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Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

[Royal Palace, Kindeance]

The winter had been a hectic few months. It was a period when everything ground to a halt, where everyone was content to just tide it over until spring. In such idle times, gossips and rumours spread like wildfire amidst the bored populace and... well, it wasn't the good kind.

Despite the king's best attempt, the voice demanding war never faded and on the contrary inflamed further with every passing day. The duchess was busy preparing for that inevitability, alongside some projects that Theodore wasn't privy to. Not to say that he wasn't busy himself, but his responsibilities were on a much smaller scale. And one of them was to lay the groundswork for the mage reform. And to that end, there's one individual that he needed contacting.

He tried scrying to the fourteenth medallion occasionally through the winter, but true to expectations Cedar was likely hibernating. The trinket was in a dark enclosed space and as far as he could tell hadn't moved an inch the entire time, thus the only option was to wait. Once spring came he scried periodically, at midmorning every three days without fail like clockwork. The first few times had failed, a small suspicion budding that the medallion was ditched in a hole somewhere, but eventually it received a feedback response.

On Cedar's end, a translucent image of Theodore projected itself out of the medallion. It was off-center, with depiction of a room filled with books and unusual contraptions fading around the edge of the projection.

"Ah, master Cedar. I was wondering if you'd wake anytime soon." He greeted, his visage carrying a carefully manicured mild and polite impression. "Is this a good time to talk?"

[Great misty forest-- Meche border]

Cedar blinked in confusion, and nearly dropped the medallion in surprise, but instead just oogled the image incredulously for a few seconds, before responding.

He was mindful of the fact that he must look very haggard, given his 'nearly didnt make it' condition.

"Uh.. Uh s'pose so... 'is weren't haow uh'd a thought'a sayin' hullo 'dough.... whatcha need 'ere lil' fellar?"

Theodore Steinwell was not really all that "small" of a person, but he was still fairly young, and most importantly, smaller in build and stature than Cedar himself was. In the greater scope of things, Theodore was many many years Cedar's senior, and despite appearances, was the very image of the coolly collected intellectualism distilled into mages everywhere.

His demeanor reflected this flawlessly.

"I'd like to confirm your availability for a visit, considering how our conversation ends hastily last year." If Theodore had any personal opinion about the bear, he's showing no outward sign of it. Instead his chatter was businesslike as usual, unhurried as if the crisis wasn't in full swing at the moment. "And perhaps you'd like a report on how Fanghorn fares while we're at it."

Cedar, however, was anything but that. He was very much the rural scion of a hermit in basically every way imaginable, including temperament, though he DID try to behave himself. Sometimes it was more difficult to do than others.

"Uh though' you lot said you'd take care uh dem people!"

He blurted suddenly, almost throwing spittle with a shocked, incredulous ferocity that stunned even himself. He quickly reigned in the outburst, sucked in his lips, and tried again, imposing a lot more self control this time.

"Sorreh... bu' as uh kin'a blurt'd ayout 'ere... uh wuz unn'er deh impression at you nice folks was takin' care o' 'em poor people...."

He made a pregnant pause in which he sucked in a breath, held it, then chewed the inside of his lips for a moment before resuming.

"...it been all win'er... ya.... ... ya DID help em people.... ... righ'?"

The issue of the fate of the residents of Fanghorn-- the village that he had "no small part" in destroying last fall-- was one that had haunted him perniciously ever since. (It turns out, abusing wild magic meant to deflect hurricanes from islands and coasts, into brutally terminating an evil flying wizard, has "Repercussions" on the people below. --Like flattening all their houses. As a consolation, it DID put out all the burning buildings that said wizard's cronies had set ablaze-- small as it may be.) Cedar was a kind-hearted, and benevolent sort, that did not take any kind of pleasure in causing harm to people. Especially innocent people, simply caught up in things stirred up by people more powerful than themselves.

He DID NOT relish being one of those who many might call, "More powerful", and the role he had played in their suffering.

Theodore was completely unfazed by the outburst however, strictly business. Almost impossibly cool, and matter-of-fact.

"Of course we did. I gave my word, did I not?" The mage visibly picked up a piece of paper, though the writing wasn't visible through the projection. "Some mages were dispatched to clear the rubble and erect a few emergency dwellings. Alongside with the few that are still in relatively decent condition, there's enough shelter for everyone by winter albeit a bit of a tight fit. We also provided supplies throughout the season. Construction will resume in a few weeks after the road is no longer slushy from melted snow."

The paper was placed down, Theodore's gaze seemingly finding Cedar through the projected image. "You can visit them on the way here if you'd like."

This was... Not the kind of news he had wanted to hear.

"Oh yes, we tucked those people in good and tight-- Built them houses as quick as we could, and stocked them proper for the winter." was more in line with what he would have done himself, if given the chance. That's the kind of help those people NEEDED.. not... Not what he had just heard recanted to him.

"... ... Uh see..." he said again, after a long pause.
"..Uh'll.. ...Uh'll try... Uh ain't in such good shape muhself... Dunno if'n ya kin sees 'at 'er not... .. an' dey's a lot tuh do 'roun' 'ere first.... Mebbe a week er tuhs...."

The condition of those people was not something he wanted to tolerate persisting any longer, but his own condition DID also, need to be considered. You cant help somebody else, when you cant even help yourself. That thought resonated with him awhile, and he wondered if it was just "political blindness" that had driven this "not even barely adequate" response from the castle to their plight, or if... If the kingdom itself was, as he was.. not in a good way.

"Of course. Do take your time, we're not terribly in rush. You look positively terrible." Said the mage, indirectly confirming that the projection was two-way. "If you need to contact us you can tap some mana into the medallion. Now, before I go is there anything else you want to discuss?"

"Naw... I dun think suh..." he replied solemnly, deeply consumed with these troubled thoughts.

"Very well then. Looking forward to meeting you in person, master Cedar. Until next time."

The shimmering image projected from the medallion faded, then vanished, and the draw from it subsided to a dull ebb. Stricken with newfound worries and guilts, he placed it with his robes, then looked up above the (now cleaned out and empty) wooden 'crib' that served as his summer bed. He would need to fill it with fresh bed-straw, and prepare it for use-- if he was going to be using it this summer... Recent news.... Suggested he wouldn't. Again. On a rack above, drawing dust, was an enormous wooden bow his dad had made for him some years back, though he had never actually used it for much except practice shooting. He was not one for going hunting; He detested the idea of ending lives just to sustain his own, and tried to stick to the least costly modes of life he could, but if things were brewing like that outside...

His thoughts returned to that terrible excursion to Fanghorn, and how everything there had gone sideways. He REALLY could have used this thing there... Back then....

He stood, then removed it from the two wooden pegs it was suspended from, and slung it over his shoulder.

He needed to get dressed. He needed to see his father. As soon as possible.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

The sounds of wind rustling through branches, and the soft chirpings of birds fluttered into Cedar's ears, as the grogginess of hibernation finally-- at last-- began to drain from his senses.

He did not feel all that great. Humans often thought that taking "A big nap" like that, surely must leave you feeling invigorated, rejuvenated, and ready for the spring, but they were also very much, very very mistaken.

Consider instead how you would feel if you had drunk several shots of hard liquor, had your liver working overtime, and had not gone to the bathroom for 4 months solid, and you would have a closer approximation of what "coming out of hibernation" feels like.

