Who You Know...

[Ramlock]

Pietro Cittandi was an unassuming man, if you didn't know what you were looking for. "Hidden Merits," a ramshackle wooden structure on the edge of one of the larger farms in the Fields, was simple, much as the owner appeared. Black-haired, thin, and tall, Pietro sold food, tools, farming equipment, and any trinkets or curiosities that found their way to his door. He also offered small loans of money to people willing to put up their objects as collateral: strictly speaking, he owned a pawn shop...

On any given day, it was possible to enter Hidden Merits, Pietro ready to greet you with well-trimmed facial hair and slicked-back hair. His plain brown eyes, however, hid a certain amount of slyness. If you knew the right code words, or the right object to purchase, or simply had enough money to throw around... It was possible to meet some of Pietro's friends. The presence of the Testers, the assassins who constantly slipped through the fears of those in higher castes, were extremely hard to find. While it was known that they lived in the Fields, no one could direct you to them. However, people in the Fields still found these Testers, and commissioned them in order to move up in life. These people tend to frequent the Hidden Merits...

[Nayt]

There was a new face at the door. New faces, rather--a full series of them . . .

They stepped in, one pushing the door open, holding it open for all the others. Such an organized troupe--not something that was going to be seen as all that kind, nothing to consider purely harmless. Something to deem rightfully dangerous, and take as many precautions with as humanly possible.

It wasn't an entire crew, nothing like an organized batch of soldiers, but they had uniforms--and those uniforms weren't at all familiar. Dark cloth covered every inch of their skin below their necks, long sleeved dark shirts, gloves, pants, and boots, all of the same color, with sleeveless overcoats atop this, also made of cloth, but of a different color: gray. These button-up overcoats fell at length to the middle of their shins, and their collars were all pulled up and buttoned as such, making it near impossible to see any inch of their necks, or anything below their noses, for that matter--and, with the overcoats lacking sleeves, it was easy to tell the color of their underclothes. Beyond this, each man wore a wide brimmed hat of black color, and an ornately designed armband upon their left biceps, depicting what seemed to be a large vulture preying on a phoenix.

Several of the men stood outside, while four stepped inside. They all had different builds and height, but with their uniforms on, it was difficult to find much of a large difference amongst them. Only one of the four that entered Pietro Cittandi's shop stood out amongst them.

And with good reason.

No doubt, this man was their presumed leader--leader of what was unclear, but his appearance suggested that he was superior to the others, at the very least. This man's overcoat, rather than gray, was a deep red in contrast with the black underclothes. His hat was a similar color, and it was easy to tell that he at least had somewhat wild hair. It was bushy, blond, and could be seen despite the folded up collar and wide brimmed hat. He wore the same emblem in the same place, however, unlike usual military ranks in other countries. He stood in wait--waiting for either a greeting or flight. It was more than likely uncommon for any man in uniform to ever step foot in one of these shops.

[Ramlock]

Pietro didn't flee, but didn't immediately respond. It wasn't entirely uncommon for someone in uniform to come to his shop. After all, the people who had advanced with his help remembered him in their higher positions. He'd been threatened before, beaten, had his shops burned down once in a while... He wasn't dead yet, though. That was some sort of testament to his ability...

"I'm going to assume you're not here to shop..."

Pietro didn't move from his spot behind the counter as the men entered. He wasn't especially afraid, but... There was a hint of sweat on his brow. Eugena wasn't a place where you could count on morality or sympathy. Strength was the biggest factor in all dealings, and more men gave you more strength...

[Nayt]

However many men were outside could not be counted. There were four inside, but just from seeing them when the door was opened just a moment ago, one would be able to count at least four more, with hints that there were more--such as little flashes of a boot around the corner, or a gloved hand around the corner, or a trace of a coat; just small hints that suggested there were at least a few more men than they let on.

"You could say that we aren't," the man in the red overcoat replied, his voice at a middle pitch with a somewhat "snarky" tone of voice, the type of constant doubt and skepticism just for the sake of being a skeptic. It was unlikely that he ever dropped that tone or corresponding attitude.

He started about the room, glancing down at the wares Pietro had one display. He was both walking in like he owned the place and not. The way he ran his gloved hand over the old, rusted sword, and the way he poked the rustic sewing machine set up on a stand as he walked by did more than enough to establish an acceptable amount of invasive dominance, but he wasn't tossing things around like he owned them and had every right to break them. In fact, he left them alone entirely. None of the junk that the man had up for the viewing seemed all that valuable, anyways. It was just a bunch of junk, as far as he was concerned.

"But you could also say that we are," he continued, before coming to an abrupt stop, looking the owner of the pawn shop in the face. "We have quite a bit of gold on us, it's not like we can't buy anything here. It's just that . . . none of this looks worth the pennies."

[Ramlock]

"If the goods aren't worth your time..."

