Chapter Text
The next morning, Smitty wrapped himself in a few extra layers in preparation for their hike back into town.
The night had been uneventful—Droid slept like a log on the cot they'd set out for him in an empty cabin, and no other thieves attempted to sneak aboard. Admittedly, Smitty had found himself amused by how soundly Droid slept among potential enemies. He was obviously too trusting, but it was rather endearing to meet someone who had such genuine faith in other people.
It hadn't taken them long to get ready, but when Smitty stopped by the captain's quarters to grab a bit of extra coin, Kryoz stopped him. He dug a messy handful of his old trinkets out of a desk drawer to give to Smitty.
"You'll need them if you want to barter with thieves. A few extra silvers alone won't sway them," he'd said. Smitty now officially knew better than to doubt Kryoz's knowledge on anything, so he accepted them without a word and stuffed them in his pockets. They were merely some compasses and pocket watches. They weren't particularly valuable back home, so Smitty saw no need to refuse.
Once they disembarked, they started off into town.
"Kryoz said we'll want to go to your guild," Grizzy said as they walked. "Is that true? Should we try that first?"
Droid nodded. "Definitely. Blackhand is a massive thieves guild—they have eyes all over the kingdom. They even do work outside of Rosian," he said. "If there's anyone who can help us find your informant, it'll be someone from the guild."
"...Will they really help us, though?" Grizzy asked. "I don't really know anything about how guilds work, but I'm very familiar with thieves. They're not usually the generous type."
"No, they're definitely not," Droid agreed. "But at the end of the day, money is their only goal. They'll do anything or sell out anyone for the right price."
Smitty pulled one of the compasses out of his pocket. "Will things like this be enough to sway them? Kryoz seemed to think so."
Droid did a double take at the compass, seemingly surprised. He flushed. "...Uh—yeah. Yeah, that type of thing will work."
Smitty raised an eyebrow at him. "That wasn't very reassuring."
"No, it—it's not that," Droid said quickly. "It's just, uh...that's what he caught me stealing. Those compasses and stuff that you guys have. I was excited at the time—I knew it'd be enough for me to pay off my debt to the guild. So...yeah. Rest assured; those are worth a lot here."
Smitty couldn't help but laugh as he slipped the compass back in his pocket. "So he basically handed back the exact items you tried to steal. That's just like him," he said. "Try not to let it get to you. He just enjoys being difficult."
"I don't mind. I'm just glad to be alive," Droid said. "I'd like to stay that way, too, so we should probably hurry."
Grizzy chuckled. "Can't blame you. But where is Blackhand headquartered, anyway?"
"They're underground," Droid said. "Rosian has extensive underground passageways, stretching from one end of the kingdom to the other. They were originally built to function as shelter for the common folk during the war, but since the war ended over a decade ago, Blackhand took them over."
"The war, huh?" Smitty murmured. "I'm pretty sure that war is why Kryoz left."
"I'm not surprised. A lot of people fled during the war," Droid said. "I wasn't old enough, though, so I was stuck here."
"Is that how you ended up getting tangled with Blackhand?" Grizzy asked.
Droid nodded. "It is. I needed money to survive, after all, and I've never had a family. Hell, most poor kids haven't—all because of the war. We didn't really have another choice."
"...I'm sorry to hear that," Smitty said, but Droid dismissed him with a wave of his hand.
"Don't worry about it. I was lucky—one of Blackhand's medics took me in. He basically raised me through my teens. I may not have a real family, but he's always been like my brother. That's enough for me."
Smitty hummed. "I completely understand. When I was a kid, Blarg always felt like my only real family, too."
"...You guys are making me feel guilty for leaving my family behind," Grizzy said, and Smitty and Droid both laughed.
"Sorry," Droid said. "It's just how life is here. And when we make it down into the the tunnels, we're going to encounter a pretty significant number of child beggars who are stuck down there. It'll be hard, but you'll have to ignore them. You'll run out of money and supplies in a few minutes if you try to help them."
He stopped to open the door of a pub. He held it open for the other two, and they walked inside.
"Are there really that many orphans in Rosian?" Smitty asked.
Droid whistled. "Oh, yeah. With all the dead soldiers, countless numbers of kids were left out on the streets with no family and nowhere to go. The kingdom is dirt poor now, too, so there's nothing anyone can do to help them. That's why almost all of the kids end up hanging around Blackhand. It's their only hope of survival."
