The King's Players RPG

[Dimturiel]

Harrenon felt worried. He did not possess Asta’s sometimes worrying imagination, so he really was not afraid of being clapped in irons or thrown from the Citadel. But he was still uneasy, thinking that if they really were getting some of the play – or, with their luck, most of it – wrong there were bound to be consequences. If they somehow offended the King – or even his guests from the Shire – things would most likely not go well for them.

“I am more afraid that they would never allow us to perform in Gondor ever again,” Harrenon said in answer to Asta’s panicked words. “Or never allow us to set foot here again, for any reasons.”

Not that it was any better. Harrenon was from Gondor after all. He might have been on the road with the Players most of the time, but if somehow after many years he decided to retire, he wanted the chance to go back to his home in Lossanarch. If they could manage to get information about the real events, perhaps they would be able to avoid any trouble. Harrenon walked towards Coldan:

“So, what do you say?” he asked him. “How about you trying your luck with me in the city?”

[the phantom]

Aldarion nodded his head in private agreement with the way things were turning. If we are going to attempt to climb this cliff, we should indeed invest considerable time and effort into gathering more information. And certainly there are a few members that should not be allowed out alone, as they are likely to edit any information they collect to fit their own devices.

While everyone was busy speaking to one another, Aldarion stepped up beside Asta and spoke in a low voice while looking straight ahead at the seated Brinn and Rolan. "You're quite right about Branor's antics ruining that last scene, but perhaps we should not be too eager to disprove his new information. At least this version of Aragorn doesn't strut about the stage speaking unnecessarily slowly and posing during battles. Just before, in that encounter with the orcs on the Anduin, this new backstabbing Aragorn actually looked like he was trying to be lethal. No doubt there are flaws in Branor's information, but I like this version as a starting point compared to the old character."

Still looking straight ahead, Aldarion continued in a whisper as the other conversations seemed to lull simultaneously. "If need be Brinn can put her foot down on his wandering about during inappropriate scenes. And as far as getting clapped in irons- I imagine you can escape unscathed by simply blaming the whole thing on the playwright."

[Mnemosyne]

"Sooner rather than later, I agree," said Brinn. "But let's sleep on all this first before our imaginations get away from us." The sun was getting lower, but still hadn't set yet. The rehearsal was sputtering to a halt.

"But first thing tomorrow, let's set out in pairs to discover the truth of the matter. Not me, unfortunately, but someone should stay to guard the carts anyhow.

"Therian and Branor, see what you can learn about the pheriannath--all of them. Harrenon and Coldan, why don't you do the same thing about the men of Gondor--also, all of them." She hoped that was sufficient code language for "the King" without getting Branor's ire up--she'd have to speak to one of them later to make sure they knew. "Asta, look after Sereth for me, and both of you, see what else you can learn of the marvels and the villains--we may have to ditch the Sorceress, but I'd rather not ditch her woods after all the work you've put into them. Rollan, love, why don't you go with Aldarion, and learn whatever you can of--" she paused in thought "--any of the characters I haven't already mentioned?"

"Amdir, I don't think we can spare you, since those sets take time, plus I really should keep off my feet as much as possible. But anyone who needs advice for the City should talk to him."

"That doesn't seem entirely fair!" said Rollan. "Why don't I get to stay behind and cosset you?"

"You don't know the sets, Rollan," said Brinn, a little more harshly than she meant it. "And I can take care of myself perfectly well, as long as someone brings me my meals--which you can do for breakfast and the daymeal. At any rate, you have all day today to pamper me, and plenty of time once this whole thing has blown over. Till then..." she grimaced and squeezed his hand. "We'll all have to work hard if we want to pull this off.

"And remember, if you find something that we've done right, well, that's one less thing we have to change."

So saying, Brinn--warily--stood up, her husband supporting her. Taking a few deep breaths, she told herself that they could--and would--make this work.