Chapter Text
Characters
THIOLLIER: A timid young man who specializes in poisons. Weak as a kitten and thick as two planks, he’s convinced that he’s of no use to anybody
MOORE: A stout young man with stilted speech and a close bond with the forager brood. He recently began nurturing a tender romantic relationship with THIOLLIER after convincing him to flee the reach of Needle Knight Leta’s wrath with him.
IGON: A grouchy, half-dead, old Dragon Communion warrior that MOORE and THIOLLIER find along the road and nurse back to health. Despite his winging, he refuses to give up.
BAYLE THE DREAD: A big, shitty drake that looks like a decimated chicken carcass. Traitor to his kind and nemesis of Igon.
CURSEBLADE: A masked warrior of the Shadow Realm. While their allegiance with the Scadtree and Hornsent is unquestionable, their exact machinations remain a mystery.
TOURMA: A simple Tarnished of no renown and consort to the Empyrean Princess Ranni.
ASIMI: A mimic tear who fights alongside TOURMA. Despite having no face of her own, she does have her own personality.
Act I – Scene 1
An unremarkable stretch of road through the Gravesite Plains in the Shadow Realm leading up to Suppressing Pillar. The sky is grey as ever.
THIOLLIER and MOORE walk along the road. While MOORE strides along confidently, THIOLLIER continuously glances behind them, nervous.
MOORE
Nearly there.
THIOLLIER
Thank goodness. Should Lady Leda find us- No. I cannot bear to even consider it.
MOORE
She won’t.
THIOLLIER
Or what if she comes after the Brood for harbouring us? If our flight were to bring them any harm-
MOORE
It won’t.
THIOLLIER
[He falls quiet for a moment.]
You’re certain they’ll accept me? Even though they’ve never met me?
MOORE
[He gives THIOLLIER a fond smile.] They will. Absolutely.
[An ear-piercing cry of agony suddenly splits the air.]
THIOLLIER
Eek! [He flinches and cowers.] She’s found us!
MOORE
I don’t think so. Someone in pain?
THIOLLIER
I surely hope not. One would have to be in unimaginable agony to let out such a wail.
[Another bone-rattling cry resounds.]
THIOLLIER
Ahhh! [He flinches again, as though their foes are falling upon them.]
MOORE
Look. Up ahead. Someone in the road.
[He points ahead of them along the road at a shuddering, blood mound.]
THIOLLIER
[Cowering behind MOORE, he peers over the larger man’s shoulder.]
Oh dear. How ever did you spot him? I’d mistaken him for a discarded pile of rags.
[The man lets out a third, equally horrendous cry.]
THIOLLIER
Oh…very well. We can’t rightly shut our ears to such suffering. Let us go to him.
[THIOLLIER and MOORE rush to the collapsed man’s side. Kneeling down, they attempt to divine the source of his suffering.]
THIOLLIER
Dear gods, the stench-
MOORE
Indeed.
THIOLLIER
-of blood! [He wretches at the gory stench emanating from the man.]
MOORE
Oh. Yes.
THIOLLIER
His leg is completely gone – torn clean off! Though this tourniquet has spared his life, the flesh is exposed. Even the bone…oh… [He nearly swoons.] My good man, what manner of beast has done this to you?
IGON
[Wailing and whimpering, he is broken and very near collapse. The adrenaline of pain is likely all that is keeping him conscious.]
THIOLLIER
Can you hear me? [Turning to MOORE.] He may well be too far gone to elucidate.
MOORE
[Peeling back various bits of IGON’s tattered garb, he attempts to not shred it completely while inspecting the man’s wounds.]
Arms, leg…all shattered. Mangled.
THIOLLIER
How does he yet live? Strange still, how did he escape the grasp of whatever left him in such a state?
IGON
[His cries of pain, which had begun to die down, pick back up from MOORE’s poking and prodding.]
MOORE
[Tries his best to carefully roll IGON over onto his back to inspect him further.]
IGON
[Bellows in horrifying agony.]
THIOLLIER
Oh, oh dear. Um, umm…!
[In a panic, he pulls out a perfume bottle of ether, uncorks it, and wafts the vapours towards IGON’s face.]
IGON
[After breathing the anesthetic, he falls promptly unconscious.]
MOORE
[Staring at the now unconscious stranger.] Now what?
THIOLLIER
I- Um, well… We can’t rightly leave him here, now that we’ve involved ourselves. W-We should take him somewhere safe, to better clean and dress his wounds. It would need to be nearby… Back aside the road, from whence we came, wasn’t there a hovel? Admittedly shabby and in poor repair, it would not be my first nor even my hundredth choice in richer times, but it would suffice. At the very least it will be better than leaving him to writhe in the filth of this dirt road.
MOORE
[Nodding in agreement, he picks IGON up bridal style and carries him back up the road.]
[The group exits stage left.]
Curtain