Duffy
09-25-14, 05:40 PM
Two years ago, the bard Duffy Bracken died. The circumstances surrounding his death I concealed from the public of Scara Brae. The leader of the thespian troupe the Tantalum entombed in his favourite haunt of Market Square, and an epitaph carved into the trunk of the white tree planted over his mausoleum. It read, in pain common:
Oh, hear! You are nothing to me,
Not a scratch on the heart, or torn lung, nought.
I crumble at your presence denied, tied, and tested.
Collect your belongings and flee, flee from the scene,
I need you not, foul Damascus blade!
Perfect symmetry? Once, it existed between us, it is now shattered.
Like the kaleidoscope of summer, you must soon fade, spent,
I wish to see no more of you, feel no more of you, cry no more for you, and be gone!
I am now my own discovery, spending dreams to trade for lovers, dead.
The truth, you ask. The truth is unfamiliar. We have been hiding from it for so long reality and possibility become as one. Duffy Bracken is not dead. The Forgotten One named Oblivion destroyed the body he occupied. That is truth undeniable. No more will his reddened cheeks brighten our streets. No more his raucous laugh and solemn stance our winter’s comfort. He lives on, though.
Out there, in the infinite bleakness of a post-war world, the avatar of the Thayne Tantalus survives. The sad truth, the truth nobody wants to hear but I have to carry is this. He does not remember who he is. He will not want to remember. Out there, there is a hero with pierced lips. He may sing. He may dance. He may beg, steal, and ‘borrow’. If you have ever known him, met him even briefly, then you will know him when you see him again.”
Ruby set the letter down onto the dresser and wiped a tear from her eye. Her bedchamber, dark and lit by candles a many obscured her tear from the plucky youth hovering in the doorway.
“That it, Ruby?” Pete asked. She had read the letter twice now, making small edits with each repetition.
“I want you to take this,” she began, as she picked it up and held it arm’s length. “I want you to take this and give it to everyone in this city who so much as looked at him. I want you,” she snuffled, “to make sure word gets out.” Pettigrew Jones was good at few things, but excellent at one: gossip.
Pete took it. Coal dusted shirt and muddied breeches carried his grandeur poorly, but he swanned out the room defiant and prideful all the same. Ruby watched the dark portal reform, and felt loneliness and darkness creep back around her like a sombre veil. She watched it for as long as her eyes allowed, then turned back to the cracked mirror that served her well over the years. Now, the haggard woman staring back at her was an ugly reminder that time had finally caught up with the troupe.
“Make sure word gets out,” she whispered softly, throat dry, heart racing. “That Duffy Bracken is wanted, very much alive…” she blew hard against the mirror, and all the candles in the room burnt bright, petered out, and plunged the upstairs bedchamber into abyssal darkness.
Duffy Bracken died. He succumbed to the Forgotten One Oblivion. A remnant of the War of the Tap, said Oblivion thought ill of his creations, the Tantalum troupe, and before the Enigmatic Immortal and the elf, Erissa Caedron could begin their campaign against him, the Forgotten One began and ended an endeavour of his own.
In the year since, Pettigrew Jones has become the new leading man of Scara Brae theatre. Leopold Winchester has begun to gather allies in a renewed attempt to put Chronicle into motion proper, and his wife, Ruby Winchester, has all but disappeared. Some say she ventured into the Aria, never to return. In truth, she hides in her city home in Scara Brae, her madness burnt out and spent, her grief totalitarian in her life.
Sadly, her desire for revenge will have to wait. First, she has to find the reincarnation of her friend, and make. Him. Remember. Oblivion cannot be allowed to destroy everything the Ixian Knights, and the troupe, have fought to build on the island. She has sent out a plea to anyone who has ever known the bard to find him. Find that cheeky smile, that dagger wielding brigand, and that monkey man, wherever he may be. Make him remember who he is. It will not be easy. Without him, though, the Thayne Tantalus finally woken in Oblivion's wake will begin to fall into sleep once more.
Help Duffy. Help Scara Brae. All you have to do is search high and low.
Rules:
Anyone who has ever written with, or been involved in an event alongside Duffy Bracken may participate. This may be during any of his incarnations, from the first thief, to the last spell singer. No matter how strong or weak the relation, it counts.
There are no criteria for content or format save you be looking for wherever he may be, and draw on the details of your meeting.
The competition will remain open until October 25th. I will judge the entries according to the Rubric.
Participating entries can be linked here before the closing deadline.
You may work in a team, and use a citadel battle/quest/collection of vignettes etc. Be creative!
Background material can be provided, or feel free to use the archives.
