Remyngton/Logs/20220603 log

Written by:
Ruea, Ayrell, and Remyngton

Performed by:
Clairseach, Kintryn, Remyngton, and Wabrolus

Attended by:

         Vaddon          Tarklorin              Ikhar              Useff              Iryta          

Ikevindy

    Sfolstikena           Sonatina         Khearkrash               Dytt            Karsaak             Nawain
        Siendra           Stelling            Suberri            Elurora            Erisuka            Tichond
         Fiasko             Ezerak             Casari             Ayrell             Kaelie            Mazrian
         Delani             Hatham        Salvitoriel            Tankata             Dantia           Zalinyar
        Malkien             Zaryna             Rileos            Kethrai            Betlind             Akeiro
           Elec            Middler         Greyhallow            Parkons             Leayne            Aaiyaah
           Teyl

Just Six

A semi-circular stage is surrounded by rows of elegant seating while silver and blue embroidered curtains hang along the sides. Crystal sconces placed around the stage flicker with bright candlelight. Obvious exits: west.

(Ruea slips onto the stage with a smile, curtsying gracefully to the audience.)

Ruea says, "Hello! Welcome to the show and thank you all so much for coming and welcome to the first ever performance of "Just Six". This show was inspired by Remyngton Mason-Wells: Vadonis of Zawreli Zvaigne Dzirta and member of the Northern Watch,."

Ruea says, "Remy provided history and insight into the proud religious rituals of the Rakash, and with my dear friend Ayrell Evyntine we have created tonight's performance."

Ruea says, "Please relax and enjoy the performance, I hope you enjoy it."

(Ruea curtsys once more before quietly moving off the stage, the spotlight fading to darkness.)

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "The side stage slowly illuminates with a bright, sunny glow.
    Seated on a stone chair called from the earth, an Elder Rakash smiles at the circle of children in front of her.
    The children talk excitedly among themselves, the youthful chatter filling the room."

Clairseach calmly asks, "Alright, little cubs. It's time to settle, unless you don't want to hear my story tonight?"

Clairseach raises an eyebrow.

Clairseach smiles fondly as the children immediately fall silent, a few jostling one another as they get comfortable.

Clairseach says, "Tonight we will speak of the Gods. Mrod, as you know, is our True God and leader of the Grand Pack. Enelne is the Goddess of all natural things under the sky, like those butterflies you chase and the soul which grows within you. Coshivi is the god of the warriors, the hunters, and the Pack Chief."

(Clairseach pauses a moment, considering her next words thoughtfully before continuing)

Clairseach says, "To be Rakash, to be part of a Pack and give your offerings to our gods, is to knowingly live with a constant reminder of who we are and what we have survived. Our people are strong, and unlike others, we choose to be reminded of the pain and sacrifice of those who came before."

Clairseach frowns slightly, her expression stoic as she shifts her gaze over the faces of the six children seated around her.

Clairseach says, "To gain favor as a Rakash, one must travel to the Awksa Dzilvawta Ala outside of Siksraja."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "As the Elder continues her tale her voice begins to fade and the lights dim on the side stage.
    Slow lights rise on the center stage, provided by torches affixed to the dark stone walls of a cave.
    A stone shard sits in the center of the cave, as a lone Rakash approaches from the left."

(Remyngton moves cautiously, stepping onto the stage from the right, clutching a small statuette in his hands. As he moves towards center stage he glances around warily.)

(Remyngton pauses, placing the statue into a recess in the wall before kneeling, and quietly pulls some branches from his shoulder bag.)

(Remyngton arranges the wood to his liking, before lighting the pyre with a piece of black flint and a carving blade. The stage is now lightly illuminated by the firelight dancing off of make-shift cave walls.)

(Remyngton bows his head.)

Remyngton softly says, "I present this offering to Coshivi, the Warrior."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "The light of the fire grows brighter, the stone shard beginning to pulsate with a multi hued light.
     Stage lights continue to dim, the cave disappearing into shadow.
     A near-white light grows from the location of the statuette.
    The light builds until it consumes the stage, obscuring all else from sight."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "Without warning, the light is extinguished and all is plunged into blackness."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "A soft light reminiscent of an eclipse rises to unveil the scene of a battlefield upon what once was a grassy field,
    The lush greenery trampled underfoot of the Prydaen and Rakash warriors fighting valiantly against a gruesome army of undead
    That only grows in size with the addition of every living soldier who falls."

