Not bothered by Solomon's spectral servant, the elven innkeeper emerged from behind the counter and walked toward the sets of tables and chairs near the fireplace, bringing the rest of Jazdia's order and some extras. Affable as ever, the man greeted the doctor and placed the tray on the table.

"Has Slyph returned yet? No? Still in the locker room? She won't be there long, I know her, she would rather skip whatever she is doing now than having her tea gone cold. Can I sit here?"

The bid for permission was a mere formality when Baker seated himself on the chair across the table. And after getting himself comfortable, the innkeeper leaned forward to initiate a seemingly casual conversation. Or not-

"I heard the operation was successful, but why the long face? Slyph doesn't look very happy when I saw her."

As the two finished their meal, Cedar waved goodbye to the old man, then placed the empty stew pot in the general place that the Baker had indicated.

He wasn't sure why, but he was very sad to see the old man go. He kept reminding himself that Reinhold was NOT his father, no matter how much the old man's personality and lifestyle coincided. He had his own life, and it was time to go their separate ways.

He heaved a sigh, then decided to go check on the horses. There was still some bread left, and the creatures would enjoy a nice treat, he felt.

The horses where tied up, right where they had been left. Absently, he tried to reassure the nags that he was not going to eat them, having already just eaten, before offering chunks of the bread. It was always a slow process, winning the trust of herbivores. Their instinct was to be wary, and his nature did not align well with circumventing that.

He rubbed their noses gently, despite the wide-eyed look it garnered him. He looked behind and saw Matilda and the Prince still seated within. Matilda looked all-business, and ready to chew iron into nails. He decided that was poor company, and the wary horses were a better option, in his opinion. Maybe they would like a good brushing?

He turned and headed to the small livery barn the Baker kept for all-nighter patrons to put up their horses for the night. He'd surely find what he was looking for in there.

The tackroom was immaculately kept, something the bearman noted as probably indicative of the man's fastidiousness, and he located a stiff boar-bristle grooming brush in short order. It felt small in his hand, but then again, anything human-sized always did. The door and interior of the tackroom too, were woefully undersized for a person of his stature. Carefully, he squeezed back out the door with his prize, then closed it neatly behind him, and returned to where the horses were tied, then started grooming them.

As expected, they were not the most receptive of his ministrations as a groomsman. After several minutes, and irritated horses that just wanted him to leave them be snorting air at him, he gave up. Then he had the idea of using the brush on himself-- and wanted to kick himself for not thinking of it sooner.

The baker did not seem to have an easily accessible well outside, for whatever reason. Cedar could only make wild guesses as to why, but for whatever reason, there just wasn't one. This lack had put a damper on his earlier plan to get a quick wash, and get the muck off of him that way, but the brush posed a less thorough, but alternative method of getting clean. At least it would get the majority of it off.

Idly, he returned to the door of the livery stable, took a seat on the ground nearby, then started brushing. Puffs of dust, and bits of mud flaked off with each passing of the bristles, as they worked through his fur, and did their magic. A few minutes later, and he felt like a new bear. He was still dirty of course, but the majority of it was now several patches of dirt, dust, and undercoat fuzz that clung to the grass where he had pulled it from the brush during the process. Respectfully, he returned the brush where he found it, then considered going inside. He had seen several of the others already go in without him, and now free of the dried on muck, he should be mostly presentable to go in, if still rather under-dressed. Clothing was mostly a formality anyway.

He stood up, and gave his fur a shake. A poofy cloud of dust billowed out as he did so, ejecting the last of the heavy soiling. The rest would cling to his skin until he could get a proper wash, but at least it wouldnt drop off and leave "leavings" for the baker and his daughter, if he went inside.

Eager to break the melancholy of his mood, he headed back to the terrace, collected the now mostly empty vegetable bag, then entered the door.

---

Solomon didn’t mind Baker inviting himself into the group, in one way or another he provided good help. He took in the once slaved caster girl, provided the compass which helped in communication, and was kind enough to spare some of the medical supplies stored within. He also appeared to be good friends with jazdia, whom Baker said would be returning shortly. He was impressed that he had no reaction to Petra, and she herself didn’t care. She remained sitting in the chair Jazdia had vacated staring into the fire.

