Chucklemonkey

I like both ideas. Geniunely selling everything someone needs to start up in one special deal can't be bad, and I know that whenever I look to start a new crew it usually is a box with totem and one or two other blisters. (Where in Scotland are you from Shae? I used to live near Stirling and there were quite a few players by the time I left. There was also a club in Glasgow where it was popular.)

Given you currently have an avatar I assume you figured that out. Signature wise, go to user cp, edit Sig and the pictures a lot of people have are in with the smilies.

Thomas Lawson thought it was the perfect plan. He had risen at dawn; as he did every day. Normally there was no choice in the matter as the master would reward anyone sleeping past the rising of the sun with a thrashing that made it feel like the sun’s heat was emanating from their very cheeks. Occasionally if the master had been out the night before spending scrip on drink, women - or indeed both - then the opportunity presented itself for them all to nap long into the morning. Most of the other boys enjoyed those days but all it did for Thomas was remind him of the fact that his destiny was not in his control, and that he didn’t have the pleasure of spending any of the funds that he managed to collect through his endeavours. No matter what time any of the boys rose, none of them enjoyed the morning meal of salty porridge served up to them daily by Mrs Peabody and her dimwit son. Today though, with thoughts of the productive hours ahead Thomas did not struggle to finish the gloopy mixture which had been ladled into his wooden bowl. The gang operated in teams of two, with an experienced boy – of which Thomas was – paired up with one of the younger lads who were either still learning the ropes or too stupid to learn. The older boys were the dippers who would approach the unwitting citizens of the city and remove any items of wealth that they had been stupid enough to carry. Then, in case suspicion was to fall on them they would quickly pass the goods onto the younger runners who would make a swift exit with treasures in hand. Thomas was paired with Edward, and had been for some time. In truth Edward was nearing the age that he should have been stepping up and taking a new recruit under his wing. Unfortunately for Edward, he had taken one too many beatings from the master when he first arrived, once indeed with his very own breakfast bowl, and Thomas thought it was this that had reduced Edward’s mental faculties. Thomas however, liked having Edward as his partner. Not only did his physical speed belie his mental abilities but the fact that he was older and larger than most of the runners meant that he was better placed to assist Thomas if and when a fight were to occur. In fact there had been more than one occasion, before Thomas had perfected his technique, where it looked like he was about to take a beating that Edward had managed to step in and their combined efforts had allowed them to rebuff their attackers and beat a hasty retreat. Neither of those however, was the main reason that Thomas liked Edward so much, no, it was simply that given Edward’s limited mental capability, Thomas was able to ensure that he was in control. It allowed him the opportunity to carry out stunts such as yesterday’s situation with Stryder and therefore more chance to both earn and conceal a little bit of something on the side. That morning, as soon as breakfast was over and everyone sent on their way, Thomas had informed Edward that the master had told him that he thought Edward was almost ready to become a dipper and that he would soon be watching the two of them in action to make a decision. Thomas suggested that it would be a good day for Edward to practice on his own; it was to be kept secret of course. The first thing he had done after Edward’s departure was head towards the nearest junior school and using one of the silly puppet dolls he had managed to grab the day before distracted one of the younger girls long enough to steal her bag. It had a strawberry