"And you're sure, Master Lucazza? The merchandise are safe and unharmed?" A young nobleman with his arms crossed over his expensive silk tunic stared at Lucazza with alarmed eyes, his brows tense and wrinkled. The young man’s glare was enough to stop an attacking bear in its tracks. But Lucazza reassured him with a warm smile, his mustache wiggling like an excited worm.

"Not to worry, Master Giotto. The bandits, ruthless and barbaric as they were, were neatly taken care of by the mercs you've hired. They're dinged up and bruised, but be assured that the valuables are unharmed and are in perfect condition. Just only a little over a month left until the caravan reach the city, and then I can prove to you my abilities as a valuable asset." Lucazza’s eyes twinkled as he beamed at his partner, the same sparkle that glittered about his sweaty mustache.

Giotto gave a deep, relieved sigh as he leaned back against the banister, letting his beefy arms relax and fall to his sides. The two men were standing ontop of a balcony of Dmitri Giotto’s mansion, the blazing sunlight accentuating the expensiveness of their suits. Giotto was a nobleman of middle-class; his family deriving from generations of businessmen and politicians. He himself made his own little fortune through the investments of small businesses owned by higher-class merchants. He had a little chain of successful establishments littered across several districts throughout the city. 

His most recent investment was to a young merchant by the name of Nikoros Lucazza. Lucazza was from a neighboring city who had travelled to the capital of Farecia in the hopes of seeking out a compatible business partner in order to fund the transportation of a secretive yet promising resource: synthetic oil that is guaranteed to extend the duration of a lit lamp by eighty percent. With this new source of fuel for light introduced to Farecia by Giotto, Lucazza promised that the young aristocrat would be able to buy out and dominate the existing illumination industry. Not only that, but because this was such a scientific breakthrough with the construction of a more reliable, efficient fuel for light, Lucazza promised that Giotto could be named “the Father of Light”, a title that was the final push into sealing the deal. Noblemen love titles. 

And so the youthful partnership was established between two handsome young men. Giotto would invest in the transportation and production of the synthetic oil, as well as setting up a factory within the city of Farecia, while Lucazza would do the ‘heavy-work’, which includes all of the paper-work, the organization of caravans, and the overseeing of the operation as a whole. All Giotto had to do was to supply the funds and to pay for any miscellaneous expenses. 

Expenses such as the medical bills of hired, bleeding mercenaries.

“So, Dmitri, my brother, all I need you to do is sign this bank note here stating for the withdrawal of...several amounts of gold so I can properly send medical supplies and physicians to rendezvous with our caravan.” Lucazza smile apologetically. He twirled the ends of his mustache as he nervously waited for his friend’s reply. It has been three weeks into the estimated two-month long operation, and Giotto had already spent double the amount of his budget for the first month.

The young nobleman scowled. “What? Why so much? This is triple the amount that you asked for yesterday! You told me that there were no more hindrances to our plans, Nikoros!” Giotto groaned, rubbing his face tiredly with his gloved hand. Lucazza winced, feeling the stress radiating from his partner. He sighed, looking at Giotto directly in the eyes. 

“I know, Dmitri, and I’m sorry. It can’t be helped. Yesterday’s expenses were for the horses plagued by fever. You know we can’t advance our operation with such a plight. How are we to move our caravans with dead horses? But with the medicine, those brutish beasts are as healthy as ever, if not more. However, today, the expenses are for the treatment of [i]men[/i], Dmitri, and we beautiful creatures are far more complex and superior than simple beasts. It’s only logical that the prescription would cost more. We also need to take into the account of tending to our travelling physicians. You know how soft those men are, they need to be pampered or else they’ll break when on the road. I know that you can see reason in what I’m saying, my friend. Just a few more gold. This is for the sake of our business.” Lucazza crossed his arms, eyeing his silent partner warily.

Finally, with another worn-out groan, Giotto snatched the parchment and went back inside to his office. Lucazza smiled to himself, pleased to have avoided the tantrum of his friend. As he straightened up and dusted off his coat, Giotto came back with the note in hand. He glared firmly at Lucazza.

“Remember our deal, Nikoros. This investment has already costed me a fourth of my savings.” Giotto took a step forward, reaching out and clutching Lucazza by the collar of his tunic viciously. The nobleman was substantially bigger and stronger than Lucazza. “If this thing doesn’t pull through, expect me at your doorstep to rip off your balls and make you watch as I feed them to the starving and desperate lepers infested in the alleyways.”

The smaller man nodded, grabbing the bank note and pulling away from Giotto’s clutches fearlessly. Lucazza patted his partner’s arm reassuringly and gave a wide smile.

“Just trust me.” 

And with that, Lucazza tucked away the bank note into his coat and left. 

He suppressed a delightful laugh as he was escorted out of the mansion’s gate by Giotto’s butler, which he tipped generously for the gentleman’s abbreviated company. The butler, shocked by such a large sum, respectfully declined but the young man shook his head, giving the gentleman a sly smile.

“Don’t fret, now. I’m a man of numerous wealth. In fact, I have just acquired a delicious amount to my fortunes not too long ago.” Zico winked and wiggled his droopy and lopsided mustache, the facial hair fake as the operation to deliver 'synthetic oil' that ‘Lucazza’ promised to the buffoon Giotto. 

There was no oil, no caravan, no injured mercenaries. For the past three weeks, Zico has been duping Giotto out of hundreds of gold, stating that the money was needed to fund the transportation of goods. Zico had fronted the nobleman with fake obstructions that could easily be dislodged with money. But the scam has ran it's course; Giotto's getting impatient, but more dangerously, suspicious. Now was the time to shed the colorful persona that is "Lucazza" and flee the city. With ten handfuls of gold, of course.

As the butler retreated back into the mansion, Zico bursted out laughing, the thought of increasing his riches tickling his insides.

He took a last glance at the mansion, spat on the ground, and boarded an awaiting carriage that was parked at the end of the pathway. With a signal to the driver, the horses start trotting, the wheels began to move, and they disappeared into the roaring streets.

They were just rounding the block, heading to Zico’s private bank establishment to deposit his ‘payment’ when the carriage suddenly stopped. The sudden cutoff of movement made Zico’s body lurch forward, causing his head to slam into the back of the driver’s seat. His mustache fell off from the impact, along with the signed banknote that was clutched in his hands. 

“NO!” Zico screamed, but it was all for naught. Dazed and confused, Zico hysterically tried to reach for the note but a sudden gust of wind blew it out of the carriage...

...where a metal crossbow bolt intercepted it in mid-air and shredded the parchment into worthless pieces. 

Zico cried out, clutching his heart, not even noticing the the scene in front of him: a man holding a victim hostage with a sword, surrounded by fierce individuals brandishing their own weapons, including a petite woman with mounted crossbows on her arms.

“MY MONEY!” He sobbed.