Quest - The Greater Carbuncle

Well, he certainly was expecting to show up here once more. After that marvelous debut night in the depths of Stokbon, the sheer laugh-out-loud comedy that was The Great Carbuncle had gathered a rather grand following. There were Lames x Sherdock shippers, Sherdock x Arine shippers, Arine x Lames shippers, all of them fiercely defending their flagships with the violent aggression of truly rabid followers of the Carbuncleverse, where mysteries took to the background compared to the romantic subplot, and where the undead could birth new unlife with little to no problem. If it was in the Other Side, the show would no doubt be panned as a mockery of theatre and improvised comedy, but here? In Standard Fantasy Medieval Land™? Most of the residents of Terrasphere had never even entertained shows that were this wild, this meaningless, this taboo-breaking!

And thus, with Lachlan Faye’s request, he was standing before the stage once more, as stage hands tossed alchemical pyrotechnics around, hyping up the crowd for yet another grand, masterful performance by a madman whose desire for entertainment knew no limits. Though the stage within Dunnstads was much smaller than the grand theatres of Falderen’s grand capital, its audience was many times more rowdy, having already had their fill of alcohol. So naturally, naturally this was a perfect fit for Cain Darlite, the Flagbearer of Miracles, the Prima Donna, the Thousand-Faced Thespian. No, there was no Cain. He was merely, ultimately, without a doubt, the sinister counterpart to the great detective. There was no taboo he would not break. There was no god that he prayed to. There was no amount of evil he wasn’t willing to plunge head first into. His name was Lames Joriarty. His occupation was that of a priest. And his masterplan?

To slay Death, the tyrant that ruled callously, undemocratically, over the lives of both the living and the dead. They all had command over great magics of resurrection, did they not? They all had the power to bring others back to life, did they not? And yet, YET! So many still think of this as the proper way of things. That the dead should stay dead, laden with regrets as they were. That the living should have no say over their own demise, cruel as that was. He was but a liberator! Someone who sought to overthrow this unfair ‘natural cycle’, and bring forth an era where humanity, no, where all sentiency could decide!

“And that,” Lames said, twirling his staff dramatically, “Is why I will start with you, Arine Dedler.”

A dark chuckle sounded through his moustached lips as the tall, imposing undead gentleman strode towards his captive victim. Oh, Sherdock was a powerful foe indeed, but even that man had his weaknesses. To fall in love! What a blunder by such a rational individual. Heeled shoes clicked as he strode closer and closer, each step deliberately slower than the last. There was tension there now, a menacing pressure as the orchestra swelled in anticipation for the dark horrors he was to unleash.

“Rejoice!” The mad man roared, raising his staff up towards the blind heavens. “And resurrect! Crumble into the world of the living once more, Arine, and know that even the great detective himself will be unable to save you! My fortress is immaculate, impenetrable, and infallible! With this resurrection, this unholy reversal of unlife and life, tremble!”

Thunderous cymbals clapped as a blinding silver radiance burst into life on stage. A winterly wind blasted through as his long coat billowed dramatically, writhing like the living shadows of a demonic beast. His monocle flared with sinister lighting effects, a crimson red complimenting his midnight-purple ponytail. The audience 'oooh'ed and Cain almost sighed. Sorta sad that it was the magical special effects and not his acting that got the crowd excited but…

“Now! RISE!!!!”

Thrown die:

51

@Magdalyn @Alkali

 

The collective gasps of the audience, their murmurs of awe and approval, were like sweet music to Magdalyn's ears.

Even if the reactions were not for her, she still loved them, basked in them, and let them propel her already racing heart. Her partner was already wowing the crowd, and she was eager to do the same. Or, at the very least, attempt to do so. It had been many years since Mags had set foot on a stage - how long ago had she graduated from high school? But theater had been her passion, and had she been a bit more daring, perhaps even her future. Her sights had been set on teaching, and it was the safer, more comfortable option. Leave Chicago and New York City to the more adventurous types, she had finally decided. But a part of her had always longed for the stage. Now, finally, she had it.

