Summary: The story of Ipsen from years ago, in the world where technological advances had yet to occur, he had a tavern, a livleihood, the jealous respect of his neighbors, the affection of the foxy Alice. Most of all, he had his most treasured friendship with Colin. However, what exactly is Colin hiding?

Zidane

"Hey, that's Ipsen's line."

Dagger

"Ipsen? Who's that?"

Zidane

"Ipsen is a character from a play, but he's a real-life adventurer. I think the play is based on his adventures."

"It kind of goes like this..."

(Screen fades to black, with all the following lines of dialogue in white)

"Ipsen and his good friend Colin worked at a tavern in Treno."

"One Day, Ipsen got a letter. The letter was so wet from rain that most of the writing was illegible."

"The only part he could read said "Come back home." Now a days, we have airships and stuff, but back then, it was really hard to travel."

"He didn't know why he had to go back, but he got some time off, gathered his things, and set out on his journey home."

"He walked a thousand leagues through the Mist. Sometimes he was attacked by vicious monsters, but he made it, because his friend Colin was by his side."

"And then, after much time on the road..."

"He had to ask Colin something."

""Why did you come with me?""

[Screen fades back in, Dagger & Zidane in the boat]

Dagger

"And? What was Colin's answer?"

Zidane

"Only because I wanted to go with you."

"Collllllin!" screeched a girl in a glass breaking saprano. This scantily claid, flame-hair, emerlad eyed, but sodden vixen stomped into the dank and dark tavern Hobble Chocobo" like a siren poised to devour men. "Get your damn ass out here right now!"

The patrons of the tavern cranked their necks lazily at the girl. Many of them raised an eye brow as the girl was not definitely not of high birth, especially not a Treno dwelling noblewoman. No arrogant rich debutant would ever bare so much skin. Those who were regular at the tavern though, just sigh and shook their head.

"Looks like Colin is in trouble again," muttered a bearded man.

"With the ladies, as usual," commented another. "Probably that bucket-over-the-door trick gone wrong."

A butler, who was a first-timer at the tavern, stared lustfully at the girl. "Such a pretty one too..."

"Collllllin!" the girl screeched again. She started pacing through the tavern like a she-wolf on the prowl.

"He is not here, Alice," said the bar-tender as he absent-mindedly dry an ale mug with a rather semi-clean rag, staring at Alice with a dumb dumb expression on his face. Alice was not a woman to go unnoticed by men. She wore only the most revealing clothing that was only a glance away from indecency. All the cosmetics she wore enhanced her already voluptuous beauty and only the mostly steel willed man could resist this embodiment of a pleasure goddess.

Alice stopped pacing when she heard the man's words. She gave the bar-tender a fake but dazzling smile. "Ah...Ipsen..." she purred while approaching him with a sultry stride.

"Oh oh..."Ipsen's eyes widen suddenly then looked down and blushed. This twenty-five years old man, who owned the only honest bar in Treno, could never resist the ladies, especially not Alice. Unfortunately for him, Alice learned that the first time she met him.

"Ipsen..." sang Alice. She paced over to the bar then leaning over the bar top. Her larger-than normal breasts threatened to spill out all over her linen tie-on top. "Are you sure that Colin is out?" she asked with the sweetest voice she could muster. As a bonus, she even jiggled her boobs lightly.

"Um...er...Yes!" said Ipsen, blushing even redder. He swore he could see the profile of her nipples.

Alice giggled. Ipsen was so modest and adorable, with those innocent gray eyes and sandy hair. Additionally, he was probably one of the few people who would look at her as a person despite her suggested profession. His innocent ways touched her heart and Alice would never do anything too bad to Ipsen. On the other hand, Alice would enjoy killing Colin on sight.

Speaking of Colin, a blue eye red-headed youth just strolled into the tavern. He wasn't very tall, and looked to be about fifteen years old, pretty much a teenager who just started his squeaky voice years. In his hands were fresh mail from his visit of the local moogle.

"Mail," said Colin. He was about to say more when he saw Alice turn, giving him the death glare.

