The King's Players RPG

[Galadriel55]

Thiliel was sorry that Sereth had to leave. She was a nice girl. But she needs to practice, Thiliel reminded herself, Frodo of the Nine Fingers is a big role, after all! I must not distract her too much while she stays. Or Frodo will by mistake burn Minas Anor instead of Barad-dur!

Thiliel giggled to herself. She walked aimlessly down the hall and back. Making a decision, she ran over to the stairs and climbed to the second floor. Her room was the last one in the hall. Its windors faced the back; it was the smallest room in the inn, but it was hardly ever occupied by anyone except for Thiliel.

Despite the bright sunshine and high noon, she felt very sleepy. She walked in, closing the door behind her. She pulled off her dress and climbed under the thin blanket. She yawned. Soon her eyes closed, and her breathing became level.

[Pitchwife]

Coldan stared at Asta, hardly believing he had heard right. He felt all blood drain from his face, and it took him all the restraint he could muster not to slap her.

"Is zis vat you zink of me?" His fist were clenched so hard his fingernails bit into his palms, but for all the storm raging inside him, his voice was cold as a blade. "Count yourself lucky zat I am not so. An Easterling vould beat you up and maybe rape you on the spot for such an insult." He shook his head with a bitter laugh. "How dare I! Yes indeed! How dare I speak to you like a man viz feelings zat can be hurt, not just some pet to be humoured, scorned or neglected at your vim!" All of a sudden a huge, grey hole gaped where his heart had been. "But as you vish. If I'm not good enough for you, flirt viz your pure-blooded Númenórean all you vant. I'm zrough viz you."

He threw the script down before her feet and strode off, only turning back to toss over his shoulder: "Find someone else to rehearse viz. You can ask Therian, he should know ze lines. Or, vell, you know who."

[the phantom]

The light was failing, cut off by the mass of Mindolluin. Aldarion walked briskly through the final gate into the first circle and turned towards the inn, anxious to report his progress to Brinn.

Aldarion had opened up entirely to Lord Borondir, telling him of the plight of the players, and he had been invited to return before noon the following day. Borondir would have gladly told all he could remember of the War of the Ring that very day, but he suggested and Aldarion had agreed that it would be better to give Borondir time to find some of his old journals and letters to refresh his memory. No doubt Borondir was reviewing notes even now.

And after his appointment with Borondir there was still his afternoon dinner with Bregolas and his family, where Aldarion hoped to discover yet more information. "Brinn ought to be thrilled when I report this to her," thought Aldarion. "It is possible that tomorrow will put us well on our way to curing our illness of information."

But Aldarion was looking forward to tomorrow night even more than the day, and the reason why- well, Aldarion was keeping that to himself for the time being.

[Mnemosyne]

Brinn thought over the mass of changes that Harrenon, Branor, and Therian had brought her--and the recasting decision she'd made, on the second. It only made sense, really--Therian was wasted on his current role, and it had been sheer stubbornness (and frustration at his woeful attitude towards women) that had kept him in it quite as long. And this meant Asta would be less hurt (she hoped) at the loss of Mary, who quite clearly now would have to go, and...

She stopped herself before making any further plans. It was clear she still had only half the story, and she needed all of it before they decided what to do next. It was so awful, being pent up like this!...

Rollan would tell her that, at this rate, it was a good thing that Amdir had not yet made her crutches. But Brinn chafed so much in her seat that it was tempting to disregard even those. She couldn't begrudge Amdir for taking the day off, though.

Just when she was about to consider trying to stand on one foot, Rollan came in the cart. "I made a deal that I think you'd be quite proud of," he said.

"Oh?"

"Talked the innkeeper into giving us a cheap rate on ale, as long as we can make sure no one drinks anywhere else. Should help keep talk down, I hope."

Brinn smiled widely and pulled him down for a kiss. "You're a marvel," she said. "How is everyone else?"

"Amdir's taking it well enough. Coldan wanted love advice--for our dear Asta--and I did what I could. You've seen the rest, I think?"

Brinn nodded. "He's finally speaking up then, is he? Well, that would certainly explain why he was so eager to secure her that part..."

"She could do worse than him, that's for sure."

Brinn nodded. "Yes, but will she see it that way? Asta's never been very forthcoming on her affections, I hope... Well, I hope nothing drastic happens. Nothing ruins a performance so much as when its actors fight. Unless they're particularly good actors, which..." Honestly, Brinn didn't know if any of them were good enough to hide that sort of thing on the stage. "Remind me again why we left Dale?"