motif and Thomas thought it would be perfect for what he had in mind. He had come up with his plan through the night. He would spend the day walking all over town with the photograph given to him by Stryder, and the girl’s bag that had so recently come into his possession. He would then approach all the wealthiest looking individuals and proclaim that he had lost his sister on the way to school and that their mother would beat him silly if he didn’t manage to find her again soon. While they were looking at the picture he would relieve them of whatever wealth they happened to be carrying on their person, slip it into the bag, and then run off proclaiming that he had seen her that moment turning the corner. If someone actually recognised her then this would just be a bonus. If not then he would start a genuine search for her that evening, he did actually like Stryder after all, and his finder’s fees were always more than generous. In fact, he thought it might just be possible to keep this little ruse going for a couple of days. With high hopes and a spring in his step he set off into the deep grey Malifaux morning little knowing that a pair of eyes that had seen him go through his charade with the dwarf the day before were following him now. ........... Elliot couldn’t believe he had managed to get so unpopular so quickly. His Captain had spent all of yesterday ripping through him about the fact he had allowed the death of a woman he was supposed to be keeping tabs on. Elliot’s explanation that he would have caught the culprits had his bumbling partner not tripped and knocked him head first into a dresser didn’t seem to appease the Captain. He hadn’t even been taken off the case. It also made for a frosty day spent with his partner, as they went over all the information they had previously gathered about the case in an effort to spot some lead or missed detail that might help them crack it. Elliot had thought that silence was just what he had wanted from Charles; now that he had it he wasn’t so sure. The worst of it was that the death of Constance Ritchey meant that he would not be allowed any of the time off he had requested months ago. He had yet to break the news to his mother, who was due to arrive later that day, but he was pretty sure it would not go down well. As long as he succeeded in preventing her from storming into the station handbag at the ready, or from cutting him out of her will, then he supposed it wouldn’t be too bad. At least she had that photographer to show around the place this time, although he was concerned that without him by her side the old bat would manage to get herself killed. He re-read the details of the murders that had been provided by the lead investigator on the case. There had been four gang-masters killed over the last year; well five now Ritchey had met her maker. All of them put to death by the sword. He wasn’t sure quite how many gangs of orphans and waifs this city could support but in any event it was clearly a lot more than he would have thought. In truth there was very little information to go on, with no witnesses, until last night that was. “What do you think Charles? I know that by rights we are just part of the stake out team but it seems to me that if there was anyone in a position to move ahead and get this solved it would be us.” Charles stayed silent, although Elliot thought that he noticed a slight tilt of the head. “I mean, I know that we’ve been moved on to this new dame, but we’re the only witnesses here. I would say there would be nothing to stop us from doing some leg-work in our free time. Did you see enough of Mr Cigar for us to get a drawing? We could pay one of those caricature artists from the sideshows rather than letting anyone in here know what the position is.” Charles looked round at him. “Okay, but when we’re both promoted I’m asking for a transfer.” Elliot let out a small chuckle “sure thing kid. We have to be prepared for tonight; lets’ say we head down to the market place and see what you can remember, grab a nap and then set up camp.”

