The King's Players RPG

[Galadriel55]

Belegon did not blink when he heard the gong, too loud according to some and ear-splitting to others. It was too much a part of his daily routine for him to react differently. When he hears the gong, he should head to the dining hall, to stand there like a pillar of stone unless his Lord and Lady need him. There he went. On his way, he curtly greeted other servants, whose duty did not involve standing by the doors of the dining hall every evening.

“Good evening, Belegon!”

“Evening it is, Galadelen, good or not.” Down the hall. Up the stairs. To the right. Through a small chamber. Past a marble statue.

“Good evening, Belegon, and well met! Are you to the dining hall?”

“Evening, evening, Earendur. Dining hall, as always.”

“Look out for Lord Sador, he is in a strange mood today.” A quick nod. Straight till the end of the hallway. Then left. Down a short flight of stairs. Through a maze of rooms. Quicken the pace: dinner will start soon.

BOOM! Suddenly the house was filled with noise again, and this time it was not the gong. A few more crashes. Someone in the next room screamed. A young maid almost ran into to Belegon. She looked a mess. Evidently, the noise – whatever it was – frightened her much more than it did him.

“O, Belegon, I’m so glad you’re here! That terrible -… what was it? It did not sound like thunder! You will go and make sure everything is all right, won’t you?”

“My place is at the dining hall. Others can give heed to whatever worries there are.”

“But, Belegon, someone has to go! The Ladies are scared. We all are. And Galadelen said that she saw smoke from the window. What if there’s a fire?”

“I am off to the dining hall. Do not make me late. Lord Ecsichil wants me to be there.”

“Lord Ecsichil wants the Ladies to be safe! He wants his house to be safe!” Curt nod. Ecsichil wants me to check on that noise.

“Where was the sound coming from?” he asked the maiden.

“I think it came from the West Wing. And Galadelen said she saw smoke there too, lots of it. The window was open, and -” Another nod. Turn around. Stride away quickly, but with dignity, to show that silly young girl how to behave in Ecsichil’s house. Back through the labyrinth of little rooms and storages. Turn here, turn there. Finally in the West Wing. Walking down the hall. Some smoke is drifting along. It is coming from the direction of the back door. Find out what was the problem, if there was lightning, if there is a fire, calm everyone down.

It was very queer. At Ecsichil’s house, the most that could happen was an overly-spirited banquet. Or an overly-spirited play. Never crashes, bangs, and booms that scared the ladies as if it was Grond, beating against the gates of Minas Tirith. Even queerer were the voices that came out of the smoke, which was so thick that Belegon could hardly see in front of him. And they were not the voices of children who played a petty jest on the entire household. If it were so, some servant would show them what it means to dare such a thing, especially on a night like that. Nay, they were voices of a man and a woman.

[Pitchwife]

Surprised, Asta ceased for a moment to resist Coldan's pull. "You spoke to him? How - "

She was interrupted by a marked "Harrumph!" In the door-frame stood a liveried figure with a long, stolid face under a mop of white locks. A pair of small, expressionless eyes surveyed them with the detached curiosity of a scientist studying some specimens of exotic beetle.

"Ah. A band of burglars, it would seem, breaking in to steal my lord's silverware." The lustreless eyes wandered over the remains of the door, assessing the damage. A brow rose when they came to rest on the battered lock. "This will cost you dearly. This lock was not cheap." Without changing his tone, the man went on: "Under my powers as a citizen catching a criminal in the act of breaking the law, I hereby arrest you in the name of the King on charges of trespassing, damaging my lord's property and attempted burglary. Follow me to the cellar where you will be detained until you can be handed over to a Guard of the Citadel."

"This isn't what it looks like, sir," Harrenon desparately but valiantly tried to explain. "It was all an unfortunate accident. We intended no harm to your door."

"Give up, Harry," said Asta. "We're caught red-handed, it's futile to deny our guilt." She turned to the servant and put on her meekest expression (a rare sight, even on stage). "We can make this short, sir. I think I saw a Guardsman passing down yonder street just a moment ago. We'll come quietly."

The servant gave her a curt nod. "Excellent. Wait right here and do not budge." Moving as stiffly as if he had swallowed a rod, he strode off towards the street, waving a hand and calling, "Ho there! Guard!"

