.-----------------------.
| |
: The Pariah's Mask :
: by Linaeve d'Murani :
| |
._______________________.

A tale of legend and lore, beauty and depravity, aristocrat and outcast in the
bowels of the Tainted Lands.
._______________________.

CAST:
=====
Mina d'Gris, the Pureblood
The Pariah, named Gombit
Grandmother d'Gris, the Fallen
Ustrel, the Seditionist

=====================================================================

Scene 1 (The Presidio of the Damned): [A dank cavern deep within the Presidio
of the Damned. The maddening drip of water in the distance echoes off the
barren walls. In this particular niche of the cavern, a fire steals away the
damp chill and casts fitful light onto various tapestries and trinkets hung on
the walls, which look to be incredibly out of place, instead meant for an
opulent estate. Against the walls rest various musical instruments and booklets
of sheet music.]

{PROP: Tapestry. This opulent tapestry of House d'Gris hangs rather out of
place on the dingy cavern wall, its meticulous and intricate knot-work gleaming
with hints of gold in the firelight. Amidst its rich emerald velvet and spun
gold is depicted a demonic claw teasing the strings of a warped lyre.}

{PROP: Rocking Chair. The chair is warped beyond belief, and what looks to have
once been richly lacquered mahogany is faded into dullness. High-backed and
wide, it looks as though it has weathered the use of many a generation of
mother and child.}

.....................................................................

GRANDMOTHER and MINA: ENTER (silent)

{Costume, Grandmother: Frail and slight, this elderly viscanti nonetheless
radiates an air of virility. Her chin is strong and ever lifted, her nose
sharply beaked between sagacious cobalt eyes hollowed deeply into her skull.
Mottled in a strange, faded grey hue, her skin has dimmed from the standard of
regal lavender; but her pearly hair is magnificently long and resplendent and
brushed to a gleam. What looks to have once been a luxurious dressing gown
adorns her fragile form, its dull silk hued a blood red. She wears tattered
black velvet slippers on her feet.}

{Costume, Mina: The most prominent of this young viscanti woman's features is
not her exquisite amaranth skin, but her swollen belly. She appears to be very
far along with child, and her slight and slender stature is emphasized by this.
The lines of her face are delicately aristocratic, though her brow is naive, and
her grey eyes intuitive on either side of a subtly hooked nose. Her ebon hair is
like amassed silk, and braided intricately away from her face. Finespun woolen
robes of black and a supple pair of soft leather slippers are her simplest
adornments; around her neck she wears a locket of gold, and each wrist is
weighted with delicate bracelets of various gems and golden chains.}

GRANDMOTHER: rocks back and forth on a warped rocking chair, as though in a
trance. An old, warped lute is cradled in her lap, and her gnarled hand plays
through the hair of Mina, who sits just before the fire.

GRANDMOTHER: (sings hauntingly) "The Pariah's maze is near..."

GRANDMOTHER: (sings) "A vile haven for the man the Engine shunned..."

GRANDMOTHER: (sings) "Those who see him writhe in fear..."

GRANDMOTHER: (sings) "By his mask their minds bewildered and undone..."

MINA: (sings, with a mocking roll of her eyes) "And those who dare to run and
hide, only find themselves strung deeper in his maze... I know, I know,
Grandmother. It's not the first time I've heard the song, in case you've
forgotten."

[The fire emits a sharp crack, its glowing embers dimming as it smolders in its
pit.]

GRANDMOTHER: (sings) "Never to be seen again..."

MINA: (sighing heavily, wearily at the elderly woman) "I will be safe,
Grandmother."

GRANDMOTHER: shifts her eyes to Mina after a long pause, the glassy pools
focusing finally.

GRANDMOTHER: "Once you reach the Blasted Lands, dear one... you must not grow
mindless and wander from the path. Stay in the line of the moon and the sun. If
you stray even once..."

MINA: (laughing heedlessly) "It's only a legend, Grandmother. The Pariah - he
is just a tale!"

GRANDMOTHER: (eyes sharp and tone hasty) "Mina! He is not the only thing to
fear! The lands are wicked, they will only confuse you!"