I had noted interest in attending this year and will also await the actual yes or no answer to this question prior to confirming. Have no problem with wyrd but the manner this has been sprung

One aspect that concerns me is that if optimal crews do not get support in future expansions, which is a possibility given the number of masters and Henchmen already in play, it may lead to a very vocal unhappy element of the player base. If there is a balance shift to please those optimal crews it could lead to the type of inbalance seen in the core gw games. Personally, I agree with both rathnard and ratty on this but given this has to all effects and purposes been rubber stamped for use in the UK I would still like to hear what people would see as the benefits of such a system for both the player base and Wyrd itself as that is an area I do not feel was covered in the UK rankings thread itself.

Welcome to the board and the forums. At least you have a faction preference. Lilith and Pandora have very different playstyles and you should have no difficulty finding plenty of tips and tactics for either.

Cracking work as usual. Already looking forward to the rest.

With the likely introduction of a ranking system for tournament play in the UK which has been mooted here: http://wyrd-games.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22065 I would be interested to hear what people deemed to be the pro's and con's of implementing rankings in the tournament scene on the game as a whole. Personally, despite playing and spreading the word about this game for quite some time I had never entered a tournament for geographical reasons until just a few months back, but enjoyed it thoroughly (thanks MythicFox) and had been looking to attend a good few more in the near future. Given the potential introduction of a rankings system I am keen to hear the views of tournament players, not just in relation to Malifaux, but of any other wargames you guys play. Please note, that I am not looking to start an argument in this thread - lets leave that for the last one, or better still, not at all.

Despite implications otherwise not all uk Henchmen are supporting this idea. I am concerned at the mannes this has been implemented and it's implications for future unilateral decisions by Henchmen

Given that this discussion has flowed into other threads and the fact it may effect UK players who do not frequent this area of the forum at this particular point in time, can I suggest a thread is started in the Malifaux matters area prior to this getting steamrollered through. Or at least a link placed to this thread. I would do so myself, and intend to later if it hasn't been done. It's just I'm on my phone as opposed to a comp at the moment so can't post links.

