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(Gravel crunching as Arthur begins to run.)
YORICK: Master!
ARTHUR: We're running, (breath) I'm not letting that thing get anywhere near us.
JOHN: To your left, Arthur, there's a curve in the road.
YORICK: If we must run, Master, then we should leave the path, and instead run through the grass.
ARTHUR: And then what? Get lost in the fog and loose the road?
YORICK: I will guide you back to it.
JOHN: I- He might actually be right, that thing will come looking for us along the road.
ARTHUR: Ok, ok, to the right then.
(Arthur quickly pivots.)
JOHN: There's a ditch, be careful when you- (A shrill screech)
YORICK: Quickly!
(Repetitive thuds. Arthur makes noises of pain.)
JOHN: (barking): Arthur! (More thuds. Arthur groans in pain.) Arthur. (Concerned.) Arthur! Are you okay?
ARTHUR: (muffled): Fine, fine. (He spits. A shrill screech.) We just need to keep running.
[CLICK]
[SLOW FOOTSTEPS MARCH THROUGH DAMP GRASS]
[A SHRILL SHRIEK SOUNDS FROM FAR AWAY]
MARTIN
Did- Did you hear that?
ARCHIVIST
Yes... I-
[A FAINT STATIC RISES]
[THE ARCHIVIST SCOFFS IN DEFEAT]
ARCHIVIST
I don't Know what it is. Maybe that's a good thing.
MARTIN
Hey, take it easy on your powers, you're barely standing-
ARCHIVIST
Which is precisely why we need to keep moving and find a village or- yeah, just, civilization. [under breath] or some scumbag.
MARTIN
How do we even know there's other people in this world? Maybe we got... Maybe the Fears got unlucky and-
ARCHIVIST
No, there's people. I, we wouldn't have survived if the Fears were being starved.
MARTIN
...Right.
[A BRIEF PAUSE AS MARTIN BREATHES IN AND LOOKS AROUND]
Does this place- no, that's a stupid question, [with venom] of course this place looks exactly like the Lonely.
ARCHIVIST
[Reassuring] You're not alone this time.
MARTIN
[Fond] No, I'm not.
[SILENCE, SANS THE SOUND OF THE TWO WALKING THROUGH THE GRASS]
[RUSTLING FROM FAR AWAY, THE SOUND SLOWLY GROWING NEARER]
STRANGER
[Very faint] Shut the fuck up, Yorick.
[SMALL GASP FROM MARTIN]
[CONTINUED FAINT MUMBLING]
MARTIN
[Thrilled] A person, an actual person, John!
[MUMBLING ABRUPTLY STOPS]
ARCHIVIST
Whoever he is doesn't sound particularly friendly...
MARTIN
This stupid fog- [SOUNDS OF A FRUSTRATED MARTIN] Can't see a thing.
ARCHIVIST
[Whispering] He's gone silent, he knows we're here and doesn't want to us to know that he is, he can't be good news.
MARTIN
[Whispering as well] Sounds like a propper 'scumbag'.
ARCHIVIST
[Whispering] Martin-! I'm not going to-
MARTIN
[Whispering] Who else then?
ARCHIVIST
[Taken aback] I-
MARTIN
[Whispering] Listen, I hate even thinking about that just as much as you-- but I can't take seeing you like this. What if we don't run into anyone else for a few days? Would you even make it?
[SILENCE]
STRANGER 2: (Far away) I can't. I won't.
JOHN: Arthur! We were just running from something and now you're heading straight for these people!?
YORICK: The King makes a point, Master.
ARTHUR: (shushing) They could be... Helpful. (In the distance, the second stranger says "There's three of them")
JOHN: Helpful like Kellin? Frank? Larson?
ARTHUR: Helpful like Oscar. Like Noel, hell-- like Collins.
JOHN: I'd rather we not purposefully run into someone like Collins.
ARTHUR: You get my point.
JOHN: They've stopped talking.
ARTHUR: If we shout for them that will just draw the creature's attention to us, we'll have to look for them. John?
JOHN: I can't see shit, the fog is too heavy. (The pair of strangers whisper to the right of them)
ARTHUR: Ah!
JOHN: Yes, this way-- I'm starting to see them! They- Jesus Christ, Arthur-
ARTHUR: What?
JOHN: There's two of them, a skinny one and a bigger one, they're wearing tattered clothes not from this time, and they're covered in old blood. The taller one is intimidating, he almost seems to blend into the fog, almost like they were one. The front of his sweater is smeared with blood, the cuffs of his sleeves, his shoulders, and the side of his head is stained dark as well. The thin man looks gaunt, under a light jacket he dons a dark green sweater stained with blood and torn almost as if he was stabbed in the heart. Christ- Arthur, this was a bad idea. He's... looking at the both of us.
ARTHUR: Who are you?
STRANGER 2: Who are you?
ARTHUR: A-Arthur Lester. Wh- How-
JOHN: John Doe. I- (mutual sounds of confusion)
STRANGER 1: Jon! (John gasps in confusion) I just told you that you need to-
JON: Shit- I didn't- (pause) Sorry you... Three?
