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

Cedar looked down at the woman rather incredulously. While it was true he WAS, IN FACT, looking to one day (perhaps, fate willing) find a nice woman, and hopefully have some children of his own to roll around on the floor rough-housing with, and to show all the wonders of nature to, this woman was clearly old enough to be his father's mother. (and from his perspective, that was old indeed.) Worse, she had a kind of.. Pallor.. about her. Her "interest" clung in the air like the scent of yesterday's cooking, and made him feel more than a bit unsettled. She was bent and thin, and not at all what he found attractive.

He looked timidly over at Doctor Solomon, who's face remained inscrutable behind his mask-- then toward the masculine looking maid-servant, "Olga". Despite being entirely too bossy, Olga was not too terribly bad looking, if a bit plain. Not muscular in the way he found really attractive though, and the personality soured what little she had going for her.

"uhhh... I'm uh.. eight, ma'am." he nervously ventured. Maybe she would be like most humans, and consider him a mere child, and lose interest? "uh haven't made yer... acquaintance. Kin uh ask who you is?"

If he was going to be hounded by a ... very confused... old woman all night, he deserved to know who it was that was chasing him like a hound baying at a fox. Indeed, he *DID* want to be 'desired', but.. Not like this... This was.. No, he did not like it. She was for one thing, almost certainly too old to have children, and secondly, 'entirely too eager'. He had long ago decided that he was *NOT* going to 'compromise' with one-night stands. He wanted what his father and mother had-- A mutually respectful, loving, and somewhat playful relationship that involved interest, (of course), but a great deal of simple pleasure with the other's company, and genuine affection. That was not what this was... This was... "a rutting bitch in heat", but she was far too old to have even that excuse.

He hoped very much that she stayed right where she was, and didn't come any closer.

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

Adela York watched with mild distress as the hideous hulk of well-dressed fur shambled from its table toward the buffet. Images of the beast ravaging the selection colored her imagination, but to her bewilderment, the creature simply acted uncultured, rather than feral-- POINTING OUT entrees, rather than ordering like a proper person. .. And his highness was going to offer it a position at court?... Scandalous. Well, at least the food had not gone flying, as her gut impulse had suggested. Perhaps among it's kind, it was indeed 'high class.' The thought amused her, but quickly became replaced by even more distasteful thoughts as she watched him attempt to "Drink" his wine. Shameful! And in PUBLIC even!

She strode serenely to the buffet, and ordered herself a nice chef salad with a light vinaigrette sauce to start, with a sparkling punch. It was far too early in the evening to order an ENTREE, like that hulking beast had-- let alone break into the alcohol-- why, no-one had even DANCED yet!

She noted the two investigators having a bit of a baudry chat, and she wondered just what kind of people his Majesty had hired, though one could not discount the results of their enterprise. Getting closer, she noticed for the first time, that one of them was none other than Yvonne von Rosenving, the 'black sheep' of that financially distressed house. It figures that she would keep such company.

"A most .. memorable.. evening, is it not, Miss Von Rosenving?" she asked primly and properly. "I do apologize for butting in; but I could not help but notice your associate just now.. Are you certain it's wise to permit him alcohol so early?"

"Adela my love, don't be rude. It's clear he's never attended a royal soiree before, have some discretion dear."

"I'm merely worried about public safety, darling." she replied demurely. "I've heard the most terrible things about people like him."

She wondered to herself (Disgustedly, of course), just "which way" the 'union' that had spawned him had been. Was it the mother, or the father, that had been the beast? It was equally scandalous, either way. Druids tended to be socially distant, and to keep to themselves more often than not, but when they did appear in public, they certainly exhibited no such improprieties as... that... There were rumors of course-- dirty, salacious rumors-- of forbidden trysts, and the bestial offspring they could sometimes produce, when conditions (and sufficient abuses of magic) favored it. Possessed of human-like intellect, but bestial passions and mannerisms-- Any reputable druidic sect would deny any such allegation as shameless slander against their order of course, and yet, here was such a creature, and attested 'druidic origin' by his majesty himself no less.

