Noticing Caldazar's quiet demeanor, Merax whispers to him. "You have similar suspicions, eh? While I dislike going into a situation with the possibility of being mislead, her goals currently align with ours. At least until we get the artifact. This mayoral dinner could also work to our advantage, it would be good to know who is favored in Westcrown and gather information about them. This information would help in any rebellion, don't you agree?"
Merax pats Caldazar on his shoulder as he gets up to look for a refill of ale. The dinner guests might also include representatives from House Carathage. Perhaps I can exploit that to my advantage.
"I thought they used grapes? Still back wine would have more body."
To Ailyn
"Castor thinks you are playing a deeper game here and we are being set up as arrow fodder to cover something more important. But he is a rat and takes a dim view of us higher sophonts. I will play at play-acting and find what is not."
Do we need any supplies before we go and audition for this play. I do not have what you would call a gentleman's formalwear. All of my job interviews were conducted with my armor and weapon in place should I be called upon to render my services.
Caldazar gives a slight smirk at Merax's words "Aye, she's in for the ends and doesn't mind some blood spilt in the means to it... much like ourselves" smirk giving way to a grin "Let's focus on the steps at our feet and worry about the destination when it gets closer..."
After hammering out a few small details you decide to head down to the limehouse theatre to try and audition for the role. You take some comfort in the hope that most that have attempted this play and failed were despearate actors or amateur adventurers. By noontime you grab a quick bite to eat and travel towards the Limehouse Theatre carrying your various weapons and gear in bags and canvas rolls to keep from catching the Dottari's attention and wait in line. All around you town criers announce the play and its showing at the theatre that Pollux has been helping to build.
The theatre itself is a squat two story building that's quite wide and wedges near the back presumably to make room for the stage proper. The building is old and faded but it seems its popularity has not diminished as a result.
The Limehouse theatre is almost as infamous as it's owner and director Robahl Nonon. It has one of the roughest, rowdiest, adn jaded crew of regulars this side of the empire. They've been known to mock actors on stage, hurl rotten fruit, and in some instances even start impromptu performances right there in the crowd to show "how it's done".
Robahl himself is a former military captain with a history of shouting and a vocabulary larger than some dictionaries. He is firm in his belief that more can be accomplished from his actors if they have no delusions about themselves. Therefore he is blunt, loud, and hammy like a combination Brian Blessed and Simon Cowell. He is a living legend among Chelaxian theatre and rumor has it that if this play goes well he'll be propelled into mythical status. Legend has it that he once screamed at the legendary elven actor, Lobbero for a full hour before he eventually passed out from fatigue while the poor victim could do nothing but stand there dumbfounded.
As you wait your turns to be seen you see a number of hopefuls there as well. Just by looking around you can tell most here have not had the experiences you've had. Some are no talent street performers trying to catch a rising star, even if it means a bloody end, others are farm boy adventurers, or rough cutthroats who've probably never felt real pain, killed a monster, or have any idea what's in store for them.
As the last person in front of you leaves, a thin woman who up until moments ago was filled with a naive confidence about her natural acting talent, sobbing loudly her face wet with fresh tears.
Coming in behind her is an ugly man wiht a look on his face a cross between a scowl and a sad frown. He shakes his head as the woman walks away. He then points a calloused finger at Meraxilar. "Right. You next."
Leaning over to Pollux, Caldazar whispers "Pollux, you know more of this play than myself.... is there aught you could tell that might assist me when it is upon me to be called?"
Meraxilar calmly strides into the audition following the big, ugly man. Merax introduces himself as Xarem Rail when the time comes.
Future Perform Check:
As bloodless enters the theatre he is taken to the stage where he finds himself standing in front of a pair of men sitting in the front row of the audience behind a makeshift desk. One is a squat, round man whose size just qualifies him as being human rather than a dwarf. His mustache is long and bushy and serves to give him the look of a perturbed walrus. The man sitting beside him is a hunchbacked man with meaty looking arms adn calloused hands. He's ugly, to say the least. Both are rifling through papers and making notes as you get on stage. Without looking up the mustached man starts asking questions.
Just answer these in character in your next post.
"What's your experience in acting?"
"What's your experience in adventuring?"
"What's your availability like over the week?"
"What's your education? Can you read and write at least?"
"Have you ever been tortured before?"
"What reasons do you have for wanting to do this play?"
"Are there any immediate family members that need to be informed in case of your death?"
"Are you comfortable enough with the notion of death to continue the performance even should a friend or family member suffer a gruesome fate on stage?"
