Let us take a moment, dear reader, to consider the general state of affairs. In the grand cosmic lucky dip, this world of ours has ended up with two rather remarkable substances—Splendidium and Horridium.

These twin marvels, in the hands of those with the requisite knack, have the curious property of making the lifeless sit up and take notice. Splendidium, as one might expect from the name, leans towards the sort of animation that leads to charming banter with one’s hatstand and the delightful sensation of being awoken by a singing teapot.

Horridium, on the other hand, is rather more the sort of thing that results in one’s overcoat attempting to throttle one in the dead of night.

At some point in the dim and distant past—historians are vague on the particulars, possibly due to their unfortunate tendency to be murdered by their subject matter—Horridium's influence spiralled out of control.  Rotten blighters who'd become tainted by the stuff, commanded a positive swarm of shadowy creations that rampaged across the land, necessitating the hasty erection of magical barriers powered by Splendidium to keep them at bay.

The grandest of these bastions of civilisation, saved by their magical walls, is the city - The Big Smoke, a place where one may enjoy a robust Martini served by a tailors dummy, motor about in an automobile that may well provide conversation en route, and listen to the wireless which is likely to have its own opinions on the day’s programming.

All of this delightful living, however, hinges on a rather pressing issue: The Great Rampart that keeps out the beastly Horridium-charged rotters needs a steady supply of Splendidium, and that means that someone—preferably someone dashing, daring, and slightly less concerned with their personal safety—must venture beyond into the darkness and fetch it.

Enter, stage left, the Bounders—those plucky souls who take on this most perilous of professions. Among them are the Splendid, who possess the rare ability to detect and manipulate Splendidium, the truly remarkable are known as Splendid Bounders, those who can both locate the stuff and survive long enough to haul it back and manipulate it. If they can stop a horrdium inspired creation making off their head, the world is their oyster, or possibly something even more appetising. And that, dear adventurer, is where you come in.

Lest you think this a purely charitable endeavour, allow me to reassure you—the city, in its magnanimity, asks for only a modest 10% cut of your hard-earned haul to keep the walls intact. The rest, by golly, is yours to do with as you see fit. Whether you choose to sell it to the highest bidder, animate your personal effects into a lively household chorus, or merely keep a little tucked away for a rainy day, is entirely up to you.

As for Horridium-crafted objects, these must be turned over for study upon re-entry to The Big Smoke, though with the proper licensing from the Board of Prohibited Items, one might just have the pleasure of reclaiming that particularly sinister yet oddly charming walking stick that insists on hissing at passersby.

By and large, the finest of the Splendid Bounders hail from old aristocratic families, who retreat between excursions to their vast, well-defended estates, where ancient butlers and doddering aunts persist in the belief that a chap ought to settle down and do something useful, like marrying well or attending tedious charity luncheons. Not all, however, are born to this rarefied existence - some are plucked like rare flowers from more obscure lineages.

At the age of twelve, all children are tested for the Splendid knack, and those who show promise are whisked off to be properly educated alongside the offspring of the well-heeled.

Fortunes can be made, names carved into legend, and family honour either upheld or dashed upon the rocks of scandal. Of course, the demands of meddlesome aunts, uncles, and other assorted senior relatives are ever-present, ensuring that even the most intrepid explorer may find themselves dragged into a matrimonial scheme or a ghastly garden party when they least expect it.

And so, dear reader, the call to adventure stands. Arm yourself with wit, charm, and possibly an animated umbrella with a talent for fencing, and prepare to embark upon the most splendidly dangerous profession the world has to offer.

Splendid Bounders, Tally-ho!

It is a well-established fact, much like the regrettable tendency of aunts to meddle in the affairs of their nephews, that every child, upon reaching the ripe old age of twelve, must undergo what is known in the better circles as simply The Test or the Splendid Test. This little ceremony determines whether young Egbert or Augustus has the requisite aptitude for communing with the magical gemstone Splendidium, or whether the poor blighter is doomed to a life of what one might call dull respectability in the civil service—the last resort of many non-Splendid chaps and chapets.

