[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3iywwTz.png[/img]

[h2][color=black]Balthier D. Sydney[/color][/h2]

[b]Alabasta Bar by the Docks[/b][/center]

Balthier sullenly sipped at some cheap beer while he contemplated his next move.

The docks had been a dead end. Nobody he talked to had seen a ship matching the Nidhogg's description, save one, who only saw at a distance. When he had sought out the dockmaster he'd been fobbed off by an irate secretary who insisted he make an appointment and comeback tomorrow. Money was his the main issue right now, nothing got people to talk faster then greasing their palms. Except maybe threats, but those could draw trouble. His current drink was courtesy of an unwilling sponsor, who hopefully didn't realize his wallet was missing yet, but there wasn't enough in there to start buying information. 

After this thoroughly wasted day he'd sought out a seedy bar in hopes of more general information, even rumors would do. Sitting there drinking nothing would look suspicious, of course, so he ordered some beer while he was there.

Unfortunately, it looked and tasted like piss. In fact, he was still trying to convince himself that it wasn't. 

Chatter had been uninteresting, just the usual going-on and talk of pirates, until that pink-headed fop and his crew showed up. The atmosphere immediately turned wary, the smarter customers started paying off their tab and leaving. Soon after he arrived, more dangerous-looking people arrived. The bar became a powder keg that one little spark would ignite.

Then it did. Knives, challenges, and death beams flew.

Balthier ignored them. Young pirates were always looking to throw their weight around. [color=black]"Hey, bartender!"[/color] He called. [color=black]"Might want to close up early today, looks like a storm rolled in."[/color] The bartender threw a disgusted look at the troublemakers, then a thoughtful look back at Balthier. "I recognize you. That tattoo." He said slowly with an accent so thick he was chewing on the words. He gestured at Balthier’s dragon tattoo under his coat. "You're a pirate too. Big bounty." 

Balthier shrugged. [color=black]"Aye, I am and I was. Bit of a foolish youth. Turning over a new leaf and all that."[/color]

The bartender grunted. "Let me make you an offer."

[color=black]"So long as its one I can't refuse."[/color] He quipped with a grin.

The big man didn't look amused. "Mh. If you can stop those pirates from destroying my place, I'll make it worth your while."

Balthier leaned forward. [color=black]"Oh? In that case, I need money, information, and booze."[/color]

"Done. Done. Done. Not much cash though."

[color=black]"That's fine, the more of one you can provide, the less of the others I need. But first,"[/color] He held up his flagon and waggled it plaintively. [color=black]"Need some liquid courage."[/color]

The big man packed up with surprising speed, snatching bottles off the wall and sweeping bills into a safe, somehow managing to fill Balthier's flagon in the process. The former captain peered into his drink. [color=black]"Bloody hell that was slick."[/color] He toasted the man, took a deep quaff, then turned around to join the fun.

Most of the bar was quickly emptying, save for the quarreling pirates. Balthier staggered to the danger zone between them, holding our out his arms in the universal 'stop' gensture, clutching his drink in one hand and shouting in a drunken voice. [color=black]"Hey, heey, easy my good sirs and madams. There's drink here enough for everyone. But if you go smashing this place, there won't be. Why don't we call a truce for now, talk things over, get drunk, and if you still feel like fighting after the hangover's worn off, then we find you an empty bit of land in the desert and you can duke it out there where you won't ruin any fine establishments, such as this one."[/color]

He flashed all of them a benign smile.

[@ladyonyx04][@Reflection][@KillBox]