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A Little Bit Of Spice
by Lendren Starfall
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Cast (in order of appearance)

Lisinda ......................................... a mirthful young girl
Whelsten .......................................... a playful young boy
Brenna ........................................... a curious young girl
Meredec ............................................... an elderly bard

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SCENE Spice1: Dozens of hanging drops of cloth, gauzy and translucent, have been
painted with images of trees and then hung in a seemingly random scattering
around the stage, giving the appearance of a young forest full of places to
hide, while still allowing the audience the chance to see the actors as they
move between and amongst them. One side of the stage is screened off with a
larger, more opaque drop, also decorated with more trees. A ribbon of blue silk
stretches across the stage, the rhythmic movement given it by stagehands
somewhere offstage making it resemble a peaceful but energetic stream. A few
boulders lie here and there, strangely squarish, as those left behind by ruins
now overgrown with moss.

EFFECT Q1 (6): The parting curtains reveal a forest fashioned from gauzy,
translucent fabric painted with images of young trees, scattered over most of
the stage, though one side is concealed by a thicker scrim also decorated with
trees. A stream runs across the stage, rippling in the sunlight, fashioned from
a length of blue-dyed silk being rhythmically wiggled by unseen stagehands. A
few boulders, covered with moss and oddly rectangular in shape, are sprinkled
around the stage.

ROLE Lisinda (F): Lisinda

COSTUME LisindaCostume (Lisinda): About seven years old, this human girl has a
perpetual smile and a glint of mischief and merriment in her pale blue eyes.
Blonde hair cut fairly short is mussed up and tousled by constant motion, and
her simple clothes, trousers and a once-frilly, now-tattered blouse, are smudged
with the artifacts of her play. Around her neck hangs a pendant cut from
crystal in the shape of a bird in flight.

ROLE Whelsten (M): Whelsten

COSTUME WhelstenCostume (Whelsten): Gangly and stretched out, this young aslaran
boy, perhaps eight years old, is in almost constant motion. Even when he stands
still, his tail twitches, his hands weave, and his whiskers twitch. Mottled fur
still dark and brindled with youth is beginning to mellow to the tawny hue of
age around his ever-swivelling ears. Long, draped robes of sapphire blue
further exaggerate his continual motion by flowing and shifting around him.

ROLE Brenna (F): Brenna

COSTUME BrennaCostume (Brenna): As with all faeling children, it's hard to judge
this girl's age, since even full-grown faelings are childlike in size and
appearance. She is dressed in inky-black robes which so well match her hair
that they seem to blend into one another, lending her silver-grey moth-like
wings a brighter sheen by contrast. A pair of thick spectacles, set in bulky
onyx rims, seem ungainly on her tiny face, their weight constantly slipping down
her tiny nose until she pushes them back up.

Lisinda: ENTER tumbles onto the stage with a child's giggle, then springs up to
look back the way she came.

Lisinda: Throw to me!

Whelsten: ENTER springs onto stage backwards, standing in front of Lisinda with
his arms up to block the human girl, his furry tail twitching.

Lisinda: dodges and weaves behind the aslaran boy, trying to get clear of his
block.

Brenna: (from offstage) I can't, he's got you completely covered!

Lisinda: steps forward and tickles Whelsten's sides.

Whelsten: loses his stride and leaps to one side to avoid the tickling.

Brenna: ENTER flits onto the stage, her moth-like wings keeping her a few inches
off the ground, and throws a ball towards Lisinda.

Lisinda: tries to leap to catch the ball, but it flies wide and high, landing
somewhere behind the scrim.

Whelsten: No fair, tickling is cheating!

Lisinda: (turning to look after the ball) If you want the ball so bad, you go
get it! Bet there's a shambler in those trees anyway.

Whelsten: (bounding after the ball, weaving through the trees) We're not that
far into the old city, no shamblers to worry about.

Brenna: (pushing her glasses up her nose) Actually this is farther than we've
ever come this way.

Lisinda: (following Whelsten) Yeah, but not that far!

Whelsten: leads the girls through the trees on a winding path.

SCENE Spice2: Dozens of hanging drops of cloth, gauzy and translucent, have been
painted with images of trees and then hung in a seemingly random scattering
around the stage, giving the appearance of a young forest full of places to
hide, while still allowing the audience the chance to see the actors as they
move between and amongst them. A few boulders lie here and there, strangely
squarish, as those left behind by ruins now overgrown with moss. A ribbon of
blue silk stretches across the stage, the rhythmic movement given it by
stagehands somewhere offstage making it resemble a peaceful but energetic
stream. To one side, a tree crosses the stream; early in its life, a wind blew
it completely over, but it recovered, trunk bending back to a vertical, so that
the horizontal part forms a living bridge over the stream.