Now, a Splendid, as the cognoscenti will tell you, is a person blessed with the rather topping ability to detect, manipulate, and generally perform the most wizard stunts with this particular gemstone. The range of talent varies wildly—some can merely sense the stuff, which is useful in a limited, truffle-hound sort of way, while others handle it with effortless grace.

At the lower end of the scale, a chap might perform such modest parlour tricks as animating a door to swing open upon detecting one's presence. At the upper end of the spectrum, a true maestro of the art can imbue an entire country house with sentient life, ensuring that the drawing-room never misplaces the good Scotch again, which, as any gentleman will tell you, is the height of convenience.

The Four Grand Degrees of Splendid Animation

The application of Splendidium follows a strict hierarchy, much like the peerage, except with fewer gout-ridden barons.

Simple Animation (approx 5 stones) – The baseline of all Splendid workings, don't you know. At this stage, one is merely causing an object to move about under its own steam—chairs that toddle obediently into place, carpets that roll themselves up at bedtime, and that species of thing. 

Complex Animation (approx 100 stones) – The point at which things become, as one might say, moderately more intriguing. Here, a sword may extend its blade mid-swing to swat multiple opponents in one go, or a rifle might discharge not mere bullets, but lethal vampire bats, ensuring that the recipient of one's displeasure is both perforated and drained of the vital fluids in one efficient operation. I remember my Uncle George had a walking stick that could transform into a ladder when he needed to steal apples — an example of this principle at work, though admittedly not one that would find favor in the better Splendid circles.

Life Instincts (approx 500 stones) – This is where things take a turn for the truly sporting. A motor-car, for example, might be imbued with the essence of a racehorse, ensuring that it gallops along the thoroughfares with all the vim and vigor of its four-legged counterpart. Similarly, a shield might develop the reflexes of a well-trained gentleman's gentleman, leaping into action to deflect blows whilst allowing one's hands to remain free for the important business of clouting one's foes about the ears or, in more peaceful circumstances, raising a glass of the needful.

Achieving this level of Splendid ability requires a great deal of study—one cannot simply wave a hand at a motorcar and expect it to develop the manners of a thoroughbred without first spending several dreary afternoons studying both the rituals and racetrack.

Sentient Life (approx 2000 stones) – The pinnacle of Splendid mastery, attempted only by the most dazzling of the breed, the sort of chap who gets invited to the best houses. This is where one moves from merely animating an object to bestowing it with full-blown thought, personality, and opinions—which, while impressive, does come with the risk of saddling oneself with a wardrobe that refuses to house unfashionable trousers or a hat that sulks if taken to the wrong sort of party. My cousin Claude once animated his motorcar to such a degree that it refused to start unless he was wearing a matching tie and pocket square. Dashed inconvenient on rainy days.

All of these arcane arts, naturally, require rigorous study at the Splendid Universities, where hopeful young scholars dedicate themselves to the mastery of these rituals. As a general rule, the more powerful and complex the effect, the longer the ritual, and the greater the likelihood of a tutor peering over one's shoulder and making the sort of disapproving noises that would not be out of place coming from an aunt upon discovering one has become engaged to a chorus girl. And so, dear reader, should you find yourself in possession of the Splendid knack, the world is yours to enchant.

Tally-ho and pip-pip!

Ah, The Big Smoke! The largest of the walled cities and one of endless delights.

It's a place where a fellow may step out of his front door with no particular plan in mind and yet find himself, before luncheon, having acquired a new hat, a pressing engagement at his club, a minor scandal to his name and some cryptic clue about the whereabouts of that much prized Splendidium out in the back-and-beyond.

It is a place where the streets throng with the industrious, the intoxicated, and the thoroughly perplexed, where hansom cabs, motorcars, and the occasional determined bicycle weave through the chaos cheerful disregard for life and limb on their actual faces. Getting shouted out by a bicycle is worth the entrance fee alone. 

The air is thick with the scent of roasting chestnuts, fresh ink from the morning papers, and whatever it is that gets trodden in by Bounders from outside the city's magical walls.

