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Richard Laskey grinned around his unlit cigar as he carefully laid the stack of garments across the tailor's counter and dropped a handful of coins into the gnome's outstretched fingers. "I'd like them cleaned and pressed by tomorrow, if that's possible. There will be extra in it for you if you can do it." His voice was lightly accented Gilnean, slightly gravelly, but with a noble air to it. The gnome gave him a tired smile and nodded once. "I think we can handle that sir." "Excellent, thank you!" Richard smiled and accepted the claim ticket from the gnome, quickly stuffing it into his breast pocket and turning to walk unhurriedly out of the tailor shop. He did enjoy having clean, nice clothes. It was one of the few things to link him back to his former, brief tenure as a baron and patron of the harvest in Gilneas. He had presided over exactly two harvests after his father had died, passing the family holdings on to him. He had been preparing for his third harvest season around the same time that the worgen curse befell his nation, and the wall came crashing down to the unrelenting march of the Forsaken. He let out a brief sigh for old times, before shaking his head to clear it, preferring to think of new opportunities instead of old pains. As he stepped out of the shop's archway, a small panther cub detached itself from the shadows curling around the side of the building and nuzzled his leg before falling in, padding along in-step with him. "Are you ready to head home, Little Grace? Grace mewed. Richard smiled at the cub and began making his way down the street. It was getting a little late to make the trip back to Darnassus, and he had his clothes to pick up in the morning anyway, so he decided to return to the Sword guild hall instead and bunk there for the night. Besides, he just might catch another glimpse of the pretty, curious young woman he had met during his visit to the city this week. He had spoken with her twice now, and both times had been a pleasant experience. She had even agreed to join him on a trip to Darnassus, the thought of pouring through the old volumes there seeming to intrigue her. Richard smiled to himself again. Yes, it was far more pleasant to think about the present than the past.