"Bartelomeo?" Ezio called uncertainly, taking another step into the seemingly empty office, "Are you in here?"

The Assassin waited a few moments for a reply, but sighed when none was given. He had seen the overenthusiastic mercenary just yesterday, when he had asked him for his assistance with some new weapon upgrades. Ezio had readily agreed, and they had set a date for the next afternoon; Bartelomeo's office.

But as he continued to wait for an answer to his earlier greetings, his patience began to drain. As an Assassin he didn't have much time to waste. Ezio heaved another sigh and tried again:

"Bartelomeo?" He called, somewhat louder.

Finally, he decided he would have to come back another time. But just as Ezio was about to turn on his heels, something large and blunt connected forcefully with the back of his head, sending him staggering forward into the office. Stars burst before his eyes. It was all the Assassin could do to maintain his balance as he stumbled, the dark features of the small room warping and spinning. Through the growing black splotches in his vision, he managed to grasp the corner of Bartelomeo's desk and turn to face his attacker, struggling for breath.

"Quick, Ezio!" A familiar voice urged, "What's the highest building in Florence?"

The Assassin frowned and tried to resist the all-encompassing urge to pass out as he considered the question.

"Il Duomo…?" He gasped before his golden eyes rolled upwards and he finally lost consciousness.

There was a loud thud as Ezio's body hit the floor. Bartelomeo sighed and shook his head, setting Bianca down on the desk beside the Assassin's unmoving body.

"It was a good effort, Bianca," He muttered to the sword lovingly, "But not good enough. It took him far too long to pass out, and he was still clear-headed before he did."

Bartelomeo carelessly lit a few more candles to brighten up the room as he pulled out some large sheaves of paper. After a few moments of adjusting the notes, his gaze fell on Ezio's body in distaste. The mercenary rolled his eyes and bent down, grabbing the younger man and slinging him effortlessly over his shoulder. He quickly deposited the Assassin in one of the chairs by his desk before returning to his weapons and mutterings.