abardacttofollow | QUIET MOUNDS

Entry tags:

QUIET MOUNDS - STEF HEART

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.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Right! Do you need any help figuring it out? Or have you got it?"

:I thought you might stand on the platform, but if I'm guessing wrong, I wouldn't mind more conversation. It's been delightful speaking with you.:

"And yourself, m'lady! I'd love to hear more about your thoughts on music sometime, though I suppose you can do that outside of here just as well..."

[he gets on the scale. Click!]

:I would love to, in your own flesh and seeming -- even if getting to see my favorite Chosen's nephew at that age was a wonderful surprise. Consider it a promise!:

[heading through the door; this is a much nicer route, overall]

You enter a room that is… remarkably small, actually. There's just barely room for you to stand facing seven intimidating figures once the door is closed.

They're all tall, varying between middle age and elderly, and all dressed in a brilliant scarlet. The cord runs through the room and then up, being held by the man in the center of the seven. It's the bardic council, led by Dellar. He's got a face like a lumpy potato, with a mouth that looks like he could eat an entire loaf of bread in one bite, and bright, black eyes. He is holding a key in his other hand.

"Well," he says, grinning absurdly, "I don't suppose you can tell me what the weight of duty is?"

:Duty to represent the Bards, I'd suppose -- for even if you're not always sure how to be what they expect, you know that you do have some family there.:

"Right, just so! Do you think he'd make a good representative? There are a number of scandals associated with him already..."

[firmly, eyes sparkling]

:I can't think of another candidate who the Companions would support more. And really, what has the rest of the Court to say to it?:

"Oh, well, er..." Dellar hands the key out. "That seems very, ah, if you say so then that's a pretty strong indication of quality!"

:That was the right answer!:

[very amused; takes it and returns with a sparkle still in her eyes and a bit of a flag in the set of her tail]

[he's gotten one of his feet out successfully] Hello again! Aren't you in a fine mood?

:I got to put a couple of braggards in their place. Not something I get often around here... oh! You were able to get free!:

Thanks for getting me the key! It took some work but apparently was enough.

:Will this one be easier?:

[goes to return it to him]

Now that my other foot's free.

[he awkwardly maneuvers the key into the lock with his toes]

[that's impressive but she's not going to make any comments about it. just nods to him!]

:All right... now for the last one, I suppose...:

[turns to Gift!]

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 dais 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?"

[seeing Randale like that does kill her good mood a bit. droops slightly]

:Your Majesty.:

"Lady Yfandes!" He begins to get up in his surprise.

:No, no, don't rise for me--!:

[hastily goes to him]

He sits down again. "It's a pleasure to see you."

:And you, of course. I'm sorry, this is not-- this is not what I remember.:

"Well. It wouldn't be," he says ruefully.

:It would not. And Stef is helping your pain...?:

"He is," Randale says. "This session is taking a while though, I hope he's not overdoing it."

Re: Performance 2

Re: Performance 2

Re: Performance 2

Re: Performance 2

Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Re: Performance 3

Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1

Re: Gift 1