As soon as his back was turned to them, Asta gestured frantically to Coldan, pointing at the crowbar that had fallen from his waistcoat when they had tumbled down. Acting without thinking, Coldan snatched it up, ran after the servant and hit him over the head with the tool. The man stood still for a moment, then collapsed like a felled oak.

Coldan knelt down to feel his pulse and was immensely relieved to find he had not killed the man; apparently the mass of thick white hair had muffled the blow somewhat. What was strange, though, was that the white locks had come off in the fall, revealing short, dark hair underneath. The malice and treachery of these people must be unfathomable if their very servants were obliged to disguise themselves in their master's own house! A quick examination told Coldan that the skull was undamaged, but the servant would wake up with a huge lump and the mother of all headaches.

Coldan turned to look up at Asta. "Do you realize vat ve hev just done? Ve'll be in deep vater ven zis comes to light. Vill you please be reasonable now and call zis mad enterprise off before ve make zings even vorse?"

[Dimturiel]

“Coldan’s right,” Harrenon put in quickly. “We’ll be in big trouble soon. The most sensible thing we can do now – assuming you know what sensible means, Asta – is to get out of here as soon as possible.”

His tone had come out sharper than he had intended – and indeed than he would have dared to use under normal circumstances. But he could not help it. He was terrified and he was tired of being dragged all over the place following some mad scheme. He was an actor after all. The only adventures he had had so far had been on the stage and he had very much preferred it that way.

“After all,” he went on, “If Coldan says Aldarion can handle Sador – and that he is not even a prisoner there, but a guest – then maybe we should go. We’ll cause trouble if we stay any longer – not that we haven’t already. Now let’s get out of here before the guard wakes up. I don’t know about you two, but I for one have had enough mayhem for one evening.”

[Nerwen]

"Nonsense!" said Asta. "This is the perfect opportunity! Harry, he's nearest in size to you, so you'd better be the one."

"The one to what?" Harrenon had a stunned expression, as if still dazed from the explosion.

"Change clothes with him, of course– don't you pay attention to anything I say? First, we'll need to hide him somewhere–" she took hold of the unconscious man's arms, but he was a dead weight and she could barely drag him. After a moment she looked up, panting. "Well? Coldan, is it the custom of Dorwinion to let the women do all the heavy work? Or of Gondor, Harry?"

[Pitchwife]

That stung Coldan's male pride just a tad too much.

"No, it's not," he replied brusquely, glowering at Asta, "and if you insist on following zrough viz zis foolhardy plan, I'll be viz you, as you might know full vell. But you're ze one who's not paying attention. I told you Aldarion doesn't vant us here, and trust me, Asta, you don't vant to go in zere."

"Nonsense!" snorted Asta. "Why wouldn't I?"

Coldan drew a deep breath. He had meant to spare her this, but if she was going to persist in her obstinacy, he would have to be blunt.

"Because he already has a voman viz him to take care of him, zat's vy. Remember vat Sador said about Aldarion and some lady of Dol Amroth? Vell, it's true. She vas viz him ven I spoke to him. I even zink she may be on our side against Sador, and ze last zing anybody needs is you picking a catfight viz her or telling Aldarion off for double-dealing viz you in front of ze whole nobility of Gondor.

Now step aside and let me move zis hapless fool; ve can't just leave him lying here either vay. Harry, take his feet, please."

[Anguirel]

Echsichil's villa, interior

Both of the conspiratorial pairs of conversationalists in the garden had, just about, managed to obey the stern dictat of their hostess's gong. Neither were prepared for the ricocheting, incomparably, majestically more sonorous report that followed it; with a blast, too, from somewhere behind the house and to its west, that looked like the legendary dragonfire that had once strafed Erebor.

One of Lady Ecsichil's closest, most sympathetic and submissive friends, the young wife of a respectable old merchant, contributed an echo of her own, as her fainting form hit the marble with a light clunk. Reacting as much on fashion as instinct, the ladies around the hostess began to sink down likewise, as serving-men in variegated liveries scurried about to distribute salt and scents.

