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Post by Flint Aerstone on Jul 6, 2012 21:52:33 GMT -5
It was about midday, perhaps a bit after noon, when Flint finished his lunch and decided to head over to his living space. The dining room was rather empty and he was waited upon half-heartedly by a couple of servants. After he had finished the meal, they whipped away the dishes and left him to his own devices. It was nothing special. The servants in the house were not his, but instead his older brother's. He himself didn't have any servants and was satisfied that some of his brother's would service him to some degree. While they were ordered to take care of the rather useless Viscount, most of them did not treat him properly when his brother, the Duke, wasn't present. Some of the bolder ones didn't even address him like a noble. "Master Aerstone," they said. "is the title of the Master of the house."
The lack of respect he got didn't really upset him. He was just glad that he was allowed to even stay on the estate. If his brother hadn't taken pity on him, he would be out in the streets, let alone having servants. As long as he was fed, clothed, and could pursue his hobbies, he didn't have anything to complain about. His brother seemed to be too occupied with work and Flint barely saw him anymore.
Making his way to his place, Flint crossed over the exceedingly large courtyard of the estate. A length of fencing could be seen snaking across the edge of the place, with the occasional guard stationed at their posts. As for the mansion, it was huge. Flint had left the main building, which was where Flint's brother lived and worked and where Flint could go eat. His living quarters were half the estate away, smaller and on the edge of the place. Looking at the significantly smaller, but still rather opulent building, Flint opened the door and headed in.
There really wasn't anything Flint wanted to do in the early afternoon except enjoy a bit of music. Seeing the clear weather outside, he thought that maybe he'd enjoy playing his flute out in the gardens. Humming a tune, Flint opened his cabinet to get his flute's velvet case. However, when the cabinet door was opened, the case was no where to be found! Panicking, Flint began to tear open his room. He ducked under his bed, checked his desk, pulled all his books from his bookshelf, but the case and the flute couldn't be found. "What happened?" he asked himself. "Where could it have gone?" Feeling like on the verge of tears, the noble ran outside and grabbed the nearest servant.
"My flute! Have you seen my flute?" he asked frantically. The servant shook him off and gave him an odd look before walking away. "Wait! No! Come back!" he called, but the servant kept walking, ignoring him. Clutching his head, Flint didn't know what to do. The silver flute was his most prized possession and for it to just disappear was like starving him. He paced about, footsteps pounding one after another. FInding his way to the fence, he grabbed onto it, and peered through the bars. "What if it's out there?" he whimpered to himself. "It'd be impossible to find."
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jul 6, 2012 23:17:34 GMT -5
Amri had always been good at finding jobs. All he had to do was say he was in town and soon enough he'd be getting messages saying that they had somebody they wanted him to take care of. And getting paid in a healthy sum of gold? Nothing bad to it. But every once in awhile, Amri liked to take a little entrepeneuial enterprise of his own, and rather than wait for a job to happen, he'd make the job happen. It shook things up and change was the spice of life and kept things interesting for him. He needed to be challenged, and nothing had been hard recently so now he was his own employer.
He'd heard things about this guy, the viscount who did nothing and so didn't have his own estate and lived with his older brother. How pathetic. But what it gave him was an opportunity. He doubted this viscount would be trained in anyway and the place where he lived was less guarded than the main building. Surely the older brother would pay to have his brother returned. And if he didn't? Amri could try out different techniques on this guy and use him as a human dummy. It was a win-win situation. Now all he had to do was get the guy and get him back to camp.
The estate was easy enough to find. He walked up the road on the other side of the fence that marked the edge of the property. Only a few guards were out, but maybe he wouldn't even have to face them. He hopped over the fence at a corner near the house that belonged to the viscount, shattered a window, and slipped inside...only to find it empty. He cursed under his breath. He'd been hoping he'd just find him lounging in his home where it'd be easiest to grab him from, but oh well, he could go to greater lengths. And now was a great time to leave his letter on the table, the one that said something along the lines of “If you wanted to see your brother alive again, leave 1000 gold pieces at the pub you visit on Friday evenings in three days time.” Something like that. But Amri didn't know, he couldn't read or write. Yuliya had written it for him.