His mind and body were only just starting to "come out of it"-- where "it" could best be described as a state not quite asleep, and not really awake, in which the lines between fantastical dreams and imaginings, and the waking perceptions of the world are blurred. It's not really "sleep:" Even the slightest noise would have "roused" him, but he would NOT have been "Himself", and would have "Reacted" more than thought or planned like a man-- interspersed by small, perhaps hour-long episodes of semi-wakefulness, in which he might put his nose outside to eat a small mouthful of snow, now and then.

For the moment, he was just some-what grateful to have "man-thoughts" again. It was this state of debilitation, and "Not being worth a shit" that he had tried so very hard to impress upon the king of Kindeance last fall; The reason why he had no choice but to refuse his request to stay and help further-- It wasn't that he did not WANT to, it was that he would have been UNABLE to. Getting that point across seemed like trying to argue with the wind though.

His thoughts wandered, while he waited for his body to finish "waking up"; reflecting of their own accord how that conversation had let to his returning home just before the snows hit, and just in time to get into his hovel for the winter.

The trip back had been more or less un-eventful, but he had been in a hurry to return, lest he be forced to dig in someplace out in the wilds between Rascade, and here, in the great misty forest of the north. He had collected his horse-- A massive black stallion named "Paragon", according to the royal groom-- (a hairy and somewhat dense fellow named Griswold.) It had taken a fair bit of convincing on his part to get the beast to trust him, requiring the services of the groom to get him hitched in harness and strapped to a simple wooden cart he had purchased for the trip. He had spent a few more hours in Rascade, loading it with as much food, grain, and supplies as he could pack in it, then headed home, stuffing his gullet on the way while driving the wagon, then stopping each night to "Chat" with the horse, planning on how best to care for him when they arrived "home."

He wondered how the massive stallion was faring right now, after a whole winter under his dad's care.

He had been paid a king's ransom-- literally-- for his services in bringing home the lost prince, and it has been well more than sufficient to provision the both of them. That wagon had been heaped over the top with half of it full of bags of grain for Paragon, and the other half stuffed with barrels of rendered fat and preserved meat for himself, with several bags of apples to share between them when they stopped.

As opposed to the month it had taken him to wander in earlier that fall, it had only taken a week with the cart, and the improved travel time it afforded.

Arriving "Home" through the village's road (which was necessary to get into the wood the way he needed to go, and meant passing through the town) had been met with spectacle, as he arrived with much more than he had set out with. Even more so, when he had to make arrangements to have hay delivered to the old tower ruins-- then a VERY lengthy, and tear-infused conversation with his father, who had been beside himself with worry and grief at his protracted absence.

That seemed so long ago now, after 4 months of "not really awake, and not really asleep", with "Barely enough fat to survive" after gorging himself on the trip home.

He could feel the bones showing through his tight skin, and he realized he must look like absolute hell. But at least he survived. That was reason enough to be somewhat happy.

His palms and feet itched, like they did EVERY spring, after just "coming back alive again"; Months of being buried over with leaves and tucked away deep into the ground where the frost couldnt reach, meant that the pads over his fingers, toes, hands and feet began to detach, then slough off. He started every year with "New Shoes", and it would mean his feet would be tender for several days at the least. Idly, he curled up, and nipped at the thick and offensive hunks of dead skin, and peeled them off to stop the itching, then groaned as he felt the rest of his body coming into normal function. The need to toilet, being especially prominent.

Like a recovering drunkard, he wobbled this way and that on all fours, as he lifted the trapdoor in the floor of his hovel that led into his winter den, almost knocking over the table and wide bench that served him in the summer and autumn months as he careened for the door, then stumbled outside and into the light for the first time in months. "Relief" was difficult and a struggle, as it always was after hibernation-- but the results were very satisfying and met with much appreciation.

He sniffed at the air. So familiar, and comforting- the smell of wet autumn leaves under melting snow, hints of fresh greenery, and the promise of early spring mushrooms greeted him, shouting into his nose that spring had indeed arrived. He smiled, despite himself, took in the care-free singing of the birds overhead for moment, then staggered back inside, then hoisted himself up onto the wide bench, to hunch himself over the table for a few minutes; the initial "labors of the year" having been seen to, and leaving him tired. He'd need to go find something to eat soon, then go check in with his father, and see how Paragon had fared. Thoughts about what all needed to be done this year flooded through like a flock of noisy geese, but he was glad of them; It beat the inhuman, bear-thoughts that had dominated his mind for the past 4 months. It was good to be "a man" again.

----

It was several days later, when he decided to go through his things, and actually get ready for the year's work. There was much to do, given that his sisters and younger brother would likely be "Put out" this year, and SOON too, meaning they needed hovels of their own built, and his dad would be far too... "Busy"... with their mother to offer much more than kindly advice on how to put things together that he had prepared for them. The thought that perhaps, next spring, he would have new brothers or new sisters again made him smile, and he was very happy to see his mom and dad spending time together without young ones underfoot. It was like watching them fall in love, as if for the very first time, though this would be the second time he would watch those two go through those motions. He chuckled, then dug through the coarse wooden trunk that served to store his belongings.

Inside was a small wooden chest of very ornate construction, packed clean full of small gold bars and a sizable sack of cut diamonds. He pushed that aside-- then pulled out the folded coarse cloth robes, gloves, and heavy leather boots. He was always happy to see these, as his father had made and gifted them to him when he himself had been "Put out" so many years ago now... He inspected the stitching, noted the beginnings of wear and tear that would need patching, then dusted them off, and laid them aside to put on later. Underneath them, almost forgotten, was a curious heavy medallion with strange letters that made no sense to him-- What exactly was a 'XIV' anyway? How do you even SAY that?-- He picked it up, and held the cool metal medallion in his tender, newly-smoothed paw, and idly felt its weight, while thinking of far away things. He had accepted it, under the premise that he would someday visit Rascade again, and give demonstrations to young people wanting to learn how to do the work he did-- That was good and honest work, and he felt no shame in agreeing to it. Idly, he breathed in the nascent magic that ebbed and flowed through the woods, like blood in the veins of some giant sleeping beast, and let it just filter and flow around and through him, gauging the health of his home, and trying to discern if any part of it would need immediate care this spring or not-- Those wily loggers were wont to take trees they shouldnt in the winter, when he and his father were least active to stop them, and it could sometimes have "unfortunate" consequences if not dealt with and corrected promptly. Those men did not, or would not, understand that these consequences were not merely superstition, and could very much spell a cataclysmic event if not seen to immediately-- all they cared about was the quality of the timber, and the price it would fetch at market. Strangely, he felt the medallion tugging on the magic flowing through him, as if it were hungry, and this drew his attention.

Why would it try to draw in magic like this? Was it magical somehow? If so, what did it do?

His curiosity got the better of him, and he let the flow he was immersed in flow more freely into it, keenly interested in its reaction now...

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Very well-- Submissions:

Cedar

Name: "Cedar" (is unaware he even has a last name. Dad never said anything.)

Species: "Half-Bear". (Result of a sordid liaison between a hermetic proto-druid following the 'ascetic' path to that end (as opposed to formal training), and a she-bear that he fell madly in love with. Best not to inquire.)

Age: Turning 9 this year. (Ursine admixture causes rapid maturation, with "necessary" aggressive memory abilities. Physical maturity is NOT mental maturity-- Lack of worldly experience produces PROFOUND social and cultural deficits.)

