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| Nifilhema's Tear |
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a play in three acts
as written by Lendren Starfall

Being an account of the events of the 102nd year after the coming of Estarra,
concerning the tragedy to befall a little fae girl at the hands of Erion
Faeshade, and her redemption from an unlikely source, a tear shed by a Demon
Lord in memory of a song of sublime beauty and power.

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Cast
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Elohora, Lady of Light: Supreme Holy Supernal of Celestia.
Erion Faeshade: a young Celestine of New Celest.
Fae Girl: an innocent fae girl dwelling in Faethorn.
Japhiel, Illuminator of Merciful Justice: a Holy Supernal.
Laysus, Caedryn, Gregori, Hayden: Dancers of the Moon Coven.
Luna, Selene, Albion: the Avatars of Mother Moon.
Valek Feyranti: an Ur'guard of Magnagora.
Nifilhema, Queen of Insufferable Cruelty: a Demon Lord of Nil.
Warlord Chade d'Illici: Warlord of Magnagora.
various Celestians, Serens, and fae of Faethorn

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Production Notes
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In the interest of producing this play with a limited number of actors, it is
recommended that the following sets of roles each be played by a single actor.

- Erion, Valek, Caedryn
- Gorgulu, Japhiel, Chade, Hayden
- Elohora, Nifilhema, Luna
- Fae Girl, Selene

In addition, the roles of Albion, Gregori, and Laysus may be performed by
actors who also serve other unnamed and minor roles. The absolute minimum
number of actors necessary to produce this play is seven, but nine or ten is
recommended. (Several additional roles are portrayed via illusions.)

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Dedication
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This play is dedicated to the brave Moondancers, Hartstone, and Serenguard who
bent their efforts to the aid of one helpless little girl.

Thanks are due to Laneth, Yini, Anaria, Nejii, Laysus, Hiriako, Iraen, and many
others who helped the playwright with research and preparation of this play.

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Act I Scene I - Before the Throne of Brilliance
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Silvery moonlight intensifies, reflecting off all available surfaces and
growing strangely colorless. Soon a blinding white glow washes out all other
impressions.

The white glow resolves as reflections off shining alabaster and marble columns
carved with cherubs and angels, shining suits of golden armor, and a gleaming,
carved throne.

ENTER Elohora, from backstage.

Elohora: steps to the throne, her shining white robes swirling around her
giving off a nearly blinding light, and perches majestically on the throne.

Elohora: "Who comes seeking wisdom?"

ENTER Erion, from within the audience.

Erion: steps forward, his gaze locked on the visage before him, the gleaming
light shining off his awestruck eyes.

Erion: "It is I, Erion Faeshade, of the Celestines. I beseech you for wisdom,
Elohora, Lady of Light. The Star Council leads New Celest in war against the
forces of Taint. Magnagora strikes deep within our stronghold, but we remain
strong and have restored the Star of Celest. We seek revenge, but we must slay
the Demon Lords of Nil, those Tainted beings that once were the Holy Emanations
of Shallamar."

Elohora: seems to be staring through, or perhaps merely past, the figure before
her, showing no sign she hears his words.

Erion: "How may Gorgulu be slain?"

Elohora: "The Devourer grows stronger when he feeds, but if he is utterly
sated, he will become bloated in his gorge, and briefly weakened."

Erion: grows visibly excited and begins to pace before the throne.

Erion: "How may we feed Gorgulu?"

Elohora: stares forward, her eyes seeming unfocused, gleaming with a bright
white light.

Erion: grows agitated and impatient, turning to stare at the throne with a
burning intensity. He clenches his fists, anger plain on his face, barely
contained.

Erion: "What does Gorgulu eat?"

Elohora: "The Devourer relishes the bodies of the fae, converting them into
imps of Nil."

Erion: whirls to look into the distance, a faraway look in his eyes.

Erion: "That's it. All we need to do then is to feed Gorgulu the bodies of the
fae. It almost seems too easy."

Elohora: rises from her throne, apparently oblivious to the figure before her.

Erion: "That's all we have to do? Kill the fae, and feed them to Gorgulu?"

Elohora: strides out of the hall with a regal bearing, the light seeming to
follow her.

EXIT Elohora, to backstage.

Erion: "Will that be sufficient, Lady of Light?"

Erion: turns to look at the throne and notices that it is empty, but does not
seem discouraged. He rubs his hands together eagerly, chuckling in a manic
tone.

Erion: "I must speak to the Star Council. Prince Rhysus will surely support
this, even if weaklings blanch at antagonizing the sniveling Serens. The fae
will offer little resistance to the rising of the Light!"

Erion: turns and lopes off, a dark bloodlust reflected in the fading light in
his eyes.

EXIT Erion, to backstage.

Following the retreating figure, a reddish pall colors the gleaming white
light, fading to rust-brown as the murky shapes of throne and columns disappear
into the rising dark.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - A Misguided Assumption
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Erion Faeslayer, striving for might,
Hears what he wants to, blinded by Light;
Out of his error is born the fae's plight.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Act I Scene II - A flip-flopped fountain in Faethorn
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Slowly a soft gurgling sound becomes audible, a slow, lifeless trickle of
water. A fountain tilted on its side can be seen, though it seems to be
spurting blood, not water, sideways into the air.

The trees cling to one another, bending in as if embracing each other to form a
sheltered grove. An unnatural reddish light, as bloody sunset, dimly
illuminates the small hiding place within.

ENTER Fae Girl, from backstage.

Fae Girl: creeps in, crouching, clutching a nervous rabbit tightly in her arms.
She looks over her shoulder, shaking in fear, her small pointed ears twitching.

