QUIET MOUNDS - STEF HEART

[abardacttofollow]

You find yourself in a stone room that looks like some sort of medieval dungeon. There are (thankfully), no torture instruments, but there is a man strung up here. One large manacle is around his neck, chaining him stiffly to the door. His hands are free, but each foot is manacled to the matching bottom corner of the doorframe. There is a visible lock on each of the three manacles.

It's Stefen, and there's a knife in his chest. Despite that, he's alive, apparently alert, and doesn't look to be in pain, perhaps due to the lulling, sense-dulling music that seems to be coming from nowhere at all—in fact, if you were in pain before you entered, it's gone here. His wound is bleeding, but only a little, and he smiles his usual bright smile at you.

Behind him, but in front of the closed door he's bound to, you can see three double sets of strings running vertically. Where they meet the floor, they are fastened, and then each runs across the floor to the three doors on the opposite wall, then under them.

There is nothing else in this room.

((OOC: Here's how this will work! Since we're doing individual runs, rather than me putting up individual top levels for areas, just jump the post itself, and I'll run everything for you within your one thread. If you're wanting to do a run with someone else, just stay in the same thread together.))

Comments

[mindinthegittern]

Well, sure, I'm aware—oh this is ridiculous.

I'm sure there's an answer that's s'posed to fit for this, this situation, but all I can think is that Stefen's had to take on more of a burden of duty than any human being reasonably ought to and I more than half wish he wasn't so good at living up to it. How he'll use his Gift in service to the King, and Valdemar—it's far too heavy a weight and he'll carry it. Don't know if that's... the answer, um, now, but—

[shrugs uncomfortably]

[abardacttofollow]

"Fair enough," Dellar says. He offers you the key.

[mindinthegittern]

[...oh]

Thanks. Thank you!

[IM OUTTIE. back to the Guard! gonna unlock that next shackle right away]

[abardacttofollow]

[wiggles his other foot as it's freed] Thanks.

[mindinthegittern]

Anytime, my dear~

Well, I say that, but I think we'd both rather folks weren't running around your Heart ever. Which means I guess I'm off again.

[abardacttofollow]

I would prefer that. Sorry, and thanks as always.

[mindinthegittern]

[nods and moves on to the Gift]

The Gift 1

[abardacttofollow]

You find yourself in a royal court, with King Randale on his seat. He looks tired and unwell, but is upright and smiling. The music is loud here, the source of where it's playing throughout the Heart: Stefen, much the age you're used to seeing him, seated on the dias and playing a lute for entertainment. Across the king's lap is a scepter, and a long lush carpet leads up to the throne. On either side of the carpet are people come to get the king's audience, mostly the rich and fancifully dressed. Behind the throne there is a door; the cord runs through the middle of the room, under the throne and the king's feet, and under that locked door. Next to the door is some sort of empty scale, clearly attached in some way.

"Well? Who's next?" the king asks, in a friendly voice despite his paleness, and the dark circles under his eyes.

A sign on the door reads: "What is the weight of security?"

[mindinthegittern]

...

[glances at Stef, then at Randale, hesitating.

whatever. there's other people in line. walking over to Stefen and sitting down near him.]

[abardacttofollow]

Stefen comes a little out of trance, giving Medren a tight smile. His fingers are blistered and starting to tear on the strings.

[mindinthegittern]

Hey, careful with yourself...

[abardacttofollow]

"It's okay. The audience isn't over yet."

[mindinthegittern]

...when I get out of here we're going to have a talk about what "okay" means, my friend.

[but getting up and attempting to budge in line for an audience]

[abardacttofollow]

You get in line. Stefen goes deeper into Trance again.

It looks like you'll have a little while to wait.

[mindinthegittern]

[...

yeah he lasts about twenty seconds before he just loses all patience and walks out onto the carpet.]

Your Majesty.

[abardacttofollow]

"Bard Medren," Randale greets you.

[mindinthegittern]

...Your Majesty, I'm sorry, but can't you send at least some of these people away? Bard Stefen's already played his fingers raw. And.

...

[sweat]

And. May I borrow your scepter. For a moment. Please.

[abardacttofollow]

Randale looks apologetic. "In just a minute. I don't... of course I don't want to make him play more than necessary."

He hands you his scepter. Apparently he trusts you.

[mindinthegittern]

[fucked up!!]

Thank you.

[gonna. go put it. on the scale.]

[abardacttofollow]

Nothing happens.

[mindinthegittern]

[to himself]

...huh. So, not royal favour...?

[awkwardly giving the scepter back before anything else...]

[abardacttofollow]

Randale takes it, apparently accepting this weirdness at face value. "Beg pardon?"

[mindinthegittern]

Oh—I thought maybe the "weight of security" this time would be a sign of favour from you, Your Majesty.

[abardacttofollow]

"My favor..." Randale looks slightly perplexed. "He already has it, doesn't he? Stefen, come here."

Stefen looks a bit alarmed.

[mindinthegittern]

[mouths "sorry" at Stefen but also makes subtle get-over-here gestures]