The Kingfisher's Dive

Dramatis Personae

Reynald, first king of Altalusia
Ranhi, daughter of the king

generals of the king's army

Harunh
Bhim


march lords and petty barons
Delatreux
Ghulan
Paramvinh
Lailahni


wizards and witches
Sangsot
Angus
Caithens
Beatrix


the jesters three, the Clownery

the mercenaries Kingfisher
Mantegro, captain of the Kingfishers.
Philipe , bastard brother to Mantegro, lieutenant of the Kingfishers.
Ardun, sergeant at arms of the Kingfishers.
Branco, company medicant.


Alehanis, praetor of Seax and leader of the Imperial Forces
Pirimdas, primus khashatrii under Alehanis.
An Old Man
The Heron Blade


Prelude

Enter the troubles and tribulations of a nascent kingdom. Freshly formed from the fragments of a peoples, long grown tired of a distant master's yolk.

Rebels, brigands, outlaws, they were all branded, for they defied the rightful rule. So ordained and written into edict. So proclaimed by those Barons and March Lords still loyal to Arshakan vestige, so far and to the north as the valleys of Thalo, where green pastures bare much harvest, and the slumbering aurochs rests.

A king, chosen amongst the rabble of petty lords and pettier knights. But a mason by trade. No drop of noble blood in him, save that blood so willing to spill. For their cause. For their land. For the dream that would become, fair Altalusia.

So our tale begins. Amidst the great turmoil beset upon the land. Not by the king's side, no, but upon the field, before two souls, common as any other. Called to this king and his cause, perchance, called by the glitter of gold and the fame that could come, more like. Unwitting of all the great cruelties, and all the great jokes that would await them.

As the Kingfisher's Dive.


Act 1
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Scene 1
Bluster and Wind. Enter Mantegro with Philipe

Mantegro - Tarry no longer, brother mine, for my blade seeks too eager its wicked work, my hand moved by the mere promise we might be free of this dreadful time.

Philipe - Calm thyself, brother! Steady thine hand! The iron storm approaches. Doth thou see it?

We cannot hope to withstand it, so fierce does it grow. But fret not! I have a plan.

Attend, we must, to the enemy within. Listen, they will, to you, oh brother mine. And if they do not...

Montegro - Then I cannot hold to any hope, save that iron mine own hand can hold.

Philipe - So quick to the iron, without one word yet told, less then those shared. Steady, I pray, steady, and stay that cold culling that comes so quick to thee. If not, as your wiser had begun-

Montegro - None the wiser then that night where in you found fire there below.

Philipe - You wound me.

Montegro - No more than you have wounded yourself, praying to skirts, and giving to cheeks that which-

Philipe - And even so! Dear brother, and still, I pray you pay your trust to me. For follies we both have a plenty, and virtues there too, however different they may be.

Montegro - Let there be no doubt of that.

Philipe - Never any doubt, fair Montegro, save that doubt you have in me.

Montegro - I meant no harm in it.

Philipe - Ah, but I did mean play in it. Come then, that we might discuss the storm to come, and how your virtue, and mine own cunning might save us all some woe.
 
Act 1
-

Scene 2
Mist and Pine. Enter a circle of wood witches and hedge wizards, Beatrix, Caithens, Angus, Sangsot, before an effigy of cedar and pine.

Beatrix - Come the calling of the crow and the stirring of the bear, what tidings are there for us to spare?

Angus - What tidings, but those of roil and ruin.

Caithens - Do not despair, good Angus, that might we find means through this.

Angus - That might we find fields of salt, and lands despoiled. Nay, I see not but that which has come before, and then may come again..

Sangsot - May, yet so certain you seem in it.

Angus - So certain as the lands that shake neath the march of boots, and so set the birds to fly from home and nest, and any hope of rest.

Beatrix - Then the crows whisper true.

Angus - True as the breeze that carries them. But warnings of gathering clouds and heated winds. A storm.

Sangsot - A storm whose tail turns to twister, and would pit brother against their sister. Nothing new to this.

Angus - Ever the doubter, you. Sangsot of Balihot, the Wizard turned Shrew. Nothing new save that dirt you turn to hide in.

Sangsot - Prudence, oh fiery Angus. Calm, so that we might gather more before we all spill out.

Angus - Of seed? Of bosom breast? What blood would be left to spill out, whilst we but dally?

Caithens - Set fire too soon, and lose any hope of long flame. What tinder gathered, too few to keep bright the spark.

Beatrix - Long through the mantled dark.

Angus - Far the Praetor’s boots are yet, but here in, there will be wolves.

Sangsot - Of Delatreux, of Ghulan.

Angus - And still you pray we wait?!

Sangsot - And still I say we reason. Might be swift wings find another and his host.

Beatrix - On midnight wings, our words doth fly. Of Delatreux and Ghulan, and the march near nigh.

Angus - Make ready the woods then, as only we can.

Caithens - Dark is the day that the trees need march.

Beatrix - Darker still those days beyond that. Should we but see them, might we find light there in.
 
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