Gender: Male

Appearance: Dark brown with light tan grizzling. Favors ursine body-type. Limbs have "Grasping" fore-paws, that are neither truly bear-like, nor fully human-like. Prehensile. Looks like a normal bear unless looked at very closely, due to bushy fur concealing most of the human-like features. Easily mistaken for an ordinary bear.

Weight: Approx 500 to 600lbs (more if well fed)

Height: Standing upright, 9.5 feet tall. On all-fours, about 4 foot tall to shoulder.

Bio: Native of "the Great misty forest" to the north, on the border of Meche and Kindeance. It's a rural backwater / no-man's-land with a small, backwater village nestled up to it. The primary industry of the village of mystville is timber from the misty forest. This locality is a natural wonder, that is naturally abundant in free magical energies. Cedar's dad settled there after a recent catastrophe involving the location, but that is mostly regional lore that is not important to this story. Due to the backwater nature of the village, and its low importance, but potential for becoming occupied by military factions, the residents were quite upset when tipped off to the looming danger the two kingdoms were embroiled in.

Last Autumn, Cedar was dispatched (as the "Most available" [or rather, Expendable] 'person' [opinions are... 'mixed']) to attempt to prevent the seemingly "all but certain" war by attempting to prevent the assassination of King Fredericus of Rascade, King of Kindeance.

Became embroiled in the mad quest to recover the crown prince of Kindeance from his abductors.

He and the others assigned were ultimately successful in this goal, but inadvertently destroyed an entire village in the process.

This reality has weighed very heavily on Cedar since.

On that mission, Cedar met a young slave girl who was injured/disabled by the party, and has developed a "Healer-Patient" interest in her recovery and social rehabilitation.

After emerging from winter hibernation, he elected to go check on her....
---

Passives:
Ursine passives/racial abilities. (Superhuman Strength, Superhuman olfaction)
Knowledge Domain: Magical forest architecture/ecology

Spells:
Detect Magic (Immediate)
Entangle/Control/Enhance vegetation (Range: Touch)
Heal wounds (Range: Touch)
Spell-like ability: Can communicate with animals (in a manner of speaking-- Can exchange crude concepts, emotional states, and sensory experiences. The effectiveness/intricacy of the exchanges are limited by the cogitative ability of the animal in question. Some are more capable/intelligent than others.) Requires direct eye-contact.

[Restricted power: "Dance of the Earth and Sky" -- A wild-type magic that is NOT controlled by the caster after casting-- It CONTROLS the caster instead. It is of foreign origin, and was learned from an obscure text in the village library. "Crudely speaking", it "Controls the weather." More accurately speaking, the caster "sets" a "Completion condition" for the spell, based on their mental and emotional state at the time the dance is started. This condition is then fixed, and CANNOT be changed. The spell will manipulate/puppeteer the caster, rather than the other way around, in a "Mindless" and "unrelenting" pursuit of that objective. If the objective cannot be satisfied for whatever reason, or it is actively stymied in its attempts, it will continually leech from the caster to alter its methodology until it either succeeds, or this activity consumes the caster's life force, whichever happens first. In terms of its action, it "Grants that desire" inherent in the initial casting in a manner analogous to that of a Monkey's Paw wish.. For obvious reasons, Cedar **DOES NOT WANT TO USE THIS POWER EVER.**]

Equipment:
[From last chapter]
Kukri knife
Mysterious medallion
Knapped stone utility knife
"Very large mundane wooden staff" (No magical powers. Essentially just a very large bit of tree limb, sized for his stature.)
Weathered looking/tatty coarse fabric robes
Enormous leather boots
Enormous leather gloves

[New this chapter]
Enormous Greatbow
"Essentially spears with fletchings" for arrows
Quiver

Other:
Relations--
Sisters, Lily and Rose. (4y, from "second litter")
Brothers, Oak and Pine. (turning 9, littermate/twin brother-- and 4y, from "Second litter")

"Strained" relationship with sisters Lily and Rose; Identical twins, prone to mischief that bully their brother Pine. Cedar mentors Pine, and tries to protect him from Lily and Rose. They consider this to be "A challenge", and make life more difficult than it needs to be. (For both.)

"Active animosity" coupled with "Forlorn loss" with littermate Oak-- As children, they were bullied by village children, and suffered emotional scarring that manifested in different ways by each. Oak has developed a "Deeply seated" loathing and contempt for their dad, for "You know what he did, what he KEEPS DOING, and why we are what we are!", while Cedar has a profound love and admiration for their dad, for the universal love he gives. Oak is "Actively Reminded" of their dad by Cedar (who has taken up a similar vocation), and treats Cedar rudely. Cedar misses his brother terribly, loves him intensely, and wishes he would stop being bitter and mean. Oak lives as far away from the forest as he possibly can, inside the village. He is apprenticed to the village blacksmith, and does "Heavy iron work."

Cedar is a very gentle creature with a ferocious body, that frightens people instinctually despite his better wishes, and that generally wishes to exist in as benign and benevolent a fashion as possible. He is subject to racist bigotry once people realize "what" he is (and what that implies). Very empathetic to other animals, and considers animal minds "Fully equal" of consideration, respect, and importance to humans and humanoid races, despite the obvious differences, and the "obvious disagreement" humanoid races have over this view.

He works with his dad (and younger brother) as de-facto caretakers of the great misty forest, seeing to the maintenance of the magical ecology and integrity of the natural environment there.

(Lily and Rose are "A dynamic Duo", and thus have 4 spells/Abilities shared between them, as they ALWAYS act as a team, and are inseparable.)

Lily

Name: "Lily"

Species: Half-Bear

Age: 4

Gender: Female

Appearance: Identical twin of Rose. Subtle differences in fur patterning, but VERY hard to tell them apart without a bear's nose to guide you, apart from the differences in their personalities. Light brown, with tawny grizzling. Same "Favors Ursine form" as other siblings.

Weight: Approx 400lb

Height: Upright, about 7ft tall. 3.5F to shoulder on all-fours

Bio:

After the "loss" of his son Oak (who disowned him, and ran away from home at 2y age) due to bullying by the village children, One-Eyed-Jack (their dad) elected to keep his second litter of children "at home" until they were "Old enough" to handle the "harsh realities" of how "Cruel people can be." As a consequence, the 3 cubs in this second litter (Lily, Rose, and Pine) have been raised EXCLUSIVELY out in the woods until a much older age, and thus, have significantly LESS socialization, and significantly MORE "Deficits" in terms of "Knowing how to properly behave themselves."

Pine is a timid and shy boy, owing to the constant pestering his sisters have subjected him to, who has difficulty getting words out, is unsure of himself, and is in general, a complete wall-flower. In other respects, he is a gentle and kind boy, like his older brother Cedar. Cedar has SIGNIFICANTLY more experience dealing/talking with humans than Pine does-- Pine actively fears human contact.

LILY, on the other hand, is a complete firebrand. She is "The instigator", and is completely shameless. She has a pronounced lack of consideration for the consequences of her mischief, but is otherwise VERY clever, and has a knack for understanding the "Hows and Whys" of things. Especially things that have "Hows and Whys" for things SHE WANTS. She is the "Dominant Half" of the 'Terror-Twin-Duo' she comprises, with her twin sister, Rose.

