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Solomon Sparrow

Location: Rascade, Kindeance




Solomon slowly closed his eyes with a very slight nod when Cedar expressed interest and gratitude to Solomon’s offer. He pulled his right hand out from under his chin, and turned it up right. His mask waved as Solomon’s lips opened and closed underneath, though any words he might have spoken couldn’t’ be heard.

“Now, if I remember correctly, Caitlyn Stritzel’s residence should be…” Solomon spoke sofetly to himself. He quickly turned his upright hand over again before resting it back down on the table. Solomon had given his order to be carried out. Yet, even the most observant person wouldn’t have seen anything. Traveling exclusively through the shadows cast by the lights of the venue, the undead shadow’s departure would be entirely unnoticed. Even among the guests, the staff wandering the halls of the castle, even the townsfolk walking the streets of the city.

“It will be some time before we have an answer.” said Solomon, “Even for them, nothing is instant. I suggest you take your time to relax. It won’t do you much good worrying about before we have anything concrete. Now, I think I will partake in the banquet. The meal you selected looks quite delicious. I might try some for myself.”

Solomon stood from his place at the table for the first time since arriving. He left Cedar to his own devices now. As he approached the table, Solomon kept his gaze at the other guests. There was something about familiar about Stritzel that didn’t sit right. It’s one of the reasons Solomon offered his shadow for Cedar. There was also the Delvings. Their involvement was far from over. No one goes through the lengths they have to give up now. Still, Solomon gave some hope towards Silas. And then there was the York family. Appearing twice so frequently seemed suspicious. There were many reasons Solomon was not a fan of nobility, but their tendency towards the inhumane was ever growing.
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"If I mistook on it, then I'm very sorry.

I'm Gepard York, son of Thomas York. It's been so long already I attend this kind of event. I just went back home on Hdur from the border line.

So, would you like to dance with me? The music is just started and the night still young. You look like a woman that wants to dance.
" Gepard said. He a smile and keep his gentle tone. He offered an invitation to dance with her.

***


Despite Linceleste rejected by the bear, she kept browsing someone. People have perversion mind to woman are afraid to look on her. There was a fearless and fearful mother who kept watching on her. As those people caught the mothers eyes, their soul might descended to hell.

Linceste accepted the offer to dance from someone who was son of noble and also enrolled to the same school as it was their first encounter. Romance not yet on her mind, she still wanted to fun while being a teenager.
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There were smiles, laughter, and cheers. Two unlikely couples waltzing into the dance floor with blind confidence, people old and young retelling their stories in nostalgia, and two women exchanging flirtation, compliments, and innuendoes, all just to name a few.

But there were always two sides of the coin in every story. Misfortune exists, happens, and was retold if you care enough look meticulously. Cedar the Bear was one of that anomaly. Nobody knew why would he leave the comfort of his table into the wildest section of the party, when all the devils dance, scheme, and scowl.

The noble's talk was tediously long, like green vines with occasional barbs. But this particular group seemed to have dropped such elaborate courtesy and speak in a more straightforward if not vulgar manner.

"Honestly, what are we even here? Don't you agree madam? I bet the invitation was not from the king but from old coot you-know-who."

"Don't worry, young miss, Uncle here would take care of you."

"And your brother too. I have prepared everything. My connection would ensure he could continue his school."

"look. I know I approached this from the wrong angle, I have apologized, what else you would want me to say?

"It is not preposterous, I'd call it pragmatic. Let the memory pass away, for the future. Now don't be so full of yourself. Why do you have to be so full of yourself? What do you have now woman? Fredricus couldn't be any more merciful, and you have debts with Delvings. Own nothing. Not even to support yourself."

"Fine, let us not talk about it anymore, not in front of the kids. Stop it, Reynolds. But Madam-- Sarah, my dear Sarah, we have known each other before you married that-- I know what you are thinking, let us talk about this later, my mansion is always open for you and your children. I hope you can decide quickly before your debtors seize all of your assets until nothing is left but Kruber's tombstone."

"Come here, Dunand, isn't it? Join your sister."
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Cedar's ears flicked apprehensively. This was.. very unusual conversation. He thought hard, but could not remember ever hearing it's like.