He led them through a back door of the cramped, dirty pub. The pine wooden floors were moldy and unstable. The stone walls weren't well insulated, allowing too much cold air to seep in through the cracks. The pale, sickly-looking barkeep hadn't even given them a second glance as they passed by. Even the fire in the firepit burned on its last embers like a wilted flower in the breeze—this seemed to be an especially poor part of the kingdom.
The back door led to a musty storage room that reeked of both mold and urine. It was rather disgusting to think of the number of shitfaced men who stumbled around in here. Droid wasn't fazed—he walked right over and grabbed the handle of a trap door, heaving it open to reveal a dusty stone staircase below.
"Here's one of the entrances to the tunnels," Droid said. "This is the one I usually use, since people tend to avoid this pub, for obvious reasons. I run into less trouble coming this way."
Smitty fanned a hand in front of his nose. "I'm going to assume the smell will only get worse the further down we venture."
"Yeah. Sorry," Droid said. He grabbed a nearby lantern off a storage crate. "Try to avoid breathing through your nose, and stay away from any particularly damp spots. Let's go—we don't want to spend too much time down here."
They walked down they old stone staircase into the tunnels. They had no light aside from the dim glow of Droid's lantern; the furthest any of them could see ahead was only about twenty feet. The cracked stone walls and ceiling were cramped—tight and suffocating, like the inside of a coffin. The air was stale with a moist, sour odor, and each of their footsteps echoed through the tunnels. It was an eerie walk.
Droid guided them confidently, pointing out scratch marks and arrows etched into the ceiling. His calm demeanor was reassuring for the other two, who had initially felt uneasy about traveling through such cramped, dark tunnels.
Eventually, after what felt like hours of weaving through a labyrinth, they came upon a wooden door. Droid grabbed the handle and pulled it open.
"Here we are. Welcome to Blackhand—if anyone tries to talk you into something, ignore them."
They stepped into a vast open chamber that was set up like a gathering hall. Wooden tables and chairs scatted the floor, and merchant counters stood in sparse numbers near the walls. Torches lined the walls, while lanterns sat on the tables and counters. One counter across the space appeared to be a bar.
But the starkest aspect of the chamber was how utterly packed it was.
Blackhand members were everywhere. They sat drinking at the tables, conversing loudly, and every merchant counter was busy. Children no older than fourteen were helping serve the thieves at the tables their alcohol. Others sat against the walls, seemingly waiting for work or mercy. It was loud, the air was heavy, and it smelled rancid. The entire chamber was terribly overstimulating.
"God. It's worse than I thought," Grizzy mumbled.
Droid patted his shoulder once. "We shouldn't be down here too long. I know someone who might be able to help us."
"Will you even be able to find him in all these people?" Smitty asked.
Droid smiled. "Oh, he's always in the same spot. C'mon. Let's get to the bar."
Droid led them into the busy chamber, and they maneuvered their way through the tables and drunk thieves. Smitty kept his hands firmly in his pockets to ensure no Blackhand members tried to swipe something in the chaos.
They elbowed their way to the bar at the other end, which had a line of stools in front of it. Droid walked right over to a man at the end of the bar and stopped beside him. He had long, stringy blond hair and a rough beard.
"Hey, Soup," Droid greeted, and the man looked up and grinned.
"Droid!" he said, punching him lightly in the arm. "You made it back. You've been gone so long that I thought you got caught again." His words were slightly slurred.
"Well, I kinda did get caught," Droid admitted. "But I got pretty lucky. These guys let me live in exchange for finding someone."
He motioned to Grizzy and Smitty, and Soup looked back at them. "Pirates, huh? You two must be pretty miserable down here right now."
"Can't say I'm having too much fun," Smitty agreed. "But we don't have a choice. We're looking for someone, and it's urgent. Think you could help us?"
Soup considered this for a second. "...I might be able to," he said. "But favors don't put food on the table, you know."
Smitty pulled a pocket watch from his coat and held it up. "This is from our continent, and I've got plenty. You'll be generously rewarded for any help you can give us." He handed the pocket watch to Soup, who accepted and examined it.
He brushed his thumb over the metal. "Hm. This is copper—that's a rare metal around here. You guys must be from pretty far if you're handing this over like it's nothing," he said, before he slipped the watch into his pant pocket. "Alright. Is the guy you're looking for also from your continent?"
Smitty nodded. "He's a foreigner as well. He's my informant; he should've arrived here about a month ago."
"Informant, huh? Has he got any information he's hiding with him?" Soup said.
