The elf frowned, the struggle to understand the Druid's words was so real she wondered how they could manage to communicate so far.

"Put your clothes back on," she answered, as a matter of fact.

"You made a fair point. But this is how the entire operation will be played out anyway. If I have more freedom to choose, we should return, bring reinforcement and dabble in a blatant show of force so the Baron has no choice but to kneel before the might of Kindeance army." Jazdia shrugged and intentionally made eye contact with Matilda.

"But we don't have that luxury, and the King, Fred demanded to have his boy rescued in four days no thanks to our Golem Friend.

We will get inside, come hell or high water. Traitorous as they might be, I don't think they will be stupid enough to throw us in a hole from the get-go. That's where I am putting my bets on; if they harm Matilda, Fred will come for them, and with the bridge destroyed, I doubt they would be able to make a tactical retreat anytime sooner. Which will leave them with the option to remain in their castle and endure a total siege. This is not a foolproof plan, indeed. The enemy might know some of us, or not at all. It is a gamble, but one that still has room to compensate should we lose the bet. The enemy is not as resourceful as their impressive magical barrier suggests. If they do, they should have sent their cavalry to hunt us down the moment Matilda triggered the trap."

[GM Post]

"...say that again, slower? I have a hard time comprehending what you've just reported."

"A group of people bearing the king's crest have arrived at the north gate, sir Archmage. They're demanding to see the baron immediately."

Said baron was present in the room, but both him and the reporting guard clearly treated Asevor as the superior in this situation. The archmage hummed thoughtfully, performing similar gesture as he did earlier in the day as a glimmering illusory monocle formed over his right eye. Strolling to the nearest window, he took stock of the cheap-looking cart and a few riders in the yard as a few guards stood as discreetly as armed men could near it. From a quick glance, they sort of matched the description of troublemakers that recently landed Aaron Delving's fancy pants in figurative (and, to some extent, literal) shit creek. There's more mages down there than a simple delegation would normally have but none present was the one he expected to see. True, wards or artifacts could've concealed her presence, but it's not exactly the smartest move burning one's mana supply prior to confronting an archmage of his caliber. Did they assumed the trap to have been crafted by a team of artificers instead? Or maybe she actually fell to it? Asevor had a few conjectures, but nothing will be gained by endless theorizing. Time to make his move.

"I see. Well then, I believe you should greet our guests, baron Otto. Be hospitable, would you kindly? While you're at it I shall prepare a reception they'll not soon forget." Main actor including one particular Ragnar the Red. Hopefully they'll put up enough of a fight to sate the northlander's battlelust for a bit.

"Now where had you hidden yourself, hm?"

*****

[Elsewhere]

There were several factors that tend to affect the accuracy of scrying. Distance matters, for one. Further away the object was the harder it was to scry. Then there's the nature of what's being scryed. Something solid, that the caster knew of, and if possible had interacted with before? Easy. A vague thing like something that's yet to even happen? Might as well take some psychedelic. And finally, how much someone else invested to prevent said scrying from happening.

Well, there's a few dozen more minor ways that a scry could be altered, it wasn't the most reliable form of magic. But for this particular case, Antigone had the deck stacked sufficiently in her favor. Not like it helped her sour mood, but still.

"Right here, drop the hook and make sure it reaches the bottom. I'll be right back." The duchess gazed the water with disgust. Even though they're already a bit out into open ocean, the sewage from the entire city still stank to an unbearable degree. And of course she had to dive straight into it. Really. The things she'd do for dear old Freddy. "By the endless hells, I'm not getting paid enough for this. Darksight. Elemental Guard. Stoneskin. Waterbreath. Isolation. Flight. Mage's Hand. Detect Magic."

Antigone's figure floated off the ship before hovering over the waterline, and finally plunged in like a rock.

A thin layer of protective screen covered her figure as she descended, though the physical feel of the sludgy water clinging to her clothes brought icky goosebump all over her body. It's all getting thrown into the furnace after this, cleaners be damned. Just the memory it carried was something she wouldn't tolerate.

