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

Dawn was breaking on the horizon when Cedar came huffing and snorting down the road, and back to the forest edge near Fanghorn castle. To his surprise, there was nobody there at all, except the old hunter Reinhold.

"Hey--" (short, huff) "Where e'ry buddy a'?" he huffed at the man, who seemed more than a bit put out at simply waiting around all damn night. "They tells muh ta blocks da damn roads, an' they decided ta go an' run off? I swears-- Em kids is dumb as rocks..."

Put out, he shambled over near where the man was secreting himself in the underbrush and laid down to cool off. He really didn't understand the thought processes of other people some times.

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

The elf woman asserted she would keep an eye on Reinhold, but it was not the positive affirmation from the man himself that he really wanted. The implication that some manner of expediency would called for was not lost to him, and he thought for a moment, what the best plan of action would be, quickly formulating what, at least to him, seemed a reasonable and plausible use of time, resources, and cost-efficient travel.

He snorted, then took off toward Fanghorn, only slowing down when he could truly see the palisade in the moonlight. Working quickly, he planted seeds in an unusual pattern, mixing several types based on what he had determined of their growth and magical properties earlier, and snatching up seeds from the moonlit grasses and wildflowers along the road leading to the small sprawling village to further augment his supplies. This much work, this far from the wild and robust magical nexus of home, in so short a time would be terribly taxing for him, but he had the advantage of time on his hands, and so he took the opportunity to plan this out, and plan it well.

The first area of business, was the road just as it was entering town.

Carefully, he grabbed an end of old dry plant stalk out of the ground, and used it to draw on the surface, laying out quadrants, sextants, and plotting areas of influence in the ways his dad had shown him. He didn't have a forest to work with, but he could maybe set up some low-level self-sustaining reactions, with proper placement and planning, and that's exactly what he was doing. Marking, measuring, and sewing appropriate seeds in the dark. A more or less circular area filled with grapes and green briar, surrounded by a larger circle filled with grasses, flowers, small shrub seeds, and anything else he could scrounge up that was growing wild in the area that provided the needed influences, surrounded it. Small dark spots dug and covered over in the silver light.

Carefully, he trotted up behind the farm houses and away from dogs and others that would give him away, and snuck in close to the curtain wall, then proceeded to seed the curtain wall edge with 3 roughly triangular wedges of a circle near where the walls of the keep and palisade met, and across the north most exit, before sneaking back along the side of the river, toward the south end of town again.

Getting in near the south gate was the hardest and most risky part of the plan, but also, in his assessment, strictly necessary if this fort was to get completely cut off, and reinforcements rendered unable to enter or leave with any degree of rapidity. It required getting in tight up against the buildings closest to the gate, and had the highest risk of detection and being shot at. At the very least, in his current costume it would be unlikely to draw a very large force-- just enough to chase him off into the night most likely, should he be detected. He did not really seed it as well as he would have liked, due to the difficulty of getting in close enough, but he did seed it at lest partially, then took off across the fields, and then back over the road to the south and east, and toward pesti.

There, in a close area where the road had to go through dense forest, he paused a moment, and smiled to himself. Nature had provided a means to an end for him, in the form of forest edge wild roses. In a fit of puerile self-indulgence, he snuck in and collected several of the mature rose hips from the heavy brush, chewed them happily, then spat out the seeds into one of his paws for use here and later. Once more, he seeded the road as it entered the wood, and then seeded the area just before it to help influence that growth. If all went well, that road would become an impenetrable wall of roses and thorns once it was set off, then took off once again, back west, past the group, and then south toward the bridge.

The sun was beginning to peak out of the horizon by the time he had finished his work there-- Roses and green briar, with grape vines all around the support pylons of the bridge, and influence gathering caches on either bank.

He was physically tired from the rapid pace of the work, the excessive running needed to clear the distances needed, but he began the final push.

First, the regions of influence-- With them up, sprouting and closing the bridge and roads would be much easier, as he only needed to guide what he had set up, then allow it to continue growing without him. By midday, there would be impenetrable masses and tangles at those locations.

Retracing his way back, as the sun was rising, he returned to the forest edge near Pesti, and worked his magic there.

He was a panting and snotty nosed mess by the time he made it back to the meeting area...

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

Cedar was momentarily startled by the unannounced intrusion into the private conversation he was having with Reinhold.

"Oh, ya wants meh tuh plug up da roads? Won't da locals get upset? I mean-- I's can do it, but em farmers' gunna be right cross wit' us nex' year when theys wants ta send in their goods 'n such. Thinkin' it'll keep em from runnin' off with the lil' tyke are ya?"

He returned his attention to Reinhold.

