The day had been a long and hot one, but the days were always hot in Ul'dah and typically there is only a few ways to avoid that kind of heat, find a hole and bury yourself in it.
Benedict lifted his head from the bar where he found himself and smiled at the glass of bourbon already in his hand, equally thankful for the drink as he was the shade the dive bar provided. He looked around for a moment, not entirely sure how he got here or even what the name of the place was, but that happened sometimes with him. The room was dark, lit only by the stunted light coming through two windows near the door, both had a dingy yellow cloth draped in front of them to block out the light as best they could. The wall and floors were that split and dried grey wood you saw shacks built out of scattered throughout the Thanalan wastes. There was one other patron in the corner of the room, sprawled out in an old chair with his legs stretched out as far as they could under the rough cut and beat up table while his head was tossed back as far as his neck would allow and a sound like a stone mill came from his open gullet. Ben smirked at himself, "Ive been there more times than I could count," he thought to himself. As he brought his attention back to the bar an old grizzled Roegadyn came from the back storage area with a look on his face like Ben owed him money, "Ready to be settlin' up?" he asked.
"Shit, I guess I do owe him money," Ben thought as he smiled at the man and checked is gil pouch, counting the few coins that remained, knowing there was not even enough to cover the bourbon that he hastily finished as he looked back up to the barkeep. "Uhhh . . . How much is the tab?"
The older man stood close to a good foot over Ben and leaned over the bar as he watched him count his gil, "I hopin' ya got a secret stash in ya boot or somethin', the tab is 200."
Now, had he found himself in this situation at any other point in his life, he would have just run out the door and be gone long before the larger man could clear the bar, but . . . things were different now and he was trying to stick to a new path. A path that didn't really condone fleeing into wastes to skip out on a bar tab. His hand went reflexively to his mess of hair and began an assault on the back of his head as he looked at the Roegadyn with an expression somewhere between, "I'm sorry" and "This is going to hurt, huh?"
The barkeep reached below the bar and pulled out a healthy sized club, certainly notable as the man stood near seven fulms tall and was at least double Benedict's weight. Ben closed his eyes, ready to take the beating he knew was coming, when a voice rang near the front door, "I'll pay his tab."
The look on the barkeep's face as well as Ben's must have been a priceless image in raw confusion as the both strained their eyes to adjust to the light of the open door and the silhouette of person standing there. The man in the doorway took a few steps into the building, heavy well shod boots leading the way and leaving a distinctive deep echo in their wake. He was a highlander, somewhere between the height of Benedict and the club wielding barkeep, with broad shoulders and dressed in the kind of finery one might see at the VIP tables of the Golden Saucer. Ben looked at the man still slightly confused but now for reasons completely beyond his current predicament, "Aladon?"
The highlander smiled and tossed a small bag of gil onto the bar, and as it landed and let out a rich jingle of coin against coin, the barkeep smiled and put his club back behind the bar, "That'll do, alright," he said as he hastily scooped up the small bag.
Aladon took a few more steps towards Ben and smiled a grin that could only spell trouble for Ben, "Seems you owe me, no?"
Ben all of a sudden felt like he needed another drink, not entirely unexpected as he typically felt that way in some capacity, but this had everything to do with Aladon's grin and less to do with his own issues that he was constantly trying to drown. "I owe you the cost of the tab, that's it," he said as he began to make his way past the finely dressed man.
Aladon gave a sharp and high pitch whistle, a sound Ben could never stand to begin with, but experience had made things far worse as he knew exactly what Aladon had just done with that shrill call. Some short distance away there would be armed men ready to converge on the place if there was a second call. These men didn't care for lives or honor, only the blood stained gil that Aladon would pay them. Sure, there were only two others in here besides himself, but the last thing he needed was two more bodies to atone for because he acted hastily. Benedict stopped in his tracks, "How many did you bring, Aladon? You sure you want to waste that much money, that many men?," he asked with a flat and even tone, as he attempted to display the confidence of his past self. He knew his bluff had been called when the next sound he heard was the deep laughter coming from the man.
"That was worth this whole trip," still laughing, Aladon leaned on the bar to address the Roegadyn, "Whatever he was just drinking, he always had a nose for the best swill in whatever hole he found himself in. No offense there, barkeep," he finished his laugh while tossing a few more gil the barkeep's way.