Sounds of clashing steel ring out from somewhere nearby, accompanied by subdued
groans of agony and occasionally a wet thud, as of a body falling into mud.

Fae Girl: drops to her knees and curls up into a ball, looking in terror at
unseen horrors. Wherever she turns her gaze, she flinches in distress and
turns her eyes away, only to find more bloodshed.

ENTER a fae knight and a paladin, from the bower.

Fae Knight: retreats swiftly, his swords in a flurry of parries as blow after
blow rends his shining silver armor.

Fae Knight: "Mother Moon, protect us!"

Paladin: advances, his golden blades biting time and again through his foe's
armor, coming away bloody.

Fae Girl: watches the carnage in silent horror as it passes swiftly before her.

EXIT fae knight and paladin, to backstage.

Fae Girl: "Why do the bad men hurt us?"

Fae Girl: tries to soothe the rabbit in her arms, which squirms anxiously.

Fae Girl: "Don't worry, we'll be safe here, they won't never never ever find
us."

Wings fluttering excitedly, a pixie rushes past the grove with an
uncharacteristic purposefulness.

ENTER Erion, from backstage.

Erion: conjures an infinitesimally small mote of cosmic fire, then directs it
at a pixie, who falls to the ground with a tiny cry of pain.

Erion: scoops up the corpse of the pixie, his expression gleeful and malicious
as the fae's blood trickles over his fingers.

Fae Girl: holds perfectly still, staring at the man just outside her hiding
place, paralyzed.

The sounds of battle nearby intensify, as if hundreds of swords and shields are
clashing, then with a chorus of agonized cries, falls suddenly silent.

Erion: looks around, seeking a new target, then just as he's about to bound
off, stops and turns to look straight into the hiding place.

Fae Girl: "Please, bad man, leave me alone. Who will care for my rabbit?"

Erion: laughs malevolently as he takes a few steps towards the girl, an
infinitesimal mote of cosmic fire forming between his cupped hands.

As the mote of fire leaps towards the girl, the rabbit leaps from her hands and
bounds off into the brush, narrowly avoiding being trapped under the girl's body
as it falls to the ground with preternatural silence.

Erion: "For the Light!"

Erion: gathers up the corpse with casual disregard, then turns and runs off
hurriedly.

EXEUNT to backstage.

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Interlude - Lost In The Woods
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Lords of light and water, you have lost your way.
Seeking power and glory, the innocent you slay.
Arrogance your poison, now as yesterday.

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Act I Scene III - Den of a Thousand Abominations
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A faint snarling sound grows from silence, perceived long before it's noticed
consciously, filling the air with a slippery feeling of menace.

Shadows twist and writhe as if cast by an unseen, tortured fire, a larger one
resolving into a seething, amorphous mass, surging with corruption, filth, and
tainted putrescence.

Gorgulu, the Devourer of Souls lumbers aimlessly, his bloated, shifting flesh
festering and bubbling, eyes roving with searching intensity, as a chorus of
voices from a dozen mouths chant in unison, "I hunger!"

ENTER Erion from the bower, leading a small host of Celestians.

Erion: strides towards the shifting form, his bearing proud despite the heavy
burden of corpses born by him and the host of Celestians he leads.

Gorgulu, the Devourer of Souls says, "What brings the hosts of Light here? You
are unwelcome, Erion Faeshade, unless you mean to be my feast."

The shapeless blob snarls, raising horrific hands festooned with mismatched
claws, and covered in shifting, jostling mouths ringed with slavering fangs.

Erion: "We bring you food, Devourer of Souls!"

Erion: holds up the bloody corpse of a small fae girl, proferring it withh
outstretched arm.

Gorgulu, the Devourer of Souls pauses in his menacing shuffle forward, sniffing
the air with a multitude of diseased orifices, then nods eagerly and opens
dozens of gaping maws.

Some of the Celestians watch with grave doubts and a growing repugnance, but
dutifully pass forward their burden of dead fae, a stream of carrion focused on
Erion as he passes the grisly prizes on to Gorgulu.

Countless mouths on the amorphous horror tear the corpses noisily to pieces,
causing a terrible mess of scattered limbs and spattered blood, though somehow
despite the chaos every bit of flesh somehow finds its way into one of the many
shifting gullets with a wet slurping.

Erion: continues passing the corpses of fae to the ravenous beast, his eyes
gleaming with excitement as the sounds of consumption grow louder.

As each corpse is devoured, the shifting, festering mass swells, growing larger
and darker, with more maws and talons sprouting from unseen places.

Erion: passes the last of the fae corpses to Gorgulu, silently gesturing to the
Celestians behind him, who ready their weapons expectantly as they watch the
last corpse being devoured.

Gorgulu, the Devourer of Souls swallows the last of the fae in one eager gulp,
then turns with hungry eyes to the people gathered before him and howls, "I
hunger!"

Erion: looks back at the men behind him, with only a moment's uncertainty on
his features, before waving them to the attack.

Erion: "For the Light!"

With a loud clash, the Celestians charge, bringing a pelting storm of blows,
cosmic fire, and coruscating magical energies to bear.

Now grown to an enormous size, the shadowy agglomeration of flesh begins to
swipe massive, sharp talons and blood-drenched clubs of bone and skin breaking
and shattering body after body.

Before the attacking horde can organize a retreat, all have fallen save their
leader, who is surrounded by a dozen bloody, clawed protuberances, as more tear
apart the bodies of the other fallen and devour them.

Erion: "But... but... the fae were supposed to..."

