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

"I cuud do 'at.." Cedar drawled with a chuckle "Bu' why? Ya WANTS ta ache fer the next couple days or summat?"

He was thankful he had snatched his hood back from the short interlude at the farm before the whole lot of them had scurried off across town to the inn. He offered it to Yvonne earnestly.

"Ere-- Bite daown on 'dis. 'Is is gunna hurt som'in fierce."

Without much further elaboration, he collected her wounded arm, held it by the wrist then straightened it out, before placing it flat against her side while holding it gently taught.

"Naow-- wass-is about 'NOTHER bear-man?"

He started pulling the taught arm out, and away from her body, slowly raising it up to the side while the other hand blared with that vibrant blue corona on top of her shoulder as she bit down and made nasty faces.

"What'd I tell ya 'bout pickin' fights wit' sommat like me?" he chuckled with an ornery tone. "Ya's lucky ya in one piece."

Slowly, he raised her outstretched arm equal to her shoulder, paused a moment, before gently making a small circle with her outstretched wrist, then turning the wrist in and out, then slowly moving the arm up. Yvonne made a baleful glare, and sucked air, but did not fight him. This was clearly not her first time. That was good. There were several trouble spots-- Torn and healed several times, and not always well tended. If she'd let him, he'd try to help iron those out for her more later, but while he had her in his claws, he would do what he could right now.

"...'An whaddya mean-- at lil' girl o'er dere? Beat up at tall, strong woman o'er dere? Ya been rollin' round in jimson weed or summat? Ya gots to be foolin' me."

Carefully, he extended the arm just slightly behind her head, while continuing his administrations-- guiding the tissue to grow, refining the scar tissue that was already present to be more supple and smoother, and ensuring that nothing was getting 'stuck' during the process by keeping the arm in motion, while taking it through its complete cycle and range of motion. He changed the exercise to a forward extension, and began slowly letting the arm down.

Yvonne spat out the hood and shot him a dirty look.

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

"So, Explain tuh me ageen how it was that ya got's yaselves all fucked up like is?" asked Cedar, while gently running an ungloved claw down Yvonne's back and shoulder. A subtle blue glow emanated from the claw tips in the dull gloom of the inn's common area, which had been immediately transformed from a site of immense boredom into a flurry of sudden spontaneous activity.

He was trying to diagnose the severity of the damage before deciding on a patient to treat first, while Solomon conducted his own investigations, focusing on the blonde elf woman's hand.

"Ya gots a torn shoulder, all the muscles in ya arms an thighs is all chewed up from da inside like you tried ta lif' a boulder a couple dozen times, and ya gots 4 broken ribs. Ya is bleedin on the inside a lil tuh. ... Who were it ageen as been beatin' on yas?"

He was not at all happy about having dinner swept out from underneath his nose, and the tone had impacted his normally jovial banter. He was hungry enough to consider eating the lot of them, but that would not do at all with the current situation. Taken together, the frustration he was feeling was thick enough be spread on toast. The hunters from the cabin had gone from excitement to stark confusion, and were milling about the common room looking at the spectacle with poorly concealed interest, and a great degree of disbelief and shock, as dinner had been snatched out from under their noses too.

"An' what about the girl o'er 'ere?" he asked, as he and Solomon glided past each other, moving from patient to patient, each doing their own examination in their own way. Cedar pointed at the white faced girl hunched over the back of a stern and extremely confused Rascade police or military official of some kind-- All these extra people.. "What's er name?"

He ran his clawed finger down her back, and once more the subtle pinprick of blue light glistened on its, and the rest of his fingers, as he momentarily seemed to be looking 'elsewhere' or perhaps 'distracted', making his list of diagnoses.

"What da hell...." he muttered under his breath, while examining her. "..Some dumbfuck dun put a pin through is here lil girl's chest! Got 'er in da lung!" he gruffed, but continued his assessment "Shit job healin' it... salvagable-- Ain't all though... Malnourished... Ain't seen da sun in years, bones is weak.. Eyes is goin bad.. .. Ears feels like 'eys heard lots o loud boomin... and.... aw no.. which one a yas?... Wit' a lil girl? What's wrong wit' the lot a ya, doin' sommat like at?"