(Remyngton lifts his blade to block an incoming attack, slicing through his enemy with a spray of blood.)

(Remyngton pauses for the briefest of moments to wipe the sweat from his brow, the sound of battle continuing around him. With every clash of sword against bone, bone against flesh, the grimace on his face deepens, clearly pained by the horrific sights around him.)

Remyngton frowns intently, turning his head just in time to see one of his packmates fall at the cadaverous hands of an undead foe. No sooner does his packmate's body hit the ground, Remyngton watches it rise back up, a pair of cold, lifeless eyes staring back at him from what once was the face of a friend.

Remyngton sorrowfully says, "No..."

(Remyngton's protest is cut short as the weapon of his fallen friend rises to swing at him, leaving him no choice but to strike back.)

(Remyngton grimaces at the sound of his blade cutting through flesh as the body of his fallen packmate collapses in a heap.)

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "A single tear can be seen glistening from the warrior's cheek as he stands over the corpse
    Bowing his head as the lights fade to black."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "The stage is illuminated to reveal a field of golden flax ready for harvest.
    Several Rakash in human form hard at work as the sky begins to fade from the light of day
    Into the deepening shades of evening."

(Remyngton lifts his scythe over his head in preparation to give a powerful swing. Just as the blade is about to fall, he stops suddenly, his eyes going wide with fright.)

(Remyngton stumbles backward, nearly dropping his scythe as a decaying hand rises up from the ground in front of him. His face pales, unable to escape the bony fingers that grasp him around the ankle, a hard pull sending his body crashing to the ground with a heavy thud before he can catch himself.)

Remyngton screams!

(Remyngton twists his body in an effort to escape the skeletal being that maintains its relentless grip despite Remyngton's struggle to pull away, the tips of his fingers clawing desperately at the dirt, unable to make any progress forward.)

(Remyngton's face contorts in agony and horror, the terrified howls of his packmates echoing on the air with the pitch of his own anguished cries, feeling more than seeing the undead figure that has now risen from the ground to descend upon him.)

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "A chorus of pain-filled wails ring out as the skeletal creature lashes at Remyngton,
    The light on stage extinguished in an instant with a final blood-curdling scream that reverberates through the theater, a chilling echo of death."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "The stage grows dark once more, a swell of calming flute music filling the theater as the sunny lights rise on the side stage."

Clairseach says, "When we make our offering to the gods, they bless us with visions of our past. Some are tragic, some are violent, some are unusual. This is done to remind us of the cost that our ancestors have paid for us."

(Clairseach adjusts the robes around her shoulders as the children whisper to each other, looking afraid.)

Clairseach calmly says, "Nothing you see in the cave will hurt you or bring you harm. I know it can be frightening, even overwhelming, but to ask our Gods for their favor and blessing means we must accept that they have never forgotten the Pack that has suffered, and been lost, to violence and despair."

Clairseach says, "Coshivi, the Warrior, is expected to be harsh because it is the nature of battle, but some might assume Enelne to be softer and more gentle with her visions. This is a mistake, for as the Mother of us all, the pain she feels for the loss of her children cannot be measured."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "As the Elder tilts her head up to gaze skyward, the golden glow illuminating the side stage dims to nothing."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "The lights rise to reveal a stage set to resemble the remains of what once might have been a peaceful village,
    Burned out buildings and scattered ash.
    The only thing left in the wake of a massive explosion that appears to have destroyed nearly everything in sight,
    Save for a few crumbling foundations that managed to endure."

(Kintryn presses against the charred remnants of an old cottage that has been reduced to mostly rubble, ducking low to avoid notice as she watches the silhouette of a small, cloaked figure weave through a small gathering of undead in the streets, somehow managing to escape their notice.)

(Kintryn's brow furrows to see the figure stoop to pick something up from among the remains before turning on its heel to flee.)