“Hmm, yes. To say the operation went off without a hitch would be a lie. Being able to think about it now, it was clear to see how many wrong turns we inadvertently took. For Jazdia, it is probably what has happened most recently. We did not leave without loss. How and why may have left her with negative emotion. It does not help since yesterday we have been constantly moving with nary time enough for a proper rest. This is the first we have been given the chance to fully relax.” said Solomon. He tried to tell of their adventures without disrespecting both honor, and giving away too much information, while still speaking the truth. Jazdia and to an extent Solomon trusted Baker, but he still felt it best to keep the particulars vague.

"The loss you say." Baker's emerald eyes scanned the entire room before shifting to the fireplace with an expression that neither showed empathy nor conclusive thought. "Whatever or whoever it was, I hope it would mean much for the betterment of this nation. I shall not pry further."

Shooking himself awake, the innkeeper picked the conversation back again to the topic at hand.

"Yes, and that's such a shame that your stop will be brief in my establishment. But I believe it's for the best for everyone involved, especially the VIP you are escorting."

Baker shifted his glance at the front door. Cedar could be seen heading this way, and the bear looked much cleaner now.

'Master Cedar. Glad you decided to join us. Have a seat, the single bench over there is quite sturdy. I made it myself with the thickest cut I could find." After pointing at a single-seater bench made mostly of several halved logs, he continued.

"So, you are just one step closer to finishing this... quest. A Sovereign's Will, I call it. Do you have any plans after that? Mind sharing it with me?"

For the uninitiated, the question sounded like any other harmless question asked by the innkeeper to initiate a friendly banter, but somehow it felt as if there was more behind it. And the more you let Baker speak the more you felt a hidden, ominous echo in his voice. Could it be because of his elven heritage? Jazdia didn't sound like that at all.

The door swung open, not quite slamming to the wall but still with more force than strictly necessary. There stood Yvonne, some scab still lining her face like a deranged tattoo, especially coupled with that manic grin she's sporting.

And oh, she seemed not-quite sober too. Because why not.

"Yoohoo, how's the party goin'?" That's followed by a cackle, as if there's something especially funny in the sentence. "Our VIP's wondering if we're leaving anything soon. A bit mean leaving them hanging out there, no?"

The Baker's warm invitation was very thoughtful, and he made a polite attempt at a short bow and tipping of the head to indicate his acceptance of the invitation, before moving toward the proffered bench.

"Thank ya kin'ly sir. Much apprishiated."

He was just about to draw attention to the sack of day-olds the Baker had graciously supplied, to share what was left, when Yvonne busted into the room.

Cedar frowned, then sat down at the table but continued looking at Yvonne.

"Wull--- I mos'ly jus' wan'ed tuh git cleaned up, and git a bite ta eat-- but de LAS' TIME I did 'at 'round 'ere, da lot a yas came up wit some cokamamie plan ta go topple a tow'r while I was out havin dinner, an didn' tell meh till mornin! Rounded meh up outta bed and stuff'd meh in a wagon wit nary an explanation! Had tuh put Two an' Two tugether muself watchin Veron'ca do 'er stuff in a cup o water."

It was not ENTIRELY the reason he had come inside, but it DID adequately deflect the implication that he was being willfully and needlessly negligent to their "VIP".

"I jus' wann'ed ta know if'n I shoulds be 'spectin gettin pounded inna da groun' like a fencepos' a secon' time roun' or not."

He snuffed at the air.

"Hey-- Whatcha been drinkin? --"

The bear thanked the man for the invitation and sheepishly had himself seated at the other side of th long table.

Then, there were two things that happened afterward, Another petite but older woman barged in with boozy giggles, and seemingly in a misplaced response, the beast-man suddenly complained about the inhospitable treatment he received on the previous visit that actually was unrelated to Baker and his establishment. The crassness of the words uttered left the baker puzzled, though he decided to not address it.

The doctor was sitting motionlessly in front of him. Though it was hard to discern what kind of expression he made behind that mask, Baker guessed that the man was likely to be as confused as he was.

Almost in parallel, Jazdia walked out of the panic room. Looked fresher and cleaner than before. And more dressed; that navy coat was neither over, nor undersized, and she wore it with its sleeves rolled to the elbow and all its buttons buttoned.

"Greetings Madam Admiral." said the baker dryly, and the elf only snorted as she walked past him toward the fireplace. The flame was nearly extinguished.

"Tsk-tsk. All the people here and you can't keep the fire going."

Jazdia flicked a small sphere of fire out of her fingers and and reignited the fireplace. Tossing more wood into it, the elf spared a glance at the inn owner and asked. "Feeling a bit lonely tonight, Baker?"

The elven man shrugged, delaying his response to let the beast-man finished asking the black-haired lady about what kind of booze she had been drinking.

