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

The insipidly sweet couple glided back and forth, bowed, and bent with the ebb and flow of the music.

"Look Adela, It looks like Gepard has found young miss Kirsten Delving over there in the corner. A fine catch, don't you think?"

"Are you sure that's wise, Thomas? Given.. Recent events?"

"I've heard she was very brave in helping those poor people at Fanghorn, dearest-- and besides, Delving is an old and powerful family-- Well connected and wealthy. He's at least picking the right kind of person for the dance."

"I suppose darl--- Is that our Linceleste, heading for-- Oh gawd no..."

"What now my love? Oh--- OH.... I see.."

It was at that moment, that they had spotted Linceleste heading for Cedar and Solomon's table.

"Maybe she is going to ask that handsome doctor to dance? She IS an ardent student in the alchemical arts darling, don't discount her too..."

Thomas York trailed off, as the pair watched the bearman get up from the table, and head to the other drink table, causing Linceleste to stop in her approach, watch him with a frustrated expression, huff, then wander off to find another dance partner.

"Good heavens!" breathed Adela York.

"Thank the maker indeed, darling-- that fellow chose the singularly most appropriate time to go find some refreshment. We shall have to have a word with our daughter about her curiosity this evening."

"Absolutely.."

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

Cedar's ears flicked apprehensively. This was.. very unusual conversation. He thought hard, but could not remember ever hearing it's like.

He stepped back from the table with the manservant in kitchen's livery, as if to better observe the full selection, and cocked his head to one side as if he ere undecided about his selection, leaving the servants to frown apprehensively at his 'pondering' while they stood at attention with their ewers of chilled fruit punch, and flavored teas.

He had backed away from the table for a different reason of course; it afforded him a chance to get closer to the .. .. 'carousing?'.. that was happening behind him without raising 'excessive' attention. (He was well aware that his mere presence and proximity was cause for alarm for them, but he wanted to avoid 'outright panic' by pretending to be completely absorbed in making a selection. The tilt of his head was much less about pondering the table, and much more about having an ear 'up', and 'cocked to the side' so he could better hear what was being said behind him.

What exactly was going on back there?

He snuffed in through his nose slowly, trying to get more clues.

The room was a rowdy reek of food, drink, pipesmoke, and sweaty humans of every candor and type. Stritzel was so grossly pungent, she took a topnote even from here, where the table should by all rights, have won out. It was always a source of confusion for him, how incredibly awful human noses were, to NOT smell these things! For a moment, he wished he couldn't either.

With purpose and concentration, he studiously ignored the 'rowdy, clamoring stank' of everything except what was directly behind him.

One of the men (he could not tell who, only that it was a man, and clearly an adult one) had keenly taken interest in some lady. A young girl reeked of terror. Another older man found something riotously funny, an older woman smelled.. he didn't have words for it-- but people got that smell when under stress, and when they were losing the battle for the will to live.. and finally, a very youthful man reeking of frustration and anger, with hints of the same 'beaten resignation' of the older woman.

He filled in some blanks, and came to the conclusion that:

One of the men was lusting for one of the women.
The younger woman was terrified of what was happening.
The other man found it hilarious.
The older woman believed she could do nothing.
The boy hated what was happening, but felt he could do nothing.

He stifled a growl, and fought to keep his posture calm, and his ears erect.

It was too soon to make conclusions. It could still just be a misunderstanding.

He hoped it was a misunderstanding.

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

He scanned the room in an orderly manner, starting in the far right corner (from his perspective at least), then panning left, then repeating at incrementally closer margins. His eyes were not his strong suit, and the room was too full of chatter for his ears to really make anything intelligible out of the speech, but his nose was his hidden-asset in this enterprise.

Many people don't rightly appreciate how sensitive a bear's nose is, compared to say, a dog's. It's better. Much much better. In the wild, they have very large 'home territories', as it requires such to sustain a creature of that size, and metabolic need. This means that in order to say, find a mate, they need to be able to keep tabs on each other with many MILES of distance between them. Moreover, being opportunistic scavengers in addition to hunters, the detection of a fresh corpse, likewise. Cedar could detect the slight difference in intensity of an odor from one nostril to the other, in much the way humans can with hearing, to get distance and range of a sound's source. He could do that too, but he could also do it with his nose. He had just learned a long time ago, that it was "In-discrete" to talk about the many many things people unknowingly communicated to the world when it came to that subject; Everything from where people had been that day from the smells they had picked up in the environment, to who they had been seeing or spending time with, to what they had been doing that day, even what they had eaten for lunch or dinner. That degree of intimate knowledge was "unsettling" and 'worrying' to humans, once they learned he could do that, and he had since learned from a young age that it was "very much not a good idea" to bring it up in polite conversation.