He huffed a deep breath, then cast dour, vaguely accusative look around the room, before very gently taking the girl from the soldier, and muttering to her almost inaudibly while he cradled her against his chest to move her to a table.

"... There naow... I'l be aright... Come on o'er here, an lay daown o'er dis here table fer a minute.. Don' try ta breathe or talk jus' yet... Ya'll start bleedin ageen.. Thassit... Righ' o'er here hon.. Relax..."

He pulled the common room table's bench out away from the table about a third of a meter, then levered his ample bottom on top of it, causing the wood to creak and bend under the weight. It was thankfully a sturdy bench, but it still protested under who was seated. The look of "Distraction" returned to his face as he gently leaned over the table, with the full paw of his ungloved hand placed over the drugged girl's back. The tiny pinpricks of blue light had swelled to an odd but dazzling blue incandescence resembling St Elmo's fire flickering from the claw tips, while the bridge of his nose furrowed, and the girl made plaintive shallow coughs while he worked.

"... Easy naow... Breathe in..... An' out..... .. In.... an' out.... 'at feel better, now dun it?.... In.... An' out....."

The injury had been hastily and improperly healed in a ham-fisted way that would leave complications if left untreated. He had intended to treat Yvonne first, but this crappy patch job could come unraveled with just a good strong cough, sending the poor girl on a fast carriage to hell from a bleed out, and required his immediate attention, despite the seemingly less severe outward presentation.

The girl had a severely weakened constitution. Her body showed all the signs of having been brought up poor and neglected, from thin and fragile bones to wiry and taught muscle stretched between them, to skin that had clearly never seen the sun. Some disgusting pervert had been "Wifeing" her as well. Lots of people called his dad a pervert for sleeping with a bear, but the real and true perverts almost always seemed to get a pass from society, as long as "things kept quiet." And it looked here, like things had "Been kept quiet" for a very, very long time. His dad was a lot of things, but at least the relationship between him and his mother was a thing of love, and not cruelty, like this was-- and his dad would NEVER do something like... this.

His mind wandered into a memory of when he was a much younger cub, and he asked his dad what a pervert was, and why some of the village kids called him that. His dad had been so calm, and collected-- loving and earnest with his explanations of what kinds of things some people did, and why society looked down on it, before elaborating more about he and his mom's relationship, and how it was only perverted to people who didn't, wouldn't, or couldn't understand.

He very much hoped, for this girl's sake, that there was something here that he just didn't understand, but he could not for the life of him, fathom how such a thing could come to pass without some kind of predatory bullshit happening. This little girl wasn't even fully grown yet, and her... Parts... weren't fully mature. The odds of her being a willing and enthusiastic participant did not seem particularly high, and he raged a little inside, thinking about some lout doing something like this to one of his little sisters.

He revised the injury, healing carefully from the center of the lung outward, and very carefully controlling the process to only peak on the girl's weak inhalations. Slowly, the very fragile tissue regenerated a small patch of scar where the wound was, but at least the two sides of it weren't "Stuck together". She wasn't in danger of coughing and suddenly bleeding to death any longer, but she wouldn't be running any marathons any time soon, and he would need to give her additional treatments to further refine and guide the scar tissue back into something that more or less resembled lung over the next couple of days. She was breathing easier at least.

"'ere naow..." he gruffed softly at the girl, his rumbling baritone voice vibrating the table with his stooped posture over the top of it, as he planted his weight on the free hand beside her. ".. At'll do fer naow... Jus' res' easy hon--- Breathe in, an' feel it-- It'll be a lil tight now an' 'en-- but ya'll live. I'll keep workin' on it, as ya can handle it-- but it'll take time now, ya hear? Fer naow-- just lay 'ere an' rest... don' try ta move. Just lay 'ere an' rest."