Once the older man poured the drink and handed it off he collected the gil and quickly found himself on the other end of the bar, busying himself with some senseless cleaning. There was something overly dangerous about these two men and he had decided that he wanted no part in whatever their business was.
Aladon took a sip of the bourbon and nodded, "See, not bad, all things considered . . ." He turned back towards Benedict who still stood frozen in place in the middle of the room and began a slow clap. "That was perfect. I mean, really . . . I wasn't sure if you were going to try that line, but I was so hoping."
Ben stood there, trying to still the blood that raced through his body and the sound of his own heart that pounded in his head like the jungle drums of some of the miqo'te tribes. He held his fists at his side, clenched so tight that his knuckles were a line of pure white. He spoke through his locked jaw, "What do you want?"
The well dressed man moved from the bar as he continued to sip his drink at a casual pace, and came to stand next to Benedict, "You, of course. Why else would I even come anywhere near this deathtrap? You know, I heard rumors that you had given up fighting, and I truly didn't believe it until I saw you in here with no weapon in sight, that I thought maybe the rumors were true. Now, we both know weapons aren't needed but . . . that little speech, that sealed it for me."
Ben turned his head to face the grin that still played across the other man's face, a grin that he wanted to knock to the floor with every fiber of his being . . . well almost every fiber. Deep inside he reminded himself of the man he wanted to be and part of that was coming to face the mistakes of his past and Aladon was certainly one of those. "So, what do you want with a sellsword without a sword and who doesn't fight? Unless you have a keg or two that you need drained in a hurry I'm not sure what I can do for you these days."
Aladon finished his drink and placed the glass on a random table as he passed, "We have a long way to travel, I'm sure you remember it is a bit of a trek from here. I'll cover the details on the way, but it if it helps you get moving, it involves Elise."
"Elise? But she left . . " as he began to ask the question he was cut short by the sadistic grin on Aladon's face. Slowly he let himself be walked out the door, his mind was racing backwards to a time long ago, back when he was a young man with the whole world open to him and life was simpler, or at least he thought it was . . .
================End of Prelude======================
Special thanks to Deahfel for inspiring the title
Benedict lifted his head from the bar where he found himself and smiled at the glass of bourbon already in his hand, equally thankful for the drink as he was the shade the dive bar provided. He looked around for a moment, not entirely sure how he got here or even what the name of the place was, but that happened sometimes with him. The room was dark, lit only by the stunted light coming through two windows near the door, both had a dingy yellow cloth draped in front of them to block out the light as best they could. The wall and floors were that split and dried grey wood you saw shacks built out of scattered throughout the Thanalan wastes. There was one other patron in the corner of the room, sprawled out in an old chair with his legs stretched out as far as they could under the rough cut and beat up table while his head was tossed back as far as his neck would allow and a sound like a stone mill came from his open gullet. Ben smirked at himself, "Ive been there more times than I could count," he thought to himself. As he brought his attention back to the bar an old grizzled Roegadyn came from the back storage area with a look on his face like Ben owed him money, "Ready to be settlin' up?" he asked.
"Shit, I guess I do owe him money," Ben thought as he smiled at the man and checked is gil pouch, counting the few coins that remained, knowing there was not even enough to cover the bourbon that he hastily finished as he looked back up to the barkeep. "Uhhh . . . How much is the tab?"
The older man stood close to a good foot over Ben and leaned over the bar as he watched him count his gil, "I hopin' ya got a secret stash in ya boot or somethin', the tab is 200."
Now, had he found himself in this situation at any other point in his life, he would have just run out the door and be gone long before the larger man could clear the bar, but . . . things were different now and he was trying to stick to a new path. A path that didn't really condone fleeing into wastes to skip out on a bar tab. His hand went reflexively to his mess of hair and began an assault on the back of his head as he looked at the Roegadyn with an expression somewhere between, "I'm sorry" and "This is going to hurt, huh?"
The barkeep reached below the bar and pulled out a healthy sized club, certainly notable as the man stood near seven fulms tall and was at least double Benedict's weight. Ben closed his eyes, ready to take the beating he knew was coming, when a voice rang near the front door, "I'll pay his tab."
