The King's Players RPG

[Mnemosyne]

Therian came over to Brinn and touched her shoulder.

"Now what is it?"

"Er... uh, Branor's passed out backstage."

Brinn bit back a curse and pinched the bridge of her nose again. "All right. We don't rehearse any of the scenes that Elessar--oh, wait, he's in most every scene, isn't he?"

"I could understudy for him, for now."

"No, we need you--" to fill in random parts and then humiliate yourself playing a woman you disdain offstage--marvelous job, really "--well, the rehearsal's in shambles anyhow; we'll just do the scenes we can run safely without him--the Pelennor and the witch-dragon doesn't have him in it, does it?"

She looked back at the stage. Aldarion was currently attempting to inject nuance into King Butterbur. Everyone was looking expectantly at the place where Elessar was supposed to show up, and she realized it was Branor's cue.

"Branor's passed out backstage," she said, "so we'll just move along to the mines."

"Don't we need everyone who's fighting for that?" said Harrenon

"And the mechanics," said Asta. "I can't just do them on the spot, you know."

"What about the Sorceress?"

"Mechanics."

"All right, then! Saruman--and I know that that doesn't require anything fancy. Then, Asta, let's get together the things to run the Sorceress and her evil trees."

She heaved a big sigh, and Rollan, at least, was willing to take the upheaval in good stride, eliciting a chuckle or three from the few locals who had gathered in his portrayal of Saruman. Backstage, she ran over her lines quickly while Asta was getting the things in place for the trees.

Determined to make this rehearsal as right as possible, Brinn strode back onstage on her cue, right on top of one of the tree roots. Her foot caught, and with a wrench of pain, Brinn sprawled upon the floor.

[Nerwen]

Asta did not actually drop the tree she had been fitting into place, but she set it down very hastily indeed before dashing to her sister's side. Brinn was clutching her ankle and wincing. The tree next to her swayed violently back-and-forth; even as Asta got there it slipped from its controlling rods and fell across Brinn with a rustling crash. Asta pulled it off her, almost wailing when she saw the damage. The tree-prop was a hollow affair, too lightweight to hurt Brinn any more than she was already, but it had itself been crushed right out of shape, the wires and struts of its framework bent, snapped or protruding through rents in the fabric skin.

"I think– I think it's broken!" said Brinn.

"Broken? It's ruined!" said Asta. "At least, I don't think I can fix it in time for–"

"No, silly, I mean my ankle," gasped Brinn, white-faced with pain.

By this time the others had gathered around. Rollan prised his wife's fingers from her ankle, which indeed was swelling and discolouring rapidly. He said he did not think it was broken, though he was not sure, but that it looked pretty bad.

"Brinn, you are a clumsy goat sometimes," said Asta, more in sympathy than insult. "Objects just seem to jump out and– and bite you! Oh dear, oh dear, what are we going to do now?"

Brinn echoed her distress, concerned not for herself but for the fate of the performance, for she doubted her foot would be better in time.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll find some way..." Asta looked around her as if for inspiration, but saw only the gaping mouths of the Evil Trees, leering in mockery. "I've always heard there's very good healers in the White City. Or perhaps we could have the Sorceress sit down– she could be on a throne, you know... or maybe," she added with just a touch of malice, "Therian, you could take over the rôle?"

[the phantom]

Just what we need.... an injury!

Aldarion looked on in concern. The ankle did not look good, but worse than that was Aldarion's imaginings of what Brinn would do. He feared she would tell everyone off and try and tough things out and end up hurting herself worse. The show must go on, after all, and Brinn could be quite stubborn.

In an attempt to appease her sense of dedication, Aldarion offered, "Rollan or someone can take you to the healers immediately, or go and fetch them if you do not feel inclined to move, and the rest of us can continue rehearsals. You are important to our rehearsals, but it is far more important that you are functional come performance time."

[Pitchwife]

This production was clearly jinxed, Coldan thought while he anxiously watched Rollan examining Brinn's ankle. First the plot of their script had started falling to pieces, then their lead actor had passed out in a drunken stupor, and now the backbone of the troupe, the one person who could be counted on to keep their crumbling act together, had managed to incapacitate herself. Could it come any worse?

Fortunately, most of Brinn's roles in the play were walk-on parts which could be taken by any of the other Players, except for the Sorceress of the Golden Wood; that, however, posed a major problem because of the crucial seduction scene, in which all of Frodo's companions were supposed to be on stage with her at the same time, leaving none of them able to stand in for her.