When each character finishes answering the questions they must make a level check modified by their charisma modifier (essentially a 1d20+CHA+3)
This process will repeat for each character. Regardless of your answers the director will merely shake his head grunt for you to wait outside and shuffle some papers.
knowledge local
"What's your experience in acting?"
Your looking at it, but from what I have heard your looking more for survival than pure acting.
"What's your experience in adventuring?"
Enough to know that you better have good equipment between you and whatever it is your facing. An axe to the head does wonders for staying alive and your foes not.
"What's your availability like over the week?"
If the pay is right then I am available morning or night for this job. I am used to strange hours.
"What's your education? Can you read and write at least?"
Better some but not learned in particular areas of knowledge. As long as you write it clearly enough I can read it.
"Have you ever been tortured before?"
I am married does that count? No I have not been tortured, but I ahve been beaten to within an inch of my life and still survived to this day.
"What reasons do you have for wanting to do this play?"
Bluff check to hide true reasons, not including any bonus for believability I don't want women or fame, what I want is the money a production like this could provide to set me up for comfortable living.
"Are there any immediate family members that need to be informed in case of your death?"
My wife Lily is the only family I have but I am not concerned about the safety of myself. It is the others that are on stage with me that you should concern yourself with and their ability to survive me.
"Are you comfortable enough with the notion of death to continue the performance even should a friend or family member suffer a gruesome fate on stage?"
The show must go on and if that means a tragedy then at least it won't be mine.
level check
"Greetings I am Xarem Rail."
"What's your experience in acting?"
I act every day, even now at this very moment. I act happy when others would say I am incapable of being happy. I act sane when others swear I am never sane. Does that count?
"What's your experience in adventuring?"
That depends on your definition of adventuring. I love bloodletting and have grown to be adept at it. Destruction and mayhem bring me to a better place.
"What's your availability like over the week?"
I'm always available. Unless the Dottari or Hellknights have me on a rack.
"What's your education? Can you read and write at least?"
I am well read and can write, I prefer blood for ink though.
"Have you ever been tortured before?"
Interesting question. I have been on both ends of that activity. Everyone should experience being on the receiving end before administering it. The former gives you a better perspective which can help when performing the latter.
"What reasons do you have for wanting to do this play?"
The trials will challenge me. This is why I am here. I would love the experience of surviving this infamous play.
"Are there any immediate family members that need to be informed in case of your death?"
I had a "Dog" once in my last institution, he's the only family I have left. He is still obedient and brings home gifts. Just two weeks ago he brought me a delicious gift that made me think of my sister. I still don't know what to do with it but I have an idea.... <rambles on...>
"Are you comfortable enough with the notion of death to continue the performance even should a friend or family member suffer a gruesome fate on stage?"
Oooooh, I hope you pick Sclivian Ruttle for the play as well. He is a friend and an experience such as this might help loosen him up. He boasts often that he is immune to the cold touch of death. My other companion Pollux and I are wagering on his endurance. He looks frail but is stronger than an Ogre during mating season.
Check:
Taking a deep breath before ascending to the stage, it is almost as though Caldazar clothes himself in another's skin before he speaks. His grim reflection gone and a more open and gregarious soul emerges. At a request for a name he replies "There are some who call me... Tim. And if it pleases you, then you may choose that name or another."
"I have not yet graced the boards of stage in anger"
Said with a confident smirk upon his face "I have a fair enough grasp as it has been my occupation of choice until this moment."
"If you make the right choice, then I am yours and no-one elses."
"I can read, write, and speak both our tongue and that of the devils."
Sombre tone and face "I have not yet had the pleasure, but I have felt the rough grip of pain and been able to endure."
Slightly flippantly "The rumours that surround it are legion... perhaps I merely wish to live it and see how many of those tales are true."
"There are not. I am alone in this world and would hardly be missed if I did not survive the performance."
Again in a sombre tone "When the die is cast, one must lend oneself entire into the venture. With mind and hand set to task I would not pause or falter."
There are some who call me... Tim.
I have killed better men for less.
As bloodless enters the theatre ...
Without looking up the mustached man starts asking questions.
"What's your experience in acting?"
"None! Everything about me is true and honest and open!"
"What's your experience in adventuring?"
Pollux draws himself up in the manner of a diva. "I work in the Opera, that is adventure enough for anyone. Apart from that I have walked the night streets of this city."
"What's your availability like over the week?"
"Well this is a little sudden but I think I can find a pastor in time...catering might be a problem though."
"What's your education? Can you read and write at least?"
"I was raised as a beloved scion of one of the most noble houses of this great city and recieved an education fitting for my station."
"Have you ever been tortured before?"
