Baderon waved Daunthir over as she wound her way through the crowd at the Drowning Wench. "Lass! come 'ere. I've somethin' fer ye to do. For the Jackets. Down near Aleport, It'll do ye good to get away and feel a nice salt breeze on ye once more."
Daunthir walked over. She was feeling more like herself again. Her body cleaned out from her binge over a week. Cleaned clothes, a room that didn't smell like a fetid Dodo's nest. But those first two days. Daunthir winced, Baderon wasn't exaggerating, the hangover that come for her was brutal. Poor Maude, having to nursemaid Daunthir through the worst of it, cleaning around her while she moaned and complained at every sound, every sliver of light.
"If'n ye are gonna die, get 'round to it already!", the woman would snap, "And do it quietly! I've had my fill, listening to how your head hurts, your tummy aches and how you feel sick all the live-long day. I'd come at night but, lassie, you snore. It's worse than your bellyachin'."
Bedside manner. Maude did not have it.
But she did get Daunthir on her feet again and out the door. Daunthir would wander down Hawker's alley to Mealvaan's Gate to do her Guild Duties. Guild Punishments, really, for all the chaos she'd wreaked on the Library. All under the stoic, watchful judgement of that Rael Librarian, freaking palescaled slave driver! She'd work 10 or 12 hours, then study for another four, and almost crawl back to the Wench to clean up and sleep before doing it all over again
And as to drink, real drink, it wasn't just the Wench that had her cut off, that bastard pirate Baderon had put the word out to every restaurant, tap house, pub, bar, dive, and merchant in Limsa Lominsa that Daunthir was not to be served. All week long. Honeywater, Tea, that terrible Xiq'rhee (which Daunthir discovered, she could barely function without a mug of it in the morning now), Green Smoothies, literally anything but alcohol. Daunthir had given up after two nights of crawling through anywhere she could think of to get a proper drink. Baderon's influence spread everywhere.
Chastened and sober, Daunthir leaned against the counter and Baderon slid a foamy mug of.. ale? ALE! in front of her. "There ye go lass. Yer dry week be over but, If you go on a bender like that again, I'll slap a dry month on ye like clapping irons on a drunken pirate, 'ear-lay in tha mor-nin'. Ye 'as work to do, and it's 'igh time you got back to it."
"Thar be Commodore Reyner now! 'e'll fill you in."
Thus, Daunthir began a week of "squad training", learning actual small group tactics in preparation for missions that demanded, as Commodore Reyner put it "greater rescources than any single individual could muster. The Pirates work in groups, the Yellowjackets work in squads, the Free Companies and the Grand Companies all work as a unit, and now we need you, Daunthir Rayne to function as part of a party, a team."
Squad Training was almost as demanding as her guild punishment. Long days, regimented schedules, study, practice, conditioning. (How many times had she run the distance from Aleport to Swiftperch and back? Too many. Way too many.) By the time she was finished, Daunthir Rayne was prepared to investigate the mystery of Sastasha Seagrot.
In the meantime, following a week of abstinence and a week of training, Daunthir needed to get out of Limsa Lominsa. After her week in Aleport, she purchased an airship ticket to Ul'dah and set off to clear her head.
Haha! I like that Maude. She gives it to ya straight.