Gorgulu, the Devourer of Souls tears the puny figure before him into shreds
with a sudden flurry of motion, gathering the corpse up with a deep, booming
laugh. "I hunger!"

EXEUNT to backstage.

The swirling shadows swell, enfolding all within, concealing the sound of a
shuffling departure.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - The Price Of Pride
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The price of their folly has now come to pass,
The Demon Lord strengthened, not sated, alas;
But what is to come of the little fae lass?

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Act II Scene I - A flip-flopped fountain in Faethorn
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With an uneven sputtering, a gurgling sound becomes audible. Gradually a
sideways fountain is illuminated in silvery light, tinged with red, its
impossibly gravity-defying flow occasionally interrupted, as if by some kind of
blockage.

ENTER Gregori, Laysus, Caedryn, Hayden, and other Serens, from backstage.

Gregori: lopes past the fountain, leading a small crowd behind him, his eyes
roving the area.

Gregori: "She struggles upon the wheel of life and death; the Fates must have
restored her by now."

Hayden: "What should we do, Gregori?"

Gregori: "Spread out and search for her. She may need our help."

Laysus: "Let's split up."

The searchers spread out into the forest, their eyes wandering.

EXEUNT into the bower.

ENTER Fae Girl, from backstage.

Fae Girl: creeps along the avenue, shaking nervously, her eyes darting warily
at every flicker of shadow.

Fae Girl: stops suddenly, looking at the fountain as if it is a threat, then
whirls around to stare back down the avenue.

ENTER Laysus, from backstage.

Laysus: hurries past, then stops and does a double-take, his eyes focusing on
the girl, speaking in a low, reassuring voice.

Laysus: "Shhhh, I won't hurt you. What... what's happened to you?"

Fae Girl: sneers a little as she backs away a few steps.

Laysus: yells, "I found her, near the flip-flopped fountain. Come quickly."

Laysus: "Are you in pain? What's wrong?"

Fae Girl: cackles a mischievious laugh, darting playfully away.

ENTER Caedryn, from the bower.

Caedryn: "Where is she, Laysus?"

ENTER Hayden, from backstage.

Laysus: creeps slowly closer, peering carefully at the little girl and
gesturing to point her out.

Caedryn: "Are those... horns?"

ENTER Gregori, from the bower.

Hayden: "The touch of the Taint is on her, Caedryn."

Gregori: "Yes, Hayden. She passed through the bowels of Nil. Little wonder."

Laysus: "There must be a means to save her."

Gregori: "Perhaps, Laysus, but if there is, we must find it quickly. If she
completes the transformation, there may be no way to reverse it."

Fae Girl: skips playfully away from the others, her skin darkening as horns
peek out from beneath her hair.

Laysus: "But what could it be?"

The Serens exchange thoughtful glances, frustration mounting, through a long
pause.

Gregori: "We'll have to search.... everywhere."

Hayden: "For what?"

Gregori: "I don't know. Maybe we'll know it when we see it."

Fae Girl: "I'm hungry."

(Serenwilde) Gregori says, "Serens, it falls to us to save the little fae girl
from the touch of Taint. Spread out across the Basin, across the planes, leave
no place unexplored."

The light dims everywhere, then a shaft of moonlight falls upon an isolated
mountainside, wispy clouds wafting by on an icy breeze.

EXIT Fae Girl, to backstage.

Hayden: strains to climb the jagged side of an escarpment, his fingers scraped
raw as he peers into every crevice.

As the light fades over the mountainside, another moonbeam illuminates a dark,
twisted forest, choked with vines and webs.

EXIT Hayden, to backstage.

Laysus: bats clinging thorns aside as he pushes his way through the choking
overgrowth, crouching to look under bushes and inside webs.

Darkness falls on the corrupted forest as another brightening reveals a
churning ocean, its depths filled with shadowy moving shapes.

EXIT Laysus, to backstage.

Caedryn: fights against tossing waves, ducking his head under one of the larger
swells, before diving deep into darkness.

A shadowy wave drives away the light, while another beam of light shines on a
burning expanse of desert.

EXIT Caedryn, to backstage.

Gregori: trudges tiredly across the endless desert, pausing to examine a gleam
on the sands before shaking his head disappointedly and moving along.

Darkness falls, bringing silence with it.

EXIT Gregori, to backstage.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - A Fruitless Search
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The little girl's darkness now running its course,
No hope find the Serens of any recourse;
But answers may come from an unlikely source.

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Act II Scene II - The Divine Court of Immaculate Judgements
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A luminescent glow slowly swells to fill the air, a piercing light that
threatens to expose guilt and illuminate innocence. In its center, a bench of
pure white, flanked by gilded statues, looms with an imposing bulk.

ENTER Japhiel, from offstage.

Japhiel: strides purposefully to his place behind the bench, peering out at the
witnesses with a canny gaze that seems to pierce all secrets.

ENTER Gregori, Laysus, Caedryn, and Hayden, from the bower.

Gregori: hesitantly enters, engaged in animated conversation with his
companions.

Gregori: "But we've searched everywhere we know to search, Hayden."

Hayden: "I'm just saying it was one of these Holy Supernals of Celestia that
caused this mess in the first place, Gregori."

Laysus: "No, it was Erion and New Celest that caused this."

Caedryn: "And Gorgulu."

Laysus: nods in agreement.

Hayden: "But at the prompting of a Holy Supernal. Why would one help us now,
and how could we trust if he did?"

Gregori: "Some of the Celestians claim Erion misunderstood Elohora somehow,
mistook some juxtaposition of statements for a connection."

