[open] Riftwatchers: A New Musical

[altusimperius]

WHO: anyone who dares to attend
WHAT: the long-threatened play about Riftwatch
WHEN: August (August)
WHERE: Val Royeaux’s theatre district
NOTES: Lots of references, some unfavorable, to current and past characters. They are made in good fun, but if you find anything upsetting or offensive please speak to me and I will change it!

I. ACCOMMODATIONS

Riftwatchers who took Mssr. L’Euilled Ouebbre up on his generous invitation have found themselves booked for two nights into a suite of rooms at a grand hotel across the plaza from the theatre. Each room looks out onto either the plaza or the city beyond, an untimely heat wave slowing street activity to an indolent crawl in the peak of the day. Despite the weather, the city seems to come to life when the sun sets, strings of lantern lights winking cheerfully over open-air cafes as music and chatter fills the air.

While Riftwatch’s food expenses are covered only in the sense of one very extravagant dinner the night before the premier, they’re sleeping for free and treated as guests of honor as long as they make their affiliation known. The downside of this is that anyone known to be part of Riftwatch is likely accosted multiple times per day by curious theatre-goers, journalists, and the occasional inexplicable theory-crafting superfan (for a show that hasn’t opened yet). It’s a busy and exhilarating visit, blessedly drama-free apart from the literal drama that awaits Riftwatch the second night after their arrival.

II. THE THEATRE

On the second day, there having been ample time for everyone to recover from hangovers and finish visiting local friends, the Riftwatch guests are ushered into the front rows of the mezzanine in a beautiful, sprawling opera house. Patrons in the gallery below, and in the nosebleeds above, cast furtive glances at them and whisper; anyone with a sharp eye for Orlesian nobility can spot this or that lord or lady in the private boxes, vexed perhaps that the attention isn’t on them for once.

When everyone has a drink in hand and the lights have gone down at last, a hush falls over the house and the play begins.

III. THE PLAY


The curtain rises! Emblazoned in magical green flame in front of the cyclorama is a wound-like symbol, flanked below by a chorus of dancing demons. Through some manner of trickery, five actors emerge through the center of the flame and topple to the ground, each wearing a glove with a glowing green bauble at the palm.

The opening number convenes as a troupe of actors wearing Riftwatch colors parade onto the stage and begin to pantomime fighting the demons. The Rifters, as it were, are taken prisoner in a disquietingly catchy sequence wherein we learn their identities: Ellie, a brash and confrontational girl; Wisteria, ladylike and demure, the clear feminine ideal; Jace and Victor, the comic relief, one’s extreme thinness offset by the fatness of the other; and lastly, the de facto leader, an elf (!!) named Tav.

They quickly ingratiate themselves into the company via several introductory numbers. Ellie hits it off with Clarice, a native Orlesian, their scandalous interplanar (and same-sex I guess) romance interwoven through the narrative. Although the Rifters are welcomed as guests by the overall company, including the brave and honest Commander Flint, the beautiful, coquettish Scoutmaster Ysolde, and their loyal-to-a-fault right hand man Edgar, they’re met with resistance and plotting from a wicked cabal of secret rebel mages within the organization: Free Marcher Enchanter Marcus, a man whose distaste for nonmagical citizens has turned to violence; Bann Julian, secretly-magical ambassador from Ferelden who uses his bannorn to safeguard rebel mages; the sadistic Spirit Healer, Isaac; Madame Cidu, a two-faced Orlesian duchess who entertains sedition in her salons; and the weaselly young Magister Benedict from Tevinter, with his poorly-concealed loyalties to both the Venatori and Captain Marcus keeping him playing both sides. All of the above work in tandem to align the Rifters and the narrative with their own design, which appears to be total mage control of Thedas.

They are stymied in their efforts by the good-natured incompetence of Jace and Victor, who have been set to the task of learning how to close Rifts, and instead open many more, causing chaos and a great level of comedic disorganization as Riftwatch scrambles to do damage control. The Rifters, led by Tav, take the forefront of the action, heroically closing a Rift over Haven to thunderous applause as the act one curtain drops.


