Mansions of Madness has long been known as one of the most atmospheric board games to come out of the modern era of hobby gaming. It combines mystery, horror, and narrative depth with cooperative problem-solving and the thrill of exploration. Over the years, numerous expansions have added new investigators, scenarios, and miniatures, deepening the already rich experience of descending into the shadowy corners of Arkham and beyond. Among the many figures introduced, one set that has often drawn attention are the hired guns included in the Streets of Arkham expansion. These figures stand out not because of their fantastical design or eldritch heritage, but because they are so grounded and immediately recognizable. They are, in essence, ordinary people with weapons, yet in the context of Mansions of Madness, they bring a layer of realism and grit to the table that supernatural horrors alone cannot provide.
When hobbyists first encounter these miniatures, what is most noticeable is how distinct they are from the other sculpts in the Mansions of Madness range. Many of the core figures in the game are investigators or monstrous entities—characters drawn from the pages of cosmic horror fiction or inspired by pulp-style adventurers. The hired guns, on the other hand, embody something more practical and human. They represent mercenaries, criminals, or simply those willing to lend their firepower to whoever can pay the price. Their role may not be steeped in ancient tomes or forbidden lore, but their presence suggests the influence of the gritty underworld that runs parallel to the supernatural events threatening Arkham.
From a painting perspective, these miniatures are also particularly satisfying to work with. The sculpting on the hired guns has a noticeable improvement over some of the older Mansions of Madness models. Earlier miniatures from the first edition of the game were often criticized for their soft detail and slightly rough molding, which sometimes left hobbyists struggling to bring out character in the paintwork. With the Streets of Arkham expansion, the design team refined their process, and the hired guns benefit from sharper features, more distinct folds in the clothing, and accessories that read clearly under the brush. These details allow painters to experiment with various color schemes and finishes, making the minis stand out when placed on the board alongside investigators and cultists.
One of the joys of working on figures like these lies in their versatility. Unlike some of the more elaborate monsters or investigators that demand a specific look to stay true to their art and lore, the hired guns offer freedom. Painters can experiment with a wide palette, choosing suits, jackets, or workwear that suggest anything from a noir detective to a back-alley bruiser. The neutral design makes them adaptable for other games as well, as many hobbyists have pointed out. Their generic nature means they can easily cross over into pulp skirmish systems, role-playing campaigns, or even other board games set in the early twentieth century. That level of adaptability makes them a valuable addition to any miniature painter’s collection.
Thematically, the inclusion of hired guns in a game like Mansions of Madness also carries interesting implications. The investigators, for all their courage, are often academics, journalists, or everyday citizens drawn into extraordinary circumstances. They wield knowledge, deduction, and a willingness to confront the unknown, but not always the brute force necessary to go toe-to-toe with cultists or eldritch monstrosities. The presence of mercenary figures hints at a darker reality—that sometimes, survival requires dealing with individuals motivated not by curiosity or altruism, but by money and pragmatism. In narrative terms, these characters flesh out the world of Arkham, suggesting a society where organized crime, underground dealings, and shadowy favors overlap with the encroaching supernatural.
Another aspect worth highlighting is how batch painting suits figures like these. Many miniature hobbyists know the value of efficiency, especially when tackling large collections. Miniatures that do not demand unique schemes or elaborate freehand designs can be painted in groups, saving both time and mental energy. The hired guns are ideal candidates for this method. With shared palettes of browns, greys, blacks, and muted tones, one can work on multiple figures at once, layering base coats, adding highlights, and applying washes in quick succession. Having a set of these figures primed and waiting on the painting desk allows hobbyists to slot them into ongoing sessions—finishing coats of paint alongside more elaborate characters, or experimenting with weathering techniques that might otherwise feel too risky on centerpiece models.
The painting approach also ties into the mood these figures create on the table. While brightly colored investigators or outlandish monsters grab immediate attention, the hired guns function almost as visual anchors. Their subdued palettes and grounded clothing styles contrast with the outlandish and fantastical elements, reinforcing the sense of a world where the mundane and the supernatural collide. In a dimly lit game session, these figures can evoke the image of trench coats blending into shadows, revolvers glinting under the faint light of a streetlamp, and the unspoken tension of men hired to stand between others and unimaginable danger.