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

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

What exactly was going on back there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hoped it was a misunderstanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good heavens!" breathed Adela York.

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

"Absolutely.."
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[NPC Post]

If one were to talk about the most influential woman in Rascade, the name Antigone Steinwall will more often than not come up. Her meteoric rise and her profession led to the sprouting of countless stories and rumors, embellished even more with every passing tale. Yet it was undeniable that her existence alone raised the Steinwall into a ducal house, an effort to tie in the first archmage produced by Kindeance in a very long time. Lesson learned by generations of kings extorted in all but name in order to keep a proper Royal Magus from the outside.

At this moment the middle-aged woman sat with a well-concealed hint of impatience at the soirre, one that only those closest to her can tell. Less indulging in conversations, twitch of the fingers that usually hold the pen, and the long-cultivated gaze that gave the impression of rapt attention but in reality was an exact opposite. After all, how could she not? The recently fished out Ser Henri was a treasure trove of magical artificing, one that she couldn't wait to continue studying.

The duchess was woken from her reverie by a discreet tapping at her hand, mentally replaying the conversation on the table as her gaze fell onto the three children that had accompanied her through half her life. Longer than her late husband, who passed away so unexpectedly. Antigone smiled, three different pairs of respectful eyes looking back at her as a belated realization came into being.

Perhaps she should've cherish the present more.

"Oh dear, dont let my old bones stop you. Have fun, darlings."

Three voices of affirmation returned before the owners split, approaching their respective circles of youth. Antigone had been trying to grow the habit of asking for everything out of them, but the power she held in the household was simply too lopsided. Even the late duke was reduced to a supportive role, and the habit sort-of trickled down to their children. Much to her dismay. But oh well, they'll grow into proper adults soon enough. Hopefully. Until then, they'll be as safe as it could be underneath her wings.

Morrigan, the eldest, found her way to the more martially inclined sons and daughters of knights. Theodore, the middle child and her current right hand, seemed to have interest in the king's unusual guests. Finally, the youngest Fairen boldly approached the prince's table though she stopped in respectful distance as she awaited for an invitation in.

Antigone, for the moment, was content to observe.
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The man behind him seemed to be intent on pressuring the older woman, whom he presumed to be the wife of the former Baron von Kruber, into marriage.

Cedar did not like this prospect, as he felt that any union between the sexes should always be done through mutualistic interest and desire, and not through any kind of coercion. His reasons for this were personal: The difference between his dad being a loving husband, and a RAPIST, stemmed ENTIRELY on the fact that his mother actually desired his father in that way. As far as Cedar was concerned, it made all the difference in the world which situation was true, and which was not. He had argued to defend his father's honor more often than he had cared to dwell on, and this hard-lined distinction was now hard-impressed into what he considered "a right and proper" union.

He had sufficient misgivings to want to 'put an end' to any further 'unwanted advances' by this gentleman, but needed a means to do so without resorting to direct conflict. Moreover, those same misgivings, had him... questioning.. the reason for the young woman's scent of dread and terror. (It *WAS* quite possible that she was afraid of *HIM*, being so close to their table; However, she had smelled suspiciously fearful from across the room, before he had approached just as well.) He had.. Other suspicions.. that he needed to confirm, and for that he needed to.. Well... Let's just say that particular activity necessitated a rather unpleasant facial expression that he had found, humans found particularly threatening for some reason, despite being completely benign, perhaps even flattering, if they really knew what it was. In short, he needed an excuse to stop the man's advances and appear threatening, without actually, situationally, appearing threatening.

He smirked a little as the idea drifted through his head, before suppressing it. He would only really get one shot at this.

The randy gentleman that was being piggishly demanding of the poor widow woman was seated in a chair almost directly behind him; He could knock this man and his chair over if he just happened to back up 'just a bit' too far. A little "Accident" that nobody anticipated, and which startled everyone, even himself, would give exactly the kind of cover he needed.

He tipped his head the other way, as if STILL undecided which drink he wanted, and began backing up toward the man's chair, acting as though he were completely oblivious to the man's presence back there.