[With a sudden rush of air, the final embers of the fire collapse into
darkness. All grows quiet. Not even an echo of their voices sounds.]

[For a long moment, naught is visible but the slow curls of smoke risings to
the cavern ceiling.]

[A faint glow emerges from the blackness and flickers to life, its source a
candle within the lantern on the lap of Grandmother d'Gris.]

GRANDMOTHER: (in a whisper) "It is time."

GRANDMOTHER: hands the lantern to Mina, and casts her eyes toward the
upward-spiraling steps of the cavern.

GRANDMOTHER: (in a whisper) "Get the child there safely, my Mina. For the sake
of your future. For the sake of House d'Gris."

MINA: lays a hand on her belly, swollen with child. After a moment, she bends
and hoists a supple leather satchel over one shoulder, and a small lyre over
the other. She does not hesitate but to touch her grandmother's hand in a brief
gesture of affection, before she begins the climb upwards, upwards, upwards....

[The glow of the lantern dissipates, and the cavern is left once more in total
darkness.]

GRANDMOTHER: EXIT (silent)

=====================================================================

Scene 2 (The Blasted Lands): [Day has come, and day has gone. Day has come
again, and has fallen away again: it is night, and many days have passed. The
terrain is bleak, a maze-like continuum of dry, blank landscape that seems to
have no beginning and no end. There is nothing in sight as far as the eye can
see but the same desolate, enigmatic lands.]

.....................................................................

[The empty caws of birds echo in the stillness.]

[An illusory haze surrounds the curled-up Mina, who tosses fitfully in her
sleep. It is twilight, and the rock beneath which she has taken rest shadows
her, as the mirages of her dreams emerge amidst the haze...]

[A baby descends from the womb of a viscanti woman, who writhes tortuously in
her bed. The midwife lifts the child high into the air by his neck, and he lets
out a healthy, piercing wail. At first, there is a collective of satisfied
murmurs... but the sound of solemn approval is broken by a horrified gasp.]

[A wiry viscanti man wrenches the baby from the midwife and thrusts him onto
his wife's bosom. She is exhausted, and glares at him wearily.]

[The wiry viscanti man exclaims, "A whelp, a bastard! Look at his ears! What
have you done, senseless whore?"]

[A terrified cry escapes the lips of the woman as she turns the baby's head in
her hand. His ears are long, slender, and pointed. His skin is exquisite, dewy,
fair, and completely untouched by the Taint. She breathes raggedly, her mouth
posed open, but silent.]

MINA: (murmuring in her sleep) "No... no... an elfen? Please..."

[The haze pulses around her, the mirages dissipating only to be replaced by new
figures.

[An ominous man stands tall before a large gathering. He is dwarfed only by the
towering figure of the Megalith behind him, as he thumps his scepter with
finality.]

[The ominous man shouts, "And thus, may the line of the d'Gris family be
shunned from the ranks of Magnagora, until such a day that they prove their
blood to be cleansed of the impurity of this birth! The d'Gris shall bring the
firstborn of their next purely bred viscanti back to Magnagora, if they ever
wish to claim their noble namesake once again!"]

[An onlooker in the crowd yells, "And what of the elfen scum, Warlord?"]

[The ominous man cackles.]

[The ominous man shouts, "Why, the little urchin will be done away with, of
course! Did you think I wouldn't give you a show today, Magnagora? To the
gallows!"]

[A horrendous cheer emanates from the assembled mass, before the sound
dissipates along with the dreamlike haze. Mina's fitful stirrings cease, and
she awakens with a sharp gasp.]

MINA: (in a whisper) "Nil... where am I... am I dreaming?"

MINA: places a hand on her belly, her eyes narrowing, her brow furrowing as
she looks over the desolate surroundings, shaking her head.

MINA: (in a whisper) "How will we ever find our way out..."

MINA: uncaps her waterskin and tilts back her head, the last drop hitting her
tongue with a hopeless finality. She flings it aside with an angry sob, and
leans her head back against the rock.