Prizes:
Winning entry will receive all gold registered to this account. If a team has entered, it will be split equally.
If you find Duffy, or help Ruby come closer to finding him, an item from his armoury will be a potential prize.
Oh, hear! You are nothing to me,
Not a scratch on the heart, or torn lung, nought.
I crumble at your presence denied, tied, and tested.
Collect your belongings and flee, flee from the scene,
I need you not, foul Damascus blade!
Perfect symmetry? Once, it existed between us, it is now shattered.
Like the kaleidoscope of summer, you must soon fade, spent,
I wish to see no more of you, feel no more of you, cry no more for you, and be gone!
I am now my own discovery, spending dreams to trade for lovers, dead.
The truth, you ask. The truth is unfamiliar. We have been hiding from it for so long reality and possibility become as one. Duffy Bracken is not dead. The Forgotten One named Oblivion destroyed the body he occupied. That is truth undeniable. No more will his reddened cheeks brighten our streets. No more his raucous laugh and solemn stance our winter’s comfort. He lives on, though.
Out there, in the infinite bleakness of a post-war world, the avatar of the Thayne Tantalus survives. The sad truth, the truth nobody wants to hear but I have to carry is this. He does not remember who he is. He will not want to remember. Out there, there is a hero with pierced lips. He may sing. He may dance. He may beg, steal, and ‘borrow’. If you have ever known him, met him even briefly, then you will know him when you see him again.”
Ruby set the letter down onto the dresser and wiped a tear from her eye. Her bedchamber, dark and lit by candles a many obscured her tear from the plucky youth hovering in the doorway.
“That it, Ruby?” Pete asked. She had read the letter twice now, making small edits with each repetition.
“I want you to take this,” she began, as she picked it up and held it arm’s length. “I want you to take this and give it to everyone in this city who so much as looked at him. I want you,” she snuffled, “to make sure word gets out.” Pettigrew Jones was good at few things, but excellent at one: gossip.
Pete took it. Coal dusted shirt and muddied breeches carried his grandeur poorly, but he swanned out the room defiant and prideful all the same. Ruby watched the dark portal reform, and felt loneliness and darkness creep back around her like a sombre veil. She watched it for as long as her eyes allowed, then turned back to the cracked mirror that served her well over the years. Now, the haggard woman staring back at her was an ugly reminder that time had finally caught up with the troupe.
“Make sure word gets out,” she whispered softly, throat dry, heart racing. “That Duffy Bracken is wanted, very much alive…” she blew hard against the mirror, and all the candles in the room burnt bright, petered out, and plunged the upstairs bedchamber into abyssal darkness.
Duffy Bracken died. He succumbed to the Forgotten One Oblivion. A remnant of the War of the Tap, said Oblivion thought ill of his creations, the Tantalum troupe, and before the Enigmatic Immortal and the elf, Erissa Caedron could begin their campaign against him, the Forgotten One began and ended an endeavour of his own.
In the year since, Pettigrew Jones has become the new leading man of Scara Brae theatre. Leopold Winchester has begun to gather allies in a renewed attempt to put Chronicle into motion proper, and his wife, Ruby Winchester, has all but disappeared. Some say she ventured into the Aria, never to return. In truth, she hides in her city home in Scara Brae, her madness burnt out and spent, her grief totalitarian in her life.
Sadly, her desire for revenge will have to wait. First, she has to find the reincarnation of her friend, and make. Him. Remember. Oblivion cannot be allowed to destroy everything the Ixian Knights, and the troupe, have fought to build on the island. She has sent out a plea to anyone who has ever known the bard to find him. Find that cheeky smile, that dagger wielding brigand, and that monkey man, wherever he may be. Make him remember who he is. It will not be easy. Without him, though, the Thayne Tantalus finally woken in Oblivion's wake will begin to fall into sleep once more.
Help Duffy. Help Scara Brae. All you have to do is search high and low.
Rules:
Anyone who has ever written with, or been involved in an event alongside Duffy Bracken may participate. This may be during any of his incarnations, from the first thief, to the last spell singer. No matter how strong or weak the relation, it counts.
There are no criteria for content or format save you be looking for wherever he may be, and draw on the details of your meeting.
The competition will remain open until October 25th. I will judge the entries according to the Rubric.
Participating entries can be linked here before the closing deadline.
You may work in a team, and use a citadel battle/quest/collection of vignettes etc. Be creative!
Background material can be provided, or feel free to use the archives.
Prizes:
Winning entry will receive all gold registered to this account. If a team has entered, it will be split equally.
If you find Duffy, or help Ruby come closer to finding him, an item from his armoury will be a potential prize.