"Well, as I recall, there was a dragon involved..."

[Anguirel]

Sador had spent the afternoon still kept to himself, although he remained with part of his concentration attentive to the frenetic movements of the various Players past and around his room. At one point he had heard a tentative knock, and half risen to his feet, before listening to someone retreating far too quickly for him to arrest their departure. Almost certainly then, whoever in this company had come to talk was as nervous about him as he was cautious about their band, conceivably more so. He had shrugged and settled back down to his desk, though sometimes he let himself be entertained by the goings-on of the young Player-maid and Ingold's barely older relative. Perhaps that had been it after all; not a matter of trepidation, but a childish prank.

He mulled them over singly, doubly, as an ensemble, what he thought he had detected so far. Celebrindal - Brinn, as he had already overheard enough to gather she was really called - with her oddly impressive mien, added to rather than reduced by her present injury. An effect, he thought wryly, unlike that of his own. Rollan, the coarse comedian whose geniality Sador suspected could hide a streak of temper and bad nature. Well, they would see about that.

Asta, Brinn's sister and lieutenant, and the child, presumably the company's main Player-Perian, she had gripped onto so hard and corrected so sharply; Sador saw them as amusingly similar specimens, a similarity unbeknownst, probably, to each other; and he had caught the same essential look from both, wary, hostile, as regarded his twisted leg a little repulsed, and when it came to his superior standing and his intentions towards them, prepared for the worst. Amdir, that intelligent and steady pair of hands whom his father had forced into opposition to gratify a whim...

And then at last he thought of Aldarion; that fair-featured, raven-haired apogee of the elegant stage figure, whose light, easy courtesy seemed to demonstrate a mercurial but vigilant intelligence. He would repay inspection; he would get that inspection. For Aldarion seemed to lead a pleasant life; no doubt many would like to inhabit it. As he laid down yet another of his strange, ever-blotted and reworked screeds of manuscript, stuffed it into the secrecy of his satchel, and dragged himself up out of the room to mix among the others at last, Sador wondered if even he yearned sincerely after the player-scribbler's destiny.

He tried not to attend to the increasingly uncomfortable answer to that question. The light was dying now; time to prove the tongue - despite his regrets and doubts - yet mightier than the pen...

[the phantom]

As Aldarion approached the player's set up in the courtyard he heard the voices of Brinn and Rollan within the largest of the carts. Just as Aldarion reached the cart, Rollan emerged. Aldarion hailed him immediately.

"Before you go, you may want to hear my report to Brinn," said Aldarion. "I lined up what could prove to be some extremely informative appointments tomorrow." Rollan nodded and motioned for Aldarion to step inside.

Aldarion briefly detailed his encounter with Bregolas's family and Lord Borondir, making it clear to Brinn how likely it was that Bregolas could help fill in some details, and how extremely helpful Borondir could be with not only the story, but perhaps in other ways as well given his influence.

[Anguirel]

Barely had the word 'influence' escaped Aldarion's mouth when young Sador of Burlach hobbled up through the courtyard and attached himself to the party by the cart, where Rollan was just seeing Alarion out of the tent after his report. He nodded pleasantly to Rollan and to the playwright.

"Good evening, gentles. I have managed to make myself very snug indeed in this fine house, and now I am ready for a little business, if that would be congenial to any of you. Master Rollan, I hope that Brinn's leg is a little improved? She must remember there is always my own leech to call upon, should any worsening occur; but surely by now the sinews must be knitting again, I should think..."

It would appear that Sador, not unnaturally given the various inconveniences of his existence, added medicine to his other interests. But he seemed to have finished his meditation on that subject, turning now, instead, to Aldarion with a particularly contented light in his eyes.

"And now, Master Aldarion, what think you of your script? I would be very interested to have a look at it; business, as I have said, before pleasure...", and he tapped the leather bag of papers at his own side.

"But if its state of preparation is still too dubious, then perhaps we could go over some of these historical questions that are troubling you together? I have read the official accounts, and perhaps they will be of at least some use in the corroboration of your company's story. Besides, sir, we have more familiar matters to talk of, and friends in common, whether during our work or afterwards, over one of these excellently priced beverages of our honoured host..."

Now he half turned back to Rollan, and his next smile encompassed both men.

"Only, of course, if I am not interrupting anything..."