Mas Bagus

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

"It's not about haggling with the majesty," said Jazdia with half-assed seriousness. "It's about what he said. A gratitude he offered. A real man will not renege the word once spoken."

Still leaning closer to the prince, Jazdia continued. "Are you a real man?"

The elf left the question hanging between them for a while. However, the bear's next chattering did very little to reinforce the overly-confident attitude Jazdia had been fronting.

'Ain't no harm lettin' the boy know 'e might consider wha'tis we mights all 'preciate fer da trouble, naw is dere?'
'Auh idears on how we gunna do 'at? Bout did us in, showin at old conjurer da door-- aint nona'us good fer nuttin right naow.... I'

Ugh, She didn't need someone to remind them about their misgivings, especially not when the entire conversation was aimed to cajole the prince into believing that they are his last hope to return to his father. When Jazdia stared back, it was supposed to be two words spoken indirectly; SHUT.UP.

I' dat bread I smells?'

"Yes, it is!" the elf grumbled with veins popping out of her forehead. "And unless you want to get an overdose, don't hog the blue vials all for yourself. Use the red one instead."

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

"I am prince Alec of Kindeance, and I offer you my heartfelt gratitude for a most daring rescue. This debt, I shall never forget."

Jazdia stopped. Finally, the prince spared his time to speak to humble rescuers like us.

The elf glanced at the kid as she approached him, measuring the unpolished wisdom he had in him, wondering what kind of leader he would be after Fred stepped down. It was important because the monetary reward was never her motive. Fred promised a lifetime of gratitude and influence, but it was the word of the man himself, not the prince she will be rescuing.

"And what kind of gratitude you are offering, hmm?" she sniped, with a hard edge of sarcasm, leaning forward to meet the prince eye-to-eye. "How would an esteemed Prince of Kindeance repay the effort of the others who risked life and limb to rescue him from the terrible fate of being cooked alive in a stony sarcophagus? Obviously not by words alone, correct?"

She spared a moment to wink at the bear man, but the druid was too occupied with one of those blue bottles.

Considering that her commitment was never to the point of risking her life to ensure his safety, Jazdia would be fine if the prince would forget this joint effort somehow. She could haggle with Fred to compensate the half part of the deal. She always had her way. No problem, but this time all she wanted to do was to tease the princeling a bit.

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

How did she draw a conclusion that she would like to have one of those alcoholic beverages, Jazdia never knew. The girl already left anyway, replaced by Chonan who returned with assortments of food and cooked dishes.

Walking toward the fireplace, Jazdia tossed the woods into it. One, two, to six, and she had the last one gripped tightly; smoke permeated from it and soon ignited like a bright torch. After a splash of fish oil later, the fireplace lit alive. Warm, bright, and comforting. Sadly she had something else to do.

Perusing the box again, Jazdia swiped a polished brass locket that looked very ordinary in the eyes of the untrained; yet it was unordinary large, slightly bigger than her palm, it has no markings, and the surface was smooth. On its side, it had two buttons, while on the upside, there was a small hole.

Pushing the upper button would unlock the trinket, and eject a pointy metal from the upside hole. Inside it, there were two sections with white granite as its base. Both Granite was stained with bloody thumbprints.

Pushing the lower buttons revealed the content of the trinket. A holographic mirage projected from its upper shell, and the holder could read the writing as if every word were printed in thin air.

Sixteen thousand gold coins to keep the Prince of Kindeance monarchy in custody for a month. Service procured by Jonas Delving, Received and will be honored by Asevor the Wizard. Witnessed by Baron Von Kruber, and Winston.

Winston huh? The name rings a bell that Jazdia couldn't place, but the trinket itself called a record about an association that fancied a blood contract like this. Certainly not the kind of folks you want to mess around with.

Jazdia closed the locket and headed to the antechamber, this time she dragged the chair quietly.

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

"Dead fucking gods, what's in that thing? Taste viler than the usual fare."

"The common ingredient is usually Troll blood. Yeasted, fermented, and distilled. Then you have beetroot and essential oil from crimson fungi. Pharmaceutical alchemy is something I learnt during the short semester at Medical Academy. It is the purest product, so it wasn't watered down, and no additives like sugar or honey were added. What? It's not like it would taste like wine because it looked pretty."

"Shouldn't have asked that." Yvonne's visage contort into one of disgust, taking a swig of the water canteen and gargling loudly. "I should not have asked that. I need a bloody drink. Figure fatface had wine in his cellar? I'm getting myself some."

"The more you know... Years on the battlefield and I thought someone like you would have acquired the taste." the elf quipped.

