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Story Hour
seasong's Light Against The Dark II (May 13)
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<blockquote data-quote="seasong" data-source="post: 774380" data-attributes="member: 5137"><p><span style="color: orange"><strong>Olympiad: The Opening Ceremony</strong></span></p><p></p><p>The dragon, kept hidden in pieces in a wine cellar for the past year and a half while the artisans who got the job worked on it, now stands assembled and covered with a tarp of stitched grape vines and leaves. Nothing of it is visible, save for the muscular young men and women who will operate it, squirming into its underbelly.</p><p></p><p>The playwright, Estellas the Short, is a <em>phastini</em> woman of unusual girth and serious demeanor, and she stomps around among the other actors, double checking them for lines, positions, makeup. It will be perfect, or she'll flay the lot of them, of that most of them are certain.</p><p></p><p>Every five years, the Dragon Play is revisited at the Olympiad, interpreted in some fashion by the playwright who wins the honor. For the first time in a long time, there is new material. A lot of it. At the last minute. And Estellas the Short had a short temper <em>before</em> all of this happened.</p><p></p><p>Then, the moment. Estellas collapses in the background, unnoticed, as the stitched grape vines...</p><p></p><p>Contract. They do not fall away, but instead pull inward, tugged by hidden ropes, and, in an immensely satisfying <strong>rtchhh</strong>, <em>become</em> the dragon! It stands eight feet tall at the shoulders, and a massive, crane-like neck bobs up and down, left and right. The mouth opens, and a spray of red, paper streamers blows from the mouth, scattering faux flames over the closest audience. A pair of wings lift and drop...</p><p></p><p>But what most people notice is that it very closely resembles Amalan, as seen only months before, and they take a moment to admire the slumped Estellas before cheering. Many playwrights have had difficulties building a dragon - few have managed it without a hitch with only months to rebuild it.</p><p></p><p>Amalan and Theralis' early history is sketched in quickly. Thera, played by a well known actress, singer and athlete, delivers her lines with force and conviction, at first standing up bravely to the dragon, then coyly persuading him to let her people have a place to live. The Keraunesti, the most feared and admired shock troops of Theralis, stand in for the soldiers of centuries ago, and (sometimes laughing) are scattered about like rag dolls through a room by the swinging neck, flapping wings, and vigorous body slamming. The story is mostly overwrought drama, as it always is, and told more with actions than with words - the audience knows the words already, for the most part.</p><p></p><p>Then, the modern age. Flat, painted buildings are hastily made vertical, representing the city, and Amalan stomps down the central avenue (in truth, it was his kobold, but this looked better). He speaks the same words that kobold did a few years ago, saying "Dwellers in the city of Amalan's valleys, I bring you both warnings and thanks. In your war, you have observed the old treaties well. My friendship with your people is strengthened by this, and I thank you for your respect."</p><p></p><p>"However, I also know that war is a time of great temptation, and ask that you not, in desparation, forget the bonds forged in centuries of friendship between your people and Me. Do not think that such things can be escaped, as these orcs once did."</p><p></p><p>And then, another set of soldier-actors, these dressed as orcs in filthy hides and cruel, ugly spears, run in to fight the dragon. It blows red streamers at them, and they scream as if burning. Some of them fall over, some of them remain standing, their faces frozen in fear.</p><p></p><p>There was no other way to present it. The memories of the kobold's illusory retelling is still vivid in the city dweller's minds. After a moment of respectful silence, the buildings are flipped around to present flat, painted mountains.</p><p></p><p>And Phitios himself steps onto the stage, to parley with the dragon. The actor for the orc war chief is a well known comedic, and he overacts to the hilt. Laughter helps heal the memories of the burning orcs, and Phitios recites his lines with pomp and relish. Then, as Phitios and a large young man attempting to play the part of Athan walk off, hands to their ears and heads cocked back as if listening, the war chief takes center stage as a bumbling fool, attempting to impress the dragon by alternately cringing and blustering.</p><p></p><p>Finally, the dragon sends him off, shaking its head in a remarkably human gesture of irritation, and then the Olympiad is officially opened by the arcanists of Theralis, who unleash an impressive display of fireballs into the sky simultaneously (in most years, there are 3-4, but this year an even dozen fireballs erupt in the sky).