Within moments, his huge booted foot collided with the chair leg, the momentum of his far superior mass did its dirty work, and he choreographed the entire plan in rapid succession.

"--AH SHEEII' !--" he cursed in a hurried, but then self-hushed tone, faking surprise and alarm at the collision before spinning around quickly, causing his boot to entangle the chairleg further, and topple it onto its side.

As he spun, he curled his upper lip up, exposing his teeth in what surely appeared a most menacing manner, and pulled a slow and steady stream of air in, and through the roof of his mouth and nose, getting the deepest scent draw he could get on all the now highly startled dinner guests, committing every single detail and nuance to memory, before visibly smoothing his face, making the most pained and exasperated look he knew how to emulate, then bowing deeply to the "Offended" guests, offering his huge paw-like hand to the now spilled gentleman lying on the floor to assist him up.

"-- Ahh dayum-- I's real sorreh-- Please, Furgive muh clumbsiness-- 'Ere, lemme 'elp yous up misser?--"

He was angling for a name, and doing his best to show genuine courtesy to the man whom he had now (very much "Accidentally-on-purpose") caused to go for a tumble, and to the other stunned guests at their table.

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"Since we're here and all - may I claim your first dance tonight?"

With one of her enigmatic mirth, Jazdia held her hand, but instead of letting the Rosenving daughter bring her to the dancefloor, she unexpectedly pulled her closer to her, releasing that hand once she was close and landed her hand on Yconne's toned shoulder. It could very ell lead to a tango, but instead, the elf spun once and pulled her closer again in a shoulder embrace, tilting her head closer to Yvonne's.

Their eyes met, things seemed to have paused for a moment, and Jazdia picked her words carefully. Should she decline it like responding to a jest? Would she offend her if she do so?

"I am afraid you have to look for another dancing partner, Miss Yvonne." the smile was maintained for a while until it gradually wanes as Jazdia's tone turned more sagacious. Should she decline it like responding to a jest? Would she offend her if she do so?

"I am no stranger to participating in a ball dance and I am sure you are more than capable to keep up, and I don't doubt the performance would be great, but such a spectacle would draw a dangerous amount of attention."

Then she released her, smiling warmly and diplomatically. "Well look at that, the charming Admiral himself in the flesh!"

As Yvonne turned, Silas Delving was just a few steps ahead of them.
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Kirsten adjusted her glass as she made her decision. Gepard was not sure if she confirmed or denied his offer until her paltry smile escaped her lips (and surprisingly) his offered hand accepted hers, and was put it onto her waist. He smiled with satisfaction, feeling she was being serious, and not just leading him on; a gesture that she wanted him to lead her out, and on to the dance floor.

They strolled like a couple onto the dance floor, where they joined in and took their positions. Gepard recognized the music immediately, and responded with muscle memory to the beat, adapting the moves as he went. He put geat care with his partner-- a gentle touch on the waist accompanied well-placed steps, supporting her movement in a smooth and energetic twirl that seemed to come without effort.

The York family often practiced dancing at home, as part of their lessons to their children: It was a part of Gepard’s life. Dance and meter were taught right alongside his martial training, and had continued even during his soldiering. He was known to break into dances at times to relieve himself of the stresses of trying and difficult times when stationed on the front lines.
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The dancing goes on, the music was amped temporally and now returning to its slow melodies. Kirsten already lost count of how many twirls and harmonious cortes she did, but she was ready to do more.

Or perhaps a breather would do. Sweats were already formed on her forehead, and she tried to dampen the fatigue by humming the music. Dancing was almost like a swordplay, one step forward, two steps back, remember your footwork, easy your body, and let he music guide the movement. She looked at Gepard, and the two smiled at each other, enjoying the mellowing tune until Kirsten talked to him.

"Not too shabby aren't you, Gepard York? It's been a while since feel this worked up."

***


When Cedar accidentally jostled the man, the force was so strong that he instinctively grabbed the tablecloth before falling, taking with him a cup, and a plate of snacks and causing some glass wines to topple sideways and spilled its content toward the centermost persons of that group.

