, and hold back when ordered. Mercy and self-preservation seem to be as alien concepts to such constructs as any other form of independent thought. For anyone who’s ever been in a fight, the drawbacks of such limitations are obvious. Still, the damn things can be pretty useful in a full-blown war, and mages of all kinds (even Technocrats who can solve the physics puzzles of energy and mass) have been known to toss tiny warriors at their enemies and then take full advantage of the ensuing mayhem.

Unless ordered otherwise by its creator, a tiny warrior obeys only the mage who crafted it. It’s tough, fearless, fanatical, and mute. What little personality it displays follows the design of the toy it appears to be: A tiny Viking berserker charges into battle like a bear on bad steroids, while a samurai warrior moves with disciplined precision. In recent years, mages have added Forces Effects to such warriors in order to imbue comic-style superheroes with the appropriate powers. But while skilled artisans have been able to program tiny warriors with a collection of pre-recorded speeches and remarks, no one has yet managed to give tiny

warriors an enduring intellect unless the mage has also turned the construct into a spirit-Fetish… a decision that tends to have unfortunate results.

Tiny warriors can’t remain active for long. The energy animating them tends to run out pretty quickly unless, once again, a bound spirit has animated the warrior’s form. In system terms, a tiny warrior can fight for two turns for each dot in the creator’s Arete Trait; after that, the warrior goes rigid for three turns, and then returns to its toy-like size. Before it can fight again, the creator must invest the warrior with at least 10 points of Quintessence. Without that vital energy, a tiny warrior is exactly what it appears to be: an impressive yet ordinary toy.

Attributes: Strength 5, Dexterity 2, Stamina 6, Charisma 1, Manipulation 1, Appearance 2, Perception 1, Intelligence 1, Wits 3

Abilities: Alertness 3, Brawl 4, Firearms 1, Melee 4

Willpower: 3

Health Levels: OK, OK, OK, OK, OK, OK, OK, ‒5, Shattered

Armor Rating: 5 (11 soak dice, total) + the appropriate armor type

Powers: Attacks with a punch (Strength bashing damage), or by weapon type; Human Speech.

Image: In their tiny form, these warriors look like toys, generally static figures between two and 12 inches high. Certain crafters create articulated tiny warriors with moveable joints, plus gear that can be removed and changed out with equipment and clothing from other figures of their kind. (Equipment from non-enchanted figures cannot be changed out this way.) Without magickal or Enlightened hypertech perceptions, these “action figures” appear to be perfectly normal toys. When activated, tiny warriors seem to become human fighters of an appropriate appearance, culture, and temperament. They’re not terribly bright, though, and can’t manage any task beyond the most basic and direct form of fighting. Under close observation, their features seem crude and artificial, and even the best of them move with mechanical stiffness, not the fluidity of normal human activity. When not moving, these warriors stand with unnerving rigidity. Though they’re not obviously vulgar to people who don’t see them transform from toys into apparent people, tiny warriors seem distinctly strange to everyone who watches them in action.

Roleplaying Notes: You live for war. Follow orders, kill on command, and try not to get killed yourself.