Hi Spacers,
The Shepherd hasn’t been quiet these past weeks. Behind the scenes, pieces are locking into place – in production, in design, and in the deeper halls of the ship where the story turns darker still.
This update takes us further inside. You’ll see where the path of Assimilation leads. You’ll hear the Conductor’s symphony, learn how Grins evolve under its command, and discover the suit, forged from its remains. There’s also a glimpse at the latest on production, a word of thanks, and even a short transmission from Kingdoms Forlorn.
So suit up, steady your nerves, and follow us inside. The music has already begun.
Production Update
The last few weeks have been all about miniatures. Together with our manufacturer, we’ve just wrapped up the modification phase, the stage where every detail gets checked, adjusted, and locked in before the molds for plastic injection are created. It’s not the flashiest part of development, but it’s one of the most important.
Working this closely with the manufacturer has been an intense process. Their priorities focus on durability and smooth mass production, while ours revolve around precision and detail, making sure that the sculpt you’ve seen in render form actually comes through on the table. Sometimes those aims align perfectly from the start, sometimes they need another round of adjustments. The good news is that progress has been steady, even if a little slower than we had hoped, and every iteration gets us closer to the standard we’re aiming for.
With most of the miniature work now moving forward, the next major task is the box. The final insert design depends directly on the shapes and sizes of the miniatures, so with those set, layout work begins in earnest.
We’ll share more about that in the next update.
With production progressing, we can turn our attention back to design. And today, that means stepping into the shadows of the Finger Kingdom.
The Finger Kingdom
Once, the Finger Kingdom was the holiest place aboard the Shepherd. Its halls were lined with symbols of faith, meant to offer comfort and strength to those carrying out their sacred mission. Now those same icons have been defiled. What once inspired is now grotesque: shrines built of bone, walls marked by grasping hands, every emblem warped and transformed into fingers. The Grins have claimed it, and with them comes their herald: the Conductor.
It is here that the final campaign of the Core Box, Assimilation, unfolds. Everything you’ve endured leads to this moment, a last stand against the Hand, as it closes around the Shepherd. Each mission advances the inevitable. You cannot stop it, only slow it down. And in doing so, you’re forced to push your body, your mind, and your convictions to their breaking point. This is a campaign about desperation, sacrifice, and defiance in the face of a force that cannot truly be defeated.
Assimilation reaches its peak through a condition known as Digitification. Spread by the Praetorians and the Conductor, it represents the Hand’s infection. When a Spacer is Digitified, they receive Finger tokens and an Assimilation Indicator that they place on the Rubicon connector. It marks what the Hand takes from you. The more tokens you collect, the less space you have for Vitals, Stress, and Adrenaline. Every step shortens your lifespan and every token makes survival harder.
The Finger Kingdom is the Hand’s dominion. And in Assimilation, you’ll discover how much of yourself you can still hold onto before you are counted among its fingers.
The Grins
First comes the sound. A brittle crack, like fingers snapping one by one, rolling through the empty corridors. Then shadows move, crooked and smiling, dragging themselves closer. Grins are carrion brought back to life, every one of them a soul consumed by the Hand of the Outer Dark and spat back as a vessel of hunger. They don’t hesitate. They don’t rest. And once they’ve found you, they never let go.
The Grins
The most common of their kind. Easy to underestimate, but always costly to face. Attacking them up close raises your stress and panic makes you waste your precious ammo in wild bursts – or, if the weapon is empty, you fumble the grip and exhaust it in your hands. Take too many wounds and a parasite will burrow inside you. Left unchecked, it kills, then reshapes the corpse into another Grin.
Security Deck Grins
Born from mercenaries, guards, and agents, these creatures prowl their home territory with brutal precision. They strike like predators lying in wait, pouncing the very moment your scouting becomes a little bit careless. Any close-quarters exchange leaves you drained: stress spikes, tokens slip from your Active Pool, and parasites dig deeper. Plus, killing too many at once triggers their counterattack.
Grin Praetorians
Praetorians are the closest servants of the Conductor, shaped from the Shepherd’s fallen spiritual elite. Their presence corrodes everything near them. Distance offers no protection, whether your attack comes from across the room or the edge of a blade, stress climbs and your Spacer Pool thins. Instead of parasites, they impose Finger tokens, choking your Rubicon connector and squeezing the life out of your Spacer. The more tokens you carry, the harsher their strikes. Hurt them badly, and their retaliation only intensifies, each blow heavier than the last.
The Conductor
The lights dim. The hall falls silent. Somewhere deep inside the Shepherd, a stage has been prepared. The seats are empty, but the audience is already here: the walls lean closer, the corridors bend, the air itself waits in anticipation.
And then it begins.
A single crack of bone against bone, sharp and deliberate, sets the tempo. Fingers tap along the metal like a metronome. From the shadows, the choir awakens – Alto, Tenor, Soprano, Baritone, Bass – voices strained and unnatural, weaving harmony from agony. Their song is not an accompaniment. It is Judgement. Each note becomes a command, a strike, a fracture pressed into your every move.