The stumbled man, similarly spoiled by his own man quickly rose up to his feet and deflected the helping paw, understandably angry with the whole situation. Cedar asked for a name but it seemed he wouldn't get any. The man was ready for an outburst until his friend stepped in.

"It's okay pal." The man said, looking up with a bemused expression. "accident happens... you okay?"

Murmurs were already rippled through the crowd. Two servants rushed in, and one of them immediately escorted the fallen man back to his seat. The other, who seemed to have been trained for this kind of situation politely ushered Cedar back to the spot he once was, maybe slightly more away to ensure that he is out of their line of sight. The widow and her daughter were wiping their laps with a handkerchief while the young boy sit there with a dumbfounded face, and eyes shifted between his mother and Cedar.

"What the fuck was that?" blurted the man with a stained doublet. Even from this distance, his voice could still be heard by the keenest ears.

"Fredricus's new pet, if you don't remember."

"I know he is, but fuck me, I swear it was deliberate. He had been there by the table for quite a while."

The man paused, he scanned the surrounding and called for another servant after realizing that his glass was now shattered glasses under the table. Irritatingly, he asked for a replacement before returning to his friend.

"Yeah, I saw him. What do you think, a newcomer, being endorsed by the king and he already thinks he owns the place. Disturbing another guess and then just go after a sorry as if the words sorry could clean the stains... Poor Elaine here is uncle's handkerchief use it to wipe the stains..."

"Messing with us just because he can." mused the guy with the stained doublet. "Back in my father's days, commoners like him would get beaten up! King's protection could only last so much, you know. Now everything is more blatant, no respect, and that fucking animal is the reflection of what is wrong with this country."

"The way you say that makes Delving's plan to restore the tradition sounds very reasonable." The man chuckled wryly. "But we might just overanalyze things. Like you said that guy is an animal, maybe his motives were not to mess with us, but because he is attracted to us?"

"Mason you piece of shit. There was no way!"

The man 'uncle' laughed. "Who said it's you? Maybe he is interested in you, Sarah. He suddenly gets clumsy after seeing your beauty. What about you, kids? Would you like to have a bear as a father?"

The reply comes somber, almost inaudible, but the man's reply was clear still.

"Then make up your mind, woman!"

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Cedar glowered somewhat menacingly at the 'chaperone', but very sternly and politely addressed him.

"Sair, I dun' need ya ta tie meh to nobudy's apr'n strangs. I an't no chil', an I assures ya, I a LOT bigger an ya is. I ain't lookin' fer no trouble, but I kin clean up muh own messes. Ya hear?"

He turned back around just in time to hear the men talking rather rudely about him, which he studiously ignored. The hassling of the poor woman however, he interdicted on. He walked casually back to the edge of the table, well within talking distance, but outside of the patron's personal space, and where it could still be rightly called a 'common area.'

"Hey naow--" Cedar said very calmly. "Leave 'at poor lady be. If she who uh thinks she is, she dun been through 'nuff a'ready, an' dun need nunya bull-sheeit. I jus' come down tuh get sommat ta drink 'at muh face might righ'ly fit in-- Lil' bitty glasses is made fer hooman folk like yaself, nut for big ol' fellars like meh ya knows."

He had long since come to "just ignore" the hurtful bullshit some humans uttered. They only demonstrated how small and un-exercised their minds were when they behaved that way. He switched to a friendly, jovial tone.

"Asides-- anuhbuddy kin see da lady ain't intru'sted in summat like meh-- Onleh person 'at is, be 'at --creepy ol' hag-- Cait'lyn Stri'zle."

He made a revolted shudder, then turned his head.

He addressed the lady directly.

"Currect muh if'n I's wrong, but you's Mrs von Kruber, righ'?"
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Yvonne's smile momentarily widened, though unfortunately she didn't get her wish. A flash of disappointment briefly marred her expression, but all in all she took it rather well. It's understandable, yes, but that didn't make it sting any less. Perhaps she's been too hasty in her advances.