Pietro didn't want to flat out tell the man to leave, but he certainly wished to imply it. He'd offered gold, which was strange in Eugena, and practically unheard of in the Fields. Barter or Merits tended to be the only money commonly encountered. The fact that a foreigner was possibly looking for him? Very scary. If it was simply someone from a higher caste, they were going to kill him or not. But these guys...

Pietro almost opened his mouth, but decided better of it. Outside, the men crowding the shop would draw a bit of a crowd of their own. Here and there, people would watch the strangely dressed men. No one would act, certainly, or come anywhere close. But they would watch, some of them lowly residents of the Fields, and some of them perhaps agents of higher castes. And unlike most things, information tended to be free in the Fields, particularly when there was something important going on...

[Nayt]

The whole purpose was to intimidate the man a bit, and he certainly had succeeded. That done, he could move along to the somewhat important reasons for being here, but before that . . .

"The goods here aren't, you're right," he remarked.

There was a lot of junk, that was for sure. Nothing much that could have any use whatsoever. Though, the man was a bit curious. He was starting to wonder why this guy still had a shop up. Even with the right connections, unless he was high up on a crime-based food chain, he couldn't stay in business if he wasn't making some sort of profit. It wasn't his right to say anything about it, though.

Something caught his eye, however. The man in the red coat passed by the counter behind which Pietro stood, and stopped before another counter, one he hadn't looked at in much detail, but found a fairly decent item there. Clockwork utilities--metal gears in an open case, specifically made to be placed within a medium sized clock, most likely a grandfather clock. The man picked it up and started towards Pietro again.

"Except . . . maybe this. Hm. Yeah, this seems nice enough," he set the open gears down on the counter, "What kind of price tag would you put on this?"

[Ramlock]

The shop wasn't exactly a thriving business, but land was cheap. All you had to do was be able to keep it, here. No taxes, no purchasing... From there, it was just a matter of building, and that wasn't difficult. The shop itself wasn't built particularly well, just secured well enough to keep animals and people out when they weren't wanted. Pietro would look over the gears, shrugging slightly.

"A coin for each gear, if you guys really do have that sort of money laying around..."

As dangerous as the situation was, he couldn't resist the chance of making a bit of money, particularly if he really was interested. The gears were likely stolen, as no one locally would have a use for such things, but keeping them displayed had paid off, it seemed. Any gold coin, really, no matter the nationality, would be more than worth one of the gears, but he figured he could try...

[Nayt]

"One coin per gear?" He asked, "You run one hell of a business."

He could get something like this for a total of two gold coins in a different country. People were just pawning off whatever they could, if it wasn't any sort of necessity, for any price available. Economically, the End was a horror. This meant good things for collectors and people who were well off. Good items were going for extremely cheap prices. This entire island, however, seemed completely unaffected.

Nonetheless, he reached into the pocket of his overcoat and withdrew a small bag. There were six gears within the box, all of which were in good shape and sturdy. With enough extra additions, they could be perfect utilities in any sort of engineering. That's what he was planning with them, at least. From the small bag, he withdrew six small, golden coins, setting them down upon the counter before Pietro.

"I'm going to admit, I was shocked about this place. From all the stories I'd heard, I thought that it was going to be a brutal, gold driven land," he remarked as an idle thought, "I was impressed, to be completely honest. The woman that lead me here didn't even try to extort us. We just asked her the right questions, and she lead us here."

Though, he didn't say anything about threats. It may have been intimidation, or he might have gone so far as to harm the woman, but there was no money involved, that much was for sure.

[Ramlock]

"It's brutal, but you learn to live with it..."

Quickly taking the gold coins and dropping through a slot on the counter to some sort of hidden "register", Pietro would wait to see what else they had in mind. The woman, whoever she was, was probably lucky if she got away alive, as far as he knew. Money wasn't often distributed for small favors. Injury or death was distributed for lack of respect (or a perceived lack of respect). With this in mind, people in the Fields could be surprisingly helpful...

"Anything else I can help you with?"

Sweat still showed on Pietro's brow, but he would rather have these men out, even if he risked offending them. They were too outlandish, too unknown, and too dangerous...

[Nayt]

"Appreciated," he replied as he pulled the open box of gears away. "I doubt we're going to be here long enough to get used to it, but I appreciate the words of wisdom."

"That's just it, though. We asked her a pretty loaded question. See, that girl just happened to be the first one we saw when we arrived. So, I asked her: Do you know anyone with connections? Someone you could take us to, someone who knows the right people? So, she lead us here. I assume you're that guy--you were identified rather quickly. So, I'm going to need something else from you. I need someone with skill. One of the best available Or someone who might know a man just like that."

As he spoke, he loosened the buttons on his red coat. Once he was finished speaking, he paused in order to open one side of his coat for Pietro to see. There were two items immediately available for his viewing, both held in two shallow pockets. A bag of gold hung out of a pocket directly next to a firearm.

"We're well aware of what this place is; there are the best, and there are the best of the best--it's all a matter of skill and power. And we're looking for the best of the best," he remarked, "We'll either make it worth your while, or we'll have to find someone else with good connections.