Laysus: "Hayden has a point, we can never expect to trust any of them."

Caedryn: "Do we have an alternative?"

Gregori: "I don't think so, Caedryn. We listen to what this Japhiel has to say
and then we judge it ourselves."

Japhiel: "Judgment is rooted in wisdom."

The Serens, now almost to the bench, turn in surprise at this interjection,
clearly having not noticed the observer of their conversation.

Japhiel: "Have you wisdom enough to judge?"

Gregori: looks at his companions for a moment before turning to the shining
figure behind the bench.

Gregori: "We seek the wisdom of your judgment, Illuminator of Merciful Justice.
A fae girl was amongst those taken to Nil--"

Japhiel: "I am cognizant of the proceedings and events hitherto. What is the
precise matter on which you seek my counsel?"

Laysus: "We seek a means of stopping and reversing the girl's transformation."

Caedryn: "We have tried every ritual we know, and none of them has had any
effect."

Japhiel: "This might have been foreseen. The cosmic powers of Nil are alien to
the magic of the Fae. We must adjudicate the matter of jurisdiction."

Hayden: furrows his brow, frowning.

Gregori: "The fae fall within the jurisdiction of Queen Maeve."

Japhiel: "Verily, but her transformation progressively removes her from that
jurisdiction, to what bailiwick?"

Gregori: purses his lips thoughtfully.

Laysus: "She seems to be turning into an imp."

Japhiel: opens his tome and glances at it only briefly before closing it again.

Japhiel: "Imps are the province of Nifilhema, Queen of Insufferable Cruelty.
Only by her power can the transformation be reversed."

Gregori: groans.

Hayden: "She would never be willing to aid us!"

Japhiel: again opens his tome, perusing it for a longer time while flipping
pages before closing it again.

Japhiel: "Nifilhema bears a relationship with Gorgulu that is rife with
precedent. Before the Taint, Gorgulu was King Gorgalial, and Nifilhema was his
queen. Eyewitness reports corroborate assertions that they doted on one
another."

Japhiel: "Beneath the scarring of the Taint lies some remnant of the loving
spirit of Queen Nifilhema; that spirit can be cultivated and captured if you
can coax from her one true tear, but beware; no false tear of twisted pain will
possess the pure power of healing that will bring the fae girl's corruption to
an adequate cessation."

Gregori: "But how can we get her to cry?"

Japhiel: "Judgment is rooted in wisdom. You must understand her, in order to
judge what is in her heart, and what will bring it out. Your trial will be in
finding an adjudication of her trial."

In the distance, a little girl's tortured wailing, fading into a twisted snarl
half of pain and half of anger, cuts through the silence, causing the Serens to
crane their necks seeking the sound.

Laysus: "It's happening."

Gregori: "We must make haste."

EXEUNT the Serens, back to the bower.

Japhiel: "May the Light show them the way."

EXIT Japhiel, to backstage.

Another tortured cry, fading into a whimper, drains the light from the air,
dousing it in colorless shadow.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - Time's March
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What could bring a true tear from a creature who loves pain?
The Serens search for wisdom the Great Spirits might make plain,
But every turn of time's wheel threatens, will it be in vain?

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Act II Scene III - Before burial mounds
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A waxing crescent moon rises, a slender sickle of silver, to illuminate a
clearing in the woods marked by small, grass-topped hillocks stippled with
standing stones.

ENTER Gregori, from backstage.

Gregori: steps reverently up to the barrows, with a twittering sparrow on his
arm.

The sparrow leaps from Gregori's arm and alights upon the cairn, warbling a
complex melody.

Silvery figures arise up from the burial mounds, slowly coming forward to
listen to the song, bowing their ghostly heads. One raises his translucent
hand in greeting.

The translucent spirit says, "Thank you for the song of our past. It brings me
joy to know we are remembered. Do you come bringing us an offering?"

Gregori: "Chuchip, Great Spirit of the Seren, can you tell me what can bring a
true tear to the eye of the Queen of Insufferable Cruelty?"

The ancestral spirit gazes off into the forest around him, his brow creased in
a frown. "Only the full light of Mother Moon reveals secrets so deep."

ENTER Laysus, Caedryn, and Hayden from the bower.

Laysus: "Time is running out. The transformation is nearly complete; she
speaks in malice of pain, and grows a tail now to match her horns. Tell me you
have the answer."

Gregori: "Chuchip says such a question's answer can only be seen in the full
light of Mother Moon."

The translucent spirit bows his head somberly and says, "We cannot stay
longer," as he and the others fade into the burial mounds.

Hayden: "But the full of Mother Moon is ten days away!"

Laysus: strokes his chin thoughtfully.

Gregori: "Perhaps there is some other means to find what would bring a true
tear."

Caedryn: "We have exhausted every idea we could find before reaching this
point!"

Laysus: "Perhaps Mother Moon will smile for us sooner if we... ask."

Gregori: "Do you think that's possible?"

Laysus: "We have nothing to lose by asking. Quickly, let us circle."

The four figures gather into a circle, holding hands, and begin to murmur as
they engage in a complex spiral dance, the circle winding in and out of itself,
while chanting the names, "Luna, Selene, Albion."

ENTER Luna, Selene, and Albion, from the bower.

The three figures arrive with their hands linked in a circle, their spiral
movements echoing the dance of the four men.

Laysus: "Luna, maiden of youth, we beseech you in the name of the Moon Coven!"

Hayden: "Selene, fertile mother, we beseech you in the name of the Moon Coven!"

Caedryn: "Albion, frigid crone, we beseech you in the name of the Moon Coven!"

