Baron Yaveserin
Captain Ryul wasn't surprised to see Syndra and his Rangers back so soon, as The Mithril Count was known to be a difficult man. However, he was surprised to see her return happy.
"Good news, ma'am?" Ryul asked as Syndra landed.
"Yes. The Count is firing his cannons at Ammangoan as we speak. They're so much alike." Syndra said, with an impish smile. "Just like his uncle."
"His uncle, your highness?"
"Yes. Prince Tarron of Faenluna, my husband." Syndra answered as she entered the barracks. "Come on Ryul, let's talk about who's next."
"How about me?" A voice inside the Barracks asked. Syndra looked towards the source of the voice and saw an elegantly dressed elf, with finely cropped hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. "Forgive me if I don't stand for you, Princess, but I'm not in any shape to walk." He continued, gesturing at his two canes and his attendant. "I'm the Baron of Yaveserin, and once I heard about the fuss going on down here, I decided to pay a visit myself."
"Baron Yaveserin, it's a pleasure to meet you at last." Syndra replied with a bow. "Your rangers have been most helpful so far."
"Ryul's a useful lad isn't he?" The Baron said, gesturing at the Ranger Captain. "I know that look, you can keep him. So, Princess Valmaris, is there anything further I can do to help you?"
Syndra knew exactly what was going on here. The Baron was here to gain favours in exchange for future positions in her court. It wasn't without merit, she was using his supplies and his men as if they were her own, but what future favours was The Baron expecting? Of course, it dawned on her immediately. She knew from the moment she saw his legs she could fix that without a second thought, it was just a matter of redirecting the flow of mana in his body.
"Baron Yaveserin, how would you like to walk again? Properly?" Syndra asked, steering the subject in the opposite direction.
"A noble gesture, but I'm afraid that's not possible. Every creation mage I've been to on the continent has said my legs can't be fixed." The Baron replied, shaking his head.
"That's because they don't know the old ways, Baron. May I?" Syndra said, gesturing at his legs. He nodded, so she approached, knelt in front of the Baron and placed her hands on his knees. "Yes, I can see it. The flow is twisted, wrong. Casting mages could never fix this."
Syndra slightly twisted her hands, and they melted through the Baron's pants and legs as if they weren't there. If it hurt, the Baron made no comment, but he looked very uncomfortable watching Syndra move her hands around inside his legs. She hummed as she worked, and the falling snow outside briefly blew about in a gust of wind, before, seemingly satisfied, she withdrew her hands and stood back up.
"Go on, try to stand." Syndra said.
The Baron, to his own surprise, was able to stand up with no effort. His balance was perfect! He began to laugh and started to run around the room. He stood on one leg and didn't fall over, he was able to hop, skip, and jump without issue. After a few moments, he settled down a bit and knelt in front of Syndra.
"Princess, I don't know what to say. You've given me my life back. A very shrewd move on your part, no less. How many favours would I have to do for you to consider this repaid?"
"Baron Yaveserin, I'll consider this as payment for all the help your men will give me during the civil war. Of course, there'll be other payments, later." Syndra replied smoothly, knowing it best to not overexert the arrangement. "Now, I really must be moving on, as I have other allies to contact."
"Of course of course! I'll be in touch, just let me know what you need, and you can consider it yours." The Baron said, rising to his feet and bowing once more.