In addition to the 'where', there was also the 'what.' People emit a wide assortment of smells that they are unaware they are emitting. Smells that indicate who is married to who, -- or is sleeping with who-- smells that indicate shock-- smells that indicate mirth-- smells that indicate fear-- confusion, doubt, anger, ... ... arousal..

His nose flared at the unwelcome reek of Caitlyn Stritzel.

He had been discretely 'scanning' the entire party's guest list from where he sat at the table, doing his best to filter out useful tidbits about the party goers despite the pungent odors of the food trying to blanket out the usefulness of that sensory apparatus, when he spotted a boy who's scent jarred a sense of familiarity. He was sure he had smelled....

His unconscious bloomed in a slow-motion spray of the now posthumous Baron von Kruber, as he became a rather fine mist of bloody particles and a deformed corpse after Jazdia's arrow had hit him. The smell of the man had been overwhelming. Why did they smell like him?

Then he remembered the tedious 'breakfast conversation' he had been forced to endure while being tortured with food he did not dare eat any of-- The fox-man Kaito had mentioned something about his having sons.. He must be one of them.

He discretely sucked more air in. There was a 2nd that smelled like the dead fat-man; a girl next to a woman, with both of them surrounded by a small group of well dressed men. He turned his head ever so slightly back and forth, scanning the three of them, noting the differences and similarities. The young girl had to be a previously undisclosed sister. He didn't understand why it was humans seemed to only ever mention sons and not daughters when discussing family affairs, as girls were every bit as important as boys-- in many ways more so, at least in his opinion-- but he chalked up the omission as just another of those absurd human foibles. The woman had to be the mother, as she smelled like both of the others.

He was sure Kaito had mentioned that there were TWO sons.. He wondered which one this was, and why the second was not here...

His attention became absorbed on them-- people that they had stolen their father from. Stolen a mate from. His heart sank, even if the fat-man had been deeply involved in the abduction and illegal incarceration of the prince. These people HAD NOT been at the keep that day, and there was a distinct chance they had nothing whatsoever to do with the goings on there. They could well just be victims, caught in the crossfire, like all the other poor people of Fanghorn that day. He wished he could stop thinking about what happened there.

He looked at the boy's face, and saw that it was dark and sullen. He knew that look; He and his brother had that look often as children when people had been mean to them. It had always been his father that had taken him up in his arms, kissed and hugged him, and told him things would be better one day. It had worked for him, even if it had not worked for his brother...

That insufferable impulse to rush to every sad and weepy child he came across gripped his chest, and he flinched for a moment before he could arrest it. Solomon would have certainly noticed, but he didn't care. He was overcome with an urge to find out the degree of involvement the family had with the goings-on at the keep that day.

There was another table loaded with drinks nearby-- From where he was, he could tell it had various fruit juices out on it-- He might be able to get in earshot discretely if he perused the selection and lingered.

He looked up, and saw the girl continuing her slow approach.

Yes, it was much better than having to deal with another deranged human who was too interested in him, rather than simply refusing to see him like he had come to expect as being 'normal.'

"uh'll leave ya tuhs it 'en. Gunna git 'nodder drink." he said nonchalantly, as he stood and began his leisurely walk to the far drink table.

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

Cedar nodded discretely, and quietly, but did not look at Solomon again. He was so unnerved he was fearful of his movements.

"uh'd be much appr'iciat'd" he finally managed, after a long pause. He had considered adding 'I'll pay whatever you want', but decided that would not be appropriate, in case people were listening.

His people watching had become an occupation of its own, and a forced distraction from his unnerved and nearly unhinged emotional state.

"If yuh can, lets muh know how many dere is tuh."

He sucked a breath, while watching a girl begin crossing toward their table. Gods, another one. He suppressed a shiver. "..An what condition dey in, if'n they is."

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

"Do you hear that my love? They're playing our song." said Thomas York with a naughty smile. Adela York merely greeted it with one of her own, before addressing her son.

"Gepard sweetheart-- You can't dance at home with your sister and I forever. Look at all those lovely young ladies out there, waiting to swoon over you." Her tone was almost a purring coo, but carried a subtle sting that it was time to stop being a young boy, and act like the grown man society expected of him.

"Make your father and I proud darling!--" she said with a smile, as she and Thomas rose from their seats, and moved onto the floor to assume their positions in meter with the music.

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.