Gregori: "Mother Moon, bless us with your shining silver grace! We need your
blessing in service of our charges, though the time is not yet ripe. We
beseech you in the name of the Moon Coven!"

Luna: "All things must have a beginning, born in promise, slender with the hope
of growth."

Albion: "All things must have an end, waning to nothing, that new growth may
follow."

Selene: "All things must have a middle, swelling to fullness, ripe with
fecundity, shining with wisdom."

Shifting beams of moonlight brighten, slanting at changing angles through the
branches of the trees, until the full, shining face of Mother Moon appears
overhead, her silver glow driving away all shadows.

Caedryn: "We did it! Thank you, Mother Moon!"

Laysus: "We must not waste this chance, we do not know how long it will last."

Gregori: unlinks hands with his neighbors as the spiral dance ends, then bows
in thanks to the shining avatars.

EXIT Luna, Selene, and Albion, to the bower.

Gregori: turns and darts hurriedly off into the distance.

EXIT Gregori, to backstage.

Laysus: fidgets while waiting, eyes on the shining face of Mother Moon.

ENTER Gregori, from backstage.

Gregori: hurries to the barrow, a twittering songbird on his arm and a shining
golden set of antlers cradled in his hands.

The sparrow's melody awakens again the translucent spirits, one of whom asks,
"Do you come bringing us an offering?"

Gregori: respectfully, though hurriedly, passes the antlers to the translucent
spirit.

The ancestral spirit accepts the antlers with a simple thanks, then gazes off
into the forest around him, his brow creased in a frown.

Holding his hands up to the light of Mother Moon, the spirit speaks. "A song
of sublime beauty and passion, penned in love by the Holy Emanation for his
queen, went astray, never sung and never heard."

Turning his head, the spirit continues, "The queen's love bound within her
twisted heart, turned to pain and torture, still dwells within a memory of
love, which might by a song be yet awakened long enough for but a single tear."

Gregori: "Where can we find--"

The spirit continues speaking without heeding the interruption. "A stone
filling with liquid corruption, consuming a loving king; his song waiting a
time to sing it, fragmented and forgotten to wander in pieces amongst the
terrors of the supra-plane."

Gregori: "To the Astral Plane, we must hurry."

The translucent spirit bows his head somberly and says, "We cannot stay
longer," as he and the others fade into the burial mounds.

Gregori: looks around slowly, then turns to run off in an anxious hurry.

EXEUNT to backstage.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - Hope in Danger
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Illuminated by the glow of Mother Moon's most gracious shine,
Answers have been found in which both fear and hope combine,
Hope a song of love, bound up and lost, by fate entwined.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Act III Scene I - On the Astral Plane
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The air shimmers and wavers, then with a thunderous grinding sound, the world
seems to crash forward, distant mountains suddenly looming as the land and sky
both shudder with the impact.

The desolate silence of the suddenly looming mountain, devoid even of the sound
of wind, welcomes a strange visitor, a two-headed, shaggy-furred beast with
hints of fire around its nostrils, padding along the cliffside.

The odd, abhorrent beast pads along, searching for something, and tugs at a
scrawny patch of some kind of dry grass. The movement dislodges a small,
tattered, crumpled scrap of parchment, which is tossed around by the wind.

ENTER a Serenguard warrior, from backstage.

Serenguard: climbs slowly up the mountainside, looking nervously around.

The scrap of parchment dances in the air before the new arrival before
fluttering on a mischievous breeze nearer to the furry, snarling beast.

Serenguard: gazes in surprise and some fear at the beast, then, squaring his
shoulders, raises his hammers and charges.

The abhorrent creature growls and leaps nimbly across the mountainside to meet
the challenge, fire billowing from its nostrils to engulf the warrior.

Serenguard: brings his hammers down with a loud crunch, again and again, as he
retreats from the beast's attacks without losing sight of the parchment.

Its mouth crimson from the wounds it has inflicted on its foe, the abhorrent
beast breathes a final gout of searing flame before succumbing to the warrior's
killing blow.

Serenguard: falls back, his face pale and his body nearly broken, sipping
thirstily at a jade vial before creeping forward to snatch the parchment from
the air.

For a few moments, a snatch of music appears in the air, haunting and mournful
in spite of being only a fragment from the middle of a song.

EXIT Serenguard, to the bower.

A low whistle in the background resolves into the sound of wind, heard for a
while but only now noticed, quickly growing in volume as if heralding something
coming on fast, an imminent collision.

The mountain shudders and seems to turn inside out, becoming an odd pile of
chunks of iron, twisted and rusted, consumed in decay.

A shred of parchment is jarred loose as the iron junkyard settles from the
blow, then falls down the side of the tumbled scrap, past a shining steel goat,
and blows into a twisting alley of smokey stone at the bottom of the scrap heap.

ENTER Gregori, from the bower.

Gregori: "What an odd place."

The shred of parchment tumbles around one of the many twisting alleyways and
falls at the man's feet.

Gregori: looks down in surprise for just a moment before exultantly retrieving
the shred of parchment.

Beginning with an abrupt jerk, a merry tune dances around the alleys, promising
mirth before ending suddenly in mid-phrase.

A huge bull with three horns lunges out of one of the twisting alleys in a
stampede.

Gregori: falls before the startling onslaught, then climbs back to his feet in
time to face the creature as it turns to attack again.

A flurry of blows is exchanged, the bull leaking blood from its eyes as it
impales the Moondancer on its horns, before the beast finally falls.

Gregori: limps hurriedly through the twisting alleys, clutching a shred of
parchment firmly in hand.