He straightened back up, then heaved in a deep breath, taking a moment to clear his head.

"A'right 'vonnie, yur next-- C'mon o'er 'ere---"

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

Cedar breathed a deep breath as Matilda put the man back down, hoping the situation was on the path to being diffused.

"Aright-- 'ats bedder. Now den.." he said, scanning the room quickly once more, this time looking for something sturdy enough to sit down on. He noted Reinhold's hastily packed bag in the process of the search. Coming up essentially empty for anything he could sit on, he grabbed two chairs from the dining table, and politely scooted them over to Ingmar and Bertolf, so that they could sit, then levered himself to the floor with a small thud as his back fell against the wall. Seated, he was closer to eye level, and he felt he would be a lot less imposing that way than being hunched over and looming over them. It was a lot more comfortable on his back that way as well. Having gotten all settled in the matter of only a few seconds, he continued. "I sees ya is packin', 'at means ya eit'er wanna skip town, or ya has some idear where them barstards is run off ta."

He chuckled, and made an almost mirthful smirk with surprisingly jovial eyes when motioning toward Reinhold, and his narcolepsy.

"An' if that fellar's so tired as he can fall asleep up'in th' air like 'at, ya's been at it awhile now. Anythung yas could tells us'd be mighty appreciated-- e'en if i's jus' where them dumbshits went through at. I's a purdy good tracker muhself.. mebbe I'd sniff out summat as you fellars as missed.'

He shrugged and raised one paw gently above his shoulder with the pad up in a shrug. "I's worth a shot a' least... say-- You fellars hungry? When we found that fellar 'Birk' in 'at ol' fort tow'r, he's practically skin & bones. I dun see much a hangin up ta dry in here neither. If'n you kids is hungry, 'at fellar o'er 'dere went an' paid a small fortune to fix me up-- 'em nice people at de farm down de road is a cookin' it up fer us. While I's can eats it all down no problem, it aint gunna happen all at once'd. If ya can get a bowl full daown yas faster an I can makes it disappear, ya welcome ta it. Jus' be social, an' tells us all ya does know, aright?"

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

@Eviledd1984@A5G

Cedar opened the door a bit, then popped his head inside while hunching over. Looking around the room, he saw Matilda holding one of the gentlemen he had come to politely ask questions from up by the collar like he was a misbehaving puppy. While he could certainly do the same thing himself-- He was more than strong enough-- it was just not something you were supposed to do with PEOPLE. At least, not fully grown ones, like that one. (Ornery, misbehaving kids-- like his baby brother and sisters, were an exception if you wanted to avoid having teeth in your shins, or getting bowled over.)

"uhm.. Miss Matilda, why ya got that fellar up in th' air like at? We's came ta ask 'ese fellars some questions, not scare em tills the' wets 'semselves... Put the fellar down.. ---You allright up there fella?" he drawled, trying to take in the situation and salvage it with as much polite decorum as he could muster.

He turned his attention to the other terrified man in the room.

"How 'bout you fellar-- Ya knows anythung about an ugly bald fellar wit' a big nose an' a jaw out ta here?"

He made almost comical gesticulations with his paws near is own head, as he made the description.

"Mebbe a silver headed fella wit' a smirk an' a cleft chin? Got one eye, like muh pappy?"

He paused a moment, as if trying to process something he might have missed.

"We's lookin' fer some fellars named Gerhard, Reinhold, Ingmar, and Bertolf--This *IS* a right place right? I mean, If' it ain't, I DOES apologize-- but the nice fellar down at th' farm as a said 'is was da place ta find em-- Don't worry none, I ain't gunna bite-cha."

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

Cedar shrugged at Solomon before responding.

"aww, dun worry tuh much 'bout it-- The nice fellar said he's a gunna cook it fer us no-how-- I'd prolly eat half o' it while fixin' it up-- Prolly works out better thisa way no how."