"Well, I suppose you're right-" Loud crash, followed by smaller crashes and yelling and cursing and sounds of glass breaking. The entire room, Yvonne included, swiveled to the source of commotion. It took a lot of self-control not to say something scathingly sarcastic at this moment, but she managed.

"Well, looks like he beat us to the commotion."

Just a little sarcastic.

"Why, it's Admiral Delving! I didn't see you earlier. Have you been well since our last meeting?" Said the mercenary, doing her best to pretend that the bear wasn't someone she's familiar with. Juuust an unrelated third party, nothing to see here.

...Freddy's gonna chew him up later, wasn't he?
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The talk stopped abruptly. "Oh, here we go again."

Cedar the bear, standing fully upright towered beside the sitting guest. The man with stained doublet was still for a moment, his ire rose and boiled as Cedar speak.

His voice was indistinguishable rambles, but nobles knew an order when they hear it, and this order came not from anything remotely superior or kingly, but rather from a woodland bumpkin who happened to earn their king's favor. How dare he!

He stood, face red not only by anger but also embarrassment, regulated lots of self-restraint. Either because he acknowledged the disparity in weight and perceived strength or tried to be a better man by not instigating a fight himself, nobody could know.

A harsh, confrontative glare was all he could do before he left the table. Meanwhile, his comrade leaned against his char, his expression was stern when Cedar uttered a name.

"Currect muh if'n I's wrong, but you's Mrs von Kruber, righ'?"

The woman was even more tense. He eyed the bear defiantly, her body trembled in a seething disdain, but he closed her eyes once and managed to appear emotionless. Her words were hoarse and stifled, yet comprehensibly calm.

"I am. What Do You Want?"

*************


Admiral Silas Delving laughed. "That's very kind of you asking that. It appears that I am quite well!

And then he sighed exasperatedly, though still trying to keep a hard edge out of his
voice, He failed. "but things could've always been better."

"Are you two not dancing?" he continued somewhat more jovial this time. "Don't tell me even the most lavish party in Rascade has managed to disappoint two gorgeous ladies and leave their feet cold! That would surely tarnish the reputation of our capital city."
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Cedar breathed a huge sigh of relief, then relaxed his posture noticeably.

'Ahh, guud..' he drawled somberly. 'Sorreh I dun dove off ya gues' 'ere, bu' it seem fate ain't all bad; --got a chance ta talk atcha..'

He nodded and slightly tipped his head. Ears went wide-apart with genuine contrition and sorrow.

'..Ya has muh deepes' condol'nces, concernin' ya people an' ya fam'leh.'

He made a short bow of dignified respect, with one arm behind his back, then straightened up again, keeping the pensive and sorrowful posture.

'It been weighin' heav'ly on meh, 'soon 's uh heard wut happen. Uh from a quiet rural taown tuh -- an' -- we din' git no help when we got ...' he trailed off then forced forward.

'I wann'ed ya tuh know, I wants ta help yas, an' yer peoples. Anuh way uh can. Sadleh, fer reas'ns I caint avoid, uh caint help em poor people a yorn... buh', see'in as ya here.. mebbeh I kin help yas, an' ya faml'eh. --No charge."

He looked innocently at the remaining 'table guest', then back again.

'His Majes'y dun reward'd meh han'somely fer protectin' is boy 'is pas' week. .. as yas kin plainleh sees-- I's a bear-- Uh dun' realleh need no money. --I sorreh, buh', I o'er heard yas has .. troubles... bu' uh has an idear, if'n ya in'rested. I has more 'n 'nuff tuh buys a nice, com'fer'ble haouse in taown-- mebbeh smaller'n ya used tuh, bu' yu'd beh welcome tuh it. It a fair be'er use an I cud put deh money tuh nohow, --an uh'd feel be'er 'bout not helpin' ya people rebuild 'er lives af'er wut happen'. Uh'd wear da harness an' pull da plaow muhself, if'n uh could..."