EXIT Gregori, to backstage.

The twisting of the alleys unfolds as the air shimmers and seems to squirm,
then clears with a hollow sucking sound that hurts the eardrums, revealing a
stately hotel at the end of one of the alleys.

ENTER two Hartstone (one female, one male) with cudgels, from backstage.

Hartstone 1: stops short, staring dumbfounded at the hotel.

Hartstone 2: "What is that doing here?"

The door creaks open, and a sharply-dressed feline, rounder than an aslaran and
somehow almost comical, strides out with an affectation of refinement in his
step.

Hartstone 1: "Hello? I'm not sure where we are. Can you help us?"

Hartstone 2: steps forward uncertainly, raising a hand in greeting to the
strange creature.

His smile a mouthful of fangs, the creature offers a sloppy bow before leaping
in a ferocious pounce on one of the figures, claws and maw digging sharply into
flesh to release a spray of arterial blood.

Hartstone 2: collapses under the onslaught and goes limp and pale, falling
entirely still.

Hartstone 1: stares at the corpse of her fallen comrade in fear for a moment
before raising her cudgel and peppering the attacker with a spray of thorns and
splinters.

Snarling, the creature pauses to brush blood ineffectually off of his surcoat
before advancing through the hail of splinters.

Hartstone 1: holds her ground despite her hand shaking, firing volley after
volley at the creature in between sips from a moonstone vial.

The growling feline tears chunks of flesh from his foe unhesitatingly, but
finally totters and falls in a puddle of its own blood and that of its
vanquished foe.

Hartstone 1: unleashes a few more sprays of splinters into the corpse before
relaxing her grip on her cudgel, then bends down to examine her fallen comrade.

Hartstone 1: pauses while gathering up the corpse to peer at the fallen feline,
then pulls the kerchief from its suit jacket, discovering it to actually be a
folded bit of yellowing parchment, and tucks this away before carrying the
corpse away from the hotel.

A haunting melody carried by a lone violin swells slowly, building from silence
towards a crescendo it never reaches, ending abruptly too soon.

EXEUNT to the bower.

The pool of blood trickles slowly down the alley, swelling with the flow from
the fallen feline. It grows into a river, swelling and tumbling through a pool
of eyes before falling into a sandy expanse beneath a pair of fleshy floating
orbs.

ENTER Laysus, from the bower.

Laysus: strides confidently across the desert sands, then pauses to sniff the
air curiously, his expression changing from concern to bemused interest.

A ripple of blinding light courses over the desert, causing sand to shift and
the river of blood to shudder before it ends abruptly.

Laysus: puts his hands out to steady himself, then looks around before
continuing forward, sniffing as he goes.

From behind the fleshy, hovering orbs steps a sultry, lissome maiden, her
curvaceous form concealed only by wisps of her bountiful hair. She smiles
charmingly at the approaching figure, making a beckoning gesture with her
finger.

Laysus: hastens towards the figure as if in a trance, pausing only at the last
moment as he realizes his vulnerability.

The maiden's welcoming smile turns bloodthirsty as she lunges forward, stabbing
a slender stiletto through his ear.

Laysus: writhes away from the unexpected attack, flailing in blindness as he
points his athame at the maiden's midsection.

Staggering back, the maiden writhes as if seized by some feeling, blood pooling
in the corners of her eyes, for only a moment before she digs her curved
fingernails into her foe, drawing generous trickles of blood.

Laysus: recovers his senses as he shudders with pain, jabbing his athame at the
maiden while mumbling a curse at her.

The maiden falls back and tumbles to the sands, her body splaying with a soft
thud, a tiny crumpled bit of vellum falling from her hand.

Laysus: plucks the parchment from the sands and unfolds it, then smiles.

A sweeping chord swells and then separates into two parallel melodies which
wind and curve around one another before abruptly ceasing.

Laysus: lopes off across the sands triumphantly.

EXIT Laysus, to backstage.

The stream of blood floods the sands, turning everything misty red as darkness
falls over everything. In the middle of the complete dark, a few wisps of an
unknown melody are heard distantly.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - What Was Lost Is Found
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Those of the Last Forest wander through veering spheres;
The City of Prophets joins them amongst astral frontiers.
They find together a song of hope lost for long years.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Act III Scene II - Before the Weeping Amaranth
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

A faint patina of blood restores a semblance of light, glinting off white-tiled
walls spattered with spots of red. A ruddy crimson sky above seems to cast only
shadows.

An enormous flower in the middle of the room shudders slightly, as if in agony.
Its lily white petals bleed generously as silver wires tug the tiny golden
hooks which gouge them.

ENTER Nifilhema, from backstage.

The statuesque, stately woman's flesh has been peeled back to reveal bloody
muscle and bone, each flap of flesh gouged with golden hooks on silver wires,
which quiver in sympathy with those torturing the flower.

Nifilhema: strides around the enormous amaranth, idly brushing a hand over its
petals, causing the flower and herself to quake in simultaneous agony,
releasing sprays of hot crimson blood.

ENTER Valek, Gregori, Chade, Laysus, and several Magnagorans and Serens, in a
group, from the bower.

Valek: steps up towards the flower, head bowed reverently.

Seren: shudders violently as a chill ripples down her spine.

Laysus: wrinkles his nose.

Nifilhema: peers imperiously at the approaching figures, her lips curled in a
malicious sneer.

Nifilhema: "What exquisite agony, to host so varied a host. Seek each of you
the true ecstacy of pain?"

Valek: holds up a patched-together parchment and opens his mouth to speak.

