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In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Indeed,.I just have a recurring char that lives far away, and is technically foreign.

He heeded "orbital drop pod insertion."

You are not expected to have more layers of imagination than an onion, or to write war and peace.

I had to get mr bear from being in hibernation and into the mix. That's all. (But I do have a nasty wall o text habit... try not to pick it up, it's hard to break.)

In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Lily looked at Rose from where they had concealed themselves-- Downwind, naturally-- to eaves-drop on their dad and brother's "Private" conversation.

Mischief bloomed silently between them, and not a single word was spoken. They had known each other their entire lives, and were "thicker than fleas on a dog", as their dad would often say. They had fleas too, of course, having fur all over, and living outdoors-- but dogs didn't rub themselves with fresh smelling, and sticky tree sap like bears do. Dogs were just too dumb to know such simple but effective remedies to such every-day problems-- and neither of these girls was dumb. They knew *ALL* the rub spots in the area. ALL of them.

Another thing they knew-- was that their older brother was going to see a girl-- and that was something they DAMN SURE was not going to miss out on.

It had been a recurring point of cruel joke they made at his expense, that he was twice their age, and not once told a girl he thought she was pretty. The VERY IDEA that he might ACTUALLY say something-- TO A GIRL-- was just too saucy a proposition for them to even CONSIDER passing up. They just *HAD* to be there.

Naturally, the had come to that simultaneous conclusion, completely without uttering a word to each other, and embarked on their mischief together-- silently stalking their older brother from a reasonable distance.

Cedar was not inexperienced nor did he have a proper lack of being wood-wise, but he wasn't the most discrete about his passing through. The two of them were considerably more sneaky than him-- Mainly, due to their mis-spent childhoods being devoted almost exclusively to mischief when their parents weren't watching. As such, they followed him completely unobserved, as he returned to his hovel, came back outside fully dressed with a huge bow over his shoulder, a fat sack of seeds on his hip, and that absurdly large stick he carried around with him.

It was several days travel, with difficult terrain to stay hidden in (given that several open fields were involved, and requiring them to spend a whole day's travel behind him to avoid being caught), before events turned sideways.

There was a wooded thicket, and their brother had stopped for the night there. In the night, he got up to go relieve himself, as he often did at night, leaving his posessions behind (as there was no need to pick them up and carry the for so mundane and simple trip away), when there was a terrible scuffle.

A red headed woman in flowing robes, a bent old crone, and a handful of ugly, stinky men had concealed themselves, and jumped him in the night as he was squatting. Green bolts of magic flared in the dark, loud cries, and cooing laughter followed as loud male voices called out for ropes and chains.

The two girls watched in silent horror as their brother got drug away into the night, loaded into a nearby cart, and carried off. Neither one of them felt foolish enough to try and intercede on such a dangerous and organized assault. Magic like that-- Neither of them had seen, smelled, or touched-- and it was far too focused for them to consider trying to deflect in the ways they knew. All they could do, was hunker down, and watch in horror.

Stricken, they returned to where his makeshift camp was, and collected his things, trying to figure out what they should do.

It was then that Rose noticed something "Magic" that had been in his pocket. Lily snatched it up like a crow stealing a silver coin, and the two of them hunched over it, examining it closely.

"Uh think it needs some juice put in it--" ventured Lily, after trying, and failing, to fully explore its use. It was so complicated inside, it made her head swim when she tried to delve it.

"Is it really safe to do that?"

"Uh don' feel no dang'rous bits.. Worth a shot?"

They hunched over it, as Rose gave it a gentle 'nudge', and it sprang to life. A handsome looking and well dressed-- if somewhat short and scrawny looking-- man shimmered into view in the center of the odd metal medallion, and wasted no time in addressing them. He was wearing what looked like fancy pajamas-- The incompetent magician that lived in town wore similar at night, and they were familiar with the practice, even though their dad preferred to sleep naked.

"Master Cedar-- To what do I owe....." the man started, a bit cheeky sounding, before trailing off. "You are not Master Cedar. ... Who are.. You Two?"

Lily and Rose looked at each other, then at the strange man in the medallion, then at each other again.

"I's Lily..."
"An' I's Rose..."

"I see." said the man flatly. "And where, exactly, is Master Cedar?"

"HE WAS SHOT AT AN' SNATCHED!"
"THEYS DRUG 'IM OFF!"
"WE DUNNO WHAT TA DO!"
"KIN YA HELP US!?"

The sleepy looking, put out, but still very handsome looking man shook his head wearily before answering as if he were dealing with simpletons.

"WHO. Who has abducted Master Cedar. If you want our assistance, you need to answer my questions."

"SOME RED-HAIRED WOMAN AND AN UGLY OL' CRONE!"
"SOME RED-HAIRED WOMAN AND AN UGLY OL' CRONE!"