Have to agree with Fenrir. While I have no objection per se to a ranking system it has already seemed to split opinion somewhat. I am also slightly concerned about the justification of moving it forward of most Henchmen agree with it when it was stated in the opening post that Henchmen had already been discussing the matter for some time. As such their views were already known prior to the opening of this thread. Unless I'm missing something?

Welcome aboard. I'm off to check out your painting log.

Congratulations and welcome back. I would actually love it if you graduated in anatomy!

I had emerged from the meeting with my old friend, not only with a re-enforced sense of hope that I might be able to find Todo’s daughter – April – but also, that some of my initial assumptions may very well be correct. That there had been no ransom demand had led me to believe that there must be something unique about the girl, the fact she had been brought to Malifaux was a good indicator of what that may be. Despite Dr Ramos validating those thoughts, he also happened to point out that there could be another reason for the lack of contact by the kidnappers, that April was dead. I had to admit that this was something that, while obvious now, I had not considered. I decided it was an irrelevance; I would seek payment one way or the other and at least I could release Todo from a hopeless search. After leaving Dr Ramos’ hideaway – he was not as universally popular as he was with me – I had decided to hit the streets and get the name and the face to any and all of my contacts that may be of use. As a result it was now nearly five in the evening and my feet were not afraid to let me know they were fatigued by my endeavours. I decided that I had just one more person I wished to converse with in this regard and then I would retire to the comfort of my fireplace and a bottle of deep red Carmenere. With that in the forefront of my mind I made my way towards Market Square; the alleys and streets surrounding it appeared far more vibrant than was usual and I had to be cautious with my movements as I approached the archway leading into the square. People tend to ignore someone of my size when they are hurried or harried. Just as I approached the entrance I had an overwhelming sense that I was being followed and I turned in an effort to pick out any familiar faces. Seeing none, I recommenced my journey. It was immediately obvious upon my entry as to why the square was so busy. The circus was in town and the marketplace was full with entertainers advertising their wares for upcoming shows. I made my way through the throng, scanning the crowd for the person I was hoping to meet. There were twice as many stalls as was usual for the market and I could make out a few of those that were transients with the circus show. There was a gentleman with a pencil moustache selling ointments and alms from the back of his carriage. He seemed to be doing a brisk trade. The crowd that had gathered around him was nothing however, in comparison to that run by two thirty-something men. My curiosity piqued, I made my way through a group of young girls in an effort to see just what it was that they were selling that was so popular. My eyes came upon their goods and I could see rows and rows of puppets, wooden and sack-cloth alike, this in itself was not unusual, but they all appeared as representations of powerful, famous and infamous people from the city. I could make out a stuffed Lucius puppet next to a wooden Seamus one, and there, close to the back was one of Lilith, a legend around these parts. I could hear the salesmen whipping the crowd into a frenzy. “Come! Collect them all! Puppets of all your favourite citizens and denizens of the underworld! Have you ever wished to own you’re very own Collette Du Bois puppet? Well now is your chance. Get them now before it’s too late!” Having met the delightful Ms Du Bois on a previous investigation I had to admit I found this somewhat distasteful. I turned to leave and it was then that I noticed him. His eyes locked onto my person as a raptor to its prey. I started walking through the crowd in an effort to leave the square by the North Gate. I was able to use the fact that people were continually getting in my way to reposition my body and get the occasional glance at my follower. He was young, maybe 14 years old, dressed in a dandyish manner with a long coat and hat that seemed to engulf most of his head. He was gaining ground on me, I, of course, made as if unaware of his pursuit. I had just about reached the gate when I bumped into an old woman and this stopped me in my tracks. It was then he made his move. sidling up next to me and attempting to slip his hand into my waistcoat pocket un-noticed. I managed to grab his wrist with my left hand before he could complete his deft removal of my pocket watch. Unfortunately for me, my left arm had been weakened considerably many years ago in an unfortunate incidence with some rats below the city streets, and he broke free from my grasp, my gold timepiece still in his hand as he started to run from the square. I noticed another youngster run speedily in the other direction. I assumed this to be his bagman, but as they had not had time to complete a drop I made straight after the first rapscallion, his hat bobbing up and down amongst the sea of people traversing the square. My feet surrendered their previous protestations and I made swiftly for him, nearly catching him twice as he bolted through numerous back-alleys. He made a swift left turn and it was then I knew I had him. He had just entered Hangman’s close, a dark uninviting street that had not even been cobbled. It also happened to be a dead end. As I made the turn into the close I saw him by the rear wall and he was smiling back at me. “Well Mr Stryder, I would say that was the most realistic one yet wouldn’t you? You nearly had me two roads back.” “Yes Thomas, It was lucky I had spotted you, or you would have managed to remove my watch without my heed. Your technique is even better than it was a few months back” I replied. “I’m the best there is Mr Stryder” came the cheeky retort. “I know you are Thomas, that’s why I engage your services so often. I do wish we didn’t have to go through such a charade every time in order to do so. I am not as young as you after all.” “My master would not be best pleased with me if he knew I was working for someone else – at least not without him seeing the scrip. So what have you got for me today?” “I’m looking for this girl” I said as I removed the picture from the very same pocket that he had snatched my timepiece from “she has been missing for two years. Her mother wants me to find her.” Thomas took the picture from me and inspected it thoroughly. “I haven’t seen her before. Of course, she might belong Ms Everwood, she has lots of girls and is secretive with it. Have you tried her yet?” he asked. “I haven’t thanks. I will now though” I responded moving to take the picture back. “Of course, she could have been taken by the piper” Thomas said, almost to himself. “Can I keep it? I can ask around for you. There are places I can go that even you can’t, after all.” I mulled it over briefly before nodding, “Alright. Standard finder’s fee mind, and let me know the second you hear anything”. I turned to leave but Thomas caught my attention again as he cleared his throat. “Your watch Mr Stryder” he stated, as he held it forward for me. I gave him enough scrip with which he could persuade his master he had pawned the spoils of his raid and not made away with any funds, and he ran from the street. I smiled to myself; that boy was as smart as a whip, and I had no doubt he would be my main competitor if I was still plying my trade in a number of years. I started my journey home; that bottle of Carmenere was not going to drink itself.