"Well, if you want to know, I was asking what plan you folks will have after having this entire fiasco concluded." he answered flatly.

"Definitely not by wasting it in your place." the elf drawled. It was the last wood tossed before she stood up and reached for an iron poker to adjust the burning timber.

"I'm certainly not against it though." the reply came slower than before and became more candid. Jazdia tilted her head. Awkwardly tried to smile, but failed to find anything funny with that statement.
With a doubtful expression, she looked at her ex-employee in the eyes, before walking back to the table and pouring her tea into a porcelain cup.

"Really now?" the elven woman's blue eyes narrowed, they were slightly turned purplish when the tea in her cup was steaming again.

And likewise, the Baker dropped his jolly attitude, although he remained affable when he spoke back to Jazdia.

"Only for a limited time, and if the price was right," he said, looking at everyone present in the room with a slightly concerned undertone. The atmosphere suddenly turned mirthless.

"But honestly, I would rather suggest you all to take a one-way trip away from Kindeance."

---

Solomon continued looking forward when Cedar had entered the establishment. He didn’t really have to confirm it was him, his heavy steps, and Barker’s greeting was enough. Yet, even with Yvonne barging in shortly thereafter, Solomon continued to wait. Petra turned her head, but the sudden entrance, but Solomon remained in contemplation. They had the prince, now but there was more going on behind the scenes. He finally relaxed again, his eyes shifting as he heard Cedar’s grievances and Yvonne’s brashness. Perhaps the exhaustion was finally getting to everyone. It didn’t help to see that the alcohol was catching up with the Yvonne.

Solomon turned slightly in his chair so his back was not quite to either Cedar or Yvonne. “Perhaps this is a sign we needed the rest. If guard captain Matilda were more accepting, I’d highly recommend both she and the youngling come inside and stretch their legs. We still have several hours of travel ahead of us. Some food and exercise would do them both good. Also, Yvonne, in a bit I would like to change out your bandages now that you are up and walking.” Now that Jazdia was back, much cleaning and looking much healthier, perhaps Baker would be willing to lend the room again for Yvonne's benefit. At least, if she was cooperative in her inebriated state.

Solomon sat back in his chair proper, not wanting to ignore Baker, “My apologies. Your question. I personally would like to continue my research, but I doubt I will be able to just walk away. I cannot say, but I feel this endeavor has yet several more stages to play out. We might have custody of the VIP, as you say, for now. But there are forces still out there no doubt plotting the means to redirect the path ahead.”

Cedar sighed at the idea that yes-- Very much so-- He was probably not going to be a very welcome guest in Kindeance once news of what happened in Fanghorn got out.

It bothered him terribly what had happened there.

He slumped visibly at the table, the bravado of his cheeky retort to Yvonne being let out like a popped balloon: the melancholy of Reinhold going home, simply colliding with being discretely reminded of 'what exactly he did' at Fanghorn in a spectacle of self loathing and self pity.

"Go on home, I guess." he said absently, not making eye contact with the Baker. "Aint got time tuh set thangs righ' afores I has to 'die' in muh den fer da win'er.... ... I hopes it were worth it."

He suddenly found he really wanted a drink.

"And where is this home? If I may be so bold to ask?"

Baker's emerald eyes attentively gazed at Cedar, probing for more information until he could finally draw his personal conclusion.

"What I am trying to say is You have been involved deeper into the game, and now Fredricus would not let any of his pieces go astray or fall into his enemy's hands. You are his pawn now and you have been treading on the chessboard this entire time."

"Slyph. Now you've heard what the Delving prince said. Tell me, what would happen if there were no effort being fronted to "rescue the prince at all cost"? How far would you think the syndicate would go? Sure, there will be some turmoils in Rascade political landscape, but that's just that. The prince had been missing for a full week, ever wondered why they were not very stringent with their timeframe?

Baker shook his head and sighed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am afraid I have to tell you that the success of your mission is a planned failure, a desirable one. They never seek to keep the prince locked forever, they were fishing for Fredricus's irrational decision and he just handed it in a platter with the help of yours truly. To create a big stir-up in the nation. Tomorrow the news about Fanghorn will reach far and wide. And who needs finicky and sketchy news about a missing prince if you have more relatable, nationwide news concerning a mass tragedy shaped like a symbolical attack against the nation?"

"The war is closer than ever." he continued. "And Fredricus would never let you leave, or live your life until he managed to tie up any loose ends. You can call me a liar if you want to. And Slyph knows this all along."