"I was raised as a beloved scion of one of the most noble houses of this great city and recieved an education fiting for my station."
"What reasons do you have for wanting to do this play?"
"People tell me that theater is in my blood. I want to check for myself. Besides I heard that the survivors get invited to the Mayors place and I've heard he has some really good cheese."
"Are there any immediate family members that need to be informed in case of your death?"
Pollux's eyes fill with tears. "I am alone in this blood-soaked world, as are we all."
"Are you comfortable enough with the notion of death to continue the performance even should a friend or family member suffer a gruesome fate on stage?"
"That is a foolish question. we are all walking to the same gruesome fate. A few decades difference in getting there is barely worth mentioning."
|
"What's your experience in acting?"
"Well, er... none. But I do manage to keep a straight face when fiends threaten to consume my soul and rupture my body."
"What's your experience in adventuring?"
"I'm a karcist accountant by trade, I'm not really an adventurer."
"What's your availability like over the week?"
"I'm on hiatus right now. My week is free."
"What's your education? Can you read and write at least?"
"I couldn't interpret a contract fairly well without a full education, now, could I? I graduated magna cum laude from the University of Egorian, with degrees in law and otherworldly mathematics."
"Have you ever been tortured before?"
Mr. Ruttle sighs and shakes his head. "Every single day in this city."
"What reasons do you have for wanting to do this play?"
Sclivian pauses. "That's an excellent question. It should galvanize my reputation for being able to deal with the greatest horrors my clients wish to do business with. Then again..." he pulls out a piece of paper, pricks his tongue with his quill, and starts writing, "I do have some talent which might prove useful on stage. I'll demonstrate in a moment."
"Are there any immediate family members that need to be informed in case of your death?"
"No, not really. A few clients might be interested to take note of my passing, so perhaps a note in the paper would be in order."
"Are you comfortable enough with the notion of death to continue the performance even should a friend or family member suffer a gruesome fate on stage?"
Mr. Ruttle chuckles. "Sir, I have witnessed a few unfortunate clients have their very existence rent into utter strife when they failed to follow my advice. As long as they are merely subjected to fates they agree to, then that's just business as usual, I'm sure you agree?"
Signing his name to the paper, he finishes, "And now, to the demonstration." He wads up the signed contract, stuffs it in his mouth, and stands back. With a guttural moan, a quick gout of sulphurous flame issues forth, and a quivering wad of flesh lands at his feet. It grows to the size but not the shape of a man, desperately attempting to overcome its own boiling nature. It sputters and mewls a few seconds before collapsing under its own weight into nothingness.
As he leaves, he adds, "Perhaps you'll find that useful."
Base Popularity: 30
Each of you are ushered out to unimpressed grunts, some open mouthed looks, and the general feeling that you are a rather interesting set of characters.
After a few moments one or two more are allowed in and then kicked back out the efficiency upon which there spirit is destroyed does the cleric of Rovagug proud. Soon afterwards the same tired stage crewmember comes back out. "Right, you five can come back in."
Following the man back on the stage the director looks tired and desheveled the bags under his eyes and the droopyness of his big handlebar mustache show a man whose at the end of his rope. And that rope is on fire. He looks at the group with a sad look of disappointment and desperation. Turning to his hunchbacked companion he remarks.
"Is this really the best we have?"
The hunchbacked man nods slowy. "Afraid so."
The director looks at you frowns deeper and then turns back. "Can we wait another day?"
The hunchbacked man looks through his notes and shakes his head.
"We'd have to delay the production. At this point the costuming alone will take all day."
Robahl blanches. "Delay? Delay!?! But..."
"We could just hire some real actors. No guarantee they'll last past the first act the squeamish bunch that they are."
Robahl sighs. "But they're sadists and madmen! One's a painter for the nightshade whose taken too well to his harsh chemicals! The other's are droll, boring, worthless actors who have the stage presence of sheep's dung without the charismatic aroma!" He looks back at you and shakes his head with a sad resolve. "I truly am caught between devils and flames? Aren't I?"
The hunchbacked man shrugs."Looks like."
Nodding his head Robahl turns to you and speaks to you for the first time since entering. "Congratulations. You're hired. Take comfort in the knowledge that I'm hiring you under duress and strenuous circumstances borne of an overeager tongue and an overdrunk mind. Given another day I'd replace every single one of you with someone more talented, more skilled, or slightly more mentally stable, preferably all three, but as it seems you are the only ones least likely to vomit on stage at the sight of blood or die to a sudden attack of fluffy white kittens you are the most likely candidates for the great Lazarod and his four companions. Good for you.