"Colin!" yipped Ipsen. "Run!"

Colin did not even had a chance to hide, to react, protect himself, or run away before Alice sped to his face and smacked him in the cheek with all her might. Colin fell flat backwards, more than a little dazed with a mighty red hand indented in his left cheek. The mail was scattered all over the dirty tavern floor.

"Serves you right! Colin." huffed Alice. "If not for dear Ipsen here, I would have beaten you to a bloody pulp!" Then, giving everyone a baleful glare, she stumped right back out of the Hobblin' Chocobo, as sudden and ostentatiously as she had appeared.

"Ow," whimpered Colin. His head was tilted and awkwardly turned. He tried to set it back to where it should be with his hand, but each nasty sounding crack of his neck vertabre made him stop in mid turn.

Ipsen headed into the cellar. It was after hours. Colin had came in just before closing so the cleaning up was quick. Ipsen searched the dank place for some aged rum for Colin. The red haired young man, after all, can drink even a Grand Dragon into submission.

"Thanks...Ow..." Colin had attempted to turn his head so the bottle would be verticle instead of diagonal.

"Here, let me pour," said Ipsen. He took the rum and pour a shot for Colin though not too much. Colin was still very much a growing boy. "Now...why is Alice mad at you?"

"Because I sounded the alarm in the King's Auction house."

"King's?" said Ipsen incredulously. Only ridiculously rich people, ie nobles and mob bosses, would ever even dream of going there. "Why were you there?"

"I wanted an action figure of Cid the Hunter," answered Colin innocently.

Ipsen gave Colin a look. Sometimes, it seems like Colin would never grow up. Action figures were for five-years- olds! "How's getting an action figure got to do with Alice?"

"Well, Alice was there too. She looked like she was trying to sneak into the back and I followed her. I kinda tripped on something and one of King's servants noticed. We had to run for our lives so we ended up in a canal."

"I guess you're lucky to be alive," commented Ipsen. Lord King had a reputation for ruthlessness in his dealing with trespassers. The gossips on the streets often burned with the torture stories of those unfortunate enough to be caught. However, knowing Colin and his ungodly luck, Ipsen had no worries for his friend.

Ipsen now turned his attention to the pack of mail and while Colin tried to drink his rum without choking. Drinking sideways was harder than it seems, and Colin had to take it in little sips.

"Bills...Bills..Bills...Newsletter...Hama Hama Hunka?"

Colin's hand shot out and slipped the letter out of Ipsen's hands before Ipsen could even notice.

"Sorry. Mail from a friend," explained Colin with a wink. "You know...from one of those hehe...nicer...friends."

Ipsen rolled his eyes. Colin was a born skirt chaser. Ever since Ipsen known Colin, Colin was always giving cheesy pick-up lines to anyone of the opposite gender, even when he was only twelve! He was smacked plenty of times, but that did not seem to deter him.

"Anyways," said Colin while he opened the letter in his hand. "Someone did write you a letter. I saw it."

Ipsen snorted. "Who would ever write a letter to me?" He only had to leafed through another two envelops before he saw the yellow crinkled paper addressed to "Ipsen Myer." Without giving much thought, tore open the letter with a finger. In the background, he could hear Colin snapping his head back into place.

"Damn," cursed Ipsen. "I can't read any of this!"

The paper looked weathered, like newspaper that had been exposed to the sun for days. There were faint ink blotches run downs and imprinting from one side of the folded letter to each other. Ipsen tried to to make out the words, but everything was just too faded. It was a short letter though, and Ipsen could only read one line.

"Come back home," whispered Ipsen. He read that line again. "Someone is asking me to go back to Posypolie?"

Colin, who was reading his letter with an annoyed expression looked up. "What?"

"Posypolie, my hometown," clarified Ipsen.

"Where the hell is that?" asked Colin. He threw his own letter over the shoulder and turned to Ipsen, concerned.

"It's on the Lindblum border, somewhere near the Marmaluke's Grotto," explained Ipsen. He was not surprised that Colin did not know where Posypolie is. The town was juggled between Lindblum and Burmecia, owing to its divided small population of humans and musins. Half the time, the town was not even listed on a map of either country.

