Turn 80 - Festival DayGronok, rather interested in what might be so special about this fire and the singing, decides to tap one of the singing people on the shoulder.
The person in question, a kindly, middle-aged woman, turns around and faces him.
"Oh, hello, sir! Have you come to join in for the Day of Flames? We have plenty of room around the fire, and one is always welcome to sing the praises of the True Goddess, even one without a tezeram to their name."* * * * *
Phiali, cautiously backing away from the suspiciously happy masked juggler, tries to explore the festival, becoming highly mindful of any nearby flaming objects.
After about half an hour of wandering about, he notices several things about the festival. Firstly, there's fire everywhere. Fire on every corner. Some people are juggling torches, and one guy is playing a harp on fire. After half an hour more of watching that guy, he comes to the conclusion that no, nobody takes their mask off during the festivities. Plus, playing a harp on fire is a surprisingly mesmerizing sight. In fact, that's another thing - Phiali can hear music all around him.
* * * * *
Shashari, quite tired of hanging around as usual, tries to reach her ankles and untie the knot.
[Untying roll: 1-->1]
Grumbling as she tries to reach the rope, she bends up, but finds herself seemingly physically incapable of reaching the rope. To be honest, she blames two things - not doing a warmup beforehand and sleeping in an uneven pile of straw on a dirt floor. That kind of thing is a killer for the spine. Not to mention that she has a feeling that she's getting a bit too old for this kind of thing, which is highly depressing.
However, as she reflects on this state of events, she does hear something - the area is not as silent as one might think. In fact, she thinks she hears something like... laughter? It's very distant and muffled, but she's pretty sure it's laughter. And when it stops just as suddenly as it must have begun, she becomes certain - an asshole most certainly inhabits these ruins. And whoever this asshole might be, it is aware of her presence.
* * * * *
Elizas understands that this situation has gotten rather uncomfortably tense. Luckily, he can administer cure - the sweetest cure of all, the power of rock.
[Vocal performance roll: 5+2]
Possessed by the urge to perform, Elizas frees himself of the engagement with the guard, then determinedly steps to the center of the room, brandishing his guitar with intent to amaze. He begins with a short, purely instrumental intro to get the people's attention, then begins a glorious riff accompanied by melodious vocal verses, a musical exploration of what makes a human being what they are, whether it is the love of self, the love of others, the love of God or the love of their respective craft. The audience forgets the presence of the women by the end of the first verse. By the end of the second it is obvious that they've forgotten everything else as well, including themselves.
As Elizas' music soars, so do the spirits of the people present, and many are stricken with the desire to dance freely. It is a wonderful spectacle, as Elizas can see that the power of music and artistic inspiration appears to have set free a part of their being one normally wouldn't see. It's transcendental, in a way. In fact, he hardly notices the passing of midnight, so absorbed he is in the plying of his trade. Finally, in the very latest hours of the night, he is quite done, finishing up his many-part rock symphony with a delightful outro, at the end of which he sinks to his knees, totally spent both physically and mentally. He notices that nobody has really moved too far out of the room - not the patrons, not the ladies of the night, not even his honored guests. To both him and them, this has been an
experience.
A good five minutes of roaring applause later, the crowd begins to leave, noticing the lateness of the hour. Elizas feels like he has truly accomplished something here, and that none of the people who entered this room left quite the same way. In addition, he, finally directing his gaze to the stage he currently rests on, notices a rather sizable pile of money in front of him. It takes a minute for him to register that these must be the tips - must be at least 100 tezerams in here.
Furthermore, he becomes aware of the owner passing him some money and making a comment - he doesn't entirely hear what it is, but he's sure it must be some form of congratulation.
* * * * *
Lars, rather disappointed at an absence of a flock to proselytize to, realizes that this is a problem that can most certainly be solved by shouting.
"FAITHFUL OF THE ONE TRUE GOD! COME FORTH, AS WE ARE VICTORIOUS! TOWNSPEOPLE, COME SEE WHAT HAS BECOME OF THE KEZILAM IMPOSTERS! BRING FUEL FOR A FIRE!" he yells to nobody in particular.
He notices several heads poke out of homes in the village. The heads of women and children, in fact, who were conspicuously absent in the attack on the temple. Lars isn't sure if they count as faithful or just rubberneckers, though. As for actual faithful, some people in the temple appear to have heard him, too, particularly after a whole bunch of indoor repetitions. About twenty male villagers emerge from the depths of the temple.
"So, we won? That sure is a relief. So, when does the debauchery begin? And what's this about a fi- hey, what're the priests doing here?"Gronok: 3 MP
Phiali: 1 MP
Shashari: 5 MP
Elizas: 3 MP
Lars: 4 MP
Author
Topic: Prophets of the New God: most unfortunately dropped. (Read 72256 times)