It was an 'open secret' that Stritzel kept one as a pet in her private gardens, far to the West, near the border with Meche, where nobody would go looking. The old crow had certainly taken an interest in this new specimen it seemed, but had yet to circle in to test the waters.

She was worried about what might happen, should this ... creature... become drunken, and lose what human dignity it had, around such a person, or even, if it became frightened or agitated.

her skin prickled.

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

It was a confusing transition from one thing to the next. Without warning, men dressed in fancy clothes began to play muted and subdued music, as the castle's kitchen staff hauled in a train of white clothed carts, loaded with food and drink. Party guests began to mill about in an unintelligible babble of talk, as others wandered haphazardly near the provided comestible displays.

Cedar was gripped by even more new-found anxiety: It was clear and obvious that he was SUPPOSED to be meeting and talking with the other guests-- a thing that worried him. What if he said or did something wrong? Then there was the food-- just sitting there, waiting to be eaten-- that endless hail of advice his dad had given him about what was expected in more social human gatherings (and not the sort he and his father enjoyed in the village inn with their drinking friends, but more the 'if you should ever have one (which he had not, as of yet), fancy and formal kind') continued to rattle around his thoughts. He was worried, and acted such.

Discretely, he watched the guests at the buffet, noting how much of each entree or hors d'oeuvres they had selected, getting a handle on how much would be "proper" to select without making an ass of himself, then got up to make his own table run.

The serving man eyed him with an expressionless mouth paired with a suspiciously raised eyebrow.

"And what will sir be having tonight?" he asked stiffly, but pleasantly-- almost as if he had rehearsed this. Momentarily, Cedar wondered if this man had been working in the kitchens above the pantry, while he and Yvonne had been drinking earlier that day. He discretely wondered if he had already made an ass of himself, and was just now coming to realize it.

"oh uh.. uh'll has da roas' beef an..." he sniffed discretely "onions.. "

"Chipped beef and shallot au'vine, for the gentleman" he murmured, then gracefully plated a helping for him. "Will that be all sir?"

Everything on the table was a menagerie of things he could not easily identify. --Oh, he could tell what was IN them, more or less, from how they smelled, but for the most part, he had never even SEEN these things prepared before. Half the items he would normally just consume raw. This was especially true of the vegetable dishes, all of which were cooked to the point of superb tenderness, from appearances, and prepared quite elaborately. With names like "Chipped beef and shallot au'vine", and not "Roast beef with onions in a fancy sauce", he was at a loss for how to even order.

"Uh... sum ah dis, an... sum ah dat.." he finally managed, pointing at two promising vegetable dishes, one of which was obviously made with forest mushrooms, but he could not identify with what they had been paired.

"Salsify with creme sauce, and Ricotta Gnudi with Chanterelles." the man intoned "Excellent choices, sir. And what will sir have to drink this evening?"

For a moment, he considered the propriety of asking for a tall mug of ale, or perhaps another helping of the mead, but noted that such offerings did not seem to be available, or at least, did not seem popular with the food being served, judging from the aromas in the room. Not a hint of either one.

"Uh'll as'cept ya own judgemen' on 'at" he drawled nervously. The serving man made the faintest hint of a snide smile.

"Might I suggest a nice chardonnay?" the man said, while extending a bottle in white gloved hands. The bottle was well stoppered, and he could not detect any of its fragrance over the blizzard of scents the food was putting off. He decided that he should just go for it. "U'll take it."

The man expertly popped the cork off the bottle, then poured a single, thin-stemmed glass cup, the likes of which Cedar had never seen before, about half full, then handed it to him. "In Sir's good health." he said demurely, as cedar accepted it. The tiny glass vessel felt impossibly small, and even more impossibly fragile. How ANYONE could hold one without breaking it into dozens of tiny pieces worried him. Even more so, that the vessel would be very difficult for him to drink from. He thanked the man, then carefully returned to his table with his plate and glass, to resume his people-watching.

He stabbed several of the "chips" of the beef on the absurdly small fork they had provided him with (well, one of the forks anyway) and put it in his mouth, leaning forward discretely to avoid looking 'too much' like a beast. It was difficult to eat with human manners intact, especially with such tiny and absurd utensils.