Colin's eyes were large. "How in the world did you get here in the first place? Marmaluke's Grotto is at least a thousand leagues from here. It would had taken you a year to get to Treno on foot."

Ipsen smiled mysteriously. He really did not want to tell Colin that he DID walk the entire way to Treno. If he can recall correctly, the entire trip actually took him five years. He stopped by many small towns, and loitered around Lindblum for some time before ending up in Treno. It was his dream to see Alexandria someday, so now he want to make some money in Treno before he goes.

"Well, are you going go?" asked Colin.

"I don't think so," said Ipsen hesitantly. "I mean, I only have a sister back there, but she was adopted really young, before she could remember me."

"Well," said Colin, standing up. He cracked his neck painfully and winced. "If you're gonna go, tell me. I will come along."

Ipsen frowned. "Come along? It'll be a year long journey, through dangerous and monster infested terrain. I had to go along caravans with at least five mercenaries to survive."

Colin snorted. "Hey, we deal with Alice, and I doubt there's anything more dangerous than that old bag."

"I heard that!" came a voice from the door.

Colin immediately cringed then looked left and right for a safe place to hide.

Alice came stumping inside, her red hair dry and fell down her sides in a waterfall of red curls. Her blue eyes narrowed contemptuously at Colin. "Do you want another one?" she shook her fist warningly.

"I'm sorry Alice, I didn't meant to!" cried Colin pathetically. He shrank into a corner, dramatically shaking all over.

Alice snorted in disgust. "Quit your pathetic acting. You're not afraid of me." She galumphed to their table and fell heavily on a chair. She looked a tired, with developing hallows underneath her eye and her shoulder slumped. She reached inside her lacy shirt, rather obviously into her bra and pulled out a a thick roll of bills. She threw it at the table and the bills scattered beautifully in front of Ipsen. "Give me the strongest of the house."

"Right up," said Ipsen. He jumped up and went behind the bar counter. He retrieved a innocent looking green wine bottle with a skull imprint on the glass.

"Wow," commented Colin, looking at the pile of bills. "Business must've been good tonight."

"Shut up!" said Alice, looking rather moody.

Instead of shrinking back, Colin paced up next to her and pulled up a chair. "Come on. Usually you're delighted when you make this much a night," he said with a smirk.

Alice growled. "I would had made more if you hadn't pushed me into the canal!" At that, she slammed her fist on the table, rattling the rum bottle and shot glass.

"Atmos's Special," interrupted Ipsen, putting down a vile looking concoction of pitch black goop with the consistency of tar.

Alice picked up the shot glass and gulped it down in one huff. The tonic burned the entire way down, and Alice grimaced. "Another!" clamored Alice, pushing the glass away.

Ipsen looked a little startled. "Are you sure Alice? That stuff is enough to fall a chocobo!"

"Just do as I say," yelled Alice.

"So why are you being like this for?" asked Colin while Ipsen went to make another Atmos's Special. "It's not like you been to the King's torture chamber."

"I..."

"Oh My God! You did?" exclaimed Colin, faking a frightened expression.

"No!" yelled Alice, her face red. "Lord King barged in on me and Sam!"

"Sam, the Auctioneer?" asked Colin.

Alice nodded. "Sam took me to this really nice place near the cafés. He gave me a fur cloak lined with silk too. Then we went back to the auction house and stupid Colin here shows up," she glared at Colin. "At any rate, Sam and I met up later. He paid me, saying we'll be like Kings tonight. He didn't lie. We got to use King's own bed and bath...but..."

"But?" Strangely, Colin was smirking like there was no tomorrow. "You got caught by King himself."

Alice reached over and smack Colin again.

"Hey! What the hell was THAT for?" cried Colin, holding his cheek

"If you were going to play vouyer, then why didn't you warn me?" screeched Alice.

Colin's eyes widen in injury. "I wasn't there, Alice! I was out getting mail from the moogle!"

"Lies!" screamed Alice.