Passives:
Ursine Passives (Enhanced strength, Superhuman olfaction)
Diabolical Cleverness
*Brazen

Spells:
Identify Item/Discern Enchantment (While not guaranteed to *fully* succeed (or reveal FULL functionality of), she knows how to magically delve and probe magical effects or instructions from magically enchanted items, or discern the properties and nature of ambient magical effects.)

Manipulate inorganic material (aspects: Earth and Fire) -- Can heat, form, or otherwise twist and shape inorganic materials (dirt, clay, sand, metal, etc) into various shapes.

Equipment:
Leather tool roll containing various wooden, antler/bone, and stone instruments for carving or shaping objects.
Hip pouch (right side)
Halter-top

Other:
While skilled at UNDERSTANDING magic, and grasping magical theory, is not very "Powerful", and thus can do very little more than use her powers to heat, twist, shape, or otherwise crudely manipulate inorganic substances. She relies on her vastly more powerful sister's abilities when they collaborate on "Projects" to help bring her more diabolical ideas into being.

Rose

Name: "Rose"

Species: Half-Bear

Age: 4

Gender: Female

Appearance: Identical sister to Lily. Subtle differences in fur coloration.

Weight: Approx 400lb
Height: Upright, about 7ft tall. 3.5F to shoulder on all-fours

Bio: The "Perceptive, and cunning" one. Where Lily is the firebrand, Rose is the unrelenting stream that wears down the mountain. Patient and wily. Perceptive, sneaky, and crafty. The "Wickedly Capable" side of the Terror-Twin duo.

Passives:
Ursine Passives (Enhanced strength, superhuman olfaction)
Aura Perception (always active-- Cannot really determine the proper nature of magical auras, but is permanently "perceptive" of them.)
*Sneaky/manipulative

Spells/abilities:
Channel/direct/manipulate aura (Can project, draw, or bend/shape raw magical auras, but cannot impose complex instructions on them, or use them in complex ways.)

Gifted at alchemy: Ingredient identification, quality assessment of ingredients, and inventive utilization of ingredients come naturally. Gifted with, and greatly enjoys making potions and home remedies, as well as cooking.

Equipment:

Makeshift potion kit (made from discarded glass bottles, bits of discarded metal detritus, leather hose, et al.)
Alchemists's Satchel (Left side)
"Super secret potions! DONT TOUCH!"
Halter top

Other:
Almost completely oblivious to the complexities of magical theory, but profoundly capable of handling large flows of magic. Likes to "Cause trouble" for her brother Cedar, by "tugging" on the carefully crafted synergistic effects he creates with his botanical plantings, and making them do "Unexpected" and "Confounding" things when he isn't looking. Sometimes works with her sister in this respect, to make "Very specific" and "Not at all desired" things to happen, using inorganic focus objects placed surreptitiously into the mix, to better provide specific control over the redirected/repurposed auras his work creates.

"Terror Twins, together"

Motive:

The two decide that they need to "Tag along" to see what their older brother is "Up to!" once they catch wind that he is going to "Visit a girl!!"

[Restricted Power: SHARED-- Requires both!]

TERROR TWINS

Dual-concentration, collaboration ability-- Rose draws and/or supplies raw power-- Lily gives it form and purpose.

Causes Mana-drain damage on Rose (who has her power leeched off), and Mana-Burn damage on Lily (who cannot actually handle that kind of force).

This is a wild magic, that is very "Strong" in its aura presence, but is not the most sophisticated, and is done more in the line of DnD Sorcerer magic (not a proper spell, and not performed by properly skilled practitioners. It is VERY IMPORTANT to understand that while each is a prodigy in their own way, they ARE IN NO WAY EXPERIENCED USERS, and lack a robust education!!). A sufficiently strong "Dispel Magic" or "Anti-Magic" would completely disperse it.

Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players]

Sounds fun. You know my angle already. :P

Sovereign's Will (An RP about war and conspiracy) [Recruiting Players and Co-GMs]

sure, I'm in.

Mr cedar can make another visit.

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

The light drink he had shared with Jeanie before being summoned here was helpful in soothing his nerves, but noplace near enough to deaden him to the implications of this meeting, or the... connotations... behind the king's proposal.

Even more-so, since he disliked being one to let people down, or leave work unfinished-- The situation had him in a tough spot; He really, already had obligations of his own he needed to see to, and besides, he'd be beyond useless in just a few weeks, more likely than not-- While he did not sleep the ENTIRE time while hibernating, the time he WAS awake, was a kind of dreamy not-really-alert state, with more "reactive" levels of consciousness, and fraught with uncoordinated movement, fuzzy thinking, and irritability. It was NOT a pleasant condition to be in, and he did NOT want to have people trying to tell him "oh how very important doing this thing is!" while in that state. It was a recipe for disaster, hard feelings, and the formation of grudges in every capacity. It was just "Not a good thing" all around, and was completely inescapable. Since nobody else seemed intent on safely escaping while they had the chance, that left him the odd-bear-out; It was nothing personal, and he really DID hate leaving the issue of the war "unresolved"-- but this was something he had no real choice in, anymore than somebody can put off taking a shit indefinitely. As the winter approached, the "Need" to do it became equally unbearable. It was going to happen, like it or not.

He huffed a breath, and looked down at his feet like a child caught stealing cookies from the jar before dinner.

"... Thank-ye fer da chance tuh git loose..." he managed, albeit awkwardly. "... Uh... Uh really hates tuh leave work unfinish', --'specially when uh dun been paid... "

He shifted one leg on the ball of his foot back and forth nervously, but looked up timidly, still hunched in a plaintive manner.

"...Buht uh cain't stay.. In 'bout a week er so, uhs gunna be less 'an useless, an' no good fer nuttin' buh' layin' 'bout fer six month..." He heaved a sigh and cocked his head, making very earnest eyes at Frederic. ".. Uh cain't helps it... It like havin' ta takes a shit-- cain't hol' it back ferever... ... an it gunna happen, ya wants it ta er not..."

He looked down at his feet again, his foot having never stopped the slow rotation back and forth on the floor.

"... Asides..... Like yaself were worri'd 'bout ya boy.. Muh own pa likely outta his min' right naow... I's been gone a whole month, an' he ain't had nary a word 'bout muh safety. ... Ya gotta un'erstand, uh's is somebody else's boy.. an' dey like as not, jus' as wurried as'n you wus... ... an more..."

He looked up again, this time with sadness, despair, and open worry on his huge hairy face--

"... Uh has ta warn 'im 'bout what likely commin'-- Uh din' really come ta save ya boy... --but uh glad uh did--... uh came ta stops da war, ifn uh could... buh' it soun' like we's jus' slowed it daown instead... "

his look suddenly gained severity and intensity-- ferocious intent in it.

"So's me an' paps's gots ta get ready fer it-- Keep 'at shit out, an' at arm's length. 'At take time an' effort-- Uh gots tuh see tuh my own, ya sees? I dun blame you non-'tall, I kin tell ya don' wan' cause no trouble fer us up yonder; but from what I kin put tughether muh-ownself? Soun' likes ya gots some dumb-fuck modder-fucker as ain't willin' ta quit-- an' at fucker need all the discouragin' he kin git, ya know? Mebbe we git at place up yonder so prickley, he all tied up tryin' tuh git in, no? Don' wan' 'nudder Fanghorn. Not ifn' uhs kin avoid it none, 'ats fer damn sure! Unlike 'em poor barstards, we's kin be readeh, --an fuck 'em up good!"

The severity faded back to being plaintive again.

