Chronicles - Malifaux

and unbroken. Trusting this as further evidence of herpower, he fingered the band on his wrist one last timeand set off to meet his true love.He knew something was wrong the moment he reachedthe square. Lupita’s flower stall had been knocked overonto its back and her wares were scattered everywhere.A crowd of concerned-looking vendors stood around it,talking animatedly and stealing frequent glances acrossthe square towards the Guild offices.‘What happened?’ he asked as soon as he got withinarm’s length of the gathering.One hoary old woman he recognized as another of theflower sellers turned and gave him a wide-eyed stare.‘She’s gone. Taken.’‘Taken?’ Adulio didn’t understand. ‘Taken where? Bywho?’‘Guild thugs,’ the woman said, hawking a green wadof protest onto the slabs. ‘A handful of ‘em. Come outof their rat’s nest up north of the square. Said they wasarrestin’ her for assault on a Guild officer. Kicked herstall over and dragged her away, they did.’‘What?’ Adulio looked down at the wreckage of Lupita’sstall. The flowers underfoot had been crushed and hereand there were woven bracelets among the dead plants.The band around his wrist burned.‘That little weasel,’ the old woman said, pointing acrooked finger. ‘He’s to blame for this. Plain enoughknowledge he had designs on her, only the girl’s gotmore sense. Appears he didn’t get the answer he wanted.Poor girl…to come to this…’Adulio set his teeth, his fists clenched. ‘Weasel? Whatweasel?’‘Him what’s been sniffing around her like a dog,’ the oldwoman snarled. ‘Works up at the Guild – some fancylord or mind-your-business or other. Follop, his nameis. Ermine Follop.’He was still in excruciating pain. Touching the tenderbulb of his nose with his fingertips, he could feel it hadswollen dramatically and had turned a purplish red huein the hand mirror he continually examined the damagewith. The hornet’s sting had somehow managed to gethim inside the nostril and the stinging had left his eyesbloodshot with tears.Cursing his luck, he tried to turn his attention back tothe work on his desk, but his mind kept returning tothe flower girl. How dare she laugh at him, after all thegenerosity he had shown her? Well, she wouldn’t belaughing now, not down in the detainment cells. A fewnights in one of those dank brutal holes would knocksome of the vim out of her – he was certain she wouldbe much more hospitable to his advances after that. Hehad already speculated on a few of the ways she coulddemonstrate her gratitude when he deigned to releaseher.His speculations were interrupted by an urgent rap onhis door.‘What?’ he snapped.The door opened and his personal aide stepped tentativelyinto the room. Caravelle always had an apologetic lookabout him; an abject quality that irritated Follop to noend. He looked particularly aggrieved today.‘I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr Follop, only there’s ayoung gentleman out here and he’s most insistent thathe speaks with you at once.’‘Send him away,’ the Guild officer grumbled. ‘I’m busy.’Before Caravelle could say another word, a figurepushed past him and into the office. This newcomerFollop did not recognize – he wore a cheap suit and toomuch pomade, but he looked hale and sturdy and therewas a stubborn set to his jaw that the Guild officer didn’tlike the look of.‘I’m sorry to bust in on you, sir, but I must speak toyou,’ the boy said. He straightened his jacket in a selfconsciousway, but there was a fierce determinationin his gaze that suggested he was here with definitepurpose. ‘This can’t wait.’10 © Copyright Wyrd Miniatures, LLC