"Calm down!" barged in Ipsen. He slammed down two drinks. "You two need to cool it!"

Alice and Colin glared at each other while they both swallowed their drinks. Alice's face was turning red rapidy, but her anger seemed to be fading. Colin did not even feel it, still injured by Alice's accusation.

"So what happened," asked Ipsen.

Alice sighed. "It turned out that Lord Kings was sitting in a soft seat in a darken corner the entire time. He told Sam to get out and me to stay." Alice hugged herself. "Have you ever seen Lord Kings, Ipsen?"

Ipsen shook his head. "No. I have not. What's he look like."

Alice looked down, deeply embarrassed. "Beautiful," she blurted.

"What was that?" asked Ipsen, not quite catching what she said.

"Beautiful," said Alice clearly this time. "He is more beautiful than Michelle, my big sister at Bliss."

A laugh inevitably escaped from Colin's lips. "Beautiful? Are you serious? I think he looks like a fag more than anything."

Colin moved just in time to dodge a flying shot glass tossed at his head. The little cup flew across the room and smashed itself crisply against the brick wall. "You fucking little liar!" she screamed with her face beet red, standing up. "You were there!" Two steps and she was within perfect punching range.

"Oh calm down!" yelled Ipsen, standing behind her and restraining her with one arm at the collarbones. He dragged her back to her chair and forcefully seated her. "Don't get so angry over Colin. He's not worth it."

"Hey!" protested Colin.

Ipsen gave his rare death glare at Colin, telling him to shut up.

Colin pouted like a child being punished for sticking his hand in the cookie jar. Alice responded with sticking her tongue out.

Ipsen shook his head, not sure if he should chuckle or frown upon their actions. They were his first and best friends in Treno. Colin helped Ipsen out of a jam with some spoiled nobleman's child. Alice was a drinking buddy who had the occasion to help Ipsen out of jail by her feminine wiles. Both were homeless, Colin spent his days on the streets of Treno stealing whatever he could and sleeping in the lofts of unsuspecting nobles. Alice was, in the complete definition of the word, a prostitute; she kept whatever bed her client felt like giving or whatever bed she felt like stealing. They were two true rogues, constantly picking in the pockets of nobles and on each other.

Then came along Ipsen, who dared to do the honorable and opened a tavern to actually EARN his living. He flatly refused to cater to career criminals too, saying that even criminals should be decent enough to pay for drinks. That shocked the many mob bosses in Treno, who wanted to use Ipsen's Hobblin' Chocobo as their hang out place. They planned to burn down the place too. Unfortunately for them, one of them had the idiotic audacity to step a single foot on Lord King's property, trying to steal an auction item prior to the planned arson. It was the only time that Lord King ever showed his presence in public, cloaked and all. The locals said that there were piercing screams and pleads of mercy emitted from Lord King's mansion for a straight week.

That event even frightened Colin into working at the Hobblin' Chocobo for a living.

"So, what did your letter say?" asked Alice, noticing blurred letter in Ipsen's pocket. The Atoms Special was finally taking its full effect and her face flushed a pretty red.

"Oh. Someone is asking me to go home."

"Home? This is your home." said Alice, crossing her arms and glaring at Colin. "This fool, on the other hand..."

"I resent that!" seethed Colin.

"Never mind that," said Ipsen, suddenly feeling tired and irritated by the whole situation. He would have to write back and read up on the current political situation between Burmecia and Lindblum. "You two behave. I'm going to bed."

Alice was still grumbling when she finally laid down for sleep. Since Ipsen kept a small inn on the top floor of the tavern, he offered her the spare bed in his room.

It was not often that she stayed at the tavern, it had to do with shame. She was a harlot, a woman who sold her body to the highest bidder of the night and felt nothing toward the defilement of her flesh. When she first met Ipsen, she was so taken by his sincerity that she felt unworthy to be in such a man's presence. Before, she even slept with Colin, who always knew where a handy bed would be. Now, she stopped that and even thought about turning respectable.

The idea troubled her. Alice had been doing her line of work since her mother, May, died of cholera. Selling herself was an art she knew best. How to lace her bodice just the right way. Where to cut modest dresses. Agents who could refer her to the best clients.