It wasn't that deep yet, so Antigone quickly reached the bottom. With a gesture the hook lifted off the bottom and floated behind her, and after another gesture she found her direction. She found the target not too far off, a vaguely humanoid lump of metal that was slowly being pushed off by the river's flow. It looked completely inert at the moment, but to Antigone's enhanced sight there's still sign of magical activity looping in the core.

Thank the ancestors that this didn't take long at all.

Attempting to pull him up with the Mage's Hand spell broke the magic, the golem core hungrily devouring the mana. Annoyed, Antigone had to heavily overcast the spell to fortify it against intrusion before finally being able to manhandle the inert yet still ornery golem. The hook and rope was wound around and secured around the frame, and once done she tugged it thrice to signal the crew to began pulling. As the rope grew taut and Henri's figure slowly rose from the depth, the duchess' thought were only occupied by how long a bath she'll need to take to wash off the sensation of filth.

Some court mage work this turned out to be. Was it too late to reconsider a different career?

*****

[Back to Fanghorn]

Past the blocked road the party went, cutting through the grassland as they travel north. From there it took a small loop to change course straight for the fort gate, a number of men could be seen cutting and slashing and digging out the knee-high growth of bramble outside the stone walls. It didn't take long for someone to approach them, and just as swiftly they're sent back carrying words that the king's heralds came for a visit. From there their path was uninterrupted, the bramble before the gate had already been cleared just enough for passage, up until they went up the hill and into the fort's compound proper.

Words had it that the baron's being informed and proper welcome were arranged. The wait wasn't long, nor were there inspections of any kind. A manservant soon enough came to lead the party inside while a stable boy offered to take care of the horses, all under the subtle but constantly watchful gaze of the guards.

What would you do?

For a moment Kaito watched how the bear did his magic. It was certainly nice to have a magical healer on site. Even though Cedar was a bit naive, he was at least a decent fellow with a hard to understand accent. Not that it mattered much. The kitsune could understand it well enough. ”No clue what you have been up to all night but good to have you back Cedar. I’m pretty sure we’re gonna need your skills some more in the coming days.”

The fox turned towards the elf as she explained the course of action. Just knocking on the door and asking for hospitality sounded like a much better plan than trying to storm the walls. It was certainly something that was right up the fox’s alley. They had to get inside Fanghorn castle in order to verify that the boy was there and with everything that had happened so far, knocking on the door seemed like the only option left. ”Sounds like we got ourselves a plan here. Lets do it!”

When the servant returned to the tower to inform his master, Jazdia let out a heavy sigh. Yeah, she knew how she looked like, entering their domain like nobody's business, inordinately flinging Fred's seal to gain entry, all while being a complete nobody in this realm's geopolitical chart.

And likewise, except for the bare-bones information about his terrible financial acumen, she knew nothing about this Baron. Kindeance had been a conflict-free country for a century, and in such a peaceful state, the profiles of its dignitaries were often overlooked save for those at the top. That was one of the reasons why Jazdia thought it would be a great idea to invest in their hospitality business. Now such Tacid assessment had been turned upside down, naturally. Who would be willing to spend their time in a hotel located in a country where its King was assassinated on his doorstep and its prince kidnapped?

Maintaining her bearing, it would be best to just get on with the flow. But before they meet this Baron, Jazdia activated her eyes and scanned her surroundings. Should have done this the moment they walked into this place, but that would betray the neutral, yet still hospitable reception.

The tower was still covered with a magical curtain, but the gap was more apparent here compared to when she viewed it from the faraway treelines. She will deal with it later, after she was done with nearby houses, unknown alleys, and the high rampart behind her.

What did she see?

[GM Post]

The fort was a lonesome structure on top of the hill. Its surrounding was empty and open, save for a well-populated stable off to one side. It had a number of horses in there... quite a lot of horses, in fact, one particular specimen was at least two sizes larger than the rest and built so muscularly one may suspect that it's used to a diet of meat.

The stone rampart was underpopulated, with only one sentry every twenty-something meter and they seems to be paying more attention to the bramble removal team than their surroundings. The walls itself was exactly how it looked, stone with some copper veins that diffused magic, yet from this close it's possible to peer through the gaps to view the people making slow progress through the overgrowth.

