Lucillus Nitrozian
There was no way he was going to make this fun. There was no way in hell Lucillus Nitrozian, with all his power, with all his wealth, could make this evening fun.
The thought was depressing in its finality. What was more depressing was knowing that he couldn’t leave his damn office until this petching three hundred page contract was completed. Well, I could always leave… but then I’d lose the job, and then I’d lose my business, and then I’d lose my home. He had no choice but to leap straight into it. Giving a deep sigh, Luc ran a hand through his hair and stared at the mounds of parchment arranged in piles across his desk, glancing longingly at the door. If he had the smallest ounce of willpower, he would be throwing himself into the streets and into the nearest brothel, ready to while away his evening in the heat of some whore. If only…if only.
Instead, he was stuck here. Stuck here with nothing but parchment, ink, the quill, and the lonely candle that flickered on his desk top. Leaning back in his padded chair, the Nitrozian set down his quill and reached into his breast pocket. Hope to Rhysol I didn’t leave it back at the NHC… But finally a stroke of luck came to his good fortune, and he managed to wriggle his pipe free of the pocket. Withdrawing a small pinch of Swamp Weed, Luc lit the pipe and took a long smoke. He knew that smoking in the office was a bad habit, was likely to damage the contracts, but petch it. If Old Sitanos is going to force me to do this damn job, then I’m not going to give one shyke about how it turns out.
The only reason he was forced to deal with this was due to the contract’s highly sensitive nature. Any other three hundred page contract, Luc would have bargained for at least half a season to get the work completed. Any other client, he would have asked them to be patient and understanding. But this client was Gurnest Lark, and the contract guaranteed the Nitrozian family a 20% cut on all exports of silk through Lark channels in exchange for cutbacks dealt to all non-Lark produced textiles sold in Nitrozian businesses. It mattered little to Luc whether the contract was arranged properly or not - he knew that this would only mean the difference of a few hundred gold in Nitrozian pockets - but Sitanos cared deeply about the outcome of this business arrangement.
Get it done by dawn. That was all Sitanos had said before he left the office, some two bells ago. Get it done, the Nitrozian head had said, then giving a nod to the guards stationed outside the doorway. The guards that were going to cut Luc down if he left the office without a finished contract in hand.
It was a bluff. Luc knew that it was a bluff. But it was a damned good one.
And when he owed this office, his wealth, his training, when he owed everything to Sitanos Nitrozian… Luc had little choice. The lawyer let out a long sigh. This was going to be a long night.
The thought was depressing in its finality. What was more depressing was knowing that he couldn’t leave his damn office until this petching three hundred page contract was completed. Well, I could always leave… but then I’d lose the job, and then I’d lose my business, and then I’d lose my home. He had no choice but to leap straight into it. Giving a deep sigh, Luc ran a hand through his hair and stared at the mounds of parchment arranged in piles across his desk, glancing longingly at the door. If he had the smallest ounce of willpower, he would be throwing himself into the streets and into the nearest brothel, ready to while away his evening in the heat of some whore. If only…if only.
Instead, he was stuck here. Stuck here with nothing but parchment, ink, the quill, and the lonely candle that flickered on his desk top. Leaning back in his padded chair, the Nitrozian set down his quill and reached into his breast pocket. Hope to Rhysol I didn’t leave it back at the NHC… But finally a stroke of luck came to his good fortune, and he managed to wriggle his pipe free of the pocket. Withdrawing a small pinch of Swamp Weed, Luc lit the pipe and took a long smoke. He knew that smoking in the office was a bad habit, was likely to damage the contracts, but petch it. If Old Sitanos is going to force me to do this damn job, then I’m not going to give one shyke about how it turns out.
The only reason he was forced to deal with this was due to the contract’s highly sensitive nature. Any other three hundred page contract, Luc would have bargained for at least half a season to get the work completed. Any other client, he would have asked them to be patient and understanding. But this client was Gurnest Lark, and the contract guaranteed the Nitrozian family a 20% cut on all exports of silk through Lark channels in exchange for cutbacks dealt to all non-Lark produced textiles sold in Nitrozian businesses. It mattered little to Luc whether the contract was arranged properly or not - he knew that this would only mean the difference of a few hundred gold in Nitrozian pockets - but Sitanos cared deeply about the outcome of this business arrangement.
Get it done by dawn. That was all Sitanos had said before he left the office, some two bells ago. Get it done, the Nitrozian head had said, then giving a nod to the guards stationed outside the doorway. The guards that were going to cut Luc down if he left the office without a finished contract in hand.
It was a bluff. Luc knew that it was a bluff. But it was a damned good one.
And when he owed this office, his wealth, his training, when he owed everything to Sitanos Nitrozian… Luc had little choice. The lawyer let out a long sigh. This was going to be a long night.