He once more looked at the other man-- 'Mason'? Was it?--, but kept talking to her. "Naow, afores ya gives an answer, uh won' be stayin' dere. Uh pruhfers were uh already is." He looked back at Mrs von Kruber. 'Uh don' wan' nut'n in return. 'Prop'rteh be in muh name, so ain't nobuddy got claims tuh take it. Ya coul' stay 'slong as ya like, an' leave when'er' yah wan'. E'en come back 'gin, ya needs tuh. Ya welcome tuh it--You 'n ya faml'eh been through 'nuff. Don' need people tryin' ta do ya wrong-- spec'lly af'er .. .. 'af'er wut happen'."

He paused a moment, then continued.

'Ain't nun muh bus'ness who ya marry, nor e'en if nor when-- I jus' wan' ya tuh know, ain' no rush. Ya takes ya time-- picks who ya wan'. Ain't nobuddeh should e'er feel pushed tuh do summat nor be wit' summat 'at dey dun want. Ne'er. 'At a sacred thang.--- buh you's thinks on it, aright? uh's real sorreh uh ruin' ya table. Only fair-- ya can has mine. If it please ya, you an' ya guests kin go o'er dere, while 'ey cleans up 'ere. If'n ya decides tuh take muh up on 'is, an' need a place tuh stay, uh'll talks wit' his highness.. see in'f ya caint stay 'ere in da cas'le tuhnight. Uh'd e'en give up muh room fer ya..."

He felt he had grossly overstayed his welcome, but had said what he wanted to. ... done what he wanted to..

Any more needed her consent, and he was not about to pressure her.

Far the opposite in fact.

'Lemme knows wut ya decides. No strangs-- no pressure. Ya choice.'

He bowed again.

'Have a gud ev'nin, Mrs von Kruber. Won' take no moar 'a yoar time.' he said, then turned and walked away.
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The dancing goes on, the music was amped temporally and now returning to its slow melodies. Kirsten already lost count of how many twirls and harmonious cortes she did, but she was ready to do more.

Or perhaps a breather would do. Sweats were already formed on her forehead, and she tried to dampen the fatigue by humming the music. Dancing was almost like a swordplay, one step forward, two steps back, remember your footwork, easy your body, and let he music guide the movement. She looked at Gepard, and the two smiled at each other, enjoying the mellowing tune until Kirsten talked to him.

"Not too shabby aren't you, Gepard York? It's been a while since feel this worked up."


Gepard loved the sound of her humming. It was an even, and beautiful sound. He accepted her commendation with gentle and warm smile, told her that 'perhaps they could dance again some time', then took greater care with her fatigue. He guided her back to her seat as the dance concluded, then remarked to himself how fond of her he could already feel himself becoming. He really hoped she would take him up on his offer tonight. Or any other night. Perhaps... whenever she wished.
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"What my husband did before his death?" Sarah had asked her surviving servant. Right after she arrived at her home, where her beloved husband lay sundered apart. "And with whom? Was it that wizard?"

"They said they were king's agents. They were accompanied by a bear, an elf, and a masked man. After that, a fight broke."

Sarah had come prepared, the moment she entered this building, her faith was steadfast, there must be a good reason for it. The king would listen to her grievance, and she would listen to his reason. She had well past the denial, anger, and bargaining. All she needed was an explanation. If it was some kind of punishment, she would gladly accept. If there was something she need to reimburse, should give her possession. She just wanted a talk, not this.

A wave of shame and anger washed Sarah Kruber when the bear uttered his first word. Good? There was nothing good with her situation. Her husband was dead, and her home thrashed beyond repair. And now she had to attend a banquet to celebrate the promotion of people that might murder her husband?!

Next words struck like thunder. Sarah froze, prepared she was, but it was still hurting nonetheless. The bear was still speaking, but all Sarah could hear were foggy words, almost nonsensical save some keywords that further drew her ire.

All that ruckus, just to explain this? The stains hadn't even dried yet!

She was shaking, trying to wriggle free from debilitating grief. She looked at her children, their faces were a mixture of sadness and confusion. And while the bear's words remained hazy noises, something snapped when the nobleman beside her quipped the summary.

"Looks like he will be your new housemaster. How pitiful..."

A sudden shock and anger flared in her like never before. How dare he! She stood up, and the words were no longer hidden.

