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Making Amends

 
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Locke DVestavio
Adventurer
Adventurer


Joined: 16 Nov 2007
Posts: 42

Location: New Haven, RhyDin City
1,524 Silver Nobles


PostPosted: Thu Sep 11, 2008 10:36 pm    Post subject: Making Amends Reply with quote

Perhaps it was Locke's schedule that had delayed his payment to G for the bar he had so egregiously damaged months ago. The ice elf had been busy over the summer, what with training, work, and his recent move out of the Red Dragon Inn into the heart of the New Haven district. His activities of late had left him little free time. Or perhaps Locke was trying to prolong the inevitable, in hopes that G would forget all about the incident, and subsequent confrontations between the pair. It was no secret the two didn't get along in the slightest. Finally, though, Locke came to the sad but most likely true conclusion that his debt to G was too large for the businessman and Duel of Swords proprietor to let slide indefinitely. And the blue elf had just happened to stumble across a substantial sum of money that would allow him to pay off what he owed without a significant cramp to his lifestyle. It was time to pay the piper and wrap up this loose thread of his life, so he could move forward.

First, Locke went to the First Goblin Bank of RhyDin in the Marketplace, and drew up a cashier's check for the amount he owed G, plus a little extra on top. Even now, the exact amount of the original bill was stamped into his memory: 14,548.50 silver nobles. Hopefully, paying the man 15,000 nobles even would be enough to distract him from the lateness of his payment. Once the check had been secured, Locke went over to a nearby sidewalk cafe, and, with a croissant and iced coffee to keep him company, he wrote G a quick note.

Dear G'nort Dragoon Talanador,

Enclosed in this envelope with this note is a cashier's check for 15,000 silver nobles, which should be sufficient to cover the costs of repairing the bar as detailed in the receipt you sent me in May. I apologize for not remitting payment to you sooner; it was only in recent months that I was able to obtain the funds necessary, thanks to a stroke of luck on the roulette tables. Hopefully this amount is sufficient to clear the accounts between myself, the Arena, and yourself. Do not hesitate to contact me if this is not the case, so that we may come to a fair and equitable compromise.

Sincerely,

Locke D'Vestavio

After he wrote the note and sealed it in an envelope, Locke lingered over the remnants of his pastry and coffee for a few minutes before disposing of them and leaving some silvers on the table as a tip. He flagged down the first messenger he saw, pressed the envelope and more silvers into the lad's hands, then directed him to deliver the missive to G's office at the Arena. Once the courier was off and running to the Arena, Locke casually brushed some stray crumbs off of his eggplant colored dress shirt to the ground, before beginning his casual stroll back to New Haven. With any luck, he would have the last word.

((Cross-Posted from the Arena))
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Locke DVestavio
Adventurer
Adventurer


Joined: 16 Nov 2007
Posts: 42

Location: New Haven, RhyDin City
1,524 Silver Nobles


PostPosted: Wed Sep 17, 2008 11:11 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Discrete inquiries, done with the assistance of Locke's developing network of spies (most of them young, poor lads who were willing to work for coppers, food, and occasional shelter at a room he had rented as a safehouse), had revealed that Celestia Starr was still, in fact, residing at the Golden Ivy Tavern. He hadn't seen her in some time, but that was to be expected. Truth be told, he hadn't seen much of anybody in the past few months. He'd become a homebody, a 9-5er who spent what little free time he had exercising, training with Koyliak, or other...extracurricular activities. There had been no time for drinks, no time for duels, no time for friends (or those he had called friends). With Lesty, there was also the little fact that he had challenged her to an honor duel because of some things she had written about an unfortunate loss of his in the DoS Madness tournament in the spring. When he made the challenge, he was hotheaded and infuriated at the possibility that his name might become synonymous with choking. He was afraid the other duelists would think he was a showboat, someone who could talk the talk but couldn't walk the walk. It was one of the reasons why he had mostly stayed away from the duels over the summer.

Circumstances beyond their control had forced them to delay the honor match, after Celestia had reached out to the dueling community to find a champion for herself. As time passed, Locke mellowed out, as melancholy from other life events settled in. It mixed with self-reflection and self-pity, and after a while, he came to the initial conclusion that she was probably right. He was positively terrible at Swords. How many times had he moved up and down between the introductory rank and the one above it? Too many times, and it stung his ego every time he had to drop a rank. He was going to quit, both Swords and Magic, and stick with what he knew best. Then, after conversations with some friends he hadn't seen in quite some time, he decided to jump back into the fray. Why not? What could it hurt? After all, upon closer examination, it seemed that most of the duelists had forgotten or didn't know about his defeat at Madness, and didn't really seem to care about his struggles with ranking. They seemed happy to see him back, concerned about his well-being, and just generally genuinely interested in him. It was a good feeling, to feel wanted, to feel appreciated, even if he was still a struggling young duelist.

It didn't take Locke long at all to decide to resolve the issues surrounding the lingering honor match issue once and for all. It had dangled above his head for far too long, and even if everyone else had forgotten all about it, he hadn't. It was a problem that needed to be handled, so that he could continue to move forward. He retrieved his trusty pen and paper, headed for the gardened rooftop of the Elemental Arms apartment complex he had recently moved into, and dug in.

The gardens on top of the Elemental Arms building were fairly simple. They consisted mostly of a series of gravel walkways around lush grass lawns and various bushes. There were a handful of flowers, here and there, but they weren't in any real pattern: whoever planted them didn't seem to have put any real thought into where they went, scattering seeds so that baby's breath, black-eyed Susans, forget-me-nots and other brightly colored flowers sprouted wherever they had landed. The dominant feature up here was the tree trunk bisecting the center of the roof, twisting its way up to the sky with thick branches and verdant leaves. It was skinny enough, and trimmed on a regular basis, so that sunlight reached most of the roof, but there was still shade enough to sit under and stay cool. Which was exactly what Locke did, as he wrote his letter to Lesty.

Dear Celestia Starr,

I hope this letter finds you in good shape and fine spirits. First of all, I would like to apologize for all the ugliness between us over that article you wrote for the dueling tabloid. I am glad that things turned out the way they did, and the honor duel did not go on as scheduled. It gave me some time to contemplate the situation.

After much thought, I realized something. I was wrong to ask you to censor yourself in the tabloid. You have every right to your opinion, even if I did not agree with it at the time. I may not agree with what you said even now, but I will withdraw my request for you to pull it from the tabloid, or run a correction apologizing for what you've said. I am hoping there are no hard feelings, and that you do not expect me to admit in public my lack of fighting talent. I would hope this resolves our issues in a private manner, with no need for either of us to embarrass ourselves needlessly in public. If it does not, please let me know, so that we may determine a way to rectify this situation.

Sincerely,

Locke D'Vestavio

Once finished, he exited the rooftop, then the apartment building. He walked a few blocks over, to Benson Boulevard, where the various boutiques of RhyDin's high fashion were mostly situated. In this part of town, the couriers were better-dressed, snootier, and occasionally possessed quicker methods of transportation, like bicycles or mopeds. He didn't quite feel like paying the going rate for motorized messengers, so he flagged down one on a bike, handed him his missive to Celestia with the necessary silvers to pay for it, and sent the man pedaling towards the Golden Ivy, muttering under his breath about how cheap Locke was.
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