".. Uh wish uh could help ya more... buh I caint... Uh sorry..."

He looked at Jazdia, then at the others with a sweep of his sad eyes.

"Uh wish y'all duh best uh luck. Hones.'"

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

It was some time before a knock finally came at the anxious bear-man's door.

He had arranged the room, and moved items from off the table to elsewhere in the room, to make it available to use for his 'dinner guests.' The people outside were not who he was expecting though. Outside was the man he had been quite rude and cross to earlier that day, a young boy he did not recognize, and Melody, the maid that had initially attended to him here at the castle when he arrived.

The heavy set and hirsute man was wringing his hands anxiously, the young boy was standing to the side as if unsure of himself, and Melody seemed intently trying to console the both of them.

"Oh-- Hullo!" he said in surprise, looking out the door and to either side. ".. Where miss Jeanie at?... I wus es'pectin..."

"Hello Master Cedar!" Melody interrupted, prim, proper, and chipper. "Jeanie asked me to take over. I understand you wanted to have dinner with the staff in your room tonight?"

"Uh.. Yeah, I did-- I wus tol'.."

"Well, I have brought you some of our staff that's currently available. I understand that you.. ..Met each other... earlier today?"

"Uh.. Yeah... abou' 'at.." he muttered, impulsively scratching behind his head like a kid that had been caught being naughty. He turned his attention to the hairy an clearly distressed man. "Sorreh abou' earlier tuhday... I weren't... I wuddn't muhself. Had a lot a bad thangs on muh min', an'... well... I weren't in no talkin' mood... " He made a plaintive but somewhat bemused expression, or at least tried to. "An' yah did ask meh a righ' dumb-arsed question abou' what I were gunna do wit' muh horse..."

Melody turned her attention to the man then, all smiles. "See Griswold, I TOLD you he was actually really nice! Now come on then, let's go in! You too Percy!"

Melody did not at all betray the fact that this was HIGHLY out of the ordinary, and simply pushed the cart in behind the two other 'dinner guests', as they entered the room very unsure of themselves.

Cedar gestured to the prepared table, where they took their seats.

Conversation at the table was a bit.. Guarded, at least at first. "Griswold", the castle's groomsman, and "Percy", the stableboy, seemed to be nice enough folks, but apparently his earlier cold behavior had left a lasting impression of intense, instinctual fear on the former, which had infected the latter. Only Melody seemed undisturbed, though a bit anxious about something. (since she did not tell him about how this little stunt was likely to reverberate through the castle's hierarchy for days afterward, since doing so would be even MORE out of line.) Matters slowly warmed up though, after the groom inquired 'what it was exactly' he had been doing there, sitting and staring at his horse like that for the better part of an hour earlier that day. Cedar was honest and straightforward about it, matter-of-factly stating that he had just been having a very long 'conversation' with the animal, which got the conversation going more directly.

"You mean to tell me, you can TALK to the horse?" Griswold asked with a furrowed brow.

"yeah! Well... Er.. uh.. No... See..." Cedar stammered. "Horses dun righ'ly un'erstan' people-talk, er.. e'en people-thoughts, arigh'? Like mos' critters, deys un'erstan's feelin's, smells, colors, an' simple idear's about wut thangs is, and isn't. Like muh pappy, I's kin sorta.. How's tuh put it... I's kin squish up muh 'people-thoughts' all up in da corner, an' outta reach, so tuh speaks.. an' 'en has more 'critter-thoughts' all shared like with da critter. Sum critter's is smarter, an' has bigger thoughts 'an odders does... like ravens, er crows an deh like.. but no' horses. 'eyes gots da smaller critter thoughts. Me an' 'at big ol' fellar jus' sat daown an' had a long bit a sharin', at's all. I's were havin' a bad day, an' needed some comp'ny as weren't peoples is all.. Sorreh fer bein' a righ' arsehole earlier an all."

"So... What did you ... talk about?" the man asked, more confused than ever.

"Oh--- Dis an dat-- He right friskey for somma 'em lady horses ya gots in da pen fer one thang-- He an' I's talk'd 'bout where I's gunna have to put 'im when I's gits back home, an'.. Wells... How he kin always come gits meh if'n he git in trouble, er git hurt er whatnot-- Mos'ly just ramblin' on, with one thang leadin' tuh anodder, tills we had nuttin' moar tuh share. He a right proud fellar he is. Real sure ah his-self. Tol' me he'd kick da shit outta me I goes in da stall wit' im!"

Cedar let out a jovial chuckle

"--An I 'spects he'd does it tuh! Gunna has tuh work on 'at, if'n I's gunna take 'im home wit' meh, fer sure!"

And so the conversation went, careening over things the bear considered trivial, but that evidently the members of staff had no conception were even possible, let alone part of his normal day to day life.

The food on the cart vanished in short order, and the current guests finished their portions, exchanged pleasantries before departing, before new ones arrived in Melody's orbit along with another cart of food. For some reason, the food was always lukewarm rather than hot but he really didnt care. It was just a curious thing to him, but he didn't ask.

Griswold and Percy gave way to an exotic man with dark skin and a curious accent named Charon, who was apparently the grounds keeper. The conversation turned toward the care of various plants, and on the most effective means of eliminating 'weeds', though there was some argument about what constituted such things. The topic of the missing water barrel came up, which caused the bear a fair bit of embarrased consternation, as he admitted leaving it in Hdur, but assured the grounds keeper that it was probably still there, and likely unharmed. Only a silly person would destroy a perfectly good barrel, after all....

Charon soon gave way to the old gentleman that had survived the prince's ambush and capture. He was apparently also the castle's game keeper. The topic of animal-conversation (and conservation) once more came up, this time with more emphasis about how to convince trouble-animals to shove off. The grounds keeper was amused by, but not terribly swayed, by Cedar's suggestion of personally scent-marking areas that should have 'troublemakers' deterred, asserting that humans probably dont smell as threatening as a bear does, which got mutual laughter from the pair, while Melody sipped her tea in confusion.

It wasn't until much later in the night, that Melody left with the cart for the final time, only to have Jeanie show up again.

She had come to apologize for not participating in his gracious request, but like the cooks, the party had occupied her full attention since their last meeting. She continued to prattle on about her apologies for the circumstances, when a well dressed man-servant sauntered up un-announced, introduced himself as "Gaston", and was apparently a man-servant to a family of wealthy people from the party that he vaguely recalled from the night in Hdur a day ago. They were apparently the family of the two people that had tried (and failed) to get bread at the bakery that night. He wasn't sure why, but they left him a bottle of Chardonnay, which he was happy to accept.

He smiled mischievously at Jeanie, while holding up the bottle.

"Well-- If'n ya's serious 'bout 'pologizin' fer not comin' tuh dinner, 'leas' come sit an' have a drink wit' meh! We got shut-daown earlier tuhday, an' soun' like 'eye ain't no more parteh tuh takes care uh-- Naow c'mmon in, an' has a seat!"

Jeanie simply closed her eyes and shuddered at getting stuck with drinking with him-- AGAIN.

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

"Well, it can't be any of us on 'Party-Duty'--" Scoffed Alfonse "--and if he thinks I'll do special orders under these conditions, he's got another thing coming. Rupe and I are stretched thin as it is."

"He DID say 'Leftovers' Al--" chimed Rupert with a naughty smile, before testing the bowtie pasta again, this time meeting with satisfaction at its firmness. "Anything that's been out there long enough to get cold we would just have to chuck out and you know it-- If that silly bear's happy with leftovers, he would be thrilled with that, don't you think?" he continued, while carrying the large stock pot to the drain.

