Figment Daily Theme: Inn
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Dialogue
"Y'all are a strange band of misfits, but what the king wants, he gets."
INT. A RUNDOWN INN - NIGHT
It's any old inn at the turn of the medieval age. Early enough in the evening that men are still drinking hard to get the dust of the farm out of their mouths, late enough that there are a few whores starting to look nervous about having enough jingle to pass to their pimp at the end of the night.
There's a BAWDY-PLAYING MINSTREL set up in the corner, mainly singing to the walls and the inside of a mug, which ECHOES and SLOSHES with every other verse.
It's any old inn at the turn of the medieval age. Early enough in the evening that men are still drinking hard to get the dust of the farm out of their mouths, late enough that there are a few whores starting to look nervous about having enough jingle to pass to their pimp at the end of the night.
There's a BAWDY-PLAYING MINSTREL set up in the corner, mainly singing to the walls and the inside of a mug, which ECHOES and SLOSHES with every other verse.
BRIEF EXTERIOR OF INN DOOR AS SOME LURKING, SHAGGY PEOPLE ROLL UP TO IT
Several people in the dim, LATE SUMMER LIGHT stomp toward the door. There's even the sound of boots stomping to try to knock the worst of the caked dirt off.
Several people in the dim, LATE SUMMER LIGHT stomp toward the door. There's even the sound of boots stomping to try to knock the worst of the caked dirt off.
REVERSE ON DOOR AS IT OPENS
Everyone that comes in is dirty and tired.
TIGARD, the ELF-WARRIOR, ears wide and sharp, nose sharp, four (visible) SHORT-SWORDS sharp and one stained the blue-black of ORC BLOOD. He stands only 4 foot tall, but seems a lot taller. The GREY SILK of his elf-robes are the most intact of the lot. Skims the room quickly and heads toward the darkest corner, a couple of the whores looking as if they were just offered a free feast even as they withdraw with much bowing and scraping.
WALLEND, the CLERIC OF SET, a severe man from the Southern Tribes, comes wearing the strange mix of clothes from both homeland and Order; loincloth and bundled rags around wrists and ankles, bare feet, and a single PLATE-ARMOURED BRACER on his left arm. He slips in, willowy and tall, behind Tigard, ducking slightly to get through the door, and heads to the same dark corner.
K'AISS, the FLESH-TENDER, a SQUID-FACED ULUTHOID wearing simple DINGY WHITE VOLUMNOUS ROBES, the better to hide the mass of tentacles and claws hiding within. The crowd wants nothing to do with him as he passes through a broad swath left behind by the first two. One TENTACLE snatches a MUG OF ALE off the table from under the nose of one distracted farmer and scoots back under a fold.
Everyone that comes in is dirty and tired.
TIGARD, the ELF-WARRIOR, ears wide and sharp, nose sharp, four (visible) SHORT-SWORDS sharp and one stained the blue-black of ORC BLOOD. He stands only 4 foot tall, but seems a lot taller. The GREY SILK of his elf-robes are the most intact of the lot. Skims the room quickly and heads toward the darkest corner, a couple of the whores looking as if they were just offered a free feast even as they withdraw with much bowing and scraping.
WALLEND, the CLERIC OF SET, a severe man from the Southern Tribes, comes wearing the strange mix of clothes from both homeland and Order; loincloth and bundled rags around wrists and ankles, bare feet, and a single PLATE-ARMOURED BRACER on his left arm. He slips in, willowy and tall, behind Tigard, ducking slightly to get through the door, and heads to the same dark corner.
K'AISS, the FLESH-TENDER, a SQUID-FACED ULUTHOID wearing simple DINGY WHITE VOLUMNOUS ROBES, the better to hide the mass of tentacles and claws hiding within. The crowd wants nothing to do with him as he passes through a broad swath left behind by the first two. One TENTACLE snatches a MUG OF ALE off the table from under the nose of one distracted farmer and scoots back under a fold.
BARTENDER'S POV
The BARTENDER rubs at a mug that's already as clean as it's going to get as he watches the adventurers roust a flock of whores and settle by the fireplace, finally. A grimace and a small sigh before he begins to set the mug down and --
An OLD MAN has joined the group, though he wasn't there a moment ago. Now he's herding the trio to the best spot in front of the hearth.
ELENTHAR
(to the bard)
You can certainly stop that caterwauling now. I think every cat in the county's given up on being in heat because you're so much better at it.
ELENTHAR
(shouting)
Barkeep! Four ales!
It's absolutely impossible to look more than the SHIFTY WIZARD than Elenthar does, so he doesn't try. Grey robes, grey cloak, grey huge, pointy hat. It's like he just doesn't give a shit any more and just gave everyone the wizard they expected. His face has that same kind of pinched, sour, tired look you'd expect, too.
