City of Nine Stars -- City of Twilight (Inactive)

Game Master therealthom

Nonon drives relentlessly during the dress rehearsals, but uses biting sarcasm and verbal abuse less and less. The Visbaronetess monopolizes as much of Marius' time as possible. Calseinica seems content to pal around with Raven. Thesing fumes. Millech soldiers on imperturbably.

Morning dawns bright and clear on the day of the performance. Nonon has set call at mid-morning for the early afternoon show. The inside of the theater is cool and dark.

Marius how attentive were you to her?

"Well," Raven remarks looking up at the sky before entering the theater, a hint of nervousness coloring his otherwise carefree tone, "the time is nigh, as they say. And what a wonderful day we are having. No rain, no wind, no unpleasantness which could make people think twice about getting out of their homes and coming to see our fine fine show."

"How fortunate are we," he adds in the end, nervousness giving way to a little sarcasm. Still, his usual smile is right there on his face, bright golden eyes taking in the inside of the theater, stage and seats and all.

"Well, it could be worse," Waifrin looks around the theatre. "I think we are as ready as we will ever be, anyway, though I wish Akorian was here."

"I'll wait backstage in case you need any help. Good luck, you guys! Or am I supposed to say break a leg?"

Marius:

One by one the footlights come on. Robahl Nonon stands centerstage holding a bottle and a skull. "Welcome to the Nightshade Theater, our Lord Mayor's latest gift to a discerning and grateful populace. This afternoon we will give Westcrown a performance to talk about for years to come! We'll be feted, crowned with laurels, and showered with gold. Come in."

"Welcome to the Nightshade Theater, our Lord Mayor's latest gift to a discerning and grateful populace. This afternoon we will give Westcrown a performance to talk about for years to come! We'll be feted, crowned with laurels, and showered with gold. Come in."

"I'll settle for leaving intact and unharmed," Waifrin mutters as she gets into costume.

Zarabeta laughs softly at Waifrin's comment, and whispers back. "Showered with gold, now? Is he actually choosing this late hour to pretend that his 'actors' are intended to survive, let alone get paid?"

In the shadows behind the director, Millech and the rest of the stagecrew clatter and hammer through setting up.

Nonon welcomes everyone in. "Dressing rooms are downstairs. The lefthand passage. Once everyone's here we'll run through the play on stage. There's a lot more room here. This afternoon we must be larger than life."

There is indeed a lot of room. The Nightshade is certainly not the Limehouse where rehearsals were held. The stage is nearly three times as large. The chairs wide, and comfortably padded in velvet. A large gold gas-fired crystal chandelier hangs above the audience. Backstage and the wings are extensive. You could get lost. Downstairs the actors have individual dressing rooms. While they don't have the gilt carvings and faux jewels that adorn the auditorium and main lobby, they are clean and dry. (Often a problem in Westcrown basements.) And there are bouquets of flowers and small trays of crystallized honey in each dressing room.

Backstage Millech grumbles to the crew and Zarabeta. "The stage is bigger than they told us. We're going to need to build a new section for the backdrop to cover it. Getting it to match is going to be like milking a dragon." The crew is already sawing, planing and hammering.

DM

"Well..it looks as if we have our work cut out here doesn't it" Marius comments ruefully.

He looks somewhat tired.If questioned about it he mutters something about older women having more stamina than he thought

Fiosa volunteers to help with any sewing that might be required (curtains, etc.).

Millech looks at Fiosa. "Curtains, eh. You're right. We could extend the curtain lines in the wings and we'd need less lumber. It'd be faster too with two crews working. We're kind of in each others' way now."

He tosses her a small purse and points at two crewmemebers. "Take those two and get some fabric. It'll be best if you don't try to match the existing curtain color, but get something that looks good with it and the color of the judges bar."

