The constricting grasp of some who would consider themselves Syndicate care not for the throat they close around. The truly ruthless see the opportunity to make money and seize it without care for who becomes trampled underfoot. That is the way of the world in Ul'dah, where the matter of a few simple coins is never a simple matter. Unfortunately for one Winthrop Figgenbottom, his fledgling trading company wasn't enough to stand up to the back-door dealings and applied pressure of the longer-lived snakes.
Winthrop had watched his margins shrink more and more as the moons passed him by, unsure what sort of bad luck was more to blame than the rest; His transports were constantly beleaguered by broken wheel and wagon parts. A transport carrying delicate perishable ingredients from La Noscea had its leading beasts go missing from stable one night. His best journeymen were being lured away by other traders offering better money. By the time Winthrop became wise to the possibility of his competition causing problems for him, he was already too destitute to do anything about it. In the race of commerce, he was being lapped.
The collapse of Figgenbottom's Fineries incited more than just business turmoil; His personal life had been upturned by the result as well. While Winthrop burdened himself with attempting to make enough coin for himself and his wife to get by, she had been courted by those who had always fancied her from afar. Winthrop was once the inheritor of a goodly sum of coin and gold from his family's estate, and his leaning to live beyond his means had attracted a buxom elezen more interested in what he could provide than who could provide them. It was no surprise when some other young and eager dreaming aristocrat made his claim for her. Winthrop came home to an empty house one day to something not quite a note. Instead of finding his beloved's put-upon pouting face wanting to know how much he had made and what he was going to buy her, or perhaps coming back to find her things all packed and missing, the former-businessman had come home simply to find a business card for another's business resting upon his pillow.
These are the sorts of things that would drive a man mad. Deprived of his life's work and the few things that made him happy, it is no surprise that Winthrop started squandering his meager money on more base means of escape. There are a good many trade goods available in Ul'dah that the man knew how to obtain; He'd never dealt with them himself but he was aware of them.
The people of Ul'dah had witnessed the city consume yet one more hopeful dreamer, the spark of taking life by the horns and overcoming the stories now fizzled out. It wasn't a surprise to any of them, in fact, when Winthrop Figgenbottom turned up cold and stiff in his bed on the day his home was to be taken from him. Not a surprise at all.
Winthrop had watched his margins shrink more and more as the moons passed him by, unsure what sort of bad luck was more to blame than the rest; His transports were constantly beleaguered by broken wheel and wagon parts. A transport carrying delicate perishable ingredients from La Noscea had its leading beasts go missing from stable one night. His best journeymen were being lured away by other traders offering better money. By the time Winthrop became wise to the possibility of his competition causing problems for him, he was already too destitute to do anything about it. In the race of commerce, he was being lapped.
The collapse of Figgenbottom's Fineries incited more than just business turmoil; His personal life had been upturned by the result as well. While Winthrop burdened himself with attempting to make enough coin for himself and his wife to get by, she had been courted by those who had always fancied her from afar. Winthrop was once the inheritor of a goodly sum of coin and gold from his family's estate, and his leaning to live beyond his means had attracted a buxom elezen more interested in what he could provide than who could provide them. It was no surprise when some other young and eager dreaming aristocrat made his claim for her. Winthrop came home to an empty house one day to something not quite a note. Instead of finding his beloved's put-upon pouting face wanting to know how much he had made and what he was going to buy her, or perhaps coming back to find her things all packed and missing, the former-businessman had come home simply to find a business card for another's business resting upon his pillow.
These are the sorts of things that would drive a man mad. Deprived of his life's work and the few things that made him happy, it is no surprise that Winthrop started squandering his meager money on more base means of escape. There are a good many trade goods available in Ul'dah that the man knew how to obtain; He'd never dealt with them himself but he was aware of them.
The people of Ul'dah had witnessed the city consume yet one more hopeful dreamer, the spark of taking life by the horns and overcoming the stories now fizzled out. It wasn't a surprise to any of them, in fact, when Winthrop Figgenbottom turned up cold and stiff in his bed on the day his home was to be taken from him. Not a surprise at all.
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