A woman dressed in a shimmery blue (or maybe dark purple? It was always impossible for him to tell) evening gown had made her run to the table, and had engaged Jazdia and Yvonne, interrupting the two's apparently private conversation. A somewhat rotund man with short, well-trimmed sandy-brown hair and matching beard with mustache was at her side, as if the two were joined at the hip.

He did his best to try and get a taste of this ... 'chardonnay' .. whatever that was. The cup was especially troublesome, being too small around for his muzzle to fit inside of, and the beverage too deep down its slender form to easily reach from the top discretely, forcing him to have to use it in the most socially awkward manner possible: Reaching his long tongue down inside to lap it out.

...

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

The doctor's nonchalant and oddly calm voice lilted at him at the table, breaking his preoccupation with carefully studying the other guests.

"oh uh.. Yeah. Ya coul' say dat.." he responded distractedly, still worriedly eyeing the other guests, while sipping (or rather, discretely lapping) at his drink at intervals. "... Uh really dun' like it 'ere.. Da clothes looks nice an' all, but..."

he turned his head toward the doctor. "..It hot in 'ere, or it jus' meh?" He sat his drink down and frowned at it. "uh miss bein' outdoors.. Uh jus' wanna go home."

What would be the best way to say how he really felt? Perhaps, "obligation" was the right word?.. Maybe, but not quite... He struggled with it, and it came out a bit like a verbal carriage accident.

"E'res peoples I cares 'bout-- critters er' not-- as I worries 'bout. E'en the 'act'al' peoples in da town, e'en if dey is arseholes tuh meh more of'n 'an not... I's tired, an' feels da win'er approachin... uh only really come ta stop da war ya knowed?"

Realization that he needed to be more guarded with his conversation, due to the interruption of the oddly dressed man, and the subsequent interruption from the Delving patriarch, fluttered like a shadow over his consciousness. An unwelcome, offensive shadow. More things he did not like about this place, but lacked the words to address clearly.

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

Cedar wanted to take the fancy clothes off.

Being half human had.. certain undesirable qualities, such as having sweat glands. With this much fabric enclosing his frame, with fur between no less, it had him feeling insufferably warm. He did his best to ignore it, and to chase it with gentle, and discrete 'laps' of a nice iced beverage that had been provided. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it was cold, mildly sweet, and refreshing. Sadly, it did not taste alcoholic. He wondered if the king had gotten wise to his and Yvonne's little visit to the pantry earlier that day. Surely he didn't think he could get drunk from just that little taste, did he?

One of the guests, a well dressed, but clearly haggard looking old woman, kept leering at him with glittering, deeply interested eyes from across the room, and it bothered him. He had no idea who that woman was, but even with his nose full of spiced rum from earlier that day, he could make out her "intentions" quite clearly, and it left him very uncomfortable. Adding to the discomfort, was being put up front, and in the center like this. Sure, he was a guest of some prestige apparently, but this was not him. Fancy clothes, brushed fur (Gods, the girls had spent over an hour fussing about it!).. No. It was not him at all. He felt like a fish that had been thrown up on the riverbank, gasping in the sun. He wanted to be home more than ever, but did his best to hide it. Humans were very peculiar creatures, with peculiar habits, and even more peculiar tempers. He *NEEDED* to be a perfect gentleman right now, and every bit of wisdom his dad had dispensed to him on how to behave kept rattling through his brain like hail on a rooftop.

.. at least the drinks were cold..

He made note of the appearance and scents of the Delving patriarch and his children, which he recognized (through the latter) from their appearance at Fanghorn.

He looked over at Doctor Solomon. The doctor was the very image of poise; relaxed like a sleepy cat near a fireplace, and perfectly at ease as he sipped his own drink. That man permanently stunk of something long dead; long past the smell of putrefaction, and now fully into the scent of old grave dirt. Cedar wondered why the man at least hadn't washed it off? Had there been problems with getting him a bathtub too? Curious... He did look quite sharp in his new clothes though. --Though he supposed he himself did too, but in truth, it made him feel ridiculous. At least the smooth "undergarments" that strange man, Mario, had made for him were somewhat wicking the heat away from him under all this. He very much doubted he would actually try to use them as "sleepwear" though. Nothing beat being naked for that.

