The King's Players RPG

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Therian watched the rehearsal progress. He would not be needed until the Players got as far as the Misty Mountains, when he would don a cloak, be an orc, and die. Until then, he would serve a different purpose.

Sereth shot him an ugly look and Therian was reminded yet again that he was unwelcome in the company. Pity, because the girl was quite lovely, and in a few short years when she was marriageable, he had thought she might make a good match. Feisty, she was. She had seen the world, and knew of its troubles, and was still charming. Of course she wanted to spend her life as a director or some such, but she would grow out of that once it was time to get married and have children. All headstrong women did, after all. But she was young, so there was plenty of time for her to realize the error of her ways.

"Brinn," Therian said, "we've run into a bit of a problem."

"Yes, I've heard. The King is coming, and Samwise is not an idiot, and everything is going wrong."

"Yes..." He hesitated, "but what I was thinking was actually that there may be two characters named Mary. You see, Master Samwise told us that there is a hobbit named Mary, and the description did not sound much at all like our Mary. So it seems as though Merry the hobbit came along as far as Bree, where Mary the Elf lass joined them, and then Mary the Elf never made it as far as the final battle, which is why there was confusion about there being more than one..."

Brinn buried her face in her hands.

"Or there might just be one Merry and he is a he, and he is also only a couple feet tall, and he may or may not own the parts of the Shire that Samwise and Prince Peregrin do not? It was all pretty confusing, especially with Branor talking all about how our dinner companion was not really alive..."

[the phantom]

As Aldarion stood beside the stage dressed as King Butterbur, he heard Therian inform Brinn that there was possibly a huge problem with the "Mary the Elf" character. Unable to contain himself any longer, Aldarion stepped onto the stage right into the middle of Amdir, Coldan, and Sereth, who had been acting out an early scene from the Shire.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Aldarion insisted, not looking at anyone in particular. The actors froze and looked at Aldarion, perhaps wondering what they had done wrong. The players not featured in the scene looked up at Aldarion as well. He took a deep breath and spoke. "Should we really be rehearsing? Because from what I gather, we have one character in this thing that shouldn't be, we kill a character that should live and have more lines, our primary character is all wrong, and the actor that plays him is drunk!!"

A couple players slowly opened their mouths only to close them again. After a few seconds of silence, Aldarion spoke once more. "If these reports are true, then we essentially have a brand new production on our hands, and the sooner we get things sorted out the better. Personally I would prefer to perform some other tale- "The Fall of Smaug" or "The Halfling & The Trolls", or of course "The Children of Hurin" which I feel is our best to trot out for royalty. But really, any tale would suffice, so long as it is one that does not feature prominent members of our audience!"

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Therian leaned on the wagon. "Yes, well, that is wonderful and all, but it will not work."

Aldarion glared at him. "Why?"

"Master Samwise mentioned his daughter, who is a handmaiden to Queen Arwen, is coming and is especially excited to see the parts about her dear old pa."

[the phantom]

Aldarion threw up his hands in frustration. "Just perfect! Well then, if that is the case.... it seems we are stuck up a tree without an eagle."

[Mnemosyne]

"We still don't know everything!" said Brinn. "Even if Samwise and his family and the King himself are coming, they're coming to be entertained, not to be given a dry recitation of what they already know. I'd rather not do anything until we receive official notice of their attendance. Then, and only then, we'll work together on fixing things. In the meantime, it will be well for us to run through everything as it stands now, so, at the very least, we can figure out what will need to be changed and what will remain. Everyone, and I mean everyone, if you're not on-stage and something contradicts what you were directly told by this Samwise, you'll make a note of it and we'll investigate it tomorrow. We've learned things quickly before; surely it can't be too difficult to change the script around where it needs to be. Please," she said, gesturing to the players on-stage, "continue."

[Nerwen]

"Besides," said Asta fiercely, "I am most definitely not going to play a halfling!" She had not realised until this moment just how much the rôle of the Elf-maid meant to her. While she played various walk-on parts– she was now, for example, draped in a sheet as a Ringwraith– her only other speaking rôle was the much-less glamourous Gollum the She-orc.

"Not that I believe any of you are sober enough to remember what this Samwise person said– if you ever met him in the first place– and I refuse– refuse, do you hear me– to have our play butchered on the word of a gang of fool actors who are clearly to drunk to stand up straight!" The glare with which she finished also took in Amdír, whom she held responsible for the entire mess, and Aldarion.