"Bah. I drank it all, didn't I? Nasty stuff still taste nasty no matter how used I got to it." She spared glance to the bandage around Jazdia, recalling the nasty burn the elf had gotten earlier. "Why dont you take some?"

"Heh, I wish I can, especially that blue vial, it's not as vile as the red ones; mulberry, menthol, celandine, and crushed water wasp."

Yvvone's request was not in any way doubting her credibility, but to prevent misunderstanding from the other bystander, Jazdia felt obliged to explain why would she turn down the challenge, though rather reluctantly.

"Let us just put it this way; my body reacts viciously to any magical stimulant. So, Instead of healing or restoring, any substance with magic on them will be poison to me. It's not a racial trait, nor hereditary and I have been..."

It was not about secrecy anymore when Jazdia stopped mid-sentence and offered her a smile instead. Recalling the origin of her power was almost as painful as her theoretical reaction to the potion in question, and thankfully Yvonne seemed to understand this and not pry any further.

"Well. I'll get you some wine then. Be right back!"

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

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

"Who are you?" Chounan asked the man on the cellar.

@Remuri

"Nobody." said the man. He was sitting at the corner of the room, both legs sprawled forward. Next to him were an empty tankard, a candle, and a small wooden barrel. Some spillings of wine could be seen staining his white shirt, and his eyes were vacant.

"Kindly leave me be, sir."

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

"Alright. Ain't too pretty, but it'll hold."

Oh, it will hold alright... actually, felt tighter than what she preferred, and Jazdia was glad she took off her brassiere before the wrapping begins. Well, couldn't argue with the kindness of others, and it still felt better than doing it yourself anyway.

Jazdia weaved. "Nah, it's okay. Thanks."

Leaving the Rosenving daughter to take care of her equipment, Jazdia's attention shifted to Kaito, who spared no time to report his finding like the little burglar bragging about his bigger score yet.

"Guess what I've found in the wizard's room? There's an entire armoire too, filled with pompous clothing. I cant tell what these stuff are but maybe someone more magically inclined could find it useful?"

Not joining him in his petty jubilation, Jazdia activated her eyes and approached the box. Reluctant to have her bandaged hand touching any of the items stored inside before staring at Kaito with a brief but piercing glare. The message was clear. Always treat the enemy's possession with caution.

"Let's start with obvious stuff first; Five bottles of health potion, three vials of mana potion." The elf placed the bottles on the table. Her eyes were still glowing when she spoke. "They are just ordinary healing and recovery compound. The color is more brilliant because it is the purest you can find on the market, and also, the box preserved the enchantment magic. As far as safety is concerned, they are safe to ingest, unfortunately, I cannot test them myself, but any of you feel free to help yourself with one of these. And I mean you, Miss Rosenving."

Jazdia paused to let the prince rush for the always-reliable orc-woman.

Similarly unexcited, (and it was fairly surprising considering that Samurai had been by Fred's side for years) the foreign swordmaster proposed to search for food, to which Jazdia nodded to grant her permission.

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

____
Silas didn't remember much about the Northbank province, other than it had two major cities and was ruled by Baron Von Kruber, who had been his father's associate before the great crisis ten years ago.

Like several other houses at that time, Von Kruber's clan also struggled with severe economic deficits in the wake of famine that devastated the country for two years straight. If the others were exacerbating their downfall with extravagant spending, his insolvency resulted from a combination of poor management and a series of failures to kickstart the realm's agricultural sector.

One thing led to another, The Von Kruber could have well ended like Rosenving or Stritzel; the former ended up in bankruptcy, all of their fortune sized and their privilege stripped off, while the latter reduced to a minor house with a terrible reputation (some said the head of the clan regularly sleep with her pet bear, but Silas too occupied to get into details about someone else's hobby, nor care about it.)

Anyway, the crisis could be averted after his father took over the Baron's existing debt and loaned him a generous amount of fortune to start a new enterprise again. Of course, the help came with its caveat, and nobody else was any wiser.

The pragmatism behind his father's help was apparent with the Baron becoming his father's puppet and additional voice to strengthen his grip in Kindeance Representative Council. The leniency his father provided, combined with alternatives to postpone the payment had lulled the baron wholesale. Years passed, yet debt remained. The Delving never forgets and so did their debitors before their piling obligations. And that was how Von Kruber became eternally indebted to his family. The amount had been so astronomical the payment was no longer about financial gain. His father practically owned Von Kruber. And his land. And his fortress. And perhaps every soul within the realm.

