The Arsenale (Chyril 23rd, Tradetide)

[Niccolo]

It wasn't that the young Merchant Lord was in the habit of complaining, but one complaint did preoccupy his mind throughout the course of his morningtide. I have no psychopath.

A psychopath was a very valuable tool. They were (in a manner of speaking) selfless, determined, and willing to do just about anything in the name of fun...and directed at the right target, they could change the world. For a young and uprising Merchant Lord, a psychopath was the axe...and Niccolo Amadicci Alvero was the hand that should wield it. Finley had been an ideal psychopath...and Darug was exceptional as well, if somewhat noticeable in a crowd. But Finley was gone, and Darug was injured...and that left Nico with no psychopaths to be had. Merde.

Thankfully, a psychopath wasn't absolutely critical to complete his plans for the utter defeat of the Syndicate. Not for this maneuver, anyway.

Turning a corner, a young laborer wearing worn dockyard clothes under a threadbare coat moved onto the Parade marching West towards the Arsenale. It wasn't the best of disguises...any of Nico's closer associates would see through it...but it had the strong advantage of being ambiguous. Nico wasn't trying to look like anyone specific. He just needed to not look like Nico, which wasn't too hard given that precious few people knew his face, anyway. Today, Nico was a gentleman named Luca di Lucien, a humble laborer and card-holding member of the Union of Laborers and Teamsters...a face and a name that didn't technically exist, but remained on the Union ledgers since last yahren.

No doubt the city would be in an uproar over the vendetta. Last night, Severo Lo Russo was arrested for mysterious charges, a notorious gangster was cut down, and the Constanza house burned to the ground...Salute, Tormsen. You made the right decision....and so, there was no hiding the very real war going on even now. To the public eye, the vendetta was going poorly for the Constanza clan in that dear Madam Constanza could have been killed in the fire (rumor had a way of making it's own truth). To the more capable eye, the situation was far, far worse, with Severo neutralized and unable to respond, Hart's organization broken and defeated, and the petulant upstart Prima chased out into the wild.

But that was rumor. Rumor was just another tool...and it was one Niccolo Amadicci Alvero absolutely depended upon for his next maneuver.

There was a possibility that someone might have pieced together Niccolo's involvement in every action for the vendetta thus far. He had arranged Severo to be arrested...he had arranged for the Constanza manse to be burned...and he had broken Hart himself. Indeed, it was possible that someone might have linked all of these tragedies to the Director of the ULT...but highly unlikely in so short a time. Even now, Nico's opponents would still be piecing together what was happening...and perhaps preparing a counter strike, late as it would be. The first great surprise of Nico's Grand Design was that the counter strike, such as it is, had already been planned long before they knew what was upon them. And the second grant surprise was just who had planned it.

Tock...tock... Nico's worn, hob-nailed boots struck the cobbles of the Parade as he hobbled up to the Arsenale, intent to gain entry and survey the scene of his final strike. He hadn't shared the location with anyone save Signor Darug and his intended victims...and for good reason. He couldn't afford to be betrayed or double-crossed, and so he eliminated this chance simply by being quiet. Only he and his expected guests knew that the Espresso Syndicate...the strongest political faction World's Mouth had ever seen...would be collecting right here, this very night.

And unless some miracle would befall them, they would all die to a man.

----

Chyril 23rd, Tradetide

At the far western end of World's Mouth, where the Upper and Lower Scillus rivers meet, stands a fortress known as the Tooth. Often the first sight one received of the Mouth when arriving by boat, the Arsenale and the massive construction that defended it can be intimidating, for it was built more recently than many other major buildings in the city, and its gleaming, new, stone walls housed a long row of lethal bronze cannons poking out towards the approaching waterways with unspoken vigilance. A magnificent tower, reaching high above the waters that surrounds the fortress, serves as both a beacon in the misty waters and as a post from which the city might stay ever vigilant. The complex commanded both the approach to the city from the West and both rivers themselves.