When solomon mentioned the potential for a fight brewing inside the cabin they had walked up to, it made him frown. He was raised to not start fights, or to try and get involved in them without very good reason, because it was how you invariably just got hurt. (or worse, hurt other people when you didn't really mean to, and have unending knock on consequences.)

He approached the small wood-framed home with some trepidation. It was "larger" than his single-roomed wood frame cabin, in that it had more rooms, but it was also "Smaller", in that it was not designed for his proportions. Getting inside and moving around would require stooping to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling, and other hazards-- fighting inside would be at a great disadvantage for him, unless he went down on all fours, --but he couldn't swing his walking stick that way.

He looked at Solomon, who had a similar look of trepidation on his own face, but for different reasons, clearly-- The building would be just fine for a person of his stature.

He sighed, then knocked politely on the door.

"Hey, uhm... Is this a good time?" he asked loudly through the closed door after knocking.

If there really WAS a fight starting to brew inside, it just showed a need to be mannerly more than ever.

"Polite and neighborly when dealing with strangers or meeting new people" his dad had stressed at him. "Try not to scare 'em"

He really hoped they would be affable and civil with a visit from a stranger, if they were so indisposed.

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

"I think not, Lord Constable Dickweed. So far, I count about 5 shots. How many do you have left? Why don't you drop that shiny little dome you are cowering behind, and come join me for a swim? Surely, one more piece of shit could not possibly pollute the river further."

Henri smiled viciously in the warm amber glow of the metal sphere, and continued his work. He positively SEETHED inside, thinking he had unintentionally tipped off the investigation to this sniveling little dog of a man, who cowered like a frightened puppy, practically wetting himself in his brother's presence. His opinion of who's head he would like to liberate from their shoulders changed identity. He would very much like to make this little shit squeal like the pig he was. To think, this little oaf of a man was one of the "Geniuses" behind the abduction of his ward, the erstwhile prince he had grown so fond of for his pluck and wit.

"Or are you afraid that you might get grime and dirt underneath those perfectly manicured little nails of yours? Clearly, never seen an honest day's work in their lives--Oh-- Or perhaps, since you're so salty, that you might melt? Hmm? Funny, how little rats like you always come for the cheese, isn't it Lord Delving? What's the matter, your big brother too busy to do his own dirty work today? Or does he not know where you are right now? Quite the pity."

He dunked the sphere into the water, where it hissed and sizzled, then filled it most of the way full with the fouled river water, then heated only the top part to seal it closed.

"I even went so far as to make you a little present. SOME of us pay attention when we read things in the library, and got promoted to the royal court on MERIT, instead of who their daddy fucked. Oh, I am quite sure you paid a lot of money for that gaudy little pig-sticker you have, but I MADE my shell-- ALL. BY. MY. SELF. Now, I feel I must part company, Lord Dipshit. I have a tunnel to collapse."

Henri then spread his core into the metal of the sphere, then willed it to soar into the air and nestle into the masonry above, seeking a stony overhang to tuck it behind, before slipping back into the water with a sploosh, leaving just his hand exposed through the water.

He began heating the canister.

He rather hoped delving would become so furious that he would drop the barrier and storm at him-- He'd pull that little prig into the drink with him and drown him right then and there.

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

Henri could barely peek above the rim of the ledge from his current position.

He could see Delving and his men taking shelter inside the glowing dome-like barrier he was projecting from his sword. He was using some kind of gaudy looking claymore. The men under his wing were all wearing metal breastplates, but inside the barrier, they were beyond his reach. One of them appeared to be having a hard time breathing, and another was leveling his musket to fire at the group cross the waterway.

If the swing with the hook earlier had been indication, the barrier is what had arrested his prior attempt to smack Delving in the back of his damn head. Cowardly prig was cowering behind that glowing curtain like a smug little bastard. Well, There was more than one way to deal with somebody like him--- Like trapping him over here, and forcing his pansy ass to get his hands dirty himself to get loose. And he knew JUST the way to make him do it.

