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Arcanis: Gonnes, Sons, and Treasure Runs (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4181240" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>The Last Resort - Part 1b: Opening Night</strong></p><p></p><p>“We should leave,” said Ilmarė. She put her hand on the hilt of her thinblade. “Now.”</p><p></p><p>“We can’t,” said Beldin. “There’s too many humans in the way.” </p><p></p><p>A couple of audience members appeared to have been overcome by mild hysterics and there was muffled sobbing from more. One or two gentlemen were conversing rather loudly about the play in deprecating terms as though seeking support. But many other audience members appeared to be spellbound. </p><p></p><p>She snorted. “So? We’d only have to kill a few to get out…” Before she could finish speaking, the curtains rose again. </p><p></p><p>A masked ball was taking place on the palace balcony. The guests were finely dressed, intricately masked and they moved to music played by the house orchestra. It took a moment to see the Stranger; he wore a bone white mask and moved stiffly and without gaiety. </p><p></p><p>After awhile the revelers began to take off their masks. Their eyes looked bright and their actions were extravagant, unrestrained. The stranger kept his mask—rather, he wore no mask! He grasped the Queen by the arm and she collapsed. </p><p></p><p>Another figure appeared in tattered robes.</p><p></p><p>“The King in Yellow,” snarled Ilmarė. </p><p></p><p>He was huge and he held a sword and a torch that emitted smoke but no light. He talked with the Queen and the priest. From asides amongst the revelers it was clear that all had seen the Sign, all must wear the mask—Yhtill had become Carcosa and they were no longer entirely human. </p><p></p><p>The King disappeared. Out of the crowd of fear-stricken guests ran the child. He went to the Stranger, who himself had fallen to the ground, and took him by the hand to follow in the wake of the King. The final lines of dialogue petered out somehow, distorted and lost.</p><p></p><p>The curtain fell and suddenly all was uproar. With the ending of the play, it was though a spell had been lifted. </p><p></p><p>Two men rushed forward toward the curtain, where they were met by stagehands; three others turn on the audience. </p><p></p><p>A woman scratched and clawed at Ilmarė. Her elven thinblade was out in a flash, slicing a thin red trail across the woman’s arm. Heedless of any injury, the woman leaped forward, pressing her heavier bulk against the much lighter elf. </p><p></p><p>Beldin batted the insane woman aside with the flat of his axe. “I can’t hold them all off!” he shouted. </p><p></p><p>Another man next to him bashed Beldin over the head with a bottle. The bottle shattered with no effect on the hardheaded dwarf. Beldin used the haft of his axe to smash the man in the gut. He crumpled in a heap.</p><p></p><p>The Sea Lord’s Guard was already making their way through the crowd, beating people with clubs indiscriminately. People turned from attacking each other to running and screaming. What little order was left in the Opera House dissolved into utter chaos.</p><p></p><p>“The guard finally arrives on time for a change.” Ilmarė ducked the swing of a man’s cane. She vaulted herself onto the chair of one of the opera house seats and then flipped over the frothing man. She landed lightly on her feet…</p><p></p><p>Only to have one hand cuffed by a pair of manacles. </p><p></p><p>“Hey!” she shouted, but two other guardsmen grabbed her roughly by the arms and slapped the other half of the manacles on her wrists. </p><p></p><p>“Cor, we gots a wild one!” Three guardsmen closed in on Beldin. A fourth guard held the side of his bleeding head.</p><p></p><p>“I’d leave him be if I were you,” said Ilmarė. “Solani dwarves are sworn to protect humans. If he wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead by now.”</p><p></p><p>“Izzat right?” said a particularly ugly guardsmen with a sneer. “Well let’s see if the lil fuzzy stumper’s got any life in ‘em then?”</p><p></p><p>“What did you call me?” roared Beldin.</p><p></p><p>Ilmarė sighed. “I told you not to do that.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4181240, member: 3285"] [b]The Last Resort - Part 1b: Opening Night[/b] “We should leave,” said Ilmarė. She put her hand on the hilt of her thinblade. “Now.” “We can’t,” said Beldin. “There’s too many humans in the way.” A couple of audience members appeared to have been overcome by mild hysterics and there was muffled sobbing from more. One or two gentlemen were conversing rather loudly about the play in deprecating terms as though seeking support. But many other audience members appeared to be spellbound. She snorted. “So? We’d only have to kill a few to get out…” Before she could finish speaking, the curtains rose again. A masked ball was taking place on the palace balcony. The guests were finely dressed, intricately masked and they moved to music played by the house orchestra. It took a moment to see the Stranger; he wore a bone white mask and moved stiffly and without gaiety. After awhile the revelers began to take off their masks. Their eyes looked bright and their actions were extravagant, unrestrained. The stranger kept his mask—rather, he wore no mask! He grasped the Queen by the arm and she collapsed. Another figure appeared in tattered robes. “The King in Yellow,” snarled Ilmarė. He was huge and he held a sword and a torch that emitted smoke but no light. He talked with the Queen and the priest. From asides amongst the revelers it was clear that all had seen the Sign, all must wear the mask—Yhtill had become Carcosa and they were no longer entirely human. The King disappeared. Out of the crowd of fear-stricken guests ran the child. He went to the Stranger, who himself had fallen to the ground, and took him by the hand to follow in the wake of the King. The final lines of dialogue petered out somehow, distorted and lost. The curtain fell and suddenly all was uproar. With the ending of the play, it was though a spell had been lifted. Two men rushed forward toward the curtain, where they were met by stagehands; three others turn on the audience. A woman scratched and clawed at Ilmarė. Her elven thinblade was out in a flash, slicing a thin red trail across the woman’s arm. Heedless of any injury, the woman leaped forward, pressing her heavier bulk against the much lighter elf. Beldin batted the insane woman aside with the flat of his axe. “I can’t hold them all off!” he shouted. Another man next to him bashed Beldin over the head with a bottle. The bottle shattered with no effect on the hardheaded dwarf. Beldin used the haft of his axe to smash the man in the gut. He crumpled in a heap. The Sea Lord’s Guard was already making their way through the crowd, beating people with clubs indiscriminately. People turned from attacking each other to running and screaming. What little order was left in the Opera House dissolved into utter chaos. “The guard finally arrives on time for a change.” Ilmarė ducked the swing of a man’s cane. She vaulted herself onto the chair of one of the opera house seats and then flipped over the frothing man. She landed lightly on her feet… Only to have one hand cuffed by a pair of manacles. “Hey!” she shouted, but two other guardsmen grabbed her roughly by the arms and slapped the other half of the manacles on her wrists. “Cor, we gots a wild one!” Three guardsmen closed in on Beldin. A fourth guard held the side of his bleeding head. “I’d leave him be if I were you,” said Ilmarė. “Solani dwarves are sworn to protect humans. If he wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead by now.” “Izzat right?” said a particularly ugly guardsmen with a sneer. “Well let’s see if the lil fuzzy stumper’s got any life in ‘em then?” “What did you call me?” roared Beldin. Ilmarė sighed. “I told you not to do that.” [/QUOTE]
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