Admittedly, the last part was his own conclusion. But it didn't take the wisest of man to draw such illations; of course the other nobles wouldn't want to dirty their hand with a matter as dangerous as keeping a prince hostage, and thus the most incriminating role was delegated to the most desperate of them all.

It was underhanded indeed. But personally, Silas had no opinion about it one way or another. That was just how life works, and the reality in the upper echelon of society was full of sophisticated backstabbers who had no qualms with using dead bodies as stepping stones to earn higher standing. That realization reminded Silas of his father's mantra; when surrounded by wolves you have to be a bigger wolf, be a better pack, and trust nobody but your own family.

As he contemplated, Kirsten pointed at a crowd of people standing on the roadside in the distance ahead.

"Look at those people. Do you know them?"

Silas did not know them, but he could guess who they were. A mercenary group, either hired by Von Kruber or their poor informant back at Hdur. There were at least ten of them, with some younger members taking the lead, and seemed itching for a fight.

The party approached the group cautiously, and Silas was the first to dismount with saber still sheathed. Those men combined had no chance against him alone, but a bloodbath was not what he was here for.

Thankfully the tension eased up when a slightly older man stepped forward.

"What's with the high-strung faces? Sheath your junk, We ain't beating anybody on this premises! Go back there, let me handle this. Admiral Silas Delving, correct? Pardon the boys, Ser, we had a rough night last nite so everyone is on edge."

Silas raised an eyebrow at that sergeant. "Explain, would you kindly? Give me the full story."

"Mhmm.." The sergeant looked at his men reluctantly before clearing his throat.

"So last night, some schmuck shanked our night watchers and caused a ruckus. Of course some of the men responded. Then a very tall orc appeared. She was as big as the bulkiest man in our rank. Green, and muscled, armed to teeth and wearin' plates. Matilda Grimsword, she introduced herself."

"Ironsword you mean?"

"Oh ja! She introduced herself as an important high-ranker of some sort from the capital. I know nothing bout her but the capt certainly did. They talked, so left them to settle their business. When the last time I checked there were sounds of canons being set off and fires in one of the houses. Then our men had a scuffle with that envoys."

"Why did your men fight them? I thought you said they were from the capital."

"I know, some know, but most didn't. Capt was so occupied with the orc lady that the other boys were not properly notified. When we heard the explosion and saw the dead and the wounded, they thought the enemy was attacking, and the only strangers in sight were those envoys.

"How many men are in your company?"

"Supposed to be no less than 40, yeah, give or take."

It was a substantial number, but the deplorable tone in his voice said even forty men were not enough to contain them. "What happened next?"

"We dragged our captain's sorry ass out of the ruined barn. Messed up all over but alive. The brawl continued for a while but when we reorganized for a counter-attack, the envoys were already scurrying off to the forest. Probably afraid of fighting us all. To be honest Ser, the boys were extremely pissed, and I tell you not even a disciplined soldier would care about procedures and shit in the heat of battle."

Silas rubbed his chin, nodding as if confirming the mercenary's story. Some details were omitted, he knew that, but the Admiral find no pleasure in forcing a man to truthfully admit that his group had their arses kicked by several foreigners. He knew the feeling.

"Did you know what they were after?

"Nay, but Capt certainly knows."

He lied again.

"Sure he does, but you said he is at Pesti. So I will ask you instead. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, that will be to clear up the south path. Then to send his letter to the army. Had to smooth this thing up, the captain said. That one Madame Matilda guaranteed that we will not be persecuted and will be compensated for the collateral killings her party did, and-- I am sorry Ser, but the letter is secret. Kindly ask the Captain if you wish to know more."

The answer irked him more than he had anticipated. Since then the word secret was being thrown around this easily? It was the second time this day people failed to notice the significance of his nobility, and Silas had been inwardly wrestling with himself to not massacre these pathetic people right here, right now.

Misplaced respect aside, there was a possibility Matilda had informed crucial information about the Prince to them, and neither his father nor the king wanted the information leaked, did they?

More importantly, it was Silas who did not want it, because it will undermine the effort he was working on.

Gulping down a breath to calm himself, Silas would let this one slide. Then again, what was the use if the rest of his company was not taken down as well? Did he really intend to do a massacre in broad daylight? In a populated civilian town?

"I understand. But you said clearing the path? From what?"

"Ivies, the worst kind of thorny plants that grew as if they were conjured from hell just this morning! It blocked the roads to both Pesti and Fanghorn. We hacked, burned, and trampled on them but they kept growing. I swear some of them had minds on their own. We rubbed tallow on our blades and lit it ablaze until the iron was red. It was angry, it moved like a horsewhip and attacked some of my men. It took hours for us just to get through."