The BARTENDER rubs at a mug that's already as clean as it's going to get as he watches the adventurers roust a flock of whores and settle by the fireplace, finally. A grimace and a small sigh before he begins to set the mug down and --
An OLD MAN has joined the group, though he wasn't there a moment ago. Now he's herding the trio to the best spot in front of the hearth.
ELENTHAR
(to the bard)
You can certainly stop that caterwauling now. I think every cat in the county's given up on being in heat because you're so much better at it.
ELENTHAR
(shouting)
Barkeep! Four ales!
It's absolutely impossible to look more than the SHIFTY WIZARD than Elenthar does, so he doesn't try. Grey robes, grey cloak, grey huge, pointy hat. It's like he just doesn't give a shit any more and just gave everyone the wizard they expected. His face has that same kind of pinched, sour, tired look you'd expect, too.
FRAME UP ADVENTURERS AND FIREPLACE
There's only a low FIRE going on the warm evening, enough to turn a few BIRDS ON A SPIT and make it warm enough that the whores close enough to do business glisten pleasantly. One of them is perched to either side of Tigard, giggling.
TIGARD
Come on ladies, what I told him was that with one eye, he couldn't see how big my cock actually was, so he'd have to come closer and --
ELENTHAR
Love of the Gods, Tigard. Is it always sowing time with you? Are there any other gods-damned seasons?
TIGARD
Sometimes you plow a barren field to try the plow-horse, my good fellow. Sometimes you yoke two equal coursers just to see who'll pull you off the ground first.
More giggling. Tigard pats two rumps in synchrony.
The cleric lifts a brow at the elf.
WALLEND
For you, all spring. All planting. All sowing. No reaping. That a job for lesser men. Like their husbands.
Tigand looks mock-aghast. More giggles.
He leans forward, placing his face level with rouged nipples, all pointing at Wallend.
TIGARD
I'll have you know, sir, that I take wonderful care of all of my squalling bastard offspring!
WALLEND
Sixty years of their shit-house training?
TIGARD
Well -- maybe not all of it. Some of it.
The Uluthoid lifts his stolen mug to the serrated beak that serves as his mouth and drinks while making a NOISE that sounds like a bird-chuckling from the back of his head.
K'AISS
At least no broods of thousands. No sitting on eggs. No thousand-year courtship-dance and plumage. No, wait -- that last is you!
Tigard makes to mock-throw one of the whores at K'aiss.
ELENTHAR
Enough, enough. You three are a gods-damned thorn in my side. Do you know that? Gods-damned thorn. Y'all are a strange band of misfits, but what the king wants he gets.
K'AISS
(nodding)
What the king wants, he gets. But what the Render wants, is he rendered?
TIGARD
You really talk like that, don't you? All that third-person and reversed subject-verb order. Who does that anymore?
ELENTHAR
Enough. Yes, Uluthoid, your rewards are gods-damned ready, so much as it goes. Yours too, you shit-clinging elf. And Settite, your Order has been contacted. Everything is as you gods-damned requested.
He leans forward, eagerness in his eyes.
ELENTHAR
(quieter)
Now do you have the gods-damned thing or not?
With a theatrical flourish, Tigard whips out an ANCIENT, MOULDERING BOOK and tosses it on the floor.
It lands heavily, with a loud THUMP LIKE A BODY.
The cover is silver-chased and burgundy. There is a crimson demon pictured looming over a wizard, clearly in the act of being summoned.
Elenthar wrinkles his nose and toes the thing with obvious disgust.
ELENTHAR
I was young, gods-damn it. I needed the gods-damned gold.
TIGARD
As do we, good sir! As do we! And for that gold, I dare say that I have something you'll want.
WALLEND
You'll want. Good product. Specially prepared. Very good quality. You'll like. Only one, though. No more. That costs -- extra.
ELENTHAR
Stop the gods-damned showmanship just give it over! The king is even less patient than I am!
K'AISS
A good trait in a middleman, that is not.
K'aiss whips something out from beneath his robes and tosses it into the fireplace under the chickens.
Tentacles pull back slowly to reveal a HUMAN HEAD, eyes bulging in terror, hair already beginning to CATCH FIRE. The TONGUE lolls out, thick and black.
Whores scatter like a disturbed flock of birds. Half the bar empties in the time it takes to say it. The other half seems newly curious about the proceedings, or lost in drunk.
ELENTHAR
That's -- that's -- !
TIGARD
Your son and apprentice, and not the king's heir? Right. Funny story, that.
WALLEND
Not funny. Sad.
