Fiosa grimaces. "What a horrible thing to inflict on people! I hope this never gets performed again. So...what's the next step?"
Fiosa grimaces. "What a horrible thing to inflict on people! I hope this never gets performed again. So...what's the next step?"
"Break this backdrop down and get it into that crate." At least Millech doesn't hold himself above work. He seems to be as strong as two men and gets as much done as anyone else while directing the show.
****
Meanwhile in the green room, Robahl motions for the porters to set the chest down to one side. He clears his throat, "Tonight was a triumph. Despite an inexperienced cast, made worse by some last minute cast changes, some of whom had a complete and utter lack of training, I have molded a show which will be long remembered in the glorious history of Westcrown theater. I thank each and everyone of you for your help and contribution. Some of you may have long and flourishing career on the boards ahead of you."
"Alas, I think this will be my last major production. The compromises and indignities one suffers to win a contract like this are more than my artistic integrity can bear. And this show will be a fitting pinnacle to my illustrious career."
"But fear not. Westcrown will not be deprived of my vision. Millech and I have been talking about opening a small theater of our own. Returning to the bare essence of the craft, small personal productions for the sake of the craft. I hope some of you will consider auditioning for our first show."
Thesing interjects , "Like my Theater Via Renegado ..." but sensing that the audience doesn't empathize, subsides once more.
Robahl continues, "I feel the newcomers to the cast must have a very special connection to the craft despite their deficiencies in experience and training. How extraordinary to join a project like this without a contract. We act because we must, but we also must eat. Let us look to tonight's rewards."
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Waifrin is chilling, massaging her forehead she indulges the delicacies only frugally.
She listens to Robahl seriously.
"Well, I will say for us, it has been an experience and an honour," she says, and smiles. "I don't know if time will allow us to continue on the stage, but I for one am not opposed to the idea."
Raven chuckles softly. "I am not adverse to the rewards, certainly, and I find the stage a nice enough diversion," the elf remarks to Waifrin in a whisper, "but fame and recognition? Not exactly an advantage considering my... well, line of work is as good a way of putting it as any."
From the chest Robahl distributes 100 gp, the original contract, in red velvet bags to each of the actors and Delour. Then he smiles, "Now the fun part. Some members of the audience littered the stage with "avere teatro".
Robahl draws out a jeweled tiara. "This must go to the queen of the show. " Marius and Raven can both feel their dates pull away a little and straighten up. "My dear you were brilliant and saved the fourth act when it was plunging into mediocrity. This is yours." The tiara goes to Waifrin. Calsienica and Delour settle back against Raven and Marius, respectively.
Robahl successively presents Calseinica with a golden brooch, Delour with a rich fur cape, Raven with an ornately decorated theater mask, Marius with a jeweled dagger, Drovalid with another bag of coins, and Thesing with a broad-brimmed, feathered hat.
Calseinica is thrilled with the brooch. Delour less so with the fur. (Marius knows she has plenty at home already.) Drovalid is thankful for the cash. Thesing is not at all pleased with the hat, and storms from the room.
Since I can't imagine you'll keep this stuff, these are sale prices:
Tiara 650 gp. dagger 350 gp. Mask 500 gp. The mask is a particularly fine specimen. Light thin strong, white base with stained wood inlay to provide the features.
The crew: Finishes work, and gathers round the cask for a last round while Millech hands out the wages, 55 gp each. The crew is happy to receive a 10% bonus; it's almost unheard of. People are saying good-byes, and the three crew coming to close up tomorrow are making arrangements with Millech, when an obviously angry Thesing Umbero Ulvauno slams the door to the green room and strides directly to the exit.
Knowledge (local}:
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As crew, Zarabeta thanks Millech for the coin, and stashes her earnings away, her love of coin outweighing, for the moment, her qualms about how it was earned.
If anyone has questions as to the value of their 'parting gifts,' Zarabeta's keen eye for quality will be brought to bear.