Marius and the Visbaronetess roll in late. (But still with hours to spare before the performance.) Marius is decked out in silks and is sporting a new blade hung from a broad red leather baldric. She leaves him at

Marius:

"Well..it looks as if we have our work cut out here doesn't it"

"Work, oh noble lord?" Waifrin teases, "you should not sully your hands with such, good sir - call upon your hordes of servants, good lord!" she laughs cheerfully and returns to memorising lines and preparing for our 'hijack' of the play later. When Fios returns with cloth she happily assists with the sewing.

Craft (seamstress): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

If possible Waifrin will wear what protection she can with her costume. Hopefully her costume will BE her leathers, but you can never tell ...

Once you're all costumed Nonon calls the company together. He's had a table set up on the stage. Fruit, fluffy bread, and honeyed jasmine tea. Nonon's still in a good mood. "Eat up. This is my special recipe. It won't fill you up and the tea will keep your voices sweet. Come and eat. Then we run through the play."

Meanwhile the crew soldiers on with sewing and carpentry.

Delore sits next to Marius and slips her hand trough the crook of his arm. Marius or listen DC 16

Calseinica sits beside Raven. She's humming and tapping her foot nervously, but digs in.

Zarabeta busies herself adding color to items (or reducing the color of items that are so garish as to appear fake or off-putting), or making tiny alterations to outfits with prestidigitation, primarily keeping herself too busy to fret about weightier matters.

She picks at the bread and only sips her tea, not wishing to have to suffer bladder complaints in the middle of the performance, or the potential embarassing consequences of eating too much fruit before having to sit quietly before an attentive audience...

Raven, his usual smile present, seems to be enjoying himself. The elf seems to have quite a healthy appetite, at least for one of his race, as he makes sure to try everything on the table, appearing particularly fond of the tea. If there is any nervousness concerning the upcoming show, he hides it rather well, if nothing else.

Fiosa races out to buy the necessary stuffs with the money given and hurries back to assist with any work on the new backdrops.

Marius snorts at Waifs feeble attempts to get a rise out off him strips off his nice new expensive jacket and weapon belt and lays to with some ropes.(I knew profession Sailor would come in useful at some point)

Fiosa and Zarabeta:

The crew grins and cheers Marius as he lends a hand. Nonon looks annoyed. "Stop that. You don't want to wear yourself out before the performance. It will take every iota of strength, skill, and craft that you possess. Come and refresh yourself here with us."

I'm guessing that's what laying to with ropes meant. I suppose you might have meant self-flagellation.

The auditorium and backstage lights have been turned down so that the cast at table are framed and held in the stage lights. It creates an intimacy like a small room would.

Suddenly a door at the back of the auditorium opens and sends a long shaft of light across the seats to rival the light on stage. A tall spare figure is silhouetted in the doorway and begins to walk down the aisle toward the stage. Closer you see a gaunt, nearly skeletal man a full head taller than Marius. He's garbed in red and black; a gold pentagram hangs from a gold collar about his neck. He mounts the stairs to the stage and looks sternly at the party.

To Fiosa

At first happy to eat, Waifrin melts into the shadows on seeing the figure, taking several deep breaths to master her emotions before letting herself be seen again. Her appetite is gone, and she has other concerns.

"AHHhh! Preceptor Sevaska!" Robahl turns on the charm for the newcomer. He takes the preceptor's elbow and eases him toward the table. "Please, come meet the cast." The director introduces each of you and the other cast members. Sevaska's close-cropped hair is grey, but the clarity and smoothness of his skin indicates his age is a few years less than Robahl's. He smiles through the introductions. He and Nonon chat briefly. His smile widens when Nonon assures him that the crate he's expecting is waiting backstage.

Sevaska says, "I'm so excited. I hope the performance goes we --- . That you all break your legs." The Azmodean is nearly humming as he moves backstage to find his crate.

Nonon watches him go and shrugs. "I didn't like him at first, but he has fallen in love with the theater. I think he would pay Arvanxi for the privledge of assisting us tonight rather than the other way around. I'm sure he will surpass himself."

Arvanxi must be Mayor Arvanxi. Sevaska is a high ranking member of Azmodeus' temple in Westcrown.

