The King's Players RPG

[Mnemosyne]

Brinn stumped over to her bed and sat down heavily, grabbed the pillow, started dabbing at her eyes. No one to look in on her, but she would not look weak. She couldn't remember fighting with her husband this hard; he always took her side, always understood, always backed her up...

And oh, how she needed it! Even at the best of times, the King's Players were not exactly the picture of harmony; worse than most families, they bickered. She had to keep them together, but here, now, they were unraveling in her hands--three of them vanished, at least two barely restrained from upsetting the man who might happen to be their worst enemy, and now even Rollan turning against her...

All she'd wanted was to make this work, to see the smiles, tears, gasps of the audience. When did that become so difficult a task?

Since we set foot in this fool City, she thought. And now everything was going upside down and everyone in the Players but her was making it worse... And she restrained, chafing at her sprained foot, able to accomplish more than anyone else...

She blinked, more tears slipping from her eyes. When had she become so selfish?

Rollan had tried to tell her.

Rollan was right. When had she become so attached to the play, to putting it on with no thought to the Players who acted in it?

Elanor. She shook her head--she knew that the hobbit hadn't meant any harm, but she had been so charming, so eager to see the play...

She'd gotten into Brinn's heart. And wasn't that what the old tales about Halflings said? How they could smile, wink, leave a friendly word, and suddenly you found yourself falling over your feet to help them? She thought back to the start of the tale, the real start, with four weak, utterly stupid hobbits setting off on their own, and somehow magically attracting all these folk who were suddenly willing to help them, not just for the peril of their task but because they were so vulnerable and still so endearing?

...at least, they looked vulnerable. Actually could defend themselves in a pinch, obviously, but you wouldn't think it, looking at them, so you had to help them. And they probably didn't even realize they were doing it.

And there were three of them at the court, and one of them had managed to work her way into Brinn's heart in the space of two hours, and now she'd lost her sister and her fool husband, because she'd gotten so caught up in the play that she couldn't even listen...

It wasn't fair, she thought, but she cut it off.

No. No blaming things on anyone else, especially not a hobbit who didn't even realize what she was doing. This was her problem, her fault.

Brinn curled into a ball, and wept alone.

[Mnemosyne]

Rollan walked up to bar and ordered the strongest drink they had, ignoring the stares and the mutters. He didn't feel like apologizing for what he'd said--not yet--but he'd be lucky at this point if Brinn let him back in at all, and losing someone like that hurt.

Besides, she had a point--several, really. Asta looked about ready to burn the entire inn down, and this when their numbers were already so reduced, and, quite honestly, she was the only person with the patience and the will to keep them all together. More than any other member, the Players needed Brinn, and he'd just made her job that much harder, and on top of that, told her that she cared more about the play than any of them...

He stared at his empty glass. They'd tried for children for years, ever since they'd married, but none had ever come. He wanted a family with Brinn, but she ached for it, and the Players had had to become in spirit what they couldn't have in body.

Rollan the Fool, he thought. He was too good at playing the part if this was what he did off the stage.

Well. Nothing to be done for it now. Looking around for a familiar face, he saw Ingold's--daughter? niece?--wandering amidst the tables, a little less cheery than he'd been. He waved her over and slipped her a coin.

"I'm sorry, Miss--" Dash it all, Brinn was the one who remembered everyone's name, not him!

"Thiliel, sir."

"Thiliel, but if you could bring my wife some supper at the proper time I'd much appreciate it. As much as you can be spared her other duties, just--don't press her or anything, but let me know how she's doing. I expect I'll be here late tonight."

[Dimturiel]

Thiliel was gone now and Harrenon was very thankful that Asta’s suggestion of tying her up had been disregarded. Otherwise they would have most likely found themselves in a dungeon soon and all the commotion with their silly play would have been the least of their worries. It was strange, Harrenon mused, how Asta could see danger lurking everywhere but sometimes did not seem to anticipate the consequences of her own actions. Now that he thought better of it, the prospect of joining a rescue mission with the two did not seem too attractive.

He was glad that Coldan had told Thiliel to find a way to explain their absence for now – his and Asta’s, that was. If anyone was to look for Harrenon that evening, then he would be the one in hot water since he would not have a plausible explanation for not being around. But, after all, he had the habit of being inconspicuous until there was need of him and Harrenon doubted very much that anyone would have any need of him that evening. He turned to the two others and looked at them questioningly:

“Well, now that the girl’s gone, what do we do? How do we plan this rescue? I think I should tell you, though, that we should be careful. I’ve spent the morning with Sador, after all. He’s…well, he's a romantic fool, but I have to hand it to him: he does not seem to lack imagination. Such people are not easy to deal with.”