Uqabi, who has spent the entire play perched in a corner rafter, as far from this entire situation as he can manage while still inside the theatre, finally deigns to descent to Zarabeta's arm, his beady black eyes glittering as he turns his head this way and that to get a better look at Calseinica's brooch, which clearly fascinates him.
"Not a bad haul, all in all," Raven quips as he tries the mask on. "What do you think? I am actually thinking of keeping it as a souvenir."
Drovalid shrinks back. Calseinica looks excited. Delour smirks, "Our public."
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Waifrin sees the crowd and straightens up to meet them as she looks out across the cheering faces. She experiences a thrill of power unlike any other she has experienced: the people love her.
Holding her head high, she walks out to the crowd, smiling and greeting people, and exchanging words with many. As she does so, she pauses and stiffens.
Cast and crew party at the Giddy Filly, if anyone is interested.
Fiosa joins the cast party to be polite.
Before that, she turns to Zarabeta and asks her in a low voice: "So, I gather this play is part of a larger plan for the Children, yes?"
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"That was the theory, anyway, hijack the play to subtly introduce our message. We'd almost talked ourselves out of it, honestly..." Zarabeta whispers back. "At the time, the group was strongly weighted towards more overtly moral tasks, and it seemed that foiling the more gruesome plans of the play, which would have likely resulted in quite a few deaths, was enough of a reason for us to intercede. With the backer of that notion having himself pulled out before participating, it feels almost as if we ourselves were the ones who were 'played.'"
Fiosa winces a bit. "Well, even if we don't always have the same plans, we're all on the same team. That's the important thing."
As long as we've slowed a little, let's level up.
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"Marius!" Waifrin comes dashing into the warrior's quarters in the safe house. "Look what I learned to do! I was practicing my acting in the mirror and...well..." She pauses, draws herself up and looks hard at Marius.
Features blur and flow, and in a moment Marius is looking at a duplicate of himself down to the clothes, sans weapons and armour. A moment later, she shifts back to herself.
"It takes some effort," she concedes. "I'll see if I can make other changes. Maybe I can grow scales or claws or something?"
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Marius raises an eyebrow then laughs.."I'm sure you could find a better model than me cousin. I also seem to have improved my skills so perhaps this play was worth doing after all"
"The question now is how do we use our new found fame to our advantage, with Akorian out off the picture we should revise the plans we had.I think we need to get together with the others as soon as we can."
The next morning dawns. Everyone can sleep in except Marius and Waifrin who are up reasonably early to make her appointment in the Plaza of Keys.
The Plaza is moderately busy, but it is still easy to spot a hale white-haired man in sky blue robes sitting at a bench while the crowds move around him.
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At the Plaza, Waifrin gives Marius the odd crystal she wears.
"Take this, I'll be able to communicate with you through it..something else I discovered recently."
Leaving her cousin, Waifrin observes the man for a long moment.
"No time like the present," she mutters to herself, and squares her shoulders to walk up to the elderly gentleman.
"Good morning, sir, a fine day is it not?" she greets him with a smile.
The man rises reaches out for one of Waifrin's hands. "Zintrich Jafmodi. First let me congratulate you on last night's performance. Magnificent. Simply magnificent."
Provided the hand was given to him he folds it in both of his shakes it once and lets it fall.
"I am so glad you agreed to talk. Members of our profession are often so very tight-lipped and unwilling to share their knowledge. I was most impressed and mystified by the spells you cast last night. The effects were completely unknown to me and I could discern no spell components. Are you a natural talent or have you studied some long-hidden text?"
"Zintrich Jafmodi. First let me congratulate you on last night's performance. Magnificent. Simply magnificent."
"Thank you," Waifrin shakes the man's hand and inclines her head politely. "It was my first experience on the stage, at least as an actor. I'm gratified it went so well."
She takes a seat beside the elderly man.
