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After settling up the items from his pack, Jocob the centaur does his best to escort you back to the edge of the Briar, showing some minute curiosity as to why you would rather spend time there rather than the featureless Dearth.
"Such a confusing place, it seems to me. But I wish you the best in your quest." He turns to head back into the dunes, confident in his new position as the prime merchant.
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After several more days of frustrating travel, a wide expanse opens up in the forest ahead. A large rotund building - showing signs of age but still impressive - sits idle in the middle of the clearing. The Sanguine Playhouse" is still visible via aging paint on sheet metal above the several sets of entrance doors.
Daedîn sneaks up and checks the mundane doors. All seems safe, and only a few humanoid tracks to and fro indicate present use, as if visitors still attend rare performances.
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Opening the center door, the sound of joyous music starts instantly.
The red velvet covering nearly every surface of this lobby is threadbare and faded. A cracked mural on the ceiling depicts debauched acts between satyrs and all manner of mortal women. Two sets of double doors to the north lead into a massive chamber, and between them golden bars protect a ticket office. Smaller doors occupy the eastern and western walls.
Pacing frantically along the cornice (10 feet above the ground) is a dapper little creature with an elven upper body, two long antennae protruding from his forehead, and the lower body of a cricket, complete with spindly legs and a pair of gossamer wings. He wears the shoes of a dancer. Floating below his head (just out of his reach) is a giddy little fiddle that floats through the air unassisted, playing itself perfectly. The small creature flits about as if trying to capture it again.
Daedîn
Not-Trixie
Blue Creature <10 feet high>
Psycho Dread
Sihir Aneh
River of Stars
Leosa
Lamont
Not-Trixie would like me to communicate to you that she meant to catch it with your hands so we could give it back to the grig, not destroy it... Vendalfek's mental voice trails off for a moment as if he were receiving another transmission. Oh come on now, you know I can't repeat that. Not in polite company anyway. He shakes his head and winks at the rogue. Such a foul mouth on that one - look at how her face is turning red trying to keep it in. Ah! Keep your dirty little hands away from my neck! The faerie dragon flies up towards the ceiling to escape Not-Trixie's strangling grasp.
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”’Catch’ it, Daedîn - I didn’t say ‘bring it down’ or ‘smash it to pieces’ or add a few more holes to that fiddle’, did I?” Not-Trixie’s face is indeed red, though her anger seems to be mostly pointed towards her companion hovering just out of arm’s reach in a manner very similar to the fiddle in question. ”And even if you don’t trust anyone in this realm, at least trust us!”
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Daedîn quickly snaps off a pair of arrows that split the violin in twain. It slowly falls to the ground and the fey creature zips down to catch it before it crashes, grabbing the neck and body with opposite hands, the silent instrument only connected by limp strings now.
"My apologies. It was out of control again..." The strange creature laments.
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The doors seem fine and can be opened easily. A dull pulsing light fills the room from dozens of stage lights. This bulging auditorium offers an excellent view of the stage from any of its dozens of seats. Dust and cobwebs cling to everything. A half-dozen glassy-eyed bodies lie in the far corner like discarded props.
Two figures stand glowering over them, deep in animated discussion. One is a strikingly handsome Varisian man who insists on speaking solely through a marionette carved to look just like a blonde version of him.
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Not-Trixie's card causes a bluish glow to form around the performers and they separate slightly.
"Can't you see, they expired." The smaller one steps forward to kick at the pile. The man continues to speak through the "dummy", awkwardly turning its finger to point at himself. "This is Balimar. And yes I do believe you could help. The one with the bow hiding around the door... he would make the perfect romantic lead opposite Eliara! We simply must start rehearsing now though. No time to waste!"
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"A simple diamond, in exchange for the show going on? That is a deal that makes itself." The pair takes a few more steps toward you, as they close in, you can spot an inelegant mark upon both of their foreheads.
And no, River does not believe they would part with the Lily so easily.
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River activates his flight hex and floats up slightly, his long black hair floating around his head as if underwater.
"Take another step and we shall be forced to defend ourselves. You are lying. What did you really do to these poor "actors?". Did you murder them?"
While they respond he will fly round and to the bodies to inspect them (assuming this weirdo will allow it!)
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The eidolon mocks astonishment with shaking arms spread as River rises into the air and issues his mandate. He cowers and shields his eyes as the man continues continues to talk through him.
"It was not us who did the actors in. No, it was the diva being her diva self. And it is she who you can demonstrate your puppet to, shadow woman, or whatever talents you might have. Oh, Eliara!"
