Grade

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Henri slapped the desk. This guy, seriously... "Tch. Obviously I'm not here as an imperial tutor, if the one I aim to teach has been missing for a week." He side-eye glared at this blond oaf. "I'm here under the direct employ of His Highness to investigate the kidnapping of the Young Master and the attempt on His Highness' life." No, he's only entasked to bring back the Young Master, but if he were to guess what excuse Jazdia's team gave the guards, it'd probably be somewhere along these lines, or at least the part about investigating just the assassination attempt.

"Those three probably said the same thing, right? No, it makes complete sense that you didn't believe them, since Matilda wasn't there." He leaned back from his chair, holding the whiskey bottle upside-down, balanced on merely his right index finger. He notices Aaron's expression change with the mention of Matilda. Hmm. So it's like that, huh? "But then, she must've seen ahead of time and handed them the Royal Seal... Hm." He lazily pointed a left-hand finger at Aaron. "Did that Yvonne Rosenving injure your knights because you chose to ignore even His Highness' Royal Seal? You let your petty disdain towards Matilda impede His Highness' business?"

The lights in the room dim, and Henri's eyes glow a hot orange. At the walls of the room too, the animals whose heads adorn the walls as a trophy, their eyes too shone orange, and began emitting smoke.

The lengths he has to go through just to get a prissy noble to talk. This Aaron's been eyeing Henri cautiously ever since he went in. If he were to guess, it's this same unnerving feeling everyone gets when they meet him, when the subconscious just screams that Henri's not human. He noticed it from Jazdia too.
If it's to speed up this farce, then Henri shall reinforce Aaron's fear.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

"Henri greets the Constable."
If this is one of those stuck-up nobles, he needs to to present himself at least this much. Although it was irritating, not everyone's as carefree about these insignificances as Antigone.

The door opens and closes by itself, away from Henri's preoccupied hands still carrying the three crates of wine. He did think the room looked nice, but he never understood this pride the humans took from killing animals, so much that they'd plaster their heads on a wall like this. Especially that elk.

Henri sets the crates down the carpeted floor as he sits. "Indeed. Would you care for some eighty-year-old wine? I have whiskeys here," he reaches in the crates and holds up a bottle of the whiskey slightly above the height of Aaron's desk, "or is vodka more to your liking? By the way, I heard about what happened in the mausoleum. Per chance, did it involve a blond elf and two teenagers? Please spare no details."

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

"Hm."

Henri hated dealing with the stuck-up royal guards, but understands that they're just doing their job, after all. Yet, it irritated him a bit. He thought he held enough rank for them to not redirect him and waste his time like this.

He began walking away from the royal guards, but not before he subtly punished the one that spoke, by willing his armor to suddenly tighten at the 'lower' area, inflicting pain in his nuts.

~

This is the constable's office, right? Assuming it hasn't changed in the last several years. What's this kid's name again...
He knocked at the door. "Aaron. It's Henri." Right, Aaron Delving. One of those nobles who tout their nobility like it makes them superior to those that are not... Or so they say. He never witnessed it first-hand.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Eighty years? Is that good?
He regretted a bit that he knew nothing about wine, not even having drank any while he actually lived, for he died young and inexperienced.

He touched his forehead and chuckled a bit, hearing that some royal guards got injured. It was definitely those three, they tried to enter the mausoleum to investigate... If he were to guess, the guards didn't believe them because Matilda wasn't with them? They really shouldn't have split the team up like this.
That leaves the fact about injured royal guards... It must be that Yvonne girl. That notorious, avid purveyor of violence, to a point that even Henri knows.

"Hey, don't demean yourself like that. In the end, we're all humans in the face of death." As someone who was merely adopted into nobility, that oddly struck a nerve with him.
He lifted his three remaining crates of wine and began walking away. "Well, I'm off now. Drink those after your shifts."

~

"Gentlemen." Henri approached the guards at the memorial park. "Heard some of you got injured. Where did the assailants head off to?"

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

... Recent development? Henri raised an eyebrow.

Ah. So he didn't miss the three of them on the way. They must've not left yet... Or they took a different exit? Hm... It's no use overthinking it. "Ah. That's good to hear, then. Keep up the good work."
It's curious, seeing them all anxious like this. He might've went overboard with the intimidation. He felt like making it up to them, it seemed like his fault after all.

He sat two of the crates parallel beside each other, then placed a third one perpendicularly so he had an impromptu chair to sit on, then opened the fourth box on his lap. "I can't remember if you're allowed to drink while on duty, but I found a box of..." He pulled out a bottle to look at the label. "Oh, whiskey. Alright. Here, share it amongst yourselves. I won't tell your higher-ups." He smiled, gesturing a shush with a finger hovering his mouth. "What is this 'recent development' about, though?"

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Wow, that's a lot of bottles. He can't quite tell what liquid it contains, but following the theme, this has to be some really old wine. He bets this tastes good...
Taste... It's been far too long. He can't remember the taste of anything anymore.

He stacked two of the crates on top of another two, then carried them close to his chest as he carefully scaled back up the stairs, and into open air.
He lay there at the floor beside the stairs, ridding himself and these crates of any water by evaporating them into steam or pouring the water in the crates back into the stairs. Now that he can see, these are whiskey and vodka. Each crate seems to have a piece of paper but it's unintelligible due to the water swirling the ink.