Gregori: steps forward, holding a hand up to stay the speech.

Valek: frowns, glancing around.

Chade: reluctantly nods and turns to hear the Moondancer speak.

Gregori: "Nifilhema, Queen of Illustrious Beauty!"

Nifilhema: stares icey daggers at the Moondancer.

Gregori: "Though long years and... many changes have come since, the ages still
record the unequalled love and devotion shared between you and your hearthmate,
King Gorgalial, a love so deep it--"

Nifilhema: hisses threateningly.

Nifilhema: "Do not speak that name before me. Who comes before me to awaken
what should slumber?"

Gregori: "Gregori Mes'ard of the Serenwilde. With me are other followers of
Brother Hart and Mother Moon, as well as Warlord Chade d'Illici of the City of
Prophets, and others who dwell in the--"

Nifilhema: "I have no need of your words. But I would have your canvas, my
pet, to make with you a beautiful art wrought in agony. Such pretty skin, even
prettier on the inside. Shall we explore it together?"

Gregori: glances back at the others in a moment of uncertainty, shuddering.

Gregori: "With respect, Queen, you know not what precious words we bring you."

Nifilhema: "The words you howl as you perish in torturous agony might please
me, were it not the case that your kind can withstand so little before
expiring. A pity."

Gregori: stumbles over his words a moment before attempting a fresh start.

Gregori: "The story is still told of a song of love once written by a man for
his soulmate, sublime in beauty, yet steeped in tragedy and loss, for this poem
was never sung before its subject."

Nifilhema: feigns disinterest as she occupies herself plucking the eyeballs
from a nearby imp with slow, deliberate movements.

Gregori: "Long has this song been lost to the world, but after much cost and
pain, we bring it to you now. Valek Feyranti of the Ur'Guard will sing it for
your pleasure."

Gregori: steps back, gesturing to the man with the parchment.

Nifilhema: turns to examine the others, a moment's curiosity revealed in a
curling brow before being drowned in contempt and frozen rage.

Valek: steps forward and lifts the patched parchment, clearing his throat
before beginning to sing, his voice rich and rough, and at first hesitant.

Valek: sings, "Silken grace upon your hair, subtle twists of fate."

Subtly at first, the sounds of an unseen chorus matching its voices to the song
swells, accompanied by an unearthly orchestra.

Valek: sings, "The truest nature of my love I can never truly sate."

Nifilhema: turns her nose up in a sneer and looks away from the singer
dismissively.

Valek: sings, "Lost within this soaring light, my heart strings adrift."

One voice arises in the unseen chorus above all the others, a low, sonorous
male voice full of longing and desire, a soaring hunger for love.

Valek: sings, "Seeking past our eternal life, wanting this simple gift."

Nifilhema: tenses, her ravaged flesh briefly flooding with bright new blood.

Gregori: takes a half-step forward, expectant and hopeful.

Valek: sings, "Of lives intwined in loving embrace, our souls as one alight."

Nifilhema: turns to stare at the singer, regret and loss shining in her eyes
for a moment.

Nifilhema: harshly pulls her silver wires, causing her flesh and the petals of
the amaranth to shriek audibly, trickling with sickly yellow-green pus mingled
with curdled blood, restoring her visage to one of pain and cruelty.

Valek: sings, "My simple wish is this to be our loving bathed so bright."

The sense of longing woven into every strain of the song somehow survives past
the final chords, reincarnated into a yearning in the very silence.

Nifilhema: stares impassively for a long silence.

Valek: shuffles his feat uneasily.

Nifilhema: lunges silently with a movement so graceful it hardly seems like
movement at all, her clawed fingernail effortlessly cleaving through the
singer's neck.

Valek: shudders a moment, before toppling over backward and falling in an inert
limp bundle.

As a trickle of bright, almost incandescent, blood flows away from the gash on
the fallen man's neck, an anxious silence settles in the air.

Laysus: frowns in disappointment, slumping forward slightly.

Nifilhema: ponders the steaming corpse before her for only a moment before
raising her eyes, filled with an unfocused, distant longing, to the bloody red
sky.

A single tear forms in a crystal eye, and before it can fall, the silent
keening of loss which formed it, in freezing to stone, touches the tear, giving
it the unyielding, harsh form of diamond as it falls noiselessly.

Gregori: stares raptly at the falling tear and steps forward.

Chade: hurries ahead of the Moondancer to scoop the diamond tear greedily up.

The enormous amaranth curls its petals closer to itself, the hooks dragging
through them as they move to unleash a new stream of blood which clots even as
it spills.

Nifilhema: turns stiffly and waves with a peremptory gesture of dismissal.

Nifilhema: "Go, now. I tire."

Nifilhema: steps behind the amaranth with precise, stiff, clipped movements,
her pinned flesh shifting with each step to reveal hints of sinew, bones, and
bowels.

EXIT Nifilhema, to backstage.

There is a subdued hush for a moment, before a ragged, weary cheer erupts from
the crowd as they gather and retreat.

EXEUNT to the bower.

A lingering echo of the forlorn song, arising from a forgotten curve in the
wind, flutters after the departing group, its touch brightening the flower as
it brushes past.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Interlude - A Memory Of Compassion
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

A pain-wracked shell, bereft, lost love now ashen,
Yet at its heart, faint mem'ry of compassion:
A hope is born from splinters of lost passion.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Act III Scene III - A flip-flopped fountain in Faethorn
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The gurgling of a sideways fountain seems subdued, sputtering unevenly, as the
dim light of a waning moon filters through trees to give the water a silvery
tint.

ENTER Fae Girl, from the bower.