In the parks, small dogs of aristocratic lineage trot beside their owners, casting baleful looks at any pedestrian who dares to be insufficiently distinguished, while in the gentlemen’s clubs house elderly majors slumbering peacefully under the delusion that they are there making plans for another foray into the wild wilderness. Theatres glitter, restaurants bustle, and at every hour of the day or night, one can find a cheerful establishment willing to serve a man a bracing cocktail and a word of encouragement before he sallies forth once more into the cruel world beyond the city walls.

Ah, the Back-and-Beyond! Not so much a single spot on the map as an all-encompassing term for anywhere that lacks the reassuring embrace of good, solid Splendidium walls. And that, old bean, is rather a lot of places. Out there, beyond civilisation’s comforting glow, one finds rolling countryside of the wilder sort, punctuated by the crumbling remains of some long-fallen, terribly clever people whose downfall, one suspects, had something to do with that frightful menace, Horridium. The precise details of their tragic misstep have been lost in the mists of time, but the general impression one gathers is that it was all rather ghastly.

The Back-and-Beyond is not merely empty wilderness, oh dear me, no. It teems with persons and other entities, all of whom have been touched—if not outright walloped—by the corrupting influence of Horridium. This, naturally, makes it a place most sensible fellows prefer to avoid. And yet, there exist certain rare souls, known far and wide as Splendid Bounders, who actually venture forth into this madness, and what’s more, do so with a certain insouciant flair. Their incentive? Scattered within the treacherous reaches of the Back-and-Beyond lie caches of Splendidium, waiting for some dashing sort to unearth them. Without these invaluable treasures, the walls of civilisation would come a-tumbling down, leaving everything at the mercy of Horridium’s creeping grasp. And when that happens, my dear old thing, all the world becomes the Back-and-Beyond. Which, as you will agree, simply wouldn’t do.

The good folk of Ecclesia direct their prayers, hopes, and the occasional sharply worded plea toward the Divine Mother—a most venerable goddess of compassion, order, and unwaveringly well-packed picnics. Worshipped from gilded cathedrals to humble roadside shrines (often doubling as emergency parasol depots), the Mother Divine is the spiritual cornerstone of the realm. Her Church is run exclusively by priestesses—no chaps in cassocks here, thank you very much—each one a bastion of serene authority, perfect posture, and the sort of voice that can quiet a room, a riot, or a rowdy tea queue.

These holy ladies possess prayers of considerable power. With a few well-chosen words and a subtly raised eyebrow, they can mend broken bones, ease weary minds, and—perhaps most critically—banish the loathsome effects of Horridium. That sinister substance, known to awaken dark thoughts in furniture and tempt wallpaper toward anarchic inclinations, stands no chance against a determined priestess and her prayerbook. Of course, such divine interventions are not entirely free; a modest donation is expected. Not payment, mind you—Heavens no! Merely a polite spiritual gratuity, preferably placed in the collection plate with a discreet rustle.

All of this sacred orderliness rather sets the tone for Ecclesian society, ruled from the ever-foggy splendour of the Big Smoke by Her Majesty the Queen. The nation is a classic example of what scholars term a light matriarchy—more lavender-scented guidance than tyrannical matronage. Men and women pursue careers of all sorts with cheerful equality—be they aeronauts, natural philosophers, or professional Disbelievers (licensed, of course)—but within the domestic sphere, the reins rest firmly in the gloved hands of the family matriarch. These formidable women oversee the affairs of the home, chart the course of family destinies, and have been known to send a son-in-law packing with nothing more than a sigh and a look.

In short, Ecclesia is a realm where the divine is matronly, the sacred is scented with rosewater, and one would do very well indeed to mind one’s manners—particularly in front of a priestess with a glowing umbrella and a disapproving expression.

There’s a general consensus among the tea-drinking classes that those who make an Impression on us in life—capital I, hand gestures encouraged—are also rather more inclined to linger after death, making a fine nuisance of themselves in curtains, mirrors, and committee meetings. Great personalities, it seems, rarely know when to take their final bow. Indeed, the world of Splendid Bounders is agreeably riddled with spectres, shades, and dearly departed aunties who still insist on correcting one’s posture from beyond the veil.

