The King's Players RPG

[Galadriel55]

Thiliel thanked Mistress Celebrindal for the coin, curtseyed again, and went off. She could now go to the market to get herself a sweet! Or maybe a new pretty ribbon to tie her hair with. She'd wear it on the festival. Or maybe not. Uncle Ingold was right - I am tired! After all, we've been up and walking with the sun. I should go to my room now, and perhaps have a nap. I'll go to the market tomorrow...

The girl bounded into the common room; even though she was weary she couldn't resist. She slowed down to avoid knocking the tables over and gave a wave to her uncle. He winked at her but continued on with his work. Thiliel looked around her, taking in as much of her surroundings as she could. How comfortble and inviting the inn looked! She aways thought that. Especially when it's filled with people, and they are all enjoying a delicious lunch, or dinner, or whenever they are all gathered here for whatever they want. Lunch time is a wonderful time, she thought, even though lunch had just started, and the inn wasn't yet packed like it would be about half an hour later. No, it's not a lunch - it's a feast! In the highest tower of a castle! And they are all lords and ladies of different lands! And Uncle Ingold is the King! And I'm the royal princess!

Letting her imagination run wild with each lord's story, she picked up her skirt and danced her way to the hallway. She was spinning faster and faster, laughing at her game, when, about ten feet into the hallway, all of a sudden she collided with a girl around her own age.

"I'm terribly sorry!" she apologized sincerely to the girl, helping her to steady herself, even though Thiliel was quite dizzy, "I didn't see you! I was playing that this is a palace, and I'm the princess, and I was dancing and not looking around. I like playing these making-up games! Do you want to play with me? You can be the princess too! We'll both be princesses! Oh, I forgot to introduce myself - I'm Thiliel. The landlord here is my Uncle Ingold. What is your name?"

[Pitchwife]

Entering the common room, Coldan bumped into Aldarion, who, it seemed, was just about to leave.

"Vatch your steps, man!" he exclaimed, more puzzled than irritated; he had assumed that the playwright would be long gone, carrying out the assignment Brinn had given him. "Vat are you doing here anyvay? Shouldn't you be researching in ze city?"

"Watch your own", Aldarion retorted. "Things haven't gone quite as planned here. We've had a surprise visit from the most high and mighty Lord Cirdacil, newly appointed Master of the Revels; Rollan and Amdír are in there, they can tell you all about it, if Brinn hasn't already. If you'll excuse me now, I have work to do."

"Vell, good luck zen! You'll need it if you vant to match vat ve've gathered zis morning." With these encouraging words, he turned away from Aldarion to scan the inside of the common room, which was getting quite crowded with guests for nuncheon; a warm, delicious smell wafted out of the open hatch from the kitchen. He spied Amdír and Rollan, already busy with their meals, and made a beeline for their table, narrowly evading a collision with Ingold, who was darting about the room taking orders.

"If you please, Master Ingold", he said, grabbing the innkeepers sleeve before he could move on, "I'd like a dish of zose yummy oven potatoes you sent to Mistress Celebrindal, and - has ze new vine from Emyn Arnen come in yet? Excellent, I'll hev a flagon of zat to wash 'em down, please, zank you very much." They had only had a light meal with Bergil, and these heady southern wines needed a solid foundation.

Nodding a greeting to his two friends, he dumped himself into a chair and his sheaf of notes on the table in front of Rollan. "So, I gather it's been an eventful morning for all of us. Vat's that I hear about ze new Master of ze Revels? Zinks he can boss us around, does he? And he sent us vat - a minder? A chaperon? A censor, more likely. How dare he!" The idea that some pompous aristocrat presumed to interfere with the Players' artistic freedom outraged him - although, he suddenly found himself thinking, maybe it offered new perspectives. Perhaps he should have a word with this - Sador? Was that the name Brinn had mentioned? - who was going to 'work with Aldarion on the script'; if he could convince the man, this could be his chance to get some of the changes to the dialogue he had always wanted to make implemented.

"Not zat some of us couldn't do viz a chaperon", he went on, his mood a good deal mellowed. "Vere are our two miscreants, by ze vay? Sleeping off zeir hangover, I guess?" He turned to Amdír, a dismal suspicion suddenly flaring up in him. What could Brinn have meant with 'news that perhaps Amdír would rather tell you himself'? "Zey did come back to ze inn with you, didn't zey?"

[Thinlómien]

The new man surely was boring - he just got a room and went in there. Sereth followed him quietly, and found herself thinking about his limping. It was weird he did not lean on any stick. Sereth's first thought was that the man was faking his limp, but then she thought that if you were faking being lame, it would make much more sense to have a stick (basic theatre, Sereth, basic theatre! the lame and the old are recognised just because of the stick!). Proud of her thinking, she followed the man until he went to his room.

