Act I - Rollara
Scene I: Rollara's kitchen.
Characters: Rollara and Nyssi.
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The curtain opens to reveal a cozy kitchen and two women sitting at a table eating breakfast. The sun shines through the open window and the faint scent of both sulfur and incense wafts in, creating a not unpleasant counterpoint to the smell of the recently cooked food.

Nyssi: Don't eat so fast, Rollara. You'll give yourself a stomachache.

Rollara: (hastily chewing and swallowing her mouthfull before speaking) Sorry. I just don't want to be late again.

Rollara: (picking up more food on her fork) Orlenn gets ridiculously passive aggressive if you're even two minutes late.

Rollara: (speaking just before shoving the forkful of food into her mouth) It's so annoying.

Nyssi: (lips quirked and belying her stern tone) Perhaps he wouldn't be like that if you weren't late quite so often?

Rollara rolls her eyes as she pointedly chews her food without responding.

Nyssi: (leaning forward earnestly) You ought to be too excited to be late anyway. It isn't often a scholar your age gets invited to participate in such an important project. Rollara pauses midchew, her expression hesitant for just a moment before she resumes chewing even quicker. Once she has swallowed, she sighs.

Rollara: It is a wonderful opportunity, of course.

Nyssi: (frowning a bit) You don't -sound- like you're talking about a wonderful opportunity, Rollara.

Rollara: (sighing again and shrugging) It is. And I'm proud I was picked to help with the project. I just...

Nyssi: (leaning back in her chair, staring at Rollara with a slight crease between her brows) Just?

Rollara opens her mouth, pauses, and closes it again before shrugging. She scoops up the last of her breakfast and quickly shoves it into her mouth.

Nyssi purses her lips as she continues to regard her daughter.

Nyssi: You realize that you have something your father worked for decades to accomplish? Being invited to this project at your age. Nothing has ever made him prouder.

Rollara winces a bit before hiding the expression as she chews.

Nyssi: This isn't more of the foolishness you were spouting last spring?

Rollara: (sighing again) No mama. That was just me being silly.

Nyssi: (narrowing her eyes at her daughter before changing tracks) You know they say this is the City of Freedom and they like to claim they are better than the merians over in New Celest, or the Hallifaxians, but how many humans do you see running things in Gaudiguch?

Rollara: (slumping in her seat) Mom...

Nyssi: (leaning closer) I'm serious, Rollara. If you're not dracnari...

Rollara: (standing up abruptly from the table) Really, I have to go. I will be late and Orlenn will get his -elfen- panties in a twist.

Nyssi: (crossing her arms and muttering darkly) Orlenn probably knows I'm right.

Rollara pretends she doesn't hear her mother as she gathers her heavy bag full of parchment and scrolls and quills and ledgers from the empty seat next to her.

Rollara bends and kisses her mother on the cheek as she passes by before hurrying out the door.

Nyssi sighs as she gathers up the dishes from the table.

The curtain closes briefly as the stage goes dark.
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Act I - Rollara
Scene II: A study alcove.
Characters: Rollara and Orlenn.
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The curtain opens on a long table in a small alcove of the city library where several scholars are working. The sound of quills scratching along parchment and pages being turned, along with the occasional quiet mutter can be heard.

Rollara slips into the alcove and drops into an empty seat. She ignores the glances of a few nearby scholars and begins pulling pages out of her bag.

Orlenn: (in a singsong voice as he turns a page in the book he is studying without looking up) Someone's late.

Rollara sticks her tongue out at Orlenn.

Orlenn: (still without looking up) Did you bring the Xyliic study with you? We were looking for it earlier, before you finally arrived, I mean.

Rollara grits her teeth and pulls a large rolled up scroll from her pack and hands it to him before finishing setting up her workspace.

Orlenn takes the offered scroll before making a tutting sound with his teeth.

Orlenn: Thank you. Now we can fill in the information we were trying to...

Rollara (leaning forward and interrupting with a hiss) Oh stop it. I wasn't -that- late.

Orlenn: (looking up finally, his eyes boring into Rollara) If you're going to be late at all you shouldn't take important research materials with you.

Rollara takes a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth, counting slowly as she does so. Finally, she forces a smile.

Rollara: You're right, of course. It won't happen again.

Orlenn returns his gaze to his parchment as he makes a non-committal hmph sound, clearly not believing her.

Rollara sighs and unrolls another, much smaller scroll. She then scans the ledger she's opened up in front of her to check where she'd left off. She traces her finger down a list of measurements on the scroll until she finds what she is looking for and stops, marking the
measurement into the ledger.

Rollara and Orlenn and the other scholars work quietly for several minutes before Rollara sighs again. This time a bit louder than before.