No way in hell he's carrying these throughout this entire journey. It wouldn't be quite a good thing if the team gets drunk at an inopportune time, either. However, disposing of these wines would be such a waste.
An idea pops in his mind. He takes out one bottle of whiskey, and places it near the first step to the sunken stairs, above a metal plate that he just freshly minted, with writings etched onto it that will hopefully be read later. He carries the four crates of wine and skates out and away, back to Rascade.
He tears through the marsh, a wall of mud emerging in his wake, yet he himself was dry, for it is physically impossible for him to be behind or beside himself.

On the way to Rascade, he trips once on a rock and hurtles down the ground, rolling. However, with his experience and presence of mind, he makes the four crates stay afloat with Core Spreading and Telekinesis while recovering from his roll back into proper standing position, gently catching the crates that floated into his arms, without losing any speed.

~

Two hours later...
"Henri Dominique Gentileschi. I am the one you call the poltergeist of the castle, the repairman... the prince's tutor."
His iron kite shield floats on its own, pressing on the northern gate guard's neck. It's not sharp, but the speed at which it flew from Henri's back, as well as his demeanor -- his forward lean, his facial scowl -- unintendedly caused by the exhaustion of using Telekinesis on himself and four other large objects for two straight hours... It all worked out to be quite intimidating.
"Have I refreshed your memory yet? Let me in."

The shield gently flew back to Henri's back, and he was about to walk past the guard when he remembered. "Ah. Did you happen to see an adventuring group of three? Two short teens led by a blond elf?"

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

By this amount of barrels... How much of this waterlogged room is just wine? If someone else swam in here, would they get drunk?

He grabbed one of rotten barrels and cast Inorganic Heal on it. Yeah, that would work. He tossed the repaired barrel aside, back into where he found it, as he focused on the two chests beside the corners of the barrel racks. Wait. He walked a little around the table, and saw a third chest, and a fourth. Ah.

He summarily kicked the table and chairs aside, disintegrating them into nothing but a disheveled wood pile on one side of the room, and willed the chests to scoot closer to him so they're all at arm's reach. These chests... It's probably safe to open them underwater, right? These chests don't exactly come waterproof.

Henri began opening them, one by one, with his own hands so as to naturally dismantle any such magical traps laid on them, while using Telekinesis to basically command the locks to release or be shattered.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Invoking Golem Automaton's 30ft-radius perception to be able to 'see' solid surfaces and temperature in the water.

As he walks deeper in and the mineral oil grease seeps upward out of his body, he wondered. What exactly did he expect to find here? These lower floors must have been submerged for an innumerable amount of years, exploring this has a massive chance of being completely fruitless in relation to finding the prince.

Nevertheless, he pushed on, down towards the cellar. He was curious.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

The fly was incinerated upon approach, and he irritatingly shot the ashes and paper in his hand forward, making a cloud of black smoke and a decent smear on the wall.
His usefulness to this team at this point was already questionable, but it only seems to dwindle further.

No, there's one more foray left to tackle. Henri moved closer to the stairs and carefully discarded all the items that weren't his but Cedar's, then headed down the stairs, meeting the other four members mid-way.
As he took something off from inside his coat, "Cedar, I left your stuff in there. Matilda," he handed back her family's medallion, and walked past them. "I'm going to check the submerged floors."

His shoes make an awful amount of clacking noises without Cedar's boots, huh. Putting bronze soles on his shoes for easier sliding and skating... It definitely is one of the ideas of all time.
After making sure that all the items within his body are fully sealed to prevent water damage, and depraved of air to prevent buoyancy, he walked down the waterlogged stairs and into the water.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Decks of cards, huh... This'll be good to pass the time. It's not as good for throwing as metal ones, though. He'll take one of the 52-card decks, nevertheless.
The bottle of an unknown, unlabelled liquid caught his eye. He wouldn't know that it's bug repellent, because he never had a need to use one.

A dead person.
He scratched the back of his neck. It bothered him. He checked the wound. Looks like a deep stab.

He never did quite check if Inorganic Heal worked on corpses. Looks like it really doesn't. No matter how much he wills it, the stab wound refuses to close. He could close it another way with Telekinesis and then cauterize the wound with Temperature Increase, though, but best to not tamper with evidence.
It's not because his spell has stagnated, right? He just used Inorganic Heal this morning in front of Antigone. He grabbed the broken hunting bow beside him, and tried to cast it again but it also didn't work... Wait, this one's not broken. It was intentionally unstrung. He snapped the bow in half then cast it again. Oh, that worked.

He walked back to the center of the room. So many items to sort out. Seems like they've prepared themselves to live here for weeks before the attack. So much food. This fortress seems quite a considerable distance away from the capital, so he wondered how they could coordinate the attack so well. Were they delivered the attack orders through mail? There are no papers to be found here, though. They must've thrown it away, or burned it...?

Henri approached the toppled cookpot, and the pile of ashes mixed with tiny scraps of miraculously unburnt paper. This does look quite like a dead end, these pieces are blank... but he hadn't been taught by the great Smoldering Ember for nothing.

He scooped up as much ash and paper as he could with his hands wearing Cedar's oversized gloves, and cast Inorganic Heal on them.