"Yes, he does. I gave him a generous amount of money when he left; he'd definitely have a lot of gold coins on him, since that's our main currency back home. He's also waiting for me, so I imagine he wouldn't have gone too far from the port."
Soup nodded and pushed his mug of alcohol away from him. "Alright. I should have reports of him somewhere, then. Foreigners stick out pretty good around here." He stood up from his stool. "Follow me."
He started walking to their left, so the other three followed. Smitty stepped beside Droid to talk to him.
"Your friend doesn't seem like a regular thief," Smitty murmured, low enough for only Droid to hear. Soup was certainly an odd one—he had the appearance of a haggard drunk, like most of the other Blackhand members around them, but his eyes were far too alert for a drunkard.
"He's definitely not," Droid said. "He might not look it, but he's the head of Blackhand's information network. He knows everything that goes on in this kingdom. He'll also give any information away for the right amount of money. If there's one person who can help you find your informant, it's him."
Smitty nodded, giving Droid a thoughtful once-over. Kryoz's assessment of him seemed to be spot on; he truly did have an impressive ability to make friends and find allies. Information was one of the most powerful weapons in the world, so for Droid to befriend his kingdom's greatest source of it...that brought him an unfathomable advantage.
Smitty's mind was officially made up. I'm keeping him.
Soup led them to a door on the left side of the chamber. He pulled a key off a chain around his neck and unlocked it, then deftly slipped the key into his shirt pocket. He pushed the door open and held it for them—once they were inside, he closed it, ensuring no one else slipped in with them.
The room they'd stepped into was a small, makeshift office space. It had an old wooden desk and a few bookshelves against the walls, but they were mostly empty. Smitty suddenly found himself feeling slightly paranoid. Had Droid brought them here to kill them? If he had, he'd done a remarkably impeccable job hiding his intentions. Smitty hadn't suspected him for a second.
"Wait here," Soup said. He walked over to a bookshelf on the right wall and grabbed the side of it, then pulled it open like a door, revealing another room. But before Smitty could get a decent look inside, Soup walked in and shut the door behind him.
Smitty relaxed a bit. "A hidden vault, huh? I'm impressed," he murmured.
Droid nodded. "That's where he keeps all his written information. I've been in there a few times—there are more books than you'd ever believe. That vault holds enough secrets to tear the entire kingdom in half."
Smitty hummed. Shame we don't have someone like him on our continent, he thought. He'd definitely have to keep Soup in mind, just in case they ever had to come back to Rosian. He was a good connection to have.
Smitty leaned against the desk to wait. "I have to say, Droid, you made me nervous for a moment there. I thought you'd brought us back here to kill us."
"Yeah, I kinda thought the same thing," Grizzy said. "At least it wasn't just me."
Droid blinked. "Really?" he asked, then he thought about it. "Oh, right...well, I can't blame you. But I really did bring you to Soup to help. Besides, I'm kinda scared of the two guys back on your ship, anyway."
Smitty chuckled. "You've got good intuition, then. Those two could probably take the entire castle down together if they felt like it. Of course, Blarg wouldn't hurt you unless he had to, but John? You don't want to catch him in one of his moods. He can get a little trigger happy."
"You're one to talk," Grizzy muttered under his breath.
Smitty shot him a look. "What was that?"
Grizzy put his hands up. "Nothing, nothing," he quickly said. "Just talking to myself."
Droid smiled softly. "You guys are funny. You aren't anything like normal pirates," he said.
"No, I suppose we're not," Smitty agreed. "But that's what'll make us successful. And you'll be a very useful addition, by the way."
"...You really want me to be a pirate? I don't know if you remember, but I'm not particularly good at much," Droid said. He looked skeptical.
"I don't care. I've already decided," Smitty said. "Besides, do you really want to stay here? If you do, you'll be in debt to the guild for the rest of your life, or you'll die to the next people who catch you stealing."
Droid shifted in place. "It really does suck being a thief..." he murmured. "But if I'm honest, being a pirate doesn't seem much better."
"It kinda isn't," Grizzy bluntly agreed. Smitty glared at him to shut him up.
"For a normal pirate, I would agree, it's hardly different from being a common thief," Smitty said. "But we're not normal pirates. I made sure of that."
Droid eyed him warily. "...Kryoz warned me about you. You're just like he said you'd be."
Smitty smiled. "Well, he's a bit biased. But it's in your best interest to join us—you know it is. You've been on our ship."