Know (local) DC 10 (+2 for theater buffs): [spoiler] Arvanxi made a large donation to the temple to get the Nightshade Theater dedicated and to get their help with theperformance.

Waifrin looks slightly startled at the Asmodean's almost friendly attitude, and when his back is turned her eyes narrow with suspicion.

GM, Zarabeta:

Fiosa, Zara:

Sevaska trundles up behind the two women. "There it is, my crate. Are you ladies part of the crew? Would you be so good as to unbox this?

Although phrased pleasantly, Sevaska's tone is more of an order. The crate stands about 15 feet tall, and is of solid construction. Millech lends to stagehands to help you.

The crate contains a wonder of the glassblower's art, a huge and curious sculpture of green glass banded and held by iron and polished wood. The sculpture is a vast serpent. Its mouth is large enough for a man to slip inside. Its belly is made of transparent but very thick glass.

The corners of the crate hold eight amphorae labeled acid.

"Pour that into the serpent's belly. Be careful not to spill any. Then dilute it four times with water."

Sevaska spins on his heel and marches away.

Marius comes to eat but the appearance of the Preceptor spoils his appitite also.His fists clench slightly and his eyes narrow on a spot just between the man's kidneys.However he gives no voice to his displeasure and returns his attention to the food when the cleric leaves.

Raven seems unfazed by the Asmodean's arrival, finishing his cup of tea with the pleasant smile on his face seemingly undisturbed. The elf, however, pays close attention to the man as if sizing him up just in case he faces him as an enemy in the future, be it distant or otherwise.

"ACID!? What kind of play is this, anyways?" Fiosa can barely believe her ears.

"Zarabeta, I'm not sure what the overall plan is, but would it be harmed if we diluted this acid even further, or replaced it with something else?" she asks in a low voice.

Lowering her voice, now that the devil-lover is in the area, Zarabeta whispers to Fiosa, "The Six Trials of Larazod is the story of a man who undergoes six tortorous trials to prove his innocence before a corrupt Asmodean magistrate. They are grisly and terrible, and some level of versimilitude is traditional, with 'actors' in past performances having been literally killed as part of the performance. We are attempting to avoid that sort of nonsense, but there will be blood and pain, as part of the spectacle, which, as much as possible, will be faked with illusion or acting. Still, if you have healing gifts, you may find them in high demand. One of the earlier actors fainted after nearly dying during a 'trial' in rehearsal involving rot grubs..."

Assuming Fiosa has a disbelieving stare at that last, Zarabeta just nods, confirming that this situation is an insane as it sounds.

how many create water spells can Fiosa cast into the snake before the curtain goes up????

Fiosa looks very leery about the prospect of a potentially deadly play. "Bless us all! I'll follow your lead, Miss, but I'm not sure this is going to end well. Not at all. So how strong do you want the acid?"

"Let's see how potent it is at the mixture that the Asmodean suggested. I can dip a finger in it to check, and if it seems too potent, we can dilute it then." Zarabeta replies. "Marius will likely be one of the persons immersed in this solution, so I don't want it strong enough to cause any lasting harm to his delicate features."

Zarabeta's tone and expression do not change as she says this, which may make her attempt at humor fall flat, or seem paradoxically funnier...

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

"Ha ha?" Fiosa nervously replies. "Well, let's start pouring, I guess..."

"There's some justification for our participating in this degeneracy, but the only one that matters to me is that the play was going to happen regardless of our presence, and if not us, who have special skills that will help us escape lasting harm, then some other poor slobs would likely be tortured to death for the amusement of the mob." Zarabeta says, as they work.

"I have no fondness for the 'lesser of two evils' logic, but, in this case, we may be able to save lives, by taking on these roles."

"This is for that 'belly of the beast trial'," Waifrin mutters. "Yes, we need to dilute it more - I have no intention of swimming in acid! We're going to have enough problems as it is."

One of the two stagehands speaks up. "There's several water barrels behind the theater that were delivered this morning. I think we're supposed to use those."