JOHN: Three? Can he-
YORICK: It appears this stranger can hear, and possibly see you, my King. (Stranger 1 gasps)
JON: Wh- (grunt of annoyance), (to the other stranger) Can you ask the questions, dear?
STRANGER 1: Hey! Hello! So sorry to trouble you, uhm, Arthur, talking skull, and ...imperceivable king. But do you know where we are?
JOHN: The one in the blue sweater is shrinking in on himself, trying to look less intimidating, it's working well all things considered. The short one, I think his name is also John-- Is just... Staring at us, this man is not human Arthur, he- He's stopped staring, I suppose he really can hear me.
ARTHUR: My questions first. Who are you two? What the hell was that just then? Why is there so much blood on you? ...Did Kayne send you?
STRANGER 1: ...Fine, I'm Martin, this is Jon, m-
JON: The Archivist.
JOHN: He's looking for a reaction in us, I don't know what that title means, he seems... Content with that.
MARTIN: Yes, The Archivist, we've been uh... Traveling for a while and some stuff happened...
ARTHUR: "Stuff" is an awfully vague explanation for your current state.
MARTIN: Well it's a long, LONG story, and you really wouldn't believe it anyway-
YORICK: My Master has a fractured piece of an Old Great One in his mind, (a small 'oh!' from Martin) he would, in fact, believe you.
ARTHUR: (through clenched teeth) Thank you, Yorick.
YORICK: Of course, Master.
MARTIN: Well, then, uhm... Long story short we died? Kind of? We're not ghosts or zombies or anything like that- (awkward laugh) And we ended up here?
ARTHUR: So you two died... and just... appeared in thirteenth century England?
JOHN: The two of them look rightfully surprised at that, they're exchanging confused glances.
ARTHUR: Did you... Make a deal with anyone before you two died? Or before you ended up here?
JON: No, not that I can recall. Now, it's our turn for the questions.
ARTHUR: Oho, no it's not. What the fuck did you do to us earlier?
JON: Ah, right, apologies for that...
JOHN: Well?
JON: Compulsion, I can make people answer questions, I don't have great control over it when- ...When I'm weak. Now, our questions.
(A long pause filled only by whispers)
JOHN: He's whispering into Martin's ear, it seems like he-
ARTHUR: -Doesn't want to do that thing again.
JON: Not if I can help it.
MARTIN: Right, to the both of you apparently, not Yorick though, sorry. (A small ahem) Uhm, who are you, what are you doing in thirteenth century England, who is in your mind, how did you two end up like this, what is Yorick, do you serve a Patron, and... (Jon whispers the final question to Martin) Right, How the hell do we get out of these fields.
ARTHUR: My name is Arthur Lester, (He taps his left hand (not that it made a noise or anything i just needed to put that in here))
JOHN: Oh- Right! I'm John Doe.
JON: Your uh... friend said you were a... "Fractured piece of an Old Great One"?
YORICK: That is correct. My King is- (His voice is muffled by Arthur shoving him into the bag)
JOHN: Yes, I a- was The King in Yellow.
JON: Fascinating...
MARTIN: Oh...
ARTHUR: ...You know who he is?
JOHN: Arthur, no offence but these are two mysterious figures that appeared looking like walking corpses out of the fog, we really shouldn't be surprised they know who he is.
MARTIN: I recognise the name, I'm sure Jon knows more about all that stuff than I do, I've always been more of a poetry guy.
JON: You haven't read it? There's some lovely poetry in it, you know. The second half-
ARTHUR: Sorry, read?
JON: Ah, right, sorry. Where we come from, where I recognise the name, "The King in Yellow" is a book. I read it while on a brief cosmic horror stint some years ago.
ARTHUR: I-
JOHN: What does it say about him? What do you know about Kayne- er, Nyarlathotep? The Blackstone?
ARTHUR: John-
JOHN: If he's telling the truth he could know exactly what could be going on, Arthur.
JON: I'm afraid it won't be of much help, John. (Fabric shifting), In the book the "King in Yellow" is simply a play that drives those who read it mad, there isn't much on the King himself. As for Nyarlathotep... If I remember correctly he's a shapeshifter who delights in causing madness in others, he was described as tall, and typically wore all black. (Arthur and John quietly curse his name) I'm not sure what the blackstone is (small chuckle), I've never heard of it.
ARTHUR: (Breath) ...Does he have a daughter?
JON: (Sucking air through teeth) Er... I think in some stories he does? Not sure what her name is, I never researched all that deeply on him, sorry again.
ARTHUR: No need, thank you.
MARTIN: So... the fog? Do you know the way out?
ARTHUR: Ah, yes... (Rustling of worn leather as Arthur retrieves Yorick)
JOHN: (Disgruntled sigh)
MARTIN: (Noises of polite discontent)
ARTHUR: He'll-
YORICK: I shall lead the way, back to the path, Master.
ARTHUR: ...Yes, that.
JON: (Quiet, to Martin) Not the worst thing we've had to do...
MARTIN: (Unhappy hum of agreement)