</p><p></p><p>The Olympiad has begun.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="seasong, post: 774380, member: 5137"] [color=orange][b]Olympiad: The Opening Ceremony[/b][/color] The dragon, kept hidden in pieces in a wine cellar for the past year and a half while the artisans who got the job worked on it, now stands assembled and covered with a tarp of stitched grape vines and leaves. Nothing of it is visible, save for the muscular young men and women who will operate it, squirming into its underbelly. The playwright, Estellas the Short, is a [i]phastini[/i] woman of unusual girth and serious demeanor, and she stomps around among the other actors, double checking them for lines, positions, makeup. It will be perfect, or she'll flay the lot of them, of that most of them are certain. Every five years, the Dragon Play is revisited at the Olympiad, interpreted in some fashion by the playwright who wins the honor. For the first time in a long time, there is new material. A lot of it. At the last minute. And Estellas the Short had a short temper [i]before[/i] all of this happened. Then, the moment. Estellas collapses in the background, unnoticed, as the stitched grape vines... Contract. They do not fall away, but instead pull inward, tugged by hidden ropes, and, in an immensely satisfying [b]rtchhh[/b], [i]become[/i] the dragon! It stands eight feet tall at the shoulders, and a massive, crane-like neck bobs up and down, left and right. The mouth opens, and a spray of red, paper streamers blows from the mouth, scattering faux flames over the closest audience. A pair of wings lift and drop... But what most people notice is that it very closely resembles Amalan, as seen only months before, and they take a moment to admire the slumped Estellas before cheering. Many playwrights have had difficulties building a dragon - few have managed it without a hitch with only months to rebuild it. Amalan and Theralis' early history is sketched in quickly. Thera, played by a well known actress, singer and athlete, delivers her lines with force and conviction, at first standing up bravely to the dragon, then coyly persuading him to let her people have a place to live. The Keraunesti, the most feared and admired shock troops of Theralis, stand in for the soldiers of centuries ago, and (sometimes laughing) are scattered about like rag dolls through a room by the swinging neck, flapping wings, and vigorous body slamming. The story is mostly overwrought drama, as it always is, and told more with actions than with words - the audience knows the words already, for the most part. Then, the modern age. Flat, painted buildings are hastily made vertical, representing the city, and Amalan stomps down the central avenue (in truth, it was his kobold, but this looked better). He speaks the same words that kobold did a few years ago, saying "Dwellers in the city of Amalan's valleys, I bring you both warnings and thanks. In your war, you have observed the old treaties well. My friendship with your people is strengthened by this, and I thank you for your respect." "However, I also know that war is a time of great temptation, and ask that you not, in desparation, forget the bonds forged in centuries of friendship between your people and Me. Do not think that such things can be escaped, as these orcs once did." And then, another set of soldier-actors, these dressed as orcs in filthy hides and cruel, ugly spears, run in to fight the dragon. It blows red streamers at them, and they scream as if burning. Some of them fall over, some of them remain standing, their faces frozen in fear. There was no other way to present it. The memories of the kobold's illusory retelling is still vivid in the city dweller's minds. After a moment of respectful silence, the buildings are flipped around to present flat, painted mountains. And Phitios himself steps onto the stage, to parley with the dragon. The actor for the orc war chief is a well known comedic, and he overacts to the hilt. Laughter helps heal the memories of the burning orcs, and Phitios recites his lines with pomp and relish. Then, as Phitios and a large young man attempting to play the part of Athan walk off, hands to their ears and heads cocked back as if listening, the war chief takes center stage as a bumbling fool, attempting to impress the dragon by alternately cringing and blustering. Finally, the dragon sends him off, shaking its head in a remarkably human gesture of irritation, and then the Olympiad is officially opened by the arcanists of Theralis, who unleash an impressive display of fireballs into the sky simultaneously (in most years, there are 3-4, but this year an even dozen fireballs erupt in the sky). The Olympiad has begun. [/QUOTE]
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