[Pitchwife]

Harrenon's question caught Coldan somewhat unawares, as he hadn't yet given much thought to planning the mission in detail. He wasn't perturbed for long, though. Asta's kiss, fleeting as it had been, had given his self-confidence a huge boost and filled him with a gush of inspiration he had rarely felt poring over The Fall of King Bladorthin. He had not the slightest doubt in their ability to pull this off.

"Doesn't lack imagination, does he? Vell, neither do ve. Ve're ze King's Players, by Aule's hammer! I bet ve can still teach zat lordling a zing or two about imagination. -

Zis is vat ve'll do." He began to tick off the steps of the plan by the fingers of his right hand. "First we follow ze trail of ze carriage by asking people in ze city about it. Ven ve arrive at its destination, ve reconnoitre ze place - stealthily, to be sure - and try to find out vere Aldarion is being held. If ve can't discover zat from ze outside, ve sneak in - ve'll hev to do zat eventually anyway. Once ve hev found him, ve free him - ve'll need suitable tools, of course, in case he's locked up - and leave viz him as quickly and quietly as we can."

Harrenon didn't seem convinced. "Sneak in? I don't expect that to be easy. Don't you think the place will be guarded?"

Coldan bit his lips. "It probably will", he conceded. "Ve'll hev to create a diversion to distract the guards - you know, like ze last battle at ze Morannon vere ze King engaged ze army of Mordor vile Frodo attacked ze Dark Lord at Barad-dûr."

"I know what diversion means", snapped Asta. "What do you have in mind?"

Coldan's brow furrowed in pondering, while his glance wandered aimlessly around the interior of the cart as if looking for an idea; when it alighted on the looming frame of the mechanical dragon, his face suddenly lit up, and he flashed a mischievous grin at Asta.

"Could you spare some of ze stuff you use to make Smaug breathe fire?"

[Galadriel55]

Thiliel was not in the mood for doing more favors for the Players. She could not wait to see the play, but it was because of them that she made her uncle worry. If they wouldn't be at the inn, she wouldn't have done anything wrong. Nor would I be able to meet the real actors, she thought.

But whatever her mood was, customers came first. She carefully listened to the man's request, and nodded when he finished speaking: it was not anything special or hard to do. "I will take a tray to Mistress Celebrindal after I finish serving to everybody inside. If you want, I can give her a message." Thiliel thought for a moment, and then added, "Why, is her ankle worse again?"

[Nerwen]

"Could you spare some of ze stuff you use to make Smaug breathe fire?"

"Coldan, that's a marvellous idea!" Asta beamed. "It would be worth it just to see the looks on their faces!" Despite Harrenon's presence, she very nearly kissed the prompter a second time. "And don't you worry about breaking in," she added, as she quickly selected a number of slender, oddly-shaped picks and wrenches from amongst the large variety of tools hanging on the walls, "I know a thing or two about locks and bolts, I can tell you– Father wasn't just a toymaker. Here, Harry, take this–"

She might have passed Harrenon a live snake, from the way he stared at the long chisel-tipped rod in his hand.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" he asked in a faint voice.

"Why, break the door open– if need be," Asta explained, not very patiently. Really, there were times when Harry seemed positively dense. "You will be careful with it, though, won't you?"

[Thinlómien]

Since she had discovered she had been fooled, Sereth had felt so stupid she had wished she could melt into the walls. Luckily, no one seemed to care - they were more interested in redistributing the roles and then, fighting about the dragon.

Asta stormed out - typical, if you asked Sereth - and was followed by Coldan, then Harrenon and finally Thiliel too. There was nobody but her and Brinn and Rollan in the wagon anymore, and maybe she had succeeded in beoming one with the wall, because the couple started arguing with each other as if she wasn't there. When Brinn started talking about cancelling the play and Seri herself crying for weeks, she couldn't help the tears that rose into her eyes. However, she would hide her grief this time.

One wouldn't have needed to have Sereth's skill in moving quietly to exit the wagon without notice - Brinn and Rollan were hardly concentrating on anything else than screaming at each other. Once she was out, Sereth found the darkest corner of the yard and sat there, crying.

Crying didn't make her feel so good though. She realised she had been agitated enough for a few days, she didn't want it anymore. And since all the adults seemed to be flipping out, maybe she should not go crazy too. Decisively, she wiped the tears and ignoring the fact that her eyes must be red she marched into the inn.

She didn't know what she actually wanted to do, but when she saw Rollan, she knew. She needed to make it better.

Rollan didn't look like he particularily wanted to talk to her or anybody else, though, but as Thiliel was already chatting with him, Sereth felt bold enough to join in.

"Rollan," she interrupted whatever discussion that was going on. "I know how we can solve this mess. We can replace the spider with a dragon, dragons are much scarier anyway."

She gave him a tentative smile.