Still, Droid hesitated. Smitty found it odd; he'd figured Droid would be much easier to convince.
"There must be a reason you're hesitating," Smitty murmured. "Is there a person you're reluctant to leave?"
Droid nodded slowly. "...Yeah. I told you about my friend earlier," he admitted. "He basically raised me—he's the closest I've ever gotten to family, so...I can't leave him here."
Smitty hummed, recalling what Droid had said to him earlier. "The medic, right?" he asked, and Droid nodded again.
"We could use a medic," Grizzy said. "I don't think any of us have any real medical expertise. Having an actual medic could potentially save one of our lives."
Smitty nodded. "True. I know Matt has some basic knowledge from his military service, but that wouldn't be enough in the case of a serious injury. It certainly would help to have a real medic." He glanced at Droid. "What do you think, Droid? If I convinced your friend to join as well, would you come with us?"
Droid shifted, unsure. "Well...he has a pretty safe job...I don't think I could ask him to give that up to be a pirate."
Grizzy shuffled over to Droid's side. He leaned close to whisper to him. "You really should just agree. He'll start threatening to kill people you care about if you don't."
"Grizzy," Smitty warned.
"He deserves to know!" Grizzy defended himself. "I can tell you're starting to think about it."
"No, I'm not," Smitty said, but Droid was already eyeing him nervously. Smitty exhaled a frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Droid. I'm not going to threaten you or kill anyone, alright? Just—let us talk to this guy. He can decide for himself."
"...I guess," Droid hesitantly agreed. "If he's okay with it, then yeah, I'd join you guys. He's the only reason I have to stay in this shitty kingdom."
"Good, then." Smitty exhaled a relieved breath. "We'll go speak with him next. What's his name?"
"He goes by Pezzy," Droid said. "He's the best medic Blackhand's got. He taught me some of what he knows too. Originally, I wanted to learn from him and become a medic with him, but...I'm not very good with blood," he sheepishly admitted.
"Is he self-taught?" Smitty asked.
"Yes and no. His mother was an army medic, so he learned from her growing up. But she and his dad both died in the war. He taught himself everything he could from his mom's books and notes and ended up in Blackhand, like most orphans after the war."
"And you two met here?" Grizzy asked.
Droid nodded. "Yeah. I, uh...I tried to steal some of his medical equipment for money. Obviously, he caught me, but he took pity on me since I was just a kid. He's been looking out for me ever since."
Smitty hummed. "An orphan who taught himself medicine to survive...and raised a kid while he was at it," he mused. "I'm impressed. We could definitely use someone like that. How likely is he to agree to be a pirate?"
"...I can't say," Droid said. "He's got himself a pretty good gig, being a medic for Blackhand. He makes decent money."
"Well, that definitely won't be an issue, then," Smitty said. "I could give him double his average annual salary today."
Droid gave him a surprised look. "You're that rich?"
Smitty smirked, feeling smug. "Kryoz and I together are rich enough to buy half this country. And our assets are shared, so either of us can utilize the full extent of each other's estates whenever."
Droid eyed him warily. "You two scare me."
"You haven't seen the half of it," Grizzy spoke up. "Did you know they skinned my boss alive?"
"They did what?" Droid asked, snapping to look at him in disbelief. "That's insane!"
"Thank you! The three of them have been acting like it's completely normal. I started thinking I was the insane one." Grizzy walked over and placed his hands on Droid's shoulders. "Droid, you have to join us. You can't leave me alone with these psychos."
Droid patted his hand in solidarity. "I'm praying for you, man."
Smitty just rolled his eyes at their dramatic display. He didn't think he was that bad.
The moment was broken up as the bookshelf re-opened. Soup stepped back into the small office, holding a few sheets of paper. The bookshelf door shut behind him.
"Alright, I'm pretty sure I've got your guy," Soup said. "These are reports of a man who arrived here about a month ago. Obvious foreigner, based on his clothing and speech patterns. Last sighting of him was at a shady inn further inland. He's probably been staying there since he got here."
Soup handed the papers to Smitty. The top had a small, messy sketch in the bottom corner of the man—Smitty knew at a glance that it was his informant. That was definitely Anthony.
"Look right?" Soup asked.
"Dead on," Smitty said, pleased. "This is definitely him."
"Good. Everything you'll need to find him is in those documents," Soup said. "With Droid's help, you'll be talking to him by sunset at the latest."
Smitty nodded with a smile. "Thank you. I'm very impressed," he said. He reached into his pocket and grabbed a few pocket watches. "Here. Think this'll be enough for you?"