[Once again, the lands fall to silence, as Mina rocks back and forth,
shivering, and night descends.]

[Suddenly, a ghoulish voice says, "She is thirsty, is she? Needs some water,
does she?"]

MINA: (jumping up with a frightful gasp) "Who's there?!"

PARIAH: ENTER (silent)

{Costume, Pariah: Spindly and hunched, he is at first glance hardly
identifiable in gender or in race by his appearance. His face is completely
concealed by a radiant mask of pure ivory, and looks as though it is carved
exquisitely out of bone. The lips are painted a blood ruby, but the rest of the
mask claims no detail or adornment. Atop the mask is a shock of white hair, and
on each side of his head are grey locks braided into long ornamental plaits
that nearly reach the viscanti's elbows. His bony form is covered only by a
worn and dusty grey robe and an overly large cloth satchel about his shoulder.
His feet are entirely bare, calloused and deformed beyond words.}

THE PARIAH: creeps out from behind the rock, in a gait much like a slither.

THE PARIAH: "It's just me, love. Me, who wants to give you some water, if love
needs it. Love and her baby."

THE PARIAH: reaches out his sinuous fingers as though to touch Mina's swollen
belly.

MINA: (slapping his hand away and jumping back) "Get off! Get away! Get away
from us!"

THE PARIAH: (creeping closer) "And where's you going to go, loves? Nowhere to
go, is there? Love and the baby needs some water, some rest, some help. I show
you the way, loves."

THE PARIAH: sweeps his hand in emphasis, framing the vast void of land that
surrounds them. He holds his hands out before him, his spindly fingers
gesturing, beckoning in come-hither fashion.

MINA: (blinking her eyes, her voice trembling) "You're just a dream. You're
just a legend, just a tale. I'm.. what's happening to me? I.. I'm..."

MINA: covers her face with her hands, laughing in fear and disbelief.

MINA: "I'm just thirsty, just hungry... seeing things... no! I can't let this
happen! Grandmother told me! She told me..."

THE PARIAH: "There, there. Here to help you. Just here to help you. Nobody
knows, nobody knows... they just tell the stories... the bad stories..."

MINA: (falling to her knees in weariness) "She told me... she told me..."

MINA: falls forward onto her hands, her eyes rolling back into her head. As she
clutches her stomach, a burst of water expels from between her legs. She
collapses in a heap, and all falls to darkness.

[For a moment, it is completely silent in the sudden blackness. Then there is
the brief sound of shuffling feet, quickened breath, as though through
exertion. And then the undeniable, rhythmic sound of a body being dragged...
dragged through the dust and the sand, and the night.]

THE PARIAH: "There, there. There, there."

=====================================================================

Scene 3 (The Serpent's Maw): [The Serpent's Maw, deep within the Blasted Lands.
The Maw is much like a cavern, its ceiling the high, vaulted dome of bleached
bone. The cracks shattered into the serpentine skull cast some faint shafts of
light, but it is mostly dank and dark.]

{PROP: Well: Crafted of teetering grey stone, the well is in a decrepit state.
It is small and circular, and set very near the ledge of the lava pit. No doubt
the water within it is warm.}

.....................................................................

[The air is fetid, and the tortuous sound of thick and gassy bubbling is the
only disruption of an otherwise pressing silence.]

THE PARIAH: putters around the lethargic form of Mina, poking and prodding and
tugging at her clothing and her adornments, appraising and gibbering excitably.

THE PARIAH: (gleefully) "Yes, yes, yes... love is a pretty one, love's baby
will be a pretty one too. Pretty things she has, pretty things for my Lord!"

MINA: wakes with a start and a pained gasp, clutching at her stomach. For a few
moments she struggles through a labor pain, and then slumps back against the
wall in exhaustion. Her eyes are glazed as she blinks, disoriented.

MINA: (in a groggy whisper, her eyes cast toward the lava pit) "What.. where?"

MINA: sits up hastily as her eyes focus on the Pariah, and she backs quickly
into the corner behind her.

