Yes... It would be easy to assume that they've been betrayed by someone from deep inside... Yet, at the same time, this is a world of magic. If they have someone like this man-bear Cedrick who Henri remembers scried the assassination attempt on Fredricus' life on the way here, or like Antigone who scries a myriad of scenarios every passing moment... Realistically, would they ever know?

Henri scratched the back of his neck, and then raised a hand to catch Anderson's attention. "Did you recover any other items? Could you please just bring all the evidence in here? We'll review it as we walk." Then, back to the other three. "Are you planning to revive a dead horse? That aside, let's follow the blood closest to the prince's scent and see how far it takes us."

"Wai' whut? Revive?... " Cedar boggled. The idea of bringing ANYTHING back from being actually DEAD-DEAD was... He could not wrap his head around it. He could not wrap his head around doing that to some poor critter that already had a terrible death to begin with- The idea was just flooring to him.

"I thought ya was gunna track down the ones as survived or summat-- They won' be 'at far off-- Prolly all tagether 'nyhow-- Horses likes to pal around ya know. Safety in numbers."

Then more earnestly--

".... How you gunna talk ta a DEAD horse inna firs' place? -- Secon' thought, I dun wanna know...(only thing a dead horse 'good for is eatin'..)"

He pushed the repulsive thought from his mind. He would DEFINITELY have to talk to his dad about this when he got back...

"I thinks its a good idear ta be trackin that dumb shit as likely got a arrow stuck in 'im, afore it rains or sommat, and we lose the scent. The horses as run off might be able ta tell yas where they was stabled at afore they got rode here. Worth a shot-- I CAINT be the ONLY one as can ask em a simple 'nuff question, can I?"

Well the estimated time was completely inaccurate then, ranging from "immediately" to "never". Yvonne wasn't really magically inclined to know. So gotta make every second counts. As for digging through the hedge? Not sure what she'd find there, personally, but the mercenary shrugged and knelt next to the hedge before carefully trying to find anything.

....and tried. And tried.

"Is there something I'm supposed to see here or are ya pulling my legs?" She had even parted and poked at the greenery to no avail. Anything further would've damaged it, and that's probably gonna attract more eyes here.

She walked with Cedar as he was interrogating the animals. Listening quietly to their conversation, she was curious about what he could find from these animals. Again assuming that he would not find much, perhaps she could persuade him to instead try to track the prince. After Cedar had interrogated the dogs' Matilda spoke up, “What information did the dogs and birds tell you? Where does what you found lead?” She felt stupid saying such a sentence, but this was the only lead they had so far. Matilda scanned the area for any other clues.

Turning to face Anderson and the others, “These bastard must have been watching the prince’s every move. Finding the right opportunity to strike. Or perhaps there is someone in the court working with the kidnappers.” There was a possibility that someone in the court had given the kidnappers the prince’s schedule. Or those inside of the court were a part of the plot. “I have seen this arrow before, it is specially made by a blacksmith in Rorthgaard a few miles from here.” She wondered if the kidnappers had gone to this blacksmith for supplies. Solomon had a similar theory to Matilda, and she worried that this theory could be true.

Crouching down once again placing her armoured hand on the ground, closing her eyes while moving her hand through the trampled grass. Breathing softly, she mentally tried to connect the pieces of what had happened. Noticing that the footprints were heading further into the forest, she turned towards Anderson. “Let’s not waste any more time we need to move quickly.”

[NPC Post]

"We didn't find anything belonging to the kidnappers, sans the arrows." Given enough time they'd probably try recover that too, but perhaps going into a prolonged shootout wasn't in their plan and they ended up firing more than it's possible to clean up.

Anderson really wished he had more things to show, but there had been minimum development for the past five days.

"With all due respect ma'am, the timing coincides too much with the attack on the king." Interjected the squire. They didn't wait and strike at the most opportune time. This was a coordinated strike. "Rorthgaard? I'll have people look into it."

And at the order of moving out, Anderson took out a rolled up parchment map from a tube. It depicted an area of the forest, the map itself a precious thing yet as it stood it's filled with scribbled markings. A section of it was lightly greyed out with a pencil, and there's an X somewhere near the edge of it.

"We've combed the greyed area so far." The marking splayed like stubby zig-zag roots, indicating the trails left behind by the kidnappers. Two of them were much longer than the rest. "These two were duds, we found the boot in here. They're not making it easy to follow either."

Henri exhaled. It should be noted that he really does not need to breathe, but this is exasperating. Sure took Matilda her sweet time to speak up. So these arrows are special after all? Additionally, where did that map come from?

This guy... Had he not the initiative to show us that from the start?

Henri at least felt a relief that Matilda looked steeled to pursue these footprints further and instead leaving Rorthgaard to these minions, but is everyone glossing over the fact that Cedrick mentioned about the escaped horses?

