wierdw

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

Cedar's ears flattened at the shrill laughter, with the whites of his eyes showing, but made no other sign of the declaration.

Hesitating a moment after Jazdia left, he remembered his manners.

"Oh.. uh.. Right.... muh name's Cedar, dat o'er dere be Kaito, an at's Veronica skulkin in the shadow back 'ere. 'Vonnie yah seem ta already knows-- an summare 'round 'ere be doct'r Solom'n-- good ta meetcha Alec, but naow, we REALLY gotta git ya outta em 'I's loaded wit' cash, please hol' meh fer ransom!' Nighties, an inta sommat less eye catchin, an quick."

"Nono, no' upstai'rs, at's where all da rich people stuff be at, naw, we lookin fer poor folk clothes-- daownstai'rs! Off we go!"

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

"Hmm,... dat a goo' poin'... but dey does taste like rott'n ass.." he muttered back, before palming another loaf of bread from the bounty and hobbling back to the opened trunk, this time extracting a red vial.

"Dontcha worry kiddo, 'slong as ya keeps outta sight, an' does what we tells ya wit'out askin' 'buncha questions, should be right 'tas rain."

He popped the seal on the red flask, hesitated a second, then downed it before uttering gagging and other sounds of protest while slamming a fist against the wall.

'Hot dayum! Dis yer idear o' a joke lady!? At's nastier an' usual! I think i'd radder DIE 'an drinks anodder of 'em narshty bottles a troll piss!'

He tapped his other leg on the floor experimentally, then stood on it freely.

'Works 'dou. But DAYUM.'

He shoved the bread into his face, eager for something to take the foul taste out of his mouth, then turned toward the prince and Jazdia again, noting forvthe first time the livid scowl she had.

"We gotta git him inta sommat nobuddy gunna knowed he were a prince in. Dirty up his hair a bit, an put im in common clothes. Hide 'im in plain sight. I's got plenty a dirt....' he muttered. 'We gotta fin' 'im some clothes.'

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

"Aww, leave the boy be!" Drawled the bear, stretching, before wincing, then starting to unwrap his left pawlike hand and arm.

"Don' count ya chik'ns afores they's hatched-- as what ma pappi taught meh. We kin haggle 'th'r majesties' when we gits 'im home...'

He stretched out the withered looking and disheveled 'hand', then made a grimace along with a fist with it, as eerie coronas whirled about it for a moment, then flexed it approvingly.

'No sense pattin yaself o da back fer a job half finish'd, naw is dere?' He quipped with a mischievous hint of a smile before moving to the other hand.

'On da odder hand....'

Once more with the wrappings getting unfurled, the wincing, fist clenching, and eerie blue glow.

'Ain't no harm lettin' the boy know 'e might consider wha'tis we mights all 'preciate fer da trouble, naw is dere?'

He made a sparkly eyed and big toothy grin that rapidly turned to a grimace as he unwrapped his chest and torso, sucked a beath, then shimmered in blue again.

He turned his attention to Jazdia.

'Anuh idears on how we gunna do 'at? Bout did us in, showin at old conjurer da door-- aint nona'us good fer nuttin right naow.... I' dat bread I smells?'

He limped toward the table, wrangling one of the leg splints free, as he went pausing to shove an entire roll in his face with a contentment that seemed out if place, before swallowing hard, leaning on the remains of the table and grimacing again. Blue light blooming around the leg then vanishing before taking a pause.

'uh might need anodder bottle....'

He muttered.

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

The spectacle caught cedar's attention, as yvonne dropped a sizable cask of wine down on the table and broke the seal.

Normally, he'd eagerly oblige getting shit-faced hammered. He really liked alcohol, and rather enjoyed the infrequent trips to the inn with his dad, but today he really felt it would be a terrible mistake with his weakened constitution. Just another disappointment on the growing pile of them that today had brought.

However, the bright blue potion caught his eye (though to him it was a tossup if it was blue or purple, but it had the right smell), and he DID know he wanted that.

Deftly imbibing the last of the hamhock in a way that bespoke lots of practice putting food away, he sat the bone down, then shambled toward the stoppered flask and took it without asking, popped the wax seal on the cork, and downed it in one go before making a VERY contented expression as it took effect.

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

At first there was no reaction from the bear, still breathing deeply in slow rhythmic breaths, until suddenly and without warning he made a snorting sound, the breathing stopped, and a mighty bandaged arm swooped the plate near his face as he awoke from his dreamless torpor into a dazed and feral state.

It was like this coming out of winter hibernation too; all hunger, disorientation, and wild instinct as the mind struggled to pull itself together and the body went on fully automatic responses. At least coming out from it this time he wasn't constipated or dehydrated, but the splints and dressings encasing his body and limbs made his movements clumsy and awkward-- the broken and fractured bones they were supporting drove a hot nail of pain through every action. It took several seconds of this raw torture for his mind to reengage, by which time he had already inhaled half the hamhock laid in front of him.