THE PARIAH: "Love is awake. Is she thirsty? Is she hungry? Baby is coming..."

THE PARIAH: creeps toward Mina with his fingers outstretched, bent over
intently.

MINA: (thrusting her hands forward and pushing back further into the corner)
"Get away! Don't touch me, or my baby!"

THE PARIAH: gibbers quietly and slithers off across the cavern, shuffling
noisily in the corner.

MINA: sighs with momentary relief, clutching her arms around her belly
protectively. She curls her knees up and rocks back and forth as another
searing pain seizes her.

[When her pain dissipates and she looks up again, the masked Pariah is there,
his face close to hers. Mina shrieks and attempts to fling herself across the
room, but she is too weary to get far.]

THE PARIAH: "Something for you, loves. Some to take the pains away, make the
baby come. Take it, take it!"

THE PARIAH: thrusts a cup and a glass bottle toward Mina, the scent from both
suggesting a dosage of absinthe and perhaps something even more toxic. Tendrils
of acrid steam curl from the cup.

MINA: (knocking the cup from his hands) "No! Take your poison and your filth
away from me and - I'll have this baby without your help!"

[The cup cracks against the cavern floor and shatters on the ledge, its pieces
spilling far down into the lava below.]

THE PARIAH: (snarling) "Tries to be kind and love plays nasty! Love doesn't
want help! No help, no help, no help..."

THE PARIAH: shuffles off across the room again, muttering to himself. He
situates himself near the small well of water in the cavern's center, where he
can still keep an eye on Mina.

THE PARIAH: (after taking a long draw from the acrid bottle) "No help.. no
help.. no help..."

[Aside from the Pariah's mottled gibbering, the cavern begins to settle into a
silence. Now and then, Mina is seized with pain, but she stifles her cries, not
wanting to draw the attention of the masked creature. Before long, the bottle
from which he has been drinking clatters to the floor, and his head droops as
he nods off.]

MINA: licks her dry lips, huddling into the corner. She shivers despite the
radiating heat from the lava far below, her eyes fixed on the Pariah and the
well against which he leans.

MINA: (to herself, as though transfixed) "So thirsty..."

MINA: clambers to her feet shakily. Careful not to make a sound, she creeps to
the middle of the cavern, and leans over the shallow well.

THE PARIAH: stirs and bobs his head up, only to fall back deeply into sleep
once again.

MINA: dips her hand into the wall, bringing a small pool of water to her lips.
She licks and sucks the drops from her fingers, and reaches for more, although
it is warm and stale.

THE PARIAH: moans as he emerges, startled, from his drunken stupor.

THE PARIAH: (slurring) "Thirthhsy? Heh heh. Should'f had shome of my shpecial
drink."

MINA: leans suddenly over the well, straining against her pains.

MINA: (desperately) "Why are you doing this? Please, you said you wanted to
help me and.. you're not helping me! I need... I need to get to Magnagora... I
need a midwife..."

THE PARIAH: chortles drunkenly and leans to the side.

MINA: "Why do you do this to people? The tales about you are true!"

THE PARIAH: suddenly emits a shaky wail, as though he is about to weep, the
liquor shifting his mood unpredictably.

THE PARIAH: (sputtering) "My Lord, my Lord wants me to! It's for my Lord... to
make up for it..."

MINA: "To make up for what?"

THE PARIAH: strokes his mask tenderly, crooning.

THE PARIAH: "My Lord is hungry and I give my Lord what he needs. My Lord will
give me what I need if I feed him, more and more..."

MINA: (creeping around closer) "What.. what do you need?"

THE PARIAH: (sobbing) "No one wants the ugly... ugly Gombit..."

THE PARIAH: sways, nearly collapsing onto his side.

MINA: "Why do you wear your mask? Who is Gombit? Why do you take--"

MINA: groans sharply and braces herself against the side of the well, cradling
her stomach.

THE PARIAH: (slurring) "Gombit, that's me, Gombit... ugly Gombit... wear the
mask to hide the ugly..."

MINA: (intently) "And who... who is your Lord? Why do you want my baby?"

