Despite Ratch's hopes, ammunition of any sort was not to be found here. The Valthi government was notoriously tight on how much and what it exported, and it was unlikely that anywhere other than a center of commerce and trade would stock bullets.
Knives, however, were available in almost any store he looked into, sporting provisions or weaponry. Quality ones were a different matter. Most weren't even made for combat, let alone sufficient for the gunman's standards. He did find what he was looking for at the stall the local blacksmith had set up. The sudden demand for quality weapons had been a godsend for the man, and a sizeable number of the common Doman weapons were displayed in his stall, all neatly labeled and priced, knives being 40 gil each.
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It didn't take long for Ree to spot a suitable mark. The podgy man bearing a symbol of Falis was milling around the caravan with about a dozen other assorted mercs, probably looking to buy extra healing supplies. Against his wisdom, his money pouch hung from his belt, resting against his left thigh. While it didn't look like it was about to burst, the small bag looked heavy enough to warrant a fair amount of gold.
Edited by: Jak Snide at: 9/3/03 1:49 am