Behind the Tooth was the Arsenale itself, a massive lock between both rivers that housed many of the city's government and private vessels. Accessed from either of two different sea gates, the Arsenale was lined with numerous docks and yards on all sides, an inland harbor of great size and never sleeping activity. Cargo from the Arsenale could be stored in the modest bondhouses located just on hand, and the wide and winding Parade Street ran from the great shipyard to points with Southbridge and beyond. Just off the Arsenale was the Armorie, the government shipyards in which all of the city's warships and some of the Magisters' private ships were constructed, each a great dry dock of stone leading into a smaller section of the locks.

All around the Arsenale were buildings of all kinds, from ale houses to service the mariners to warehouses to make cargo delivery easier. The harbourmaster's office, a strangely small and unimpressive building, stood at the edge of the larger lock itself, overseeing day to day use of the precious docking locations, charging wharfage fees for private merchants and controlling all traffic into and out of the Mouth. Few places in the city truly demonstrated the mass of goods that flowed through its markets like the Arsenale.

Even now, the Arsenale would be closed to public entrance...another of Nico's earlier maneuvers. But Nico had his Union card, good for admission...and he could admit himself anonymously, at least to the guards. Once inside, he could muster what resources he needed and prepare for an eveningtide the city would never forget. Curiously, no one would thank him for breaking the yoke of the Espresso Syndicate...not even Lo Russo, who should be the first among them...but it was all the same.

After all, Nico intended to take his just rewards when it was all said and done.

With that in mind, Niccolo Amadicci Alvero...that is, Luca di Lucien...joined the line of people entering the Arsenale for work. Once inside, he would have the entire day to produce the finest trap...and coup d'état...imaginable.

[Morg]

The oppressive weather didn't stop the work at the Arsenale... but then nothing really did. One of the constants of the Mouth was that an enormous number of men would spend an enormous amount of time working around the clock at the enormous harbour. And thanks to Niccolo's earlier actions, only senior Council employees, guilded workers and Union members were allowed in. With the exception of those heading to the Door, the great public portal with its own corridor of traffic, all who wished to enter had to prove their identity to the Panditairre legionnaires at the gates. Before Niccolo, men fumbled in their bags and pockets for Union cards and letters bearing Guild seals to present to the two men whose duty it was to restrict entrance.

Such was the stream of traffic that the uniformed young man who the Director had to pass barely even glanced at the card, looking away as soon as he recognised it as belonging to the Union and mumbling "Good day, signore". Niccolo was free to enter the hive of activity beyond.

[Niccolo]

Once through the gates, Nico moved forward quickly, huddled in his long, worn coat and nestled under his massive, floppy hat that he held in place against the brisk weather with one clutching hand. He didn't look much different than any other laborer in the city...it wasn't too many yahren ago he was any other laborer in the city...so the part came naturally to him.

Saphio's ships...Saphio's ships...

Magister Saphio was now an "ally" and fellow member of the Espresso Syndicate. However, it wasn't more than a few months ago that Saphio had been the first Merchant Lord to oppose the ULT, refusing to pay or work with Union laborers. Nico had planned an eveningtide in which he would burn at least one of Saphio's precious Guild Ships to the waterline...but that necessity evaporated when Niccolo was admitted into the Syndicate. Saphio's ships were saved and he grudgingly began doing business with the Union of Laborers and Teamsters...and the rest of the city was left to ponder just what accord Saphio and Alvero had reached.

However, the event left Nico with a clear idea of which ships were his. Saphio's Guild Ships were named after precious stones...the Amethyst, the Emerald, the Ruby, and so forth. Of course, Saphio was far more than just a Councilor. He was a Magister...and his precious Guild Fleet was actually used to conduct guild related activities for the benefit of World's Mouth. In practice, however, they were his private merchantmen...but like most things in World's Mouth, the Intent and the Practical seldom met on equal footing.

Still, it gave Nico a small sense of preparation. he had even drafted a swarthy sea captain...Liam Morgen...to assist with the strike upon the Guild Fleet, but Liam disappeared almost at the same time as Saphio's opposition. That meant that Nico would have to unearth his plans from almost four months ago, and finally execute them on one very special ship in the Guild Fleet.