TIGARD
Funny with the right attitude, you see.
K'AISS
Offered us more money not to kill him, he did. Offered ten times as much to kill another, we did.
TIGARD
You did say misfits, didn't he Wally?
WALLEND
Wallend. Misfits, yes. Brigands. Hire-murders. Outcasts. Not missed.
K'AISS
Expendable, one might say. Expendable, we are. Stupid, we are not.
Tigard looks around the room.
TIGARD
Barkeep, think any of that lot what ran will have the perspicacious desire to go call a guard?
The barkeep shakes his head a little sadly.
BARKEEP
Not with the jingle you stuck in their pockets earlier tonight, elf.
Elenthar sputters a moment, clearly boggled, and tries to get up, only to find a heavy armoured hand on his shoulder.
TIGARD
Don't look so glum, 'keep. Those boys and these will have thrice the coin to spend on your rotgut beer. It's a sign from the heavens! You're blessed!
The barkeep scowls, but its clearly largely put-on.
TIGARD
Fine, fine. I know when I've been out-maneuvered.
He tosses a heavy, jangling LEATHER BAG to the barkeep which he plucks deftly out of the air and it disappears like a magic trick.
ELENTHAR
This is wrong! The king hired you -
K'AISS
Time, yes?
WALLEND
Time. Enjoy.
The Uluthoid simply grabs Elanthar's head and jerks it backwards. Bones CREAK AND GRIND, but don't break. A moment more and there are TENTACLES being forced into every orifice of Elanthar's head, up the nose, several down the throat, a few in his ears. There is no struggle, just a few moments of peristaltic motion.
Then K'aiss lets go and leans back, tentacles retracting red-stained and viscera-laden.
TIGARD
Honestly, I never get tired of watching you eat. Or sow? I can't tell, sometimes.
K'AISS
Choose, why? Brain, you eat, seeds you plant. The day comes the wizard will grow his first tendril, then another, and then an Ulu be. And slave he'll be. But today, unknowing he'll be.
Wallend stares at the head gently roasting in the fire.
WALLEND
Seems a shame. Good cheek-meats. Another will eat; nothing is wasted for Set.
Tigard pulls himself heavily to his feet.
TIGARD
Right, that covers business. I guess we'll -- nip out the back, right?
The barkeep nods and jerks a thumb.
BARKEEP
Out back, the wizard's cart. Full of stupid wizard bullshit. Fireworks and stuff. Maybe there's a market.
TIGARD
We'll just dump that shite in the barn for you. More profit if you can move it, less mess for us. We've got a tower to move into.
WALLEND
See the king, tell him. Tell him king-meat sells good.
K'AISS
The king, him tell sowed I never in a king's head. Delicacy, for sure.
TIGARD
Just tell him fuck off. Come on, lads, we've a tower to plunder, maids to fondle, and an heir to groom!
There's only a low FIRE going on the warm evening, enough to turn a few BIRDS ON A SPIT and make it warm enough that the whores close enough to do business glisten pleasantly. One of them is perched to either side of Tigard, giggling.
TIGARD
Come on ladies, what I told him was that with one eye, he couldn't see how big my cock actually was, so he'd have to come closer and --
ELENTHAR
Love of the Gods, Tigard. Is it always sowing time with you? Are there any other gods-damned seasons?
TIGARD
Sometimes you plow a barren field to try the plow-horse, my good fellow. Sometimes you yoke two equal coursers just to see who'll pull you off the ground first.
More giggling. Tigard pats two rumps in synchrony.
The cleric lifts a brow at the elf.
WALLEND
For you, all spring. All planting. All sowing. No reaping. That a job for lesser men. Like their husbands.
Tigand looks mock-aghast. More giggles.
He leans forward, placing his face level with rouged nipples, all pointing at Wallend.
TIGARD
I'll have you know, sir, that I take wonderful care of all of my squalling bastard offspring!
WALLEND
Sixty years of their shit-house training?
TIGARD
Well -- maybe not all of it. Some of it.
The Uluthoid lifts his stolen mug to the serrated beak that serves as his mouth and drinks while making a NOISE that sounds like a bird-chuckling from the back of his head.
K'AISS
At least no broods of thousands. No sitting on eggs. No thousand-year courtship-dance and plumage. No, wait -- that last is you!
Tigard makes to mock-throw one of the whores at K'aiss.
ELENTHAR
Enough, enough. You three are a gods-damned thorn in my side. Do you know that? Gods-damned thorn. Y'all are a strange band of misfits, but what the king wants he gets.
K'AISS
(nodding)
What the king wants, he gets. But what the Render wants, is he rendered?