Aldarion and Sador, with Gloredhel and Aerwen closely following each respectively, had entered at opposite corners of the great ball-room, but each was a keen-sighted man, and at this moment some preternatural suspicion enabled each of their pairs of eyes to find the other. Both men simultaneously displayed, and concealed. I know your paltry players are behind this, Sador thought and consciously tried not to show. But Aldarion would be sharp enough to know he knew now; this Sador knew in turn, despite his delusive pride, as their glances parted.

On one of the rare occasions allotted to him by fate to take charge of the situation in his own house, it was now Lord Ecsichil who captured and reshaped the spirit of the moment. His eyes and mouth had popped open; his jaws were rising and falling, like a fish's, as was his consistent habit at moments of consternation. As he watched his wife's circle imitate ninepins - though the lady herself stayed as placid as ever - Ecsichil could contain his feelings no longer.

He burst into a rich, and long-unexercised vein of appreciative laughter.

"Sador!" he cried out heartily. "Why, you wag! This is your doing, isn't it, you and your player friend, no doubt," he chuckled, nodding courteously in Aldarion's direction, really as if he were seeing the younger man for the first time. "Come over here at once and tell me how you did it, you...you pair of egregious knaves!"

The frantic pallor with which Sador greeted his brother's first exclamation gave way to a rapid frown, a quicker yet blush, and then absolute and apparently automatic composure.

"I thought a surprise would serve us best this evening, dear brother," he appeared to admit, even having the gall to look sheepish. "The execution of the plan was all Aldarion's. He is a skilful fellow."

"So I can see," Ecsichil replied sagely. "Fella has a clever nose, saw that at once. Calm down, ladies! It's only a dragon! Ha, ha, ha..."

Ecsichil's laughter, while genuine, was always oddly phonetically precise. In his mirth as in his other attributes, he was a literal kind of man.

"Your brother may think it funny," his wife spoke up, unwittingly and automatically surrendering the serenity which had assured her high place in Minas Anor society, "but the alarm his little joke has caused our servants has quite ruined our preparations for dinner."

"Do you feel like dinner immediately after such an exciting starter?" Circilie rejoined.

"Quite right, Sissy," the elder brother agreed with equal spirit. "Let the supper be damned. Get your play going, Sador! If that's the start of the performance, I'd like the rest of it to tickle my empty stomach, not overturn a full one. Ha, ha!"

He did not often make jokes, and treasured those he produced accordingly.

"Very well," Sador answered evenly. "Sissy - Aldarion - Lady Gloredhel - would you come aside into the music room with me for a minute?"

***

The Second Circle

Vëandur was looking into the wild eyes and distraught face of his uncharacteristically ruffled looking great uncle, who seemed to have recently ridden rather faster than was good for him.

"I've acquired a spare steed," he rasped out, quicker than the mariner had ever heard the old man talk before. "I've gathered you have troubles you did not see fit to mention to me - and I, too, have cares that only now do I feel I must tell to you. Come with me to Ecsichil's, to my eldest boy's, right now. Don't bother to change. All that matters is talk, no, speed, yes, fast talk."

And with that the old lord whirled his untamed beard around, and hurtled down the creaking stares that spined that cheap lodging's length...at his own pace, but only just.

[Inziladun]

"I've acquired a spare steed," he rasped out, quicker than the mariner had ever heard the old man talk before. "I've gathered you have troubles you did not see fit to mention to me - and I, too, have cares that only now do I feel I must tell to you. Come with me to Ecsichil's, to my eldest boy's, right now. Don't bother to change. All that matters is talk, no, speed, yes, fast talk."

Vëandur hurried after the old man, slamming the door shut behind him. He usually moved pretty quickly himself, but keeping up with Cirdacil was surprisingly difficult.

"I do have troubles on my mind," said Vëandur as they strode along. "But I don't think now is the time for them. It seems greater matters are afoot." They were already approaching the gate, where the guard sprang to his feet.

Vêandur opened his mouth to hail the man and state his destination, as procedure ordered. The old man was too quick.

"Worry not, my good fellow! If you seek Vëandur of the Fleets he will be with me."

"I already told him who I was," explained Cirdacil as they passed the gate. "Good enough for the likes of him."

"You are in great distress, my uncle," said Vëandur as they reached two tied horses. "If you will share your burden with me, I shall do all I can to help you."