"GIVE ME THAT-- it's about damn time-- --But if His Majesty finds out about it, we'll have hell to pay."

"We still don't even know WHO to send!" chimed in Jeanie. "You lot only got to eaves drop on his little pantry-raid earlier today, you didn't have to watch him drink and carry on! He and my formal charge, Miss Von Rosenving, are such.... such... CADS!"

"Your secret's safe with us, Jeanie--" Rupert ventured with a naughty chuckle.

"SHUT UP you bastard! It wasn't like that!" she countered, scandalized. "They just kept pressuring me to drink and talk! Thank the stars for that doctor showing up!" A loud clank followed her plunking the matching lid for the roaster into the rinse basin, having finished scrubbing it clean.

"Did I miss anything interesting?" came a voice from the doors as they swung open then shut again. It was Melody, the maid that was PROPERLY assigned to the bearman.

"ABOUT GODSDAMNED TIME you showed up!" huffed Jeanie, standing up from the stool she had been using while doing the scrubbing in the scullery.

"So you managed to catch him then?" asked Melody, gliding into the scullery like she owned the place.

"NO THANKS TO YOU! Where WERE YOU anyway!?"

Melody blushed a little, and rubbed the ball of her right foot in a small circle on the smoothed stone flooring in front of her shyly. "... I had to explain to Miss Sylvia why it was I had the bear use the laundry last night..."

Rupert's brassy baritone laughter erupted suddenly then was cut short just as quickly by the sound of a loud metallic thunk.

"WE DONT HAVE TIME FOR YOUR DAMN HORSELAUGHS RUPERT-- Get on those stuffed eggplants, or so help me, I'll bend you like a pretzel and shove you in the oven myself!"
---"JEEZE Al-- Lighten up, I have them right here--"
"LESS TALK, MORE SLICING! We have every "Discerning Palette" in the kingdom out there, and it's JUST US in here for gods' sakes!"

"Well, They're in a rare mood tonight, aren't they?" asked Melody with an amused smile, thankful for the distraction from having to discuss "The meeting" she had finished.

"So, you know he got kicked out the party, but don't know what he did afterward then?" scoffed Jeanie.

Melody's face drained a little. The bear-man was actually very nice, but he clearly had a lot of deficits when it came to social propriety. The mind boggled about what all he COULD have done to mess up this meet-and-greet any further than he had already done. "no-- .. Dare I ask what?"

"HE WANTS US TO SERVE HIM DINNER IN HIS DAMN ROOM, THAT'S WHAT!" balked Alfonse, amid a clatter of porcelain. "--PERSONALLY--"

Melody looked at Jeanie with a stunned, wide-eyed expression.

"Ooooh no--" started Jeanie. "You're not weaseling out of this one Melody-- He's YOUR problem; I've got ENOUGH to try and deflect already, having to drink with him and my own charge earlier today-- He wants us to have dinner with him in his room, that's TOTALLY ON YOU to figure out!"

Melody looked blindsided and confused. "--What now?"

Rupert's brassy cackle once more shook the room despite the low-volume cursings coming from Alfonse, who was clearly out of arm's reach this time. "Apparently, he wants us to not only serve him in his room, but he wants us to DINE with him too! Bon-apatite, Melody!"

"I CAN'T, I'M SUPER BUSY RIGHT NOW!" exclaimed Melody in alarm.

"Not so busy you can't come snooping in here, taking up space and not even helping with the dishes!" balked Alfonse. "At least Jeanie knows how to be HELPFUL!"

Rupert's cackle continued uninterrupted, amid his amused humming while he busied himself cutting and coring eggplants.

"Just go find somebody to sit with him Mel-- Al, Rupert and I will get the old carts in shortly, and we can send one of those up to his room when you get back here. Leave the kitchen to us, you just take care of getting the old carts back in here, and finding people to "Entertain" your guest."

Melody heaved a weary sigh. Why was this happening? This was just insult to injury. Everything about having this person in the castle this past day had been messier than a toppled delivery wagon on market day.

"I'll... Try to find somebody then.." she breathed anxiously.

"Better get to it!" joked Rupert, who once more got another thunk from Alfonse "OW Al! I'm working, I'm working! Jeeze!"

"Better go before Al starts contemplating hitting women!" giggled Jeanie mischievously. "I can't WAIT to hear the gossip you stir up with this!"

Melody grabbed up a handful of floating soap suds from the wash basin, and smeared it on Jeanie's face. "I aught to wash your mouth out! You KNOW nothing untoward has happened!"

"IF YOU AREN'T HELPING, THEN GET OUT ALREADY!" balked Alfonse. Jeanie just smiled wickedly at Melody, then pointed to the door.

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

Jeanie walked as briskly and quickly as she could without going into an all-out run.

Had this bear-man-creature-person-thing lost his-or-its gods damned mind?! It had *JUST* gotten kicked out of the ball for causing a scandal, and here it was, neck-deep in starting ANOTHER one!

There were the masters of the home, and then THERE WERE THE SERVANTS. There would be CONSEQUENCES for failure to avoid fraternizing between the classes! Big ones! The kind people could talk about for centuries, and here he was, big as a damn barn, being all up-front and personal, when he *NEEDED* to be discrete, and put on the air of station His Majesty sorely needed from him right now!

--WANTING US TO DINE WITH HIM!?

Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her skirt whisked and rustled. Her knuckles where white and clenched on the hems, to avoid tripping. With a sigh of relief, she entered through the servant's door into the kitchens at long last.

"Took you long enough Jean."

That was Rupert, the sous-chef. Alfonse, the head chef, was busy manning 4 pans over the hearth, two containing delicate cream sauces, one containing a reduction glaze for carrots, and the third simmering a rich red sauce made of tomatoes and basil. The smell of fresh garlic bread radiated from his direction.

"No time to chat mister! Are those noodles ready yet or not!? The white-sauce is going to separate at this rate-- If you overcook those noodles, so help me--"

Apparently, Alfonse was feeling saucy in more ways than one. Jeanie watched Rupert fish out a piece of bow-tie pasta with a fork, then press it against the cutting board, before biting on it. "Still a bit too al dente."

"And the linguini?! Surely that's ready!"

Rupert motioned Jeanie toward the scullery. "Go make yourself useful Jeanie-- I've got my hands full out here."
"And even more full if he doesn't stop talking!" balked Alfonse.

She complied, though she was even more worried about the "bear" situation, now more than ever, seeing how busy the kitchen was. Alfonse was not really a tyrant-- He just ran a tight kitchen. Rupert on the other hand, liked to take things a little easy, and sometimes quality slipped a bit. They actually worked well together, and could coordinate large meals if they stayed focused. The issue was that Rupert's more laxidastical (Though he insisted it was "practical") nature tended to make him want to gossip and talk while he worked.

"Ignore him Jean-- He's just salty about the fish."

"What fish?... Was it salmon?" she asked, suddenly reminded of the bearman saying he could smell it being cooked all the way from his room.

"It... It was actually. It's what has us behind on serving the next course-- Had to actually FIND one in the ice-house, chip it out of the block, thaw it, and then try to do our best with something that we didn't know we even had in storage. Alfonse was FURIOUS!"