"I am so glad you agreed to talk. Members of our profession are often so very tight-lipped and unwilling to share their knowledge. I was most impressed and mystified by the spells you cast last night. The effects were completely unknown to me and I could discern no spell components. Are you a natural talent or have you studied some long-hidden text?"
"I am a natural talent, so far as I can tell. I've never used incantations or materials, I just feel strongly about something, direct the feeling and...well, the effect happens. At first I could only manage to cast bolts of crude energy; later I learned other things. I don't seem to be able to do much in variety, but what I do, I do well. You yourself are a scholar of the arcane, I take it sir?"
"Yes, I am. Long ago I thought I'd reached the limit of my power and seen all there was to see in the spell-casting line, but watching you last night.... I feel there might be something more I can learn after all. That there might be some hope to further my mastery of the art."
He peers closely at Waifrin. "A natural talent you say? All right, but most of them still produce the same effects as a learned mage like myself. Minor bits may very, but the effects are so similar as to be practically identical to the spells I cast. What you did there was unlike anything I've seen or read about or even heard rumors of."
"Most natural spellcasters, sorcerers to the layman, have a thread of extra-racial power in their background. Fiendish ancestors, a celestial or draconic twist in their blood. Have you any such history?"
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"Most natural spellcasters, sorcerers to the layman, have a thread of extra-racial power in their background. Fiendish ancestors, a celestial or draconic twist in their blood. Have you any such history?"
"I believe there are legends of a celestial in my family's history, but I know little more of it. My father died when I was quite young, but," Waifrin pauses. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thinks to herself. "When I was a child he was training me in some mental exercises and meditations - exercises I use to help control my talents. He was a scholar of ancient Azlant, and had many books and scrolls in that language, I recall. Sadly, they were destroyed or...lost. I have few clues, I fear, to piece together his intention."
"I believe there are legends of a celestial in my family's history, but I know little more of it.
Jafmodi murmurs, "A celestial..."
My father died when I was quite young, but," Waifrin pauses. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thinks to herself. "When I was a child he was training me in some mental exercises and meditations - exercises I use to help control my talents. He was a scholar of ancient Azlant, and had many books and scrolls in that language, I recall. Sadly, they were destroyed or...lost. I have few clues, I fear, to piece together his intention."
The old man looks more excited. "Ancient Azlanti mental exercises? Delightful! Do you remember any of them?"
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Zarabeta spends the day wandering from place to place, attempting to strike up conversation about those 'dreadful shadow beasts,' in hopes of determining areas where they seem more or less common (or more or less brazen, in their depredations), so as to mark good locations for the hunting to come later.
To those who would have no reason to know that she isn't a recent arrival, she'll play up the clueless foreigner, and attempt to steer conversations as necessary to the information she seeks, cutting off some idiots tale of having fought one off, or whatever, with fluttering about 'is nowhere safe from these brutes?' to re-direct the conversation into locations that are more or less infested with the creatures.
So that her fragile self can better avoid the monsters, of course. :>
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"A celestial..."
"Ancient Azlanti mental exercises? Delightful! Do you remember any of them?"
"Yes, yes I do," Waifrin nods. "He had drilled me in them mercilessly until they became habitual. When my abilities...emerged, years later, they were how I controlled and directed them." She glances around. "It would be hard to perform them here without attracting attention, though. If you wish to learn them I would happy to show you - in return, I would be grateful for your insight into the nature of what I am using."
Jasmine Row, a good neighborhood overlooking a warehouse district and favored by merchants.
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"I have no objection," she declares with a smile. Her thoughts return to the mansion where she grew up for a moment. Might some of her father's notes and papers still be there? If so, Jafmodi may be the ideal proxy to obtain them from the current owners, the only viable alternative to raiding the house. He and his colleagues may be able to shed some light on the small house they found in the abandoned section of the city.
"May I ask if you are an order or fraternity?" she adds, eyeing his blue robes thoughtfully.
Knowledge (local):