From a gaming standpoint, even though the miniatures themselves do not always represent unique enemies in scenarios, their value as proxies or additional characters cannot be underestimated. Many groups use them to represent thugs, mobsters, or generic adversaries within custom scenarios or role-playing campaigns. This flexibility is one of the reasons the figures continue to find use outside the specific expansion that introduced them. For players who enjoy blending board gaming with storytelling, the hired guns act as bridges—figures that help populate the streets of Arkham with the kinds of characters that flesh out a believable city, filled not only with occult horrors but also with human menace.
It is also worth reflecting on the cultural resonance of such characters in the context of early twentieth-century America, the period in which Mansions of Madness is set. The hired gun archetype draws heavily from pulp fiction and noir traditions, where shadowy figures lurked in alleys, exchanging envelopes of cash or settling disputes with the crack of a pistol. By including them in the expansion, the designers captured a small but essential piece of that world, anchoring the supernatural horror with the all-too-human threat of violence for hire. These figures remind us that the dangers in Arkham are not only otherworldly; sometimes, they come from those whose morality has been eroded by greed, desperation, or survival.
Looking at the figures from a hobbyist’s perspective, they also serve as a reminder of the evolution of board game miniatures over the last decade. In the earlier years, board games often treated miniatures as functional components, sometimes lacking the detail and refinement associated with wargaming figures. With releases like Streets of Arkham, however, it became clear that expectations were changing. Players wanted models that not only served their mechanical function but also captured imagination at the painting desk. The hired guns, though understated compared to larger monsters, reflect this shift in design philosophy, showing that even the “ordinary” humans in a game can be given the sculpting attention that elevates them from mere tokens to miniature works of art.
In conclusion, the hired guns from Mansions of Madness: Streets of Arkham occupy a fascinating space in the broader landscape of hobby miniatures. They are not the stars of the show, nor do they boast the supernatural spectacle of other figures in the game. Yet their understated presence enriches the narrative, grounds the world in realism, and provides hobbyists with satisfying canvases for their painting. Whether seen as mercenaries lurking in the shadows of Arkham or simply as versatile sculpts adaptable to countless games, they embody the subtle but important ways in which detail, design, and imagination converge in the miniature hobby
For many people who approach Mansions of Madness, the miniatures are not just game pieces but creative canvases. The act of painting transforms them from plain grey plastic into vivid characters that add richness to the tabletop narrative. While centerpiece figures like grotesque monsters or iconic investigators often capture most of the attention, the so-called “generic” figures, such as the hired guns from the Streets of Arkham expansion, bring their own unique opportunities. They may not demand elaborate color schemes or dramatic flourishes, but they reward the painter in different ways. They can be completed quickly, used as test subjects for new techniques, or painted in batches to maximize efficiency.
One of the first steps in painting hired guns is deciding what kind of atmosphere they should convey. Unlike investigators, whose appearances are often tied to distinct personalities or historical archetypes, these mercenary figures are deliberately neutral. They can easily become mobsters, private enforcers, corrupt police officers, or simply bystanders who took a job for quick cash. This flexibility means that painters are free to explore palettes ranging from earthy work clothes to flashy suits. A dark trench coat with muted tones might suggest a brooding figure from noir cinema, while lighter or more colorful clothing could imply a less discreet character, perhaps a flashy gangster in over his head.
Because these minis are often painted alongside more complex projects, many hobbyists use them to practice batch-painting. Batch painting is the process of working on multiple models at once, applying the same stage of paint to each figure before moving to the next. For example, all base coats of trousers might be painted in one session, followed by shirts, coats, and accessories. This method saves time by reducing the number of times brushes are cleaned or paints are mixed, and it provides a rhythm to the painting process. The hired guns, with their relatively simple designs, are perfect for this approach. They lack the ornate details or complex surfaces of supernatural monsters, making them quick to progress through stages.
Another advantage is that their generic design allows painters to use leftover paint mixtures from other projects. Many hobbyists dislike wasting paint that has already been mixed on the palette. If a grey-brown blend is prepared for a cultist’s cloak or a monster’s base, it can easily be applied to trousers, boots, or jackets on the hired guns. Over time, this habit not only conserves materials but also builds a sense of visual cohesion across a collection, as subtle similarities in tones link disparate figures together. This kind of unplanned harmony can make a group of minis look like they belong to the same world, even if painted months apart.