Henri raised a hand. "Matilda. Let's split from here. Cedrick and I will track down the escaped horses." If it's as the man-bear says, he could talk to them and find out where they're stabled, and the horses might be saddled up with important items as well. This endeavor shouldn't be a problem with the both of them. Their speeds could easily outpace any horse.
"Mind giving Cedrick something that carries your scent? Also," Henri taps Matilda's shoulder, casting Core Spreading on her shoulderplate. A streak of cyan lightning appears briefly on it. "I'll be able to hear you when you're nearby."

A small pool of molten iron wells up from Henri's hand, preparing to drop them sparingly on the ground as breadcrumbs.

Chōnan kept an eye on the demon fox until leaving on his range. He remain his position nearby Jazdia without being an obstacle on her. As the time running out, he decided to help Jazdia with the clues. He approached Yvonne and said. "Milady, I shall give you a hand." She paused for a while and nodded.

Her identity is familiar by him despite she doesn't know him back. Adventurer's Guild assassins spreaded rumors about her and also they had admiration with her work. Also, an exchange letter between him and the prince back then about being kept mention her name, possibly his childhood crush may say.

@Pakde

The hedge seems to be a good route for the victim to fled off from the assassin, maybe he can find something around under the range of the area that Miss Jazdia's mentioned. He removed his shoes and attached it on his sliding line of his bag. Finding some luck by using his sense of touch of his bare feet inside the grassy yard.

“I see, thank you for the information. It will surely help with documenting the events here. May your fallen comrades feast in the hall of the gods for all eternity.” With those words Kaito finished up the interrogation of the young guard. The fox went on to talk to some of the other guards but they all gave similar answers for the ones that were around during the attack.

There were some points in the testimony from the guard that the kitsune found intriguing. First and foremost was the point that all guards seem to refer to the assailants as Mecheans and yet the official report never stated that fact. The kitsune assumed that the authors of the official report also questioned the guards on site and yet somehow omitted their testimony about the assailants being Mecheans from the report. Did the guards not share that information or was it kept out on purpose? A question that certainly needed to be answered.

There were some more details from the guard’s testimony that did not match up with the report. The report never talked about any casualties among the guards, also the report explicitly stated that the king was around till the smoke went off and yet the guard mentioned that madame Mathilda immediately escorted the king back to the palace. Also the guard spoke about the assassins disappearing into thin air while the report mentioned them escaping in the crowds. There were too many discrepancies between the testimony of the guard and the official report that drew suspicion. Someone seemed to be lying.

After finishing up the questioning of the guards Kaito walked back to Jazdia. For a moment the kitsune played with the idea of calling her by a nickname again but decided that he had infuriated the elf enough already. Pushing her buttons a bit more would be asking for more trouble than he could handle. ”Miss Yazdia, got a minute or are you busy?” Spoke the fox with the sweetest smile he could muster.

”Who wrote the official report? There are a lot of differences between what the guards told me and what was written down. It’s pretty suspicious in my opinion. We might have to look into that a bit further.” Spoke Kaito in a more serious tone. He paused a bit before he continued to speak. “The little pipsqueak guard over there had some interesting quotes about what the assassins shouted. Apparently one of them yelled death to the Marauder-king. Do you think that the Mecheans are blaming Fredericus for the shit his grandpa pulled? Or does the beloved king of Kindeance has some dark secrets?”

As Kaito was informing the elf on the further differences between the testimony of the guards and the guards he brought up one more subject. ”The guard mentioned that someone shouted ‘By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!’ after the smoke went up and just before a blinding flash that made the last assassins disappear into thin air. It seems that the Black Serpant guild might be playing some role in this.”

"All right, move aside you two!"

Jazdia winced, trying to hide her frustration as she leaned forward and rustle the hedge. She didn't even use her power to find what they were supposed to be looking for.

Buried inside the hedgerows was a fletched shaft almost broken in two pieces. Its head telescoped inward, damaged to the point it was more like a piece of blunt metal, a sign of a heavy impact. Jazdia looked at the surrounding elevation and pictured where the archer was supposed to be. If the first archer was an amateur. The other one seemed to be more... professional?

"This arrow was fired from a full-sized long bow and gained full momentum before hitting Matilda's shield." mused the elf, muttering the conjecture to anyone who was willing to listen. "It could only be done with sufficient range. Was that from the rampart on the left side? Or the terrace near the mausoleum? One thing for sure though, It was not something you can shot in the crowd."

Before anyone could answer that, Kaito rejoined them.

”Miss Yazdia, got a minute or are you busy?”

Surprisingly Jazdia did not correct the mispronunciation of her name, something she usually took very seriously. "Not at all. What did they tell you?"