"You, I know you, you were one of the murderers! I asked why are you here? Was it to gloat?!" she panted, her voice was thick and reckless. She walked from her table shivering, blood thundered in her face as her outrage rose, deviant and irrational. Her eyes, wet with tears now locked at cedar.

"We don't need your pity! How dare you!" she shouted, loud, clear, and full of anguish all of the attention was now directed at her and Cedar. And for a split second, she glanced at the robed king on his throne. Majestic, powerful, and unreachable. While Cedar, the one she believed represented his Will, was here; big, reachable. An easy target.

"I-I just want an answer! Why did you kill him?! A-are you not going to tell me?" she pleaded, barely a second before her voice cracked in utter disgust. "No? Then tell your majesty I hope he is satisfied with my husband's sacrifice!"

"Come on, Dunand, Elaine. We have done enough for the crown today!"

It was a mess. The music ceased, and so was all the dancing. The servant sprung awake to defuse the situation, but as they got there, Sarah Kruber had already made her way toward the exit.

"Leave us be! I can leave by myself!"

Besides the guards and some servants. A certain journalist could be seen rushing to catch up with the widow and her children, peddling the name of his agency and the importance of her testimony. Silence engulfed the entire hall, following reproving murmurs that spread like wildfire. The annoying 'uncle' left his seat and joined his partner, seeking another group to mingle.

Only one person could be seen smiling triumphantly.

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He could feel the entire room's stares baring down on him. The stench of anger and indignation in the room was stifling.

His heart sank. He really had been serious with his offer to Mrs von Kruber, and it still stood, if she changed her mind. Though that probably didn't matter now.

He bowed his head in dejection, then turned to face the king's table, and made a very low bow, before speaking very loudly, and very clearly, but solemnly.

"Uh apologize tuh his Hightness-- Lord a 'dis house, and high king o' Kindeance... It seem 'at Uhs is unable tuh acc'ept his mos' generous invitation tuh join him in dis' haouse, an' tuh has soiled his generous spirit, in takin' a chance on sommat like muhself..."

He shivered with nervous apprehension. Sweat broke out beneath his fur. His voice wavered.

"Try as uh migh', it seem it impossible fer meh tuh be da man he see me as-- an' tuh only be da bear, as oder's sees-- No ma'er how fancy da clothes is--. Uh onleh offer'd muh condolances tuh de widdow o' da late Baron von Kruber. -- Geniu'n, HEARTFEL' ones. But it seem uhs destined' tuh only e'er be a bear, ---curs'ed with de heart o' a man. She believe I kill' 'er husban'.... Buh I didn'... She think I mean ta shame 'er... Buh I don'. I wann'ed only ta off'r 'er and 'er family da fulles' exten' ah muh honor, muh integr'teh, an' muh support: A haouse a 'er own, an' da fulles' exten' a wat uh owns-- at no obligation a hern at'all-- free a charge: tuh use as she will. Bu' ih' wern' 'nuff. --Alls I manage, were tuh anger 'er, an' disgrace dis haouse. --Insul' a woman, as don' need more insul'n, an' cas' shame on da man as invited meh tuh stay in 'is home. .... .... Uhs sorreh, highness.. But it seem uh cain't stay. .. Buh Uh thanks ya fer tryin-- all da same. ... Uh'll go naow... an' no' darken ya days agin. ... Bears seem..... Bes' lef' outside."

He bowed so hard, that his head almost touched the floor, remained there for quite a few seconds, then stood, and walked calmly to the exit of the dining hall.
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[NPC Post]

Commotion was inevitable this evening, what's with how that old bastard Jonas - may there be a special place in hell reserved for that man - undoubtedly seeded his chess pieces here. The spark already flew before Fredricus even finished opening the soiree. And it's not like the guests of honor were free of any issues either, what's with Crystalspark's enigmatic personality or Rosenving possibly coming into contact with her estranged parents or the bear-man being way out of his depth. When it did happen, however, was a much larger matter than expected.