"Perhaps we could have the Sorceress sit down", Asta suggested, "she could be on a throne, you know... or maybe, Therian, you could take over the rôle?"

Therian didn't seem too enthusiastic about that proposal, but to Coldan, it was a stroke of genius. Yes, of course! Make him the Sorceress and let Asta play Éowyn the Shieldmaiden instead! Therian's sullen mien would do nicely for a six thousand year old hag, and this way Asta could get to play a heroine after all; killing the Witch-King herself should recompense her amply for not dying a tragical death.

This time, however, he managed to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being. There would be opportunity enough to bring them up the next day, or the day after that, when they had found out what else in the script needed to be changed. For now, Brinn's injury had to be dealt with. Aldarion was doing his best to convince her to be sensible and let herself be looked after, and for once, Coldan found himself agreeing with the playwright's common sense.

"I zink you should stay here and lie down, Brinn", he said. "You shouldn't valk on zat foot. Ve'd hev to take you to ze Houses of Healing in a vagon, and zat's uncomfortable on zese cobbled streets. Better for one of us to run and fetch a healer. I can go, Rollan, if you'd rather stay viz her. Amdír can give me directions, and I trust ze rest of you should be able to remember your lines vizout me by now."

[Thinlómien]

Oh no! Sereth thought. Poor Brinn! She walked over and sat next to the woman who had become both a big sister and a mother to her. "Are you sure it's broken?" she asked, wincing sympathetically.

"And anyway...." she added, hesitating a little, not quite sure how to say what she thought, maybe it was stupid or something... "Or, I mean, maybe it's just sprained. Or even if it's broken - I don't mean that it wouldn't hurt - but, Brinn couldn't the Sorceress walk with a crutch? She's supposed to be very old anyhow."

[Mnemosyne]

Brinn sighed and gingerly poked at the injured ankle, already swelling. Sprained or broken, it hurt.

"I can't put any weight on it," she said. "I'll either have to be carried to the Healers, or one of them brought here. We can decide what to do with the Sorceress after we know how things will look at the end of the week. In the meantime," and she nodded at Aldarion for his suggestion, "we can, at the very least, run the final scenes of single combat, and a few others as well."

Rollan helped her to stand up, then gently lifted her down from the stage as they decided what to do next.

[the phantom]

Aldarion nearly agreed to Coldan's offer to fetch a healer, but upon second thought Amdir seemed the better choice, as a local would surely be the swiftest, and might also know which healers to try and secure. But of course his character, Pippin the Hobbit Prince, played a major role in the various skirmishes the troop needed to walk through, and also had several lines in the confrontations in Rohan and Minas Tirith, where as Coldan's Gimli was not quite so important.

Not entirely decided, Aldarion spoke up and gave a summary of what could be done without Amdir. "Well, the orc attack on the Anduin would be problematic, but we can have the boat conversation between Mary and Boromir as well as Frodo and Aragorn's conversation on the bank- I can read Branor's part. We are split during the Rauros battle anyway- Boromir and Mary will miss Pippin in their battle scene, but we can at least say our lines- perhaps Sereth can read for Pippin from Rauros on, as the two never appear together after that."

"Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli can have their battle as well- I should be able to stand in for Branor for both lines and the fighting." Aldarion resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Branor's fighting after all is little except puffing up his chest, shouting, and taking a big swing. How I wish he would let me actually give him a choreographed sequence! "For the orcs that would've been Brinn we'll just have to pretend. Asta can do Mary's escape from the orcs with Sereth in as Pippin, and they can do the forest scenes as well. The fighting in Rohan should be pretty well fine, other than we'll be missing opponents every so often."

"The confrontation with Saruman we may wish to skip, as everyone has something to do besides Sereth, and we have two holes to fill- Branor and Amdir. Since the main cast is often apart during the battle of Minas Tirith most of those scenes should be fine, and the Mordor scenes will be pretty well unaffected."

"So," finished Aldarion, "Do we send Amdir?"

[Pitchwife]

Coldan shrugged. "I hev younger legs, but if you zink I'll get lost, send Amdír. It's up to you."
The indifference was faked, of course. He would have given a lot for a chance to save the day by bringing a healer to Brinn in no time, thereby earning a grateful or (maybe, just maybe) even admiring glance from her sister, but of course Aldarion had to ruin that. (A small voice in the back of his head whispered to him that it made perfect sense to send a man on this errand who knew his way around the city, and that Aldarion was doing rather well at organizing things in this disastrous situation, but that didn't help.)