”Who wrote the official report? There are a lot of differences between what the guards told me and what was written down. It’s pretty suspicious in my opinion. We might have to look into that a bit further.” Spoke Kaito in a more serious tone. He paused a bit before he continued to speak. “The little pipsqueak guard over there had some interesting quotes about what the assassins shouted. Apparently one of them yelled death to the Marauder-king. Do you think that the Mecheans are blaming Fredericus for the shit his grandpa pulled? Or does the beloved king of Kindeance has some dark secrets?”

"Not as dark as those Tretagor monarchs during their heyday, but Kindeance was a militaristic country a century ago. The usual rape, pillage, and burn were one of their modus operandi. One hundred years was quite a long time for a country to change its ways, but not long enough to mend the scars, and sometimes it festers and I think that's how..."

After what seemed to be a full minute of troubling thoughts, she continued.

I don't know who wrote that. Could be Fredricus's spymaster. It was very common for a report to be written anonymously. Suspicious? Not really at the first glance since that kind of documentation usually redacts a number of crucial detail for political reasons." And that was why CSA was so good at their job, they didn't have to deal with such hogwashery on daily basis.

"Still though, if the missing details are in a very abnormal number, there might be a schemer." Jazdia chuckled. "Classic. But I don't think Fred was that stupid to let potential usurpers any closer to his neck. So, tell me the glaring differences you've found so far."

Kaito then explained about the casualties being redacted from the report, and Fredricus's involvement was somewhat embellished. The usual stuff. The part about Meche and the origin of those assailants was interesting, to say the least. So someone was trying to stir up the hearts of the people. For the better or for the worse.

"What else can you tell me?"

”The guard mentioned that someone shouted ‘By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!' after the smoke went up and just before a blinding flash that made the last assassins disappear into thin air."

"Another omitted details huh..."

"Yes, It seems that the Black Serpant guild might be playing some role in this.”

The theory that someone inside his circle was betraying him sounded even more plausible now. Jazdia approached the mausoleum, trying to see what secret it contained, but her eyes failed her.

"Warding runes?" he scoffed, finding it ironic how ancient runes, one of the subjects she despised so much during her college days was proven relevant to not only ward off evil spirits but also be able to repel her power. "I Guess Serensiel was evil after all."

So she diverted her attention around the space that was supposed to be the mausoleum's interior and found there was a passage down there, almost ruined and caved, but definitely still passable. Suddenly everything seemed to make more sense.

"After the failed attempt, they threw the smoke to cover their escape... or someone messed up and throw it prematurely, causing the other assassins to abandon their mission and retreat."

"So that was how they escaped. Pretty clever huh?"

She scanned again, this time around the twelve monuments. Whoever buried down there had been reduced to ashes, leaving empty stone caskets and other funerary goods. There was no hidden passage from any of those graves, so that left mausoleum as the prime access, and although she could not examine the interior, she concluded that the passage was linked to it somehow.

"Where did that tunnel lead to? Unfortunately, it was beyond the range of my empowered sight."
"How did they gain access to the catacombs? It was unimaginable to leave such an important building unlocked."
"Did they steal the key? No... Fredricus would have called a manhunt, secrecy be damned."

Yvonne stared with bafflement as the elf seemingly reached in and took out a broken arrow from the hedge as if she knew that it was there from the get go. What. How. The mercenary scratched behind her ears, still having a little bit of decency left to look sheepish at her failure.

"How'd you even- nevermind." She shook her head, more than willing to put that little hiccup behind. "Arrows shot from a longbow would punch into a standard shield. Wouldn't put it past Mattie to wield a slab of iron, but this should be a ceremonial event." Glancing around to take in the surrounding, Yvonne visualized where would one be if they were to stage an ambush. Not much spots, and what's available weren't that good, but passable. "Distance isn't an issue, I know men that could pull trick shots with longbows. They just need an elevated vantage points... I'd put archers on top of the mausoleum if I have the time, but otherwise they'll just need to scramble on top of the tombstones."

Definitely not a common skillset, but training someone to perform archery under high pressure wasn't exactly a difficult prospect. Time-consuming, yes, but not difficult. She'd wager that horseback shooting was higher on the difficulty ceiling.

---

The longer Solomon remained at the forest, uncovering what the guards already knew. It is true that some time had passed between the incident and now. Perhaps it was enough for the scents to fade even for Cedar. Yet, with much of the evidence from the intrepid attack still present, the golden apple of progress lay just beyond the reach of the investigators. Solomon felt out of his element, as neither the injured nor the dead were present anymore. That possibility was one of the main reasons he continued. Since they had since been removed, buried, and not available, Solomon pondered different methods of uncovering the true trail.