"STILL FURIOUS!" the man in the white chef's hat raged, while peeking inside the oven. "The bread is GOING TO BURN! HURRY WITH THAT PASTA!"

"Well, he's gonna LOVE this then--" started Jeanie as she called through the scullery door, while marveling that the bear had somehow actually been right about what had been cooking in here. She was pumping water into a large bronze tub used to scrub pans, while reaching for a scouring brush. "--You know Mr Tall Dark, and Hairy?"

"What about him?"

"HE GOT KICKED OUT OF THE PARTY, So that's One less mouth demanding impossible things!" balked Alfonse "FOR FUCKS SAKE, Stoke the fire a little or something!!"

"Alfonse, Do you want the noodles cooked properly, or overdone? Make up your mind."
"PUT A LID ON IT THEN!"

"Don't be so sure about that." cackled Jean. "I barely caught him before he could escape the grounds, and led him back to his room-- He wants to have dinner served There."

"OF COURSE HE DOES!! ALL OUR STAFF OUT THERE ON THE FUCKING FLOOR, AND HE WANTS US TO DRAG HIS MEALS UP FOR HIM ON THE FAR SIDE OF--"

"--With us."

The sound of bubbling pasta water, simmering sauces, and the very quiet sound of soap bubbles popping dominated the room, as far as Jeanie could tell.

"... What do you mean-- 'with us'?--" Ventured Rupert, suddenly very eager to test the pasta again.

"... I uh.... Might have let it slip.. that we don't normally get any of the food we cook or serve.." she said, getting red-faced, and doubling down on her scrubbing.

"And?" he demanded, before biting a bit of thin noodle, and deciding it was actually ready, taking it off his own hearth with pot-holders and over to the drain to strain them. "That's hardly anything controversial-- Why would he care?"

"ABOUT FUCKING TIME!" bellowed Alfonse, who elbowed Rupert away from the noodles the instant they were in the strainer, stealing it away with him and back over to where his delicate sauces were in danger of browning if they didn't get served in the next few minutes.

".. Apparently he does--- VERY STRONGLY." she groaned, then dunked the large roasting pan she had been scrubbing into the rinse basin. "He says to bring up any 'leftovers' to his room, and to bring plates for ourselves-- insists that he wants to share with us, and will be insulted if we don't"

"LIKE FUCKING HELL!"

"So, who do think we should send, Jean?"

"I have no idea, Rupe."

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

Cedar reached into the front pocket of the elaborate jacket top that had been made for him, and extracted an equally, if not shamelessly, elaborately woven kerchief, then used it to dob his face around his eyes, as the maid came scuttling up to him, huffing and a bit out of breath.

"His Majesty wishes for you to please remain, and to not be so quick to leave over the discourtesy our other guests." she breathed, before leaning against the wall.

"Why are you always getting lost, Mr Cedar? Your room is THE OTHER WAY!"

He snuffed at her. He hated to admit it, but in all honesty, most humans all looked more or less the same to him. Broad pink faces, short, thin, rounded off noses, short, flat jaws, lanky builds... His dad had advised him to NEVER say this to them, saying it would never be accepted in a good or generous light, but with these maid and man-servant types in the castle, all dressing identically, and even doing their hair the same, it was VERY hard to keep track of which one he was talking to. Admittedly, some were a lot more attractive than others; Yvonne, for instance, was a very fine woman. A little short for his liking,--but that probably didn't matter any, since she clearly was not interested in him, judging from her scent-- but muscled in all the right ways, and she carried herself with pride and confidence. A strong, and independent woman that wouldn't accept any bullshit--Very Very attractive, for a human..(and more importantly, she knew how to drink!)... Then there were others, that, while clearly attracted to him (In fact, disgustingly, and insufferably attracted to him)-- like lady Stritzel-- that were not really at all attractive. She was thin, and lanky, with almost no muscle definition, and... was just downright "touchy" (in that she seemed way too eager to touch without permission), and left him feeling like he needed to return to the laundry to scrub with the soap some more to wash the dirtiness off. But generally? Yeah-- they all looked the same.

Thankfully, they didn't all smell the same. He could tell this was Jeanie, the maid that he and Yvonne had convinced to share a drink with them earlier that day. She still had a faint waft of alcohol about her, which made him smile.

"Oh.. uh.. Hiya 'dere miss Jeanie.." he muttered, trying to work up the energy to sound jovial. "Is ih' really da odder way?" he asked pleasantly, only to be given a raised eyebrow and a nod. "It is?-- well, ohkay-- Sorruh 'bout dat..."

She sighed, and shook her head with incredulity. "I know the castle is large Master Cedar, but how you can confuse the WEST wing with the EAST one is just... I don't understand..."

She grabbed his huge paw-like hand gently, leaving him just barely enough time to tuck the weighty metallic object into his waistcoat pocket. "This way-- Past the main hall, and then ..." she rambled, giving directions that were completely meaningless to him. All the hallways looked the same to him; an endless maze of corridors made of stone, polished tile, soft carpeting, paintings, tapestries, and various other expensive decorations, but otherwise completely uniform; with equally spaced and identical looking doors on either side, occasionally interspersed with the less showy doors leading into the servant's corridors. His vision was just fine, more or less; The issue at hand, was that he did not live in a "vision-dominated world." Humans often told stories of getting turned around backward inside of forests or caves, but he never had such problems, as a few discrete scent markings here and there were every bit as good as painting a wall bright red was for a human, and far quicker and easier to accomplish. He himself, and numerous other animals, would just select a random rock or tree, and rub (or.. smear.. ahem.) their scent on it, indicating to others that they lived there, what their health was like, what gender they were, and a host of other things. Essentially, 'street signs' to anyone with a nose that was at least even passably useful. Humans, it seemed to him, were completely oblivious to these. His dad had expressed that he knew "of" them, but confided he could not smell anything of interest, even when right up next to one, other than "Smell a bit like pee, prolly wolf", or "Smell musky. Prolly boar." This had always amused and confounded Cedar, as his dad was otherwise very bush-crafty, and knowledgeable of the creatures that lived there, and how they got along, despite lacking the senses needed to truly participate. Rather than scent, Jack used his vision for nearly everything that his ears could not pick out. Truly, an amazing thing to the bear-man, and amusing to both himself, and to his mother.

Here in this castle though, it would be "Indiscreet" and "Not polite" to mark the halls or walls-- so his dad had told him-- leaving him to do his best to try and memorize the halls by their innate fragrances and scent profiles, but they kept changing in frustrating and unpredictable ways. In the morning, the hall outside his room had a vague scent of blueberry tarts.. and now, in the evening, it had smelled vaguely of ammonia and some fruit he could not really identify. It made no sense to him how the whole corridor could change like that in so short a time.

"..Which then ends up here, at the end of the East Wing, and right outside your door-- SIMPLE as that!"

He just shook his head side to side tiredly. The corridor smelled like.. Gravy. Not very intensely, but.. yes. Beef gravy of some kind. This was just too much. He HAD to ask.

"Uh... Jeanie? Coul' yas tell muh why it is da hall smell like gravey jus naow, bu' smell like somebuddy soak' some kinda fruit inna pot a ammonia afore da parteh?"

She looked at him like he was insane, with the side of her mouth ajar, and raised eyebrows.

"..what?"

"Likes uh said-- an, afore 'at, it smell like bluhberreh tart... Kinda like da tart smell..." he smiled bemusedly. "It change e'ery time uh walks daown ih'.... Git me all confuse' it does. All turn' round backward ih' seems..."