The second act opens on a sleeping garrison as Tav sits awake. He sings a mournful soliloquy that transitions, rather jarringly, into a confession: he has been committing murders of civilians on every mission, waiting until the dead of night to do so undetected. He can’t help it, he claims; it’s in his nature as someone from beyond the Veil.
The scene is intercut with a moment between Ellie and Clarice, in which sweet lovemaking is interrupted by Ellie’s breathless reveal that she only understood violence before now. This leads into a medley of sorts; Jace and Victor, in clandestine discussion, expose themselves as intentional saboteurs sent to Thedas to sow chaos.

An interlude follows: two fancily-dressed and mustachioed commentators discuss an upcoming mission on the edge of the stage, their witty wordplay suggesting that neither of the evil factions or the pure-hearted nonmagical natives of Thedas have any idea what’s coming. The scene behind them opens onto a group number of everyone ostensibly working together, their heartening chorus peppered by cynical remarks from the two fops. Everything seems to be going well, until a Rift is opened all but on top of the chorus.
A scramble to act leaves several deaths in its wake, including Clarice’s beloved chambermaid Abby, poor loyal Edgar, and, surprisingly, Enchanter Marcus. The ensuing investigation reveals the underlying animosity between the rebel mages and the Rifters; Magister Benedict is murdered in his attempt to spy on Tav, and Clarice is injured attempting to defend Commander Flint from Ellie, who has gone out of her mind with paranoia. Commander Flint puts down the rogue Rifter and gathers his remaining allies, including the shaken Clarice, and the native Thedosians barricade themselves in their keep as the remaining Rifters lay siege to it from outside.

It’s only now that, via Ysolde’s discovery of Benedict’s maimed body, the rebel mages’ plan is blown open; those still alive are immediately taken into custody by the good Commander, never to be seen again.
Outside the gate, Tav laments his terrible purpose as Jace and Victor sing a lively song about how much they enjoy being evil. Wisteria, who has remained stolid and quiet until this moment, appears from offstage to aim a deadly-looking contraption at the gate and blow it open, killing several more characters and culminating in the rowdy finale.

The Rifter-on-Native and vice-versa body count increases exponentially during the final number, ending at last with one solitary figure onstage: Tav, holding his bloody dagger, who drearily explains that it was always meant to be this way. He turns slowly to look over the field of death as the curtain gently drops.

The audience, jarred into pensive silence, takes a few moments before erupting into thunderous applause.

Comments

[sprent]

"Yes," she says anxiously, smoothing her hair back continuously for a moment, making sure every little bit stays behind her ears, "Yes that's — we'll have to do that, we can't take it seriously." Even though it is going to become a very serious threat! Haha! The whole thing is so delicate and Gela is painfully aware of it, feels like, after being told to oil up her hands, somebody has handed her something extremely expensive and fragile.

"Maybe tomorrow it will be funny." Right now—??

[altusimperius]

She looks unsure, and Benedict can't help but feel for her-- you'll never catch him leading Diplomacy, exactly for this reason. Public speaking is bad enough on its own.

"We can ask him to help strategize?" he suggests gently, "I think he'd enjoy it."

[sprent]

"No," she frets, looking upset now, "No, I can't — I'm supposed to be doing the job. I can't ask him for help on everything, I'll look incompetent—" She has a breath. Tells herself to calm down, that she's been through worse, that nobody has died. Nobody will die because of this.

Finally, "I just need to complain."

[altusimperius]

Benedict hadn't expected this reaction, and draws back a little as if in defense; he hadn't meant anything by it, geeze,

"That's all right," he decides, knitting his brow as he continues in step beside her, "but you know you're not meant to be doing everything alone, don't you? That's why we have a whole division." His smile is encouraging. "I'm at your service, Gela."

[sprent]

Gela looks at him and stops walking, the comically large frown on her face easing up. In its place her eyes start to water rapidly.

"Oh, Benedict. Yes. Yes, you're right — thank you. That's so kind of you to say."

[altusimperius]

Battling a brief flash of panic in his eyes, Benedict's smile broadens as he shrugs. It takes a cryer to know one,

"Whatever you need," he insists.