EFFECT Q2 (6): As the trio wend through the trees, the scrim rises, revealing
the previously concealed part of the stage, where a fallen tree forms a living
bridge over the stream. Astride the bridge sits a venerable old elfen man,
strumming an equally aged mandolin and singing.

ROLE Meredec (M): Meredec

COSTUME MeredecCostume (Meredec): The years, and many of them, show in every
line of this elfen man's face and body, and even in his rumpled, tattered
clothes and the battered mandolin that hangs in his lap. An ancient vitality
resides in his twinkling eyes, but it must perforce dwell amongst a sea of
wrinkles lined with scars and the rugged, weather-worn features of a face that
has endured much and seen even more. His close-cropped hair is black as night,
with a sheen of silver speckling it like the reflection of moonlight.

Meredec: ENTER sits astride the living bridge, singing a line about a heroic
battle, then stopping with a frown, and trying it again with slightly different
wording and chords.

Whelsten: draws to a sudden stop, transfixed by the sight of the old man on the
tree bridge.

Meredec: abruptly stops his strumming and stares at the children, his gaze
intense, piercing, and harsh.

Brenna: bumps into Whelsten and stops to gape in fear.

Lisinda: (in an awestruck, frightened voice) Sorry, venerable elder, we, umm, we
were just playing, and didn't mean to... to interrupt your...

Meredec: continues to stare icily for a moment, then smiles warmly, the tension
melting away almost instantly.

Meredec: It's all right, children. I wasn't getting anywhere with this verse
anyway, the darned thing refuses to rhyme. But what are you doing so far into
the old ruins? There are still shamblers here once in a while.

Whelsten: (shocked) Really? I thought that was just a story that old people
told... Meaning no disrespect, honored elder.

Meredec: (with a merry twinkle) Well, not very often, admittedly, but it does
happen. It may look like forest, but there's still a few vestiges of the city
we haven't healed yet.

Brenna: (taking a hesitant step forward) Elder...

Meredec: You can call me Meredec, dear.

Brenna: (gathering courage) Elder Meredec...

Meredec: Just Meredec is fine. These bones are old enough without you reminding
them to ache and creak.

Brenna: ...what was the song you were creating?

Meredec: (looking around) A history of the last battle fought here, when it was
a city. That's why I came here to write it, to remember.

Lisinda: (picking up the ball) To remember what?

Meredec: Why, the battle, of course.

Whelsten: It was a real life honest to goodness battle with swords and blood and
glory and everything? Right here?

Brenna, to Whelsten: Of course not, don't be silly, those things are only in
songs.

Meredec: sets his mandolin on his lap, amused.

Whelsten: The songs have to come from somewhere! Once a long time ago there
were cities and warriors and great battles and heroism and killing!

Lisinda: (jabbing Whelsten in the ribs) Be quiet, you're making a fool of
yourself in front of the elder.

Brenna: (thoughtfully adjusting her glasses) Do you mean you remember the
battle, revered-- Meredec?

Meredec: (nodding) Yes, I fought in that battle.

Lisinda: But you're a bard, not a warrior!

Meredec: Long ago, this mandolin was a weapon in its own right. All these
bruises on the wood are the scars of battle.

Lisinda: You hit people with it?

Meredec: (with an easy laugh) Sometimes, yes, but I also wielded the magic of
music itself.

Whelsten: (his eyes lighting up) Was there blood and glory?

Meredec: There was much heroism, yes, but there was also pain, the loss of
comrades and friends, some never to be seen again. The war had gone on longer
than your life, a dozen times over, and we were all exhausted.

Whelsten: (bouncing excitedly) But you heroically persevered and triumphed,
right? Right?

Meredec: (laughing again) I look forward to having you in my audiences, young
lad. What's your name?

Whelsten: Whelsten, sir.

Meredec: (gravely) Well, Whelsten, we did persevere, but it wasn't like the
stories. It was grueling and often felt purposeless. We fought ourselves as
often as our enemies. There was no time for anything else, no time to remind
yourself of beauty, of the things you fought to defend. For many years, most of
our battles were with the wrong people, over the wrong things.

Brenna: Like what?

Meredec: Well, for more than a century, the forests spent most of their time
fighting against each other.

Lisinda: (sputtering) Now you're just making things up!

Meredec: (with a light laugh) No, it's true.

Lisinda: sits down on the stream's bank to listen closely.