They blurted in unison.
There was a long pause as the man looked at them with a deadpan expression, that subtly hinted that he knew EXACTLY who the two offending people were.

"You must come to the castle immediately. For both your safety, and his, you must--"

"Mister, we ain't ne'er been tuh no 'castle' afore, how we s'posed tuh git dere?!"

The look of complete exasperation on the man's face was evident as his shoulders slumped, and his eyes rolled.

"Wait there, while I dress. I will contact you again shortly, and then I will tell you how to arrive here."

and with that, the medallion abruptly cut off, the man's visage vanishing in an instant, leaving the two sisters dumbstruck, and staring at each other.
In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
----
[Great misty forest, deep interior]

"NO! Jus' Look it ya! Ya ain't goin' lookin' like at!"

The grizzled, one-eyed man's eye was wide with dismay and indignation. "Yous jus' barely survive da win'er on accounta 'em folks, an' ya wants tuh jus' DIVE righ' back in!? YOU NUTS SON!?"

One-eyed-Jack, his father, was a very... Unique... person. To say the least. Not very many people would even consider being "Married" to a bear, let alone find it "Desirable", for instance-- But on top of that, this man had very very little concern for the affairs of humans outside, and far more concern for the health, welfare, and well-being of even the tiniest songbird, in the most scrubby part of the wood, in comparison. That isn't to say he was completely heartless to human sufferings, only that he felt humans were more than capable of caring for themselves, even to the point that their doing so, often very much jeopardized the health and safety of "Everything Else." -- Like his son.

"Uh din' say uh waz!" he protested, leaning on his walking stick for support. Really, he really WAS very weak with protracted starvation. "You an' Me's gots so dayum much tuh duh as-is, an' uh knows it! But *I's RESPONSIBLE* for em people's suffrin, pops! I CAIN'T JUS' Leave em! Ya taugh' me better 'an 'at, and ya knows it!"

"Yous goes ou' 'ere like at, an' it gunna kill yous fer shour!" the old man persisted, then took a more stricken, emotional break in his tone and demeanor. "Uh.... Uh caint lose ya both... Not tuh EM PEOPLE..."

Cedar hobbled on his staff closer to the old man, and embraced him. He loved the old man very, very much. He felt his hands slide through the shedding, coarse fur on his back, taking tight hold, as the man hugged him back hard.

"Pappi...." he muttered, craning his neck over the much shorter man's shoulder, and behind his neck for a nuzzle. "uh ain't ne'er gunna leave yous..."

The man said nothing. Just shuddered, and buried his face into the fur of his chest. He could feel the warmth of his breath, and the slight dampness of tears there. Cedar gently held him close, and the old man did the same. His protracted absence, and unannounced departure, had severely rattled his father, who had worried himself sick, and nonstop until his return, over a month and a half later. Once again, "Unforeseen consequences" of one's well intentioned actions, bearing terrible fruit.

"Uh's gunna stay a bit long'er-- you an' me's gots suh much tuh duh--" he muttered, rocking side to side, still holding the old man. "Uh know's dis year' "Special" fer yuh an' Mammi... Lil' Pine an' em girls' gots tuh has places fer em 'afore win'er... Wit' 'at many tuh make, it gunna take alls 'uh us workin... Ya knows 'at."

The man let go, then backed up a bit-- pained indignation still hard on his face.

"Suh ya jus' gunna go git, an' run off a'gin, is ya?" he scowled.

"Imma gunna eat wut uh cain afore 'en, dontcha wurry none 'bout 'at pappi..." he said, then placed his heavy paw on the man's shoulder. "... Gunna try an' warsh muh hands uh da whole ugly mess, 'en come righ' back home. Nearly da whole time uhs were out 'ere, uh was thinkin' 'bout bein' back 'ere.. ... an' 'bout yuh.... I loves you pappi. More an' you knowed.... But yuh knows I *HAS* tuh go."

"Ya ain't leavin' till all uh dat work's done 'en!--- AN YUHS BETTER GIT FAT, AN' QUICK, 'er yah ain't goin' 't'all!"

Cedar smiled. He loved his dad so very much.

"Uh will, paps... Promise--- We'd better git on it, en, uh? Mammi ain't gunna let em' little-uns tag along 'ahind 'er fer much long'er, 'reckon. Uh knows how dat is-- Buhlieve meh!" he said with a wry chuckle. "We both know'd she aint da type tuh mess 'round wit, when it come tuh stuff like 'at!"

That single, solitary brown eye narrowed and focused in intensity, and the brow furrowed.

"Nuh-- Nuh she aint!" he said intensely, then slapped cedar on the side. "We be'er git on it, en, shoun't we boy?!"

----

Days turned into a week. Then two.