“It was an idea. Not a popular one in more ways than one it seems.” said Solomon, dropping the idea of involving the horses, living or dead. The only true clue they had was Cedar eliminating the red herring trails in favor of the one lead by blood. A promising lead, but in the time it took for them to lead, that trail would only go so far. At least it could lead to a direction and maybe down a road. At least there, Solomon could direct the group the likely towns.

Another clue surfaced with Matilda recognizing the arrows Henri had collected. So far the arrows were the only thing the abductors left behind. Made in Rorthgaard. Solomon had been there several times, the smith Matilda had mentioned wasn’t world renown, but for the many who knew of him, his work was unmistakable. However, the village was only a few miles away. It would take a horse less than an hour to travel that distance, even if they rode straight avoiding the roads. At best, the information there would confirm the assassins may have passed through. Unless the bloodied trail led that way, it was best if Anderson’s men looked into it.

Solomon looked over the map Anderson had presented. His trackers had covered an extensive amount of ground, but there were still a couple paths left unchecked. “You managed to investigate half of them it seems. It may be too late to gather anything useful from the other trails at this rate. You have the arrows from Rorthgaard, a potential enemy informant at the castle, and the bloodied trail, which Cedar could lead us through. If its manpower you need, I can provide, as so long as it’s not a technical skill you require. Otherwise, I don’t see much more usefulness staying in the forest itself.”

"I dun' need anythung as smells like em' dipshits-- i's the dogs as needs at--- Yas can fin' a splotch er two o'er yonder... Not that yas can see it 'spose... If'n ya wants ta track the idjiots as napped the boy, I keen help with tellin' the dogs-- but I's agrees with the funny white man on thisa one." Cedar rumbled. "If'n we split up, we's can cover more ground. Miss Matilda keen take the doctor an' Mr Anderson an his dogs to chase down the idjiots-- This feller an' me can go track down the missin' horses. We kin catch up la'er."

Cedar paused for a moment, as if contemplating an impossible task, before attempting to emulate Anderson's whistle, and failing miserably. He tried again several times.

"Gull-darnit-- Mr Anderson, kin ya call the boys o'er agin? I ain't ne'er been able ta do 'at... --On accounta muh mouth looks like 'is-"

Cedar pointed to his face then opened his mouth wide, revealing a rather frightening compliment of very sharp, meat tearing teeth with gaps between them where they would meet when closed. There were differences with what a keen observer would identify as being 'properly bear'-- false molar surfaces lined the insides of the last 4 incisors, before the real molars, indicating his human parentage-- but in all other ways, that mouth was "Decidedly Bear", with a dark colored and corrugated roof, a long and slightly purple tongue, and a long narrow shape. It was decidedly not suited to whistling in any capacity.

Anderson made a bemused wince and shook his head, then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Once more the dogs bounded up in a jumble of excited bawling, drooling, and tail wagging.

"Your show Master Cedrick" chuckled the man with a smirk.

"Thank'ya kindly Mr Anderson" retorted Cedar with his own.

After a few minutes with the dogs looking between Cedar and Anderson confusedly, he led them off to various parts of the scene, pointing out the particular scent they should be tracking. Anderson knew they had picked it up when they made their characteristic 'alert bawling' and animated pouncing with false starts down the trail. They were indeed good boys, and had not been given the signal to track, but eagerly wanted to.

Satisfied that the dogs knew what to hunt down, Cedar walked back up to the congregation in that lumbering shuffle of his, with the dogs trotting behind. As he reached where Anderson and the others were standing, they made furtive looks and whimpers between Anderson and the area Cedar had indicated, amid tail wags and excited eyes.

"'ere-- At'll do it. I got's muh own trail ta follow, ifn' we gunna fin' dem horses."

Cedar smiled, and probably shouldn't have. It looked more like an aggressive display than a grin. Only the alert posture of his ears gave it away as something different, besides his body posture and chuckling.

" 'is Way Mister Henri!" he chuckled, swinging his big head in the direction of preferred travel. He had already scoped out a good portion of the scene, and between it and what he remembered of his interview with the bird, he had a good idea which way to go. The horse tracks would almost assuredly all re-converge into a single path at some point, but it would save time to take the most likely and most direct set of tracks, which headed West.

--------

(some time later)

--------

Cedar's tracking of the animals took a meandering path through the trees, then over a clearing beside a rather lovely lake. The horses were together, but spread out just enough to be little shits about being caught, grazing on the grass leisurely. They did not really seem to appreciate Cedar initially either, acting spooky and stupid-- taking off with snorts, flagged tails, and farts amid squealing neighs to trot away from him repeatedly before he managed to finally get though their thick dumb heads that he wasn't there to eat them. They were robust, if squat little animals (to his perspective anyway), between 1.1 and 1.6 meters to the tops of their backs. Far too small for somebody like him to ride-- but maybe Henri could use one.