Human-like awareness came like the buzzing of angry bees in his aching head, bouncing first from terror at finding himself in unfamiliar surroundings, alarm at finding himself eating something without knowing where it came from, shock and dismay about having bindings on, and a flurry of other emotions and worries as the light of consciousness replaced the feral gleam in his eyes.

Deliberately, he sat the half-consumed roasted leg of pork down, inhaled deeply then coughed from the pain in his ribs, before shuddering, then looking around the room.

Memory of where he was, how he got there, who these people were, why his whole body hurt like he had gotten in a fight with a troll, and realization that the tight bindings surrounding him were not ropes, but splints and bandages --somebody had tended him while he was out-- clicked into place.

He sat there, half supported on his front limbs while still laying down with his hind quarters for several more seconds, drawing his bearings, appraising the situation, and feeling like a grand fool. He always felt vulnerable and self-conscious about the post-hibernation confusion. It was way too easy to hurt someone in that state and not even know it. Add to that, painful traumatic memories of the Rascade dungeons, and the sensations of being bound...

He shuddered, and gently shook his head.

'How long wuz I out?' He asked flatly, as much to save face as to break the silence.

The hamhock smelled and tasted better than it had any reason to.

He looked down at himself, and winced at what he saw-- emaciation, slack skin in loose folds, and mud-matted fur encased in clumsy bandages. Somebody had removed his robes-- a quick scan of his head showed them draped over the remains of the low bench he had been seated on during that so-called breakfast that morning.

This day had well and truly been terrible in every way he could imagine.

Suddenly, over the collage of fresh food, woodsmoke, unwashed humans, charred flesh, and acid-ruined everythings, a familiar scent he had committed to memory days earlier caught his attention. He swung his head altogether too quickly i that direction and snuffed loudly, before once more becoming acutely selfconscious of the spectacle.

There, near Madame Matilda, was the prince.

'Oh, thank what'er gawds may be, i's da prince!'

Relief washed over him like a cool splash in a mountain stream. He laid back down with the hamhock in front of him, and tried to relax.

'We got 'im.. we actually got 'im...' he muttered to himself, before resuming his meal, much more humanlike in the actions this time.

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

It took several seconds for the realization of what had transpired to fully register in the bear's head.

He had suddenly, and rather abruptly, been released from the clutches of his spell, then rather violently blasted down to the ground.

It had not been a graceful landing, and the standard pole was now a fractured and jagged bit of splintered wood sticking pitifully out of the water drenched soil. He himself was not far away, dazed as the world seemed to continue whirling, even after he had since stopped moving. The realization that he had survived slowly came, as did comprehension that he was outside, in the aftermath of a violent storm that he no longer had any influence over, but was still every bit as dangerous.

His whole body hurt. His arms and legs protested movement to the point of near total refusal, yielding only under the strongest willpower he could muster, and then with the rest of his body in open revolt, threatening to make him lose consciousness if he kept at it. He sucked in a breath, and it was a mistake. A violent bout of vomiting assailed him, sending him into a shuddering, coughing convulsion, before collapsing in the mud again, having fallen over from the loss of equilibrium.

He laid there for several seconds, as the world slowly began to slow its spinning, and the rain fell. He was cold. Tired. Wet...

Little by little, he carefully balanced breathing, and labored muddy crawling toward the blackened remains of the keep's outer door, as the world slowly stopped spinning.

He was a mud caked and rain soaked wreck of his former self, as he crawled through the gaping maw of the doorjam, and collapsed in a sodden heap on the floor among the spoiled, acid polluted remains of the fancy breakfast that had once sat regally upon the now equally despoiled dining table; itself in battered shambles of its former regal glory.

He was inside. That was all that mattered.

Exhaustion overtook him, and he passed out.

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

Cedar nodded at the affirmation of shots fired, then steeled himself for an even more wild ride.

He dared not look up, or out-- getting whirled around like this had him nauseous and disoriented enough as it is, adding a lack of consistent reference to his senses was downright foolish.

'Aright, ya heard da lady... le's git goin'..' he muttered to himself, as he pulled the flagpole in close to his chest, then wrapped one leg around the shaft for stability.

He reached out through the connection with the storm, and drew it in tighter as well, feeling for both asevor, the hail, and the arrows, and then givingbthe nudge to group all of them very tightly together in a very tight funnel of raging upward whirling wind.

He bit his upper lip, closed his eyes, and committed himself to the nudge.

He felt his own speed of rotation sharply increase, and felt himself get lifted higher as well, unsure how high now, having lost all references.

He hoped he survived this.

Really hoped.

