Name: Dorian Beau Greaves IV
Age: 20
Height: 6'1
Personality: Dorian grew up isolated from children and those even relatively close to his age. Being surrounded by men double his age has matured him, especially in terms of obedience. Despite his valiance and revered obsequious behavior in his training to become an outstanding prince, he has always been spoiled. By furtively degrading his servants, Dorian had a poor reputation with those other than his mentors and family. Even so, he detested his mentors, viewing them as incompetent or unworthy. Dissatisfied, Dorian sought a better mentor and an even better companion.

The Eastern wind tangled through his chestnut hair, bringing the scent of the salty ocean with it as it caressed his face. He could hear the sounds of the ruthless waters smashing against the rocks that made up the coast and feel the water droplets as they rained down on him. After so long of living in his father's castle, he knew all of the secret places that scattered the fort. His favorite would always be the little cave on the shores where he could skip as many rocks as he desired and abandon his duties as a prince, even only for a short while.

After tossing a few rocks, Dorian quickly grew bored. He was expecting his father's soldiers to return from their expedition. He hated being ignorant to the affairs of the outside world, but also felt it was much more luxurious to remain in the comforts of his castle. He was not a stranger to the stories that came with the outside world. The tales of starving and suffering people amused him more than concerned him. He had seen them himself on the very rare occasions he ventured outside the walls. He greatly admired the hardworking citizens that lived an honest trade.

Unlike the citizens Dorian admired, he never worked for his position as he was born into it. Studying arithmetic, Latin, swordsmanship, and etiquette was his schedule throughout the days. While he lived comfortably, there was a war raging on outside the fort's walls. The minimal time he had with his father turned into none and only left Dorian bitter. His training became more vigorous and draining, but Dorian did not complain once. He was as obedient as a dog, but revered as any prince should be. He was, after all, the next-in-line to the throne.

Content with his time in his secret hiding place, Dorian rolled up his sleeves which were wet. The prince returned to the castle, wondering if one of the servants was tasked with the feat of finding him. Or perhaps they gave up, seeing how Dorian had a terrible reputation with his servants. He treated them harshly, degrading them as well. What used to be harmless pranks as a child eventually matured into cruel misdemeanors. Testing his servant's capabilities, he often pushed them to their limits. With his father busy, they only became more frequent. Nonetheless, his reputation among his mentors and peers remained spotless.

Name: Abel Anthony Val-jean
Age: 19
Height: 5'9
Personality: Abel grew up in a wonderful household after his mother married into wealth. Before hand he had lived like another other peasant which made him humble yet also a hard-worker who always yearned for more. Abel can be hot-headed at times but with training from his step-father as well as the archer which took him as a student, he can keep a cool head. The man is very kind and when he does not have to cold and hard, he will help those in need. This being said he is human, which means often - even in war- he will help those he thinks are in danger. This was the reason he was captured. A member of his group had been hit and when he returned to help, he was ambush. He was in one of the high ranks and it took four soldiers to get him under control. It advise not to kill him as it seemed he was contented to a very wealthy family in the opposing side, which he could be used as a bargaining chip. Currently he is help and often taken to the prince, his intelligence appearing when informed that he had beaten many of the guards at chess as well as other games.

---

How long had it been since he was taken? Why would they keep him in the home of the king for so long? Either way the young blonde was woken up once more by the guard. The man determine to beat the prisoner at chess for once. Abel sighed softly and began to play with the man once again, within a few moves he had won and the guard simply muttered about Abel must have cheated to win so many times. The young man ignored it though, not paying much attention as another guard came in. Abel's present had been spread around, servants whispering and gossiping about the young archer.

The young man ignored the guard for awhile as the man tried to figure out how Abel had won so quickly. Deep blue eyes staring out upon the water before him. Even in this tower he was still allowed to see the beauty and of the world and truthfully he was more than happy to have some time here rather than on the field. He could still remember the warm blood spilling through is fingers and the smell of metal in his nostrils as blood and metals filled the air. He was injured from the knight who had been able to get a blow on his arm, the bandaged wrapped around his left forearm and the pain shooting through now and again. Scars littered his body from the past and recent hand-to-hand combat encounters.

The guard was called away, to look for the prince which the man could only groan softly before agreeing and leaving to find the brat. Being left alone the young man was allowed to reflect on his life. It was funny to think he still ended up behind bars, how many other had ended back from his childhood home. Even after being taken from the streets with his mother and being put in a wealthy family to be tutored and trained to be but the utmost loyal subject as well as a well groom gentlemen. He was very loyal to the crown which once had been his own enemy and before the war a very clean boy who always wore his suits and groomed hair. Now he sat on his cot, hair a mess, face still dirty and now wearing plain trousers and a loose, ripped shirt. His leather vest, gloves, and padding taken away in his capture.

Once the prince was found, the guard began walking him back into the castle, talking between each other as if the prince was not here.

"...he keeps winning! I can't understand how - I swear he must be cheating, there is no way he could win so many times in a row or so quickly. Its unnatural!"

"Perhaps he is a witch--or you could be horrible at chess."