(Kintryn waits for the gathering of undead to continue on before slipping from her hiding place, eyes searching the smoke and gloom to take in the destruction, cautious of her footing to avoid stepping on the battered and broken bodies that litter the ground.)

(Kintryn starts to take another step, her progress halted by the sight of an adolescent female among the dead. Kneeling down, she reaches toward the girl, so young, so innocent, a splay of youthful curls tumbling over her shoulders and to the ground.)

(Kintryn turns the body toward her, a small gasp of shock and horror escaping her to see the ragged claw marks etched along the young girl's face and body. Through her grief, Kintryn notices a small shard of familiar rock clutched in the child's tiny hand.)

A tear runs down Kintryn's face.

(Kintryn lifts the shard from the girl's hand, a choked sob escaping her as she holds the child close, cradling the tattered body in her arms.)

Kintryn sadly says, "Sleep peacefully, little one. Your courage," she pauses, drawing in a shaky breath, "Your sacrifice, it will never be forgotten."

(Kintryn continues to gently rock the child in her arms, weeping and mourning the loss of those around her as the lights fade out to leave the scene in a cloak of funereal darkness.)

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "The dim lights fade one by one, narrowing down to a single point over Kintryn before being extinguished entirely.
    A single violin plays a heart-rending song, its notes calling up feelings of pain and loss."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "As the song fades, the focus shifts to the side stage and its collection of children with the Elder teaching them.
    The light around them is warmer and more golden, reflecting against the beads and bracelets worn by the group."

Clairseach says, "The most important lesson in all of this is that our Gods love us so dearly that they refuse to forget or allow to be cast aside those who came before us. Their deaths were the result of cruelty and an imbalance in nature, which almost cost our people their survival."

Clairseach says, "As Enelne is the Goddess of all which grows in nature, Mrod is the god of the Pack and what grows within it. To have come so close to the total loss of the Pack weighs heavily on him, and those who seek his favor must be reminded of what happens when we are caught unawares."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "As the children lean into one another for comfort the scene grows dark again, the lights on the main stage revealing a brutal and smoke filled battle ground.
    Bodies in various stages of death and disarray are stacked on the stage, though some appear to be regaining their strength."

(Warbrolus ducks low to keep out of view, his horrified gaze locked on the sight of a necromancer surrounded by shambling undead hands. As he watches, he gasps, covering his mouth with his hand to muffle the sound, his expression twisted in grief to see the necromancer plunge a black dagger into the heart of the high priest.)

(Warbrolus continues to look on from his hiding place, anguish plain on his face as he watches the priest's blood drip onto the sacred rock upon which he lies, the liquid absorbed by the rock's surface as if the stone itself is drinking the gruesome substance.)

Warbrolus shivers with fear.

(Warbrolus observes with bated breath, seeing the moment the priest's final breath leaves him. At that moment, the ground begins to tremble violently, a powerful blast tossing Warbrolus to the ground as the stage goes suddenly dark.)

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "When the lights rise again, the stage reveals the remains of a destroyed village,
    Scattered with charred ashes of buildings that will never stand again."

(Warbrolus stands amidst the rubble, tears filling his eyes at the sight of what once was his childhood home, the scent of smoke and ash drifting along the air.)

A tear runs down Warbrolus's face.

(Warbrolus remains still for several moments, seeming to take in the sight around him as if to commit it to memory. Setting his jaw, he slings what meager belongings he was able to salvage onto his back and joins his packmates, giving one last look over his shoulder at the destruction before following the others off stage as the lights dim and then fade completely.)

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "As the lights rise upon the side stage once more, the golden tones are touched with shades of pink, red, and orange.
    The children shift restlessly, their eyes wide as they gaze up to their Elder."

Clairseach says, "Our people are known for our playful nature, and we value it. Be young and joyful as long as you can be, and live with pride in your heritage. These visions are not a punishment, but a reminder of why our Gods will allow us their six favors."

(Clairseach glances at the sky, the light beginning to fade from sunset hues to a lovely indigo shade. The children whisper for a moment before one finally gains the courage to stand and whisper in his Elder's ear.)

(Clairseach glances at the child and chuckles, nodding as they return to their seat)

Clairseach asks, "You want to know why we're allowed just six?"