Some of the animals had managed to get their saddles and other tack free of themselves-- tearing the straps that had held them on, via aggressive rubbing and 'clever' use of low lying tree limbs. Thankfully it was fairly conspicuous and easily located in or near the offending foliage. The saddles and gear that were still in place were encrusted in dried grass and mud, from where the animals had tried to roll in the soft earth near the lake. It would take a whole day for each saddle to get them clean again.

One of the horses was clearly the Venerer's, given its very different livery. Cedar was glad it had made it, and the horse itself was surprisingly happy that its 'person' had survived the frightening encounter. Cedar liked 'happy endings.'

It took a reasonably long time to rifle through the contents of 6 horses worth of saddle bags. Most of the contents were camping supplies and 'abduction kit'-- Ropes, cloth gags, and small bottles of a curious powder that made Cedar's nose tickle, before making him go nose-blind. Lots of sneezing and boogery snorts later, it slowly started to return, but the momentary disability worried and troubled him-- He worried that the dogs might run into such an obstacle. Perhaps it was for the best that the abductors had been cut off from their supply. Henri did not act like he found the sight of Cedar having a snotty sneeze attack at all amusing. If anything, he looked rather put off by it, and recoiled a bit when Cedar located, then proceeded to try and offer the last item he dug out of this latest bag.

Among the miscellaneous odds and ends of camping and abduction kit, there was a curious bit of parchment, emblazoned with a map with a curious X on it. The map depicted a lake, not unlike the one they were currently next to, with what looked like some ruins in a marsh to the south, with the ruins clearly indicated.

" 'ere-- *(SNORT)* -- 'Ave a look at 'is--"

Henri grabbed the map, cross-referenced it with the lake, and figured out their heading. This has to be where Young Master is kept, right? No... This is probably a mere meeting point at best. Five days removed from the incident, there's probably nothing left in it to check. It wouldn't quite hurt to look though, being this close by.
If there's any danger, he's confident in his own abilities. A bear of his size should be no slouch in combat either. Henri thinks of this, unknowing of Cedrick's age or actual combat experience.
"We should swing by it. Just us two. I don't quite feel like calling on Matilda and the others, they're far away at this point." At worst, they'd be hindrances that Henri would have to protect or struggle to coexist in battle with. At best, he'd have wasted their time for nothing, after already having agreed to split up.

Having already memorized the map due to his eidetic memory, he hands the map back to Cedrick and basically wills the items to sort themselves onto the mat that unfurled itself from previously being a saddle bag. Metals rolled on the right, and non-metals found themselves on the left. "We should sort all of this out first, though. Which one's yours, mine, or evidence. For starters," he grabs one of the small bottles of unknown powder. A potent irritant, seeing how affected Cedrick was by just a whiff of it. This should serve useful in the future, somehow.

A force of habit. Henri drank from his metal flask that he pulled from inside his jacket, remembering the lake and the possible moistness of the air near it and the eventual marsh.

"Distance isn't an issue, I know men that could pull trick shots with longbows. They just need an elevated vantage points... I'd put archers on top of the mausoleum if I have the time, but otherwise they'll just need to scramble on top of the tombstones."

"I don't think they were on the top of the mausoleum. But you are right. One archer stayed near its door, shooting at Fred effortlessly because nobody was there to guard it. One archer moved closer to ensure his arrow hit the mark, which wasn't served him well in the end. Four flankers came from the crowd, providing distraction and an element of surprise. It should had been a sound plan if someone didn't lose their nerve and throw the smoke, messing up the archer's aim. When they realized that Matilda and her lackeys were unmatched in melee combat and the King himself was no pushover, they retreated before the smoke dispersed and nobody at that time had any inkling on how and to where they escaped."

Jazdia wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Nobody huh?" She tried to bypass the runic warding again and could only see a little bit more of that door. Apparently, it was the classic Tretagorian locking mechanism where the door can only be opened by the key with identical runes. Now here was the neat part; it can be opened from the inside with a lever. An old-age design in case the beloved ones resurrected on the seventh day like ancient messiahs, or simply to minimize accidental entombment...

"So somebody was waiting for them behind the door, and the challenge code was 'By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!'"

Meanwhile at the front gate, an officer could be seen reprimanding his subordinate.


"You fool! There is no such thing as Helvetian Daily Horn!" lashed a blonde man wearing a decorated cuirass and iron gauntlets. His voice thundered like an old god described in an ancient manuscript, and rightfully so as a captain with power over his men. Tall and imposing, every aspect of his action bespoke absolute authority the guard in front of him looked like a child playing a tin man, and when his eyes fixed on the group, they glowed in immeasurable ire.

"I will see you at the brig!" he raised his index finger at that poor guard then stormed off.