Far in the distance Dorian could make out the shape of a few guards. Just how long was he out for? He didn't notice any carriages or guards entering the castle, but he was also far from the castle to even see anyone go in. The prince was curious as to why a few guards were sent to fetch him so early. Usually he would be back in time, so there must be something interesting back inside the castle or he had simply lost track of time. He was prone to do so once in a blue moon. He remembered when he had first returned late as a child and discovered that a troop of guards were sent out to search for him.

With the sound of splashes coming from the shore, Dorian droned out the guards' conversation. Knowing that most of them rambled on about boring topics, such as the wine they smuggled or the whores they bedded. But upon hearing the words "chess" and "win", Dorian suddenly became interested. Just who is at the castle he wondered. Having an entertainer come by isn't likely due to the war, so perhaps a relative? Or maybe it was one of the knights? The last option would be a prisoner, but he would be highly disappointed. Stooping so low to play with an enemy-the thought disgusted him. But, if he really was as good as the guards made him out to be, maybe seeing him in action wouldn't hurt. Knowing the guards were deeply invested in their talk, he figured he’d think to himself on the way back.

It wasn't until he was inside the fort that he felt excitement bubble up. Staying inside his room reading and studying was entertaining to some degree, but only for so long. Then there was his daily training, and day-by-day he was losing his already thin patience. With the small number of people who knew how to play chess, Dorian had already bested their skills and strategy. He was sure to provoke the guards that played with him, making sure no one was letting him win for the sole reason that he was the prince.

As the men escorted Dorian to his bedroom, they informed the boy that dinner would be ready within the hour. The guard spoke about the prisoner, it seemed the boy would be taken downstairs to make his own food.

Abel was chained once allowed out of his cage and was walked all the way to the kitchen where he was allowed to grab meats and some fruits - being of a noble's son, he must be treated kindly unless to be found out and causing a bigger problem for the kingdom. The blonde was silent as he chopped his meat, the water boiling and fruits already boiling in the water. He knew how to cook from years of having to cook well his mother worked. The young man watched as the guards speak between one another. When they weren't paying attention the young man slipped something into his soup, they wouldn't notice and he would be able to use it later on to see if he was able to escape. As he finished everything up he waited his hands and waited for the guards to do something.

Being taken, he started up the stairs, a few maids hurrying and commenting on the prince. He had yet to meet the royal, Abel had been told he would meet the prince sooner or later, seeing that he would turn into one of his victims of his so called "pranks."

The guards didn't leave his side until he entered his room. It was there that he saw the
outfit he had already planned out on his bed, knowing his father found it distasteful for the prince to wander in dirty or wet clothes. It was a nice navy blue overcoat with golden buttons, along with his tan vest. His black breeches were untouched, but his muddied shoes were replaced with a clean leather set. Dorian always dressed to impress, but there never was anyone to impress in an empty castle. Adjusting his cravat, the prince waltzed out of his room.

It was only a matter of time before he stumbled upon another servant that was wiping down a window. She was unsuspecting of the prince, and was startled when he called out to her. She denied ever seeing a guest, but it took a little bit of persuasion for the maid to spill her guts. Knowing his father didn’t want him interacting with a prisoner, he knew better than to test the prince’s curiosity and persistence.

Going down the stairs, Dorian peered over the mezzanine. Barely within his sight he saw what looked to be a man being escorted by some guards. There was no denying that that was the prisoner. Unfortunately, he can’t march in and introduce himself while the guards were around. He would have to wait for the prisoner to be in his cell before the guards would even think of letting him near. His father, the king, often took precautions quite seriously, especially in regards of his son’s safety.

Abel finished making his meal before pulled and told to return back to his cell. The man groaned softly and grabbed one more fruit before being forced to return on his march back to the cell. The young man "accidentally" elbowed one of the guards in the side before hurrying off in front of the men and beginning up the stairs with his bowl of meat and fruits in hand. He was not to be harmed in anyway, which meant no markings were allowed to show up on him or else there would be a heavy punishment. The young man allowed himself to be pushed into the cell, stumbling in and barely keeping the meal from spilling. The guards took their seats and spoke to one another, Abel not bothering them and able to eat after hiding the hilt of a broken knife under his blanket. It would be used with some other items he had acquired from his other times allowed out of this cell.

The young man wasn't watched too carefully, being thought to be safe since he was disarm. Abel turned his back to the men, taking his time to eat well the guards played chess.

Later in the night a guard left and the young man was watched by a older guard. Soon he left Abel alone, having to go and refill his lantern with more oil. This usually took some time and Abel was able to check the items he acquired: Hilt of a knife, deadly flower which after crushed would be easily slipped into drinks, a sewing needle from a woman he "bumped" into, and broken glass which he was still thinking of how to use. Everything neatly under his bed and kept wrapped in torn clothing to ensure he was not harm by them. More importantly the flower and the glass.

"Hmm... now only if I knew when the best time would be..." he whispered to himself as he hid the hilt of the knife with the other items. The moon light his only source of light.

[double post-sorry >//<]