System in Assassin's Creed

Chapter 98: Chapter 97: Talk to Ezio?

[Current Balance: 374,963,763 scudi, 5 baiocchi]

---

A week passed quickly at the Auditore Villa.

Life settled into a strange sort of rhythm as Alaric mingled easily with the Assassins, sharing meals, observing their training, and occasionally offering cryptic but surprisingly insightful advice that left them scratching their heads.

He found it amusing how quickly the bruises and strains from their ”spar” had vanished; the Brotherhood clearly had access to a small, precious stock of Celestial Salves.

---Flashback---

The morning after the spar, the villa’s infirmary and common areas had been filled with groaning Assassins nursing sore muscles and bruised egos.

Alaric, feeling a sliver of guilt despite knowing they’d asked for it, watched as Matteo carefully distributed three small vials of the familiar shimmering salve. He instructed three senior Assassins to apply it sparingly to those most in need, particularly those who’d had unfortunate encounters with redirected weapons during the melee.

”Where did you get that?” he asked casually and approached the Maestro, nodding towards the vial Matteo held.

Matteo looked up, surprised as he carefully corked the vial.. ”Ah... the Celestial Salves? A small miracolo, these. We acquired them some months ago, looted from a Spanish Templar convoy intercepted near Naples.”

Alaric nodded slowly. ”Do you happen to know where they originated?”

”The markings indicate English make,” Matteo replied. ”From what our contacts could gather, rumour suggests they are produced by the Crown Palace in England, though the exact source is heavily guarded.”

Alaric raised his eyebrows slightly. ’So the Crown is taking credit, or at least letting people believe they control the supply,’

’Does Penn know about this distribution method? Or is this Templars stealing from Penn’s shipments? I certainly didn’t authorize this.’ He pushed the thought aside for later investigation.

”Interesting,” he said aloud. ”I believe I have a few similar vials in my luggage from London. I can give them to you, add to your stock.”

Matteo’s eyes widened. ”You do? Veramente? These are incredibly difficult to come by! More precious than gold!”

Alaric nodded. ”Yeah, I’ll give you what I have later. I don’t really need them myself.”

Matteo stared at Alaric for a moment, perhaps reassessing the strange Englishman once again.

”Grazie, Alaric,” he said finally, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. ”That would be truly helpful to the Brotherhood.”

---End of Flashback---

Reuben, thankfully, hadn’t needed any Celestial Salves. Alaric hadn’t hit him hard enough to cause lasting injury, focusing more on deflection and light counters during their spar. Besides, the ”Asura’s Crest” Fuinjutsu seal Alaric had placed on him provided enhanced regeneration, quickly mending any minor cuts or bruises he might have sustained.

Life at the villa continued. Many of the Assassins Alaric had sparred against departed over the week, sent off on missions by Matteo or leaving for their own journeys across Italy and beyond. The villa grew quieter, though a core group remained.

One afternoon, Alaric finished a late lunch in the large dining hall. He picked up his empty plate, servants were scarce in this hidden stronghold, and everyone cleaned up after themselves.

As he walked towards the kitchen where the sinks were located, he passed a female Assassin diligently scrubbing her own plate. She noticed him enter and immediately stopped, drying her hands.

”Ah, Maestro Kenway,” she said respectfully, using the title the Assassins had unofficially bestowed upon him after the spar. ”Allow me, let me wash that for you.”

’Maestro!?’ Alaric shook his head with a smile. ”No need, thank you. I don’t like power-tripping.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly, unfamiliar with the English idiom. ”Power... tripping, Maestro?”

”Don’t mind it,” Alaric chuckled. ”Just means I can wash my own plate.”

”But per favore,” she insisted politely, gesturing to the sink. ”I am washing my piatto anyway. It is no trouble.”

Alaric considered for a second, then shrugged. ”Well... if you insist.” He handed her the plate with a smile. ”Grazie.”

”Prego!” she replied cheerfully, taking the plate.

Alaric turned and headed towards the main living room, intending to relax, but stopped by the archway as he overheard fragments of a worried conversation.

”...No, the funds from Barceno are already allocated. It is not enough. Everyone will go hungry at this rate if we cannot secure more supplies soon.” That was Matteo’s voice, strained with worry.

”But papà, I brought back eight hundred scudi! Surely that helps?” Flavia sounded distressed.

”Sì, Flavia, every bit helps. But the famine last year... the prices for grain, for livestock... they remain inflated. Four hundred scudi barely covered necessities last month, and that was stretching thin.”

”Minchia!” Flavia cursed softly. ”How about the others? The mission reports?”

Alaric decided he’d heard enough. He stepped into the living room. Matteo and Flavia looked up, surprised.

”So,” Alaric stated calmly, ”you guys have a problema.”

Matteo sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. Flavia just massaged her forehead, looking stressed.

”It is... a difficult time, Alaric,” Matteo admitted.

”What do you guys need?” Alaric asked directly.

”Ah no, we cannot possibly bother you with our burdens, Alaric,” Matteo began, shaking his head. ”You are our guest...”

But Flavia couldn’t hold back. ”We need help, Alaric,” she burst out, looking desperate before catching herself. ”We lack sufficient funds for supplies, the reserves are low, and...”

Alaric held up a hand gently. ”What about the Assassins out on missione? The bounties, the contracts?”