May was a plain woman who had always had a weak heart. And due to her more staid background, she knew of no craft or skill and thus could barely support herself and her daughter. They went hungry many times, and Alice resented such conditions. Survival at the cost of dignity seemed like a fair trade. As for her father, she had very little memory of. That was probably for the best because Alice could only remember her father beating mother. The only other thing she could remember was that she resembled her father in the color of flaming red-hair but had gotten her blue eyes from her pitiful mother. She could only hope that her father had been long dead in a ditch somewhere.

"What are you thinking?" Alice finding herself asking Ipsen. Today was an infuriating night. As skilled a rouge as she, Colin was far superior a rogue than her. It was only natural that he could sneak around King's mansion without much consequences. Considering Colin's skill, her anger against him was more petty than anything. She had to turn her thoughts away.

"About Posypolie," answered Ipsen, his eyes closed in fond memory of his hometown. "How every spring and summer the field would blossom in a million colors."

"Must be a beautiful place to live," said Alice wistfully. She had lived in Treno all her life, always a step closer to the slums and closer to the up-state than anyone. Fields of flowers were something that she saw in the expensive paintings that nobles had commissioned.

"It was pretty nice. There's the musin Burmecians dragon knights who intermingled with the Lindblum humans engineers. Neighbors, be they human or not, would greet each other as they pass by. We were all nice to each other, probably because Marmaluke doesn't like violence."

"Marmaluke?"

"The guardian of the grotto. It's a magnificent serpent dragon. He watches the pathway between Burmecia and Lindblum, protecting it from invasion on either side. I saw it once or twice, sneaking off offerings from the village."

"Sneaking?"

"It isn't suppose to be seen, but it sure do like pastries."

Alice laughed, a sound that was hauntingly similar to ringing bells. It was one of her many beauties. A flower in the slums of Treno. "I would like to go see it some time."

"It's far though," cautioned Ipsen. "It's about a thousand leagues, it might take us a few years."

"Doesn't matter. It's not like I have any strong ties to Treno."

"You have Colin."

Alice snorted. "Colin can go to hell."

"Surly you don't mean that."

"Yes I do!"

"Come on. Colin is a good friend who had always helped us before. As I recall, he helped you out a lot."

Alice considered for a few moments, how she became friends with Colin.

She met Colin a few years ago, when she was starting her profession. The boy had laughed at her, telling her that she won't get any good clients in the area she was in. Alice's pride was insulted and she went chasing after Colin into the effluent estates near the King's Auction House. It was embarrassing to say, but her first client was some nobleman's ugly son. He was pitifully small and limp, but the rate was one of the best. And he never tired to hit her, unlike the stories she heard from others of her profession. It was then that she learned Colin really was a nice guy who was just trying to help out a fellow rogue. When she wanted to thank Colin though, he laughed at her again, telling her "I told you so."

"I guess I don't hate Colin," grumbled Alice fitfully. Alice took to Colin since Colin was the only other red-headed blue eyed rogue around. Alice would never confess it, but she rather liked the playful banter she exchanged with Colin. He made life interesting.

"See, that wasn't so hard to admit," said Ipsen.

Alice decided to change the topic. "So, are you going back?" There was a strange longing in her voice. "Back to home?"

There was a long pause. "I'm not sure. I will need someone to mind the tavern and I'll need to run for supplies. Colin is very reliable when he's in, but he is usually not around."

"I have the opposite problem. He's around too much and unreliable to boot."

"Haha. That's probably because you have fine womanly assets," joked Ipsen. "You know how Colin gets in trouble with anything that wears a skirt."

They were both silent for a while before Ipsen spoke again.

"You know, you are a good woman, Alice. You're charming, kind-hearted, independent, yet so endearing. Colin teases you often, but you know it's only because he loves you like a sister. I hope you realize that."

"Yes," admitted Alice with a blush. Ipsen had always been so gentlemanly to her, unlike many of her clients. "Let's sleep now. I'm dead tired."