It was then he heard the wails of a man outside and he peeked out the window. He seemed to be looking for something. A smirk came to Amri's face as he slipped out the way he'd come and back onto the road. What was he yelling about again? A flute? And that was when his foot kicked something on the ground and he did indeed see a flute. This day was just getting better and better. He knelt down to pick it up and strutted over to the man...no, the boy standing on the other side of the fence and looking pathetically out. “Excuse me, is this yours?” he asked with a winning smile.
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Post by Flint Aerstone on Jul 8, 2012 14:10:31 GMT -5
Just as Flint thought he was on the edge of all despair, he saw someone come up to him on the other side of the fence. It was a charming young man, who didn't seem noble, but had quite a unique feeling to him. What was even more miraculous that this man had a flute in his hands. Not just any flute, but his own silver flute! A look of joy quickly spread across his previously gloomy face.
"Sir! Kind sir! Why yes, that is my flute!" he exclaimed, arms trying to extend through the gaps of the fence to express his gratitude. It could only be a kind person to find his flute and return it so graciously. It was almost like he had lost his soul and someone just came and put it back in him! When his brothers and parents used to warn him about strangers from outside, he was confused and scared. They'd always say that others would want to kidnap him and do all sorts of bad things to him because he was a noble. But no, clearly this unfamiliar man was of a kind nature and there was nothing in Flint's opinion toward him other than admiration.
"How can I ever repay you?" the Viscount asked, hands still squirming between the bars. "You brought back what I treasured most right when I thought I'd never see it again," he added rather dramatically. "Oh, but I don't know how I should return the favor," he murmured, shrinking back. "You see, even though I'm a Viscount, I don't really have any money. My brother keeps it all, you see. I'm quite useless, so I don't really do anything. I'm sorry that I can't give you anything actually, but I'll try to do something or anything in my power..."
As he spoke, his words went by rather quickly since he was also thinking to himself out loud at the same time, trying to assess his own situation. His fingers intertwined and he twiddled them nervously, realizing how much he could-or acutally, how much he couldn't do in terms of payment. Embarrassing as it was, the flute was still in the stranger's hands and it would be rude to ask for it without it being offered or without him being able to offer something in return. Anyways, the man, however virtuous he was, seemed quite strong and Flint was having a hard time thinking of something that would appease the stranger.
"You, you know," he stuttered a bit, trying to keep his tongue in check. "If there's anything you think I could do for you, please tell me, because I'm kind of, you know, at a loss right now." And with that, he chuckled nervously and looked at the stranger hopefully.
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Post by Amri Dukhkin' on Jul 9, 2012 13:44:38 GMT -5
Oh...dear. This boy really was a gullible buffoon. “Kind sir”? Amri didn't think he'd ever been called that in his entire life. He even dropped his act slightly and gave him an incredulous look. Amri was about half a foot taller than him, obviously stronger...and just...rough all over. His hands were callused and scars were all over his arms and then there was his sword that was bigger than pretty much every other sword a man carried. No one in their right mind would think he looked like a “kind sir.” He was a barbarian mercenary who lived off the land! This guy sure had lived a sheltered life. Not even the smallest children of his tribe would've been so trusting towards a stranger.
But this was great, it made his whole job much easier. Hell, this guy probably wouldn't even realize he was being kidnapped until Amri had him tied up back at camp...or maybe he wouldn't even realize unless Amri told him straightforward. 'Hey, I just kidnapped you.' Amri just had to do a little bit of acting. So Amri worked to keep his eyes light an friendly and fought hard against his mouth forming his trademark smirk. He was just some...knight of the realm who went about doing good deeds and was happy to help nobles...the dumb, useless bastards.
“Oh no, it's quite fine,” Amri said in a voice that was not his own. He wouldn't actually ever be able to say that to a noble. If he hadn't been in the process of kidnapping this man but in the same situation, he would've laughed at him and chucked the flute a mile away, so it pained him to have to pretend this way. But it was all for good, and it wouldn't have to be for long. “Well...” he trailed off, pretending to be unsure of what he said next, “There is one thing you could do for me. Come to the other side of the fence and follow me down this road,” he asked politely. The longer he could put off having this guy panic on him, the better...but it wouldn't last for long. It wasn't his style to return his victims completely unscathed. He bit back a smirk and put on a king, thoughtful face.
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