Talk:Rome: Chapter 1 – Fiora Cavazza

Black Market Text Dump

Since any editing I make usually ends with an edit conflict (evidently many people are trying to edit at the same time) and my browser losing whatever I wrote, I'll just dump the text here; could someone else put it in the article and format it?

Black Market

I have served the Borgia for years now. Done horrible things. Seen the fantastic. I regret none of it. A war has made its way to Roma, fought in the streets, the senate, the churches. Cesare has tasked me to coordinate his shadow army.

The Price of Faith

I have brought flesh for Brother Ristoro's appetite. New girls eager for experience. In return, Ristoro has prepared church documents and trinkets for Cesare's agents. I have avoided the worm since my time at the Rosa in Fiore. I hope he has forgotten my face.

He does not even glance at the other girls. He walks right to me and puts a hand on my cheek. Tells me I was always his favorite. I kick him between the legs and threaten him with Cesare's wrath! He whimpers.

Ristoro opens several drawers and produces religious icons and amulets. He believes they will be useful to Cesare's plan. I am not convinced, but I take them.

I exaggerate Cesare's request. A little extra coin for myself. Payment for having to gaze upon this wretched man.

Ristoro hands me a stack of documents. He says it is filled with pardons and payments for Cesare's contracts. Officially sealed by the Church. Why anyone would give this man such power is beyond me.

Ristoro provides me with various pieces of religious gear. Junk. I am not sure that I can put any of it to use, but I take it anyway. Perhaps he toys with me.

As I turn to leave, Ristoro tries again to touch me. The girls move into his path and pull him away, giggling. They have a long night ahead. I almost feel guilty leaving them behind.

Go-To Girl

Lia de Russo. Smuggler. She is not at our meeting point. She never is. I wait several minutes and then turn to leave. Suddenly, she steps into my path. I follow her into a locked shop that she has apparently claimed as one of her storehouses.

I try to make conversation. She is uninterested. She hands me some blood-stained relic and smiles.

I cannot fathom why Cesare would want any of these random objects.

Now this is a treasure! Not one I particularly need, but I cannot imagine where she obtained it. She does seem proud.

How did she get this past the guards? Of course. Cesare owns the guards. Is there nothing out of this woman's reach?

The room smells of death. Heavy with insects. It would not surprise me to find the previous owner's body on the other side of the counter.

I manage to collect the requested items from Lia and pay her the coin. She keeps her palm open. Good girl. I give her the rest of her payment and she clucks her disapproval. I tip her.

...And The Beast

Cesare employs his own blacksmith, Auguste Oberlin. An [sic] former Swiss mercenary and weaponcrafter. I knock on his shop door. My my. Aren't you an ox of a man? Then he speaks. Articulate. Intelligent. I am shocked.

He slaps me on the shoulder as I enter his shop. It stings! He offers me a drink.

He shows me a wide range of standard weaponry. I relay Cesare's requests and have Auguste deliver the weapons to my helpers outside.

I notice small drawings covering most of one wall, starting with crude designs at the top and progressing to beautiful, intricate revisions near the bottom. Auguste explains that he distributes Borgia propaganda in Roma. How do such large hands produce such fine detail?

Auguste asks about Cesare's more bizarre requests. I tell him what I know. Cesare has several renowned inventors and engineers in his employ. Rethinking weapons of war. Creating new ones.

The smith's wife tells me I have overstayed my welcome. Demands that I leave. Auguste shouts back at her. The two growl at each other like wild dogs.

Auguste urges me to visit to him again. Carrying the last box of supplies, I push through the door. I promise him I will return. His wife scowls and I reply with a challenging wink.

Spare Parts

Requirements: 12 AP, Inventor's Tools, Modified Arquebus, Gold, 2 Copper, 2 Zinc

Gaspar de la Croix. Engineer. Marksman. Recluse. He frightens me, but his technical skills are unprecedented. His workshop is humble but overfilled. It is difficult to navigate without knocking over his myriad tools.

?

The engineer is distant. He barely acknowledges me. Most of the parts he has repaired are already packed nicely into boxes.

He asks me uncomfortable questions. Have I ever witnessed death? Is death driven by fate, chance, or choice? I do not answer him.

He tinkers with a weapon. Aims it towards the clouded window. Squints at the shadows of people as they pass on the street outside. Sighs. Puts it back on the table and adjusts it further.

I offer Gaspar his payment, but he tells me it is not necessary. I leave it on his workbench anyway.

I thank Gaspar for his help. He answers with a subtle shrug. A haunted man. I am careful to avoid his front window as I walk away from his workshop.

Underground Army Text Dump

Self-explanatory.

Underground Army

Cesare's personal collection of misfits and miscreants grows, their only purpose to create strife within Roma. I am to meet with his key soldiers. Coordinate plans. Provide supplies. Study his animals in the wild.