They stand ready to help.

On stage at the table -- Robahl Nonon announces, "Let's start the run-through. This is out only chance to adjust to this stage."

"Okay, let's fill it up."

Fiosa starts with half the specified amount of acid to begin with and starts diluting it.

Waifrin nods to Fiosa, confident that she can handle it, and heads over to do the run-through. She schools her mind using her mental exercises, ready to memorise every detail.

Zarabeta assists Fiosa in their task, pondering the very real performance to follow this last rehearsal.

She whispers to Fiosa as they work, "It occurs to me that once the actors begin changing their lines, that Robahl may call for an intermission and attempt to stop us from hijacking his play. We should have some means of preventing that, even if it's merely to spice up his drink and leave him too wine-addled to intervene..."

"I know a little bit of charming magic, but that could be very risky if it doesn't work. Maybe a more mundane distraction like getting him drunk would be a safer bet."

"I'm not an expert on enchantments, but getting him drunk should make him even more susceptible to such magics, neh?"

Are there rules in Core for drunkenness? I've seen them in certain items or spells, like Drunkard's Breath or Pick Your Poison...

Fios laughs. "If you don't know, I'm sure I don't know! It couldn't hurt, I'm sure."

"Very well," Raven agrees with Robahl. "No time like the present, yes?" The elf's slight nervousness as the time of the actual play approaches becomes a little more apparent, despite his attempt to hide it behind his usual nonchalance and smile. Regardless, the rogue does as the director suggests and moves to follow Waifrin in doing the run-through.

Nothing in Core about drunkeness but the GMG has this to say in the chapter on Drugs and addiction

Just like drugs, alcohol can be abused and have significant negative effects. In general, a character can consume a number of alcoholic beverages equal to 1 plus double his Constitution modifier before being sickened for 1 hour equal to the number of drinks above this maximum.
Particularly exotic or strong forms of alcohol might be treated as normal drugs. Those who regularly abuse alcohol might eventually develop a moderate addiction. (GMG pp236-237)

The run-through goes smoothly enough. Robahl works mostly on blocking, "With such a large stage you must spread out a little more, move downstage, and become bigger. You must still dominate the stage, not be dwarfed by it." Sevaska stands in the wings and watches. The crew, including Millech, Fiosa, and Zarabeta, finish up the set modifications and filling the glass serpent.

The house lights go up. The curtain closes. Robahl gathers the entire company together one last time for a pep talk. Sevaska seats himself on a little platform among the catwalks above the stage. Drovalid disappears into his dressing room to complete his costume. The crew resets for the first act.

Last chance to pick your costume and gear. Raven -- as Larazod, a prisoner of the court, you start the play clad only in rags.

As I said, Waifrin will go for something she can either wear her armour beneath or else that comprises in part at least of her protection. She will work studiously on her placement to allow for good positioning.

As long as it covers no more than the average chainmail bikini or something similarly sexy, Robahl is good with it. He brought you on board to show a little leg. Maybe if you just put some revealing slashes in the leather?

Alcohol may have minor wisdom reducing effects, but not on the same scale as some of the magic effects Wellard describes. At least not in the quantities you'll be able to get Robahl to drink during the show. I will allow that your dialogue changes won't be too provocative until the 4th act (belly of the beast)or so when Robahl leaves the wing to prepare for his own role.

Marius shines his breatplate to within an inch of being blinding..He wears over that a surcoat with the symbol of Aroden..though he is not altogether unaware of the irony of a member of a dead house pretending to worship a dead god.

He strips down to breeches and boots and does a few limbering up exercises before he puts on his armour then he feels ready to face the crowds.

After the fight with the goblins, it probably has more than enough slashes in it ... but Waifrin will put her skills to good use:
Craft (seamstress): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Fiosa stands next to Robahl and tries to make the players look good.

"Ooh, I'm sure it'll be a wonderful show! See how marvelous they all look! And the rehearsals went off so well. I'm sure everything will go off without a hitch."