"And no, Aldarion, we can't put on anything else– there isn't time, and none of the trolls are in working order, and the bear costume got moth-eaten so we can't do the battle scene in "Smaug". And as for "Children of Húrin"– look, you must know it won't do. I mean, really!"

It was not that she did not appreciate the playwright's attentions, but the part he had written her as his love-interest in that dismal epic crossed the line from flattering to downright disturbing. He claimed it was all historical fact, but Asta had her doubts.

"Now," she drew a fold of cloth across her face, "if we could manage to get on with the rehearsal? Sereth, I think it's your line."

[Pitchwife]

Hastily, Coldan put on Sam the servant's costume and a pair of furry socks that were supposed to look like hobbit feet while striving to digest what Harrenon had told him about their encounter with the mysterious Lord Samwise, who had quite inconveniently turned out to be not only Frodo the Ringbearer's esquire himself, but moreover neither dead nor the halfwit they had been going to present him as. Just like Aldarion to make a mess of his history! Who knew what else might be wrong with the script?

Nevertheless, it was high time for them to start rehearsing at last, so he stepped onto the stage together with Sereth and Amdír, and they began with the first scene, in which Frodo told his fellow-halflings Sam and Peregrin about the Ring and their quest to destroy the Dark Lord. Coldan had little to do in this scene except to nod in the right places, utter a few stupid interjections and cheer Captain Frodo, Lord of the Ring in the end, so he allowed his attention to stray just enough to overhear Therian saying to Brinn:

"Or there might just be one Merry and he is a he, and he is also only a couple feet tall, and he may or may not own the parts of the Shire that Samwise and Prince Peregrin do not? It was all pretty confusing, especially with Branor talking all about how our dinner companion was not really alive..."

What was that? Could it really be that Mary the heroic elf-maiden was in fact another halfling, and a male to boot? Thoughts started racing like mad in his brain, one precipitating the other like the gears of a clockwork, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out: "Zen - zen she - I mean he - vasn't in love viz Boromir at all?"

Luckily - for one look at Asta's irate face told him she was less than amused by this turn of things - his words were drowned in the following heated discussion between Aldarion and Brinn, the playwright advocating some thorough revision of the play while Brinn adamantly insisted on going on with the rehearsal.

"Besides," Asta protested, "I am most definitely not going to play a halfling!"

Of course, he thought, wincing with dismay. How silly to assume for a moment that she would take the threat to see her one showpiece role abolished, or changed into another furry-footed midget, lying down. He hid his blush behind a corner of his cloak, pretending to rub at the smudge of ink on his nose, and muttered to himself: "A nice pickle ve hev landed ourselves in!"

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Therian elbowed Branor.

"What?!" said Branor.

"Shh," said Therian. "Over here."

As Brinn continued discussing assignments, the two slipped away to the back side of one of their wagons.

"We're supposed to find out about the halflings, right?" said Therian.

"Yes."

"And people are extra chatty when they aren't sober, right?"

Branor looked mildly concerned, as though perhaps this was an accusation.

Therian continued. "And people usually haven't been drinking first thing in the morning when Brinn wants us to go talk to them, right?"

Branor's eyes lit with understanding.

"So I think," Therian finished, "That instead of waiting for morning to go find out about hobbits, we should go find a nice bar full of talkative folk."

"Now?" asked Branor.

"Yes. Now. Let the rest wait until morning."

[Boromir88]

Branor caught on to Therian's plan and he was feeling irked about Brinn not letting him investigate the King. Elessar was his character, his responsibility, he would have to try to talk to Coldan and Harrenon to make sure they knew what to investigate.

"I must ask, what would the great Detective Elessar do in this situation?"

Therian knew exactly what to say to get Branor to agree. "He surely would not rest until he had completed a full and proper investigation. And the best stories come from adventurers in the taverns, when they are nice and...talkative."

"How right you are!" Branor was begining to think Therian was not as hopeless as he always thought since Therian joined the troupe. "I'm in!"

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Therian woke with the rough edge of a cobble stone digging into his hip. His head was on Branor's shoulder in the most undignified of ways. The two of them were crammed into the space between two decorative archways. It was chilly; he could tell by his breath coming from him in bursts of white.

"Bran, Bran, get up."

Branor woke up with a moan. "What?"

They were in some corner of the city, and Therian could not remember how they had ended up there. He smelled fresh bread, which meant it was morning, and besides that, it was getting light.

"Get up, you fool, Brinn is going to kill us."