Rollara waits a bit and then sighs one more time, even more exaggeratedly than she did the second time.

Orlenn: (pressing his lips together in clear irritation) What is the matter, Rollara?

Rollara sets down her quill immediately, no longer even pretending to work.

Rollara: I chickened out again.

Orlenn: (sighing himself this time) You know I hate when you use your human colloquialisms.

Rollara: (waving her hand dismissively) Please. Last week you told Jemia to bite your ass.
Orlenn: (setting his quill down stiffly) She was trying to make an argument -for- using a substandard...

Rollara: (rolling her eyes) My -point- is, stop being such a priss and let me whine about my cowardice.

Orlenn: (picking up his quill again) I don't know why it's so hard to tell your parents you want to do something different with your life than what they planned. Do you think -my- parents wanted me to move to Gaudiguch of all places?

Rollara: No.

Orlenn: No. I got around it by just not telling them. They found out I was doing it when I packed my bag and walked out the door.

Rollara: (leaning back in her seat) You know that sounds a lot like running away.
Orlenn: (pointedly ignoring the observation as he begins writing again) You should just do it, is all I'm saying. Then, you wouldn't have to worry about being on time anymore at any rate.

Rollara (muttering) By all the Divine, Orlenn, I was like five minutes late.

The curtain closes as the stage dims.
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Act II - Wyclissa
Scene I: A cluttered shop.
Character: Wyclissa
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The curtains open to reveal a stuffy and cramped shop, overfilled with merchandise. The clerk is standing behind the counter and a customer is chatting with her.

Wyclissa nods along with what the customer is saying, a practiced smile on her face.

Continuing her rather one-sided conversation, the customer says, "So, what was I supposed to do? Just let them walk all over me?"

Wyclissa: (offering a supportive smile) Of course not.

The customer nods vigorously and says, "Of course not! I told them exactly what I thought of that, let me tell you. I don't let people treat me any which way they like."

Wyclissa: (reaching for the items the customer is holding) Of course not, you have to stand up for yourself.

The customer, either not noticing or ignoring Wyclissa's attempt to take the items, continues, "But do you know what happened next?"

Wyclissa (hesitating, as if considering just yanking the items away from the customer, but then finally lowering her hands) No, what?

Speaking in a shocked tone, the customer says, "They had the audacity to tell me to leave the store! As if -I- were the one causing a scene. As if they hadn't just spoken to me like that!"
Wyclissa (shaking her head in feigned regret) I can't imagine.

Nodding vigorously, the customer says, "Well, I wasn't going to stay of course. After having been treated so shabbily? I came here straight away. I know your proprietor knows how to take care of his customers."

Wyclissa (nodding in exaggerated agreement) He prides himself on every customer leaving his store happy.

The customer says, her tone ripe with self-importance, "As well he should. The customer is always right you know."

Wyclissa (continuing to nod) I do know. My employer makes sure all of his staff understand that. Can I take those from you? I can have them packaged and ring you up in a moment.

The customer freezes and blinks at Wyclissa before uttering a harrumph and shoving the items at her. "I suppose if you're in such a hurry."

Wyclissa makes short work of jotting down the price from the tag of each item and adding the figures.

Wyclissa: (wrapping the items into neat packages) That will be 248 gold, please.

The customer counts out the coins from her purse stiffly and hands over the requested amount, taking her packages in return before heading toward the door.

The customer pauses and says, "You should request some more training on customer relations. I have a mind to speak to the proprietor about you."

Wyclissa: (looking regretfully at the customer) I will be sure to do that. You have a lovely evening.

The customer harrumphs one more time before shoving her way out the door.

Wyclissa visibly deflates and breathes out a long breath. She hurries to the door to turn the latch before someone else walks in.

Wyclissa walks back to the counter shaking her head and laughing.

The curtain closes as the stage dims.
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Act II - Wyclissa.
Scene II - A busy street.
Characters: Wyclissa and Orlenn.
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The curtain opens to reveal a busy street, bustling with people on their way home for the evening.

Wyclissa adjusts the straps of the bag she carries as she walks down the street. She is not keeping pace with the passersby and earns more than a few dirty looks as people move to go around her.

Orlenn is walking in the opposite direction, shuffling through several sheets of parchment as he walks.

Wyclissa: (raising her voice to catch his attention) Orlenn!

Orlenn pauses, as if considering pretending he didn't hear, but seems to decide it was too late for that because he stops walking and shoves the sheets into his shoulder bag.

Orlenn: Hello Wyclissa. You've had a pleasant day, I hope?

Wyclissa: (grinning in amusement) Pretty good thanks. You?

Orlenn: (dryly) Your girlfriend was late again today.

Wyclissa: (clutching at her chest) Oh no! It derailed the entire project, didn't it?