Techniques such as dry brushing and washes also find a natural home on these models. Because they are meant to look like everyday people rather than larger-than-life heroes, they benefit from muted highlights and natural wear. A simple wash of brown or black ink over clothing creates depth in the folds and creases, while dry brushing lighter tones on jackets or shoes brings out texture. This approach not only speeds up painting but also reinforces the gritty realism that hired guns embody. These are not spotless or glamorous characters; they are people who live in alleys, smoke-filled back rooms, and the dangerous streets of Arkham. Their appearance should reflect a lived-in world.
Skin tones, though often a smaller surface area on such figures, also play a vital role. A limited group of minis like these offers a chance to experiment with different complexions, adding variety to the table. One figure might have pale, sickly skin suggestive of someone who spends more time indoors than outside, while another might have sun-weathered tones from working the docks or wandering the city streets. This diversity not only adds realism but also prevents the figures from blending together during play. When a group of hired guns appears on the board, subtle differences in skin tone, hair color, or clothing detail make them easier for players to distinguish at a glance.
Another painting approach is the use of weathering techniques. Since these figures represent street-level characters rather than pristine heroes, incorporating subtle signs of wear and tear can elevate their look. Sponging small amounts of dark paint onto boots can suggest mud or city grime. Adding scratches with a fine brush on leather jackets or belts can simulate years of use. Even tiny details like a smudge of rust on a weapon or a faint wash of soot around the cuffs can communicate a story. These touches require only a few extra minutes but add depth and immersion when players interact with the figures on the board.
One often-overlooked aspect of painting these figures lies in basing. The bases of miniatures are sometimes left simple, painted a single color or dry brushed quickly. Yet with figures like the hired guns, thoughtful basing can amplify the narrative. For example, cobblestone textures painted in grey with darker washes can suggest Arkham’s old streets. Adding tufts of static grass, shards of debris, or muted pigments can create the illusion of urban grit. Some painters even embed small props, like discarded bottles or broken planks, to reinforce the sense of a lived-in environment. Since these figures represent the human underbelly of Arkham, grounding them in detailed bases helps tie them visually to the broader setting.
Beyond the technical aspects, there is also the matter of personal creativity. Because the figures are intentionally generic, they are blank slates for storytelling. One painter might decide to theme their hired guns as members of a prohibition-era gang, dressing them in muted suits with pinstripes. Another might choose to depict them as corrupt private security, using darker tones with flashes of uniform-like detail. Others could push even further, creating an alternate-history look where the guns carry not just revolvers but stylized markings or insignias. In this way, every painter leaves their mark on the models, infusing them with stories that are not written into the rulebook but emerge through color and brushstroke.
It is also worth discussing the therapeutic rhythm that painting figures like these can provide. Not every painting session needs to be a monumental effort focused on centerpiece models. Sometimes, the satisfaction of painting a few generic figures is exactly what a hobbyist needs to maintain momentum. Working on models without the pressure of perfection allows for experimentation—trying new color blends, testing a wash consistency, or playing with highlights. Because the stakes feel lower, painters can relax and enjoy the process, often discovering techniques that later improve their more ambitious projects.
Furthermore, painting in groups of similar figures fosters consistency. Since hired guns often come in sets, painting them together helps refine techniques across multiple models. A painter might discover that a certain brown works particularly well for jackets and then repeat it across the group, creating cohesion. Or they may realize that a slightly different wash provides a better shadow effect and apply it to all of them. The result is not just efficiency but also a collective improvement in skill, as lessons learned from one figure immediately translate to the next.
In the broader context of miniature painting, these figures highlight an important philosophy: that not every miniature needs to be a centerpiece to be rewarding. Many hobbyists measure progress by the number of figures completed, and hired guns are ideal for boosting productivity without sacrificing quality. They strike a balance between detail and simplicity, offering just enough sculpted interest to make painting enjoyable while avoiding the overwhelming intricacies of more elaborate models. Completing them provides a sense of accomplishment that feeds back into the motivation to tackle larger projects.
Their adaptability across multiple games also adds to their long-term value as painted pieces. Once finished, they can easily serve roles in other board games, role-playing campaigns, or even skirmish wargames. A painted figure that can move fluidly between different systems extends its usefulness far beyond the Streets of Arkham expansion. This adaptability further motivates painters to give them attention, knowing their efforts will not be confined to a single box but will continue to enhance various hobby experiences.