"...It smells like gravy?" she asked with the same confused and incredulous expression.

"Yeah-- Gravey... Beef gravey--- but no' da kin' wit' milk innit.. naw, da kin' ya makes wit' onions and wa'er..."

She boggled, and shook her head as if it were the most bizarre and random question she had been asked all night. "I really couldn't tell you, Master Cedar-- I do not smell any gravy in the corridor-- but I'll take your word for it. They have been making food all day for the party, so maybe you are smelling that from the kitchens.. but..."

"Dey on da odder side o' da buildin', yeah... I knowed." he drawled with a smile.

She looked at him confusedly and somewhat concernedly, then leaned against the doorframe to his room, as if trying very hard to get a grasp on reality. "And you can smell that all the way from here?" she ventured, cautiously.

"Aww naw-- Ain't cookin' gravey daown dere-- ey's cookin' fish! --Da kin' wit da red flesh in'em--.. SALMON! Yeah, 'at's it! Salmon!" he said triumphantly, with a bit of pride and straightness in his posture. "Smell like it frum daown 'atta way, an tuh da lef'-- It da HALLWAY as smells like gravey!"

This latest revelation left her at a complete loss for words, she muttered something seemingly inaudible under her breath, before sucking in, holding it a moment while trying to straighten her face and regain poise and composure. The process took several seconds before she stood fully erect, then turned to face him with absolutely perfect candor-- prim, and proper.

"I am afraid I am at a loss for how it could be that you smell these things in the hallway, Master Cedar, we clean them thoroughly many times daily, but I will make inquiries."

It was his turn to look incredulous and confused at this last revelation. "... Manuh time.. A DAY?" he rumbled. ".. Uh kin see clean'n em e'ery few day 'er so... buh.... Many time A DAY?"

"Oh yes! HAVE TO!" she quipped, with color seeming to bloom in her otherwise uniformly pale cheeks. "Or the DUST starts to gather! SO MUCH DUST!"

He gave her a suspiciously sideways look with a raised eyebrow. "...Dus'?" he drawled. "..Ya's clean all durn day, on accounta a lil' dus'?"

"You have NO IDEA!" she quipped, quickly looking a bit flustered. "It shows on EVERYTHING if you don't keep on top of it! Mistress Sylvia haunts the corridors with a white cotton glove, and if she finds even the slightest hints of it, we get in serious trouble! Regular cleanings, 4 times daily!"

"... Haun'? ... She sum kina ghos' er summat? I would'na .." he started, intending to say that he 'wouldn't put much stock in that kind of thing, excepting for what he's been exposed to the past few days', but she cut him off.

"GODS I WISH!-- No, she's the head maid-- A withered old crone of a woman in a black dress and a white apron. She carries a wooden spoon with her, and whacks us if she feels we aren't working hard enough!"

"She.. HIT yahs?!.." he breathed, incredulous that anyone would treat such nice and helpful people as the castle's staff like that, even feeling a bit protective of them upon hearing this revelation.

"I've... I've said too much.." she stammered, once again struggling to regain her composure. "Please... Stay and enjoy the rest of the evening, Master Cedar, I.. I have duties to attend to..."

"Wuh.. wait wait wait..." he drawled quickly as she tried to pry herself away from him and scurry off like a scared cat. "I's fammish'-- Afore's ya goes, kin ... Kin uh gits soma dat food in muh room? I seen'd 'ere were a table in 'ere...."

She made an exasperated sigh, as if continued conversation with him was making her die a little inside. "... Yes... I suppose... you could..." she muttered.

He clapped his paws together and smiled at her broadly-- (a display that was actually a bit frightening if one did not see the absolute joy that was in the eyes, rather than focusing on the impressively sharp dentition his mouth possessed)-- causing her to recoil in horror, before he quickly slapped a paw over his face in alarm. "oh--- Surruh 'bou' 'at!" came a muffled but mirthful baritone rumble from behind the paw. It was his turn to studiously put on 'proper posture', carefully smoothing his face to make it appear completely safe, and non-hostile, with body language that was alert, but friendly. "uh's is lit'rly starvin', ya un'erstand; --Food at da parteh mighty fine, buh'... Such smaaal servin's... Righ' tortur' ta eats ih'. .. an' den ya gots em' teeneh tineh lil' glasses as force meh ta has tuh reach daown in em with muh tongue, all gross-like-- If'n ya brings meh up sum grub in 'ere, uh can eats all proper like fer a change."

Awareness seemed to dawn on her about just how difficult it really must be for .... something... like him to try and dine in the dining hall, and maintain proper decorum. His needing a lot of food seemed quite apparent in hindsight-- he was ENORMOUS-- as did his apparent need for alternative table-ware-- Just look at his mouth? Of course he had trouble out there...

"I'll.... I'll have something sent up..." she said pensively, then ".. Anything else, Master Cedar?"

He stood there a moment, looking into the empty, and overly large room. The table in there was easily big enough to seat one of him, and four more humans besides, with a large "Stuffed chair" that could seat at least 3 humans sitting side by side comfortably, and number of plush arm chairs in addition to that.

"... Yeah.... Does.. .. When does you folks git ta eat?"

She sighed. It was probably best to tell him the truth.

"We dine after the work is completed, Master Cedar. If there is anything left over from the party, we may have some of it, but for the most part, what Their Highnesses, and their Guests are served, is not what we enjoy here at the castle."

His jaw dropped in shock. This was just... This was just unimaginable for him.

".. .. Le' me git dis straigh'..." he boggled, "Dey makes ya clean 'is 'ere dump FOUR TIME' A DAY, makes ya work an' sweat in 'at steamy arsed room at smell like sumbuddy dun peed on all da walls ta gits da clothes clean, Cook all da food, serve all da dranks, and takes cares ah all da gues's-- an' dey dun e'en le' yas has da good stuff?!"

It was an affront to every concept of moral decency he had, concerning how a guest should approach his or her host. It was UNSPEAKABLE to contemplate that he was being treated in such an elaborately special way, when the people giving that treatment, were treated much less well.

His thoughts dwelled on what the servant's corridors looked like, in stark comparison to the elaborate and decorated halls outside, then made a nasty face.

"Naw! Naw naw naw! 'At won' do a'tall!" he scowled. "Ya goes daown tuh duh kitchens, an' picks out what ya wants, an' brings ih all up 'eres, 'long with muh own dinnar, an' sits an enjoys it wit meh, ya hears?! All a ya, ya all welcome-- Bring meh up a helpin', an' serve ya self while ya at it! Uh insist!"

She looked positively stunned, almost as if he had asked her to join him in the bed-- though, perhaps not quite that scandalous.

"That... That is decidedly improper, Master Cedar." she struggled to get out.

"uh dun care wat dem prissy dandehs think be proper-- Ya'all gittin' a proper meal same as uh is, an uh'd consider it an insul' ifn' ya don'!"

A look of exasperated bewilderment bloomed over her face as if she had just seen him naked and straddling a towel while drying off.

"I.. I'll pass that along..." she croaked.

"Yous does 'at!" he crooned back "Naow hurreh on along-- Dun wan' at ol' ladeh wit' da spoon ta hit ya, does ya?"

She stammered, then made a jerky bow of dismissal, then practically ran away from his room down the corridor. He smiled to himself inwardly, then entered his room, and started straightening it up for guests.