The Conductor does not need a baton. His will moves through the Shepherd, and with it he commands the Grins. They are his orchestra, pulled into rhythm whether they wish it or not. When the music calls for a signature crescendo, it is they who lash out, their claws and teeth the instruments of his will. Only when the stage is bare, when no Grin remains, does he step forward to perform the terrible passage himself.
Every step he takes leaves behind the writhing echo of his presence: Wriggling Fingers sprouting from the floor, twisting the stage into something alive. To stand too close is to feel them coil around you, seeding Finger tokens that weigh on your body, squeezing the life from your Vitals, and choking the space for your Stress and Adrenaline, where they begin to become a threat.
And still the choir sings. The low hum of dread tightens your chest, the high keen of anxiety shatters your focus, the layered chorus of nightmares bends your resolve until even your weapons falter. Some strikes seize you outright, clutching your body against the cage of fingers on his chest.
The deeper the symphony, the darker the instruments he calls. In its first movement, the Conductor plays with the weakest Grins, letting them gnaw the melody into shape. In the second, he summons predators from the Security Deck, merciless and sharp. And when the music reaches its final movement, the Praetorians join the choir, their presence a sign that the Hand itself leans close, eager to hear the finale.
The Conductor is the most dangerous intruder aboard the Shepherd not because of his claws or his frame, but because of the corrupting presence he carries. His very existence wraps reality, twisting walls and corridors into writhing fingers. Every Spacer, every Grin, every corner of the Finger Kingdom bends to his influence, drawn into the performance he conducts.
When the final chord collapses into silence, you will not remember whether you fought him… or whether you simply played your part.
And the Shepherd will remember only the song.
Knucklebuster suit
The Knucklebuster suit, built from Counterattack technology and spliced with fragments torn from the Conductor, is less an armor and more a captured voice of the Hand. Every Spacer who wears it knows they are stepping into something dangerous: power wrapped in temptation, defiance laced with risk.
Against the Grins, the Knucklebuster feels unstoppable. Its plating lets you shrug off small amounts of Digitification, ignoring Finger tokens that would cripple others. The suit’s action cards turn the battlefield into a brawl of raw control: you can shove aside enemies, push through their ranks, and strike harder when the Grins close in. At its most brutal, you can choose to absorb Finger tokens during an attack, drawing corruption into your swing and releasing it as a devastating force.
But the suit remembers the rhythm of the Conductor. Its fragments twitch inside the plating, stirring whenever Stress builds too high. A breakdown here is not just a mental crack but an opening for the Hand’s echo to slip through. The more you lean on its strength, the more it hungers to take the lead.
The Knucklebuster is victory at a price. It resists Digitification, crushes Grins, and turns corruption into power. Yet, every Spacer who straps it on knows the truth: the Conductor is never truly gone, and each battle fought inside this suit brings his voice one note closer.
Kingdoms Forlorn Transmission Interruption
The signal flickers. For a moment, the Shepherd falls quiet, and another voice breaks through – not from the void, but from the Kingdoms Forlorn.
The gates of the Kingdoms Forlorn Pledge Manager have been reopened. For a brief window, you’ll be able to pick up a handful of items from the Wave 1 – pieces that many of you have been asking about, and which are drawn from the last reserves of production stock.
Here’s what’s waiting, while supplies last: Core Game, TTSF Expansion, Card Protectors and Princess Slavia & Little Ser.
These are not reprints, but leftovers from the very first production run. Once they’re gone, they won’t be coming back.
If you missed your chance the first time, this is your moment. The door won’t stay open long.
A note of thanks
Before we close, we’d like to return to something we mentioned in the last update. Back then, we noted how many of you had already made the jump from standees to miniatures. Since then, even more of you have followed, and the response has been overwhelming.
It wasn’t something we ever set out to push, but to see so many of you choosing to bring the Shepherd to life in three dimensions means a great deal to us. The shift speaks not only to the game itself, but to the work our 3D design team has been pouring into every sculpt, every line, every unsettling detail.
For the whole ITU crew, and especially for the artists and sculptors who’ve spent countless hours making sure these creatures feel as alive on the table as they do in the narrative, your trust is the best possible reward. Thank you for that. We’ll keep working to ensure that every miniature feels like it truly belongs in this strange, terrifying world we’re building together.
And of course, if you’d like to adjust your pledge – whether upgrading to miniatures or exploring other options – you can always do so through GameFlight.
That’s all for this transmission, Spacers.
The Finger Kingdom has only begun to reveal itself. The Conductor’s song lingers in the corridors. And soon enough, you’ll hear the echoes for yourself.
Until then – stay sharp, stay wary, and remember: not every sound in the dark is yours.
We’ll see you in the comments. If you want to dig deeper, share your thoughts, or just bask in the glow of a reactor, join us on Discord. And if you’re also walking the roads of Kingdoms Forlorn, we’d love it if you left us a rating on BGG, because every voice helps others discover the game.