Ultimately, the hired guns stand as a reminder that the miniature painting hobby is not only about spectacle but also about grounding. Their subdued details and practical designs contrast beautifully with the more flamboyant or horrifying elements of Mansions of Madness, anchoring the collection in realism. For painters, they offer an accessible yet satisfying challenge, encouraging experimentation and rewarding efficiency. For players, they bring visual depth and character to the table, embodying the human side of Arkham’s shadowy conflicts.
As simple as they may seem, the hired guns provide fertile ground for hobby expression, both in the quiet moments of brushwork and in the dynamic storytelling of game night. They are proof that even the most ordinary-looking figures can inspire creativity, connect painters to their craft, and enrich the broader world of tabletop gaming.
The Mansions of Madness series has always thrived on its ability to immerse players in the world of Arkham, Massachusetts—a fictional city where cosmic horrors lurk behind every corner and ordinary people find themselves entangled in mysteries far larger than themselves. Unlike many traditional board games, Mansions of Madness has never been about winning or losing in the usual sense. Instead, it has been about narrative discovery, teamwork, and the tense unfolding of events that often leave investigators battered, scarred, or outright consumed by forces beyond comprehension.
Within this framework, every miniature on the table serves as a symbol of the story being told. Cultists remind players of shadowy sects devoted to dark gods, deep ones echo the alien depths of forgotten oceans, and investigators embody the fragile spark of humanity that refuses to surrender. The hired guns introduced in the Streets of Arkham expansion carry their own symbolic weight. They may appear to be simple side characters or generic adversaries, but in reality, they add a unique human dimension to the mythos—one grounded not in eldritch magic but in greed, survival, and the underbelly of society.
When players encounter these figures on the table, they immediately change the tone of a scenario. Unlike a shoggoth or a nightmarish creature from another realm, a hired gun is relatable. Everyone understands the danger posed by an armed mercenary, someone willing to use violence for money. This familiarity makes them unsettling in a different way than the supernatural. Their motives are not unknowable—they are painfully clear. A hired gun is there because someone paid them. In a city as corrupt and fragile as Arkham, that implication adds a chilling layer of realism to the narrative. It reminds players that not every threat is cosmic; some are simply human, and perhaps those are the hardest to face.
Narratively, these figures often find themselves tied to organized crime, smuggling rings, or the seedy nightlife of Arkham’s back alleys. While investigators battle cults and monsters, they also cross paths with mob bosses and underworld figures who see opportunity in chaos. The hired guns embody this side of the world. They could be thugs hired by a criminal syndicate to keep investigators away from forbidden shipments, or private enforcers guarding the interests of wealthy patrons dabbling in the occult. Their role is to add texture to the city, making it feel like a living place where crime, corruption, and supernatural menace intertwine.
Gameplay-wise, these minis often serve as proxies for various human adversaries. While Mansions of Madness scenarios rely heavily on the companion app to dictate events and spawn enemies, the physical presence of miniatures like the hired guns enhances immersion. Instead of using the same cultist figure repeatedly, the hired guns can stand in for generic thugs, mobsters, or enforcers. This flexibility is particularly valuable in fan-made scenarios, where creators craft their own narratives using the components from the game. By providing a figure that looks human but not overly specific, the hired guns expand the palette of storytelling tools available to both designers and players.
Another way these figures influence gameplay is through the psychological tension they bring. When players see a supernatural monster on the board, they immediately understand the stakes—it’s dangerous, alien, and potentially unstoppable. With hired guns, however, the danger feels closer to home. They wield weapons the investigators themselves might use, and they represent an enemy that doesn’t need arcane rituals or eldritch pacts to pose a threat. This kind of realism sharpens the contrast between the everyday and the extraordinary. Players are reminded that Arkham is not just haunted by otherworldly creatures but also plagued by the darker impulses of humanity itself.
From a narrative design perspective, the hired guns also provide opportunities for moral ambiguity. In some scenarios, they might appear as straightforward enemies, obstacles to be overcome by force or clever maneuvering. But in others, they could be reluctant participants—men and women hired out of desperation, coerced by debts, or manipulated by shadowy employers. This opens up possibilities for storytelling that go beyond simple combat. Investigators might negotiate with them, bribe them, or even appeal to their humanity. These moments enrich the role-playing aspect of the game, offering players choices that affect how the story unfolds.
It is also important to consider how the hired guns reflect the broader themes of Mansions of Madness. At its heart, the game is about the fragility of ordinary people confronted with overwhelming odds. The investigators are not superheroes; they are flawed individuals armed with little more than courage, intuition, and the occasional revolver. By introducing hired guns—ordinary humans who happen to stand on the opposite side—the game reinforces this theme. It places investigators against foes who are their equals in many ways: same vulnerabilities, same weapons, same mortal limitations. This parity makes encounters with hired guns feel gritty and grounded, emphasizing the vulnerability of everyone involved.