Soup took them. "More than enough," he said. "Good doing business with you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a drink to finish." He slipped the watches into his pocket with deft fingers and strode out of the room.
Once Soup was gone, Smitty began scanning the documents for information. The writing on the paper was scattered—messy, quick notes jotted down after passing observations and interactions. It seemed as though someone had made it a point to watch Anthony and jot down information about him, with the sole goal of handing it all over to Soup. Was that how Soup's extensive network functioned? The people living in poverty would record every bit of information they could find about people and sell it to Soup for money? What an impressively effective system. Smitty had no doubt that the information in that vault truly could tear the kingdom apart.
Once he finished reading all the information scrawled on the papers, he folded them up and placed them in his pocket. "We've officially got our man," Smitty said. "I'm very impressed. Soup is unbelievably powerful in this kingdom."
"Sure seems like it. I'm surprised you're not set on making him join us, too," Grizzy said.
"Trust me, I considered it," Smitty said. "But pulling him out of the kingdom would make this intricate system of his fall to pieces. He needs to stay here, where he can keep spinning his web of secrets. I'm not foolish enough to try and pry him out. But rest assured, should we ever return to this kingdom, he's the first man we'll visit." He looked at Droid. "You are very smart for making friends with him. He was exactly the person we needed to meet."
Droid smiled, looking bashful. "Well, y'know. I was never a very good thief, so I needed to find easy targets somehow. And it wasn't like I could afford to pay for his information."
"John was right about you," Smitty murmured, pleased. "I can't wait to have you onboard. You're going to make intel gathering much easier for us."
Droid smile wavered in obvious unease. "You know, it doesn't sound like I have much of a choice when you say that."
"You have a choice," Smitty said. "I'm just already certain you'll make the right one."
Droid looked at Grizzy, who gave him a pitying look. "Sorry, man. That translates to I've already decided for you in manipulator-ese."
Smitty rolled his eyes. "Do you have to scare him like that, Grizzy?"
"Yeah, since you didn't deny my translation," Grizzy said.
"Whatever," Smitty grumbled. "Let's go, you two. We need to go find my informant before we can do anything else. Droid, I'm relying on you to take us to him."
"Well, alright, since it seems like I'm already in this," Droid said. "Where is he?"
"He's staying in a place called Rosey Inn, apparently," Smitty said. Saying the name out loud made him want to groan at the dumb word play. "Ugh—real creative name."
Droid laughed. "Yeah, everyone says that. I know exactly where that is. It's well-known purely because of the name," he said. "It won't take us too long to walk there. Let's get out of these tunnels."
———
It took them about a half hour to get to the inn.
The temperature had dropped even further, but the cold breeze felt like heaven compared to the hot, damp and rancid air of Blackhand's main hall.
The inn was also in the poorer part of the kingdom, but it was on the opposite side from the tavern they'd entered the tunnels in. Droid guided them on an elaborate and confusing path through alleys and back roads. He was obviously deeply familiar with the layout of the kingdom—if they'd had to navigate without him, it would've taken them at least an hour.
Once they finally made it to the shabby little inn, tucked between two abandoned shops, they headed inside through the creaky wooden door. The interior of the inn wasn't much better than any of the other buildings they'd entered. The air was damp, the floor was musty, and it wasn't much warmer than it'd been outside.
But luckily, they didn't have to worry about asking around to find Smitty's informant. Anthony was sitting right at the inn counter and drinking. Smitty thanked his lucky stars and walked over to talk to him.
"Anthony," he greeted, and the man turned to look at him.
"Smitty!" Anthony said, words slightly slurred. "You actually made it."
"So did you, I see. I hope the voyage treated you well."
Anthony shrugged. "About as well as a month-long journey by ship could," he said. "Since you're here, I assume that means you successfully roped that poor bastard into joining you?"
"Of course I did; he's on the ship. And he's much less angry about it than he was in the beginning."
"Yeah, yeah. Good for you," Anthony said, before his gaze shifted to Grizzy and Droid. "I see you also managed to drag in a few other unsuspecting victims in the meantime."
Smitty rolled his eyes. "Oh, stop acting like I kidnapped them. They've all joined me willingly."
"Well, actually—" Grizzy started, but Smitty immediately cut him off.
"It was their own choice to join me," he said.
Grizzy grumbled something under his breath in displeasure, but he didn't say anything else.