He casually wondered when the food would be served. There was supposed to be food.

What did it even mean, "A position in my court?" His thoughts took a dark turn down a dark alleyway, that collided with Baker's loaded questioning. He didn't like it at all. He needed to think of a polite, and non-offensive way of refusing the offer...

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

Mrs. York instinctively gravitated beside her husband, as the candor in the room intensified. A truly foolish reporter was asking loaded questions that could well send some-one to the dungeons for a 'cross-examination', and the clan patriarch of house Delving had traded a dangerous stare with their host, culminating in a rather frosty and multi-entendre 'toast' being proposed, and accepted. She raised her cup ceremoniously, and drank, then leaned in close beside him.

"Thomas Darling, are you certain it was wise to attend this soiree?" she asked in a demure and hushed tone, while seated at the table. Normally, she'd reserve this kind of idle chatter for when they were on the dance-floor, but as yet, no music had been started.

He chuckled in an amused tone, then grasped her left hand beneath the table with his right. "Adela my love, you worry too much. His Majesty is sure to enjoy our proposal, once we can speak in private." He turned is head to face hers with an expression full of well-practiced political charm. "and you know what that means."

She gripped his hand in hers tightly beneath the table, but made no further signs above it. Yes, She DID know what that meant. As it was, a war between Kindeance and.. well.. ANY other nation, would throw their family's finances into chaos. Her husband had formulated a plan to bring the York family into the next century, with an ambitious plan to renovate and bolster the nation's industrial capacity, through leveraging recent events to push back against decades of resistance from the local populace. The recent destruction of Fanghorn mean that reconstruction of that city-- and of it's agricultural basin, from what she had heard-- would become a political necessity, and that left opportunities for those that knew how to get access and exploit them. She squeezed his fingers between hers, and smiled beautifully-- Her husband knew just how to do both.

The York family were reputable spice merchants; risen to prominence in the tide of His Majesty's pro-business politics, and satisfying thousands of customers in the city of Rascade alone, and catapulting them into wealth and luxury over the past 4 decades. She was a lady of refinement, and was accustomed to a certain degree of.. luxury. However lucrative the spice trade was in peacetime however, it would dry up and blow away if the nation went to war: Shipments would get impounded at borders, Borders would simply close, ships would be sunk at sea, and over and through it all, there would be dizzying spirals of increased taxation to pay for it all. If nothing was done, and the nation went to war, she would be wearing rags in less than a year. The thought terrified her, but she knew and trusted her husband, her Thomas.

He was a somewhat portly man, with well groomed hair, beard and sideburns, given to sampling spiced cakes and wines to assure the quality of their products, and it had started to show on his physique-- but he was a charmer. Oh yes, a charmer. That man could spin a deal out of the most ephemeral of meetings, and here he was tonight, with ambitions to meet with King Fredericus himself--No intermediaries. She hoped his plan was successful. For all of their sakes.

Beside them, on either side, were seated their two children. The lovely Linceleste to Thomas's left, and her handsome young Gepard, to her right. Linceleste took after her; though perhaps a bit more bookish in her mannerisms than is healthy for a young girl just turned 16. She got that] from her father, but it had served her well enough, getting her a fine placement at a prestigious magical academy. Thomas had been discretely indulging her for years, creating opportunities for her to practice her 'hobby', and perhaps one day, spin it into a lucrative branch of the York brand of products. There was a similar story with Gepard, though she liked that line of work far less. She was glad he was safely here, with them, tonight. She hoped he would make a good impression, for his sake, and theirs. Soldiering was honest work, but it didn't 'pay the bills', as her husband would say.

She diverted to idle small talk.

"I see his majesty has found most peculiar bodyguards for the young prince Alec..." she murmured coyly. "..Stritzel seems to approve at least..."

"Perhaps we could suggest a nice perfume for his linen closet; however finely dressed, he's sure to scent the sheets." he murmured back with a coy grin. "Perhaps something in musk.."