Castor fidgets nervously in Pollux's coat at the mention of kittens. Obviously the director is unaware of the trials and tribulations of rodents.
"My name is Robahl Nonon. The handsome fellow to my right is Millech. He heads the back portion of the stage. However I..." He stands up an unimpressive gesture considering he's not much taller than the desk and just a beard short of being mistaken for a dwarf. "I am the task master, the military seargeant, your lord, your tyrant, your god. When asked whom you answer to you say it is to me, followed by Asmodeus, followed by your dear old mother. My word is law and I am a most malevolent deity. Are we clear? Excellent! Now that we've gotten my introduction out of the way please enlighten all of us to your own names that we might delight ourselves with the base drudgery your parents saw fit to inflict on you."
Caldazar steps forward first and gives a short bow "Your words are clear as crystal Robahl. My name is Caldazar, and I am yours to order as you see fit." inwardly seething at his obsequience, but believing that Robahl would be one to take umbrage at anything but.
Diplomacy:
Standing with his chest out and fists on his hips, Meraxilar introduces himself with theatrical flair. "Xarem Rail, formerly of the post-plague ridden city of Korvosa, now a proud citizen of Westcrown, the sparkling gem of Cheliax! I am honored to have been selected to partake in these trials with these formidable looking individuals. This will be glorious. As for your ascendancy toward godhood, congratulations! Many have claimed the same volatile title, I look forward to seeing you succeed at your new calling. We all have our trials it would seem."
Merax's friends notice the barely perceptable yet usual hint of malice in his eyes.
The pleasure is mine, sir. Tal Bernard Mainz at your service. Do we start now or on the morning? I am ready at your convenience.
Tal likewise tries to seem civil and cordial with the taskmasters stern tone and quick tongue lashing. Diplomacy
Pollux looks on with wide and innocent eyes.
"There will be kittens?"
Pollux brings his hands up under his chin, fingers interlaced.
"Can we keep them? Please Mr. Nonon sir?"
Castor pokes his head out of Pollux's left sleeve. He stares at our newfound god with steady, red, malevolent eyes.
"We start immediately." Robahl says. "There wil be no kittens in this production Mr...." Robahl is at a loss on what Pollux's name is. "Mister. Though do not doubt that this play will lack in claws."
With that the hunchback gets up from his seat and goes back stage bringing out several buckets of stones and rotten fruit and setting them by the desk and then climbing the ladder into the upper stage while he attaches a separate bucket to a rope.
As Millech goes about his tasks Robahl explains to you what's about to happen.
"My friends you are about to embark on a dangerous journey into the dark waters of theatre. Like a young girl with her first man you are unsure, frightened, and bleeding. But I promise you that by the end of this, live or die, you will have all the fame you could ask for. But first! First we must see what part you must play in all this! I have devised a number of trials of my own you see and these trials are determined to find who will make my stalwart Lazarod, my faithful Tybain, my intelligent and wizened Dentris and my fierce Krona! Shall we begin?"
Robahl hands you a card with a paragraph written on it. "Lazarod is our main protagonist! As such he must be the one who can act best! I fear it'll be like scraping grease from a pan with a biscuit when I desire bacon but we must make due with what we must."
The character must act this line, the first and lengthiest
Larazod knows no lies, great magistrate, and no slanderer’s
tongue caresses my dignity. The accusations you speak are
as true as Asmodeus’s sword. They cleave clean through.
Let the witnesses suffer no more lash. To burn their
innards with pokers and steal their eyes is simply to waste
precious toil better spent in Asmodeus’s service. There is
but one point misaligned in this dark constellation—I
seek not your death, though the secrets you harbor in your
feeble heart deserve a gruesome demise.
I carry no assassin’s blade, nor breath-stealing spell
to rob your mortality. To end you I need only know you,
and to cast you in an honest shade. I pierce your “shadows
of truth” and show you for what I know—a false knave, a
demon-supping wag-tail, a balor’s bawd, a pus-leaking
cataract in the eye of Asmodeus’s justice, and subject to the
multi-handed ministrations of a marilith whore, dretchloving
plunderer, and traitor to our great Dark Lord.
Afterwards make a Perform (Act) check.
"Dentris is Lazarod's oldest friend. A devout worhsiper of the prince of darkness and a powerful wizard Dentris is above all intelligent. Such a thing may be too much to ask of some of you but we will forge ahead."
In this test you attempt to impress Robahl with your knowledge of a particular scholarly subject. Make a knowledge History, Arcana, or Religion check.