"I knowed at em barstards went an killed yer friend-- Dayum, We's even found da body man-- Stuck 'im in da back an lef' im dere... But lissen tuh me a minute, wouldya? We catch em barstards as did it, we gonna squeeze em till they eyes pop out. I's knows some crows as'd like tuh eat em. But we gots ta be sure 'eys really da ones as did it, unnerstand? Odderwise, ya runs da risk a killin' some odder ol fool's frien, and den HE want OUR eyes popped out, ya? Dun worry-- We'll git em. An when we does, we'll git em good. Bu' righ' naow, we gots ta keep our heads, unnerstan?"

The long eared elf woman nodded, and affirmed that yes, she knew, and yes-- that was one of the reasons they needed to be closed.

Cedar huffed out a sigh, then returned his attention to Reinhold once more.

"I ain't just no ord'nry talkin' bear, ya knows. I's a MAGICAL talkin' bear. Look like I gots work tuh do. Prolly gunna take all nigh'. I wantcha ta tells muh ya gonna keep ya head in all dis, aright? I dunno why, but ya reminds me a muh pappy sommow. Dun wantcha ta git hurt no moar an ya already is, aright? Look like I gotta tear up da groun' scamperin off inna nigh' ta go clog up some roads 'n bridges. I'sl come back soon 's I can- Stay outta trouble till 'en, a'ight?"

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

"Ahh. I gotcha. 'At kin'a da reason I tooks muh clothes off. I looks like any odder bear 'issa way. Ain't nobody suspect no 'dumb ol' bear'-- (ne'er min' ain't no such thang. Bears jus' think 'bout diff'nt stuffs.) I's kin nose muh way 'roun ou'side, an' git real close like jus' fine, long as I don' try ta act'lly go in. 'Ats when 'eys tries to put pins in me. Odder-way 'round, I goes about in muh clothes. Peoples dunno what ta do seein' me all dressed up an such when I's in town- Knows I ain't no ord'n'ry bear, and-- mos' time-- let it slide. Specially when I talks at em. Walk right in. I tries at o'er dere, I prolly gets da pins in muh hide. --Don' like gettin' shot at, den again, I s'pose nobody really do."

He plopped his but down on the ground to sit down, still propped up on his arms.

"they's still tryin ta figger out which place they goin tuh." he continued. "Thinks he dun been moved. 50-50 he been, pr'olly. I figgers, No matter which theys takes, like "dis", I kin nosey up real close like, an poke aroun. Git a good looks at stuff. Stay 'ere all day if'n I wants, 'slong as I don' go in. City peoples freaks out when I does 'at. Think I gunna eat em, er run off wit' a cow or summat. Bear as does at doin' it cause they so hungry they ain't thinkin' straight. 'Em fellars yas roomin' wit-- 'Ey lookin like at too. Bears no diff'rnt. 'Ey knows what peoples does-- 'ey jus' don' talks bout it da way people does. A'cause a dat, peoples thinks theys dumb. --- Work in muh favor, ya know what I mean."

He sat back up again with a bit of a stretch and a lurch.

"I's was thinkin-- Which e'er em folks back 'ere asides ta do-- You an' me's kin do the walksie, and has the looksie. Ya kin sneaks aroun', and watch fer the fellars as might shoot me full a pins-- and I's kin nose about up close like. We can work tugether, ya'hear? Ya get hungry la'er, le' me knows. I'll whoop us up sommin. How 'at soun'?"

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

Cedar rolled his eyes at the absurdity of the answer. It was not at all what he had asked, at least to his estimation.

"Noo nooo-- Not up 'ere--.. Daown 'ere! Wutcha trackin' fellar! What ya lookin' at! Footprints? Broked sticks an' branches, cmon. Use yer head. Shows me wat yer lookin' at, so's Is can lends a hand. Dayum. Ya thinkin' 'eys wents Eas', or Wes'? I smells people stuffs e'er way."

"I gots 'lot ridin' on gettin' at lil' fellar back ta his pa. Soon'r I does, Soon'r I kin git home."

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

"Naw-- Ain't good as daytime, but dis time a year, folks likes muh mam's out eatin' almos' e'ery night at some point. Ain't 'nuff hours in da day ta gets fed right odderwise. Mos'ly hunt'n berries, buts ya gots ta see ta fin'em. Sure, yas can smell em afore 'en, but somes ya wants ta stay 'way from the thorns an' stuffs-- like roses. Roses on dis time year. Poke yer nose what good ya ain't careful. Bit sour 'ough. Nigh'time sleepin' fer da summer and stuffs. Dis time a year, ain't nuttin but hungry, all da damn time. Damn nuisance ya ask me! --Hell, et' a whole damn kettle o' soup-- 'nuff ta feed 10 people like yaself--, an' I's STILL hungry! Win'er commin' soon."

He shook his head and flopped it like a dog shaking its ears.

"'nyhoo-- I's all grays and stuffs. No color, but I sees da shapes fine, an' movement real good. Naow again fellar, stop holdin' out on me-- what ya lookin' at?"