She withdrew her hand and smiled coyly. He was such a kidder, but she didn't put it past her husband to make a sale like that either. Tonight was poised to be very profitable for the house of York indeed, if all of them played their cards right, their children included.

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

Cedar grinned eagerly (and with a fair bit of mischief behind it), then loaded a full mug with a pouring of the mead, leaving room for 2 fingers of the spiced rum, then proffered to the doctor.

"here ya go!" he beamed, then loaded his own mug up with the same mix, sitting across from him, Yvonne, and the maid; Jeanie. "Sos-- Les' git ta know each odder beh'er, eh?"

He focused his attention on Jeanie. "How's 'bout yous? What it like, workin' 'ere?"

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

Cedar made a slantwise scowl, while twisting his lips to one side (which was a rather unusual expression to see on a bear), then chided the good Doctor--

"Come on naow-- We jus' havin' a bit a harmless fun! Ain't we 'Vonnie? Asides, a few mugs a ale *IS* a good meal! Fatten ya righ' up doin' 'at!"

he made a jovial slap on his (now very firm, and slimly muscled) belly.

"BES' PART, is dat it don' leave ya full fer hours neither! An wuts 'at 'bout ya thinks uh won' fit in da loo? What you goin' on 'baout-- Ya mean DA OUTHOUSE? Shucks fella--- Who you think you talkin' tuh! I's a BEAR, I goes outside!" he chortled bemusedly, then padded the bench next to him. "Naow c'mon an' sit daown, an' be soc'ible! I'll pours ya a drink!"

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

"Oh, It'll beh FUUN!" drawled the bear with a happy smile. "Sumbuddy complain, dey kin takes it up wit us! Naow-- What-- outta all-a DIS-- does ya thank a big scarry bear like meh shoul' try nex', HMM?"

He gave the maid a playful bump with his butt, then collected one of the mugs that Yvonne had indicated.

"We gots ALL AF'RNOON!"

He replaced the small wooden keg back on its stand, then resumed sniffing the room, coming next to a clear glass bottle with a very fancy label he couldn't properly read-- The letters were very fancy looking and hard to discern from the patterning of the label's woodcut imagery. It smelled like expensive spices, and reminded him of sweet-cakes that the innkeeper back in Mystville sometimes served on special occasions. He got a cheeky smile, then broke the wax seal, and poured a shot.

Drinking from a mug was not something he could do 'politely,' so he covered his face and the top of the mug, as he stuck his snout inside, and gave it a discrete lick, getting booze on the top of his nose in the process, sending it burning. It was profoundly flavored of cardamom and cloves, with a hint of black pepper, but also subtly sweet. If it weren't for the burning of his nose causing his eyes to water, he would consider it another favorite.

"Hooooooo DAYUM... WOOooo!" [*SNORT*]

He spun his head around to see Yvonne, who was pointing and laughing at him.

"forget what ya sees, just tell it tuh me straight naow-- What is dis shit?! i's GREAT!"

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

Cedar followed the elf-woman's directions to the letter, eventually letting out into a humidity controlled, and cool room lined with barrels that let off heavenly smells.

True to the elf woman's word, there was Yvonne, (pretty as ever), busy inspecting various bottles and barrels. The aromas of several liquors wafted in the air, tattling on her having sampled a few while he was still upstairs.

"--Uh see ya ain't drunk it all yet!" he crooned with excess joviality. "Whadda we gots 'ere?"

He busied himself with the other side of the store-room, sniffing at various kegs and barrels. Something labelled "Mead" caught his attention, stored in small casks. With a mischevious grin, he lifted one off the rack, and carried it to the center of the room. "Ya ever had ... 'MEAD'... Afore? smell nice & sweet..." he drawled, reading the charred lettering on the barrel. He broke the seal then turned the bung with it suspended over his mouth to let a thin trickle hit his tongue, and instantly fell in love. It was clearly made from honey, and had a subtle sweetness. It was also very strong liquor, that burned his nostrils. Quickly, he closed the bung, then came up for air.

"WHOOOO!! Ya gots ta try it!"