The same could be said about the castle wall. While the crack was at southeast side, putting it out of direct line of sight for now, there's sufficient gaps to get some idea of what's going on inside. The previously concealed first floor looked to be a great hall, currently populated by one person sweeping the floor slowly. A few people was talking in a room on the second floor, including the guard that went to deliver their report. One of them went to the window to presumably peer down on the party, a glimpse of wrinkled skin and grey hair revealed itself for a few seconds before the people dispersed.

Then it's a flurry of activity. Servants came down to the first floor, preparing various tables and refreshment. The third floor had less people than earlier in the day, presumably a portion was out dealing with the brambles. They seemed to be mostly unmoving at the moment, as if resting... or waiting for something. Beside a section of the floor that seems to be the kitchen, of course. That part was busy as beehive, as evident of the faint smoke of cooking fire that soon started to emerge from the nearest chimney.

[GM Post]

There was a small commotion when the guard at the fort's gate asked for the party to surrender their weapons, of which Matilda flat out refused. The poor man seemed at lost, caught between a rock and a hard space until the baron himself came to bail him out. "No need for such formality!" He said. "The king's own herald wouldn't wish us any harm now, would they?"

Baron Otto was a middle-aged man that didn't age quite that well, already more white than black on a head that seemed to be permanently stooping forward. He wore a formal outfit that might've been a tailor-fit a few years back but now pressed tightly into his flesh, the buttons fighting for their life to keep him modest. Yet despite all that he remained jovial at a glance, like a harmless neighborhood uncle that was more than eager to share a story or two.

"My apologies for the lacking reception dear heralds, but your visit was on a short notice!" He chuckled nervously, showing the way to a long table with a dozen seats arranged around it. "Please, take a seat! You must've rode through the night, I'm sure you wont mind a modest breakfast?"

Jazdia formally smiled back at him, before shifting at Matilda with nudging glance. "I am sure madam guard captain would appreciate that. Though, our initial intention was to request a service from your physician so our Captain will be treated with more than just first aid."

The Baron gasped. "By the Gods, how did the good dame received such injuries? I'll have the village doctor summoned at once, worry not. There's a room available-"

"That will not be necessary." the orc paladin said bluntly. "We do what we came here for."

"Ah, come on capt', there is no harm in it." Jazdia turned to the Baron again, who now smiling nervously. His reaction to Matilda's injury was pathetic to the point she wondered if the old coot knew how obvious it was. The elf however wanted to prolong this tango and subtly dismissed Matilda's objection.

"Appreciate it, Baron... I am sure our captain can enjoy some breakfast while she waits for your personal doctor."

Steadily, in a way that involves hidden carefulness yet masked with deliberate politeness, Jazdia walked inside the room, followed by the others. Some creaking could be heard when the half-bear druid walked past her toward his own seat. The faint glow in her eyes activated, and in the effort to search for a trapdoor or other nefarious contraptions, she found a very ordinary cellar, below it was an empty dungeon.

"Well, good luck finding a chair for you, Mr. Cedar." she quipped before their host could notice her intense stare toward his basement.

The Baron entertained them at a long table in the middle of the room where he sat at the right end. As he clapped his hand, several servants came from the door at the north side of the room, bringing trays of food and drinks. A very deadpan yet courteous servant handed Jazdia a pipping-hot oatmeal porridge with blueberry and apple topping, while the others were to help themselves with various loaves of bread, soup, and meats. Pretty wholesome indeed.

[GM Post]

The nervousness faded a bit from the baron's countenance as his "guests" eventually took the invitation, mentally reassessing the pecking order here. Clearly the dame was the leader, yet so far it's the elf taking the reins. An expert, perhaps? Well, no matter. He just need to do his part.

"Men, summon the good doctor, please! Make it quick." He ordered to no one in particular as the servants filed in on his command, carrying trays of freshly made food. Say whatever about Fanghorn, but when it comes to food there's few place that could be their match. "Ah, and get a sturdier bench for our big friend here. I'm afraid the chair wasn't built for one so big."