Many thanks. Trying to be a little more expansive with this one. I only hope I still manage to keep the feel of a crime story rather than it slipping into general fantasy.

I have to disagree with this point. It assumes that the opted out players or those players who play for fun are bad players. A player could easily win the first couple of rounds without being ultra competitive and only really come up with that cinematic moment of will I or won't I in the final round. It seems already apparent that it is a divisive issue that is likely to result in a two teir system.

Elliot Barnaby was getting very bored and very tired. He was sat in the upstairs bedroom of a downtown hovel, staring across a small cobblestone lane at the front door of a house that was thought to be the local base for a pick-pocketing gang. He knew there had been a few deaths amongst the gang-masters recently and a resultant consolidation of their charges. Despite this, Elliot still failed to see why the Guild were paying any attention to this and perhaps more importantly, why he had been picked to not only be part of the stake-out team, but also why they had paired him with some ex liquidator rookie! He didn’t know what he would do if he had to hear the story of how the kid had stumbled upon the body of a showgirl even one more time. He leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. He should be preparing for the annual visit of his mother. It was the one time a year his home got any attention and it normally took him a good two days to get it clean enough to let anyone inside. This year she was bringing a companion with her. Some photographer she had met at bridge club. He had better not leech off the old dear’s money. Elliot had plans for that when the time came. He could hear the rain beating off the window and the distant rumble of thunder. At least he could say he was at least glad to be inside on a night like this. He heard a splash. It was bigger than the mere rain. He heard another. Elliot stood up and peered down into the alleyway. “What’s down there?” asked Charles, his young and –Elliot thought – rather over-eager new colleague. “Just looks like a drunk. Can’t keep his feet out of the cess-drain” Elliot replied. He was just about to turn and sit down again when a dim light rounded the corner onto the lane. It was the tip of a cigar that had caught his attention. Two men, dressed smartly in top hats and tails, the non smoker also had a cane, were making their way up the lane. It was certainly unusual for such well mannered gentleman to be in this part of town, let alone at this late hour. They stopped halfway between the lane end and the target of Elliot’s surveillance and seemed to enter into a conversation. Elliot had just decided that they were not worth anymore of his attention when the smoker leaned back against the wall and the man with the cane started moving directly towards the gang’s hideout. “Hey Charles, come see this.” Elliot motioned his compatriot to join him at the window “It’s probably nothing but it looks like some kind of business is about to go down. Just keep your eyes on Mr Cigar, see if you can pick out any details when he takes a draw. I’ll keep my eyes on the door.” .............................. It was three minutes later when the man emerged from house opposite. Elliot noticed that the man now appeared to be carrying two canes. It dawned on him just moments before the man slipped one cane inside the other. It was no cane. It was a sword. He turned and ran for the door, just managing to order Charles to follow him. Charles could see that the two men had heard the shout and had begun bolting down the alleyway. He felt this could be his big chance. Not only to impress his partner but also to convince his boss that he could work murders. He was fast and knew it. He joined the chase. He rounded the door onto the upstairs landing and sprinted for the top of the stairs. He could see the overweight Elliot descending them one by one and thought it was clear he had not been forced to take a fitness test in quite some time. Charles also started the descent, taking the stairs three at a time. He had only a few to go when his right foot went over on itself and he went tumbling head first towards the floor, colliding with Elliot and knocking him into a hallway dresser as he did so. The moments lost righting themselves and reaching the door that led out onto the cobbles must have been just enough for the men to get away. The only man in tha alley was the drunk who seemed to have passed out over a storm drain. “Should I pursue” Charles shouted, still keen on his chances of catching anyone but the fastest of runners? “No, you’re with me.” Elliot replied slowing as he approached the door that just moments before he had seen the sword wielding gentleman exit. Both of them could feel their pulse racing as the edged forward. Just as they were about to reach for the handle, the door slammed open - giving both of them a shock that they would later agree not to mention to anyone in their report - and six children moving at full speed sprang out, clearly desperate to get as far from their as possible. Elliot eventually peered around the door and into the small front room. The tension visibly left him and he waved Charles forward. In the dark room they entered there was a large wooden table with benches down either side, a fire to the left that still had a pot of some foul smelling liquid bubbling away, and there, lying in the middle of the floor was Constance Ritchey, the object of their three day stake-out, with her throat slit clean through. Elliot turned to see Charles, the colour drained from his face, move quickly back outside into the rain-soaked street.

The henchman requirement is logical but would limit the option geographically to areas with game stores (that support Malifaux). Now, I don't imagine there is a huge Malifaux fanbase in say, Inverness, but if there did happen to be then they could not run a ranked event as there is no LGS which a Henchman could be affiliated to. In the entire North East area I am yet to find a store that stocks it or appears particularly interested, so a Leeds Henchman appears to me to be about the most northern-most in England, yet there is certainly a big enough player base to support such a tournament. Not a big point but felt it worth making. In terms of the idea as a whole, I see no problem with a ranking system as a whole. Those that take the game relatively seriously now will continue to do so and attend as many events as possible. Those who attend for fun as and when they can will also do this. I fail to see that the introduction of such a system will inherently change the game itself. Although I would rather hope to avoid set power builds, most people know what they are and would use them if winning was all important to them. Fairly sure the dynamics of the game and crews will be sufficient to prevent beginners just storming in with such a build and start dominating tournaments. I also think there are sufficient characterful crews to prevent seeing ten or so of the same master in a twenty player tourney - I hope so anyway.

They are pretty much valueless thesedays after it was discovered that they were eating family pets and small children. Luckily I have opened a re-homing centre for them where they can live out the rest of their days in peace, free from the hateful eyes of cat and dog owners everywhere. I will happily allow you to send him to me and I won't even charge the usual fees. PM me for further details

I'm certainly interested. Will have to wait till slightly closer to the time to know for sure. What pray tell is a hardcore turbo event?