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "No sooner has she finished speaking than the stage is plunged into a beautiful starlit scene, concealing the side stage entirely.
    The inky blue sky spreads past the stage, dappled with twinkling lights that make it seem like the theater roof has opened to reveal a beautifully illuminated night sky."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "After a long moment, three spotlights illuminate center stage.
    Their hue is soft and white, like palest moonlight.  A figure stands within each beam, gazing out at the audience."

Kintryn says, "Just six? Why just six I asked? Six seemed like such a small number of favors to gain from one's Gods."

Warbrolus says, "Just Six... Six times to witness the genocide of our people. Six times to bear the weight of our ancestor's suffering."

(Remyngton looks down the line at Warbrolus and Kintryn with a kind smile, his dimples flashing into view)

Remyngton says, "Just Six. Because we do not give our experiences to our gods to gain their favor. Our gods give us the experiences of those who came before us. We do not just observe what transpired as you all have done so today. No... We feel it..."

Warbrolus says, "All the fear."

Kintryn says, "All the pain."

Remyngton says, "All the sorrow and the grief. The pure hopelessness watching as the children are torn apart by what were once their mothers."

Warbrolus says, "The rage of being unable to help as young and old alike sacrifice themselves like lambs to the slaughter so the rest might escape."

Kintryn says, "I asked why just six..."

Remyngton says, "And to that we say..."

Warbrolus says, "Because six times is enough."

You hear a soprano voice chanting from the shadows:

   "As their words echo through the room, the starlight begins to fade, leaving only the moonbeams to illuminate the room.
    Without warning, the moonlight disappears as well, leaving the room in total darkness."

(Ruea returns to the stage with a bright smile and waves to the audience as the stage lights rise in front of the curtain.)

Ruea says, "Thank you all so much, I hope you enjoyed the show. We loved putting it on for you and getting to share the culture of the Rakash people."

Ruea grins wryly.

Ruea exclaims, "Now if you will allow me, let me introduce our actors!" Ruea exclaims, "Beginning with the role of our Elder, we have the wonderfully talented Clairseach!"

Clairseach curtsies.

Ruea exclaims, "Clairseach is the newest member of the Zawreli Zvaigne Dzirta pack and an amazing performer!"

Ruea looks at Clairseach and applauds!

Ruea grins.

Ruea exclaims, "Our next performer is the brave and bratty Kintryn!"

Kintryn curtsies.

Kintryn giggles.

Ruea says, "Taking on the role of a Favor Seeker she beautifully portrayed the pain of her role."

Ruea looks at Kintryn and applauds!

Ruea says, "Our next favor seeker was played by Warbrolus, who has volunteered for shirtless mud wrestling after the show."

Warbrolus waves.

Ruea says, "Oddly, no one asked him to but we're going to let it go."

Ruea shrugs.

Warbrolus bows.

Ruea looks at Warbrolus and applauds!

Warbrolus strikes a heroic pose.

Warbrolus throws his head back and howls!

Ruea exclaims, "And finally, please give your applause to Remyngton, who was the inspiration and driving force behind tonight's show!"

Remyngton bows.

Remyngton smiles, revealing the dimples in his cheeks.

Remyngton waves.

Clairseach beams at Remyngton!

Kintryn smiles at Remyngton.

Remyngton grins at Clairseach, his dimples flashing into view.

Remyngton winks at Kintryn.

Remyngton pats Warbrolus on the back.

Ruea says, "Remy is the leader of the Zawreli Zvaigne Dzirta pack and a member of the Northern Watch, and also in charge of Tankata for which they should be being paid."

Ruea looks at Remyngton and applauds!

Warbrolus looks at Remyngton and applauds!

Remyngton laughs!

Ruea grins.

Clairseach quietly asks, "What's a Tankata?"

Ruea says to Clairseach, "It's better not to know."

Remyngton quietly says to Clairseach, "My husband."

Clairseach covers her mouth with her hand.

Ruea exclaims, "Thank you all so much for attending, we'll see you in the lobby!"

Ruea waves.

Sylvan Lady Ruea saunters west, leading her group.