wierdw

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

He *KNEW* it was a trap. Positively KNEW it. Everything about this woman screamed 'danger' at him, and yet, he could not help but feel very sorry for whatever poor sod she had trapped in her "garden" like that.

Arrows in the nostril. .. It made him cringe. The nose was quite possibly the most sensitive and tender part on a bear. Such an injury there would be beyond painful, and debilitating. Then there was the last bit: What did she mean by "above the legs?" Was he gutshot?

This was almost too much for him, to learn he wasn't alone in the world, and then be told it might not be for much longer. It was CLEARLY bait. CLEARLY. Very powerful, compelling bait. And it hurt. OH, how it hurt.

He needed to learn more, but the primary source had wickedly fluttered away just as unannounced as she had come. Maybe the others knew something, but he had to be discreet. The "Official story" was that they did not know each other prior to this evening.

He sat and contemplated for a moment, how best to "word" his line of inquiry about the mysterious old hag, and this baited hook she had dangled in front of his muzzle.

He loaded his fork with the "Salsify in creme sauce", and stuffed it in his mouth. Clearing his plate, and going for a fresh one would be an almost ideal opportunity to get close to those two to ask such a question, without being too terribly suspicious, he felt. Not too quickly though. If people were watching (and he could feel that they were,) going too soon would be a disaster.

He hated being among this many people.

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

Thomas York embraced his son momentarily, as one would a family member back from war.

"Gepard my boy, I understand your objections. You really must forgive your mother, she truly means well. I've heard the same rumors myself. It's been said that such individuals often are plagued with powerful impulses that they have great difficulty suppressing that make it significantly difficult to acclimate or adjust to civilized living. It's not their fault when and if they can't adjust. While one should not really put much stock in salacious tales like that, it's important to understand that there can be some trappings of truth with them. Your mother is just worried, that's all."

"Yes, Gepard darling-- You have no idea how reassuring it is to know you've already met this.. individual.. and found him trustworthy. Perhaps His Majesty's faith in him is not misplaced. Just understand my son, the ability to be civil in small settings might not translate to crowded and .. trying.. conditions like a royal soiree. There's no telling how he might react."

"Adela my love, don't be so harsh on the poor bear. He surely has enough difficulties as it is, trying to live among full humans like he does. He deserves our sympathy and help."

Adela blushed demurely, then took her husband's hand graciously.

"You are absolutely right, my husband. We should send him our heartfelt thanks for assisting our kingdom in its time of need."

"My sentiments exactly, beloved." He turned back to Geppard again. "There, you see Gepard? It's not really as bad as you think it is. People of privilege like ourselves have an obligation to help those less fortunate than ourselves, and given his current company, I can't think of another more deserving of that right now, than our charming hirsute protector over there. I shall have Gaston deliver a bottle of his drink this evening to his room, with our compliments."

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

Thin tendrils of frost curled then bloomed over the surface of Mrs. York's cup, as she gripped it tightly. The GALL of this elf-woman! To even SUGGEST that she and her Thomas were the 'disruption!'

'Unobtrusive behavior' indeed!

She glanced a look at the bearman, who had re-seated himself at the table, and was abusing what looked like a salad fork to eat his meat, and in a most uncomely manner at that, skewering half the entree on it's stem before stuffing into the side of his downturned face. It was revolting to watch.

"Adela my love, you're upsetting the other guests." Her husband lilted at her. She turned toward him with a furiously stormy expression, but he returned a loving, long-suffering one. That damned man's face could thaw an iceberg with its warmth!

"Second-guessing our host is beyond improper, my dear."

Thomas's voice was a buttery smooth assertion of the obvious that brooked no question, or compromise. "And besides, it looks like he wont be getting a refill any time soon dear, look who's perched on his shoulder."

Adela looked toward Cedar again, and this time saw Caitlyn Stritzel practically groping his forearm, then covered her mouth in demure shock and disgust.

"She didn't waste much time, did she?"

"Lady Stritzel is a loyal subject of his majesty darling... --but don't you at least feel sorry for the poor fellow? Look how bothered he looks..."

It was at just that moment that Cedar yanked his hand away and stared incredulously at the woman seated next to him.