THE PARIAH: (sobbing) "My Lord, Lord Legion, he wants them, he hungers... I
give my Lord what he needs and, and maybe my Lord gives me beauty, loves, takes
away the ugly... so I can go home. Want to go home."

THE PARIAH: suddenly chortles madly and hoists his sack from behind his back.
Rummaging through it, he begins plucking out bones of all shapes and sizes -
ribs, particular fingers, and one small skull. He sucks a bit of flesh from a
femur and begins chanting wildly.

MINA: backs away from the Pariah with wide eyes. She slips behind the well,
shuddering in anger and fear.

MINA: (trembling angrily) "The tales are true... you liar!"

[As the Pariah begins to gleefully toss the bones over the side of the ledge
into the pit of lava, hissing as they sink into the surface, Mina gazes into
the well's water. Her face is worn, desperate, dirtied with dust and tears.]

MINA: (clenching her teeth) "We will never get to Magnagora... we must get to
Magnagora..."

MINA: sweeps her finger through the water, causing it to ripple and distort her
reflection. And then she closes her eyes, conjuring into the water the faint
image of her grandmother.

MINA: presses her lips together to stifle a sob, and the image dissipates
quickly. And then, suddenly, she snaps out of her weak sentimentality and looks
up, as though struck by some thought.

THE PARIAH: (tossing the last of his bones over the ledge as he chants) "Bones
for my Lord, bones for my Lord, so Gombit won't be wretched no more. Flesh for
my Lord, flesh for my Lord, so Gombit won't be ugly no more."

MINA: creeps around the well and tentatively, with precise calculation, reaches
for the Pariah. From behind, she snatches his mask away, and jumps quickly
behind the well once more.

{Costume change, the Pariah: Spindly and hunched, he is at first glance hardly
identifiable in gender or in race by his appearance. A hideous face is exposed,
its skin sallow and fetid, scarred beyond words. One eye has been sewn closed
and its lid is wrinkled and shrunken, no eyeball apparent in the deep hollow
that sinks behind it. No nose is visible: instead, two skeletal holes and a
mottled bit of rotted cartilage haunt the middle of his face. He appears to
have no lips, just limp skin for a mouth, and grey gums jutting out and
displaying a few chipped and crooked teeth. Atop his head is a shock of white
hair, and on each side of his head are grey locks braided into long ornamental
plaits that nearly reach the viscanti's elbows. His bony form is covered only
by a worn and dusty grey robe and an overly large cloth satchel about his
shoulder. His feet are entirely bare, calloused and deformed beyond words.}

THE PARIAH: wails in outrage and leaps up from his crouch, shielding his face
with his cloak. He stumbles as he tries to wrest the mask away from Mina,
clumsily losing his hold on his cloak, which falls away to reveal his hideously
deformed face.

MINA: (gasping loudly) "You... your face! Gombit! Your face, your prayers have
been granted..."

MINA: casts the mask across the cavern, into the shadows.

THE PARIAH: wrenches away from Mina, lifting his spindly hands to his face. His
brows furrow and he shakes his head, weeping and frantically whimpering for his
mask.

MINA: (carefully) "Come, Gombit... look into the water here, see your
reflection... see that I'm telling you the truth."

MINA: moves around to the Pariah by the front of the well, teetering
dangerously near to the ledge. She leans over into the well, gesturing at him.

[As the Pariah leans over the edge of the well, tentatively, his hands drawn
across his face, Mina moves her lips subtly and conjures her illusion. As the
Pariah lowers his hands, his hideous visage vanishes, replaced by a handsome
mirage.]

THE PARIAH: (utterly entranced) "Oh, my Lord.. my Lord..."

[The water is as still as glass, and the Pariah barely twitches, so mesmerized
is he by the beauty of his mirage within the water. Long moments pass, Mina's
breath trembling as she watches him.]

[Suddenly, the illusion begins to dissipate, the water rippling as a tormented
face disfigures the beautiful one within the well.]

MINA: jerks a hand to her stomach, her concentration disrupted by her pain. She
looks up in alarm at the Pariah, whose brow is twisted into confusion and anger.