Meredec: The legacy of taint made everyone mistake the meaning of wyrd for so
long, it took the Maeve more than a hundred years to unify the forests, and even
then, it was decades before the ire of so much blood was washed away with the
last traces of the taint.

Brenna: And then you turned on the cities, right?

Meredec: (chuckling) Something like that. There was a while fighting the
Soulless first, and... well, that's a story for another day. Actually, many
stories, for many days.

Whelsten: So many triumphs and legends, I want to hear them all! I wish I could
be a warrior.

Meredec, to Whelsten: Some relished battle, but I was never one of those.
Neither was I a pacifist, though some called me such. We fought because we had
to, most of us, and we wished for a time we might not have to.

Brenna: Like now.

Meredec: (beaming at the girl) Exactly. We fought for a hundred years so you
might be safe, and free not to fight.

Whelsten: But! But but but, don't you miss the excitement, the glory?

Meredec: considers a moment, then shakes his head.

Meredec: (with a wry twinkle in his eye) It is far better, now, that the forests
are reunited, the cities are thrown down, the Soulless laid to rest for once and
all. Now we have time for joy, and song, and family, and all the things that
fill a life.

Whelsten: But isn't it boring?

Meredec: seems about to say something when his eyes narrow, focusing into the
distance, and he quietly picks up his mandolin and gestures to the children.

Lisinda: (jumping up) What, what's going on?

Meredec: (urgently, as he stands up) Shhh, stay still and quiet.

Brenna: turns and looks offstage, then shrieks.

Meredec: groans at the cry, then leaps with a surprisingly acrobatic tumble
across the stream, landing halfway across the stage in an alert posture.

EFFECT Shambler1 (0): A shaggy, lumbering beast covered in tatters of mismatched
fur and skin lurches onto stage, heading towards the children.

Whelsten: turns and stares, gape-jawed, stumbling back a few steps and almost
falling into the stream.

Meredec: charges towards the shambler and swings his mandolin with all his
might, smashing it into the beast's head with a resounding ring.

EFFECT Shambler2 (0): The beast howls, but its advance is stopped by the blow.

Lisinda: recovers enough wits to look around for a good-sized rock.

Meredec: directs an agonizing musical interval at the beast, whose ears begin to
bleed.

EFFECT Shambler3 (0): The beast pummels Meredec with crude blows backed by
incredible strength, driving him back.

Brenna: (pushing up her glasses) They say they can sense groups of people. We
must have lured it here.

Meredec: unstoppers a vial with trembling hands and drinks deeply, then plays
another screeching wail at the beast.

EFFECT Shambler4 (0): The beast spreads its arms wide and spins clockwise,
causing a shimmering white orb to spring up around it.

Whelsten: Oh gods, it's going to eat us, it's going to eat us all!

Meredec: appears to play something on his mandolin, but no sound emerges.

EFFECT Shambler5 (0): The orb of protection around the beast suddenly
dissipates.

Lisinda: throws her rock at the beast, hitting it squarely on the head, causing
it to stumble back.

Meredec: plays an unusually loud screech on his mandolin, causing the beast to
collapse, mottled grey blood seeping out of its ears.

PAUSE

Meredec: slowly catches his breath.

Whelsten: Is... is it dead?

Meredec: nods slowly.

Brenna: (tiptoeing forward) Very interesting. Should we bring it back for
study?

Meredec: No need, we know what they are, we remember how they were made.

Lisinda: What are they?

Meredec: They are... another story for another day.

Brenna: Honored elder, are you all right?

Meredec: (looking down at himself) I think so. I guess there's still some
spring in these old sinews.

Whelsten: (slowly at first as he recovers his wits) That... was... so cool!
That was the coolest thing ever!

Meredec: (with a wry smile) I suppose maybe I did miss it a little bit.

Lisinda: Miss what?

Meredec: The excitement of battle. It answers that question: what would it take
for me to yearn for it, to relish it? I suppose the answer is, a very long
peace.

Brenna: Do you wish things had gone differently?

Meredec: No. My time passes, and with it, the time for battle, and for the love
of battle. If your world is one where little boys and girls can merely dream of
the glory of war, then that is all the triumph and hope we need.

Whelsten: If we can only dream of glory, we need to know all the tales to dream
by!

Meredec: (beckoning) Come, children, let's go somewhere safer, and I can tell
you some of the stories of how we built this world. Don't worry, Whelsten,
there'll be no shortage of battles.

EFFECT Q3 (6): As the old bard leads the children off-stage, the light slowly
fades.

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