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

Cedar looked up and behind Reinhold and chuckled, before looking back at him with eyes that glinted green in the dark.

"Mama? Maul papa? Nawwwww... Only fer cuddles!" he said, and chuckled harder. "Muh mamma an' pappa loves one another. Spends all day tugether. Only time em two's aparts in da win'er. Paps caint snuggle up and sleep it offn' likes 'e wish'e could. Tol' me 'isself. Papa gots mama all spoil' rotten ya asks me, but 'ey gets along fine."

He looked up and behind Reinhold again. "Bet 'hey aint as good as mine-- How many squirr'ls up innat tree back 'ere?" he asked cheekily. "Is'll tell ya-- 'eys 5 o' em. One all pokin' 'is lil' beady eyes at us right naow, tryin' ta figger us aout-- odders is all tuck in behain', pokin' out da sides. Up 'ere, in at lil' hole. 'Ere, wachis--"

he plodded past Reinhold, and reached up the tree, and gave the bark a good old fashioned clawing, like his mom had shown him. Breaks off the little bits of long claw, and keeps the dirt out from underneath them. He didn't really need to do it since his claws were cut real short in order to use those gloves, and were already quite clean, but the activity set the squirrels into panic, and they started barking angrily at him, twitching tails and darting heads from their nesting hole in a frenetic display.

He padded back up the Reinhold.

"Naow, shows me what ya lookin' at, huh?"

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

Cedar looked at the tired man named Reinhold, and gave him an amused cant of the head and a friendly huff.

"I don' bite ya know." he chuckled, then waddled up beside him. "Naow, waddya gots goin? They wants us ta spots an eye, er a nose, er what we gots-- onna village, ya? I Clearly miss' out on a bunch when I went fer dinner huh?"

Reinhold just looked at him warily, as if unsure how to even react to being addressed by what was very clearly just a very large, talking bear, despite knowing full well that he is capable of wearing clothes, and bore witness to the spectacle that was the initial meetup at the inn earlier that day. The incongruity of something walking on two feet, and wearing clothes, to something on four feet, and not, had his mind going in strange places.

"Are you some kind of were creature or something?" was about all he could manage to get out.

Cedar just laughed at him. "Naw-- I's jus' me! Pap's a man, and Mam's a bear-- an' theys had me!" He did his best to make a pleasant grin without showing any scary teeth.

"How does that ... Work ... exactly?" The man had a look on his face somewhere between stark disbelief, bewilderment, and terror.

"Wha? How old'r you anyways mister? Your paps ne'er give you The Talk or summat?"

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

Cedar rode in the back of the wagon, not of necessity, but of quiet amusement and silent comfort. (For the most part.)

It had never occurred to these folks that he did not NEED to ride a horse at all to keep up, or even to ask him about it. It had occurred to him that the only person to see him naked and moving about on all fours, really moving about on all fours, (Dame Matilda had gotten a glimpse the day before, at the rendezvous at the old fort tower, but had said or remembered nothing. Maybe she was wanting to keep him fed and rested? She clearly didn't understand bears at this time of year.) Had been Henri, the tutor. That fellow had been chagrined to watch him sentry, investigate, and rig for hostility all around that tower for well over an hour in that condition.

What, did they think he could only run on two feet? That the thick pads on his palms he concealed with gloves, were just ornamentation?

He had hastily inhaled the last of the soup, after he had talked with baker about the matter earlier in the late afternoon. Had convinced the long eared man that he did not want to overwork Nina, when the same work had already been done elsewhere. He had been civil, he remembered, to Nina's relief, if the reactions he caught (from just out of eye shot) were an indication. Regardless, his dinner was still settling, so he was indeed quite content to laze in the bed of the wagon for the time being, though he felt a bit at odds about letting Reinhold do all the tracking in the dark. Full humans couldnt see like he could.

Smell like he could either.

He giggled, dodging a lurch from the wagon, at the double meaning, remembering the farmer's poor dog getting its first whiff of bearman urine hours earlier. 'Bigger and scarier than you thought huh, boy? Not like a man at all, am I right?' He had chortled inwardly then, when it had taken off like a terrified rabbit.

He yawned lazily, then tugged off his gloves. Then his boots.

He really was NOT accustomed to wearing them this long, and they constricted and bit at his extremities, especially the boots: ornaments meant for public exhibition, not for actual use or protection, they only forced his paws into shapes more pleasing for human eyes, rather than affording protection. He wore them for the benefit of others, rather than his own. Well, outside of being accidentally shot anyway, by terrified townsfolk and zealous guards. They, and the robes served a fine purpose for that. Ordinarily, he preferred to be unencumbered and unclothed. Movement through the woods was as sleek and easy as a fish in water that way. It was the way he had spent his early childhood, and was the way his younger siblings were right now, almost certainly-- snuggled up in a pile on the floor of his dad's cabin, with Mama, and his dad buried in the heap someplace. This would have been their last year denning at home; dad would have been working hard to finish their cabins in time for winter.