There was a soft thump - maybe some baggage falling on the floor - and then another, louder thump, combined with the creaking of the bed. Okay, so he just went to bed. How uninteresting, Sereth thought. She noticed, though, that the man had forgotten his door ajar. Poor him! He needs to get up and limp here to get it closed. It must be very hard for him. So, quickly, she pushed the door closed and retreated.

She was walking back to the direction of the common room when something bumped into her.

"I'm terribly sorry!" the something said in a girl's voice. "I didn't see you! I was playing that this is a palace, and I'm the princess, and I was dancing and not looking around. I like playing these making-up games! Do you want to play with me? You can be the princess too! We'll both be princesses! Oh, I forgot to introduce myself - I'm Thiliel. The landlord here is my Uncle Ingold. What is your name?"

Sereth was left quite speechless. The stranger was a girl of her age or maybe a bit older, dressed in bright-coloured clothes and looking very happy. But - playing making-up games? Princesses? Dancing around?

"I'm Seri," Sereth said after a silence that was a tad too long to be comfortable. "Or Sereth, actually, Seri is just a nickname. I am an actress of The King's Players."

[Galadriel55]

Thiliel's eyes widened. An actress! Thiliel has seen a play just once in her life; she hasn't seen any actors, though. The people on stage were real people, who lived for real, laughed for real, and cried for real. 'Actors' was just a word in Thiliel's world for a very long time. And, how could this confused girl be... an actress?

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Seri! I've never met a real actress before! How do you act? And who are the King's players? Do you mean that you play making-up games for King Elessar?" Think before you open your big mouth! Thiliel scolded herself immediately. That question was too absurd to be true, and it could have offended Sereth. "Please forgive me if my question was impolite, not to say rude," Thiliel tried to correct her mistake. Then a sudden idea came to her mind. "Say - are these your wagons outside in the yard? And do you know Mistress Celebrindal? Is she also an actress?" Thiliel's previous curiosity returned to her in full measure, and was getting quite out of her controll.

[Nerwen]

Asta paused at the doorway into the common room and directed a look black as thunder at Coldan. In her heart she knew it was not the prompter's fault that Mary was a hobbit and not an Elf, but she felt like punishing someone.

Coldan, however, avoided her gaze, pretending to be absorbed in his conversation with Rollan and Amdĺr. She was sure he had seen her, though.

She moved on, down the passageway. This part of the inn being short on windows, it was rather dim here even in the daytime; she might have walked right into Sereth, if the chattering of the girl's companion had not given warning.

Her eyes adjusting, Asta recognised the second girl as Master Ingold's niece, whatever her name was. Asta had already put her down as an overly flighty and excitable tyoe, and now she seemed much more interested in pumping Sereth for theatrical knowledge than in helping out her uncle. But that was Master Ingold's affair; for her part, Asta thought it would do Sereth good to have a friend near her own age. The child had been dreadfully moody lately.

The newcomer's door was closed, and there was no answer to her tentative knock. She did not repeat it. On second thoughts, perhaps it would seem too forward of her, rapping on the door of a strange young man's room. Both the girls had turned to watch her, as it was. No, she would have to wait until such time as Lord Sador condescended to leave his room and mingle with the company.

As she retreated, Asta caught sight of something white, lying there in the dark passageway. She bent to pick it up. It was a scrap of paper.

[Anguirel]

Sador sat up on the broad but lumpy bed as he heard the none-too-distant noise of human collision and childish prattle, alerting him to the fact he'd left his new chamber's door open. At that moment a draught infiltrated too, disordering some of his papers; just as Sador was irritably raising himself up after them, the door clicked shut at last. Probably another breeze.

To his extreme annoyance, Sador couldn't find the note he'd been writing at all. He was a young fellow who thought a lot - perhaps even too much, and while talking to himself sometimes eased the incumbent pressure, he usually found writing to himself rather clearer. But of the latest scribbled instruction he found no sign, and frustrating though it was, he was forced to get another shred of spare parchment out of his pack, ink up his quill, and get it down again.

The original had wafted far beyond the doorframe, an unprepossessing scrap with a list of figures, expenses of some kind perhaps, mostly bedaubing it, but between them a single sentence, written at such speed as to be hardly comprehensible except for two clear capital As at the beginning of spidery names, and another, ordinal number interspersed among the words, Third. Sador had no thought for this lost marginalium and neither, most likely, would anybody else.