"lettin' meh go 'r not-- I still has ta sleep. Is REAL hard on a behr ta be kept from sleepin' in da win'er.. Fat lotta good I'll do im in about 2 er 3 more weeks."

He snorted.

"unless he need a doorstop, or a rug. What he gunna do nex'? Roun' up all da lil' bunny rabbits an mice inna kingdom, an' put em on da fron' line? Hell, I ain't e'en FROM dis kingdom-- I come here ta stop a waar, an' at's all!"

Jazdia listened as if the news were yesterday's occasion to her. She walked to the counter, helped herself with another Tertagorian bread, and returned to the fireplace.

And only by then her eyes wandered, silence engulfed the room after Cedar voiced his contention, and the bear was not afraid. Though, he slightly underestimated the precarious situation he was in.

"I do not completely agree with what Baker said. Though he was right about not trusting Fredricus, I do have my own theory." After sipping a quarter part of her tea, she looked at Cedar. Intrigued by the words he uttered before. "Imagine if the King knows what you are capable of. Oh, he would love to add you to his collections, Maybe not as his rug or trophy, but as a weapon. A chained weapon, locked into his dungeon, only be used at war. Well-fed but caged and shackled. Not entirely dissimilar to that blindfolded girl we rescued earlier."

"Whoa, no need to get snappy there messer Fuzzy-wuzzy, just a plain ol' messenger here." Yvonne opened her mouth to continue, paused, frowned, and looked back in deep thought before shrugging something off her mind. "Eh, ain't remember what's on the label. But nabbed it off Krub's cellar back then."

Leave it to her to loot some booze before their return.

"You'd bet I'll board the first ship to somewhere tropical once Freddy cash out my reward, Bae!" Or perhaps she'd hang around longer to join in the upcoming war instead. Seems like something Capn' would gladly participate in... or avoid like plague. If the latter, she's definitely taking that ship. Say what you will, but the mercenary leader had a near-supernatural keen instinct on avoiding danger. Yvonne thought that she should pay the man a visit after this, first thing first. "And doctor Solomon, my favorite man! Always with the good idea, eh? Get me outta these bandages, it itch like hell. Ah, before that-"

The mercenary turned around, placed two fingers at the side of her mouth, and whistled loud and clear. Noisy enough that a particularly disgruntled visage popped at the side of the carriage, the very gaze pointedly asking "What?"

"Join us for a moment, would'ya? Little one must be hungry."

"Liss'n" Cedar said softly, but crossly. "Look like we gunna have 'his majesty's' boy in 'ere shortleh, so I gots ta watch muh tongue-- But les' git one thang straight 'ere."

He practically glared at Jazdia and the Baker.

"I ain't at-tall proud a what happen' back 'ere. Lotta poor folks los' 'er homes, and 'en some, an' I ain't no small part tuh blame. Em people didna ask fer at. Didna wan' it, fer sure! Aint none us want'ed at, 'cept da peoples as wants dis damn war. 'At dir'y ol' wizard in 'is purdy purple pajamas? At barstard woulda jus' kep' on hurtin peoples. Kep' on grindin' em inna da dirt, and walkin' on em, en wipin' da gore off'n 'is damn pointy shoes. An fer what, esactly? Money? What somebudy with at much pow'r e'en need wit money nohow? I don' need money-- What en? Pow'r? I ain't da brightest bear 'round, but e'en I kin see at sumbitch had pow'r ta spare-- So why does it? Only thang I can figg'r, is he wan' "CONTROL". Ain't enough to actually has pow'r, oh noes, gots to hurt odder peoples and rub 'er noses in it! Gotta keep em DAOWN. I's disgustin. I don right unnerstand how humans does it, an I dun wanna. Ain't in meh. I dun what I dun, ta make sure it end' right den an' dere. No more peoples gotta git hurt. No more lives ruin'd. I dun what I dun, 'cause I din' have no odder way."

The sound of bootsteps and steel armor clattering outside and approaching the door intensified.

"People likes at seems like dey be EAGER ta do at kinda thang. But I'll tells ya both somthun'-- 'Ere enough man in meh to be able ta choose fer muh ownself what I wanna do, an' how I does it- an I'd radder die in a dir'y wet hole, 'an capit'chalate wit' what you preachin. Ain't no amount a hot iron exist, ta compel me odderwise. Given muh druthers, I'da stuck 'round, and helped 'ose folks. Done all I could ta help em put 'ere lives back tughether afores we lef', but we aint got time... I ain't got time. Like uh said, 'bout two er three weeks, I's gonna be sawin' logs, weder I wants ta er not. I wakes up in at damn dungeon agin? Better bet your purdy elven arses-- I'd be lookin ta git out, and woudna be polite 'bout sayin' no ta any such demands."