Hired Muscle

The condottiero Rocco Tiepolo collects warriors. Prides himself on acquiring exotic mercenaries and tactics. He is expensive, but the Borgia have no shortage of money. When I arrive, he is waiting for me. Food on the table. He pours wine.

I pick the mercenaries with obvious battle scars. A clear sign that they know what to expect. Says all of his men have slain countless rivals, so those without scars are more impressive.

Some men show off their weapons. Brag about their exploits. Tease. I look for the silent ones. The serious faces.

Tiepolo instructs two of his mercenaries to fight for my favor as we dine. They are brutal. Each draws blood from the other. No small wounds, either. When they are finished, I tell Tiepolo I am not interested in damaged mercenaries. We both laugh.

The mercenaries ask them where they will be sent to fight. I tell them I suspect Roma will be their battleground. They protest, but Tiepolo silences them.

Tiepolo shows me paintings of his own exploits. He has only lost two battles in decades of combat, but he commanded neither. I ask if he is for sale. He tells me Cesare will have to send more coin for that. He asks if I am for sale and I tell him that I have already been purchased.

Tiepolo invites me to stay longer. Tempting, but I decline. He hands me a signed contract for each man I have selected and I pay him with a pouch of Cesare's coin. The mercenearies are eager for battle. I promise them they will find one soon enough.

The Heedless Horseman

Donato Mancini is Cesare's finest horseman, perhaps better than Cesare himself. The Borgia have gathered for a private race today. The Circo Massimo. I am to bribe Donato to let Cesare win. Threaten him if he will not.

Donato is a confident man. His horse is completely under his control as he approaches and bows. I signal my men to present him with a gift. Exceptional armor. He dismounts and orders his assistants to help him fit into it.

I relay Cesare's threat to Donato. He is not surprised. He tells me the winner will win the race. There are no other factors.

I sit beside Lucrezia Borgia. She refuses to look at me. Thinks me a plaything for Cesare. Perhaps I am. The race begins! Cesare rushes ahead of Donato. Is Cesare is [sic] the better rider?

Donato advances, but is blocked by one of Cesare's officers. I hear Lucrezia mutter to an acquaintance. The rider is Teodor Viscardi. One of Cesare's henchmen.

Teodor produces a blade. Thrusts it at Donato! Donato leans away, then kicks his horse to blaze past both Teodor and Cesare. The crowd gasps! Donato wins! Silence as he rides past us to claim his victory.

Rake

Cesare has sent me to meet with the Cento Occhi. Thieves. Many of them young. Lanz is their leader and Cesare believes he has led an attack on a Borgia carriage. He provides me with evidence. Tells me to make a deal with the gang.

I find Lanz outside a church, counting coins from a pouch he nicked. He does not look up, though he knows I am here. I throw a crude dagger into the dirt near his feet. Wide eyes. Apologies. He realizes I represent the Borgia.

He reclaims his ugly weapon. Sheaths it. Offers to return the stolen money. I tell him he will do that and more. His gang will serve Cesare.

Lanz tells me he has already spent the coin, but he will deliver a portion of it today. Good faith. He asks me to watch him work... if I can keep up.

I watch him bump into a merchant in the crowd. He is gone before the man turns. Next, a noble woman. A priest. He steals from five people before he is spotted. The man calls for guards!

A mounted guard charges into the square and Lanz pushes his victim beneath the horses' hooves. The rider falls. I lose sight of Lanz for a moment, then realize he is halfway up the side of the building beneath me.

Before Lanz leaves, I check my pockets. Everything seems to be in place. I believe Lanz will deliver payment. He fears Cesare.

Close Shave

Cesare has employed a master spy. Baltasar da Silva. He hides behind the guise of a barber, though I am told he has no skill at it. Together, we will stalk Cesare's enemy - a league of assassins. There is much to learn.

Cesare has thrown one of his own senators to the lions. A high profile man with big ambition, notorious for corruption. The senator barely survived an attack this morning, yet Cesare has afforded him no guards. We follow him, waiting for the Assassins to strike again.

The senator remains indoors most of the week. Under Baltasar's lead, we are never spotted.

The senator finally heads for the market. His walk is brisk. Paranoid. Eyes everywhere. Suddenly, a shadow overhead. The assassin is above us!

The assassin leaps! As he lands upon the senator, a weapon protrudes from his wrist. Pierces his victim's neck! The cloaked killer mutters a few words and vanishes. We give chase! Gone.

Baltasar grins. Though I feel failure, he is pleased by what he has learned. He takes notes.

Though we lost sight of the assassin, we have learned much. The garb. The hidden blade. The technique. Baltasar will continue to stalk these cloaked killers and report back to me.