Anthony chuckled. "You're really something else, Smitty," he said, before he stood up. "Well, since you're here, I'll guess you want to get rid of the documents I have."
"Very much so, yes," Smitty said.
"Then, let's go."
Anthony led them down a cramped hallway with two rooms, then up a staircase to his room near the stairs. Inside, he pulled a small safe out of a drawer, unlocked it, and handed the open safe to Smitty. Smitty accepted it, pulling the documents out of the safe to make sure they were all there.
"That's everything you gave me. Haven't opened the safe once since I got here," Anthony said.
Smitty nodded and pulled all the documents from the safe. He handed the empty container back to Anthony.
"Perfect," Smitty said. "I'll just burn these, and then we're done here. Thank you, Anthony."
"Sure," Anthony said. "I did all of it on your dime, so I can't say I minded it. I will be very glad to get back to our continent, though. I'm not a fan of the cold."
"Neither am I. It'll be very nice to get back to our weather," Smitty said. "Do you need any help getting home?"
"Nah, I've got it sorted out. Already paid a sailor to take me back at the end of the week. And I'm bringing home a bunch of stuff to sell and earn a killing."
Smitty chuckled. "Smart choice," he said. "I'll be in touch if I need you to do something again. Have a safe trip home."
"You too. Try not to get killed by any of the people you blackmail."'
"Oh, you know I won't," Smitty said, before he turned to Droid and Grizzy. "C'mon you two. The faster we finish up, the faster we can finally get out of the cold."
He walked back out of Anthony's room, and the other two followed. Grizzy looked baffled.
"That was it?" Grizzy asked, as they walked down the stairs. "We sailed an entire month just so you could burn a few pages?"
"Yes," Smitty said. "It was how I convinced Kryoz to join me. I'd have been a fool to fake my blackmail against one of the most feared assassins on our continent. It had to be real."
"This is a lot of trouble to go through for one guy," Grizzy responded.
"Maybe so. But he's proven to be more than worth the work," Smitty said. He pulled open the inn door and led the other two outside. "Speaking of which, I'm interested in seeing if this friend of yours is too, Droid. I'd like to meet him."
Droid averted eye contact, looking unsure. "...I don't know, Smitty. He doesn't trust pirates, and you scare me."
His blunt honesty almost made Smitty laugh. Usually, people didn't tell him they were scared of him straight to his face, even if it was true.
"I promise I won't do anything to hurt your friend, alright?" Smitty said. "I just want to give him a little...test. See if he's as good as you say he is."
Droid was obviously distrustful. "Test?"
"Yes," Smitty said. He handed the stack of papers to Grizzy, then he rolled his right sleeve up to his elbow. He held his arm out to Droid. "Cut me."
Droid glanced between his outstretched arm and his face a few times, clearly baffled. "What? Why the hell would I do that?"
"Well, you friend's a medic, isn't he? If I want to test him, I need a wound for him to treat. I'll give you the honor of slashing me. Will that make you feel better?"
Grizzy eyed Smitty in suspicion. "You're really going to let him cut you?"
"I'm sure as hell not letting you do it. You'd slice my arm clean off," Smitty said. He pulled his knife from his belt and presented the blade to Droid. "Well, Droid? What do you say?"
Droid hesitated, obviously conflicted, before he finally took the knife. "...Well, I guess it's a fair enough trade-off. But you won't like, cut me back in revenge, will you?"
Smitty chuckled. "No, I won't. I'm feeling generous today. You get this one consequence-free."
"You're crazy, but alright," Droid relented. "Keep your arm still. I'll try not to make it hurt too much."
Smitty nodded, bracing himself for the slash.
Droid still seemed hesitant. He stared at Smitty's arm for a few seconds, psyching himself up, before he finally thought fuck it. He slashed the blade across the center of Smitty's forearm, cutting a thin line through his skin. Blood immediately began trickling from the wound.
Smitty managed to keep himself composed for all of two seconds before deciding that acting nonchalant wasn't worth it. He cradled his injured arm with a hiss and blew on it.
"Ow, fucking shit, that hurts a lot more than I was expecting," he cursed, continuing to blow on it. Droid hadn't cut him very deep, but it still stung like a bitch.
Droid shifted nervously in place. "Sorry. Was that too much?"
"No, you did fine. I'm just a total wuss about pain," Smitty said. "God, why the hell did I think that was a good idea? It was not worth it."
Smitty then noticed that Grizzy was obviously smiling, seemingly enjoying his pain. He glared at him. "What are you so happy about?"