The cause of all this posthumous activity? Well, opinions differ. Some say it’s the natural result of a life lived with flair, folly, and frequent newspaper appearances. Others blame Splendidium—those radiant, good-natured gems that power so many of our gadgets, giggletraps, and animated haberdashery. The debate rages on (often over port) as to whether the gems themselves tether a soul to the mortal coil, or whether the sort of people who use Splendidium tend to live the kind of lives that echo loudly enough to rattle the afterlife. Either way, the correlation is clear: a splendid life rather tends to become a persistent afterlife.

And what, one asks, are ghosts like? Well, much like one’s extended family—chatty, prone to repetition, and occasionally floating above the furniture. Ghosts can, with sufficient willpower, interact with the physical world: opening doors, tipping hats, writing cryptic warnings in bathroom steam. But such efforts require considerable concentration, and not all spectres are up to the task. Some are rather good at it (former librarians and petty bureaucrats, chiefly), while others struggle to do much more than flicker at inopportune moments and mutter about unfinished bridge games.

They can walk through walls—yes, yes, very impressive—but they prefer not to. It is, by all accounts, a thoroughly horrid experience. One ghost described it as “like bathing in gooseberry jam while someone screams your secrets into your ear.” Most choose to float around solid objects, thank you very much, unless absolutely necessary or showing off for tourists.

A number of ghosts serve with great dignity in The Parliament of Shadows that upper political chamber reserved for the posthumously opinionated. These honourable haunts drift through debates, pass legislation, and occasionally forget which century they’re legislating in. A common affliction among elder ghosts is the tendency to drift off mid-conversation, gazing wistfully at nothing in particular and muttering about long-lost hats, mistresses, or marmalade rationing during the Siege of Tiffleton. The older the ghost, the more pronounced this becomes—rather like a lantern on its last flicker, or Uncle Percival after a second brandy and a good cry.

But do not think for a moment that becoming a ghost ensures eternal mischief. Far from it. Spectres, for all their persistence, are not immune to time. Eventually, they fall prey to a phenomenon they grimly call the Fade. It is rather like retirement, only considerably quieter. No ghost currently wafts about beyond the age of 300, and most dissolve into the ether before 200—often mid-sentence, mid-waltz, or mid-petition to the Ministry of Road Closures.

In conclusion: live grandly, haunt stylishly, and if one must return as a ghost, do try to avoid walking through walls unless you absolutely must. And whatever you do, try not to fade before tea.

CHARACTERISTICS

Roll 4d6 discard the lowest dice and add up the other three. Do this six times and then assign the totals to the following characteristics:

Vim

Sleuthing

Panche 

Fibs 

Noggin 

Splendid 

MODIFIERS 

Mark each with the appropriate Modifier:

HIT POINTS: Vim Modifier + 10

Reputation: Roll d20

Sanity: Roll 1d20

MONEY

Start with 200 GP

CHOOSE A BACKGROUND

The Lover Background

The Fighter Background

The Cad Background

The Bookworm Background

The Scout Background

NAME: 

BACKGROUND:

CHARACTERISTICS

Vim:

Sleuthing:

Panche:

Fibs:

Noggin: 

Splendid:

HP:

Reputation:

Sanity:

Weapons:

Equipment:

Vehicles:

Money:

MODIFIERS

+2 Sleuthing, +1 Vim, -1 Fibs

Roll on Regular Weapons Table

SCOUTING SKILLS

Forager +4 to any Sleuthing Check related to foraging in the Back-and-Beyond. 

Camouflage +4 to any Fibs Check related to hiding in the Back-and-Beyond. 