"And now we come to Tybain. Tybain is a paladin of Aroden and the comic relief of our play. It should be noted that in these days he is also the target of much malevolence from the audience. HOWEVER! It is absolutely imperative that our Tybain remains in character and performing the play despite the taunts and jabs of the audience. If the rest of you will join me down here. Except you . You stay there."
In this test Tybain reads his first line of the play while making a reflex save (DC 15) failure is to take 2d6 points of bludgeoning damage as the group pelts you with rocks.
"Hurl his arrogance and accusations back at him, Larazod.
He wants precious golden-yoked truth? Give him more
than he can choke down. For whether revealed by the
brilliance of Aroden’s eye, or the long red shadows cast
by your Dark Lord’s fiery gaze, a man false at heart and
shrouded in hollow faiths is nothing more than a traitor to
all. Let him that judges false be judged by wraiths—smote
by his own brand shall he fall."
"Drovalid is our master torturer, interrogator and tormentor given the express task of cutting the truth from the flesh of liars. He has a change of heart after encountering Lazarod and joins his side. At the end of the play he eventually falls for Krona. For this we need a tough Drovalid. One who can fight. Therefore Mellich above has set up a flying monster from which you must defend yourself. Ready? No? UNLEASH THE MONSTER!"
In this test Millech has released his swinging bucket of rocks at you. You must defend yourself! Make an attack roll against it!
"Poor Krona. She s the fierce half orc warrioress that accompanies LAzarod purely out of a desire for him. Lazarod is blind to her affections. She is fierce and scary while erotic and forward." Robahl shudders slightly and licks his lips at the thought. Obviously such a woman appeals to him then he turns to the decidedly all male party and his shoulders sink in disappointment. "Ahem. As such we need a fierce Krona! Come! Do you best to make me fear!"
In this test you must do an intimidate check and attempt to frighten Robahl.
tongue caresses my dignity. The accusations you speak are
as true as Asmodeus’s sword. They cleave clean through.
Let the witnesses suffer no more lash. To burn their
innards with pokers and steal their eyes is simply to waste
precious toil better spent in Asmodeus’s service. There is
but one point misaligned in this dark constellation—I
seek not your death, though the secrets you harbor in your
feeble heart deserve a gruesome demise.
I carry no assassin’s blade, nor breath-stealing spell
to rob your mortality. To end you I need only know you,
and to cast you in an honest shade. I pierce your “shadows
of truth” and show you for what I know—a false knave, a
demon-supping wag-tail, a balor’s bawd, a pus-leaking
cataract in the eye of Asmodeus’s justice, and subject to the
multi-handed ministrations of a marilith whore, dretchloving
plunderer, and traitor to our great Dark Lord. And with the final word does Tal pause for the words to seep in. act
He wants precious golden-yoked truth? Give him more
than he can choke down. For whether revealed by the
brilliance of Aroden’s eye, or the long red shadows cast
by your Dark Lord’s fiery gaze, a man false at heart and
shrouded in hollow faiths is nothing more than a traitor to
all. Let him that judges false be judged by wraiths—smote
by his own brand shall he fall.
Tal would normally just stand behind his shield and let the shield cover him completely and thus prevent any such damage, but for the sake of dodging the rocks... reflex
With that Tal takes his seat to watch the others perform and test their own mettle against the 'crafty' bucket and his rocks. As Sclivian goes up, Tal will turn to Cal and Meraxilar and whisper, Bet you a silver that he runs from the bucket.
As an aside to Tal "I'll not throw good money away, he'd likely lecture the bucket out of hitting him" Caldazar strides to the stage - outwardly confident but inwardly less so...
as true as Asmodeus’s sword. They cleave clean through. Let the witnesses suffer no more lash. To burn their innards with pokers and steal their eyes is simply to waste precious toil better spent in Asmodeus’s service. There is but one point misaligned in this dark constellation—I seek not your death, though the secrets you harbor in your feeble heart deserve a gruesome demise. I carry no assassin’s blade, nor breath-stealing spell to rob your mortality. To end you I need only know you, and to cast you in an honest shade. I pierce your “shadows of truth” and show you for what I know—a false knave, a demon-supping wag-tail, a balor’s bawd, a pus-leaking cataract in the eye of Asmodeus’s justice, and subject to the multi-handed ministrations of a marilith whore, dretchloving plunderer, and traitor to our great Dark Lord."
Speaking the line as bidden Caldazar does a manful job of hiding his disgust at the words while still lending them weight and purpose.
Perform (Act):
Knowledge (Religion):
Reflex:
Bucket Attack: for
Intimidate:
tongue caresses my dignity. The accusations you speak are
as true as Asmodeus’s sword. They cleave clean through.