The admiral nodded. "So you suspected it was the envoys who grew the roadblock? Did your men see where they flee after the skirmishes?"

"Can't say for sure, but who else? Where did they run? Probably to Fanghorn. Some of my boys saw their horses heading to the north. Are you looking for them any chance?"

When a noble didn't answer immediately, one should immediately realize that they have done something impudent and seek forgiveness.

"No."

"well if you are, you should visit our captain. He knows more than what he lets on."

The nosy type like this was the reason why Silas considered drawing his sword. Relax, no need to be drastic, there was elegance in patience, even when even dealing with boorish plebians.

"I will keep that in mind."

The admiral left the man and mounted his horse. When they rode past him, the sergeant's next words came and go like they were not relevant to him anymore.

"Remember, Ser Silas, tallow on your sword if you want to get past them. You don't have to worry about the path leading to Pesti though, as we have cleared it for you."

It was Kirsten who bothered to offer a smile and say thank you.

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

The intention was to bring the chair to the antechamber and, as silly as it sounded, to help her have a good footing while climbing up.
But then Solomon was there, tending to everyone's wounds and he did not appreciate the additional ruckus.

“Jazdia, Yvonne. In my pouch there is one last container of some pain salve, medicated ointment to promote healing, and some bandages. Take the canteen and clean your wounds with the water. Patch what you can, and where you cannot, I will tend to you. Allow me to see what I can do for Cedar first.”

The elf shrugged, "No, really, don't mind me. As you said, Cedar needs more of your attention." Still dragging her chair, but with less friction than before, Jazdia eyed the Bear man and gave him a thumb-up. "You did good, pal!"

There was an eery silence after she voiced her refusal.

“Jazdia. I will not accept your nonchalant behavior." Solomon insisted in a low tone. He was still tending to the bear, but the voice felt direct, concerned in a way that makes you feel the urge to explain yourself with an unconvincing excuse.

"Please take care of yourself, keep yourself rested," he said again. "There is no further need to exert. Stay here. Petra should be escorting the prince down shortly.”

So the key has been unlocked and the runes encrypted. That was one less loose end indeed, but Jazdia's objective was to find something she could use to wrap this case up nicely when they deliver the prince. The urgency to collect the item was immediate, but the elf had no way to explain it quickly.

"You heard the good doctor, elf. The Rosenving daughter added, though the 'elf' part was not necessary. We all deserve a short break after the whole debacle!"

"That's very nice of you all. Fine, what's the harm anyway?" she said with some sarcasm left and then took the salve from Solomon's pouch and nothing else. Other than that, she had her own supply of first aid kit.

The clattering sound of falling cutlery and thrashed porcelain sounded like a grimacing invitation, but she realized that the sacred table manner had been thrown out of the window long ago when Asevor initiated his unsophisticated spell against them. And thus now the long table was just a piece of wood for her to sit.

"Show me where it hurt the worst. Gotta take care of each other now, yeah?"

"Show it, huh? Here? Now? Heh, fine."

Jazdia only delayed for a mere second before unbuttoning her ruined vest and undershirt and placing them on the table, leaving only the brassiere to preserve her modesty. Burn marks stretched from her shoulder blades, collarbones, and shoulder down to her arms, and upper back. Some other was on the side of her midriff, along with bruises, and lastly, on her fingers and both palms.

"Should I take this off too?" she asked again, pinching the strap of her upper undergarment.

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

Standing under a shack that was once a stable, Jazdia braced for the impact when the blast report reached her. Immediately the elf hunkered down, instinctively shielding her face with the elbow as the shockwave ladened with splinters of ice and debris hurled toward her. The chaos ended as quickly as the explosion itself, but still did another number to her, who was now struggling to keep her balance. Thankfully though, there was no piece of metal rod or fittings sticking out of her torso. Speaking based on experience that was.

Shaking herself off from a mild concussion, Jazdia stumbled out of the ruins, immediately correcting her gait until she walk steadily again and have his eyes focused on something else. The peak of the tower was unchanging. No additional explosion, no fires or smoke or goddamn acid.

"Dead man's switch my foot!" she spat.

The path was muddy, and Jazdia was deliberate with her step as she hiked back toward the tower. The sun was shining again, finally, and she had almost forgotten how good it felt after a bad day, must be the retirement thing.

With no door to kick, the elf entered the room, smiling as she reached for one of the chairs and drag it across the room. "Everyone alive?" she asked amidst the irritating groan of wood against wood. "Good! Don't mind me though, No rest for the wicked they say!"