Hunter +4 to any Vim Check for Hunting in the Back-and-Beyond

TRANSPORT

As a great explorer of the Back-and-Beyound you are the only class that starts the game with a vechile:

1. Nosey Talking Malacca Cane - This walking stick is chatty and whilst holding it once a day you can re-roll any sleuthing check as it notices things most people miss.
2. Bicycle - +0 speed +6 handling 5 HP 50 GP
3. Instinct Bicycle - +2 Speed +4 Handling 100 GP
4. Motorbike - +3 Speed +2 Handling 250 GP
5. Car - +5 Speed +4 Handling
6. Fast Car - +8 +3 Handling
7. Instinct Motorbike - +8 Speed +4 Handling 
8. Instinct Car - +10 Speed +5 Handling 
9. Sentient Bike - +10 Speed +3 Handling
10. Sentient Car - +12 Speed +4 Handling

1. Peacock - Double the Cost Due to Amazing Decoration 
2. Ox - +10 HP
3. Dog +5 Handling
4. Horse +5 Speed

1. Boarding ramp - a passenger can go from that car into another car in range without a Vim roll
2. +5 Speed
3. +5 Handling
4. +8 Speed
5. +8 Handling
6. Attack 1d6
7. Attack 1d8
8. 2 Attacks 1d6
9. Chameleon - The car can change colour
10. Roll twice more on the table

MODFIERS 

+2 Vim, +1 Panache, -1 Sleuthing

Add 1d10 to your HP

FIGHTING SKILLS

Max Damage - Once per encounter you can opt to inflict maximum damage on a successful attack role.

Max Defense - Once per encounter you can opt to reduce damage inflicted on you by 1d4

FIGHTER WEAPONS TABLE

1. Sword
2. Double-handed Sword
3. Battle Axe
4. Pistol
5. Potato Gun
6. Boxing Glove on a Chain
7. Instincts Umbrella Shield
8. Instinct Cricket Bat  
9. Sentient Grenade Golf Clubs golf club with advantage on the roll
10. Vampire Bat Shotgun

MODIFIERS 

+2 Panache, +1 Fibs, -1 Noggin

Add 1d20 to your starting sanity

CURRENT ROMANTIC STATE

Role 1d10 to see your character's current romantic state:

1. Desperately Devoted – Head over heels, utterly besotted, and prepared to recite ghastly poetry or take up unsuitable hobbies to impress the object of affection.
2. Blissfully Unaware – Completely oblivious to the fact that a keen admirer is pining away in the background, often due to an unfortunate preoccupation with golf or newts.
3. Uneasily Engaged – Bound by duty, fear, or sheer force of personality on the part of their betrothed, but inwardly quaking at the prospect of a lifetime together.
4. Erroneously Entangled – Mistakenly believed to be engaged due to a mix-up, often involving an old school friend, a fearsome aunt, or an ill-advised attempt at gallantry.
5. Faintly Hopeful – Gazing longingly from afar, bolstered by a belief that a lucky break (or a well-placed newt) might yet turn the tide.
6. Disastrously Jilted – Recently abandoned at the altar or informed via terse note that the engagement is off, often due to a rival’s superior poetry-writing ability.
7. Horrifyingly Pursued – The unfortunate target of someone else’s affections, seeking desperately to avoid a fate worse than death (i.e., marriage to a determined and overenthusiastic suitor).
8. Tactically Wooing – Crafting elaborate (and frequently absurd) schemes to win over a romantic interest, often with the misguided assistance of a well-meaning but hopelessly inept friend.
9. Reluctantly Resigned – Accepting their fate in a relationship that no longer sparks joy, usually because they fear the alternative involves a strong-minded aunt intervening.
10. Triumphantly Free – Recently extricated from an unwelcome entanglement, often with the aid of a clever valet, a lucky misunderstanding, or the strategic application of a large dog.

GIFT FROM FORMER LOVER

1. Dear John Letter - A letter from your ex explaining all your faults and revealing some shameful things you did.

2. Terrance the Toaster Oven - This toaster oven can walk, it cannot talk but if it could it would probably be about crumpets as it refuses to cook anything else. 

3. The Cow-Crested Lamp - A silver cow-crested lamp that walks along and occasionally moos providing light wherever you wander.

