Dear Sir Julian, The Blade of The West, my master and my best friend,
If only you could see your pupil now, sire! I am truly following in the steps of my tutor - you, the greatest swordsman that has ever lived. I see now your tutelage was worth every penny of THAT MAN. Though I shan't honor or grace his selfish self by addressing him as my father; a progenitor, at best.
But I digress... Sire, I am pleased to announce I have mastered FIREBRAND. Your own golden claymore and last gift to me, your precious student. As a matter of fact, I have mastered the two-handed weapons fighting style. Your claymore, great swords, halberds, war glaives, you name it! Perhaps it is my turn to seek pupils now?
I have been so busy saving the day, though! Indeed, I became something of a hero in these strange and less civilized lands! Just the other day the entire Kingdom of Mercadia applauded and celebrated me, when I expelled a terrible villain from the realm. One Magnifique Empyrée or however he was called. Either way, an ennemi de l'État. I walked up to him and pointed Firebrand to his face, very menacing-like, then I said: "Wretched blaggard, begone! Lest you suffer my wrath!" Spoken with such passion, with such fervor, with such RADIANCE, the miscreant had no choice but to flee.
Good for him. I find no pleasure beating the elderly, but I shall spare no effort to vanquish evil. It is as they say: one can contain the fire, but not tame the flame. And I'm nothing but ablaze!
By the way, that sounded cool, did it not? "Wretched blaggard, begone! Lest you suffer my wrath!" I had been practicing it in front of the mirror for when the moment to recite it presented itself. I had considered "my ire" instead of "my wrath", but... I don't know. What do you think? Which sounds more heroic? More daring? More manly?
Ahh, so much to learn from you still, sire! I wish things could have been different and we weren't apart. If only THAT MAN hadn't decided, out of nowhere, to name my eldest sister, Josephine, his sole inheritor. The money, the manor, the farms, the money, the ships, the businesses, the money, even the vassals - she'll get all of it! ALL OF IT! Can you believe it? The fiend showed me the will himself! By his hand, Sir Julian, his hand! I still remember his words then. Goddess, how could I forget?
"Perhaps when you cease playing knight and accept you were born into Lorehaven aristocracy, then I might consider granting you a portion of the empire our forefathers built with their own calloused hands and the sweat of their faces! Boy, where did you go wrong? Living in pursuit of naught but pleasure and desire and beauty, and somehow I am to believe this is sacred by this Kabalidi of yours! Nonsense! If love and poetry were worth anything, bards would rule the world! Heed my words: you either take the blood in your veins seriously, as your sister, or you'll receive nothing from me! Did you hear me, Dominique? Nothing!"
Kabalidi! Unbelievable, he couldn't even get Her name right. Oh, woe is me! Though I am grateful for the friends I have and who care deeply and dearly for me, my well-being and my expenses incurred. I would not dream of asking you for money, sire. After all, as a hero and living legend, I suffer no necessity here.
But, considering how Firebrand is such a magical sword and, truly, really yours, I would not turn away a small (or even medium sized) sum for repairs. A loan! Yes, a loan! I will pay you back. Were I not such a good samaritan, throwing my treasures at the manifold paupers of this land, then maybe I wouldn't find myself in such a predicament. Ahh, the practice of good deeds jades a man so!
I shall await your reply with utmost anxiety and longing.
Your disciple and your best friend forever,
Dominique Beaureguard
Knight of Kamalini
Hero of Mercadia