I suppose I should really tell you a little bit about myself so that you can understand why those people would make their way to my home with such a request. My name is Graeme Stryder; although I do try wherever possible to go by my last name only. I am approximately 4 foot 3 inches tall, which you will no doubt already be aware, makes me pretty much exactly the average height for a male dwarf, which I suppose is what I am medically defined as. I made my way through the breach only a matter of months after its re-opening, feeling that my particular talents may come in useful to the type of people that seemed intent on making the crossing. As it turned out; I was right. These days I imagine people would describe me as a collector, back then however, I called myself a location agent. If someone wanted to know where a particular rare work of art, antique, powerful soul-stone, or weapon was then I was the man they would speak too. Granted there were very few works of fine art in Malifaux in those first few years; but I still found a buoyant market for my services. After I had located what it was my client was looking for the information was given over for a price, what they did with it was up to them. If they wanted delivery of the item, well, I could arrange that too, for a premium. The first thing I noticed that was different than on earth-side, was that there appeared to be a far higher demand for books and rare volumes. On occasion I would be hired by two or three clients all looking for the same particular tome. This made for rich pickings and I had no reservations about selling that information many times over; only very rarely did I hear of the death of any of them within such a time-scale that I would deem it as possibly relevant. I came to realise that in order to maximise my efficiency it may be beneficial to have a number of items close to hand; so, whenever I was instructed on an ‘added value’ search, if there happened to be works close by that looked like the type of item I may be instructed to search for in the future, then I would take them into custody. This was how my collection started. Over time I started to read the many books that came to be in my possession and I learnt a great deal, both in terms of pure and arcane knowledge, but also about the motivations of those that were paying for my services. In addition, it reached a point where many of the items I was requested to find were already to hand and I would simply charge the individuals for the time they required for access. If you were looking to sensationalise the matter you could call it an underground library, and it was through this library that my network of contacts spread beyond the town drunks, prostitutes, addicts and snitches to those of a more gentlemanly – or lady-like persuasion -, always though, discretion was guaranteed. It proved lucrative, and recently I have mostly been able to purchase the objects of my desire; there are so many people in this place who simply do not know the value of what they possess. In addition I have also been required to start funnelling scrip into other ventures so as not to raise the eyebrows of the guild tax collectors and liquidators. Unlike many however, I do not oppose the Guild in its entirety. I know there are as many within its protective confines who are not motivated by power and greed as those that are. I have to admit there were even a number of visitors from the guild to my little depository of knowledge, although naturally, I had to be more wary of their visits. Also, one of my very best friends happens to be a guild investigator. At first I simply thought of him as useful to have around from a protection point of view. Very few people are willing to make a move on you when you have a guild officer by your side after all. I have to admit however, a bond of genuine friendship has been built. I do seem to have digressed from my point somewhat, where was I? Oh yes, despite the move away from what I would call ‘street work’ I still tried to retain as many of my old contacts and friends as possible, you never know when you may need them and as my favourite saying goes, ‘an old friend should never be replaced with a new one’. I had spent the morning with Todo and Mr Scatola trying to glean as many details as I could. I had to admit she looked every bit as beautiful in the natural light of day as she had by flickering candle the night before. If it wasn’t for her particular circumstances - and my six month relationship with a fine young lady who works at the Star theatre - then I have to admit I would have attempted to act in a far friendlier manner. I had left that meeting with some initial funds to cover expenses, an old photograph of the girl, and a sense of puzzlement. Why had her daughter been kidnapped? Why had she been brought to Malifaux? Did Todo have any enemies who would have carried out such an act? These were questions that they had been unable to answer. Todo had confirmed that no ransom request had been received, and in fact she has had no contact with the kidnappers from the moment they left her unconscious on the bedroom floor. I could feel that they were holding something back. Whether it was something within her sense of guilt such as not having locked the door that evening or some other such thing I couldn’t say. I decided I needed some further information before I went blustering back into the depths. With that in mind I was making my way to one of my very first Malifaux clients. Not only was he the one man who knew more about what went on in this city than me, he was also one of my dearest friends. Dr Edgar Ramos. As my carriage approached his residence I had little idea that this case would be one of the most complex I had ever taken, or indeed the very real danger I would find myself in.

Their stuff is always top quality. I can see one or two of these on top of a streets of Malifaux sets. The ruined inn they do is stunning.

You could try starting with something like this http://eurekamin.com.au/news.php?newsid=EFpyFZAuyEDhiblfOw As for models I would like to see, I will join Absolution Black in requesting a Guild tax collector. Would also like to see a pack of generic citizens.

They are all Fair points and I'm happy to take constructive criticism as hopefully it will make future stories better. This one didn't flow as easily as the first and I could feel that the protagonist was being sidelined. Have decided to give him a rest for the next story in any event, although he is likely to pop up briefly. It's a missing person case so should also make it easier to have a satisfactory ending.