Let the witnesses suffer no more lash. To burn their
innards with pokers and steal their eyes is simply to waste
precious toil better spent in Asmodeus’s service. There is
but one point misaligned in this dark constellation—I
seek not your death, though the secrets you harbor in your
feeble heart deserve a gruesome demise.
I carry no assassin’s blade, nor breath-stealing spell
to rob your mortality. To end you I need only know you,
and to cast you in an honest shade. I pierce your “shadows
of truth” and show you for what I know—a false knave, a
demon-supping wag-tail, a balor’s bawd, a pus-leaking
cataract in the eye of Asmodeus’s justice, and subject to the
multi-handed ministrations of a marilith whore, dretchloving
plunderer, and traitor to our great Dark Lord." Merax moves ever closer as he speaks his lines ending almost face to face with the director in his dramatization. Perform (Larazod):
He wants precious golden-yoked truth? Give him more
than he can choke down. For whether revealed by the
brilliance of Aroden’s eye, or the long red shadows cast
by your Dark Lord’s fiery gaze, a man false at heart and
shrouded in hollow faiths is nothing more than a traitor to
all. Let him that judges false be judged by wraiths—smote
by his own brand shall he fall." Reflex save:
Attack:
Intimidate:
|
|
Mr. Ruttle recites the line with aplomb. Clearly, he is used to reciting many things, and has quite a good mind for speaking the lines with rote. And yet, the speaking is not that of a performer, but of a lawyer. The pentameter is ruined, but the information is quite readily conveyed.
"Well, I'm quite thankful to have this opportunity to inform you ahead of time that as a licensed and bonded karcist accountant, attacks upon my person, mind, and soul while executing my role are forbidden by subclause 948(b) of the Accountancy Non-Involvement Act of 4662. Therefore, I must request that we not include such attacks in these acts.
"But you want to know about something more interesting than legal matters, and so let me tell you about karcism. We are all governed, and the rules and regulations that make up our lives define who we are, and what we must do. Yet rules are merely agreements between parties defining how behavior is dictated. They are, in essence, contracts between men, or in the case of Cheliax, devils and men. The actions that can be carried out are determined via the overlapping jurisdictions of contracts. For example, when I wave my hand, and this... er... rotten tomato rises, it is in the interplay of sympathetic motion overruling the general gravitational jurisdiction. Through understanding the nature of the contracts that make up our daily lives, we can manipulate their effects to enforce the physical world to conform to our interpretations. Such is the way with law, and such is the way with magic."
"And now then..."
Mr. Ruttle clears his throat, pulls out his pince-nez, and reads the next set of lines.
"Hurl his arrogance and accusations back at him, Larazod.
He wants precious golden-yoked truth? Give him--Gah!!!
I'm not through with my line yet! This is precisely the sort of thing subclause 948(b) covers! What is this rodomontade?"
Barely registering that the next phase of the tests has continued, Sclivian keeps up his shrill tirade. "Just you wait until you deal with the labyrinthine morass of red tape I'll unleash for that! You, your entire family, this whole benighted theater... will be turned over for puppets! What's that thing? Hyaahh!!!"
In a crazed fury, Sclivian reflexively sends out his staff to strike at the oncoming bucket. He hits it squarely, sending the contents flying.
He does not slow down one bit. "As I was saying before I keep getting assaulted by cretins and their offal, puppets! I happen to know one Mr. Slarexothenes, who would find your souls most amusing, and let you spend your afterlives strung up, and playing Punch and Judy again and again for eternity! Apologize now and I might demonstrate clemency!"
.
"Larazod knows no dignity, great slanderer, and no magistrate’s
tongue caresses my lies. The accusations you speak are
as true as Asmodeus’s codpeice. They cleave clean through.
Let the lash suffer no more witleses. To burn Asmodeus’s innards with pokers and steal his eyes is simply to waste
precious toil better spent in their service. There is
but one point yet misaligned in this dark constellation—I
seek not your death, the feeble secrets you harbor
deserve a gruesome heart.
I carry no assassin’s blade, nor breath-stealing spell
to rob your mortality. To end you I need only know you,
and to cast you in an honest shade. I pierce your “shadows
of truth” and show you for what I know—a false knave, a
imp-supping wag-tail, a belier’s bawd, an eye in the pus-leaking cataract of Asmodeus’s justice, and subject to the
gentle ministrations of a gylou whore, beard-loving, bone-loving
plunderer, and traitor to our great Dank Lord."
.
"Hurl his golden-toked youth back at him, Larazod.