Old Jack had NOT been idle, while his children had been growing over the past four years. He was blessed with the "Long view" of things, and had been cutting, digging, stacking, and preparing timbers, stones, and other materials as time allowed that entire time, when he wasn't working in the shadows behind the fat, lumbering she-bear he called "Mama", for lack of a proper name, and the cheeky half-human cubs he had sired on her. He always stayed out of her way-- Letting her take the reigns in instructing their children in the hows and whys of surviving in the harsh natural world-- They could not possibly have asked for a better teacher, but he was always there, just in arm's reach, if there was trouble, or need. That was how he and the she-bear managed the need for balance between closeness, and separation that their "Relationship" required. At times, HE would get the kids, while she wandered off to indulge herself on food without competition-- especially toward the autumn months of the year. Times he greatly cherished, and indulged his children with. The man was nothing but love, and affection, with a healthy trapping of fatherly tutelage in "How to be people" when the opportunities arose.

This spring, "Mama" was quite content to let Jack "Steal" the children, as teaching them "How to den" was a very important life lesson that-- as much as it bothered her-- she admitted, she was not the best to give instruction for, given the kind of cubs she bore with her mate, and their unique needs-- and the 4 of them were hard at work putting the supplies he had prepped together, and getting hovels put up.

It was both a source of contentment, and of lament, for Cedar. He loved to see Pine settling into a home of his own-- even if it WAS rather far away from his own-- A necessity actually-- All of them needed quite a lot of space to sustain themselves, and that meant moving quite far from "home", and from each other. But with each hovel being built (thankfully, only two-- the girls had insisted that they would live together, despite incredulous attestations from both their dad, AND their mom, about that), the reality that he would be departing became more and more weighty.

He was still thin, but at least not half-skeletal anymore, by the time all that work was finished.

Discretely, he tracked the old man down again, and cornered him in secret one last time. There were more things... IMPORTANT THINGS.. to discuss with him, before he left.

"Paps... We gots tuh talk."

"Yeas... Yeas we does." said the man, with a kind of cold reservation. "Ya know'd uh ain't happeh 'bout ya leavin."

"Paps.... Yuh GOTTA git dis place readeh... Em problem's outside... 'Ey migh' no' STAY ou' 'ere... You KNOWED what uh mean. We dun talked 'bout dis when uh got back, ya hear?"

"Be a lot easier,---an' uh'd be a LOT happier-- if'n yeh stayed, son."

He was referring, of course, to the risk of both Kindean and Mechean soldiers trying to occupy the village of Mistville, nestled into the bosom of the forest, for its strategic location on the border, and the kinds of supplies either side could pillage from the villagers, in the event of all-out-war. Also, to the risk of serious and catastrophic harm to the forest-- from PURPOSEFULLY SET fires, by the opposing force, if either of them actually SUCCEEDED in that objective. They had decided, that the entire region needed to be as "Completely and savagely unhospitable to any kind of occupational force as was INHUMANLY possible." -- and that meant, rigging the whole forest edge with deadly traps and dangers for any kind of person foolish enough to try to gain admission. A very arduous task indeed, given the immense size of the forest, and the scarcity of able hands to do it with.

Old man Jack and Pine would likely need to spend ever waking moment after the old man's seasonal time with mama, devoted to the completion and succinct assurance of that end.

It would be no small task indeed.

"Uh knowed paps.... Uh knowed." He tilted his head, and smiled at his dad weakly.

"buh' Ya knowed I caint."

"Uh knowed."

There was a long, pregnant pause, then cedar ventured a little more.

"E'res a girl uh cared fer-- in 'at area. Had a narshty woun' in'er chest. Arruh clean through, recon. Poor thang never had a proper meal in 'er life... Did duh bes' uh could fer 'er. Uh wants tuh check on 'er, whiles uhs out. Be on muh way back, quick as kin be, af'er. Promise."

the old man looked at his son with a tipped head, then made a dirty smile.
"AINT LIKE AT PA!" he protested, but the old man just chuckled.

".... A'course it aint--- A'course it aint..." he muttered behind that cheeky bearded smile. "Buh you thinks she need come stay 'ere--- Tuh git be'er, a'course--- Well naow, yuh jus' go righ' on, and bring 'er 'ere. We'll fin' a spot fer 'er."

Cedars ears burned and his nose wrinkled. this was so damn embarrasing.

"PAPS." he protested, but the old man just raised his hand and smiled.

"Bes' be on yer way en, don' ya thank?"


In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
[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.

In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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...

In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Very well-- Submissions:



(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.)





In Sovereign's Will: The Edge of War [Looking for new players] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
Sounds fun. You know my angle already. :P
In Sovereign's Will (An RP about war and conspiracy) [Recruiting Players and Co-GMs] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Interest Checks
sure, I'm in.

Mr cedar can make another visit.
In Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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.'"
In Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED] → 1 yr ago Forum: Casual Roleplay
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.
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