I had heard days ago that someone had been looking for me. I was surprised that it had taken them so long to learn of my whereabouts as, despite having a number of enemies, I hardly kept myself to myself. I was sat on the leather couch in my drawing room, with candles lit and a coal fire burning in the hearth – it kept the worst of the cold weather at bay – when I heard Rosie welcome the visitors at the main door and start directing them to me. The candles flickered as a few moments later they entered the room. There were two of them, a man and a woman. The man looked stoic and proper, maybe fifty years old, well dressed enough, but not in the very finest of clothing. The woman however, took my breath away. She was beautiful, perhaps 30 years of age at most, with long flowing jet black hair and eyes so blue they pierced the dull light of the room. Despite this there was a sadness emanating from her that portrayed her as a fragile soul. Upon hearing her story I would understand why. “Mr Stryder” the man said, nodding. Those would turn out to be the only words he would say to me. “Yes indeed. May I ask your names? Despite the number of people you asked about me, none of them, it seems, managed to avail themselves of that information.” The woman stepped forward, head bowed slightly, to address me. “My name is Teresa Todado, people call me Todo, this is my travelling companion Mr Scatola. We were not trying to be evasive but the last year or so has taught us to be cautious. Malifaux seems such a dangerous place if you don’t know your way.” Her head bowed further still, she was no longer looking at me but staring at the floor. “That is true” I replied. “I understand that you are looking to engage my services. Please know that I have been retired from my previous line of work for some time, and it was so dependent on contacts that have now been lost I may not be of much assistance. Tell me what it is you want and then we can discuss arrangements if I feel I can help in any way.” Todo raised her head just enough for me to look into her eyes before telling me her story. “Seven years ago I was granted the greatest gift of all, a baby daughter. Two years ago that gift was ripped away from me in the night and brought to Malifaux. I have not seen her since.” I gestured them both to sit on the adjacent couch. “What makes you think I can help you?” “We came through the Breach to search for her some 18 months ago now and we have got nowhere. Nobody wants to help. It’s hard to even strike up a conversation here without people having an ulterior motive. Those that do seem to want to help haven’t known anything. Last month we almost gave up, we’ve spent nearly half of my family’s fortune on this search with not even a glimmer of hope to justify it. Mr Scatolo here suggested we gave it one more go, using someone deemed as a professional. We started asking people not about my daughter but about who in this city would be best placed to find her. Your name came up repeatedly. They say that is what you do, you find things.” I nodded slightly, “I found things yes. Those times are past, and generally it was objects of value that I sought.” “There is nothing more valuable to me sir, nothing in this world.” She stated, her voice cracking with emotion “We still have enough funds to pay for your services.” I had to admit the emotion in her voice and the determined look in her eyes that were now boring into mine were starting to sway me. “Tell me what happened?” “They came in the night. I was in bed sleeping when they entered, but the stairs in my house are old and the creak of someone climbing them roused me. It took me a moment to realise someone was in the house but when I did the panic hit me.” She took a moment to calm herself, the emotion of relaying the story still seemed to hit her after all this time. “I ran up the stairs knowing my baby was up there sleeping. I saw a man through her bedroom door grabbing her and placing his hand over her mouth, I ran to her but I hadn’t realised there was two of them and someone must have been hiding by the wall on the way in and struck me on the head from behind. I fell to the floor in a daze. That was the last I saw of her.” Her head had dropped over the course of her tale and she was again staring at the floor it was clear however, that she was crying. Mr Scatola put an arm round her and pulled her towards him. I couldn’t place what the link or relationship was between the two of them. I stood up and for reasons that I do not fully understand I told them I would take the case. The financials could be settled at a later time. I had always found people were more willing to pay when you actually held the object of their affection, it was my standard practice. “How do I find you?” I asked. Mr Scatola reached into his inside pocket and handed me a note with an address. “Thank you” I continued. Rosie will see you out. With that the drawing room door opened and Rosie appeared motioning them to follow her. They did so, Mr Scatola pausing before me as he passed, nodded slightly towards me, “Mr Stryder” he repeated before following Todo and Rosie out of the room. I made my way to the wooden globe that was at the side of the couch they had been seated on, removed a bottle of Brandy and a glass from inside, poured a suitable amount and made my way to the fireside. I guess I was back in business.