Recudor: Repaying the debt

Sharpe finds himself at yet another intersection. In the middle of the intersection is yet more missing bricks and more of the catacombs behind it. Sharpe can see a staircase on the far end of the catacombs room leading up, likely into another section of the catacombs he had been in previously. The walls must have been knocked down for easy access, for someone to get in or out of the sewers. To the left he simply sees even more sewers and another fork up ahead. To the right... once again another intersection- This one, curiously enough though, seems to have a metal sign on the wall pointing in two different directions, though he can't make out the letters from here.

Sharpe approaches the intersection with the metal sign, even though it may not ultimately be where he wanders.

The metal sign has arrows pointing to each side of the intersection. To the left it reads Maintenence, and to the right there is some incomplete writing that has faded over the years. The writing itself is illegible but a red hand print is painted over the empty space, with the arrow pointing to the right.

He winces at the hand print, and while he can't make out the writing, that definitely looks like a mark of territory. He reaches out to touch the hand to find it's simply acrylic paint. He looks down the path the hand seems to denote, and begins walking that way, though with more caution and consideration of vectors.

Sharpe heads down the hallway. Not very far ahead of him is a wooden door with a metal frame. it looks a bit beaten up and worn down but a overall is in a lot better of a state than most of the things he's seen down here. There is a slit in the top with a metal piece blocking the view to the other side.

Sharpe can hear the voices of people talking on the other side. There seems to be quite a bit of commotion going on inside, though none of the sounds, laughs or yells coming from inside seem threatening or cautious at all.

Sharpe approaches the metal door, his stepping lightly so as not to alert those on the other side. He  carefully plants his ear to the door to try and hear what they might be saying on the other side.

The material the door is made of isn't very thick or strong, so the voices come through clear enough for sharpe to listen in on some of the conversations going on inside. There seems to be a decent collection of people in the room, possibly more in further rooms past, judging by some of the more distant commotion going on.

From what he manages to make out, the people inside are playing some sort of game. A gamble by the sounds of it. A few cheers and some hearty laughter drown out the complains of the loser of the match.
Some glasses are slammed onto tables and people chattering about all kinds of gossip, though there are so many conversations going on and people talking over one another that it's difficult to get the details.

Sharpe hears the metal of the door creaking. First surprised, as worry comes over him that someone is about to open the door, but then a conversation starts. He soon realizes that someone has leaned against the door, prohibiting someone else exit.

"Where ya going." a thug's voice asks, apparently in response to someone leaving.
A rather young man with a timid voice answers back. "I was on my way to get more of the supplies. Is there a problem?"
The thug responds with an audible scoff and seemingly moves away from the door, though not too far as his voice remains clear. "Ya right. We've had a bit of a shortage on supplies... wouldn't know anything about that?" A brief pause as the young man stutters trying to answer. "Listen, I know you have the hots for that girl but if I find out you're sneaking her rations I'll lynch you myself." the thug threatens.

There is a sigh in response, and the young man finally responds. "Hey... I may be new but I'm dedicated just like everyone else. You'll have to give me some slack lest the old man throw you into the cage with her." he says. A bold move, though it seems to have gotten the thug of that mans case. "No supply runs." he retorts and walks off. "I'll be getting them my damn self."

It must be a bunch of crims, he thinks to himself, the mention of a girl though... in a cage. It has to be her, there really is no other person it could be. He checks his pistol and makes sure it's still reachable without being conspicuous. He breathes in deep and gives three knocks on the door.

Sharpe knocks on the door, but there is no sign of a response. Just as he's about to knock again someone on the other side slides the metal piece aside and looks through the opening in the door. "What business do you have?" The man asks, and eyes down Sharpe, assessing his features and looks.

Sharpe looks the man looking through the slit in the eyes.

"My business is that of missing persons. I'm looking for a girl on the short side with red eyes, brown hair. She might have seemed real restless. Last I heard she was around here."

I might have to entice this guy.

If they try anything I'll certainly make 'em beg, and if they've done anything to her they'll plea for their lives.

"No idea. The only girls that come by here are the ones looking for money and a good time. Amirite?" The man asks and turns to look back into the room. A few guys burst out in laughter and the man turns his attention back to Sharpe. "Do you have any real business, or are ya done?"