The first crash attracted attention, but the party still went on. Accidents happen, after all. But when the screaming started, even the musicians slowly stopped playing as the mood ground to a halt. Yet when the fools, the fence-sitters, and the uninvolved set their eyes to watch the show, Fredricus scanned for the ones who hold the strings. His eyes met Jonas for a moment, undoubtedly having the same idea, inwardly picturing how great it would be to throttle the old snake until the last sign of life faded from his corpse. But Fredricus reined in his temper. That seemed to be something he had to do a lot lately. Thankfully, the two of them almost simultaneously looked away. In low tone the king sent out an order to his chamberlain, who in turn passed it to his personal servant. The man slipped closer to the site of incident, at the edge of plain sight yet nearly unnoticed. For who would notice a servant in this room, when they didn't need anything? Moreso with a dramatic moment to drink in.

The entire hall was silent after Cedar's declaration and summary departure, all attention then shifting to Fredricus like a shifting tide. He let it stew for a moment, until the now much more apparent servant returned with a short version of what happened. The room waited with bated breaths as he listened, before finally standing up to address the issue.

"It seemed that my guest have difficulty conveying his intent, moreso to someone so overtaken with grief." No chance he's letting Jonas spin this into something outrageous. Best smother it in the crib. "Tonight is a night for celebration. I shall overlook both Sir Cedar's clumsiness and Madam Kruber's outburst, and they will have a chance to straighten this up in a more private occasion with my representative present to facilitate proper communication." His gaze scanned across the room, as if challenging anyone to speak up. Nobody did. "As for Baron Kruber's untimely demise, that is a matter still under investigation. The news will be publicized at a later date once the men on site finished analyzing the scene. That is all. Continue." The last part was directed to the musicians, who hurriedly resumed playing as if their neck's depending on it. As Fredricus sat down, murmurs of gossip almost immediately suffused the room.

Some rumor will undoubtedly spread tonight, but Fredricus had a proper picture painted and ready for dissemination comes the next day. Otto von Kruber will be painted as a martyr, a treatment way too good for a treasonous wretch like him, but Fredricus will let that go. As long as that snake Jonas is snared in the end, sparing a few underlings in the process was not out of question.
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There's countermeasures for unauthorized spellcasting in the hall, but as the one who oversaw the entire thing Antigone naturally left a few minor loopholes to her advantage. And as Mother's most trusted second, Theodore had the privilege of perusing some of those. A minor cantrip built into a ring that temporarily shunt the user to the edge of someone's perception if they're not paying full attention to him, allowing discreet maneuverability for someone otherwise constantly under scrutiny. He had taken the moment when the king's servant attracted all eyes, where no one was the wiser to his disappearance.

Mother's brilliance made it difficult for her to act discreetly, but on the other hand she draw the lion's share of observation from their enemies. It would be foolish not to take advantage of this little fact, and thus Theodore tend to take subtler tasks that didn't necessarily require her presence.

"A moment of your time, Master Cedar."

Theodore had pictured this going a bit differently, but he had underestimated how fast an upset bear can move. If not for how the latter seemed to be at loss with the castle's architechture he probably wouldn't have caught up. As it stood, a slightly out of breath Theo paused nearby to gather his bearings before he could continue speaking.

"Theodore Steinwall, if you recall. Our first meeting was at a less fortunate circumstances, but I hope you wouldn't hold a grudge over it." After all, he's the one who was present to confirm what the... jailor had gotten out of Cedar shortly after the bear was summarily bagged and beaten for "suspicious behavior". "A moment of your time, before your tails caught up to you or someone notices I'm no longer present in the party?"

The Steinwall fully supported Fredricus' reform plan, yes. But that didn't mean they'll not do anything to prepare for it. While some houses decided to take the seditious path, there's other ways to retain power even when the nobility titles were gutted. And to that end, the bear before him was a highly valuable piece to have.
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"Whut is it ya wan?" he asked almost on the verge of tears. "I jus' wan' go home. --Buh' 'is place!?"

He motioned around the hallway grandiosely and irritably "SMELL DIFFN' E'ERY TIME UH WALKS IN IT!!"

He leaned against the wall, and visibly wept. "..... Uh jus' wanned..... jus....." then sobbed quietly, and said nothing.
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