Some motion caught Therian's vision off to the side somewhere. A boy, perhaps?

"Where are we?" Bran grumbled.

"Olog... chased us... but then I don't remember..."

They hauled themselves to their feet and stumbled toward an intersection, following the smell of bread. A large sign pointed their way, emblazoned with the words, "Lamedon Square Market: This Way!"

[Pitchwife]

The baker was just about to answer Coldan's question when a young boy came running at the top of his speed, stopped himself abruptly right in front of them, waving his arms for balance, and shouted: "Mistress Fea - Mistress Fea - there's two men over there - they've been fighting - and someone's going to kill them!"

The woman turned to him and took him gently by the shoulders. "Easy, boy, easy", she said in a voice that managed to sound sober and comforting at the same time. "One thing at a time. Where are they? Did you see them fight? Was somebody threatening them?"

"Over there, ma'am, near Saucepan Alley", the boy panted, pointing into the direction he had come from. "They were alone, but one of them has a black eye, and he said to the other one: 'Brinn is going to kill us'."

"Vat?" and "What?", Coldan and Harrenon cried out simultaneously, staring at each other in alarm. When Coldan's eyes followed the boy's pointing finger, he saw two all too familiar figures emerging from an alleyway into the market square, making for the bakery with a stiff gait that looked like they had spent the night lying on hard ground.

"Merciful Valar!" he groaned. "Can't zose two be trusted to stay out of trouble for a few hours at least?"

[Thinlómien]

First Asta had dashed in and screamed a list of insults which were unusually mean even for her, and now Coldan and Brinn were still acting as if nothing had happened. This much was what Sereth was able to gather even though she was sobbing very hard by now. Amidst all her suffering she still couldn't help feeling some satisfaction Brinn and Coldan were treating Asta just as stupidly as her.

"Seri, who told you this?" Brinn asked, wrapping her arm around the girl. "Who said that the play was going to be cancelled?"

Sereth wiped her face to her sleeve. She looked at Brinn with a mixed look of incomprehension and accusation. "This is a trick question, isn't it? You said it yourself, I heard you. You said to Coldan 'the show is over'."

[Mnemosyne]

"Seri," said Brinn, "I said until the show is over, not just 'the show is over.' Why, if it were over now, we should be packing up and going, shouldn't we? Everything's still going as according to plan as could be expected"--given our tendency to bungle even the simplest plans--"and, if anything, Miss Elanor Gamgee has been an unexpected boon to us in all of this as now we have received a visit from one of the people we need most to reach. She has proven most willing to help out with the play, as can be seen from this." She held up a few scattered pages of notes. "Not only does she know what happened, she knows the people who did these very things, how they would act, and the like. In fact, Seri, she's quite interested in speaking with you about the Ring-bearer; she's quite... taken with him.

"Asta, please desist from wringing anyone's neck, here or elsewhere. I assure you that I sensed no evil intentions from Elanor, and even if she is scheming and conniving, we already have enough schemers to deal with who are a little more open with their intentions. I suggest we focus on them first." She blinked. Maybe that was not such a good thing to tell Asta.

"Who, Sador?" said Asta. "I found this most fascinating note last night--"

Unsure whether it was worse to have Asta give them all away to Sador, whatever he was up to (if anything!), or to have her in a dreadful state of paranoia all the way up to the show, Brinn decided on the response that would allow herself temporary safety."Anyone. I'd appreciate whatever information you could give me, in fact."

Rollan, from behind, nervously jerked his hand underneath his neck, in the traditional cutoff from their days in Dale when that particular year's Bard the Bowman had thought it a good idea to drink a yard of ale before coming on stage. Brinn gave him an exasperated shrug.

"But, just so everyone is utterly clear, the show is not cancelled, and we have not been run out of town, and Elanor has not, as of yet, proved herself to be evil. Any questions?"

[Galadriel55]

Thiliel almost jumped with joy when Celebrindal clarified that the play is still going on. She was also glad to hear that Elanor was helping; she was a very nice and polite maiden, - woman, Thiliel corrected herself, - and it would be a hard blow to Thiliel if she found out that she befriended and helped someone who caused so much damage.

The girl was very confused, but at least one thing was clear: the play is still happening. Unable to contain her emotions, she clapped her hands and jumpedon the spot. Thiliel noticed that the quite crowded adults did not appreciate this behaviour, and stopped.

"Hurray! The play is not cancelled!" She said in explanation to the questioning looks the actors gave her.