"Ah, I see, are you quite sure however?" Sharpe asks as he takes a gold coin out and starts doing tricks with it using his hand, in full view of man.

"I'm sure we can work out some deal, am I right?" He says, grinning ever-so-slightly sinisterly.

The man watches the coin for a moment, before answering. "A moment."
He closes the slit in the door.


...


A moment later, the door opens, just enough to reveal the figure behind it. Another, older, man has taken the place of the previous guy. "Hello." the man greets Sharpe. "You have... business... with us?"

"Yes, I do. I believe you might have something that I have been searching for. You associate was quite dismissive, a real shame. May I come in?" He says, still grinning rather sinisterly. He has half a mind to detain and subdue them, though that would just put him in a very awkward position. For now he will inspect and observe their capacity.

"What is it that you are looking for?" The man asks, making no move to step out from the door or let Sharpe in. "We have a lot of unique wares and services, for the right price."

"I overheard what your buddies were saying. I believe you might have detained someone of great importance to me, and if it is indeed her, I would like to negotiate her release. I believe she might have wandered down here in search of a soul trap that belonged to her." Sharpe says, not letting his eyes off the man for even a single moment.

The man eyes Sharpe down a little, lost in thoughts for a brief moment. Having come to a decision he shakes his head at Sharpe. "We don't deal in the slave business... there is no one here that you would be interested in." he replies before staring at Sharpe in suspicion. "Is there anything else you need, or are you done here?"

"Who said I was looking for a slave?" Sharpe asks.

He scoffs.

"In any case, I figure you might have some hardware I could look at, not common what i need, maybe you got it." Perhaps this may be more plausible a reasoning. His patience is starting to tick away but he can keep it. If he really needs to, the door isn't very think at all, in fact it might as well be sheet metal.

"Hardware? So suddenly..." the man states as his suspicion of Sharpe is slowly building. "Well since you're here, who sent you down here to deal with us to begin with?" the man asks of Sharpe before waving over someone from behind him.

"I am here on my own volition." Sharpe says simply.

"Though I will say, I was referred by another friend... a certain Doctor Atrium. Perhaps you know him?" There's only so many excuses Sharpe can make at this point.

"Never heard of him. But we tend to have a broad range of customers so it's easy to lose track of names." He replies to Sharpe as another much younger man approaches the two from inside the room. "Yes?" The young man asks and glances briefly at Sharpe. 

"We have a customer, please show him the wares while I step out for a moment." 
The man then opens the door, inviting Sharpe in. "Don't mind the folks." he tells Sharpe as he comes in.

The inside of the place is a lot warmer than the murky sewers outside, and smells a little better too. The place seems to have been set up as a hideout of some sorts, with a few basic tables, chairs, and boxes scattered all throughout the somewhat large room. In the far back is a bigger round table with seven men playing cards in front of a makeshift fireplace.. They're all too concerned with their game to pay Sharpe and attention. There are two doors to the left and two doors to the right of the room, making four total.  Some are closed with wooden doors while the others simply have some cloth hanging in front of them. 

Sharpe is greeted by the younger man. In comparison to all the other people in here he seems rather out of place. He's young and his eyes speak a tale of inexperience. He directs Sharpe to the first door on the right, where another man is leaning up against the wall with his eyes closed, presumably sleeping or nodding off. He unlocks the door and the two of them step inside. "Excuse me, you're looking for hardware? Are you looking for weapons... or?" he asks Sharpe as the enter the room. It's a narrow storage room with just enough space for a bunch of boxes and shelves to line each side. The boxes are stacked in a way that they can be opened on the side without the contents falling out.

"Not a weapon per se, but ammunition." He says and reaches into his coat breast, pulling out a bullet that his heavy pistol uses.

"Got anything like this, let alone in that specific caliber?"

"I believe so" the young man replies and begins opening boxes to check. Eventually he finds the box he is looking for. "Yep... Looks like we got the type you need, although there doesn't seem to be a ton left." he explains before turning his attention back to Sharpe. "Do you want to buy these?" he asks.

Sharpe takes one of the bullets and examines it, comparing it to the cartridge he has. It checks out and he nods. He looks over to the young man again.

"Got nine? How much per round?"

"Uhh....." the guy thinks before pulling out a small notebook from his pocket and flipping through the pages. As he finally finds what he is looking for he finally answers Sharpe. "Says here 70 silver a bullet."