This DLC contains one Hunter, two Weapons, and one Consumable:

- The Conspirator (Hunter)

- Crown Cinders (Martini-Henry IC1)

- Royal Sabotage (Scottfield Model 3)

- Forefather’s Fury (Vitality Shot)

The Conspirator

The flames of November 5th taught the self-proclaimed heir of the Gunpowder Plot not to speak out against unjust rule, but the fires of war taught him silence was untenable. Taking up his forefather’s crusade, The Conspirator reforges himself in the furnace of the bayou.

Crown Cinders

This Martini-Henry IC1 was standard issue, and The Conspirator carried it across the seas. A mark of pride in his actions, it was burned during its retrieval on that fateful Bonfire Night.

Royal Sabotage

The Conspirator proved a few well-placed shots can sink warships. Now, this humble Scottfield Revolver is a dependable weapon in slaying even supernatural foes, adorned with a legacy of raging fire.

Forefather’s Fury

The Conspirator made this Vitality Shot by mixing a balm he concocted for his own burns with the healing science he found in Louisiana. It provides a rare moment of relief from his constant pains.

Rumors began to spread through the decks of Britain’s Atlantic fleet: a traitor was in their midst. The two ships that sank near Cape Verde did not go down by accident—and the perpetrator must have been among the survivors who were rounded up for interrogation. Three walked the plank, found guilty of conspiracy, but it didn’t stop another ship from sinking that same night. A frenzy spread amongst the soldiers, and the officers executed all remaining survivors of the sunken ships. With the crisis averted, calm spread through the fleet once again—until fire and oil burst forth from the head ship in an explosion that razed the armada.

A dozen ships were scuppered, but the culprit was ultimately found: a single humble officer. With naught but his service rifle, revolver, and a penchant for gunpowder’s destruction, he had decimated the fleet. Such a heinous crime demanded he be made an example of and humiliated, lest other would-be rebels take inspiration. On trial, the man proclaimed himself to be Francis Fawkes, heir to Guy Fawkes and dedicated to his ancestor’s mission.

He was sentenced to burning at the stake. On November 5th, The Conspirator was paraded in the streets and burned atop a historic bonfire: bound, masked, and dressed as an effigy to be mocked by what remained of the Navy. The flames of consequence melted his skin and welded the mask to his visage. In total agony, childhood memories flooded his mind in a fever dream: a sickly father’s pained groans, a vagrant mother’s bitter tears, and a frail grandmother’s lullaby—wondering about life if history had been different. Spiteful, The Conspirator lived long enough for the fire to burn through his restraints. Survivors of his wrath say he descended with eerie, royal poise. Spectators fled and homes burned as The Conspirator searched for water. To this day, those streets remain rubble and ash.

Pleased with his work, and with intentions to someday finish the Gunpowder Plot’s mission, The Conspirator fled. Hearing of good money and good use for his spite-fueled talents, he made his way to the bayou, continuing a lifelong crusade.