6: Augustus The Cat: An enterprising talking cat with an air of quiet menace, known for his habit of appearing unexpectedly in rooms and unnerving guests with his Splendidium induced sentience.

LOVE BONUS

+3 To any Panache roll made to achieve a romantic end

+3 To any Fib roll made to achieve a romantic end

MODIFIERS

+2 Fibs, +1 Panache, -1 Vim

Roll on the Regular Weapons Table

Add 1d10 to starting Reputation

ILL GOTTEN GOODS TABLE

1. Spring Heeled Jack - Illegal Horridium created sentient boots that let you jump double the distance and even spring 10ft in the air. The boots are particularly inspired if you are doing bad deeds in which case its effects are doubled. 
2. Double Sided Coin - Heads both sides a 15 Sleuth will reveal the rouse. 
3. Cigar Smoke Bombs - You have a pack of 20 cigars that when you light one creates enough smoke that the party can run away in the confusion without counter attacks. 
4. Fireproof Suit - Its a suit that is fire proof reduces fire damage by 1d8
5. Incriminating Letter - A letter that you can use to your advantage. Agree with the GM who it is about and how it came into your possession. 
6. Booze Hound - A dog that can sniff the nearest cocktail

FORTUNE TABLE

Most players start with 100 GP but the Cad's fortunes fluctuate violently from rags to riches. Roll 1d6:

1. You owe someone 300 GP
2. You owe someone 100 GP
3. You are broke
4. You have 200 GP
5. You backed a winner you have 500 GP
6. You've come into a bit of cash in a shady manner you have 1000 GP

CADISH DISPOISTION 

Roll 1d4 to discover your personality.

1. Self-Interested – He prioritises his own pleasure and convenience above all else, showing a shocking disregard for the feelings of others. +5 to reputation but roll again on the ill-gotten good table.
2. Dubious Inner Circle – His closest allies tend to be bookies, shady clubmen, and the sort of chaps who know an excellent tip on the 3:30 at Northham. Once a session you can call upon one of your shady connections for info.
3. Unshakable Nerve – No matter how appalling his behaviour, the cad carries on with insufferable confidence, often treating his misdeeds as if they were jolly good fun. You can reroll a reputation check once a day.
4. Smooth-Tongued – The cad can talk his way out of most scrapes, often deploying honeyed words and outrageous flattery to get his way. +1 to Panache modifier 

MODIFIERS

+2 Noggin, +1 Sleuthing, -1 Vim

Roll on the Regular Weapons Table

Start on Sanity -10 and Reputation -10

THINGS YOU'VE LEARNT 

Roll and increase your modifier accordingly

1. +2 to Sleuthing 
2. +2 to Noggin 
3. +2 to Splendid 
4. +3 to Sleuthing 
5. +3 to Noggin 
6. +3 to Splendid 

TALKING BOOK

Roll on the table below you have a talking book on that topic that adds +4 to any roll involving that topic:

1. History & Society  
2. Horridium/Splendidium
3. Detective
4. Engineering

1. Knife 
2. Sword
3. Battle Axe
4. Pistol
5. Rifle
6. Shotgun

Jolly Good Fisticuffs – Proficiency in the noble art of pugilism; useful for settling disputes in clubs and alleyways. Your fists now do 1d6 damage. +1 for every time you pick the skill again. 

Derring-Do – The ability to perform feats of reckless bravery with impeccable style. +1 to any check involving reckless and dangerous activities. 

Elastic as Treacle - Once per session, you can make a roll using a different modifier than the one called for by the GM

Born Bounder - add 1d4 more healing after a night resting in the Back-and-Beyond. 

Silver-Tongued Devil – A knack for fast-talking one’s way out of sticky situations, including debts, duels, and dubious engagements. +1 to Panache 

Ordinary Chap/Chapet - add 1d6 to any roll attempting to blend into a crowd.

Filthy Liar – Mastery of being a gifted fibber +1 Fibs

Gumption – A solid reserve of pluck and resolve, allowing one to resist cowardice in the face of beastly Horridium nasties. +1 to any check attacking creations of Horridium. 