The look on the barkeep's face as well as Ben's must have been a priceless image in raw confusion as the both strained their eyes to adjust to the light of the open door and the silhouette of person standing there. The man in the doorway took a few steps into the building, heavy well shod boots leading the way and leaving a distinctive deep echo in their wake. He was a highlander, somewhere between the height of Benedict and the club wielding barkeep, with broad shoulders and dressed in the kind of finery one might see at the VIP tables of the Golden Saucer. Ben looked at the man still slightly confused but now for reasons completely beyond his current predicament, "Aladon?"
The highlander smiled and tossed a small bag of gil onto the bar, and as it landed and let out a rich jingle of coin against coin, the barkeep smiled and put his club back behind the bar, "That'll do, alright," he said as he hastily scooped up the small bag.
Aladon took a few more steps towards Ben and smiled a grin that could only spell trouble for Ben, "Seems you owe me, no?"
Ben all of a sudden felt like he needed another drink, not entirely unexpected as he typically felt that way in some capacity, but this had everything to do with Aladon's grin and less to do with his own issues that he was constantly trying to drown. "I owe you the cost of the tab, that's it," he said as he began to make his way past the finely dressed man.
Aladon gave a sharp and high pitch whistle, a sound Ben could never stand to begin with, but experience had made things far worse as he knew exactly what Aladon had just done with that shrill call. Some short distance away there would be armed men ready to converge on the place if there was a second call. These men didn't care for lives or honor, only the blood stained gil that Aladon would pay them. Sure, there were only two others in here besides himself, but the last thing he needed was two more bodies to atone for because he acted hastily. Benedict stopped in his tracks, "How many did you bring, Aladon? You sure you want to waste that much money, that many men?," he asked with a flat and even tone, as he attempted to display the confidence of his past self. He knew his bluff had been called when the next sound he heard was the deep laughter coming from the man.
"That was worth this whole trip," still laughing, Aladon leaned on the bar to address the Roegadyn, "Whatever he was just drinking, he always had a nose for the best swill in whatever hole he found himself in. No offense there, barkeep," he finished his laugh while tossing a few more gil the barkeep's way.
Once the older man poured the drink and handed it off he collected the gil and quickly found himself on the other end of the bar, busying himself with some senseless cleaning. There was something overly dangerous about these two men and he had decided that he wanted no part in whatever their business was.
Aladon took a sip of the bourbon and nodded, "See, not bad, all things considered . . ." He turned back towards Benedict who still stood frozen in place in the middle of the room and began a slow clap. "That was perfect. I mean, really . . . I wasn't sure if you were going to try that line, but I was so hoping."
Ben stood there, trying to still the blood that raced through his body and the sound of his own heart that pounded in his head like the jungle drums of some of the miqo'te tribes. He held his fists at his side, clenched so tight that his knuckles were a line of pure white. He spoke through his locked jaw, "What do you want?"
The well dressed man moved from the bar as he continued to sip his drink at a casual pace, and came to stand next to Benedict, "You, of course. Why else would I even come anywhere near this deathtrap? You know, I heard rumors that you had given up fighting, and I truly didn't believe it until I saw you in here with no weapon in sight, that I thought maybe the rumors were true. Now, we both know weapons aren't needed but . . . that little speech, that sealed it for me."
Ben turned his head to face the grin that still played across the other man's face, a grin that he wanted to knock to the floor with every fiber of his being . . . well almost every fiber. Deep inside he reminded himself of the man he wanted to be and part of that was coming to face the mistakes of his past and Aladon was certainly one of those. "So, what do you want with a sellsword without a sword and who doesn't fight? Unless you have a keg or two that you need drained in a hurry I'm not sure what I can do for you these days."
Aladon finished his drink and placed the glass on a random table as he passed, "We have a long way to travel, I'm sure you remember it is a bit of a trek from here. I'll cover the details on the way, but it if it helps you get moving, it involves Elise."
"Elise? But she left . . " as he began to ask the question he was cut short by the sadistic grin on Aladon's face. Slowly he let himself be walked out the door, his mind was racing backwards to a time long ago, back when he was a young man with the whole world open to him and life was simpler, or at least he thought it was . . .
================End of Prelude======================
Special thanks to Deahfel for inspiring the title