TIGARD
You really talk like that, don't you? All that third-person and reversed subject-verb order. Who does that anymore?
ELENTHAR
Enough. Yes, Uluthoid, your rewards are gods-damned ready, so much as it goes. Yours too, you shit-clinging elf. And Settite, your Order has been contacted. Everything is as you gods-damned requested.
He leans forward, eagerness in his eyes.
ELENTHAR
(quieter)
Now do you have the gods-damned thing or not?
With a theatrical flourish, Tigard whips out an ANCIENT, MOULDERING BOOK and tosses it on the floor.
It lands heavily, with a loud THUMP LIKE A BODY.
The cover is silver-chased and burgundy. There is a crimson demon pictured looming over a wizard, clearly in the act of being summoned.
Elenthar wrinkles his nose and toes the thing with obvious disgust.
ELENTHAR
I was young, gods-damn it. I needed the gods-damned gold.
TIGARD
As do we, good sir! As do we! And for that gold, I dare say that I have something you'll want.
WALLEND
You'll want. Good product. Specially prepared. Very good quality. You'll like. Only one, though. No more. That costs -- extra.
ELENTHAR
Stop the gods-damned showmanship just give it over! The king is even less patient than I am!
K'AISS
A good trait in a middleman, that is not.
K'aiss whips something out from beneath his robes and tosses it into the fireplace under the chickens.
Tentacles pull back slowly to reveal a HUMAN HEAD, eyes bulging in terror, hair already beginning to CATCH FIRE. The TONGUE lolls out, thick and black.
Whores scatter like a disturbed flock of birds. Half the bar empties in the time it takes to say it. The other half seems newly curious about the proceedings, or lost in drunk.
ELENTHAR
That's -- that's -- !
TIGARD
Your son and apprentice, and not the king's heir? Right. Funny story, that.
WALLEND
Not funny. Sad.
TIGARD
Funny with the right attitude, you see.
K'AISS
Offered us more money not to kill him, he did. Offered ten times as much to kill another, we did.
TIGARD
You did say misfits, didn't he Wally?
WALLEND
Wallend. Misfits, yes. Brigands. Hire-murders. Outcasts. Not missed.
K'AISS
Expendable, one might say. Expendable, we are. Stupid, we are not.
Tigard looks around the room.
TIGARD
Barkeep, think any of that lot what ran will have the perspicacious desire to go call a guard?
The barkeep shakes his head a little sadly.
BARKEEP
Not with the jingle you stuck in their pockets earlier tonight, elf.
Elenthar sputters a moment, clearly boggled, and tries to get up, only to find a heavy armoured hand on his shoulder.
TIGARD
Don't look so glum, 'keep. Those boys and these will have thrice the coin to spend on your rotgut beer. It's a sign from the heavens! You're blessed!
The barkeep scowls, but its clearly largely put-on.
TIGARD
Fine, fine. I know when I've been out-maneuvered.
He tosses a heavy, jangling LEATHER BAG to the barkeep which he plucks deftly out of the air and it disappears like a magic trick.
ELENTHAR
This is wrong! The king hired you -
K'AISS
Time, yes?
WALLEND
Time. Enjoy.
The Uluthoid simply grabs Elanthar's head and jerks it backwards. Bones CREAK AND GRIND, but don't break. A moment more and there are TENTACLES being forced into every orifice of Elanthar's head, up the nose, several down the throat, a few in his ears. There is no struggle, just a few moments of peristaltic motion.
Then K'aiss lets go and leans back, tentacles retracting red-stained and viscera-laden.
TIGARD
Honestly, I never get tired of watching you eat. Or sow? I can't tell, sometimes.
K'AISS
Choose, why? Brain, you eat, seeds you plant. The day comes the wizard will grow his first tendril, then another, and then an Ulu be. And slave he'll be. But today, unknowing he'll be.
Wallend stares at the head gently roasting in the fire.
WALLEND
Seems a shame. Good cheek-meats. Another will eat; nothing is wasted for Set.
Tigard pulls himself heavily to his feet.
TIGARD
Right, that covers business. I guess we'll -- nip out the back, right?
The barkeep nods and jerks a thumb.
BARKEEP
Out back, the wizard's cart. Full of stupid wizard bullshit. Fireworks and stuff. Maybe there's a market.
TIGARD
We'll just dump that shite in the barn for you. More profit if you can move it, less mess for us. We've got a tower to move into.
WALLEND
See the king, tell him. Tell him king-meat sells good.
K'AISS
The king, him tell sowed I never in a king's head. Delicacy, for sure.
TIGARD
Just tell him fuck off. Come on, lads, we've a tower to plunder, maids to fondle, and an heir to groom!
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