The Old Man

The address on the silver token led Finn through winding Ul’dahn alleys until he stopped before an unmarked sandstone villa. Modest outside, but the guards at its courtyard gate stood too still, too professional, to belong to anything but power.

One glanced at Finn’s token, then wordlessly ushered him inside.

The interior was another world: polished marble floors, tapestries depicting ancient trade routes, and the faint scent of incense masking parchment and ink. Led down a corridor, Finn entered a chamber lined with scrolls, ledgers, and maps—Ul’dah’s veins of coin made visible.

And sitting behind a low desk of lacquered wood was the “old man” from the alehouse.

He wasn’t in plain robes anymore. Gold-threaded garments draped his frame, a ruby ring glinted on one hand, and a retinue of quiet clerks waited by the walls. The smile was the same—but this time, measured and commanding.

Finn froze. “…you’ve got to be kidding me.”

The man steepled his fingers. “Allow me to be less cryptic. I am Lolorito Nanarito. Chairman of the East Aldenard Trading Company. Member of the Syndicate of Ul’dah.”

He gestured to the room. “And, by extension, one of the men you were looking to steal from.”

Finn shifted uneasily.

“Most who sit across from me,” Lolorito went on, “prattle with rehearsed compliments, hoping for scraps. You, however, speak from the alleys. You know the hunger, the debt, the way the Syndicate’s decrees trickle down as dust into poor men’s hands. That honesty, boy, is rarer than diamonds.”

Lolorito’s eyes sharpened. “That is why I bother with you. A man of strength, yes — but more importantly, one who remembers the taste of want. The others of the Syndicate? They have long forgotten. You could speak for those who cannot buy a voice. Shape their future, while learning to play the game that truly rules Ul’dah.”

Finn sat in silence. He had faced blades and blood, but never a man who spoke of coin like it was steel. Lolorito’s presence pressed heavier than any opponent.

“Guard my interests,” the chairman said at last. “Watch the caravans, shield the ventures. In return, I will teach you how to turn a single coin into a thousand — not for theft, not for charity, but for design. Learn this craft, and you may yet change Ul’dah itself.”

Finn was still trying to fathom this acquaintance.

“Can… you show me how..?”