Thinking back to the one broken by Ragnar, it'll probably not hold the larger bear-man. Even if he seemed more polite than the northener.

"I'm sure you know who I am, but let me introduce myself. Baron Otto von Kruber of Fanghorn, at your service. How may I be of assistance to the crown?"

Yvonne was skeptical at their decision, but far from her to question the team leader. Just, no one would fault her for looking around to see potential escape routes and whatnot. You know, just in case. A mercenary always had to be on lookout for their own well-being or they die quickly and usually embarassingly.

The door's the most obvious one. It only fits one person to create a bottleneck for the defenders, but that meant it opened outward. She'll probably be able to force it open as long as it's not barred from the outside. Then there's another door at the other side of the room, deeper into the structure. Desperate, but it's an option. The windows were too narrow to even consider, damn the sensible construction. Not as much options as she liked, but plenty.

Worst come to worst, she can always take the baron hostage.

"Fancy breakfast there." Whistled the mercenary, looking at the vast array of foodstuff in front of her. Was the food poisoned though? That's the issue here.

Cedar nodded appreciatively at the baron, but said nothing until after the servants had displaced several of the chairs, and replaced them with a low but sturdy bench.

He had something similar in his cabin, but with a much less elaborate (and much taller) table. He would have to lean over to use this one. The cutlery was fashioned for much smaller, and more delicate hands.

So much for manners.

He moved to the edge of the bench, such that most of his weight would be over one set of its legs, then sat down; a loud creaking being the only voice if opposition to his presence at the table. He had to admit, that was more hospitable than he was used to, and for some reason that made him wary and uneasy.

This 'baron' von 'whatshisface' was being TOO hospitable.

He discretely sniffed at the air, taking in the room, the food, lingering scents from prior occupants and activities, while glancing about.

...

Why did they try to distract him with food? That had to be the most uncivil thing about this: teasing a poor bear like this, and especially in the fall!

He HAD to keep his head about this. HAD to.

Kaito looked at all the food that was being served by the baron to their party. For a moment he wondered if it would be poisoned. That would be an easy way to dispose of his little group. And would not make less of a mess then decapitation, stabbing through the heart or getting quartered. That would certainly be his preferred method if he was in the Baron’s shoes. Somehow judging from Yvonne’s hesitation she was thinking the same thing.

For the moment the fox decided not to start gobbling down on the food and wait to see what the others would do. For now focussed on the Baron instead. There was always something to be learned from engaging in conversation with your enemy. ” Baron Von Kruber. Let me first thank you for your generous hospitality and your unwavering loyalty to the crown. Something our king greatly appreciates in these times. My name is Sir Jurgen Von Drexel, knight to the king’s court. It’s an honor to reside at your court.”

Kaito had deliberately chosen a similar sounding fake name of a lesser known noble house in order to create a sense of familiarity between him and the baron. His next move would be to engage in friendly conversation, building up the relationship and softening up the baron’s defenses before moving on to topics where the good old baron did not want to slip his tongue. ”You have two sons right? How are they doing? I heard your youngest is going to come of age soon. Has he found a good tutor to squire for?”

[GM Post]

The massive arrangement of food was a treat to the eyes and nose. With farming as their main industry, Fanghorn's produce was on the top of the line. Among those, only the best of the best made their way to the baron's pantry. The porridge was piping hot with sweet milky smell to it. Freshly baked loaves of bread in various size came alongside soft golden butter. Rich assortment of fruit was sent in various bowls, berries of different shade and apples and figs and half a dozen more. Cold cuts of meat with faint fragrance of smoke and salt was served next to savory bacon, its oil still sizzling from the heat. Eggs, too, was aplenty, from softboiled to scrambled and everything inbetween. While the choice of drink wasn't as plentiful as the food, there's still quite a bit. A servant stood attentively on the side, a small table holding various glass pitchers on it. There's chilled water, for one, and what looked like milk, but the rest were a riot of color that reminded one of the fruits on the table. One only need to ask to get their cup filled.

Whether encouraging or suspicious, none held any trace of malevolent addition. Whether to human, elf, or bear senses.