One For All - Add +2 damage to any attack on a target that has already been attacked by another member of your party. 

Aquatically Inclined - you can breath underwater, perhaps you're part mermaid or something.

Glorious Gesticulation – You can communicate effectively through elaborate hand signals and raised eyebrows, even with those who don’t share your language.

Splendid Spotting – An almost supernatural ability to locate caches of Splendidium, even in the most inconvenient locations. +1 to all checks to locate Splendidium. 

Back-and-Beyond Lore – Knowing about places and creations of horridium in the back-and-beyond +1 to all Noggin checks in the Back-and-Beyond. 

Tiffin in Trying Times – The ability to maintain proper tea service even in the most wretched of locales. Once a day you can add +1 HP to all party members by serving them tea. 

Dancefloor Dynamism – One part ballroom grace, one part combat effectiveness. Never underestimate a well-timed Charleston kick. +1 to any check related to dancing.

Duck-n-Diver - use your Panache modifier to dodge

Brisk Escape – The talent for making oneself scarce at precisely the right moment. You can run away from a fight in progress with out being attacked as you retreat as an opportunity attack by your enemies.

Hitting the Books - +1 to Noggin

Iron Stomach – Resistance to dubious cuisine and suspicious beverages.

Discreet Scrambling – The ability to scuttle up trees, over fences, and through windows with surprising grace. +1 to checks related to those activities.

Resourceful Blighter - You can use any to hand object as a 1d6 weapon +1 every time you take this skill after the first

Beastly Yapper - +1d6 to any attempt to tame or calm a non sentient animal

Double Trouble - you can wield two weapons at once - deduct the damage done by the most damaging weapon from the attack roll.

Blade Bounder - you can use two knives thrown without dual wield penalty

Unbearable Aesthete - rather than resorting to prayer you can be exorcised by attending a gallery or engaging with high art in some way

Night Bird - +1 to all checks made after dark

Knife in Every Pocket - you never run out of throwing knives 

Bonk em' on the Noggin - When you melee attack some weaker than you they are immoblized for 1d4 rounds but this can only be done once to each target

In Love with Your Weapon - When using a chosen weapon you add 1d4 to all attack roles. If the weapon breaks the skill is gone with it.

Roguish Wink – Once per session, you can reroll a failed attempt at charming or deceiving someone, provided it’s accompanied by a wink of sufficient roguishness.

Dam Fine Detective - +1 to Sleuthing 

Hat-Throwing Heroics – Your hat (or another stylish accessory) can be thrown to distract, disarm, or bamboozle an opponent. This requires a successful ranged attack roll. 

Sponge-Like Noggin – You absorb trivia and odd facts at an alarming rate. Once per session, you may declare you "read about this somewhere" and receive a +1 to a related check or the check of a party member.

Bally Good Brawler – If fighting in a pub, club, or other social venue, you get +1 to fisticuffs. Nothing like a bit of furniture smashing to liven things up.

Absolutely Spiffing Attire – Once per day, if impeccably dressed, you gain a +1 bonus to any social check.

Stiff Upper Lip – Once per session, you may ignore the effects of exhaustion, injury, or general wretchedness for a crucial roll. Complain about it later.

A Bounder’s Balance – You can walk along tightropes, fences, or narrow ledges with +3 to your roll. Tumbles are undignified, after all.

Devilish Deduction – +1 to any Sleuthing roll when you dramatically announce your conclusions, regardless of their actual accuracy.

Absolutely No Idea! – Once per session, if completely clueless in a situation, you may roll with advantage simply by confidently asserting a random fact.

Love of Claret - When you kill a foe you get a +1 to a future attack roll. They can be stored up but disappear after a long rest

Tough Nut - +1 to Vim

Barbed Bounder - Once per session you can force a target to make an opposed Panache check against your panache roll if you win your insult causes them to lose their cool and possibly give something away. 

Perfect Parry - On making a parry successfully you can add +2 to your next attack roll

Swashbuckler - You can use your Panache modifier for melee attacks.