Timidly and very slowly, he rose from the water enough to hang over the side of the canal ledge, first the left side, to get access to the iron covering his hip and torso on that side. The heating would make a bright light, and that is unfortunate, but it may also distract Delving's goons for a moment. The heat conduction through his body would begin to boil the water still surrounding his right arm and right leg, still submerged where he was clinging to the side of the canal. This was risky shit, but it was necessary.

Work was slow and difficult, due to trying to equalize the draw of material from that side of his body to avoid having a total and complete hole in the reinforcement, and due to the heat losses from partial submersion, but he commenced work on construction of a melon or large pumpkin sized "sphereoid", with a complex dimpled and form-stiffened surface from the sacrificed metal.

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

Henri swept with the pole, and collided with an invisible force, that slightly moved the pole further away. He felt the wall, but found that it did not extend through it-- only the stone of the wall.

This was curious. Either the barrier was spherical, or some other shape that was confined to its radius. A cylinder with a hemispherical top, or some other form. The simplest would be a sphere, and would be the most likely. Curious.

He moved further down the ledge of the canal, then deployed the hook to climb up just enough to peek above the water.

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

"If you can do that, be my guest..."

"Heya boss. Quite deep up in shit creek we are today."

Henri positively beamed.

" My lady, I would be positively delighted to."

The fog began lifting as he sacrificed some of the metal surrounding him, mostly from his back (which he presumed would not need as much protection for this plan), to fashion a long metal rod, which he poked into the water from above, producing an audible hiss, and lengthening it until he had determined the depth of the river.

" Goodness, That is quite deep, --with a deep current too. Try not to fall in, kids." he mused, as he continued working, withdrawing the length of iron rod, then altering it to have alternating triangular flanges along its length where one could step or climb, and a long 90 degree flattened hook on the end, before leveling it over a shoulder, and dropping into the inky black filth with a sploosh.

Undaunted, and weighing several hundred kilograms, he could feel the current tugging on him, but could resist its flow. He marched as close to straight forward as the combination of features allowed, until he could detect the metal of Delving's uniform, and his men's weapons, altering his course to correct for the flow of the water, and the otherwise complete lack of landmarks to navigate by.

As he got in range, he reached out with his will, and willed the musket from the remaining mook's hands, toward the back of Delving's head, as hard as he could.

Something-- he could not really see what, due to the turbidity of the water, prevented the attempt. Irritated, and undaunted, he lifted the hooked pole up, and swept it along the edge of the canal, aiming to snare a foot.

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

Cedar thanked the man, then shoved a fist full of the raw bacon into his mouth like a greedy child eating sweets. It was smokey and salty, but the fat was amazing. His dad had told him that he REALLY SHOULD cook pork first, to avoid getting real sick with achy muscles, but right now he did not care, and was beyond hungry. Really, if the bacon was cured right, the salt and smoke should have solved the issue on their own. He followed it up with one of the whole cauliflower, enjoying the satisfying crunchiness.

It was by no means "A meal", but it would have to do. Solomon was clearly very eager to get on the trail, and spending a few hours cooking did not seem like his idea of a good time (No matter how much Cedar felt differently-- It was bad manners to upset the person that just paid for dinner, after all.). Instead, he grabbed the large cast iron cauldron the man heaved and rolled out of the door, stuffed the majority of his swag inside it, then tottered off toward the far edge of the farmer's field, where it abutted the treerow, near the path they had walked up. It would make a decent spot to cook up dinner later, with ready access to deadfalls for the fire, and wood to work with to make bowls and spoons with. He snatched out some carrots, before putting the large water barrel down next to it, happy to get it off his back for awhile, then sat the smaller half-barrel of salted bacon down beside both, then laid the hood of his robe over the top to keep dogs and bugs out. He really should have asked for a canvas to put down, but he was so fixated on dinner, the idea of "Not Stopping" did not occur to him until the transaction was completed.

He would just have to go around with his head uncovered for the time being.

Crunching on 3 carrots at once, he tottered up behind Solomon, and wandered further up the path to go interview the locals.