Matteo shook his head again. ”It is not enough. Most of the current missions are long-term intelligence gathering, tracking potential Templar leads across Italy and beyond. The few bounty collections barely cover the agents’ own expenses.”

”And?” Alaric prompted.

”And so far... no significant income has materialized,” Matteo finished grimly.

Alaric sighed internally. Assassins doing noble work but struggling with basic logistics. Typical. ”How much do you normally spend here per month?” he asked.

Matteo looked hesitant, then answered frankly. ”For the fifty-five souls currently residing here... trainees, veterans, support staff... it costs roughly four hundred scudi a month, sometimes more now, especially with the lingering high prices from the famine last year.”

Alaric did a quick mental calculation. Four hundred scudi a month. That was... surprisingly large, from his perspective as that equivalents to £125, and that amount is like two months for fifty people in england. He thought about it for a few seconds. ”Alright,” he said decisively. ”I’ll be back.”

He turned and walked away, leaving a confused Matteo and Flavia staring after him. Alaric headed straight to the guest room he’d been given. He could sense Reuben was still asleep in the adjacent room, likely recovering from a late night spent with Flavia. Alaric chuckled quietly.

He closed the door to his room, then opened the System interface, navigating to his balance. ’I can give them this much... should cover them for a good long while. It’s not even a lot for me, anyway.’

[Money Withdrawal: - 24,000 scudi](£7,500)

[Current Balance: 374,939,763 scudi, 5 baiocchi]

With a soft thump, several large, heavy sacks appeared neatly stacked on the floor beside his bed, bulging with coins. Alaric nodded in satisfaction. ’This should definitely make me earn their trust... or at least buy a lot of goodwill.’

He walked back out and found Matteo and Flavia still in the living room, looking worried and uncertain. ”Why don’t you guys follow me,” Alaric said casually.

Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, they followed him back down the corridor to his room. Alaric pushed the door open wide, revealing the small mountain of coin-filled sacks sitting on the floor.

Matteo and Flavia stopped dead in the doorway, their eyes widening in absolute shock. They stared at the sacks, then at Alaric, then back at the sacks, speechless. Twenty-four thousand scudi... it was an astronomical sum, likely more liquid cash than the entire Monteriggioni Brotherhood had seen in years, possibly decades.

”Alaric... Cosa... cosa è questo?” Matteo finally stammered, finding his voice. (What... what is this?)

”This cannot be...” Flavia whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.

”It’s five years’ worth of your operating expenses, Maestro,” Alaric stated simply. ”Maybe more, depending on how things go. Consider it... an investment.”

Matteo looked horrified. ”No! Alaric, we cannot possibly accept this! This is... this is too much! It is charity we do not deserve, help we did not ask for!”

”Padre is right,” Flavia agreed quickly, though her eyes kept darting back to the sacks. ”We appreciate the thought, truly, but the Brotherhood must stand on its own.”

Alaric sighed, leaning against the doorframe as he tried to reason out. ”Look, I understand your pride. But you just told me you’re struggling. People might go hungry. Missions might fail because agents lack resources.”

He met Matteo’s gaze directly. ”I may not be an Assassino, Maestro, but I know enough to understand what you fight for. Protecting free will, fighting oppression... it’s a noble purpose, even if your methods are sometimes... questionable.” He shrugged. ”Think of this as funding for that purpose. Helping you continue your work. It’s not charity; it’s support for a cause I find... slightly agreeable.”

Matteo and Flavia exchanged a long look. The sheer amount of money was staggering, a solution to so many of their immediate problems. Pride warred with practicality. Finally, Matteo let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly.

”Your generosità... and your comprensione... leaves me speechless, Alaric,” he said quietly, looking genuinely moved. ”We... we will accept this. For the Brotherhood. Grazie.”

Flavia nodded, tears welling slightly in her eyes. ”Grazie mille, Alaric.”

”But,” Matteo added quickly, straightening up again, his sense of honor returning, ”this cannot be a mere gift. What can we do to repay such a sum? What service can the Brotherhood offer you in return?”

Alaric waved a hand dismissively. ”Don’t worry about it, Maestro. Consider it done.”

”No,” Matteo insisted firmly. ”An Auditore, an Assassin, always repays his debts. We must offer something in return for such aid.”

Alaric sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. ”Haaa... alright, fine, if you insist.” He thought for a moment. ”Actually... there is something.”

Matteo and Flavia looked at him expectantly.

”If it’s not too much trouble,” Alaric said casually, ”you could let me see Ezio Auditore’s grave. Pay my respects properly. And maybe... allow me access to his study? His armor, his journals, things like that? Just to look.”

Matteo raised an eyebrow, surprised by the modest request after such a huge donation. ”That is all? Access to the Sanctuary and Ezio’s study?” He paused. ”Are you certain? Is there not some task you require? Some enemy you wish us to eliminate?”

”No enemies right now that require your... particular skills,” Alaric shook his head and smiled faintly. ”No, I just want to see the resting place of a legend. Maybe... have a quiet word with Ezio, if that’s okay with you.”

Flavia and Matteo exchanged another confused look. Talk to Ezio? He likely meant he just wanted a moment of quiet reflection at the grave.

”Va bene,” Matteo agreed slowly, still slightly bewildered. ”It shall be arranged. You may visit the Sanctuary whenever you wish. It is in the underground entrance.”

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