His stompings on the paved path did very little to hide his exasperation with the situation, but the man tried to appear professional; His posture was straight, and his face showed no unnecessary emotion save the tranquil rage in his eyes. When Jazdia faced the man, he asked sternly:

"Good afternoon. May I insist you to explain your business in our sacred ground?"

Watch out, this sounded like a question that could earn you a one-way trip to Rascade dungeon if answered incorrectly.

Kaito watched patiently as Yvonne and Jazdia discussed the intricacies of archery. Apparently one of the assassins had been shooting arrows from close to the mausoleum at the king. What interested the fox more was the fact that the elf noticed that there was some sort of passageway under the mausoleum. If that was how the assassins got in and out, they had to find a way to get in the structure.

For a moment he inspected the lock and came to the swift conclusion that picking it would not be an easy task. The actual mechanism was very complex. Usually not the kind of lock you'd place on a mausoleum. Kaito judged that that trying to pick it would be difficult. Better find someone who could actually open the door for them.

Just as the kitsune was about to ask Jazdia about who has the keys to the mausoleum a ruckus at the front gate caught Kaito’s attention. Apparently a captain of the royal guard had come to inspect his men and wasn’t too pleased with the fact that they let them in. His arrival could be troublesome.

The captains of the royal guard weren’t exactly your run of the mill guards like the pipsqueak with the armor that was a couple of sizes too big. No, the captains were on a completely different level. All highly trained and experienced professionals. They would not be easily fooled nor quickly beguiled by magical charm. Give such a man the impression that you’re trying to bewitch him and the situation could escalate quickly. A fight with the royal guard was the last thing they needed right now.

For a moment the fox pondered about what strategy they should choose. He wasn’t sure if they could trust the captain. As far as Kaito was concerned everyone in the royal court could be a traitor. Giving too much information might endanger the mission. Trying to fool the man might escalate the situation and endanger the mission as well. They would have to walk a tightrope and hope to reach the end without falling.

As the captain addressed Jazdia, Kaito stepped forward. “Good afternoon sir. You certainly may insist that we state our business. However I hope that you understand that, concerning the grave events that transpired at this site, that our business is on a strictly need to know basis only.” Spoke the fox in a serious tone.

For a moment he studied the captain’s facial expression and quickly came to the conclusion that a ‘it’s none of your business’ would not be sufficient. The man in front of him would probably not be satisfied with anything less than some official documentation. If anyone had some form of documents in the group it would be the elf. Yet Kaito was also aware that she was a very private person and very unwilling to share any personal details. Details that might need to be redacted or blurred out before the captain could see whatever Jazdia was holding on too. “But perhaps you’re high enough up in the chain of command to be informed on our business. I think we are at liberty to share some of the details, don’t you agree miss Jazdia?” Spoke Kaito as he held up his hand for any documents hoping that his comrade trusts him enough to keep her private details a secret.

Well the jig was up, a lot sooner than expected in the form of a captain coming in with righteous fury. And now they're on the frying pan because a certain fox employed trickery to gain passage, joy. The man initially tried to weasel out of this one, too, but cap'n thin goatee here wasn't buying none of it. And then it's back to Jazdia.

Oh, wait. She recognize this fella. His name was...

"Hold up. That you, Delving junior? You look so much more like your father now." Yeah, man aged about two decades in eight years but the shape of his face and that annoying voice of his remain unchanged. Looks like he climbed up quite a bit since last time. "This should be easier to explain then. Short version, Mattie assembled us. Crown business. Your boy up front wasn't keen on that and we ain't got the time to waste, so we had to persuade him a different way. No hard feelings, yeah?" Might as well own up to it, but also play it down. Leave as few leverage as possible for the other party to make use of. "Go send a runner to the castle if you want a confirmation or something. Or detain us, and Mattie's coming for your ass sooner than later. Ain't make a difference for me."

Matilda took a moment to absorb all the information that was being spoken to her. There was a defiant correlation between the attack on the king and the kidnapping of the prince. This was a good indication that someone in the court was working with the enemy.

“I will follow the tracks to wherever they lead to, hopefully, they lead to any stragglers that are still alive.” The group could see her hand tightening into a fist, it was very obvious she wanted to beat the information out of them. She quickly looked through the pouch carried by her horse, giving Henri. Gave him a small medallion, the medallion had an image of a tree skillfully burned into the wood. (Picture of the medallion- image.spreadshirtmedia.com/image-serv…)

“This should be enough for Cedar to easily find me.” She looked at the medallion that Cedar was now holding, “Please be careful with that medallion, it is a family heirloom.” She felt empty handing Cedar the medallion, it was found on her person when she was found by her adopted father.