He opened the pack's last buckle and sprawled its contents upon his bed. There were no changes of clothes after all, just papers, papers, papers, some of them even full manuscript books without binding. Sador was interested in none of these for the present, and only ceased his rummage when he reached a curved wooden object; one of those very Eriador pipes, popular at court, which so irritated his father. When he'd retrieved a pouch of leaf, also, he filled and lit it. At least his temporary stay in this brutish hole would allow him to indulge the weakness and calm his nerves beyond that stern paternal gaze...

His father had, as was his wont, just made things a little bit harder. After the impetuous dismissal of the loyal company carpenter who would have, Sador suspected, answered to his official employer with some degree of reliability, the rest of the troupe, too, would be bound to feel bad feeling against him, Sador, as Cirdacil's son. Probably Aldarion would be intrigued enough to be reasonable, but the rest? Alas, Sador thought, if he was to be of any use to his father's plans, let alone his own, he would soon have to get up, walk about and be as, well, as damned winning as he could...

Whatever state things were in, for instance, by the next rehearsal, he would be absolutely obliged, he mused grimly, to enjoy it. After the respite of this pipe, he would have to set a smile on his face and energy in his limbs, and force them to stay where they were.

[Formendacil]

He turned to Amdír, a dismal suspicion suddenly flaring up in him. What could Brinn have meant with 'news that perhaps Amdír would rather tell you himself'? "Zey did come back to ze inn with you, didn't zey?"

"No," said Amdír, a bit more curtly than he might otherwise have done. "They did not want to return, and I was more concerned with the setpieces than them."

"Go easy on Amdír," said Rollan, "he's having a rough day. Lord Cirdacil has already given him grief for not keeping a tighter rein on those two, and has fired him for his troubles."

[Thinlómien]

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Seri! I've never met a real actress before! How do you act? And who are the King's players? Do you mean that you play making-up games for King Elessar? Please forgive me if my question was impolite, not to say rude."

Sereth could not help smiling. The older girl's childish manner made her feel relaxed, and she was happy to demonstrate her professional knowledge. However, when she was just about to reply, she noticed Asta who walked past them and knocked on the newcomer's bedroom door. What did she want of him? Had the glances been that serious between them? Feeling slightly disgusted, Sereth was happy to hear the girl called Thiliel continue:

"Say - are these your wagons outside in the yard? And do you know Mistress Celebrindal? Is she also an actress?"

"Yes, they are ours. Mistress Celebrindal is my... friend and she is our director and manager, but does a fair bit of acting and writing too. We are now doing a play on the War of the Ring and yes, the King is coming to see it, if you meant that, and lots of other important people too - like the Lord Samvais of the Periannath! It makes me a little nervous, though - you see I play Frodo of the Nine Fingers."

[Dimturiel]

Harrenon had gone to join Coldan, Rollan and Amdir and was there just in time to hear Rollan’s last words. He frowned. That he had not expected.

“Fired him?” he repeated. “But how? He can’t fire Amdir just like that. And who is he going to replace him with anyway?”

Harrenon stopped abruptly when he saw the other three looking at him strangely. He shook his head and gave a shamefaced smile.

“I’m sorry, Amdir,” he said quickly. “It was tactless of me to ask about a replacement like this. But what happened, really? And isn’t there anything you could do? Isn’t there anything we could do for you?”

[Formendacil]

“I’m sorry, Amdír, it was tactless of me to ask about a replacement like this. But what happened, really? And isn’t there anything you could do? Isn’t there anything we could do for you?”

Amdír privately doubted that Cirdacil would replace him at all. The duties of a Master of Revels to those he was patronising were unclear. Amdír had originally been assigned to assist the Players because Lord Hallas, in his enthusiasm for the arts, had simply asked Brinn was she wanted help with for their run in Minas Anor. Since Brinn had said she wanted some fuller set pieces since they had a full stage in the city, Lord Hallas had given them a carpenter. It was also a bit of shrewd penny-pinching on his part, since it meant that he could now pay part of Amdír's salary out of the royal coffers. Unless Cirdacil also had a household carpenter he wanted to be released of the full burden of employing, Amdír doubted there would be a new carpenter from the Master of Revels.

"I will be fine," said Amdír. "I am not only in the service of the Master of Revels. But if you wish to help me be revenged on Cirdacil of Burlach, I would ask that we make our performance for the King every bit the success Cirdacil clearly wishes against."

[Galadriel55]

"The War of the Ring! Why, Uncle Ingold told me so many stories about it! He fought in the War, and was wounded, and that's why he was released from the army."

Thiliel was amazed. Sereth was playing one of the most important roles in one of her favourite tales ever! She heard it so many a time...

"But... how is that possible? Frodo of the Nine Fingers was a man... Well, a Perian. But you're a girl!" She took on a puzzled expression, trying to figure out how could this bit of common sense could work out.