Lachlan Faye's offer had caught her by surprise. "You look the type!" he had insisted when she inquired, interest piqued by a help wanted poster. "The type" could have been a star with every line, or an extra with none, for all she cared. Hell, the blue-eyed thespian was willing to stand in the background, holding up a piece of set, if it meant feeling that rush just one more time. And she felt it there, in the wings, waiting for her cue. Or, what she deemed her cue - there were no actual scripts. At first, that notion had worried her, considering she had grown rusty. Now, it only fed the fire that roared in her belly, the excitement raising goosebumps up and down her arms.

Sherdock Bones. One brilliant bastard, though a little drug-dependent. And the whole cult thing? She could probably make that work.

So as her nemesis belted out (what she assumed was) his final line, Mags exploded from backstage, her blue eyes wide and wild. She swung her gaze, as if searching for something, and even eyed the crowd for good measure. When she finally rest it on Cain, she pointed an accusing finger in his direction. He was supposedly closed up within an impregnable hideout, and she had to give the impression she was speaking to him from afar. Without proper blocking and set, it was difficult, but she could make do. At least she looked the part, in an impressive suit, her long hair piled beneath her detective's cap.

"Lames Joriaty!" she called, her heart fluttering as she heard her own voice fill the space. "The fair Arine Deadler has gone missing, and I am confident that you have taken her. Release her to me, or I shall destroy both you and your fortress!"

Okay, and how was she going to do that? Cool your jets, she scolded herself. Don't get carried away. If she let herself get too showy, she could ruin everything.

@Cain Darlite

Thrown die:

60

 

Oho, that was certainly an interesting way of doing this. Though Cain had expected a bombastic entrance instead, crashing open the doors to the depths of his lair with the intelligence and flair of a true masterful detective, this effort was nice as well. Magdalyn sure knew how to come up with fun scenarios! Ignorant of the crowd himself, the midnight haired muse immersed himself fully in the world of imagination as he grinned ferally, the very picture of a madman. Magic ceased to radiate from his unholy staff as he looked about, bemused and befuddled at where exactly the voice was booming from. Stalking about, the mad priest fumbled about with invisible instruments, pulses of magic and light making up for the lack of props, before he cackled wildly, as if dry bones click clacked against each other. Dark eyes, smoldering with guarded hatred and voracious respect, locked onto the form of Sherdock Bones, his grand nemesis.

“To think you have found my fortress so easily, Sherdock,” Lames half-snarled, his voice becoming a booming crescendo as it echoed through the numerous hallways of the nefarious snare, “As expected of my greatest nemesis! But is the destruction of my fortress truly the wisest decision, Great Detective? You’ve never found the whereabouts of your partner, Moan Watson, right? Nor your much too intelligent brother, Wycoff Bones?!”

He cackled more maniacally, back bending backwards in villainous glee as the undead priest mocked the detective’s passion and genius, already confident that the white king was checkmated. To play with unknown variables, to abuse the advantage of information he had over his foe, oh, nothing pleased him more than this!

“Your love for this skeletal wench has made you weak, made you blind,” he spat, another surge of magical power eliciting a horrid scream from the captive Arine, “And your love of scientific reasoning has blinded you to the truth! It is not the world that rules over us, but us who rules over the world! Time and time again, undeath has rearranged the natural order of things to improve our circumstances, and does it not make sense to do so once more?! To gain dominion over life and death, to ascend to the stars above! To enter a new frontier of humanity and to become the pioneers of the heavens! Sherdock, I’ll give you a singular chance. Work with me. Walk away from this and leave your gossamer lover to become one of the living once more, and I shall show you the true utopia that you so desire.”

One bony hand raised up to the skies, before an audible finger snap sounded, followed by the growling of various monstrosities. Serpentine hisses, lupine growls, draconic roars, accompanied by the grinding of gears and ululating of nightmare traps that would crush bone into dust. Oh, the madman’s labyrinth was alive now, ghastly creatures and dozens of booby traps sprung to life with that one finger snap.

“Challenge me though, and meet your demise! The fate of the world shall be determined today, Great Detective! Stagnation and Progression! The Status Quo and the Avant Garde! Upon this pinnacle, let us see who shall rise above, and who shall be cast back down unto the yawning abyss!”

Thrown die:

99