Looking over at Henri who had done something with her armour, “Very well. Let us not waste any more time, I will meet with you hopefully soon.” She quickly told Anderson to watch her horse, walking off toward the forest. Carefully following the footsteps of the kidnappers.

Cedar looked through the misc kit that had been pulled from the bags.

Most were sadly quite empty, aside from the nose destroying powder. Some additional rope, a knife, handaxe, a small shovel, knapping tools, and some sack cloth. A bit spartan, but for a moment it made Cedar nostalgic. It's the sort of stuff his dad kept in his 'day kit'. Well, aside from the sack cloth and nose destroying powder, anyway. He couldn't help but wonder if he was up against another woodland hermit...

"I'll takes that rope an' the shovel-- Already gots an axe an' knife. Knappin' tool's handy, but already gots muh own. Ain't got no need ta be gunnysackin' nobody, so dun need the cloth. Might make an OK blanket though... That is-- unless ya wants the shovel an' rope for summat?"

Henri asserted he did not, but seemed amused by the axe for some reason. Humans never ceased to bewilder him-- assuming Henri was a human. He sure didn't smell like one. Didn't smell like anything, except maybe something greasy and unappealing.

He leaned on his staff, looking over Henri's shoulder at the map, before looking up and around at the lake.

"'dese mo-rons packed too lightly fer a long trip. Ya s'pose they still in 'ere?"

"What do you mean?" asked Henri, turning to look up at Cedar.

"Ain't no food, no means ta cook food, no canteens, nothin'. Ain't even got stuff ta fix their damn saddles in' the has an accident. Either these guys is total mo-rons, ors they not ridin' far-- an' we gots a map showin' us a spot they's int'rested in, as just a stone's throw 'atta way." Cedar frowned, though it would take an expert to notice, aside from the posture of his ears. "Wouldn't do ta just 'walk righ' in'..."

"Do you have a better idea?" asked Henri, equal parts interest and boredom. The strange man must have felt just walking in was an obvious tactic. Cedar knew better-- Loggers had sometimes taken to leaving nasty things in places they did not want him-- like animal traps. He looked up again, and to the south, seeing the sheen of the boggy landscape glittering in the sun, with the tumbling stones of the ruins sticking out, partially obscured by overgrown vegetation. There would be plenty of places to conceal such nastiness, if one was not very careful.

He looked back at the lake edge. His thoughts wandered, and he wished he could go fishing and get a bath. It was a lovely daydream, where he wandered the edge, scooping out unexpecting fish, getting clean after, and then avoiding the greenbriar...

He smiled, big and toothy.

"I Gots an idear..."

-------
Sometime later
-------

Henri was not terribly amused by Cedar's sudden change in behavior, especially given how he suddenly took everything he had off, disrobing completely down to just his fur, while smirking mischievously.

"Should I be worried about this 'idea' of yours? And WHY does it involve your getting NAKED?"

"Ain't nobody gun' suspect a wild bear as about ta fuck 'em--" he grinned before making a cruel chuckle. Henri was once more taken aback by the sudden and profound change in the mannerisms of his travel partner.

"No' you, dummy--- Em bastards o'r yonder. As assumes they still there. 'At elf girl as said I was 'sposed ta "Prepare da Venue"-- and I thinks I knows JUST how..."

"And it involves your being naked, how exactly?"

Cedar shook his head and gruffed at the cluelessness of the question. It made absolute perfect sense to him.

"Look, when I's is down on all fours-- like is..."

The bear man levered himself down, and plopped down on his now gloveless "hands", in addition to his feet, standing up on all fours like it was nothing at all. His bodily proportions made it effortless to keep both his arms and his legs perfectly straight that way with a level back, like he was made to walk that way.

"I's looks for all da worl' likes an ordin'ry bear. Ain't nobody gunna suspect a wil' bear nosin' about-- I's can wander all o'er in dere, plantin muh lil' beauties all o'er..."

He grinned again, showing those ghastly teeth.

"an when is' time,-- BAM-- Heheheheheeh." He laughed mischievously. "Nasty, prickle-vines up e'ry arsehole.-- So ya see-- they gun' get fucked-- by your's truly."

The smile momentarily vanished, and the bear man turned his head in confusion.

"why, what you think I's gunna do?"

Henri looked at cedar with his own head tilted. "I would rather not say."
Cedar let out a roaring laugh, before bowing his big head and snorting. "GWAA HAHAHAH! *SNORT*-- Ya ain't muh type!"

"So, what do you want me to do?" asked Henri, only somewhat relieved.

"Ifn' yas gots any a yer own tricks up ya sleeve-- try em out-- Dunno what ya's good at, so caint tell ya. Ya knows better'n I does. What I's gunna be doin' gun take awhile though- so, takes ya time, un'erstand?"

