Tools of the Trade

Tools Of The Trade was a virtual representation of one of Ratonhnhaké:ton's genetic memories, relived by Desmond Miles in 2012 through the Animus.

Description
Connor found Lance O'Donnell making a wooden chair, in need of assistance.

Dialogue
Connor walked up to Lance. Connor traveled to Boston and met Lance near his old shop. Connor escorted Lance to his shop. Connor and Lance arrived at the old shop and found a man sweeping outside. Connor and Lance walked to the pub. Connor and Lance tailed Patrick back to where he hid the tools. Connor and Lance opened the crate with Lance's tools.
 * Lance: I don't mean to be a bother but I wanted to ask you something. When my cart went up in flames I lost most of my tools. I've got some spares back at my shop in Boston but as you know, I'm not really welcome around there. I thought- if it wasn't too much trouble- you could help me retrieve them?
 * Connor: What would you have me do?
 * Lance: Watch my back while I gather them. Meet me in Boston at my old shop.
 * Lance: Connor! Good to see you.
 * Lance: Been trying to avoid eye contact with my old neighbors, so far so good. Not so worried now you're here.
 * Connor: How are you doing otherwise?
 * Lance: Oh, alright I suppose. Things never really go as planned...but that's life.
 * Connor: Really, how do you mean?
 * Lance: You know, you make a plan and it all goes awry and nothing gets better, only slightly different.
 * Connor: Sounds like you have had a string of misfortune. It will pass.
 * Lance: What are you doing here?
 * Shop-owner: Sweeping my steps if it please you.
 * Lance: Since when are these your steps?
 * Shop-owner: Since I bought them three weeks ago.
 * Lance: From who?
 * Shop-owner: The owner. Via his apprentice. Owner shipped off outta town, what's it to you?
 * Lance: I AM THE OWNER!
 * Shop-owner: Not anymore, mate. Sorry. Better sort things out with your apprentice. He's often at the pub over there but I'm sure you already knew that.
 * Lance: Patrick!
 * Patrick: Lance.
 * Lance: Patrick! What gave you the right to sell my shop?!
 * Patrick: Well you were run outta town. I thought you'd never come back so I sold it all- the shop, the tools. It's rough luck. Anyway, it's been great chatting but I must be off. Have a nice life.
 * Lance: What rot. Tools are a woodworker's lifeblood, he'd never sell them. I bet he's got them stashed somewhere.
 * Connor: Then we follow him.
 * Patrick: I'll load these in the cart come night fall and be in New York free of this rubbish for good before the month is out.
 * Lance: Well that's something at least. Thank you. I still can't believe he sold my shop. I'll see you back to the homestead.

Outcome
Connor helped Lance retrieve his old tools.