Orlenn: (ignoring the sarcastic tone) Of course not. But it was inconvenient. You should speak to her about it.

Wyclissa: (sighing) What is it with people wanting me to -talk- to people about things today?

Orlenn raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Wyclissa: (waving dismissively) Never mind. Was she -really- late or just a few minutes and it put your nose out of joint because you're a sad stick?

Orlenn: (ignoring the question entirely) You might also speak to her about the fact that she doesn't even want to -be- a scholar. One would think, as her girlfriend, you'd be encouraging her to follow her dreams and all that.

Wyclissa: I tried.

Orlenn: (another eyebrow raised) Oh?

Wyclissa: (shrugging wryly) Let's just say it didn't go over very well with the family.

The curtain closes as the stage dims.
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Act III - Rollara and Wyclissa
Scene: A cluttered bedroom.
Characters: Rollara and Wyclissa.
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The curtain opens to reveal Rollara sitting on her bed in the middle of the room, dressed for sleeping. The large window to the room is slightly ajar, allowing sounds from the city to filter in along with what little breeze there is.

Rollara sits and stares pensively out the window for a few moments before sighing and rising to her feet.

Rollara walks over to the door to the room and shuts it, engaging the latch, before returning to the bed where she crouches down beside it.

Rollara reaches under the bed and pulls out a long, rectangular box. She runs her hands over the scuffed marks on the surface before unlatching the lid and opening it.

Rollara pulls a guitar out of the box, maneuvering it carefully so the instrument doesn't bump against the bed or the box itself before standing with it in her hands.

Rollara settles back down onto the bed and carefully positions the fingers of her left hand on the strings along the neck as she runs the fingers of her right hand over the strings lower down.

Rollara doesn't press the fingers of either hand hard enough to make more than the ghost of a sound, but a tune can be made out. After a few moments she begins humming very softly along with the tune.

Rollara continues for some time like this before a sound at the window distracts her. She looks up and smiles.

Rollara: (setting the guitar on the bed and beckoning) Come on in.

Wyclissa pushes the window further open and crawls inside.

Wyclissa (dropping her bag on the floor) Hey you.

Rollara: (tilting her head to look up at Wyclissa) Hey you.

Wyclissa leans down and kisses Rollara before scooting the guitar out of the way and sitting beside her.

Wyclissa: (adopting a mock-stern expression) I heard you were late again today.

Rollara buries her face in her hands and groans.

Rollara: (without removing her face from her hands) It was five minutes.

Wyclissa: (grinning) I knew it!

Rollara (finally sitting back up straight) I hate Orlenn.

Wyclissa: (laughing outright) No you don't.

Rollara (conceding with a sigh) No, I don't.

Wyclissa (scooting closer to Rollara and leaning against her) You know, I think he's actually worried about you and just showing it in his usual Orlenn way.

Rollara (making a face and leaning into Wyclissa as well) I know. I do. I just wish he found a less bitchy way to express himself.

The two of them sit quietly for a few minutes before Wyclissa breaks the companionable silence.

Wyclissa: (glancing over Rollara's shoulder at the guitar) You still haven't told them?

Rollara: (grimacing) No. Everytime I even hint at it they both act like I'm planning on assasinating the Sultan or something. Hell, Mom would probably prefer it.

Rollara: She's got it in her head that Gaudiguch hates humans.

Wyclissa: (nodding thoughtfully) Well you are weird.

Wyclissa: (lifting Rollara's arm and peering at it suspiciously) You are covered in all these tiny hairs, but not enough of them to be considered "hairy." It's bizarre.

Rollara: (laughing and pulling her arm back) You haven't seen my father without a shirt on.

Wyclissa (pulling her lips back in a grimace of disgust) And I hope I never do.

Rollara: (continuing with a grin) He's so hairy that if he weren't actually an inch or so shorter than me, I'd think he had igasho blood.

Wyclissa laughs.

Rollara: (her expression turning pensive) My mom grew up in Hallifax and I think she just carries that with her. You know what they're like over there.

Wyclissa: (no longer laughing) Yes. If you aren't trill or lucidian, you're nobody.

Rollara: Exactly. She has it in her head that it's like that everywhere, I guess.

Rollara: (sighing) She wants me to be a great, important scholar because she never got to be one when she was my age, and she gave up on it. She wants me to prove the whole Basin wrong about humans.

Rollara: (dropping her head onto Wyclissa's shoulder) And my father wants me to be one to prove everyone right about him. That he's passed his Great Big Brain on to me, and our family is destined to do Great Things.

Wyclissa: I can -hear- the capital letters in that.

Rollara huffs a laugh.

Wyclissa: (tilting her head to rest on top of Rollara's) But what do -you- want?

Rollara is quiet for a long moment before sighing.