"I'll figure something out." said Henri, returning his attention back to the map.

"Good-- I'll be needin ta go scope out the lake right quick. I cain't imagine it not growin' 'dere--- Shit grows all o'er the damn place. Birds, rabbit, and deer loves the shit, but I ain't normally a fan."

"Poison ivy?"

"Now ere's an idear-- but no-- Greenbriar. Lots a lil' prickles, an' spreadin roots. Three uses for the price a one-- Tough as nails, weedy an' viney--- Co'ered in narsty lil' prickles as breaks of inna skin and makes ya itch fer days-- and--- mos' important a all--- It spreads all unner da groun like creepin' lil' fingers, lookin for trees ta pop up nexta. I keen us' it ta firm up the groun' a bit, wrap up any 'unwan'ed surprises' as them barstards may a lef' me, an-- most important a all-- with em roots alls a spread out in ere, aint noplace I cain't fuck em by su'prise. If they still in there, they gun' be right unhappy fellars soon 'nuff-- hehehe."

And with that, the bear man waddled off toward the lake edge, leaving Henri to his own devices.

"Alright, just roar if anything comes up. I'll follow you from a distance"

Alright. Time to sort out the items from the saddlebags, and then Cedar's items.
It's quite interesting, looking at how similar Cedar's inventory is to these kidnappers. Hand axes, knives, these... If he remembers correctly, these are called knapping tools? He himself quite never saw his need for these things used to create sharp stone tools. After all, he's able to pull a sizable supply of iron from within his own body.

Cedar... Right, Matilda did call him Cedar, didn't she? Henri shrugged, realizing that he misassumed that his name is Cedrick because he once heard that Yvonne girl call her 'Ceddy'.
That man Anderson was calling him Cedrick too, most likely because of Henri. Yet, he felt no obligation to fix this mistake. He will just let it be, as a tiny future source of hilarity.

After melting the unnecessary metal tools and throwing away the saddle bags, sackcloths, and any non-metal parts of the knapping tools; he began equipping Cedar's gear with much care. The cloak of a 9-feet-tall bear is expectedly too long for his normal human size, and so he wrapped it partway on his neck like a thick scarf. His hand axe and knife are then sheathed on the right hip. His flints, placed in the left pocket. His leather-wrapped knapping tools, attached to his left hip. His rope, slung to his right shoulder. His ball of twine...

This is quite an unusually-shaped item, this ball of twine. He reached for Cedar's barrel and attached a diagonal rod to the side of it, and hung the ball of twine onto it. He then wore the barrel on his back. It's good that they added this leather harness to it, turning it into quite a bulky backpack. Finally, his oversized boots and gloves are simply worn directly, even on top of his own shoes, and he'll just hold Cedar's shovel in the open and his big stick as a walking stick, he supposes.

Henri began to walk, following Cedar from a huge distance as he said.

Placidly padding along, the big lumbering form of the bear-man slowly made its leisurely way first up along the edge of the lake, to collect the tiny shriveled black berries that had been overlooked by the birds last winter from amidst the dangerous coils of prickles that were known as "GreenBriar." Birds and deer subsisted on the things during the winter months, as the perennial vine was semi-evergreen, and kept foliage on even in the winter-- or so his dad told him. He had never seen it himself. Whenever the weather started getting cold, the urge to go to sleep became overwhelming, and without even realizing it, he would just wake up several months later in time for spring.

The nasty little vines would serve their purpose quite well here, and would be a buffet for the birds this winter. Deer did not really like wading through the marshes, though he supposed the ice and snow would harden it up well enough for them to consider foraging among the ruins this winter.

Tucking quite a number of the shriveled little black bastards into the small pouch he had retained, and laced to the inside of his right arm, he had long since begun his long, shuffling and investigatory plod all around the ruins. There WERE a few edible roots and small fish hidden among the muck, and he was still very famished from his stay in the dungeon. It didn't hurt any to actually play the part he was 'pretending' to be-- especially since he knew how to do it, and it would serve several roles at once. It was a good hour or more before he was satisfied with having seeded the area with the vicious little horrors he had 'just so happened' to drop into the foraging holes he had been digging, while discretely prompting them to germinate, and greet the summer sun. He had continued 'subtly' coaxing their growth, while doing his lumbering "bear shuffle" amongst the muck and puddles, urging their roots to go deep and wide into the surrounding environs. The whole damn ruin site was now ringed in, like one giant bear trap, ready to be sprung.

Lazily, he waddled back up to the lake, carefully removed the small sack, then took a nice refreshing dip in the water to get all the mud (and old dungeon stench) off.

"Are you done yet?" was the complaint he was greeted with when he returned to Henri, who was wearing his clothes in a most peculiar manner. Almost comical.

"Yup. I thinks so. I'm ready when you is."