He wants precious accusations? Give him more
than he can choke down. For whether revealed by the
brilliance of Aroden’s dye, or the long red shadows cast
by your Dark Lord’s fiery glaze, a man false at heart and
shrouded in yellow faiths is nothing more than a traitor to arrogance. Let false judges be judged by wraiths—smote
by his own beard shall he fall."
"Well it is rather frightening...."
As Robahl goes through his notes he announces what each of you will be playing.
Krona: Caldazar
Drovalid: Tal
Dentris: Sclivian
Tybain: Meraxilar
Larazod: Pollux
Current Popularity: 42
Robahl grits his teeth through various performance flops, missed attacks and buckets to the face.
"Excellent. We have now determined the exact use for all of you. On that note Mr. Ruttle I have met Mr. Slarexothenes and he is quite a charmin fellow once you get past the fact he is covered in flesh eating maggots. If we are lucky I can manage to drag the tiny dead husk of meat you call talent out of you and breathe some form of life into it. If not, well at least something is likely to bleed in an entertaining way but I will not get my hopes up. Now let us meet the rest of the cast before we get into costuming."
With each of you being given your parts congratulations and bandaids are passed around. Millech mutters soemthing about "gathering the army" and wanders backstage.
Robahl leads you backstage where the detritus of a thousand different performances awaits you. Masks and sets from a thousand different plays froma thousand different eras lie about. Robahl takes you to a small corner through narrow corridors while you duck under hanging marrionettes to a room marked "The Visbaronetess".
With a tentative knock on the door the director calls through it. "Delour? Delour are you well?"
The door opens to a massive alabaster skinned woman with more in common with a river barge than a human being. Her expensive fur scarf wraps around her thick neck while expensive makeup just barely manages to cover the passage of years. Her outfit is completely outrageous and a brief calculation estimates that the large amount of jewelry she wears easily costs more than the entire sum of your home, your equipment, and your teeth.
When she speaks it is with the arrogance and haughtiness of a decadent noble. "Yes, Robahl? I am quite well save for the constant interruption of my private hour. What is it this time? I heard an animal die out there. You know I won't perform even in practice in such disgusting conditions!"
Robahl laughs. "Nothing so droll as that my dear Delour. I've come to introduce you to our newest cast members." Robahl steps back and with an expansive wave that does little to convey the true expansiveness of the woman's ego or bra size he presents her."Newest cast members this is Visbaronetess Delour Aulamaxa."
Without even sparing a glance she outstretches her bejewled hand with a sigh and says "Charmed."
To say the least this woman is immensely famous in the Chelaxian theatre. She has beena heavenly and talented voice for decades and has played in hundreds of venues in hundreds of plays across the face of Golarion. However rumor has it that her time may be growing short as the years, and younger starlets, catch up to her brilliance.
Recently she's been having a very public and very unbecoming spat with one Calseinica after a lucky break gave her the part that she was meant to play. The break, was of course several of her ribs and a snapped leg. Delour swears the woman set it up. However since the announcing of the play she has made an effort to patch up any troubles and apologize for the misunderstanding.
Pollux bows before the Diva, Castor's tail flashing above the collar of the yellow coat as he moves to a new vantagepoint.
"It will be an honor to make our acting and bleeding debut alongside such an immence, talent. I am sure that Calseinica must be chewing her own leg off with envy."
Knowledge local:
Diplomacy/Bluff:
Well we have been asked to play the part of actors to get invited to the mayor's house. May as well make the most of it and not get everyone pissed off before we even start practice. Here we go I guess. By Gorum I hope I don't have to lift her during any part of the stage. I may quit now. There was talk about torture, that may be it. Taking the outstretched hand and with a bow, My dear wonderful Delour, it is such an honor to finally meet the acclaimed and highly talented actress herself. I must say that I am thrilled to be able to work along side one of the best in the business. If there is anything I can do for you please let me know. My name is Tal Mainz.
With that tal releases the hand and stands back up. Those that know Tal can't be certain if he is sincere or not. However if he is not, then his acting has improved already.
Knowledge (Local):
Meraxilar almost chuckles as Pollux makes the "immense" talent statement and waits for his turn to introduce himself. "Lady Aulamaxa, it is an honor to meet you, I am Xarem Rail. I never expected to be working with such a well known talent, I am both privileged and humbled. If I may reveal a secret, the actor playing Krona often told me that he lusted after you for years from seeing one of your old performances, now I see why he remains your biggest fan."