THE PARIAH: "Liar!"

THE PARIAH: surges toward Mina, crying out in a fierce snarl.

[Swiftly, she thrusts her elbow into his ribs, and for a moment he wavers, his
balance on the precarious ledge shaky. He is silent as he attempts to gain his
bearings, teetering, but then his face twists horribly and he wails in dire
protest as he falls backwards, plunging far down into the fiery depths.]

PARIAH: EXIT (silent)

MINA: (collapsing in a relieved heap) "Oh, Nil.. Oh, Nil..."

[Hours pass. The night surges into day, and clear shafts of light illuminate
the lonesome, gleaming mask thrown into the cavern's farthest corner.]

USTREL: ENTER (with a series of Nihilist pupils trailing behind him)

{Costume, Ustrel: Elaborately dressed in thick velvet robes and various
gem-adorned fineries, this youthful viscanti bears an air of aristocracy. His
skin and fingers are immaculately clean, and even the pointed beard that juts
from his chin is meticulously groomed. Strong, confident facial structure is
complemented by the faint emerald hue of his skin, and long rivulets of raven
hair are clasped at his neck in a ritualistic braiding pattern. He wears a
blackened iron circlet on his head, and needle-like thorns twist menacingly
from its girth.}

USTREL: (concisely, to his students) "And this, the most dangerous cavern of
the Serpent's Maw. You must be wary--"

USTREL: stops short, raising his hands to bring his pupils to a pause. There,
in the center of the cavern, is slumped a young viscanti woman. She is asleep,
with a tiny child at her breast.

MINA: stirs into wakefulness, immediately sitting up as she catches sight of
Ustrel.

MINA: "Please... take me to Magnagora!"

USTREL: EXIT (silent)

=====================================================================

Scene 4 (Nursery): [A dim, candlelit nursery. Sapphire blue curtains only
somewhat conceal the view from the window, where dusk snakes its tenebrous
fingers into the evening and plucks away the sun. Magnagora's ominous towers
are visible through a murky haze.]

{PROP: Mask. Hung upon the wall above the child's cradle is radiant mask of
pure ivory, which looks as though it is carved entirely out of bone. The lips
are painted an exquisite blood ruby, but the rest of the mask claims no detail
or adornment. It is at once beautiful and eerie, uncannily solitary there upon
the wall.}

{PROP: Rocking Chair. The chair is warped beyond belief, and what looks to have
once been richly lacquered mahogany is faded into dullness. High-backed and
wide, it looks as though it has weathered the use of many a generation of
mother and child.}

{PROP: Music Box. Intricate clockwork devices inside the music box spin and
turn effortlessly as it plays. It is of a deep mahogany, almost black, and
engraved with meticulous artistic detail in scenes of the Tainted City -
gargoyles, cogs, and other efflorescent ornaments. The inside is lined with
bright red silk, and upon a tiny platform the porcelain figurine of a
richly-clothed viscanti woman stands, her face turned up in terrible ecstasy as
she lifts her hands into the air, the blood trickling through her fingers and
down her bare forearms.}

.....................................................................

[The scene shifts once more, and we find ourselves in a nursery adorned with
rich decor.]

[A music box spins a haunting melody, and the rich sound of a woman's singing
mingles with its lullaby. The scent of lavender wafts upon the air.]

MINA: (sings) "The Pariah's maze is near..."

MINA: (sings) "A vile haven for the man the Engine shunned..."

MINA: rocks back and forth soothingly on a rocking chair, stroking her child's
fair face. He is wrapped in a velvet swaddle, indulged in opulence and warmth.

MINA: (sings) "Those who see him writhe in fear..."

MINA: (sings) "By his mask their minds bewildered and undone..."

MINA: (after a pause, sings) "Never to be seen again..."

[In a pale shaft of moonlight from the window, a gleaming visage is illumined.
There it hangs, above the child's cradle, a radiant porcelain mask - a paradigm
of beauty hung solitary, freed of the twisted face it once concealed.]

MINA: EXIT (silent)