River can see that the bodies are recently slain, and most display tremendous bite marks as their demise. Two seem to have been turned to stone.
There is a lingering quiet in the theatre as the curtains draw open. Small candles in brass holders illuminate this otherwise unimpressive stage. Bits of wood and canvas scenery suggest springtime, but the painted backdrop shows a city mid-winter.
A beautiful Varisian woman struts to center stage, two creatures hanging contented around her shoulders like ragged, leathery stoles. "You bring me new actors? For their sake I hope they are more talented than the last..."
Well, you know what they say - never look a gift cockatrice in the mouth, or it’ll bite you and turn you into stone. Vendalfek hovers above Not-Trixie’s head, his cheeky telepathic voice touching each of the Pathfinders’ minds.
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"Yes, I suppose it was... but fate has brought you here, so I can only hope you perform better. Come closer, let us see the new cast I have to work with. Sing, dance, act... whatever it is you do well. Don't be afraid, I don't... bite."
She steps to the front of the stage, her visage morphing devious from the angle of the footlights.
The summoner and his wooden eidolon clear the area to make room for your entrance, and they take seats to witness the "audition".
Even the grig in the lobby cracks open the door with anticipation to watch.
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Daedîn turns to Not-Trixie, saying ”Vernon takana on joku tai jotain...”
He then turns back to the stage...knowing he’s not the most charismatic guy, and has no singing, dancing, nor acting skills, the rogue defers, saying, ”I have none of those skills you mention...I’ll just play the part of enraptured audience...”
He keeps a tight grip on his bow...and an eye on the cockatrices as well as what may emerge from the curtain...
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"Huh, I thought the archer could be your leading man, apparently he does not have the fortitude for the stage, madam." A slumped Balimar laughs, his legs outstretched onto the chair-back in front of him.
The lady on the stage groans as Leosa's dance concludes. "Well that was ... something. Is that the best your lot can do, because I'm sure we could get better performances from the stack of also-rans over there. Certainly less rigid!"
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"I believe I have something to offer," Announces a strange little man sauntering on from the other side of the stage - it's Sihir!
"Presenting tonight's special performance," He continues...
"...The Amazing Balimar!!!"
Who, then, should follow Sihir onstage but...the ventriloquist gent currently sitting in the audience?!?
"Say 'hello' to the audience, Balimar!" Sihir theatrically gestures to this second (third?!?) Balimar.
"Hello to the audience, Balimar!" Replies 'Balimar' with a vacuous expression and an exaggerated wave...
...then continues: "You know, Master Sihir, ventriloquism sure is thirsty work; have you anything to drink this evening?"
"I certainly do," Replies 'Sihir', who theatrically flails his arms before a fine bowl of punch appears floating in the air between them ; the absurd conversation continues as they both drink their fill while the other talks.
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The diva struts a few steps admiring the elaborate act. "Well that was at least something. However, not as entertaining as I would have hoped. And comedy is just so broad, don't you think? Not to mention, we already have a ventriloquist act should we need it. No! What I am wanting is PATHOS! So I guess I will just have to deliver it myself!"
Eliara screeches as she pulls the red roses she has been clutching apart in each hand and begins to grow to twice her size. Her legs begin to fuse into that of a snake as her show-birds slither down her side. Luckily, most of you anticipated the sudden turn of events and leap into action.
Strangely, you might notice the dummy in the seats wiggle his arms and mouth a few words as if casting a spell.
Daedîn
Pink Dummy
Psycho Dread
Sihir Aneh
Leosa
Lamont
Purple Snake Woman (Eliara)
Red Ventriloquist
Cyan ??? - behind curtain
Yellow Cockatrice
Not-Trixie
River of Stars <10 feet up>
Blue Grig
Orange Cockatrice
Lavender ??? - behind curtain
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"She's a lamia - try not to let her hit you, or she'll cloud your mind," Not-Trixie warns. With a swift motion, she flings a handful of golden glitter at the diva. "How's this for pizzaz?" she asks mockingly, frustrated at the performer's lack of empathy. Vendalfek, did you find an appropriate card?
Sure! I've got a lamia and a card referencing cockatrices. Do you have a preference?
Alright, alright, no need to yell. Here's a card. Vendalfek proudly plays The Liar on Not-Trixie's head as he hovers in midair above her.
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River briefly considers fleeing from his rather exposed position, but he can't resist the chance to catch them all in a spell
He five-foot flies back and casts Slowing Mud on all of them.