It was a simple bargain. Pietro would either be making out like a bandit by presumably betraying the wrong person, or he'd be risking his life by playing ignorant. The man in the red coat had a flintlock pistol tucked in that visible pocket, loaded--all he needed to do was draw it and pull the trigger. And he was one hell of a shot.

[Ramlock]

Pietro didn't move, if only out of the fear that if he did, he was going to be killed. He had something of a reputation, sure, and was even suspected to be an assassin, but... He certainly didn't look it, if nothing else. Everyone knew assassins looked just like normal people, but feared nothing, and had the skill to back up their attitudes...

"Look, I know about my reputation, but it's a coincidence, I swear... People who come to see me just happen to move up a lot. I don't know what you want, but... Testers..."

Breathing out deeply, and looking around for anyone nearby reflexively, he finally leaned over the counter and spoke in a near-whisper. He was really risking his life for this, but with this sort of cash, he could hire someone himself, and go make a living in the higher castes somewhere. The amount of gold the man carried... It was enough to reach the 8th caste, perhaps even the 7th...

"Look, I can put in touch with their man. I can't put you in touch with one of them directly. I'm going to need a bit of... Reassurance, though. If anyone finds out about this, I'm dead..."

[Nayt]

Good. He didn't resist or try to get around it somehow. Really, this whole place was quite impressive. Where he came from, a man who hadn't the upper hand normally tried to spite the one that did, somehow. It just made working difficult, and he was always unimpressed with those kind of actions. It was that reason alone that he gave the man the choice: take the money and do what he was asked, or accept whatever the man in the red coat would do to him with the gun. And it worked brilliantly.

Reassurance.

"We didn't sail halfway across the world for nothing," replied the man in the red coat, "You'll have your defense and an escort if need be . . . until we're gone. I can't pretend to cover up for you, though. As you know, I haven't been here for much longer than a couple of hours . . ."

And he didn't know nearly enough about the island to make any sort of "cover" for Pietro. He did, however, know humanity and organized crime well enough to understand what was needed at minimum, and what to say and what not to say--and face. The way people expressed themselves said a lot about them. If one of these "Testers" looked like an average person, just asking them if they were such a person--such a "Tester"--and receiving a negative response would tip the man in the red coat off that the person was lying.

[Ramlock]

"I think the cash will be enough..."

Pietro fully planned to empty the shop and burn it to the ground that night. With any luck, people would think he was dead, and if not... Well, they wouldn't know where he went. This place was his home, anyway. Until he moved up a caste. He didn't have a target in mind, but that cost extra, anyway. Payment for entry into a caste in general was cheaper, even if it sometimes meant things like taking the place of a child...

"About a mile east of here, near the coast, there's an old barn. It's half-rotted, but the Testers use it to contact people. I can't guarantee they'll talk to you, but they probably will..."

[Nayt]

"All right," the man in the red coat nodded.

He reached for the gold, rather than the gun, and once he had it withdrawn from his coat, he buttoned it back up. It was good information, there was no doubt about that--but caution had to be taken with these types of deals. He tossed the bag up, catching it, and did so again.

The bag of gold was held back, however--kept out of reach. "I do have a bit of a concern, though. There are always methods of seeing if any of these people are anything like who we're looking for, there's no doubt about that. If any of these people are of interest, we'll find out after less than a minute, at best. The place, though . . . I'm not so sure. This is an awful lot of gold to hand over without any guaranteed return."

He could be getting hosed, and that was the last thing he needed. This was a good lead, and he could tell flat out that Pietro knew much more than everyone else around here. He didn't even try lying--much--when approached about it . . . at least, when it was obvious that lying would get him nowhere. Of course, some of it had to be a lie, and that's why the man in the red coat had his suspicions. Rather than handing the money over right then and there, he tossed the bag behind him for one of his men to catch it and hold onto it in his stead.

"I'll tell you what. While I'm here, I'm going to do a bit of sight seeing before I work on the mission. We'll be back, same time tomorrow--and you'll be here, ready to escort us to this barn, and once we have our man--or men, if we're truly lucky--you'll get paid. If he, or they, are more than what we're hoping for, I'll even throw in a bonus. Deal?"

[Ramlock]

"Hold on, we had a deal!"

Pietro was willing to do a lot of things, but not this. He wasn't getting in the middle of these guys and whatever deal they were working out. He wanted no part in it at all. It was going to end with him dead. He didn't want to walk away without his money, but if that was what it took... He'd be better off that way...

"I'm not going to go out there with you... I've already told you more than I should have. If you want proof, this is it. I'm not willing to go out there with you and get in the middle of that deal. Once you're out that door, I don't want to be involved any more..."

The foreigner had proved to be more of a businessman than a threat, and so Pietro treated him as such. The information was good. He didn't act as a go-between. All he did was guide people with the proper sorts of resources to the contacts they needed. Testers were notoriously secret, for fear of all the force that could be brought to bear by higher castes, and Pietro wasn't going to lead these men to their meeting spot personally...