Fae Girl: creeps stealthily past the fountain, her pointed teeth gleaming in
the moonlight, and cackles with evil glee.

ENTER Caedryn and Hayden, from the bower.

Hayden: looks around anxiously until he spots the girl, then gestures towards
her and takes up a watchful pose, keeping his distance.

Caedryn: "They said they were on their way, Hayden."

Hayden: "Thank the Great Spirits, it's nearly too late."

Fae Girl: takes a tiny songbird from a tree bough and cups it in her hands with
a giggle, then starts plucking feathers from it, squeezing it firmly to keep it
getting away.

The reddish hue of the girl's skin deepens, especially around the tiny horns
growing from her forehead, as her skin bubbles and pulses with its tainted
change.

ENTER Gregori, leading Chade and Laysus, from backstage.

Fae Girl: turns to stare at the new arrivals, releasing the bird, which tries
to flap its wings and tumbles to the ground to pathetically twitch around
there.

Fae Girl: "Oooh, more people to play with! Come here, little boy, I want to
show you something."

Fae Girl: makes a beckoning gesture with a curled finger, the curved talon
gleaming red in the dim light.

Chade: "I've something to show you too."

Fae Girl: claps her hands merrily.

Fae Girl: "A present! Does it have blood?"

Gregori: "I suppose it does, in a way."

Chade: steps towards the girl and hands her, a little hesitantly, a diamond
tear.

Fae Girl: looks at the tear in her hand, her excitement quickly fading to
disappointment.

Laysus: watches the girl in anticipation.

Unnoticed by the little girl, the tear on her hand begins to melt, the liquid
capturing the silvery moonlight as it slowly spreads up her arm.

The faint strains of a chorus of violins wafts in on an errant wind, muted as
an echo heard from afar.

Fae Girl: "That was no fun! Laysus, come here and play with me. You would
make a divine canvas of agony!"

Fae Girl: steps forward with a leer, tilting her girlish hips in a disturbingly
womanly way.

Laysus: "Mother Moon, help this poor girl!"

The glistening diamond liquid encases the girl's arm and begins to spread down
her shoulder, quickening with a gurgle that echoes that of the fountain,
growing more steady.

Fae Girl: opens her eyes wide in shock, then begins to claw at the liquid, her
wicked talons opening raw wounds in her own flesh but not affecting the silvery
tear at all.

The distant melody swells, still faint, with a suggestion of familiar words
woven through the harmony.

Fae Girl: "It tickles! How could you do this to me? Such beautiful
suffering..."

As the distant, sourceless song swells, a sonorous voice resounds clearly, "My
simple wish is this to be our loving bathed so bright."

Fae Girl: continues to claw at herself ineffectually as the shining fluid
completely encases her.

The fluid forms into a cocoon, completely trapping the girl within, and becomes
opaque, resembling quicksilver.

The forest is suddenly silent and motionless, as if time stands still, the
gathered people holding their breath.

It feels as if the air itself holds so still it is impossible to breathe, as
the unending moment prolongs itself through agonizing silence.

A thin line forms on the quicksilver cocoon and gradually widens for but a
moment before the entire cocoon abruptly shatters in a spray of molten
moonlight, revealing naught but a harmless little girl in a cheerful blue
dress.

Fae Girl: looks around in surprise, then smiles.

Fae Girl: "I think I had... a strange dream, but I don't remember it now.
Oooh, look! Can someone help me find my rabbit? I want to play tag!"

Fae Girl: skips merrily up and playfully taps someone on the arm.

Fae Girl: "Tag, you're it!"

Fae Girl: giggles happily as she darts off in a merry romp.

EXIT Fae Girl, to the bower.

A collective sigh of relief precedes a sustained, enthusiastic cheer from the
assembled crowd, most of whom join in the girl's game of chase.

EXEUNT all but Gregori and Chade.

Gregori: "Thank you and all Magnagora for your aid in this matter, Warlord."

Chade: "Good tidings to you and all Serenwilde."

With a flourish of his arm, Gregori bows deeply.

With a flourish of his arm, Chade bows deeply.

EXIT Chade, to backstage.

Gregori: turns to face you, his arms outstretched.

Gregori: "Thus ends the tragedy of the little fae girl on a note of hope and
triumph."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Costumes
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Elohora, Lady of Light:
shining white robes

A shining white set of robes lie crumpled here.

These immaculate white robes are entirely simple in design, having
no ornamentation. Cut in elegant straight lines, the robes glide
silently as they shift, offering relatively little protection
against the elements but providing extensive freedom of movement
to the wearer.

Erion Faeshade:
billowing black robes

Fae Girl:
a silken blue sundress

Japhiel, Illuminator of Merciful Justice:
shining white robes -- as Elohora's
an elegant belt of golden links OR a gold studded belt
wielding a tome

Laysus, Caedryn, Gregori, Hayden:
midnight blue robes decorated with moons

Deep midnight blue robes have been left in a pile here.

Fashioned of silk dyed a deep midnight blue, these elegant robes
are prominently decorated with silver circles and semicircles,
depictions of Mother Moon in all her phases. The robes are tied
off with a simple silver cord, and edged with strips of silver
along each hem.

Luna, Avatar of Mother Moon:
a sparkling yellow shift dress

Selene, Avatar of Mother Moon:
a flowing green dress

Albion, Avatar of Mother Moon:
a severe black dress

Valek Feyranti:
Ur'Guard armor

Nifilhema, Queen of Insufferable Cruelty:
a black silk corset
webbed stockings

Warlord Chade d'Illici:
Ur'Guard armor