Merax gently takes her hand and gives her a slight bow. He then abruptly turns to Caldazar with a smile. "Caldazar, you were right. She is as enchanting as you said she would be if we ever met her face to face. Lady Aulamaxa, may I present to you, your biggest, fawning fan... Caldazar!"
Caldazar follows Robahl into the depths of the theater to their introduction to Delour. He is reserved yet cordial, giving her hand a light kiss of deference and proferring a deep bow. "I am Caldazar" However his inward thoughts are mired deep in the role that he must play moving forwards...
Delour's eye twitches ever so slightly at the mention of Calseinica but she maintains her professional divaness even in the face of Pollux's polluxness. "Yes, she will be a suitable costar. This will be the part I feel that will make her career. And I'm sure you feel honored and all that kind of thing. Was there anything else?"
Pollux smiles. "It is big of you, to your great credit, to take that attitude. There was talk, put about by some quite knowledgeable and talented people, that the fair Calsenica has more than a hand in your recent ... indisposition. It shows great heart that you ignore all that and allow her to share your stage. Perhaps even to eclipse you, not that I think for a moment that is possible."
"But forgive me I tresspass where angles fear.. I am sure the good director would like to threaten us some more so I will wish you well. Or rather say break a leg, that is the correct vernacular is it not?"
Pollux reaches into a pocket and removes a small hard half eaten apple and takes a large bite.
Yes Larazod, we must not tarry here and take more of her time than we must. Take care my dear and we shall see more of each other soon I am sure. Tal then tries to escort Pollux out before he makes any more large mistakes or comments infront of someone 2 or 3 times his size.
A wry smile formed in Caldazar's mind though he did not allow it to translate onto his lips. Clearly the next few weeks were going to be interesting to say the least... he just wondered what other egos would be needing stroking and plumping during the process.....
A bow was proffered to Delour and a genuine farewell also before Caldazar assisted in the herding of Pollux and Castor.
As Caldazar and Robahl take Pollux by both arms Robahl is red though it's difficult to tell whether he's stifling rage or hysterical laughter. Guiding the man away Delour herself is turning from a pale color to something resembling an apple. She quietly closes the door and bursts into a song so loud as to drown out her own potentially volatile anger.
As Robahl finally composes himself he clears his throat. "Well, while I am sure you have been star struck but the absolute immensityImean..power of her fame I do request that you do your best not to anger her. She did not come cheaply, and only after fulfilling a simple demand. In any case I should introduce you to Haanderthan now."
Going to another room some distance down the hall the door is already part way open. Inside a man is looking at himself in the mirror looking incredibly dashing as Robahl clear his throat. As the man turns Caldazar, Pollux, Meraxilar, and Sclivian recognize him instantly. It's none other than Thesing. The man whom Caldazar had manhandled and Pollux forced into an impromptu performance. His eyes narrow and Robahl, not noticing begins introducing you.
"Thesing, I'd like to introduce you to your new cosatars for next weeks production I am sure that....are you alright man?"
As Thesing stares at you his face contorts into a face of demonic hate. He opens his mouth and one word flies from the tenors mouth like a bat made of pure acidic hatred. "You"
Tal looks onward somewhat confused and worried. Who is this man that holds such hatred for this group. What has happened in the past that ilicits such a response. Clearly there is a past here but Tal lis trying to stay out of it for the time being. As hard as it is for a Gorumite to act meek, Tal tries so now and remains silent waiting for the tirade to be unleashed.
sense motive
attempt to move back without being noticed ?stealth?
Caldazar remembers the incident where they last met Thesing with some trepidation, but does not let it show. Stepping forward quickly so as to at least get a cogent word out before Pollux displays his grand eloquence once more, Caldazar is wary "Thesing, we meet again - I trust that you remember my words from last time we met?" stepping forward and out of Robahl's line of view to extend a hand in greeting. Caldazar's eyes grow cold and hard... attemping to remind Thesing of the blood and that he does not want his own spilt today.
Intimidate:
"Surely you are mistaken, Robahl. This man is a stablehand, we've met him before." Merax points to Thesing accusingly.
Pollux turns to Merax. "A stablehand by day my red rain cloud of joyh, but an opera impressario by night!"
Pollux spinns his eyes to settle on Thesing. "That was a wonderful performance sir. The children really loved it as did the young men and women, all the adults and all the old men. The old ladies thought someone was skinning a cat but they were both disembowled by a tiefling street gang with ties to the Council of Thieves three days later so they don't matter any more, but I am sure they died happy knowing that they got to hear you skinning a live cat."
"I will be playing the lead in this play but rest assured that I will make sure that all my supporting players will get the attention that their roles, though of lesser importance, deserve."