MRF Tools started as a hobby of an engineer who already had a day job designing much bigger things. In 2010, Andrii — a mechanical design engineer from Ukraine — started MRF Engineering as a one-man freelance practice; a year later it grew into a proper design bureau, developing industrial equipment, automated machines and vending systems. Fifteen years on, that bureau is still his day job. The credit card multitool was what happened after hours.
The three letters come from science, not from a branding agency. From 2006 to 2010, Andrii wrote his PhD research on magnetorheological clutches and brakes — devices built around magnetorheological fluids, MRF for short: smart liquids that stiffen in a magnetic field. When it was time to name the bureau, the abbreviation he'd spent four years living with was the obvious choice.
So yes — the multitool in your wallet is technically named after a fluid that turns solid on command. We find that fitting.
In 2015, Andrii went shopping for a credit card multitool and found nothing worth buying. Every card on the market was stamped from thin, soft steel — a shape of a tool rather than a tool. So he did what design engineers do when the market disappoints them: opened CAD and machined one for himself. The very first function he field-tested was, of course, the bottle opener. It passed.
The first prototypes carried a different logo — "MT". One card became five: Universal, SmartRuler, Adventur, Extreme and Lumberjack, first generation of each. They were rough, honest pieces of steel — you can see them in these photos, opening cans and tightening bicycle nuts back in 2015–2016. Small batches sold locally in Ukraine, mostly to friends and friends of friends. The feedback loop was brutal and priceless: every buyer was within driving distance.
In January 2017, Dmytro joined the team, and the hobby got a proper name: MRF Multitools — after the engineering bureau it grew out of. In May, Victor came aboard: an outdoor photographer and the brand's chief field tester, the man responsible for most of the early photos where cards chop wood and start fires. Second-generation tools went to eBay and Amazon.
In October 2017 the team launched its first Kickstarter — Universal 3.0, a 60-in-1 credit card multitool machined from hardened stainless steel — with a parallel run on Indiegogo, as with several early campaigns. They asked for $5,000; 745 Kickstarter backers pledged $26,684. Then the honest part began.
Early units shipped with a rough, laser-marked finish that some backers described, accurately, as "rusty-looking." The cards worked — they cut, tightened, opened and measured — but they didn't look like the campaign photos. Our first production run taught us more about surface finishing than any engineering textbook, mostly because 745 people were grading our homework in public. We rebuilt the finishing process. By 2020, a machinist from Ohio inspected his card and reported only "very VERY minor surface marks" — and made it his daily carry.
The next campaigns grew fast. SmartRuler (2018) — a drafting instrument for engineers and designers — became our record: $53,786 from 1,228 backers, 1076% of the goal, and our first product machined from Grade 5 titanium. Adventur 3.0, a credit card that chops wood when clamped into its handle, raised $46,552. In 2019 we added titanium-nitride coatings and the Tattoo line — cards with hand-drawn engraved artwork. By 2020 the team described itself to backers with full transparency: five people — one engineer and a small crew, each doing their part of the job. That was the whole company shipping worldwide.
Success brought imitation. Sellers in China bought a few early Adventur units, copied the outline and started stamping it from soft 2 mm steel; the replicas are still sold on marketplaces worldwide. They stole the shape — the technology didn't fit in the box. A stamped card bends where a milled one bites: our cards are CNC-machined from solid Grade 5 titanium or hardened 440C steel, and every single card is hardness-tested (HRC) before shipping.
Flattering. Useless.
In September 2021, Universal 4.0 was funded by 250 backers. Manufacturing ran on schedule; shipping was set for early spring 2022. On February 24, russia invaded Ukraine.
Near Kharkiv, russian forces bombed and looted Dmytro's home — the point from which all seven previous campaigns had actually shipped, and our warehouse with it. Most of the finished multitools were lost. The city where the cards are machined — and where Andrii lived — stood besieged from almost every side. Production froze. Andrii dismissed the workers so they could save their families, moved his own children west, and built barricades. Part of our engineering team joined the Armed Forces of Ukraine.
In May 2022, the Armed Forces pushed the russians back from Kharkiv. Dmytro and his family came through safe; the home they built did not.
A year into the war, we wrote five words to our backers: "We are not scammers." Then we spent the next year proving it — restoring production between rocket strikes and blackouts, finding a new contractor for every supplier the war had erased.
On February 16, 2024, the first 120 tracking numbers went out. On March 7, 2024, the final parcels shipped. Every obligation of a campaign funded in September 2021 was fulfilled — two and a half years later, two of them at war.
"You and your team stood by your obligations… This was not just a business for you, but a matter of honor."
— PIERPAOLO, ITALY
"I did not expect to receive anything, and I was ok with it. Your country was invaded… but still you delivered."
— MABOV, GERMANY
"Received mine today in Japan. It is a testament to the Ukrainian spirit!"
— WILLIAM KUMAI, JAPAN, BACKER #202
"Your commitment to delivering under extreme circumstances has made me a customer for life."
— BARRY JOHNSON, USA
"In the face of all the turmoil you somehow found time to do what you did. It says tons about your team and strength of character."
— LIONEL YAP
"Such a testament to you and your country. Proud to be a part of this item in history — and I will carry it well."
— SEAN WHITAKER, USA
The war rearranged the team the way it rearranged the whole country. Some of the people in our early photos are serving in the Armed Forces of Ukraine; others are scattered across Europe. Dmytro — whom backers knew from seven campaigns of comments — has been following his own path abroad since 2022. We remain on good terms, and his fingerprints are on every campaign from 2017 to 2021. Since then, MRF Tools has come full circle: it is once again carried by the engineer who machined the first prototype — Andrii designs the tools, runs the production, and usually answers your emails himself.
Ten funded Kickstarter campaigns. Over 4,000 backers. More than $238,000 raised. Today MRF Tools makes about twenty credit-card-format instruments: the Universal series, Adventur, Extreme, Bushcrafter, SmartRuler, Lumberjack and more — all designed by the same hand since 2015. We are not the biggest name in the wallet-tool niche — stamped cards have sold in the millions. We're fine being the milled minority: recessed cutting edges instead of flat blanks, wrench jaws with real depth, a modular tool slot shared across the Universal line since 2020, and a hardness test on every card that leaves the workshop. Production is fully restored. And the drawing board is full: two new Kickstarter campaigns are in the works — Universal 5.0 together with the Bushcrafter Card, followed by the OfficeWorker and our first folding knife, the MRF Fold.
Today Andrii's week splits three ways: engineering projects at MRF Engineering, new multitools here at MRF Tools — and, after hours (some habits don't change), a board game studio: 7ERAS, a civilization-building card game designed before the war and now heading to Kickstarter. Different formats; the same drawing board.
Titanium Grade 5 for its strength-to-weight ratio (~28 g per card); 440C steel because it hardens to 52–54 HRC and holds an edge.
The engineering budget goes into the steel, not the box.
A stamped card bends where a milled one bites.
When you email us, the person answering is usually the person who designed the thing.