Grizzy shrugged, still smiling. "It's nice to have confirmation that you are actually human, for once."
"You little—" Smitty began to snap, before he just clicked his tongue in annoyance and looked back at the fresh cut on his arm. "Whatever. Fine. Enjoy the moment while it lasts. Next time, you're the one getting your arm slashed."
He fanned the cut for a few more seconds, trying to ease the sting. Finally, he just exhaled and dropped his arm back to his side. "Alright, well, that'll do," Smitty said. "Now, Droid, where's this friend of yours?"
"...He's likely in his clinic," Droid said. "I can take you to him. But please don't try to scare or intimidate him."
"I promised you I would only test him. I'm not going to do anything out of line," Smitty assured him. "I truly do want a medic for our crew. And if he's as good as you say he is, I want him to join us willingly, so he'll want to help us of his own accord."
That finally seemed to be enough to reassure Droid. "...Okay," he relented. "This might be stupid, but I trust you. I'll bring you to his clinic."
Smitty smiled and patted his arm. "Good, then. Let's get going. I'm ready to get out of the cold."
———
Pezzy's clinic ended up being a small, one-room building tucked in a thin alleyway.
It was near one of the main entrances to the tunnels and Blackhand, so thieves in the guild had easy access to the clinic when necessary. The walk hadn't taken long, and on the way, they passed a group of people burning a small fire outside of a tavern. Smitty offered the documents as more kindling. He ripped them up and tossed them in flames, burning the only collection of physical evidence on Kryoz's ties to this kingdom. The only thing left to do was head home—hopefully, with two new crewmates in tow.
Droid was still a little nervous, but he brought them to Pezzy's door like he said he would. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before finally knocking and pulling it open for them.
Pezzy was sitting at his desk against the back wall when they entered, writing something down in a book. He turned to face them when the door opened. He wore a simple, clean black outfit and kept his short hair out of his face with a white bandana.
"Hey, Pezzy," Droid greeted, shuffling into the clinic. He tugged Smitty forward to point out the small wound on his arm. "He's hurt. Can you help him?"
Pezzy glanced at the wound. Then, his eyes shifted between Grizzy and Smitty, before landing on Droid for a brief, near imperceptible second. He turned to his supplies on the table beside him just as quickly.
"Of course I can help. It's my job, after all," he said. "Come sit down."
Smitty did. He sat down on the edge of the bed and presented his injured arm to Pezzy. "Sorry to be a bother. I hope I didn't interrupt any important work of yours."
"No, you didn't. Besides, I'm always here to help."
Pezzy grabbed his forearm with light, deft hands to examine the injury. It was small; hardly much deeper than a scratch, and not a wound that would require stitches. It was a trivial injury. One that, perhaps to Pezzy, Smitty had bullied Droid into seeking treatment for.
Still, Pezzy kept a calm, professional demeanor. He rinsed the wound with clean water and carefully dabbed the dry blood away with a fresh towel. Once the excess blood was washed off, he examined the depth of cut.
"It looks like it only cut through the second layer of skin. It'll probably scar, but you won't need stitches. I'll bandage it." Pezzy released his arm and turned to find a bandage in his supplies. He opened up a desk drawer, movements casual.
Then, he grabbed a revolver and whipped around to point it square at Smitty's face.
Grizzy and Droid both startled behind them, but Smitty merely smiled and held a hand up to keep them from intervening.
Pezzy narrowed his eyes at him. "I've got a gun pointed at your nose. What are you smiling about?"
"I'm just impressed," Smitty said. "You can relax. I'm not here to hurt you, and I didn't hurt Droid."
"I don't believe you," Pezzy said. He didn't lower the gun. "You're obviously a pirate."
"Yes, I am," Smitty easily agreed. "You're impressively perceptive. You recognized Droid's anxiety in a single glance, realized he might be in danger, and created an opening to get the upper hand against us—all while impeccably caring for my wound."
Pezzy's glare eased. He seemed more confused than anything. "What's that supposed to mean? Were you—testing me?"
Smitty nodded with a smile. "Of course. And I have to say, you really exceeded my expectations."
Pezzy looked to Droid, who gave him a smile as well. "It's true. He let me give him that injury to make it even," he said.
Pezzy blinked, now officially baffled, before he finally lowered the gun. "...Well, I'm glad they haven't done anything to you," he murmured. "But why are you helping them go through all this trouble to test me like this? How did you even get associated with them anyway?"
