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Kai
Star
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2009
Count Thomas Worthington was not a perfect man. One of his most telling flaw is that he likes to smoke one cigar to many each day, once in the before leaving his manor, once after lunch, and when the mood strikes him, one at night after bedding his wife. Tonight was one of those nights when the mood did indeed struck him. A month ago, a particularly shrewd business decision led to an opportunity for his family enterprise and that opportunity was seized at just the right ammount of time, resulting in Worthington and Sons monopolizing goods coming in from the far south, beyond the emerald seas. He celebrated, first with alcohol, then with a brief tussle with his beautiful wife (one that left him and him alone sated), and now with one more cigar, Kosvaran made, the most expensive kind in the continent.
"We are to hold a ball" He told his wife without even looking at her form. He was sitting by the half-opened window, letting the puffs of white smoke exit their room and into the cold cold mid-autumn night. He was already clothed, finding it in poor taste to be naked when one does not need to be. "At the end of the month, to commemorate our new Far South venture. Be sure to mark the day in the calendar"
He went silent, taking in one long drag of his cigar, letting it swirl in his mouth. Thomas considered smoking cigar an art, certainly not for those with unrefined tastes. He blew the smoke out, like mist, savoring the flavor till the very end.
"There is a man, Iskander Azani" He spoke again after the silence "He is the lastborn son of the dynasty that controls the mines in the far south. I suppose you could call him a prince, if he was not a savage, but he is, they all are". He shook his head, it was always apparent that like most men of his station, Thomas did not particularly find foreigners endearing, much less one from beyond the emerald seas. They had dark skin and speak in odd melodic tongue, if it wasn't for his kind, they would probably still live in dark abodes with open fire instead of gaslight.
"I want you to prepare a gown, something I would not be ashamed of." said Thomas, slowly standing up from his seat and returning to bed. "It would be a much more productive use of your time than this odd fancy you have for swordsmanship". He scoffed, dropping to bed with a heavy thud.
"Swordsmanship...In this day and age of guns. Useless romanticism I say"
"We are to hold a ball" He told his wife without even looking at her form. He was sitting by the half-opened window, letting the puffs of white smoke exit their room and into the cold cold mid-autumn night. He was already clothed, finding it in poor taste to be naked when one does not need to be. "At the end of the month, to commemorate our new Far South venture. Be sure to mark the day in the calendar"
He went silent, taking in one long drag of his cigar, letting it swirl in his mouth. Thomas considered smoking cigar an art, certainly not for those with unrefined tastes. He blew the smoke out, like mist, savoring the flavor till the very end.
"There is a man, Iskander Azani" He spoke again after the silence "He is the lastborn son of the dynasty that controls the mines in the far south. I suppose you could call him a prince, if he was not a savage, but he is, they all are". He shook his head, it was always apparent that like most men of his station, Thomas did not particularly find foreigners endearing, much less one from beyond the emerald seas. They had dark skin and speak in odd melodic tongue, if it wasn't for his kind, they would probably still live in dark abodes with open fire instead of gaslight.
"I want you to prepare a gown, something I would not be ashamed of." said Thomas, slowly standing up from his seat and returning to bed. "It would be a much more productive use of your time than this odd fancy you have for swordsmanship". He scoffed, dropping to bed with a heavy thud.
"Swordsmanship...In this day and age of guns. Useless romanticism I say"