"oh dear... you're right, of course, Thomas Darling...I'm sorry.."

He placed his hand around hers and led her away, murmuring in that buttery baritone of his. "There, there, my love. Come, let us enjoy our hors d'ourves, then have a little dance. That poor fellow will be lucky to escape unscathed tonight; there's nothing to worry about."

She let out a feeble smile, then followed him away, but not before sneaking an angry scowl back at Yvonne.

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

"It's YORK. Adela YORK." She retorted indignantly at Yvonne's backhanded dismissal of her station. York might not be proper nobility, but they could buy and sell Rosenving 5 times over, and this ... WRETCH in a dress damned well knew that!

"She makes a fine point, Adela my dear.." lilted her husband, Thomas. "Master Cedar would have been miles away from their investigation-- and besides, just look at him darling! I dare say, he could likely drink us all under the table!"

Adela made a fussy face at her husband, then harumphed. "I can SEE him just fine, Thomas darling-- That's the problem. You say he could drink us all under the table, I say he could break us all in half."

"Really now, Adela... that's quite likely the reason His Majesty hired him."

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

Cedar's ears involuntarily flattened and he felt his fur try to rise beneath his clothes. The way this woman was touching him was unwanted. Well.. that wasn't quite it either.

Part of him was intrigued, even .. enticed.. to say he hadn't suffered pangs of impulse to find a mate would be a lie, and this woman was by far the most 'knowledgeably willing' he had ever encountered: part of him screamed to accept, however 'less than ideal' the pairing would have been-- four long years of celibacy raged in his blood like fire-- but the other part of him wanted to rip his arm away from her in disgust and outrage; to topple the table on her and escape in the confusion with his honor and dignity intact.

He was trapped somewhere in the middle, mortified and frozen with the indecision that crippled him when this happened. Her hands continued to caress his arm, and unconsciously, he likened it to having it caught in one of the mammoth steel traps those idiot loggers had put out one year... his father had been furious, and had 'destroyed' every one he could find, entombing them inside the trunks of trees he had guided to grow up through the middle of them, rendering both the trap and the tree useless to those men.

She continued to coo and prattle at him. Something about protecting her assets.
-- He'd rather not.

Then something altogether unexpected, and his reaction to it was not altogether unlike having one of those traps snap shut on him: She had another bearman, not unlike himself, in her 'employ.' (He hoped it didn't mean what he thought it meant.) Moreover, he had been injured.

Feelings he didn't understand, but felt like... compassion, hope, even desperation, erupted down his spine like he had been hit with lightning, Involuntarily, he snatched his arm back from her and boggled in worried confusion. He had never even heard of 'others' that weren't his own blood kin before, and for some reason, this revelation both struck him as 'completely understandable and expected' and as 'world shatteringly profound, meaningful, and urgently deserving his full and undivided attention'. How could it have been that the notion that there clearly and obviously, were more humans like his dad in this world, and that subsequently, there should be more people like himself-- he was not, and should not be alone-- somehow evade him for the full eight years he had been alive!? ---AND ANOTHER *BEAR*, NO LESS!

"How bad were it? --He aright?!" he blurted out before he could even grasp the implications, which barreled down on him like a loaded oxcart full of bricks. This woman was in the BUSINESS of 'finding' other 'beastmen.' How many had she found!? Were they safe? What kinds were they?! How long had she had them?! So many urgent emotions cloying at him at once!

He sucked in a breath to calm himself, and shivered a moment with the effort. He could feel his blood racing, and his heart pounding deafeningly loud in his ears, and fierce in his neck.

Then another thought, slower, but ultimately the most profound.

Was she keeping them willingly?

His thoughts turned to Jorry, now safe at the bakery in Hdur.. where before? When he had treated her, the condition of her body had spoken volumes to him. The broken-ness of her spirit even more so. 'Humans as dogs' he had thought then, and it had sickened him. Now the same thought took an even uglier turn: beastmen... as dogs. ... even a 'puppy mill.'

He about lost his liquor, but fought to keep composure. He would endure this woman until he knew more.

He NEEDED to know more.

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...