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

"We found him. He is on the top of the tower. If anything, that should be more reason to keep Asevor away from this place. If you want to lift him any higher, then do what you have to do. My arrow can't reach any higher than this, so you are on your own, pal. We will take shelter in the tower. Good luck."

Cedar's heart skipped a beat in both relief atbthe prince being found, 9and panic over losing the assist at the same time. He needed, and WANTED, every bit of help he could get-- he'd need every bit of it to get out of this alive, and really was not at all keen on 'showboating'. Throwing all the chips in like this was desperation, not showmanship. Any and all help was GREATLY appreciated.

"On second thought, I have some regards that need to be delivered to our floating wizard. I have programmed my arrow to explode in 30 seconds upon reaching your altitude, do whatever you want with them, but I hope it's not something as shallow as martyrdom. Again, good luck."

Palpable relief.

'I had da same idear! An' no, I aint inta being no damned martyr, I fuckin' HATES dis spell, an only cast the muth'r fuckin' thang acause at dirty sumbitch jus' han'waved e'rythang else we dun throwed at 'im! Trus' me, I ain't enjoyin' dis li'l funride nun'tall! You jus' lay in as much fire an brimstone as ya can, an I'll suck em all in nice an' close like. Dey starts goin' off-- I'll uncork a bottle a lightnin' in 'is damn asshole! ---An git da damn prince offna damn roof! Aint safe fer man nor beast up 'ere! Git 'us scrawny human ass inna damn basement were it mos'ly safe!"
"

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

Cedar blinked in confusion as an ethereal, body-less hand flew up to him, and assumed an orbit in synch with his airborne spinning, before thrusting something into his free hand.

"You are making one hell of a mess here,"

It was the elf woman, sounding put-out and acidically cross.

He bellowed out "not my idea of a good time either!', but the trinket rattled on without him.

"If you heard my last message, good. If not, I am not going to repeat it."

This was more about not slamming that spindly old bastard into the ground like a fencepost. It made him angrier, somehow.

"You need to calm down. Asevor has a bomb powerful enough to level half of the city with him, and I swear to God it will happen if we stop him right now. He is trying to get away from the city, and currently heading to the southwest, seemingly lost all sense of direction. Luckily it's all plains outside the city. Now, if you want to keep your hide and alive, keep the pressure on him, slow him down until he is far enough from the city, then we take him down. How's that sound to you?"

Holding in the nausea from all the whirling and spinning, he held the trinket right next to his face before trying to answer.

"If dis dumbassed thing wurks buth wayz, en listen close. Da magic I'z been workin' got a kinda a minda its own, and bests I kin do is nudge it here 'n dere. I's is outta juice, an' if'n Is push too hard, th' spell's gunna make me dead as 'ell. I kinda wanna do at ol' fuck in firs'. "

He sucked a breath then continued.

"This ere storm aint endin till one a us is 6 feet un'er. No, afores yas asks, aint nuthin I kin do 'bout 'at. That fuck'r gits away, I'm one dead bear; storm'll eat wha's left a me, tryin to peg 'im. ... ...

I kin try an keep 'im pinned high up. Wuz plannin' on killin' 'im up'ere anywhoo.."

He was worried why she wanted to delay killing that bastard, after all the carnage he had caused. Then his thoughts turned back to why they were even here.

"DA PRINCE! DID YAS FINDZ DA PRINCE!?"

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

Coming around again from the East once more, mad as ever and eager to let that twisted bastard have his comeuppance, Cedar spied the old bastard trying to make a break for it, foolishly flying once again.

"THERE YOU IS,YA FILTHY COCK SUCKIN' SON OF A WHORE! LIKES TA BREAK PEOPLE'S BONES, DOES YA? FUCK EM AN DUMP EM IN A DITCH, LIKE YA DID 'AT BIG BASTARD O'ER YONDER?! WELL GUESS WHAT FUCKER, YA *MY* BITCH NAOW, AN IZ *YOUR* TURN TA *GIT FUCKED!*"

He bellowed, rounding sharply and levelling the ball-tipped end of the standard bearer pole directly at Asevor, as he felt the magic animating his movements, and his own will to move, finally come together in blissful, delicious harmony.

The wind he was dancing with literally picked him up, and spun him like a top suspended in the air, and moved him like he was nothing along a chaotic path just a few feet off the ground, while simultaneously coalescing around asevor like the fist of an angry giant, ripping the flying man off course, then slamming him repeatedly and violently against the sides of the keep.

The angry verbal spew continued uninterrupted as the wind raged, drawing the wizard further up the wall and higher into the sky the more he continued to struggle and be thrown back against the keep, and continually aimed away from the enraged bear-- the full force of the storm's magic completely bent on destroying him, as lightning and thunder intensified high overhead, giving foreshadow to what awaited him up there in the angry black wall of clouds...