Droid's smile turned sheepish at the question. "Well...it's kind of a long story," he admitted. He glanced at Smitty and Grizzy. "Can you guys wait outside? I think it's probably best if I talk to him alone."
Smitty nodded and stood. "Sure. Take your time—we'll be waiting outside." He patted Grizzy's shoulder as he passed, bringing the man outside with him. They shut the door behind them and left Droid and Pezzy to talk in peace.
Once they were gone, Droid went over and sat on the edge of the bed.
Pezzy immediately began examining him, just to be safe, and Droid smiled.
"I'm really okay. They've actually been good to me," Droid said.
Pezzy's brow furrowed. He didn't look reassured. "They're pirates, Droid. If they're nice to you, it's because they want something. You know that."
"Well, yes. But I already know what they want."
"And what's that?"
"They want me to join their crew."
Pezzy paused for a moment, stunned. "What? They want you to join them?"
Droid nodded. "I, uh...I tried to rob their ship, but I got caught right away. The pirate who caught me didn't hurt me, though. He said I'd make a much better pirate than a thief. And...the rest of them agreed."
Pezzy glared at him. "Droid, how many times have I told you not to steal from pirate ships? You could have died."
"I know, I know! But—I was a little desperate. My debt's only getting worse, and the jobs the guild gives me aren't nearly enough. It's not going to get better for me, Pezzy. At this rate, I'll be indebted to Blackhand forever, and my next job might really be my last."
"But—you know you can't..." Pezzy began to stay, before trailing off into a quiet, resigned sigh. "Do you...do you really want to be a pirate, Droid?"
"Well...I can't say I love the idea of piracy," Droid admitted. "But I like these guys. They're capable, and they follow through with their promises. They have money, too. So much money. And maybe it's greedy of me, but I don't want to be a poor thief in this dying kingdom for the rest of my life. I want my work to mean something, you know? I'm tired of every cent I make going straight back to Blackhand."
Pezzy's eyes softened. "...I know you are, Droid," he murmured. "Then...you're really going to go with them?"
Droid hesitated. "...I do want to," he said quietly. "But I can't leave you here. It's not worth it if I leave you behind."
Pezzy remained quiet. He seemed to know what Droid was getting at.
"I know you don't really like pirates," Droid continued. "But—you'd make a really good one. And they want you."
Pezzy took a few moments to think. He looked conflicted. "...Will you still go with them if I don't?"
Droid immediately shook his head. "I won't," he said. "I want to get out of this shitty kingdom, but not if it means leaving you here alone. If you don't want to go, we won't go."
Pezzy took a deep, exhausted breath. He glanced around the room, taking in the tiny office he'd slaved in to make as good a life as he could for him and Droid over the past ten years. Still, the stone walls were full of mold, and they weren't well insulated enough to keep the cold out. A dry, sour odor hung in the air, a smell that never faded no matter how much he cleaned. He made decent money, but...it still wasn't enough to free Droid of his debt and let him quit working for Blackhand. It never would be.
Pezzy placed a hand on Droid's knee and squeezed it. "...You're sure they have a lot of money?" he finally asked.
"So much," Droid said. "The trinkets they had sitting in one drawer were worth enough money to buy us a house and pay off my debt for good. And that wasn't even their actual money."
Pezzy gave him a small, weak smile. "And they really want us both?"
Droid nodded, smiling as well. "They really do."
Pezzy squeezed Droid's knee one last time before retracting his hand. "...Alright," he finally agreed. "If it means we can escape Blackhand and this shitty kingdom, then it's worth a shot."
Droid's smile brightened. "Really?"
Pezzy nodded with a fond smile. "I don't exactly love being a doctor for a bunch of dirty, rotten thieves," he said. "I'd be an idiot to let this opportunity pass us by. Help me pack up my most important tools, and then...we'll go be pirates."
Droid jumped up excitedly. "Thank you, Pezzy. God, I'm so excited to get the hell away from Blackhand."
"Trust me, so am I," Pezzy said. "Now c'mon. The longer we take, the longer it'll be until we leave."
"Right, right. Tell me the tools you need," Droid said, rushing right over to the desk.
Together, they packed up Pezzy's tools from his small, dirty clinic, talking and laughing the whole way.
Smitty just leaned against the door outside and listened with a tiny, fond smile. He knew he made the right choice with the two of them. With six extremely capable and loyal pirates, they would be a fearsome crew in the years to come.
And hey, maybe one day, they'd even find one more.