In custom campaigns and fan adaptations, the figures often take on expanded roles. Some storytellers have used them to represent rival investigators—other people who, like the player characters, are digging into Arkham’s mysteries but for different reasons. Others have employed them as bodyguards for cult leaders, adding tactical depth to encounters where players must choose between focusing on the main antagonist or dealing with their armed protectors. Still others place them as neutral NPCs—characters who can be persuaded to help or hinder depending on how players approach them. In each case, the flexibility of the miniature’s design allows for wide-ranging creative use.
On the table, their visual impact should not be underestimated. A scenario with only monsters risks becoming predictable, but sprinkling in human adversaries keeps the narrative grounded. Seeing a group of hired guns standing between the investigators and their goal immediately creates a different kind of tension. They remind players that the streets of Arkham are as dangerous as its haunted mansions, and sometimes the greatest obstacle is not an ancient horror but the barrel of a gun wielded by someone with nothing to lose.
The hired guns also highlight one of the strengths of Mansions of Madness as a hybrid game that blends board gaming with storytelling. The figures provide tactile anchors for the imagination. Players don’t just hear that “a thug blocks your path”—they see it on the board, represented by a miniature with painted details that bring the moment to life. This physicality deepens immersion, ensuring that the narrative is not only heard but also seen and felt. When painted with care, the figures become characters in their own right, carrying the weight of stories that players will remember long after the game ends.
Perhaps the most profound contribution of these figures lies in their ability to remind players of the human cost of Arkham’s endless struggles. While cultists may be zealots and monsters may be abominations, the hired guns are often just people trying to survive. They are caught up in the same city, facing the same fears, and responding in ways that are not heroic but entirely human. Their presence complicates the moral landscape of the game. When investigators confront them, they are not simply facing evil but confronting choices about how far they themselves are willing to go in pursuit of victory.
Taken together, the hired guns serve as more than just pieces of plastic. They are narrative devices, thematic anchors, and gameplay tools that enrich the world of Mansions of Madness. They embody the grittier side of Arkham, where money changes hands in smoke-filled rooms and violence lurks behind closed doors. They remind players that horror is not only cosmic but also mundane, and sometimes the scariest enemy is the one whose motives are most familiar.
Final Thoughts
The hired guns from Mansions of Madness: Streets of Arkham are easy to overlook at first glance. They lack the spectacle of winged monstrosities or the iconic presence of investigators, and their sculpts are grounded in ordinary human detail rather than eldritch strangeness. Yet it’s precisely this ordinariness that makes them so compelling. They embody the intersection of the mundane and the supernatural—the reminder that Arkham is not only haunted by creatures from other worlds but also plagued by corruption, violence, and human frailty.
From a painter’s perspective, they are practical, versatile, and satisfying. Their clean sculpts, improved detail, and flexibility of palette make them perfect for batch painting or experimentation. They allow hobbyists to test colors, practice techniques, and add realism through weathering and basing. Each brushstroke brings them to life in a way that reinforces the gritty tone of Arkham’s streets. For many painters, they serve as a reminder that not every miniature needs to be a showpiece to be rewarding.
In gameplay and storytelling, the hired guns provide texture and contrast. They ground the scenarios in human menace, reminding players that the most immediate threats are not always otherworldly. Whether used as adversaries, proxies, or neutral characters, their presence enriches the narrative and expands the creative possibilities of both official and custom content. They highlight the blurred line between survival and morality, challenging investigators to confront enemies who are not zealots or monsters but people making choices in desperate circumstances.
Taken together, the hired guns illustrate the broader evolution of miniatures in modern board gaming. They show how even the most unassuming figures can carry narrative weight, inspire creativity, and connect players more deeply to the world on the table. Their understated role is a quiet strength: they don’t dominate the story, but they make the world feel more alive, more dangerous, and more believable.
In the end, these figures stand as small but meaningful contributions to the Mansions of Madness experience. They remind us that horror is not only found in the shadows of forgotten mansions or the whispers of alien gods, but also in the everyday choices of flawed, desperate people. That human element—captured in the humble sculpts of hired guns—may be what lingers longest after the dice are rolled and the story fades.