It has been some time since I willingly stepped back inside a church, and I am pleased to report that the roof did not fall in, the walls did not crack, and no sudden bolt of divine judgement reduced me to a smoking pair of boots. Admittedly, this may have had something to do with the fact that this particular church belongs to Dagon, which means the usual rules of holiness, salvation and basic structural integrity probably do not apply. In fact, if anything was going to be cursed, damp, suspiciously fish scented and full of people best avoided after dark, this was always going to be it.

I have always liked Jonathan Haythornthwaite’s Dracula’s America, partly because it combines two things that have rarely done me any harm on the tabletop: the Old West and deeply questionable supernatural decision making. It is a setting full of gunfighters, vampires, secret cults, cursed posses and all the other healthy influences one naturally looks for in a wholesome afternoon’s gaming.

So, after only ten or so years of careful contemplation, strategic neglect, and the occasional ceremonial moving of the box from one shelf to another, the Church of Dagon has finally emerged from the lead pile. This is not procrastination, of course. It is a mature and considered hobby process, involving long term planning, deep reflection, and a great deal of pretending not to notice the unopened packs every time I walked past them.

The figures have been waiting patiently for their moment, although in the case of the Church of Dagon, “patiently” probably means muttering in the dark, growing scales, and conducting small private rituals among the other neglected miniatures. There is something entirely appropriate about a cursed cult spending a decade hidden away in a box, slowly gathering strength while I was distracted by other projects. If anything, it feels like proper background development.

Now they have finally been dragged into the light, or at least into the slightly dusty glow of the painting desk, it seems only fair to give them the attention they deserve. This particular congregation is not overly concerned with salvation, good works, or improving the moral condition of the frontier. Their interests appear to lie more in tentacles, mutation, damp robes, suspicious chanting, and the sort of sermon that ends with everyone being dragged into the water.

In that sense, the Church of Dagon is probably the perfect Dracula’s America project. It lets me reduce the lead pile while also indulging in something grim, strange, and deeply unhealthy looking. More importantly, it allows me to pretend that returning to figures bought over a decade ago is not a sign of hobby disorganisation, but a carefully timed resurrection of an eldritch cult whose hour has finally come.

One of the more unsettling posses in Dracula’s America is the Church of Dagon. In a game already full of vampires, cursed soldiers, witches, skinwalkers and dark powers, the Church of Dagon manages to feel different. They are not simply another band of gunmen with a few strange habits. They are a cult, and worse still, they are a cult that believes the world is not ending, but finally beginning.

The Church of Dagon belongs to the stranger, wetter and more rotten corners of the Weird West. These are not men and women riding out under a clean prairie sky in search of gold, revenge or political power. They come from the swamps, river towns, hidden settlements and forgotten coastal communities where old beliefs have taken root in the mud. Their faith is not Christian, although they may borrow the language of revival meetings and frontier preaching. Their god is older, colder and far less interested in saving souls.

Dagon himself comes from the deep places. In Lovecraftian horror he is associated with ancient sea powers, monstrous underwater races, human corruption and the terrible idea that humanity is not alone, not special, and not even entirely human in some bloodlines. That makes him a perfect fit for Dracula’s America. The setting already imagines an America where history has gone badly wrong, where Dracula rules, supernatural forces walk openly or half openly, and ordinary men and women must survive in a world where the old certainties have collapsed. Into that world steps the Church of Dagon, promising revelation, power and belonging to those willing to kneel before something vast and inhuman.

The cult’s appeal is easy enough to understand. The American frontier was full of people living under pressure. War, poverty, disease, displacement, greed and isolation all shaped frontier life. In the world of Dracula’s America, those pressures are made worse by the presence of real monsters and real magic. A preacher who claims to have seen the truth beneath the waves, or heard the voice of an ancient power in a dream, might find followers among the desperate, the broken and the ambitious. Some would join out of fear. Some would join for power. Some would join because they had already begun to change and needed someone to tell them the change was holy.

That is the real horror of the Church of Dagon. They do not necessarily see themselves as villains. Like many cults, they believe they are the chosen few. They speak of revelation, judgement and the return of powers older than mankind. They believe the strange mutations among them are not signs of corruption, but marks of blessing. A man with scaled skin, webbed hands or something worse beneath his coat is not pitied by the faithful. He is proof. He is a sign that Dagon has noticed them.

On the tabletop this gives the posse a very strong identity. A Church of Dagon force should not feel like a normal outlaw gang with a monster added on. It should feel like a religious procession gone wrong. The Priest of Dagon is the centre of the group, not merely as a leader, but as the mouthpiece of something beyond the world. Around him are cultists, gunmen and hybrids, all tied together by a shared belief that the old order must be washed away. Their weapons may be pistols, rifles and shotguns, but their real strength lies in fanaticism and the promise of eldritch power.

For painting and modelling, the Church offers plenty of character. Robes, dark coats, swamp colours, pallid flesh, scaled skin, glassy eyes and hints of sea green or muddy brown all suit them well. They should look as though they have stepped out of a decaying chapel beside a black river. A few normal looking cultists are useful, because they make the hybrids seem even more disturbing. The best horror is often in the contrast between the ordinary and the impossible. A man with a revolver and a preacher’s hat is frightening enough. The thing beside him with claws, scales and a half human face is worse.

The Church of Dagon also offers excellent scenario possibilities. They might be searching for a relic dredged from a riverbed, kidnapping townsfolk for a midnight rite, defending a hidden shrine in the bayou, or trying to summon something that should have remained beneath the water. Other factions have every reason to oppose them. The Salem Sisterhood would see them as a threat to the arcane balance. The Twilight Order would recognise them as servants of abomination. Ordinary posses might simply want to stop children disappearing from town. Even Dracula’s servants might not welcome a rival power gathering worshippers in the dark places of America.

What I like most about the Church of Dagon is that they bring a different kind of horror to the Weird West. Vampires are aristocratic horror. Were beasts are savage horror. Ghosts are tragic horror. The Church of Dagon is cult horror. It is the horror of secret meetings, whispered prayers, strange births, locked church doors, and the feeling that something ancient is waiting patiently beneath the surface. In Dracula’s America, that makes them a wonderful faction for anyone who wants their games to feel less like a shootout and more like the final act of a very bad sermon.

The West was already dangerous enough with guns, vampires and ambition. The Church of Dagon makes it clear that some dangers did not come from the West at all. Some came from below.

Eight figures is not a lot to paint so I will put one on the end of each painting stick and will have them done in a reasonable time frame……………….or NOT!