But which ship? pondered Nico. He didn't know how many of the Guild Ships would be in harbor, and he didn't know which one of those ships would be hosting a number of distinguished guests late this eveningtide. It was entirely possible that one of the ships had already pulled out into the middle of the Arsenale...but that seemed unlikely. No, instead, one of them might be preparing for the task even now...and Nico needed to find out which one.

You never know? It might just be obvious, smiled Nico. Moving to the edge of the massive, artificial lock that was the Arsenale, Nico scanned the wharfs, piers, and moles to catch sight of any Guild Ships in harbor...there could be anywhere from one to twenty, Nico didn't know...and to check the center of the Arsenale for any ships moored at anchor in the center.

In the off chance that one was already there, that would be Nico's mark.

[Morg]

The ship hadn't yet taken its place in the centre of the waters, but it was easy to see which one would be used for the eveningtide's meeting. The Sapphire, a four-masted carrack, was the pride of Saphio's fleet, for obvious reasons... and right now it was lying at anchor at Pier 12, with a squad of Panditairre standing guard over it. As well as being the defenders of the Arsenale, this legion was under the command of Magister Amadici; one of the partners in the Aveas Exports Company, although a far less influential one than its leaders Carloni, Saphio and Maglio.

The Sapphire was the only Guild ship not in the process of being loaded or unloaded. Five others were also present - the Carnelian, the Opal, the Garnet, the Nephrite and the Lapis Lazuli - but all were surrounded by varying numbers of boxes, barrels and crates, and the Nephrite lay so low in the water that it seemed that a slight squall would cause water to flood over its deck. Such weather wasn't inconceivable, given the threatening clouds gathering above. The Sapphire, by contrast, was extremely empty, a lone sailor mopping its decks.

[Niccolo]

There's the mark.

Niccolo didn't know a great deal about nautical vessels, but he was sensible enough to be impressed with the magnificent ship. It was a horrifying shame that such a thing should have to be destroyed for the young Merchant Lord to accomplish his goals, but nothing could be done for it. Thankfully, Nico knew enough about ships to know a few very important facts, and he would use these sparse facts to help murder everyone aboard.

First, all ships floated on water, a very perilous arrangement that could easily be thwarted...but left them, by virtue, isolated when they were out at sea...or perhaps pulled out into the middle of the harbor. Second, all ships traditionally carried spirits...which made them somewhat vulnerable to fires. And finally, these ships were armed with guns...making them very vulnerable to fire. For Nico's plan to work, he would need to touch off the Sapphire in such a way that she lit up the night sky and signalled the end of the Syndicate in such a way that it would be seen from East End. No problem.

But I'm going to need a few things.

Chief among them was a boat. A little rowboat would deliver the device, disguised as Nico's entourage rowing out to the ship for the purposes of tonight's meeting. Second, he needed rope...enough thumb-gauge line to cross the Arsenale plus a bit more. Finally...and most tricky...he needed powder. He could swipe some from the military fortress here in the Arsenale...but chances are he could find easier pickings among the victuallers or supply stores for the flotilla. He might receive the supply from Tristam...he had instructed a runner to let him know if such a supply arrived for him at the 'Dortman...but that might be unlikely. Tormsen managed the fire to perfection, but smuggling away a few casks of powder might have been too much to hope for given his rather hectic night.

And so, Nico would go towards the harbormaster's office first. Bernardo Grigori would be there, the harbormaster and local Union Chief for the ULT. Bernardo had made a small fortune in dues over the last few months thanks to the Union's tireless efforts, and in turn he would no doubt do very much to protect those profits. Niccolo needed to arrange a discreet meeting to get the boat and the ropes he needed first. Grigori would be curious...but Grigori was far too wise to ask too many questions. It was a trait Nico valued in the man immensely.

Pacing towards the harbormaster's office, Nico tried to spot the man...and to slip into the office like any other harborman, without any additional attention. Bernardo would no doubt recognize him...and with any luck, he would take Nico aside to learn just why the Director of the ULT came to him in this strange disguise.