Rollara: (standing up and beginning to clear the bed) I want to go to bed.

Wyclissa: (sighing a little but standing and helping to unclutter the bed) Ok. Hey, how long am I going to have to keep coming in through the window?

Rollara: (grinning over at her) Just until my mother forgives you.

Wyclissa: So, forever?

Rollara: (shaking her head) Nah, my dad really likes you. We're both working on her about it.

Wyclissa hums in approval.

The curtain closes as the stage dims.
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Appendix
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Scenes and props:

A cozy kitchen - This small kitchen is quite cozy, with a stove in the far-right corner. The counter is neatly organized and lined with ceramic containers of various sizes which are arranged from smallest to largest along the wall. A round table with four chairs takes up much of the floor space.

Prop: A large round table with four chairs. Made of wood and clearly well cared for, this table's well-oiled surface gleams. The shine in the lamplight does not hide the fact that it is also well worn from years and years of meals served and eaten. Four chairs, two of them newer than the others and one that has clearly been repaired sit around the table.

Prop: This stove is old and designed for coal burning. The grate in the front, where the coal goes in glows gently, revealing the banked fire within. There is a large pot of something bubbling on the surface which smells very good.

A study alcove - A small alcove separated from the rest of the library by several shelves. There is no door, but there is a large table and several chairs. One end of this table has several scholars seated and the other is covered in books opened to particular pages and survey maps laid out. Several bottles of ink populate the area between, and each scholar is busily writing notations onto parchment as they read some scroll or ledger. There is a large map of the Basin of Life hanging on the wall behind them.

Prop: This map of the Basin of Life takes up almost the entire wall and is made of several large animal skins which have been cut into rectangles after having been worked into parchment. Each sheet of parchment was then attached to the others, forming one large surface upon which a topographical map of the Basin has been drawn in painstaking detail.

Prop: Several scholars are seated around this long table. Most of them are dracnari, though a few other races are represented as well. Each of them has their heads angled toward their work as they scritch words onto parchment. Occasionally one will reach out to dip a quill into a pot of ink before continuing.

A cluttered shop - This shop is not very large, but every conceivable space has been filled with merchandise. There are only a few aisles, but they are all narrow and dimly lit. The smell of incense is strong as several sticks are kept burning throughout the place. The counter is cluttered with yet more stock and there hardly seems to be room for the clerk to stand behind the till.

Prop: A customer, a dracnari with pale green scales and thin golden chains hanging from the horns that line the sides of their head, loiters near the counter. They are holding a few items as they chat obliviously with the clerk. The lateness of the day seemingly lost on them.

A busy street - The street is narrow here, buildings crowding in on both sides. The heat is oppressive, and embers dance along in the breeze. In the distance, the pyramid can be seen, the silhouette of Drachou flitting about nearby. People are hurrying along, on their way home from their places of work or meditation at the end of the day.

A cluttered bedroom - This rather small bedroom could best be described with the words, "Organized Chaos." Stacks of books and scrolls cover the desk in the corner of the room, as well as the seat of the nearby chair. The dresser is also covered in scrolls and parchment and empty ink wells. The drawers are opened with clothing hanging from them. The floor is clear of clutter, but there is not much of it as a rather large bed takes up much of the center of the room. There is a window, slightly ajar on the wall opposite the door and almost every other inch of the remaining walls are filled with maps and charts which have been pinned up.

Prop: The bed in the center of the room is as cluttered as the room itself. It looks as if it has never been made, with sheets bunched up and hanging halfway off the mattress. At the end, articles of clothing have been laid out and left there. In the center of the bed, several sheets of parchment with long lines of numerals in rows sit.

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Characters and Costumes:

Rollara Arthim: A tall human woman, just turned twenty. Her hair is a riot of red curls, and her face is covered in freckles. She has blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. Her hands are stained with ink that even several washings have only faded, and her nails are chewed short.

Wyclissa Xorith: A short dracnari woman, just turned twenty. Her scales are mottled green with flecks of yellow and brown along the edges and her eyes are pale yellow. Well-manicured claws tip each graceful finger and hear tail, which twitches back and forth restlessly when she is bored is whip thin. She has several bony ridges that run along the line of her brows.

Nyssi Arthim: A prim, matronly woman who keeps her red hair in a tight braid, though wispy curls have escaped to fly about her face. There is no grey in evidence in her hair, but crow's feet around her eyes and lines on her forehead mark her age. She wears a pair of spectacles on a chain around her neck, for easy access to when she is reading.

Orlenn Greyleaf: He is a thin elfen man with light green skin and darker green hair. His eyes are brown and almond shaped, and his nose is thin as a knife's edge. He wears a vaguely disapproving expression at all times and his long, elegant fingers are stained with ink.