In The Arms of Morpheus: The Musical (Part 3)

(Scene Three. Curtain opens on R, Tsukiko and Xykon at stone table. Papers are scattered over it and Jirix is giving a report. R is frowning at the table. X is angry but only sign are the darting glances given to him by T and J and his halting delivery of the news.)

J: Groups of, um, hobgoblins have been, erm, searching the, eh, tunnels where the phylactery was, em, seen to fall. So far it has not, urm, been found which leaves the, er, sewage treatment plant, the, um, labyrinth and the, em, ocean.
R: That’s enough, Jirix. (R stands up) Organize teams of our most trusted soldiers and start by to search the treatment plant.

(J looks relieved. Grabs reports and hurries out of room)

X (dangerously soft): So. We still don’t have my phylactery, Redcloak.

(R keeps eyes down. T stands up slowly and backs away from table)

R: That’s what he just said.
X: This is because of your ‘sources of information.’
R: You can’t kill them. They’re the only ones who we have that can tell us anything about the locations of the next gates.
X (disdainful): Oh yeah. Like that’s what you want. We’ve had the damn paladin for months and we have nothing. And I’ve noticed the nights you’ve gone missing to the elf.

(R frowns, looks up at X)

R: What are you implying?
X: Implying nothing. I’m saying that you’re sleeping with the damn thing.

(R shakes his head, rubs temples, exasperated.)

R: Xykon, we’re doing all we can to find the phylactery. Try to be patient just a lit—

(R is blown back along with the table, which lands on top of him)

X: IT’S BECAUSE OF YOUR FRICKING PRISONERS! (looses another spell, hitting R. Blood streams down R’s face and he whimpers) Oh, you want me to stop? (leans down and grabs R’s head) Let me tell you, Reddy—we’ve barely gotten started.

(T runs out of room while X distracted. Curtain closes. Sounds of a beating continue.)

(Curtain opens. Room is dark. R lying where he fell, still under table, unconscious. He is obviously grievously hurt. Starts to wake up and groans. Pushes table off. Starts trying to assess damage but finds a post-it note)

R: ‘If you do anything but the healing you need to live through tomorrow, I’ll make sure you don’t even see tomorrow.’ (Groans again. Drops note and puts hands on stomach) Cure Minor Wounds.

(R screams)

R (panting): I know…it hurts, just…the…healing, have to…keep…going… Cure Minor Wounds!

(More screaming, writhing in pain)

R: Cure Minor Wounds!

(Screams again they lies still for a moment. Slowly and painfully turns over and crawls to the door. Curtain closes)

(Curtain opens. R walks into V’s room carrying a mug. V sits up on the bed. R, trying not to limp, walks to bed and holds out mug)

R: Milk with honey and cinnamon, it’s supposed to help with sleep. And it’s good for elves. Don’t worry—I didn’t drug it.

(V nods and takes mug)

V: …Thank you.

(R settles on foot of bed with a slight sigh, watching V drink)

R: You haven’t been trancing.
V: You weren’t here yesterday or the day before.

(R shrugs)

V: You’re hurt.
R: What gave you that idea?

(V looks angry and crosses arms)

V: Treat me as a prisoner if you wish, but do not insult my intelligence. You were limping when you came in, areas of your body are bulging slightly under your clothes—probably bandages—and you have a contusion along with a deep abrasion on the back of your head, among other things. It did not take much deduction.

(R looks away but is smiling)

R: What can I say? You know, if I were in your shoes, I’d watch what I was saying a little more closely. Trance. Your healing’s probably been set back a few days.
V: When are you going to treat me as you have obviously treated the paladin?

(R pauses)

R: When you’re healthy.
V: That seems like a poor incentive to help myself.
R: But you’ll do it anyway. (shrugs) Xykon won’t be patient. He’ll eventually get tired of taking his frustration out on me and move on to you and our other prisoner. At least this way, you might survive.
V: So you are looking out for my welfare?
R: Sure, if you want to look at it that way. I need to keep you alive. Drink more of the milk. It helps with nightmares.

(V stiffens, alarmed)

V: I…! How did you know about those?!
R: You somehow felt that having your fingers removed would be better than trancing and you refuse to trance unless someone is with you. It did not take much deduction.
V: I…
R: Don’t worry about it. We’ve all messed up badly at some point or another or gone through something that made nightmares. Just finish the drink.
V: Very well.

(V puts down mug and trances. R falls asleep soon after. Curtain closes. End of Scene Three)

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