[Morg]

As Nico had predicted, Bernardo Grigori was in his office, poring over a schematic plan of the harbour and making brief notes on it with a stick of charcoal. The Harbour Master rarely had to do any actual overseeing these days; since Darkenry he had had a pair of underlings to manage the practical aspects of his role for him, and even a scribe working in his office, a pale-faced, rather sickly-looking woman. The Arsenale had been humming of late, and the increased commerce had led to benefits for those who worked there. Even the Panditairre legion had a new, clean set of uniforms.

Grigori was quite at his ease as he looked up from his work. After a few flickers of scrutiny of the new arrival, comprehension hit the plump, grey-haired man's face and he waved to his scribe. "Lucille! I need to talk to this man in private. Get yourself some fresh air," he ordered, and the woman rose and departed the room. Once she'd left, leaving him and Niccolo alone in the office, he beckoned the much younger man closer.

"Salute, Direttore Alvero," he greeted him warmly. As far as Grigori was concerned, Niccolo was the best thing to happen to him in yahren, so the careworn man always had a smile in reserve for him. "I don't wonder that you come to me in secret. Is this perhaps because of the happenings of last gravetide?" There was real concern in the Harbour Master's voice. His fortunes, after all, would rise and fall with those of Niccolo and the ULT.

[Niccolo]

Waiting until the door closed behind the lady, Niccolo quickly glanced peeked through it and latched it in place before moving to join Bernardo. "It is, Bernardo...I'm afraid it is. A very messy business that gives me to move about like some kind of spy or thief," murmured Niccolo.

One of the cornerstones of the ULT's birth was here, in the Arsenale...and it was largely dependent upon the largesse of the very same harbormaster that greeted the Director even now. It was not only possible but genuinely likely that Bernardo Grigori was grafting and embezzling a strong amount from Union funds collected here at the Arsenale...but that was an acceptable practice, and one Niccolo continued to happily overlook. His true value went much further than mere coin...a value that Nico would have paid much much more to maintain.

But then, there were rules regarding assets such as Bernardo Grigori. For example, the man was simply not allowed to participate...much less know...about any of the more illicit Union activities...and his position would be protected at all cost, regardless of circumstances. Grigori's position was more important to Nico personally than he might be to the ULT, so it was even likely Nico would implicate himself or the Union before he would allow any negative publicity or incriminations to fall upon the harbormaster. After all...anyone could claim responsibility for a murder, or a breach of security, or racketeering. Bernardo wasn't just anyone.

Of course, for this reason the harbormaster was a weakness. Throughout the city, his loyalties would be well-known. He was more than just a harbormaster: He was also a foreman and officer in the Union of Laborers and Teamsters, and a known advocate of their operations (the copious volumes of cash made such a reputation worth-while and even desirable to most), and as such Nico's enemies might find a ready point of attack in Bernardo. He was not a Councilor...his only strong affiliation was the Union...and while Nico could revenge him completely should he come to harm, the Director could not recover completely from his loss.

"It is, too. Things have become complicated in recent days, though I assure you that I'm doing much to...resolve matters," continued the Merchant Lord...pointless words, as Bernardo would know that already. Still, Bernardo would be able to provide one very potent service. Since he didn't actually know of Nico's vendetta plans...and he didn't see or anticipate last night's attacks...Nico could sound the man for rumor. Bernardo would have heard all the usual street rumor, and he would have interpreted it in a sensible manner. Those very rumors were the bait meant to lure the Syndicate here, to this place, on this very eveningtide...so it would be convenient for Nico to confirm that his efforts have indeed paid in full. "Tell me...what have you heard? What is being said on the streets and among the merchants about...last night?"

[Morg]

"A lot of things are being said," responded the Harbour Master uncomfortably. He gestured for Niccolo to take Lucille's seat should he wish to, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. The hot, muggy weather was not well suited to a man as fleshy as Grigori. "I'd offer you a cognac, but I'm guessing it's not the time."