It took a while for Cedar to finish his long-winded answer.

For Jazdia, a normative answer was as reliable as a politician's promise, it rarely offered a solution and was mostly a rhetoric to mirror the speaker's motivation and code of honor. How did a man-bear capable of having a way with words, that was a question for another time.

At least a sense of cautiousness had been instilled. But Jazdia still thought the consequences were not grasped fully by Cedar. As she was about to open her mouth to refute, Baker glanced at her signaling a hint to give it time.

Either by pure coincidence or not, when Matilda stomped closer into the inn like an angry ox, Cedar's solution for the matter became somewhat more practical, and she liked that optimism.

The entrance of Matilda brought an abrupt yet supposed end to their strategic conversation. Jazdia exchanged her glance with Baker, tacitly motioned him to put back his innkeeper mode.

"Greetings," said the man. Smiling. "Are you hungry? What can get you?"

---

“And with this invigorating discussion still underway, I think I will steal away Yvonne now.” said Solomon, he stood up, offering his seat to Jazdia, right next to the still warm pot of tea. Just as Solomon was going to say something more, Matilda and the prince had entered. The conversation seemed to have ended there.

“Perhaps something a little less charged. If at least for the youngling in Guard Captain Matilda’s care.” said Solomon. Though his words spoke about the prince, the way he said it put more weight towards Matilda. The way he said it seemed to be more for the attitude of Matilda. He wasn’t sure how she’d react to the idea Fred would act so callously towards those he pleaded help from. It wasn’t the most pleasant light to paint him in.

“Mister Baker, is there a free room available where I can attend to my energetic patient? Treating her here would be less than ideal for her privacy and modesty.” asked Solomon. Baker indiacted there was a space, mentioning a room up stairs. Solomon nodded and thanked him. It was just what he’d need.

“Miss Yvonne, if you would follow me, I can change your bandages. At least so they are not so irritating.”

The very moment that Matilda and the Prince entered the establishment, it was as if a glamour had passed over him. Ears came forward, and eyes sparkled, as the tone of voice went from gruff and serious to warm and jovial in an unsettlingly instantaneous way.

"Buh' is good ta know, an' is' right fine advice ta be careful. I'll do muh bes' ta min' muh manners when we git's ere, don'cha wurry none."

He made a jovial chuckle and showed only the most polite bit of teeth with a warm smile. "Thankya fer lettin' meh know!"

He turned his attention to the prince who had come inside, who seemed confused, and with a bit of melancholy. -- An emotional state he could relate with, for certain.

"How ya doin' young sir?" he chimed jovially, before motioning to the side of the bench beside him. "E'res room o'er 'ere fer you an' miss Matilda 'ere. Bench be good n' sturdy, shoul' hol' us all--- Come an be social!"

"Brother..."

"Hmmm...?"

"I forget to bring breads for breakfast....Heheheh..."

"..."

A huge sighed has been released by the big brother as they stopped in the middle route to their home. They are no choice but to go back again since Gepard promised Lynx that they having a stew for breakfast along with Baker's breed as also for the bread pudding she likes.

A moment of re-tracked to the Baker's in. Lynx was the one who entered first then followed by her big brother Gepard.

"Good evening again, Mister Baker." Said by Lynx with a face of embarrassment and his brother with a disapointment face on her.

"Bread for breakfast? Give me a second."

The baker enthusiastically withdrew himself from the group and manned his counter. The stew was boiling beside him, but still far from cooked. It was late and the display table was understandably empty, except for the items Nina made with that Delving maid this morning, that he should have been personally set aside for their own breakfast tomorrow morning. He wondered where the pirozhki bread had gone.

"I am sorry but we all run out. Why don't come back next morning at 9? A new bunch will be ready at that time."

Upon hearing it from the elf inn owner. Her hope was vanished. A felt of sadness but she kept remind calm and polite. She couldn't able fo return tomorrow so as her big brother. She look on her brother and Gepard shook his slowly. A sign of defeat.

"We shall try to come back tomorrow. Bye, Mister Baker." Lynx said as she gave him a sweet smile and a little wave to him. Gepard nooded to the an elven owner.