"An honor to have you at my table, Sir Jurgen!" If the baron noticed any apprehension from his guests, he didn't show it. He took a bread from the nearest basket, slicing through to reveal the white insides before generously lathering butter on it. "Why, my good sir, you know a lot about me! It shames me that I cant say otherwise. My boys are... doing very well, they're currently visiting a distant acquaintance with my wife. As for tutor, well, I had some talk with Sir Caspar a while back. Nothing decided yet of course, but it's looking good I'd say!"

Cedar eyed the baron cautiously, and waited for the man to actually take a bite before even permitting himself the very idea of taking any of the food.

If there were to be a torture special made for a being such as he, this would be among the top contenders.

A powerful instinct to lay claim to the entire table and eat like a beast until he could no longer swallow (then continue trying to eat anyway, should any food still be present) was clawing and howling in the back of his psyche like a rabid dog, while the dignified and human part of him struggled and fought to retain composure and control.

Remaining quiet and dignant in posture and poise amidst this assault on his senses was pure existential agony. He doubted his companions truly realized the degree to which his self-control was being tested by this exchange. Had this truly been a genuinely friendly invitation to dinner, from a truly trusted friend, he would have been at ease, and indulged in a way only a true and real friend would have understood, but that was not what this was. This was a fattened hog placed over a vicious trap, hungry and eager to ensnare... or at least, had every potential to be. The cruel memory of being trapped in the Rascade dungeon was about the only mental defense he could bring to bear against this most heinous crime of civility.

He did his best to not shake, and discretely swallowed the drool that was threatening to baptize his face if not attended to.

'For fuck's sake, don't drag this out!' He cursed inwardly at his companions.

They were likely completely oblivious to the thin vaneer of composure that was holding back the flood...

Well, the baron's eating. Didn't seems like he cared which plate he grabbed from either. Not fully reassuring, but it's a start. Yvonne, who out of complete total and utter coincidence (yeah right) sat the closest to the rotund man, casually reached over for bread from the same basket. The motion was a bit awkward since it's not exactly in an arm's reach, but who cares - if anyone complain at all she'll shoot it down.

It was a damn good bread, actually. No wonder the baron grew so fat if he's eating like this every single day.

Now, hmm. Maybe an apple. Surely there's no way to poison fruits? She just started peeling it on the spot and bite into the flesh. Nice and crisp, juicy, with the right amount of sourness. And hopefully not poisoned. Surely the man didn't employ some sort of nefarious witch capable of poisoning an apple? That would be too much of a fairytale.

-
When the baron started eating, so too Jazdia started scooping her oatmeal. Not because of suspicion, but genuinely due to respecting the host himself. It was not proper table manners for a guest to eat before the host started digging.

As for the concern regarding poisoned food, she would know it on the first bite, and so far nothing seemed out of ordinary, being an elf and food connoisseur herself, she had great confidence in detecting and avoiding that kind of old-fashioned assassination.

The Rosenving daughter was eating as well, probably having a similar mindset. Jazdia herself was already on her third scoop and washed it down with some milk.

"Nice place." Said Jazdia, glancing at the corners, and dusty furniture, and ceiling before turning to the host. "Very vintage yet a rare style nowadays... I always have things for unique decorations, you see. I own a restaurant and our patrons like it when we change the decor that matches the season. And you have a great cook too."

[GM Post]

"Indeed! Being a bit far from the capital is no excuse to not keep up a good appearance, is it? I'll make sure the cooks get their commendation, they've done great job today." Baron Otto seemed to be eating slowly, yet the food just... disappeared into his gullet. Buttered bread, vanished in seconds. Scrambled egg, it took him longer to sprinkle the cheese than it took him to inhale it all. A few bacon and sausage followed, barely two chew between them. All without breaching decorum or looking the slightest bit distracted - it's like the man had perfected eating as an art. He took a sip from his cup before continuing the conversation. "I believe I hadn't caught your name, miss?"

Noticing how the baron followed by Jazdia started to eat without dying, Kaito figured that the food should be at least safe enough to not die instantly and grabbed a piece of bread as well. It was surprisingly tasty and the fox quickly grabbed another bite. When finished chewing it all down, he turned his attention towards the baron again.

