Neil knew full well how thorough Rogello would be, and despite his manner he could guess Emmaline would be far more pleased with the outcome and would likely forget about the nosiness. Neil himself was in far more danger at the moment, having crossed the bridge over into the Neuestadt district. Whilst not a true shantytown, it was the most tightly packed area in the entire city. Fully 2/3rds of the population lived in this district, Neuestadt itself barely 1/3rd of the city in terms of square mileage. Not all of it was comprised of homes, either. With various sub-districts like Handelbezirk where many stock housing and small time trading is done. Both legal and illegal, if one knew the right places to look. Neil, of course, knew where to go for some underground auctioning. 

After having passed the Reik Platz, he turned west down the street toward Westen, stopping before Leobowitz Street and turning south into a street between two larger stock houses. It was barely bigger than an alleyway, where poor immigrants, downtrodden locals, and sylvanian gypsies with their elaborate silks and fortunes plied their wares. Neil spoke to none of the above, making one final turn into a stairway that led down into a basement; dusty, dank, and dark until he made it to a large wooden door. He knocked on the wood thrice, then twice four times. The door opened almost immediately, as if it was made by a magical ward, though the potbellied bouncer was behind it with his hand on the doorknob, nodding to Neil. 

"Thank you, kind sir," Neil remarked in a jocular tone, entering the private tavern. Rapscallions filled the broad tables and low-set seats, alcohol heavy in the air. He would have stayed normally, but Neil wasn't there to party. He was there on business, and he saw the broker he had been looking for, sitting in the corner next to a one-eyed Dwarf in a corsair garb. Unlike Rogello, Haulerman in his frock coat and wrinkled cap didn't like Neil very much, but Neil trusted the man's success at procuring items of rare importance and even magical quality. Haulerman barely smiled, but he rarely gave a true frown either. Neil saw one forming when he showed his smiling face. 

"Oh, it's you." Muttered the fence, staring at Neil's insufferable, grinning visage. "Heard you were dead." 

"I was for a week, but I got bored." Neil remarked as he sat down, the table between them. The black haired Dwarf beside Haulerman snorted a greeting to the thief, but otherwise said nothing. "What I did get was a small amount of money. I'm interested to make a purchase, if you're willing to trade." 

"Only if you're willing to actually do business," Haulerman sneered. Neil smiled, knowing what the man imagined he was here for. Haulerman specialized in runic and enchanted items, and most men looking for them were rich sorcerers or thieves wanting to gain an edge in a big score. He wanted a cut in whatever job he believed Neil was about to take. Neil was going to disappoint him, and that made his night. 

"Sorry, no can-do." Neil said, crossing his trim arms. "It's just a gift." 

"A gift? What, your mother in town? No deal then." He responded. 

"It's for a girl I fancy," Neil said off-handedly. Haulerman lived up to the anachronism in his name and howled. Even the Dwarf guffawed, nearly spilling his alestein. Neil let their mirth subside, glad to be of assistance in making their night a bit better.  

"And what makes this girl so special, eh?" The seedy broker inquired, leaning forward. Neil was glad Emmaline wasn't here to smell the man's absolutely putrid breath. It made the Pickled Herring pleasant. The bits of what he hoped was some sort of cabbage in his teeth didn't make Neil's stomach any less queasy. The engineer blinked away the breath that felt like it singed his eyebrows, backing his chair up a bit. 

"She deserves something nice," He reasoned, and then paused to consider something he hadn't before. "And you know what? I fucking do too. Now are we going to get into this or should I go find Deiter Von Zacksbury?"

"That bastard doesn't have what you want, you popinjay. I do, or I did. I already sold my best ring."

"How much did you sell for?" Neil played along. 

"Ninety krowns." Haulerman said, thin lips spreading wide in a vicious smile, knowing full well Neil couldn't normally pay. Neil just smiled back. 

"That's too bad. I was going to pay a hundred for it." 
[hr]
[i]2 hours later...[/i] 

The last week, the two of them had procured around three hundred krowns in total. Which wasn't much for a duke or count, but the average skilled craftsman would be hard pressed to make that much in two and a half years, no expenses. And if they had, they wouldn't toss a quarter of it away in one night, no matter if it was to entertain Karl Franz himself. Neil treated money a bit differently. It came easy and was spent easier, and as long as he had a bit left over he was happy. Besides, his new girlfriend had gotten kidnapped and he had nearly died trying to rescue her. He was going to show her a good time. 

Rogello helped him button up the top of his dark jerkin made of arabyan satin, his finely stitched trousers of black nicely contrasted the loose fighting, longsleeve white top beneath the vest. With gold trim and a belt of leather and bronze, complete with a small tapestry of Magnus the Pious preaching on the streets of nuln along the length of it just about his waist, Neil felt like a prince. He wouldn't turn as many heads as Emmaline, but his dark features and fair skin, with an outfit that emphasized both gave him a daring look of rakish audacity. He doubted anyone back in Marienburg would recognize him. 

"Is good," Rogello congratulated him. 

"Is good?" Neil asked earnestly. 

"Si." He replied softly. "Now go to your woman." 

Emmaline had not needed to wait long in the foyer for him, Neil appearing from within the shop in his finery, giving his virgin killing grin. He lost it though when he saw her gussied up, his jaw dropping. "Gods you look amazing," he said without conscious thought. He pulled on his collar a bit, composing himself. "So, let's go out to the carriage," he said, and she would find out he wasn't lying. 

He had rented a carriage for the night.