Bernardo Grigori sighed. "Two things are being said. The first is that there was some sort of upheaval in Southbridge last gravetide, in the Punt Den. The results are unclear... some say that Hart was killed, and a few say that you were killed... but all agree that you were there and involved. Or at least that the Union was involved, which amounts to the same thing."

There was worry in the Harbour Master's eyes, and a little reproach, although he was far too wise to voice it. When he'd joined the Union, back when it all began, nothing had been said about involvement with the underworld, and Grigori did not wish it, even by association. Fortunately, he wasn't involved, and hopefully would never be, which at least gave him the advantage of plausible deniability. Of course, like any self-respecting Harbour Master, Grigori had had his own arrangements to prevent Hart and his men from disrupting operations too much. With Hart dead, he'd have to see who came out on top before being able to renegotiate, which was a blow.

"The second thing isn't directly connected with you, just with one of your interests," he continued, sipping from a flask of weak ale. "The seat of House Constanza burned down last night, and by all accounts it was no accident. The workers have no idea what's behind it, but they know that much. The merchants are speculating... and they say that the Aveas Exports Company had every reason to start a vendetta." He looked up at the disguised Director. Grigori, at least, was well aware of Niccolo's involvement with the Syndicate, although not acquainted with the details. "They say that Lady Prima will have great trouble recovering from such a setback, if she's still alive. And if it was the... Company, then the vendetta has not only started. It's as good as over."

[Niccolo]

It was not unlike music to Niccolo's ears. Tristam did it! At the end of the day, Nico didn't really know if the gentleman would...but Prima hadn't hired him for no reason at all. The wolf-for-hire had fangs after all...and his stroke might just win the day for them both. Of course, Bernardo didn't have the whole story even still...he knew nothing about Lo Russo...but that didn't matter. The harbormaster didn't seem the type to collect that kind of information, and Nico had no real reason to believe that Saphio's incrimination even worked. I'll have to be careful, thought Nico. It would be the very soul of parody if Niccolo were murdered by Lo Russo before he could properly betray Lo Russo's enemies. I think that might constitute a joke, non?

But for now...the matter at hand. After a polite refusal of the offered drink... "Bernardo, I must tell you that Hart has indeed been slain, and that most believe I am responsible for it," began Niccolo. That would no doubt explain away the disguise...and indeed, it was perhaps a good reason for Nico to be wearing a disguise. However, that was not the real reason he did so. "It would be wisest if you were to...hire additional guards...for yourself, that is...and perhaps travel with some protection for a short time? I'm not certain what the next few days will bring, but we must be very cautious until we see what will come of his passing. Ah...perhaps you might take your leave early today to see to these arrangements? You will want to be sure your family is protected, at least until this vendetta business has settled. You have my deepest apologies for the necessity of it."

And now came the subtle part of the communication...a conversation not unlike one they had a few months before. "Ah...in fact, it might be best if you did leave early today...and perhaps made those arrangements very publicly, and...perhaps took your dear wife to the...Wild Magic event this eveningtide? It will be quite safe...I'm sure thousands will be on hand...and with any luck, this vendetta situation may be over faster than you might think." There was no mistaking the implications, of course. Niccolo was advising the harbormaster to establish a very undeniable alibi...but he offered nothing regarding just what that alibi might be for.

[Morg]

Mio Deus. Now Grigori was in a quandary. Niccolo was clearly suggesting in no uncertain terms that he not be at the Arsenale that eveningtide. On the one hand, he didn't want to know why. On the other, he felt it his duty to know what was going to happen to his beloved harbour. To ask or not to ask.

The Harbour Master didn't ask, in the end. "I will be in touch with the Colonel of the Panditairre," he replied, twisting his fingers and hands around one another. His word already carried a lot of weight with the legion's officers, and the legionnaires amounted to free protection as long as he didn't abuse that privilege. Of course, they were under Amadici's command, but as far as Grigori knew that wouldn't be a problem. "Maybe hire a few bravos to look after the family, too. And... I'll be at the show this evening, Direttore," he decided. "I can probably delegate what needs to be done this eveningtide, although there are some rather specific requirements that need to be handled." Grigori didn't connect Niccolo with those requirements for the flicker. To the Harbour Master, there was business and then there was business. "I will be gone by the first mark of eveningtide."