”We knights tend to talk a lot in between all the training and missions we do. So news and stories kind of travel fast that way.” The kitsune paused a bit as the elf took the word. Fitting that she started about the food and the furniture. Baron Von Kruber’s hall was indeed rather retro.

”I’ve heard many good tales about Sir Caspar. I’m sure he will be a great tutor for your son. It must be lonely with the baroness and your boys visiting an acquaintance. Do you get many visitors at your castle?”

Considering that Jazdia herself was a guest in Kindeance, she hoped that it would be Matilda who introduced her. The orc captain unsurprisingly did not interested.

"Ah, where are my manners?" smiling, Jazdia put down the utensil and placed her palm on her chest. "The name is Jazdia Crystalspark. I am Fred's-- I mean his Highness Fredricus's long-time acquaintance. Currently a citizen of Helvetia, and a restaurateur by trade. On my right side is Miss Yvonne from Rosenving Clan, our mutual acquaintance Madame Matilda, next to her was Doctor Solomon, and our woodland guide, Master Cedar." Jazdia looked at Kaito and reassured herself. "And last but not least, Sir Jurgen Von Drexel whom you had the pleasure of exchanging pleasantries with."

[GM Post]

"I'm sure the knights have a strong bond with each other! My youngest is always fascinated by it." Empty plates was taken away and replaced, the food flowed as if the baron had no worry about possible excess. None of the servants seemed bothered by it either. "I get visitors all the time, yes. Not as often as an estate closer in the capital would be, but my guest rooms are seldom empty for long. There's a traveling wizard at this very moment, in fact. Mister Aster have an eccentric streak, but he offered some service in exchange of hospitality. He would've joined us here if a saboteur didn't ruin the road, but I'm sure he'll be back any time now."

Perception check: Faint whispers echoed at the edge of one's hearings, easily masked by conversation and ambient noise of various utensils. The source was impossible to pinpoint, and should one try to focus on it the voices seemed to entirely fade. Please make a response.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss Crystalspark!" Otto caught the slight correction, and wondered what relationship the king had with this elf. The knight-captain didn't look fazed by the supposed faux pass either, how curious. "And everyone else as well! My door is always open, should you be in the area for a... less official capacity in the future."

Cedar's ears twitched at the unusual sound, and his eyes went wide for a split second as it cascaded across the taught drum skin of his consciousness.

Far from being alarming, it was actually a welcome diversion from the slowly closing trap that he found himself in: if he failed to take any of the food, it may anger their host. If he took some of the food, his composure and self control could break. (He was an avid practitioner of 'avoidance' based self-control. If you dont put yourself in the situation where something will tempt you, you wont be tempted, and you wont succumb. It's arguably the single best reason he did NOT have any bastard bear cubs on wild mothers back home... If he increased the temptation, the risk that he would break would only increase, possibly beyond his ability to stop, and that frightened him). If he took food and didn't eat it, his host would surely notice.

There was no winning move, and the feeling of being caged was palpable for him.

The mysterious noise was a very welcome diversion from the trap, perhaps, even a way out if he played it right.

Very carefully, he held his empty plate out for one of the servants, and motioned for them to please fill it, muttering under his breath in a low tone for only that one server, that the serving utensils were too small for his hands. At least with some of the food served, he could sidestep an angered host.

He trained his full attention on the sound, and swallowed hard once more, banishing the salivary flood his body was trying to drown him with.

If he could keep that blessed distraction in his ears, then discretely call attention... he might continue to overpower the intense, visceral urge to bury his head in his plate, and escape the trap.

He trained his ears harder, tuning out the Baron... only to be met with suspicious silence.

"Di'd anuh'buddy else jus' hear fertive whisperin', or were it jus' me?" He ventured aloud, taking the risk of sending drool everywhere after a fresh swallow.

He hated having a way out dangled in front of him, then snatched away just as quickly. Now he was forced to try conversation as a distraction, and risk baptizing the table.

There were certain real and unavoidable reasons you did not invite bears to sit at the table, and expect them to obey table manners...