He was suddenly homesick, and contemplated removing his robes. He felt out of place, out of touch, far from home. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn't that bad yet. It would just prompt his fur to thicken, like always. Bushier, thicker, floofier. Not like the sleekness of spring and summer. He looked down at the sleeves of his robes. The hand woven fabric, made from hand spun thread. Somewhat clumsy stitching down the seams. It, along with the boots and gloves, were not meant for, nor made for long term use. A tool, like a knife, or a walking stick. A thing, a sign to indicate civility to humans, that they would otherwise be blind to. A physical embodiment of the love and protection his father had for him. All hand made by him. He struggled between the urge for physical comfort, to remove them, and the longing for emotional comfort, to keep them on-- as he huddled and tucked up like a big brown ball in the back of the wagon.

Abruptly, the wagon stopped, ending the reverie. Veronica (he was having difficulty with all the names-- another newcomer who's silent, still movements sent instinctual wariness, if not waves of terror down his back, sending the fur bristling whenever she was around. The decidedly nonhuman scent didn't help. He wondered how she managed to ride the horses... Maybe that's why she was in the wagon's front?) had gotten down and performed a far more skilled augury in a cup of water in the moonlight than Vanquis would every be capable of, (It didn't even explode! Not even steam!) As they approached a forlorn and somber fortress town. He could smell the smoke of the chimneys. The animals the people kept. All towns smelled like that. (Even though this one was still some distance off.) Even Hdur, where they just left, and where he had left Jorry, sleeping peacefully on that bed. He had dared not disturb her when he saw her that way. The shopping could come another day.

Now, people would be in beds here too, unwary and unaware of the group of frightening people parked in the edge of the woods in the silver light the moon was shedding, like furtive beasts in the night. He would know; he was one. Well, half anyway.

He overheard her talking with the others, mostly Matilda and the long eared woman, Jazdia, about the prince having been moved, and for the need to split up. He looked down at his robes once more, then decided. He folded them neatly, tucking the removed gloves into the folded parcel of fabric, then placing the large boots on top in the front of the wagon, before tying the seed pouch to his left wrist again, then languidly oozing off the back of the wagon on all fours. He figured being spotted and identified as a civilized creature was not what they really needed right now, since they would need to split up in secret. With his nose to the ground he was a better tracker anyway.

He lazily plodded up to the small knot of conspiring group leaders to let them know he could take the task of finding the path the kidnappers had taken from here along with Reinhold, who was struggling in the dark, while they decided among themselves, giving them a bit of a scare in the process.

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

Despite exuberant cheering and being pressured to eat more, the poor bear was experiencing the strange mix of sensations that frequently accosted him this time of year.

Being physically stuffed to bursting, while remaining ravenously hungry.

Well, at least the mind-altering edge had been taken off.

He had polished off a good 2/3 of the cauldron by himself, but the large quantity of water in the stew had bulked it up. He would have practically sloshed when he walked, causing him to have a rather profound need to find the little bear's room. (Do bears go in the woods? Yes. Yes they do.) Given that he could not physically consume any more, but would certainly be able to finish it in a few hours, he asked if they could move the remainder to the inn, where the rest of the group was holed up.

"better check with them on their end first-- They aren't usually keen on outside food being brought up."

In hindsight, it seemed like a sensible enough objection, given the nature of their business, but on the other...

He looked at the cauldron with a sad expression. He REALLY wanted to eat the rest of it, but was already suffering the effects of fluid overload.

"I'ma go fin' out 'en" he moped.

"You SURE you can't finish it Mr Bear?" chortled the farm-hand that had sold the lot. "Eyes too big for your stomach?"

Cedar rolled his eyes at the comment. "I saids i' woun'na be all at oncet! Dayum! Ain't no ways 'at whole thang gonna fit in muh gut!"

"I dunno, it's pretty close! You got most of it in there!"

The entire crew got a chuckle out of that at his expense.

"Let us know if they say it's OK Mr Bear. We'll hold on to it a bit longer until then."

Cedar thanked them kindly, stood up, and immediately had to lean on his walking stick. The need to find a secluded tree was very pronounced. He waved at the farmers, then started hobbling down the road, before dipping to the side into a densely wooded copse of trees to see to his business. One of the farmer's dogs had followed him in curiosity, but took off terrified the moment it caught wind of what he was discretely letting out back there. Cedar chuckled at the dog, finished his business, then sauntered back onto the road, and toward the inn.

The sun had moved noticeably in the sky, and he guessed it was early afternoon.

Feeling like a new bear, he went through the door.