[Niccolo]

"That would be well," nodded Niccolo as he tapped a finger to his own jaw. That would remove Grigori from the scene...and should do so without arousing any suspicion (beyond Bernardo's own suspicions). After all, everyone would be at the show tonight. Everyone save for those that had other business here. "Yes, that would be well."

It was an uncomfortable discussion, but it was over. Now he could move on to more mundane matters...affairs more typical for a harbormaster. Of course, as with anything Niccolo pursued, there was nothing mundane or typical about his intentions for the seemingly harmless request.

"I need something simple as well, Bernardo...something far safer, a request with which you are no doubt imminently familiar. I need a few supplies from the Arsenale victualler...a rowboat, a few of the heavy storm lanterns, some cordage...the usual materials necessary for managing incoming traffic. I should be pleased to pay for the materials myself, of course...on behalf of the Aveas Exports Company. The usual dispensation to access the harbor magazine should be adequate. I intend to settle all accounts in cash immediately."

[Maeve]

The harbormaster tried not to think on what Nico might do with such material on an eveningtide like this. "Certainly Diretorre, consider it done," he simply said.

OOC: Signor, a dragon came sailing in again. Pardone for any mess ups with atmosphere and previously established details, for which I am of course consulting with signor Scrylock. As soon as matters affect signora Lo Russo I will of course be forced to call in a replacement but for now I think we will manage, non?

[Niccolo]

(OOC: together again, Signora? I am delighted!)


"Then I will leave you, Signor, and see to my business. May Dominicus smile upon you and your family," murmured the Director, rising and bowing in a fashion that was very unusual for his disguise. "I will go to the magazine at once and make the necessary arrangements. Ah..." Nico paused "...if you would provide me with a letter for this access to the name of Luca di Lucien, I would appreciate it. Business must continue despite my need to remain...hidden. At least until I have hired my own guards to protect my person!"


It was a jest, but it was true. Niccolo hadn't brought the usual cohort of Union guards with him to the Arsenale today. After all, he was here as Luca di Lucien...a Union member with credentials that dated back to the founding of the ULT. They weren't technically fake...he could actually prove the existence of a member by that name...but the man himself was nothing more than a name Nico often used for less public activities. With Darug injured and Finley departed, Nico didn't have anything close to the muscle he actually needed...but he would have to persevere anyway. Business must continue.


Once his business with Bernardo was complete, Nico would slip away and find the naval stores. No doubt the naval stores in World's Mouth were shockingly busy...ships were arriving and departing virtually every day...so it would seem strange if Nico could not acquire the goods he would need to set his plan in motion.

[Morg]

(OOC: Tie-over!)

"Of course," Grigori responded immediately. He drew a pro forma letter from a shelf, writing on the name of di Lucien and adding his own signature before passing it to the Director. The type of access Niccolo required was commonly granted, although usually to ships' officers rather than labourers. Nevertheless, it would not likely be commented upon. "May you walk in the Light, Signore."

The Arsenale's magazine was a low, brick-built construction, very close to the waterfront itself. Its arched front entrance was guarded by four Panditairre legionnaires, although these made no pretence at trying to restrict access. They were simply there to make sure no one broke the peace.

Within it was dark, lit only by a string of strange lanterns emitting cool blue light. It was also almost claustrophobic, with nautical supplies of all kinds in rows across the building. The left wall held a variety of small boats propped up on their ends, and ropes, lanterns and tools of all kinds were to the right. Further in were stacked barrels of pitch. People moved about in the gloom, locating what they needed. Holding court in the centre was a man with a thick black beard and bushy eyebrows, surrounded by ledgers and cashboxes. A few young boys were dashing about the place following the victualler's instructions, and another member of the Panditairre lurked nearby, keeping a watchful eye on transactions.

[Morg]

Archived without skilling due to player inactivity.